#i know i will be reusing another au for another day but like

[adragonprinceswhore]

The Commune

Cult Leader!Aemond x Niece!Reader

Summary: A modern AU where Aemond, power-hungry and high on hubris, is the leader of a commune with a peculiar affection for the Seven.

Warnings: 18+, dark themes (mind the tags!), AFAB reader, depictions of depression, manipulation, coercion, dubcon/noncon, targcest (no description of appearance), fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), facefucking, humiliation, (noncon) spanking, semi-public sex, P in V, breeding kink

Word Count: 19k

A/N: I've wanted to edit this for a while and finally got around to it! It took all week 🫠 I definitely feel like the fic got a face-lift! Enjoy ✨

Leaving

Your heart is beating fast and hard when you wake up.

The shrill sound of your alarm clock does little to ease your tense state, abruptly ruining the quiet calm that had previously occupied your bedroom. Without fully opening your eyes, you reach for its usual spot on the nightstand and press snooze, hoping for a little more serenity before you have to get up and face yet another insufferable day at work.

How could such a dull job cause you so much stress?

Why did it make you wake up each night with a heavy swirl of dread and anxiety tightening in your chest, rendering you unable to fall back asleep?

You’ve never been this tired before, yet you’ve never found sleep harder to obtain.

With a sigh you push yourself out of the warm comfort of your bed. It is so soft and smells like home; laundry detergent and the scented candle you keep on the nightstand.

The forced separation almost makes you cry as your body shivers in your chill bedroom.

Each day as heavy to bear as the next.

You grab the robe you have hanging on the back of the bedroom door and head for the kitchen with slow, heavy steps; dragging your feet behind you.

When had life turned so monotone?

When was the last time you truly enjoyed yourself without thinking about work?

Why did you find yourself in an existential crisis before you’d even had your morning coffee?

You load the small coffee maker, pull out a carton of yoghurt and dump some into a bowl before reaching for the packet of granola standing on top of your fridge.

You grab a mug, pour some coffee into it, and shake up your oat milk before adding a splash.

Same fucking breakfast each day.

Moving to the living room, you curl into yourself on your sofa, turning on the same morning show you always watch as you sip your coffee and feel a tiny bit of relief at the comfort that the warm liquid offers as it slides down your throat.

The unnaturally cheery hosts on TV are in the middle of some segment about reusing egg cartons when your phone vibrates. You already know who it is, tapping on the screen to see “mum” and her usual morning text, asking you how you're feeling and what you have planned for the day.

It's harder to pretend like everything's fine when it's her asking. She can always tell that you're faking it; that whatever you say is just an empty, repetitive attempt at assuring her that you are fine.

You don't really mean any of it.

And she knows.

You shoot her a quick reply, trying to ease her worries but not really having the energy to fully commit,

“I’m good, going to work and meeting up with Sara after”

A small lie, though you are planning on sending a text to see if Sara's available later. Regrettably, your weekly dinners had been reduced to monthly ones, but still.

Do it for mum.

“Have you finished checking the reports I asked you to look over?”

Gwayne does not even spare you a glance as he comes up to your desk in the office, eyes glued to his phone and thumbs violently tapping the screen. He wasn’t the worst boss to have, but he certainly wasn’t nice or understanding either, promptly ignoring any signs of distress you were showing. You know you have been looking worse and worse as the stress of the job has settled in; skin going duller and bags under your eyes becoming more prominent. Yet, he stubbornly says nothing, relying on you to finish work swiftly without ever talking back or asking for some guidance.

“Yes, I just have to glance them over one last time before I forward them to you”, you answer, noticing how tedious your voice has become.

He hums, eyes still on his phone,

“And then I’ll need you to double-check that you’ve replied to any urgent emails before going home today. Would really fuck up my schedule next week if I’d have to keep track of your inbox as well”

“Yes, sure”, you reply before even taking in what Gwayne had told you,

“Wait, what do you mean? Next week?”, you question, seeing him briefly scrunch his eyebrows together before finally looking up from his phone, locking eyes with you,

“Yes, you have next week off, remember? Last chance to use up those paid days off you’ve accumulated, and the union has made it quite clear that we cannot give you a bonus instead”, he rolls his eyes at the last part.

“Week off? But I have meetings lined up next week, deadlines closing in”

Despite knowing that you probably need the break, you feel the familiar tightening in your chest as you consider all tasks you were planning on doing next week.

Gwayne, seeming to be done with the conversation, turns and walks away from your desk, eyes again locked on his phone as he replies, “Then you’ll just have to get it sorted today”

“Well that’s lovely, sweetheart!”

Rhaenyra’s voice sounds relieved when you tell her the news of your unplanned week off. You had been forced to stay at the office for two additional hours just to make sure that you finished up any urgent business, resulting in you cancelling the dinner plans you'd made with Sara and consequently spending another evening by yourself at home.

“Why don’t you get away for a bit? You might enjoy a change of scenery?”, she asks.

You were too exhausted to even think about planning and booking a trip, replying “Yeah, sure” dispassionately as you stir the pot of pasta cooking on the stove.

All you want to do is lay in bed, listen to music and try as best as you can to turn your brain off; to not think about anything.

Contently brainless.

You don't want to think about how you’d gotten your dream job, just to realise that you despise it.

You don't want to think about how every day felt like a repetition of the one before, nothing exciting ever happening.

You don't want to think about the strong suspicion you have that every fucking choice you’ve ever made has lead you to a life that you detest.

“Why don’t you go visit Helaena? I know she’s misses you”, your mothers voice pulls you away from the negative thoughts spiralling in your head,

“I think the place is about two hours by train from Oldtown, out in the country. Maybe some fresh air would do you good?”

You knew Helaena had moved out to the country about a year ago, exhausted and overstimulated from the suffocating drain of the fast-paced city that King’s Landing is. She’d sent you a letter, not a text or a call, some time ago to let you know that she was okay and she’d love it if you came by to visit her.

“Mm, I do miss her…”, you mumble into your phone, thinking of the last time you’d seen her. It was Aegon’s birthday almost one and a half years ago. She’d seemed lost and sad. Like she often did.

Like you often did, nowadays.

“Yeah, maybe that’d do me some good”, you finally agree, hearing Rhaenyra let out a sigh of relief at your words. You know she's worried you’d stay home all week, doing nothing but dwelling in sadness.

“That’s lovely, dear! I’m sure she’ll be ecstatic to see you. You know Aemond lives there too, right?"

You’d heard that Aemond had left King’s Landing shortly after finishing his PhD as well. You’d been with your mum when Alicent called her, filled to the brim with worry over her overachieving son turning down a position at Oldtown University in order to move out to the middle of nowhere, claiming that he’d be "conducting private research".

You had actually been excited for him to move to Oldtown. Having some family close by would’ve been a nice escape from the loneliness of the city.

Besides, you and Aemond had drifted apart as you both grew older, despite being thick as thieves in your childhood.

Maybe it’d be nice to see him too.

You lean your head against the train window, watching the city landscape make way for the lush greenery of the Reach in late summer.

Being trapped in the city you’d almost forgotten how beautiful it was here; a stark difference from Dragonstone, where you’d spent most of your upbringing.

It's not that you don't miss the sea. As a child, you'd loved the way the harsh, salty winds whipped at your face, leaving you wet and impossibly refreshed as you stared out towards the horizon, thinking of everything awaiting you there.

The potential of what your life could've become felt a lot more comforting than the reality of it.

You hadn't been able to call Helaena to inform her that you’d like to visit. Apparently, she didn’t have a mobile phone anymore, but after sending a text to Alicent you’d gotten a hold of her new number; a landline.

You didn’t know how she managed without a smartphone, but figured that the stress of constant notifications might have made her decide to ditch it.

Grabbing your bag from between your legs, your hand rummages through it in blind search for your pocket mirror.

You pull it out, open it and check your reflection.

Still the same tired face, with dark bags permanently residing under your eyes. You hadn’t slept well last night either, despite having some much needed rest from work.

Why was your body seemingly incapable of relaxing?

You feel around for some concealer, dotting a bit on your finger and patting it under your eye; a useless attempt at hiding the fatigue prevalent on your face.

Defeated, you lean back in your seat.

The train ride's nice. You spend the entire 2 hours and 12 minutes listening to music, watching the scenery flash by.

Thoroughly zoned out, you nearly miss the conductor announcing your station.

You hastily grab your bag and rush out of the door. The station, if you could even call it that, is small; just two tracks going opposite directions.

It's closer to a bus stop, a place where people get off and quickly make way to their final destination.

You spot Helaena immediately. She's standing on the platform in a lilac summer dress, her silver hair shining in the sunlight.

Although you can only really make out her silhouette, she seems different. As you come closer, the wide smile that she sports comes into view.

Gosh, she looks radiant!

So different from her gloomy, distant self back in King’s Landing.

“I’m so happy you’re here!”, she squeals, wrapping you in her arms.

She hugs you tightly, and you hug her back, burying your nose in her hair. It feels good to hug someone you care for.

When was the last time you did that?

“Thank you for having me”, you respond as Helaena pulls away, still holding you in her arms, eyes flickering over your face.

Her smile falters for a second before it returns and she starts talking excitedly about her new home, telling you that it’s only a 20 minute walk from the station and you could catch up on the way.

You follow her down the steps from the platform, answering a few questions about work and your life in Oldtown.

She leads you away from the small station, down a path where a few houses lay scattered sporadically.

You can hardly call this a town; far too minuscule. Still, you notice what seems to be a little supermarket, a pharmacy, a gas station and what looks like an elementary school, facing the tiny town square.

“I’ve been hoping you’d come visit ever since I sent you that letter”, Helaena gushes, taking your hand in hers as she led you down a small path going off the main road,

“I just know you’ll love our commune. Aemond thinks so too!”, she continues while squeezing your hand in hers.

“Commune?”, you ask and turn to face her.

She met your eyes and nods, face breaking out into a wide grin once again,

“Yes, Aemond’s research project! You know he specialised in philosophy when he did his PhD in Political Science, right? Well, he got really into the idea of having people live in smaller communities instead of the impersonal and detached lifestyles people pursue in modern cities”, she explains, eyes once again inspecting your face, only to land on the bags under your eyes.

You hum in response, seeing if she’ll continue.

“So, he used some of the money he had stored away in funds and created our commune; a small community where everyone knows each other and we get away from the stresses of city life. We grow our own crops, spend time outside and work together to keep the place running”, she explains, eyes gleaming with adoration,

“He said he did it for me, since he saw how bad my depression had gotten back in King’s Landing”, she adds, and you squeeze her hand affectionately. Aemond had always cared for Helaena, no one else seemed to truly understand her like he did.

“So, you feeling better now? Out here?”, you inquire, gesturing towards the green field you walk through, hand in hand.

You're not really paying attention to where you're going as Helaena guides you. Looking up, you find yourself surrounded by nature; not a building in sight.

The sun shines brightly, illuminating the beech trees towering over you, creating a roof of light green luminance.

“Yes, much better”, she replies with a smile. She seems so at peace here, encapsulating a kind of beauty that comes from within and hypnotises anyone laying eyes on her.

“And this, ehm, commune. How many people live there now?”, you ask, not knowing you’d be spending your time with a bunch of strangers.

Truth be told, you really didn’t feel up for it.

You barely have energy to hang out with Helaena and Aemond. Entertaining and getting to know new people would be especially draining.

“We’re already about 50 people. Most of them met Aemond when he was still in school”, she replies.

As if she could sense your uneasiness, her eyes search yours as she adds, “You’ll love them, I swear! Everyone’s super nice”

Together, you continue your path, walking up a small hill. As you look down, the commune comes into view.

You see small, cottage-looking houses, with large flowerbeds between them, filled with everything from herbs to vegetables.

There's a large building the middle of the field with walls much taller than the cottages. The building's made out of wood; a dark tone that contrasts against the light trees and green fields you’d passed on the way over.

Above the large entrance of the building is a large carving, resembling the seven-pointed star of the Faith.

Helaena, still excitedly chatting next to you about how lovely life is out in the country, pulls you towards the large building in quick steps,

“Aemond's dying to meet you! It’s been so long. I bet he’s in the Sept”, she explains, leading you through the tall, open door.

Your parents aren't particularly religious, which means you hadn’t spent much time in Septs and the like. Alicent’s family, however, were rather devoted; an integral part of the many faith's many fractions in Oldtown.

When you were younger, both Helaena and Aemond had spent a lot of time studying The Seven-Pointed Star. Still, the fact that they'd chosen to construct a Sept in such a small community shocks you.

Maybe they're more dedicated than you’d thought?

Entering the Sept, you recognise the back of a tall man with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long, silvery hair, tied in a low bun.

Helaena calls his name and he turns around, finding your gaze in an instant. His lone, purple eye crinkles slightly as he smiles at you, calling out your name in greeting.

Just like Helaena, he looks radiant; pale skin glowing, dress shirt and dark slacks perfectly ironed, and not a hair out of place.

As a child he was always so moody; volatile and sensitive.

Now, he seems so calm.

Too calm.

Like he was faking it.

“Welcome to our home. I hope the trip here wasn’t too draining?”, he asks, inspecting your fatigued face.

Seven hells, did everyone think you looked like the walking dead?

“It was a lovely ride out here. I’d almost forgotten how beautiful the country is” you answer, trying your best to sound cheerier than you look.

He hums at your answer, placing a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly. You can't make out if it's supposed to be an attempt at a greeting, or a way to comfort you.

His eye bores into yours,

“We’re so happy to finally have you here. Helaena will help you get sorted in one of our rooms and then I’ll introduce you to everyone”

His hand swiftly leaves your shoulder before he turns around, striding out of the large wooden doors of the Sept.

Reconnecting

After a few hasty greetings, you retreat to the room Helaena and Aemond have assigned to you.

You're exhausted from being bombarded with impressions, and collapse on your bed, finding uninterrupted sleep for the first time in months.

Hours later, you wake up to the sun illuminating your room, a low knocking sound by your door.

As your groggy mind slowly realises where you are, you hear Helaena call you from the outside, informing you that breakfast will be served in a few minutes.

You get up and move to the basin placed in the corner of your room, splashing some water on your face, checking your sleepy reflection.

You instantly notice that the heavy bags that had seemed to be a permanent feature under your eyes have faded slightly, and you look better and brighter than you had in a long time.

Mood elevated, you move to throw on a flowy, knee-length skirt and a linen blouse, reasoning that something loose-fitting would match the sunny, late-summer climate.

Stepping outside, the air is crisp.

The sun provides warmth as it makes contact with your skin, a welcomed relief to the slight chill still lingering.

You notice that the residents of the small community have gathered by a long, wooden table placed in the middle of a field not far away from where you stand. You quickly make your way there, spotting Helaena. Her eyes light up as she sees you approach, greeting you with a wide smile,

“We always have breakfast together”, she explains as people move around you swiftly, placing plates of bread, yoghurt, pastries, fresh fruit and vegetables on the massive table.

You spot Aemond, hands behind his back and posture straigh as he observes the people scurrying around him. He glances at you, giving you a small smile and a nod before he returns to his previously stoic state, observing the residents while they prepare for breakfast.

Helaena reappears next to you, arms wrapped around 5 glass vases filled with wildflowers. You help her place them on the table, admiring how utterly beautiful the set up looks.

The commune, as you'd heard one resident call it, has a simplistic aesthetic. Most rooms are only occupied by whatever furniture’s necessary to maximise functionality; tables, chairs and beds made out of wood, decorated with nature-toned linens.

Yet, there is a beauty to it you’d hardly seen before; an appreciation for a simple charm that's often lost in the hectic mess of cities like Oldtown or King’s Landing.

You take a seat next to Helaena, eager to devour the delicious-looking food in front of you.

Though most residents are seated by now, no one moves to touch the various plates filled to the brim with mouth-watering food.

You look over at the end of the long table and notice Aemond standing, hands still clasped behind his back. He softly clears his throat, and the cheery chatter dissolves in an instance, all eyes shifting to watch the tall, silver-haired man standing before them,

“Good morning. I hope you all slept well and feel ready for a day of prosperity”, Aemond starts, eye moving across the table to acknowledge everyone present.

Most of the residents are older than both you and Aemond. You even heard that a handful of them used to be his professors back in King’s Landing.

You're still not sure how he’d managed to get them all to move out here, but as he speaks, you notice how intensely everyone observes him, taking in every word that leaves his lips,

“Let us pray”, he orders, and each one of your tablemates bring their hands up to clasp over their empty plates before closing their eyes.

Aemond sends you a look you can’t really decipher. You assume he wants you to partake in the prayer, so you lower your head and clasp your hands together as well.

Aemond pays tribute to all seven faces of the new God before thanking all residents for attending, voice calm and steady.

As the prayers end, everyone shifts their focus to the food. You feel unsure of what to try; everything looks so good.

Helaena makes the decision for you, grabbing your plate, loading it with bread and various spreads and toppings for you to try.

“You’ll love this”, she urges as she places the plate in front of you, lilac eyes eagerly awaiting your reaction.

She's right. Everything tastes divine and you eat until you feel like your stomach is about to burst.

Meanwhile, you try to engage in some small-talk with the people sitting closest to you around the massive table.

To your right sits Jayne, a woman you’d guess to be in her early fifties, with sun-kissed skin and kind, brown eyes. She tells you about her tasks at here, mainly growing herbs and flowers.

She shoots a quick glance at a dark-haired woman sitting by Aemond further down the table, explaining that she grows and tends to various plants which are grown at the request of the woman she’s observing; Alys.

After breakfast you offer to help collect and wash up the dishes, feeling a strong need to be useful as you see all residents retreat to their respective tasks for the day.

As you circle the outside table with an already overfilled tray in your hands, you spot a tall figure appear beside you.

“Would you like to go for a walk?”

You look to the side and see Aemond standing there. He's wearing a dress shirt and dark slacks today as well, though his hair is left untied, cascading down his shoulders and reflecting the light of the sun.

He offers you a timid smile as he asks, mimicking the way he used to look when he was younger. It's a stark contrast to how he appeared during breakfast; authoritative and intimidating.

You return his smile and nod. Perhaps a walk would do you good.

He instructs one of the residents to take over your work and they do so without protest. You send them an apologetic look and mumble a "thank you" as you follow Aemond, who’s already set sight on the small path leading away from the settlement and towards the compact trees of the surrounding forest.

The two of you walk in silence, basking in the lovely scenery surrounding you. The light green trees seem to shimmer in the sun, and as you make your way into the forest, you spot a small river; surface reflecting the lush greenery of the leaves.

“How is life in Oldtown? Has my uncle been giving you a hard time?”, Aemond asks, eye looking forward as he breaks the silence.

You swallow and mentally prepare yourself before answering, not wanting to let him in on how miserable you’ve been.

“Yeah it’s been interesting. A lot of new challenges but I’m hanging in there”, you answer, and despite your attempt at sounding casual, the sadness residing within you drips through and stains your voice.

Aemond abruptly halts and turns to you, eye boring into yours as he contemplatively licks his lips.

“There's no need for that here”, he states, voice suddenly sterner than before.

“What do you mean?”

Your cheeks grow hot and your palms feel clammy as you grow embarrassed over how easily he sees through your fake cheeriness.

“You don’t need to lie to me. It’s only us here, I won’t judge you”, he replies, maintaining the intense eye contact between the two of you.

It feels like a dam bursts within you; a force so strong you're helpless to it, and your sight turns blurry.

Any attempts you’ve made to appear strong have failed and all that is left is the truth; that you'r stuck in a permanent state of misery.

Broken.

You feel your throat close up and you desperately try to swallow before answering,

“I ha-, have been feeling a bit, ehm, lost”, you admit, and as you finally utter the words, admitting to yourself and confiding in him that you feel disoriented, tears spill out of the corners of your eyes.

You try to take deep breaths to soothe yourself and regain some control over your emotions, but it's too hard.

Why can’t you pull yourself together?

Aemond regards you for a moment, allowing you time to process the sudden crash of emotions overcoming you, before he places a hand on your upper arm, gently dragging his fingers over the fabric of your blouse.

“You’re allowed to feel lost”, he looks into your eyes and there is something there; a tenderness you haven’t seen since you were both much younger.

You can’t stop the tears from flowing anymore as you weakly nod at his words, the lump in your throat leaving you unable to properly answer him. His seeing eye is so gentle as it gazes into yours,

“Many of us here felt lost, hopeless even. But the community we’ve built allowed us to reconnect with our inner selves; helped us feel happier”

He moves the hand that had been on your arm to your face, experimentally stroking your cheek. You lean into his touch by reflex, relishing in the feeling of his warm hand on your wet cheek.

“You don’t have to pretend here, not with me”

As he speaks you move closer to him, pressing your body against his and wrapping your arms around his torso, hugging him tightly, just like you did so many times in your childhood.

He understands what you need and hugs you back, holding you against his chest, softly stroking your hair. And despite the agony in your chest and the lump in your throat, you feel okay; escaping into his warm embrace to momentarily forget all your sorrows.

You stay like that for a while, bodies interlocked with each other as Aemond lets you cry. He doesn't say anything, continuously stroking your hair. It feels emancipating; crying your heart out in the arms of your uncle.

As your tears dry, you gently push yourself away from Aemond’s embrace and run the back of your hand over your cheeks in an attempt to remove some of the wetness. Aemond’s eye still looks gentle as he regards you,

“I know that life's not always what you thought it’d be, and leaving home is scary. But you’re with family now. Me and Hel are so pleased that you’re here with us”

You smile at him, saying a quiet "thank you" as he motions for you to carry on with your walk.

You continue to talk and catch up on what’s been going on in your lives since you last met.

Aemond tells you about his research project; how he believes that modern capitalism renders people mere objects utilised for profit by companies, consequently leaving them lacking agency and without a belief in higher powers, generating a generation of depressed, lost souls.

You take in everything he says. He speaks with such confidence that you feel yourself agreeing instantaneously.

In truth, you also felt like an object at work; a machine there to execute tasks, without any possibility to change your condition.

You listen to him talk so intensively you don't even realise you’re back at the residence.

What sounds like a fight in hushed voices pulls you away from your conversation with Aemond as you look up to search for where the voices are coming from.

You see one of the residents you had breakfast with, Jayne, kneel down in front of Alys, grasping at her apron and pleading to her in a quiet, desperate voice,

“I didn't mean to, please believe me!”

Shocked, you look over at Aemond who suddenly looks stern, wrinkles forming between his eyebrows. His eye's set on the scene in front of you, yet he does not intervene.

As you open your mouth to ask him what's going on, he grabs your arm and promptly leads you into the Sept, closing the door behind you.

“Helaena will meet you here, she wanted to show you her insect farm. Do not leave until she collects you”, he commands, voice stoic but intimidating, leaving no room for argument.

Before you have a chance to reply he quickly opens the door, and leaves.

You spend the afternoon with Helaena, exploring her insect farm and listening to her tell you of all the benefits the farm provides.

Afterwards, you still feel the unease from earlier vibrate within you, causing you to feel restless. In an attempt to be useful, you offer to help some of the residents as they prepare the large outdoor dining space for supper.

You chat with one of the younger people there, a man who appears to be in his early 20’s called Jon.

He tells you about how he met Aemond. As part of his PhD programme, Aemond held some lectures for first-year students, and Jon had attended his class on international conflict and crisis.

They’d started talking outside of Aemond’s lectures and found that they had much in common, especially in regards to their view of the world, and what was wrong with it. Aemond had mentioned his wish to move out of the city with his sister, and Jon was intrigued in an instance.

You continue your conversation with Jon, finding him easy to chat with. He's surprisingly funny too, joking and making you laugh, easing your anxiety. Feeling yourself relax and grow more comfortable, you decide to pry a bit, confiding in Jon,

“I wasn’t brought up with the faith, so I have to ask. Why did you decide to build a large Sept in a small settlement like this?”, you ask as you help Jon place cutlery by the plates on the table.

His relaxed and cheerful demeanour stiffens at your question. His eyes leave the silverware on the table to meet yours,

“You don’t know?”

His face appears genuinely surprised, and his eyes are wide in question. Before you get a chance to answer, a raspy voice interrupts your conversation,

“Jon! How lovely of you to entertain our guest”

The woman who you’ve learned goes by Alys appears, emerald eyes locking with yours as you turn to meet her.

“I’m Alys, it is so nice to meet you”

She stretches out a hand and gives you a practised smile. Her features looks pleasant; far from how harsh they'd appeared when Jayne had been kneeling before her.

You try to smile back at her and tell her your name, though you suspect she already knows exactly who you are. You look over at Jon who appears nervous, hands fidgeting with a fork.

“I believe Aemond wants to see you, in his office”, Alys sight does not leave Jon, eyes boring into him, but you both know she is addressing you.

You can’t come up with anything to say or do; anxious to find out what it is that Aemond wants from you and desperate to get away from the intense, silent fight between Jon and Alys taking place before your eyes.

You shoot Jon a quick apologetic glance before moving toward the Sept, leaving him with Alys.

Aemonds office is located behind the large altar in the Sept. As you approach, you feel yourself grow tenser; stiffer.

You quickly try to run your sweaty palms over your skirt before raising one hand and softly tapping your knuckles against the heavy wood.

Aemond calls for you to come in and you enter, standing awkwardly by the door.

What does he want with you?

Had you overstepped when you spoke with Jon?

Or will he let you in on what had happened between Alys and Jayne when you came back from your walk?

Something about this place and Aemond makes you unexplainably uneasy, but you're unable to pin-point what it is that reduces you to a mess of nerves.

Your eyes keep flicking up at Aemond and down at the floor. You can't maintain eye contact with him, his stare too intense.

Fiery.

“I heard you offered to help Jon prepare supper?”, he inquires. His voice is completely devoid of any emotions, making your uneasiness grow.

He had an eerie calmness to him that did little to soothe you; rather, it made you grow even more restless.

“Y-, yes, well, I only helped him with bringing out plates and such”, you rushedly explain, words pouring out of your mouth, “I'm so sorry if I overstepped or made a mistake, that wasn’t my intention”

Aemond beckons you over, pushing his chair from where it’s placed by the desk, holding out his hand. You grab it without a second thought and he begins stroking his thumb over the back of your palm, looking up at you, a sliver of sympathy evident in his dark gaze,

“Why did you assist him?”, he asks softly and you answer that you just wanted to be helpful; that it feels strange seeing everyone else work hard and not contribute.

Aemond hums and leans back in his chair, hand still holding yours.

“You shouldn’t do other peoples chores for them. Everyone here has responsibilities that they should conduct in solitude”, he explains and you nod, though you can’t understand the harm in helping someone with a menial task like setting the table for supper.

“Don’t worry, no one is upset with you”, he adds to reassure you that you haven’t wronged anyone. You feel yourself relax somewhat, letting out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

Aemond looks you over and his gaze stops at your shoulders, noticing the strain there,

“You are still so tense”, he notes and you hum.

Stress, working at a desk for over 40 hours per week and lack of sleep had left your body in a constant, rigid state.

“Come here”, he commands and tugs at your arm unexpectedly, making you stumble forward. His other hand comes up to wrap around your waist, placing you on his thigh.

He looks into your eyes and the close proximity makes you slightly uncomfortable.

“You’ve always been so nervous; anxious since we were young”, he says as the hand that had been holding yours travels down to rest on your clothed thigh. The arm he has around you midriff tightens as if he’s expecting you to move away,

“Let me help you relax”, he offers, voice soft.

With gentle fingers, he slowly traces patterns on your leg. You do not know what he means by helping you, but you trust him.

He managed to makes you feel better before.

You stay put on his lap and he takes that as permission to continue, letting his hand travel down to where your skirt ends, fingers caressing your knee.

A breath gets caught in your throat as his hand moves upwards, slinking in under the fabric of your skirt; warm palm softly touching the smooth skin of your thigh. Aemond lets out a sigh at the contact and you suddenly feel uneasy, squirming in his grip.

“Aemond, what are you doing?”, you ask, voice slightly panicked.

His arm tightens around your waist as you try to move, hand continuing its path up your skirt.

“Didn’t it feel liberating to ease the pressure within when you cried in my arms earlier?”, he inquires and you look at him puzzled.

He still appears stoic but the pupil of his eye is blown wide; enveloping his iris.

“Let me take care of you. Just relax”, he commands as his hand reaches the apex of your thighs, index finger coming up to touch your bundle of nerves over your underwear experimentally.

You gasp and try to squirm out of his hold again, but he is much stronger; body rigid as he holds you.

He moves his head down to rest in the crock of your neck, shushing your protests. His fingers continue their slow massage over your underwear, and you feel yourself grow wetter from his attention.

Both your mind and your body have frozen.

Although you know it’s wrong, you let yourself lean into the pleasure Aemond is providing you, feeling yourself drift away; mind letting go of your senses as Aemond's touch consumes you.

When his fingers travel to the edge of your underwear, sliding inside, it’s like a bucket of cold water is poured over you.

You regain consciousness, bringing your hand up to try and push his away,

“Aemond we can’t do this, don’t-”, you plea, embarrassed by the fact that you can feel the evidential stickiness of your arousal between your legs.

Aemond tuts at you and pushes his fingers to make contact with the skin of your cunt, delighted at the wetness that greets him,

“You want this", he speaks quietly into your neck, "You need this. Be a good girl for me and let it happen”

You sit in his lap stiffly and as you're about to protest once more, his fingers circle your clit, causing a startled moan to slip out of your disobliging mouth.

Aemond chuckles against your skin and presses a light kiss to your neck,

“I knew you’d like it”

His words feel taunting, and your cheeks sear with shame.

The conflicting feelings storming inside you do little to hinder the arousal you're experiencing.

As his fingers travel down to your entrance, you again feel your common sense slip away and pleasure overtaking you.

He gathers some of the wetness from your entrance and brings it back up to your clit, making you sigh in involuntary pleasure again.

He positions his hand so that the heel of his palm is right by your bundle of nerves, leaving his fingers free to tease your entrance. He stays like that for a while, teasing you while pressing his palm against your clit.

The pleasure builds inside of you at a rapid pace.

He slowly sinks two fingers inside and you cannot contain the loud moan that escapes you, grabbing his arm with both hands. You grip him tightly, but cannot bring yourself to pry his hand away like you’d tried before, the pleasure too overpowering.

He sets a steady pace, palm pushing against your clit and fingers continuously finding that spot within you that causes your thighs to shake.

Your breath grows heavy, pleasure tightening inside you rapidly, and suddenly you don't want him to stop.

You hear Aemond’s breath growing laboured against your neck as well, giving it his all as he holds you in place and pleasures you.

You bite your lip to not let more moans slip out as pleasure begins to consume you.

Why did it feel so good?

Your walls began to contract against Aemond’s fingers as your peak approaches, and distantly, you hear him encourage you to let go.

As you do, you let out a pleasured cry, soaking his fingers. Your body stiffens while pleasure shoots through you; traveling from your lower stomach to your chest and down your limbs.

Your body slumps against Aemond, who moves his face out from the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispers,

“Good girl”

Assimilating

You can’t take in anything Helaena is saying.

You watch her lips move, try your hardest to take in her words, but nothing sticks. You hum and nod in reply, but haven’t got a clue to what you just agreed.

Should you tell her about what happened in Aemond’s office?

What if she tells him?

What if she tells mum?

Bile rises in the back of your throat at the thought.

What if your mum found out what her brother had done with her daughter?

What if she found out how good he’d made you feel?

That you liked it.

The only consolation to your misery is the fact that Aemond is sitting where he’d sat before, at the end of the long, beautifully decorated wooden table, looking out at everyone as if nothing was wrong. Like this was any other supper.

Maybe nothing was wrong?

Maybe you'd just imagined the entire thing?

Still, you can't bear to meet his gaze. You continue to channel all of your energy into the conversation you were having with Helaena. Or rather, that she was having with you.

“So when the queen bee dies, her workers will select a new queen from the larva and feed her this special thing called ‘royal jelly’ to make her fertile”, she cheerily says, smiling from ear to ear,

“Everyone here in our community gets to focus their attention on their chosen topic of interest, mine being insects and biology. I’ve learned so much, nature is truly fascinating”

Again, you notice how elated Helaena seems to be here. Her eyes shine as she continues to tell you about her life in the country, tending to insect farms.

It's hard to imagine that this is the same girl who’d been a shell of a person before.

As children, she had developed a tendency to pull away from others, choosing to fold into herself and push the world around her away.

Seeing her this animated and filled with life should make you happy for her.

But it feels off.

The following days go by quickly.

Sensing your need to feel useful, the members of Aemond's commune assign you daily tasks, like helping out with harvesting plants, preparing meals and cleaning up the Sept.

The building doesn’t seem to be used for ceremonies or communal prayer. Instead, the residents utilise it privately throughout the day; though you're not let in on their purpose.

Although not being too familiar with the Seven, you swear you could remember Aemond and Helaena attending services at the Sept when you were younger, not merely going there in solitude. Maybe they prayed together as well sometimes?

Another benefit of focusing on productivity was the distraction it gave you from thinking about what had occurred between you and your uncle three days prior.

Despite the initial disgust you'd felt, you had now decided that if you acted like it never happened, maybe it never did.

You’d sworn to never bring it up with Aemond, or ever tell anyone else for that matter.

He was still the Aemond you’d grown up with; the sensitive boy with a strong will, always on a mission to prove himself.

He’d always been a bit too ‘by the book’. Maybe he sincerely thought that you would enjoy it?

He might've read something about Freud’s theory on female hysteria and the power of orgasmic release, seeing the act as more of a medical procedure than a sexual encounter?

A weak theory, but still.

---

Despite helping out at every corner of the residence, you hadn’t seen Alys since leaving her with Jon.

But this morning, after Aemond had asked you to help the residents clean up the leftovers from breakfast, you spot her standing next to your uncle, talking about something in hushed voices while watching the residents tidy up.

Although you'd only spent a few days here, Aemond and Alys' position at the top of the hierarchy of the small community was evident.

They both had an air of authority about them that was hard to overlook, making the pair appear intimidating in a way that only a strict superior could.

Yet, they both choose to be soft spoken whenever they address the residents, often complimenting them on their diligent work.

Observing the duo, you notice Aemond nod towards you, which prompts Alys to approach, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder,

“I’d like for you to help me today”, she states, and although her voice is soft, as if asking a question, there seems to be no room for disagreement.

She ushers you to follow her as she makes way towards one of the almost overflowing flower beds; copious plants fighting for space.

Like every day since your arrival, the weather is practically perfect; sunny but with a comforting breeze passing through the fields. Alys reaches for two weaved baskets resting against the small cottage wall close by and hands you one before kneeling down by the flower bed. You follow her, admiring the abundance of herbs in front of you.

You’d never witnessed such a variety of plants grow so vigorously together. You’d hardly thought it to be possible. Maybe the weather and temperature conditions here were optimal? Or maybe they’d genetically modified the crops?

Alys' gentle, low voice breaks the silence,

“How has the stay here been for you so far?”

Even though you’d told yourself; decided that you’d never think about what had happened between you and Aemond in his office again, her questions forces your mind back there.

Sitting on his lap. His fingers inside you; stretching you out.

You shake your head slightly in an attempt to erase the thought.

You’re never going to think about that again.

You can’t.

“It’s been great. Everyone’s so welcoming and I’ve been able to spend a lot of time with Helaena”, you reply, focusing on the positive aspects of your visit.

It was all true; during your time here you’d felt welcomed and comforted. Cared for, even.

“That’s lovely”, Alys replies with a smile as she begins to pick basil leaves off the thin stem of the plant. “We’ve worked hard to create an environment where our residents can thrive, just like you seem to be doing”, she explains and your forehead wrinkles in contemplative confusion.

Are you thriving here?

You certainly look a lot better.

Your skin has almost started to glow. You wake up in the mornings feeling refreshed and rested.

But that could just be down to the fact that you’d found uninterrupted sleep. Plus, the appetising food served here seems healthy, consisting of ingredients the residents grew and prepared themselves.

“Well, the fresh air and delicious meals certainly help one thrive”, you reply with an unconvinced chuckle.

Alys’ eyes light up as they sweep over your face,

“You enjoy the food? I’m happy to hear that. I’ve put all of the past year's energy into curating the plants, grains and menu here”, she tells you, pride causing her to straighten up, sitting a bit taller.

“You truly have a gift, Alys. Any tips for an amateur like me?”, you inquire, relaxing a bit now that the conversation has taken a lighter turn.

She smiles at you and pulls out a small, green tin from the large pocket in the middle of the apron she’s wearing. She opens the lid and pulls out brass spoon. It’s filled with what looks like dirt, or clay, and smells similar to a compost.

Your nose wrinkles as she scoops some of the brown mush inside the tin onto her spoon, placing it by the plant's roots before firmly patting it down with the back of the utensil.

“I was doing my PhD at King’s Landing University before moving here. I was researching phytotherapy”, she explains as she scoops out another spoonful of brown mush from the tin and moves to add it to the next plant's roots.

“I was in my final year, fully consumed by my dissertation. Despite loving the topic, I was so stressed by my academic career that I seriously considered dropping everything and moving back to Harrentown. Then, I heard my professor tell me about this brilliant young man in the Political Science department”

Speaking about Aemond, her eyes almost look dreamy,

“His ideas were so radical, yet so natural, you know? He wanted to create a community where people were allowed to pursue their passions without the stressors of modern society. Where the Seven provide enough guidance”

You feel uneasiness creep up your spine. Her facial expression is almost trance-like as she talks about Aemond; as if he's a deity, ready to be worshipped.

“Well, modern society provides us with plenty of comforts as well, don’t you think?”, you counter with a strained laugh, trying to ease the mood a bit,

“What would you do if, like, one of the members got sick?”

Alys huffs a laugh as well and smiles to herself as she eyes the tin in her hand,

“We always get by”

After a quick lunch break, you continue to help Alys with various tasks around the residence; picking flowers, vegetables and herbs for her, plucking out weeds and organising seeds for future harvests.

You’d never seen seeds like the ones she showed you before; pitch-black in colour and almost supernaturally round.

When she saw your expression, she snorted a laugh and explained that they were from Yi Ti, used by herbalists for centuries.

She did not, however, answer you when you asked what they were going to be used for.

Although her presence had felt intimidating at first, you'd now grown calm around Alys. Something about her was almost bewitching.

Like the way her emerald eyes would lock with yours whenever you spoke, or how graciously she moved about the commune, greeting each resident in a gentle voice.

You also noticed that they never met her gaze, eyes cast down as she approached, only uttering a few polite phrases before rushing away.

Feeling more at ease spurred your confidence, and so you ask her what you’ve been aching to know for the past days,

“The other day…-", you begin with a wavering voice,

"-What happened between you and Jayne?”

You try to sound as casual as possible, but it only makes you sound strange.

Alys, who’s been picking some wildflowers from one of the fields close to the residence, doesn’t slow her pace for even the briefest of moments as she answers you, eyes still on the stem of the flower in front of her,

“Nothing for you to worry about”

She plucks the flower and gently places it in her weaved basket before moving to the next one.

“Okay”, you reply with uncertainty, “She seemed very upset though”

Alys finally looks up from the flowers she’s plucking and meets your gaze,

“Actions have consequences. I’m sure you know that. But with the justice of the father and the grace of the mother, mistakes can be forgiven”

Her face is much sterner than before. The comfort of familiarity that had blossomed between the two of you disappears in an instance, and you feel uneasy as her eyes narrow.

“Jayne has been forgiven and we will move forward. Just like how Aemond forgave you”

Alys turns around and quickly makes way towards the Sept, disappearing inside and closing the door behind her.

Forgave you for what?

For what happened in Aemond's office?

Did she know about that?

As the members of the commune prepare for supper, you go back to your room to have some time to yourself, mindlessly scrolling your phone while lying in bed.

The reception out here's not great, and now that you think about it, you hadn't seen any mobile phones during your stay, only a land-line hanging on the wall in Aemond's office.

After what happened with him, your mind had been too preoccupied to put any focus on replying to messages. You see a few from your mum and send her a quick reply to let her know that you’re doing well.

Seeing her name appear, you feel uneasy; like she knows of the secret you harbour. You feel guilty. And disgusted.

A sudden commotion outside throws you back into reality; back into the commune.

You hear raised voices, some sounding familiar, and you swiftly place your phone in your pocket before heading out.

You see Jon, eyes wide and face pale, on his knees in front of Aemond, mimicking how Jayne and Alys had looked a few days ago.

Aemond’s face is hard to read.

He looks stoic, yet his eye is furious; dark gaze glaring down at Jon.

Unlike Jayne, Jon doesn’t say anything. He raises his hands in surrender and locks eyes with Aemond; wordlessly pleading.

But for what?

By now, many of the residents have gathered around the two young men. Some look scared, others intrigued.

“Do you believe the Father to be just?”, Aemond’s soft voice asks, contrasting his utterly frightening appearance. Jon nods eagerly, eyes wide in panic.

“Then you’ll accept a punishment befitting the sin you’ve committed?”

Jon stiffens slightly, but eventually lowers his head in a slow nod. His eyes cast down to the ground; head hanging in surrender.

Aemond hums and pulls out a knife from the inside of the jacket he’s wearing over his usual white shirt and dark slacks.

It’s one you recognise. It had been gifted to Aemond on his 12th birthday by your grandfather, who’d declared that he was now a young man; a young Targaryen man, and therefore needed his own reminder of his Valyrian heritage.

Aemond flips the dagger in his hand as he regards the man before him, holding his hand out in an invitation to Jon. He wordlessly places his hand in Aemond’s, and you can now clearly see that he is shaking.

Aemond turns his hand so that he’s holding the back of it, Jon’s palm turned upwards,

“Mistakes can be forgiven, but justice must prevail”, Aemond speaks. His voice is louder than before to address the crowd gathering around him and Jon. It reminds you of a lecture.

Perhaps this is how he'd conduct classes at university?

The residents around you murmur in agreement. Aemond raises the dagger in his hand, eye cast down to make contact with Jon’s. He’s trembling out of fright and Aemond almost looks pleased at the display in front of him,

“We all need reminders of our wrongdoings, to prevent us from repeating them. Whenever you lose sight of the light, Jon, this will remind you to seek out the guidance of the Seven”, Aemond’s calm voice rings out as he suddenly presses the dagger into Jon’s palm.

He grunts in pain as the blade breaks his skin and blood flows freely from his hand. Aemond’s knuckles are white from the force in which he’s holding onto Jon’s hand, refusing to let the younger man go, staring into his eyes with a look so intimidating it demands submission.

You can’t take in the scene in front of you; can’t comprehend what’s happening.

As reality slowly comes back to you, you try to speak up, try to tell Aemond to stop, but your body doesn’t obey you; frozen in shock.

The other residents watch quietly, not making a sound as Aemond and Jon stay still, blade still penetrating Jon’s palm as his mouth winces in pain.

Your uncle finally pulls away from Jon, gesturing for Alys to move forward. She quickly pulls out some gauze from one of the pockets of her apron and kneels down next to Jon, gently wrapping it around his palm; blood pulsing out furiously.

Aemond’s stoic facade seems to falter slightly as his breathing turn laboured; jaw shut tight. He appears agitated, giving Jon and Alys one final look before stalking away towards the nearby path leading to the forest where he’d taken you for a walk a few days prior.

Your body finally obeys you as you call out his name in an urgent voice,

"Aemond!"

What the fuck had you just witness?

Aemond doesn’t turn around. He walk away in quick, angry steps, silhouette growing smaller and smaller. You throw a quick glance at Jon, whose face is even whiter than before, gauze around his palm already dark red with blood seeping through it.

You cannot bear to take in the gory sight, a thousand questions going through your head. You need answers, so you make your way towards where Aemond had disappeared.

The path into the forest grows blurrier as a thick fog settles over the commune. Still, you make your way towards where Aemond had disappeared, determined to confront him about what you’d just witnessed.

You spot a form in the white mist, sitting on a stump with his head in his hands. You approach quickly, thoughts still spinning in your head.

What was that all about?

Why did you cut Jon?

Why did he agree?

If he did agree, that is.

The fear that was etched on Jon’s face as he knelt before Aemond made you shiver. He’d seemed so scared of him; scared of what he might do to him.

Still, no one had interfered as your uncle cut the hand of one of the members of their community.

Is this the norm?

Aemond looks up as he hears your footsteps approach, face as unreadable as always.

“What the fuck was that, Aemond?!”

Your voice is shrill and accusing. Your eyes seek out his as you stop before him; expression furious and chest heaving.

“You need to call a medic or something, Jon’s bleeding heavily!”

Your cheeks feel hot as fury rolls through your body, setting it alight.

It’s amplified by the seemingly unrepentant state of the man before you.

“Don’t question how we do things here”, he warns, eye just as furious as it had been before,

“Jon knew the consequences of stepping out of line. We all do”.

“What could he have done to make you mutilate his hand?!”, you counter. You still can’t fully comprehend what had happened mere moments ago.

Had you just witnessed bodily mutilation in the name of religion?

Aemond clicks his tongue, displeased with your accusations. He tries to school his face into a calmer demeanour as he looks you over,

“Sit down and I’ll explain”, he offers, gesturing for you to take a seat on the damp grass in front of him.

Despite your initial desire to defy him, purely out of spite, your curiosity wins as you take a seat in front of the stump where he sits.

“Everyone living here has consented to our communal agreement”, he begins. You can’t help the scoff that slips out. He continues,

“One of the reasons why people feel so depressed and out of place is due to the secularisation of the modern world. They’ve lost their connection to the Seven; lost sight of the light. A belief in the divine brings us closer together. Closer to the seven faces of the God”

“You all need help if you believe that physical violence will bring you closer to the gods”

It's hard to hide the disgust in your voice. Aemond’s jaw shuts tightly and the calmness on his face looks forced,

“Help me then”, he bites back, irritation penetrating his serene facade. “Pray with me”.

He grabs both your hands suddenly and traps them in his, lowering his head as he recites a prayer you haven’t heard before.

You try to pull your hands away but his grip is iron-like as he continues to mumble the prayer under his breath.

After a while, he grows quiet, yet keeps the grip around your hands. You look up at him. He's already awaiting your gaze.

Aemond looks like he’s contemplating something; different from his usual, determined state.

“Maybe you should help me like I help you; easing the pressure from within”

His hands pull yours towards the zipper of his slacks. Your body freezes in shock for a brief moment, then quickly pull away from him in reflex.

His grip on your hands is tight. He'd anticipated you'd fight back.

He brings your hands towards his crotch, now in such a tight grasp that your fingers ache. There's a hardness there, and your mouth goes dry, a rush of anxiety go through your body,

"Aemond, no, not aga-", you begin but he cuts you off.

“Would you prefer it if I told Helaena what you let me do to you in my office?"

His voice is foreign; cold and uncaring.

This is not the Aemond you know. The one who let you cry out in his embrace.

This is the Aemond they know.

"Or should I tell my other sister?”

You feel cold all over, shivering at his words.

A threat.

He lets one of his hands leave yours and undoes his zipper. He pulls out his length; already hard and furiously red.

You’re once again consumed by feelings of unreality.

This can’t actually be happening, right?

Aemond grips one of your hands, grasping it painfully hard as he pulls it towards his cock.

He presses into the sides and bends your fingers so they circle around him; much larger hand enveloping yours as he forces you to cool his desire.

He sets a fast pace; letting you know exactly how he likes it. His other hand moves towards your mouth, stunning you yet again as he pushes two fingers into your mouth.

Before you have a chance to pull your head away, he brings his spit-covered fingers down to your hand - the one he's using to pleasure himself with - and smears your saliva over the palm before guiding it back to his length again.

As your slick hand makes contact with his burning flesh once more, he grunts and closes his eyes; brows knit together in bliss. He lets you continue the motion by yourself, hands falling to the sides of his lap.

In the middle of this surreal experience, you can’t help but look up at him, admiring his beauty.

Such an intimidating man, instilling fear in so many around him, currently at your mercy.

You almost feel a headrush at the thought; having Aemond in the palm of your hand. Literally.

The continuous friction of your hand against his flesh removes some of the stickiness, and you hear him let out something similar to a whine as your hand grows drier.

His previously intimidating features suddenly look pleading as he gazes down at you, asking you to just comply.

Just give him this.

Without much thought of the consequences, instead of licking your palm, you move your head toward his length, darting your tongue out and licking a stripe over his tip. He lets out a surprise moan, and the unexpected feeling of pride rushing through your body makes your stomach turn.

You are not enjoying this!

Still, the praise travels down and settles in your core, causing a dull throb to pound between your thighs.

Then why does it feel so good to be praised by him?

You continue to pleasure him with your hand, though Aemond’s eye has traveled down to observe your mouth. His gaze occasionally flickers down to your clothed chest, peeking at the sliver of cleavage visible from above. One of his hands grasp your chin,

“Do that again”, he commands, and the disgust you'd felt towards yourself swirls in your belly again.

You shake your head, “No”

He lets out a grunt, hand still on your jaw as he slowly and firmly brings your head closer to his manhood.

Like before, you try to push away from him, to gain some sense of control, but he is far stronger than you,

“You do as I say”, he counters, and in one swift motion, he pulls your head towards his cock with such force that you nearly knock your forehead against his stomach.

As you part your lips to protest, he pushes himself inside of your hot, wet mouth, sighing in relief.

You feel panic come over you as you try to pull away, but he quickly places both hands on your head; keeping you in place.

“Breath through your nose. Be the good girl I know you are”

He grunts and begins to buck into your mouth.

You place your hands on his thighs in another feeble attempt at escaping his assault on your mouth, but to no avail. He drags your face over his length, palms moving to grab each side of your head as his movements grow quicker. You gag slightly.

“You feel so fucking good”, he breaths out, voice drunk on lust,

“You look so fucking good with my cock in your mouth, you know that?”

It feels like he's mocking you. It sounds like he adores you.

His thumb gently brushes away some of the strands that has fallen over your face.

The want in between your legs throb. The disgust in your stomach rumbles. You know that his words of praise shouldn’t make your underwear sticky.

But they do.

Your eyes water as he continues to fuck your mouth, not giving you any rest. You try to whine against him to make him stop; to at least let you come up for air, but he takes your sounds as moans and groans, moving in your mouth faster and harsher.

Finally sensing your need for a break, he manoeuvres your head off of his cock. You pant heavily as you gulp for air; lungs hurting from the sudden, sharp inhale.

A string of saliva connects your lips to his length, and his eye seems to be even more lust-filled as he moves his hand to caress your flushed cheek.

Even in this selfish, pleasure-driven madness, he regard you with fondness.

“Aemond, please, we can’t do this”, you plea.

His gaze flickers from your spit-soaked, swollen lips to your cleavage, and then back.

He doesn’t grant you a reply as he stands up abruptly, taking advantage of your startled state and shoves his length back into your mouth.

Your hands instinctively come up to his legs to have something to hold onto as he fucks your face with even more vigour than before, swearing under his breath.

You feel disgusted at the vicious arousal pooling in your stomach, seeping out of your core.

How could something so degrading feel so sensual?

How could you feel aroused by your uncle using you like this?

Aemond moves his hands to the back of your head, pushing you so that your nose makes contact with the hairs at the bottom of his stomach. He pushes his hips against you harshly and lets out a prolonged grunt.

You gag and stifle a cough, feeling his hot liquid fill your throat, then your mouth.

He slowly pulls away, hands still gripping your head as his eyes return to their wholly intimidating appearance,

“Swallow”, he demands, placing a large palm over your mouth, blocking your nose as well.

You know that you have no choice but to oblige him and force the sticky, salty fluid down your throat with a wince.

Aemond gives your kneeling form one last once-over before letting out a hum, swiftly putting his cock back into his trousers.

Without another word, he leaves, and you're left on your knees by the stump, fog now so thick that you can hardly see the path leading back to the residence.

You wipe away the spit trailing from the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand before standing on shaky legs.

Could you pretend like this never happen either?

As if in a trance, you make your way back to the commune; head filled with thoughts, yet too exhausted to comprehend anything.

You move to the basin placed in the corner of your room, reaching for your toothbrush without looking up at your reflection in the mirror.

You brush your teeth three times, reapplying tooth paste as the lather in your mouth disappears.

You want to get the taste of him out of your mouth.

It doesn’t go away.

Realising that you’ve been carrying your phone in your pocket this whole time, you tap the screen. A few new message from your mother and brother.

You hadn't even noticed.

Without checking, you turn your phone off, tossing it in your bag as you make your way to the bed.

You feel exhausted. Disgusted. Aroused.

This can’t be real.

Forgiving

The sheets of the bed are soft against your skin.

The rays of the morning sun shine through your window, and in the glow of the day’s early hours, you feel rested; comforted by the cosiness of your bed.

As you turn to the side, snuggling into the duvet, you wonder why this comforting place ever caused you to feel unease.

And then you're reminded of last night.

The memory makes a shiver go down your spine and your body trembles; trying to shake the chill away. Still, the feeling crawling under your skin doesn’t quite disappear.

Usually, you wouldn’t be able to sleep in the anxious state you’d been in last night.

Yet, for some reason, as soon as your head touched the cool pillow, you’d fallen into uninterrupted slumber.

Though your mind was spinning from all the conflicting thoughts you were having, your body was surprisingly relaxed; well-rested and freed from tension.

You’re hungry too, you notice. The rumble in your stomach vibrates, prompted by the clatter of the residents preparing for breakfast outside.

Without much thought, you get up, get ready and head outside. The warm rays of the sun greet you and you have to squint in order to see who’s already seated at the long table.

To your surprise, you’re met by the same scene as the last couple of days.

Aemond is standing by the edge of the wooden table, speaking with Alys. Jon is carrying bread in a large basket, carefully placing a few buns in each empty bowl placed on the table. Helaena is fussing over the wildflowers adorning the table, laughing as Jayne tells her something you can’t make out.

The scenery is still perfect, despite what had occurred the day before between Aemond and Jon.

Between Aemond and you.

You walk towards the table and take your usual spot next to Helaena, offering her a strained smile as she greets you. You’d thought keeping up appearance would prove to be a true challenge, but right now you feel oddly at peace; calm even. And hungry.

As soon as Aemond finishes thanking the Seven in his morning prayer, you begin to pile food on your plate.

Everything looks mouthwatering, the freshly baked bread still warm in your hand as you tear it apart and smother it in butter. You usually weren’t the type to have an appetite when you feel anxious or stressed, but today your uneasy state only works to amplify your hunger.

As you eat, the stress that had been causing nervous waves to ebb through your body stills, and you feel more at ease. Your mind is calmer, less crowded with thoughts.

Numb.

As you finish your meal, you look up from your plate to watch the scenery surrounding you, appreciating the lush greenery of the commune that had been lost on you before.

The rays of the sun shine through the gaps between the leaves of the bright green beech trees encircling you, casting a gorgeous glow over the residence.

Gods, it's beautiful here.

You look over at Helaena, whose hair seems to shimmer in the sun. Her smile only highlights her beauty; lilac eyes kind with a glint of something playful.

“Do you want to help me with my insect farm today? I’m going to go check on the crickets now after breakfast”, she asks, tone as pleasant and upbeat as it always is here.

“Sure”, you reply, standing up to follow her.

She walks behind one of the small cottages, and an array of insect farms come into view.

They resemble little houses made of wood, and even standing a good few metres away, you can see insects crawling all over the wood.

Helaena moves between them swiftly, peeking inside to see how her favourite creatures are faring. You’d never understand her obsession with such creepy beings, but watching her now, you feel warmth in your chest. She looks so happy; so at peace.

This really is the perfect place for her.

She beckons you over to one of the miniature houses and you approach her wearily, unable to hide the aversion you felt for the bugs.

Helaena giggles as she sits down on the ground to gain better access to the farm, nodding her head in a silent instruction for you to do the same. You join her, though you sit down slightly behind where she is, hoping she can provide you some distance from the insects littering each piece of wood of the farm.

“Are you sure you have to leave by the end of the week? I’d love for you to stay here longer”, she sighs, eyes fixed on the insects in front of her. She’s brought a small pouch with her which she opens, fingers digging inside for some seeds to feed her six-legged friends.

“I have to get back to work”, you answer, already dreading the inevitable.

The constant stress, the sleepless nights, Gwayne's endless nagging.

Would you be able to sleep as well as you did out here back home?

Would sleep feel as serene?

Despite all the uneasy situations you’d found yourself in, an unfamiliar sense of calm settles on your chest, pushing down your anxiety.

Maybe things would be easier if you stayed out here? Just for a while longer?

You're pulled out of your thoughts as Helaena speaks up again, eyes still on the farm, hand now buried deep within its walls, placing seeds inside for the insects to fight over.

“I think you’d be better off here. I saw you in a dream, you know. You were smiling, wearing a beautiful crown of flowers, holding hands with Aemond”

You feel yourself stiffen.

“He told me you’d come when he invited me to live with him here”, she continues, eyes finally straying away from the crickets; meeting yours.

You want to tell her about what happened, but the words seem stuck in your throat.

Would she believe you?

Would she be disgusted with you?

“Hel, I-”, you begin, choking as tears well up in your eyes. You try to clear your throat so that the lump of sadness suffocating you goes away,

“I-, I don’t think Aemond likes me”, is all you are able to get out as unexpected tears spill out from the corners of your eyes.

You wish you could tell her more, but your body doesn’t obey you; mind feeling foggy and throat closing up.

You can't sort your thoughts, or feelings, out.

“Oh, don’t cry, love”, she says as she wipes away a fat tear sliding down your cheek,

“There's no reason to feel bad. Aemond likes you. He would never do anything to harm you. He cares for you so much”

Though her voice sounds genuine, her gaze seems to drift away as she talks about her brother.

“He’s cared for you ever since we were small, you know. Do you remember that summer when we were all together on Driftmark? Before Aemond lost his eye?”

You swallow thickly at the memory.

“You remember when you two asked me to wed you out on the beach because you wanted to stay together forever?”, she asks, voice gentle and a knowing smile playing on her lips.

The memory causes you to spill more tears. Everything was so much easier back then.

“Don’t you miss how close you two used to be?”, she asks, compassionate and caring.

Yes, you do.

“Yeah”, you let out, voice thick from sadness. “But everything changed after Aemond lost his eye. He-, he didn’t want to spend time with me anymore”

You sound so small; your own words make you feel like a child again, abandoned by your best friend.

“Well, we’re here now, together. So that we can all reconnect. We’ve missed you”

Helaena moves closer to you, throwing her arms around you and hugs you tightly.

You slump against her, burying your face in the crook of her neck. Despite all the weird interactions with Aemond during your visit, Helaena had been a constant; brightening your days and making you feel seen.

She was always so happy to see you.

She was always so genuine.

You pull away once your sobbing ceases, giving Helaena one last squeeze before mumbling a quiet “thank you”.

She smiles, wipes her thumbs over your wet cheeks and locks eyes with you,

“You’ll feel better once you’ve settled in properly”, she says with a smile.

You don’t really understand what she means but nod anyway.

Agreeing feels good.

Agreeing feels comforting.

As you make your way back to your cottage, you spot Jon by one of the flower beds, watering the abundant plants fighting for space in their wooden confinement.

He doesn’t look much different from a few days ago, but when he spots you approaching, his slouching shoulders go rigid.

“Hi”, you say, trying to keep your voice light as you draw near him.

“Hey”, he replies, smiling in a way that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Your eyes instantly move to inspect his hand.

The gauze has been changed recently, clinically white and neatly wrapped around his palm,

“How’s your hand?”, you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

“Fine”, is all he replies as he walks towards the next flower bed, away from you.

He tilts the watering can, letting the water rains down on the flourishing plants.

“What Aemond did to you-, I-, it’s completely unacceptable”, you say as you trail after him,

“You could press charges you know”

Not that you actually think Jon would, for some unexplainable reason he had seemingly agreed to getting his hand slashed. But you wanted him to understand that this kind of behaviour was inexcusable, even if he'd consented.

Jon’s eyes darken as he turns his head from watching the droplets fall on the flowers to observe you.

“Aemond knows what’s best. No point in me going against him”, he says in resignation, eyes shifting again, looking out at the endless fields surrounding the commune.

“Aemond acted like a fucking psycho yesterday, you don’t have to excuse his behaviour”, you try to assure Jon, shifting your body to move a little closer to where he’s standing.

His eyes go wide in panic, quickly looking around to make sure no one is nearby.

“Do not say things like that”, he warns, voice barely above a whisper.

“Aemond and Alys hear everything. They have eyes and ears everywhere, especially Alys. She sees much and more”

His eyes have grown impossibly large, resembling those of an animal pestered by a predator,

“They say the Father is all-seeing; knowledgeable on all topics. Almighty. There are people here who-”, he pauses as his eyes again dart around in a stressed frenzy, making sure no one is listening in on your conversation,

“- who believe Aemond is the human embodiment of the Father”

Jon’s confession catches you off guard and you let out a snort at his utterance. His panicked eyes narrow in anger at you.

“You haven’t been here long enough to have seen what I have”, he tells you with a sneer,

“You do not understand the power that he holds”.

Though you'd initially thought Jon was someone you could become friendly with, you now find yourself backing away from him and his evident madness.

Aemond might be smart, but he is no deity.

You’re slouching in the rocking chair in the corner of your room, trying to read the book Helaena had lent you.

This is the third time you feel like giving up; mind too fuzzy to fully take in anything you're reading.

Why is it so hard to concentrate?

To distract yourself?

You’d planned on giving your mum a call when you retreated to your cottage, but couldn’t even bear to pick up your phone.

She had a way of knowing what you were thinking, without you even telling her. She knows you so well.

Too well.

She would sense that something's off.

That there's something you're not telling her.

What if she figures out what you and Aemond had done?

You’re startled by a sudden knock on your door.

Quickly standing, you rush to the door, nerves on high alert.

Aemond’s ducks his tall frame as you pull the door open, face level with yours. You feel that familiar shiver run down your spine, making your body shudder slightly.

He looks as impeccable as always; hair half up so that the silver strands stay out of his face, button-down shirt and slacks perfectly form-fitted and ironed to eliminate any trace of a wrinkle; any indication of a flaw. His eyepatch is securely placed over his damaged eye, long scar poking through the sides.

“Can we talk?”, he asks, voice low and gentle.

You’re not sure what to say, and move to the side to allow him inside. For some reason denying him feels out of the question.

You go back to the wooden rocking chair, sitting down and pulling one leg up to wrap your arms around yourself, a meek attempt at shield yourself from whatever Aemond has in mind.

He sits down on the bed, back stiff and gaze darting around the room before settling on you.

“I wanted to thank you for yesterday”, he starts, face stoic.

“Thank me?”, you reply by reflex, not entirely sure of what he’s referring to.

He can’t be referring to what happened in the forest?

“Yes. I really appreciate you helping me out”, he continues matter-of-factly. You’re stunned, mouth half-open in disbelief.

“And I wanted to apologise for leaving you after. That won’t happen again”

His eye never leave yours. He sounds so sincere it is hard not to take his gratitude and apology to heart.

Still, the memory of what you’d done causes bile to rise in the back of your throat.

Forgiving him and moving on would be so simple.

“It’s okay, Aemond, we don’t have to talk about it anymore”, you mumble, eyes looking down to pick at the sleeve of the linen blouse you’re wearing.

You’d rather just forget.

Move on.

Never speak or think about it again.

It never happened.

“Alright”

He’s silent for a moment before he speaks up again,

“I also wanted to thank you for coming out here to visit us. It’s been so nice to reconnect over these past few days”

There he is again.

The boy who’d been your best friend all those years ago.

Fierce and attentive at once; contradicting in every way. His timid smile is still the same, just as inviting to mischief as it had been when you were little.

You still can’t quite find the words to engage in conversation with him. Half of you wants to run away from his unpredictability, yet the other half wants to stay and bask in it.

“I’ve missed you”, he continues. You know he is genuine when you look up to meet his gaze.

You’ve missed him too.

“I’ve missed you too”, you confess quietly. You can’t seem to look away from his eye. It's almost hypnotising.

“Wouldn’t you like to stay here for a while longer? I can talk to Gwayne”, he offers.

“Oh that’s not necessary, I have to go back. I already know I have a full mailbox waiting for me”, you quip, trying to sound witty. Aemond’s face remains impassive.

“I always wondered why you decided to work with my uncle. Such a waste of potential”, he muses as he regards you,

“I think you could achieve much more if you chose another path in life”

His expression is serious, still his voice is gentle.

Like he’s telling you, not advising you.

Before you have a chance to reply he speaks up again,

“I’d like you to join a sermon we’re having tonight. You could benefit from some guidance”

You can’t come up with a reason to decline his invitation fast enough, and Aemond lets out a pleased hum at your silence.

“Six o’clock in the Sept”

He stands and reaches his hand towards you, squeezing it in goodbye.

He leaves your cottage and you watch him retreat to the Sept through your window.

The tall building truly holds an imposing aura; the seven pointed star sinister in its daunting simplicity.

Unsettling.

You enter the Sept right before six.

To your surprise, all residents of the commune are already seated, sitting in rows leading up to the unadorned wooden altar; carvings of the Seven decorating all sides of it.

The only one standing is Aemond, right next to the altar.

Next to him is a chair, and as you walk towards where the residents are seated, Aemond clears his throat and gestures for you to take a seat on the chair next to him, facing everyone.

“Please, join me”, he says and beckons you over.

Everyone present is watching you expectantly, leaving you no choice but to join Aemond and take a seat next to where he’s standing.

“Our guest of honour, everyone”

His voice is soft, yet you notice a hint of amusement hiding behind his stoic façade.

He says a short prayer, welcoming everyone to the sermon and expressing gratitude to all faces of the Seven.

“Today, I’d like to talk about forgiveness”, Aemond explains, and you watch as all residents observe him diligently, eyes rarely blinking.

He seems to hold such power within these seven walls.

Such authority.

“Granting someone forgiveness takes strength, given to us by the Warrior”

The residents are silent, but you see a few of them nodding along to Aemond’s words.

Helaena and Alys sit closest to where you and Aemond are, watching you attentively.

“All actions have consequences, and we must be reminded of this to prevent us from repeatedly committing wrongdoings. When I was 10, I was taught the consequences of my actions as my nephew brought a knife to my face, taking my eye”

His tone grows colder as he speaks, and you feel that all too familiar shiver run down your spine.

Only this time, you cannot shudder to make it go away. It stays at the base of your back; taking hold of you and keeping you in a state of acute uneasiness.

“Though I was consumed by hatred after being robbed of my sight, the Seven provided me with guidance, showing me the light in the darkest of times”

Aemond moves to stand in front of you, one hand coming up to pull the eyepatch that seemed to be a permanent feature on his face away.

You hadn’t seen him without it since the accident, and you have to stifle a gasp as you take in the entirety of his face.

The scar that your brother had branded him with is still red, still angry as you follow it with your eyes; starting at his forehead and ending on his cheek.

The socket where his eye had previously been is surrounded by scarred tissue; healed but still furious.

In the empty socket lays a sparkling sapphire, almost appearing alive as the light from the candles in the Sept reflects upon its surface.

The contrast of the beautiful gem nuzzled in the red, vexed scar reminds you of Aemond himself; full of rage and beauty.

“I’ll tell you the story behind this scar”

He moves to stand behind you as his hands rest on the backrest of the wooden chair,

“I was enjoying a day at the beach with my dearest childhood companion-”

His voice is borderline mocking. In your peripheral vision you see his knuckles go white from to the tight grip he has on the backrest of your chair,

“- though she adored me as well, she never defended me against the nasty remarks her brothers would throw my way”

His icy voice heats with anger,

“Having had enough of their torment, I defended myself, much like the Warrior would have. Like the Father, I demanded justice for their unbecoming behaviour. Yet, when I gained the strength to defend myself against my tormentors, the one who was supposed to be by my side abandoned me”

Although you can’t see him standing behind you, you can feel the infuriated energy radiating from his body. You desperately seek the resident's eyes for some sympathy, yet find none.

“That-, That’s not what happened Aemond”, you try to protest, but your voice comes out too weak to truly make an impact.

“Is it not? Then enlighten me. Did you not leave me to defend myself?”

One of the hands he has placed on the back of the chair moves to rest on your shoulder, squeezing it harshly.

“I didn’t-, you were fighting and I didn’t-, I was going to get an adult!”

You sound as desperate as you feel. The gazes of the residents feels burning as they regard you with disapproval.

You still remember how an innocent fight between children had escalated as soon as Aemond picked up a rock, refusing to take in your pleas to just let it go. Not knowing what to do, you’d sprinted towards the family’s summer house to get your mum or Alicent; anyone who could help you de-escalate the madness on the beach.

When you came back, Aemond was on the ground, screaming as he clutched his blood-covered face.

The memory makes you grow cold all over. That had been the worst day of your childhood; amplified by the fact that Aemond had refused to speak to you afterwards. Though your families had managed to mend the broken bond somewhat, Aemond had never looked at you the same.

“The Seven tell us that sins can be forgiven, and though I have forgiven you for this”, he gestures towards his eye, “you were never made to apologise for your transgression. I’d like to offer you forgiveness”

“Apologise to me”

He pushes at your shoulder, gesturing for you to stand in front of the onlooking residents. You heed his instruction, turning so that you're facing him.

"Kneel"

You get down on your knees, looking up at Aemond’s imposing stature. He is frightening, the clearly satisfied state of his face haunting you.

“I’m sorry”, you say meekly; low and defeated.

“Come on, you can do better than that”, he encourages.

His voice is loud and with a hint of poorly concealed amusement.

“I’m sorry”, you repeat, this time louder.

“You’re not going to address me when you’re on your knees, asking for my forgiveness?”, he asks, tilting his head.

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your face grow hot from the feelings rumbling in your chest; rage, sadness, betrayal.

Why is he so intent on humiliating you?

“I’m sorry, Aemond”, you bite out.

He approaches you, hand stretched out to touch your head, gently stroking your hair. He brings his hand down to cup your chin, tilting your head so that you look up at him; meeting his purple and blue gaze.

“I forgive you”, he says, and despite sincerity being evident in his voice, you cannot help but feel like this is all just a farce.

The onlooking residents stay silent, but you feel their eyes observe you like flames against your skin.

The only sound coming from the audience is from Helaena, who lets out a quiet “lovely” as her smiles at you and Aemond. You eye her in disbelief.

Does she not see how fucked up this is?

As soon as the sermon finishes you dart out the door, speedily walking the short distance to the cottage you’re staying at.

You cannot bear to stay in this madness for even a second longer.

You slam the door open, grab your belongings and stuff them down your bag with force.

The sun is setting and you know that there are no streetlights out here, only open fields and forest. You'll need to find your way back to the station alone, Helaena’s clearly as mad as the rest of them.

You peek out through the door. No one seems to be nearby and you know this is your chance to sneak away without being forced to face Aemond, Alys or Helaena.

The sun is hanging low on the horizon as you quickly move towards where you and Helaena had emerged a few days prior.

You walk briskly, the commune growing smaller as you move further away.

The forest that had mesmerised you with its beauty slowly turns terrifyingly imposing as darkness chases the comforts of daylight away.

Though you're sure you’ve been following the way you and Helena came, you soon find yourself at a crossroads in the middle of two paths, not knowing which will lead you back to the small village where the train station was.

As you briefly stop to contemplate your options, a dark figure appear on your side.

Jayne’s eyes are kind as she offers you a curt smile, reaching out to take your hand.

“Come with me”, is all she says before moving in quick steps, pulling you along the path to the right. You follow without protests; you wouldn’t know the way without guidance anyway.

You spot what looks like a street light ahead and you feel your body relax at the thought of being close to the train station, soon on the way back home.

Finally you’ll be able to leave this week behind.

As you come closer however, you start to recognise the small, wooden houses. In the middle stands a large, looming building with lights illuminating the seven pointed star in the middle.

You try to jerk your hand away from Jayne, but her hold on you is iron-like as she pulls you towards the Sept.

“Don’t worry”, she tries to reassure you.

“Soon you’ll realise that this is where you’re meant to be”

Prospering

Jayne forcefully drags you into Aemond's office, quickly exiting to lock the door from the outside. You’re still in shock, adrenaline pumping through your veins.

You inhale deeply, trying to calm yourself enough to assess the situation.

Everyone here’s deranged.

You’re outnumbered.

You could fight as hard as you like, and you’d still lose.

You start to nervously pace back and forth in front of Aemond’s large wooden desk, attempting to expel some of the nervous energy within you.

They wouldn't hurt you, right?

That’d be mad.

You think back to the true crime documentaries you used to be obsessed with. The best thing to do was play along with the madness and strike when they least expect it.

Make them believe you’re not a threat so they’ll trust you.

You just needed to keep your head cool and play along a little while longer. Then they’d take you back to the train station and you could go back home.

A sharp rap on the door pulls you away from your thoughts.

You hear someone fiddle with the lock before the door opens slightly and Alys slips through the small crack. You can hear voices outside, but they quickly fade away as Alys shuts the door promptly.

She gives you a nod, expression as calculated as it always is. She’s carrying two wine glasses in one hand and holding an opened bottle of wine in the other.

“Oh relax”, she tells you with a smile,

“Have some wine, it’ll calm your nerves”

She places the glasses on the desk, pouring you both a serving each before putting down the bottle and handing you one of the glasses.

“Here’s to a prosperous future”, she says, raising her glass and giving you a nod. You match her gesture, bringing the glass to your lips as you watch her take a sip.

The wine tastes like the ones your mum usually orders when you go out to eat; rich and with some lingering spiciness.

“Dornish red. Aemond’s favourite”, Alys states. Her delicate fingers are wrapped around the stem as she holds the glass elegantly.

She seems to do everything with grace, never faltering. Never appearing clumsy or out of place.

It's hard not to admire her.

“You know he’s only trying to help you, right?”, she asks.

"I-", you’re quiet for a while as you rack your brain for something to say that won’t upset her, “I appreciate that, but I need to get back home and-“

“Just let him help you, okay?”

Though her voice rises slightly at the end, it doesn’t feel like a question.

You know that there is no room for argument. Alys has maintained her calm appearance, yet her eyes are so expressive; the only part of her face that she can’t force into submission.

Their intensity make the hairs at the back of your neck rise, demanding you obey her.

She downs her glass before placing it on the desk, leaving you alone yet again in Aemond’s office.

It’s gotten dark now, the sole window in the room not providing much light anymore.

You continue to sip the wine in your glass as you lean against the desk next to you. The alcohol might provide you with some comfort; sooth your anxiety.

A soft knock on the door announces the presence of your next visitor.

Helaenas’ silver hair brightens up the dark room as she enters. She’s holding a flower crown in one hand, beautifully crafted with wildflowers you recognise from the bouquets always adorning the table outside.

“Hi”, she greets with a smile.

You nod back at her, still not quite sure how to appraise her.

She’s been one of the people you’ve felt closest to your entire life, yet she seems to approve of the mad things happening here.

How can she not see how humiliating Aemond’s actions during the sermon had been?

“I made this for you”, she says and hands you the flower crown.

As your hands touch, her fingers linger on yours, tips dragging over your knuckles with a feather-light touch.

“Thanks”, you reply curtly, not sure of what to say.

You want to ask Helaena for the way back to the train station.

Ask her to come back with you to Oldtown.

But she’s so different here. She overlooks so much, agrees to so much.

Always with a smile.

“Put it on”, she urges, hands moving to the flower crown to help you place it on your head. You want to protest but you’re so tired of it.

Tired of asking questions.

Tired of going against everyone.

“There”, she says with a smile as she regards you, face even brighter than before,

“You look so beautiful”

“Hel..”, you try, tongue coming out to lick your lips as you choose your words carefully.

She’s still your dear aunt; still Helaena.

“I want to go back home, Hel. We could go together, if you like?”

Despite trying to keep your voice even, you sound a little frantic.

“No you can’t leave now”, is all she replies, dismissing you. She doesn’t appear to be upset by your words though, lips still forming a warm smile.

“Hel, listen. What you’re doing here is not okay. Aemond maimed a man! And he humiliated me in front of everyone. Something’s wrong with him”

Your eyes dart all over her face and stature to assess her reaction to your words. You’re astonished by her indifference, almost like she’s not taking your words in.

She places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly as her eyes lock with yours,

“All actions have consequences. We’re all made aware of that here. Aemond only wants what’s best for us. He’s worked so hard to provide us with this. You should be thankful”

She leaves you alone in the room once more, and as she exits, you hear her secure the lock on the door from the outside.

By the time you hear someone unlock the door next, you’ve finished the glass of wine Alys gave you.

The room is now illuminated by nothing but the light of the moon shining through the window, casting a silver glow over the office.

Matching the man entering.

Aemond’s tall silhouette appears, instantly making you straighten up, dread washing over you.

He has been so volatile during your stay here, making you feel unease by the mere sight of him.

You can still hear chatter and what sounds like furniture being shuffled around outside as the door is left ajar by Aemond, who moves towards you.

He stands so close to you that his feet are touching yours.

His face is stern, looking at you down his nose. Fighting the fright within you, you meet his gaze, refusing to give him the satisfaction of backing down too easily.

Still, you know that you’ll need to play your cards right, go along with the madness here momentarily, so that they’ll eventually let you go home.

“Why did you leave?”, he asks, eyes never leaving yours.

His voice is that unique mixture of being gentle and stern, demanding you obey him and tell him the truth.

“I tried to leave because of what you did to me during the sermon. What you did to Jon!”

You’re unable to hide the fear-laced irritation you feel at his audacity.

How could he expect you to stay? Wasn’t it obvious why you left?

“I might have been selfish for needing that apology, but it was necessary. Now we can move forward together”

He moves one of the hands he’s had clasped behind his back towards you, gently placing his it in yours.

Your gaze flickers down to where he’s holding you. Your hand looks so small and delicate in his large one. His touch is warm.

You scoff at his attempt to reconcile,

“Who said I’ve forgiven you for what you did?”

“You know you owed me an apology after leaving me alone with your vicious brothers that night”, Aemond says and he shuffles even closer to you,

“Do you think that what happened during the sermon can match the pain I felt when your brother took my eye?”

“N- no, but Aemond-"

“No. You’ll never understand the pain I’ve been through. But I’ve chosen to forgive you, and now we can move forward together”

His voice is slightly strained as he lectures you. His purple eye is piercing, and though you’d wanted to match his strength, you can’t help it when your eyes look down in shame.

“However”, he speaks in a lower tone, thumb moving to stroke the back of your hand,

“I am disappointed in your attempt to leave me and Helaena here without even granting us a proper goodbye”

“You’ll prosper here with us, but you’ll have to follow our rules. Dishonesty is not allowed, and your actions show that you attempted to act deceitfully".

His hand drops yours as he grabs your arms on both sides, swiftly turning you around and pushing on you back with a firm hand so that you're bent over his desk.

You’re too startled to fight back, letting out a yelp as you feel him tower over you from behind. He leans down over your body, hand still firmly on your back, pushing down,

“You have probably heard stories of whipping those who refuse to see the light. But I am no monster, so I will spare you from the whip”, he murmurs next to your ear, hand on your back trailing downwards,

“My hand will serve”

Before you’re able to reply, or even fully take in what he’s telling you, you feel his large palm make swift contact with your backside, the gesture causing a loud smack to echo through the quiet room.

You let out a startled cry in pain as you turn your head to face Aemond, confused betrayal reflected in how your mouth fall open and eyebrows rise.

His hand smooths over the material of your skirt where he’s just slapped you, somewhat soothing the painful sting on your skin.

“For being deceitful, I’ll give you five smacks. That’ll teach you to behave”,

The stoic gentleness of his voice borders on sounding amused as he takes in your shocked face.

Can you still play along?

What will happen if you resist?

While you’re trying to calculate your next move, Aemond’s hand land another harsh hit on your ass.

You sqeel from the pain, but quickly try to stifle the sounds coming out of your mouth.

Your painfully aware of the fact that he left the door ajar.

The residents outside might hear what’s happening. You feel tears well up in your eyes from the humiliation; from the stinging pain on your backside.

Aemond shushes you as he once again smooths his hand over your abused flesh in a comforting manner,

“You’re doing so well, my love” he tells you, eyes meeting yours once again.

You don’t understand why his words stifle the anxiety you feel, but they do.

“Only three more”, he states as he lands another stinging hit on your ass, even harsher then before.

You can’t hinder the tears that escape down your cheeks anymore.

“Good girl”, Aemond coos as he soothes your pain with his palm. Though the fabric of your skirt separates your skin from his, you can feel the warmth radiating off him.

Hearing him praise you shouldn’t sooth your pain, or make you feel better in the slightest, but it does.

You notice the soft look of satisfaction in his eye and you feel proud.

His hand lands on you quickly and you bite your lip desperately to not cry out. More tears slide down your cheek as you give Aemond a pleading look.

“Just one more, and then you’ve served your punishment”, he reassures you as he caresses your stinging flesh.

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the last smack to land and when it does, you flinch before letting out a sigh of relief because you’d done it, you’d taken the punishment and now Aemond would be pleased with you.

The thought makes a warm sensation spread in your chest and when you open your tear-filled eyes, Aemond is already watching you with an expression that feels nothing less than loving.

While one hand stays on your backside to gently caress you, the other travels to you face, cupping your cheek. His thumb runs over your cheek, wiping away some of the wetness.

“You took your punishment so well. You make me proud”, he tells you, and his soft voice sounds so sincere. You lean into his touch on instinct, his palm providing comforting warmth to your cheek.

Being praised by him makes you feel happier than you’ve been in a long time.

It feels so good to be appreciated; to know you did something well. You can’t help but smile as your eyes lock with his. He smiles back at you.

“Now, I’ve got a surprise for you”, he tells you as he straightens up, grabbing your arm to link it with his. You know that there is more you need to talk about; more that’s unsaid. Yet, your mind feels fuzzy and you’re finding it hard to properly sort your thoughts out.

Aemond snakes his hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him and you lean into his warmth; it’s so comforting.

“Aemond, I-, I still need to know…”, your voice dies as you mentally search for a question.

What was it that made you leave?

Oh! Jon!

“Why did you cut Jons hand?”, you ask, hoping that the softness of your voice will prevent his impending irritation. You don’t think you could handle another punishment.

Aemond is quiet for some time, possibly pondering his response, before he speaks,

“Jon spoke out of turn, questioning my roles as the leader of this community. He now understands that everything I do is for the good of the commune and its residents”, he explains, arm still holding you by the side as his palm rests out on your stomach.

“Here in the commune, we know that scars tell a story; they remind us of our wrongdoings and guide us when we stray from the light of the Seven”

He stops in front of the door, turning slightly to look at you,

“You should be grateful I didn’t scar you, like I’ve done to others. Soon you’ll appreciate all that I've done for you”

He pushes the door to his office open, revealing the large hall where you’d been humiliated during Aemond’s sermon.

The residents of the commune are all facing you, watching you expectantly as you emerge from the office.

They’re all sitting on the exact same seats as before. The Sept is dark, illuminated only by the scarce moonlight shining through the seven-pointed star carved in the upper part of the buildings large walls, and by the candles lit across the room.

You see one of the residents standing by the altar where Aemond had stood during the sermon.

You recognise him as one of Aemond’s former professors in King’s Landing. The man is probably in his early to mid-sixties with grey specks clear in his brown locks. He offers you a smile as you approach with Aemond, his brown eyes warm and inviting,

“Welcome”

Aemond leads you to stand in front of the altar, arm still anchoring you to him.

“Is everything ready?”, your uncle inquires as his grip around you tightens.

“Yes. Let’s begin with the seven vows”, the elderly man says before reciting what sounds like a long prayer.

Having Aemond hold you makes you feel secure, and it takes you a while to really comprehend what is going on.

Why are the two of you standing here, instead of sitting with the other residents?

“Do you accept the seven vows, the seven blessings and the seven promises?”, he asks, warm eyes meeting yours.

“I do”, Aemond replies next to you, squeezing your waist in a silent command for you to do the same.

You turn to face him, brows furrowed in confusion.

What is it you’re agreeing to?

Aemond’s patience seems to run thin as you remain silent.

You notice his jaw twitch as he gives the resident in front of you a pointed look, prompting the man to respond in a quick nod before moving to join the onlookers.

Aemond turns to fully face you, yet he doesn’t move his arm, tugging you towards him so that your soft chest knocks against his.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love, and take you for my wife”, he says before he surges forward, crashing his lips against yours.

You stiffen in his grip, trying to back away from him but unable to move in his hold. You hear applause echo through the hall as Aemond retreats, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

You open your mouth to protest, but your voice is drowned out by the loud chanting of the onlooking residents,

“One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever”

They abruptly stand, chanting over and over as they move towards the large wooden doors of the entrance, going outside to leave you and Aemond alone in the Sept.

Even after the last person has left and closed the door, you can hear them chanting outside.

“One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever”

The slight tranquillity you’d previously found comfort in vanishes as you search Aemond’s face for an explanation; an answer as to what is going on.

His hand cups your cheek again, the loving look he’d offered you before you left his office still present,

“Your decision to leave tells me that you are lost. I’ll help you. I’ll help you see the light again”

You’re lost for words.

“I’m doing this for you. I know how much you crave to be loved. I’ll give you that. Just trust me”

His reassurance does little to calm your nerves as you feel dread pool in your gut.

“But Aemond, not like this, we can’t-”, you protest weakly. Despite the uneasiness taking root inside of you, your body betrays you as it still leans into the touch of his hand.

“I know how to fix you, just like I fixed Helaena”, he comforts you. His seeing eye seeks yours, silently inciting you to trust him,

“You were made for me, and I for you. I know you’ve been feeling lost for a long time. My uncle told me how depressed you were in Oldtown”

“The mother blessed women with wombs to heal their inner sadness. Becoming a mother will heal you”,

He pushes your body against the altar,

“We need to consummate our marriage, or it won’t be recognised by the Seven”

You feel dread settle in your bones as you take in his word.

“No, Aemond, please-, this is wrong! What would our mothers say?”, you desperately try to reason, panic making your breath quicker as he places his hands on either side of you on the altar; caging you in.

He lowers his head so closely that your noses touch, eye never straying away from yours,

“They’ll understand”

His lips find yours again. You know kissing him is wrong, yet your body melts into his touch as his soft lips press against yours.

Maybe they would understand?

Aemond’s tongue gently swipes over your lower lip, pushing to gain access. As he deepens the kiss, his hands travel down to your skirt, gathering the fabric in his grip before breaking away from you.

You’re both breathing heavily as you stay frozen, taking in each other's expressions. A thin line of translucent spit connects your lips and you notice Aemond’s eye flicker down to watch your kiss-swollen lips.

The conflicting emotions within you rage like the worst of storms, making your head spin. Aemond’s gentle prodding had successfully made you into putty in his hands, yet the uneasy feeling from before remains, steering you away from his control.

“No, no. We can’t, this has already gone too fa-”, you’re abruptly startled to silence as Aemond swiftly sinks down to his knees, pushing up the fabric of your skirt to expose your underwear.

You try to push your legs together but one of his hands quickly dart out to pull down the small piece of fabric separating your skin from his.

You place your hands on both sides of his head in an attempt to push him away, but his face moves towards your exposed centre with determination.

He grabs ahold of the outside of your thighs as he pushes your body towards his face, tongue immediately finding your bundle of nerves, swiping over it in rhythmic circles. Your grip on his head tightens as you push with all your strength for him to back away, but to no avail. He buries his face further into the apex of your thighs as he grips your tights painfully, fingertips leaving colourful marks of ownership.

You whine from the pain; from the pleasure building inside of you as Aemond forces your body into submission. He manhandles your right leg so that it rests on his shoulder, giving him further access to assault you with his mouth.

He sucks on your clit as he brings two fingers up to slide through your folds; the ease of which they glide lets him know the effect his touch has on you.

His fingers find your entrance, pushing inside to instantaneously curl forward, finding that spot inside you that always brings you waves of pleasure. You let out a startled moan as your hands go limp around Aemond’s head, simply resting there.

You close your eyes, violent pleasure making it hard for you to think clearly, just like how you’d felt in his office a few days ago.

Why does he have this effect on you? Why is he so good at this?

Why does it feel so good?

Another pathetic moan leaves your lips as he picks up the speed of his actions, purple and sapphire gaze watching you intently. You close your eyes once again, internally surrendering to his touch.

You want it. You need it.

You feel something ignite within you just as your peak crashes over you. The intensity makes your walls clench around Aemond’s fingers as you gasp in pleasure. Your legs shake from the force and you grab onto his hair for some stability.

He withdraws from you, slightly out of breath, and stands, large frame looming over you.

“No one else makes you feel as good as I do, no one else sees you like I do. We have found each other through the guidance of the seven, can’t you see that? We were meant to be”, he says and grabs your waist to hoists your slack body up on the altar.

He pushes your thighs apart, reaching down to undo his slacks and pulls them down just enough to free his length. It is just as intimidating as it had been yesterday; thick, veiny and ragingly red.

“You want this, I know you do”, he says before pushing inside you, causing you to whine at the stretch. You feel so full, and the impact of your orgasm makes your head feel fuzzy; like you’re floating away. Your walls contract around Aemond and he moans as he lowers his head to rest in the crook of your neck.

“You feel just as perfect as I knew you would”, he whispers in your ear. He draws his hips back, pushing them into yours with such force that your body jolts on the altar. You try to hold on to him with every harsh thrust, but your limbs feel too weak. It all feels so overwhelming, so good, that you can’t bite your lip hard enough to hinder the moans that bounce around the seven walls of the Sept.

One of Aemonds hands come down to draw circles on your clit once more. He pulls back slightly to watch you; to take in your pleasure-drunk expression.

“Let them hear you”, He presses down on your bundle of nerves harsher, still dragging his cock in strong, calculated movements along your walls.

The precision of his touch pushes you towards another peak, but when you feel it nearing, he withdraws completely, eyes flickering down to briefly admire the coat of your slickness adorning his manhood.

He grabs your hips, pulls you down from the altar and turns you around so that you’re facing away from him. Like in his office mere moments ago, he pushes on your back so that your chest makes contact with the wooden surface. He lets his cock glide through your folds before he leans down to mumble in your ear,

“Tell me what you want”

Robbing you of release has left you confused. Resigned and desperate, you let the throbbing between your thighs guide you,

“You, Aemond. I want you”

He pushes inside you again with a pleased grunt, picking up the pace quickly as he fucks you against the holy pedestal. Your hands grab both sides as it rocks in tandem with Aemond’s thrusts. His hand finds you clit again and this time you peak within seconds, pleasure washing over you as your legs turn into jelly.

You feel your legs give in, causing you to slide down on the floor. Aemond doesn’t let you go as he keeps fucking you, following you down to the floor. Your upper body jolts from the force of his movements, slowly slipping down to make contact with the cold stone floor.

He leans over you, pounding into you with force. One of his hands comes to rest above you on the altar, allowing him to fuck you harder, and you whine on the floor beneath him,

“Fucking take it”, he grunts as he goes harder, the contact of his hip bone against your abused backside sending stings of pain through your body.

His fingers find your clit again and you moan in pain-filled pleasure at the overstimulation, one hand reaching for his to push it away.

Aemond tuts behind you, “One more. Be good and give me one more”

You try to turn your head so that you can face him, but you’re unable to move, trapped under his body as he takes his pleasure from you. All you can do is take it; give in.

You cry out as you cum for the third time. Your walls clench down on Aemond’s length vigorously as they coax his release from him. You hear him sigh in pleasure as he fills you.

After a few moments, he pulls away from you, fingers moving to stuff whatever spend has trickled down your thigh back inside. You hiss at the pain. He whispers a gentle apology in your ear, helping you pull your underwear back up.

He stands and reaches down under the altar, picking up the flower crown that had fallen from your head sometime during the consummation. His fingers grasp it gently, placing it back on your head.

He looks so beautiful standing in front of you, the soft light from the candles and the silvery glimmer from the moonlight illuminating his features. He gives you another quick kiss before leading you out of the Sept to greet the residents still gathered outside.

As the two of you emerge from the building, beaming smiles, loud congratulations and well wishes for a prosperous future greet you and your husband.

Aemond never lets go of you, keeping you close to him as he chats with the residents; explaining his vision for the commune moving forward and the new role you’ll play as a permanent resident.

Somewhere inside, you know that you should feel ashamed over what just occurred; over the fact that the residents probably heard the entire ordeal as they patiently waited for you outside.

But all you can feel is bliss; a pleasant calm spreading from your chest. Heating up your insides.

Your life before now had been a long struggle, where you were forced to suffer. Forced to part from your closest childhood friend, forced to pursue a career to feel adequate, forced to live a mundane life in isolation.

Aemond pulls you away from the crowd, leaning down to whisper in your ear,

“Look up”

You see bright, green streaks of light decorate the dark night sky, accompanied by thousands of stars. It is the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen.

Aemond tugs you even closer to his side, resting his chin on your head as you silently admire the northern lights together. All you can feel is his warmth, the safety of being in someone’s embrace. Of being in Aemond’s embrace.

It’s warm.

Comforting.

Freeing.

Thank you for reading! 🩵

[aures-fantasy-nook]

Hobbit/LOTR characters when their s/o is upset with them

yes i'm reusing this trope and i dont care its easy-- also lmk if u want more characters and which onessss :3

requests are open (seriously please give me ideas)

Thorin

honestly

his reaction is so dependant on when you're upset with him

if its during the journey he will notice right away

he refuses to go to bed angry at each other

he makes time for you guys to talk every night

if its during his dragon sickness bit

yeah

no

he doesn't give a single shit

telling him that you're upset doesn't even do anything except make him mad

like you're wasting his time

AND

not looking for the stone so like

what the fuck are you doing

if we're talking like after the war

everybody lives au ofc

it probably takes him a little while to notice that you're upset if you don't flat out say anything

he's just slightly busy rebuilding a kingdom

honestly when he does notice or when you tell him

he feels bad

he decides it's time for a break

even if it's just for an hour or two

will take you through the halls just to talk through things

or he'll sit and have tea with you

honestly whatever you wanna do he's down

you are his only priority

if only for an hour

Fili

i would say that he's probably pretty in tune with your emotions

hes a sweet dwarf

will make you tea because he knows your upset

sometimes forgets that hes a little shit

like doesnt realise that things he does can make people upset

let alone you

right over his head

you will have to sit him down and talk with him

he will feel bad immediately

will apologize

offers to make it up to you in any way he can

I feel like if this happens after like the battle and the reclaiming of his future kingdom

he might be a bit busy

but he wants to sit and talk to you every night before bed

even if its just for a few minutes

so when you went to bed without him one night

oh he knows he messed up

theres no way to misinterpret that

will wake you up with kisses and apologies

even if he doesn't know what he is apologizing for

hes just a big sweetie

Kili

sweet boy

another kind of clueless one

id assume that you probably get upset at him sometime during the journey

while yes he is sweet

he can be kind of neglectful without meaning to be

he feels like he has to prove himself to his uncle because he is different from the other dwarves.

has a lot on his mind

i feel like he deffo neglects your relationship at times bc of it

which is why you pulled back

not pushing for affection as much as you did before

letting him get himself into bad situations

reminding him to eat/sharpen his sword

setting up his bedroll while he goes off to help with camp set up

it takes him a couple days to realize something is off

bc he totally doesnt realize how much you're actually looking out for him

it hits him one night after dinner that his bed roll isnt set up? and its not next to you? and you're already asleep?

wait when did he actually sit down and talk to you last?

doesn't sleep that night, just sits and watches you while thinking back on the past like week

as soon as you wake up he's by your side and asking if you guys could take a walk before the journey starts for that day

you agree

he immediately starts apologizing and explaining himself

i think the best way to deal with it is to like

have a nice sit down and talk it out

maybe not right at that moment but

eventually you guys have a long talk where you both talk about how you're feeling with the relationship and just emotionally and i think that solves a lot

like he lets u know just how insecure he is bc of how different he is

and you can talk about feeling neglected

at the end of it all he promises to put more effort but also wants you to know that you dont HAVE to do all those things for him to notice you/love you

very healthy tbh

[starseungs]

han jisung x gn!reader. fluff, slight angst, brother's friend au. kinda school au. 0.9k wc.

note: mentions of y/n having trouble eating due to stress. yes this is VERY self indulgent (like my other jisung fics) leave me alone </3 i need this ... also watch me reuse odd for the nth time in this fic lol

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

[ 7:24 PM ] You were odd. That was the first thought that came into Jisung’s mind when he first met you. In his defense, who in their right mind wouldn’t think that way after witnessing you chop up a cheesecake into bite-sized squares?

Well, even “meet” was a strong word for that moment, really. He simply stumbled upon you in that horrendous act—in your own family’s kitchen, no less. Jisung had only expected to grab a couple of cold sodas from your fridge, with the permission of his friend, your older brother. Instead, he had to witness a terrifying massacre of one of his favorite desserts on the planet.

However, Jisung didn’t say anything about it. He just walked over to the fridge and did as he was told, ignoring the curious stares you pointed at him. At that short-lived interaction, he merely left the impression as is. You were odd.

Jisung soon came to realize that his first perception of you would be a running theme throughout everything that had to do with you in his life.

It was odd—the way you laughed and joked around with your friends at school. He found himself watching you carefully across the cafeteria hall, not even sure about what he was supposed to be looking at. You were eating well; even though it was just a light snack. To be fair, what else would you be doing in the cafeteria hall during lunch time, if not that? Yet, it still didn’t sit right with him to the point that he wanted to march up over to your table and feed you something more filling himself.

You were smiling, at least. A genuine one, if he could tell properly.

“What’s got all your attention?” It was only then that Jisung’s staring got broken off. Jeongin looked at him expectantly for an answer—one that Jisung didn’t want to give him as your brother.

Jisung sucked in a breath. “Nothing. I was spacing out, that’s all.”

Yes, it was truly odd. 

Odd, like the way his eyebrows immediately furrowed when you slammed through the front doors of your house one afternoon, heavily stomping towards your room. Another slam echoed through the house, telling of the way you treated your bedroom door with the same care. Jisung feels like he just swallowed a pebble.

“Don’t mind them,” Jeongin huffed, clearly annoyed at how you acted in front of a guest. “Y/N’s always got something going on.”

Jisung’s mouth only soured further. Now, that can’t be right. He had seen the way you acted when you were happy, or just going through the motions of the day. Compared to those looks of yours that he had unknowingly burned into his memory, the expression you had on was definitely a telltale sign that you were upset.

And just like that, he found himself telling his friends that he needed to use the bathroom. If he remembered correctly, your room was just right down the hall, which just so happened to be next to said bathroom. Jisung really didn’t want to call himself nosy, but when his ears picked up the sound of sniffling, his right hand was knocking softly at your door in an instant.

How odd.

Your door creaked open after a few more seconds, along with your confused face peaking out. He watched your expression break out into a tight smile when you saw him. Your eyes had a slight tint of red. “Did you need anything? The bathroom is the door behind you, by the way.”

Jisung didn’t know why, but he felt a sharp sting on his chest when he saw your smile. It wasn’t genuine, if he could tell. “Stop that,” he blurted out suddenly. Your face fell as his unexpectedly cold tone.

“Sorry?”

“You don’t want to smile,” Jisung pointed out, pursing his lips as if he had tasted something foul. You scoffed in disbelief.

“How polite of you.”

Now, Jisung was at a loss. What exactly was his purpose for this conversation? Not that he knew—just that he started it and had nowhere to lead to. Luckily, your stomach growled loudly, as if to save him from his misery. “Oh, we have pizza downstairs. If you want some.” 

Great job, Jisung. How smooth of you.

“I—” Your face felt warm in embarrassment, causing you to immediately clutch your stomach in a sad attempt at hiding it. To Jisung, it seemed like you were about to say something in retort before something possibly unpleasant crossed your mind. You sighed tiredly instead. “I’m not too sure if I can stomach something right now.”

Jisung frowned at your excuse. “Are you stressed?” You raised an eyebrow at his question. He quickly backpedals at the realization of how direct he just was. “I—uh, I meant if you’re having a hard time?”

Somehow, that seemed to work since you managed to crack an amused smile. Jisung finds himself thinking about how pretty your genuine ones are. 

“And if I am?”

“Then you need to eat,” he nods firmly, casually trying to chase away the thoughts swirling in his mind at that moment. “I’ll get you just a slice and water. You don’t have to finish the slice, but at least finish the glass.”

Jisung couldn’t help the way he caught sight of how your pretty lips parted open in shock. Your grip on your doorknob tightened ever so slightly. “Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t know,” he says truthfully. “Something is telling me to. It’s odd.”

“You—”

“I’m Jisung.” He turns to walk away. “Be right back.” A low exclamation of bewilderedness came out of you before you called out to him again.

“I already know that, dummy!” He unconsciously grins at that. You were so odd. 

And Jisung starts to think that he likes odd.

MASTERTAG ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @wnbnny @xocandyy @minluvly @moon0fthenight @estellaluna @hanjsquokka @starlostastronaut @minsueng @l3visbby @myjisung @thecutiepieme

[tsukimefuku]

unwell ❖ nanami kento

summary: you had a terrible day, but at least, you’ve got a helping hand.

cw: soft nanami x reader, implied past higuruma x reader, reader is having a mental breakdown but in a kind of funny way, hurt and comfort, a lot of fluff, i want this man to pat my hair dry as i have a meltdown and drink wine straight from a bottle.

wc: 1.1k

notes etc.: the inspo song is in the title, unwell (matchbox twenty). i will reuse this scene in another fic with another turn of events.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

❖ hold me in your clarity ❖

As Nanami closed the door while entering your apartment holding groceries, he heard the water in the bathroom being turned on. Figuring you must be taking a shower, he calmly went in the to leave the bags over the counter and began to make his way into the bedroom to see if you had left plates or anything of the sort. However, upon walking by the bathroom, Nanami realized the door was open, stepping back immediately.

You didn't fail to notice that out of your peripheral vision.

"It's okay, I'm fully clothed," you yelled through the thundering water, while you held your second bottle of wine of the night a little outside from the water's range.

"... What?"

You sighed.

"You can come in, Kento."

He stepped inside the bathroom to witness a rather… unexpected scene. You still had the usual clothes you wore for missions on, and was barefoot inside the shower, while holding a bottle of wine. 

"Did you know the first time I encountered Hiromi, he was fully clothed inside a bathtub?" you asked Nanami, while still looking straight ahead to the wall in front of you.

He seemed slightly worried under his collected expression.

"I didn't."

"Yeah…" you ensued, taking a gulp of wine, "he had a suit on. I mean, it seemed fun, but maybe it just looked that way because he was in a bathtub. Taking a shower with your clothes on is just… sad."

He knew you enough to realize something must've happened for you to be in that state, but wondered if this would be the best moment to probe at it. 

You gave him no options, though.

"Three people died on my mission today. And another yesterday. I… I just need one win, you know? To have at least one single thing in my life that isn’t buried in deep shit."

You were clearly in the middle of an astrological hell, getting thrown around like a penny inside a washing machine. Every little damn thing in your life was going wrong ever since Higuruma left Tokyo, and you were doing your best to keep your sanity as intact as it could be.

Even if it meant trying weird shit like this.

"I see," Nanami replied, not having much to say beyond that. He knew the hardships that came with this life, and thought that maybe having a little mental breakdown taking a shower fully clothed was one of the most harmless things you could do right now.

However, it was also cold, and you would for a fact catch a cold if you kept going.

He walked towards the shower, and you wondered what exactly he was about to do. Opening it, he turned off the water, while pulling the towel from its support.

"Hey!" you protested.

"Come, you need to dry yourself," he noted, offering a hand to help you out.

With a pout, you walked outside and sat on the sink, still mindlessly holding onto your bottle.

He enveloped you in the towel he had pulled, and grabbed another nearby to pat your hair as dry as possible.

"You should avoid leaving the bathroom right now, you're drenched," he said, no chide intended.

You scoffed.

"Yeah, perhaps."

"I can get some clothes for you to change, if you'd like."

Reluctantly, you nodded.

"Later."

He acquiesced, and kept patting your hair dry.

"Nanami, how do you not go crazy with this fucking job? How are you so stable?" you inquired, taking another gulp of wine and looking at him, "I need some encouragement words."

He pondered for a moment before sighing.

"I don't have any. It's a hard and most times unrewarding work that needs to be done."

You grunted.

"Guess you're right. We just hold the string of sanity for dear life and hope it doesn't snap, right?"

He nodded softly.

"You could say that."

"What a nightmare," you replied, taking another sip, "I want to talk about something else, this is depressing me even further, let's chat."

Nanami sighed, yet again, now chiding, "you should get dry, eat something and rest."

"Oh, we can talk about anything, come on!" you encouraged, half in jest, "I'm a bottle and a half in, won't remember a thing tomorrow."

"That's even more of a reason for you to sleep. I'll leave some food for you in your fridge."

You were both silent for a little while until you began speaking again.

"Do you know what this is remembering me of? You patting my head down with a towel? That night."

"What night?" he asked.

"Our night, Kento. The one you so tenderly referred to as 'the events of' on the note you left me before leaving the next morning for a mission." 

You said tenderly in the mockiest voice he'd ever heard.

"... Oh."

Nanami's body had noticeably stiffened up, and you could swear he was slightly blushing.

"Yeah, not one of your greatest moments. I mean, the note. Not the night. The night was great. Amazing, really."

Nanami cleared his throat, feeling deeply embarrassed, to say the least.

"I apologize."

"No worries, I forgave you, remember?" you replied, chuckling softly. 'The events of last night', Jesus… "So… You already told me why you pushed me away, but did we have a shot at it?"

And he had told you how he was frightened of the losses the both of you could endure if you had in fact entered a relationship, how it reminded him of his past losses, past failures and the whole story.

But you never got to discuss the what if.

Nanami had a bated breath faltering as he opened his mouth to speak, and seemed to actually think out his answer carefully, before finally speaking up again.

"I believe so."

A deep sigh got pulled from your lungs as you put your wine bottle away.

"Yeah… me too. I loved you," you mumbled, defeated. The next part came inaudibly, and you weren't sure if you were actually saying it or thinking it.

Still do.

His hands seemed to stop patting you dry for the briefest moment before he continued to do so, completely silent. You were unsure if this had been your imagination, and if he had heard that or not.

A few moments later, he put the small towel on the sink by your side and stepped behind.

"I'll get you some clean clothes for you to change into."

"Okay," you mumbled.

As he was about to step out of the bathroom, you called out, "hey, Kento…"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

He smiled and bowed his head towards you, saying, "you're welcome," finally walking out of the bathroom.

Did I say it out loud? 

[nyxila]

MORE of Jinx Isha and Ekko headcanons. BUT this time, its more oc? Like I want to put some here like "what if they had another kid, Jinx's pregnancy etc." And I know, some people hate it. So please if you do not like this idea, do not read this one. I will try to do more so anyone can read them! <3 Not every head canon in this will be about this idea, but there will be. Wich ones wont be about this, I will reuse in another post, so anyone can read it <3

Ekko likes to use pet names on Jinx "babe, dear, love. My darling etc.." she likes them only in privet.

Scar (Ekko's second in comand of firelights) didnt like Isha at first. She was wierd to him. But soon learnd to like her. He was one of the first ones who accepted Jinx among them. To annoy her, he calls her Inx. She as reavenge calls him Sca (she always looks like shes trowing up).

Ekko and Jinx again created their round bike. They annoy the shit out of other firelighs.

Jinx still goes to last drop to just sit in Silco's old office and just talks to herself.

Ekko painted Au Powder so Jinx can see her. Isha saw it too and did her hair as Powder. Jinx got mad at her (for first time in history) and stormed out of the base. Isha spended the day crying in Ekko's arms. When Jinx came back, Isha was still crying but didn't came near Jinx. Jinx after little time couldnt watch Isha cry anymore and just cuddled her for the rest of the night.

When Jinx finded out she was pregnant, her first idea was that for sure she's gona "Jinx" that kid. Later that day Ekko founds her crying. At first she does not want to tell him what happend. When she finally does. He does not react so he wont scare her (he secretly tries not to jump and cry in happiness).

Jinx didn't said anything about her pregnancy until it was visible.

She was acually the calmest in her life during her pregnancy, she was also at her weakest. In the begin of her pregnancy, she trew up daily even two times. Aperently it was thanks to Shimmer.

Ekko was nonstop scared that Shimmer would kill both Jinx and their baby. Luckily it did not.

Isha was extremly happy about the news. She wanted baby sister and was really pissed of when she got little brother. But she loves him.

Jinx is always scared that she will accidently hurt her kids.

She hated how everyone wanted to hold her baby. She let only Ekko to hold their baby.

Vi almost killed Ekko when she founded out about Jinx's pregnancy. Cait was acually the one who stoped her. Even thou she says she does not care, Cait is acually good aunt to both Isha and her brother.

Jayce and Viktor does not visit under city and firelights base often. But they always make super sure to bring Isha and her brother gifts (Viktor insist on this.)

Both Isha and her brother love Lest. They are so confused why kids love them, but they like kids as well.

Sometimes Ekko talks Jinx into letting kids with Scar or some of their friends and they spend time just together. Jinx hates letting kids alone, but she is always greatfull for when Ekko does this.

Jinx, Ekko and Isha has matching nails.

Ekko is weirdly obsessed with Jinx's hair. Like anytime he can, he plays with her hair, brush it, braid it or just hold few of them.

Jinx and Isha both gently tugs on Ekko's clothes when they want/need his attantion.

When Zeri joined firelights, she was jelous over Jinx (bcs she too liked Ekko). They once had fight and after Jinx almost broke Zeri's spine, she stoped even looking at Ekko (Zeri is from league of legends and is also from Zaun. I saw some people shiping Zeri and Ekko so I got this idea, also this is more for people who do not play league)

Jinx and Ekko are both really easily jealous.

When Ekko for the first time heard the song from Au. He asked Jinx for the dance.

When he heard it for the second time, he told her that he loves her.

When he heard it for the fifth time, he proposed.

When he heard it for the tenth time, she told him she is pregnant.

[mysteriousbp]

UTY Second Chance AU unused content.

Yeah... There's some unused stuff that I have around. So rather than let it rot in my files, I will just show it here.

Unused art for this

Yeah... There's unused art for the first post,

Originally this was the original Amalgamate Kanako design:

But I gave her clothes back because her design was too plain for my liking. So it's not unused but changed.

Another used art for the first post is this one:

Originally I wanted to make the Ketsukane's more kitsune-like with multiple tails. There was supposed to be a stab with how Ceroba didn't have a tail in game with her only having one tail in my AU. But that just made it look like I'm calling her stupid. So it was scrap. But this is an idea I want to rework one day.

----

Well... Originally, the time between Kanako falling down and leaving the True Lab wasn't the almost 2 years that it's now in my AU canon. Originally, it was supposed to be a 5-year gap. But I found it too long for poor Kanako, so it was shorted to almost 2 years. But part of the original plan that was also scrapped because of that change was the plan of having Sadie and GK outgrowing Kanako.

Yeah... Originally, those two were planned to outgrow Kanako so she would have a new set of monster friends. But it was scrapped. And thank god it was. I feel in love with Sadie and GK since I started to make them Kanako's BFFs for this AU. (And originally GK didn't have hair or a tail) But these designs were later reused for their teen designs for my Deltarune Yellow AU.

Never throw out your unused stuff. It may be useful later.

----

The Meanwhile post.

Well... Rather than just using a screen shot, I originally made art for the post.

But I wasn't happy with it so it was scrapped.

----

Tom original design:

Originally, Tom had a missing tooth and a shoelace missing in one of his shoes.

These things weren't originally meant to be scrapped... I just forgot. But by the time I remembered, Tom already had appeared with all of his teeth and none of his shoelaces in some posts. So those design choices were scrap.

Melody original name:

In the concept art, Melody was originally named Grace.

But it was changed because Melody sounded better.

----

This post originally had art made for it.

But it was scrapped because it didn't explain well some things. So I just answered it without art.

----

This post also had unused art.

I just didn't know how to explain any of it. So the art was horribly written. So it was unsued and I just tried my best to explain.

----

This is the early art for this post.

I changed it because it was too confusing. Too much going on with the first one. (Also, this was a what if fight. The red soul was used as an exemple.)

----

This post originally had a different version of the comic.

Originally the comic was supposed to take place outside. And the opening drawing from that version was the only thing drawn.

It originally started with the reason why Frisk missed the call after the Flawed pacifist. Because they were making a memorial for the others.

----

This was art for an original post that I never posted because I thought it wasn't funny after finishing it.

----

And here's some art without some of the effects.

Here is the orphanage photo without the old effect to make it look like it was taken from an old camera.

And here's art from this post without the faces being covered up.

----

I think that's it. For now...

[astra-galaxie]

also, if the motp crew were to be reintroduced in the modern world, what do you think their jobs would be if they weren’t police officers?

I’ve been thinking of making a S5 reboot concept, where like the motp cast comes to grimsborough to search for the player because boom they somehow remember thier past lives and how they were all best buds, and I’m stumped on whether to make them regular civilians, or police officers

(Maybe even include a scene where there slightly upset player’s with the grinnsborough police department and won’t join them…)

That sounds like a fantastic idea for an AU concept! It sucks that the MotP characters can't appear in other seasons since it's set like 100+ years in the past, so bringing them back through reincarnation is definitely thinking outside of the box!

You could choose either career option, as both would work! If you went the police route, I think the bigger question would be whether they work for the CPD or if the Flying Squad is still operational/has been brought back with them somehow.

(And having them be upset that the player won't leave the GBPD would be fitting, especially if the player doesn't remember their past life, unlike the Flying Squad…)

Now, for your initial question!

In my "modern-day Flying Squad headcanons" post, I mentioned some potential jobs the Flying Squad could have. But let’s see what else I can come up with for possible careers they could have if they didn't work for a police force…

Arthur Wright: I once headcanoned that he was a professional violinist, so I’m going to reuse that idea! Other than that, maybe a teacher of some sort or a small shop owner? (I don’t know what this man would do besides Police Chief…)

Isaac Bontemps: He’s a bit of a challenge, too…. It would probably be something classy… Maybe an antique dealer? I don’t know what exactly Isaac’s modern-day job would be… I could see him being a boxer in his younger years but stopping after a serious injury, but other than that, I'm at a bit of a loss!

Maddie O’Malley: I could see her working in a car-related field, maybe mechanics and racing on the side. I picture her as someone who enjoys driving fast and the freedom it gives her.

Dick Wells: I think he would still work in the medical field, and if I had to pick something besides a coroner, I would say a doctor, possibly one who works in palliative care since he seems to have no issues dealing with death. Another option could be a mortician if he went the non-medical route.

Viola Pemberton: I could see her following in her parents' footsteps and becoming a pharmacist. She would still act on the side, performing in plays at the local theatre.

Charlie Dupont: An engineer who invents things on the side. It just seems to fit him!

Evie Halloway: A librarian. She would also still write books on the side, probably starting small, like how she had a series in “Pistols and Petticoats” and then expanding and branching out as an independent author.

Rose Zhao: I could see her having worked for the military and, after leaving, taking up bounty hunting. Rose always strikes me as somewhat of an adrenaline junkie, so her career should be equally as exciting!

Diego del Lobo: Probably still an artist and thief on the side, but I’ve always had the headcanon that he makes his own clothes, so his main career could be a tailor/fashion designer.

And that’s all I got! Hopefully, this will help you with your S5 reboot concept! If you ever need help, you can reach out to me anytime, and I’ll see what I can do!😊

[drinkabletoxicdishsoap]

I made a small little brainstorm post about an idol jasmine au and I’m just going to let out my thoughts here about it !! It’s a lot so be prepared

I have some small one shot ideas (I’ll share them at the end) but I have 2 main ones:

1. Idol group au. Jasmine, Hazel, and Winn are all in an idol group :3 Jasmine was the one who started it after getting inspired by her favorite girl group. She went to Hazel and Winn with the idea of starting a group and they were like, “of course we’ll join you! You don’t even have to ask :D” and then they started!!!! Jasmine is the composer, Hazel is the costume designer, and Winn is the lyricist. If they do 2D music videos and such, Hazel is the illustrator and Winn is the maker of the 2D mvs. Jasmine and Hazel work together to help get their group to participate in events and their communities as well. Their goal is to inspire people to never give up, no matter how bad you think you are something. Just keep trying and you’ll eventually exceed your expectations!! Another goal of theirs is to bring people together with the power of music and their voices. (I have a lot of more lore planned for this au, I’ll make a headcanon post about it later. I’m just getting my ideas down). The song below (2:04) is probably their debut song!! (MORE! JUMP! MORE! - MORE MORE JUMP)

2. Solo act Jasmine. After training her voice for a while, she decides to post her own songs and music videos she’s made! Winn and Hazel are fully there supporting her :3 they help from the sidelines. They help write songs with Jasmine, help with music videos, and help with costume design! (I have a lot of more lore planned for this au, I’ll make a headcanon post about it later. I’m just getting my ideas down). The song above is still probably the debut song (I’m gonna reuse it for this whole thing 😭😭) her goal is the same in the idol group au!

now for the small one shot ideas which I probably won’t reuse but still want to get them out anyways:

Jasmine, after a lot of encouragement from Hazel and Winn, decides to try out for a company. She gets in as a solo act ! Hazel and Winn go to every single one of her concerts, no matter what, and cheer her on :3 they probably buy all of her merch too

probably follows the same thing as above but a little different. Jasmine tries out, makes it, but gets into an idol group with a bunch of random people

tries out for a company, doesn’t make it, but does the solo act thing from above

in a company, starts her own group with either a bunch of random people or Hazel and Winn

Not really a new idea, but I think it would be funny if Hazel, Winn, and Jasmine, all tried out for a group without each of them knowing. They all get in and when they go to the first meeting they’re like, “NO WAY YOU TRIED OUT TOOO?!?!?!??!”

(I have no idea of where Cosmo and Wanda would be, but I feel like if you either kept them or didn’t the whole story wouldn’t really change that much)

anyways that’s all I can think of right now !! If I have more thoughts I’ll either edit, reblog, say something in the replies, or say it in my headcanon post about this au. But if you have any ideas, feel free to send them in my inbox :D

Thank you so much for coming to another yap session <3 I hope you have a great day/night wherever you are in the world

[queen0fm0nsterz]

I’m starting to think that the kid the lady is next to in that one painting (when the guest are chasing you) is probably not their daughter or someone important, maybe it was a promotional painting to show people thus “hey, look the lady is good with kids!” When the reality couldn’t be further from the truth.

DUDE I HAVE BEEN SAYING THIS FOR CENTURIESSSS THAT GIRL IS NOT HER KID BROOOO

Look with all the evidence I've gathered atp I am very convinced that the girl in the painting is her. I am compiling everything in a post to answer another anon rn but I deadass started to dislike any theory involving the concept of the Lady being a mother.

I myself have done this in the past (the parallels between her and the Pretender were not lost on me), but tbh I think she works so much better without having a kid for a multitude of reasons.

She does not like people. She wants to be left alone. To go out there and find someone who would have a child with her -- no actually scratch that, FOR HER TO FIND SOMEONE SHE TOLERATES ENOUGH TO HAVE A CHILD WITH would be out of character considering what we know about her.

^ same reason as to why I think she wouldn't adopt under normal circumstances.

^^ a child under her care would last a maximum of 3 days.

None of the children that were indicated as having relations back to her look like the girl in the painting. RCG's hair are too brownish and too long + how would she leave the Maw? Where would she find a hot air balloon near/on a submarine?, the Pretender is albino + the developers went out of their way to make her face very different from the other kids, the Flashlight Girl looks like any other girl in the Maw because they reused her model + she has 0 relevance before and after that + I think the girl in the painting was slightly remodeled and differently rendered just for the pictures like the other Ladies were resized and had their hairstyles modified.

^ These are all great in AU context, but I think canonically none of them would work/line up. The best bet for daughter title was Six and the developers went out of their way to publicly state that they are NOT related in that way.

IN SAID STATEMENT THE DEVS SAID THAT THERE IS NOTHING MOTHERLY ABOUT THE LADY.

The fact that so many people want to push the mother theory onto her really sounds like a scapegoat to not explore her character further. I would not be as upset if I hadn't seen her be dismissed as just a "heartless mother who hates her daughter/wants their beauty/is envious of her child" and yadda yadda yadda so many times.

Do you know how many times that trope has been done? And for it to be applied to such a layered, complex character as her only traits? That and being vain maybe if you're feeling generous, when the truth is that she is quite literally the most complex LN antagonist -- much like Six is the most complex protagonist. Six and the Lady are/have both been victims of fandom misogyny and it kills me to my core send tumblr post

I'm sorry for the rant. Again, I do enjoy the thought of the Lady being in a motherly role (I HAVE MADE A LADY MOM AU MYSELF) but not if it means assassinating her character. The only Lady assassination I support is the one carried out by Six.

[lightyaoigami]

✧ my writing master post ✧

if you read, please leave a comment and let me know what you liked! i hope that you enjoy my writing. mind the tags. please note my permission statement. (ﾉ◡‿◡)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ･: *

collections

lacuna

kompromat ✧ rated t ✧ interpol detective inspector light yagami goes to a hotel bar in london and sees a familiar face. the man denies any past between them, but is he telling the truth? canon divergent fix-it. my magnum opus,, my attempt at in the mood for love,,, my precious,,,, even though the ending needs to be retconned.

adieu, adieu ✧ rated e ✧ prequel to kompromat. what happens in the last few hours before light loses his memories. use your imagination!

transference ✧ rated t ✧ grand finale. sad and unsatisfying - my specialty!

when the night is over ✧ rated t ✧ special new year's eve bonus episode

alignment

alignment  ✧ rated e ✧ what if light was a wall street analyst obsessed with the office IT guy?

dial in ✧ rated e ✧ set after the events of alignment. what's a little phone call between weird boyfriends? coauthored with quicktimeeventfull!

teams ✧ rated e ✧ holiday bonus episode pwp sorry

college au

down bad ✧ rated e ✧ not all sex goes according to keikaku, unfortunately. but l & light can have a little jungle juice as a treat. crack played straight.

down horrendous ✧ rated e ✧ sequel to down bad. l shows light the ropes. interpret that as you see fit.

hot box ✧ rated t ✧ american thanksgiving bonus episode

kinktober

reduce, reuse, recycle ✧ rated m ✧ weird but you guys liked it lmao. bondage day.

heard in heaven ✧ rated e ✧ heirophilia/punishment day. canonverse.

gifts

whetstone ✧ rated e ✧ knifeplay day. follows heard in heaven.

because the night ✧ rated e ✧ light gets tdickmatized

amnesia haze ✧ rated t ✧ fellas, is it gay to get stoned and climb into your bff’s lap and make out with him? light says no, it’s not gay, and neither is he. more crack played straight. a holiday gift for my dear friends @quicktimeeventfull @kenway & @bi-snapdragon ♡

words of affirmation ✧ rated t ✧ l discovers a fun way to make light work faster and also drive him insane. a win-win situation. for my friends @quicktimeeventfull & @god-of-this-new-blog ♡

other

angel’s share ✧ rated m ✧ companion to animal games by @quicktimeeventfull. l takes light to a fancy event and ditches him at the bar. light is none too thrilled. violent fantasies and cocaine ensue.

subject: next steps ✧ not rated ✧ a very gigabrained person once asked, if light were to propose to l, how would he do it? and another gigabrained person, @bi-snapdragon, said that he would write a formal email request. this is that email.

hot hands ✧ rated e ✧ light wants to go to sleep, but l wants to play a game. who could foresee that this leads to a fight and a little more? everything you know and love about yotsuba lawlight even if it's objectively not that well done lmao. cut me some slack, it was my first creative writing effort in my entire life.

[cicadadust]

I promise I'll get back to drawing canon characters soon. But woo- took me three days to finish. But my boi Kaiba is complete! This is probably the most cluttered ref I've ever made haha.

Potential Rakuyou arc spoilers ahead so be warned:

Originally he was inspired by a post where someone mentioned the artist phenomenon of a canon character basically turning into their OC after awhile.

And it all started with well, I love Kamui. And I love his first official appearance with the bandages obscuring his face - maybe I could work with that. But then I shoved so many of my AU things and other ideas I enjoy into this character that he's mutated so much that he barely has any trace of Kamui left in his character. Definitely not story wise, nor personally, maybe a few elements design wise still along with the fact of being a Yato. Kaiba actually ended up being much more like Kouka story wise than I intended though (*cough* probably because Kaiba was mainly based on my AU of Kamui being the sole Altana mutant on Kouan instead of Kouka *cough*) but eh, I'll live with that.

Despite being a yato and Altana mutant...I may have taken a few creative liberties design wise. But I have my excuses! One thing is, I absolutely love Yato- but wish they had a few more I guess inhuman traits. Like please give them larger canine teeth and reflective pupils please🙏🥺. I thought the reflective pupils for Yato would be really cool, or funny, if Kagura had em too. So I tossed those traits into there. And I know Yato are supposed to be fair skinned- but I had an idea! Since Yato seem to be able to build up a slight tolerance to sunlight, like with Kagura being able to be out in broad daylight, while Housen who hasn't been exposed in a long time immediately started dying. I figured what if during Yato disopra, one of the groups of survivors who had fled Kouan ended up on this sunny desert dwarf planet... probably not by choice. Though there, the survivors perhaps started to build up a higher tolerance to the sunlight. But yet they're still not immune to it. And could have been the downfall of the few generations that had managed to survive for long enough. Kaiba was from this specific clan of Yato that had settled on the dwarf planet. With a slightly higher tolerance to sunlight than the typical Yato, and with the combo of being an altana mutant. Kaiba was free to enjoy the sunlight for much longer before feeling the effects of it, allowing him to gain more of his tanned complexion. Also just shares the same reptile brain as me, with the desire to just lay out in the sun on warm rocks. Though if he's an altana mutant, how come he has a scar? That should just heal right? ... Well, I have absolutely no excuse for that for now! I just wanted to reuse a scar design from one of my older characters because I thought it'd look nice on Kaiba 👉👈.

Now to get a little more into his story and such. It starts off similarly to Kouka's. As again Kaiba is the last member of his clan surviving alone on his birth planet due to him being a mutant. The forgotten dwarf planet, which I've named Ardoros, is covered in reddish orange sands, stone, and a whole bunch of space junk wich collects on its surface. With so much metal and scrap around, Kaiba developed a skill in metal working. And even managed to find a junked ship one day. This was obviously very exciting as he managed to get it to function- just barely. With many days having spent wandering Ardoros previously, he had already discovered one of its altana crystals. Albeit small, he fashioned it into an earring to serve as a battery in a way before he finally left. But being the absolute hunk of junk it was, Kaiba's ship broke down when he managed to land on another planet. And with no money or anything to fix it, he's began relying on hitchhiking. Traveling all over the universe with the aid of strangers. This got to go on for years, exploring new planets, trying new food etc- he absolutely loved it. But, the crystal he wears is almost depleted along with his own altana energy. He continues to hitchhike, yes. But now determined to find his way back to Ardoros before it's too late. Thing is - he's never been skilled at navigating, always leaving that up to whoever he was traveling with. He has also encountered no one else who's even heard of Adoros, no one else knows it's location either. And currently his latest stop during his attempts to get home, is on earth.

[minhyeong]

&. 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 (𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞)

genre: angst, unrequited love au | word count: 1,188

↳ Jaemin thought you were a lot like a red balloon that he accidentally released into the blue sky, hastily slipping right out of his grasp and floating far away. 

He used to do this peculiar, little thing where he would allow himself to briefly, for just a few short moments, fall in love with another stranger who stepped into his line of vision on the streets, train stations, and even at the corner store that he frequented. 

Jaemin was good at falling in love with strangers to fill the momentary bouts of loneliness, but he was also good at falling out of it. No face in the sea of people lingered too long in his mind. 

So he didn’t understand why he allowed you, of all strangers, to stay. Perhaps you had shown up when a particular bout of loneliness stretched on for a little too long. 

Jaemin couldn’t quite remember the first time he laid his eyes on you or pinpoint the exact moment you dug a deep well into his heart until you became someone irreplaceable. However, he could vividly recall the way he felt like he was drowning at the bottom of the well when you told him you started seeing someone. 

The skyline was so bright, and the breeze smelled like lemons and cotton candy. Sidewalks were littered with doodles drawn with broken chalk. The chocolate ice cream he had before he left the house left a sickly sweet aftertaste on the tip of his tongue. There was a spring in his steps as he approached you, the grin reaching his eyes that squinted under the relentless sunrays. It was the first day of summer, and his life was going to change; he could feel it. 

His confession was knocked right out of his mouth. Jaemin had to fight to keep the smile on his face while you raved about someone else. The revelations felt awfully like violent stabs of rejection for the words that he never had the chance to deliver. 

Jaemin thought you were a lot like a red balloon that he accidentally released into the blue sky, hastily slipping right out of his grasp and floating far away. 

He didn’t think it was possible for him to hate the first day of summer this much. 

Jaemin disappeared off the face of the earth for four days before he reappeared. He spent his time alone sitting on park benches and empty tables at cafes where a bitter scent hung heavy in the humid air and thoughts of missed opportunities clouded his mind. 

After eleven missed calls and blocks of blue text messages, he finally responded to your twelfth call. 

“Where have you been?” Your voice pierced through his phone as you demanded answers. Then, you faltered, huffing as you paced around your room to calm down. “Are you going through something? You know you can tell me anything.” 

A wistful silence settled in between the call. Jaemin fiddled with the hem of his white shirt. “Sorry for ghosting you,” he mumbled with a brief chuckle. “Want to... hang out?” Even without seeing him, you could sense his hesitation and mild uneasiness.

Jaemin showed up in front of your house in thirty minutes with half melted ice cream and beverages in a reused takeout bag. He barged his way into your living room before you could even fully open the door for him, and you nearly got knocked over by the force of his sudden enthusiasm. 

“I brought your favorite! I was thinking we could watch a movie! Or maybe even two movies if you don’t fall asleep by then, so we have to start now!” He shoved everything on your coffee table aside and unloaded everything inside the bag. When he noticed your stillness, he paused, returned your stare, and cocked his head to the side. “What?”

He confused you like a challenging puzzle, and sometimes you wondered if you really knew him. You shook your head, simply glad to have your quirky friend back, and settled into the couch beside him. He handed you a spoon and shoved the tub of ice cream into your hands, wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes as he took the lid off for you. “Little Mermaid?” 

Jaemin sang along, forcing out every high note he could rip out of his strained vocal cords, and he appeared so happy whenever you stole quick glances at him that you forgot all about the way he behaved strangely for the past few days. 

You didn’t even notice an incoming call until he faintly heard your phone vibrating next to the half emptied bottles on the table and nudged you with his knee to bring your attention to it. 

He wished he hadn’t when you flipped your phone over and he saw the contact. He didn’t miss the way your entire face lit up when you answered the call, and he certainly didn’t mean to overhear your conversation even though you had stepped away. 

But there was a warmth in your voice that he was unfamiliar with, the kind that made his heart lurch, the kind that filled his lungs with waves of despair. He clutched his spoon a little harder until the plastic folded under the pressure. 

By the time you returned, Jaemin had already cleaned up your table of trash and wiped down the stains on the glass. He stood by your door with his sneakers on, looking a little lost. 

You glanced at the television screen that was still paused at the spot you left off at. “Where are you going? The movie isn’t over yet.” 

“It’s late,” he said sheepishly. “I should go.” 

You blinked at him, confused by the switch in his behaviors once again. “You can stay over. It’s not like you never slept over before.” The chuckle you let out quickly dissipated when he maintained a stoic expression with glassy eyes that were bordering on sadness. You uneasily shifted your weight from one foot to the other. 

His eyes flitted toward you when you called out to him with a soft murmur. 

You were looking right at him, eyes unwavering as you inched toward him, but he didn’t feel seen. 

Jaemin couldn’t help but think he felt a little less lonely before he met you. 

“No,” he asserted, a broad grin returning to his face. “It’s fine.”

It wasn’t enough to convince you. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’ll see you around,” he interrupted before slipping out the door. You rushed forward to hold it open before it could slam shut, jamming your foot in the door frame as you stepped out. 

Jaemin was already halfway down the block before he pivoted on his heels. The faint street lamp tinted his features a gentle orange. He smiled at you, so you smiled back despite the inexplicable dread that sat heavy on your chest. 

“Have a good summer.” He waved, the smile never leaving his face, before he pivoted again, sprinting down the street and vanishing into the summer night.

He felt like a stranger. 

No, Jaemin could never be a stranger, yet an odd feeling took over, as if you were never going to see him again, and if you did, he wouldn’t be the same Jaemin you once knew.

[nxwtonsxngster]

oooh writing questions!

1 Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic. 🌈

2 Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to? 🌈

7 Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it. 🌈

8 Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it. 🌈

11 Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby? 🌈

15 If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose? 🌈

hiii ty for asking! love the rainbows 🌈

1- definitely found family! i write these all the time, they’re so easy to come up with and never fail to warm my heart 🩷

2- omg i wanna try writing enemies to lovers one day! it feels like such a complex trope to come up with, i would make my characters fall in love way too easily haha

7- *digging through my unpublished google docs*

“And without even noticing it, we went from something’s missing to a family.”

this is actually a line that i’ve reused in a few of my fics about jorge adopting minho, i feel like it fits them so well in every universe. i cannot describe how important it is to me, how two broken characters learn how to heal and love themselves through the eyes of the family they never knew they were missing, the way they learn how to love someone in a way they never loved anyone before 🥹🥹➰➰➰

8- same context as question 7! unpublished tst AU, a pre-family conversation (don’t mind the english pls it was written a few years ago back when i was still a bilingual baby)

“What’s the role of a parent ?” Minho asked instead.

“Hm,” Jorge thought about it. “I’d say, guiding your children, taking care of them, protecting them from the danger around, comforting them, always being worried for them, whether they’re right here or miles away. Always watching them, even when they don’t know you are. Always making them your number one priority.” He paused, before his eyes widened. “Oh, and the most important thing : loving them unconditionally.”

Minho laughed. “It sounds like you when you’re around me.”

Jorge tilted his head. “Does it ?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Minho answered. “I mean, I don’t know if you love me, let alone unconditionally, but you guide me. Actually, you guide all of us through the mountains, but… it’s different when it’s just me.”

“How’s that ?”

“I don’t think you even notice,” Minho laughed. “During the day, even if we don’t talk, you look out for me ; you glance at me to make sure I’m still here, you quickly put your hand on my shoulder, you hand me a bottle when you see I’m thirsty, you smile at me when you see I’m tired and discouraged… You’re always with me, in a way or another.”

“Oh,” Jorge said. “Hah, you’re right, I’ve never noticed I was doing all of that. But I do know I’m worried about you ; I just didn’t know you could see it.”

“I can, and I appreciate it. A lot.”

i think i really love this dialogue because it reflects how they naturally click in a family dynamic! and ofc i love writing pre-family eheh

11- i don’t think i have any passions tbh (,,okay maybe tmr) so i’d say it’s a fun hobby!

15- definitely the one i’m writing now!! a teaser would be:

vince and jorge, age 45, meet in the library of a small town by the sea. 27 years ago, vince and jorge, age 18, meet in the high school of that same town by the sea. aka, how the past has to be unfolded to fix the present :)))

i would cry watching this movie

[summerwritesfics]

🗺️I’m Just A Teenage Dirtbag, Baby, Like You

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang Length: 2575 Words Rating: Mature Warnings: High School AU, Detention, Teenager!Hanzo Hasashi, Teenager!Kuai Liang, Teacher!Raiden, Past Character Death, Grief Mourning, Unfair Treatment, Straight A Student and School Delinquent Find An Understanding, First Meetings (Sorta? They’re both aware of the others existence, they’ve just never talked before.) AU-Gust 2024 Day 27: Younger/De-Aged

AU-Gust 2024 Masterlist

Notes: I don’t do high school AU’s too much. I had a horrible time in high school and I’m 10+ years away from that bullshit at this point. Butttt… Idk. Something about this prompt made me do one lol. Also, I’ll be honest, this is heavily based on a really old (and frankly badly written) fic I wrote for a fandom I’m no longer in. I kinda liked the general idea, so decided I wouldn’t waste it ;) Remember to reuse and recycle~ Title is from Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus.

Hanzo looked at the door, nervously eyeing up the word ‘detention’ embossed into the silver sign. He’d never been to detention in his life. Usually he was an A+ model student, well behaved, punctual and all the teachers loved him. Yet here he was. He knew he deserved this in some way, he’d let his temper get the best of him, and he had no one to blame for his actions but himself. There wasn’t much he could do now except accept his punishment with dignity.

He took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The teacher sitting at the desk inside was one he recognised very well. Mr. Raiden Narukami was the English Literature teacher, and one of the most beloved in the school. Mr. Narukami raised an eyebrow at Hanzo, obviously surprised to see someone usually so well behaved inside the room.

“Hanzo Hasashi. Well, I will admit I am quite surprised.” He held out a hand, and Hanzo realised he was expecting to receive the detention slip that Hanzo had been provided. Hanzo passed it over, and Mr. Narukami read through the slip, sighing and nodding along as he did. “Ah. Well, that is disappointing to read.” Hanzo didn’t reply, he just lowered his head. “Mr. Hasashi, I am awfully sorry for what you have been through lately, but you and I both know that is no excuse for that sort of behaviour.”

“I know,” Hanzo agreed, because he did know. Him not coping well with his current life events was no reason for him to do what he did. “My father will be getting me therapy as soon as possible, we’re just on the waiting list.”

Mr. Narukami sighed, “yes, I’m sadly aware how bad mental health services are right now. Hopefully it won’t be too long, and you can get the help you need, yes?”

“Yes Sir.” He was starting to lose hope on that, but maybe he shouldn’t.

“Either way, please take a seat Mr. Hasashi.”

Hanzo nodded and moved to sit down on a random seat. He was the only person in the room, and all his thoughts wandered to how his Father would react when he got home. Of course, he was already aware this had happened, they’d called his father in straight away. It was the only reason his punishment was as light as it was, the other kid’s parents agreeing on account of Hanzo’s current circumstances, even if it had taken far too much to persuade them to do so.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel like his Father would be disappointed in him, and that thought hurt. Even worse, if his Mother were here, what would she say?

He jumped out of his skin, broken from his thoughts as the door slammed open suddenly. Another boy walked into the room, short black hair with a large scar over one side of his face and lots of piercings all over. Hanzo recognised him as Song Kuai Liang, who was in the same year as him but they ran very different circles.

In fact, Kuai Liang didn’t really have a circle at all.

Kuai Liang was more or less everything Hanzo wasn’t. He didn’t do his work on time, he didn’t join clubs, he didn’t socialise and he tended to get terrible grades. While it wasn’t too surprising he was in detention, given he tended to get into trouble whenever possible, Hanzo still couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated by his presence.

“Hi Raiden, did you miss me?” Kuai Liang said with a massive grin on his face. Mr. Narukami looked exhausted for a second, but finally his lips curled into a fond smile.

“Of course I have. This room isn’t the same without you. So, what did you do this time?” He held out his hand like he had done to Hanzo, and Kuai Liang placed a rather scrappy looking detention note into it. Mr. Narukami looked at the piece of paper, looking utterly perplexed. “You… Ate an apple in class?” He questioned, watching as Kuai nodded. “Well. I have to admit, this is extremely tame for you. I’d say you’re losing your touch, Kuai Liang.”

“Well there’s nothing in the handbook that says we can’t eat in class,” Kuai Liang explained as he shrugged. “I need to keep my blood sugars up somehow. Not my fault the teacher took it as a challenge to her authority.”

Mr. Narukami stared flatly for a few seconds, before finally letting out a soft chuckle. “At this point, they’re just throwing you in here for every little thing, hm?”

“Or I’m finding reasons for them to send me here,” Kuai claimed, wearing a small grin. “You are my best friend, after all, Raiden.”

“Yes, all these years we’ve spent together, it is hard to not grow fond of someone,” he replied with a genuine affection in his voice. Huh, it seemed Mr. Narukami genuinely did like Kuai Liang for some reason. That explained why he got away with calling him Raiden as well. “You know the drill by now, go take a seat, Kuai Liang.”

Kuai Liang turned to approach the seats. Hanzo hoped that he’d choose any of the empty seats that weren’t beside him. His hopes were rudely squashed when Kuai Liang sat himself down at the desk right next to him. Hanzo cursed in his head, he didn’t really want to have to interact with him. Kuai Liang looked Hanzo up and down, wearing a confused look on his face.

“I don’t recognise you,” he muttered, tilting his head ever so slightly. “Is it your first time down here?”

“Yes,” Hanzo reluctantly replied, not really liking being the centre of attention.

“Mr. Hasashi is actually a well behaved student, unlike some people we can mention,” Mr. Narukami replied. It surprised Hanzo a fair bit, he didn’t think student’s were supposed to speak during detention, but Mr. Narukami didn’t seem that bothered.

“Hasashi?” Kuai Liang looked like he was thinking. “Wait, shit, aren’t you on your way to being valedictorian? What the fuck are youdoing here?”

“Language Kuai Liang,” Mr. Narukami warned, and Hanzo once again didn’t understand why he was allowing this.

“Sorry Raiden,” Kuai Liang called, waving lazily in his direction. “But, really. How does someone like you end up in detention?”

“I… I punched another student,” Hanzo admitted, looking in the opposite direction. He really didn’t want to talk about this, but it seemed Kuai Liang wasn’t going to let him be silent.

“Whoa, really? That’s so cool.” Of course the kid who got into trouble so often he was on a first name basis with the teacher who ran detention would think punching someone was cool. “Was it hard? Did you knock the guy out? Was there blood?”

“Kuai Liang,” Mr. Narukami interrupted, sounding exacerbated. “I’m sure Mr. Hasashi doesn’t want to answer all those questions. Not everyone is as thirsty for blood and violence as you are.”

“I’m not thirsty for blood and violence,” Kuai mumbled, sounding almost offended by it. “I just like knowing the details of the fights that happen around here.” Kuai Liang turned back to Hanzo and commented “at least it’s only for today, right?”

“Actually I’ll be here all week,” Hanzo muttered under his breath and he heard a small gasp from Kuai Liang.

“Did you straight up fucking kill the guy or something?”

“Language,” Mr. Narukami reminded him yet again, although this time he didn’t even bother looking up from the paperwork he was doing. Hanzo could only assume this was all such a common occurrence that he’d given up actually trying to punish Kuai Liang.

“No, but I mean, I’ve punched a lot of people,” Kuai claimed, crossing his arms over his chest. “And I’ve only gotten a day at most each time. What did you do to them?”

“I don’t know, it wasn’t that… bad,” Hanzo tried to justify, although Kuai Liang’s claim made him feel strange. How was it he was being punished harsher than a guy who claimed to have punched a lot of people? Hanzo supposed maybe it was that this was a compromised punishment, as the other kid’s parents had wanted him suspended at first.

“Well, either way, guess we’re detention buddies for the week.” Kuai Liang slouched back in his chair, stretching and yawning, before putting his feet up on the desk. “How’s it feel to know what you did is equally as bad as eating an apple?” He shook his head dramatically and scoffed. “The school rules are really just bullshit sometimes. Once I got in here because I disagreed with a teacher on something.”

“You’re missing out the part of the story where you dramatically ranted in precise detail about why he was wrong,” Mr. Narukami chimed up. “And you did call him some rather choice words.” He put his pen down and looked at Kuai with an amused smile. “I will grant that you had a point, but did you really have to call him a filthy bastard?”

“I only called him that because he called me stupid.” Kuai Liang pouted. “I know I’m a difficult kid, but I’m not stupid.”

“I know,” Mr Narukami softly assured him, smiling kindly at him. He looked like he was about to say something else, but before he could, there was a knock on the door and another teacher stepped inside, signalling for Mr. Narukami to follow him. “I’ll be back in a second. No talking.” He winked at them as he said that, positioned in a way the other teacher couldn’t see.

It didn’t take long for him to disappear, leaving Hanzo and Kuai Liang alone.

“You’re lucky to get Raiden for your first time in detention,” Kuai Liang stated almost as soon as the door had closed. “He’s pretty chill compared to others. I think he realises that people tend to get sent here for really dumb shit.” He turned back to look at Hanzo, pursing his lips. “But really, how hard did you hit that kid? Your punishment seems disproportionate to your crime.”

“It wasn’t even that hard,” Hanzo grumbled, because fucking hell, it really hadn’t been that bad. The kid didn’t even have a bruise, but he’d cried like Hanzo had broken his skull in half. “I just didn’t realise when I hit him, that his parents happen to contribute a lot to the school financially, so he basically gets away with murder.”

“Oh, yikes, that’d do it.” Kuai grimaced at him, baring his teeth slightly. “You’d have done better punching someone like me, to be fair.” He brushed his hair from his face as he said “actually, next time you feel like punching someone, I give you permission to find me and deck me. You probably won’t even get detention because they’ll put the blame on me.”

“I would rather there not be a next time… But I will keep that offer in mind, thank you.” It was one of the most bizarre things anyone had ever said to him, yet coming from Kuai Liang it was almost sweet.

“So, what did the guy do to make you punch him?” Kuai Liang asked, adjusting himself so his feet were back on the floor, and he was leaning forward onto the desk. “Because I can’t imagine someone like you would go straight to punching for no reason.”

“I just…” Hanzo stopped himself, grunting in frustration. He’d spent so long repressing his feelings, but obviously that wasn’t working. He hadn’t told his friends how he’d been feeling all these months, why would he tell a stranger like Kuai Liang? Even so, he sighed and admitted “over summer vacation, my mother passed away. The guy I punched was making fun of her death.”

“What a fucking bastard,” Kuai bluntly exclaimed and Hanzo couldn’t help a bit of a spluttering laugh. Kuai sounded so angry on his behalf. Strange, how even the kid who was known for getting into trouble seemed to understand that was a line to not be crossed. “I’m sorry to hear about your mom though. My Mama passed away when I was little, so I know how you feel.”

“You do?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“No need to sound so surprised. I’m an asshole, but I have feelings, y’know?” Kuai laughed slightly, but did look solemnly. “People don’t get it until it happens to them. It’s like a source of warmth is extinguished, and all that’s left is cold.”

Huh. It does feel a bit like that, doesn’t it?

“You have quite the way with words,” Hanzo commented, because given Kuai Liang’s grades, it wasn’t something he’d expected.

Kuai snorted and said “yeah, despite my fearsome reputation, I actually kind of like reading.”

“Huh.” He remembered the previous conversation with Mr. Narukami, and when Kuai claimed he didn’t like being called stupid. Maybe his grades weren’t an indication of his intelligence. There was clearly, at the very least, an emotional intelligence most of their peers did not possess. “How come you’re always here anyway? Kind of feels like if you put your mind to it, you could be valedictorian yourself.”

“I’m the kid of a crime boss,” he casually replied, shrugging like that was a completely normal thing to say. “I was already being treated like I was trouble even when I was behaving. So what’s the point of seeking validation that’s never going to come?”

Hanzo wasn’t sure about the first bit, that sort of thing seemed far fetched and would only happen in the movies. The second bit however? How sad he sounded when he said it? That was definitely the truth. It actually made Hanzo feel bad for judging him harshly himself.

“I mean for fucks sake, I have detention for a week for eating an apple,” Kuai half exclaimed in a mix of a laugh and a sob. “But kids like the one you punched can get away with being the actual devil all because mommy and daddy can pay their way out of trouble.”

“You have a point, about the school rules being bullshit,” Hanzo agreed, because now that he thought about it. Yeah. This all seemed disproportionate. The kid he punched had been bullying him, surely, and yet the system protected him.

It all just seems… Unfair.

“Welcome to my world,” Kuai said sadly. “At least Raiden seems to know this is all bullshit.”

Before Hanzo could say any more, the door flung open and Mr. Narukami walked back in, looking perplexed by something. He stood at the front of the room, staring down at his hands.

“Kuai Liang, can I ask you a question?” Mr. Narukami asked.

“Uh, depends what it is?” Kuai’s expression relaxed, and it just made how sad he’d been previously seem so much more obvious.

“Do I speak in riddles?” Mr. Narukami tilted his head to one side. “Because apparently there’s been complaints.”

“Eh, there is a reason you have been nicknamed ‘the sphinx’ I suppose.” That wasn’t true, and Hanzo could tell from the grin on his face that Kuai Liang was just teasing.

“What? No! I haven't? Have I?”

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard that too,” Hanzo innocently added, feeling a flutter in his chest at the delighted smile Kuai Liang gave him.

Maybe this was going to be a long week, but he felt a little better knowing he had an ally for it at least.

[veliseraptor]

wip titles meme

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

i was tagged by @odetoviscera and I know i have a lot of other asks sitting as yet unanswered in my inbox from other memes but

doing this only for wips that are like. for fandoms i'm actively in. so not mcu stuff for instance

kinnporsche

all's fair

five of swords

post canon vegaspete long(er) fic

pyrexia

reduce, reuse, recycle

the devil drives

undercut

the untamed/mdzs

caged

demonic cultivator team up

entanglement

fall apart, destroy, release

how rare and beautiful

life after death

meng yao xue yang h/c fic

redux

strangers once united

something about the number three

the cycle comes back to the start

the poison in your bones

through thistles and thorns

to beat a drowning dog

walking far from home

xiao xingchen + concussion

xuexiao hanahaki au

doctrine of labyrinths

in another end, in another life

let the foxes fight

pygmalion

worth the price

dragon age

salvage

the best all lack conviction

lymond chronicles

et ipsi sunt jacula

haec olim meminisse iuvabit

other fandom

the second coming

under pressure

time for all the works and days of hands

the interim

immortality

original fic

ex-villain project

tavrin and corinna story

if i tagged enough people for every wip on this list it would probably be every one of my mutuals. so to tag a few at least: @feralkwe, @fatalism-and-villainy, @ameliarating, @mikkeneko, and @curiosity-killed. original fic counts if you want it to.

[deedjre]

oc-tober day 2: new character !! yippee. pretty ironic to be reusing art on this day specifically but i digress. this is my oc john. name picked specifically for how normal it is. his full name is john rider (no middle name but if he had one it'd be thomas bc that'd be really funny to his british friend). John's initial idea was conceived around may of 2023, i believe? as he originates as a non original character from an au. he, in this form, was actually created closer to december of 2023. oh shit he's almost a year old. anyway even funnier is that i have two versions of him pulled from two aus of the same thing. i could've made a different guy for the second one but he would've been a very similar guy. same goes for colin (his british friend/roommates/lover. his head is also in this ref) but i'd like to think colin's been around for longer. since he got his name first lmao

(prompt list) (more on john below. sensitive topics related to addiction prevail)

this ref is the same continuity of john and very hard for me to look at due to the white bg. a bit on john is that he has been wearing the same navy colored hoodie (based on a hoodie that i have, actually, though the one i have has anime girl on the back) since highschool. this is because that's funny to me and also it's his comfort item and i personally have a hard time letting go of items i like. he also was given a scarf that i have. this is because i don't know how to design clothing. i'll get into like personality and other shit in a bit

this is the other version of john (from the 60s rather than modern day btw) that focuses a LOT more on his personal struggles. as you can see here, he has a mullet /j that's not what's wrong with him. he smoked during highschool, got throat cancer, got a total laryngectomy (surgical removal of the larynx/voice box) and then got TEP surgery for one of three reasons. reason 1 (meta) i needed him to be able to talk over the phone and to people who don't know ASL. reason #2 he thought he needed to be able to do that. reason #3 parent executive decision. this goes for both timelines though in the modern one i retained it mostly for flavor. here, though, it's uhm yeah it's for the same reason but he's a lot more insecure about it. in both versions he is an anxious, depressed, autistic mess of a man with a stutter. basically the developmental stutter stuck and it was getting better but then he got throat cancer and the trauma at least made it 10x worse and he couldn't be bothered with speech therapy. his voice is also raspy because i can't think of a reason why it wouldn't be. i also like to discolor his fingernails bc of the smoking habits. in the 60s version he has gum with him that he chews on to try and like. satiated the urge to smoke. i don't think nicotine gm was invented YET so it's probably just like regular gum. might take lemon candies as well. i focus more on his alcoholism in the modern version bc in the modern version he basically just replaced one addiction with another.

oh and in the modern version the part of the timeline i'm focusing on is completely different and i didn't even get started on his full backstory. but in the modern version post apartment era (2011-2017) he moved to somewhere else and got a small home with his new beard (she's there to get his parents off his back and also bc she's his bestie from the 60s version and i like her). then he went bankrupt after some time and was homeless for a year or two before ringing up his old roomie colin. anyway that's why he's noted as being underweight in one of the refs. his clothes are very baggy on him and he wears a men's size small.

anyway i could go on nd on for WAY too long about him. i did a lot of research. his salary in the 60's is 5k as a data entry specialist, now data management (which is a new job for the time). and in modern day, he gets the same job bc all his college money was used on surgery. i didn't do the math on that one specifically but it felt about right. my therapist is like "wow you do a lot of research on your characters" and the answer is no not usually it's just these two (second guy being colin btw).