#hope you liked this anon and sorry it took so long

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ Rybas ⭑

Masterlist

A/N: I am so sorry anon for how long it took! (Like a month oops-) Still, I hope you like it ;)

Request: Yes

Pairing: Jealous!Aemond x Betrothed!Niece!Reader

Warnings: +18 MDNI, NSFW, very very possesive Aemy, toxic, reader riling Aemond up, argument mentioned, weak ass Baratheon, making out, tongue fucking ig? , oral (f receiving), p in v penetration, public sex (sort of iykyk) and orgasm denial oh and creampie duh

Summary: Due to an argument that ocurred between you and your betrothed before the feast, he chooses to ignore you. There is only one way to make his attention turn back to you.

Translation title: "Obey"

The air in the Red Keep was thick with the scent of roasted meats, honeyed wine, and the perfume of noble ladies, mingling together in a way that should have been enticing but only served to suffocate you. The hall was alive with music and laughter, the glow of thousands of candles reflecting off the golden plates and polished goblets. Your betrothal feast was in full swing, and yet, despite the grandeur of it all, you felt like a bird trapped in a gilded cage.

Seated at the high table beside your intended, your uncle Aemond, you barely acknowledged the festivities. Your chin rested on your palm as your fingers drummed idly against the surface of the table. Across from you, King Viserys sat, looking pleased and weary in equal measure, while Queen Alicent kept a watchful eye on her son. Helaena, ever the dreamer, seemed lost in her own world, speaking softly to herself as she toyed with her goblet.

Aemond’s presence beside you was a cold, steely weight. Normally, his intensity made you shiver with something close to pleasure, but tonight, after your earlier argument, it only frustrated you. His silence was deliberate, his long fingers curled around his goblet, his sharp jaw tense. He was ignoring you, punishing you for your defiance.

You had always been headstrong, never one to be controlled easily. The idea that you were to belong to Aemond, that you were to be his wife- made your blood hum with a mixture of excitement and irritation. You could respect him, even admire him in some ways, but you would not be tamed like a dog. That was the source of your earlier disagreement, a whispered but heated exchange in the gardens before the feast.

“You will not behave like some common girl, smiling at any man who looks your way,” he had said through clenched teeth, his fingers firm around your wrist.

“And you will not dictate who I may speak to, Aemond,” you had countered, lifting your chin in defiance.

He had said nothing after that, only releasing your wrist and stepping back, his single eye burning with irritation. Now, he barely acknowledged you, sipping his wine as if you were not sitting right beside him.

Fine, if that was how he wished to play it.

With a deliberate movement, you rose from your seat, the scrape of your chair against the stone floor drawing glances from those seated nearby. You felt Aemond’s eye snap to you, but you refused to look at him. Instead, you lifted your skirts and descended from the royal table into the waves of nobles below.

The air was livelier away from the high table, filled with laughter and conversation. Lords and ladies alike bowed or curtsied as you passed, offering their well-wishes and compliments on your upcoming wedding. You accepted them with polite smiles, though your mind was already set on a particular course of action.

It did not take long to find a suitable distraction. Lord Borros Baratheon’s younger brother, Ser Lyonel, was standing near the wine casks, speaking with a few other knights. He was broad-shouldered and handsome, with an easy smile and a glint of mischief in his dark eyes. A known flirt, he was precisely the type of man who would set Aemond’s already short temper alight.

You approached with an air of confidence, letting your lips curve into a charming smile. “Ser Lyonel,” you greeted, tilting your head. “Are the Baratheons enjoying the feast?”

He turned to you with a grin, giving a bow that was just deep enough to be respectful. “My lady,” he said, voice smooth. “We are indeed. But I must admit, the feast has grown far more interesting now.”

You laughed softly, placing a hand lightly on his arm as if joking. “You flatter me, Ser. But tell me, is Storm’s End as grand as they say?”

He launched into an enthusiastic retelling of his estate’s grandeur, and though you were only half-listening, you nodded along, laughing at the right moments, leaning in just enough to give the impression of intimacy. Aemond’s eyes burned into you from the high table, but you did not look his way.

Minutes passed, and the tension in the air grew heavier. It was only when Ser Lyonel reached for your hand, brushing his fingers over yours in a teasing gesture, that you heard it.

A chair scraping back, too harshly, too abruptly. The sound of boots striking against stone with measured purpose.

Aemond was coming.

You felt it before you saw him, the sheer force of his presence cutting through the crowd like a blade. The nobles around you quieted as he approached, his movements slow, controlled- dangerous. His sapphire eye gleamed in the dim light, his face a mask of fury. 

Ser Lyonel, sensing the shift in atmosphere, straightened but did not step away from you. An idiotic move. Aemond stopped beside you, his hand clamping around your wrist in a grip that was firm, possessive. “I believe you have entertained my betrothed long enough,” he said, his voice deceptively calm.

Ser Lyonel had the good sense to hesitate, glancing between the two of you. “Of course, my prince,” he said smoothly, though there was a hint of nervousness beneath his facade. “I meant no offense.”

“You would do well to remember that,” Aemond replied, his fingers tightening ever so slightly before he pulled you away.

You barely had time to protest before he led you through the crowd, his grip never loosening, his pace determined. He did not stop until you were away from prying eyes, in a shadowed alcove beyond the grand hall.

“Aemond-” You tried to speak.

The words barely left your lips before he had you pressed against the cold stone wall, his body caging yours in. His breath was uneven, his hands resting on either side of you, trapping you.

“You dare,” he seethed, his eye flashing with fury. “You dare to make a mockery of me in front of the entire court?”

You swallowed, but met his gaze with defiance. “Perhaps if you had not ignored me all evening, I would not have sought better company.” You snapped back.

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, he simply stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then, with slow deliberation, he lifted a hand, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw before tilting your chin upward.

“You belong to me,” he murmured, the words both a promise and a threat. “And I do not share.”

Your heart pounded, but you refused to look away. “Then do not give me reason to stray.”

His lips curled into something between a smirk and a snarl. “Oh, my sweet niece,” he whispered, pressing closer, his breath hot against your skin. “I will make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

And with that, he claimed your lips in a searing kiss, one that left no room for argument, no space for defiance- only possession. His tongue forced itself between your lips, his hands now moving to your waist. His fury and desire for you drove him to the brink of insanity. 

Aemond pulled you close against his body, his tongue dancing with yours in a heated exchange. You felt how hard you made him, his erection pressing against your stomach- and oh did it drive you further. Biting harder on his bottom lip, you drew slight blood from him, he groaned in response and the metallic taste swirled in both your mouths. 

A moan escaped your lips as Aemond grinded his clothed length against you, already he was desperate for friction. Clearly he had no patience left for your attitude- he need to fuck it out of you. It wasn’t the first time he had taken you, and certainly not the last.

Who could blame him for deflowering his niece before their wedding? Especially with your fluttering lashes and devious eyes, he couldn’t help it. You felt Aemond’s rough hands turn you around at your waist, the stone wall meeting your soft, heated cheek as he pressed you against it. 

The cold air hit your ever exposing skin as your soon to be husband hiked up the skirt of your dress. Helping him, you held up the bunched up fabric. You could hear him slicking up his fingers with his spit before he rubbed them through your already wet folds. 

He was furious and unforgiving- but not cruel. Even though he was more than ready to take you, he knew you always needed some preparation first. When he heard your mewls growing he dove in while spreading your thighs. His tongue entered your hole, drawing louder moans from you.

Your one hand held up your skirt while the other moved to Aemond’s head, begging him to come closer, to feed on your cunt. The sinful noise of Aemonds tongue lapping at your clit while sometimes tongue fucking your hole filled the empty dark space.  

If someone were to walk by, they would have a first row seat to the most vile show they had ever seen. But your betrothed felt how your walls tightend, your breaths coming out in short pants. Aemond knew you were close, he wasn’t going to let you off that easily.

He pulled back, lips and chin covered in your slick and he heard how you whined, he did not care. His hands moved to unbutton the lower buttons of his doublet before he undid the laces of his leather pants, his cock was straining against the fabric and he could no longer wait to ruin you. 

Yes- he would show you exactly how a Targaryen prince fucked, how the rider of the largest dragon in the world fucked. Removing his cock from his confines, he aligned it with your slick entrance, teasing you with his tip before harshly sliding in.

He made sure to fully bottom out, the feeling of his cock hitting your cervix so roughly made you cry out. It was a bit too loud, even for an empty hallway such as this. Aemond moved his hand over your mouth. “That’s what you get for your little act, you will take my cock and you will be grateful.” He sneered.

You nodded silently, giving in as Aemond started to pound into you. He was not lying, he would have no mercy tonight- and maybe, that’s how you liked it. He grunted and breathed heavily behind you as his cock felt the warm embrace of your walls.

Aemond knew he would never grow tired of the way your cunt enveloped him, the way the ridges of your walls stimulated his tip and shaft just right- He knew he had to be fast, they couldn’t stay away for long. 

He sped up his movements, fucking into you with such force that the noise of your connecting skin traveled through the Red Keep, over and over. The longer and harder he fucked you, the wetter you grew, making him able to thrust into you at a fast pace.

He was so so close, you could tell by the way his hips began to falter and Aemond grew louder himself. As his approach was nearing, he cared less and less for who heard, all he cared about was filling you up with his seed. 

He rolled his hips into you more deliberately, ensuring his tip got a delicious stimulation. That did it- his balls tightend as his release fills your tight cunt. Usually Aemond would stimulate your clit so you could cum together- but today he did not.  His back arched and he held you against him tightly, until he felt like he was fully empty. 

The way his sticky release ran down your thigh was an addicting feeling, but your clit still throbbed. He took note of your disappointing face looking back at him. “What? You thought you would get rewarded for your behaviour?” He tormented. “Show me you can be good the remainder of this insufferable night- and you might get what you want.” With that he made you return to the feast with his seed still dripping out of you.

[pukefactory]

Hello! Haha it's my first time in this blog and I love it so far! I love your hcs! I'm sorry if this is too specific of a request but Would you do one of Sprout X GN reader.

How would he react to a reader that used to be fun loving and silly become more Short tempered, and depressed when Garden view shut down? They've been isolating themselves out of fear they'll blow up at him.

If not any general hcs for him is also fine!

Hey, thank you so much for your kind words, Anon! I’m truly grateful that you and others enjoy my blog. Don’t worry—your request isn’t too specific at all, and I appreciate you providing such a clear prompt. I hope this meets your expectations!

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊ DEAD MALL ₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

✶ Summary: A compilation of headcanons featuring Sprout helping a melancholic reader

✶ Character(s): Sprout Seedly (Dandy’s World)

✶ Genre: Headcanons, Fluff, Angst, SFW

✶ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

✸ Sprout noticed the shift in your demeanor almost immediately. At first, he chalked it up to stress—after all, everyone was struggling with Gardenview’s shutdown in their own way. But as time passed, your usual playful energy remained absent, replaced by a lingering frustration that made you feel like a completely different person. It wasn’t just that you were quieter; you were angrier. It worried him more than he was willing to admit.

✸ He’s never been one for dancing around a problem, so when your mood didn’t improve, he confronted you about it directly. He didn’t mean to be pushy, but his concern overpowered any hesitation. “Something’s wrong,” he stated firmly, arms crossed as he stood in front of the opening to your room. “Talk to me.” Even when you tried to brush him off, he stood his ground, refusing to let you isolate yourself any longer.

✸ The first time you snapped at him, it caught him off guard. You hadn’t meant to, but the frustration had been building for so long that it slipped out before you could stop it. His expression faltered for just a second—just long enough for guilt to settle deep in your chest. But instead of arguing back, he exhaled sharply and took a step closer. “That’s not gonna scare me away,” he muttered, softer than usual.

✸ Sprout isn’t the best with words, but he is persistent. When you started isolating yourself, he made it his personal mission to check in every day—whether you liked it or not. If you wouldn’t come out of your room, he’d sit outside the door, chatting about whatever came to mind. “I tried a new pie recipe with Cosmo today. I think I messed up the crust, but he said it was still good. You would’ve liked it.” His voice was casual, but his meaning was clear: I miss you.

✸ He knew you were afraid of snapping at him again, but that wasn’t something he cared about. “I can handle you being mad,” he told you one night, his gaze unwavering. “What I can’t handle is you acting like I don’t exist.” It was the closest thing to vulnerability he’d been in a while, but if being honest was the only way to get through to you, then he’d rip his heart open as many times as it took.

✸ Despite his pushiness, Sprout never forced you to talk before you were ready. Instead, he found small ways to remind you that he wasn’t going anywhere. A freshly baked pastry left outside your room. A soft knock, followed by a quiet, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you want company.” No expectations, no pressure—just the promise that he was always within reach.

✸ When you finally started opening up again, it wasn’t a grand confession—it was a quiet, exhausted whisper as you sat beside him on one of the dining tables. “I just don’t want to say something I’ll regret.” He didn’t respond right away, just studied you for a long moment before finally murmuring, “Then I’ll just have to be patient, won’t I?” His usual bluntness was still there, but there was something softer beneath it, something only you got to see.

✸ As your mood slowly improved, he adjusted in kind. When you hesitated to reach out, he’d grab your hand first, squeezing it reassuringly. If you got frustrated and started spiraling, he’d guide you to the kitchen with a casual, “Help me bake something. You’re way better at kneading dough than I am.” Distractions, support, presence—he wasn’t always good with words, but he was good at being there.

✸ One of the few times you truly broke down, he didn’t hesitate. He let you cling to him, gripping the fabric of his scarf as sobs wracked your body. He didn’t try to shush you or tell you to calm down—he just held you, rubbing slow circles into your back. “You don’t have to act fine around me,” he murmured, voice steady despite the tightness in his chest. “You don’t have to pretend.”

✸ Over time, things got better. You weren’t the same toon you had been before Gardenview shut down, but you weren’t alone in that. Sprout had changed too—he had grown alongside you, adapting to your struggles without ever once making you feel like a burden. And through all of it, through every high and low, one thing had remained constant: he had never left your side.

[crazylittlejester]

I'm having a really shitty day, do you have any fluffy headcanons of the modern au Links? It doesn't have to be anyone in particular, I love them all (sorry if this is demanding, you can ignore this if you want to /gen)

i gotchu anon, im sorry to hear your day hasn’t been going well i hope you feel better 💙💙💙

- Twi is strong enough to hold (for brief periods of time at least) all of the dogs on the ranch, none of them are too heavy for him, so if they’re in the mood to be “lap dogs”, he can absolutely hold and cuddle them. Wolfie in particular loves to be held, and Twi will carry that dog around like a puppy because he loves him so so so so much and he gives him so many kisses and talks to him like a toddler. and Wolfie is obsessed with every second of it

- when War isn’t feeling good, mentally or physically, he’ll flop face down on his floor and his cat Tara will come sit by him and rub her head against his jaw until he picks her up and goes to his bed. Sometimes when its more of a mental health bad day he’ll call Wild and Wild will come over and make sure he eats something and just be there near him for as long as he needs (War does the same for him when he needs it)

- Sky loves to carve little birds for his girlfriend but he’ll also make little goats for Twi and little cats for War. Both of the boys have all the little figures Sky has made them on their desks so they can look at them

- Sky stress bakes because cooking is something that makes him feel calm and happy, so whenever he’s stressed out their apartment smells INCREDIBLE, and then he feels better by the end of it AND theres a delicious meal. Sometimes he’ll end up making more food than he, Twi, and War can reasonably eat so they’ll invite Legend and Hyrule up

- War’s cat Milo has a love for kitchen counters and so when Sky’s cooking and Milo is inevitably on the damn counter, Sky will call him “Chef” and say things like “Well we have to get the milk now, Chef Milo” as if the cat is going to help him open the fridge. Sky also sings/hums to himself as he cooks and Will end up singing/humming to the cat

- Twi goes through some pretty low lows with his mental health and sometimes he doesn’t have the energy to speak, but he’ll come silently sit next to War or Sky somewhere in the apartment and thats how the others know he’s looking for a little extra love so War will usually give him a cat to hold and they’ll watch a movie

- Every time War slips on a patch of ice on the pavement Twi makes fun of him because “mr world champion figure skater slips on patch of ice” will never NOT be funny to him, and War will hit/kick at his ankles until he falls down too

- Groose will sometimes send Sky texts like “haha fuck you, you loser, i caught this really cool ass bug and you dont have one of these” and Sky, out of sheer spite, will drop literally everything he is doing, go to the city park, and search for a cooler looking bug so he can respond with “FUCK YOU” and a 0.5 of whatever bug he found. This has gotten him out of bed on days where he was too depressed to move, this has made him go outside and walk around when he really REALLY needed it, because somehow Groose always knows when a good 30 minutes of looking in the dirt for bugs will be good for Sky and he always feels better afterwards

- War took Sky and Twilight skating once, led them both out into the middle of the rink, and then sped away, leaving both of them in varying degrees of distress. Sky was able to figure things out and get back to the edge, but Twi just stood there like a baby deer on a frozen pond (if either of them expressed being GENUINELY upset and scared, War would’ve gotten them immediately)

- Every so often they’ll have “sleepovers” where they all drag their shit into either War’s bedroom or the living room and watch movies until they fall asleep together on the floor/War’s bed. The cats join them every time

[silkythewriter]

I had an idea for a few headcanons you could do if ya want—

Maybe Sir Pentious with a reader who is so obviously in love with him, and keeps pining over him while literally everyone else but Sir Pentious himself can tell they like him? Like he's just really oblivous until reader finally straight up tells him.

Sir Pentious with a clearly in love reader!(●’◡’●)❤︎︎

Warnings!: Non!

Fandoms!:Hazbin hotel!

Author’s note!: HI HI OMG I LOVE SIR PENTIOUS HES SO SILLY!!!! I REALLY HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS AS MUCH AS I DID

Summary!: reader who’s clearly in love with our favorite snake demon

❤️Written by silkythewriter Do not steal or repost on any other platform please! ❤️

☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆

“Call me, you can call me

Boy, just call me (call me, call me)

While you stalling, I'm evolving

I'd give all me”

☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆

!🐍✨Sir Pentious✨🐍!

First of all, just to get out of the way, THIS MAN IS OBLIVIOUS!!!!, Autism be damned my boy can pull without even telling!!!!!

No but in all seriousness he is oblivious to your obvious longing for him.

Everyone can see you giving him shy longing stares only for him to be ranting about his latest invention. Not only would he not be able to tell but he’d always think your just being nice!

Of course he’s crushing hard behind his bedroom door to his little eggs. Happily stating and going on rambles of how gorgeous you looked today. He’d state everything! From the new hair style you tried to the new piece of clothing you bought and wore. When I mean he notices everything I mean it, but for some reason he can’t pick up on your obvious love for him.

The way he could stare in your eye as you tell him he looks breathtaking and still think you mean it just to be nice is astonishing. OF COURSE HES BLUSHING AND KICKING HIS TAIL, but he can’t bring himself to think you like him anymore than just friends!

He’d go to his egg boys and sadly rant on how you’ll only see him as friend. And the egg boys all share one Brain cell so they can’t tell you like him aswell!, maybe they might accidentally spill, or almost spill the secret of him liking you but he quickly knocks them away before you can make sense of what their saying.

All the residents watch as you do your best to drop hints only for him to complete miss it. Even angel cringes as he watches him completely be oblivious to the obvious flirting, it’s take Charlie and Vaggie to stop him from pointing out the obvious.

Husk almost always gives Sir Pentious as gaze of just utter confusion and tiredness.

He’d gladly take flowers from you that you gifted him and take care of it for weeks on end without realizing the romantic gesture!

Alastor, as always finds it humorous, although he usually doesn’t indulge himself in romantic like things he’s find it hilarious. “Even with three eyes he still can’t see the obvious! Ha!”

Charlie tries to help to the best of her ability to help guid him the right direction but it’s just end up with him more confused. Vaggie just face slaps internally,

honestly the whole crew wasn’t having high hopes for him as dim as that is. , look! He ain’t bad looking, but not many people would prefer his clumsy self, so they were honestly hoping he’d figure it out before you possibly moved on.

Even when your upset at the obvious frustrating situation he’s still be confused while trying to do his best to comfort you.

“Well I think the man isss clearly as dumb as a rock!”

It took you starring dead in his eyes for him to question if you were alright. Before you stated it was him

The way he just stood staring at you in pure disbelief, before snapping out of it and embarrassed as his previous words. But after the said embarrassment he’s full with giddy, why of course you love him!, he’s the great sir pentious!

Yea his embarrassment would quickly turn into pride, considering he got someone as beautiful as you to fall for him.

Definition of a clumsy gentlemen, he’d open doors so fast it’d smack him in the face, or pull when it’s a push door and be confused why it’s not opening.(´ω｀💧)

He’s just a silly lil guy! (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

I feel like the crew in the hotel would be relief to find he finally figured out.

At the end of the night he’s squealing like a high school girl as he rambles to his egg boys about you in a new light!.

He’s gift you small little trinkets or happily spend hours with you talking!

He’s as lovesick as your are! He’s just a bit dense when it comes to accepting the fact you love.

It’s like the roles switched! Now he’s daydreaming-ly staring at you happy to have you as his, and him a yours.

Like I’ve said before! He’s a total drama queen, he can’t help it!, deny him a kiss teasingly? He’s crumbling down to the ground and holding his chest as if he just had a heart attack! (¬_¬)

He’s not at all secretive of his love for you, even if he wants to, to keep his image “professional”, he just can’t help and dote on you!

overall he’s a big dote and softy even if he tries to hide it, loves you with his whole being! ( ˘ω˘ ) He can a be a bit over the top sometimes but you’ll come to accept it! And hey who wouldn’t want a silly snake demons who’s tripping over their tail for you. Yea you got him in and over his head but he wouldn’t have it any other way. The roles have truly reversed(≖ᴗ≖✿)

☆✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬✬☆

I LOVE HIS SILLY LIL SELF SO MUCH MORE PEOPLE SHOULD WRITE FOR HIM :(. TYSM FOR THE REQUEST I LOVED IT SM!!!! PLEASE COME AGAIN!!

[necrotic-nephilim]

au - tim sneaking out of jason's room one night at the manor and accidentally locking eyes with dick who is sneaking out of bruce's room at the exact same time, breakfast is very awkward the next morning

(i did think of having it be jason instead of tim but honestly jason has 0 shame and even less issue outing himself if it means fucking with bruce and, to a lesser extent, dick)

i'm cackling I love these types of things so much. they're so silly. sometimes we deserve mindless crack for these ships. have a *very* low effort ficlet bc this just makes me snort, enjoy <3

Dick closed Bruce's door as quietly as he could. Usually, he didn't have to sneak around when he slept with Bruce. But the temporary room Bruce had given Jason in the manor was just down the hall, and Dick didn't feel like looking Jason in the eye if he walked out of Bruce's bedroom in the morning at the wrong time.

Just because he was pretty sure Jason knew, didn't mean he needed confirmation and confrontation.

Dick had almost caved to staying in bed with Bruce when Bruce tried to pull him back down, but he kept some level of wits about him, prying Bruce's arm off of him and giving him a final kiss on the cheek before heading for the door.

The one thing Dick did allow himself, though, was wearing one of Bruce's shirts instead of his own. It was a size too large on him but smelled safe and comforting. Dick breathed a quiet sigh of relief when the door latched silently. He let go of the handle, turning around to creep off to his own bedroom in another wing.

And found himself staring at another figure.

With all of the lights off and only faint moonlight streaming through the windows, Dick couldn't tell who it was, at first. His reaction was embarrassing no matter who it was, jumping nearly a foot backward and clutching a hand over his chest.

He was a goddamn vigilante. This was just embarrassing.

The other person wasn't nearly as shocked as Dick, but they stood perfectly still, staring with wide eyes that faintly reflected what little light illuminated their face. Dick squinted, leaning forward to see who it was.

"Tim?" Dick hissed, trying to keep his voice to a whisper. Bruce had fallen asleep and if Dick woke him up now, he was never going to get the stubborn bastard back to bed.

Tim, still looking like a deer in headlights, just blinked at Dick.

"What are you doing up this late?" Dick asked. They'd all agreed to take tonight's patrol off, letting Babs, Helena, Dinah, and Zinda handle it in exchange for tackling the massive human trafficking ring in the morning with fresh eyes and cleared heads. The job was the only thing that had gotten Jason to agree to work with them in the first place. Bruce barely managed to strong-arm Jason into sleeping in the manor, with a decent amount of guilting from Alfred.

Jason, who was in the room only a few feet away from Dick. The room that Tim's hand was resting on the doorknob of.

"That's Jason's room," Dick said slowly.

Tim just nodded. "I know." He wasn't whispering like Dick was, but his tone remained impossible to read.

He just saw Dick walk out of Bruce's room. Had he put it together? It was Tim, after all. if he hadn't yet, Dick assumed he only had a couple minutes before it dawned on Tim.

"What were you doing in Jason's room?" Dick frowned. If he focused on Tim, it could keep the focus off of him for as long as possible. Dick tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating.

Tim's expression was hard to make out in the dark. "We were talking about the case." Still, his tone remained entirely neutral.

Too neutral, for Tim.

"At two am?"

"Well, what were you doing?" Tim huffed slightly when he said it, folding his arms over his chest.

He was shirtless, Dick just realized.

Shirtless and coming out of Jason's room.

"I was-" Dick stumbled over his words, choking as he tried to come up with an alibi. "We were talking about the-"

"I already used that excuse, pick your own," Tim deadpanned. Dick was pretty sure he also rolled his eyes. "I've known about you and Bruce for years, you know. You don't have to pretend."

The noise that came out of Dick's throat was almost as mortifying as the realization that not only did Jason likely know, but so did Tim.

"It... okay it has not been years," Dick's face was hot and he was glad it was too dark for Tim to see his blush. "I mean- it's been a while but not years-"

"Whatever you say." Tim shrugged, sounding unconvinced. "There have been feelings between you two for years, close enough for me."

If Dick died, right here, in this hallway in front of Bruce's door, he hoped the cause of death would be put down as homicide instead of natural causes. Because every word from Tim's mouth made another piece of Dick die inside, just a little.

"It's none of your business either way." Dick tried to stand up straight to sound more in control of the situation, clearing his throat.

"Trust me, I don't want it to be my business."

Dick would've laughed, if this was happening to anyone but him.

"What about... you and Jason?" Dick asked carefully.

Tim shifted on his feet. "What about it? I told you, we were talking about the case."

"Right." It was Dick's turn to roll his eyes. "In his bedroom, at two am, without your shirt?"

Tim stared at Dick for a long, torturous moment. A moment that made Dick agree with Tim, about not wanting to know any sordid details.

"I'm going to bed," Tim said suddenly, turning away from Dick. "Goodnight."

Dick had a thousand more questions he wanted to ask. How Tim and Jason even got together, when it happened. Last Dick knew, they could barely stand to be in the same room.

But Tim was walking away at an alarmingly brisk pace and Dick just sighed. He was too tired and mortified about his own secrets to chase Tim down for an impromptu interrogation that would just end up embarrassing them both more.

Maybe it was best for Dick's sanity if he didn't know the specifics.

Dick didn't consider how awkward it would be until he was standing in the kitchen, staring at Jason bent over a cup of coffee.

Did Jason know Dick knew? It didn't seem like he did, but he had always had a good poker face.

When Tim ambled into the kitchen and grabbed overnight oats from the fridge, he didn't even look at Dick. He seemed to be pointedly avoiding it, sitting as far away from Dick as he could at the oversized dining room table.

All while Dick couldn't seem to stop staring.

"Your cereal is going to get soggy," Jason muttered, and it took Dick a moment to realize Jason was talking to him. "At least eat it before trying to explode my head with your mind, or whatever your staring problem is."

"I'm not-" Dick stuttered. he shut himself up with a mouthful of cereal when Cass gave him an odd look.

Would she be able to figure it out just from his body language?

Dick had never fully understood the lengths her ability to read people could go. he looked away from her and stared at a random spot on the table, trying to eat at a normal pace.

Bruce was the last to wander into the kitchen. He squeezed Dick's shoulder as he walked by, making Dick jump. It was an innocent enough touch that no one would question, but all Dick could think about was the brief look from Tim before he quickly averted his eyes again.

The silence around the table was going to eat Dick alive. He started eating cereal faster.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Jason broke the tension, throwing his head back and slamming an empty mug down onto the table. "Everyone knows you two are fucking, alright?" He gestured between Dick and Bruce. "Stop being so goddamn weird about it, you're acting like there's a bomb in the room."

Bruce choked on his coffee. "Jason." He tried to sound reprimanding, but his voice was a few octaves too high.

Dick threw his hands in the air. "I knew you knew about that, but I didn't know about you and Tim until last night so excuse me for feeling a little awkward."

"You didn't know about what?" Bruce nearly yelled, spinning around to face Jason.

"Damnit, Dick!" Tim groaned, putting his head in his hands.

Jason just scoffed, pointing a fork at Bruce. "Oh don't even give me that self-righteous bullshit-"

Their argument went back and forth while Tim just rubbed his temples, muttering to himself and glaring at Dick.

Worst of all, Dick was pretty sure Cass was giggling next to him under her covered mouth.

Dick just sighed and ducked his head, dutifully waiting for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

So much for his breakfast.

[komystda]

tim character animation practice! this took a lot longer than it shouldve

when first getting back into marble hornets last month a huge inspiration was the lovely @sickhoondr and their style of drawing the characters, so a huge thank you for the fantastic art 🐟 💙 and making me want to make these silly moving pictures

hopefully i can make more of these but this took a while HAHA

Here's some different versions and progress for anyone thats curious:

from storyboards to final, i hope you guys enjoy the little animation haha. more to come, so as always stay tuned

[stellar-haikyuu]

guardian deity ☆ nishinoya yuu x reader

synopsis: reader is incredibly unlucky with ball-related sports, but volleyball might be an exception, thanks to a certain guardian deity. details: silly/crack | accidental friends | opposites attract | first meeting | 1,277 words | gn! reader | requested by anon as part of my karasuno writing event | my entry for @phantasmaebg warnings: none!

You’re not exactly a sporty person. Why? Sports doesn’t seem to like you very much.

Regular exercise, running, swimming, cheerleading, and aerobics—those things were fine. But when balls were involved? You did not stand a chance.

It all started with dodgeball. The whole point was to avoid the balls, and for someone who sucked at ball sports, the fear should have made it easier. Unfortunately, you’re incredibly clumsy. You trip on a stray ball, falling to the floor. Within seconds, you’re pelted with more dodgeballs and called out of the game.

Basketball was terrifying, having to run into people and have them chase you. It was embarassing enough to be passed the ball, only to run in the opposite direction. That was the one time you were glad to be horrible at shooting. After that, you never tried to go for the ball. Your teacher was kind enough to never call you out on it—he quickly learns it’s not worth another clinic trip.

As if the close contact and chasing in basketball wasn’t enough, you’re thrown into soccer. With two left feet, this is the worst-case scenario. Now you’re definitely more aware of what direction you should be running in, but you cannot believe how easy it is for the opposite team to steal the ball. And the one time you’re running towards the right goal, you kick the ball way out into the field.

You beg for a break once high school rolls around, but it seems your prayers weren’t answered.

Handball…soccer but using hands, you think. With your lack of coordination, you often volunteer to be the goalie; at least you could block something with any part of your body. Alas, you’ve taken a couple of handballs to the face. 

And get this, you weren’t even in school for this one: somehow, you managed to damage bowling alley property on an afternoon hangout with friends. That also involved slipping on the bowling lane, countless balls in the gutter, and almost dropping a ball on your foot.

At this point, almost everyone knew about your laughable luck with ball sports—or lack thereof. You just sigh, hoping to see the day you are no longer obligated to do these activities.

“Would you mind giving this to Takeda-sensei at the gym? He’s coaching the volleyball team at the moment.”

You take the paper envelope from your teacher and nod. “I’ll get it to him.”

“Thank you, dear. See you tomorrow!”

As you leave the faculty room, you’re immediately filled with unease. 

You’d rather not enter the gym while a team is actively practicing, but you don’t really have a choice.

At least you’re not playing the sport, you think.

You step out into the open area, quickly locating the school gym. The squeaking of sneakers are audible from a distance, followed by some rather harsh hits. It’s enough to send a chill up your spine.

Slowly, you walk, trying to prolong the distance between you and the gym door. Eventually, it’s within arms reach, and you take a deep breath before opening it.

And goodness.

Aren’t you just lucky?

“Look out!” 

At first, you don’t register the warning, but the sight of a volleyball hurtling toward you is enough to snap you back into reality.

You raise your arms to protect yourself, hoping that for once in your life, your reaction time can save you.

But the ball never hits you.

Smack!

The sound of ball meeting flesh echoes through the gym, and it takes you a second to realize you’ve just been saved. 

A whistle blows, and the game stops. In the corner of your eye, you see the volleyball rolling away on the floor.

When you put your arms down, you see someone in front of you—a boy with his knees bent and arms outstretched. He must have taken the hit.

“Are you okay?”

“M-Me?” You stammer. “I should be the one asking if you’re okay!”

“Pfft, of course I am!” He gives you a reassuring grin. “Receiving volleyballs is my thing.”

You blink, unsure what to say to that.

“Hinata, you dumbass!” A yell takes you by surprise. “Look where you’re spiking, you nearly hit someone!”

“Huh? I still have to close my eyes, remember?” 

“Oi, oi, calm down you two!”

You’re momentarily taken aback by this display of team dynamics. You hope it’s not serious, considering that you’ve sometimes been on the end of a hotheaded teammate.

Thankfully, nothing escalates. In fact, Hinata—if you assumed correctly—bounds over to where you’re standing. “Noya-san! That was so cool! You moved so fast like zoom!”

Another team member with a buzzcut follows suit, clapping your savior on the back. “That’s our guardian deity.” Then, he acknowledges you with a rather unsubtle waggle of his eyebrows. “This guy has killer reflexes.”

“I see…” You respond, a little speechless.

The orange-haired boy somehow materializes at your side, jumping up and down. “Right? Right? Senpai is the best!”

You glance at this Noya-san. He seems to blush at the praise. 

Though he tries to act cool about it, you can tell it means a lot to him.

“Hey, uh thanks,” you state, finally finding the words. “For saving me.”

“No problem! It’s what I do!”

His glee is so infectious, you can’t help but feel energized. 

“Hello there, I’m Sawamura Daichi.” You realize that another boy is approaching all of you. “I’m the team captain. I sincerely apologize for this, we’ll be more careful next time.”

“Ah, it’s alright, I promise,” you shake your head. “I’m used to this stuff.”

“Used to it?”

“I’m really unlucky with ball sports.” You clarify. “If you’ve heard the rumors, then that would be me.” 

“Ah, I see.” Some sort of recognition appears on his face, though he doesn’t comment any further. “Anyway, is there something you need from us?”

You suddenly remember the envelope you’re holding in your hands.

“Ah. I was looking for Takeda-sensei. I had to give him this?”

“Oh, he’s over there.” He looks towards the other end of the gym, where two adults watch your group with curiosity. “Sensei, they have something for you!”

“Go on ahead,” Sawamura smiles. “I’ll give the team a break to avoid any accidents.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” you bow to him before approaching the literature teacher.

As you hand over the letter and engage in some small talk with him, you can feel Noya staring at you from the distance. You try not to think much of it until your interaction with Takeda-sensei ends.

After making your way to the gym entrance, you give their team captain a thumbs up to resume practice.

He calls everyone’s attention, but Noya remains by the door, almost as if he wants to tell you something.

To your surprise, you decide to beat him to it.

“Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

His eyes widen. “Repay me? What? No, that’s…uh-”

Buzzcut passes by and dramatically whispers, “Garigari-kun popsicles. Soda flavor.”

“Ryuu!” Noya hisses, drawing a laugh out of you.

“Is that your favorite? I wouldn’t mind treating you to one.”

Noya seems to hesitate at your offer. “Only if you insist, but you really don’t-”

“I insist,” you cut him off. “You’re my one stroke of luck after years of being involved in ball sports. I feel like I should be honoring you.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but no words come out.

“Anyway, I’ll be at Sakanoshita until the evening to study. Meet me there, yeah?”

“I…okay.”

“Alright,” you turn to exit the gym. “See you after school, guardian deity.”

Before leaving, you pretend not to notice how his face flushes once more.

masterlist

[luminique]

if i may... late night bike rides with lighter 🫶

whether you know how to ride a bike or not, most of the late night bike rides are on his bike. he makes sure that everyone is asleep before heading out with you. this way, he could have your arms wrapped around his waist as he drives out of blazewood. the road is pretty smooth for the most part so he takes this as a chance to sneak his hand onto yours, as if to fix your hand placement. in reality, it’s his way of knowing that you’re there, holding onto him.

it gets colder during the night in the outer ring. no blazing sun, the skies are clear, the iridescent edges of multiple hollows. he knows the perfect spot to stop at that had the best views. he clumsily removes his gloves off before putting a hand out for you to hold as you got off the bike. he has all these sharp parts on his gloves and he does not want you getting poked by it.

the stars twinkled across the night sky, it was breathtaking. with the outer ring depending on oil rigs, carbon emissions were high and yet it seemed like this was the only area untouched by it. your eyes may have been on the stars but his eyes were on you. you’d tell him to take his shades off because what’s the point of wearing them at night but he doesn’t want you to see how smitten he is.

it started off with just sitting on the ground. then it progressed to laying down side by side while talking. after a while, he’d notice your change in speech. how you’re talking slower and quieter. that was when he knew that you were getting a little tired. so as usual, he makes sure you’ve got something comfy under your head.

using his arm, he’d guide you to place your head on it. he’s definitely going insane at this moment but you were too busy trying to fight off your sleepiness to even notice his flushed face. you were practically talking nonsense now at this point and then a sudden silence mid sentence.

he doesn’t dare wake you up, instead choosing to watch you sleep. the way your chest goes up and down with every breath, your body unconsciously moving closer to his, searching for some sort of warmth. with his scarf, he’s slowly wrapping it around your neck instead. it’s not that big but it’s enough for the time being. the sound of your breathing and the sounds of wind in the outer ring, he finds it serene enough to rest his eyes, falling asleep right next to you.

you’re woken up by the soft light of the sunrise, eyelids fluttering open. you don’t see lighter next to you but his scarf is still wrapped around you. his voice calls out to you, casually leaning against his bike. he’s facing the sunrise but his eyes are on you. he wouldn’t mind doing this again, as long as it means he gets to spend time like this with you.

[lokh]

what do you think toshiro's version of laios would've been like if he was still with the group during the shapeshifter shenanigans

there have been a few speculations in the tag and among the fans and they are all very good SO i am going to take this opportunity to insert a bit of my shipping bias as i like in my interpretation LMAO agdsfgdfgv

i noted that in actuality shuro seems to have a very good grasp on laios' character??? this is most obvious in the manga later on but even seeing how he criticises laios in their fight... iirc nothing he says is actually untrue or wildly exaggerated, and while he does express frustration over something he feels like laios Should have control over (noticing his cues), he is also aware that laios isnt being malicious and that hes Just Like That. what i mean to say is that while i think his version of laios may seem more pushy and in-your-face, i dont think it will be overwhelmingly so. if its post-fight, i think the idea of laios (and marcille) being willing to do anything to get falin back made a big impression on him, as well as the idea that they need to eat and rest in order to succeed in their goals, so those aspects would be prominent in his version. he seems pretty observant, so i think for the most part the physical traits would line up, but i think there would be specific things that stand out to him that would appear strangely striking on his version of laios (like. idk something about his eye colour or the subtle contrast of his armour and chainmail. he seems to have a weird sense of aesthetics if extras are anything to go by lmao). if hed actually been paying attention all those times laios had gone on about what the hell ever, then it might be even MORE hard to tell apart his version since he would also have a good grasp on what laios should know. so either his version of laios is pretty difficult to pick out, OR despite the character being accurate his appearance is too. stylised lmao (exaggerated features or something) OR!! they just get him to pull out his monster gourmet guide thing and are able to tell from there. iirc everyone was surprised at its appearance so its possible toshiro had also never seen it before

IN MY IMAGINARY SHIPPING SCENARIO............ lets say that his laios isnt able to be picked out immediately and that the monster guide thing also doesnt immediately occur to anyone. what the real laios Specifically notices is how close this other laios keeps getting to shuro. and hes like. ??? why is he getting so close to him, theres no way i get that close to him??? but no one else seems to be picking up on it as weird, so hes having a small crisis like do i REALLY get that close to him???? and now that hes on the outside he notices shuro subtly leaning away and he feels both a wave of shame and..... protectiveness??? (JEALOUSY??????) and he immediately steps in and grabs him like Hey!!! cant you see hes uncomfortable???? weve been through this already!!! and like. ok i cant believe im doing this again but i need to separate this into different endings

a) the whump route: i dont think shuro ever envisioned Actually Telling laios about his frustrations outside of being basically cornered into it. has he ever spoken up against what was expected of him?? has he ever been confrontational???? i think part of what held him back from expressing his frustrations, along with the cultural norms, could be fear of what the reaction would be. if he had done the same in any other aspect of his life (his family, his inheritance), i think he would expect disappointment, disapproval, more proof that he doesnt add up to expectation. to be honest i dont think he Truly believes that laios is the type of person to react like this. but it was strong enough to prevent him from acting and i think would be projected onto his image of laios. maybe fake!laios says something dismissive like Well if it really bothered him hed say something right? what, he cant even stand up for himself? cmon, shuro, prove that you cant handle it just like everything else. and thats pretty much the fastest giveaway that it isnt really laios. of course this would be a HUGE tonal departure from what the actual episode/chapter was, so:

b) the dumbass route: both laioses break into fisticuffs, and, yes.... barking. and so they speedrun the entire encounter as the shapeshifters true form appears and, after laios points out that thinking too hard about others versions of you can tear apart groups and peace of mind, they pointedly do not speak of it again. they think about it though. a LOT

c) the normal route: both laioses argue normal like and the group ends up being able to tell them apart because the fake laios goes on a little too long about how theyre all here for falin and everyones like ok its not like he DOESNT love his sister but.......... the rest of the scenario probably goes like canon, though then i would want to see what everyone Else thought of shuro

[aelswiths]

Aethelflaed and Uhtred in 3x04

Requested by Anonymous

[paceyjoeydaily]

DAWSON’S CREEK | 3x22 - “The Anti Prom” 

[juiceofmoons]

They are called kitsune, and some are divine and some are mischievous or wicked.

skz as mythical creatures:

˚ʚ🦊ɞ˚

Yang Jeongin -> kitsune

requested by -> anon 🐾

･ﾟpins･ﾟ

[marqenobi]

EP 07, BERLÍN 2023

[mumms-the-word]

Maybe for an angst one shot could you please write Minthara x human fem!tav? How Minthara knows her girlfriend will get older quicker and won’t be able to live for hundreds of years like her

Hey anon!!! I am SO sorry it took me forever to get to this but here you go!! Some unexpected Minthara angst for your day :’)

~*~*~*~*~*~

Immortality

It began the day Minthara saw her lover staring at her reflection in the mirror. The beginning of a long, drawn out ending that was paradoxically, frighteningly, all too close.

She had paused in front of the mirror, Minthara’s lover had, lifting a hand to tuck some of her long hair behind her round ear when they both saw it. The first gray strands, standing out starkly against her lover’s dark hair.

Minthara said nothing that day. She simply watched as her lover pulled back more of her hair, silently counting the strands, before leaning in to examine other features. The tiny lines around her eyes, the lines around her mouth. She dragged her hand absently down the column of her throat and turned her head this way and that, simply looking.

Looking for signs of age.

The examination had taken mere seconds. After that, her lover had merely frowned briefly in the mirror before fixing her hair and turning away, moving on to her next task. But the memory burned into Minthara’s mind, bringing with it thoughts and fears that Minthara had never yet dared to entertain.

She wouldn’t live forever. Minthara had always known that. With lives as dangerous as theirs, always dodging a blade in the dark, always attempting to stay two steps ahead of the next poisonous scheme, they were not guaranteed tomorrow, let alone a lifetime with each other.

But that wasn’t what bothered Minthara. To live a few months with her lover and lose her to an assassin’s blade or the schemes of the drow matrons was simply the threat of reality. She had lost countless lovers in such ways before. Though this woman, her beloved, meant so much more, Minthara was prepared after a lifetime of loss to deal with the grief of losing her to war.

Minthara had not been prepared to face the possibility of losing her lover to mere time.

She was over two hundred years old, while her lover had barely a few decades to her name. Her lover would be fortunate to make it, bent and worn and gray, to the end of a century. At the end of a century, Minthara would merely be a century older, looking little different than she did now.

But she would be without her lover.

It was pathetic, how much the thought burrowed down into her brain and squirmed there, like that wretched tadpole had once done, whispering old half-truths and prejudices of her time in Menzoberranzan. Old memories that had lain dormant, until now. She recalled the priestess of House Vandree, how she had shared her bed for countless nights, and how she had held her close, whispering comforts in her ear as the poison took over her body.

Poison that had coated Minthara’s lips, transferred with a kiss.

She would not let Menzoberranzan take another lover from her. She would not let blind duty steal the joys of her love for her beloved. She was determined to stand between her lover and every killing blow, to go out first, if at all possible.

But her beloved was human. If Menzoberranzan didn’t take her, time would. 

Time was not something Minthara could stop or silence or stab. But perhaps it was something she could out-scheme.

She had brought up suggestions to her lover in the following days. Vampirism, perhaps—if Astarion could be convinced, after a hundred favors and deals, to make her a full vampire. Or perhaps a dark ritual, some spell that was just out of reach. Perhaps the new God of Ambition would have ideas, or another of their allies would find a solution. They could depart for the astral plane, to live un-aging among the stars.

But her beloved hadn’t shown interest in any of these ideas. “I don’t think I would stay myself if I traveled down that path,” she would say to almost every suggestion. “I promise, I am content.”

But Minthara was not. They had battled against gods and monsters, men and beasts. They had felled dragons together. They had raised armies together and pulled each other from the jaws of death. 

To lose her in war, Minthara could handle. The loss would be great, driving her nearly to madness, and the vengeance greater still, but in vengeance perhaps there would be relief. What vengeance could she take against time?

Once more, poison lingered in her mind. Vials of exquisite, rare poison, glittering gem-like in their crystal bottles. One drop on the lips would be enough. A kiss of death.

Perhaps they ought to go out together, lying side by side, counting their final breaths as their skin cooled and their heartbeats grew slow and faint. Perhaps someone would find them, still lying together. Perhaps in two hundred, three hundred, one thousand years someone would find their bones untouched, the skull of one laying against the ribcage of another.

Obscurity did not seem so terrifying when she thought of the future like that.

The treacherous thought lingered in her mind until at last her lover said something that changed her mind.

“Promise me something, Minthara,” she said, as they lay together in the darkness. “Promise that once I’m gone, you will carry our name for us.”

Minthara sat up. “My love—”

“Swear it,” she said, sitting up too. “An oath, Minthara. That no matter when I die, you will live on. That you will carry our house and burn our name into the annals of history.”

“I will not let you die,” Minthara said, her voice full of rasping pain. “I will find a way—”

“My love,” her beloved said, cradling her cheek. “We all die. I do not fear death. Nor do I fear the ravages of time. I know you do, because I can see it in your eyes every time you look at me. I think you fixate on these gray hairs more than I do.”

Minthara said nothing. There was no defense to make against such a statement.

“Swear an oath to me that no matter when I die—and make no mistake, I hope to live for many years with you at my side—but that when I die you will live on and that you will keep our house and our name alive. For me.”

“I cannot. To face the centuries ahead without you at my side—”

“You can.” Her lover held her face in both hands now, eyes full of tenderness and quiet strength. Confidence and sorrow. Full of love, for her. “You keep asking me how I might prefer immortality. This is how. By you going forward and carrying my name with you. Carve my name—our name—on the pages of history, over the doorframes of your homes, into the very foundations of Menzoberranzan itself. Carry our banners across the continent and establish the empire of your dreams with armies bearing our crest on their armor. Make it so that long after I’m gone, there is not a soul on this earth that doesn’t know our name. That is how I’d prefer immortality.”

Her beloved dropped her hands and faced her fully, sitting on her knees, and held out her hand. “Swear it, my love.”

Minthara stared at her hand. “But the future will be empty without you.”

“Swear it.”

“What use is an empire without its empress?”

Her lover just smiled. “Minthara. Swear.”

Minthara struggled again but finally broke, taking her lover's hand. “I swear it. On my oath, I will not rest until our name is known on every continent.” 

With the oath sinking into her bones, Minthara bent forward, pressing a kiss into her beloved's palm. She lingered there, soaking in the warmth of her skin, the feel of her battled-toughened fingers curling beneath her chin. Her lover raised her face and kissed her, deep and tender, tasting the oath on Minthara’s tongue. Minthara let herself be lost in that kiss, in the fantasy of this moment never ending. When they finally broke for air, it was too soon.

“And now, my love?” Minthara whispered.

“Now we make every day count.”

[atopvisenyashill]

Aligon takes please I'm beg you

i hope this answer is what you’re looking for lol i think my preferred take on this one isn’t that much more sexual than what they have in canon, it’s more about reframing their in canon dynamic with the caveat that over the years, they have developed romantic & sexual feelings for each other. i have like, a few really specific aus in my head and i love to follow those down the rabbit hole, but when it comes to their canon dynamic, where they are still in love with each other (because they are, i’m right, just like with visaemonyra) and the dance still happens, my preferred dynamic takes like,,,,, a long time to simmer.

Obviously this is a weird mix of show canon and book canon. I always imagine Alicent just slightly younger than she is in the book (to keep her as a confidant and lady to Rhaenyra at court, more of a big sister role than what they have in the show, but also I like her being a young mom, and also I like when Jace is a bit closer in age to Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena). Just roll with it here lmao. Also also, I want to lay some ground rules for some terms I'm using here because I'm not sure people are familiar with like, clinical talk, nor do they recognize that this behavior is abusive.

So "emotional incest" is when an adult relies on their child to meet emotional needs that child is not prepared for. you've probably heard the term "parenification" which is a form of emotional incest wherein a child is expected to act like a parent to their own parent, and that is similar to what i'm talking about in that it's also emotional incest but what i mostly see in aegon and alicent's dynamic is "enmeshment" which is a little to the left of parentification - basically the idea that a parent doesn't have the correct physical or emotional boundaries in place with a child. children who experience enmeshment often respond by being people pleasing, incapable of setting boundaries, and unable to discern when someone else is setting a boundary. this is something you can clearly see with both of their behavior already in canon - she violates his personal space in at least half the scenes we have of them interacting, and aegon is clearly completely unaware of sexual and emotional boundaries. i’m sure there’s plenty we don’t see that’s just as weird, or weirder (which is were i come in lmao).

I think Alicent will go along with his bad behavior at times because she wants him to be more measured, more kingly, more assertive, so she wants him to boss her around a bit but also, she does not appreciate her son bossing her around nor is she willing to face with the fact that her power once he's king is all theoretical because it terrifies her. I think the crux of this dynamic is that Aegon wants to prove he can be a better king - a better husband - than Viserys was, and he’s conflating affection and sex and family in his mind bc his Model For Masculinity includes Viserys, Criston, and Otto and that’s just,,,,,a fucked up combo of anger, manipulation, and devotion. Meanwhile, Alicent withholds affection because it’s the only motivator that gets to him, and yet this affection is literally the most intimate she has ever been with anyone but his older sister.

examples-

I think it's very likely that she is regularly in his room having private conversations with him, and she chooses weird times of the day to catch him off balance (because she wants a real answer and not bullshit) (and also because he's like, asleep during the day).

Very likely to me that she dictates his wardrobe in the same way Otto dictated hers when she was younger but I think it goes farther in her being in the room when he’s being dressed/dressing him herself - he’s hungover, and she’s the queen and he’s the future king so The Queen Must Deal With The Problem On Her Own, because of course, she would never subject sweet, fragile Helaena to this sort of thing.

When I say "weird" I mean weird - she's asking him about his relationship with Helaena, she's telling him about her own issues with Viserys and Otto and Criston, maybe hinting that she doesn’t like Larys, she's dictating his every move and trying to keep him on a schedule and get him to take his studies seriously, she's comparing him to Helaena and Aemond (not favorably), she's likely leaning on him for validation when she's having issues with Viserys and Otto, possibly even asking him for advice on how to handle his siblings and then guilting him when he doesn't give an answer she likes.

On the flip side, I think it's likely he also sleeps in her bedroom a lot. Probably this started as a whiny, needy, "i had a nightmare" or "i just sleep better here" or "you're the one who wakes me up anyway why can't i just sleep here" that alicent just gives into because it's easier than arguing about it, and also, she's trying to encourage him to be pushy about things he wants and affection is clearly something he desires.

Obviously this is less of an issue as Viserys gets older but we don't really know when they stop having sex, and I like to believe that it happens often that he will call for Alicent to come to his room while Aegon is sleeping in there, and Aegon just waits around for her to come back and loses his mind over it. He remembers the exact day that Daeron was conceived, it is burned into his memory. yes, aegon has emotions about essentially being cucked by his own dad.

Once he marries Helaena, there's a fair amount of forcing him into the role of Alicent's spouse and Alicent acting as his wife. When there are events at King's Landing - tourneys, birthdays, celebrations, religious holidays, someone important is visiting for a meeting so they're having a big dinner, etc., - Alicent is often escorted by Aegon and not Viserys. This is partially Otto wanting everyone to see Aegon, partially Alicent worrying Helaena can't take the strain of the spotlight, and partially Alicent feeling she needs to keep an eye on Aegon to make sure he behaves.

When she's fighting with Otto or Viserys, she will go to Aegon to make herself feel better. A lot of times it starts off as taking her anger out on him but once she's calmed down, it morphs into spending the day with him, even discussing her problems with his father or her father with him. Similarly, I think it's likely that if he gets snapped at by Otto or ignored when he wants attention from his father, he'll go to her for comfort. The sheer amount of crying he does obviously disgusts her but I think she'd react very differently if he's crying because of something Otto said, and the difference in reaction (ie comfort instead of scorn) makes Aegon go to her more because she'll be physically affectionate with him even while she's explaining all the ways in which he's fucked up. Like a date, but more fucked up basically.

if we want to enter into dead dove territory here a bit...

the co-sleeping takes on a more sexual nature after Helaena has the twins. I think it freaks Aegon out that he's a young father the same as she was a young mother, and vice versa, and the fact that both of them are purposefully missing these big milestones when it comes to being a parent because they have a hard time connecting to their children means that when Aegon starts missing these things, Alicent wants to confront him over how lucky he is to have the freedom to decide how to raise his own child, and that makes Aegon feel very weird about his own relationship with her - because she is the only parent he has any sort of connection with yet she's saying she was denied a connection to him.

Anyways, I think he starts just straight up feeling her up after that. This is something I think she would justify very easily in her mind but also, it's something she can take control of - we get that moment at the coronation where he's hugging her tight, but she pulls his hand off yet keeps hold off his hand. I think it's likely he would claim he's just like, tired, wants to hug his mother, while his hand is right on her breast, and she would move it but she'd still keep him close - over her stomach, on her hip, in her hair, around her neck. This is the most affection she has gotten,,,,basically since she and Rhaenyra stopped speaking.

When she starts feeling weird about this, she makes him spend a few nights with Helaena. When he sees her be carelessly - and normally - affectionate with Aemond or Helaena, he spends a night with Helaena and makes sure Alicent knows he's spending the night with Helaena. I think it’s even likely he’d go to Helaena and then insist on sleeping in Alicent's bed, and Alicent is just like. Well he did what I told him to do, and he thrives off affection, so I reward him with affection. And forces herself to overlook how he smells like he just had sex, had sex with her own daughter, his own sister, and now he’s sleeping with his head buried in her shoulder and his hand right under her breast (because she moved it down from on her breast, but he kept his grip on her hand tight and she sees no reason to let go now).

He has definitely described in detail his sexual escapades when he's feeling especially cucked by his own father.

I think the first time they really cross any sort of line would be after Viserys dies. It’s the stress of grieving a man who didn’t give a fuck about either of them, of spending the whole day searching for Aegon only for him to have been in the Sept the whole time…when she wants comfort and affection she goes to Aegon, and yet she uses it as a carrot, and YET he reached for Her Faith and Her Safe Space when he ran. But he’s also feeling real prickly about the whole thing. I think it’s the first time she just rewards him with affection without a string attached and it leads to the carriage scene where he’s clearly searching a concrete answer and not another dodge.

After he’s king though, the dynamic flips. Suddenly he has the power. Suddenly he has the leverage over her. I think he’s going to flip wildly from wanting to protect to her to wanting to punish her the way she does him. Withhold affection that she’s craving for the first time, but show her he can protect her and love her the way Viserys couldn’t.

So he comes to her room the night of coronation, and keeps pushing and pushing because he’s king now, until he’s forcing her to let his hands go where they want, and kiss where he wants, until she can’t rationalize the line he’s crossing and like, almost comforting him & assuring him he IS better than Viserys because he’s insisting he won’t hurt her, she’ll enjoy it, and it’s going a lot farther than she wants it to, but she can’t say no to him - he’s the king, and he’s her son, and she’s also not saying no specifically because she likes what he is doing.

She's not moving out of the queen's apartments and into the dowager apartments. why would she, when she's still acting like a queen. But she's in the king's apartments more often with aegon than she ever was in the two decades married to Viserys. She's spending night after night in there "plotting" except Aegon is holding her from behind, and kissing her, and ignoring her when she says it's inappropriate, and it doesn't matter how many layers she's wearing, he's still there, but she's not seeing this as "he's sexually abusing me" she's seeing this as like....a little kid pulling on your dress to get your attention. Or well, she's rationalizing it that way and then praying a LOT later over the whole thing. He's the king. It's fine. She's the Queen. She's just doing what's always been asked of her. She's sparing Helaena. Is it so bad if she's enjoying it.

his jealousy is SO much worse. i genuinely think when he finds out about the dalton greyjoy plan he's going to lose his mind. alicent is never getting remarried. he won't let her meet alone with larys and he does get violent when larys mentions it. he cockblocks otto and criston constantly.

i think he tries really hard to be nicer to aemond after he's king. the fact that aemond was working for alicent and not otto + aemond almost letting him go makes aegon feel marginally better about aemond's existence. this gets more pronounced after rook's rest where he has to lean on aemond and aemond is not taking advantage of the position, which therefore means aegon gives him more responsibility. i am saying aegon puts aemond on cockblock duty re: otto and larys, yes.

i fully believe alicent calls him rhaenyra at least once in bed. aegon does not stop crying about it for a long time. there may or may not have been some weird "does it count as kink if it's not negotiated clearly unsane and unsane but consensual on a technicality" sex stuff that happens that whole week.

what is the weird sex stuff you ask.

well in typical george style i do in fact think there's a lot of tiddy stuff happening here re: breast milk and breast feeding. sorry that comes with mommy issues.

i think he lives with his face between her legs. it's incredibly important to him that she enjoys what's happening. alicent dreads it almost as much as she likes it tho because like, there are some lines man, and getting great head from your own son crosses it in her mind.

[please note i genuinely don't think he goes down on helaena. he doesn't care enough to expend the effort].

do you know what "dollification" is. well it's not alicent that's the doll though, it's aegon. he is her little king toy and she dresses him and bathes him and feeds him and plays with him exactly how she likes.

i go back and forth on impact play, i think HE likes being hit in a sexual sense but SHE does NOT but that doesn't mean he hasn't slapped her a few times or choked her once or twice. i don't think he purposefully does things in bed that make her upset but i DO think, especially after he's crowned, he likes the idea that he can make her cry and he's the king, she can't argue with him over it.

that does not mean she doesn't slap him right back,,,,but he likes when she does that so!

he has absolutely throated some sort of seven figurine or star or some shit in front of her. bit one of her necklaces while she's on top of him. she refuses to actually fuck in the sept altho he did attempt to finger her (she dragged him to a room though, she has to have Some dignity here).

i think they fuck face to face most of the time. he wants her to be very aware that it's him in her bed and not his father (or anyone else). i don't think alicent really knows enough to know that she could enjoy like, doggy style lol, and I think she'd find it debasing so it's not something she would suggest.

also, i say that he wants her to enjoy it but i think the line between "sex that hurts alicent" and "sex that alicent enjoys" can be a bit. thin. because she has a very negative view of sex, it's not something she enjoys, i don't think she would recognize when he's hurting her even, and aegon likes to be incredibly rough. i think early on, he probably assumes something very naive like "she doesn't need as much foreplay" but it's only because alicent just isn't saying that she needs more foreplay (she doesn't even fucking realize that's a thing you need). after a while, i think he would become more aware of when she's just waiting for it to feel good and when it actually feels good, and would use that when he's upset by just. skipping what feels good. he's not actively damaging her - like i don't think it would get to the point where she's bleeding or something - but he is careless once he knows her body a bit better, because he's careless with his own body.

[sappymix1]

Okay writing prompt -> office au dnf where George is the front desk worker and Dream is in sales and they meetup in the break room and always flirt

hi anon so funny thing it did not occur to me that you meant office au as in the show the office until I turned on the tv earlier today and it was there lmao. but anyway here is 1.3k words of dnfies working for a company that supplies textbooks to high schools lmao

[12:14] 🐈‍⬛: Dream

[12:16] 🐈‍⬛: Hellooooooooo

[12:16] 🐈‍⬛: This is so messed up why are you ignoring me

[12:19] 🐈‍⬛: Dreeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaam

[12:21] 🐈‍⬛: Stop ignoring me, idiot

[12:25] 🐈‍⬛: I’m so bored. I haven’t had to do anything all day. This is so boring.

[12:27] 🐈‍⬛: And now you won’t even text me back. You hate me. 

[12:31] 🐈‍⬛: You should come talk to me so I don’t die of boredom. 

[12:34] 🐈‍⬛: This is me because of you

[12:34] 🐈‍⬛: Ignore the caption

[12:37] 🐈‍⬛: I’m going to start texting Foolish instead of you. I’ll find his number in my computer.

[12:38] 🐈‍⬛: I’m doing it. I’m going to do it. I’m going to find his number and text him asking if he can show me his muscles

-

“Thank you, Ms. French; I’ll make sure that gets worked out for you. Have a good day.” Dream hung up his phone, posture immediately worsening as he screwed his eyes shut, trying to force down the headache that had been brewing since about the third question about the difference in price between the fourth and fifth editions of the biology textbook some forgettable high school in Vermont was attempting to purchase before the new school year began. 

Dream was pretty good at his job, mostly because he was pretty good with the people. He thought he had a good voice, one that made him good at dealing with people over the phone because it prepped them to like him by that alone. He was a bit more awkward in person, yeah – a bit too tall, not quite sure what to do with his arms or his feet – but clients were already endeared to him enough that at that point his slight awkwardness just ended up being charming. That wasn’t the point though; the point was that he was ordinarily really good at phone sales, customer service, that sort of thing. This particular call had just been a bit exhausting. He had barely even passed his own high school biology class; he definitely did not know which text book was the better option even though he had to at least sound like he did. 

Dream glanced over across the office, over to the desk up by the door. His vantage point, unfortunately, wasn’t that great these days. His boss had gotten it into his head that some change of scenery would make everyone more productive as they got deeper into the hot months of summer and, as a result, Dream had traded his desk conveniently within eyeshot of the front desk for one much farther away, and all he could see over, of all things, the fucking broken printer was a little bit of curly dark hair that drifted back and forth in a way that made it obvious that its owner was rocking back and forth in the swivel chair. 

Dream wasn’t quite sure that this rearranging was having the effect on productivity his boss had desired. He reached into his pocket, and he slid out his phone.

His lock screen was covered in a long chain of texts, all coming from a contact saved simply as a familiar emoji. Dream scrolled through them, automatically smiling as his stomach buzzed with strawberries and oranges. Apparently, he was not the only person struggling to focus.

[12:47] me: get better bait. you would text foolish telling him to die before you asked to see him shirtless.

[12:47] me: besides, you’d never do that to tina

Dream went to flip his phone over, not wanting to risk someone noticing that he was off task, but immediately, his phone buzzed with a response. 

[12:48] 🐈‍⬛: What are you doing?

[12:48] me: i was on the phone. 

[12:49] me: lunch?

This time, he didn’t bother putting his phone down, just watched the three little dots indicating someone typing on the other side of their conversation. He realized quickly that he was holding his breath, and he forced himself to let the lingering air leave his lungs. Don’t be stupid. 

When the text came, it was much shorter than the time spent typing it would have implied. Dream could imagine him going back and forth and back and forth, fingers freezing on the same anxiety that both worried and excited Dream. 

[12:50] 🐈‍⬛: Yes

Dream got up from his desk, heading to the break room to get his lunch. Once the door fell shut behind him, cutting off the low buzz of the lights and computers and air conditioning of the main office with a tight thud, he went to the fridge and pulled out the container of sliced up mango and half a sandwich in a baggie. A green sticky note with a smiley face adorned both of them, identifying them as his. He was in the middle of trying to crack the seal on the lid of his drink when he heard the door swing again and quickly felt arms encircle his waist.

“You’re so, like, needy, today,” he said without turning around. “What’s wrong?” Half teasing. Half so sincere that it made both of them squirm a little bit. Dream had always been good at that – caring about people. Especially certain ones. 

“Nothing.” George – the receptionist, the cute British guy in the office, the most important person in Dream’s phone – pressed his face against the back of Dream’s shirt, muffling his voice. “I’m bored. You were ignoring me.” 

Dream scoffed. He set his lunch down on the counter and turned around to face George. George was looking up at him, lips pressed together like he was trying and failing to keep himself from smiling. Failing, both because George wasn’t particularly good at hiding his happiness and because Dream could read his emotions from a single movement of his rich dark eyes. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I was working. I spent, like, half an hour stuck on the phone talking about biology textbooks.”

“Wow, poor Dream,” George teased, reaching to open the fridge and find his own lunch – left over chicken nuggets, apparently, as well as a plastic bag filled with apple slices – before settling across from Dream at the table. “Forced to spend all day on the phone, while I’m dying at my desk.” 

A bite of his sandwich. “Dying? Of what?” 

“Boredom and neglect,” George said, sounding extremely put upon. “It’s so messed up that you’re letting your stupid job get in the way of our relationship. Just so that you can, like, have money or whatever.” 

“I can’t believe you’d let Patches go hungry like that.” Dream reached over to steal a sip of George’s peach ice tea, and George just grinned at him before sighing. 

“I guess that’s a good enough reason.” They were both quiet for a few seconds, ankles brushing under the table as George chewed on his apple slices and Dream picked at his mango with a plastic fork from home. It was comfortable, or at least as comfortable as lunch at a tiny breakroom table that was so short that Dream banged his knees against it every time he sat down could be.  It was, arguably, one of the least remarkable days of Dream’s life. Tomorrow, he would put back on his scratchy work clothes and the shoes that pinched his toes, make a million more phone calls to talk about textbooks he couldn’t care less about, and eat another dry sandwich in the shitty breakroom. The same mundanity that he had found, despite the big dreams that he had had growing up, to be his life these days. And, just like he eventually did today, before they threw out their trash and tried to leave the breakroom far enough apart to make it inconspicuous, George would ask if he could come over after work, and everything would feel a little bit more special.