#do I post too much? I worry that I post too much

[leah-lover]

Sketches. Mapi x Ingrid x reader.

Summary: what happens when Ingrid and mapi discover the sketches r drew of them.

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

Doom scrolling on your phone after practice was your favorite activity of the day. You would come home exhausted, throw your kitbag in the hallway, and cocoon in your coach for about an hour.

Today was no different. You got home and did the same thing. You opened TikTok, and scrolled half mindedly. One video though grabbed your attention. It was a tik tok from the official page of Barcelona where your teammates were asked to describe you in a few words.

Cata was the first to answer and she did so by describing you as quiet. It was fair you didn't talk much if at all. It's not that you weren't comfortable enough with the team, you were just a quiet person. Irene was next and she called you kind which put a smile on your face. All your teammates called you different versions of sweet, kind, funny, quiet, and shy. You found their words endearing and it almost brought you to tears. This reaction quickly went away after you heard what mapi described you. “ Talented artist.” your face turned white and your heartbeat was accelerating. Her answer was followed by Ingrid who described you as an “ impressive painter.”

You dropped your phone quickly. “ No it can't be. No no no no. Fuck!!” You got up from the couch and tried to keep yourself busy. You put away your kit bag, did laundry , cleaned the house surprisingly thoroughly. You even meal prepped. all of this so that you wouldn't think about that video, their response, and what most likely saw.

Your alarm found you awake for the first time since the champion’s league final which spoke greatly to the anxiety you were experiencing. The thought of being face to face with them knowing that they know your secret terrified you but had to go to training so you did, and your mission was to get through the day without making contact with them because if you did you would either cry or throw up and that wasn't an option.

“ Nena what's wrong?” Asked Alexia at the meeting room.

“ Nothing capi everything is good.” You say trying to contain your tears. That's when she held your hand and redirected her focus to the coach. She rubbed her thumb across your knuckles once in a while. Once the meeting was over she pulled you gently out of the room and to a different room.

“ We are not getting out of this room until you tell me what is wrong.” Alexia looked so gentle, caring and a little bit worried. But you couldn't tell her what was wrong.

“ Nena I love you and I care about you deeply. Your anxiety is clearly through the roof. Just let me help you. We decided that you would let me help, remember.” She put her hand on your shoulder and desperately waited for an answer.

Alexia was like a big sister to you. She helped you survive your time in Barca but your issue right now was within the team not the pressure or the limelight and you know there was nothing to fix it.

“ I want a transfer. I want to leave Barcelona. I want to leave. “ You close your eyes so that you won't cry.

“ It's okay pequena everything is gonna be okay. I can fix this, whatever this is I can fix it. Trust me.” She pulled you in for a hug. Your anxiety was through the roof and the voices in your head were screaming vile and scary things at you.

“ I want to leave ale. I am serious.” You try to say sturnely.

“ You are one of your best strikers. We need you now more than ever if we want to quadruple again. And we do so you are staying.” She just held you as you cried some more.

Once you calmed down you apologized to Alexia. “ I guess you aren't gonna tell me right?” she asked again.

“ It's just about a stupid video.” You tried to stop the words as they were coming out of your mouth but it was too late.

“What video?” She asked suspiciously.

“ A video posted by the Barca page. It's nothing to worry about. Sorry capi, I didn't mean to freak out.”

“ It's fine Nena if you don't feel like training you can go home. “ She proposed after realizing you won't say anything.

“ Yeah I think that is a good idea.” You went to the locker room, grabbed your bag and left. Alexia then pulled out her phone and searched for the video you were talking about. She watched it 3 times and her teamates’s answers seemed fine, but she got suspicious of mapi and Ingrid's answers so she went to talk to them.

“ Maria, Ingrid, I need to talk to you.” Demanded the captain. They complied and waited for her at the side of the pitch.

“ Where is Nena?” Asked mapi.

“ That's what I am here to talk to you about. She went home now. I just managed to calm her down but she isn't okay. She was crying and she said she wanted a transfer from this team. She also said something about a video the social media team posted. I didn't understand anything.” Mapi and Ingrid gave one another a look they both understood. They knew what troubled you and they felt bad for it.

“ Don't worry about it ale. We will make things right, I promise you.” Said Ingrid.

“So you did something wrong. You hurt her somehow” Alexia started to frown with anger.

“ Ale calm down, I will tell you everything just not now. Everything will be alright tomorrow.”

“Well it better fucking be or you will answer to me.” added the captain before leaving.

When you arrived home your head was pounding because of the crying so you headed straight to your bedroom, got under the covers and slept almost immediately, too tired to do anything else. You only woke up when your phone was buzzing under your pillow.

“ Hola” you answered without checking who is calling.

“ Hola Nena, I need you to open the door. We are standing outside.” Said a familiar voice.

You put your phone to the side and went straight to your door not realizing what you were doing.

Once you opened the door, your eyes opened wide, surprised at who was at your door. You stood there like a statue trying desperately to calm the voices in your head.

“Nena , please let us in, we need to talk to you.” said ingrid in the gentlest voice you ever heard.

You couldn't kick them out so you stepped aside and let them get in. By the time you got to the living room your heart was beating very fast, each breath was harder and harder and the walls around you started to close in on you. Mapi was the first one to notice so she came running towards you. She took your hand, guided you to the couch and started to construct you to take deep breaths.

“ I am gonna leave. Transfer window is in 2 weeks so the coach has enough time to secure a deal with a new team. Even if they dont we can fake an injury for the media and I can just stay home until the summer where we can look again for another deal. You don't have to worry about anything. I won't cause any problems i swear. . ” you say once you get your breath back.

“ nena why do you think anybody wants you to leave?” askes ingrid.

“ I know you think I am a creep, I understand that. I don't want to cause any problems within the team so I am leaving.” you try to say as calmly as you can.

“ nena we don't think you are creepy.” replied mapi. You look at them with confusion. What if you understood everything all wrong? what if you had jumped to false confusion? What if this was all a misunderstanding from you part?

“ You said in that video that I draw really well. I never showed you any of my drawings so that means that you saw them.” you try to piece everything together.

They both look at eachother hesitantly before ingrid starts talking.

“ The other day in the locker room you wanted to talk to the physio and left your ipad open, that's when I saw a drawing of myself and I zoomed out to see the full picture. I then accidentally swiped and saw that you drew a few portraits of me and mapi separately and together.” you knew that they saw the portraits, but hearing the words come out of ingrid’s mouth made the situation much worse for you. Those drawings were something sacred and intimate to you. You expressed your every thought through them. They were your safe space and they gave solace. But now they have changed into a nightmare that would force you to leave your favorite place in the world.

“ Did you see all of them?” your voice seemed to have shrunk and as you ask the question staring at the floor.

“ yes but we don't think it's creepy. We think it's beautiful that you drew us.” mapi didn't know what to say. She was afraid that she said the wrong thing and made the situation worse.

“ mapi you saw 79 portraits of you and your girlfriend on my ipad. Very detailed portraits of the two of you that I drew when I was near you in the meeting room or training or the dinner hall or even my own bedroom and you don't think that that’s a little bit sick.” you ask the question sarcastically.

“ No we don't. look we didn't come here to fight with you or reprimand you we….” you didn't let ingrid finish her sentence, you instead got up, grabbed your ipad and displayed the portraits for them.

“ You seriously don't think this portrait is creepy.” you show them a portrait you drew of them kissing. You weren't thinking of how embarrassing this moment was, you were trying to convince yourself that they hate you because it was better than the alternative. “ Look, I hate myself for this more than you could ever hate me. That's why I want to leave. I am not going to make you feel uncomfortable anymore. “

“ can you please just shut up for a moment. We don't hate you, we don't find you creepy, we liked what we saw, and we think you are very talented. Please don't turn this into something it's not. And please don't ask for a transfer.” mapi didn't mean for her words to come out like that but she couldn't stand seeing the hurt on your face.

“ Look what Maria means to say is that it's all good with us. You don't have to worry about anything and that we are sorry we brought it up in the first place.” ingrid then extended her arms and offered you a hug which you took. You hugged her and mapi again as they left your apartment. Once you found yourself alone in your house again you grabbed your ipad and smashed it to the ground cracking the screen. You left it there on the ground and went straight to bed.

While you slept soundly the couple were the ones that would stay awake late at night.

' you shouldn't have said it like that maria.’ reprimanded ingrid.

“ What did you want me to do? I couldn't just sit there and let her insult herself.” defended mapi.

“ I don't think we handled it right. We should have talked to her more.”

“ you have seen her when she closes herself off. You can't break through when she does that. Once she convinced herself with something you can't undo it. And now she convinced herself that we hate her which isn't true.”

“ We have to find a way to convince her otherwise. She can't leave.”

“ she won't, amor.”

The next day was travel day and you were the first on that bus. You sat in the front, put on your head phones and closed your eyes. The team knew from alexia not to bother you and alexia was informed by ingrid and mapi to let them handle your situation.

You didn't hear anybody get on the bus, you only realized what was happening when the bus started moving. You weren't bothered for the first 20 minutes of the ride but that didn't last long because somebody snatched an airpod from your ear.

“ No iPad today?” asked a smiling mapi who sat next to you . Ingrid sat in front of you.

“ No, I gave that up.”

“ It's a shame you were very good at it.” she responded.

“ Since when did you start drawing?” asked ingrid.

“ since I was a kid. My therapist used to encourage me to do it because I wasn't so good at expressing what i am feeling.”

“ and these drawings help you express your feelings?” you knew what ingrid was getting to and you didn't want to go there so you went for your phone to try and increase the volume of the airpod left in your ear but ingrid’s hand got to it first.

“ Yesterday we were scared that we would say the wrong thing. But today I would rather say the wrong thing than lose you nena.” what ingrid said shocked you.

“ So you were saying that drawing helps you express things right?” continues mapi.

“ yeah. I am not very good at words. I never was so I drew all the words I couldn't say. “

“ Do you have your ipad with you?” asked ingrid.

“ No, I don't have an ipad anymore i smashed it yesterday.”

“ why?”

“ because….” you were quickly interrupted by mapi “ don't you dare say it's creepy.”

A staff member interrupts your conversation by putting an envelope on the table.

“ room 1209, 3 beds like you asked.” she said looking at mapi.

“ What did you do?” you ask confused.

“ I am making sure you are not leaving.”

The bus stopped so you couldn't continue the conversation. You weren't left any room to protest the decision that was made for you as the couple were more stubborn than you are.

Once you got in the room you were hit with the reality that you were going to have to sleep in the same room as them.

“ mapi i can't stay here.”

“ why not?”

“ You know the reason why.”

“ No we dont.” said ingrid.

“ Please don't make me go through this. I promise I won't leave, just please don't make me.”

“ I don't understand why you are so upset right now. We are just going to share a room.

The couple knew that playing dumb would anger you enough that you would start talking. The melancholic look on their faces hit the nail on the head.

“ i cant be here because of the same reason i drew those fucking drawing.. I tried to get you out of my head by drawing you and fantasizing about you but i can't stay stop whatever i am feeling from coming out when i'm sleeping and you are cuddling next to me.”

“ Why would that bother you?” they continued to play on your built up anger.

“ It bothers me because I want to be in the middle of you. I want to be with you. That's why I drew you, that's why I fantasize about it and that's why I can't sleep here.” you weren't realizing what you were saying not until you said it and it hit you like a truck.

Suddenly , you see the couple moving two beds together, taking off their shoes, and laying on the bed. Ingrid then taps on the space between them calling you over.

“ you gotta be fucking kidding me?” you say.

“ We knew what you felt the day we saw you drawing but we thought we were just reaching or projecting our feelings towards you. Since yesterday we were trying to get you to admit your feelings so that we would do too but you kept on insulting yourself which was nice by the way so we resulted in playing dumb which clearly worked. “ said mapi.

“ We care about you, we don't want to lose you. We don't have to figure out everything right now so just come and lay with us please. “ added ingrid.

You were moving on autopilot when you took off your shoes and layed in the middle of the bed between them . you stared at ingrid’s eyes for long time before you moved or spoke.

“ Your eyes are so beautiful I could never capture them in a drawing.” you then look over at mapi “ and you smile i don't think i have never seen it up close. This is too much.” you try to get up but they stop you.

“ We don't have to do anything right now.” mapi handed you a notebook and a pen.

“ Why don't you draw this moment now.” you take the pen and the biggest smile spreads on your face as you get up, look at them, and start drawing as they admired you.

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 20/09✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

@funnybadger868 ha chiesto:wait so if mk can hear macaques past can he hear wukongs for example the circlet and the spell

Yeah he could. It's now just a matter of if he wants to use this power ever again

@cryptic-theseus ha chiesto:you're paying for my therapy btw, the bill is on the way

Blame it on the gay monkies not me. It's bc of them that my life is ruined/hj

@ayrza ha chiesto:Hey!I have an important question, where do you get your sources for the AU👉🏻👈🏻p? I mean, I just recently entered the LMK fandom and I see that there are parts that are not mentioned much in the series and it frustrates me because I feel like I only watch the anime but I'm missing the manga 🫠I love your art and your work, it's amazing 🫰🏻✨

Hi! Well I' finishing to read Journey to the West (im at chapter 80) and if I need extra info or just check I go to the fandom wiki.

@feyqueen91 feyqueen91 ha chiesto:A question for your Shadowpeach Bio Parent AU (btw, I just saw your recent post for More Than A Successor Arc & I thought something light hearted was needed to even out the Angst), is Macaque able to summon something like what Red Son did with the Samadhi Sprite, and he teaches MK to do it too?

Wait what exactly? I haven't understood what you meant by sprite.

@og-glitch-punk ha chiesto: Honestly I expect this to be hidden but i also love your work on both comics, keep it up!! I forgot their names but dude- how would the lotus prince and our moon chef feels about wukong and Macaque being MK's parents? HELL. WHAT ABOUT THE TRIO? YELLOW TUSK, PENG AND THE LOIN (CANT REMMEBER HIS NAME EVEN IF HE IS TECHNICALLY DEAD/GONE). Hell even this chaotic snake man may even use MK to his advantage with the fact he is the child of Wukong and Macaque. So many possibilities and guesses, so many twists and turns we will never know bro

Oh he absolutely woud. Also about the others. They would probably act like protective aunt/uncles to that poor traumatised boy.

@thenerdnico ha chiesto:Oh my GODS that last bio dad's chapter broke me, your expressions are always amazing. I'm going to assume that at the end of Wukong's and Macaque's fight, Wukong realised Macaque wasn't moving and ran up to him, and ended up sobbing and screaming when he realised he was dead??? If that is the case, do you think MK listened to it long enough to hear that as well?

Oh for angst reason yes. He did.

@shadowpeachera ha chiesto:AHHHH YOUR SHADOWPEACH BIO AU IS SOO GOOD!!!! I SCREAMED AT THE LAST UPDATE!!! I have a question though. You know in the series i think season 3 epsiode 5 where Wukong goes into a deep mystic monkey meditation, yeah. Well i was wondering if Mk has ever tried that but got disrupted and lost his memories or started acting strange infront of his monkey parents. It would be hilarious i can imagine him shouting, “TUDI, TUDI!”KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK, no pressure though! HAVE A GOOD DAY!

Lmaooo ok ok I don't think I'll go witha small amnesia arc in the AU but this doeß sound adorable.

@sakuralotus03 ha chiesto:It will probably be quite heavy, but I suggest that after Wukong saw the monkey like that he had a huge attack of guilt and anxiety and ended up injuring his left eye with his claws

Poor baby!! Nono don't worry his eye is fine.

@raylamoongirl ha chiesto:question for macaque: what was the hardest thing to teach Mk?Lmk bio parents Q&A

Mmmm so they tried really hard to teach him shadow teleportation, but he seems to not be able to do it.

@lmkobsessedmoth ha chiesto:For the Shadowpeach Bio Parent AU What if macaque and wukong go on a date and wukong doesn’t know it’s a date because he’s as dense as the rock he hatched out of

He truly would be. May the gods give him a clue or smt otherwise we wont end up nowhere here

Anonimo ha chiesto:Hey!I love your Shadowpeach bio Parent's AU But I Wonder,Does Wukong and Macaque already dance together before?

Danced??? I think so?? When they still were lovers friends I think (i think i m missing something)

Anonimo ha chiesto:I am on my knees, heart giving out, HOW IS BABY MK SO CUTE AND SHADOWPEACH SO ALLERGIC TO JUST KISSING ALREADY LIKE COME ON YOU TWO Anonimo ha chiesto:When I read the other part where swk and mac where talking about wanting MK to view them as parents at first I thought swk was proposing having another kid with Mac and I went “WOAH HEY- HOLD UP FOR A SECOND THERE U NEED TO GET UR SHT TOGETHER FIRST” and thank god it wasn’t that I thought swk was JUMPING AND ACCELERATING THEIR PROGRESS LMAOOOSo I’m actually glad they are taking baby steps, they need them

This slowburn is gonna be so slow-burning you all are gonna die when they actually kiss (will they kiss? Oh that's just for me to know ahah)

Anonimo ha chiesto:Since macaque is called mama by mk does that mean macaque is like a mother figure to mk in your au mama macaque is adorable and he gives off motherly in his character

Anonimo ha chiesto:Whos mom if there is considered a mom by MK or only dads? Is it Wu or Mac? My headcanons is Wukong basically the mom cuz he gives off mom and dad vibes together and Macaque just gives off dad vibes to me

He gives more motherly vibes, yes (Mamacaque and DadWukong forever)

Anonimo ha chiesto:Hi in you bio parent au for monkie kid how were monkey king and macaque as teenagers when they had a good relationship were like they a romantic couple or had secret crushes on each other and never told each other or were they just friends love this au it's amazing

Oh I think they were definitely lovers once. And that makes their past and what happened even more tragic honestly.

@ayrza ha chiesto:I don't know who is more adorable: Baby MK or Macaque and Wukong blushingPsd. I love your AU and your art 💖

Both. Both is good

@diamondwolf23 ha chiesto:THOSE TWO BETTER KISSSSSSSSSSS-I’m gonna miss Baby Mk ;-

Me too. Me too.

Anonimo ha chiesto:You could say Wukong is a...... simpian?(like simian but yknow >>)

LMAO YES

@scififeather21 ha chiesto:You can't believe how much I love your Shadowpeach AU comic series that last part made me grin so much. Mostly because my husband and I have done that exact thing when our kids were small babies and the looks and smiles were the same too. OMG it such a nice thing to see after a long day at work yesterday. :)

THAT'S THE- SWEETEST THING?????? LIKE IM SO GLAD I WAS ABLE TO MAKE IT A SIMILAR EXPERIENCE???? TO HEAR IT'S THE SAME THAT HAPPENED TO YOU IS THE SWEETEST THING EVER

@snsp6 ha chiesto:I love ur bio dads au! I wanted to ask what would happen if smth similar to the baby mk incident happened to the immortal monkeys.Like either they were de-aged to their youth or had an amnesia rules type of situation!(I am in love w the world building in this!!! And ur art is delectable!)

I don't thing the world would be ready for non-reformed Wukong#like-#not really reformed but the guy killed so many people bc of impulsiveness#until he learned that murder is not fine

Anonimo ha chiesto: This might be a stupid question, but for your bio parents, AU is MK just always in his monkey form, or is this just how he permanently looks now?

He's on his monkey form when he trains / stays at the weekends at FFM or when he friendly duels/train with Mei and Red Son.On weekdays he's constantly in his human form

@meisawkwardashecc ha chiesto:Is Wukong potentially shorter than Macaque? 👀🥺Avatar

Yes

@miraclecactus ha chiesto:Can you show us what's going on in the Freenoodles house? I'm looking forward to knowing how they manage to calm MK down :( Puedes mostrarnos que es lo que sucede en la casa de Freenoodles? Estoy ansiosa de conocer como ellos manejan el como calmar a MK :(

They used Wukong and Mac advices until he feel asleep.

Anonimo ha chiesto:I like how Wukong asks Macaque how he knows MK won't hate him after this. Like my guy, you literally killed Macaque, and he still hangs around I think he knows a thing or two

True. Although let Wukong be the dumbass he is.

alizardonfire ha chiesto:I love the idea of macaque being wukongs *rock* if that makes sense? It gives so much character to him.

Aaaahh ty! Yeah I feel like he's pretty good at understanding when he s just out of his mind and bring him back to earth.

Anonimo ha chiesto:If this isn't to much spoiler will the next lmk comic be angsty

This will be answered too late but I will always warn you in advance if there s angst coming.

Anonimo ha chiesto:I love your art! Lighthearted question since your about to bring the pain- do you think Mac and Wu fight over who gets to be little spoon/big spoon or are both of them 100% happy with Mac as big spoon and Wu as little spoon every night

So as for now, they are good with Wukong being the little spoon. Both bc Wukong is the the one who constantly craves for touch amd bc Macaque feels more comfortable in a position of "control" let's say. He can decide how much closer or not to get to Wukong.

Then in the future they would be more comfortable to switch (and the bicker about who should be the big or small)

@sallyvanna ha chiesto:HAIII FIRST OF ALL I LOVE YOUR BIO PARENT AU it makes my day every time I see a new page postedI was just wondering, why was macaque kinda nervous when he summoned rumble and savage? He was like 'ah shit I didn't want that-' 👀

It was because the kid would be afraid of them! Of course he wouldn't. But I guess Macaque still feels like his powers are a threat to him.

@redwrathroit ha chiesto:Hey, note this is something you can completely ignore but I wanted to know if you had a ref sheet for your monkey Bois, I'd love to take a try and drawing them plus I had made an Oc character of my own but I did it once and then art block hit me like a train and said; nah, never again. So it would really help me out if you have a ref, if not ignore this and have a nice day/night

Unfortunately I don't. I have a lot of panels where you can see them full body in various stances though.

Anonimo ha chiesto:Wukong being the little spoon is too cute, he spends years being the big spoon platonically to everyone that someone finally gave him what was needed, to be protected instead of being the protector

Yesss he iss!!!!!!

@froggyofdeath ha chiesto:Question abt Shadowpeach bio parents! Sooo, who kills the spiders, who screaming abt them, who the one who picks it up and try to scare the screaming one?🫠✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️✨️☕️☕️☕️☕️

Mk is screaming, Wukong picks it up, Macaque kills it.

Anonimo ha chiesto:Can we see exactly when they decided to prepare the courtnapping room? Like when exactly did they know oh we need to prepare that our son has apparently followed in our footsteps

Unfortunately in this AU for now I don't plan tp draw a full spicynoodle arc as well. There will be moments for the ship as well but more like extras and side stories.

Anonimo ha chiesto:Your shadowpeach bio au reminds me of something..... I remember you saying to someone that they should Read a Son of Two Dad's. Have you read the entire thing? and the sequel?

Yes I did! Also the sequel, but i think it s in hiatus.

Anonimo ha chiesto:In you newest update for the shadowpeach parent au, that one scene of Macaque looking at Wukong as MK holds his finger kind of reminds me those flashback scenes in movies of the dead lover/wife that is looking at the main character from under a flowing blanket. I have no clue why but the image popped up in my head when I read that part of the comic lmao

I bet when they are back together they will re-create this exact image eventually

Anonimo ha chiesto:I love that Macaque is initiating contact with Wukong. Hugging him, holding his hands, cuddling with him. It makes my heart melt 🥹🥰 And Wukong is giving him opportunities to do so

He is opening the door for Mac to come closer, so that it's his choice how much he can get closer. The last thing Wukong wants is to rush things or do something that would make him more uncomfortable.

Anonimo ha chiesto:Omg! I love your art especially your shadowpeach parent bio au, it's adorable! Although I'm terrified for the next page. Anyway, my question is, why won't you let the monkey trio breathe from the trauma? 😅🥹

Bc apparently chat asked for it

[kckt88]

A Heartbeat Between Us III

Summary:

Aemond and Y.N attend a scan for their baby and arguements ensue when Alys and Jace reappear.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Arguing, Discussion of Past Trauma, Swearing, Threat of Violence, Mild Jealousy, Allusions to Sex.

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 6454

A.N - Bit of a filler chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood

Y.N. stirred as the soft rustling of clothes caught her attention. Her eyes fluttered open, catching sight of Aemond standing at the edge of the bed, already half-dressed, pulling on his shirt in the early morning light.

"What time is it?" she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

Aemond glanced at her, buttoning his shirt. "6 a.m.," he replied, smoothing his collar. "I need to head home and shower before work." He walked over, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "Go back to sleep."

Y.N. blinked a few times, shaking her head. "No, I need to get up too. I have a book restoration to finish for a client," she said, stretching her arms above her head.

Aemond paused for a moment, looking at her with concern. "Is that safe for the baby?"

Y.N. gave him a reassuring smile. "I wear a mask and gloves. It should be fine."

He nodded, clearly still thinking it over but trusting her judgment. "Thanks for letting me stay last night," he said quietly, brushing a lock of hair away from her face.

"It's okay," she smiled back, her eyes soft.

Aemond leaned in and kissed her lips, a lingering gesture that seemed reluctant to let go. "Make sure you have a healthy breakfast," he murmured as he pulled back.

Y.N. mockingly saluted him. "Yes, sir."

Something shifted in Aemond at her words, a flash of heat lighting up in his eye. He leaned closer, his forehead resting against hers, the air between them suddenly thick with tension.

"You’d do well to listen to me," he whispered, his voice low, laced with intent. "Or I’ll have to punish you."

Y.N. giggled softly, clearly enjoying the playful edge to his words. "I might like it, Daddy."

The growl that came from Aemond was deep and possessive. He claimed her mouth with a fierce kiss, laying her back down on the bed as his body pressed over hers, the heat between them flaring back to life.

"I'm going to be late" muttered Aemond torn between desire and responsibility as the covers slipped revealing Y.N’s naked body.

Y.N. bit her lip, an apologetic smile tugging at the corners. "Sorry."

Aemond smirked wickedly, his eye dark with lust. "Don't be." He kissed her again, his hands moving quickly to undo his trousers, freeing his hard cock.

"I thought you were going to be late?" teased Y.N

Aemond glanced down at her bare body, his hunger for her consuming any fleeting thought of punctuality.

"It’s worth it," he growled, as he took his cock in hand and sheathed himself inside her in a single thrust.

Y.N. burst through the door of the bookstore, cheeks flushed and slightly out of breath.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” she called out, her words spilling out in a rush.

For all the worrying about Aemond being late this morning, it ended up being her who was running behind.

Damn him and his big cock.

Luckily, Aemond had dropped her off, so she wasn’t that late, but still.

She didn’t like showing up behind schedule, especially with so much work to do. Wasting no time, Y.N. headed straight to the back room where her restoration materials were waiting.

She slipped on her gloves and mask with practiced ease, feeling a sense of calm settle over her as she focused on the task at hand.

The book in front of her was old, its cover worn, pages delicate from years of handling. She’d been commissioned to restore it by a client who cherished it, and she felt the weight of that responsibility.

The process was time-consuming and required precision—every movement measured; every touch careful. But there was something so satisfying about it. Bringing an old, damaged book back to life, piece by piece, always filled her with pride.

A couple of hours passed in a quiet blur, Y.N. so absorbed in her work that she almost forgot the time. She was just about to take a break when her phone buzzed on the worktable beside her.

It was a message from Helaena: ‘Lunch at the café round the corner? xoxo’

Y.N. smiled and texted back a quick, ‘Yes, see you in ten xx’, before tidying up her workstation. She placed the restored pages back into their protective covers, wiped down her tools, and slipped off her gloves.

With a final glance at her progress, she grabbed her coat and headed out the door, eager to catch up with Helaena and unwind a little over lunch.

Y.N. spotted Helaena waiting by the café entrance, her blonde hair blowing softly in the breeze.

Helaena's face lit up the moment she saw her, and Y.N. couldn't help but smile back. As she approached, Helaena reached out, gently taking Y.N.'s hand in hers, guiding her inside.

They found a cozy table by the window, the soft hum of chatter around them as they settled in.

After ordering drinks—a coffee for Helaena and a fruit smoothie for Y.N.—Helaena busied herself with the menu, eyes scanning the options. Y.N., on the other hand, had already decided on her favourite: a jacket potato with tuna, cheese, and, of course, a side of pickles with Helaena eventually settling on a Caesar salad.

As they waited for their food, the conversation shifted to work. Helaena talked about the flower shop she owned just down the street, mentioning how autumn was bringing in new customers.

It was comforting, chatting about the mundane, but Helaena soon changed the topic with a knowing smile.

“So,” Helaena began casually, “-How are things going with Aemond?”

Y.N. nearly choked on her smoothie, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “Uh, well-I’m not sure what’s going on, honestly,” she admitted, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks.

Helaena leaned forward; her gaze soft yet knowing. “Is it because you two keeping having sex? Or is it because you're pregnant?”

Y.N. froze, her eyes widening. “H-How do you know?”

Helaena smiled warmly. “Aemond called me this morning,” she explained. “Don’t worry, he didn’t say much. Just that there's something between you two and that you’re pregnant.”

Blushing deeper, Y.N. asked hesitantly, “Are you-mad at me? You know, for being with him while he was still with Alys?”

Helaena’s expression softened even more. “Of course not,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s Aemond’s issue, not yours. But if I’m being honest, I always knew something was bound to happen between you two at some point.”

“Really?” Y.N. asked, surprised. “Even back in school when he was-kind of a dick?”

Helaena chuckled lightly, nodding. “Yes, even then. Aemond was dealing with a lot—the loss of his eye, the surgeries, the pain. It was really hard for him. He struggled with his appearance and thought no one would ever love him for the way he looked. But then we became friends, and he really liked you, but he didn’t know how to handle those feelings, so he pushed you away. He’s always felt terrible about how he treated you.”

A tear slipped down Y.N.’s cheek as she listened, and Helaena reached across the table, squeezing her hand gently.

“Just be patient with him,” Helaena said softly.

Y.N. nodded quickly, wiping away her tears just as the food arrived. Helaena laughed as Y.N. immediately dove into the pickles.

“The baby makes me want them,” Y.N. said with a sheepish smile.

Helaena grinned, reaching into her bag. “I know it’s early, but I couldn’t help myself.” She handed Y.N. a small gift bag. Inside was an adorable bib with the words ‘I have a cool auntie’ written across it.

Y.N. laughed, her heart warming. “Thank you, Helaena. It’s so sweet.”

Helaena winked. “No, thank you for having sex with my brother. Now I get to have a niece or nephew to spoil.”

Y.N. rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling at her friend. The two shared a warm moment before tucking into their meals, the worries of the world set aside for now.

Y.N. arrived home, juggling her bag and the stack of mail she’d collected on the way in. She sorted through the envelopes, her eyes catching on one particular letter—the familiar scrawl of Jace’s handwriting on the front.

With a sigh, she tucked it into a drawer, deciding she didn’t have the energy to deal with whatever was inside.

She moved on, opening another envelope, this one from the midwives. It was her appointment letter for the ten-week checkup. The date—October 22nd.

Smiling softly, she grabbed her phone and texted Aemond about the appointment, knowing he’d want to be there. A few minutes later, her phone buzzed with his reply:

‘Thanks for telling me. I’ll be there’.

Y.N smiled as she put her phone down, she then reached down and pulled her shoes off.

“That feels good” muttered Y.N as she headed down the hallway towards the bathroom.

She put the plug in the bath and added a little too much of her rose scented bubble bath, before shedding her clothes and throwing them in the wash basket.

The moment she sank into the warm water, surrounded by bubbles, she let out a contented sigh. The warmth soaked into her muscles, easing her tension. After washing her hair and body, she laid back, closing her eyes.

Her thoughts soon drifted to Aemond and their baby, and she placed a hand on her stomach, wondering about the future.

Would she even be a good mother? The thought stirred something deep within her—she had no real role model to draw from.

Her own mother had abandoned her when she was a toddler, and she never knew her father. Her grandfather, the one who raised her, had passed away just after she’d finished college.

She missed him very much, and the way he would always insist on a cup of tea and a biscuit at 11am whilst he listened to the wireless as he called it, the way he would go for his morning paper at the same time every day, and how he would read a new book every week from the local library as he insisted on keeping his mind active.

Even on the nights when he insisted on having a cheeky glass of whiskey and tonic water, she remembered how he taught her how to count money, and tell the time, the man had the patience of a saint.

He even taught her how to ride a bike and funnily enough how to roller blade, she laughed at the memory of him chasing after her as she went a bit too fast down a hill and fell cutting her knees open.

She then had a thought, that maybe, if the baby was a boy, she could name him after her grandfather.

Suddenly, a knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Y.N. groaned, stepping out of the bath and wrapping a dressing gown around her. She hurried to the door, praying that it wasn’t Jace.

When she opened it, Aemond stood there, his expression tense. Before she could say anything, he launched himself at her, his arms wrapping around her tightly.

"Aemond?" Y.N. asked, confused, her words muffled against his chest. "What's wrong?"

He pulled back slightly, his eye wide with concern. "Don’t scare me like that again."

"Scare you? What do you mean?"

"I called you a bunch of times, but you didn’t answer,” Aemond explained, his voice tinged with frustration. “I thought something had happened."

Y.N. blinked. "I’m fine. I was just in the bath."

At her words, Aemond visibly relaxed, his grip on her loosening as he let out a breath. "Okay. I just—"

She cut him off with a soft smile, closing the door behind them to keep her nosey neighbours from gawking.

"I’m okay, Aemond. Promise."

As the tension eased, Aemond’s attention shifted around the flat. His eye landed on a stone figure placed on her dining table. He walked over, inspecting it with curiosity.

“What’s this for?” he asked, gesturing to the statue.

“Oh, surely you know that books aren’t the only things I restore,” Y.N. said, stepping up beside him. “That’s a piece for the museum. They asked me to restore it.”

The statue was of a woman, possibly a Greek goddess, though time and neglect had left it damaged. Despite that, the design was still beautiful.

Aemond looked impressed. “That’s amazing”.

“It’s for an exhibition in a few months, so I have to get it done by then.”

“I’m sure you will,” he said confidently, before adding with a smirk, “I didn’t notice it this morning.”

Y.N. laughed. “That’s because it arrived this afternoon.”

Aemond’s smile faded into a look of concern. “Please don’t tell me you carried it from work by yourself.”

She scowled at him playfully. “I’m not some weakling, Aemond.”

“I know, but you’re also pregnant,” he reminded her. “You have to be careful with heavy lifting.”

Y.N. couldn’t help but smile at his protectiveness. “Don’t worry. It was delivered by the museum.”

Satisfied, Aemond took a closer look at the statue, his interest piqued. “I’ve always been fascinated by history.”

“Yeah. I remember how nerdy you were about it back in school,” Y.N. teased.

Aemond chuckled. “You were just as much of a history nerd if I recall.”

She laughed, recalling a memory. “I still remember that time I answered a question before you in class. You were livid.”

Aemond smiled at the memory, his tone mock-serious. “You infuriated me.”

“Well, it made my day,” Y.N. shot back with a grin, “-Finally getting one over on the all-knowing Aemond Targaryen.”

They shared a laugh, the old academic rivalry from school long buried but still amusing. Aemond’s gaze softened as he asked, “Are you working on anything else?”

“Not right now,” she replied. “This piece will take a few weeks. Then I’ll take on something new-”

“I think it’s fascinating” said Aemond.

“W-Would you like to see pictures of the other works I’ve restored?” asked Y.N

 “I’d love to” replied Aemond eagerly.

With a nod, Y.N. handed him a thick photo album. Aemond flipped through the pages, marvelling at the before-and-after shots of her work.

His genuine interest made Y.N.’s heart swell. Jace had never shown this kind of enthusiasm for what she did, he just mostly complained.

When Aemond finished, he handed the album back, a thoughtful look on his face. “You ever think about starting your own business?”

“I’ve thought about it,” Y.N. admitted. “But setting up a business can be very expensive, and I don’t want to leave Mr. Howlett in the lurch. He gave me my first job after college.”

Aemond nodded. “I understand, but surely Mr. Howlett would want to see you succeed instead of working in some-dingy store.”

Y.N. crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “ Hark at Mr. Snooty Pants. If it doesn’t have fifty floors and its own receptionist, it’s not good enough, huh?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Aemond said, exasperated. “I just think—"

“Well, that’s what it sounded like,” she interrupted, her voice rising slightly.

Aemond took a deep breath, steadying himself. “All I meant was that Mr. Howlett probably wants you to do well, wherever that may be.”

Y.N. shrugged, her frustration ebbing. “Doesn’t matter. I can’t afford it. I have student debt, and now, with the baby—”

“I’m helping with the baby, remember?” Aemond reminded her, his voice gentle but firm.

“I know,-” Y.N. replied, her voice softening. “But I’m not a charity case.”

Aemond frowned. “I never said you were. Why are you twisting my words?”

Before he could brace for an argument, Y.N. suddenly burst into tears.

Aemond was startled at first, but then instinctively pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly as she sobbed against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Y.N. sniffled, her voice muffled by his shirt. “I don’t know why I’m crying. I’ve just been so emotional lately.”

Aemond gently wiped her tears away and cupped her face. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

She gave a watery laugh. “I cried earlier because I ate all the pickles.”

Aemond smiled, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “I think I might know of a way to make you feel better,” he whispered, leaning in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered something naughty.

Y.N. blushed, her cheeks burning. "Aemond!" she exclaimed, swatting at him playfully, though she couldn’t help but smile.

“So-shall we?” asked Aemond as he offered her his hand.

Y.N playfully hesitated for a moment before she took his hand and followed him to her bedroom.

As Y.N. stood in the lift, she found herself reflecting on the past two weeks. Almost every night had been spent with Aemond at her flat, their evenings filled with conversations about work, shared meals, and a surprising amount of amazing sex.

Sometimes she cooked, and other times Aemond amazed her with his culinary skills. Their nights always ended the same way—the two of them together in bed.

She wasn’t entirely sure what was happening between them, as they’d never discussed it but whatever it was, she liked it. She felt a sense of warmth and connection that she hadn’t anticipated.

The lift dinged, pulling her from her thoughts. She stepped out onto the 20th floor of Targaryen Inc. and approached the receptionist, offering a polite smile.

“I’m here to see Aemond.”

The receptionist returned her smile. “Mr. Targaryen is expecting you.”

Y.N. nodded in thanks and entered Aemond’s office. He was on the phone, clearly in the middle of a heated argument. His eye flicked up when he saw her, and he waved her over to the sofa. She took a seat quietly, trying not to intrude.

“I don’t care!” Aemond's voice was sharp, frustration laced in his tone. “I’m a grown man—you don’t command me!”

Y.N. flinched when he slammed his fist down on the desk, her heart skipping a beat.

“I’m done with this conversation,” Aemond finished, slamming the phone down. He sighed heavily, his expression softening when he turned to her. “Sorry you had to hear that. Just my grandsire trying to tell me what to do.”

Y.N. gave a small smile, though she still felt a bit shaken by his outburst. “Maybe, in some twisted way, he thinks he’s looking out for you.”

Aemond scoffed, shaking his head. “Trust me, in this instance, he’s not.”

She didn't press further, instead changing the subject. “Are you ready for the appointment?”

Aemond nodded eagerly, rising from his chair and pulling on his jacket.

As they left the office, his hand settled on the small of her back, a comforting gesture that made her heart flutter.

They stepped into the empty lift together, and Y.N. giggled quietly when she felt his fingers teasing her side, a mischievous smile tugging at Aemond’s lips.

He leaned in, his breath warm against her skin as he began pressing gentle kisses along her neck.

“-Aemond” gasped Y.N.

Aemond then spun her against the side of the lift and pressed his lips to hers in a slow, passionate kiss. His hands sliding around her body, pulling her close as the kiss deepened.

The lift pinged open on the ground floor, and at the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat, Aemond detached himself from Y.N to see Alys glaring at the two of them.

Aemond's entire demeanour shifted, his hand tightening protectively around Y.N.

“What are you doing here?” Aemond asked, his tone cold.

Alys’s eyes flickered between the two of them before she replied, “I’m here with Larys. He has a meeting with Rhaenyra.”

 “Excuse us, but we have an appointment with the midwives” said Aemond his voice was clipped and slightly dismissive, but Alys sneered, her eyes landing on Y.N.

“Oh yes, the child,” she said, her tone laced with contempt.

Y.N. turned to Aemond. “I’ll wait for you outside,” she said, sensing the tension and wanting to avoid a confrontation.

But Alys wasn’t finished. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t leave on my account. You’ve already helped yourself to everything I had, so you may as well take my time as well.”

Aemond’s jaw tightened. “Apologize,” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

Y.N. placed a hand on his arm. “No, it’s fine. Alys has a right to be angry.”

Aemond frowned. “Maybe, but it was me who came onto you.”

Alys let out a bitter laugh, her eyes gleaming with malice. “Oh, and there was me thinking that Y.N. intentionally seduced you and got pregnant.”

Y.N.'s fists clenched at the accusation. “What?”

Alys's voice was dripping with sarcasm. “He’s a Targaryen and he’s wealthy. It’s easy to assume you’d want a child with him, a way to secure a permanent tie to the family name considering you have no family of your own-”

Aemond could see the fury shaking through Y.N. and as she took a step towards Alys, he quickly moved forward, grabbing the back of her coat, to stop her from throwing a punch at Alys.

After a tense pause, Y.N. exhaled sharply. “Not everyone wants Aemond for his money or his name, Alys. I’m not you.”

Alys’s eyes flared with anger. “How dare you—”

“I’m done,” Y.N. said firmly, shaking off Aemond’s hand. “I’m going to wait outside.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Aemond standing there with Alys.

Aemond turned back to Alys, his expression hard. “If you want to hate someone, then hate me. I’m the one who pursued Y.N., not the other way around. There’s no need to speak to her like that.”

Alys pressed the button to call the lift, her eyes narrowing as she looked at him. “I always knew you had a thing for her,” she said, her voice softening to something almost wistful. “Just surprised it took you this long to act on it.”

Before Aemond could reply, the lift doors slid open, and Alys stepped inside.

The doors closed with a soft thud, leaving Aemond standing alone. He let out a slow breath, collecting himself before heading outside.

He found Y.N. standing by his car, her arms crossed as she stared out into the street. She didn’t look at him when he approached, but she didn’t move away either.

“Y.N-” Aemond started softly, unsure of what to say.

She glanced at him, her expression tired but not angry. “Let’s just get to the appointment.”

Y.N. and Aemond sat in the waiting room of the midwives in complete silence. Ever since their encounter with Alys, Y.N. hadn't spoken a word, her fingers restlessly fiddling with the rings on her hand.

Aemond watched her, feeling awful. He knew that Alys’ insinuations had cut deep. Y.N. was no gold digger—he knew that better than anyone—but the way Alys had framed it was enough to wound her. He longed to say something, to make it better, but the words stuck in his throat.

"Y.N.?" A nurse called out, breaking the tension between them.

Y.N. stood up, and Aemond followed as they were led into a small room. The older midwife, a kind-looking woman with greying hair, smiled warmly.

“Hi, I’m Marie, and this is Kelly,” she introduced her assistant, a young woman who was there to observe and learn. “Kelly is training today, if that's okay with you?”

Y.N. nodded quietly, still not saying much. She sat down and introduced Aemond as the father, trying to keep her composure. Kelly’s eyes went wide with recognition as she stared at Aemond.

“Aemond Targaryen?” Kelly gasped, and Y.N. felt a flicker of irritation as the young assistant's eyes lingered on him.

Y.N. shot her a scowl, but Kelly seemed oblivious, too engrossed in staring at Aemond, who moved to sit as close to Y.N. as possible.

Marie began asking Y.N. questions about how she was feeling and how the pregnancy had been progressing so far. Y.N. answered quietly, just wanting to get through the appointment.

“All right, Y.N.,” Marie said after a few moments. “Let's do a scan, shall we? Could you lay down on the table?”

Y.N. lay back on the examination table, exposing her stomach as Aemond stood by her side, his expression softening with excitement.

As Marie asked for the gel, Y.N. noticed Kelly still gazing at Aemond, utterly distracted. Marie snapped her fingers sharply.

“Kelly, the gel, please,” Marie said, sounding annoyed.

Kelly blushed and fumbled as she handed the gel to Marie, who shot her a disapproving look. “You need to pay more attention,” Marie scolded under her breath.

The gel was warm as Marie spread it across Y.N.’s stomach, and soon the image of their baby appeared on the screen. Aemond’s eye lit up with wonder, and without thinking, he took Y.N.’s hand, squeezing it gently.

“The baby has a strong heartbeat, and everything looks good,” Marie said, taking measurements. “Growing nicely.”

Y.N. glanced up at Aemond, who was utterly mesmerized by the screen. The baby’s tiny legs wiggled, and his smile grew wider. Marie froze the image and printed two pictures.

As Y.N. wiped the gel off her stomach, Marie reminded her to eat well and take her vitamins, setting the next appointment for four weeks.

Just as they were wrapping up, Kelly approached Aemond shyly, holding the printed scan pictures with an obvious blush on her cheeks.

Y.N. felt a flash of rage bubbling inside her as she watched the woman practically fawn over him. With a sharp tut, Y.N. snatched the pictures from Kelly’s hands, her patience at its limit. She spun on her heel and walked out of the room without a word.

Behind her, she could hear Marie scolding Kelly. “You need to be more professional, young lady.”

Aemond quickly followed Y.N., not saying a word as they left the building and headed toward the car.

Once inside, Y.N. handed Aemond one of the scan pictures. She watched as he stared at it, his expression softening with awe.

“Are you okay?” Y.N. asked gently, her anger at Kelly fading.

Aemond swallowed, his voice quiet. “There’s really a baby in there.”

Y.N. rolled her eyes slightly, scoffing. “Surely you didn’t think I was lying.”

“No, not for a second,” Aemond replied, his eye still fixed on the picture. “It’s just-being there, seeing the baby moving around. It’s real. There’s going to be a tiny person who’s going to depend on me, and-I don’t want to mess it up.”

Y.N. reached over and took his hand, her thumb stroking his knuckles. “You won’t mess it up, Aemond.”

He shook his head, a worried look crossing his face. “How can you be so sure? My father wasn’t exactly present, I have no idea how to be a good father.”

Y.N. nodded, understanding his fear. “I know how you feel. I have no idea who my father is, and I never had a mother. I’m terrified too. But all we can do is be there for this baby and support each other. Sure, there’ll be ups and downs, but we’ll get through it together.”

Aemond looked at her, a grateful smile pulling at his lips. “Thank you,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Y.N. blushed slightly, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice.

Before she could say anything else, Aemond’s expression changed to something more mischievous. “By the way, I’m taking you back to my penthouse.”

Y.N. raised an eyebrow, smirking. “And what makes you think I want to go there?”

Aemond grinned, leaning closer. “Because if you do then I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue” he whispered teasingly.

Y.N.’s cheeks flushed a deep red as she tried not to smile. Aemond chuckled as he started the car, the tension from earlier melting away as they drove back to his penthouse.

The night was spent with Aemond keeping to his word and doing that thing with his tongue that Y.N liked before he fucked her into the mattress, thrusting his cock inside her with a series of deep measured thrusts that made her toes curl.

Y.N. smiled with satisfaction as she carefully placed the restored book into a protective sleeve, feeling a deep sense of accomplishment.

The book had been her focus for weeks, and now, it was ready for the customer to collect. Mr. Howlett, her boss, marvelled at her delicate work.

"Exceptional job as always, Y.N.," he praised, gently handling the book. "I’ll contact the customer to let them know it's ready for pickup."

As he placed the book behind the counter, he added, "By the way, you have a visitor."

Y.N. sighed as soon as she spotted Jace hovering by one of the display shelves.

She approached him, and Jace immediately pulled her into a hug. Y.N. stiffened, awkwardly stepping out of his embrace.

"What are you doing here, Jace?" she asked, her tone clipped but controlled.

Jace gave her a sheepish look. "I was wondering if we could go out for lunch and talk."

Against her better judgment, Y.N. agreed. Mostly because she was hungry and because she needed to tell Jace the truth about Aemond being the father of her baby.

She excused herself to Mr. Howlett before they headed to the café on the corner.

Once inside, Y.N. ordered a cheeseburger with fries and extra pickles, while Jace opted for an all-day breakfast. They sat in awkward silence until Jace finally broke it.

"Are you still set on us being over?" he asked quietly, his voice uncertain.

Y.N. sighed, nodding. "Yes, Jace. I’m pregnant with another man’s child. How could we possibly get back together?"

Jace leaned forward, his expression desperate. "I want to be with you. I’m willing to help raise the baby."

Y.N. was about to respond when their food arrived. She thanked the waitress before immediately reaching for her pickles, devouring them. Jace watched her with mild disgust, but Y.N. didn’t care.

"What?" she snapped, catching his look. "I’m hungry."

Jace just shrugged and started eating his own food.

Halfway through her burger, Y.N. wiped her mouth and took a deep breath. "Getting back together isn’t what I want, Jace. I meant it when I said it was over between us."

Jace swallowed the food in his mouth, his eyes hardening. "Is it because of Sara?"

Y.N. shook her head. "No, it’s because I don’t love you anymore, and I’m pregnant with another man’s child. Getting back together is out of the question."

Jace’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. "Are you going to tell me who the father is?"

Y.N. hesitated, knowing how explosive this moment was going to be. "Promise me you won’t go ballistic."

Jace forced a smile, a weak lie in his voice. "I won’t. I promise."

Y.N. took a deep breath, steeling herself for the fallout. "The father is Aemond."

For a moment, Jace was quiet. Then, his face twisted in anger. "My uncle?" he hissed, standing up abruptly. "You slept with my uncle? How desperate are you to spread your legs for him?"

Y.N. flinched, but her anger quickly flared. "Are you calling me a whore?"

"Yes!" Jace spat, his voice rising as people in the café began to stare. "My uncle, Y.N.? After all the trouble me and Luke have had with him over the years, and you go and get pregnant with his baby?"

Y.N. glanced around nervously, her voice low but urgent. "Jace, keep your voice down. People are staring."

"I don’t care!" Jace shouted, ignoring her plea. "I was a fool to think we could get back together. There’s no way I’m raising Aemond’s kid."

"No one asked you to," Y.N. retorted, her voice trembling with emotion. "And as for getting back together, you’re the one who kept pushing for it."

Jace scoffed. "You have no standards, Y.N. How could you let that animal touch you?"

"Aemond isn’t an animal!" Y.N. shouted back, her face flushed with fury.

"Of course he is," Jace growled. "Don’t you remember when he threatened to kill Luke?"

"That was said in a rush of anger!" Y.N. snapped. "And Luke was the one who slashed out Aemond’s eye and wasn’t punished for it."

Jace sneered at her, his voice dripping with disdain. "You’re pathetic, defending him like this. He attacked me and Luke first, and now you’re pregnant with his child."

Y.N. shot back, "That’s because you spent years bullying him!"

Jace’s eyes narrowed. "You only know what he told you."

Y.N. shook her head. "Actually, it was Helaena who told me what happened."

Jace scoffed bitterly. "Well, I hope Mr. Moneybags is worth it."

Y.N. felt tears sting her eyes, her voice breaking as she replied, "How can you say that when you live off your mother’s money? At least Aemond works for his."

Jace’s face twisted in rage. "Aemond knocked you up but won’t marry you. What does that tell you?"

Y.N. shot back, "He actually offered to marry me, but I turned him down."

Before Jace could respond, the café owner appeared, looking stern.

"That’s enough. You’re upsetting the lady and causing a scene. It’s time for you to leave."

Jace glared at Y.N. before snapping, "With pleasure!" He stormed off, slamming the door behind him.

The owner turned to Y.N., his voice gentle. "Are you all right, miss?"

Y.N. nodded, but the moment he asked, the emotions overwhelmed her, and she burst into tears.

Aemond sat behind his desk, feeling the strain of the day weighing heavily on him.

His head throbbed as his eye strained from staring at reports for hours. With a frustrated groan, he took off his eyepatch and rubbed the sides of his head, hoping to relieve some of the pressure.

Just as he was about to relax for a moment, his phone rang. Y.N.'s name flashed on the screen, and he answered immediately, his heart pounding.

"Hello? Y.N.?"

But instead of her familiar voice, a man answered, “Hello, is this Aemond Targaryen?”

Aemond's heart raced even faster. “Yes, where is Y.N.?” he demanded, standing up abruptly from his desk.

“She’s with me, but she’s very upset. She asked for you,” the man explained, his voice calm but concerned.

“Where are you?” Aemond barked, already reaching for his jacket and eyepatch.

The man gave him directions to a nearby café. Without another word, Aemond hung up, and told his assistant to cancel his meeting later that day. He sprinted to his car, the only thought in his mind being Y.N.

In record time, he arrived at the café and scanned the room until he saw her, huddled in the corner. The moment their eyes met, Y.N. rushed into his arms, her body trembling as she buried her face in his chest.

"Do you think I'm after your money?" she asked, her voice cracking with emotion.

Aemond cupped her face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. "Fuck no. What’s going on?"

Y.N. took a shaky breath. "Jace showed up at my work, and I agreed to go to lunch with him to tell him who the father of the baby is."

Aemond’s face hardened. "I guess he didn’t take it well."

She shook her head. "No. He basically called me a whore-and referred to you as moneybags"

Aemond scoffed, his lips curling into a sneer. "He lives off a generous allowance from Rhaenyra. How dare he say that to you?"

Y.N. sniffled. "I-I don’t care about your money."

“I know that,” Aemond said softly, stroking her cheek. “Jace is just a piece of shit.”

“He might come after you,” Y.N. worried aloud.

Aemond's eye narrowed, his voice cold. “Let him try. He’ll be missing a few teeth if he does. He’s jealous, Y.N., plain and simple. And I don’t for one second think you’re after my money. You have your own job, and you’re incredibly talented.”

Y.N. blushed at his praise, and Aemond smirked, pulling her closer. “Let’s get out of here. We’ll go back to my place, snuggle up, order takeout, and watch a movie of your choice.”

Her smile returned, even if just a little. “Deep Blue Sea.”

Aemond groaned playfully. “What is it with you and shark movies?”

Y.N. shrugged with a giggle, and Aemond chuckled softly.

Before they left, Aemond thanked the café owner for taking care of Y.N.

“It’s no trouble,” the owner replied kindly. “No one deserves to be spoken to like that.”

Aemond thanked him again and took Y.N.’s hand, leading her to his car.

Once back at his penthouse, Aemond immediately ran her a bath, telling her to relax and that she could wear one of his T-shirts and shorts when she was done.

“I’ll get the takeout menus ready for when you’re out.”

As Y.N. soaked in the bath, Aemond made a call to Rhaenyra. He wasn’t exactly fond of his half sister, but over time, they had managed to put aside their differences for the sake of the family business. Still, he couldn’t let Jace’s behaviour slide.

“Rhaenyra,” he greeted when she answered, "I need to talk to you about Jace."

She sighed on the other end of the line. "I already know. Jace called me earlier, ranting about it."

Aemond’s tone remained firm. “Regardless of what has happened between us in the past, Jace shouldn’t have spoken to Y.N. like that. I never expected to get her pregnant, but it happened, and I will do everything in my power to protect her and our child.”

Rhaenyra was quiet for a moment before saying, “I’ll deal with Jace. I hope Y.N. is all right.”

“She will be,” Aemond replied, his gratitude evident in his voice. "Thank you."

Just as he hung up, Y.N. emerged from the bathroom, dressed in his oversized T-shirt and shorts, her hair damp and loose around her shoulders.

She looked more at ease, and Aemond smiled at the sight, his cock responding in earnest to the sight of her dressed in his clothes.

“Pick out what you want to eat,” he said, handing her the menus as he willed away his erection.

She had just started browsing when the doorbell rang. Aemond groaned, walking to the door. He opened it to be instantly greeted by Aegon and Daeron.

Aegon shoved a case of beer into Aemond's arms, and Daeron waved a deck of cards in his face. “Don’t tell me you forgot about game night.”

“Well, I—” Aemond began, but he stopped when both his brothers noticed that Y.N. was standing in the living room, dressed in Aemond’s clothes.

The atmosphere instantly shifted, both brothers grinning mischievously.

“Oh,” Aegon drawled, eyeing them both with interest. “Not interrupting anything are we?"

TBC

[unhinged-waterlilly]

Hello!

Something about @/demigod-jack-hearth

Something I wanna say about this post (with my reblog on it). I wanna give a side of a story. Mine to be exact.

They were one of the first people I talked to outside of rp. They were a close friend. But that fades.

I DONT WANT THEM TAGGED IN THIS I DONT WANT THEM TO KNOW ABOUT THIS. I HAVE THEM BLOCKED. IF THEY LEARN ABOUT THIS, IT IS BECAUSE SOMEONE SEND THIS TO THEM.

Tw: sa, strong language, I'm a little bitch, please please please read at your own risk

When start this by saying Jack worries me. I've seen so many post, rp or otherwise, where they bring up extremely triggering comments...just randomly. This has happened to me too. I don't get bothered by them I've been lucky enough to not deal with most and be comfortable with what I have dealt with. I think he needs professional help. Or to talk to someone that is an adult. This is difficult for some people. But there are free therapy websites out there. I have seen them. I have participated in them. The people on the other line aren't professionals but they are people willing to listen. And adults.

It started with when I saw an rp they had with camp Sky. I can't give screenshots of that but I do have some of confronting them.

Now all good right? Yeah! I thought so too. Untill an anon confronts em.

Posts here and here

Oh...kay? What's wrong about this?

Yeah...

Actively calling out anon

Now mind me I thought they had buried this au deep deep into the ground. Wasn't until I opened Circe's blog that I realised they didn't. I was pissed. I had every reason to be. We have so few stories of male victims as it is and this 'au' was blatantly disrespectful to victims of all genders. I felt really fucking disrespected that's for sure.

Unfortunately I don't confront them. But I do vent.

Now I feel bad for this. Maybe this was dirty laundry I shouldn't have aired out. But I was just so angry I couldn't think properly. I didn't mention Jack in this post, but friends figured it out. I won't say who these friends are for obvious reasons. Also, this is a bit wrong. They thought Odysseus cheated with only Circe, and Calyspo was SA. I got that wrong, and I admit it. I only remembered that when I scrolled up our dm to take a screenshot of it.

Now I wanted to leave that convo because I wasn't in the mood for arguing, and I've learned to give people what they want, which makes em and yourself stop. My fault again.

Things happen. It leads to the apology. Now, obviously, I can't tell if an apology is genuine through a screen, and I am most certainly a pessimist. So, like, I don't think it is. Also, I'm almost certain that most was written by whoever the friend was who 'helped' em.

Sure, people can change, but not enough times do they actually. Just look on the Internet. And real life. A person like Jack, well, they've talked to me enough to know it is most likely not the case. If they were so angry at a piece of good criticism, then I don't have much hope.

Am I an angry person ? Yes. Do I think I have the right to be? Yes. Am I also a logical person? I believe so. The people I've asked think so, too. I don't dislike something for no reason. But I do dislike things. What I do like is reasons for my dislikes. With me so far?

Good. Moving on.

After the apology and after I finally got my thoughts in order, I sent them a message because they tagged me. A lot.

This is what I sent. It's emotional, but in my opinion, it also makes sense. I was mad they lied to me. I was mad they twisted the story so. Fucking. Much. Odysseus isn't a rapist and Circe isn't an innocent flower. That is not what an AU is. What was their reaction to this? Nothing. To me at least.

A mutual friend told me they sent the last half of my messages and told them that they were angry I. Didn't. Thank. Them. For. The. Apology. Take that for what you will.

Now they made another post replying to the first anon who criticized them. I've read it. And when I tell you it is so fulled with self-pity-

I haven't collected my thoughts properly about this so this is bad and more emotion than the above. but this is the basic things behind it.

1) never directly addressing what he did and constantly tell em to read the apology. Don't wanna repeat yourself. How much time is it gonna take out of your day exactly?

2) not acknowledging the fact the male sa victim. At all. They don't say anything about it. No 'my condolences'. No 'I'm so sorry that happened to you' . Not acknowledging how terrible of a thing that is. At all.

3)says they aren't gonna defend themself... and defend themselves

4) have yet to tell us who these people are. Which is just bad cuz there are people out there who are okay with this. If they were IRL friends just say that.

5) it felt just fucking dull

Maybe this isn't right. Maybe you disagree with these points. But do not tell me you disagree with the rest.

I wanna end this by saying I am victim of SA. Did I tell him this? No. Maybe I should've. I don't feel comfortable sharing it. Because remembring fucking hurts. Remembering means crying and opening the lights and either sitting or laying down on my back because I can still. Fucking. Feel. It. And I was nine.

I don't want your pity on this. I don't want you to say sorry. The people you should be saying sorry to are the people who are not believed when this happens. Feel sorry for the people who cannot report this stuff because they don't trust the people who are supposed to protect them. Feel sorry for the people who think it was their fault and they actually wanted it when they didn't. 63% of rape are not reported in females. Only 12% of child rapes are reported.

I can't find a clear fucking statistics on males.

Do you know how difficult it is for males to have any representation at all? How many male victims do you see online? Even Odysseus being regonized as one is recent. Fucking. Stop. This is more than a made up story. It means the world to some people. So this actually happen. It might mean everything. This was taken away from them from so many retellings. And a stupid fucking au.

If you want to talk about SA, wanna make a character out of it, learn about it first.

So I'm not going to forgive and I am definitely not going to forget. You can. If you want. I don't care if you do. But I ask you not to forget. Please.

I am tagging Jack's taglist

@zariahthewitch @thegroovydaughterofhestia @if-chaos-was-a-boy @the-gods-strange-children @silena-daughterofaphrodite @fabulousdaughterofhecate @weakest-son-of-sun @chaos-pers0nified @neoptolemus-achilles-son @bast-the-best26 @goddess-of-bubblegum @hispanic-child-of-hermes @gaygirldoodles @luck-is-crucial @reyna4ever @vicious-daughter-of-zeus @feral-hermes-child @oopsies-i-did-a-thing @unfortunate-daughter-of-hestia @that-girl-cupid @ariathemortal @love-lightning-forethought @emdabitchass @kaiaalwayswins @champion-of-revenge @zoe-aura-of-d3ath @itsyourboyezra @lunar-eklipso-r @pink-koi-lovejoy @that-daughter-of-athena @sleepy-as-a-song @smileyalater @gellyhelio @daughter-ofthe-moontitan @demeters-daughter-is-done @the-smart-and-the-dumb-one @trinket-snatcher @creature-under-ur-bed @burnt-out-bitxhes @cloak-of-ares @heraaaaaaaa @unproblematic-hestia @i-was-never-sane

[authorred]

Die With A Smile | Li Shen/Zayne x gn!Reader | Love and Deepspace

➺ Preface: After a particularly bad run-in with a wanderer, you're left essentially dying on site. You know this will not bode over well for a certain doctor-friend of yours, so you force yourself up and onwards. Both you and Zayne have to reconcile the fact that you almost died without seeing each other for almost a month.

➺ I know I already posted a song-fic for this song but goddammit I keep seeing edits for this shit on my fyp and I love this song so mf much that I can't myself ( I also have an unhealthy obsession with Zayne ).

Maybe I'll do a Sylus version??? However the hell I'll do that.

→ Song

Warning(s): Mentions of extensive wounds, blood

Oh god, Zayne is going to kill me.

Your skin is warm and sticky; a disconcerting feeling. What remains of your clothes is glued to your skin in blood and sweat, most of it yours. You don't know why, but for some reason, Wanderers love to dick with you as if you're a hot commodity. You were just trying to do your job as a Deepspace Hunter, which you succeeded at technically, but, now your injuries are catching up to you.

You're starting to feel lightheaded and stumbling on your feet. You don't know if you've broken any bones, but all you know is that every part of your body hurts and trying to blink takes all of your energy.

Goddammit, if Zayne sees me he's going to be so mad. Or sad. Or both. I didn't even text him today--I should've texted him.

You stumble from the remains of where the protocore field emerged. You can feel the warmth of your blood spilling down your leg and flooding your boots. It’s an absolutely unnerving sensation. You have to find a way to the hospital. You need to get help. You can’t die. Not like this. Not before you see Zayne.

~

You were going to kill him. No, not kill, perhaps that’s too far. But you were going to scold him, chastise him like a worried mother. Zayne has been pushing himself again, not taking breaks or sleeping for more than five hours. He’s been using the on-call rooms in Akso or sleeping in his office. He doesn’t know why he does this. Perhaps he’s stressed because you haven’t texted him in several days and he’s unknowing to your severe injuries. It’s a way to cope. Because if he didn’t, he’d go mad.

So why.

Why?

Why is he staring at several paramedics rolling you into the hospital, covered in blood and unconscious? Is that what you’ve been doing all this time? Being reckless? Risking your life? Again?

He stands there, rooted to the linoleum, watching you be rolled into the OR for emergency surgery. He doesn’t know what’s wrong—eyeballing it he could tell you’re suffering from many lacerations. But what if there’s more? What if your heart is giving out?

It’s not until the hospital begins to settle again that he’s able to move. Swallowing thickly and moving like a ghost back to where he’s needed.

~

Hours pass—two hours, specifically. Zayne stands in your hospital room staring at your sleeping figure. Covered in bandages and bruises alike, his eyes are filled with trepidation belying fear and concern. The pain you must’ve went through to trek all the way to Akso Hospital—the amount of blood you lost. Too stubborn for your own good. He can’t linger, he has other duties to attend to. But he wants to—gods, he wants to.

Stepping up to the side of your bed, his hand reaches out. His fingertips brush against the palm of your hand, gently trailing them up your wrist and arm. Featherlight touches to prove you’re here, alive, breathing. His virescent eyes comb up and down your body. “How reckless,” he whispers. “And here I thought you were simply lost with no reception.”

No response, as he expected.

With a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, Zayne retracts his hand and places it back in his coat pocket. With one last lingering look, he turns and walks away from your hospital bed. He has work to finish, and you’re stabilized and alive. At least he’s assured in that regard. He can go on with the rest of his day without that aching, gnawing anxiety in his chest. It’s a relief, really.

~

When you wake up, you have no idea where you are at first. You’re completely disoriented and lost. You vaguely remember trying to navigate your way through a town on the outskirts of Linkon, and then after that, the memories are fuzzy.

You look to your side, your vision severely blurred. You can see a person sitting in the chair next to your bed, resting. You recognize the shape of their body immediately. “Zayne?” Comes your hoarse, weak voice. Even that’s enough to rouse him from his sleep—or maybe he wasn’t even fully asleep in the first place.

Zayne sits up straight when he sees you’re awake before standing. “Y/n,” he says, almost in surprise. “You’re awake. With the amount of sedatives in your body, you should still be asleep.”

“I can’t move my body,” you chuckle softly, but it sounds like a sad whimper instead. “Maybe that’s where they went. . .”

Zayne sighs at your attempt of jokes in your state. “Should I ask what happened this time?”

“I think you know.”

Zayne gazes down at you, his eyes slightly narrowed in worry. “You’re too reckless. Please, put some value on your life before we’re unable to fix you.”

“I know,” you reply softly. “But you don’t seem the best either. I can still see those dark circles even through my fucked up vision. You’ve been overworking again, haven’t you?”

Zayne shifts like a kid getting caught before looking away, “I take naps during the day so I can be productive at night. And I’ve been eating well and hydrating. Truly, it’s not that bad.”

“Those dark circles say otherwise.”

A moment passes before Zayne looks at you again. “You were too close this time,” he says. “Your life was in a precarious position. You’re lucky we had the personnel available.”

“I know,” you repeat. “I know. I—I’ll be honest, I didn’t think. . . I didn’t think I’d make it.”

Zayne’s expression drops suddenly, but he lets you talk.

“All I remember thinking is that I needed to get to a hospital, to get help, because if I didn’t, I’d regret it. Regret not texting you, seeing you. I wanted to see you one more time, at least.”

Zayne’s face twitches, and he resists the urge to reach out and touch you. You need space. Your body needs time to heal. “I see,” he replies softly. “Is that what gave you strength to crawl to the doors of the hospital?”

“Yes,” you nod softly. “At least, if I died here, I’d be near you. And that’s enough for me.”

Zayne doesn’t say anything immediately. “I would be. . . in pain if you died,” he says quietly, doing best to articulate his feelings without coming off as too much. “I would miss you greatly. Agonizingly.”

“Tomorrow is never promised,” you say, gazing at him with such affection and favor he feels lightheaded from holding your gaze. “But if I die—if I die next to you, with you. . . I wouldn’t change a thing. I would die happy and content. Knowing you’re there.”

Zayne swallows, his Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down under his black dress shirt. “I believe it would be best if we promised each other. . . to not push ourselves too far.”

You chuckle softly, “Maybe. But whatever the case, I’m just happy you’re here.”

You add, “And when the day comes I do die, I’ll gladly die with a smile if you’re with me.”

[ninyard]

i am a BIG supporter of create what you want for your own joy, so absolutely do what you would like to do for the trial!! no one should be pressuring you to do it a specific way unless that’s how you Want to do it.

but if you were asking about what we’d like… personally i would love to see the whole trial as much as possible (i really don’t want you to overwhelm yourself) especially for higgin’s and nicky’s parts!! i like when we see more than just Big Main Parts, especially bc you flesh it out so well <3 sometimes it’s even more hard hitting when it’s Not from the people we expect, you know?

also, thank you for making the socmed aus!! they make me giggle and kick my feet every time, and also wail in agony and clutch at my chest… you have the range <3

GOD i wrote a whole long ass response to this and i didn't realise until too late that my phone was going to die </3 and it died </3

But it was something along the lines of I'm really glad that the general consensus seems to be to do all five days of the trial, or however many days it ends up being, from start to finish. For me personally it'd feel unfinished if I skipped parts just to get to the ~interesting~ parts, and I think if I'm going to make something like this then I want to show it all.

It's not this deep, but I guess it's like... It's fucked up. People are making memes about a murder trial involving rape and other things that are just not funny at all. And skipping parts just to get to "GOD NEIL IS SO CHAOTIC ON THE STAND" or whatever feels,,, insensitive? Unjust?? I don't know

but people are also doing that shit in real life. About real people, real trials, with real victims and real perpetrators. Sensationalising trials just because it's a celebrity on the stand, or it's an "interesting" murder trial or whatever. People are making memes and jokes about them. And people are making their own minds up about the verdict because of it. I want to show people who think Aaron's guilty because of something the cop who arrested him said. I want to show people who think Andrew is an unreliable witness because of something Higgins says, somebody who thinks Aaron isn't guilty because a forensics team mentioned something about the crime scene that they don't think sounds right. I want to make this from the outsider view on the publics reaction to a trial, and specifically people who almost idolise Aaron, or Kevin, or Neil, or Andrew. People who don't see them as human, but as celebrities, as people who are supposed to be perfect. People who see a trial like this and think, "it's okay for me to make jokes about this, or to post about this, because they're just famous people. They're not like real people to me."

People are at home becoming twitter lawyers and making up their minds based on what they read or see online, and it almost separates the reality of the situation from the "characters" that people create out of defendants and victims. You see people hopping on bandwagons or hate trains or whatever when it comes to these kind of public trials. People making clips of something "funny" a lawyer or witness said for the sake of content. People making temporary celebrities out of the judge and jury and legal representation. For what? For likes?

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want to show the different sides of how people actually react to trials like this without becoming insensitive to the fact that trials like this,,, do actually happen. But by making a fan tweet a joke about murder, I'm making that, I'm thinking of the words that go into the tweet. So it's tough. And again I know it's not that deep, but that's kind of... most of the reason why I've been putting it off? Because it's hard. It's hard not to feel like it sensationalises those kinds of things. It's hard not to feel like "God, am I just making fun of this situation here?" while also being reminded that yeah, maybe, but people actually react like that.

So is it worth the tumblr post to make memes and tweets out of something that happens irl, and affects real people? Is it insensitive, or is it just fandom stuff that isn't perceived in an insensitive way at all, because it is just that, a fandom post?

[creative-clawmarks]

I WILL NO LONGER LIE AND SAY I ONLY WANT TO PET MASKY.

Must. PET. EVERYONE.

They all deserve headpats.

YES. I am willing to sacrifice one of my hands when Alex eats it because that fucking bastard would- I DON'T CARE. HE WILL GET PATTED.

Get patted you fangy boy i love you >:[

I AM THE NATURE OF MAN WANTING TO PET EVERYTHING. AND I WILL NOT BE STOPPED.

( on a normal person, note I need to stop being obsessed with this so much it makes me scream in excitement when I see it. I am not okay. I've scared many people because I ACTUALLY audible scream in joy when I see you've posted. I'm fine I promise I just get too excited. I'm so sorry I'm not normal lol- )

*yes, this is the same asker who said they want to pet masky because pubby*

Oops, looks like you caught him at a vulnerable moment so instead of biting your hand off he just turned into a sobbing mess. Sorry to disappoint :)

(Also, don't apologize and don't worry about being normal. In fact you should scream louder and startle more people. Do it, ittl be funny lol.)

[quinngefail]

Tbh I was kinda just into the sketch look on these so :) maybe I'll fully finish this one or that one at some point, but. That's for later me lmao

So uh!! Was workin' from a request from @adamaus, for some comfort after waking from a nightmare..... Had a few ideas, to say the least-

Oh and I'm very open to more requests!! Can be vague or specific, or anything between :]

Some commentary + scrapped piece below the cut:

Okay so :) going through the pieces, in numerical order, from left to right:

1: Not the first sobbing session and absolutely not the last B') He's just a little bit turbo fucked up from that whole Jim Saw thing. JUST A LITTLE BIT 🤏

2: This was one of the first to come to mind for this!! Them just going out to the living room and putting a movie on, something I imagine they do pretty frequently to decompress and distract from things... And then one (or both) seems to always inevitably fall back asleep on the couch lol, which is obviously depicted here-

Then you got Lawrence looking at him. Just worrying

(Ft. His nightly guilt session 😋)

3: Okay I had to do at least one that had some humor in it lmao... Was imagining Lawrence softly speaking against Adam's head with these gentle affirmations. But not fully realizing that he may or may not be squeezing Adam just a little too tight there HSKGK

Lawrence Voice: I love you so much and I'm not going anywhere and I'm so sorry for everything I've done and I only ever want the best for you. I'm so sorry again for everything I've done and it was all my fault and I understand if you hate me. I'd hate me too if I were you

Impact font: ADAM IS DYING

4: NOT TOO MUCH TO SAY ON THIS ONE... Lawrence also getting his comfort is just very important to me orz

5: Okay this one and the movie one are defo my favorites here...... Just imagining Adam being this cute little bitch getting the blanket and making some tea and being all >8^} about it-

Das love, babey !!

6: Nothing much to say on this one either... They are just comfy cozy and Sad lol

Then uh, scrapped piece- just didn't really love this one, but. Posting it regardless for y'all 😤

That is all, thank you for viewing and reading !!! 🫶

[infamous-if]

Hey Ames👋. Hope you're doing good, and the chronic pain isn't too bad. Is the pain you have due to writer's cramp, or something else? (Sry if that's too personal a question, I don't mean to pry). Either way, praying for you to get well soon (not cause I want you to slave over Chapter 4 so it can be published sooner, on the contrary, I got writer's cramp A LOT in the past, especially during high school so I know how much it sucks). Pls take it easy and don't forget to drink some water! Also, are you by any chance still doing Cast Q&A's? If not, no problem, I don't want you putting too much strain on yourself I'm happy just waiting for whatever you feel you can handle rn to be published. Take care!

Hi and thank you!! Don’t worry, the pain is an Amy thing not a Writing thing haha and thank you :)

I still am! I made the post in band tier the other day. Usually I keep that for the end of the month. The O POV should be up late tonight or tomorrow. I’ve fixed prologue and chapter 1 errors so I’m slowly combing through ch2 🫡 and have finished outlining ch 4&5 so I’m getting stuff done! just slower than usual (for now) haha

[half-oz-eddie]

I do not want to do discourse but I am quite tired so feel free to scroll past this or ignore it idc

First and foremost I do not care if other positivity projects exist. They can exist in unique ways for unique reasons. It's a beautiful thing. I'm sure people love what they do and they're doing it for fun. Personally? I love what I do. A normal amount. And I do it my own way. Kinley Café is my heartbeat and it's always been a project that I deeply enjoy and that I am passionate about. I ask for nothing in return except the chance to touch other people's lives and make them smile by sending out your orders.

I am so comforted by the amount of love and support I receive. It's motivating and has helped me through difficult times. I have been so distracted spreading joy that I've basically breezed through what is usually the most difficult month of my life.

And yet. And yet!! I have been reported as spam so the café does not come up in searches (it's limited/partially shadowbanned I guess you can say. I constantly worry that this affects people getting notified when they receive treats because I want them to know someone is thinking of them. But I have been communicating with Tumblr about it, so don't worry too much). I have received phishing links in DMs and on the order form. And more recently, a password protected blog that hasn't had any activity in 40 days receives nearly a dozen notifications out of the blue because of a months old post circulating as some sort of gotcha, and I find out someone is telling people that I copied an idea (from myself btw) and sent out anons trying to encourage people to call me out over...stealing my own idea?

And I don't wanna hear "they didn't know it was me" because nobody asked me shit! I didn't show anybody any disrespect. In fact, I was being supportive! I showed love! I took the time out to make something because I wanted to continue to encourage the spread the positivity.

And yet, people made accusations even though I was being kind? Do you want a trampoline since you like fucking jumping to conclusions?

KC has been open for FIVE weeks. And I've dealt with all this in a short period of time for absolutely no reason. I've been nothing but kind and supportive of others. I genuinely and sincerely try my best.

I don't wanna let this taint something beautiful or let anything discourage me from doing this again. But I swear to god.....this shit is getting really annoying and bringing out the worst in me. lmao why am I fighting for my life during this little hiatus? I'm dedicating my free time to creating things, and collaborating with others just to spread love and kindness. I don't want anything but peace and quiet.

What's next? Do I have to keep dealing with dumbassery? Or can I go back to sending out treats and going on about my fucking business? Because I do not have time for this. I do not want all this static!!!

I've turned off reblogs. If you want to talk to me privately that's fine but this has been a little overwhelming and I just wanted to get this off my chest.

[vampiricgf]

WATER SONG [PT. 1]

merman leon x gov't researcher reader

word count : 7k+

warnings : female reader, reader has a sort of type A personality and some mild anger issues, talk of medical experiments, he's referred to as a subject and specimen quite a lot, descriptions of predatory behavior (animal kind, not the sexual kind), slow pace, sfw, lots of yearning for touch

okay part one isn't terribly exciting im sorry ajdgakab I just wanted to establish a connection between the reader and him in the setting n such before developing any deeper connection. also like 1% research went into this so im sorry if you're knowledgeable about oceanic research this'll probably piss you off lmao. also all credit for this au idea goes to @/bunnivievve tysm for letting me write a lil interpretation of your idea! this was inspired by this post of theirs as well ‹𝟹

JUNE

Subject Zero. 

Male, combined characteristics of humanoids and aquatic species. Captured by a trawling vessel, out in deep waters usually traversed by cargo freighters but occasionally by commercial fishing vessels. A freak happenstance. When the net had been dredged up in a fantastic spray of salt water, the hoard of tuna quickly spilling into the sorting containers, the men on deck had spotted something much larger than white fin tuna thrashing in the net. 

Upon careful inspection they feared they’d pulled up a man, some poor unfortunate victim of a seafaring disaster. A capsized or otherwise destroyed vessel, a near drowning victim that had fallen overboard perhaps. 

Until they spotted the flashing of sharp teeth, and the thick, muscled tail slamming against the wet metal under their feet. 

Thankfully their transmission to the Coast Guard was intercepted, a naval craft catching the broadcast and setting course as fast as possible for the trawler. 

And now Subject Zero finds respite in your “office”. If an office can be counted as more of an observation space, nevertheless. A part of you feels bad, the less scientifically trained and inclined part that is, for keeping such a clearly intelligent creature within a tank inside a black site. The initial placement had been… difficult. It was clear the subject missed the open ocean, and you did feel sorry that it had been so unceremoniously plucked from its home and deposited in such an alien space on land. But there was nothing to be done about it. 

He was far too valuable as a research opportunity. The cold, clinical part of your mind understood that. He was a marvel of nature, flesh and blood proof that man could be intermixed with seafaring species, it was one of the single greatest events in modern marine biology. And an immense privilege for you, the scientist chosen chiefly to study the subject. 

A dream. The government all but telling you to do whatever you deemed necessary, no concern over the expense. Gone were worries of securing grant funding for more piddling projects or the endless anxiety of thinking you would be stuck as one name in an endless list of names relegated to ordinary oceanic study. Not that your peers' works weren’t valuable, but you always held the selfish desire for notoriety. Had dreamed endlessly throughout your undergraduate program of the day your name would be the one filling up library indexes and publications with impressive, weighty studies. Discoveries so undeniable you would join the ranks of the most noteworthy in the field. 

And seemingly, your wish had been granted. Subject zero would be the gravel that paved your road to success. It’s just a pity it has to be such an intelligent creature. 

You sit back, uncuring from your hunched position at the desk, rolling your shoulders and wincing as you hear your joints popping. Documentation was a never ending pain in the ass but it had to be done, if you wanted to keep the convenience of not having to answer to nor justify your expenses to an overhead department. Ordinarily that work would be relegated to a lower priority researcher, but you preferred being able to sign off on it all yourself, comforted by the fact that there were no unforeseen surprises lurking in the documents or spreadsheets or data tables. Nothing anyone would be about to point out as a discrepancy, leaving you humiliated and floundering. 

As you close your eyes you can feel it, the hair on the back of your neck slightly on edge. The feeling of being observed. 

He seemed to prefer watching you when your back was turned or if you were otherwise unaware. If you were facing the ten foot thick glass of the massive elcousure he would recede into the farthest corners of it, shying away into watery obscurity. In a way it was cute, an obvious curiosity for the beings around him but he seemed stricken by shyness, didn’t know if you were trustworthy. Which was understandable. You were the one keeping him there, at least to his limited viewpoint. The one that denied him reentry into his former home. 

That irritatiningly scentimental part of your mind whispered to you again. 

What if he thinks you’re cruel?

So what? We don’t even know to what extend he does think. 

You say that but you do care, at least a little. Thats why you sneak him extra food. 

You sigh to yourself, pushing up from the familiar desk, palms flat on its slick glass surface before rising to your full height. Out of the corner of your eye you catch the white coat you don most of the day, every day, slung carelessly over the back of another chair at a separate station. Your badge attached via a shiny, silvery little clip. Walking over you purposefully keep your eyes directed away from the elcousure, your movements slow. This is a good opportunity to see how long he’ll watch you as long as he believes you aren’t paying attention. 

The badge is solid, though lightweight as you pick it up, bringing it closer to your face. It’s hard to believe you look so excited in the small picture in the upper lefthand corner. Your name in bold typeface as last name, first name all neatly lined up next to the photo. In it’s reflection you can see him, one hand perched against the glass, that thick midnight blue tail swishing up and down in a soft, rhythmic motion as he stays still. Ever watchful. 

Its hard to see in the little reflective glimpse but subject zero does have more… handsome features. You smile to yourself, recalling one of the other researchers giggling while telling you it wasn’t weird to note that because it was true. What man on land, with two legs, had eyes that shade of blue or a jawline that impressive? None that aren’t using photoshop or filters. 

Maybe if the discovery of the subject was publicized there would be throngs of people banging on doors trying to find out where he’s being kept. It did make you huff out a laugh, the idea that a half fish man who couldn’t speak was more appealing than the majority of men on earth. 

Maybe we should open an instagram page for him. 

You shake your head to yourself, still smiling, as you set the badge down. 

The office slash observation room remained quiet save for the occasional sound of sloshing water. It was late, well past time fo anyone other than the usual armed military guard to be roaming the facility. Well past time for you to go home. 

At that moment you turn, just enough to peek over your shoulder and as soon as your eyes fix on the spot he occupied all you catch is a low flash of dark blue, retreating into the shadowy depths encased in glass. 

~

OCTOBER

Three months of observation. 

Hardly enough to form any evidence based conclusions, but enough time to get started on the right path. You had approximately nintey days of solid data on his diet, his presenting condition each day, endless notes on his observable physiology. He preferred deep water fish, clearly an omnivore as he also didn’t mind the addition of oceanic plant species mixed with the fish when it was introduced into the tank. In fact he seemed to greatly enjoy the sudden introduction of variety, although still preferred to eat his meals in a semblance of solitude. 

His distrust was only natural, you had to remind yourself. Until such time as he’s fully used to his new environment you’re unlikely to observe any great variation in his behavior. 

At least he wasn’t showing signs of aggression. That had been a legitimate concern, and still was, of course. All proper safety precautions were followed to the letter when it came to subject zero, and absolutely no one was to physically get in the tank, not until further tests could be done on his temperament and how he reacted to certain stimuli both pleasant and unplseant. 

You grimace seeing a newly sent email notification, the little computerized ding signalling that your attention was required. 

When isn’t it?

You put the sleek desktop into split screen mode, keeping the charts on the subject to the left while your email opened to occupy the right side. Amid the usual low importance emails from general staff there was a new one, at the very top. The name made your stomach twist in preparation of the message. Dr. Gregg had, for lack of a better phrase, a raging hard on for the opportunity to remove the subject from the tank and getting it into a smaller one in order to sedate and extract genetic material. It didn’t matter that he’d already been sedated and had samples drawn when he was initially transported here, no. The good doctor wanted more than that, but you couldn’t accommodate the request in good conscience. 

Or rather, you were worried about the effect it would have on him. It could set back the last nintey days of progress, or worse, inspire severe mistrust and heightened aggression towards all researchers. There was no way, even with sedation, that cutting into him wouldn’t cause pain. And a source of pain that a creature like subject zero had no way of understanding would only lead to problems. 

The two of you had been butting heads over the issue for the last week, culminating in an argument yesterday where you all but told him to get fucked. You were the lead on this, you made the decisions and he wasn’t going to usurp your authority. Your credit. 

But as your eyes scan the email you can feel yourself getting physically hot, your blood pressure threatening to rise. 

You may be the lead, the head researcher on this project, but do not believe for one moment that I will not go above your head. You are not CIA, doctor. You don’t call the final shots here, and it would do you well to remember that. Whatever your personal feelings on subject zero, you cannot stand in the way of necessary elements that better out understanding of the creature. 

With shaking fingers you close the window, not bothering to respond and not trusting yourself to either. Every fiber of your being wanted nothing more than to march down that hallway and wring his wiry old turkey neck. Who does he think he is? He’s just some physiologist, some ancient fuck. Who is he to threaten you? If his contributions were so invaluable wouldn’t he have been made lead?

You squeeze your eyes shut, hands clenching in your lap as you breathed deeply in through your mouth and out through your nose. The meditation app you’d been using had provided you with some useful tools, being that your temper had plagued you since you were small. Always the first to fly off the handle at even the idea you could be questioned, your competence or credibility casted in doubt. 

Inferiority complex, a nasty voice giggled in your head. 

It’s not that it wasn’t true, and it was a bit of an achilles heel for you. But what took priority now was holding Gregg back, keeping him away from the subject and minimizing the risk that he could fuck it all up before you even had a chance to really begin. So, once you felt that initial flashpoint of rage quelling you reopened the email application, setting your shoulders back as you began typing. 

Under no circumstances are you permitted to sedate nor perform any surgical procedures on subject zero. You have not been given any formal authorizations, so it would do you well to remember not to threaten your head researcher in the contents of easily retrievable emails. You are free to broach the topic with any superior officer on sight, and I am more than happy to entertain a line of questioning from said superior officers on why I do not believe it to be prudent at this juncture to allow for another extraction of material. Research is not a race, Doctor. 

You can’t help but smile smugly to yourself, imagining his fury at opening your reply. If he thinks just because you’re young that you’re easily pushed around he is sorely mistaken. Nothing and no one is allowed to jeopardize the most important work you may ever do. 

With that you abandon the desk, it’s dull and mind numbing work, in favor of standing in front of the tank yet again. It was nice, having a portion of it extending into this area as an offshoot of the main tank where all the feeding and the bulk of physical testing was done. He seemed to enjoy it too, which despite yourself you did place some importance on. 

It was important to ensure he was as comfortable as possible. He was still a living being, despite his status as a research subject, and you took no pleasure in the idea of him suffering in any way. It was definitely a slight drawback, you could begrudgingly admit, that you tended to get… overly attached to the species in your care. You’d done the same in both undergrad and postdoc, although it was more important than ever before to keep a tight hold on those tendencies now. 

How would you feel, if you knew that man was so hell bent on slicing you open? 

Probably afraid. 

What are you feeling now?

It would be so much easier if he were capable of speech. The bridges that had to be built between what was known and unknown had to come from the very foundations, things that required occasionally unpleasant experiences in order to build their understanding of him. But if he could just explain some of it, that would be easier. A half formed bridge is faster to finish than one from scratch. 

Uselessly you peered into the clear, clean water. Between swaying stalks of plants there was nothing to see except the seemingly endless expanse of water. Several mind boggling tonnes of it, all kept nicely contained in ten foot thick military grade glass. Bulletproof. Shatter proof. Even if subject zero were to ram it with intent, crack it even, it would still hold. 

You couldn’t help but wonder, as you remained staring through that glass, if he was lonely. Seeing so many strange, upright walkers but being unable to even touch them, even consider the act of doing it. 

As you frown at your own reflection, you feel it again. 

Duel observation.

~

It was bizarre, to him. These two legs, tall men. He knew they existed, they’d always known a different sort of being lived on the land, domineered it and then took to making attempts at dominating the sea as well. It had all become so noisy, so very nearly unbearable thanks to their hulking monstrosities of shining metal and the things they constantly kept dumping into the water.

Every day there were new threats to avoid. Long gone were the days of simply worrying about other predators lurking in the open waters or within the sediment and foliage. 

He hadn’t seen the net, as they called it, until it was too late. Had been too caught in the euphoria of finding such a gigantic school of gorgeous, meaty tuna, that his mind switched off to everything but pure instinct as he’d circled them quickly, calculatedly. His jaw had felt the ache of hunger so viscerally it was like the bones themselves were vibrating with it. 

And then they’d all begun moving. Swept up, trapped in an upward drag that he’d been powerless to fight against while overwhelmed by the wriggling, frantic fish flashing across his vision, no way to know what was forwards or backwards, up or down. 

Then the shock of air. His lungs had seized up painfully with it, the feeling of being constricted by nothing at all yet everything all at once had been horrific, beyond frightening. 

After that it was too messy, too jumbled in his mind. Harsh sounds, their sounds, were prevalent in his memory but just beyond his grasp. Far too loud without the water to act as a buffer between, softening the blows of each reverberation against his eardrums. 

But her sounds were different. Or, it was that she didn’t make many to begin with. The look of them all was mostly similar from behind the thick material they kept him in, in this unknown space. At least they offered readily available food, although not nearly what he was used to hunting for himself and his webbed fingers itched at the thought of clawing through water in pursuit of some darting piece of prey. It would feel so, so good to sink his teeth into flesh, to feel it rip and catch in chunks between his teeth, the iron rich scent of blood swirling around. The roar of adrenaline in his ears. 

It was difficult to keep his focus on much here, save for her. The best parts were when the others disappeared but she would still be in that corner, down the long corridor of water and he would be able to see her, sitting and doing wholly alien things with her hands at something large and flat, but vaguely shiny. Hers didn’t have webbing, none of them did from what he could tell. How did they ever swim competently? 

She was softer than the rest and he enjoyed watching her do her strange tasks, sometimes she would pace around holding a sheet of paper in her hands, chewing on her bottom lip. Her teeth didn’t seem all that sharp, since she never seemed worried about cutting her flesh on them. What did they eat, with useless teeth? 

Just like at the present moment, with her back turned it was easier to look at her fully. Usually he wouldn’t approach openly like this, unsure of the intentions of everyone here, but this space seemed to be reserved for her only which put him at ease. That and none of those harsh spotlights were present, if anything she seemed to prefer it half dark which was fine by him, preferable to that loud bright area behind him back through the water corridor. But she seemed tense, the set of her shoulders curled forward, almost in on herself. Something in front of her was clearly upsetting and in some odd way he felt offense on her behalf. She was kind, gave him extra food before she would disappear through the night, always seemed to be keeping a close watch over him and how the others were with him. 

He may not be able to speak, but he’s pretty sure she was the reason he wasn’t suffering in this place. And that was good enough, at present, to make him feel a sense of kinship with her. Closeness. 

As she carried on with whatever it was that kept her so occupied his mind wandered to what it would feel like to touch her. They seem to enjoy touch, most of them being very casual with the way they interacted. How did she like being touched? Or would she dislike being touched by him outright? Would she find his webbed, clawed fingers disgusting, would she flinch away?

He frowned behind the glass. Hopefully not, but there really was no way to know. They seem intent on keeping a wide distance from him, which wasn’t unwelcome. The only one he was at all curious about was her anyway, not that he would purposely antagonize anyone who ventured inside his new domain, though he certainly wouldn’t circle them like one of the friendly, if a little dumb, nurse sharks do occasionally out in open water. 

He was so caught up in that worry he nearly failed to catch her movement, but his reflexes are faster than hers. Before she could approach the glass fully he’d already retreated a safe distance away. Watching as she stared into the expanse of water, her face unreadable but the set of her eyebrows told him she felt some kind of stress, strain. 

His fingers twitched at his sides, thinking about reaching out to touch her again.

~

You smile to yourself, a soft hidden kind, at the now familiar feeling. It was like there was a strange sense of understanding between you two, although you could just be ascribing things to him he doesn’t possess. Thats always something to keep in mind, as a researcher but more often than not lately you’re coming to resent that line of thought. It was clear subject zero was intelligent. Maybe not to the degree of a human being, but he was close enough evolutionarily speaking, that he was like a cousin in the chain. An offshoot of the formerly solidly established line of human life. Theres no reason, as yet identified, that he wouldn’t be able to communicate if given the chance to learn how. 

You aren’t thinking of him as a subject anymore. That’s dangerous. 

You know it is, know that voice is right. But it doesn’t account for everything. The odd push and pull, hide and seek game you two play here in this office every single evening. Its to the point now that you feel tense, uncomfortable if you don’t sense him behind you, watching you work or pace around nonsensically. You’ve spent over an hour before reading and rereading the same observational notes and data sets because you kept grinning to yourself like a fool feeling those eyes burning holes in your back. 

He’d even made appearances in your dreams a handful of times over the last month, flashes of deep, endless blue that clung to the soft corners of your mind as you went about your morning routines, ruminating over his appearance as steam from your coffee curled around your hands, ghostly fingers clawing at the air. Tension crept up your beck, spreading out over the tops of your shoulders and trapezius muscles prompting you to stretch against the back of your office chair, rolling your joints and hearing their familiar cracking in response to hours of sustained poor posture. Lazily you grasp your phone from the desk, thumbing open the music app and scrolling a bit through your shuffle playlist before settling on something bubbly, but easily tuned into the background. 

You wonder if he enjoys music, what his preferences would be if he could swipe through your library of songs. It makes you smile to yourself thinking about it, maybe that would make for a good test of his thinking abilities, how he responds to different genres, different artists. Standing, you bend slightly to make a quick note on a half discarded sticky tab: musical testing?

And suddenly a somewhat mad thought grips you, what if you tried right now? Whats the worst that could happen, he lurks in the background while you sway around the dim office like a fool? At least the only people who could see would be the guards, not that they’d say anything either beyond thinking to themselves that every researcher here must be insane. That makes your smile grow wider, giggling to yourself a bit as you take slight steps in time with the beat, giving a little spin on your toes to face the take. 

It only somewhat shocks you to find yourself face to face with him, that he hasn’t retreated to the safety of the shadowy corners. His eyes, a remarkably similar color to the water surrounding him, track your movements with abject curiosity as you follow an imaginary path, one foot placed delicately in front of the other to carry your body with the faint sound of the music. All the while his eyes never stray from you, even when he has to move to keep you in his sights, even when you come right up to the glass and offer a little spin in front of him, giggling to yourself a little more freely now. 

And to your amazement, at your laughter, he smiles. He smiles and it makes your chest feel light, like a ten pound weight you hadn’t even been aware of was finally lifted off. Some might find his fanged appearance frightening, to you it was boyishly cute. A toothy little grin, the tips of his elongated enscisors catching against his bottom lip, and his thick, muscular tail began to move. As if, had he possessed legs like yours, they would be moving in tandem with you. 

It felt like a genuine breakthrough, making you hug your arms around yourself as you stopped moving, still laughing and feeling just a tad bit lightheaded. He genuinely smiled at you. 

He was moving with you. 

That was a major breakthrough, even if just a personal one. Increased rapport meant things would be easier going forward, for both of you. 

With a contented sigh you pressed one hand to the smooth, icy surface of the glass, your fingers stretching over the sleek glass and he does something that makes your breath freeze in your lungs. Gingerly, the way people stretch out their hands to scared animals, inch by inch his own rases to be a perfect mirror of your own. One larger, webbed, hand pressed to the glass right behind your own. It felt silly but you were too afraid to even exhale with any effort, for fear even the barest noise would ruin the moment and he would flee right back into the far corners, beyond your reach. 

But he doesn’t, doesn’t stop holding your gaze for a single second and you marvel at the way his blonde hair sways in the water, like the finest strands of silk-

“So, thats why you keep refusing to allow any progress of this “research”?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the voice from behind you, a signature grating tone you could pick out anywhere. As your head snaps to the side, body following the movement only a second after, you see him standing in the door way with his arms crossed nearly reeking of smugness. 

Fuck. 

~

One week. 

You have one week to figure out what to do. 

After shattering your late night revelation with subject zero, who has been increasingly attached to you ever since, the resident pain in your ass physiologist had made sure to fire off emails riddled with concerns and accusations addressed to the operatives truly in charge of the site. Questions of your ability to continue in any capacity with the project, the nature of your relationship to the subject, insinuating you had some kind of perverse intention, even going so far as to insult your credibility. Not only cc-ing yourself but “mistakenly” sending those emails to every person working on site.

It had effectively turned you into a pariah with regards to your peers. Whispers of conversation that would be cut off as soon as you set foot into a room. Strange looks from your coworkers, ranging from disgust to perverse curiosity. It felt like you were continuously on fire, every minute of every day. There would be a meeting in one weeks time, and until then you were relegated to nothing but the paperwork in your office, per the tense instructions given to you.

But your panic had less to do with your professional reputation, surprisingly, and more to do with feeling very nearly physically sick when you recalled how fixated he was with the idea of getting to cut into subject zero. If you were removed completely from this project there would be no one else to act as a roadblock, to keep that from happening. 

Your eyes slide over to the observation tank, noting the worried way he’s been watching you for hours now. You wished you could haul him out of there, explain what was happening, the risk of what could happen to him. Maybe he would have some idea of how you both could get out of this. But was there any way out? Or is the only option allowing yourself to become a laughingstock, a professional embarrassment and to allow subject zero to languish in whatever horror would surely be inflicted on him? 

You can’t say if desperation is the only thing motivating you, but your mind becomes mostly blank as you leave the office. Its early enough, after you’d been practically climbing up the walls all night, so maybe the choice was fueled by sleep deprivation. Whatever the case may be, you find yourself moving as if through a dream: down the cavernous corridors, turning and twisting to follow the slate grey concrete all the way to the impossibly large main observation chamber. 

With a swipe of your ID card, forcefully and defiantly, the locks give a little beep before disengaging. Mechanically you make your way to where the suits are stored. Specially designed, one of a kind. Made of an interwoven, enmeshed material not unlike chainmail to prevent sharp teeth from being able to puncture both cloth and flesh, and featuring only the best in terms of diving design. The manufacturer had created them after winning a defense contract from the governenment and you wonder if they ever would have guessed someone would be stripping and tugging the suit on in order to come face to face with something most people would assume only existed in a fairytale. 

But here you are: yanking and adjusting the suit before prepping the oxygen tank, also designed to be compact but sacrificing the amount of time one could spend fully submerged at any depth. Either way it would work for this application, although no one had been given clearance to dive yet. 

You knew doing this would come back to bite you far worse than just those vendetta fueled emails. Diving without any clearance, using untested equipment. It was beyond insane. But the circumstances felt insane enough on their own to justify it. Subject zero was overwhelmingly likely to be just as intelligent as you were, and just as likely to feel physical and mental distress in similar ways. Trying to communicate was step one and what better way than face to face. Then you could form step two: proving beyond a reasonable doubt that he was intelligent and thus, could be advocated for medically even if he couldn’t advocate for himself. 

That was the only way to halt the now speeding train of decisions being made on his behalf and without his input. If he could even write out the most barebones statement, even that would work to prove they needed consent to continue with any of this. Tomorrow you could wake up in a whole new world, one where there is technically a second legal classification of human being, one with a tail and gills. The though made you smile despite the tense circumstances. 

What you were doing was a halfcocked, absolutely batshit attempt at a hail mary but it was worth a shot. Your reputation was already in tatters on site, how much worse could it be? If you fail in this all that happens is you’re dismissed and removed from the site, doomed to be a whispered footnote for future researchers. Did you ever hear about the lady that went crazy with one of the subjects? A cautionary tale about getting too attached to your work. 

But fuck that. If you’re not at least a little attached to your work then do you even really care at all about any of it? You would argue that the resident physiologist holds no love for the work, only a love for the idea of something else experiencing pain.

With a deep breath you sit carefully on the steel ledge that runs the length of the tanks open ceiling. Easy, you just flip backwards and hit the water, reorient yourself and try not to get eaten by one potentially pissed off subject. Yeah, a real piece of cake. With that you decide theres no more time to waste, it’s probably already flagged in the system that you accessed the main deck, they’ll be here any minute. 

Good, that means they can all see I’m not insane or inappropriate. He can comprehend things just like we can, the music wasn’t a fluke. 

In the span of a second your worldview dips, swirls, and the splash of water hits your ears at the exact same moment the shock of cold does. The water is kept at approximately the same temperature as the water he was captured in, frigid Atlantic delights. As bubbles envelop you, you manage to get yourself turned right side up, carefully circling your arms to tred water and remain mostly stationary. This would be the key moment, you have to exercise extreme caution. 

You’re another predator that has invaded the territory of a fellow predator. In the natural world, it’s a killable offense. But you keep your eyes open, sweeping the dimly lit, wide expanse of saltwater around you. No sign of him, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t here, watching you, gauging the situation. As you continue to keep your breathing even, your movements slow enough but steady enough to keep your body afloat, you catch sight of something in your peripheral. That intimately familiar midnight blue tail. He was moving behind you now, one webbed, clawed hand slicing through the water like knives as the rest of him came into your view. That sandy, dishwater blonde hair floating in fine tendrils around his face, framing piercing blue eyes that took you in critically, curiously. 

You allow him to keep circling you, doing your best to calm your nervous system that felt on high alert, panic just on the cusp of overriding your sensibilities. Allowing that would spell disaster, you would certanly be killed if you started thrashing or spinning wildly, it would scare him, you could both be injured in any kind of violent altercation. They would kill him if he killed you. 

But your worries abate as he slows to a stop in front of you, and despite your eyes staying locked together you’re conscious of the audience you have on the other side of the glass. The feeling of being watched by many people is something quite unique, it’s also unnerving. You wish you could apologize to him, you hadn’t realized before how uncomfortable literally living beneath a microscope was. 

You raise your arm, hand extended, in a painfully slow movement that makes the muscles in your forearm ache. His attention goes to the appendage now how hanging between you two, eyeing it with equal parts suspicion and what seems to be excitement. The physical equivalent of a high pitched alarm happens in your body as he moves closer to you, the air suddenly locked in your lungs as you wait. This was another critical moment. Would he grasp your hand? Rip it off? It was entirely unknown, beyond dangerous. 

But none of those things happen. The painting, god touching adam, comes to mind as he raises a clawed index finger delicately up to yours. They don’t touch but rather hover in proximity to one another before a grin works its way across his face, those sharp incisors catching against his bottom lip as his eyes flick back to your goggled face. 

You hope he can see that you’re smiling too, but you hope its not like it is with monkeys where grins are signs of aggression. But it seems that fear is unwarranted as his tail twitches erratically, the wispy bits of filigree flesh on the split end swirling through the water in a gorgeous display of deep blue and white. Like sheer fabric winding through the air. 

The ecstasy that floods your brain is a feeling like no other, a full body sensation that spreads from the tips of your fingers to your fabric covered toes. His tail moves to brush against your kicking legs, the heft of it is shocking. You can immediately imagine the sheer power of it kocking into you, it would feel like being hit by a freight train no doubt. For something that looked so elegant and otherworldly, it was still a threat. 

But you couldn’t get distracted you needed some display of his intelligence, and you needed it now. 

So you shake off the awe, do your best to refocus on his face. Carefully you draw back your hand, pointing to yourself and then at him. You repeat the gesture several times, hoping to receive a reaction that displays understanding. 

And he doesn’t keep you waiting long. 

In a flash one clawed, webbed hand encircles your wrist and halts your movement. 

It’s like time suspends, a complete and total pause as you feel a different kind of chill within the suit. It’s like you’re watching in third person, your throat seizing as your fingers intertwine hesitantly. It’s an oddly tender gesture, and then your body is tugged through the weight of the water, pushed against the solidness of his chest. Your arms came gingerly around him, and his enveloped you in turn. He was all firmness, so solidly built it shocked you. You hadn’t properly appreciated the sheer mass of him, the way his body had been crafted for underwater pursuit, hunting. But also to accommodate displays of affection, just like your own. 

And as you two embrace you can’t help but smile again. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to form one hell of an argument on his behalf and you would shout until your face was blue that going forward, communication would take priority. Worrying about the innerworkings of his physiology could wait until later.

[triangle-dog]

TW pet death

(Not one of mine, don't worry. You won't miss anything if you skip this post.)

I will always and forever be a collar and tags person (or, look, if you are really concerned about strangulation then a harness & tags person or a breakaway collar or whatever). Microchips are great, all my beasts are microchiped, but if one of them gets out I want to be able to find them and bring them home no matter what has happened to them.

Two years ago, almost exactly I think, friends and I were three miles into a beautiful autumn hike with the dogs. The leaves were turning, the wildlife was active, and there was a crisp breeze. We rounded a corner and immediately saw a body floating out on the lake, a dog, its long black fur drifting back and forth in the small waves. After some deliberation on what to do, and if it was safe, I waded out to the dog while the others in the party held our dogs way back from the lake in case the water was bad. He wasn't that far out really, but it felt like it took forever to get there because I was fervently hoping he'd have tags. I could actually feel the relief wash over me when I got there and saw patches of blue collar peeking out between the drifting fur.

I towed him into the shallows by the collar. I'm the most familiar with bodies, which is why I was the one who went out to him, and I know that they age differently in the water but by my judgment he'd died farily recently - less than a day ago. When he's in close enough to shore that I don't think he'll drift away any time soon, I unclip his collar and return to the group. We sit down and strategize for a few minutes. How do you make a call like that without raising their hopes? (Answer: you can't - just the phone ringing will be enough).

"I'm very sorry," I say, "but I found a dog in the lake and I thought you would want to know." She tells me she was half expecting a call like this, that the gate didn't latch correctly and both dogs got out but only one came home. She tells me that they were so worried he wouldn't be able to find his way home in the storm last night. She tells me he was very old, that his mind had been going for awhile now. She tells me that most of his life, until the last few years as his body became less able to manage the walk, they would come down to a beach near here and that he loved to swim. She tells me she hopes he at least got to relive those memories for a bit before he went.

I give her the coordinates, it's not too far from a road if you bushwhack - certainly less than the 3mi we did, and tell her we'll bring him to shore. I pick him up out of the shallows, he feels frail, yet he's so so heavy from the weight of the water in his fur. He's much smaller than Nova, yet lifting Nova has never felt like that. I lay him gently on the rocky beach in what I hope is a natural looking, less-traumatizing-to-the-kids position. I clip his collar back on, with the fur no longer drifting around in the water obscuring it, you can now see the little tag saying "Poochie" on the front. We head back the way we came. That was walk enough for all of us, it would feel wrong to seek a different ending, and it was an out and back trail anyway.

Ever since then, every dead cat or dog I see reminds me of those lakeside discussions. We are all overly dedicated animal people, we're fully aware of microchips and all of our own pets are microchiped, but carrying a waterlogged body 3mi to the car to drive it to the vet's office was just not feasible - I don't think it would occur to most people that that was even an option. Even if they did think of it, most people would be opposed to putting a dead animal in their vehicle. I'm just gonna make it easy on people and put my phone number on my animals.

(Sorry, that post was so much longer than it needed to be, but my brain must have recorded that experience in a different kind of memory than usual because it is so so clear and comes all as a set like that so that's what you got too)

TLDR: OP found a dead dog once and has big feelings about it. Put collars/etc. on your pets

[kckt88]

A Heartbeat Between Us IV

Summary:

Y.N joins game night and Alicent discovers that she's going to have a grandchild, but not everyone is happy.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Swearing, Mild Violence, Fluff, Jealousy, Miscommunication, Smut, Oral Sex, Fingering, P in V, Allusions to other Sexual Encounters, Childhood Memories.

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 5835

A.N - I used Zac Gabriel as the face claim for Daeron.

A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood @miaajaade

Aemond glanced between Aegon and Daeron, his brow furrowing slightly. “Could we do this another night?” he asked, trying to avoid any disruption to his plans with Y.N.

Plans which consisted of them snuggling up on the sofa and watching a film whilst enjoying a takeout and then him taking her to bed and devouring her sweet cunt until she screamed his name, only then would he fuck her nice and slow, making her come around his cock.

Before his brothers could respond, Y.N. spoke up. “No, it’s fine. You don’t have to change your plans because of me. I can go-” she said with a small smile.

Aemond cut her off quickly. “-No, you’re staying.”

Aegon, ever the cheerful instigator, immediately chimed in. “Hey, why doesn’t she join us? Could be fun.”

Y.N. hesitated. “If that’s okay with you guys-”

Daeron grinned. “The more, the merrier! Obviously, no drinking for you, though,” he teased, pointing to her belly with a wink.

Y.N. laughed and followed them to the table, where Aegon immediately started dealing the cards.

“Come on, Aemond, crack open the beers. I’m dying of thirst over here,” Aegon grumbled dramatically.

Rolling his eye, Aemond grabbed three beers, popping them open before passing them to his brothers.

He then handed Y.N. a carton of Capri Sun, and she cheered, “You remembered!”

Aemond blushed slightly. “I got a couple stashed in the fridge just in case after you said you were craving them. Oh, and a jar of pickles too.”

Aegon and Daeron immediately started laughing.

“Awww, aren’t you sweet,” Daeron teased.

“Shut up,” Aemond muttered, his cheeks still tinged with pink.

Aegon smirked, turning to Y.N. “You know how to play poker, right?”

“Of course,” she said confidently. “My grandfather taught me.”

They each settled in with their cards, the atmosphere light and playful.

After a few moments, Aegon glanced at Aemond with a mischievous grin. “So, when are you going to tell mother she’s going to have a grandchild?”

Aemond leaned back slightly in his chair, glancing at Y.N. “I was planning to tell her this weekend-if Y.N.’s okay with that.”

Y.N. nodded. “Yeah, it’s about time she knew she’s going to be a grandmother.”

Aemond looked relieved. “I’d like you to come with me when I tell her,” he added. “I know she’s met you before, but I think it would be better if you were with me.”

Before Y.N. could respond, Daeron muttered under his breath, “Just make sure Grandsire isn’t there.”

Aemond shot him a sharp look. “What did you say that for, you bloody moron?”

Y.N. raised a curious eyebrow. “Why?” she asked, sensing there was more to the story.

Aemond sighed, running a hand through his hair. “My grandsire isn’t exactly thrilled that my relationship with Alys is over. He’s worried it’ll mess up some business deals we have with Larys.”

“I thought Otto didn’t work for Targaryen Inc. anymore?” Y.N. asked, confused.

“He doesn’t. He was fired after Rhaenyra took over from our father,” Aemond explained. “But he thinks he can still run the company through me since I’m a partner.”

Y.N. snorted. “Sounds like someone has issues letting go.”

Aegon snickered. “Never a truer word spoken.”

“It’s a pain in the arse” muttered Aemond.

“Alright, alright, enough boring talk,” Aegon interrupted, clapping his hands. “What’s really important is what we’re having for dinner. I’m starving.”

Y.N. chuckled. “We were just about to order before you guys showed up.” She stood up with her cards still in hand, making sure no one peeked. “Aegon, what are you in the mood for?”

With a cheeky grin, Aegon replied, “Whatever you’re offering, darling.”

Aemond scowled, but Aegon ignored him and sauntered over to Y.N., leaning over to look at the menus with her.

As they scanned their options, Aemond’s eye never left them, watching his brother like a hawk.

Daeron noticed and nudged Aemond. “Chill out, bro. He’s just standing there.”

Aemond huffed. “Too close for my liking.”

“She’s pregnant with your baby. She’s not interested in Aegon,” Daeron reassured him, rolling his eyes.

Aemond hummed in agreement but still took a sip of his beer, his eye fixed on them until Y.N. and Aegon returned with a decision.

“Chinese,” Y.N. announced with a smile.

Daeron groaned. “We had Chinese last time we were here!”

Aegon shot back, “Yeah, but we didn’t get to finish it because Aemond kicked us out when Alys came over.”

Daeron sighed, rubbing his temples. “Alright, let’s just order. I’m starving too.”

Y.N. decided to write down everyone’s orders to keep it simple, and after about fifteen minutes, the Chinese food was successfully ordered.

Whilst they waited for the food they resumed their game and soon, Y.N. was laying her cards down on the table. “Royal flush.”

Aegon slammed his cards down in disbelief. “How the hell—?!”

Daeron burst out laughing, applauding her. “Impressive.”

Aemond grinned, proud and impressed. Aegon, not willing to admit defeat, demanded a rematch. “Another game! I’m not losing like that.”

Y.N. accepted the challenge, and as Daeron began dealing the cards, she stood up to get another drink.

On her way back, she leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Aemond’s lips. He blushed, his brothers noticing and immediately nudging each other with smirks.

Aegon chuckled under his breath. “You two are sickeningly cute.”

Daeron snickered. “Yeah, keep it up, and we might just need to get a bucket.”

The night was filled with laughter and light-hearted teasing, though it seemed Aegon was having the hardest time accepting defeat.

After losing yet another round of poker to Y.N., he threw his cards down dramatically, declaring, “You’re cheating! There’s no way you’re this good.”

Aemond rolled his eye, smirking. “Just because you’re terrible at poker doesn’t mean Y.N.’s cheating. If it wasn’t her, you’d be losing to me, and you know it.”

Aegon stuck his tongue out. “You lost to her too, you tool.”

“So what? At least I’m not throwing a tantrum over it.” Aemond’s tone was calm, but the grin on his face was clear provocation.

The Chinese food they had ordered arrived just in time to distract from the bickering, and it was quickly devoured. Aegon, true to form, kept trying to steal food off Y.N.’s plate.

“Try it again, and I’ll stab you with my fork,” Y.N. warned, her voice playful but with a hint of seriousness. “I don’t share food.”

Aegon pouted. “But I want one of your prawn toasts.”

“If you wanted prawn toast, you should’ve ordered your own,” Y.N. retorted, grinning at him as she guarded her plate.

Aegon huffed. “But you shared your onion bhajis with Aemond, and he didn’t order any!”

Y.N. raised an eyebrow, her hand resting protectively over her food. “He’s the father of my child. Special privileges.”

Aegon rolled his eyes dramatically but relented, going back to his own food with a pout, much to everyone’s amusement.

After dinner, Y.N. decided to sit out the last round of poker, even though Aemond protested. “Leave the dishes. You don’t have to do that.”

But Y.N. insisted, washing up the dishes and tossing the takeout cartons, while the others finished their game. By the time she was done, Aemond had emerged victorious, as expected, while Aegon sulked.

“You two are definitely in on this together,” Aegon grumbled. “I’m sure you’re plotting against me, conspiring with one another-”

Daeron shook his head, laughing. “It’s a game of poker Aegon, not Game of Thrones”

As the night drew to a close, Aemond glanced at the time. “It’s getting late. You two should head out.”

Aegon, never one to miss an opportunity for innuendo, smirked. “Oh, got something else planned, do we?”

Before Aemond could respond, Y.N. cut in with a teasing grin. “Yes, actually, we do. And no, Aegon, you can’t watch.”

Daeron burst into laughter while Aegon held his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But we should do this again soon. Next time, we should invite Helaena.”

Y.N. smiled, nodding in agreement. “That sounds fun. I’d love that.”

After bidding Aegon and Daeron goodnight, much to Aemond’s annoyance, Aegon insisted on giving Y.N. a hug before leaving.

She humoured him, but as soon as the door clicked shut, Aemond’s patience snapped, and he was pulling her into a passionate kiss.

“You drive me crazy,” Aemond murmured against her lips, his voice low and husky.

“Good,” Y.N. whispered back, a smile curving on her lips as she pressed forward and claimed his lips in another kiss.

Aemond couldn’t help the small groan that escaped his lips as Y.N’s tongue slid against his.

Aemond slowly moved his hands down Y.N’s body before roughly grasping her ass and hauling her up against the door.

Y.N whimpered, gripping at Aemond’s shoulders as he slotted himself between her legs, his tongue still invading her mouth.

Aemond presses himself against the apex of Y.N’s thighs, and he growls like an animal when she reaches down and palms his hard cock over his jeans.

“Fuck-“ groans Aemond as he begins grinding his clothed cock against her.

“Someone’s eager” whispered Y.N as she flicked her tongue against the corner of Aemond’s mouth.

“Oh, you have no idea” quipped Aemond as she spun her off the door and carried her to his bed.

Soon their clothes are abandoned in a haphazard heap on the floor and Aemond was laid between Y.N open legs moving his fingers through her dripping folds as he expertly devoured her with his mouth, his nose bumping against her pearl as fucked her with his tongue.

Gods, she tastes incredible.

Aemond loved performing oral sex on Y.N she was delicious in a way he’d never tasted before.

“Fuck,” squeaks Y.N as she grasps at the back of Aemond’s head, her fingers digging into his hair, holding him in place.

“You’re quite sensitive. Are you going to come already?” asked Aemond smugly.

Aemond alternates between using his fingers and tongue to bring Y.N to her peak.

Y.N arches her back as she comes, Aemond gently sucks on her pearl as she rides out the euphoria of her peak.

“Is that you done baby, or do you want more?” asked Aemond playfully, his chin shining with her slick.

“M-More, please” gasps Y.N as Aemond reaches forward and presses a singular kiss to her pearl before he quickly wipes his chin with his hand.

Aemond smirks as he removes his boxers, his hard cock slapping up against his abdomen, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

Aemond takes himself in hand and guides his hard cock to Y.N entrance, pushing in slowly and pausing to give himself a moment.

Gods she was so wet and tight.

After pressing a gentle kiss to Y.N’s lips, Aemond pulls out slowly and slides back in, his pace gentle and steady.

“Oh-please Aemond-Harder-” whimpered Y.N.

Aemond lets out a pleased grunt and thrusts into Y.N harder, smiling as she lets out a yelp of surprise.

Soon he was moving inside her with a series of sharp hard thrusts, as much as he wanted to fuck her into the mattress, he didn’t want to harm the baby.

Y.N moaned desperately, as she moved her hips to meet his, attempting to allow his cock to reach deeper within her.

Aemond gets the hint, and quickly lifts Y.N’s legs over his shoulders, using the new angle to drive his cock a little deeper than before.

“Tell me how it feels-tell me how my cock feels” demands Aemond.

“It’s good, so good-yes-yes, right there”

Y.N praises sets something off inside Aemond as he continues to thrust into her, the headboard banging against the wall.

“Aemond, please, I’m close” whimpers Y.N.

Aemond moves a hand down to where the two of them are joined, and rubs Y.N’s pearl in quick circles, dragging her closer the edge of the precipice.

“I never want to leave this sweet pussy–fuck,” groans Aemond as he marks each of his words in tandem with a snap of his hips.

Y.N come with a loud, scream, her body shaking underneath Aemond’s as his thrusts grow sloppy.

“J-Just a little longer-fuck” groans Aemond as he thrusts into Y.N three more times before reaching his own peak, spilling rope after rope of seed inside her.

After a few moments, Aemond gently moves Y.N’s legs from his shoulders, his chest heaving with every breath he takes.

“I-I wasn’t too rough, was I?” asked Aemond.

“No. I-It was wonderful” exclaimed Y.N, her body shaking slightly.

Aemond smirks as he slowly removes his softened cock from her slick cunt, his singular eye fixated on the drops of seed that spill out.

He takes a finger to Y.N’s opening and pushes his seed back inside, delighting in her moan of surprise. He leans over to press a gentle kiss to her lips, before bringing his finger to his own mouth and sucking it clean.

Aemond laid down on the bed and pulled Y.N to him.

“Not tired, are you?” asked Aemond curiously as Y.N laid her head on his chest and began running her fingers through the sparse hair that graced his chest.

Y.N looked at him and smiled as she shook her head.

“Good, because I plan to fuck you so many times tonight that you cannot walk tomorrow”.

 “Promises, promises” replied Y.N.

Y.N stood in front of her wardrobe; frustration etched on her face as she rummaged through the sea of clothes. Every outfit she tried on felt wrong, and with every rejected option, her anxiety about seeing Alicent only grew.

Aemond, sitting calmly on the edge of her bed, watched with quiet amusement, his eye following her frantic movements.

"You look beautiful in anything," he said, his voice soft, trying to ease her stress.

Y.N shot him a look of disbelief, tugging at the hem of a dress she had just discarded. “Of course you’d say that”.

With a playful roll of his eye, Aemond slid off the bed and approached her wardrobe. “Fine, I’ll help,” he muttered, thumbing through the hangers thoughtfully.

After a moment, he pulled out a blue chiffon lace midi dress, holding it up for her approval. “Here. Try this.”

Y.N eyed it for a moment before slipping it on. She checked herself in the mirror, smoothing the fabric over her figure.

After a few moments of contemplation, she nodded, satisfied. “You’ve got good taste,” she admitted, finishing her hair and makeup before stepping into a pair of heels.

She turned to him. “What do you think?”

Aemond’s gaze softened as he looked at her, admiration clear in his eye. “You look beautiful,” he said sincerely, stepping closer to press a gentle kiss to her lips.

With that, they headed out, climbing into his car for the thirty-minute drive to his mother’s.

The entire ride, Y.N’s nerves churned. She had been to the manor many times and had met Alicent before, but this time felt different.

She squeezed Aemond’s hand, seeking comfort, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze in return, sensing her unease.

When they arrived at the grand Targaryen manor, Y.N took a deep breath before stepping out of the car. Hand in hand, they entered the house, greeted by Alicent’s warm smile.

Aemond’s mood darkened slightly as he spotted his grandsire, Otto Hightower, seated in the drawing room.

“Y.N, would you like a drink?” Alicent offered kindly, and Y.N gratefully accepted a glass of orange juice. Aemond declined any alcohol, as he was driving.

As they sat down at the table, the air was initially filled with polite conversation. Otto, however, quickly turned to Aemond with a thin smile. “So, how are things at Targaryen Inc.? Any updates?”

Aemond’s jaw tightened slightly. “I’d prefer not to discuss work right now,” he said coolly, making it clear he wasn’t in the mood for business talk.

Alicent, sensing the tension, turned her attention to Y.N. “It’s been a while since I last saw you. How have you been? What have you been working on lately?”

Y.N relaxed slightly, smiling as she answered. “I’ve been busy finishing a piece for the local museum. I’m almost done with it.”

Before she could elaborate, Otto cut in. “And what is it you do again?” His tone was laced with thinly veiled condescension.

Y.N remained composed. “I’m a restoration artist. I work primarily at Howlett’s Bookstore, but I do commissions for other places as well.”

“A bookstore?” Otto sneered.

“Yes,” Y.N replied evenly. “I restore old books.”

Otto looked unimpressed, but before he could say more, Alicent interjected with a curious smile. “That sounds fascinating. Restoring old books must be quite the delicate process.”

“It is,” Y.N agreed, relaxing a bit more. “It can be time-consuming, depending on the book's condition, but it’s incredibly rewarding when I see the final result.”

Aemond leaned in, his voice filled with pride. “She’s incredibly talented. I’ve seen photos of her work—she can bring even the most damaged pieces back to life.”

Alicent’s smile widened. “Do you restore jewellery as well?”

“I do,” Y.N nodded.

Alicent stood from the table, disappearing briefly before returning with a small box. “This brooch belonged to my mother, Alyrie. It was passed down to her by her grandmother, but over the years, it’s become discoloured.” She opened the box to reveal the intricate brooch. “I was wondering if you could restore it.”

Y.N took the box gently, studying the brooch. “I can restore it, no problem.”

Alicent looked relieved. “Thank you. I’ll pay you, of course.”

Y.N shook her head with a smile. “No need, I’m happy to do it.”

At that moment, Y.N nudged Aemond gently in the ribs, urging him.

Aemond cleared his throat, glancing between his mother and Y.N before blurting out, “Y.N is pregnant.”

Alicent blinked, clearly surprised but processing the news quickly. “Are you two getting married?” she asked, her gaze shifting between them.

“No,” Aemond replied, “but we’re committed to raising the baby together.”

Otto, however, looked scandalized. “It’s unacceptable,” he snapped. “A child born out of wedlock—this is disgraceful.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched, his patience thinning. “This isn’t the dark ages, grandsire. My child will still have the Targaryen name.”

“It won’t be a true Targaryen,” Otto shot back coldly.

Aemond’s anger flared. “Why not? The baby will have my blood and my name. A piece of paper won’t change that.”

“How could you have been so careless?” Otto demanded, his eyes narrowing. “Or did she get pregnant on purpose?” His gaze flicked dismissively to Y.N., who gasped in shock.

Aemond stood abruptly, furious. “Y.N. is no gold digger. We spent the night together, and we didn’t use precautions. It’s as simple as that.”

The argument escalated, Otto criticizing Aemond for ending his relationship with Alys, claiming it would jeopardize business ties with Larys Strong. The tension in the room mounted until Alicent finally intervened.

“While I’m not thrilled about the two of you not getting married,” Alicent said calmly, “I’m happy to welcome my first grandchild.”

Otto, still fuming, spat, “It’s unacceptable.”

Aemond glared at his grandsire. “It’s not your life. It’s mine. And my mother’s approval is the only one I care about.”

Turning to Alicent, Aemond softened. “I’m sorry, Mother, but we won’t be staying for dinner.”

He took Y.N.’s hand, and led her out of the manor, his anger still simmering as they left Otto behind.

As they left the Targaryen manor, Y.N. felt a heavy silence settle between her and Aemond. The argument with Otto had rattled her more than she wanted to admit.

The tension, the judgment—it all weighed heavily on her. She stared out the window of the car, her mind racing.

"Aemond-" she began quietly, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, unsure. "Can you just take me home?"

Aemond glanced at her, concern evident in his expression. "Y.N., are you alright?" He reached for her hand, but she gently pulled away.

"I just-I need to be alone," she said, her voice faltering. "Please."

Aemond hesitated, the hurt flashing briefly in his eye, but he respected her request. He nodded silently and drove toward her flat, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he fought the urge to push her for more.

He could feel the emotional distance growing between them, and it made him uneasy.

When they arrived, Y.N. unclipped her seatbelt hastily. She paused for a moment, her hand resting on the door handle as if she wanted to say something, but the words never came.

Instead, she glanced at him with an apologetic expression. "Thank you for taking me home."

Before Aemond could reply, she slipped out of the car and hurried toward her building. Aemond watched her rush inside, his heart sinking as she disappeared from view.

Aemond had spent the past week in a fog of frustration and anxiety, the silence from Y.N. gnawing at him like a wound that refused to heal.

His texts to her had gone unanswered, and every day without a reply made him question if he'd somehow lost her.

He considered going to her flat multiple times but ultimately decided against it, fearing that showing up unannounced might only push her further away.

Even his usual game night with Aegon and Daeron provided no relief—without Y.N. there and Helaena refusing to join, the nights were hollow.

His foul mood grew so unbearable that Aegon and Daeron eventually kicked him out of their flat, tired of his snapping and sourness.

The breaking point came when Aemond, still seething with anger at his grandsire, drove to his mother’s house to confront Otto.

The confrontation erupted into another fierce argument, with accusations flying until Aemond, overwhelmed with fury, punched a wall, splitting his knuckles open.

He hadn’t even felt the pain, only the burning rage that filled him. His mother, had gently cleaned and bandaged his hand afterwards, her touch soothing but her words even more so.

“I’m sorry for losing my temper,” Aemond muttered, his voice low and ashamed.

Alicent had looked at him with that patient, understanding gaze. “I understand. What your grandsire said was unacceptable”

“I-I just don’t know what to do mother” whispered Aemond.

“You need to tell Y.N how you feel."

Aemond shook his head, his voice raw with uncertainty. “I’m in love with her, mother. But I’m terrified. What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

Alicent had smiled softly. “-I remember when Y.N first came here, Helaena had asked if she could bring a friend home from school-it wasn’t too long after you’d lost your eye, and you were worried what people would say about your scar-”

Aemond shuddered at the memory of being so scared and insecure, consistently hiding in his room, not wanting anyone to look at him.

“-It was Y.N who managed to get you out of your room” said Alicent softly.

Aemond remembered that day very well, he’d caught sight of Y.N in the gardens with Helaena.

The sound of her laughter and the mesmerized look on her face as a butterfly landed on her outstretched hand.

His sister had never brought a friend home before as everyone thought she was odd, and despite his insecurity, he found himself wanting to go outside.

He kept the left side of his face hidden as best he could, when Helaena introduced him to Y.N, but a sudden gust of wind had blown the hood from his head and exposed his scar to Y.N.

Aemond had rushed to cover his face, feeling absolutely mortified, but Y.N stopped him, she gently took his hand and told him not to hide, that his scar showed that he was brave.

“I was so grateful to her-” said Alicent smiling.

Aemond smiled back, of course Y.N became a regular visitor, having sleep overs with Helaena, and befriending Aegon and Daeron.

But his insecurity still loomed over him like a shadow and as he got older, he convinced himself that despite her gentle nature Y.N would never reciprocate his feelings and instead he pushed her away.

He was mean and unkind to her, but he rationalized his treatment of her due to the fact that she was so damn annoying, especially in their classes, hand in the air always eager to answer.

He simultaneously loved and hated that smug look she would get on her face when she bested him.

“-I always noticed that whenever she was here, your gaze would linger on her as if she was the only one in the room-” whispered Alicent.

“I was so horrible to her though-“ muttered Aemond.

“-Yes, you were, and I cursed your stupidity many times, for I could see how hopelessly in love with her you were-”

Aemond had leaned into his mother, placing his head on her shoulder, in a show of vulnerability.

“If anyone was going to have your child, I’m glad it’s Y.N but you should tell her how you feel, who knows, she could feel the same way-”

"I hope so," Aemond had whispered back.

Days later, as he worked out in his penthouse, trying to clear his mind, his phone buzzed with a message from Y.N. His heart leaped in his chest.

It was brief but enough to send his pulse racing: I’ve finished restoring your mother’s brooch. I’ll bring it by later.

Aemond had never showered so quickly in his life. He rushed to tidy the penthouse, making sure everything looked perfect before the knock on the door came.

When he opened it, there she was—standing there as beautiful as ever. His heart skipped a beat at the sight of her.

“Come in,” he said, his voice betraying how desperately he’d missed her.

Y.N. stepped inside, and there was an awkward tension between them, a mix of uncertainty and emotions that had built up over the week. She opened her bag and pulled out a small box, handing it to him.

“I hope she likes it,” she said quietly.

Aemond opened the box carefully, and his breath hitched. The brooch, once dull and discoloured, was now vibrant and radiant, as if it had just been made.

It was stunning. His mother would love it.

“This is incredible,” he whispered, placing the box down. “Thank you. My mother will be overjoyed.”

Y.N. nodded, her eyes flickering with emotion. Aemond noticed her hesitation and stepped closer, his worry mounting.

“I texted you,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice steady. “I was worried. I didn’t want to show up unannounced and make things worse, but—”

“I’m sorry,” Y.N. interrupted, her voice trembling. “I just needed time to think.”

Aemond felt a pang of dread settle in his chest. His mind raced, preparing for the worst. Was she about to break things off?

Which in hindsight was odd as they weren’t officially dating. His heart pounded as he watched her eyes well with tears, bracing himself for the words he was terrified of hearing.

“W-What happened with your grandsire really upset me-,” she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. “-b-but it was wrong of me to shut you out, it wasn’t your fault a-and I’ve really missed you this week-”

Aemond moved forward and pulled her in his arms, kissing her with a passion that made the world around them disappear.

“I missed you too” he breathed against her lips, kissing her again, happy to have her in his arms once more.

“What happened to your hand?”

“Oh-I had an argument with my grandsire and lost my temper” replied Aemond.

“Did you hit him?”

“No-I took my frustration out on a wall” said Aemond his breath hitching as Y.N took his bandaged hand and placed a kiss on the knuckles.

“M-My grandfather used to call it a healing kiss,” said Y.N  softly.

Their gazes locked and Aemond could feel his stomach churning, as Y.N leaned closer to him and kissed him, her hands sliding into his long hair.

“Can I?”

Aemond nodded and sighed as he felt her slowly unclasp his eyepatch, her thumb caressing his scarred cheek.

“Y.N-” muttered Aemond.

“You’ve always been beautiful” breathed Y.N as her lips met his.

The next morning, as they laid in bed together, Aemond gently ran his hand over her stomach, smiling at the slight swell he could feel.

The thought of their baby growing there filled him with a sense of awe and excitement. They had another appointment with the midwives soon, and he was already counting down the days.

He wondered when they could start going baby shopping, His spare room had already been cleared out, a blank canvas ready to be transformed into a nursery for their little one.

He imagined what it might look like—crib, toys, soft colours—his heart warming at the thought.

His phone buzzed on the bedside table, and a quick glance told him he was late for work. But he didn’t care. He wasn’t leaving the warmth of this bed, not today.

A rare day off was in order; he wanted to savour every moment with Y.N., who was still fast asleep beside him.

As he lay there, his thoughts wandered. When was the right time to tell her that he was in love with her? And more importantly did she feel the same?

Aemond knew that, for him, the feelings had always been there, lurking beneath the surface. Y.N. had gotten under his skin in a way no one ever had.

With a small smile, he closed his eye again, intending to sleep a little longer, but when he woke up later, the bed beside him was empty.

His heart skipped a beat, and he called her name. No answer. Getting out of bed, he pulled on a pair of boxers and sighed in relief when he found her in the kitchen, pacing as she talked on the phone.

She was wearing one of his shirts, and the sight of her in it drove him mad in the best way possible.

The top buttons were undone, offering a teasing glimpse of her breasts, and the hem barely grazed her bum, leaving him aching with desire.

How was it possible to want someone this much?

His thoughts were interrupted when she giggled, and he caught her saying Aegon’s name.

Aemond frowned, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorway, waiting for her to finish.

Why was she talking to his brother? After a few more moments, Y.N. hung up the phone, turning around to see Aemond glaring at her.

“Why were you on the phone with my brother?” Aemond demanded, the irritation clear in his voice.

Y.N. raised an eyebrow, her expression amused. “Because he’s also my friend.”

“Do you talk to him often?” Aemond’s question was laced with suspicion.

Y.N. shrugged casually. “We usually text every so often. He called because he was going to McDonald's and offered to bring me one at work, but I told him I was here with you-”

Aemond huffed in annoyance, his lips pressing into a pout. Y.N. grinned at him.

“You’re cute when you pout,” she teased.

“I do not pout,” Aemond muttered, his scowl deepening.

Y.N. laughed, stepping closer and rising onto her toes to press a kiss to his nose. “Yes, you do. You’re doing it now.”

He tried to maintain his scowl, but her teasing was infectious.

As Y.N. brushed past him on her way to the bathroom, she glanced over her shoulder with a playful smile, as she began to unbutton the shirt she wore.

“I’m off to take a shower. Care to join me?” said Y.N as she removed the shirt and threw it at him.

At the sight of her naked body, Aemond’s sour mood vanished in an instant, a smirk spreading across his face.

“Oh, hell yes-” exclaimed Aemond as he followed her eagerly, his thoughts now consumed by the love and desire that only she could ignite in him.

And gods be good, fucking Y.N in the shower as the hot water cascaded over them, was incredible, and most definitely the perfect way to start the day.

Y.N. lay back on the midwife’s table, her heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and nerves. Aemond sat beside her, his hand resting protectively over hers as the midwife pressed the doppler against her small but growing bump.

A few seconds passed in silence before the sound of the baby’s heartbeat filled the room, a rapid and steady rhythm that echoed like the most beautiful music. Y.N. smiled softly, her eyes misting with emotion as she turned to look at Aemond.

"I can't believe that’s our baby," Aemond whispered, his excitement barely contained.

The midwife smiled as she moved on to measure Y.N.’s bump, jotting down notes as she continued the checkup. She tested Y.N.'s urine, reassuring them both that everything was progressing beautifully.

“The baby’s growing nicely, but your iron levels are a bit low,” the midwife added. “Try to eat more iron-rich foods, and at your next appointment, we’ll test your blood again. If your levels are still low, we’ll prescribe some iron tablets.”

Y.N. nodded, making a mental note as they booked their next appointment for the 20-week scan.

As they were leaving, they began discussing whether they should find out the gender of the baby.

"I don’t really want to know," Y.N. admitted, glancing at Aemond. "As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all that matters to me."

Aemond, however, seemed to have a different opinion. “I’d like to know,” he said thoughtfully. “I want to make a start on the nursery, get everything ready.”

Y.N. came to an abrupt stop in the hallway, her eyes widening as his words sank in. “Wait-what did you just say?” she asked.

Aemond blinked, momentarily unsure if he’d said something wrong. “I, uh, cleaned out one of my spare rooms-I was thinking of turning it into a nursery.”

For a moment, Y.N. just stared at him, and Aemond’s heart skipped a beat, wondering if he’d overstepped. But then, a wide smile broke across her face, and she reached up to kiss him softly.

“I love that,” she whispered against his lips.

“I just want everything to be perfect for our baby,” Aemond said, his relief evident in his voice.

Y.N. pulled back, her eyes gleaming with an idea. “What if-you find out the gender, and you do the nursery? Then, when it’s finished, you can surprise me with a sort of gender reveal.”

Aemond’s face lit up at the suggestion, a boyish excitement taking over. “That’s brilliant. I love it. Thank you for trusting me with that.”

Y.N. smiled, resting her hand on her stomach. “It’s your baby, too.”

With a renewed sense of joy, Aemond suggested, “Let’s go shopping. We can make a list of everything we need for the nursery.”

Y.N. nodded, her heart swelling with love and excitement. Together, they walked out of the clinic, ready to embrace this next chapter in their journey.

TBC

[bicheetopuff]

Grill I have a sudden thought. Epiphany if you will.. Call it curiosity even!

Kirishima is kind of a parallel torwards Izuku in some way when being friends with Kats (just more, confident and less bullying and Kiri being a rock)

But what about Iida?

like, For some reason- Iida does seen Izuku as a rival and kind of want to prove himself that he can be more with or without izu-

I am- I'm not sure how to word this. I am not good with words, but I think what I want to say that Izu and Kats kind of have a type when befriending others

Iida & Katsuki (Similarity)

Loud

Studios

Prideful

Not chill

Goal minded (I'm stupid maybe)

Rule binding (Kats is just very chaotic in responding to rules)

Both probably sleeps at 8 PM

I'm not sure anymore I think you can list it better than I do-

Help this is not even remotely a coherent thought, so please just ignore it if it doesn't make sense

Have Izu for your troubles!💞

bkdk is the only ship I ship, just- thoughts

Don’t worry, bkdk is constantly on my mind too, I get it.

I actually really love the way Izuku and Iida’s relationship parallels Katsuki and Kirishima’s and it makes me kinda sad that people stopped talking about them.

I wouldn’t say that they parallel in dynamic very much, but they parallel in a sense that Katsuki and Izuku are so obviously jealous of each others friends. Well… not jealous, but there’s definitely a feeling of, “I’m glad he found a friend who treats him the way he deserves to be treated, because I am in no place to be the one to give him that no matter how much I want to,” kind of mutual insecurity. And it’s made so blatantly obvious (even being confirmed in an interview) that I genuinely wonder what Horikoshi was thinking when he decided to do it. Like, what were his intentions with that? Outside of obvious yearning?

Like, I feel like Iida and Kirishima is who bkdk wishes the other could see them as. Kirishima has that same overly positive spirit and self sacrificial heroic attitude that Izuku has that Katsuki hates so much. The difference is, Izuku’s self sacrificial attitude isn’t healthy while Kirishima’s is, because Kirishima’s quirk is literally a shield which makes it nearly impossible for him to inflict injuries onto himself deliberately like Izuku does. Kirishima is Izuku without the fatal flaws that worries Katsuki so much. Now with Iida, he’s an organized goody two shoes with a tendency to let his emotions spill over in a scary/somewhat violent way, just like Katsuki. However, Iida is also missing Katsuki’s fatal flaws. Iida is stubborn but he’s able to let people into his life and he doesn’t have an explosive temper, nor does he have an extremely inflated ego. He has a similar social pressure that Katsuki had growing up with his family and other adults in his life pre-projecting him to be a great hero and having him set a standard for himself that he isn’t able to reach until realizes his weaknesses, which he’s able to do a lot faster than Katsuki was able to.

They don’t just parallel in their relationships, but they parallel narratively too fairly often. I touched on it a bit in this post [x], but I’ll explain it a little more since I find it fascinating.

Since Izuku views Kirishima as Katsuki’s ideal friend, and Katsuki views Iida as Deku’s ideal friend, they kind of act on it in a way that ended up setting up the whole narrative about hand holding in the story.

With this,

Being a clear call back to this:

(I also wanna point out that the memory of Ochako saying that “he’ll think it’s disgraceful to get rescued” being recalled in both of those chapters)

I feel like both “You’ve always managed to outpace me!!” and “I probably shouldn’t be the one…” are proof of that insecurity I mentioned earlier. They truly don’t believe that they’re the most important people to each other, and their mutual belief in that just kind of proves them wrong ironically. These two scenes is them indirectly extending their hand through someone else, because they think that someone else would do it better.

There’s way too much emphasis on them being scared to hold hands for it to be considered platonic, IM SORRY BUT IM NOT BUYING IT

I’m sorry if this wasn’t coherent, it’s literally 2am where I am…

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Swallowed Whole by The Flame (Messmer the Impaler x Tarnished! Reader) 8

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS | NEXT

Summary: The storehouse calls to you, your path awaits.

A/N: I've been ill for a while, so this is coming out when I feel better! Sorry for the delay! A promise is a promise! More interactions!

A03 link

-

Chapter 8: The Encounter

The rest of your day is spent avoiding Messmer as best as you can, despite the heavy enforcement of soldiers who seem to follow your every move. It comes to you with great unease and irritation, but you're thankful when you've eaten supper and you can be to yourself for the rest of the evening,

Your thoughts are spent thinking about the specimen storehouse and where your heart lies in the books you could be reading. It comes with great restraint not to sneak out and go there in the dead of night, but you promise yourself you would rather worm your way through befriending Ansbach better to gain some further insight.

You go to sleep slightly content with your goals, hoping you can go through with them easily.

Ansbach is who you go to seek out after breaking your fast, dressing simply in your usual garbs before you find him in his usual spot. You strike up a conversation with him for a bit before you know his suspicions are up, knowing you're up to no good.

"You know, Lord Messmer will not be too pleased in knowing you're not where you are."

"How so? He's not looking for me, he's not sought me out." You shrug, though you cannot help but eye the red-cladded knight who loiters close by. He's aware of your presence down here, but he is allowing it for some reason. Could it be some ploy to think he's fine with it all?

"I think his Lord is so caught up in worrying about me, he should be addressing the real issue." You continue, "Any news of Miquella? Or even Lady Leda?"

"It seems Leda has found the gift you left." Ansbach addressed plainly, "What she wishes to do to deal with our betrayals, I am still left in the dark of. I have no doubt she will be finding some way to create an ambush."

"Best be on our best behaviour then." You jest, but Ansbach grunts in response. Why must everyone be so grumpy in this Keep, no, these lands? You remember fellow allies like the kindly girl Roderika, the polite sorcerer Rogier, and Boc your seamster - even in the coldness and darkness of the world, they still found kindness that could be shared with strangers.

Two days pass since your conversation with Ansbach, and despite lingering for far too long in the storehouse staring at the endless shelves, you cannot finally help the urge that calls to you.

Only dressed in a nightgown and dressing gown, its green silk robes still feel foreign on your skin. You scamper to the door of your chambers barefoot, the cold wooden floor cool against your skin as you slowly pull the door open. Looking to see no one there, you gather yourself, shutting the door behind you as darkness engulfs you in the small tower.

Feeling along the walls as your aid, you trek downwards, careful to keep your pacing quiet.

Quick as a mouse, sharp as a cat. You tell yourself as you avoid what you think are soldiers who are posted along the lower grounds, patrolling as they go.

You stick to the shadows as best as you can, passing the infirmary as you near the steps heading down into the dimly lit storehouse. Your smile broads, victory is on the horizon as you continue to sneak before you find yourself in endless bookshelves. 

Finding a small candle and taking it along with you, you pace down the bookcases until you cannot find Sir Ansbach in his usual spot. Instead of him, you find the endless books you have been dying to open since you last spoke with him.

You feel a sense of pride wash over you, eagerly picking up the first book with too much force that it knocks the tower to the ground, some books clatter open with a loud crash as you freeze, assessing your situation before turning back to continue with the pages.

You find books on the history of the lands, of the Hornsent, the war and tyranny that seem to address in length of Messmer's battles, but you work your way to find one that is of great interest to you—the History of Queen Marika and the Golden Order.

It's when your foolishness and brashness bring you to be unaware for a moment, too engrossed in what's around you, that when you try to reach for a book on the shelf that is too high for you, a voice hisses out to you in the darkness.

"Thou art rather brazen at which hour thee sneaketh."

You almost scream out, but catch yourself, your voice being stuck in your throat as you turn to who stands behind you.

You should've known you were being followed, but nothing had prepared you to finally come face to face with the redhead. You had to admit, it was rather haunting how someone so tall as he was able to move around with ease of not disrupting noise. Despite the darkness, your candle caught a glimpse of his red hair, almost blending in with the bookcases. He appears to you how an apparition would, his form languid and swaying as if he is uncertain as to what your next moves shall be. He has a ghost-like quality that only he could carry in a Keep so full of others. He instead thrives in the abyss, in the dampened walls and cold grey spots. You wonder what he carries, the stoicism that he was born with, would it be broken if he finally saw his mother again? And just how long had it been since he last saw her?

"Firstly thee fight mine own men liketh a drunken in a tavern." He spouts. "Next I findeth thee sneaking off to mine own library. Bid me, where shalt I findeth thee next? Sneaking wine into thy chambers?"

"Are you taking note of everywhere I go?" You bemoaned. "If I had known better, it seems you enjoy stalking me."

The glare he sends you is not enough to make you cower, rather you swear you see his cheeks redden at your words. He averts his eye from you, but he keeps his mood sour. "Bid me, art thee going to starteth destroying mine own books?"

You stare at him incredulously, "I read, you know?"

It's his time to gawk, his snakes look between one another before looking up to their master, the three staring as if they are silently communicating. You can't help but feel like the fool at this moment.

Messmer surprises you as if he is a grumpy unapproachable cat, slowly inching his way towards you, his movement slow, hesitant. There is bewilderment present in his features as he whispers, "Thee... read?"

"Yes," Your words are mixed with a weary laugh that has been bubbling inside your throat, "you believe I'm ready to tear your books apart like a beast?"

He doesn't answer that, rather he's quiet, maybe from embarrassment for assuming.

"Look-" you begin to walk closer towards him, not even getting as close as you predicted before something is face to face with you, squaring off. You're startled back, keeping eye contact with one of the serpents that had unwound itself around Messmer's torso to stare down at you. You never realised even up close how vivid its scales were, bright and a brilliant crimson hue. 

You also realise the difference between both serpents: one had startling blue-green eyes, the other matching Messmer's. One is slightly bigger, the other slimmer and longer. You cannot help but feel inquisitive by the one inches away from your face, it also doesn't move as it inspects you. Instinctively, you hold a hand out, somewhat frightful it could change its mind and latch its jaws around your hand, but rather than that, it takes in your scent, its long tongue flickers up your finger before you gingerly stroke along its nose once it has investigated you enough.

"Woah," you marvel in wonder, "they are beautiful." Messmer seems stiff and unresponsive, watching but not daring to move. You assume he's in two minds: fight you off his serpents or allow you to continue, however, you're still hesitant you've overstepped.

His skin even ashen holds a light blush to his face, and it finally dawns on you. He can sense what the snakes feel, for his golden eye is sharp and wide in shock. He does not recoil from you, but he finally does seem to come back from whatever trance he's in, nodding in agreement with your statement. 

"Do they have names?" You ponder aloud.

Messmer's voice is soft as he points to the one with blue eyes, "Fos," he points to the other, "Eos."

It is Fos who turns from you to look up to Messmer, almost pleased to be finally formally introduced, which brings a smile to your face. To think, these serpents have their personalities and thoughts, working independently from their master if they wished.

You realise you need to say more so it does not fill the air with awkwardness, "You asked if I read?"

"I did."

"I do because I wish to learn," you answer, "Not only of these lands but of the one I have long forgotten. I am Tarnished, yes, but I also had a life before, one I have not remembered in a long time. If I am to defeat Miquella and know of his plans, I must learn more of what I'm up against."

Messmer is silent as he takes them in, his face stoic and cold but his eye is darting across your face, over the books surrounding you. It is only then that he sighs heavily. "Very well. If it is true t' is what thee needeth, it shalt be provided." The smile that grows on your face as you hear his words, "However, thee shall not seeketh this inf'rmation without mine own aid. Nor shall I allow thee to be in the storehouse alone."

A fair agreement. You think to yourself, soaking in his deal. "Deal?" You are the one to hold your hand out to him, an olive branch of peace. He stares at your hand then your face, slowly reaching out, his large clawed hand warm as you predicted, swallowing yours in the softness of his skin. "Deal."

It feels like a long time before one of you remembers to pull away, your hand feels extra cold away from his heat, the power he exudes. You go pick up the book you wished to read, but Messmer is quick to add, "T'is yours to read," his voice is a gentle whisper in the coldness of the night, "if it keeps thee from fighting mine own men."

It dawns on you, that his tone is not dour when he tells you that, there is a tinge of humour laced within him when he wants to be droll. "Now, that I don't know I can keep as a promise, Lord Messmer."

-

A/N: So, I wanted the serpent names to be cute and matching. Fun fact: Fos means light and Eos means dawn but also is the personification of dawn🥺

[bimbo-baggins17]

KINKTOBER REQUEST!

hear me out:

incest, boot worship, and rape (I forget the numbers oops) with Kurt Matheson.

the idea in my head was that you're his sister or daughter. because of his untreated issues and very sensitive mental state, you visit him often to check on him. you end up staying over one night, nd during that night, it became unsafe to go outside, so you're stuck with him until further notice.

he confides in you about how long it's been since he's had a woman around him, and you get weirded out and ask him to stop, which bums him out.

in the middle of the night, he comes onto you, babbling about how desperate he is and how pretty you are and how much he needs you. ofc, he's a vet and works out, so he's much stronger and can easily overpower you. you wake up out of your sleep screaming and crying, and he ends up raping you.

finally feeling some sort of control, he tells you to worship him - his body, his voice, his very being - and he starts with shoving you down onto your hands and knees, one booted foot heavy on your spine while you're forced to lick at his other boot, cleaning away the dirt and grime.

I KNOW I JUST WROTE THE WHOLE DAMN THING OUT, BUT IF ANYONE CAN WRITE THIS, IT'S YOU!

I’M POSTING THIS ONE EARLY BECAUSE I CANT KEEP IT TO MYSELF ANYMORE

I know I already told you in our messages how much I loved this but OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SO MUCH. YOUR BRAIN IS BEAUTIFUL BNUUY. Hands down my favorite request like EVER. I went with it being his daughter. Definitely more of a fic than a drabble. Oopsies.

TW: DDDNE!!! Rape and incest!!! Don’t like, don’t read.

One of the only times Kurt would make an exception to answering the door is when he knew you were expected. Every other week, like clockwork, you’d come with some groceries and necessities for your mentally unstable father.

“Hurry. Come in, come in.” His voice is gruff as he quickly ushers you in out of the storm before locking the door once you’re barely past the threshold.

You take a moment to look around his dimly lit space, discarded food cans litter the floor. You sigh as you set the bags of groceries down before stooping to try tidy clean some of it up. Kurt turns to come over to you, his eyes drifting to your ass as you do.

“You know, if you kept your space clean, it would probably help you a bit mentally.” You say with your back still to him. Honestly it probably wouldn’t do much to his fragile mental state but you still tried.

“You worry too much.” He says dismissively coming up beside you.

With a sigh, you straighten up and look at him, “Maybe you don’t worry enough.”

He huffs out a laugh, “You sound just like your mother. Trust me. I worry plenty.”

You shake your head but drop it instead, not wanting to argue. It was draining with him and you were always walking on egg shells. You opt for putting away the items you brought. “I’ll get these put away and then I’ll head out. I can’t stay long this time, sorry dad.”

He exhales and rubs a hand over his stubble. “Can’t give your old man a couple more minutes?”

“Sorry, not tonight. But I’ll be back next week with your med refills.”

He waves a hand at that, “Don’t. Theyre useless anyways.”

You stop and look up at him. “Are you implying you aren’t taking them anymore?”

Kurt looks away, shaking his head. “They don’t work anyways.”

“They can’t work if you don’t take them consistently. We’ve been over this.”

“Yeah you really sound like your mother now.”

You give him a look, unamused by him. “I only say that because I care.”

The lights flicker and both of you look over to the window seeing the storm has gotten significantly worse in the short amount time you’ve been here.

Your dad looks back to you again, “I don’t think I’m comfortable with you out in the weather like this.”

And that’s how you get roped into staying the night at your dad’s. You knew he worried. God he worried about everything. What led to your parents’ divorce was that exact reason. His PTSD got worse and worse until he was unable to leave the house for fear of the end of the world.

Both of you sit on the floor with a lantern between the two of you, barely giving off enough light. The sound of the storm outside drowns out the scraping of utensils in the cans you were eating from.

“How’s school been? I feel so out of the loop anymore.” Kurt speaks up, trying to make conversation.

You shrug lazily, “Alright I guess. You’d be in the loop more if you had a cellphone like a normal person.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I’ll ignore that comment,” He mumbles. His eyes move slowly over you again. He’d be lying if he didn’t think you were beautiful, the way your curves filled out more over time, the way your breasts seemed to nearly double in size over the last year. His chewing halts for a second as he feels a familiar twitch in his pants, one he hadn’t felt in so long. “You got a boyfriend?” He questions after a moment.

You stop and look up at him, shaking your head, “No.”

Slowly he nods his head. “You should. You’re beautiful.”

You shift a little where you sit, uncomfortable with the compliment. Sure it was normal for a dad to compliment his daughter but not your dad. “Um. Thanks.”

“I mean it. You’re looking more and more like your mom did in her prime.”

You look up at him again, “Uh..yeah I guess so.”

“Filling out like her too. Getting her curves.” He continues on. He probably should stop but it’s been so long and yeah it’s probably wrong but he’s so starved for pussy, he’ll take whatever he can. It’d be a waste of a perfect opportunity if he didn’t try.

“Dad?” You question with your eyebrows furrow together tightly.

He sighs and hangs his head. “Sorry. It’s just,” Kurt sighs once more and shifts a little closer to you placing a calloused hand on your leg. “It’s been so long since I’ve been with a woman and I-“

“Oh my god, dad. Gross! Stop it!” You shove his hand off of you and quickly put some distance back between you too.

Kurt’s hand clenches into a fist as he brings it back to his lap. “Right. Yeah. Sorry.” He tries to suppress the disappointment in his voice.

“I’m going to bed, I just..ugh.” You were unnerved to say the least. You get up off the floor, leaving the half eaten can of food on the ground.

“You-uh..you can take my cot.” He calls after you before he’s mentally beating himself up again. This was going to be a long night.

Kurt tosses and turns for what feels like hours on the floor, his cock so painfully hard. He sits up a little to look at you on his cot. You looked so peaceful while sleeping, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest with each breath. It was pure torture to have a woman so close but not being able to do anything about it. Any rational part of his brain was gone years ago so his conscience wasn’t telling him to stop as he got up off the floor, slowly making his way over to your sleeping form.

He reaches down and brushes some hair off your face, “So beautiful,” He murmurs, letting his hand move off your face, slowly tracing down your neck over the pulse point, then your collarbone before he’s allowing himself to squeeze your supple breast. He bites down on his lip to keep from making any noise noticing you weren’t wearing a bra to sleep. His cock throbs.

Kurt palms himself to try and cause any kind of relief this way as he continues to knead your breast, feeling the pebbled nipple poking his palm. He lets out a shuddered exhale. His eyes trail down further seeing the hem of your shirt bunched up a little. A peek wouldn’t hurt right? Not like you’d know. Slowly he inches the shirt up until he’s able to see at least one of your breasts. Leaning down slowly, he presses an open mouthed kiss to it.

You stir a little in your sleep but don’t wake up. He freezes for a second to make sure you stay asleep before he envelopes your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

“Fuck,” He murmurs, releasing it. Making a bolder choice, he lets his hand continue its decent to the waistband of your pants before he’s slipping it in, finding your cunt with his fingers. He draws in a shaky breath feeling how you were wet. “What’re you dreaming about babygirl?” He whispers into the dark.

Against anyone else’s better judgment, he eases your pants and panties down, revealing your core to him. He hesitates for a second looking at it, imagining how tight it would feel wrapped around his shaft.

“I’m so sorry baby. Just been so long..and..and it hurts. You know I love you. You’re my beautiful little girl. I know you’d forgive your dear old dad for this.” He rambles quietly before he’s easing onto the bed between your legs as he bends them. Quickly he fishes his leaking cock out, running it through your folds.

Time isn’t a luxury he has right now. As much as he’d love to savor this, he can’t so he pushes into you, keeping his eyes on your face to make sure you aren’t waking up. Slowly he starts to rock into you, biting back moans that threaten to spill out.

“Oh sweet girl..so good to me.” He pants out, rocking his hips into you faster as he chases his much needed release. The caution he had at first is quickly abandoned as his thrusts grow harsher.

You’re stirred from your slumber feeling something that you most definitely shouldn’t be. Hazily you try to make sense of what’s going on as you come to your senses. Quickly you put together that your father is on top of you fucking into you. “Wha-? S-stop! Stop!”

Kurt’s eyes fly open and land on your face seeing you’re now awake. “Shh..it’s okay baby. I know. I know. Just couldn’t help myself-“

You claw at him to try and get him off, shoving at him but he doesn’t budge. “Dad! Please stop!!” You cry.

“No. No. Just-..nghh..be good for your dad.” He grits out.

You continue to squirm and try to fight which only serves to irritate him. He can’t have that. The years of working out and military training served well and he’s able to easily over power you, pinning you down tightly against the cot. “I said, be good.” He continue to pound into your poor pussy, taking what he wants and not caring about your protests.

“Stop! Please!” You keep repeating the words through far tears that roll down your cheeks.

“Don’t cry baby. You’re helping out your dad.” It’s his attempt to console you. As if reminding you it was your father who was fucking you would somehow make it better.

Your protests soon die off, continuing to cry and sniffle under him.

“Good girl. Such a good girl.” He coos before he’s cumming into you. He leans down to press a wet kiss to your chest. “Now tell daddy thank you.”

Quickly you shake your head. The worst was over, so you assumed. You’d leave after he got off of you. “What? No. You’re sick. Sicker than I thought.” You sniffle.

Kurt leans back, a scowl on his face. “Ungrateful brat.” He spits the words out.

Your eyes widen. You’d upset him, that much was clear. You shake your head again, taking back what you said for the sake of not having him rape you again. “No. No wait. I’m sorry..I’m sorry I didn’t mean it.”

“Oh yeah? You’re sorry, hm?”

You nod your head. “Yeah. Yes, yes I’m sorry dad.” It made you sick to call him that now.

“Show me then. Worship me.”

You look up at him with wide eyes. “W-what?”

“I said, worship me. Make your dad happy.”

You don’t even know where to begin, how to lie that well. Kurt is unhappy with how long you take. Slipping out of you, he quickly yanks you up and shoves you onto your stomach on the floor before you can process what’s happening, his one booted foot shoved directly into the center of your back while the other one rested by your head on the floor.

“Lick it.” He instructs.

“What? Lick what?”

He huffs in frustration, “My boot. Lick it. Show your dad how much you love him.”

You start to protest despite your compromised position, but Kurt presses his boot more firmly into your back. “Lick. It.”

You shakily raise your head and stick your tongue out, giving a little kitten lick to the toe of it.

“More.” He encourages, adding more pressure. “Clean it with your damn tongue.”

You sniffle but oblige him, knowing you weren’t getting out of this without doing so. You run your tongue along the toe of his boot, moving to the front of it, dipping down to the sole of it.

“There we go. Much better.” He praises, “Now tell me you love me.”

You suck in a shaky breath, “I-love you dad.”

He hums happily, “Good. Now my voice.”

“I..love your voice.” You sniffle.

He releases a little of the pressure on your back, “My body.”

You fight the urge to recoil at the words he wants you to speak, “I-…I love your body.” You want to puke.

“Mm. There we go. You made your dad so happy, little girl.” He praises softly, “That wasn’t so bad, yeah?”

You shake your head for the sake of appeasing him, “N-no..it wasn’t.”

“Good,” He takes his boot off of your back but then places it down infront of your face. “Now lick this one.”