#enjoying this book a lot so far! for many reasons! but HAD to share about the implied trans character ♡

[hopecomesbacktolife]

I don’t have the words to articulate this more fully without getting way too into the contextual plot and subsequently giving away so many spoilers, but I think José Tyler in The Rift by Peter David just saw their future post-transition self as an out and proud trans woman?! good for her honestly ♡

source: this convo José has with Pike on pages 36-37 (in this edition at least) (convo begins w/ “there was a chime at his door..” ends w/ “come on. let’s greet our guests”)

[gghostwriter]

One Single Thread of Gold

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Penelope tries to solve a Spencer Reid riddle and the one time she (and the team) meet the reason behind all the changes Trope: Fluff! Just fluff and team banter! w.c: 4.0k a/n: For some reason, my earlier post on this disappeared dunno why. But this is a very self indulgent fic as reader’s background is basically based on the industry I work in. I had a lot of fun writing the team banter and I hope you enjoy it too! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗

The first clue presented itself on a dull Wednesday night as the team, minus Hotch and Rossi, were leaving the bullpen after a full day of pushing papers. Penelope in all of her sunshine and colorful glory was buzzing about these accessories that she once spotted on a storefront window.

“I saw a pair of earrings and a matching necklace that would look so good with that top you bought the other day, JJ. You know, the blue one with those soft sleeves—they would look great with it. It’s tres boho chic.”

JJ smiled, opening her mouth to reply, but Spencer beat her to it.

“Did you know that boho chic was actually a response to political and social movements?”

“Wait, what?” Emily interjected.

He took her disbelief as a sign to continue on. “Yeah, yeah. There’s an article written about it in Vogue—softness and femininity historically appears in moments of political stress and war. Just like in the 70s with the hippie and anti-war movement that defined their style as a generation.”

They all piled into the elevator and turned to face the boy genius like he grew another head. For all they knew, this could be a clone and a very bad one at that. The Spencer Reid that they knew had absolutely no interest in the realms of fashion.

Penelope was the first to break the silence. “Vogue?”

“Kid, what gives? Just the other time, you didn’t know how many shoes a woman owns and now you’re some kind of expert?” Derek asked with both eyebrows raised.

“Did not knowing activate some kind of button that made you want to read about it?” Emily added on, feeling like she was in some kind of TV prank show.

“What?” Spencer licked his lips, nervous with all the attention on him. He felt like he was about to slip something up that he had been keeping to himself for a while now. A hidden precious gem that was you. “I—I like to read.” A believable excuse except his voice went up an octave, giving him away.

The three women shared a look.

“But you read academic textbooks and classic literature,” JJ stated.

Penelope added on. “Not fashion magazines.”

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I don’t discriminate when it comes to reading. If it’s interesting—” he shifted his weight one side to another, thinking that the ride down on the elevator seemed to be taking slower than usual. “—I’ll read it.”

Penelope narrowed her eyes. She was no profiler but she could smell a lie from a mile away way. That wasn’t the whole truth. Dr. Spencer Reid was hiding something.

“Okay, see you tomorrow!” he squeaked out as he ran out of the elevator once it hit the lobby.

She turned to the three profilers, stunned with the boy genius’ erratic behavior. “Huh, did anybody else get the feeling that Spencer was hiding something?”

“Maybe, but the kid does read a lot. Maybe he just ran out of books.” Morgan shrugged.

The other two profilers tilted their heads and slowly nodded in agreement. It wasn’t far off on something Spencer would do. He did once pick up a pamphlet in the airport to read as mentioned before to her by Derek, granted it was for a case but still, Penelope couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else.

So when she arrived home that very same night, she propped up her laptop and got to digging. Boy Genius was hiding something big and Little Miss Oracle of Quantico can find anything with her tech skills. She’ll get to the bottom of this mystery, once and for all.

———

Spencer was glad to be coming home to your presence. Having spied the lights still on from the outside of the apartment, he took the steps two at a time, excited to see his 2nd favorite person after his mother—you.

“Spence?” You called out, having heard the mahogany front door open. “Is that you, baby?”

“Hey, love. I missed you,” he deposited his satchel to the nearby sofa and ran to give you a hug.

You burrowed yourself into his arms. All the muscles in your body relaxing as you caught a whiff of his cedar wood perfume—the same scent you’ve gifted to him during the early stages of dating. “I missed you too. How was your day?”

“Better now with you,” his words coming out muffled as he refused to detach himself from the embrace. “Actually, I almost slipped up today.”

You extricated from his arms to give him an inquisitive look. The slight scrunch on your nose and raised brows made his heart flutter. How expressive, free, and trusting you were. It reminded him of your first encounter. How you teasingly asked him if he was a serial killer when he offered you a ride home in the pouring rain and how you easily accepted regardless.

“Yeah? Did any of them catch on?” you probed as you pulled him by his belt loops to the direction of the bedroom.

He laughed, finding your aggression cute. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Maybe we should schedule dinner with them sometime,” you coyly suggested as you slowly started to unravel his tie. “I mean, we’ve been together for over a year now and I have moved into your apartment, under the guise of watering your plants while you’re away. Which is a lie, by the way—”

“I have plants!” he protested. His hands divesting you out of his sweater, bringing to view his favorite silk set in deep purple that accentuated your skin and the blush on your cheeks.

“—that I brought over, Spence,” you quipped back. “But don’t worry, I won’t spill how the intelligent FBI agent fooled naive me into moving in with him.”

There was a glint in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. “Love, I wouldn’t exactly call you naive—” his voice going an octave lower. “—not when you’re looking at me with those tempting eyes of yours.”

Giggling, you leaned in for a kiss, one that he quickly took over. His calloused dominant hand wrapped around the back of your neck, effectively caging you in while his other cradled your cheek—a stark contrast to the other. Kissing Spencer had always felt like a religious experience that you never want to part from.

Reluctantly pulling away, you caught glimpse of his need for you. His hazel eyes now dark as ink, nostrils slightly flared, teeth sinking into his lower lip, and his dominant hand dug into the fleshy nape of your neck. It made you feel desirable, like the goddess that he would call you when he’s on his knees tasting nectar from the source.

The discussion of inviting the team out for dinner was long forgotten. No other words were spoken as you pushed him on the bed—only the cries of his and your name and moans of ‘yes’ echoed well into the night.

***

The second clue was uncovered when Spencer walked into the cold windy bullpen with new black cardigan adorning his lithe body. It was non-descriptive to the untrained eye but for fashion enthusiast Penelope Garcia, she knew what those four white lines on the sleeve meant—luxury label and priced well above their pay grade.

She narrowed her eyes. The Spencer she knew wouldn’t dare spend his salary on anything besides limited first edition books. Something was truly up and she planned to get to the bottom of it as her initial online search turned up nothing.

“Reid, that’s a really nice sweater,” she complimented, throwing in her bait.

He smiled. The thought of who gave it to him warmed his heart. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks Garcia.”

Her sparkly pink kitten heels clacking on the floor as she came closer. “Can I see it?” she innocently asked.

The request threw Spencer off the loop but thought nothing of it as he shrugged and handed it to her—still warm from body temperature.

Her squeals caught the attention of the other profilers filling into the office.

“What is it, baby girl?” Morgan deposited his bag on the table and stationed himself beside her. “It’s Reid’s new sweater. Are you seeing something I’m not seeing?”

Garcia rolled her eyes. This was why females are considered more observant that their sex counterpart. Her chocolate thunder was a profiler but how could he not notice what she was deducing?

“Huh,” Emily surmised. “Based on the fibers, it’s definitely not polyester. Possibly a 100% wool, what do you think, JJ?”

“It says here on the tag—100% virgin wool,” she read out loud. “That makes it very expensive, right Garcia?”

The colorful tech analyst smiled. Her girls could never let her down. “Right you are, girlfriends! But it’s not only that, this—” pointing at the four stripes on the sleeve. “—this is a signature Thom Browne detail. Their prices go up to at least 600 dollars—” they all turned to Reid who seemed clearly agitated. “—now why does our boy wonder have a piece that could buy at most five cute heels?”

With his vast intellect, he couldn’t think of a way to weasel out of this impromptu interrogation. He couldn’t very well say that it was a gift now could he? If he did, that would lead to another hard hitting question ‘from who?’ He raked his hand through his curly hair, taking the same path as yours did just earlier as you gave him a kiss goodbye.

When you gifted him the cardigan from your last New York business trip, he really thought nothing of its material equivalence, besides feeling grateful and loved. It was proof that you paid attention to even the littlest details about him.

“Hey Spence, I got you something,” you looked up at him with sparkling eyes. The first thing you had done when you got home was run into his arms. A simple act that healed his aching heart from missing it’s other half.

You reached into your luggage, enthusiastically pulling out the black clothing wrapped in tissue paper like some magician pulling out a rabbit from a hat. “Here you go!”

“A new sweater!” He exclaimed.

You rocked on your heels, looking bashful as you explained the reasoning behind it. “I noticed you fidgeting when you wore the cardigan JJ gifted you last Christmas, the polyester fibers used on it must have been really itchy so I got you a new one—” your eyes widened at how your explanation could be taken the wrong way. “—not that her gift wasn’t great! No, it was very cute! It’s just—I want you to be comfortable and protected during your cases in cold states. Polyester is a good insulator of heat but wool is still the best.”

He loved how unabashed you rambled about your interests. That was one of the first things he piqued his notice. How you liked to share your knowledge about the fashion industry that you work for but never coming across as stuck up or snobby, you just genuinely wanted to educate anyone who had a wrong perception of the billion dollar commerce. Admittedly, he was one of them but hearing you rave about it’s nitty-gritty details and socio-economic movements changed his mind. It also helped that a beautiful and intelligent woman, such as yourself, was educating him.

He pulled you in for a kiss, stopping all the worries that ran through your head. “I love it. Thank you.”

“It’s nothing at all, baby. I like taking care of you. Just like how you take care of me,” you reasoned. “Plus I got it on sale courtesy of the magazine connections.”

A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie. It was Penelope with an eyebrow raised at the subtle smile that graced his face while he replayed the moment in his head.

“Okay,” Morgan drawled. “What’s got you smiling, Pretty boy?”

“Nothing,” he squeaked out, turning to see Hotch make his way across the office. Spencer hurriedly collected his things and started to move even before their unit chief could call their attention.

“We have a case,” Hotch announced.

The remaining BAU members all looked at each other, silently communicating about Reid’s irregular demeanor, before piling into the conference room for another grueling scene of murder.

“He’s been acting weird,” Garcia rushed out. “Definitely hiding something. What do you think, Em?”

Emily nodded. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“A girl?” JJ guessed.

“Yes, must be a special one for him to keep secret for so long,” Garcia surmised. “Do you think he’ll hate it if I go further digging around to find out who she is?”

“Further?” Emily clarified.

JJ laughed. “Probably, let’s wait for him to volunteer the information. Okay, Garcia?”

She sighed, shoulders drooping, before nodding in agreement.

***

The third clue was quite literally handed to Penelope Garcia on the jet after a case when she accompanied the team.

“Cold Alaska is so not good for my skin,” she grumbled as she rummaged her bottomless bag for her favorite hand cream. “I love going with you all on trips rather than being stuck in my own tech cave but the weather wasn’t it.”

Morgan chuckled. “Aw c’mon baby girl, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy our time together?”

“You, my sculpted hunk, and the fireplace were the highlight,” Penelope turned to the other female profilers. “My beauties, do any of you have lotion? I think I lost mine.”

Before JJ or Emily could even utter a word, a tube made its way to her lap courtesy of her seat mate, Dr. Spencer Reid.

“Reid, since when do you carry lotion?” Emily inquired.

He shrugged. “Hand cream has it’s benefits besides from moisturizing the skin, it also provides an additional layer of protection. Depending on it’s properties, it can also repair and undo damage.”

The females all shared a look. This was another unexplainable behavior from their resident genius.

“We know that,” JJ stated. “We just thought you didn’t.”

His brows furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, besides from the fact that you’ve never shown interest about skincare before, isn’t it a stereotype for men not to know? Unless—” Emily slyly smiled and nodded at Garcia to continue.

“Unless you have a girlfriend that we don’t know about,” Garcia bounced on her seat.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Spencer’s eyes widened in alarm. He didn’t realize he was walking into a trap before it was too late. “What makes you say that?”

They laughed.

JJ started. “Besides from you suddenly being knowledgeable in fashion—“

“—or having a pricey sweater you’d never buy for yourself—” Emily added on.

“Or, or—“ Garcia reached out to touch his hand. Which made Spencer react with a high pitched call of her name. “—having a shea butter lotion with rough hands!” She waved the tube up in the air. “Plus, this is half empty. So either it’s not working which I doubt since this is a good brand or you keep this in your bag for a special someone to use!”

Derek chuckled. “Baby girl, you could be a profiler at this point.”

“Oh tell me something I don’t know,” she quipped back. “So Reid, want to tell us the truth?”

He sighed, finding no escape. “Yes, yes I have a girlfriend.”

The girls all shrieked with laughter and their own corresponding questions of who is she? How did you meet? How long has this been going on? What does she do for a living? Is she pretty? Oh I bet she is!

“Looks like that cat is out of the bag,” Rossi nonchalantly stated.

Four sets of eyes turned to look at one of the BAU founders. “Rossi, you knew about this and didn’t tell me?” Garcia gasped, a hand to her chest at the thought of betrayal.

He laughed. “I caught them on a dinner date once and our boy wonder over here—“ nodded in Reid’s direction. “—begged me not to out him yet, said he wanted to be the one to tell the team the news but that was like what, six months ago?”

“Six months ago?” Emily repeated.

“Wait, wait. Hotch, don’t tell me you also knew?” Morgan asked.

The unit chief smiled. “She was added to Reid’s emergency contact last February.”

“February? That’s almost a year ago!” JJ sputtered out.

The tech analyst turned to glare at the youngest member of the BAU. “Reid, you better start spilling all the details or so help me, I will stalk all your digital footprint when we land until I find out who she is, where she lives, and what her deepest darkest secret is.”

“What about hearing it all from her, instead?” He rubbed the back of his neck. The secrecy had gone on for so long and there was no time like the present to introduce his chosen family to his chosen partner—hopefully until the end of time. “She wants to treat you all out for dinner tonight.”

All four nodded vigorously as they watched him pull out his phone and send a quick text to which you readily replied and agreed to.

“My man,” Derek sighed. “Can’t believe you got a girlfriend without me being your wingman.”

“Answer me at least this, is she pretty and does she make you happy?” Garcia asked. No matter how nosey she may be, she only wanted the best for Spencer and if the recent lightness and smiles were all caused by his mystery girlfriend, she already approved.

“The prettiest,” Spencer gushed out. “She’s my own personal sunshine.”

The three girls melted into their seats. Their youngest was all grown up waxing prose over his lover.

“She makes you sappy too,” Derek teased.

***

[EXTRA - When the mystery was uncovered]

Spencer had never felt any more nervous that this moment as he, with the rest of the team minus Hotch and Rossi, wait for your arrival. He sat with his back to the restaurant entrance and his cardigan laying on the empty seat beside him as a reservation mark. His eyes had been going back and forth to his idle phone and to the conversation the team was having.

Morgan noted his state of distress and chuckled. “You okay there, lover boy? She’s still coming right, your mystery girlfriend?”

“Yeah, yeah. She said she was on her way 9 minutes and 24 seconds ago and based on the route and traffic, she should have been here 45 seconds earlier. Just worried that something might have happened.”

Penelope leaned in, picking on her bubblegum pink choice of drink as she did. “You know, if you just told me her name I could have tracked every movement by now and you wouldn’t be sitting here worrying.”

“What—no Garcia, I don’t want her tracked plus she didn’t want you to know everything about her even before meeting her,” his voice going up an octave in your defense.

She shrugged. “I’m just saying. I mean we don’t know a single thing about her—”

“We do know she exists and you’ve been together for almost a year now,” Emily interjected.

“Actually, it’s been more than year—one year and 124 days to be exact.”

“Buttercup, all I’m saying is we don’t even know how she looks—” Garcia gasped, having spotted a passerby on the window and what she was wearing. “Oh my gosh, that maroon coat is to die for and that textured leather bag—I wonder if I could track her down and ask where she got it.”

“Oh she’s pretty,” JJ noted.

Derek smirked. “Baby girl, tell me if you plan to ask her ‘cause I wouldn’t mind asking for her number.”

The tech analyst’s eyes further widened as she noted the attractive woman going inside the restaurant.

“You weren’t kidding about that coat, Garcia, it looks really nice,” JJ appraised.

Emily squinted her eyes, taking note of the garment in question. “It looks high quality, probably vintage and—is she going near us?”

“Oh gods, she is! Act natural, act natural!” Penelope chanted as she repeatedly slapped Derek’s arm.

The stranger stopped behind Spencer. “Hey handsome,” your melodic voice was a siren that called to his every being. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Penelope’s jaw dropped as she took in Derek’s flustered reaction.

“Me?” He pointed at himself, getting picked up in such a public setting was new even for him—the ladies man of the BAU.

You laughed. “Well, you too but I was more of talking to this lover of mine—“ you bent down, kissing your boyfriend’s cheek. “Hey, Spence.”

A series of gasps were heard all around the table.

The youngest stood up and turned to give you a soft kiss on the lips. “Hey, Y/N. I was starting to get worried.”

“I missed the train, sorry I forgot to send an update,” you explained as he helped you into your seat.

Promptly seating back down, he angled his body to yours—all attention on you as if you were the only one in the room. And in a way you were, with how molten his doe eyes stared, alternating between yours and your painted lips that begged to be kissed.

He always felt breathless when you were near. It was as if he found his very own Aphrodite to worship here on earth. Spencer was no believer of fates or destiny but he would pray and light a candle if he needed to, just to keep you his. Your intelligent mind complimenting his, your outgoing personality that draws anyone in, and your face that could launch a thousand ships.

Those eyes that could read the deepest crevices of his fiber of being. Those cheeks that begged to be caressed by his calloused hands. Those soft lips that deserved to be kissed and devoured until you, in turn, were as breathless as he was. He suddenly wished you both were anywhere else but here—specifically in the confines of the apartment where he was free to express his love, devotion, and adoration until you scream his name and beg him to stop. His hand, having found it’s way to your thigh, squeezed the flesh three times—communicating his promise to have your hair laid around you like a halo as you lay under him, bare and writhing with need.

The blonde on the other end of the table cleared her throat, cutting through the tension.

“Okay, Spence,” she smiled. “Mind introducing us to your girlfriend?”

He brought your hand to his lips, leaving a series of sweet kisses on your knuckle. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is the rest of the team. Morgan—“ he gestured to each one. “Emily, JJ, and Garcia.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you!” You exclaimed. “So sorry we’re only meeting now. We wanted to stay in our little bubble for as long as we could plus this handsome FBI agent—” you nudged Spencer’s shoulder. “—wanted to keep me to himself. But where’s Aaron and Dave?”

Emily whispered under her breath. “Aaron? Dave?”

“They had prior commitments, love. They did send their regards and Rossi wants to invite you to the next gathering at his mansion,” Spencer explained.

“Love?” Penelope squeaked out. This was really starting to feel like Twilight zone for the team members.

You nodded. “I’ll definitely plot it on my calendar. Now, I heard you had some questions for me?”

“How’d you two meet?” JJ asked.

“When was the first date?” Emily inquired.

Penelope brought out a pen and paper. “What’s you social security number?”

Derek snorted at that. “Do you have any other siblings?”

Spencer’s eyebrows raised further and further up with each question while your shoulders shook with laughter.

“She has all the time in the world to get to know each of you,” Spencer laid out. “No need to make it sound like an interrogation.” He was wishing to keep you forever, if you’d let him.

You smiled as you caressed his cheek, having caught on to the veiled meaning behind his words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[reiderwriter]

Pent Up

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Spencer tries to comfort the newest team member through their nightmares, but the scene he walks in on is as far from a nightmare as you can get. It's practically a wet dream.

Warnings: Day 29 of Kinktober - masturbation, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, commands, slight BDSM themes, penetrative sex, reader is desperately horny, allusions to cheating/STDs, fingering, etc.

A/N: So close to the end now! Here's another kinktober original. You can find the rest of the months' works on AO3 under my account name (reiderwriter)! If you enjoy it, please leave a comment or reblog! It means a lot.

If you were to be asked what the worst part of a break-up was, you'd probably answer the months of sexual frustration afterwards.

It'd been weeks since you'd been able to itch that particular scratch, and you didn't know how much more you could take it. Having unceremoniously dumped your boyfriend three months prior (cheating bastard as he was), you'd found yourself swamped with work and unable to enjoy any two-person sexual pursuits.

Truth be told, you'd never really quite gotten the hang of pleasuring yourself either. Sure, you knew what you liked in bed, but your fingers weren't long enough to reach where your boyfriends had, and you grew easily tired of rubbing as the lonely hours of the night stretched out.

But with four months of pent-up frustration, you really were on the edge of losing it.

And it was all because of Doctor Spencer Reid.

Your boyfriend had gone around telling everyone who would listen that he was the reason you'd broken up anyway. He had said that he just felt too insecure in a relationship where you were off doing who knows what with your fellow FBI agent in various motels around the country. He left out that his insecurities seemed to disappear when he found himself in bed with one of his gym mates. Or his own coworker. Or his brother's girlfriend. Or one of the numerous other women you'd eventually traced back to him.

Needless to say, you'd wiped your hands of him and immediately ran to your OBGYN to make sure he didn't leave behind anything that lingered. And then you'd sat down and thought about the accusations.

Spencer.

He was attractive, smart, pretty funny at times, and weirdly cute at others. Your ex-boyfriend accusing you of sleeping with him was genuinely the first time that you'd thought about him in that way, though.

But now it was all you could think about. You woke up in the morning with the vague idea of his lips on your chest, tongue twisting and teasing your nipples slowly. You sat through the drive to work absent mindedly, wondering how long he'd last in bed. Meetings were the worse, where you stared at him blatantly and openly as he rambled through whatever new information he was giving out that day, wondering exactly what he'd taste like.

And then you took yourself home to your lonely apartment and tried to recreate those thoughts in your head as you rubbed yourself to release. It was a daily routine you were, for all intents and purposes, horrified by. Not that shame stopped you, though.

It was mid-week, and you'd spent the last three days stuck in a motel room after work, as you helped with your most recent case at the BAU. Three days of being in very close quarters with Spencer, who coincidentally happened to share a wall with you.

You'd tried your best to hold off and not touch yourself with so many of your coworkers around, but a little bit couldn't hurt, and with the clock on your bedside table reading somewhere between three and four am, it was a chance you were willing to take.

The sounds that Spencer could hear through the walls were so quiet at first that he almost missed them. If it wasn't the dead of night and if there had been other noises outside as well, he might have thought nothing of it and gone back to his book.

But the little gasps and moans sounded painful and worried him. Every new member of the team had nightmares at some point or the other, and he hadn't heard you mention them yet. Standing up from his chair, he placed his book face down on the small table and walked to the wall separating your rooms.

Putting his ear to the wall, he could hear everything much clearer. Your laboured breaths, the small moans, the sound of the sheets being tossed this way and that. It sounded bad. Pulling a jacket on, he stepped out of his room and knocked on your door.

You were only growing more frustrated with each flick of your wrist, head filled with images of Spencer over you, whispering in your ear as he stretched you out, or with his head between your legs as you grasped his hair, not willing to let him go.

You were so close to your release that you didn't even register the calls from the other side of the door. You didn't hear Spencer trying the door handle either after hearing a particularly loud groan from inside.

It's not until he's opening the door and calling out to you that you realise that you've been caught.

“Y/N, you need to wake up. You're having a n- oh my god.”

“Spencer!” Throwing the bed sheets back over your naked body, you scramble up the bed as he stops in his tracks, the door having swung closed behind him.

“You didn't lock your door.” He said, trying to maintain eye contact but failing dramatically as his eyes fell. First to your chest, then lower to where your fingers still sat between your thighs under the covers.

“I didn't think anyone was going to walk in.”

“Evidently. I wasn't supposed to see that.”

“No one is supposed to see that, Spencer,” you sighed, letting your head flop down against your pillow again as your hands came up to your face in embarrassment.

“I'm sure your boyfriend would disagree.”

“What boyfriend, Spencer?” You looked him in the eye again then, surprised to see that he'd relaxed slightly. He was a few steps further into the room, hands resting casually in a crossed position against his chest as he leaned against the wall.

“I'm sorry, I didn't realise-”

“That I got cheated on? Don't sweat it, I wasn't exactly broadcasting it at the office.” The corners of his lips turned down in a frown as his eyebrows knitted slightly together.

“If you…if you ever need to talk, I'm Bere. You know, good listener.” You're not sure what it is that makes you say it, bit the words are out of your mouth before you have the common sense to stop them.

“I don't need to talk, Spencer, I need to get railed.” In some sort of divine punishment, your tongue ties as soon as the final word leaves your lips, leaving you sat wondering why the hell you would say that.

Silence fills the room as you sit waiting for a reply until you look up to find Spencer trying his hardest to control his expressions. He can't hide the flush creeping up his neck, though, or the stiffness in his movements.

“It seems you were doing fine by yourself.” You let yourself relax slightly into the conversation as he lets his gaze fall further and further down your body.

“It’s not the same. It’s not the same as when someone else is doing it, is what I mean.”

“Well, how were you doing it? Maybe there’s something else you can be doing to help?”

Gently, he lowers himself to the edge of your bed, slowly running a hand up the sheets as you stare at him, eager to see where he takes this new line of movement.

You hold on to them still, keeping yourself covered, until his eyes meet yours once again.

“Show me.” The demand is simple, but you find yourself utterly compelled. The sheets gently fall away as you suddenly sit bare in front of the man, legs spread wide as you anticipate his next move.

“I said show me. You need to touch yourself.” Your mouth dropped open in protest but you can see already that he's not listening, eyes entirely focused on your pussy.

You decide against protesting, and with a deep breath you let your hand fall back down between your legs, taking its place on your clit and beginning the slow strokes from earlier.

His gaze is curious, looking like he would on any other tough case as you bite your lip to avoid moaning out.

“Your touch is pretty light, put some more pressure on your clit.” Your body is suddenly obedient and listens to him more than it listens to your conscience and suddenly you’re gasping and moaning again as your wrist works up and down.

“You have two hands, right? Try touching your breasts as well. Your nipples look a little neglected right now.” You listen again, and you’re surprised at how right he is.

You’re sure that with just his instructions, you’d shortly find yourself reaching a climax almost as satisfying as any you’d had with your ex, and he hadn’t even touched you.

You're so lost in your own pleasure, that you don't notice that he's palming himself through his own pants until you hear him hiss through his teeth.

“Spencer, you can deal with that here, too.” For a second, you assume him to bolt, the expression on his face betraying his discomfort at being caught. But he doesn't.

Instead, you watch him unzip his pants and pull out his hot, thick cock, staring slack jawed as your hands keep working over your own body.

“Fuck you’re so big.” You gasp as your eyes train themselves on the small drops of precum glistening on the tip of hs cock as he finally relieves some of the tension in his body.

Watching him distracts you from your own climax, suddenly curious about every noise he makes, every look on his face, the need rolling off of him.

“Why did you stop?”

You don’t bother answering his question, not even looking up from his cock as he stops stroking himself, wondering if he’d messed this delicate situation up by pulling his cock out.

“Please let me sit on it.” You whimper out, surprising even yourself with your whines.

“Are you sure?”

“Spencer, I’ve not had a dick inside me in months. Hell, I’ve not had one that size inside me ever. I want you to fuck me, please.”

He doesn’t need anymore convincing, suddenly pushing you back down and pushing his pants down further again.

“You can’t sit on it, but I will satiate your curiosity.” He pushes in suddenly, and you’re suddenly gasping at the stretch of it.

This is it. This is what you’ve been unable to do for yourself. This is what his hand feels like on you, how his cock feels pulsing inside of you. You’re discovering all these new sensations and suddenly you’re thoughts are empty.

Having both started yourself off, you feel like it takes only a few minutes of his very hot and intense thrusting, for the both of you to come undone.

He lets you cum on his cock, then quickly pulls himself off and rolls away to spend himself in your sheets.

You both sit there panting for a second, side by side, neither of you saying a word as you come down from your highs.

That is until you can stand the silence no longer and have to blurt it out.

“He thought I was cheating on him with you.”

“What? Who did?”

“My ex. He said he was only cheating back because he was sure you were fucking me while we were on cases.”

“... That might be my fault.” Your gaze snaps to him quickly, confused as he stares at you sheepishly.

“I think Morgan’s exact words to me were ‘stop staring at the newbie like she’s the porn magazine you found in the woods as a kid’ and they were swiftly followed by, ‘Morgan, Reid, meet my boyfriend.’”

He looks guilty, but you just laugh.

“You’re only as guilty as I am. I’m sure if you'd have caught any other member of the team in this situation…”

“Please don’t put that thought into my head.”

“All I’m saying is that Rossi definitely wouldn’t have let you stay or told you he needed rail-”

He cuts you off by pressing a kiss to your lips.

“That’s enough conversation for you, too.”

He pulls the sheets up and over the two of you again, and you’re content at the way his hands caress your skin as you do anything but rest up.

[tinydefector]

Okay. You've got me invested on the newest installation of Human Effects.

Now I can't stop imagine both Humans and Mechs alike having some sort of Google Form where they click on the Human/Mech they want to fuck and see which is the most desired amongst their respective species.

Now that I think about it, I think there'll be a lot of fighting. And chaos.

But then again, we live for the drama.

Human Effects Lost Records

Wordcount: 1.5k

Warnings: talk of sex, human/alien, pornhunting

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Masterlist

Lab logs

Did I take this as an opportunity to merge Human effects and laboratory logs together into a series yes I did. I'll be working on the human Effects timeline where human Effects 2 is spin-off pieces from the mainline.

_____________________

The Holo, cyber and inter webs had a strange beauty to them. It has given many the ability to communicate with different planets, species, to share culture, laughter, debates, videos And all sorts thanks to the many different satellites floating out in space. Everyone also enjoyed it for the use of downtime the most. Some had taken to enjoying Earth's entertainment platforms such as YouTube, Netflix and many other sights, others fell into more depraved sights such as Reddit, Twitter,Tumblr, Pornhub, interlink, Processed and other sights. 

Commlink: post Humans Aboard BLO freight.

BigBotNoStop: Alright mechs, I come bearing an inquiry. As you may have heard from some of my last posts, the newest additions to our crew are a thriving colony of soft, squishy humans. Word in the taproom is some have taken quite an interest in... extending cultural exchanges, if you catch my drift. Not really my field of experience and was hoping some of Xeno's here might have some input. 

Posted to Sublink: Human and cybertronian relationships?

But I'm curious, are interspecies acts even possible without harm? Their frames seem so fragile. One wrong motion and SPLAT! No more humans. quite a few members of our crew have shown interest in flirting... Thoughts? Suggestions for how to proceed with care- help a mech out!

Blazemech: Yo! You got fleshies on your ship! Fragging jealousy!. Your ship is looking for any dock workers?

TailOrTrails: Oh Primus, are we really having this discussion?? Look, I get the appeal of those soft little flesh bags. Really, I do - different wiring can be so freakin' hot. But there's no way a romp with one of those puny things ends well for them! Even accidentally bumping into a table puts them in the medbay. Think of the mess, One wrong thrust and you've got squish all over your plating.

ISOCLEAN: Just download some holofacing and use your imagination if you're that jonesing for an organic interface. Trust me, it's not worth the risk - or hassle of cleaning up after. sure you can find something from the Human sites on Mechanophilia, slutty Show and shine or Car Washes. Stay shiny and keep those servos to yourself, mechs! Some curiosities are better left to fantasies.

Flyboi69: Don't leave a mech hanging, I want deets!, has anybot here actually gotten friendly with a fleshie before? I'm talking about hands-on experience. We've all gotten curious watching, but has the real thing lived up to the fantasy? 

Pimptheride: Any tips for coaxing one into the berth, or does their tiny size mean you've got to take it slow and gentle? And most importantly... any videos out there of the deed? A mech's gotta do some, ah, research before taking the plunge. Hook a brother up if you've found any good amateur organic-on-mech action out there in the 'net. Gotta see it to believe it. 

ScienceSorcerer: For reasons. Does anyone know if humans have both Spikes and Valves? Or if they have any human anatomy holos or books and such from Earth they are willing to sell for some decent Shanix.  

T-Wrexz: Primus, you mechs are hungrier than fragging scraplets. As far as I know, relations between our kinds are still uncharted territory. Could be amazing, could end badly - who's to say until we try? Personally I'm keeping an optic out, just curious to see what new experiences those squishy aliens can offer us tough metal mechs. 

Bar-rizzla: Oho, look who's swapping tall tales. I've been keeping a close optic on our ships squishy company since they came aboard. And between you and me... I may have an in with their ambassador that could lead to some juicy first-hand intel. Just trying to track down the bot we think they are berthing with. Crews got bets out. Turns out they get just as curious about us big metal hunks as we are them!. The other night, their chat got particularly saucy after a few drinks. Lots of gossip and speculation about which lucky bot one of them might take for a private ride. 

WPHAS-Violation: I may have a certain special "human entertainment" vid I could share. Let's just say the organic in question got quite... friendly with an eager mini-con. You know where to find me if you're brave enough to watch! 

Tapemix54: Oho, mechs - think you've got it bad now? You should've seen some of the real deviants back before the war. When I was still stationed on Petrex, I knew this one smuggler - went by the name Rattler. Sneaky little scraplet, but Primus if he didn't have the wildest stories. Rattler used to run goods across time and space, dodging security at every turn. He'd pop up out of nowhere selling the rarest exotic "pets" to rich senators and other high caste mechs looking for a thrill. I'm talking aliens so bizarre even our data banks had never heard of their kind. But the highest bidder always walked away with a new "plaything" to break in, if you catch my drift. Word was Rattler even had a collection of sentient organics that he'd let special clients "test drive" between runs. Humans were apparently a favourite - their smaller frames could take all sorts of creative handling. Rattler had vids, too, of course, to entice buyers. I saw one once, let's just say "versatile" doesn't begin to cover it. Naturally the vids have all been scrubbed by now. But I bet if you knew where to dig in the deep web or some easily swayable Archivist, you might find traces of Rattler's stash still floating around out there.

 T-Wrexz: Whoa, whoa, slow your intake there tapemix! As much as I love a good far-fetched tale, I gotta call scrap on this one. Humans weren't even around back then, much less roaming the streets of Rodion as black market pets, I'm all for imagining exotic interface scenarios, but let's keep the stories at least somewhat rooted in known history, yeah?. Last I checked it was probably fabricated by Caminus cartels to make their actual goods seem tame. 

A few other mechs agree with T-Wrexz before a few kliks later a new post is put up. 

Post: 

"Old Iacon records saved of the Senator and his human Conjunx”

It's a file collection of holotapes and pictures: "Enjoy these are pre war photos of Senator Shockwave and his Human holding their sparkling" 

There are many holos and videos of the long gone senator smiling with his human perched on his shoulder, in the crystal garden with a young sparkling held in the human's arms. Videos of the sparkling playing with the two but the last The last holo looks like a family portrait with Shockwave’s frame in a lime green blue white paint with gold accessories,  his human lover is dressed in elegant robes and the small blue praxian sparkling held in their arms. Each holo is dated with the Iacon records seal of authentication. 

FlyBoi69: NO FREAKIN' WAY. Is this real?! *downloads files faster than Blurr* FRAG ME SIDEWAYS, I think I just popped a gasket! How in the PIT did you manage to dig up the holos of senator Shockwave, most of his speeches, debates and lectures were wiped. Where did you find this! 

Jackin0: of all mechs, with an actual human back in the Golden Age?!. I'm calling scrap on this being real. It's gotta be a flawless deepfake. By PRIMUS if true - to think ol' Shockers was living it up with a squishy. Maybe there's more to those Senatorial types than meets the optic...

T-Wrexz: Okay, I'll bite... but someone better explain to me RIGHT NOW how any of this computes! Last I checked, time travel and inter-species relationships were the stuff of erotic imagination, not legitimate pre-war archives. Tapemix, you better start talking. Where in the PIT did you source these files? How do we know they're authentic and not just an incredibly convincing parlour trick? Because if I'm gonna let these images ruin me, I wanna be ruined by the real deal! Spill it, mech. 

Iacon-Records: Tapemix54 could i please request where you discovered these as i work with Iacon records and this here is history that needs to be preserved. I'm willing to talk with you through a contractor if you would be willing for us to add these back into the new hall of records. Cybertron has lost so much and to find something like this I ask that we find a way to preserve it.  

BigBotNoStop: Pit take me now... I think I may have to reassess everything I thought I knew about interface and partnerships. That human is holding a sparkling curled around them - frag if it isn't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen! If anything could make me believe in miracles, it's this! Tapemix, you glorious glitch - how can I ever repay such an enlightening gift?

Tapemix54: These were filed only cycles after Shockwaves Emputra; they were added to the Iacon records by some Archivist under the title. 'I will Remember you for who you were'. This was right when the senate fell apart on the brink of the war. From my knowledge of information on Rattler he apparently had an outlier who he got to take them to different times since he was a shuttle made it easier to transport. That's from the  records that still exist at least. I'll take you up on that offer Iacon-records. 

________

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_____________

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[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (01/10)

The Proposal

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: with his last relationship ending in disaster and giving the college a lot to talk about, the most popular guy comes to you for help to save his reputation. but you never expected him to need to fake a relationship... with you.

word count: 4.8k

series masterlist • next part

AHHH GUYS I am so excited!

okey this is an unexpected idea, obviously I have been inspired by all the boys i loved before because recently i watch the three movies and i love the result of this and I have so much prepared for it that I'm so excited for you guys to read it already:)

I still have a bit more to work on but so far I'm loving it so I look forward to reading your opinions on it, for now enjoy a small part of everything to come! thank you for reading and for your support❣

also leaked everything I have planned a few moments ago but in spanish. I didn't even put the draft to post it, so I don't know what happened but it was my cue to finally share this hehe

"Y/N... I need your help."

That was the first thing someone said to you one Thursday morning in the library before your Science class started, this beginning a rather... peculiar day.

But you didn't expect those words to be said by Aemond Targaryen, the most popular guy in basically the whole school, to you, the most introverted girl in the class and probably not in the whole school since there are people even more introverted than you, but something like that.

So you slowly put your book down, raising your gaze to watch Aemond in front of you slightly confused and expectantly.

And the first thing you see is his eager and needy gaze in your direction, completely attentive to you. His hand grips the strap of his backpack and his gorgeous silver hair falls elegantly like a curtain down his back.

"Y-yes?"

"I'm..." he starts to tell you a little hesitantly, "I'm interrupting you with something?"

"Hum..." you look at your books scattered around the table for a moment, "I'm just... studying for the test on Monday."

"Oh," he nods absently, "Okay, listen, I don't want to stop you but this is really important and I need you to listen to me," he pleads quietly, looking really desperate, "The faster we talk, the faster I'll leave you alone and you can get back to studying."

And this is what gets your attention completely.

However, you continue to feel a mixture of mild surprise and confusion as it is unusual for him to address you or for you to talk to him despite being in the same classes.

You almost always find yourself in the corners, away from conversations and curious glances, although that doesn't mean that you are not participative and one of the best in your class, since you are always taking notes and concentrating on your studies.

You don't really talk to many people, only to people who are just as untalkative and quiet as you are.

And on the other hand, there is Aemond Targaryen, also a student just as dedicated as you and the best in the class, with the difference that he always occupies a place at the front of the classroom, always surrounded by friends and admirers.

He is the type of person that everyone notices and not only because of his unusual appearance, which in fact drives all the girls crazy, but also because of his charisma, personality and for being the captain of the lacrosse team.

And this is why despite being in the same classes, neither of you had ever had a reason to cross words before. You didn't even know that he knew your name, while everyone around you knows his.

"Okay..." you say not entirely convinced, "What is it?"

Aemond takes a deep breath of air, taking his gaze away from yours for a moment, looking a bit nervous and hesitant, which is very rare from him, as he has always proven to be a decisive and firm person for everything.

And in an act of nerves, he quickly takes a seat in front of you, still looking just as desperate as before.

"Look, I know we don't talk much even though we share classes..." he pauses a little, "Well, we don't really talk at all," he corrects himself, "And I also know you don't have any reason to... help me, but..." he sighs frustrated, "I really need your help."

You look expectant, waiting for him to tell you more, but apparently he himself doesn't know what it is he's going to ask you for help with, or rather he can't believe it, as he looks very nervous and can't find the right words to tell you.

So before asking the big question, he speaks again first.

"Do you know my ex-girlfriend? Alys Rivers?"

You raise your eyebrows at him a little, still expectantly, not understanding what that has to do with him asking for your help and you make your confusion clear for a moment, but still nod in his direction.

Because of course, how could you not know who Alys Rivers is?

She's like a more modern version of walking Regina George, with the other difference being that Alys is black hair.

"Ah... yeah."

"And I'm sure you must know what happened between me and her recently," he tells you cautiously and also a little expectantly.

"I think the whole school knows," you make it clear to him, in a soft tone.

"Yeah, of course, I just wanted to make sure," he tells you without further elaboration, "Anyway, I need your help with that."

You frown and look at him not entirely convinced.

"You want to talk about how your ex-girlfriend cheated on you?"

"No, no, not that, of course not," he hurries to say, "I need your help with her, with Alys," he clarifies but you're still just as confused.

"Aemond, you're not being entirely clea—

"I need you to fake a relationship with me."

He tells you bluntly, in an impulsive act to tell you once and for all before it becomes more difficult, causing you to become speechless and disbelief and surprise to flash in your eyes and gaze.

Suddenly your heart starts beating too fast, completely bewildered, waiting for him to tell you it's a joke.

However, the expression on his face makes it clear to you that he is not joking and that he is being terribly serious and honest about this, despite how absurd his words have sounded, making you feel only even more confused.

"I'm serious, Y/N. I'm really asking you this," he states to you, in a low voice, completely honest and desperate.

Again, surprise washes over you and a wave of insecurity washes over your entire insides, as you can't quite believe it and understand it.

"W-what?"

You almost whisper, even with all the disbelief in your gaze. And he lets out a sigh, bringing his hands to his head.

"Look, I know it sounds crazy and ridiculous, but... I really need to do this with someone," he says softly, pleadingly and quietly, "And not have anyone suspect, of course. This just to make Alys jealous and to stop me looking like a fool in front of the whole school after what she did."

You continue to stare at him incredulously, your lips parted and your brow furrowed, saying nothing for a few moments as Aemond in front of you begins to lose patience.

But he understands and knows what you must be thinking, it's the same thing he thought when he came up with this 'great' idea. He knew you would look at him the way you are looking at him now, like a madman.

"I'm sure it won't take us long, just enough time to convince the whole school and no more," he tries to convince you, insistent.

"But..." you say incredulously, "Do you realize what you're talking about?"

"Yes, I realize it. But it's not like it's the biggest crime or the biggest scam in the world either," he tells you absurdly.

Another silence.

You definitely didn't expect him to tell you all this and why he wants to. You understand his desperation since literally the whole school found out that Alys cheated on the hottest guy in the whole school with a college guy or something. And she along with him were the perfect couple of the moment.

So you understand that he's upset and humiliated, but he's willing to go to this length?

You are not on the same page as him.

"Please, Y/N," he begs you low and watching you completely intently.

"Hum..." you say beginning to feel uncomfortable, as you look away from him, "I-I'm sorry, but I'm sure someone else could help you, Ae—

"Please," he says desperately, "At least consider it."

"Aemond, this is literally the first conversation we've both had after sharing classes for almost three years," you tell him incredulously, trying to prove your point, "We don't talk to each other, we don't really know each other and for you to suddenly ask me for help with this..." you pause, then shrug, "I don't understand."

"It's not that hard to understand," he says still insistent, "And I get what you mean, but..." he lets out a sigh, "Look, I haven't asked anyone else for help, you're the first because I want you to be the one to do this with me—

"You don't need to try to make me feel special, you know? I-I don't—

"No, that's not why," he assures you, "In fact you're the only one who could help me, there's no one better," he explains, "I've been watching you lately, you're discreet, you hardly talk to anyone, basically no one notices you and this way, no one will expect it, not even Alys."

And even though he tried to explain himself in the best way without malice in his words and without referring to you in a bad way when explaining why you, you feel a slight sharp pain in your chest with confusion, sadness and resentment invading you.

"You don't need to explain who I am or what I'm like," you say in your low voice, avoiding looking him in the eye, trying to control your tone that conveys sadness but also seriousness, "Nor do you need me to be the resolution to your problems."

Aemond's gaze transforms to one of concern and distress, watching you completely intently.

"No, no, wait," he says instantly, his tone full of regret, "Fuck, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant, rea—

"Don't worry about it anymore," you reply with a nonchalant wave of your hand, keeping your gaze serious as you begin to put your things away.

"No, please, Y/N, wait," he pleads, trying to stop you, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to put you down or anything. I just wanted to explain—

"Look, I understand what you want to accomplish, but that doesn't justify using someone else, especially someone you barely know, to solve your own problems."

"Y/N, please. I'm sorry, just let me—

He tries to stop you, looking for an opportunity to clear the air, but you're already leaving.

"I can't help you," you interrupt him again in a final tone.

And without further ado you turn away from him, not caring that you've left the books on the table without returning them to the shelves. And even though he tries to stop you between apologies, you don't let him and walk away from him.

Of course, that wouldn't be the only time Aemond would try to talk to you.

After what happened in the library, no matter where you were, even being in the last empty halls on the top floor during lunchtime, Aemond would always find you to try to talk and apologize.

But you whenever you saw him approaching, you would always slip into another hallway or blend in among all the other students, looking for and finding any alternative to avoid talking to him.

But he kept trying.

And you didn't understand how you suddenly went from having your nose stuck in books all the time, to going from avoiding the hottest and most popular guy in the whole school.

Because you knew that not only would he try to apologize, he would also try to convince you again about his idea and right now you had too many things on your mind to worry about other people's needs.

So one day, taking advantage of the fact that you have a free class after lunchtime and you won't have to worry about Aemond for a while, you head to the schoolyard, choose a table, set up your laptop, open a folder and put on your headphones.

But it seems that things are not in your favor today.

You haven't even played your Spotify playlist when you see Aemond approaching in the distance from the lacrosse field.

You almost want to cry from frustration.

So without wasting any time, you stand up and quickly start putting your things away.

"Oh, come on Y/N," you hear his disappointed complaint in the distance and he starts trotting towards you.

You can't help but feel annoyed too, but before you can take a step, he gets there first.

"Would you stop stalking me, please?" you demand as you start to walk away.

"Please, just let me talk to you for a second," he pleads, stopping you gently but firmly.

"There's nothing even to talk about," you tell him earnestly and disinterestedly at the same time, trying to fend him off and move forward.

He again blocks your path.

"Please," he repeats, "I just want to apologize for the other day."

"We both know that's not what you really came here to say."

He lets out a long sigh as he looks away from you for a moment, then returns to watching you intently and with some concern.

And you wonder what he's doing here. He's wearing his lacrosse uniform so shouldn't he be training with his team or something?

"Look, I understand that you're upset....

He starts to say and you understand at that moment that he has no intention of going anywhere until he has finished talking to you.

"... but I need you to know that I'm really sorry I said those words to you. It wasn't what I really meant, it was cruel and I didn't realize it at the time."

You let out a long breath as you look away and press your lips together.

"It's okay, I understand," you look at him, "And I forgive you, if that's what you need to hear, fine, I forgave you. Now it's all forgotten and we can call it even."

Again, you try to dodge him to get away, but he steps in your way again, blocking your path.

"Wait," he asks, "Just wait," he repeats to you in his insistent voice, full of longing and concern evident on his face. "Can we talk, please?"

You shake your head as you bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your frustration mounting.

"I already told you I won't do it, Aemond."

"Have you at least considered it?" his tone becomes expectant and frustrated.

"Yes and it's an idea that makes no sense," you reply absurdly, interrupting him. "Or well, maybe to you it does, but—

"So that's it?" he interrupts you immediately, his gaze fixed on yours, "Do you want to benefit from this too if we do?"

You immediately shake your head in his direction, trying to deny any hint of that.

"No, that wasn't what—

"What do you want in return?" he interrupts again, his expression completely willing and attentive. "Tell me what it is you want to agree to pretend to be in a relationship with me."

Seven Hells.

You think as a frustrated sigh escapes your lips.

You feel trapped in an emotional interrogation, struggling to find the right words as you desperately search for a way out. His direct and persistent questions leave you blank for a moment.

"Listen, I can't and don't have time to help you with something like that."

He sighs, looking away from you for a moment.

"Okay," he says, moving to take a seat on the other side of the table you were sitting at earlier, "I'm listening," he watches you carefully.

You frown at his change in attitude.

"You hear me?" you repeat, confused.

"Yes, I hear you," he replies, looking at you expectantly, "Tell me why you can't and why you don't have the time."

"Don't you have training or something?"

"Yes, but it doesn't matter."

"You'll get into tro—

"It doesn't matter," he interrupts you, keeping his seriousness and attention, "So tell me, I'm listening."

He lets out an incredulous, absurd laugh.

"I don't have to explain myself with yo—

"The point here is that I don't believe you," he lets you know with determination, interrupting you again, "And if you don't tell me why, I'll keep insisting and bothering you until you tell me yes," he says with a slightly amused but determined look on his face.

You look at him slightly confused and surprised, not understanding what is wrong with him, also feeling a mixture of annoyance inside you and curiosity for his persistence.

"It doesn't matter, I'll still keep telling you no," you affirm as a final word to start walking away from him.

However, as soon as you advance a few steps, you feel how someone snatches the folder you are carrying with you quickly and abruptly, which stops you in your tracks. And you turn to him in surprise and confusion.

"Hey!" you protest, puzzled by his action.

"Uh, what do we have here?" he comments with a mischievous grin and a look full of amusement, getting up to turn away from you as he flips through the papers.

"That's none of your business!" you reproach him, running up to him and trying to retrieve your folder.

"Citadel University," he mentions with a tone of interest, running away from your attempts to catch up with him.

"Aemond!" you call, demanding that he give you back what is yours. But he continues to back away and read the sheets at the same time.

"Uh," he comments in concentration as he reads something specific, "This really is bad news."

"That's enough!" you yell at him, completely annoyed and frustrated, finally managing to snatch the folder from his hands and slam it shut.

The tension between the two of you increases as you hold the folder tightly and definitely start to pull away from him.

"No, no, okay, I'm sorry," he stops you instantly, grabbing your arm and stepping in front of you, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—

"Sure, you never meant to," you tell him half-heartedly, trying to dodge him but he won't let you.

"Okay, fine, I was an idiot, I know. But—hey, listen please."

"Are you going to leave me alone or not?" you inquire annoyed, releasing yourself from his grip, watching him expectantly.

He lets out a sigh.

"Y/N—

"I don't have time for this. I have to go."

"But—wait!" he urges you, also on the verge of tears from frustration as you dodge him but he again steps back in front of you, stopping you, "Could you just—listen to me, please."

"No."

"Please!" he insists, "Y/N, I-I... fuck," he lets out a sigh, looking away from yours for a moment, "I'm really sorry," he tells you sincerely, "But let me talk to you. You won't have to do anything but listen to me," he implores, "And after this, if you still want me to stop bothering you and leave you alone, I will."

You watch him completely intently, assessing his words and noting the desperation reflected in his gaze. And even though your mind tells you to forget him and get away from him and this whole situation, something inside you makes you hesitate.

You let out a long, deep breath, telling yourself that you just have to give him a chance to talk and you can finally walk away without feeling remorse.

"Okay, but make it quick," you agree reservedly, keeping your distance.

And even though you're still firm about continuing to tell him no and feel annoyed about earlier, you're curious what he has to say.

"Hum... do you want to sit?"

He points to the table you were sitting at earlier with an awkward and strange gesture. You're about to tell him no but not wanting to argue again, so this will end quickly, you resignedly take a seat and he instantly follows you.

He takes a seat in front of you and you continue with all your belongings in your lap, not trusting to leave them on the table within his reach because of earlier, feeling a knot in your stomach and a slight ache in your chest as you briefly glance at the folder he was snooping through earlier.

"I won't take up too much of your time, I just want to get back to what we were talking about earlier," he tells you softly and with some caution, taking a moment before speaking again, "You want something in return for agreeing to fake the relationship with me?"

You let out a long sigh.

"No, I don't want anything, Aemond. There is nothing I want that you can give me in return," you clarify in a firm tone, "I don't even have the time to do that. I have other important things to take care of instead of.... that."

He exhales, starting to look just as frustrated as you do.

"Like what?" he dares to ask.

"None of your business," you reply immediately.

He looks away from your gaze for a moment, feeling more frustration, swallowing hard and looking hesitant for a moment, but still determined, not wanting this conversation to end before he can try.

"It has to do with the Citadel thing?"

The mention of the college you fought so hard to gain access to makes you feel that sharp pain in your chest again, making your heart flip.

Sadness, disappointment, all those emotions come flooding back just like the first time you read that rejection letter from the college. All your effort, all your performance, was simply not enough for the university to recognize.

The college of your dreams.

"I told you that's none of your business," you act instantly serious and defensive.

"I don't mean to intrude, Y/N—

"That's exactly what you're doing," you point out incredulously.

"You applied for a scholarship and didn't get it, didn't you?" yet you still dare to say, taking a risk, "That's what I read."

"And you shouldn't have," you say firmly, trying to hide the sadness and disappointment his words have triggered in you, "You have no right to go through my personal business."

"I know and I'm sorry, but—

He begins to try to say, but you interrupt him, determined to end the conversation.

"That's what you were going to say?" you tell him, starting to get up with all your things to leave, "If that's all, I'll just go—

"You haven't really let me talk," he interrupts you, insistent, "I can offer you something in return and worth considering to get you to accept the fake relationship with me. But only if you stay and listen to me—

"Oh please, Aemond," you interrupt him in disbelief, sensing the absurdity of the situation, "You know what? Okay, let me hear it," you say with sarcasm in your tone and an expectant look, "Tell me what you could offer me in return that would be worth considering," you add wryly.

"I can help you with your college application," Aemond hastens to say.

Surprise invades everything inside you, listening attentively to his unexpected proposal, definitely not expecting to hear that.

You remain completely silent, just watching him intently, while he gives you a firm and sincere look back. You have no idea what to say, feeling how suddenly your heart starts beating too hard.

"I have connections there, my grandfather and my sister," he lets you know, "I can send them all your information, personal recommendations, all your academic history and have them give you a place with the scholarship you wanted," he tells you and the surprise grows more inside you, "Graduation is near, I can facilitate the whole process for you and I am willing to do it if you help me."

Again, you say nothing.

But the surprise is more than evident on your face.

Their offer, this, really is too much, to the point that your mind starts to be a whirlwind of emotions and you begin to feel distrust, uncertainty and inner conflict.

But on the one hand, his offer is tempting. The idea of getting help from him to get a place in the college you so long for definitely catches your attention, but it also makes you feel a little uncomfortable.

Honestly his words stir something in you, but caution prevails.

The desire to get a place in that university is basically a dream come true, but it clashes with your principles and at the same time you think ahead with lingering doubt whether not accepting was a grave mistake.

Although... are you really able to say no to this? Your dream? To the university that will give you the opportunity to offer a better quality of life for you and your father?

Certainly, Aemond's words are not something you would have believed from anyone else. You would have laughed too hard at the big lie since it is basically impossible to get a place at a high-demand university like Citadel.

But you admit that Aemond Targaryen is not just any person.

Everyone knows that his father owns the most important company in the whole country. And his mother's surname is linked to and owns the influential Hightower banks. The combination of both surnames carries with it a network of influential contacts and connections, so you believe him.

The reality is undeniable; Aemond is exaggeratedly rich, his whole family is, so knowing all this basically gives you to understand that he can undoubtedly secure a place at Citadel University for himself and, apparently, for you as well.

But the hesitation you still feel stops you, still thinking carefully about his proposal.

"So what you want in return is just that?" you ask him wanting to be all clear, "To agree to pretend a relationship with you?"

Your voice reveals a hint of disbelief as you stare at Aemond, waiting for a more detailed explanation. The idea that this all revolves around a farce of a relationship never ceases to generate confusion in you.

The simplicity of his request sounds almost surreal, and makes you question his true intentions.

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but yes, that's all I'm asking, Y/N," he replies without hesitation, his tone serious and direct.

His intense blue eye remains fixed on yours, as you give yourself a small second simply out of curiosity to appreciate his prosthetic left eye up close, an accident as a child or something you heard.

But your mind returns to his request immediately, still feeling the mixture of uncertainty and curiosity. An awkward pause settles between the two of you as you finally break the silence with a doubt-laden sigh.

"But, why me?" you can't help but ask, "I mean, why offer this to me, something really important and big to agree to help you," you explain your point, "I know you said that with me it will be easier but.... there are other girls who could help you with this, or not?"

Aemond adjusts slightly in his seat, sighing as he searches for the right words.

"I misspoke about you at first. It wasn't what I really meant about no one noticing you, you're invisible and all that shit, because it's not true," he tells you softly, "You are different and definitely calmer than other girls who I know will tell me yes without hesitation, but I'm not looking for that, I need someone genuine, someone I can trust to make this work and someone who won't get too excited."

His answer seems sincere, you know he really is sincere, but you still feel the knot in your stomach.

Accepting to help him would mean immersing yourself in a world that you never had any interest in fitting into and that most of the time you've been trying to keep your distance from.

You don't care about having a lot of friends, having followers on social media, being popular, being the prettiest and getting attention from guys. You also wouldn't want to be looked at and given too much attention just for dating Aemond Targaryen, if you accept.

But would you really be proud enough not to accept so you wouldn't have to do all that, letting go of the chance to get into Citadel University?

A shiver runs down your spine as you consider the implications of accepting his proposal and after a brief pause, you let out a sigh and finally nod your head as you swallow hard to speak nervously and with determination.

"All right. Let's do it."

The surprise and disbelief is completely reflected in Aemond's gaze to then quickly rise from his seat and take a couple of steps towards you, completely delusional.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes but don't make me regret it."

And then his whole face transforms, with relief reflecting in his gaze and... strangely, letting go of that worry that has invaded him for days now, also stress along with frustration and a weight on his shoulders.

"Thank you. You don't know how much I appreciated it. And this will be over sooner than you think, I promise."

A wave of uncertainty washes over you as you wonder if you have made the right decision. He seems satisfied with your answer, but deep down a trace of doubt clings in your mind along with the echo of consequences that resonates eerily.

You wonder how others are going to view you seeing you very soon at Aemond's side and whether it will drastically change your school life, which is irrelevant, but in their world, absolutely everything matters.

"So, what's next?" you ask, really unable to believe you've agreed.

Aemond straightens up completely, watching you attentively and with that readiness in his gaze, there is also a certainty that you do not possess, as you actually feel very small before the whole show you will put on together with him and it hasn't even started.

"First of all, a contract."

[shytastemakerthing]

I would like to request a Albino! Reader with Pomefiore version if you dont mind!! I really love your writing very much🥀🦇🦇

A/N: And the albino!reader series continues! I will admit, I had a lot of fun with this dorm, especially with Vil's part, I can only imagine how this man would react to our lovely albino!reader. Enjoy!

Tw: None

Request: Pomefiore with Albino!Reader

Headers and dividers made by @blueberry-pride and @cafekitsune

The first time that this beautiful man saw you, he quite literally had to pause in his steps

Granted, he had seen you from behind

You were sitting on a bench in the courtyard underneath a tree, a parasol over your head and a book in your hand

The first thing he saw was your hair that he swore was brighter than the snow that would fall in the winter

You wore quite a bit of layers but in such a way that they complimented each other, and yourself, rather beautifully

Having made his way over, and finally being able to see your face, he saw more to the reason for your state of dress, rather than being rather fashionable and protecting yourself from the sun, that is

You were albino

Now, you were not the first person who he had seen with the condition, but you were certainly the closest that he has ever been, and in his opinion, rather the most beautiful

It is what led to where you both were now, several weeks later, and inside the comfort of his room

He has just returned from Film studies and you had met up with him just outside of the Pomefiore mirror

The sun was setting, casting a rather beautiful glow, mostly on yourself that made you look quite literally golden, a color he thought looked beautiful on you

He was helping you with your skin care for the night. After many talk, you were both able to find the best routine for you, and it has become a favorite part of your evenings

Would you like to accompany him to his next modeling shoot? He wouldn't mind sharing the spotlight if it was with you

Let's be honest, this man already knew of both you and your albinism, he knows pretty much everything at this point

Became quite the expert on albinism as well, no matter the severity, but paid closer attention to your specific type

Now, Rook is a very outdoorsy person and as much as he would love for you to join him, he knows that with your albinism, that makes things a bit more difficult

It was how you both met after all

Rook has just been returning from the latest Science Club meeting to see you underneath a tree trying to mend your broken parasol

It didn't take a genius to find out why you were shielding yourself from the sun

And much like the gentleman that he is, offered his assistance

Walking you back to Pomefiore dorm, after you agreed to spend some time with him, his hat on your head, his jacket over your shoulders

In his words, everything was history after that

You often went with him outside on days that were more cloudy where you would not have to worry about the sun as often

And on days where the sun was bright and shining, you would go with him for club activities, or join him in Pomefoire, he was happy either way, so long as he was able to spend time with you

His family has a home further north away from the heat and the sun isn't as bright. Perhaps you would like to join him there this summer?

Another boy who spent much of his life outside working on an orchard in Harveston

The upside to this, it wasn't as hot being that far up and in the mountains, which would make it a perfect place to visit

He had met you after magic shift practice after you had finished your own club activities and at first, thought you were much like Vil in not wanting to damage your skin with the sun

And in a way, he was right

But you had a very different reason

And after hearing how the sun can actually cause severe damage to your skin and eyes, due to your albinism, and how heat wasn't the best thing for you, he did feel a bit bad at first for the thought that you were like Vil, but kicked into gear in offering to help you back to your dorm

He offered his jacket as he used it to shield your shoulders and back from the sun

Rook saw this and reported back to Vil, given Epel hadn't shown up for his lessons...... Vil let it slide

After helping you back to your dorm, he certainly was very much like a charming country boy, seeing how his natural accent made you smile all cute like that

Several weeks later and you were underneath a shaded section of the bleachers, cheering Epel on, wearing one of his shirts during a magic shift game

His dorm members and fellow players saw that day just how intense he could be in a match and the players are inviting you back for every game

Wanna join him for winter break in Harveston? It would be perfect for you there.....and he's already told his grandmother so much...

Thank you for your request! Have a wonderful day/night!

[radioactivesweet]

Ok hear me out, what about moon god s/o x Poseidon, its been itching my mind cause of the sea x moon troupe.

What i imagine is, s/o being a powerful god like nyx but rarely appears so only a few gods know or saw them so Poseidon became curious about this mysterious (beautiful) god. Feel free to add more about this!! im just really craving for someone to write this 🥹

Uhhh I like this concept a lot!! I tried to keep the reader's gender kinda neutral, I hope it's fine^^ btw I really enjoyed writing this!

word count: 1.2k

Poseidon often found himself staring at the moon. He couldn't really explain why he would do that - not that anybody would dare asking the God of the Sea what he was doing. Unbothered, Poseidon would stand silenty on the ivory balcony, looking up to that apparently endless sky. Even for someone like him that domain appeared far and full of mystery.

It was a dark night, its only beam being the peaceful and perlescent light emanated by the sleeping moon. He was once told that a god inhabited the moon, far from all other living beings. It wasn't known the reason why the deity ended up there, observing humankind from the satellite. Some believed they refused to get involved with human affairs and chose to live as a hermit instead; others claimed the god was exiled and was cursed to live on their own, bound to live in loneliness; some believed that god to have died long ago, the moonlight being their only inheritance, the memento of a god who existed no more, the reminder of a otherwise forgotten past.

Poseidon, everytime he would look at the moon, would wonder the real story behind it. None of the moon goddesses he knew could give him a response, despite asking themselves the same question - with whom were they sharing their moon? A god, a ghost or nothing at all?

Not knowing made the God of the Sea restless. He wasn't supposed to be this ignorant - it was his duty and right to know the truth. Yet, all he knew didn't make sense to him at all. He couldn't find a reason why a god would choose to abandon their place a seek shelter on the moon; if a deity was trapped on the moon, he would have surely heard of it somehow. It wouldn't have been just a rumour; lastly, gods weren't meant to die, it wasn't their nature. They didn't have an expire date nor any time limits, so it was impossible to begin with. If there really were someone looking down on him from the moon, Poseidon would discover it.

Poseidon spent that whole night reading books and looking for information regarding the legends surrounding that mysterious and mystical figure. There weren't many references and he couldn't even find the name of that god, yet there were reported some events which most likely involved them. A beautiful deity whose melancholic face was reflected on the moon on certain nights, someone wearing a silvery armor while riding a shining chariot across the sky. Also, a powerful god who could conceal the sun and the earth. A god capable of moving the stars and making humans into constellations. A god who could flex the tides to their own amusement - which meant disturbing the God of the Sea too - the moon phases and the sea had always been strictly connected to one another, but the thought of someone directly interefering had never crossed his mind. An ancient deity whose name had been long forgotten and all traces canceled, no statues nor temples left, their believers long dead and turned to ashes.

Poseidon was intrigued to say the least. He couldn't recall even if tried the last time he had felt so interested in someone - maybe last time was when he recognised Hades as his brother thousands of years before? He didn't remember anymore, and it didn't really matter to him neither.

Rumours spreaded fast across the Heavens. It was a matter of days before everybody knew what the lonesome Poseidon was looking for, yet nobody dared approaching him nor suggesting him the information that could have helped him reach his objective. Yet, everybody was curious as to why he was interested in that legend in the first place. Poseidon was used to those lower deities' gossips, so he didn't pay them much care, they were nothing more than a bother and wasn't expecting them to act some other way. He was more interested in what certain gods had to say.

Zeus, despite his prestige, knew no more than him but reccomended talking with the goddess Nyx, whom he was afraid of, much more ancient than he was. Hades and Hermes agreed with Zeus and added some rumours that had been circulating for ages in the Underworld regarding a moon deity who lead the souls of the dead to Hades' domain. Beelzebub clearly remembered studying moon's phenoma and seeing that legendary face. They didn't ask him the reason why he was looking for the god. He wouldn't have answered anyway. Without a single word, he left, approaching his next destination, the goddess all gods feared: Nyx.

He respected the goddess, recognising her value and strenght, but didn't understand the reason why even the almighty Zeus feared - he could only suppose it must have been because of one of his many affairs that didn't end the way Zeus imagined. Poseidon didn't have anything to do with that though, therefore had no reason to fear her.

Nyx knew it all, the story of the human who ascended to the skies and then flew even higher above. That god's name was (Y/n), the vagabond of the stars, the hermit who found a home in the dim light of the moon. Poseidon was satisfied by the answers he had finally found - and a way to reach the moon itself. He was close to his goal.

He had finally landed on the moon. Poseidon had never been there before. It was the first time he got to see the sea he ruled from that perspective. It was a foreign feeling to him. He could almost understand the reason why humans tried so hard to leave Earth and reach the space - it was undescribable. He couldn't even blame (Y/n) for hiding in that timeless place. Poseidon felt as he could touch the stars if he only wanted to. And he was just about to do it, if only a sudden voice hadn't interrupted him.

"I've heard someone was looking for me. I don't receive many guests, so I suppose you must be that person." it was quite, almost a whisper. It didn't surprise Poseidon. (T/n) mustn't have had someone to talk to in a long time.

"You are Poseidon, aren't you? You often stare at the moon, I noticed it." a voice comparable to the music of the spheres, the musica universalis, the harmony between the celestial bodies.

(Y/n) seemed to have no material consistence, one with the stars and the deep blue sky surround them, floating on the ground, detached from the earthly beings. Poseidon almost felt unworthy of being before someone surrounded by such a, otherwordly aura, belonging to a different dimension. On the other hand, he was attracted by that holy creature.

"You are welcome here, God of the Seas." almost as if they had read his mind, (Y/n) reassured him "We all belong to the moon, all beings are made of the same stardust. There are no differences between us."

For once, Poseidon, enchanted and bewitched, couldn't reply. He was part of that symphony too - he could feel it resonating deep into his bones.

The everlasting sea below him, the everlasting stars above him. Poseidon felt whole for the first time in his equally everlasting life.

[the-travelling-witch]

summary: i'm back on my "'i have more knowledge on x topic than all your advisers together, i just couldn’t progress through the ranks for one reason or another, so you should definitely make me your concubine, so i can gossip about your minister of finance’s stupid proposal while wearing expensive shit and fine dining and then we slowly fall in love' royal au" bs again, so have some rambles because there are a lot of possible constellations here

characters: shouto :: kenma :: inui/koko :: al-haitham/kaveh x gn! reader

general masterlist

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐎

You could practically feel the daggers being glared into your skull. This entire meeting so far, the prince’s closest adviser had narrowed his eyes at you, a gesture which you only returned with a coy smile.

Really, just because it wasn’t common for a royal concubine to attend a meeting concerning safety measures at the upcoming masquerade ball, there was no need for such hostility.

Then again, maybe the adviser was so foul-tempered because of the physical position you found yourself in. But it wasn’t your fault they hadn’t prepared another seat for you or that Shouto was notoriously unbothered with social etiquette. So, if the prince ordered his concubine to sit on his lap instead, who were you to argue?

You doubted he glared at you because he was aware you had been investigating him or that you knew he and his fellow spies were planning an assassination attempt on the royal whose arm was currently lazily curled around your waist.

Surely, “concubine” was not exactly the title you had had in mind when agreeing to work as an intelligence agent on the Todoroki court but considering the former crown prince Touya had basically gone up in smoke after an attempt on his life, placing yourself right next to the prince where an enemy wouldn’t expect might not be a bad idea.

Besides, since you had taken the prince up on his offer, you had been able to enjoy many luxuries you could previously not even dream of. Delicacies practically melted on your tongue, the material of your clothes was of a quality so fine it was like dressing in air and the library held rare books you normally couldn’t get your hands on just like that.

You also had to admit, pretending to be Shouto’s lover wasn’t exactly torture either. Not only was he as handsome as they come but he was also very well-mannered towards you even in private. The clumsy side only few got to see when he let his guard down was also quite adorable.

So, to say you were quite comfortable where you were and had no intention of giving up your spot any time soon was an understatement.

“Your Highness is it really necessary to bring,” the adviser paused momentarily as he gestured at you, “this person to a meeting such as this? How can we be sure they are not working for an opposing kingdom, relaying our security measures to the enemy?”

You caught yourself before a snort escaped you. Seriously, how was nobody onto this guy before you came around?

“I have no doubt about their loyalty to me and the kingdom,” Shouto said, tone even as always, yet his hand around your waist tightened. “Besides, their safety might be compromised just like mine, so this information should be shared with them as well.”

“That’s right,” you goated, a sharp grin on your lips as you reached backwards over your shoulder to run your fingers down Shouto‘s neck as you held eye contact with the adviser. “I’ve shown my devotion to the prince in ways you never could.”

Soon you’d watch the light drain from his eyes as you ended his miserable life but for now you’d find amusement in how they widened in indignation.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀

“Your Highness! I must ask you to stay in the medic’s quarters!” Said medic was fussing around you as you pulled the outer layer of your clothes back on. “I dressed the wound and used a minor healing spell but you need to rest! A-and your medicine—“

“I can rest in my quarters too,” you sighed, already halfway out of the door. “Someone will come pick up the treatment later.”

The medic was still stammering long after you already set out towards your room, trying not to put too much pressure on your side. You didn’t think it’d be that big of a deal but apparently the monster’s claws that had grazed your skin were laced in some sort of venom, the pain of which left you wheezing when you received another blow to the stomach.

Half stumbling, half falling into your room, you reckoned whatever spell the medic had cast hadn’t done much to rid your body of the poison, especially if you remembered how he had floundered once you first drudged into the infirmary. No wonder you had gone behind your parents’ backs to employ someone who actually understood his craft.

“Whoa what happened to you?” Kenma lifted his head from his magic-driven game board at the sound of the door opening. His sharp amber eyes studied you from head to toe, taking in the ripped clothes and collection of bruises and scratches. “You look like death chewed you up and spit you back out.”

“Thanks,” you retorted just as sarcastically, working to rid yourself of the rest of your armour, wincing when you strained the area around your ribs. “Must be the poison.”

“Poison?” Immediately, Kenma had perked up, already rounding the table, his game forgotten. “What poison? And where? And why didn’t you lead with that?”

Usually, the guy tried to make himself as small as possible, hoping to blend into the background. But whenever you dragged in yet another weird and wonderful ailment from out in the wild, your shy healer found himself in the habit of becoming a little bossy. Other royals might take offence if their concubines used that kind of tone but you had to admit you didn’t really mind.

“Well, it’s not like you gave me much of a chance to explain,” you laughed, pulling your shirt off and letting it pile up with the rest of your things, then wriggled your eyebrows at the blond. “So, where do you want me?”

“You are the worst, even when you’re dying,” Kenma rolled his eyes before a warm hand settled on your bare back and nudged you towards the bed. “For now, just lie down. And tell me exactly what the hell happened to you.”

Without any resistance, you settled down and watched as Kenma got to work. It was fascinating each time, even if you didn’t understand much of it and you were the one having to be treated. Whenever he focused on something, he adopted this no-nonsense expression, lips tightened into a line and eyebrows drawn together. You didn’t even want to start thinking about the way your skin tingled where his fingers touched you, well aware that the reason for it wasn’t the magic Kenma used.

“I told the doc someone would pick up my medicine later,” you spoke up once your healer had finished his work and both of you were just lingering within the same space.

As always when you told Kenma something he didn’t want to hear, he made one of the most expressive faces of disgust a human could muster.

“I’ll make sure to trip on the way,” he shrugged and you were aware he might actually do it too. “I didn’t spend all this time healing you just so that idiot can poison you again with whatever concoction he came up with this time.”

“Just what would I do without you?” Brushing a stray strand of hair out of his eyes, you didn’t miss how Kenma, the guy who used to flinch at people coming near him, leaned slightly into your touch.

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐈 / 𝐊𝐎𝐊𝐎

The golden light of the sinking sun illuminated the balcony as birds chirped their last songs of the day. In the midst of the flowers blooming across the railing and the castle walls, three people sat around a table filled with fruits, cheese and many other delicious foods, eating and laughing together.

“But to come back to your Minister of Finance’s proposal,” Koko, who seemingly hadn’t taken his eyes off the kingdom’s budget sheet, spoke up. Splitting off a few of the coins from the stack in front of him to visualise the share he was thinking about, he offered his insight. “I think we should use a cut of the newly allocated funds to strengthen the army’s equipment. The knights could do with new armour, especially considering the neighbouring kingdom has been less than friendly lately.”

“What new funds are we talking about?” You inquired, not having been privy to the meeting prior this day. 

“The party we sent out recently was more successful than we expected them to be,” Inui clued you in with a small smile as he studied what Koko proposed.

“Ah, the expedition that was my idea and that I equipped with the right tools. In that case,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eyes, before you made the stack of coins levitate over your outstretched palm, “I think we should use it to build a magic tower. It would help more with defence than equipping the knights, considering what fun things I could do with one.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Koko scolded, reaching over the table to snatch the coins back. “How should we justify the King’s concubine wishing for a magic tower?”

While you shrugged, Seishu took your hand and answered much gentler than the black haired man. 

“I have to agree with Koko. Not because I doubt you could do a lot of great things with such a tower but because we already had a lot of trouble explaining why the lightning only struck the enemy’s side in the last battle,” he sighed, giving you an understanding look he knew had you giving in already. “The public doesn’t know we have a magic user on our side and word of construction would spread fast. Don’t forget why you went into hiding in the first place.”

“Yeah yeah, I understand, no magic tower. But, how about,” you leant back in your chair, tossing a coin you had hidden up your sleeve before Koko could retrieve it, “one or the other magic tome? Nobody would even notice. Just say it’s for a new necklace or whatever else concubines usually get.”

“Are you suggesting we commit fraud?” Koko levelled his accusatory gaze at you.

“I don’t know, am I?” You innocently asked, batting your eyelashes at him. “It would be for the good of the people, after all.”

“How is you getting a new toy good for the people?”

“I could make the grains grow faster or whatever the people usually pray for,” you shrugged. “I’m at least granting their wishes.”

“I thought you were interested in necromancy recently,” Seishu laughed knowingly. “I’m no expert in the field but how is that helping with making the crops grow?”

“I’m sure a walking dead body or two would scare off the crows,” you said as seriously as you could. “It might also scare off thieves, now that I think about it.”

Koko just looked at you, horrified, while Seishu laughed at your nonchalance. When the former regained his senses, he reprimanded you again. 

“We are not using tax money, so you can experiment with the undead and unleash them on the public!”

“Eh, it was worth a try,” you relented before popping another grape in your mouth.

𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌 / 𝐊𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐇

You were well aware of the whispers that filled the halls of the castle when you weren’t present. 

Kaveh was probably a more conventional concubine to take, considering his innate kindness and striking beauty. Clearly, when he waltzed into the room beside you, it was like the sun was rising before everyone’s eyes. Yeah, he was probably an expected choice.

Al-Haitham, on the other hand…

It wasn’t exactly his physique which raised people’s questions. Moreso it was his gruff temper and apparent boredom with most topics, burying his nose in a book and brushing people off with less than a single word at times, that made your staff shake their heads at your appointment.

Not that it mattered much what other people thought.

What did matter, however, was that your country’s infrastructure had improved significantly since you made your peculiar choice of companions. After most critical meetings concerning upcoming construction, your subordinates believed your return to your chambers meant you just had to relieve some pent-up stress. Yet, those “steamy” nights were spent hunched over maps and graphs of your nation, pointing out the flaws in your advisers’ proposals and redoing blueprints of planned buildings.

Perhaps nobody else in the castle was aware of it, but Al- Haitham and Kaveh were a genius strategist and brilliant architect respectively, responsible for the projects the public praised you most for. And that had been the nature of your relationship in the beginning. They patched out your advisers’ proposals and you made sure they were compensated accordingly, unconventional as the methods may be.

Though, you supposed, after working together for a while, the titles you had given them may not be so wrong anymore. Long nights spent agonising over the ideal location for a new project had turned into quiet evenings lounging around your quarters, enjoying fine wine and lingering touches. Having the two around had become a great sense of comfort to you and running into them between meetings and stacks of paperworks waiting for you made a spark of fondness flutter in your chest.

However, running into both of them at the same time also meant the unlikely pair were probably bickering. This time, you could actually hear them before you rounded the corner.

“I’m telling you, if we use this type of wood-”

“It would rot under the environmental influences faster than you could complete construction.”

“Why, you…!”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you exhaled ready to calm down the situation somehow. Then, you came face to face with them and had an entirely new idea on how to mediate. Haitham had his arms crossed as he regarded the blond with an unimpressed expression, the pose accentuating the way his biceps and triceps flexed. With Kaveh turned away from you, you had a clear view of his back, as always exposed by the flowy robes he wore.

Sure, they might not be the most usual concubines you could’ve chosen, but that didn’t matter.

“Strategy meeting in my quarters, now. Royal orders.”

© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit; do not copy into an ai

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

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i think @ryuryuryuyurboat was interested in the idea? have some incoherent rambles then jsjsh

[fallingdownhell]

If polyamory relationship requests are A-OK with you, could I request Al-Haitham and Kaveh with a reader that acts as a mediator between the two.

She's a woman who, despite her soft-spoken and sweet nature, is also rather sharp-tongued and witty when she's in an argument with someone. No matter how many squabbles those two get into, she's always there to settle things.

Many find it odd that two brilliant men like Al-Haitham and Kaveh would want to be someone like reader. Sure, she's got a pretty face but that's it. She's not an Akademiya scholar, or even some genius (in eyes of shallow people at least). She is but an ordinary fish farmer who uses her Hydro vision to cultivate and harvest her aquatic animals.

If only they knew about the love and care these three share (hey that rhymed) with each other.

I hope this turned out okay. I personally don't have any experience with poly relationships, so I hope I did somewhat good with it. Pairing: Alhaitham x Reader x Kaveh Content: female reader (she/her pronouns); polyamory relationship; established relationship; fluff; general relationship headcanons Word count: 830 words Enjoy guys<3

the first impression anyone would get when they'd see the three of you interaction with each other, would often be one of two things

they either think you guys are siblings, or just really, really old friends that go way back together

and they'd be right, at least about the friend aspect

because that's actually how this whole dynamic started out several years ago

you've known Kaveh and Alhaitham for almost half your life now, and as far as you remember, those two have always bickered and you have always been in the middle of it, trying to appease them every time

somewhere along the way, feelings came into the mix as well. If asked now, you couldn't tell who caught feelings for who first, though a certain blonde would still vehemently deny any sort of feelings for his roommate

but behind closed doors, when you're all in the private of your shared home, things tend to be different

to the public eye, it's you who keeps the relationship together. Regulated, if you would. You constantly break up the sassy bickering between Kaveh and Alhaitham, being the voice of reason in any argument

you help Alhaitham with organizing his work papers, sort his books at home, you remind him to eat and drink when he's too focused on a new book again that he forgets to do those tasks himself

with Kaveh, you help him keep track of his approaching deadlines with clients, help him find inspiration for a new project and always lend a listening ear when he needs to vent his frustrations to someone, especially when they involve his nosy roommate again

and in return, the boys support you in your line of work as well. Your job may not be the most noble or important one, but you enjoy doing it, and that's all they need to know in order to support you

they come up with new ways to implement your hydro vision with you, making your job easier for you further and further. Alhaitham tends to do some research on the types of fish you plan on cultivating while Kaveh enjoys to decorate the fish tanks according to their desires on habitats

it's always been a mutual give and take in this relationship, a silent agreement, if you will, that they will always support each other in their doings, even if one or two mean comments will be thrown out there alongside it

if asked what their favourite thing about you is..

Alhaitham's answer is very quick to come, almost like he had only waited for the day someone would ask him that question. He enjoys the way you get passionate about the things you love and enjoy. Even if he's not the most knowledgeable in a certain subject, he can and will listen to you rambling on for hours on end about it, simply because of the way your eyes light up when you get to talk about it

Kaveh says that he likes a lot of things about you, but if he had to choose, then it would be your easygoing, patient nature. No matter how much stress he's currently under, you always have a way to calm him down, make him destress so he can think clearly and logically again. Suddenly, the impending deadline doesn't seem so bad anymore and he's got a clear head again. He could kiss you every time again when you do that, it helps him out so much!

Oh, but don't be mistaken. Just because you're usually calm and relaxed doesn't mean you can't get feisty. Especially when dealing with rather rude people, you tend to loose your temper on them from time to time. Those are the moments where the boys need to let you vent to them, if they want to avoid an incoming hospital bill because you decided to finally act on some of the threats that leave your mouth while in such a pissed off state

when it comes to affection, you and Kaveh are definitely the most cuddly and affectionate within the relationship

Alhaitham often acts annoyed when one of you (or both) asks for cuddles, but he never refuses, either. Most of the time, it's him in the middle of the bed, you and Kaveh plastered on one side of him, cuddling up against him like this

and the scholar doesn't admit it out loud, but he does rather enjoy those cuddle sessions, enjoying the warmth and embrace of the two people he values most in this life

overall, communication is key in this relationship. It happened one too many times that a comment has been taken too far, hurting the feelings of the other too much, so there are now certain rules in place to prevent something like this from happening again

but despite all that, the love you share between you all is clear as day, even to the public eye. They just choose not to comment on it, for their own sakes

[redlittlefoxari]

Astarion Epilogue An Adventure in Making Life: Chapter Ten: Little White Dress

Relationship: Astarion X Tav

Warnings: NSFW 18+, smut, blood, violence, sex, blood drinking, pregnancy.

Summary: All hell breaks lose as Tav and Astarion share with the rest of the party that you are expecting.

~~~~This Chapter contains Smut~~~~

Master List

People who wished to be tagged: @ofmyth-andmagicart @lunaredgrave @littlekidsteve @omnia--mea-mecum-porto @ayselluna @myreadingmanga123 @kismet-of-the-divine @nicalysm @justlilpeaches21

If you want to be tagged in future updates, send me a message.

Twelve weeks pregnant

“I knew it! I knew something was up with the two of you!” Shadowheart was practically out of her seat as she spoke. “I just didn’t know it was his. I thought the two of you just got a segregate or something.” 

“We're going to be an aunt and Uncle Wyll, isn’t it amazing!” Karlach released the hold she had on herself and let her excitement spring free. Shaking Wyll like he was a rag doll. 

“Yes, that is amazing, Karlach dear, but could you stop shaking me? I fear I’m going to be sick.” At his words, Karlach stopped shaking him, and he placed one hand on the table and one on his stomach to try and stop the room from spinning. 

“That…That’s amazing, you two.” Gale looked positively shocked. “I just have a few questions, if you don’t mind.” The others nodded in unison. 

After what seemed like hours of being questioned by your friends, the food was finally served. Gale had spared no expense for the meal, crafting each dish so that everyone had what they wanted and what they would enjoy the most. You sliced into a relatively rare steak and watched as the red blood covered your plate, causing you to salivate. Your pregnancy cravings had two settings, sweet and bloody; there was no in-between. 

When you took a rather large bite, Gale started to ask more questions. He was always searching for knowledge, and the topic of vampire children was something that was yet to be covered majorly. It felt like he was entirely too interested and asking far too many questions so he could publish a book on the topic and be credited as the one who found out how it was done. 

“Tell me again, how exactly did you manage this astounding feat?” Gale had a large glass of red wine beside him and began slicing into his own dinner that you had no doubt paired nicely with his steak. 

“When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much, they…” Astarion spoke for you while your mouth was full of meat and blood. 

“Asatrion, I know how sex works. What I want to know is how her fey blood allowed your seed to impregnate her.” Gale looked at Astarion, not too pleased to be getting a talking to about the birds and the bees. 

“We don’t know, maybe since he’s also technically still a high elf, my ovaries allowed it.”  You said after you swallowed your mouth full of steak. “What we do know is I’m pregnant, it's his, and I’m a walking miracle.” 

“I can see why you kept this a secret. There’s no telling what would happen if people found out what you were carrying.”Glae took a small bite of his food. 

“What do you mean?” You placed your knife and fork on your plate. 

“I only mean that vampires aren’t people's cup of tea usually. And there's a reason why there is not a lot of knowledge about half vampire half humanoid children….” Gale hesitated, not wanting to go on.

“And why is that?” Astarion stared at Gale, a challenge in them. 

“They’re hailed as being unholy abominations and killed…” Gale looked down at his plate, not wanting to meet yours or Astarion’s eyes. 

“We won’t let that happen! Aunty K and Uncle Wyll will not let that happen.” Karlach slammed her fist on the table. 

“No, we will not.” Wyll echoed his wife's sentiment. “We will just have to keep the fact that they are Half-vampires a secret. How is it that people normally find out the parentage?” 

“Other vampires, usually it’s almost as if they can smell it.” They all looked at Astarion. 

“We can. There’s a particular odor that goes with the undead. I hide mine because I can’t stand the smell.” Astarion looked at you, noting the color that had drained from your face. “We can do the same for our child, dear.” 

You reached for Astarion’s hand under the table, and he did the same. This opened up a whole new fear. Maybe if you moved out of the city, that would lessen your chances of being discovered. Though, as far as you knew, the last vampire to grace the city was Cazador, and since then, it had just been Astarion these last fifty years. He never mentioned smelling another vampire. 

“There hasn’t been another vampire in Baldur’s gate since Cazador… right?” You looked at Astarion. 

“No, I don’t know why usually there is always a vampire lord in a large city. Maybe they are afraid after what happened to the last one.” You saw his eyes glaze over, going a thousand realms away, and squeezed slightly. He returned the squeeze, gently glancing at you sideways and sending you a small smile. 

“What about the rest of the population?” Shadowheart spoke up. “Are they going to be a threat?”

“Astarion walks around, and normal people can’t tell he’s a vampire… Well, unless they look at his teeth.” Gale said as he tilted his head.

Astarion flashed him his best shit-eating grin.”It took you all days before you realized, and it was only because this one woke up and caught me.” He gestured towards you.

“Then we should be fine. They probably won’t have long fangs like Astarion, and we’ll teach them not to go around biting people unless they deserve it.” You picked up your glass of blood and blueberry juice and took a long swallow. The blood and juice mixture coating your tongue and filled your belly.

“I should have known you weren’t drinking wine this whole time.” Shadowheart picked up her own glass. “I can smell the blood from here.” 

“Yeah, all the signs were there, but at the time, none of you knew Astarion had it in him to knock me up.” You smiled at Astarion as he glared at you. 

“I was always more than capable. I just didn’t know I could, and if I did, I would have been trying a lot harder to do so all these years.”  He pulled your hand to his lips and kissed the ring that he had placed on your finger earlier that day. 

You felt your face grow hot as you thought about all the ways he would prove that to be true. Every night, a different position, and every night, you would scream his name in ecstasy. Astarion could sense your arousal and mouthed one word in response. Later. 

“You two are disgusting.” Shadowheart took a long drink of her wine.

“And you’re just jealous you don’t have someone to make love to.” Astarion’s eyes didn’t break from yours. “This child will be loved and protected. I can promise you that no one will harm them or you for as long as I still draw breath.”

“Fuck.” You cursed as his decoration of love and devotion to you and your child only stoked the fire growing in you more.

The others looked away, looking as if they wanted to be anywhere but where they were now. 

“If the two of you are going to…. I gave you a private room for a reason… Please use it.” Gale pushed his plate away. 

“Oh, we’ve already broken in the room, Gale.” Astarion stood up slowly. “One thing you can write about if you are going to publish a book about vampire humanoid babies is that the hormones the mate gives off are simply irresistible.” 

“Don’t call me your mate; that's creepy and weird.” You stood along with him. “We’re not animals.” 

“No but we Certainly act like we are in heat.” 

Astarion extended his hand to you, and taking it, he led you towards the stairs. You twisted your fingers in with his, creating a weave that even Mystra couldn’t untangle. The hormones racing through you felt as if someone had placed a lust curse on you. Every inch of you buzzed with the need to have Astarion touch you, taste you and have him fill you. 

“See you all in the morning. Don’t wait up.” Astarion said as he moved up the stairs towards your room. 

You and Astarion made your way toward the room that neither one of you would be leaving the rest of the night. Reaching the stairs, you slowly made your accent, the wetness between your legs growing slicker as you thought about everything you wanted him to do to you. Astarion looked at you sidelong, and you saw that he was doing the same. You peered down to see his length straining against his pants. 

“Don’t you wish you could not wear pants to Astarion?” You turned your focus back to traversing the stairs, your legs growing weak from your thoughts. 

“I’m not sure the others would have liked me coming down for dinner in nothing but what the gods gave me.” He said as you made it to the top of the stairs just down the hall from your room. 

“Probably not.” You turned the corner, now entirely out of sight from the others. “But maybe n…”

You were cut off as Astarion pinned you against the wall, his body flush against yours. his erection pushing into you. You moaned as his lips collided with yours, and his tongue entered your mouth. doing a full sweep of the area before pulling out and biting your lower lip. He let go and looked at you hungrily.

“Gods, you smell delicious, my love.” His teeth moved down to your neck but paused just short of taking a bite. “And you tasted divine earlier.”

You could feel his fangs on your neck just above your skin, primed and ready to sink in if only you asked. You turned your head to the side to give him a better angle. He still hesitated. His hot breath came out in short bursts on your neck, and you could sense his animalistic need to feed. 

“Is it because you bit me earlier? Is that why you won’t bite me now.” You pulled back, no longer feeling his teeth or breath on your neck. Placing your hand on the side of his face, you forced him to look at you. His eyes were dilated. “What if I feed from you first?” 

“That would work.” He turned his neck towards you, giving you the left side of his neck. The one you bit a few weeks prior. 

“Not out here.” You grabbed his hand once again and led him to your room, shutting the door behind you and locking it. 

Astarion stood in the middle of the room, looking at you in anticipation. You stared back at him, not knowing what to do. The last time, it was rough and full of need. This time, you wanted it to be a little different. 

You pulled off your dress, exposing your body to him, not breaking eye contact, but for the split moment, the gown went over your eyes. Astarion drank you in, looking up and down as he took in your naked form. He moved to touch you, and you put your hand up. 

“You too, Astarion. Get naked.”

Astarion gave you a cheeky smile as he pulled off his doublet, then his shirt, boots, and then his pants, making sure that they would be last. His length sprang free, and you felt yourself grow even hotter as you drank in his form. He did an added spin for good measure, letting you see all of him. 

“If our child has half of both our good looks, then they’re going to have an easy life.”Astarion’s fingers shook as he spoke. He longed to touch you but waited for you all the same. 

“Sit down on the bed, Astarion.” He did as you asked. 

You walked over and sat on his lap, your button sitting between his legs so that both your legs were hanging over his right leg. You kissed just under his left jawline, and you felt his length stiffen more as it sat against your leg. You trailed light kisses down to his neck just by his jugular, paying extra attention to that area. 

“Are you teasing me, or have you lost your nerve to bite me?” Astarion sounded out of breath. 

“Patients Astarion.” You placed your teeth on his skin like had done to you earlier when he was fighting his instincts to bite you. “Good things come to those who wait.”

At that, you sunk your teeth in, breaking the skin and feeling his hot blood enter your mouth. He flung his head back and moaned as your tongue probed and sucked the holes you made in his skin. You sucked until you couldn’t taste his blood anymore on your tongue, pulling away from his skin with a pop.

Astarion moved his head to look at you. This was only the second time you had bitten him, and from the look on his face, it would not be the last. He grabbed and twisted you so that you now laid on the bed with your legs between his and them hanging slightly off the bed. He placed a hard, needy kiss against your lips and slid his tongue into your mouth once more. 

“The taste of me on your tongue is something I want to taste every day, my love.” He broke the kiss. “And it’s time I returned the favor. 

He moved to your neck, wasting no time as he sunk his fangs into your skin. You gasped, Since being pregnant, this is one thing that you missed the most. The feeling of his fangs in you as he sucked blood from your veins was simply erotic, and you could see why there were so many erotic novels about vampires. 

You reached your hand down to find his hard length, taking it in your hand and pumping it slowly. Astarion moaned into your neck as he sucked more of your blood out and into him. You wrapped your legs around his waist and used your hand to place him at your entrance. Arching your hips slightly, he slid into you, and Astarion gasped, pulling away from your neck. 

“Don’t stop.” You said as you angled your neck to give him a better angle. “Feed and Fuck Astarion.”

“Gods, I love you.” 

Astarion’s fangs sunk back into your neck and, as he did, started a slow, lazy thrust of his hips in and out of you. The feeling of his fangs in you, taking your blood, and the feeling of his length taking his pleasure sent you close to the edge. You moaned his name as his slow, lazy thrusts turned into harder, needier thrusts. 

He pulled his fangs from your neck, not waiting to drink too much, just taking as much as you took from him. Astarion hooked his hands under your knees, allowing you to rest them as he thrusted into you harder. Pulling almost entirely out before slamming back into you. You moved your hand to your now swollen and sensitive clit, rubbing circles and allowing your climax to grow faster. 

You looked at the holes you made in his neck and thought about the hole in yours that would match the thought pushing you over the edge of your climax. As you moaned, his name Astarion soon followed after the mix of you tightening around him and his name on your lips being too much for him to contain himself. You felt him fill you fully as he still thrusted his length inside you, milking his own orgasm to completion. 

“We should definitely get into the practice of trying to make children,” Astarion said as he leaned down to kiss you. “I have never seen you so aroused.” 

He placed a hard kiss on your lips. “I agree; how many do you want? three ? four?Though it took us fifty years to conceive this one.”

This child was a miracle in itself; truth be told, you weren’t sure Astarion and yourself could handle more than one child. Let alone this one. 

“True.“ He was grinning ear to ear. “But we can sure try.”

[adamnablelittledevil]

Hello,Can you rank your Armand favorite relationshipw and why ? (I just love reading opinions , nothing serious)

Hi!

Fistly, thank you for the question! I get sometimes sending messages can be uncomfortable and you may not receive the nicest answers, but you don't need to explain yourself. Whether is a fun or serious question, asking my opinion or sharing your own: I LOVE talking about this universe and always welcome it.

Anyway, now to ranking!

P.S. This is long and contain spoilers. These opinions are based on the sequence from The Vampire Lestat to The Vampire Armand and aren't necessarily permanent.

Lesmand / Armandstat

Favorite relationship on the books as a whole for basically three reasons: it's always interesting (even on its smallest moments), they are deeply mirrored so it provides a compelling dynamic and is often intense. They are two sides of the same coin and parallel one another so much in terms of personalities and experiences. From their first interaction, it already seemed that they knew each other their whole lives because they could read one another like an open book. There is this mix of unconscious, but immediate recognition, understanding, curiosity, care, attraction, insecurity, fear, anger and frustration because they're the only ones that fully get each other. It's one thing to know someone for what they share or you observe, but you only fully comprehend somebody when you have a lot in common like they do. Still, that's terrifying because you're completely bare, vulnerable and forced to confront stuff you want to run away from. They have a lot of sharp dialogue and arguments where they throw the hardest truths on the other's face and they know how to push each other's buttons from day one. Yet, the fascination, affection and protection are still there and they always stay somewhat close. And that results in a lot of first class tension: what brings both together also pulls them apart and they're often fighting so many conflicting emotions (as a duo and individuals) because they keep going back and forth. Obviously, they're far from perfect and have both tremendously hurt one another verbally, physically and with Claudia's death (which Armand's is responsible for). But even then, they were never enemies or rivals. I get why people would use such words, but I think they would need to hate or wish bad things for each other to be classified as such and that's never happened. Even if they did something to give that impression, it wasn't genuine and they made themselves suffer in the process too. There was definitely hate for words said and things done, but for the person it was always love. Through the good, the bad, the ugly and the complicated. This dynamic defies definitions and there aren't enough words in any language I know to fully and precisely categorize or desxribe even it. For better or worse, they're on a league of their own and I've never seen anything like it on books, movies or TV shows.

2. Armand x Bianca

I love Bianca. She's been such a great addition and it's a breath of fresh air whenever she appears. It was so satisfying to see them being friends, connecting and Armand having something that was entirely his own without Marius being involved (though considering the pattern of this book, it will probably change). I also enjoy the fact they met and bonded as humans, you know? There's something lovely and unique about it since most pairings had one or both parties already being a vampire on their first encounter. And another sweet thing is that even centuries later Armand still emphasizes how he'll never forget her. They have become really special to me.

3. Armand & Riccardo

Usually relationships where one is a small or Marius is somewhat involved don't work for me, but that's an exception. Riccardo isn't as developed as Armand and part of this (creepy) palazzo where Marius keeps several teenagers/children in, but you do know enough to grow attached to him. Actually, given the situation these boys are in, I ended up caring about the ones who don't even have a name. And despite the proximity Marius has to them, the kids have friendships of their own. Obviously, this isn't the healthiest environment and they all deserved better, but I'm so glad they had each other and a sense of family (specially because some of them don't even remember their own relatives well anymore). That brings me some kind of comfort. There are these moments when Armand gets emotional thinking about how much he loves them all and would die for them and when he almost does and they're all (with Bianca) crying and Armand is surprised by their reactions because they loved him so much... It really moved me So, I adore them.

4. Armandiel

The Devil's Minion chapter is one of my top favorite pieces of The Queen of the Damned. Its best aspect is seeing Armand on his self-discovery journey and how Daniel was just patient and supportive. And that's so important, because a big part of Armand's characterization is how he has no sense of identity. He's gone through so much trauma since early and formative years and always adapted to please others or even make out alive. This made him lose key parts of his memory and every sense of self and he definitely needed that. So, to see Daniel not tell him what to do, but instead let him try new stuff, see what he loved or not, on his own terms and pace and Daniel just going along with him... It was wonderful. The only downsides is that I believe Daniel deserved more individual development and it was rushed. Twelve years deserved more chapters, probably books plural. That said, I bet the show will take its strong points and only elevate their story. And I can't wait because I've already lost my mind with them on season 2 (they have my favorite scene on the show, by the way).

Honorable mentions:

Armand & Benji + Sybelle

Haven't seen a lot of them, but Armand opened his book saying he was full of love and excitedly talking about these children he took in. There's also this moment he asked David if he liked his kids and he just sounded like a proud dad. It was adorable. I'm definitely looking forward to seeing more of them.

Armand & his family

There's been very little of them and I doubt there will be more, so I can't talk about their relationship per se, but the chapter they say goodbye is devastating and beautiful. Those recent posts of me losing my mind were because of it. I've never cried so much with art and rarely cried like that even in real life. It was an experience I'd never had before and an emotion I didn't know was humanly possible. I was mentally, emotionally and spiritually touched to the point of exhaustion. It's been the best part of The Vampire Armand, if not of the whole chronicles. And it will stick with me forever.

[syndrossi]

resonant ch27 dvd commentary

Favorite line:

The red priestess had thought Jon’s resurrection irrefutable proof of her god’s power, yet at times Jon had wondered if he was so different from the wights he faced across the battlefield: something dead, with fire breathed into him rather than ice, intended instead to be a puppet for R’hllor.

It's an interesting parallel, and one that I'm sure Jon has mused upon before. The dead are not allowed to rest; they are tools to be used by unknowable forces. Unlike the wights, of course, Jon is alive and has free will, but that doesn't mean his return to the living wasn't meant to serve a purpose, as the wights do.

Favorite detail:

The gifts! I had a lot of fun picking the first batch out. Rhaegar's gifts are pretty easy/obvious, and we even had Daemon musing last chapter about getting him charcoals and parchment. The book written by Aenar Targaryen will definitely be important/useful as they go through it. With the dragons left in the care of the Dragonkeepers, it's not a book that anyone has likely read in a century. Aegon or Visenya could very well have been the last to do so, other than Viserys briefly scanning it for information to reconstruct the hatchery in his model.

Meanwhile, the generational cartography is something that felt fitting for dragonriders to do. It is far easier to map something from a bird's eye view versus going about slowly on foot, though it requires recalling the details later, as dragonback is not the most stable position to draw from! One eagle-eyed commenter on the chapter guessed at Daemon's reasoning for Jon's gifts: in both chapters 24 and 26, he's shown interest in ship movement on dragonback and the landscape in general. So he gets a map and wooden model ships!

(Obviously Jon is attached to his bronze knife, but Daemon needs more lead time to have a Targaryen equivalent made.)

And the gifts also reflect aspects of Daemon that he shares with both children: a curiosity about the lay of the land and the movement of people and things below (a strategic eye), and his own interest in their family's history and dragons. Daemon's similarities to Jon are often more obvious, because their personalities on the surface are closer, but he shares many things in common with Rhaegar too!

Favorite dynamic:

The cousins, naturally. Aegon and Aemond's childish jealousy (enhanced by their existing dislike for their nephews) of their shiny new cousins spending time with other children, doing that thing that kids do where they demand you admit that they're your best friend obviously and far superior to any other friends.

Then we have Aemond "letting" Jon be Aemon so that he can be Rhaegar's brother instead, living out the dream of having a brother he likes and can relate to / have adventures with. While Aegon wants to buy "cool points" with his secrets.

And the sibling sabotage with Aegon's secrets, of course! With Otto as their grandfather and Viserys as their father, they are privy to some interesting conversations, which is a resource that Jon and Rhaegar can try to leverage in the future.

Meanwhile, no one has made any guesses yet as to the secret Aegon wants to show them...

Quick hitters:

I hate the flow of "Princesguard" but it's KINGSguard and QUEENSguard, so symmetry demands it. It's also very patriarchal (it's not called Princessesguard), but so is the Kingsguard tbh. I imagine "Princesguard" will be considered a neutral term.

I quite enjoyed delving into Jon's musings on the gods, and his conclusion that he'll pray to whoever keeps his family safe. It's a sentiment we've seen from him before, when Rhaegar has been in danger, where he throws out prayers to whatever god might listen.

Jon opens himself a little bit to Jon Redfort and receives a memory in return. A few folks on AO3 have wondered why Rhaegar can remember parts of Raymar's life but not Jon, and it comes down to Jon being very resistant to opening himself up that way. He keeps a very hard line of separation, which can make his emotions more volatile (Jon Redfort's emotions reach a boiling point that spills over).

I considered writing the gift-giving from Daemon's POV after I finished writing it in Jon's. I'm fond of the "least knowledgeable" POV principle, aka writing a scene from the POV of the character who knows the least about what's going on. Daemon lacks context on the candle, and he has no idea what the boys feel about his gifts, so we'd get his reads on both their reception of the gifts and what they're feeling about the candle. But it also felt reasonably fine from Jon's POV and I usually don't bother rewriting a POV unless I'm unhappy with a scene.

Harvest festival + ball name drop! It's about two months out for the start of the monthlong festivities, which gives interested knights of the land time to make the trek for the Princesguard tourney at its close (3 months from now).

The toy ships were a bit of a bust from Jon's perspective, since he's not actually all that interested in nautical matters aside from their implications for conflicts/supplies. But he wouldn't ever want Daemon to think so, so we'll see if Jon forces himself to play with them for his benefit later. 😅 Laenor+the Velaryon boys are more likely to be interested! (Laenor: You know, Daemon, if you ever need someone to teach you about seamanship...)

I really like the godswood as a setting. It's quite peaceful.

This chapter in general was quite peaceful, until Daemon dropped not one but two "famous last words" remarks at the end.

No deleted scenes or even deleted bits this time to share!

[fourthwingfan]

Madness - Chapter 8

Hello, hello dear readers. The new chapter is here, the longest so far. I hope you'll enjoy it :)

„There is an art to poison not often discussed, and that is timing. Only a master can properly dose and administer for effective onset. One must take into account the mass of the individual as well as the method of delivery.

—Effective Uses of Wild and Cultivated Herbs

by Captain Lawrence Medina”

The women’s hall is quiet as I dress for the morning, the sun barely peeking above the horizon in the far windows. I take the dragon-scale vest from where I left it to dry on the hanger at the end of my bed and slip it on over my short-sleeve black shirt. It’s a good thing I’ve gotten pretty adept at tightening the laces behind my back, since Violet isn’t in her bed. She had to get up earlier than the others. She’s on breakfast duty. And she chose it herself. I would think she’s a masochist if I didn’t know the reason behind it. Two words. Challenges. Poison.

I grab my bag on the way out, passing by rows of empty beds that belonged to the dozen women who haven’t survived to see August.

Time sure flies. And I’m incredibly lucky that after the talk with the General in his office, he had to go to the front. I didn’t have to report. It’s really a great luck because I haven’t figured out how to lie to him about the marked-ones.

With these thoughts I shove open the door.

And there he is.

“You didn’t tell me why you chose the library duty.” I greet the smiling Liam. He always at the door waiting for me in the mornings.

“Good morning to you too, Sunshine.” He laughs at me. “And I chose it because you’re my friend, and if I don’t go to the library then I would never see you after classes. It’s like you’re in love with the books. Or learning. I’m not sure yet.”

“Haha, you’re funny. And don’t call me that either” I say grumpily as we made our way to the quadrant’s library. It’s not like the Archives where the scribes are. It only contains books what we learn at classes. History, dragons, past reports etc. Despite of that, I like our library, it’s cozy. And not crowded at all. It seems the Riders don’t have time to read.

“And why did you chose the library?” Liam asks as we enter the library. “You’re always here after classes and I don’t understand why you’d want to come here so early in the morning.”

“What if I just love books?” I ask with a raised eyebrow. The only reason I chose the library duty is because we’ve got the keys to open it at the start of the day, and to close it before curfew.

“No, you don’t.” He shakes his head.

“What? How do you know?” I ask him curiously.

“You always look angry when you’re reading or writing an essay. It’s like books are you’re nemesis.” He says with a surprising insight.

I should have known. Liam is very observant, since our first day. He always points out what I try to hide. Only because he cares about me, not with bad intentions. And because of that I find myself opening up to him. I told him a lot of things about me. Things that only Violet knew. I really appreciate our friendship. He’s the kindest man whom I ever met. And I feel bad about his parents, even though he won’t speak about them. After all it was my father who killed them.

“I just like to be left alone.” I try to share some truth with him. “Not many people come here.”

I go to the closet beside the wall, near the entrance and pick up a broom. “Do you got the books?” I nod toward the piles of books which was brought back by the cadets and riders sometime yesterday.

“Yes, that’s true. But I think it’s only part of it.” He picks up the first book. “I don’t want to pry but I have eyes. You hate books. You take notes without looking what you write. I did not once see you put back a book in it’s place since we started this thing. You can tell me anything, but only if you want. If you’re not comfortable then just forget it.”

Shit. What should I do? He almost figured it out. If I tell him my secret will he changes toward me? I don’t want that. But if he finds out without me telling him, would it be better? No. I don’t think so.

Then I just have to prepare for the worst.

“It’s a long story.” I say while I walk to the chair beside the desk he currently sorting books. “You really want to know?” I sit and look at him with a serious gaze.

“Yes. I like you, you’re a good person. I want to know because if I can, then I want to help you.” He sits in front of the desk and turns to me.

“I have dyslexia.” I stare my hand without looking up. “When I was born…my mother…” I try to explain but I can’t. I didn’t even knew her but it still hurts to think about it.

He grips my hand and when I look up he smiles reassuringly.

“There was certain circumstances which caused brain damage due to lack of oxygen.” I say in a rush lest I change my mind. “I’m normal in every other aspect, I think. It’s just that my mind works differently then others. In most situations I have good memory so it’s not that bad, but when it comes for example history then I need to learn. Or if I see a map then I should be able to read the names on it, but… But I can’t read, only with great effort. It’s really difficult. It’s like the letters are running away from me. I know which letter is which, but when I try to put into words it’ll become nothing. It’s really tiring. I’m useless, I know. And I understand if you don’t want to be my friend anymore.” I draw back my hand to let him go.

“Aelin. Look at me.” He says quietly.

I look up at him and only see understanding in his eyes.

The air rushes out of my lungs.

“First, you’re not useless! You’re a very kind and protective woman. You’re really amazing and do not forget that! It doesn’t matter if you can read a whole book within an hour or not. It doesn’t define who you are. I don’t know who said that shit to you, but it’s not true.” He says firmly and my eyes are stinging. “You’re very precious to me. And I find it amazing that despite of your struggle you’re here as you are. You’re smart. If you struggle a little then what? Nobody is perfect. Me neither. And if I can help you with anything, even if you only need me to read out loud the books then I will help you. Because we’re friends.”

I swallow hard and try to blink back the tears. Nobody said things like this to me. And here we are. A marked-one and General Melgren’s daughter. And despite of the circumstances he became my best friend beside Violet. Because he wanted to.

“Liam…” I start but my voice breaks. I feel that if I say a thing then I will cry. Instead I smile at him. With real, genuine smile. With all the warm that I can muster up. I want him to know that I really appreciate his words. Him.

“Now come. We need to tidy up here before breakfast.” He lets go my hand and stands up. But I know he understood what I couldn’t say. He understand me.

“Yeah” I say in a raspy voice. “Don’t slack off.”

He just laughs and it seems that the library is brigther then minutes ago.

***

„Keep the temperaments of each specific breed in mind when you decide which dragons to approach and which to run from at Threshing,” Professor Kaori says, his serious, dark eyes slashing toward his nose as he studies the new recruits for a beat, then he changes the projection he’s conjured from a Green Daggertail to a Red Scorpiontail. He’s an illusionist and the only professor in the quadrant with the signet ability to project what he sees in his mind, which makes this class one of my favorites.

The Red Scorpiontail in the center of our circled tables is a fraction of its actual size, six feet tall at most, but it’s an exact replica of the actual firebreather waiting in the Vale for Threshing.

“Red Scorpiontails, like Ghrian here, are the quickest to temper,” Professor Kaori continues, his perfectly trimmed mustache curving as he smiles at the illusion like he’s the dragon himself. We all take notes. “So if you offend him, you’re—”

“Lunch,” Ridoc says, and the class laughs. We have a common class with Violet’s squad and unfortunately Jack Barlowe is here too, who hasn’t quit glaring at Violet since his squad took over their quarter of the room a half hour ago.

“Precisely,” Professor Kaori responds. “So what’s the best way to approach a Red Scorpiontail?” He glances around the room.

I know the answer, but I keep my hand to myself to lay low as always.

“You don’t,” Liam mutters next to me, and I huff a laugh under my breath.

“They prefer that you approach from the left and from the front, if possible,” a woman from our squad answers.

“Excellent.” Professor Kaori nods. “For this Threshing, there are three Red Scorpiontails willing to bond.” The image changes in front of us to a different dragon.

“How many dragons are there in total?” Rhiannon asks.

“A hundred for this year,” Professor Kaori answers, changing the image again. “But some might change their minds during Presentation in about two months, depending on what they see.”

My stomach hits the floor.

“That’s thirty-seven fewer than last year.” Violet says.

Maybe even fewer if they don’t like the look of us after we have to parade by them for their perusal two days before Threshing. Then again, there’s usually fewer cadets after that particular event anyway.

Professor Kaori’s dark eyebrows rise. “Yes, Cadet Sorrengail, it is, and twenty-six fewer than the year before that.”

Fewer dragons are choosing to bond, but the number of riders entering the quadrant has remained steady. My mind whirls. Attacks at the eastern borders are increasing, according to every Battle Brief, and yet there are fewer dragons willing to bond in order to defend Navarre.

“Will they tell you why they won’t bond?” another first-year asks.

“No, jackass,” Jack scoffs, his icy-blue gaze narrowing on the cadet. “Dragons only talk to their bonded riders, just like they only give their full name to their bonded rider. You should know that by now.”

Professor Kaori sends Jack a look that shuts the first-year’s mouth but doesn’t stop him from sneering at the other cadet. “They don’t share their reasons,” our instructor says. “And anyone who respects their life won’t ask a question they’re not willing to answer.”

“Do the numbers affect the wards?” Aurelie asks from where she sits behind Violet, tapping her quill against the edge of her desk.

Professor Kaori’s jaw ticks twice. “We’re not sure. The number of bonded dragons has never affected the integrity of Navarre’s wards before, but I’m not about to lie to you and say that we’re not seeing increased breaches when you know from Battle Brief that we are.”

The wards are faltering at a rate that makes my thoughts running wild with possible theories every time Professor Devera starts our daily Battle Brief. Either we’re weakening or our enemies are getting stronger. Both possibilities mean the cadets in this room are needed more than ever.

The image changes to Sgaeyl, the navy-blue dragon bonded to Xaden.

My stomach pitches as I remember the way she looked right through me that first day.

But despite of that I found her beautiful. That color and that confident stance.

“You won’t have to worry about how to approach blue dragons, since there are none willing to bond this Threshing, but you should be able to recognize Sgaeyl if you see her,” Professor Kaori says.

“So you can fucking run,” Ridoc drawls.

I nod along while others laugh.

“She’s a Blue Daggertail, the rarest of the blues, and yes, if you see her without her bonded rider, you should…definitely find somewhere else to be. Ruthless does not begin to describe her, nor does she abide by what we assume to be what the dragons consider law. She even bonded the relative of one of her previous riders, which you all know is typically forbidden, but Sgaeyl does whatever she wants, whenever she wants. In fact, if you see any of the blues, do not approach them. Just…”

“Run,” Ridoc repeats, raking his hand through his floppy brown hair.

“Run,” Professor Kaori agrees with a smile, the mustache above his top lip quivering slightly. “There are a handful of other blues in active service, but you’ll find them all along the Esben Mountains in the east, where the fighting is most intense. They’re all intimidating, but Sgaeyl is the most powerful of them all.”

My breath catches. No wonder Xaden can wield shadows—shadows that can yank daggers out of trees, shadows that can probably throw those same daggers. And yet…he let me live. I shove the kernel of warmth that thought gives me far, far away.

He was an asshole after all.

“What about the black dragon?” the first-year next to Jack asks. “There’s one here, right?”

Jack’s face lights up. “I want that one.”

“Not that it’s going to matter.” Professor Kaori flicks his wrist and Sgaeyl disappears, and a massive black dragon takes her place. Even the illusion is bigger, making me crane my neck slightly to see its head. “But just to appease your curiosity, since this is the only time you’ll ever see him, here is the only other black besides General Melgren’s.”

“He’s huge,” Rhiannon says. “And is that a clubtail?”

“No. A morningstartail. He has the same bludgeoning power of a clubtail, but those spikes will eviscerate a person just as well as a daggertail.”

“Best of both worlds,” Jack calls out. “He looks like a killing machine.”

“He is,” Professor Kaori answers. “And honestly, I haven’t seen him in the last five years, so this image is more than a little outdated. But since we have him up here, what can you tell me about black dragons?”

“They’re the smartest and most discerning,” Aurelie calls out.

“They’re the rarest,” I add in. “There hasn’t been one born in the last…century.”

“Correct.” Professor Kaori spins the illusion again, and I’m met with a pair of glaring yellow eyes. “They’re also the most cunning. There’s no such thing as outsmarting a black dragon. This one is a little over a hundred, which makes him about middle-aged. He’s revered as a battle dragon among their kind, and if not for him, we probably would have lost during the Tyrrish rebellion. Add to it that he’s a morningstartail, and he’s one of the deadliest dragons in Navarre.”

„I bet he powers one hell of a signet. How do you approach him?” Jack asks, leaning forward in his seat. There’s pure avarice in his eyes, mirrored by his friend next to him.

That’s the last thing this kingdom needs, someone as cruel as Jack bonding to a black dragon. No, thank you.

“You don’t,” Professor Kaori answers. “He hasn’t agreed to bond since his previous and only rider was killed during the uprising, and the only way you’d ever be near him is if you’re in the Vale, which you won’t be, because you’d be incinerated before you ever got through the gorge.”

The pale redhead across the circle from me shifts in her seat and tugs her sleeve down to cover her rebellion relic.

“Someone should ask him again,” Jack urges.

“It doesn’t work that way, Barlowe. Now, there is only one other black dragon, which is in service—”

“General Melgren’s,” Sawyer says. His book is closed in front of him, but I can’t blame him. I’d hardly be taking notes, either, if this was the second time I’d gone through this class. “Codagh, right?”

Everyone looks at me with curiosity in their eyes. Shit. What do they think? I won’t tell stories about him. Never.

They say the dragon chooses their rider based on things that makes them a great match. In this case they’re both cruel. They deserve each other, I shudder.

“Yes.” Professor Kaori nods. “The eldest of their den and a swordtail.”

“But just for curiosity’s sake.” Jack’s glacial-blue gaze doesn’t stray from the illusion of the unbonded black dragon still being projected. “What signet ability would this guy gift his rider?”

Professor Kaori closes his fist, and the illusion disappears. “There’s no telling. Signets are the result of the unique chemistry between rider and dragon and usually say more about the rider than the dragon. The stronger the bond and the more powerful the dragon, the stronger the signet.”

“Fine. What was his previous rider’s?” Jack asks.

“Naolin’s signet was siphoning.” Professor Kaori’s shoulders fall. “He could absorb power from various sources, other dragons, other riders, and then use it or redistribute it.”

“Badass.” Ridoc’s tone has more than a little hero worship.

“He was,” Professor Kaori agrees.

“What kills someone with that kind of signet?” Jack asks, crossing his arms over his thick chest.

Professor Kaori glances at Violet for a heartbeat before looking away. “He attempted to use that power to revive a fallen rider—which didn’t work, because there’s no signet capable of resurrection—and depleted himself in the process. To use a phrase you’ll become accustomed to after Threshing, he burned out and died next to that rider.”

Something in my chest shifts, a feeling that I can’t explain and yet can’t shake.

The bells ring, signaling the hour is up, and we all begin to gather our things. The squads filter out to the hallway, emptying the room, and I rise from behind my desk and go to stand beside Violet, shouldering my satchel as Liam waits for me by the door, a puzzled expression on his face.

“It was Brennan, wasn’t it?” Violet asks Professor Kaori.

Sadness fills his gaze as he meets hers. “Yes. He died trying to save your brother, but Brennan was too far gone.”

“Why would he do that?” She shifts the weight of her satchel. „Resurrection isn’t possible. Why would he essentially kill himself when Brennan was already gone?”

A stampede of grief tramples my heart, stealing my breath. Brennan never would have wanted anyone to die for him. That wasn’t in his nature.

Professor Kaori sits back against his desk, pulling at the short, dark hairs of his mustache as he stares at us. “Being a Sorrengail and Melgren doesn’t do you any favors in here, does it?”

I shake my head. “There are more than a few cadets who would like to take me—and my last name—down a peg.”

He nods. “It won’t be like that once you leave. After graduation, you’ll find that being who you are means others will do just about anything to keep you alive, even pleased, not because they love your mother or father but because they either fear them or want their favor.”

“Which was Naolin?”

“A little bit of both. And sometimes it’s hard for a rider with a signet that powerful to accept his limits. After all, bonding makes you a rider, but resurrecting someone from the dead? Now, that makes you a god. I somehow don’t think that Malek takes kindly to a mortal treading on his territory.”

“Thank you for answering.” Violet turns and starts toward the door, I follow her.

“Violet,” Professor Kaori calls out, and I pivot to look back. “I taught both your siblings. A signet like mine is too useful here in the classroom to let me deploy with a wing for long. Brennan was a spectacular rider and a good man. Mira is shrewd and gifted in the seat when it comes to riding.”

She nods.

“But you’re smarter than both of them.”

She blinks. It’s not often she gets compared to her brother and sister and somehow come out on top.

“From what I’ve seen of you helping your friend study in commons every night, it seems you might be more compassionate, too. Don’t forget that.”

“Thank you, but being smart and compassionate isn’t going to help me when it comes to Threshing.” A self-deprecating laugh escapes her mouth. “You know more about dragons than anyone else in the quadrant, probably anyone else on the Continent. They choose strength and shrewdness.”

“They choose for reasons they don’t see fit to share with us.” He pushes off his desk. “And not all strength is physical, Violet.”

She nods, and we head over to meet Rhiannon and Liam at the door.

“See? I told you that you’re the smartest person I know.” I grin at her. “And if anybody will bond with a strong dragon at Threshing then you will be the one.”

“You’re just saying that to comfort me.” She sighs.

“No, Vi. I say it because I belive in you.” I grab her arm and look into her eyes. “You’re smart, persistent and a good person. Don’t underestimate yourself.”

“Okay, I try.” She gives in.

“Good. Now see you later at the gym.” I wink at her and go grab Liam’s arm.

“Come on, we’re gonna be late.” I laugh at him.

“Again.” He mutters.

***

I’m so nervous for Violet’s challenge I thought as I stand and watch Liam beat the ever-loving shit out of his opponent. It’s a guy from Second Wing, and it takes almost no time for him to get the guy into a headlock, cutting off his air supply.

He’s really good. I cross my arms across my chest. I’m stripped down to the dragon-scale vest that’s starting to feel like a second skin and my fighting leathers. All four of my daggers are sheathed, and if everything goes correctly, I’ll have one more to add to my collection soon.

The Second Wing first-year passes out, and Liam rises victorious as we clap. Then he leans over his opponent and removes the dagger at his side. “Looks like this is mine now. Enjoy your nap.” He pats him on the head, which makes me laugh. Maybe I’m a bad influence to him.

I hear a shout behind me and I turn around.

Wow. Jack Barlowe stands near the wall and two daggers are etched into the wall. One near his ear and the other near his balls.

That must be Violet. So she took Xaden’s advice. I’m…glad.

There’s no ignoring the prickle at my scalp, and I let my gaze shift to see Xaden watching Violet.

My heart does that damn stuttering thing again, as if he’d sent shadows straight through my ribs to squeeze the organ. He lifts his scarred brow, and he walks toward the door, but before he can disappear he looks at me and I swear there’s a hint of a smile on his lips as he leaves.

That’s strange. It’s just me or he sends mixed signals? I thought he liked Violet but maybe he didn’t?

I don’t have much time to ponder on these thoughts.

„Melgren.” Professor Emetterio glances at his notebook and raises one bushy black brow before continuing. “Cardulo.”

Oh man, it will be a good fight. I grin as I step onto the mat opposite Imogen who glares daggers at me.

“You were just lucky last time.” She says as we start circling each other “And I will show everyone that you’re just a weakling.”

“Sweetie, I wasn’t lucky I’m simply that good.” I laugh at her.

She charges at me with raised fists and intends to punch me in the face but I quickly block it with my arms. I swing my right arm to land a hit on her side but she swiftly moves sideways and avoid it.

Hm, she’s not bad either. We exchange several blows, each one is faster than the one before. It’s like a well balanced dance, and we wait to see who will make the first mistake.

And there it is.

She charges at me again but her footwork is a little sloppy. I took advantage of it and kick out her legs.

She falls on the mat and I quickly try to secure her legs while punching wherever I can but she blocks almost every hit.

With a move I can’t see with her leg she reverses our positions and now my back is against the mat.

She lands a blow on my jaw and for a moment I see stars. Shit, she’s strong.

While I try to blink out the darkness she lands another punch at my ribs and grabs my hair to slam my head into the mat.

“I told you that you were lucky.” She mocks me. “You’re actually useless, aren’t you?”

Useless? My world stops for a moment.

You’re useless. You can’t even do the simple things I asked from you. You’re an embarrassment. Do something right for once in your life.

Useless. Useless. Useless.

I’m going under deeper and deeper in my memories.

‘You’re very precious to me’ I hear a voice. That’s… what Liam said at the library in the morning. He’s my friend and he doesn’t think that I’m useless. Then… maybe I’m not?

With these thoughts I’m back in reality and that’s the moment when Imogen hit my nose and I hear the bone breaking.

There’s blood everywhere.

Fuck. She broke my nose. I feel my anger rising.

When she tries to hit me again I grab her arm and I pull it to the side with all my power.

She loses her balance and I push her on the mat. With a swift move I punch her in the face, and I hear a satisfing snapping sound.

Payback bitch. Now her nose is broken too.

We begin to struggle for the upper position, but it’s like our strength is matching.

We use elbows, fists, everything we can to gain an advantage over the other one, while collecting more bruises.

With an opening, I get her into a headlock and I stabilize myself against the mat. I cut off her air supply, now I just need to endure it.

She claws my hand, tosses her body, trying to break my hold on her, but I won’t let it.

“Yield.” I say in a raspy voice.

She starts to struggle with a renewd ferocity but in vain. Slowly she starts to lose strength, slowing down. She almost lost consciousness.

“She yields.” Professor Emetterio says.

I relase her and she starts coughing.

Serves you right bitch. I won.

I stand up and I extend my hand. She looks at me with surprise in her eyes.

“It was a good match.” I say in a hoarse voice.

She accepts my hand and I help her stand up.

I turn to Liam who smiling at me. “You were great Aelin.”

“Yeah, thanks. But I think I will go see a healer, somebody should fix my nose. I don’t want a crooked nose.” I whine.

“Then come, I will escort you there” he laughs outright.

As we made our way to the doors I see Violet and her opponent and that’s when he pukes all over the mat.

Good job, Vi. The poison is working.

***

Next week I win against a second-year man with a rebellion relic who challanged me because the General is my father. What a surprise.

The week after the next I win again, because my opponent was a first-year who almost cried when the Professor paired us up.

The next week I almost lost against a second-year. He was a really strong opponent but got too cocky and his moves became sloppy.

My fifth won dagger is from another first-year. To my surprise I was paired up with Rhiannon. That was a good match, she’s strong and smart. But I’m better than her. It’s a fact. After all I was taught by the General.

It’s my luck that he was still at the front. I’m terrified if I think about the first time when I will have to report him. I can feel that I can’t avoid it much longer.

And August is over.

Come early September I stand next to the mat to wait for my match.

Violet is on the mat and I search for her opponent. What will it be this time? She will be throwing up? She won’t see after a couple of minutes? She will lost her balance?

I’m really intriguied. She always uses different kind of poisons so it’s not that conspicuous.

„Sorry, Violet,” Professor Emetterio says, scratching his short black beard. “You were supposed to challenge Rayma, but she’s been taken to the healers because she can’t seem to walk in a straight line.”

“That’s too bad.” She winces. “But I’m fine without a match” she adds quickly.

The Professor nods then turns to me “And Aelin it seems you’re opponent is Rayma’s boyfriend and probably they shared their breakfast. Now they both at the Healrs Quadrant.”

“What?” I ask with surprise evident on my face. “Then who will be my opponent?”

„I’m happy to step in.” That voice. That tone. That prickle of ice along my scalp…

Oh no. Hell no. No. No. No.

“You sure?” Professor Emetterio asks, glancing over his shoulder.

“Absolutely.”

My stomach hits the floor.

And Xaden walks onto the mat.

Shit. I should’ve said that I’m fine without a match too.

[dragonform]

Lurking on some Ninjago communities is driving me batty, so let me just get this out here.

"oLd NinJaGO wAs BetTeR"

"JuSt LeT nINjaGo dIE"

Look, buddy. Lemme tell you a story. (Buckle up, this is gonna be a long one.)

Last year, my kid Ry was six years old. Prime Ninjago age. He had already started watching Lego shows, and in fact already loved the dragon sets from Ninjago (we got him the sets for 4+ years the moment he was old enough to follow the instructions), but was a bit hesitant to start the show because some of it looked scary.

We started with Dragons Rising, because it was new at the time and Netflix was pushing it. As we watched, we got the sense that there was a lot of history behind it. My husband and I already knew Ninjago had been around for a while, having seen the sets in shops. So I looked up the history of the show to see how much we needed to catch up on.

"15 seasons!?" I yelped to my husband.

"Has it been around that long???" he responded.

We were happy, of course, that Ry had found a nice long Lego show to watch (we generally love Lego shows in this house, they all seem to be of much higher quality than other kids' tv shows out there. But I digress.)

We started from Season 1. Somewhere around Skybound (yes, ok, I know), it dawned on me that not only was Ry enjoying the show, I was enjoying the show. The scenes looked ridiculously cinematic, larger in scale than what Lego Minifigures should reasonably deliver. The action and fight scenes were ridiculously complex and fluid for little square plastic people. The faces far more expressive than what's basically an emoji printed on yellow plastic should allow for. And the characters and writing? Light years more compelling than any Hollywood superhero movie in recent memory.

"This show is ridiculous," I said to my husband, amazed.

One year later, we've collected almost all the sets we could find, and Ninjago is officially our favorite show in the entire household. Not Dragons Rising. Ninjago. All of it, from beginning to end, including the pilots and Day of the Departed (in both English and Chinese), all of it. Ask Ry if he prefers "old Ninjago" or Dragons Rising, and he'll tell you old Ninjago without hesitation. But he will cheerfully rewatch DR anytime. (We're rewatching DR S1 for the fourth time as I write this.)

What I'm trying to say is, you (imaginary OG Ninjago fan) may not like Dragons Rising, but it's how kids nowadays are discovering old Ninjago. To say it should end just because you don't like the changes? Is basically saying you're so selfish you don't want to share your childhood with the kids of today. Old Ninjago isn't going anywhere. You can rewatch it anytime. I hate New Ducktales because I grew up with Old Ducktales (jeez, now everyone knows how old I am) but I don't wish they never made New Ducktales. There's a whole new generation waiting to discover the same joy and wonder you felt watching your favorite shows. Let them watch it.

And before you say my kid and I are the exception, have you been to Legoland lately? The Ninjago rooms and ride haven't been updated since the Tournament of Elements. That's 2015 - almost a decade ago. And you know what? At our Legoland, the Ninjago rooms still go for a premium because the demand is so high. The Ninjago ride still boasts one of the longest queues in the whole of Legoland. The kids' t-shirts sell like hotcakes.

Just yesterday, at the mall, I watched a random girl, about 8 years old, sit down and pull out a copy of The Book of Elemental Powers (released in 2021) and read it. Ry has a copy of the same book.

Kids nowadays love old Ninjago AND new Ninjago. I don't know who needs to hear this, but it's right here for whoever does.

Ninjago is amazing and I wish it many long years ahead for the generations to come.

[luninosity]

It’s funny, I’d actually been putting off making this post, even though of course I’m thrilled at the book release and seeing Sam and Leo get their happy ending! But it comes with a lot of feelings.

But, first – yes, In Focus is out now! As of last weekend, from JMS Books! Book two of two, of the Character Study duology – in which supporting actor Leo and photographer Sam meet each other’s families (including Benvolio the cat!), and navigate press tours and coming out, and help their friends when a crisis happens, and find their happy ending!

It’s got a lot of emotions because it’s really the last story in the whole Character Bleed universe (as far as I know, anyway) – the original Colby/Jason trilogy, all the bonus stories, and this spin-off because Leo demanded his own book…I’ve had these characters living in my head and being excitedly loud in my writer-brain for so many years. They’re friends. I’ve written little crossovers with some of my favorite other characters – with Colby and Jason meeting Ben and Simon, who were the main characters from my first-even published M/M story, years ago! (That was “Leather & Tea,” if you’re wondering, and the crossover stories are “Coffee & Tea” and “Coffee & Tea: Epilogue,” which is, er, quite spicy!) That felt like such a full-circle moment – it was lovely.

And it’s so odd thinking that this is really it. (Okay, technically my story for the JMS Books holiday advent calendar this year is in the Character Bleed universe! But it’s a one-shot with all new characters – they might go on a date to see a Colby Kent film, but there’s no real crossover!) And I know it is the end – we’ve left everyone in a wonderful happy place, and the characters aren’t metaphorically tugging on my sleeve and popping up with a new idea about home renovation or baking contests, not anymore. I suspect that’s how my head knows it’s probably time for the next thing. (Yep, I’ve got some Ideas. Probably more in the fantasy realm…there’s the Apprentice’s Luck sequel, and story about Lorre’s daughter, and the next Aric/Em short story, and the third Regency Magicians book with @thebestpersonherelovesbucky, among said ideas…)

But this is still the biggest story I’ve ever written, counting all those books and bonus stories, and it’s been so much a part of me – it’s the story I’ve done the most outlining for (ever!), had random ideas for whilst driving home from campus, got the Good Sex Award runner-up nod for, looked up historical ship parts for, thought up terrible bread puns for…I’m so very very proud of it. I loaf it.

Thanks for reading. Thanks for sharing Colby and Jason and Leo and Sam with me. Thank you for the conversations in comments, and for the fan art and fan fic and fan trailer for Steadfast-the-movie – it’s a delight and a joy and an honor to see people making awesome things, creative things, because you love these characters too.

(Y’know, it’s also funny – I realized how many tropes I wrote into this book that I don’t normally write! It’s a coming out story, there’re kids around in the form of Sam’s sisters – well, teens, but still – there’s [sort of] a third-act breakup, or at least a needing some space, for good reasons, mind you, and it doesn’t really last that long…but all of that is just really what this story wanted to be! Of course Leo would have to be dramatic and unusual. Of course.)

So I hope you enjoy In Focus! It’s also got rather more fish and seahorse references than I expected. But everyone needs a rainbow crystal fish comfort object once in a while…

Oh, and this book also has one of my favorite playlists! I do usually have a plan for those, some more than others, and this one just…every song fits so well. I’ll probably make a separate post commenting on some of those choices, sometime, but I did start this playlist off with one of my very favorite songs (at least top five, maybe top two), which I’d been saving for the right story, and it felt right here for Sam and Leo, celebratory and tentative and determined and hopeful and full of explorations, all at once – that’s “Aside” by The Weakerthans:

…and I’m leaning on this broken fence Between past and present tense And I’m losing all those stupid games That I swore I’d never play But it almost feels okay

Circumnavigate this body Of wonder and uncertainty Armed with every precious failure And amateur cartography…

(and yes, if you know me from Stucky fandom circles, you might know which other fic I've used that song in! it's also a story I have a lot of Feels about. <3 )

[donnerpartyofone]

Even though it pains me that my expensive new phone's camera refuses to focus on an entire close-up image, even a flat one, and I am assured by many forums and reddits and the like that I'm doing it right and this camera just sucks, I will still share one of the great, sadly uncredited illos from my little old copy of Ray Bradbury's The Golden Apples of the Sun (great title stolen from a Yeats poem).

I've never read any Bradbury before, except for Fahrenheit 451 in high school which I compared so unfavorably with 1984 that I maybe didn't give it a fair try. Anyway, some of these short stories are good--or parts of them are, individually. I find him overly flowery at times, like he'll start out with a really strong description that catches my interest, but then he ruins it by continuing to add adjectives and similes just to be novel, and it's like buddy you nailed it a minute ago, what are you doing to yourself? And a lot of it is excessively sentimental in this kind of condescending way. For me the perfect example of his affect (so far) is a story where about 90% of it is just this beautiful description of a guy walking around in the suburbs on a November night, it's just captivating and the pleasure the character takes in this activity is so vividly conveyed--but then at the last minute it turns into this thing about how he's being thrown in a mental institution because he likes to go outside and read books instead of watching TV all the time, and it's just so smug and obnoxious.

There's a certain trend in science fiction, maybe it's partially his fault but it seems like a natural temptation, to congratulate the present, or even the recent past, for being so wholesome and righteous. Which is like, dystopia is a trope that I enjoy for sure, but there's a difference between saying "Humanity could be headed in a bad direction due to certain vices and imbalances," and saying "Humanity should leave everything exactly the way it is right now (or the way it was in my romanticized memories of my own childhood) because it's already perfect." It's very easy to become hyper-conservative and self-satisfied about your personal good old days. I wish I had a bunch of examples at the ready, I'm sure you can think of some or you'll notice it next time you see one, but very often the hinge issue is books. Like even as a reader and also a writer, I feel a little insulted by stories where ultimate virtue is exemplified by a character's love of reading, or villains are clearly identified because they hate books for whatever reason. OK, we get it, you're better than everybody else because you write! Good thing we're in the club too, how else could we be reading a book right now if we weren't inherently superior to the rest of the universe?

Anyway, the story this illo is from got me thinking about the notion of prescience in fiction. Like once in a while you get truly weird visions of the future (I just wrote this thing about futuristic frissons in each of the Cronenberg kids' first films), but I suspect that sometimes what seems to be a prophecy of the future is really just an acknowledgment of something inevitable. "The Murderer" takes place in a future where there is absolutely constant stimulation being broadcast from every quarter; all of life is one big billboard, there's no relief from being in constant electronic contact with everyone you know, and there's entertainment blasting out of everywhere in a continuous onslaught of overstimulation. The title character starts "murdering" all the devices, and all the stuff in his smart home, until he gets institutionalized. And on the most obvious level it's just Bradbury congratulating himself for being such a balanced and thoughtful person, again, but it's also like well, all that stuff was really coming. And did Bradbury really need to be (as they called him) the Greatest Living Science Fiction Writer in order to see it coming? Or was it just obvious, from ordinary trends in human behavior, that life would inevitably tend toward this state of constant connectivity and constant stimulation, with an eventual eradication of peace and privacy?

I used to like to listen to Damien Echols talk about all his occult learnings from his monastic existence in prison, and something he would say (he probably got this from somewhere else and I missed it) is that a prophet is not someone who predicts the future; a prophet is a person who understands the past. This made a lot of sense to me, that if you're sharp enough to see what generally happens, it's easy enough to see where things are headed. I think this is probably true of a lot of fiction we'd call prescient-- that if you look closely, it becomes clear that what it describes is sadly obvious.