#fic: i wish you would

[blythings]

I WISH YOU WOULD | TOM BLYTH

— pairing: tom blyth x filmmaker!oc (fem.) — summary: she thinks she is really, really smart unless it's about tom; and then she is really, really stupid. — tags: exes-to-lovers, named oc, attempts at humour, angst, depictions of anxiety, mentions of other celebrities, inspired by 1989 (tv). — status: ongoing. — notes: written parts will be marked with 🖊️

001. BAD IDEA RIGHT? 002. MESS IT UP 003. HARD TO LOVE 004. 005.

...

THE PUZZLE PIECES ⚠️ NOT IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER ⚠️

* .✫* are we falling in love? say yes or no. 🖊️

tag list: open — just lmk!

[rendevok]

Act I ~ The Prince

A tapestry for Let No One Sleep by @azalawa-scroggs on ao3

[milktrician]

(what the. who threw a wife plot device in the middle of a peak lord meeting)

i thought about this bit at the end of the airplane extras the other day. bro why are you looking at your coworkers like that rn

[otaku553]

New blorbo :)

Also a silly interaction with this piece

[poppy-metal]

MARRIAGE COUNSELING W ART PLEASEEEEEEEE GOD THE DEVASTATION THAT TAKES PLACE ON THAT COUCH

i think about it alot. tashi staying with patrick, her injury never happening. your arts college girlfriend and now you're married and it feels fucking stagnant, your relationship. but neither of you wants to give up. neither of you wants to reveal to the other true feelings.

under the cut because this got long and i have a whole au in my hear around this concept

you're only in counseling because of tashi. because shes still in your lives, her and patrick. and she recommended it to art when they were having one of their 'friend' lunches. and now here you are, because of course art took her advice.

he hasn't said anything, though. despite pleading for this. saying he wanted to save your marriage, that he wanted to love you how you should be loved but he didn't know how.

so here you are, on opposite ends of the couch, with the counselor staring at the empty space between you like that in itself is very telling. you suppose it is, in a way. couples who want to stay together should be unified, shouldn't they? you imagine how it would feel, if art had sat next to you. put an arm around you. squeezed you to his side. would you even be able to relax into him? its been so long since you touched eachother that way.

"so im picking up on some distance here," your therapist says. shes a small woman. almost swallowed by her chair. her glasses are perched on her nose as she gazes imperiously at empty space separating you and art. "not just physical either, though thats rather obviously there. but emotional distance. do either of you wanna comment on that?"

you cut a glance at art, expecting him to speak up since this was his idea - well. tashi's. but he just looks down at his lap, quiet. spins his wedding band around his finger.

you feel an anger so intense it pricks your eyes with tears.

"well, i guess you could start with the fact that coming here wasn't even either of our idea. it was his friends."

and now. here art speaks. his head jerks up and she shoots you an annoyed look. "you don't have to say it like that. you always say it like that. her name is tashi and she is my friend. and it was her suggestion, yeah, but it was a good one."

you look at the therapist - janet. raise your eyebrows in arts direction like, get a load of this guy. your legs cross and you start picking at a stray string from the couch.

"first words of the session and its to talk about another woman."

arts inhale is sharp and you can feel his eyes on you but you dont look at him. you can't. you wont. you're right, anyway. he can try to deny it all he wants but you know - you know what you are to him. you know where all your problems stem. you dont need to be here to make any grand discoveries over a fact you've resigned yourself too.

"i see." janet says. "and art having a relationship with this other woman upsets you."

"everything upsets her." art cuts in, sounding tired. his elbow is braced on the arm of the couch and hes chewing on his thumb in one of his nervous gestures. he always did that, as long as you've known him. he was a nail biter, he'd chew his lips raw, he'd nibble on straws, the ends of his pens. he was either lost in thought or agitated. your guess was the latter. "nothing i do makes her happy."

"is this true? are you unhappy with art?"

your skin feels hot. you shift around in your seat. the attention is all on you, and it feels like you've done something wrong, even though you know its literally janets job to ask questions.

"more like i know I'm not what he wants and that makes me...... really fucking sad."

art knees almost knock against yours as he turns his body to face you, giving you his full attention the first time today. you cant meet his eyes still, so you look at the faded spot on his jeans. light blue, like his eyes. you wonder how hes looking at you. cant make yourself look up to see.

"what." he stops. seems to gather some thoughts. tries again, with a steadier tone. "what are you talking about."

you try not to roll your eyes. your arm flings out limply.

"just that this whole thing is a joke, art." and you let out an exasperated laugh, even though nothing is funny. nothing has been funny or light between you two in a long time. "we're only here because the girl you really wanted to marry, told you to get your fucking shit together. you didn't ask us to come here because you wanted to mend something, you're here to please tashi. because if playing a good husband is a role she wants for you - well, you want to play it right, dont you?"

its quiet after that. in the silence you cant help but think about those early days. when you'd been full of love and light and art seemed to be really happy with you. you'd go on dates to the movies, walk through the park together with your hands swinging between you. laugh together and steal kisses whenever you could. you felt high back then.

it didn't even matter that art had a crush on tashi, because hell, you had one too, at the time. but she'd started dating patrick, and they seemed to mesh well together. they were both so intense and passionate. back then, you'd been alot closer to tashi yourself. patrick too. you remember the way she'd rant about how much she fucking hated him, pacing around your room and calling him every name under the sun. and you'd sit there with eager curiosity, and ask her why she didn't end it then. if he makes you so angry, why stay?

and she'd get this faraway look in her eyes. kind of wistful. kind of sad. kind of happy.

"because he makes me feel fucking alive. hes like a - like a drug or something. i cant quit. its addictive, you know?"

that stuck with you. it still sticks with you. you remember being envious of that kind of passion. youe relationship with art had always been so easy. you dont think you'd ever fought by that point. you loved art. you felt safe with art. but were you addicted to him? if you broke up - would you feel withdrawal symptoms?

sometimes you layed awake at night and thought about starting a fight - breaking up for no reason. just to see if he'd fight for you back, if the missing of eachother would be so intense one of you would cave.

but somehow you knew that wouldn't be the case. thats just not how you and art operated. if you got angry, he wouldn't rise to meet you, he'd back down. if you ended things, he wouldn't chase you, he'd let you go.

patrick and tashi were fire and brimstone and you and art was ice and you were....... dirt. solid. walked upon. dependable and not at all exciting.

when art had proposed to you after college graduation it wasn't spur of the moment as it had been with patrick when he'd swept tashi up with a ring and a elopement to vegas. it was talked about and agreed upon and you knew it was coming.

you still said yes.

"you think," and arts voice has a barely concealed tremble to it that makes you look up, finally. you're shocked to see he looks wounded. so many of his expressions you can count on one hand - and this - this wasn't one of them. his eyes are dark, stormy. "you think i dont care about our marriage beyond what someone else has to say about it? you really think that?"

you hate the sliver of guilt you feel, because its not a crazy thing to feel.

"yeah, i really do."

because well, that's the truth of the matter isn't it? you and your husband stare at eachother. and it feels like you're looking at a stranger. not the man who's freckles you used to kiss. who's fears you knew. who's hands you know every callous of, every divot and fingerprint.

"it seems you two have very different views of how the other views this marriage." janet cuts in, sounding curious. she taps her pen against the open notepad on her lap. "art, would you like to chime in on why you wanted to come here? even at the suggestion of someone else?"

art stares at you for a long moment. his face is unreadable to you. his jaw works before his chest expands on an exhale and he looks away.

"i guess i - i just didn't realize how..... stagnant things had gotten until it was pointed out to me. harshly." he winces, and you wonder exactly what tashi had to say to him. you haven't talked to the other woman for some time. contact fizzling out after your marriage to art. he flicks a glance to you, then away again. "im not the best at being aware of shit going on around me." his hand comes up to rub nervously at his neck. "i guess you could say im good at brushing things under the rug. going through the motions. that sort of thing."

janet nods like this makes sense to her. well, great, you think. you know my husband more than i do.

"you're not a fan of confrontation, are you?"

art actually laughs. a genuine one. one that brings a dimple to his cheek and flashes his teeth. you stare at it, like its an exotic animal, and you wont see it again. quickly you catalog the expression in your memory, so you dont forget what he looks like when hes happy.

"yeah, no." he shakes his head. "but I think thats part of the problem. I've obviously let too much shit get put under the rug and now its so full other people are noticing."

you look down at your hands, lips pressed together. your face burns at the knowledge that tashi and by extension - patrick - know your marriage is in shambles. how embarrassing, to be caught lacking in such a momentous way. to come up short and have your husbands friends know about it. you wonder - does he talk about all the ways you make him miserable with them? does patrick shake his head, say, "she's sucking the life out of you, man." does tashi look at him with pity? like hes some poor abused cat that needs to be let in from the rain?

the rain of your marriage.

the rain of you.

you're the storm. you're the problem. you're not enough. art needs fire. you're not even dirt, you're glass. and you can feel yourself breaking.

"that clearly hit a nerve, my dear." janets voice is soft. soothing. she hands you a tissue and you realize you'd begun to cry. "do you want to explain what you're feeling about what art said?"

"i...."

you dab dab dab at your eyes. sniffle. look around the room, trying to collect your thoughts. they feel like flyaway dandelions. you dont know which of them to grasp.

a warm hand settles over yours in your lap and you startle. its arts hand. warm and calloused and tan, covering yours. the gold glint of his wedding ring winks at you, the engraved words etched into them, "my soft epilogue". a shortened version of your favorite qoute i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love.

at the time, that's what art was to you. your life before him hadn't been easy. being with art had felt like coming home from a long day and falling into a soft bed. it had felt like being able to land after weeks of being made to fly.

you turned your palm up, so he could slide his fingers between yours. he squeezed your hand.

"i think, i. i think i just think - I'm a failure." your bottom lip wobbles. you look at your enterwoven fingers and it makes you so sad that you haven't done the simple gesture of holding your husbands hand in months. "the two most important people in your life are. are so passionate and loud. and i see. i see how happy they make you - and i cant - i cant b-be that for you. we aren't - im not - you dont need me. im not a limb for you how they are. you could extract yourself from me and be. be happier."

your breath shudders out of you.

"you don't need me." you echo.

you wait for him to pull his hand away. this is more than you thought you'd share. some of it you weren't even aware of till the words were spilling from your lips. but they ring true.

without patrick and tashi art would drown. without you..... he'd float just fine.

"and that's important to you." janet says. a statement not a question. "you want to feel needed by art, and you feel as though you aren't. that his needs are met better with his friends than with you."

you nod slowly.

"baby." the word sends a shock through you. not the word itself but how its said. art calls you baby all the time, in a monotonous kind of way. routine. now he says it softly. with feeling. he lets go of your hand in favor of cupping your cheek, still damp with tears, turning your face to his. he looks pained. "of course i need you. i know i haven't been good at showing it. i just - you shut down - after we got married. you've been like a fucking ghost. like you dont want me to touch you. like i could dissappear for all you care and you'd just carry on. i don't know. but i need you, okay? i. need. you."

both hands cup your face, he makes you stare right into him. the conviction in his voice takes your breath away. theres a fire burning there you've thought long put out.

"obviously we have shit to sort out, and we will. but you've got to. you've got to know that. tashi only pushed me to do this because she how - how desperate i was. that's all."

you inhale deeply. exhale. swallow hard. tears cling to your lashes. you reach a hand up to clutch at one of arts wrists. eyes fluttering automatically when you do. you feel grounded again. less like you might float away.

"okay."

"yeah?"

"yeah...." and you smile. it trembles across your lips. but its there. "we'll sort our shit."

art lets out a relieved breath. kisses your forehead, lingering there. the gesture so tender you get emotional again. you want to crawl into his lap, have him wrap you in his arms. you want to feel held by him, like you used to.

"our time is up." janet sets her pen down. smiles. "but i think that was a wonderful first session. i can see the love between you hasn't faded, and that's more i can say for alot of couples who come to see me. keep your chin up."

[bunnieswithknives]

Obsessed with his brain

[thatskindarough]

I’m not sure about anyone else but I personally have a pretty hard time finding Aziraphale centric fics. Crowley centric fics are really easy to find, stuff that splits C/A evenly is also pretty easy to find.

So I think we should start a thread of Aziraphale centric fics (or at least ones where he gets to take a major role in.)

I’ll go first:

These are the Soul by Mikripetra—This is my comfort fic I love it with my entire being.

Starmaker and Starlight by Nohaljiachi—This one just made me very happy then very sad. It focuses on Aziraphale before the beginning, coming to be friends with the starmaker (angel Crowley)

Prax In Terris —by Oatmeal Addiction I love this one because it captures the spirit of good omens perfectly. Genuinely if s3 was a fanfiction this (and the other fic in this series) is what I’d want it to be. Now it is not exactly Aziraphale centric, it does split time pretty evenly with Crowley and Muriel, but I love Aziraphale’s role in this, and he gets to be really interesting and stubborn. (Maybe not for all readers who dislike face value interpretations of the FF though.) It’s a wip about the second coming and I’m very curious where the author is gonna take it.

If you want, please feel free to add any Aziraphale centric fics to this post and also please shamelessly self-rec your own fics

(Edited to add the author names and also to say thank you for everyone recommending things, it makes me and I’m sure other Aziraphale fans very happy!)

[the-one-that-weeps]

Every time someone in this godforsaken fandom says "I think we've talked about misogyny enough" I want to hit them with a hammer. No we haven't.

We haven't even talked about the deep "Ruikasa&Akitoya Vs. literally everyone else" imbalance enough but imagine all of the people that get pressured into writing specifically for male/male ships simply because otherwise they won't get any appreciation.

Yes it's a cowardly thing but when you see Ruikasa having over 4000 fics and Ichisaki having like 5 in total obviously you're going to be discouraged. Obviously you'll be biased into creating Ruikasa instead of other ships.

And as someone who depends on appreciation in particular to do any work at all obviously that's going to have a lasting consequence. Some people spend 4 hours crying in front of a screen just for 3 people to like their work and leave, it's understandable if they lose passion for creating at all, you guys killed them.

It's even in how we handle m/m ships. You go into a fic that's tagged Rui&Tsukasa(platonic), someone in the comments always goes "okay but when do they kiss". You go to an action-packed longfic, someone always ends up going "okay but when do they kiss".

Fuck you guys. Actually. This is a silly piano tiles game about Hatsune Miku, we should be one of the MOST CREATIVE fandoms in history and somehow people still get mad over two boys not kissing immediately after getting introduced. It's so fucking difficult being a content creator in this fandom because you always end up having to take the same route. They meet they tease they kiss. End of story. "Oh you're doing something "lame" instead? -1 kudo. Bring me my yaoi next🖕"

[measurelessdreamer]

One of these scogan Post-X-Men: Days of the Future Past fics where Logan changes things so everyone from the original timeline is alive and he’s back at the school and about to find out somehow that he and Scott are a thing in this new timeline, but first, after Logan is done explaining himself to Charles, Scott is charged with showing him the way to his room and they talk sort of but not really and all of a sudden they both hear a very happy “Dad!” screamed through the hallway and they both turn and there is a little girl of age four (or more), smiling and running towards them and Logan doesn’t get it because he hasn’t seen her before and he had no idea a child so young could even be at this school and someone here is her father but who? Cyke himself? And he’s about tu turn to see if someone else is standing behind them when all of a sudden the girl slams herself against his legs with such force that it wavers his stance for a moment and surely she hurt herself just now because there is adamantium on his skeleton and there isn’t any on hers and she is only a child after all but then he looks at her and not only is she completely okay, she is also staring at him and she is smiling and as much as it doesn’t make sense, it slowly dawns on him and just as he is about to accept it, the girl lets him go and then hugs Scott, more gently but with no less amount of affection and Scott is affectionate right back but he is also trying to send her away. Only for a moment, though, so he can talk with Logan, and the little girl frowns and doesn’t like it but caves in when he promises to get her some ice cream and Logan doesn’t get it yet again and as if it wasn’t already bad enough, the girl finally smiles again and nodds and then she says, “Thanks, papa!” and runs back where she came from, leaving Logan so awestruck it feels as if he’s a mere breeze away from losing his balance.

Part II | Part III

[lovelesslittleloser]

Tbh this has been on my mind for MONTHS

Human codes… but they’re not actually codes??

A small group of humans is discovered by some curious aliens. Both sides can assume that the other is sentient. The aliens are trying to translate the humans’ language to their own, and the humans are trying to learn the aliens’ language. But since humans are tricky, they’ve decided that they don’t want the aliens to know their language, so they can have secret conversations.

So they go a little crazy. With written words, they randomly use lowercase and capital letters, even using numbers and symbols, and use a lot of slang, occasionally using words incorrectly on purpose. They’ll jumble the words a bit so that only human brains can guess their meaning (that thing where if you use all the letters and put the proper letters at the beginning and end it’ll be comprehensible), and even use additional or unofficial languages (commonly known words like ‘hola’, ‘si’, ‘oui’, etc, and piglatin, in which you typically take the first letter or syllable of a word, place it at the end, and add ‘ay’ to the end).

As for spoken words, they will do a bit of the above, mashing languages and slang, perhaps mispronouncing a few things, and quoting memes, vines, movies, and even singing parts of songs to throw off the aliens. Perhaps they will say something with a somber meaning in a joyful way to throw off the meaning, or even just naturally (‘I wanna die!’ ‘Mood’), or vice versa.

Additionally, there would have to be a TON of body language. Maybe even sign language, should they know any. Gestures and expressions, eyebrow wiggles and poorly-hidden grins. Ah, the beauties of communication.

[fan-goddess]

I wish you would write a fic where...Aemond forces a lady at court to marry him because she used to bully him when she was young, and he wants revenge. But the sexy kind lol

Authors Note: Oh my god I love thatttttt honestly I should write for a more darker Aemond tbh don’t know why I don’t. This is less bully more torment still I hope you like it

Warnings: angst, bullies, revenge, dark!aemond, mentions of rape, not direct consent, simp!Aemond, hinted at smut but none written, (if I miss any let me know!)

Taglist: @humanpurposes @watercolorskyy @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee

When Aemond first laid his eyes on the daughter of Ser Tywin Lannister, he had no idea of the thorns that lay hidden beneath the beautiful rose.

He would find himself staring at you whenever he could, but to his disappointment, like everyone else before you, you chose to spend your time with Aegon and his little duo of puppies that were his nephews.

When he trained with Ser Criston in the training yard whilst you sat in the crowd, he worked hard to try and ensure your attention. Though everytime he looked at you, your eyes never left his brother.

After training one day, Aemond left feeling dejected due to your unspoken rejection, and walked with his head held low to the familiar route of the library. He tried to take his mind off you with some old texts on ancient Valyria before the doom, and yet with every minute Aemond tries to concentrate on his studies he found himself thinking only of you.

It’s something he found himself doing a lot recently since the discovery of your existence. He thinks of your hair and how soft it must be to feel through his fingertips. He thinks of your eyes and how pretty they look whenever he catches your eye. He thinks about how loving your soul is and the warmth your kindness would be to feel against his skin.

Aemond has never felt like he had the soul of a poet, and yet one afternoon he finds himself writing about your beauty on some paper with a quill that had been previously left at the table he sat on.

To my lady sun,

How does it feel to know that your beauty radiates more than the sun, and to be its only envy? I am sure it is grateful for night so that it is not forced to compare to you, and yet even then the jealousy does not sleep, for now the moon must be forced to bear witness to your glowing skin.

Your body is a temple handcrafted by the gods, and I am sure they watch in anticipation for their greatest creation to walk amongst its divergent brethren. With how your head remains high, I am sure you must be aware of your own greatness. So no doubt these words seem meaningless. Yet I hope they spark something within you still.

With care,

a simple worshiper

It wasn’t very good, but then again, Aemond never expected to sound like the greatest poet of the seven kingdoms. He never expected anyone to read his letters ever. But of course, Aegon went snooping and found something that didn’t belong to him that he felt entitled to take.

“Did you really think she would love you?!” Aegon laughed, dangling one of the pieces of paper before Aemond while he tried desperately to grab it before you came and saw it.

“Why would she want a dragon less twat like you when she could have me?”

“What’s going on?” A very familiar voice spoke, a horror filled jolt going down Aemonds spine as he turned to confirm his horror. Lady Lannister stood there as beautiful as ever with your brow furrowed in adorable confusion, and your eyes trained on the paper still in Aegons greasy grasp.

“My little brothers turned into a poet my lady! Just look at what he’s had to say about you!” Aegon laughs while Aemond once more tries desperately to stop him. But with just a simple shove to the floor Aemond is weak and helpless as you take the paper in hand and begin to read.

And when you finish, Aemond feels his heart shatter into a thousand pieces as you begin to laugh at him.

“Did you think I would thank you?” You begin, that once delicate smile turned poisonous as you slowly make your way over to him still laying where he fell. “You were right about one think little Prince. These words are meaningless. But they’re especially so coming from a boy like you. Still, I must thank you for this little Prince, as at least I’ll have something to laugh at when I’m bored.”

Aemond feels the tears brim against his eyes and for the first time since falling he gets the strength to stand and run away. The sound of yours and Aegons cruel laughter echoing through his mind as he does, with a vow of revenge brewing behind it.

“My Prince regent, with this new position, there is a matter of marriage I must bring forward.” Lord Wylde begins, an edge to his voice as he knows the delicacy behind it all.

It’s been years since the embarrassment of his writings, and yet Aegon and you as well had made sure to bring it up almost everyday before you traveled back home. Whether that is by a memorised line from one of the pages or with seemingly innocent words with hidden meanings and a not so hidden smirk, Aegon and you had deployed them all to make Aemonds life miserable.

Aegon continued though long after you went away, and Aemond supposes that’s what made the act of burning him all that sweeter. To know the taste of revenge against one of the ones who hurt him was as sweet as honey against his bitter tongue.

“Borros Baratheon has four unwed daughters who-“

“I have made my decision already in who I should have by my side as my wife my lord.” Aemond interrupts, a ghost of a smile on his face as he thinks of the lady in question and watches the lords at the table furrow their brows. My my how fun was it to watch the rats fumble like a puppet show.

“And who is this lady my prince regent?”

Aemond smirks at Ser Tyland, who sits there unaware of what is about to occur to his family.

“I intend to marry your very own niece Ser Tywin. The young, and I am correct in presuming still unmarried, lady Lannister.”

Silence radiates through the council room as all attempt to process the news Aemond has just released to them, while Aemond himself is just sitting there like the dragon who ate the hatchling.

“My Prince regent, I-it is an honour!” The man stutters out, knowing if he didn’t say anything it would be much more worse for him.

“As it should be Ser Tyland. Tis an honour to be wed to a member of house Targaryen. I trust you to be the man to call for your niece, but please, do not tell her the reasoning. I wish for it to be a surprise that I myself shall tell her, if you would do be the honour?”

“Of course my Prince. I shall write to her soon as we finish this meeting and request for her to arrive the beginning of the next week.”

Aemond would’ve preferred her to arrive on the morrow, but he supposed he shouldn’t be too picky. You’re coming back to him. That’s what he chooses to focus on.

The rest of the week though he waits in anticipation for your arrival. He thinks of you constantly, but unlike him as a boy, he doesn’t write these thoughts down on a paper. At least Aegon can’t steal his thoughts.

Aemond though must confess he is anxious about seeing you. The last time he had, you’d embarrassed him and made him feel worthless. But now, he is no longer that scared little boy who you tormented. Now, he is the Prince Regent of the seven kingdoms. And he has the power to take what he wants and do what he wants.

And what he wants is to take you. He has a plan on what he wants to do, and he thinks of it every day since that council meeting.

Aemond Targaryen wants to defile you and leave you with nothing. Perhaps he’ll even force you to be married to some old lord who’ll use you for a boy or two. Or send you to the citadel and make you become a septa. It all depends on how he feels at the moment he supposes.

Yet on that first day of the new week when he’s standing in the courtyard and seeing your golden carriage pull up, sick anticipation curls and builds in his gut like a fearsome storm.

“Little prince?” You say as you get out of the carriage, sending Aemonds inner storm into an all out raging war.

“That is Prince regent to you little lion.” He snaps, relishing in the way you frown at his words.

“Where is my uncle? In his letter he said it was of upmost importance and to come with haste to Kingslanding today.”

“Ah yes little lion I know of the letter he had delivered to you. I was the one who requested it to be sent. Let us go somewhere more private so we can discuss it.” Aemond purrs, walking forward so he can get his hand on your lower back and lead you into the keep.

You do not protest to his sudden demands, yet still he finds humour in your confusion still.

Aemond as he walks makes sure that servants and ladies alike see him leading you to a room with no chaperone. Or more specifically, see him leading you to a room with a bed.

“What is it you wish to tell me, my Prince regent?” You ask, emphasising the title just to tease him for sure.

“I wish to congratulate you my lady!” He smirks, watching your face further contort in confusion.

“Congratulate me? Congratulate me on what?”

“On your marriage my little lion of course.” Aemond finally reveals. He watches your face turn in its final form, and he’s delighted to know your fire has not been yet destroyed when fury takes over your entire body.

“Who?” You demand.

“It’s me.” Aemond simply says, watching with even further delight what that once dragonlike flame instantly vanish for cold hard horror.

“You?”

“Yes. And I shall take my wedding present now I think. I believe it is what I deserve for what you did to me all those years ago.” As he speaks, Aemond begins to slowly prowl towards you like a predator stalking its prey towards the bed.

“That was years ago!” You shout, looking at him in shock.

“And yet I never forgot what you said.” He simply says, pushing you backwards so with a yell you fall backwards on the bed and look at him with fear in your eyes.

Good, he thinks, you should be scared right now.

He wants to make the oh so proud Lannister she lion be reduced to a mere mewling kitten, and all by his hand alone.

“I suppose I must ask,” he begins, leaning forward and forcing your body to be pressed against his own. “Have you had anyone touch you? Just by looking at you I can think your maidenhead has been given to some poor impressionable lad thinking only with his cock.”

You stay silent initially, but he has ways of making you talk. Including but not limiting to him using his dagger that was strapped to his side to tear your dress from your body.

“Just a stable boy…” You finally confess, gasping as Aemond moves to firmly grip at your upper thighs with a growl on his own lips once he forces the delicate fabric away to reveal you to him.

“Tell me his name.” Aemond demands, his singular eye firm as he forces you to look at him. “I shall rip off his hands and his cock myself for dare touching what is rightfully mine to claim. For what was meant to be taken by me all those years ago.”

“Are you saying you’ve thought of me?” You attempt to tease, only realising your mistake when he answers with a serious tone.

“Of course. I have thought of this moment endlessly. The idea of me ruining you for all has always delighted me, just as much as the idea of actually fucking you does to me.”

And with that, whether you called for him to stop or keep going, he continued with his plan. He ravished you senseless committing the sound of your voice to memory. The guards outside he had posted in order to bear witness to your taking also most likely memorised them, but he’s comforted by the fact he’s going to kill them by the end of the week.

His mother yells at him later that day about how selfish he’s been and how much like Aegon he is being. But the thought comforts him when he thinks of what Aegon had and what he now possesses.

The crown. The people. The power.

He has it all and he’s able to throw it away at the drop of a hat.

From what Aemond has heard, after he had announced to the entire court he would not be marrying you due to your broken maidenhead, you were condemned back to casterly rock and are being prepared for a marriage to a lord from the stormlands named Riordan Rael.

Form what he has been told, Lord Rae is an elderly man long since due for a meeting with the stranger who has yet to father any children from his other past seven wives that have all tragically died young.

Aemond does not care for you anymore now that his revenge has been thoroughly completed. Even if he has had several letters in the last moon detailing the fact you had given birth nearly two months early to a babe with hair as pearly as the moon.

For the power is all his, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. Not unless they want to be put to his sword and taste his Valyrian steel.

[blythings]

MESS IT UP | TOM BLYTH

— pairing: tom blyth x filmmaker!oc (fem.) — summary: hope that you're sleeping well knowing i'm not. — tags: exes-to-lovers, named oc, attempts at humour, mentions of other celebrities. —notes: can you tell from this instalment that i miss nicholas galitzine's social media presence? lol anyway i'm still getting used to this format so forgive me if it's a bit clumsy! lmk what you think of this chapter 💞 also, comment/send me a msg if you'd like to be added to the tag list!!

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liked by rachelzegler, balladofsongbirds and others tomblyth HG film dump. Just some of the many people I love who breathed life into this movie. @/songbirdsandsnakes opens tomorrow 🤍 lionsgateuk this film has already become my entire personality rachelzegler i love you sweetheart user White boy of the month 🤩🤩 user pls go blonde again im so serious tom please TOM PLEASE user New crush unlocked 🤚🏻

liked by taylorzakharperez, treaclychild and others alexisnakamura Past few weeks ⏯️ mari.arai i think nick should change his profile pic on raya to that so people can know what they're getting into ↪ user NICHOLAS GALITZINE IS ON RAYA???!!!! ↪ taylorzakharperez @/mari.arai so real ↪ alexisnakamura @/taylorzakharperez @/mari.arai guys stop bullying pookie under my post user YOUR BACK??! I’M GOING INSANE 😩 user hey (with rizz) user can you announce your next movie queen i'm due for a personality change user i need to be in the alexis nakamura cinematic universe saur bad

liked by user, user and others tomblythfans old 📸 of tom with director and screenwriter alexis nakamura! user LMAO TOM IN THE LAST PANEL user oh tomblythfans dug for gold here ↪ user fr they must've combed through the internet bc tom and alexis deleted all traces of each other from their socials user does anyone actually know the timeline i'm so curious ↪ user it's none of our business ↪ user so? they're in the public eye and it's natural for fans to be curious ↪ user just because they're in the public eye it doesn't make it right to speculate ↪ user LMAOO get off ur high horse. nothing wrong w celebrity gossip

liked by filmupdatesmain, kaiagerber and others alexisnakamura missing the rockbridge fam 💋🌈 user fumbled the bag so bad by breaking up with tom right before he becomes a big deal in hollywood lol ↪ user she's literally a famous director? bye ↪ user making a mean comment still gives her clout bro user someone @ me when deuxmoi finally posts the tea btwn her and tom ↪ user i did a deep dive last night and i reckon she dumped him while he was filming tbosas ↪ user LMAOOO that wouldn't surprise me, she's way too close to her male actors it's actually kinda problematic ↪ user i think tom is better off honestly, alexis is talented and her movies are good but she seems like a lot of work ↪ user fr i feel like sometimes she puts on a persona to seem more relatable

[angiiiiexx]

This pic is literally the foundation for all of my Wu and Lloyd headcannons and fics (ideas)

Them and their bond are so very special to me. Wu as the father figure. He literally loves Lloyd like a son. Just them

[anonymouscheeses]

I'm gonna be shitting and screaming and starting fights if Sera becomes a villain. I can't take sibling angst, Sera loves Emily I swear guys believe meeee.

[lesbianwyllravengard]

I love wyllstarion because Wyll is one "Astarion admits all of his weird ass fantasies about things Wyll could do to him in bed but never would in reality" conversation away from realising his full potential as a monsterfucker and unlearning his catholic levels of guilt.

[least-carpet]

Maybe a chengxian' meeting post-canon? Platonic or romantic, as you prefer

100 years later, I have given up and concussed Jiang Cheng in the name of love and yunmeng shuangjie reconciliation. You know, if it's not working, give it a smack!

-

This wasn’t precisely the way that he had imagined this reunion going, reflected Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng lay across his lap, blood smeared dark against his forehead, face illuminated by a streak of moonlight.

Not that he’d imagined seeing Jiang Cheng again. Well—not on purpose—sometimes it crossed his mind, when he saw Jin Ling out of the corner of his eye. Something about the posture was very like Jiang Cheng as a teenager, if a little more brash and impulsive. Jiang Cheng had always been more hesitant in public, aware of the eyes on him.

Anyway, it had occurred to him, mostly against his will, when he saw Jin Ling or he smelled the sword oil Jiang Cheng had favoured (still favoured?) or someone mentioned Lotus Pier. He’d flung it away each time for some future version of him to deal with. Now the future was here, and it sucked.

Wei Wuxian squinted at the ray of moonlight. At least they wouldn’t be suffocated. The section of the cave they were trapped in had at least one opening that went up to the outside world.

They had tracked a very strange yao back to the cave where it lived, him and Lan Zhan and the juniors, and crossed paths with a Jiang team led by Jiang Cheng himself following the same kind of yao. Unfortunately, it seemed that they lived in packs. The resulting fight had gone badly. An over-eager hit from Lan Jingyi had smashed one into the wall, and that had triggered a cave-in, and now Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian were alone in the dark together behind an enormous pile of rocks. On top of everything else, Jiang Cheng was unconscious, which Wei Wuxian really did not like.

The only thing he could think of to do was prop Jiang Cheng up in his lap and wait for him to come to. He didn’t know what Jiang Cheng would make of it when he woke up, but Wei Wuxian decided that he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

Jiang Cheng groaned and opened his eyes. “What happened?” he asked.

Wei Wuxian looked down at his face, and winced. Those pupils were not supposed to be different sizes.

“You took a hard hit to the head,” said Wei Wuxian, as cheerfully as he could. “Just stay still, will you? Rescue is on the way!”

He assumed, anyway. Lan Zhan wouldn’t just leave him here. He was very reliable like that.

“Rescue? Why the hell are we being rescued? What did we do this time?” complained Jiang Cheng. Something about his voice tugged at Wei Wuxian. It was less assertive that it usually was, tired, almost—whiny?

“You don’t remember?” said Wei Wuxian. This was bad. This was very bad. “There was a yao. Actually, there were quite a few yaos…”

Jiang Cheng let out a disapproving little huff. Distantly, Wei Wuxian noted that he had made no effort to get up from Wei Wuxian’s lap.

“If we’re late to dinner again, A-jie will be upset,” he mumbled.

Wei Wuxian froze. This was very bad indeed.