#his best friend trying to sacrifice himself AGAIN

[tys-kitty]

Matthew Fairchild in CHOT - a summary

[peachysunrize]

Labyrinth ⥃ Aemond Targaryen

Summary: falling in love is easy for most people, but not for Aemond Targaryen. How can a broken cold-hearted man be able to love the most gentle human Westeros has ever seen?

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, very very gentle, angst angst angst angst!!!, humiliation, reader is Daemon & Laena’s oldest daughter, no description for reader (besides white hair) you can imagine her however you like, Aemond is a vulnerable & insecure baby girl, like he is really really insecure, mentions of murder, fluff, nightmares, chronic pain, mentions of Aemond’s injury, anxiety attack, babes are in looooove, English isn’t my first language<3 it’s very heavily plotted and the smut is at the end of the story.

Word count: 11.5k (she's so long but worth it)

a/n: I’ve always wanted to write something with this kind of trope, especially when it’s from the man’s pov, and there’re so little fics that get into the depths of Aemond’s pain and suffering so I needed to try and write something that says his part of the story as well! Please please tell me your opinions and favorite lines of this piece! I’ve worked sooo hard for this fic and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Reblogs and comments are appreciated<3🩷

A very special thank you to my babies, @namelesslosers & @neptuneiris for beta-ing and supporting my ideas😭🫂✨

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?”

Aemond watches the scene unfold in front of him; his mother seeking justice for him, slashing Rhaenyra’s forearm with the dagger in her hand, spilling her blood in fury.

He looks around the room, finding you scared behind your grandfather, looking at him with wide teary eyes. He scowls when he sees how you look at him with pity, thinking he is a deformed monster in your eyes, to his best friend’s eyes.

You leave the hall in a rush, and he scoffs at how unbearable he must look for you to go in such haste, allowing this injustice to wreck his world and him to cope with the aftermath alone. How could you leave him like that? What happened to all the hours he helped you build that stupid sandcastle next to where Vhagar lays? Did you forget every moment, every laughter you had together?

He stands up and walks to his mother, telling her that Vhagar is worth it. But is it true? It might be worth gaining the largest dragon alive, but in the back of his mind, he thinks about how he has lost you.

No, you left him, he hasn’t done anything wrong. He is the one with his eye in a tray, he is the one who needs tending to for the first time, and you left him while he and his mother were humiliated by Rhaenyra and her bastards.

The morning comes sooner than expected, the milk of the poppy knocked him out immediately last night. He walks down the stairs where his family is gathering to leave, his mother holding Helaena’s hand while god knows where his father is, probably saying his goodbyes to his daughter and Princess Rhaenys. 

Aemond moves toward the hill that Vhagar is sleeping on, catching the sight of you waiting for him next to the sandcastles he helped you build yesterday after your mother’s funeral.

“What do you want?” he asks, standing in front of you, trying not to frown too much to loosen his stitches.

“I-I wanted to ask how you were doing…”

“After leaving me all alone? You were my friend! I needed you and you left me! And you ask how I am after I got my eye cut out?” He shouts at you, waking up Vhagar from her drowsy nap.

“I-I don’t have any excuses, but Aemond, please—” “No, I hate you! I hate your stupid hair, your eyes, your laugh, even-even your sandcastles! They are so childish and-and ugly!” “I know you are upset with me, and I’m so sorry for what happened to you, but please let me—” “No!” he yells at you again, marching toward the castle next to your feet before he stomps all over it, screaming and crying while he ruins the perfect sculpture he himself has made for you.

“Aemond…” the sob that wrecks through you makes him stop, but you are not looking at his feet, you are looking at his face, crying for him. He doesn’t spare a glance at you when he walks to climb Vhagar’s saddle, but guilt overwhelms his emotions and dread fills him.

You just wanted to talk, and he treated you so poorly even if his anger was justified.

Oblivious to him, as soon as he and his family were gone, you ran to your grandmother, crying in her arms and begging her to allow you to study with Maesters, in hopes that someday you may help your childhood friend with the pain he will carry for the rest of his life.

•••••••••••

Jacaerys’ name day, another pathetic excuse to have his sister and her pups in the capital under the same roof, drinking and wasting the crown’s money. He can’t blame them though, they’re desperate to get on the lords’ good sides by showing off their heritage, going with songs and praises for the heir after his mother.

Unnecessary, stupid… 

Aemond groans, running his hand over his face as he wakes up with the sounds of banging in the hallway. He knows that they’re arriving today, and he’s aware that the royal chambers should be ready when his sister makes a face, but to wake him up at such an early hour after the rough night he had should have severe consequences.

With another deep groan, he sits up on his bed, looking at the sea from between the sheer curtains of his room, watching the sunlight shine bright on the surface of the water, Sunfyre and Dreamfyre already taking turns in the sky over the city.

He stands up, looking down at the soaked undershirt he had on during sleep, exhaling deeply as he pulls the fabric off, slamming it down on the couch as he walks to the balcony to get some fresh air. The morning breeze hits his sweat-covered chest, stinging the empty socket of his eye.

He knows he should go back inside, to cover his scar and avoid pain from the cold wind, but the contrast of the coldness of it on his heated skin is soothing his mind, calming his beating heart. He will regret it during the day, but for now, after experiencing yet another nightmare, he needs to feel alive again.

As soon as the sharp pain starts from the depths of his skull, he moves back, shutting the door and pulling the curtains closed. He stands straight, his nails digging inside his palms as he controls, or tries to control his breathing. 

It always starts like this; a sting, then another one but sharper, then a minimal pain that surrounds his scar, and finally, the stabbing pain all over his face followed by the worst headache someone can ever endure.

He reaches for the nearest surface he can lean on, knuckles turning white as he keeps his weight up, trying not to fall on his knees just yet.

He can do it, he has done it countless times.

Aemond steadies himself on his feet before he sighs shakily, walking towards the clothes his mother’s servants laid down for him yesterday. It is a simple outfit; a leather tunic with black pants and a fresh beige undershirt. Nothing too fancy, and nothing less regal that a prince should wear.

He takes his time while getting ready, allowing the phantom pain of his eye to fade away slowly. Before he can button up his tunic, his chamber servants come running in, putting a bowl of water with a warm towel on the side desk while they prepare his breakfast. He covers the left side of his face with his hand so as to not scare them with the unbearable sight of the empty space in his face.

He watches them with a sleepy gaze as they clear the room, slamming the door behind them. Aemond sits in front of his mirror, taking the brush in his hand to untangle his unruly hair.

There are no thoughts in his head as he stares blankly at his reflection; he hates his scar with a passion that could set the realm on fire. There is no gentleness in his features, everything is sharp, angular, and rough. There is no trace left of the boy he was before his nephew took out his eye.

Doomed before he could even try to become someone worthy.

He ties his hair, revealing more of the healed wound and the dark empty socket on his face. Sometimes he gets stuck inside the labyrinth of his head, running and running until he reaches the middle, but it’s never enough. At the end of the maze, someone drops dead; whether he kills them or they kill him. There is no escape from these dreams, from these self-destructive thoughts that haunt him day and night.

He reaches for a box on the vanity, pulling out the sapphire gem before reaching for an ointment Maester has given him to help the gem fill his eye socket without pain.

He looks at himself again; he looks less like a brute, the gem adds to his beauty but in his mind, it’s not enough, it’ll never be. He sees his brothers, healthy and handsome, being subjected to women’s attention all the time, and sometimes he wishes desperately to be in their place, to be able to talk to a lady without frightening her. But he has learned that a maimed man is less worthy than a whore in Streets of Silk, so he exercises and trains daily to become worthy again, to live up to his Targaryen name. There are deep yet little scars adorning all over the skin of his hands and arms — a reminder of how he has become the man he is.

He eats his breakfast in silence, tension rising in his shoulders as the smoke of the candles on his desk reaches his eye. He drops his spoon on the table, blowing the candles out before he reaches for his eyepatch.

He has told everyone that there shouldn’t be any scented candles in his rooms, but as it seems no one ever pays attention to what he has to say, not even to help with the pain of his eye.

He stands up, knocking a few plates on the table to the floor, smearing fresh fruits on his carpet. A deep groan rumbles through his chest, but he can’t care less about anything other than the fact that he needs to join his family in the throne room — and he does after he grabs his dagger and secures it in his belt.

“Ser,” Aemond nods at his appointed guard, earning a ‘good morning, my prince’ from him. Aemond walks down the stairs with his head held high, scoffing at the servants who make a path for him hurriedly, trying to avoid being seen by him or see him.

The bustling of the castle is irritating; everyone is running from one corner to another and decorating the keep for their princess’ arrival. He is not annoyed that he has to reunite with his sister and nephews, but because he has to endure their presence for longer than necessary, to look them in the eye and act civil as if the pain he copes with already isn’t enough torment from them.

He nods at Ser Cole, who follows him into the crowded hall, eying everyone who is waiting for the Realm’s delight. Aegon and Helaena are standing side by side, his sister is clutching Aegon’s arm tightly as the crowd makes her feel small under its gaze. His mother looks at the throne silently, and he can see the hesitation in her eyes — how are they going to go through these weeks of celebration, they have no idea.

“Good morrow, Mother,” he whispers as he stands behind her, his eye softening at the small smile she gives him, “you look radiant this morning.”

“Hush you, sweet talker,” she chuckles lowly, rubbing his arms lovingly, “have you heard about the Velaryons’ arrival?”

“Lord Corlys is coming as well?” he asks, shifting on his feet nervously, his fingers tightening slightly on Alicent’s elbows, “I did not know…” “Neither did I, darling. They shall arrive at the same time as Rhaenyra, at least I know Daemon’s eldest will.”

“Driving on dragonback, obviously,” he mutters, sighing shakily. 

Alicent notices his hesitancy, she gently cups his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eyes, “Do not project your anger on her, she was but a child.”

“Yet she kept silent that night. She was supposed to be my friend,” he says, looking away from his mother, lowering his head in shame, beating himself for letting his emotions take hold of him.

“Give your courtesy and leave if you wish not to talk to her,” Alicent smiles sadly at Aemond, patting his cheek before they both look at the doors of the hall.

Something in his guts drops when he sees Rhaenyra entering, her family walking towards them, all smiling and laughing as if they aren’t going to experience the most dreadful weeks of their lives. 

“Your grace,” Rhaenyra says, trying to break the visible tension between the families. The crowd goes silent, and the only thing they can hear is the soft exhales of the people close to them, everyone waiting with bated breath to see what happens in a few seconds.

“Princess,” Alicent smiles, “welcome back to your home,” she replies politely, giving Daemon a half courtesy before she congratulates Jacaerys for his eight-and-ten name day.

“Aegon…”

Aemond looks away from his sister as she acknowledges them all, instead his eye finds Daemon’s who is staring back at him with a smirk on his face. Aemond’s gaze doesn’t waver, and Daemon chuckles at that, giving him a challenging look.

He looks back at Rhaenyra who says his name, giving him a forced smile before she turns around quickly and asks for the King.

“He is quite unwell, he shall join us in the evening,” Alicent explains, telling the maids to make haste and set the garden ready to start the celebrations; nothing too fancy for the noon, a tea gathering in the garden to reunite everyone, or at least to make sure the court has something to gossip about.

Aemond follows them slowly, taking time to observe each and every one of them. He can’t shake the uneasy feeling that settles in his chest as his eye finds Lucerys Velaryon, laughing and looping his arm with Rhaena. He looks away immediately, lips forming into a sneer as he walks with his hands behind him, grinding his teeth while he thinks about how he was robbed of everything good because of that bastard, because of the hideous scar he gave him.

The garden is filled with new bushes; roses, lilacs, daisies, and surprisingly winter roses. The sight would have been quite beautiful if all this fuss wasn’t for his nephew. He walks away from the crowd, making his way toward his siblings who are trying to appeal content with the events. Helaena is in her own world, lifting a worm from the ground as she counts its feet. Aegon is gulping down his wine while he listens to Daeron telling him about whatever book he has read these past few days, or at least he seems like he is paying attention.

Aemond sighs, grabbing a goblet of wine himself to nurse on it as he tries to distract himself from the chilly wind that hits his face. Luckily the eyepatch covers his eye socket fully and doesn’t let the cold breeze hit his scar, but the tension in his bones has remained from the morning rush of pain he experienced earlier. It’d be best if he left this pointless gathering earlier anyway.

“How are you faring this beautiful morning, brother?” Aegon asks him, grinning sarcastically. Daeron groans in response, even though the question wasn’t meant for him. Everyone can tell he is fed up with Aegon’s constant teasing of Rhaenyra’s family coming back to Red Keep.  

“Well enough to know I will be leaving in a few minutes,” Aemond replies, sipping on his wine as he catches Luke stealing glances at him. Pathetic, he is too scared to even look at him properly, he is glad though, it gives him a sense of comfort to know the mark he has left on his face scares him enough to keep him away from him.

“Can’t do that! It’d be rude if you left without saying hi to our favorite Velaryons.” Aegon smirks, tipping his head back as he laughs at Aemond’s sneer.

“As much as I hate to say this, but the idiot is right; you can’t give them more reasons to resent us,” Daeron says, looking at his older brother with kind eyes, “besides, they are here anyway.” he points at the passageway leading to the garden, catching the sight of Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys walking side by side toward the crowd.

Aemond’s heart stops for a second when his good eye lays upon you, following your grandparents with a gentle smile grazing your lips. You are a sight to behold; silver hair falling around your shoulders like curtains of moonlight that shine bright like a diamond beneath the morning rays of sunshine. Your gown the bluest of blue that shows your devotion to your mother’s house, and your lips painted pink in the most alluring way… 

Aemond’s eye sees a sight his mind can not comprehend, too unreal and beautiful that makes him doubt if he is seeing you with his sapphire eye through the patch.

His face is blank, but his heart is beating so fast he can hear his pulse in his ears. His eye follows you, watching you bow before his mother and sister, looking away immediately to find your sisters already giddy to hug you. Rhaena is the first to run to you, wrapping her arms around you while Baela approaches you slowly, letting her twin have her moment with you.

He doesn’t move from his spot, he can’t move even if he wants to; he’s struck between shock and something he can’t pinpoint; he can only say for sure that he hopes it’s a rush of adrenaline of not seeing you for so long.

The only time he looks away from you is when Daeron pats his back and encourages him to join everyone to say hello and welcome your family to the Keep. He doesn’t need to say a word, just a nod at both Corlys and Rhaenys is enough, but when you turn around to greet him and his siblings, his breath gets stuck in his lungs. 

You look at him from beneath your lashes, beaming so radiantly at him that he almost forgets the pain in his eye or the pain he has caused you the last time he saw you. The world around him fades away, the noises become distance as his sky-blue eye finds yours easily, and he has to swallow sharply while he desperately tries to keep his face stoic and serious and not show you how he is panicking from inside, palms sweaty and lips drying while he gazes at you, his childhood friend who… suddenly the bubble around you breaks and he remembers how you abandoned him that night at Driftmark.

“My lady,” he says in a hushed tone, watching your reaction closely.

“My prince, it’s so good to see you again,” you grin at him, “I hope you are doing well.”

“As well as a half-blinded man can do,” averting his eye from you, he regrets the words he said immediately, flushing a bit in embarrassment, but when he looks back at you, your smile hasn’t left your face, if anything you look at him with empathy and much kindness that he has a hard time believing you are real; it’s been too long since anyone has looked at him with such sincerity.

“Darling,” Daemon steps closer to them, ruining the moment for Aemond to say something, anything to take back what he said earlier.

He watches your smile wavering a little when you look at your father, hands fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. He notices how you try to ignore your father and Rhaenyra as they approach you, a tense smile on his sister’s lips while she tightens her grip on her husband’s arm.

“We have missed you, the girls, and I,” Daemon says, reaching to caress your hair as gently as the Rogue prince can, “you did not visit us at Dragonstone.” “I don’t like it there, the castle unnerves me,” You reply softly, “I rather enjoy the silence of grandsire’s castle.” “You are a Targaryen, you should visit your ancestor’s sit,” Rhaenyra tries her best to persuade you to think about coming back with them, leaving your lovely grandparents alone.

“I’m a Velaryon just as much as I’m a Targaryen, but ‘tis not a matter we should discuss at such a joyous day, don’t you think, princess?” you say, and Aemond sees it in your eyes how desperately you wish for the conversation to end. Aemond watches his sister’s words falter, her confidence crumbling with each word that you utter. Your statement is not rude, not even filled with malicious intent, but the mention of your Mother’s side of the family makes the Targaryen couple uncomfortable.

“I would have loved to stay and talk with you, Father, but I’m afraid the journey on dragonback has left me starving. Please, excuse me,” you nod at them before walking past them to the corner where Aemond and his siblings were sitting minutes ago, reaching for a glass of wine to gulp down.

Aemond doesn’t spare a glance at the couple, following you closely so he can sit in silence and out of the sun, truly not wishing for another fit of agony that consumes his skull.

“You have grown, Aemond,” you sit beside him, turning your head to look at his side profile, “no longer the child who used to build sandcastles with me when I would visit the Keep.”

“Yes, no longer a child with friends. Spending years apart without any contact, surely you are not that surprised how I have turned out to be,” he scoffs at your words, frowning when he turns around and finds you chuckling gently, “Did I jest about something I’m not aware of?”

“No, no, I just remembered how we promised to never let anyone break us apart, but you were the first who did so; you stomped your feet on my sandcastles the morning after my Mother’s funeral. You are right though, no ravens were exchanged, but I do hope you’re still the sweet prince who helped me study.” your lips twist into a small smile.

You are not angry with him, how can you not be angry with him? You had spent hours after they freed your Mother’s soul into the sea to find the perfect place to build your sandcastles and he ruined them the morning he was about to leave.

Your teary eyes have haunted him from that moment to this day.

“I apologize, I did not wish to remind you of that night,”

“I’m reminded every time I look into a mirror, do not concern yourself.” his reply is curt as he gazes at you, your eyes full of sadness and sympathy for a man you no longer know. Or maybe you know him too much, he thinks.

“I look forward to spending time with you, my prince. I hope we can catch up on each other's lives.” “Perhaps we can,” he sounds unsure of himself, Getting to know you again while you have turned into a woman grown — the most beautiful woman he has ever seen at that — is going to be a challenge he does not know he welcomes or fears greatly.

•••••••••••

He leaves sooner than he should, hiding in his room with a warm towel on his face as he soothes the pain of his eye, the headache he had since morning finally fading away. There are so many thoughts lingering in his head, and ironically, they are all filled by you; your gown, bright smile, and gentle personality.

He groans, so frustrated that he has met you a few hours prior yet you have consumed his every thought. If he focuses hard enough, he can see the labyrinth of his nightmares, the hedges are covered in ivy, suffocating as they reach for air — he thinks of him as the hedge, and how easily he has let you wrap yourself around his thoughts this quickly.

Weak, he thinks to himself, he’s weak.

He sits up, dropping the towel in the bowl on his nightstand, breathing deeply as he looks around his dark room, spotting a lit candle on his desk in the corner.

Sometimes it baffles him how his room represents his inner self so openly; it’s not messy, no, but if you squint you can see the abandoned book in the foot of his chair, ink dripping from his pot on the carpet, the candle illuminating the trail of black paint on his desk. It seems as if his room is showing the ugly part of itself to his eye, and for a second he thinks about how he sees himself — an ugly monster with an unsightly scar.

Aemond leaves his room a few minutes after fixing his eyepatch and hair, walking to the king’s solar to join his family for dinner. He walks with his hands clasped together behind him, looking straight to avoid eye contact with anyone who sees him on his way up the stairs. He doesn't expect to see you of all people, heading out of your room to take the same path as him.

“Aemond!” You say his name with such enthusiasm that has his heart racing again, beaming at him as if you are excited to see him. How could you be this giddy to meet him? No one has expressed to be happy to spend time with him, let alone smile at him the way you do. Is this an act of modesty? It has to be, he thinks, or else it does not make sense at all.

“My lady,” he bows his head politely, “How come you are late for such an interesting gathering?”

You giggle a little, walking side by side with him, “I was spending some time with Helaena’s children. Oh, they are such sweet babes!”

“Indeed they are,” he replies quietly, watching you curiously as you round him to stand on his good side, “what are you doing, My Lady?”

“I did not realize I was on your blind side, Aemond, forgive me,” “There is nothing to forgive,” he sucks in a harsh breath, pondering over your response for the rest of the way til King’s solar. The silence is oddly comfortable even though he gets a bit nervous when you keep glancing at him. 

There’s an unusual warmth spreading through his chest, he can’t understand it — it can be his heart since it’s beating too hard and fast, or perhaps even his lungs! He can’t even breathe properly, but at the same time, he feels… right, much better than before. He blames you for the conflicted emotions, it’s all your doings, he is sure. Because whenever he looks at you, he feels as if his clothes are suffocating him, his ears ring while the world fades around him, and the center of his world becomes you.

Weak, worthless, he has just met you, yet all these years apart seem blurry to him, as if he has known you since the age of the Firstmen; so familiar and comforting, even though you left him alone the night he needed you the most.

The guards open the door to the solar, and Aemond follows you inside, his eye wandering all over the room, taking his surroundings in. His mother and Rhaenyra are sitting at the table, his nephews are standing on their mother’s side while Aegon is trying to listen to whatever lecture Otto is giving him.

He watches you walk to your sisters, wrapping your arms around Baela and Rhaena as they both start talking to you about the things they have done during the past years you’ve been Lord Corlys’ ward in Driftmark.

“You’re staring,” Daeron says out of nowhere, pulling Aemond out of his thoughts but he doesn’t look away, he keeps his eye trailing on you until you turn around and catch his eye as well, smiling broadly at him.

“I am merely observing,” he replies, but knows his brother is right. It’s only the first dinner but he can already feel his eye itching to be on you again.

“Whatever makes you happy,” Daeron shrugs, leading him to Aegon and Helaena to sit down.

He finds an empty seat next to him, thinking Daeron is the one who’d sit beside him, but when he sees it’s you who reaches for the chair, his heart leaps to his throat before he composes himself quickly, pulling it out like the prince he is.

You give a smile that is worth countless gold dragons, and for the second time today, he questions if the sapphire is a magical eye, because the world turns a bit brighter and less dull when he looks at you. He sits next to you, his eyebrows twisting into a deep frown when he sees Lucerys at the other side of the table engaged in a deep conversation with Rhaena, playing the role of the happy family quite well.

Everyone stands up when the guards bring in the King, everyone except for Helaena but neither she nor Aemond pays any attention to others. One is busy playing with her hairpin, and he is busy admiring your ethereal face as you kiss the king, your uncle’s cheek, thanking him for having you and your grandparents in his home after so many years. As soon as Viserys sits behind the table, you take your place next to him again, giving him a small smile before you turn your head to listen to what his father has to say. 

He knows what his father is about to say; first, he thanks them all for coming, paying special attention to his grandsons and Rhaenyra while he lies over and over again about how much he loves them all, how they should never let the House of the Dragon fall into ruins, oblivious to the fact that not Rhaenyra nor Alicent were the ones who broke the family into different agendas, but it was him who started the flame.

Tonight, Aemond doesn’t look at his sister to attend to her. His eye is solely on you, taking in the shape of your lashes kissing your cheekbones, carving the silhouette of your nose and lips in his memories. He looks at the way your lips curve into a grin, cheeks forming into the most beautiful shape he has ever witnessed.

You turn your head a little to glance at him, catching him red-handed while he tries to play it cool, but he finds that he is not powerful enough to look away from your blown-out pupils and the orange hue that’s cast on your irises softly.

He breaks the eye contact, a scowl forming on his face as he reaches for his goblet of wine, nearly throwing the goblet across the table when he hears Lucerys laughing at the two of you.

You beat him to it before he could open his mouth, “Is there something funny, Prince Lucerys?” your voice is so soft and slow, almost humiliatingly sweet, and funnily, it terrifies Luke. 

Aemond smirks as he watches his nephew stuttering over his words while everyone around the table sits in uncomfortable silence, waiting for the young prince to say something, anything.

“I was surprised by how fast Uncle Aemond took a liking to you, given his looks and all,”  he explains, sarcasm dripping like honey from each of his words.

Fucking bastard, Aemond thinks to himself as an ugly sneer sits on his face. As much as he wants to leap toward him and cut off his tongue, he can’t — not when you put your hand on his over the hilt of his dagger.

Your skin is so smooth atop his calloused one. The way your fingers wrap around his wrist sets his body on fire, burning the skin in a way unknown to any man, but this is no ordinary burn; there’s no trace of fire, no long-forgotten ashes of his bones are visible, instead his fingers twitch for more, begging for more skin to skin contact, but he pulls his hand away from you without looking away from Luke’s blushing face.

“Your words are mean for no reason, Lucerys, given how it’s been your doing that has caused Aemond his scar,” you say, “I find him quite handsome actually. He was my beloved friend when we were younger. There are, of course, many feelings between us. Nothing has happened out of the blue for you to mock him for.”

“I-I apologize, good sister, I wasn’t…”

“It is not me who you should apologize to, it’s Aemond. I have taken no offense on my behalf but I do believe you owe him an apology.” You explain, sipping from your glass slowly while keeping your eyes on Lucerys.

No one, not even the King has the strength to intrude into the situation, maybe in doubt of saying something to hurt you, or perhaps you’re just speaking the truth, and for once, everyone fears your gentle mannerisms.

“I apologize, uncle,” 

Aemond’s stare is blank as he looks at Luke who’s chewing the inside of his cheek in embarrassment. He nods, not bothering to reply to him; he will never forgive nor forget what he has done to him, crushing his hopes and ruining his worth for a lifetime.

“Let us put our differences aside, and become a family again,” the king says, coughing before he reaches to drink from his cup. 

The dinner goes smoothly from there and to Aemond’s surprise, he engages in more conversations with you. He does not talk too much, he’d rather listen to your giggles and stories rather than talk about his boring and miserable life.

His eye always lingers on you for far longer than it should, not in an inappropriate way, but more in a sense of intrigue and curiosity, trying to understand you from his perspective. He simply can’t though; you are worlds apart. He is a cold-hearted, broken, and worthless man when it comes to your bright and beautiful personality. Even if he gets to know you again after so many years, he would never think himself worthy enough to be in your presence.

“Aemond…?” you call his name oh so sweetly, making him feel as if he is on top of Vhagar, flying atop the city while the wind blows in his hair; it makes him feel alive.

“Yes, My Lady?”

“Are you alright? You look quite flushed,” You smile sweetly, reaching to put the back of your hand on his cheek, flustering him even more than he already is.

“Yes, yes, I might have had too much wine,” he doesn’t know who he is trying to convince; you or him? By the sound of it, it’s him who needs to be convinced that it’s the wine in his blood and not the same unknown feeling he gets when you look at him. No, it is definitely the wine. It has to be.

“Oh, well then, I wish to spend more time with you if you are not against it,”

“Why would I be?” he asks almost too quickly, making you chuckle at his… enthusiasm. If he can even call it that.

“Then I’d be overjoyed if we could rebound what we had as children.”

•••••••••••

After the dinner, something between you and Aemond shifted; he spent more time outside his room, he was calmer and less serious, and the pain in his skull was almost gone. You joined him in the library a few times in the next few days, meeting each other at your door to attend the meals side by side, and almost everyone could feel how he was changing the longer he had you close, almost turning into the little boy he once was.

Both of you forget your last interactions as an act of mercy for the other.

With your insistence, he agreed to miss the tourney being held for Jace’s nameday to sneak out of the castle and take you to the beach. He did not need much convincing, but when you gave him those doe eyes with a little pout on your lips, he felt weaker than he ever did and gave in immediately.

Aemond helps you down the rocks near the shoreline with your small hands in his, taking cautious steps down to not trip over and hurt yourself. He keeps his eye on your feet instead of his, worrying more about you than himself even though he is stepping down with his good eye on you, not looking where he is going.

That seems to be a bad decision, because the next second, not only does his foot miss a small rock, but yours slips on one too, tumbling into his arms as the two of you fall on the soft sand, Aemond’s arms wrapping tightly around your back to keep you steady.

He looks at you, panting as his eye widens at the closeness; your faces are inches away from each other, and he can feel your soft rushed exhales on his lips. You look like a goddess atop him, the sun illuminating your silver hair, reminding him of the last sennight when you arrived and your hair made your face shine even brighter.

He has never seen such a beauty before, sure he has seen the ladies of the court, but your Valyrian beauty combined with sunlight and the blue hue of the sky has him mesmerized, not realizing how his hands are gripping your waist while he stares at you.

You giggle at first, then break into a fit of laughter while you lean more into him, dropping your forehead on his shoulder as you laugh wholeheartedly.

He chuckles lowly at first, then matches your laughter and throws his head back, holding you on him by one arm while the other comes to run over his face. 

“I have never heard you laugh so freely before,” you say after you have calmed down, putting your palms on either side of his face while you hover over him.

“I don’t remember having a reason to do so,” he replies, smiling up at you.

“I’m glad that I’m able to bring joy to your life, you deserve it.” leaning down, you press a gentle kiss on his cheek before standing up, smoothing down your skirt.

He is at loss of words, speechless to his core. He deserves it, he thinks, do you truly think a monster like him deserves any chance of happiness?  How are you not disgusted by him, his scar, his sour and mean tongue? How can you ever leave a butterfly kiss on someone as unworthy as him? 

He looks at you from where he is staying lying on the sand, watching as you extend your hand to him, rocking on your heels in anticipation so you can go and wander on the beach and reunite with the sea.

He grabs your hand, standing up on his feet as well. There is sand in both of your clothes, but you have just begun your venture and won’t stop until you are satisfied.

You don’t let go of his hand when you start jogging, pulling him with you as you giggle in delight. And he observes you as he always does; wind in your hair, waves crashing against the shore while your laughter fills the air around him. He doesn’t realize his smile has widened and he is following you just as excited, letting the sand and the sea separate you from the outer world.

“You promised you would make a sandcastle for me!” you say, pulling him behind you to the spot where you would sneak away as children, sitting down to get to work.

“I did not,” he replies, unbuttoning his tunic so he can stay under the sun without being bothered by the heat.

“Fine, you did not. But you ruined the one we built together at Driftmark so you owe me one!”

He chuckles at you, his dimples on display as he shakes his head, “Alright, I will make one for you.”

It took you a good few hours to finish the sandcastle; it could have finished much sooner if you hadn’t thrown wet sand at him, cleaning your dirty hands with his white cotton undershirt just to annoy him — and it worked. In a second, he was chasing you around the beach with hands full of wet sand curved into balls, throwing them at you.

And here you are now, fingers laced together, shoes in one hand as you both walk on the shoreline, letting the waves cool your feet. You point at the sunset, leaning on his side when you come to a stop to watch the sky change color as the sun goes down.

Aemond on the other hand, looks at your calm face that is glowing under the pink and orange sunlight. How did he get so lucky to be blessed by such a beauty to lay his eye upon? Maybe he truly deserves this unknown feeling that spreads through him like fire and makes his fingers tingle and his heart beat in happiness. Maybe he deserves to be loved by you and love you unconditionally in return.

You turn around, dropping your shoes before you reach up to cup his cheeks. He closes his eye and basks in the attention you give him; so unique and pure. He drops his boots as well, arms circling your waist to pull you closer.

Aemond doesn’t dare to open his eye, fearing that he might ruin this perfect moment as you trace the lines of his lips, his cheekbones, and his jaw. You are so gentle with him, something he is not quite used to. It has always been him, alone in a cold room, but now and here with you, he feels as if he can breathe again, and forget every pain he has endured to reach this moment of his life.

“Open your eye, My Prince,” you whisper before you peck the corner of his lips, pulling him in so you can rest your forehead on his.

He obligates, sighing shakily when he finds you already looking at him. Your gaze is so genuine that somehow scares him, a rush of destructive thoughts comes into his head, but you seem to notice it from how his hands shake on your waist.

“Don’t think about anything, just… just focus on me.” 

He does as you say, his brain shutting those annoying voices at the back of his head down as soon as your nose brushes against his, your soft lips brushing over his so endearingly. He is hesitant at first but when you peck him again, he moves forward as well, meeting you halfway until his lips are locked with yours.

You taste as sweet as the strawberry cakes you had this morning, if not sweeter. The way your lips move together makes his head hazy. You are kissing his breath away, leaving him begging for more. His chest moves up and down quickly when you break the kiss, and you caress his thin swollen lips, bruised by your kisses and lack of air, while he admires you from head to toe.

The sun has set, but the glimmer of love has risen inside of Aemond’s broken heart.

•••••••••••

A kiss here and there, more sneaking around the castle and to the beach until the main event for Jace’s birthday arrives. He is in his mother’s solar, listening to her talk about how lovely you are and how much of a wonderful couple you would make with him if only you weren’t Daemon’s daughter.

“Mother—”

“You should dance with her tonight, my darling!” Alicent says, running her hands over his arms when he stands up and approaches her, “I have heard Daemon has plans of betrothing her. Obviously, he has yet to find someone suitable, but he is thinking about it.”

Aemond’s heart drops when Alicent says your father is looking for a suiter, fortunately, Alicent sees his surprise, shock, and fear. She reaches to cup his cheek, forcing him to maintain eye contact while she talks, “Don’t let her go if you truly wish to have her. I know that she would stand strong against her father and Rhaenyra, but she would need your support and love as well to feel brave enough to turn down a good match.”

“They would make her happier than I can ever do, Mother,” he replies, his voice breaking slightly. Losing you terrifies him, and he is aware that his mother can read him like an open book, shushing him while he inhales sharply.

“I have never seen her happier than I have with you, and I have never seen you this happy and lively, darling. Be selfish for once, choose your happiness this time.”

“How can I choose my happiness over her life?!” he asks harshly, frowning at his mother.

A knock interrupts Alicent before she can respond, and the guards open the door for you to step inside the queen’s room.

“Oh, I apologize, it was not my intention to interrupt you.”

Aemond seems to be struck by your beauty; your body is wrapped in a teal-colored gown with a low neckline that leaves your shoulders and collarbones on display. Your silver hair is braided with some parts of it pinned up, some strands framing your bare neck.

“You look so beautiful, my darling,” Alicent says, nudging Aemond a bit forward when she sees how he is looking at you.

“Thank you, my queen. You look very beautiful as well,” you look away from the queen, smiling when he approaches you slowly, “you said you were going to wear something close to this color and I decided it would look quite good to match. How do I look?”

“Enchanting,” he breathes out, reaching to hold your hand, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “You look breathtaking, My Lady.”

“So do you, My Prince.”

“Shall we then?” he offers you his arm and you accept without hesitation, looking back to see if the queen will come with you and she assures you she will come with the King.

“You said you were going to retrieve me from my chambers for the party,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you walk toward the great hall.

“I am deeply sorry. Mother wanted to have a word with me,” he explains, dropping a quick kiss on the crown of your head.

“Is everything alright, Aemond?” you ask him, and he chuckles at how adorably your brows twist into a frown in worry. “Yes, darling, she merely wished to remind me to make sure you have a great time tonight. You are our special guest.”

“Does that mean you will dance with me?” you ask, holding his hands in yours before you reach the hall.

“We shall see,” he brings your hands to his lips again, leading you toward the hall, bowing and nodding at the ladies and lords who take it upon themselves to greet you.

You come to a stop in front of the table, Rhaena coming to hug you and twirl you around, gasping at the sight of your beautiful gown, gasping even louder when she sees how your dress matches Aemond’s tunic.

A ghost of a smile finds its way on Aemond’s face as he watches you get flustered at your sister’s attention to details, but soon, his eye hardens when he finds his uncle glaring at the two of you. Tonight will change the course of so many lives.

He watches you laugh with your sisters, pointing at the empty chair next to you so he would sit close by all night. With one last glare at his uncle, he walks to his seat and pours wine into his cup, blushing a bit when he hears you laughing again. You are not even laughing at something he has said and he is the one who gets flushed.

He is knee-deep inside these new feelings but he welcomes the challenge with open arms. Or at least he tries to do so without Daemon being an obstacle to his plans. 

He looks at you when Rhanea and Helaena pull you to the dancefloor for the new song, pairing up with different lords to dance with, but what catches his eye, isn’t who you are dancing with, but more than who Daemon is talking to. He recognizes the lord to be from the south, probably a Tyrell, and when his uncle and the lord look in your direction, he knows something is not right, an uneasy feeling settling deep in his stomach.

He watches the lord closely as he makes his way through the crowd to get to you, bowing and introducing himself before taking your hand to dance with you. He can see how uncomfortable he is making you, probably discussing his sick desire to have a wife and kids while he dances with a Targaryen-Valeryon goddess.

“Stop glaring and do something!” Baela slides into the seat next to him, hissing the words at him while she keeps her eyes fixed on you as well, “I don’t like you, I will never like you, but you make her happy. Do something before our father ruins her life because of Rhaenyra.” “I thought you liked your stepmother,” Aemond chooses to ignore most of the things she said.

“It’s Rhaenyra’s schemes, please, Aemond, my sister deserves to feel appreciated. I have never seen any lord take an interest in her the way you have. You are the only thing she could talk about in the last few days. I will beg you if I have to.” Aemond turns his head toward Baela, letting her words calm down the hesitancy he has toward courting you. There are far more handsome men than him in the court, yet, he is the one who is blessed to hold you and kiss you, to gaze into your eyes and see forever in them.

He hisses when he feels a sting in his skull, not now, no. The pain can’t start now. He gulps his wine before he nods at Bela and stands up to walk to the crowd in the middle of the hall, catching your eyes for a second before he has to bow and start the dance with a lady he does not care to engage in a conversation with.

He thinks about how much he has changed in a few days; there will always be a part of him who thinks he’s not worthy of your affection, that you can do better than him, but also the thought of you in another man’s arms sets his skin ablaze. He is torn between keeping you all to himself or letting you have a wonderful future with another guy who can stand by your side and make you proud, who is not maimed and scarred like him.

Luckily, everyone needs to change their partner and he reaches with his hand to grab yours and pull you to his side, grinning when he hears your delighted shriek. “My Prince Aemond,” you say, squeezing his hand while the two of you twirl around the room.

 He doesn’t wish to say, but the tempo is too high for me, and it worries him that somehow he might make a fool of himself or you if he trips over someone’s shoe on his blindside.

“Lady Targaryen, you look like a Valyrian Goddess, my beloved.”

“Why thank you, my good prince. I have to say that this color truly brings out your beautiful eye,” you reply coyly, tipping your chin up while you bite your lip.

“You are playing with fire, darling.” he leans down to whisper in your ear, pressing a feather-like kiss on your earlobe without anyone noticing.

“I’m a Targaryen, Prince Aemond, fire is in my blood,”

“Is that so? Well, I must say—”

He doesn’t know what happens, or how it happens, but in a second he can’t see you when he twirls you around him, and suddenly, the weight of your waist isn’t in his hand anymore.

“Aemond!” you fall down by his feet, and he sees that his boots have caught the edge of your heels, making you twist your ankle in the wrong way and causing your fall.

What have I done?

What have I done?

I dropped her.

I did this.

What happened?

His eye has widened in fear, and he is frozen in place, hands shaking slightly as he feels the crowd around you look in your direction, staring and gaping at him before the hushed whispers start to fill the room.

“Aemond, look—”

He can’t look at you. He will never be able to live with himself for humiliating you in the way he did tonight.

Stupid, weak, useless good for nothing, Aemond. If another lord was dancing with her, he wouldn’t have dropped her. A prince but less worthy than a common whore. 

With trembling lips, and a pain blooming in his eyesocket, he dashes out of the room, leaving you on the floor. 

His vision is blurry, the pain is getting worse and the air is stuck in his lungs. He can’t breathe, no, he doesn’t deserve to breathe. How can he when all he wanted to do was to dance with you but ended up hurting you? How could he hurt you like this? 

He skips the steps, running to his room while he groans in pain, the stinging is getting stronger, the agony in his nerves is spreading through his skull and it only gets worse when he opens the door to his chambers to find not only scented candles but the windows and the balcony door is open as well.

“You are dismissed!” he shouts at the guard before he slams the door shut, “Ah!” He tumbles down, gripping the nearest chair to keep himself on his feet at least before he falls on his knees, clawing at the eyepatch to pull it off as if it’s burning his skin.

The pain is like a dagger, stabbing him over and over again until even his knees don’t have the strength to keep him up. He falls on the floor, curling into a ball while the pain spreads through his face, and he finally breaks down, bursting into tears from agony and humiliation. If only he wasn’t in pain… if only his eye wasn’t cut out…

Aemond doesn’t hear when the door opens, nor he can see who the person is. Tears have flooded his vision, but as soon as he feels your soft hand on his arms, trying to help him sit up, he flinches, backing away from you while he gasps for air, feeling his tunic clinging to his sweaty body. 

“Aemond, please let me—” “No, no, no, no…” he stands up hurriedly, walking to the balcony on unsteady legs to get some air in his lungs, only to be met by a freezing wind that makes the chronic pain in his eye even worse. He drops to his knees again, this time the sounds of his gasps and painful yelps are louder than before.

You rush to his side, kneeling in front of him to cup his cheeks, kissing his clammy forehead before you wipe his tears away gently. He lets you touch him this time, too exhausted to utter a word, to push you away even if he has to.

“It’s going to be okay, Aemond, let me help you,” You help him on his feet, making sure to have your arms wrapped tightly around him while he leans his weight on you, trusting you to take care of him, even though the voice in the back of his head is telling him to push you out of his room.

“Gently, my love, gently,” you help him lay down on the bed, pecking his cheek again, rising to get the smoke out of the room but his hands shot up and grabs your forearm tightly.

“Stay, please,” he whimpers, his beautiful eye tearing in pain.

“I will, my dearest, I just need to blow out the candles and close the windows, and I’ll be back in bed with you.” You reach and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss upon his knuckles before he lets you go.

He can’t see you clearly, but your shadow moves from side to side frantically, blowing the candles on the balcony so the smoke won’t get inside again, shutting the windows quickly so the cold wind doesn’t bother him anymore before you come to bed again.

You unlace your gown, taking it off so you can tend to him more easily, pulling at the few pins inside your head to let the strands fall freely around your shoulders. You climb onto the bed, a jar of his salve and ointment in hand with clean rags in your other as you sit comfortably next to him, helping him take off his tunic and pants.

Aemond lies on the pillow on your lap, sniffing as you look at his face; bare and raw of emotions with his sapphire glinting in the low lights of the room.

“My love, you need to help me pull the gem out,” you whisper, almost sound scared of him, or scared of what you might see.

“No, it is an unbecoming sight—”

“Nothing about you is unbecoming. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on, and for you and your suffering, I begged my grandma to allow me to study about your condition with the Maesters,” you lean to kiss the bridge of his nose, “the skin around your eyesocket is swollen, if we do not pull it out now, it shall make it more unbearable for you.”

He hesitates for a moment. While he would love to ask you about why you studied something so gruesome because of him, he can’t help but feel so wanted. The pain is getting worse, sure, he has to pull the gem out anyway but to hear you say how you have begged Rhaenys to let you partake in those classes, to maybe someday help him with his pain… that truly makes him feel fuzzy all over.

“Alright…” he whispers, gritting his teeth in pain as he reaches out with his fingers to grab the side of the gem, pulling it out slowly while he groans and the pain nearly knocks him out. “Shouldn’t we use something more—” “Take it out, take it out—I don’t care how!”

You nod, tears falling from your eyes as you watch him writhe in pain more as the two of you pull his sapphire out, leaving a heavily swollen and empty eyesocket on display. His hand falls limp on the bed while you drop the gem into a clean bowl before pouring some of the ointment on a rag, gently holding his face in one hand while the other daps slowly over the scar and his ripped eyelids, pressing a few kisses here and there to soothe his whimpering.

He clings to your arms and waist tightly, letting his tears fall freely while you soothe his pain away, falling into slumber easily beneath your gentle touch.

•••••••••••

He is running.

Where is he? Why is he running?

He looks around him, finding himself in the labyrinth he always sees in his dreams.

The hedges are covered in ivy, the walls have gotten taller and the paths are thinner.

What’s this smell?

He steps closer to the source of it, taking different routes until the smell gets worse and stronger. He knows where the center of the maze is, he has been here countless times.

He turns around, finding the space of the labyrinth of his dream, but he doesn’t expect to see you there, not while standing with your nightshift covered in maroon, hands dripping with thick droplets of blood as you look at him horrifyingly.

“Darling, are you alright?”

“Don’t- don’t come closer,” you say, taking a step away from him.

“I don’t understand, why—” “You did this to me!” screaming at him, your hands cover your heart, and he finally sees how your chest has been ripped open and blood gushes out of the wound.

“I was not here—”

“You did this to me! You hurt me, Aemond!”

“Aemond!”

“Aemond!”...

He jolts up, gasping for air, hands clutching the bedsheets as he experiences another nightmare. He looks at you, finding you awake and alarmed while you rub his back, eyes filled with worry and pain for him.

“You should leave,” his voice is barely above whispering, his nails digging into the palms of his hand while he blinks his tears away.

“Aemond—” “I will only hurt you, why don’t you understand?!” he asks, raising his voice a little. 

He is torn between needing you to wishing you were gone; he can’t cope if he ever hurts you again.

“You have not hurt me, you won’t hurt me.” “I killed you in my dream! You fell in front of everyone and twisted your ankle because of me, I humiliated you! How can you say I won’t fucking hurt you? I have already done it.” He explains, but instead of pushing you away, he welcomes you when you pull him down into your embrace, holding his head tightly in your neck as he sobs uncontrollably.

“It’s not your fault, I should have been more careful. I won’t let you ruin yourself for something that was a mistake on my behalf.” you kiss the side of his face, rocking him from side to side while he calms down eventually.

“Don’t push me away, I love you, Aemond. Let me be here and help you carry this heavy pain with you.”

He doesn’t reply, but his arms tighten around you.

He looks at how you lay back on the pillows, gently pulling him in your arms until he is lying in your chest while you play with his hair.

“Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

•••••••••••

He opens his eye slowly when he feels someone caressing his hair, pressing butterfly kisses all over his face. Smiling a little, he finds you admiring him in his sleep, taking notes of every line and deep of his skin.

“It’s very rude to stare,” he says, his voice thick and raspy from all the crying he did last night.

“Not when he is my lover,” you whisper back, nuzzling your nose against his, “you look like a fairy when you sleep.”

“No one has ever told me that. How do you come up with such unique ways to describe me?” He leans over, pressing a kiss on your shoulder while he waits for you to answer.

“You are a wonderful muse for poetry, I shall start writing about your hair and eye!”

He keeps his lips sealed to your skin, sucking and nibbling until he is satisfied with the marks he has left. His pupil is blown out with a newfound lust; how can he not desire you when you are lying in his arms with your wild white hair plastered over his pillows?

“You are staring,” he chuckles at how breathless you sound. He hasn’t even begun to do anything and he already has you melting under his touch.

“Can you blame me? I have the most exquisite lady of the realm in my bed.”

“What happened to the insecure boy I held last night?” You ask while leaning up towards him, pushing him down on his back so you can straddle his narrow hips.

“It’s still here with us in this room, but he has begun to heal. You have helped him when he had no one,” his palms rest on your thighs.

“I need you,” it comes more as a plea, but Aemond obliges and flips the two of you over, hiding his face in your neck to prep it with kisses while he whispers that he needs you too.

“I love you, darling,” he whispers, craning his neck to catch your lips in a kiss, moving them together with a rhythm that encourages him to take the next step.

His hand inches downward, pushing past the fabric of your underwear to find you already wet for him.

“I-I have already lost my maidenhand…”

“I don’t care, I have you now,”

He silences your whine with another deep kiss, his fingers circling your clit until you are squirming and bucking your hips into his palm, your arms pulling him in by the shoulders.

He breaks the kiss, watching you take a deep breath when he pushes one digit inside while he tugs at the front of your shift, pulling it down until your tits are on display. He covers your chest with marks and bruises the same time another finger enters you, making you gasp loudly in pleasure.

He stretches you on his fingers, thrusting them in and out slowly at first, but soon he is speeding up, his patience running thin as he scissors you open not roughly to make it hurt, but to make sure you are ready to take him.

“A-Aemond, please, need you closer,”

He nods because he too can feel the need to become one with you, to take you as his, or more so you take him as yours.

His breeches are thrown on the floor, followed by his undershirt immediately as he takes home between your spread legs, one hand holding him up while the other guides his throbbing cock to your entrance. You both gasp in union when his tip nudges past your muscles, pushing in slowly and gently until he is sheathed inside you completely.

You throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist while your nails dig into his naked chest as he lets you get adjusted to his size.

“Can I move?” He asks, leaning down over you as he cages you beneath him, both of his forearms holding himself up against the pillow under your head.

You nod, looking at him with pleading eyes, and he finally caves in and moves slowly; pulling his hips back a little before driving in.

The next minutes pass by him gently making love to you, circling his hips and kissing you, bringing you closer and closer to your highest point. You know you both are close when his groans and moans grow louder, and your voice matches his tone as he quickenes his pace, the loud sounds of skin slapping against each other echoing in the chambers of the prince.

You both finish together; you with a gasp of his name, and him with a loud groan of yours as he fills you and you gush around him. He trembles above you, whether it is for the climax he experiences or the overwhelming love he holds for you. 

He watches your face twist in pleasure — the pleasure he is giving you — and he memorizes every sound, counting each lash that he can while he himself rides his high with you.

He drops face down on the bed next to you, both of you trying to catch your breath as you look at each other with a satisfied expression on your faces.

“They would ask about our whereabouts if we are late for breakfast.” You say, giggling when he groans in absolute disgust — he is not ready to leave this room and face the world again when he knows he can stay and take you again, thrive in your attention and love for all day.

“Must you ruin this moment for us? Now I can only think about how to face your father after what we did.”

“You should look him in the eye and ask for my hand,” you sit up, throwing the cover off of you before getting off the bed “and you shall do it with the braids I do for you,”

“You are impossible,” he says, but he knows that behind his words, there is no hidden intent, nothing but adoration and playfulness.

“Come, sit!” You pull him off the bed as well, leading him to his vanity before pushing him down on the chair, both of you stark naked as you brush his hair slowly.

He looks at himself in the mirror, and for the first time in years, his reflection doesn’t disgust him, it doesn’t scare him or make him self-conscious. He feels… beautiful, he feels worthy again of having this life, having you as his.

“Do you wish to know what I see when I look at you?” You ask him, letting his soft hair fall around his shoulders before you lean down, wrapping your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He nods, hands coming to cover yours where they caress the skin above his heart.

“I see a broken man who needed to be saved. I see a boy, fierce and strong as he claims the largest dragon alive. I see my friend who danced with me in different gatherings, my beloved friend who built sandcastles with me and helped me with my Valyrian studies. I see my Aemond, finally freed from the labyrinth of his mind.”

[sanjisprincesswifey]

pros and cons

summary: the good, the bad, the ugly, perfectly curated into a pros and cons list

♡: reupload (but better now), some nsfw content is listed; MDNI, includes all characters with indications of a female reader!

black leg sanji

pros:

constantly wants to color coordinate your outfits together

let’s you pick meals at minimum once a week

very good kisser (he practiced with his pillow a lot before your first date)

he wants you to walk him like a dog

sanji never lets you forget how much you mean to him

always remembers important dates, birthdays, anniversaries, etc. 

remembers the little things and notices your absence (will often go to try and find you)

adapts to whatever love language you respond to 

cons:

the nicotine smell embeds into your sheets and clothes and is a pain in the ass to get out

yells for any minor inconvenience

occasionally too handsy

always finishes before you

major jealousy issues

is constantly horny

says he’s fine but he’s dying inside

doesn’t understand the concept of alone time and takes it personally if you ask to be by yourself

roronoa zoro

pros: 

the best napping partner

protective

is a softie but only with you

very emotionally intelligent 

gym trainer boyfriend

let’s you take the relationship at your own pace because he can’t be bothered 

loves to mark you and give you hickies

always makes sure you finish first 

cons: 

stinky (bro smells like sweat and steel)

does not have a single romantic bone in his body; you’ll literally have to teach him how to be a boyfriend

is extremely blunt 

snores super loud 

might fall asleep while you’re talking

you can no longer be friends with sanji 

doesn’t ask you to date him, just assumes you are together

gets upset when you can’t keep up with his drinking

monkey d luffy

pros: 

the best hugger 

extremely loyal to you

hides midnight snacks for both of you

lets you sit on the ship’s figurehead with him

king of silly sentimental gifts (hand-picked flower, cool rock, pretty seashell, that sort of thing)

always makes sure you’re included in conversations

shares his favorite foods with you

can always make you feel better

cons:

doesn’t know how to be quiet or whisper

never lets you win arguments

throws himself at you with no regard to his strength

no concept of personal space

rubs his boogers on you

accidentally makes fun of the noises you make during sex

will steal blankets from you while you’re asleep  

points out your pimples or zits 

usopp

pros: 

always finds a way to make you laugh

grows flowers for you

comforts you if you’re insecure

handmade gifts!!!!!!

brags about you to everyone

loves to show you off and tell stories about your adventures together

names special attacks after you

always lets you in on the pranks he pulls 

cons: 

is insecure

would sacrifice you to an enemy to protect himself

shows you bugs even if you’re afraid of them

incredibly awkward with all your firsts 

clammy hands

make jokes during arguments (it makes you madder and the cycle continues)

never tops

sometimes pranks you too 

cyborg franky

pros:

is always telling you how hot you are

can literally build/make you anything you desire

romantic (can be corny sometimes though)

so flirty with you

human refrigerator; occasionally lets you store things in there

introduces you like this: “and this is my super smokin’ hot girlfriend, OW” to anyone who will listen

protects you during fights

king of reassurance

cons:

messy

never wears pants

slaps your ass too hard since he’s half metal

dad jokes 24/7

you can’t compliment him without him doing a montage of poses

difficult to cuddle with (again he’s made of parts)

always busy fixing something on the ship

is constantly asking you if he can make you a cyborg too

nami

pros:

lets you take a few of her tangerines

immune to her reprimanding when something bad happens (most times)

extremely thoughtful gift giver

shares her money with you

cares deeply about you (don’t point it out though because then she’ll stop)

is always telling you how pretty you are

very good in bed

is more lenient with your allowance

cons:

pawns gifts you get her

bad communicator

critiques everything about you

can and will distance herself from you

charges you if you piss her off

talks about vivi way too much for having a whole other girlfriend

doesn’t apologize after fights even if she caused them

bullies you (with love)

nico robin

pros:

leaves you notes in books to find later

the voice of reason in your relationship

notices and compliments you on every little change you make (haircuts, style change, etc.)

extremely good listener

literally a human search engine; so smart you can ask her almost any question and she knows the answer

passionate lover; treats you like a god in bed

soft lips

spoils you in every way that she can

cons:

can make you feel dumb with her endless knowledge

will never say ‘i love you’ first

always tops (a possible pro depending on your preferences tbh)

has nightmares almost every night ):

closed off in the beginning of your relationship

franky hits on her (and you) all the time

rather be reading than with you

takes your relationship extremely slow

portgas d ace

pros:

can heat food up for you at any time day or night

loves pda

plans fun dates

probably says ‘i love you’ a million times a day

into body worship (both ways)

kills bugs for you

walk him like a dog, sis !

never says no to you

cons:

sweaty and greasy in the summer

farts and gives you a dutch oven

doesn’t take anything seriously

adhd moments

mommy AND daddy issues

likes to lay on top of you even though he’s huge and basically crushes you

talks with his mouth full

is loud in bed (because he enjoys it so much) and everyone can hear when you two have sex

sabo

pros:

another body worshipper

dragon claw fist. need i say more?

the best secret keeper

praises you

would actually bow down to you

very respectful, asked you to kiss on your first date

awkward but sensual lover

a loyal puppy

cons:

loves being right

sore winner & loser

cocky ass mf

talks about luffy and ace 24/7

never on time

bad temper

might catch on fire if he’s mad

loves to tease you (again, could be a pro depending on your preferences)

shanks

pros:

buys you anything you could ever want

good kisser

always showing you off

treats you like a queen

calls you his wife

very affectionate in public

another worshipper; does that thing where his kisses lead up from your hand to your shoulder

when he gets drunk and you try to kiss him, he pushes you away and says “get off me, i have a wife”

cons:

gets you riled up during the day

teases you all the time

can be unreliable

bad at flirting

drunk all the time

still makes jokes about his arm even though it’s been YEARS

lingering alcohol smell

pervert

trafalgar law

pros:

rarely cooks but always does for you when you’re sick

smells amazing all of the time

lets you do this eyeliner in the morning (based off this fanart)

is a victim of the ‘she fell first, he fell harder’ trope

gives you sound solutions to your problems

literally becomes addicted to you and can’t live without you

flusters easily, very shy

would shave his facial hair if you asked him to (please tell him to shave off that godforsaken beard)

cons:

very blunt

never talks about his feelings

grammar police

a virgin; he doesn’t know what to do but fakes confidence like he does (it makes your first time a bit awkward but just talk him through it, babe)

humbles you without meaning to

over explains if you broach a subject he likes

sassy

just stares at you when you try to flirt with him

eustass kid

pros:

scary boyfriend privilege

an absolute beast in bed

insanely good kisser

raspy morning voice

you get to use his boobies as a pillow

is very smart but kinda dumb

eats pussy like a starved man

will always save you some food (it’s how he shows he cares)

cons:

dramatic

hangs out with killer more than you

will put the milk carton back in the fridge even if it’s empty

you can never be mad at him or make him mad because he’s the biggest asshole ever

ignores you if you’re fighting

zones out while you’re talking

if you send him a long, thoughtful text, he’ll respond back with ‘k’

what’s his is his and what’s yours is his

donquixote rosinante

pros:

walk. him. like. a. dog.

possessive over you, especially around his brother

would protect you with his last dying breath

absolute romantic

probably writes you poems

gentle giant, is so careful and soft with you

amazing cook despite accidentally setting himself on fire

has the patience of a god, once again, because of his brother

cons:

clumsy

you have to keep a fire extinguisher with you at all times

you can’t get the smoke smell out of his clothes

he’s so tall you can’t kiss normally, he has to pick you up

whiny

silent treatment

covers up his farts with his devil fruit and you don’t realize it until it stinks

has really bad resting bitch face (literally goes from :| to :) in .03 seconds)

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated (✿◠‿◠)

[thetimetraveler24]

Sometimes I think about how people rank Jason as their least favorite because he’s “such a bland character with no personality”, but was he even allowed to have one in the first place?

He’s two years old when Lupa guides him to Camp Jupiter. He’s brought up to be the perfect soldier, the perfect Roman, the perfect hero. He doesn’t know life outside the legion. He’s the son of Jupiter, he has to be great. If he’s not, he’s a failure and a disgrace. If he is then he’s still not the best because there so many other heroes who did it better than him so he has to keep trying harder and harder even though no matter what he’s never going to be good enough because the moment he slips up he’s no longer the perfect hero.

The few times he actually tries to do something he wants, he’s only cut down. Changing the 12th legion to the 1st legion? No, you can’t do that. It’s tradition. You’re wrong. That’s stupid. Joining the 5th cohort? Why would you join those losers? You’re only hurting yourself. You could be great if you join the 1st cohort instead like a good Roman boy.

So why would he try to do anything that cultivates his identity? Why would he try to do anything that brings him joy if everyone around him is just going to suck it right out?

He has no best friends at Camp Jupiter. He has acquaintances. He has people he’s friendly with. Say what you want but Reyna was a coworker. Dakota was cool, Gwen was nice. But none of them make Jason want to stay at Camp Jupiter instead of Camp Half-Blood. He thinks of Reyna but only in terms of he doesn’t want to saddle her with the responsibility of picking a new praetor. He thinks about duty. When he is picking between the camps he’s weighing his options between doing his duty as he’s done his whole life or picking himself for the very first time ever and he picks himself.

And it’s honestly so fucking depressing that the first time Jason picks himself and is actually supported in his decision happens when he is sixteen years old. And most of the people supporting him have only known him for a month.

But then he saddles himself with duty and responsibilities because that’s all he’s ever known and Percy is dying and Jason is a good Roman and a good hero and his job is to sacrifice his life for everyone else because of course it is. So he takes on Pontifex Maximus to build shrines and temples to minor gods and goddesses (not that they shouldn’t be honored but… once again he’s sacrificing his identity for the good of everyone around him).

And then, just as he’s finally discovering an identity for himself—he likes physics, he’s learning about the mortal world and living in it, he’s becoming more than just Jupiters son and Juno’s perfect hero—he’s killed.

Jason never got to be Jason. He only got to be Jason Grace, son of Jupiter, Praetor of the 12th Legion, slayer of Krios, one of the Seven, Juno’s Champion, Pontifex Maximus. He always belonged to someone else and never himself.

All this to say, Jason is my favorite of the Seven and although he’s not the eldest nor a daughter, as an eldest daughter I relate so hard and feel very seen in him.

[willbyersabyss]

So what are Will's flaws?

Is Will totally perfect in every way? Is he a jealous saboteur? Or a secret third option... neither. Let's discuss Will's flaws and nuances!

1. Emotional suppression

Will avoids his problems. He hates talking about both his emotional and physical danger because he doesn't want to be treated differently. From a young age, he was taught by Lonnie that he shouldn't express his emotions because that makes him "sensitive" and "weak." So now he likes to hide.

This emotional suppression causes his feelings to worsen over time. Once he finally lets it out, he explodes. Instead of healthy conversations, he says and does things that he'll probably regret later. He blows up at Mike, he yells at Jonathan, he destroys Castle Byers, he shows his hand (what about us?)

Will's avoidance doesn't only have consequences on him, but others. If he had told someone he was feeling the Mind Flayer earlier, they might've been able to save some of the Flayed. But he couldn't tell someone because that puts him in a place of emotional vulnerability. That's exactly why he waited until after he fought with the boys to mention the supernatural. He traded one vulnerable situation for another, allowing him to avoid opening up about his true feelings. It was a distraction.

This also doesn't let others to heal from their altercations. Both Lucas and Mike try to apologize to Will, but he brushes them off. Will thinks he doesn't deserve consideration. The walls he puts up forces others to hold onto their own guilt, leaving a sore spot in their relationship. We can see this soreness in Will and Mike's relationship in s4. They never healed from the rain fight. Well... not that Mike tried to apologize after the Mind Flayer debacle. Again, distraction on Will's part.

Will’s inability to handle change is also due to him bottling up his feelings. His trauma and suppression makes him stuck in the past. He doesn’t let himself move through each day where these emotions would be felt.

It's interesting how Will is deemed the emotional one when his sensitivity is actually a result of him keeping his emotions in. Once that dam is opened, it's hard for him to stop. He breaks, just as he fears.

2. Self-hatred

And all that emotional suppression leads to Will internalizing other people's view of him. Will's self-hatred stems from bullying and his father's abuse. He thinks he's to blame, that he's a mistake. As more people distance themselves from Will, he believes there's something wrong with him.

When he thinks he deserves mistreatment, his relationships crumble more. They're unable to reconcile. True forgiveness can't be achieved if he doesn't think he should be apologized to in the first place.

Will's hatred is the reason why he tried to sacrifice himself in s2 to save his friends. He doesn't think he deserves to be saved. This makes him an easy target for Vecna. It's very likely that Will's self-hatred will factor into his upcoming supernatural plot.

The more Will hates himself, the more he hides, the more he suppresses his emotions.

3. People pleaser

If Will is anything, he's a people pleaser. He's selfless. So much so that this is the first thing we find out about him. While admirable, it actually leads to more bad than good. His people pleasing tendency goes hand in hand with his emotional suppression. Will doesn't like to take up space and inconvenience other people.

Will's never ending effort to please others leads to him making assumptions. Wrong assumptions. Whether it be letting Max join them on Halloween or pushing Mike to give a love confession, Will tries his best to use his mediator role to give people what they want.

But he doesn't know what they want, does he? Will wanted to make Dustin and Lucas happy, but this created a rift with Mike. He thought Mike was itching to profess his love for El, but that wasn’t what either of them needed. In an attempt to help, he's making it worse.

He must be successful sometimes, though, because there's an expectation from his friends that he'll fulfill their needs at the flick of a wand. This vacancy from Will makes him a pushover. They think they can make fun of him and he'll just take it because that's what he does. When Will finally stands up for himself, they're shocked. That's out of character for him. It's like they want to say: “Why isn't he letting us be mean to him? :(”

Mike even expected Will to tell him that his own girlfriend was being bullied. Will's people pleasing explodes in his face. So now when he's unable to read their needs and fix it for them, he's to blame. Will takes on the weight of their problems too much. While it's good that they rely on him, there shouldn't be pressure for him to judge their every whim. But it's not exactly their fault because Will set the stage for this behavior.

Weirdly, Will's need to please others is the reason why he didn't call Mike. He thought Mike wanted nothing to do with him, so he didn't reach out. There he goes assuming things again! But Will was there, waiting for the rare occasion where Mike did want him. He went so far right that he ended up left.

Will's behavior towards El is also an instance of wrong assumptions. Will didn't like being treated differently in s2, so he assumed El would feel the same way. He used his own experiences to inform how he should treat others. Babying El would make her feel more ostracized. Instead, he offered emotional comfort, similar to the comfort he received, after the bullying. This doesn't really help her because she doesn't have the same emotional mechanics as Will.

So Will assumes things, pushes his own wants down, and lets people walk all over him all in the name of being pleasant.

4. Freeze, fly, fight. In that order!

When Will is scared, he freezes. This flaw is so significant that they talked about it textually multiple times. I'm not sure I would consider it a flaw since it has saved him more than it's harmed him, though.

The few times Will has decided to fight instead of freeze, he was kidnapped and possessed. Confrontation isn't an option for him. His body believes he'll be put directly in danger if he does anything but freeze/fly. Fight is only used as a last resort.

It only really enters flaw territory when it's an inconvenience. He froze during the sauna test, when El was being bullied, and when he should've shot the creature in the shed. Will is unable to help himself and others when he's scared.

When he snaps out of it, he cries and feels guilty for being so hesitant. He wishes he could do more but he can't. This wraps back around to his self-hatred.

5. Jealousy

When his best friend of 10 years that he's in love with starts to ditch him for some random girl, it's not shocking that there would be some jealousy! Will is the silent jealous type. His jealousy doesn't really manifest into resentment or outward action against the other person. Unlike a certain someone...

Will only shows it through rolling eyes, a snarky comment here or there, or an outburst at his most emotionally vulnerable. I mean, if Will really wanted to see El crash and burn, he could've kept his mouth shut the entire Rink-O-Mania day. Or he could've ignored her in the courtyard as she picks up the pieces of her project. But he didn't.

The worst we've seen Will's jealousy was during the rain fight. He called El stupid. There's no beating around the bush, he was in the wrong for that. But this came out of Will because his emotions were at an all time high. Why? Emotional suppression!

A lot of Will's snarky comments towards El are out of genuine confusion. He doesn't understand how El can have exactly what he wants, but she's willing to ruin it by lying. Unfortunately, he later learns that exact lesson. He's envious that she can do what Mike hates without major repercussions, while he's somehow blamed for her lies. And why does he get blamed? People pleaser expectations!

Will waited until a quiet moment to inform El of her mistakes. Will's goal isn't to humiliate El. He doesn't let his jealousy lead to resentment. Instead, he tried to (snarkily) lead her to make better decisions because it's not fair! It's not fair that she can have it all without working for it!

And now we're back at self-hatred. Some of his jealous moments make it bubble back up. He bends his painting, something he put his blood, sweat, and tears into, because he isn't enough for them. Their ideal day is without him. Will's art is an extension of himself. He's aiming his anger back at himself by hurting his art.

All of his flaws connect back to his low self-esteem in some way. This is why it's important for Will to receive and accept love in his life. A big part of his arc is self acceptance.

So there it is in all its glory! All of Will's main flaws in one post. What did we learn? Will suppresses his emotions, hates himself, pleases others to a fault, freezes, and is green with envy. And he wouldn't be Will without 'em!

[thespianwordnerd]

The key to understanding Leonard McCoy is that he only ACTS like he hates everyone and everything. Underneath that sarcastic abrasive middle aged man is a fundamental love for living creatures, desire to help others so strong that he made a career of it and a respect for the simple joys, which occasionally show their face when he's turning on the southern charm for a woman or offering to sacrifice himself to save a patient. I mean, you'd probably be a bit grumpy too if your marriage ended and you were stuck in space (a place you hate) trying to stop your best friends getting themselves killed when you could be spending time with your daughter. He's not surly and outspoken because he doesn't care, he's surly and outspoken precisely because he cares so much and yes, that has got him hurt before and probably will again but dammit, he's not going to let that stop him being what he is - an old country doctor who will do anything he can to help people. I love his sardonic witty banter as much as anyone but I think the real reason we take him into our hearts is because despite his complaining he's arguably the most down-to-earth, no-nonsense character in TOS and deep down we all admire his simple selfless dedication to caring for others. Never change, Bones.

[brnesblogposts]

Stuck

bucky barnes x reader

a/n miscommunication & close proximity trope is all i’m gonna say, it’s very fluffy once well- read it and find out reblogs appreciated!!!

“You’ve gotta be shitting me” Bucky speaks under his breath, frustration evident in his body language and tone. A feedback sound started on the speakers on the ferris wheel.

“Ladies and gentlemen there seems to be some technical issues with the ferris wheel, remain calm and stay seated and we should have it back up and running soon”

You heard a heavy sigh escape from Bucky as his head hung back in defeat.

“They said it’ll be fixed soon, won’t have to be stuck with me for long Buck” Trying to cut the tension that sat between him and yourself only earned a side glance from the man beside you.

You looked down to the car just beneath you “STEVE, NAT!! ARE YOU GUYS OKAY??!” Their heads whipping towards you as you spoke at a far too loud volume.

“WE’RE OKAY! YOU?” Natasha replied back and you gave her a thumbs up, her and Steve getting back to bickering and giggling about whatever they were talking about. Meanwhile you were sat next to Mr Grumpy-

“Can you stop moving,” he spat out without looking at you. Bold of you to assume you were getting somewhere with him, even on the brink of considering him a ‘friend’ but that idea was shot down quickly.

“I’m not moving, it’s probably the wind or maybe it’s you and you don’t realise” Tapping your fingers on the barrier that held you in place, he turned to you and gave you a bitter look which only made the situation more awkward and tense.

“How’d i get dragged onto the ferris wheel anyway” He huffs.

“Because, Steve and Nat are your best friends and also Nat is really scary and saying yes was easier than saying no” You looked down at the two as you spoke, their flirting ever so obvious even from your height.

A few minutes passed where nobody said anything, you both avoided eye contact and it gave you time to reflect on what you could’ve done to make Bucky so impassive to you, you’d barely talked to him because if you tried he disregarded you or made an excuse to leave as soon as possible. You really wanted to be his friend too. It’s awkward when the four of you go out and Steve and Nat obviously want to do things together as a couple making you stuck with Bucky and him with you. At least being civil is all you want, for Bucky to be able to hold a conversation with you longer than a few seconds.

“Are you cold?” His voice broke you from your thoughts, you were shivering and you hadn’t realised as you were so deep in your head. You looked at the goosebumps on your arms and turned to him,

“I guess I am, yeah.” you laughed at your ignorance for not noticing your body temperature drop. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Bucky starting to take his jumper off.

“What are you doing?” You furrowed your brows at his action, there’s no way he was about to give that to you, he doesn’t even like you, you don’t think so anyway based on every interaction you’ve had with him ever.

“I’m giving you my sweater?” Now he was confused, it was quite obvious to him what he was doing, why else would he take off the jumper and sacrifice himself so you could be warm? He’s a gentleman first if anything. He got it over is head and handed it you, you took a second to take it as you were flabbergasted at his sudden kindness towards you.

“Oh.” You broke your gaze from him down to the jumper “Thank you,” you smiled gratefully and put the jumper on. The sleeves swallowed your hands, which helped because they were freezing before. Then you looked back at Bucky who now sat next to you in nothing but a black t-shirt “Are you not cold?” Once again furrowing your brows in his direction.

“Not as cold as you” He was looking straight ahead at the city view from your spot at the top of the ferris wheel. Reading his expression was impossible and you were really trying to—

“Okay well uh— thanks again.” You repeated your thanks as you snuggled into the jumper that now enveloped you, “So.. kinda awkward, huh?” You tried cracking a joke laughing a little as you did so which made Bucky turn to face you, analysing his features which you didn’t notice softened as he saw you smiling.

Bucky coughed awkwardly “Uh-“ He let out a small laugh too “Looks like Steve and Nat aren’t bothered by this disruption at all” His tone was lighter.

“Those two wouldn’t notice the world ending while they’re gazing at each other like that” You laughed again, Bucky liked that sound.

“So in love, it’s sickening” He retorted with a shake of his head and a smile which earned a glance from you, just a brief one before you looked back down at your sweater paws as they rested on the barrier, Bucky has noticed and he found it endearing, he felt warm whenever he saw you smile or heard you laugh and every time your thigh accidentally touched his due to your close proximity he swears a bolt of electricity travelled through him making his heart beat faster.

“I think it’s cute” You had a small pout on your face as you spoke, still looking down towards your two friends “imagine being stuck on a ferris wheel with someone you love, not the worst thing in the world in my opinion, it’s kind of like an impromptu date where you have no choice but to talk because the other option is incredibly awkward silence” You fiddled with the sleeves of the jumper.

“I guess, but what if you were trapped on a ferris wheel with someone you liked who you knew didn’t feel the same, that’s awkward all on its own” He was playing with a thread on his jeans as he spoke, you noticed.

“How would they know if the other person didn’t feel the same? Had they asked?” You inquired as the tension between you grew once again because the situation was too close to home.

“Isn’t asking embarrassing though?” Bucky asked breathily, like he was nervous.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t?” He looked at you.

“I mean the worst that can happen is they say no and you’re sad for a bit but you’d move on eventually” You smiled but you weren’t looking at him.

“Right, yeah” He coughed awkwardly again and the silence resumed until he broke it about a minute later “Uhm” clearing his throat again Bucky decided it was now or never “Are you doing anything Friday night?” He closed his eyes for a brief second because there was no going back now.

“No, why?” You looked at him and smiled, maybe he’d finally be your friend, that was progress and you could work with that.

“Would you uh- like to get dinner with me? Like a date..?” He avoided your gaze as he asked.

“What” It caught you off guard and you responded without thinking.

“Fuck” He swore to himself “sorry forget I said anything, I don’t know what was going through my-“ He began to ramble.

“Bucky no I mean, I thought you didn’t like me” His head turned to face you as he thought about your words.

“What? No I do like you” He furrowed his brows thinking back on the interactions you’d had where he hadn’t realised he’d been so nervous it came off as rude. “Shit i’m sorry, i’ve been an ass to you now that I think about it, I wasn’t trying to though, I thought I was uh- I thought i was disguising my attraction to you well because i didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but I guess it came off dickish” He internally slapped himself at his mistake

“Oh, OH” The realisation and his admission hit you “Awe, Bucky,” you laughed at how silly it all was, if you’d have just talked to each other sooner this could’ve been avoided “Bucky I would love to go to dinner with you” You smiled at the man.

The ferris wheel suddenly began again and you were on your way down, both smiling like idiots and laughing whenever you’d glance at each other, two idiots that had liked each other this whole time who didn’t know it. You both stepped off the car and down the stairs smiling and giggling still and approached Natasha and Steve,

“What the hell happened up there?” Natasha laughed because she had never seen the two of you so cosy before, Steve raised a brow but you two only burst out laughing again and started walking ahead of them and snickering as they both stared in confusion and disbelief.

[rebelspykatie]

Steve who accidentally wishes that he never went back to the Byers house to apologize that night, and has to live out a timeline where he’s not directly involved in the upside down happenings. Just an observer of the events from afar and how his removal from the main plot changes the entire trajectory of the story. 

How some of the kids get injured when he’s not there to protect them. How Robin never gets entangled in their mess, but she’s lonelier and has no one to rely on, quiet and mistrustful of people, especially popular kids like him. How quickly Jonathan and Nancy get together when he’s not begging Nancy to forget Barb and dragging her into a bullshit relationship. How he fades from the top of the high school hierarchy after Billy’s arrival anyways, disgusted by him and Tommy. 

It provides clarity in the worst possible way and he thinks it’ll never go back to the way it was, that he’s destined to remain a bystander when every time he tries to intervene fails. That is, until he ends up in the wrong place at the right time, running into the woods when he’s threatened by Hargrove, stumbling straight into Eddie’s hideout for dealing, looking like he saw a ghost when Eddie just raises one eyebrow skeptically. 

Even with that hint of hostility, Steve’s so relieved to have something so familiar that he just starts talking, trying to charm Eddie into being his friend again and it works. It’s the first touch of normal he’s had in this upside down version of his reality, and it’s the key that connects him back to the supernatural events. 

Their friendship leads him back to the kids when they join Hellfire. Robin eventually comes around once she sees Eddie visiting their job every day and learns Steve’s not who he used to be. Nancy catches them studying in the library together so they can both graduate on time and ends up sitting with them. 

At some point, Steve gets lost in the fantasy, lost in the years of friendship he’s developed with Eddie that starts to feel like home, the key to unraveling this mystery he’s found himself in, even if there’s this nagging voice in his head telling him it isn’t real. 

And of course, the magic eventually fades, the monsters under Hawkins come for them all the same, and when Steve makes the sacrifice play, this time it’s for all of them. But it’s also for everything he’s lost out on in this world, the moments he wasn’t there, all the times the people he loved were hurt and he couldn’t intervene because of his own stupid wish. 

He puts himself in danger because he finally understands that even if things were hard, even if they lost people in his reality, those moments bonded them and gave him a family, gave them all a family. Changing the circumstances doesn’t just magically make everything better, and in some ways, it has unintended consequences, even if he had the best intentions wishing all of it away. 

Even if he’s scarred for life and grasping to understand why him. They’re all an important piece of the puzzle, including Steve. So when he dies, looking into Eddie’s anguished eyes as he falls, and wakes up back in his world, a very similar and equally as panicked looking Eddie staring down at him, he doesn’t take that for granted.

He doesn’t have to go back to the beginning to make a change.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

hihihi!!!! i loveee the way u write angst!!!! could i please request a reader taking a fatal blow for jason? like some self sacrifice where reader protects jay? ahhh i just imagine the desperation and him running himself ragged to save reader before it ends with comfort!! thanks soso much! i hope u have a great week🩷

Set In Place

Hi, nonnie! Thank you, hope you enjoy! ~1.7k words

Slight miscommunication, but it's in the way they don't know how to talk to each other about feelings.

You weren't always a vigilante. You never planned on it, never wanted it. But when Jason Todd died you couldn't sit still, couldn't do nothing while the monsters that caused you to lose your best friend, your boyfriend, your first love, ran rampant.

You trained and trained until you were a shell of yourself. Until you and Bruce were both on a warpath that would only end with two more graves.

That was, until Tim came into your lives. Things got better, not much, but better. You learned to smile again, learned to soften your edges when you talked to the growing number of vigilantes patrolling Gotham's streets.

It scared you, sometimes, seeing kids no older than him fly around in the colors he died in. So you worked harder, got better, swore with everything you were and wouldn't be again that there will never be another dead Robin.

And then he came back. Jason– Red Hood, he called himself. It sends your world into a tailspin. You watch him become Gotham's most feared crime lord, you watch him leave all of that behind to become a hero. You watch as he slowly finds his place alongside his family.

You're just not exactly sure of what his place with you is. You patrol with him, you work with him. It's an awkward, unpracticed partnership, and you're sure he feels the same. You've told Bruce you don't want to work with Jason time and time again.

It's not that you don't miss him, don't feel envy at how easily he seemed to fall back into a routine with everyone else, it's just hard.

Hard when you catch him staring.

You know you must be unrecognizable to him, no longer the younger, civilian version of you. Hardened by the horrors of Gotham, scarred and calloused hands where skin used to be soft.

Bruce apparently didn't care about your complaints, because you find yourself on patrol with Red Hood more often than not. It's the same tonight, the two of you paired up to stake out some warehouse expecting a gun shipment for Falcone.

You can't help but watch him from the corner of your eye, he's different too, now. Bigger, sturdier, and willing to kill. A part of you wishes you had the courage to tell him that it doesn't make you hate him. That you miss him, and that nothing can change that part of your heart that's always been his.

You're tugged from your own thoughts when you see the familiar glint of a sniper rifle across the street. Your heart skips a beat and you're moving before you've even really connected that there's a gun.

You slam into Jason, a shot is fired. Pain blooms in your side as you both hit the ground.

Everything was different when Jason came back. It took a long time to settle, to try to find himself, to try to find his place in a family he doesn't know, a Gotham that's not quite what he remembers.

But he adapted, he carved out a place for himself that's undeniably his. He's really only left with one uncertainty, one place he doesn't know how to fit into.

You. His best friend, his childhood sweetheart, his first love. You're different now, but he is too, and he wants that to be okay.

Jason just doesn't know how to get to okay. He catches you watching him, he wonders what you see now. If you recognize the boy he used to be in what he is now. He can't help but watch you too. You're strong, brave, selfless and so, so beautiful. He's amazed about how much you've accomplished, how many lives you saved.

It's why he keeps telling Bruce to put him on patrol with you. It's worth the looks he gets if it means a chance to talk to you. He's currently trying to figure out the best way to get your attention during this boring stakeout. Should he ask what you've been up to? No, too general. If you're liking the weather? Ha, no. It's Gotham, that's stupid. The weather is bad.

If you have a partner? Oh, he definitely doesn't want to know that answer right now. He'd very much just like to be able to talk to you first.

Did you miss him as much as he missed you? Do you still love him like he still loves you?

He opens his mouth to speak, not having a plan but anything is better than silence, when you slam into him, crashing you both to the ground. The air leaves his lungs when he makes contact with the concrete, instinctively wrapping an arm around your waist and cradling your head to cushion the fall.

"Hey, what–" He starts, voice failing when wetness starts to seep into his gloves. You're bleeding. You're bleeding. You're shot. You're hurt because you saved him.

He's only able to react on the years of skill and training ingrained into his bones. Get you off of him and on the ground. Remove armor. Pressure on the wound. Where's the shooter? His eyes dart, he doesn't see anyone. Doesn't see who did this to you.

"Oracle," he chokes out "They're hurt, gun shot. It's bad. I need- we need an evac." He's tugging off his jacket, more material to slow the blood flow, something to keep you warm.

"Hey," You're reaching up to touch his arm with shaky hands, you sound relieved, "You're okay."

He tears up behind his helmet. It's not fair, not right that you're trying to comfort him when you're bleeding out on some forsaken Gotham rooftop. He vaguely hears the voices coming through the comlink, that help is coming, that he needs to tell them what's going on.

But, he can't respond to them, too focused on you, the way you seem to be getting weaker with each passing second. He's panicking, his breathing is shallow and fast as he tries to keep you alive.

"Why did you do that? Why did you do that?" He asks, trying to keep it together, but it's impossible when all he wants to do is scream and cry and hunt down whoever shot you.

You just offer a frail smile. "Glad you're safe, Jason," You murmur, words getting more slurred and quiet with each passing moment. He checks your pulse. It's getting too slow.

"Stay awake, stay with me," He begs, words fraying as he sobs your name, "please."

Something touches his shoulder, he has his gun pulled and pointed before he bothers to see who it is, face curled into a snarl behind his helmet.

"Woah there, Jason." Nightwing. His hands are raised, "we're going to help them, okay?"

Batman sweeps past him, crouching down at your side to pick you up. Jason launches forward, panicked and unable to think straight as he barks, "Don't touch them!"

Nightwing hauls him back as Batman carries them, his person, to the plane. "No, no, no, please. I need to be there. I need to. It's my fault!"

"I know, I know, it's not your fault, we're going too. C'mon." Nightwing soothes, letting go of him. Jason's on Batman's heels immediately, gaze locked on you, how your eyes keep sliding shut.

"The shooter–" He starts, anger building behind the guilt and panic.

"Spoiler and Robin have it handled." Batman tells him. Jason nods weakly and when Batman carefully sets you down in the plane, he takes your hand. Nightwing starts working over your wound, you barely make a sound in reaction to the pain.

"Stay awake. Don't go." He murmurs, begging, as he squeezes your fingers. He nearly sobs again when you offer him a feeble one in return.

Everything hurts. Which makes sense, you did get shot. It doesn't really bother you, at least not right now, not when Jason's holding your hand, his fingers resting over the steady beat of your pulse on your wrist.

You're not exactly sure how long you were passed out, but it was long enough that they got you into the medbay in the Batcave, stitched you up, and got you into a bed. Long enough that Jason's fallen asleep in the chair next to your bed, his head resting on top of the sheets by your hip.

You only hesitate for a second before reaching over to brush his hair back with your free hand. He's pretty when he's sleeping, but then again he's always pretty.

His eyes snap open and you draw your hand back. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you up, Jason."

He sits up quickly, eyes darting over you, "Don't be. Are you okay? How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?" He hasn't let go of your hand.

"I'm okay." You promise, because you are. He didn't get hurt. He's here, and that makes everything okay.

He exhales shakily, studying you, "You shouldn't have done that."

You shrug, "Maybe, but you would have done the same thing." You know it's the truth, even if what's between you isn't the same, he's good. Always so good.

He frowns and runs his thumb over your knuckles, lost in thought, he can’t find the words to refute you, to make you understand what you did was wrong. "Do you– can I get you anything?"

You smile at him, teasing, trying to lighten the look on his face, "What? You gonna be my personal maid till I can get outta bed?"

You're surprised at how earnestly he nods, "Yeah, of course. Whatever you need, just let me know."

You blink at him and take a risk, "Maybe you could keep me company for a while? Not much to do in medbay," You ask tentatively, unable to ignore a real chance at being something– anything– with him.

Warmth blooms in your chest at the way he smiles at your question. It surprises you again, how thrilled your question seems to make him.

If you only knew what he was thinking now, how much he's been trying to find this moment that brings you two back into each other's lives, and the guilt he feels that it took you getting hurt to find it. "I'd like that," he tells you.

You squeeze his hand, and he looks down, as if he forgot he was even holding it. It feels right, familiar, something that used to be found again.

"I'd like that too." You say softly. It makes the two of you grin like two idiots in love.

You'll both figure out you are, eventually, but in this tender moment, it's a sweet solace to have found a place next to each other again.

[curawrites]

Healing

Hiccup x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, no happy ending

Note: rewatched Race to the Edge and got obsessed and wanted to write angst 💚

Ever since the beginning you and Hiccup had been friends, best friends.

You had done everything together, you were the weird kids, the ones that never fit in, the ones that worked the forge during the nightly dragon attacks.

Being so close together had the adults in your life asking when the wedding would be. It had always made Hiccup chuckle uncomfortably while you stood beside him bashfully with pink ears.

You had really hoped that would be your future. It was childish to think but you were only a teen who thought things would never change.

Inevitably things did change. It happened so fast, one night you and Hiccup were handling the forge together as usual and then suddenly he was training to fight dragons.

You watched him get consumed with his training and whatever he was doing in the woods. You were completely unaware of the injured nightfury your best friend was training.

You were shocked when it was revealed that Hiccup had tamed such a dragon and that he knew where the dragon nest was.

Watching him get disowned hurt, you knew how much he wanted to prove himself to his father. You wanted to go after him, to comfort him like you had always done but you couldn’t and you knew you shouldn’t when Astrid was by his side. You knew how much the boy liked her, and even though it hurt you, you let them have their moment.

You watched as Hiccup had more moments with the other teens, helping them train the dragons, bonding with them. You were glad that he was finally fitting in.

His happiness brought you joy and at that age that’s all that mattered to you even if it meant being left behind.

You hadn’t been there to watch him become a hero but when the tribe came back you felt it. All of Berk was talking about his and Toothless’s sacrifice. In that moment you felt even more admiration for the boy.

You tried to be by Hiccup’s side when he was out, but it was difficult trying to squeeze in some time when five others also wanted to see him.

You felt a shift as soon as he woke up. When he was surrounded by the residents of Berk. When Astrid gave him a kiss and his gang rejoiced over his recovery.

You knew then that he would never be the same, he was no longer you Hiccup.

As the years passed you sunk into the shadows, watching Hiccup live his best life with his friends, riding dragons, going on adventures and exploring.

You yearned to be apart of them, for Hiccup to talk to you again, and help you train a dragon and bring you into the gang. But it never happened, he was to consumed with his new life to notice who he left behind.

When he left for the edge at 18 that’s when you realized your prior friendship was never going to be rekindled. The reality hit you hard, it was jarring. It made you truly process the grief of losing your best friend.

It made your spiral into a dark place, a void of black tar that wouldn’t let you go no matter how hard you tried to claw your way out. Eventually you let the tar consume you, let yourself believe in all of the horrible things you thought about yourself.

Months were spent rotting in your hut, crying, refusing to look at yourself in a mirror, and sleeping all day.

Once the sadness faded away all you felt was rage. How could he just forget you? You had been by his side for 15 years for Thor’s sake! How dare he abandon you to be with the “cool” kids!

Your rage fuelled you to better yourself out of spite. So you began training, releasing all of the anger and hurt with every strike of your sword against your opponent’s.

You learned a lot about yourself during that period of time. You couldn’t handle an axe or a bow but you were sure damn good with a spear and swords, you learned to be resilient and strong, you gained more intellect and strategy. It rebuilt a lot of your confidence and your self esteem.

After a while you began getting bored, you had fought pretty much everyone you could on Berk and you felt caged, you didn’t like being confined to the small island anymore.

So you left. By boat. In the opposite direction Hiccup had left for the edge, and began exploring.

You knew that at some point you would need your own dragon if you wanted to continue exploring, travelling by boat was becoming very inconvenient.

An opportunity came up a couple of months into your exploration journey. A particular village had kept being pestered and ransacked by a rowdy monstrous nightmare.

So you agreed to help the village get rid of it by trying to train it. How hard could it be right? Just throw some fish at it and put your hand out and bam! Tamed dragon!

Oh how wrong you were. The process was rough to say the least, the monstrous nightmare had refused the fish and smacked you out of its sight. So you tried to gradually invade it personal space, and it worked for a few days. Until you pushed your luck and tried to rush the process, earning you a deep long gash, starting at your mid thigh up to a four inches under your arm.

The wound was gushing blood, and you were losing your consciousness fast. You thought this was the end, it was honestly humiliating. You inhaled what you thought was your last breath and closed your eyes.

Eventually you woke up to a blinding light. Was this Valhalla? As your vision cleared you recognized the inside of the village’s huts and sighed. You were glad you were alive, as you sat up you hissed in pain. You shut your eyes tightly and clutched your bandaged side as you inhaled and exhaled deeply.

Suddenly you were nudged to lay back down. You opened your eyes, expecting to see one of the villagers but you were met with the guilty face of the monstrous nightmare.

It was a very inconvenient way to train a dragon but hey you managed. Now you had a very rowdy, loving and protective, royal blue monstrous nightmare by your side.

You named her Azule and as a repayment for your stay with the village healer you have the village your boat. Not like you really needed it anymore.

With that you resumed exploring and helping villages out with dragon problems. Thankfully these went much more successfully than the first.

While you weren’t fighting dragon hunters like some people, you still made some friends and acquaintances, and more importantly you had fun.

You felt alive again. Soaring the sky’s and camping out with your new companion brought you a new kind of happiness and fulfillment.

As fun as it was eventually it was time to return to Berk. You had spent a wonderful year where you had grown and gained new experiences and knowledge. You learned to overcome hard times, how to build relationships, how to work with others, and most importantly you learned how to be content with yourself.

You had left Berk as a hurt, reckless, immature girl but you returned as a healed and mature woman.

After being gone for so long, you knew your hut needed some much needed fixing. You didn’t want your home to remind you of your dark times, you wanted a fresh slate.

You got rid of practically everything and got new furniture.You made room for Azule, giving her, her own bed and little space in your hut. You repaired what needed to be fixed after a year of neglect and added some add ons as well. Outside you added a clothes line, a hammock, a sitting area, and a feeding station for Azule.

You decorated your home with tapestries, crystals and other knickknacks you got on your adventures. You transformed your space into the ultimate comfort.

You were finally content. Even a little happy. You had moved on, and felt like you were finally on the right path.

Hiccup and his friends eventually came back from the edge.

You had lived your separate lives and you continued to, your paths never crossing again.

[intermittent-showers]

Mmkay.

I'm tired of these people who say that Tommy isn't good for Buck. That Tommy "just isn't matching his energy." That Buck needs to stop clinging to relationships and "accept the love he deserves."

Are you all okay? Are you watching the show, or are you watching Buddie scenes?

Buck's past relationships, yes, he clung onto them, I do agree... but his relationship with Tommy is different.

How is Tommy not putting in the same amount of effort that Buck puts into relationships?

Tommy gave Buck a tour of Harbor. This means Buck got Tommy's phone number somehow. Then, we see Tommy absolutely thrilled at Buck's excitement during the tour. Then, if you really watch the scene, we see Buck fumble a bit. When he shrugs and says, "IDK man... i guess it would be kind of different..." and Tommy is fast to make Buck feel better. "There's no rule that says you can't get certified and still work at the 118. I fly for fun on my days off." Buck immediately perks up, and they flirt. Tommy even offers Buck flying lessons. They're then interrupted by plans that Tommy already made. Not the guy's fault. And if you watch, Tommy's facial expressions try to downplay how "exciting" the fight is.

Next, Tommy goes out of his way to talk to Buck in person about the "bad blood" between Buck and Eddie. He's honest with Buck about how it wasn't intentional. They begin to flirt again until Tommy ultimately kisses Buck. I wish Tommy got more credit for the kiss tbf. Because it was brave of him to take that chance. And he checks in with Buck after. He asks if that was "okay?" and then he doesn't make a huge deal out of it. He just asks Buck out before heading to work.

The date happens, and it's awkward af. Tommy knows that Buck is tense, and instead of making him feel stupid for that, Tommy reassures him and even relates to Buck's feelings. Then we see Tommy sitting here listening to Buck word vomit all over the table, AND HE LIKES IT. The "Buck" heard around the world is echoed within the restaurant and Tommy explains they're "grabbing a bite and then thinking about going to see a movie" friends do that... it's not weird. Only, Buck makes it sound like it's the complete opposite. He shoves Tommy in the closet after Tommy opened up to him about lying to himself. So, yeah, Tommy makes a jab at him with that closet comment. But the thing is, Eddie and Marisol have no reason to assume it means anything in regards to Buck's sexuality and they don't take it that way.

And even after being treated like that, Tommy ends the date by understanding what he just witnessed. Buck isn't comfortable with being out. So instead of calling him a coward or something equally as hurtful, Tommy calls him adorable but ends the date since Buck doesn't seem ready.

And Tommy gives Buck space. He doesn't reach out, which gives Buck time to think and make a decision about the direction he wants his love life to take.

Buck ultimately chooses to call Tommy, and they talk. And it's the first time we see Buck taking responsibility for something he did to a significant other. Another important sign here is that up to this point, Buck has not slept with Tommy. An important piece to their relationship.

Tommy shows up to the bachelor party. He's on call and should really be at home taking it easy, but no, he sacrifices sleep and food to show up for Buck. He only leaves because he got called in to work. (Side note here: Tommy didn't wear a costume because when you're on call, you need to be at the ready immediately, so to dress up wouldn't make sense for Tommy).

He tells Buck that he'll try his best to make it to the wedding. To which Buck seems skeptical.

But Tommy does show up. Dirty and in his turnouts, but he's there. And clearly Buck is appreciative because he eats Tommy's face in the lobby.

(Not mentioning the medal ceremony)

Bobby has his heart attack but recovers and we see Buck and Tommy having dinner. Tommy asks about Bobby, watches Buck's facial expressions, asks if he's okay, opens up about his father and Gerrard, then follows Buck's lead to lighten the conversation.

Where in the hell has Tommy been bad for Buck? Where has he NOT matched Buck's energy?

And you think Buck should be with Eddie so he can see what a relationship SHOULD be like? That being with Eddie is "the respect and the dignity and the enthusiasm he deserves from a partner."

Right. Because if Buddie happened in season 7 like some wanted... Eddie definitely wouldn't have cheated on Buck with Kim... right??? The doppelganger of the "love of his life?" How would that have made Buck feel? He realizes he's bisexual, gets in a relationship with his "best friend" who then immediately cheats on him with a woman who looks like Shannon!?

No. Just... no.

And if you think Buck should be with someone who really needs to deal with their repressed grief over a woman... then you don't understand the character of Buck at all.

Buck grew up with two parents who lived in their repressed grief. Do not make that man be in that position again! And don't make him have to fix Eddie. It is not his job.

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere! Priests Hcs

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

🌟 Yandere! Priest is a very devoted lover. He makes sure that all your needs are whether they be external or internal things. Cares more about your life then his own and is willing to sacrifice anything for you. He makes sure to follow any request that you have for him and is even willing to act as your pet if you ever wanted him to.

🌟 Yandere! Priest gave up his religion in order to worship you. You are the reason for living without you, he would be nothing. Everyday he wakes up is for you. You are his sunshine, his beacon of light, and his God. It would be wrong for him not to devote every second of his life to you. Why would he not? You definitely deserve all of it.

🌟 Yandere! Priest is very easy to manipulate due to his willingness to follow your every command. That however, does not make him any less dangerous though. He has many connections and is friends with almost every powerful person in the world. If he ever needed to he would ask them for help in getting rid of certain matters.

🌟 Yandere! Priest is a bit of a germaphobe and would constantly come over to your room to clean it. Washes all your clothes for you and basically does all the household chores. With him by your side, you can basically rot in bed all day.

🌟 Yandere! Priest would probably make up a religion based on you and would try to get others to join. He has a very mild temperament and is almost always kind to others. However, that doesn’t mean you can go and disrespect him whenever you want. He hates getting his hands and would manipulate anyone so that he can get his way.

🌟 Yandere! Priest is an S tier manipulator. Anything you do or say can be twisted to this man's will. He’s insanely smart and could haggle his way into getting anything for free. Many people look up to him and don’t understand that he’s just using them. To them he’s an angel who would never want to hurt anyone.

🌟 Yandere! Priest secretly puts a tracker on you so that he can track your every move. He is very particular on who gets to associate with you. He won’t even let anyone 20 feet near you if he doesn’t approve of him. Those people don’t even deserve to be in your presence, they're all just lesser beings that might try to corrupt or harm you.

🌟 Yandere! Priest cares a lot about your opinions on him. He’ll sometimes get self conscious and will wonder if he’s pleasing you enough. If you even dare to say that you're unsatisfied with him, he’ll act as if he created the greatest sin in the universe.

🌟 Yandere! Priest most likely met when he’s severely injured and you helped save him. Due to that, he’s been by your side ever since. He was in dire need of assistance and you were brought down from heaven just for him. How could he ever repay you for this? By attending to your needs, after all he was created to serve you.

🌟 Yandere! Priest has an altar of you, where he just prays to it everyday. At night, his thoughts are full of you and when he wakes up, they are still full of you. Nothing is going to change that. His love for you is so immense, that you’ll feel suffocated by it daily. It’s honestly so scary sometimes, no one should be this obsessed with a person.

🌟 Yandere! Priest could never bring himself to yell at you if you ever did something wrong. If anything, he’d gaslight someone else into thinking that they were the ones at fault. “My love did not break that plate, it was just too slippery for someone to hold properly. You should have designed it better, this better not happen again.”

🌟 Yandere! Priest would never harm you if you tried running away from him. Instead he would just give you a disappointed look and then lock you up in a lavish room for a few days. Seeing the look of pain on your face also causes him pain. So he’ll try his best to never cause you any physical harm.

🌟 Yandere! Priest would make running away extremely difficult. He would make sure that guards would always be guarding your room and if you were ever in public eyes would be constantly on you. The vast number of people watching you would deter you from the idea of escaping.

🌟 Yandere! Priest is amazing at painting. When he’s not busy, he spends all of his free time sketching you. You're his favorite thing to draw and are basically his muse. Has multiple sketch books filled to the brim with pictures of you. Will sometimes even run up to you with one of his paintings and wait for you to compliment them.

🌟 Yandere! Priest is willing to be a pawn in any scheme you try to play. He doesn't care if you're just using him, as long as it’s only him. Can sometimes be a little delusional when it comes to you. You’re staying with him because you love him, totally not because he’s forcing his love upon you.

🌟 Yandere! Priest gets so offended if someone dares to even insult you. That is considered blasphemy to him and there’s no way he’s letting that individual get away with that. Whether they are a woman or child, they’re not getting away with it and will be severely punished.

🌟 Yandere! Priest sings praises to you on a daily basis. You can’t go one second without him complimenting you on something. He brags about you to other people so often that they start to get tired of your name. Will go on for hours if he really wanted to. There’s just nothing about you that he doesn’t admire. You’re just so awesome.

🌟 Yandere! Priest dislikes being away from you. Every second away from you is like hell. He honestly can’t stand it. Can be very needy at times and beg for you attention if he has to.

🌟 Yandere! Priest overall is not the worst yandere to have. There definitely are people who are more vicious and willing to take away every freedom you have. Just make sure not to run away from him and you’ll be living a smooth sailing life.

Pt.2

[duckieduccss]

Stargazing ⭐️

Saw the one meme floating around & decided to make my own version along with using it as a valid excuse to draw these two again. I do see Megalon enjoying it much more that Gigan though. Im my mind, Megs didnt get a lot of time to actually go out & explore by the ruler of Seatopia, so actually going out to stargaze (more than likely fighting just to get permission) means literally everything to him.

With Gigan, it’s more of just something he’s very used to (being from space) but at the same time, i have a feeling that it could be a thing that brings him some sort of bad memories (more like something he’s trying to avoid). Just explain a lil (tho honestly i do feel like it can be its own separate post), his time with the Xiliens & more importantly being in M Space Hunter Nebula proved to be an overwhelming & stressing experience for him (them having “created” him & therefore demanding more & more from him in exchange for “upgrades”). At some point he fled the moment he had the chance when commanded to go fight for them & not returning back. Instead he’s basically been hiding for a good enough while & during that time, he found himself & stayed alongside Megs. Genuinely enjoying his company & someone who didnt judge him compared to the Xilliens

But also given how much it means to his friend to see the stars out at night, he’s willing to make a small sacrifice just to see his best friend smile. That & reminding himself that he can at least feel less nervous & afraid with Megalon by their side, who at this point is the only one that means literally the whole world (or even universe) to him

but yea, these 2 still mean everything to me & drawing them stargazing together was definitely something i wanted to do so yay :D

[i love coming up with lore for some of my more fav kaiju or just kaiju in general. Hope i can at least share most of them ^^:]

[bumblesimagines]

Our Gentle Sin

Request: Yes or No

Summary: After being left orphaned and adopted by his grandmother, Arvin finds solace in his new sister and discovers a partner in crime in the neighbor down the road.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Mentions of parents dying, implied/mentioned abusive parents, mentions of religion , mentions of homophobia, mentions of pet/animal death

~~~

Arvin remembered the days after his parents' deaths pretty vividly, even at the young age he'd lost them. He remembered the funeral for his mother and the deathly silent ride back home where he stewed in his anger and grief; unable to brush away the fact all his father's insistent praying and the slaughter of his poor dog had been for nothing. No amount of praying or sacrifices had taken his mother's illness from him, no amount of tears shed brought his best friend back to life.

By the time he led the officer to his father's corpse by the cross out in the woods, his body and heart had grown numb.

The ride to his grandmother and uncle's home had been silent, too. He supposed there was nothing good to say to a boy who'd lost his parents back-to-back. The numbness dulled a little after reuniting with his family and his new sister; Lenora, she was called, presumably an orphan like him. Her mother had dropped her off at his grandmother's home to spend the day out with her husband and his cousin, only to never be seen alive again while her husband and the cousin virtually disappeared. Her sweet smile and glittering eyes won him over soon enough and he vowed to always protect her. 

A couple months after settling into life at his grandmother's house, she had his uncle drive them down the road and across the street to a neighbor's house where one of Lenora's friends lived for a playdate. His grandmother told him about the boy his age who she hoped he'd befriend and coaxed him into giving the boy a try while she caught up with his quiet and timid mother.

Back in Knockemstiff, Arvin had little to no friends since most of the boys always gave him a hard time for being an outsider. In Coal Creek, his grandmother assured him, things would be different. 

While his grandmother and Lenora entered the house, Arvin lingered outside, unsure of what to do with himself as he stared at the boy. (Y/N), he was called. (Y/N) stared back at him, his fingers toying with the laces of his worn shoes and chin propped up on his knee. "You're Arvin?" He finally spoke, lifting his head and squinting through the sunrays. Arvin gave a nod. "Come meet Summer." 

Arvin barely had time to question him on who exactly 'Summer' was before (Y/N) took him by the wrist and led him around the house to the open backyard. His eyes automatically locked on the shabby wooden doghouse, his heart skipping a beat and then filling with longing when a sweet-looking dog poked its head out of the doghouse at the sound of their shoes crunching the leaves scattered around. Summer trotted toward them, her tail wagging and nose pressing so hard into (Y/N)'s shirt that it left a wet imprint behind. 

"Why is she outside?" Arvin asked, his lips threatening to quiver when he pressed his hand into her soft pretty fur. He thought of his Jack and how sweet he'd been, always trailing after him like the good boy he'd been. He remembered the cold night he realized what his father had done and the hatred that'd bubbled up in him. 

"Dad says animals are dirty, and dirty things gotta be kept outside. He doesn't like her very much, I think." (Y/N) explained, rubbing his palm into Summer's head and grinning when she lapped at his chin, her tail wagging quicker than before. 

Arvin decided then and there that he disliked (Y/N)'s father, and as he later learned, the man was a drunk son of a bitch worthy of no respect. 

Time flew by quicker than Arvin expected now that he had Lenora and (Y/N) to keep him company. They were as thick as thieves, vowing to protect and defend each other no matter what. It led to many fights when other boys at school tried picking on them, and they oft' sat at the dinner table while his grandmother scolded them and Lenora tended to their injuries, but it only made them closer. Trouble makers, some called them, but it never mattered. Arvin only grew to realize his feelings had changed when he heard his grandmother teasingly say she could see Lenora and (Y/N) marrying when they got older. 

Arvin had been unable to get her words out of his head since that evening, been unable to decipher why it annoyed him as much as it did. It made sense, in a way. Two kids from the same town growing up together and eventually marrying after high school was a tale as old as time. He wondered if it was simply the idea of his little sister getting hitched or someone stealing away his only companion but only the latter bothered him more than the former. 

"You ever think of the future?" Arvin asked, leaning back against the hood of his car and staring up at the twinkling stars. The car shook lightly when (Y/N) shut the door, leaves crunching under his boots as he made his way around to stand beside him. He clamped his teeth around the cap of a beer bottle in hand, peeling it off and spitting it out onto the ground. 

"The future?" (Y/N) repeated, offering the bottle before taking the cap off his own. "You thinkin' of the future now, Arv?" 

"Grandma was fixin' up dinner with Lenora and, I dunno, she said some things that got me thinkin', I guess," Arvin explained and took a swing of his beer, craning his neck when it began to ache and gazing at his best friend. (Y/N) pressed the rim of the bottle against his bottom lip in thought, eyes staring off into the darkness of the forest around them. Arvin liked watching him. He learned all his quirks and habits that way. 

(Y/N)'s brows fixed. "What'd she say? She mention she wants you out of the house or somethin'? I bet she wants you to get yourself a real pretty wife." (Y/N) laughed, his voice teasing and light-hearted. 

It was true, he supposed. The times his grandmother would talk about his parents, she always ensured to remind him that he needed to 'find himself a good, God-fearing Christian wife who loves him as his mother loved his father.' He'd heard the romantic tale time after time; his father drove through Meade and stopped to get himself a coffee only to end up head over heels for the pretty, generous waitress. His father ignored his grandmother's desire to get him to wed another woman and ultimately won his mother over. In the end, his love for her led to his own demise. 

"She thinks you oughta marry Lenora." 

"Lenora?" (Y/N) repeated, aghast and wide-eyed. "Oh, come on, Arv. I'd never marry Lenora! She's like a sister to me, you know that." He shoved his elbow into Arvin's side and scoffed quietly, filling his mouth with beer and making the car shift when he sat back on the hood. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Arvin chuckled, thumb rubbing into the wet glass of his bottle. He caught (Y/N) leaning back to lay on the hood and clicked his tongue, twisting around to warn him about denting the hood only to notice the way (Y/N)'s shirt rode up and exposed the happy trail dipping beneath his jeans. The words died in his throat and he clamped his mouth shut but before he could turn away and take a swing of his beer, the moonlight shone above them and exposed the blossoming bruise peeking out from under his shirt. 

Without thinking twice, Arvin's fingers grasped the hem of his shirt and tugged it upward, ignoring the noise of complaint that escaped (Y/N) when the cold nipped at his newly exposed skin. A hefty bruise just over his rib cage, big and purple and enough to send a wave of fury over Arvin. (Y/N) shoved his hand away and sat up, pushing his shirt back down and stepping away from the car. 

"(Y/N)-"

"I don't wanna hear it." 

"I'm gonna kill him, I swear." Arvin spat, fully meaning his words. He had the means to now that his uncle had recently gifted him a gun that once belonged to his father for his birthday but he never did anything without (Y/N)'s knowledge. (Y/N) chugged the rest of the beer, regret briefly settling in when his features scrunched up before he tossed the bottle aside blindly to be forgotten in the woods. "I could, you know. Unc' got me that gun I showed ya the other day."

"It was a fight, Arv. I got some good punches in, too." (Y/N) sighed. "He was drunk and being a real piece of work over Summer. Said he wanted to sell her n' stuff like that now that she's too old to do anythin' other than sleep." 

"It'd be real easy to get rid of him." Arvin would never admit it aloud, especially around others, but he'd thought about it plenty of times before. A drunk hated by virtually everyone? No one would bat an eye. He doubted the church would even say any prayers for him. "I could do it." 

"Not worth it, Arv."

"Not worth it?" Arvin bristled, his hold on his bottle tightening and his body peeling itself away from the car. (Y/N) barely batted an eye when Arvin grabbed a fistful of his collar, and the blatant trust despite his home life made Arvin's anger simmer down a smidge. "I ain't goin' to sit around a second longer watchin' him be a piece of shit to you and your family." 

"Our sisters are graduatin' soon, remember? By the time graduation comes around mine will be hitched by that little boyfriend of hers and out the house quicker than a fish in water. Ma's never leavin' him, you and I both know that, but I will someday. You and I will do some work, get some money, and make somethin' of ourselves. I'll need you out of prison for that to work, Arv." (Y/N) pursed his lips. "You keep gettin' yourself worked up over nothin'-"

"It ain't nothin' and you know it." Arvin huffed and released his tight hold on (Y/N)'s collar, taking a quick swing of his beer in hopes it'd help calm his racing heart and heated nerves. He inhaled deeply and forced his shoulders to sag when he exhaled, his eyes darting around the darkness until he calmed down and met (Y/N)'s stare. 

"You make a better guard dog than Summer." (Y/N) teased, his smile as calming and pretty as always. 

Being raised the way he was, Arvin heard plenty of religious talk. He'd believed in God once, back when his father imprinted it in his skull that he had to pray otherwise his mother would never heal from her sickness, but any belief died with his parents. He attended church on occasion and kept his mouth mostly shut when his grandmother and sister spoke of the bible and prayer but the belief never rose to full devotion and love like the others. He'd heard plenty of what was sin and what was not; man laying with man being spoken of as if it were the worst sin of all. Arvin could care less if someone loved another of the same sex but he knew little of how (Y/N) felt on the topic. 

"Yeah," He managed out weakly, his eyes snapping upward when he realized he'd been staring. His ears warmed with embarrassment and he drank again, finishing the bottle quicker than expected. "A guard dog bites, though. You never take the damn muzzle off." 

"You ain't got no muzzle, Arv. I got you on a leash, maybe." (Y/N) laughed lightly and Arvin wondered if his mind conjured up the flirtatious tone. "I take good care of you, don't I? Here makin' sure you don't get taken away by animal control." 

"It'd be for good reason-"

"Arv," (Y/N) groaned, lightly shoving his shoulder and lolling his head to the side. "You know I'd never let 'em take you unless I'm comin' too." 

Arvin hummed softly, chewing on the inside of his cheek 'cause despite his desire to get rid of such a filthy stain, where else would he find loyalty as strong as his if he lost him? Apart from his family, he had no one else, and he'd rather die than let anything happen to their friendship. Even if his thoughts plagued him with thoughts about how close they were or how easy it'd be to close the distance.

(Y/N) stared at him silently before exhaling heavily through his nose. "Arv," He said quietly and Arvin hummed again. "Will you keep a secret for me?" 

"'Course."

"Good." (Y/N)'s lips quirked up briefly before his warm hands landed on Arvin's cheeks and tugged him closer. 

Arvin immediately stiffened when they kissed, eyes widening with rigid shock that made him freeze up but his hands flew into action when he felt (Y/N) begin to pull away from him. His hands grabbed onto him, fingers hooking in the belt loops of his jeans and pressing him as closely as possible. Arvin closed the small distance with a kiss rougher than the first, too eager to ensure (Y/N) knew he felt the same but (Y/N) only chuckled and returned the affection just as roughly. 

"You ain't ever leavin' me, right, Arv?" (Y/N) asked breathlessly against his lips.

"Never."

[ethaninthewilde]

rereading tlt before the show comes out and

THEYRE LITERAL BABIES

at the scene where hades is trying to bargain for his helmet with sally and

annabeth, a girl who had been abandoned all her life, who met percy not even 2 weeks ago, offering to sacrifice herself for percy's mum

for the mother of a boy she only just met

grover, terrified of the underground, offering himself to save his best friends

annabeth, choosing to let herself be left behind again

grover, so scared of failing in his mission again, thinking it's all his fault

LITERAL BABIES

i am in tears

[echo-stimmingrose]

Grover is the satyr equivalent of 12-14 in the first book. He is a child.

When he was tasked with bringing Thalia to camp and failed he would have been at most 9 years old. He was traumatized by her death, and he no doubt blamed himself for it.

He was shamed by the cloven council at (max) 9 years of age for a death he would not have been strong or skilled enough to prevent. He knows the counsel would have preferred that he died trying to save her which likely would have ended up in his and Thalia's deaths. He sometimes wonders if he would have preferred that as well.

When he is trying to get Percy to camp safely Percy hears him muttering "sixth grade- they never make it past sixth grade!" A reference to Thalia and his first mission. Grover is knocked unconscious due to the minotaur but thankfully Percy is able to get to camp without dying. However, he loses his mom in the process. Another death Grover has on his conscience before she comes back.

Thalia, against all odds comes back as well and he's able to feel some kind of relief. He gets to see her alive again and can almost not feel guilty anymore. He starts to calm down, able to ease his own anxiety with the help of Percy and Annabeth. He works on no longer feeling like a failure.

Then he finds the Di Angelo's. The third and fourth big three kids Grover has stumbled across. He tries to hide his anxiety as he gets the two very young kids to camp, focusing on his task because he would not fail again.

They arrive safely to camp unfortunately at the cost of Annabeth being taken. He doesn't know what to feel. It seems his loved ones safety always comes with a sacrifice.

He's the first to volunteer for the quest for her after Thalia. He knows Percy wants to go as well and will not be happy that he can't but a part of Grover wants Percy to stay at camp. Stay where it's safe as selfish as that may be.

Of course his hopes of Percy staying put were unrealistic and he knew that. Percy was far too loyal to rest while someone he loves is in danger. He could sense Percy's anger and restlessness as soon as they left and he knew his best friend would catch up to them very soon.

Grover is now on a quest with three kids he found. Three kids he was tasked with protecting. Three kids from a group of five where two are fated to die.

Bianca is lost and Grover knows that unlike the last two, there is no hope for her return. Even then he digs through the rubble desperately, not stopping until Thalia pulls him away.

They are able to rescue Annabeth and return her to safety. But as always, the safety of his loved ones came with a cost. A sacrifice someone else had to make.