#jace picK A FUCKING NAME ALREADY

[wannaeatramyeon]

Your Adventures as the Lookismverse Designer

G/N. Run-ins with Burn Knuckles, Goddog, Allied and Big Deal. Masterlists

Being in the Fashion department, you had assumed your classmates had a passion for fashion. For god's sake, it's in the name.

But no, you're wrong.

Apart from using it as an excuse to wear designer brands from head to toe, no one really gave a shit.

No one cared about the history, about design, fabrication, construction.

No one... apart from you that is.

.

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Your first client wasn't really someone you could say no to unless you had a death wish.

When the whole of the Architecture department shows up along with Vasco, their terrifying leader, you consider running off and screaming.

It was only Jace Park, who seemed to understand a more subtle approach and how intimidating they looked, that stopped you from wanting to flee to the teacher.

(Strange. You actually don't recall seeing your teacher for months.)

"Please," Jace murmurs to Vasco and he's practically begging. "You didn't need to turn up with everyone. Just leave this to me. Please."

If you didn't know better, you would think Vasco was giving him grateful puppy eyes. But that can't be right. He's a thug.

"Sorry," Jace turns to you, looking contrite and fiddling anxiously with his big ears when you're finally on your own. "Are you the Fashion Designer?"

It should have been a stupid question, considering you're in the Fashion Department.

Except you look around at the so-called boxer who pitifully simps after the brunette all day, the rich blonde kid who never talks to anyone, the other girl who is an aspiring streamer and you sigh to yourself.

"Yes, that's me."

.

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All things considered, the Burn Knuckles are very easy to please.

It's a design printed on some pre-made boilersuits, not exactly avant garde.

You did touch up the logo though and provided some more clothing options than requested. Boilersuits in a small selection of colours, bomber and leather jackets.

When you hand over the boxes to Vasco and Jace, the latter shakes your hand and the former stares at you with tears in his eyes and asks how they can ever repay you.

You shrug. Because he did already pay you for your time and the materials.

"Don't worry about it." You say, giving him a polite grin.

Vasco beams and you think maybe this guy isn't so scary.

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Somehow your reputation precedes you.

To be honest you didn't even realise you had any sort of reputation until a guy with a messy mop head and two dogs corners you in an alleyway.

"I heard you're the Designer," he grunts.

A part of you thinks of fleeing once again. A smaller part of you thinks damn, that nickname is kinda cool.

"I am?"

"Don't play dumb. I know who you are."

You would have found him rude and menacing if not for his dogs picking that exact moment to roll around on the floor belly-up, desperately wanting some attention.

"Fuck's sake," he mutters though he squats down anyway to pat them. "So?" he continues, trying to regain his previous threatening aura even as the pups wriggle around under his touch.

"So what?"  you ask, not able to stop the smile creeping over your face at this adorable sight.

"I need some clothing."

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.

Perhaps the Burn Knuckles gave you a false sense of bravado, thinking everyone would be as easy as them. Unfortunately, this guy is a goddamn headache.

He wants hoodies, which isn't an issue but he wants matching dog-sized ones and he wants you to design the logo from scratch too.

"But I don't do graphic design," you cry and he pretends he can't hear you.

On your twelfth iteration, he doesn't glare at it and praise the heavens; he's finally happy.

Well, happy is an overstatement. He doesn't exactly look happy but he's no longer glaring at you, so you assume in Johan Seong's world, that means he's exhilarated.

The hoodies fit, both Johan and the dogs, and the logo looks good too.

You wave goodbye to the back of all three. Your bank balance is healthier except you hope they never darken your doorstep again.

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.

(You have no such luck. He returns, months later, requesting tracksuits.)

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It's a sorry state of affairs when three of the members of Allied are part of the Fashion Department, and come to you asking for help.

"Why don't you design it yourself?" you ask Daniel Park, Zack Lee and Jay Hong.

They look at you like you've grown two heads.

.

.

You will be eternally grateful that Jay Hong is mute, that Vasco is actually the sweetest cinnamon roll, and Daniel Park is pretty easy-going because having Vin Jin and Zack Lee constantly bickering and criticising your design is bad enough.

Apparently these men are very adept fighters. Caught up in some gang shit. It didn't matter. You still wanted to ram your pen through their skulls.

Then throw in someone else called Hudson Ahn who also seems to like giving rude, overly critical comments concealed as constructive criticism -

You threatened to quit more than once.

.

.

Eventually, after staying awake for 46 hours - you all agree on a logo.

"Here." You thrust the USB drive with the files at Daniel Park.

"What do I do with this?"

"You're in the Fashion Department too." You rub at your tired eyes, patience long gone with these morons. "Find a clothing printer yourself. Search for it on the internet. You know what that is right? The internet?"

Somewhere to your right, Vin Jin bursts into laughter.

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.

.

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You can't decide if this guy is trying to sell you something or if you're actually falling in love with him by the second.

Hell, he could sell you some snake-oil and you're so charmed you don't mind.

"So, you'll do it?" he asks, holding your hands in his larger gloved ones and you feel yourself simpering like an idiot at the contact.

"Sure thing, Mr. Kim."

"Jake," he says, giving you a toothy grin. "I'm Jake. And this is Jerry."

"Who?"

"Jerry Kwon," A large hulking man steps up besides Jake, offering you a handshake.

What? How did you miss him? You didn't notice him at all.

"Oh. Uh. Of course. Nice to meet you too Jerry."

"Come here, guys." Jake signals for the other men hanging back to come forth. "Ths is Brad and Jerry and Lineman."

Shit. Damnit, you've been so fixated on Jake Kim that you ignored everyone else.

Hell. You didn't even realise there was anyone else.

"Hi," you say, wanting the ground to swallow you up and blushing furiously.

Jake catches your eye and gives you a wink.

.

.

Being completely honest, the Big Deal tracksuits aren't your best work.

You're not too sure on the logo design (though hey - that's not really your handiwork). The placement is a little awkward and the design is sort of plain.

You added gold elements to at least make it a bit more cohesive, and sourced extra durable fabrics with lots of movement as apparently the guys have a tendency to damage clothing during fights.

"What do you think?" Jake says, modelling your finalised version.

From the smile on his face, you could tell he's very much satisfied with your work.

"Looks great," you say and you're telling the truth. Although it's not really the tracksuit that looks great, but the man wearing it. His broad shoulders and tight waist, long muscular legs and-

Oops. You silently apologise for objectifying him.

The way your eyes rake over his form isn't subtle, though it's definitely flattering. Jake playfully throws another wink your way.

[callahanisms]

b tier

honestly, only i can be watching a b horror movie about killer bees and go "i should write something for patrick with this in the background."

character: patrick zweig

context: uhhh...let's say late 2018/early 2019

being a publicist was exhausting.

not that you didn't like your job. no, you loved it. it was just that working for tashi duncan and art donaldson could be very tiring. there were a lot of things you had to do and organize especially for the foundation.

they were your friends, from way back in stanford. you would've froze hell over to make what they wanted happen.

but gradually, you've been worn down.

a series of bad relationships, namely. how many girls and guys and people you've dated who, in the end, just wanted to get closer to the tashi duncan, the art donaldson. the power couple.

the worst one was probably patrick zweig.

you didn't know if he actually liked you or if he just wanted you so he could somehow get in proximity to art and tashi.

or maybe he was trying to satiate his desire for both. after all, you had brief relationships with both tashi and art back in college. perhaps he only wanted you because tashi and art lingered on you. almost literally in a sense because they signed off your checks and you were lily's godparent.

you were very surprised when there was a knock on your door and you look at the time on your clock. 11:30pm. who was knocking on your door this late?

it certainly wasn't tashi or art. especially art. he's usually in bed by this time.

you don't bother to pause your movie. you've seen it millions of times before. you walk over to the front door of your apartment and peer into the peep hole.

"what the...!"

you unlock the deadbolt, but keep the chain lock in place, and open the door. "what the fuck do you want."

"good to see you too." patrick's got that smug grin on his face. but he looks worse for wear. his clothes are disheveled. there are dark circles beneath his eyes. he doesn't have that bright glow to his face. or at least, the last time you saw him.

"how did you get my address?"

"google."

"that's not very funny patrick."

"okay, okay." he puts his hands up in defense. you notice his bags on the ground behind him. "a friend of yours. jace?"

"jace? oh jace you!" you'd curse out your friend later. in all fairness, you never told jace about patrick. in fact, you didn't really talk about your love life with your friends. you kept it under wraps, especially since it's gone poorly.

"what do you want?" you already knew. but you wanted to hear it from his mouth.

"well...i'm in town. i thought we could reconnect." you notice that he's picking at his fingers. similar to how art did. even in adulthood after they were separated, they still mirrored each other's movements, had each other's habits.

"fuck off patrick. i'm not interested in being your mutual connection." you're ready to close the door.

"wait, wait!" he takes half a step forward, putting his hand on your door. he looks at you, his eyes soft. pleading.

patrick contemplates if he should just get on his knees and beg. he glances away for a second, taking in the clean look of the apartment building you lived in. his tongue licks his bottom lip and he rubs his face with his hand.

"i...i need a place to stay."

"look for some rando on tinder then."

"please. (y/n)." his voice is soft.

you hated that you had a soft spot for patrick zweig.

as much as you didn't like him, you missed the electricity of his kiss, his brash behavior, and the softness of his aftercare. he was surprisingly very good at it.

you also weren't one to turn someone away if they needed care.

patrick takes a step back when you close the door. but he hears you moving the chain lock and the door fully opens. "get inside."

"you're a lifesaver." he grabs his bags and steps into your apartment, removing his shoes as to not track dirt further into your home.

you lock the door once again. "you look like garbage. go take a shower."

patrick didn't like doing what he was told. but this was your home. "alright."

"and when was the last time you ate?" he takes too long to respond. "just shower."

"alright, alright."

when patrick emerges from the shower, he finds a pair of silk pajamas folded neatly in your bedroom. he makes sure he's completely dry and moisturized before putting on his underwear and the pajamas.

he walks out of the bedroom and his eyes first go to the tv. he lets out a small laugh seeing a slug bite a man. the movie quality was clearly bad.

and then there you are in the kitchen, making pancakes and a strawberry sauce to go with it. as well as two mugs with steam coming out of them.

"a homecooked meal? how generous."

"shut up. i was getting hungry." it was cute when you tried to brush him off.

he walks over and picks up the box. "trader joe's strawberries and creme pancake and waffle mix. with sweetened dried strawberry and white chocolatey chips." he sets the box down.

"it's pretty good, actually." you hand him one of the mugs. he takes in and breathes in the smell. it's lemony and sweet. "hope some citron tea is good with you."

"it's perfect, actually." he leans against the counter, taking a careful sip. "so what are you watching?"

"slugs. it's a movie from 1988."

"you've always liked bad horror movies."

"well...seems i have a taste for...b tier things."

"what's that supposed to mean?" he looks at you, watching the way you work.

"i don't think you need me to spell it out." you flip the pancake with ease before turning off the stove.

"think you've been spending too much time up art's ass."

"well if i wasn't up art's ass, then you wouldn't be here, would you? you'd probably be sleeping in your car right now. or crashing at some poor tinder date's place." you pour the sauce into a separate bowl.

he couldn't deny that. art and tashi put food on your table, a roof over your head, paid for your bills. you had no choice but to be up their asses.

the two of you eat in silence. patrick wants to say something, but your attention is more focused on the movie. somehow you're able to eat while watching two teenagers get eaten alive by slugs. complete with ooey gooey 80s special effects.

he does his best to help you clean up, but you swat his hand away when he tries. so he settles for just watching you clean up. you were always territorial in the kitchen, preferring to do things a certain way and keep things in a specific order. he could see just why you got along well with tashi and art. your discipline matched theirs.

and he had no discipline.

when you're done, you wash your hands then place the pod in the little compartment in the dishwasher, making sure it was closed all the way. you close the dishwasher and turned the dial to the second setting, hearing it lock into place.

"you'll be sleeping on the couch. i'll set things up after the movie is done." you say, walking over and sitting back down. you grab your blanket and lay it over your lap and legs.

patrick looks at how cozy you are. and for a second, he thinks about just how cozy life with you could be. money, cooked meals, a warm bed. a publicist that can get him back on track to greatness.

he sits down on the couch, leaning back into the cushions. he's close to you. you have no doubt that he sat there on purpose.

"so what is this movie even about?"

"slugs eating people, duh." your eyes don't leave the tv screen.

patrick notices the way you slightly lean forward during the scene. the man is eating dinner and he's got a raging headache. he manages to stop his nose from bleeding in the bathroom. then when he takes a sip of his drink, his nose bleeds again into the drink. he cries out, holding his head. and then his eyes pop. blood splatters everywhere. thin worms emerge and wriggle around from his socket. his body falls to the ground.

"i love this scene so much."

"really? i couldn't tell." he says sarcastically.

"it's a good scene." you lean back. "not that you would know. you have terrible taste in movies."

"hey, hey. do not insult my taste in movies. you're the one watching b tier horror movies. and you're the one who has a taste for the shittier things in life."

"yeah? like you."

patrick leans forward, nearly pressing you against the couch cushions. "that's not what i interpreted last time."

"last time was a moment of weakness." you look at him. "i was craving something fast and easy. that's what you are patrick. fast food."

his lips curl into a smirk.

was he getting off to that?

"and you can't help but come back for more~"

your eyes glance down at his lips. and even in baggy silk pajamas, he looked good.

unfortunately, patrick zweig was hot.

"go fuck yourself." you cup his face with both of your hands and slam your lips on his.

patrick kisses back with just as much fervor, gripping onto your waist and pulling you on top of him. he lays down on the couch, groaning when he feels you grind your crotch against his. "fuck!" he groans. you always knew how to turn him on.

your fingers trail down to start unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his chest. your hands feel his muscles. "i hate that you're so fucking hot." you groan as you roughly kiss down his neck and to his chest.

"yeah, yeah. you can't stand me. and yet." patrick's hands go to your ass and he digs his fingers into the plush skin. hard. you can't help but let out a moan at the sensation, shivers of pleasure running up your spine.

he turns his head to give you more access, his eyes landing on the tv. "you mind if we...uh, pause? or something?"

"what? don't wanna watch slugs eat people while we fuck? we've arguably had worse movies on in the background." your tongue darts out, gliding along the skin of his collarbone. patrick shivers beneath you.

"(y/n), please." he moans. "don't make me beg."

"what if i want to make you beg?" your hand trails down, rubbing him through his pants and boxers. he gasps, mouth wide open. "you're always so cute when you beg."

"s-shit! (y/n)!" he moans.

he moans so cutely that you can't help yourself.

"alright. fine." you grab the remote and pause the movie, tossing it back onto the coffee table. "now where were we?"

[humanpurposes]

My Heart Belongs to Daddy, part vii (final)

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // this godforsaken mess that you made me

modern!Aemond x step-daughter

Warnings: 18+, angst, smut

Words: 9k

A/n: Sorry it's been a month since I updated this but we made it to the end!! Just wanna say thank you to everyone who's followed along, liked, commented on and reblogged this series, I've been so overwhelmed by the amazing responses to this, just all the love 🖤 Also available to read on AO3.

It’s easy to forget just how fucking freezing King’s Landing can be in December. She pulls her leather jacket a little tighter around herself but there’s not much she can do about the cold stabbing at her legs through her fishnets— why the fuck had she worn a mini dress in the first place? It falls a little higher up her thighs than she wants it to and the bust just doesn’t fit quite right, but she supposes she has to commit now. She at least counts herself lucky that it’s not snowing.

She looks down at the pavement as it moves underneath her black boots. There’s her second mistake— one cocktail past her usual limit. Now she feels aware but somehow numb. She finds wonder in everything around her, the glare of colourful lights on the outside of the bars they rush past, the pulsing of music from every direction, the smells of smoke, vapes, and that distinct, sharp scent of winter.

She had met Baela, Rhaena, Jace and their friends at a pub near the train station. Being the last to arrive, she sat at the edge of the table. It wasn’t a big group but that only made her more nervous. The other girls introduced themselves as Coryanne, Jeyne, Jess and Floris, all beautiful, all dressed immaculately. She told them her name and they said a unanimous “hi!” but other than that it was hard to talk to them while they gossiped about people she didn’t know and reminisced memories she had no part in. Even Jace was distracted; he was clearly all over Coryanne and spent the entire evening trying too hard to make her laugh.

So she kept ordering cocktails, a different one each time, downing them in quick succession and waiting for the evening to pass.

She keeps telling herself this was a good idea. She needs the distraction, anything to get her mind off the obvious.

The others are all walking ahead of her, and she has to keep sight of them because she has no idea where Dracarys actually is. Baela keeps looking over her shoulder every so often, to check on her she assumes. She gives her a nod and a polite smile, but when Baela turns around, her face falls back to a comfortable frown. She doesn’t mean to look miserable, but she can’t help it. It must be so obvious that she doesn’t belong with these people. She’s just a stray they’ve picked up out of pity.

They turn a corner and suddenly half the street is taken up with a queue of impatient looking people, all in smart shirts and party dresses. Baela calls her name and grabs her hand, pulling her along after the rest of their group.

“Surely this isn’t the line for Dracarys?” she says.

Baela chuckles and keeps marching ahead.

They walk along the queue for a good few minutes. Suddenly they reach an old building with columns and a bell tower. It looks like it could be a Sept or a museum, until she registers the glaring red lights, the tall braziers marking either side of the entrance and the neon logo of a dragon against a blue flame.

Apparently tagging along with not one but two Targaryens has its benefits. Baela keeps her close and their whole group breezes past the bouncers without being asked for ID or charged for entry.

“Dad’s a co-owner,” Baela says in her ear as they walk towards the front steps. She can already feel the bass of the music rattling in her chest.

There’s a smoking area at the bottom of the steps, cornered off from the street by tall hedges and iron gates. It’s dotted with mostly pairs of people, each engrossed in their own conversations.

As Baela leads her up the steps she notices a solitary figure, obscured by shadows, leaning against the wall with his back slightly curved and his chin tilted down. He lights a cigarette. The flicker of flame lights up the sharp features of his face and his silver hair.

Fuck.

Aemond’s not even a club kind of guy. He hates the dancing and the “shitty” music. He likes metal concerts and late-night conversations, preferably somewhere you can actually hear the person next to you.

A plume of smoke billows from his lips, and for whatever reason, he glances towards the front steps.

After a double take, his eyes meet hers, wide and curious.

She only realises she’s stopped walking when Baela tugs on her hand. “You coming or what?” she says over her shoulder, trying to keep up with the others.

She can’t take her eyes off him. Of all the places he could have spent New Years, why does he have to be here?

Don’t engage.

His back straightens as he takes his weight off the wall.

Let go.

She shakes her head and snaps herself out of whatever trance she’s under.

She’ll just ignore him. As long as she sticks with Balea and Jace, everything will work out fine. Surely.

The inside of the club is vast like the nave of the Grand Sept. It has a high vaulted ceiling and an enormous stained-glass window on the farthest wall from the doors.

The floor before them is a sea of bodies in flashy outfits, moving in time to a low, synthy song. Colourful lights cut through the darkness, giving the faces an eerie glow. A few groups linger around the edges of the room, drinking cocktails and taking shots in booths around glass tables. At the end of the hall, under the stained-glass window, is the bar, illuminated with red lights.

Baela keeps a tight hold of her hand as they all fight their way to the bar. Someone orders for her and the bartender places a shot glass of vibrant blue liquor in front of her. Rhaena screams “Happy New Year!” as the others cheers their glasses together.

She holds her up to the light before she downs it, wincing at the sickly, sweet and sour tang it leaves on her tongue.

Her heart thunders in her chest, confused by the music and the sense of dread pooling in her stomach.

Aemond is here.

She’s supposed to be ignoring him, and she had been doing a good job of it so far.

Until that fucking call on Christmas Eve.

What did he think was going to happen? Six months of nothing, then one phone call and she was going to come running back to him?  

But she had already proved that she can’t say no to him, the night of the dinner party, while Alys and Cregan were only in adjacent rooms. All it had taken was his hands on her hips, his breath on her neck, a few harshly whispered words and the promise of a quick fuck. It was enough for her to give in, consequences be damned.

She looks back at doors on the other side of the room. She tells herself she’s not looking for a head of silver hair, but it isn’t much good lying to herself. One look at him outside a club and she can feel that hollow feeling in her chest, an emptiness that Aemond has always been able to fill so perfectly.

“How could I ever stop wanting you?”

“I just know these last couple of months have been fucking unbearable without you.”

Would he say the same now?

Rhaena screams again. She doesn’t catch what she says, but the answer to that is evident when Aegon and Daeron materialise from the crowd, hugging Rhaena, Baela and some of the girls. Jace’s face hardens and he puts his arm around Coryanne’s shoulders.

Then Aegon’s eyes come to her. “Fancy seeing you here!” she shouts into her ear over the music.

She can’t stop herself. “Is Aemond with you?” 

Aegon glances towards the door. “He went outside for a fag.” He runs his tongue over his teeth and furrows his brow. “How are things with you and your mum?”

She frowns. “Why?”

Aegon’s eyes widen and he laughs to himself to play it off. “Just asking, I thought things might be a bit awkward what with… everything that’s gone on.”

“Everything?”

He pauses. “Him and Alys.”

“Right,” she says.

He doesn’t say anything else, but he’s looking at her like he’s trying to read her mind.

She hates not knowing what other people are thinking, and it only adds to her growing restlessness. Aemond wouldn’t tell Aegon about them, would he? But part of her thinks Aegon would use the opportunity to be more of a dick about it if he knew.

They find a booth and file in. Jace is clearly trying to avoid Aegon; he sits between Coryanne and Daeron. Baela is polite with both of her cousins and Rhaena is friendly, but maybe that’s just the booze. Either way, Aegon is a charmer, and slots himself nicely beside Floris. Jenye and Jess are all over each other, whispers into each other’s ears becoming kisses to their cheeks, necks and mouths.

She slips off her jacket and sits at the end of the table, alone. It's like being at the pub all over again.

Until she spots someone walking towards their table.

Aemond stops, his eyes only on her. No one else seems to have noticed him yet.

She looks across the table, at the only empty space left.

His chest rises and his nostrils flare. He slowly sits opposite her, keeping his shoulders tense and his hands in fists.

She wishes she had a drink in front of her, if only to have something to do. She moves between having her hands on and under the table, unable to keep her fingers still. She bounces her leg, messes with her hair, tries to focus on fragments of conversation drifting from the others.

Then something brushes against her, under the table. She freezes, but relaxes as she feels Aemond’s leg settling against hers. She glances across at him while pretending to listen to something Rhaena’s talking about. Aemond holds her gaze, leaning against the back of the booth with a solemn look on his face.

She can feel his breath on her hands as he exhales a deep breath.

Baela insists that she wants to dance, and so does Rhaena. They drag Daeron with them and disappear into the mass of dancers. Aemond has to stand to let them out, and when he sits back down his leg brushes against hers again.

It’s so painfully obvious that everyone at the table is coupled up, Jace and Coryanne, Aegon and Floris, Jeyne and Jess. Aemond seems to be trying not to pay attention to any of them. He angles his head in the other direction.

She lets her eyes wander along the tightness of his jaw, the tendons in his neck, and the glint of a silver chain beneath his shirt.

She presses her lips together.

Don’t engage.

Don’t do anything stupid.

But maybe she should have thought of that before the cocktails.

She leans forward on her elbows, but as she opens her mouth to speak, Aemond calls Aegon’s name.

“Drink?” he mimes.

She doesn’t see Aegon’s reply. Aemond’s eyes move over her before he stands and heads towards the bar. Suddenly her leg feels cold at the absence.

A particularly loud giggle catches her attention. She looks down the table. Aegon is leaning into Floris’ ear with a dark look in his eye and she’s smiling, but he’s watching her. His eyes flicker over to the bar, and he grins.

Fucking pricks. The pair of them.

Only when she stands up does she realise how dizzy she is, but she ignores it, and makes her way through the crowd until she finds Baela, Rhaena and Daeron. She grabs Baela’s hands, less dancing, more stepping and swaying to the music.

But she keeps ending up turning her head towards the bar. It’s easy to spot Aemond, he towers over most of the people here, his silver hair gleaming under the red lights.

“I didn’t know they were going to be here,” Baela shouts into her ear, “it’s not too awkward is it?”

The music doesn’t make sense to her. It’s just noise. Everything is just frantic noise, and she can’t stand it. She feels restless, and so fucking angry. She wants to dig her nails into her palms. She wants to cry. She wants to scream.

“It’s fine!” she shouts back, “So fucking fine!”

She looks back to the bar. Aemond is at the front of the queue now.

“I need a drink,” she says, not loud enough for Baela to hear.

His name is a gentle hum in her throat as she gets closer to him, weaving her way through the other bodies in the crowd. She doesn’t care when they tell her to get in line and wait her turn. She keeps her eyes fixed on him.

Until he’s close enough to touch.

She watches her hand reach for his shoulder.

He turns his head around with a sharp look of surprise, but it melts away when he realises it’s her.

He mouths her name but she doesn’t hear it. He brushes his fingertips against the bare skin of her arm and she feels weightless. He’s looking at her. She can feel his heat through his shirt.

Until he withdraws his hand with an irritated huff. He leans into her until their noses are inches apart. Even in the low light of the club his eyes are only marginally blue, and she smells whisky on his breath. “Don’t start this again,” he says over the music.

She scowls until her face hurts. “You called me.”

“And you didn’t pick up.”

Her heart shatters. She thought she had done the right thing, but it seems a common occurrence with Aemond that nothing is ever right.

“It was a mistake,” he says sharply, “a stupid fucking mistake. Just forget it.”

He brushes her hand from his shoulder and storms off towards the front doors.

Panic and confusion courses through her. It feels worse because she’s drunk, she knows that, but it still hurts.

Her eyes start to sting as one song ends and another begins. It’s one everyone in the room seems to recognise.

She fights her way back to the booth and grabs her jacket, slipping it over her arms.

Jeyene and Jess are gone, and Jace and Coryanne have found their way to the dancefloor. Floris and Aegon are the only ones left, her legs draped over his lap.

“Leaving so soon?” Aegon coos.

She doesn’t spare him any of her attention. She tries to spot Aemond as she makes her way to the doors on unsure legs.

What if he’s already left? What if this is it, and he never so much as tries to speak to her again? What if she finds him and he pushes her away?

“Five minutes to midnight, ladies and gentlemen!” a voice booms through the speakers. Moving through the room is like swimming against the current as more people make their way to the dance floor, but she manages to make it to the doors.

The cold air hits her suddenly. It burns in her lungs and bites at her skin. The front steps and the street below her are quiet now, and so is the smoking area. Save for one person.

Aemond sits on a bench, hunched over himself, flicking his lighter, but never lighting a cigarette.

He looks up when she stops in front of him, his lips slightly parted, the red lights casting shadows in the angles of his chin and cheeks, and his nose.

“Are you seriously running away from me?” she says.

His mouth is in a thin line. He keeps flicking the lighter open and shut, open and shut. “You seemed happy enough avoiding me before.”

“Before? Before what? Before you left me in a hotel room?”

Aemond groans and rubs his fingers over his temple. “I’m not sober enough to have this conversation.”

“No, you’d rather ignore me for the rest of your life.”

“Look, I just want to go about doing things the right way—”

“I think we’re way fucking past that now.”

He groans. “What do you want me to do then?” he says, his voice laced with spite.

“Take some fucking responsibility!” she cries, louder than she means to.

He takes her off guard when he stands and steps into her. She takes a step back, and he keeps walking, until her back meets a wall. “And what does responsibility look like, hmm?” He places a hand beside her head leans in further still, until all she sees is the furious look in his eyes. “I called and you didn’t pick up. I try to keep my distance and look at you, you’re still practically begging for my attention.”

“Once,” she utters. “You called me once in six months.”

“And if I had tried before, after the dinner, after I left Alys, would you have listened to me?”

Her head lolls into her shoulder. All she remembers of that day is her mum, screaming and crying, storming upstairs and slamming her bedroom door. She stood there, in the kitchen, hands shaking, tears streaming down her face and her heartbeat pulsing in her head.

Her entire world had come crumbling down. Her mother hated her, and she was going to have to break things off with Cregan, and Aemond was gone. If he had called her then, she doesn’t know if she would have been able to manage a single word.

“No,” she says.

Her heart leaps as he takes her chin in his fingertips and tilts her gaze up to him.

He looks down at her with challenge, his eyes squinted slightly, lips in a smug pout. “What do you want me to do? How do I make this right?”

Her hands press against his chest, hypnotised as it rises and falls with each breath he takes. Then her eyes move to his mouth, that perfecting fucking mouth— it’s her favourite feature of his, she decides, the telling twitches of his lips and the way they feel against her skin.

Aemond clamps his hands over her wrists. “See?” he says in a low voice. “You think you’re so righteous, so perfect, but you’re just too fucking needy.”

She surges into him, grazing his lips with hers before he pulls away.

He keeps a tight grip on her wrists, and stares at her with wide eyes.

Only for him to come crashing into her, returning the favour with his own harsh and bruising kiss. He’s desperate and unforgiving, cupping her face with his hands so she has no choice but to let it consume her.

And she lets him. She lets him graze her lips with his teeth, slip his tongue into her mouth and steal the very air from her lungs.

The faint but familiar taste of whisky burns on her tongue. It’s thrilling and grounding all at once.

When they finally part from each other, he rests his forehead against hers. They glare at each other as they try to catch their breaths.

She can still feel the beat of the music from inside the club, and a voice over the speaker, gearing up for the countdown for the New Year.

“I meant it when I told you I loved you,” she says. “It’s not how I wanted to say it, but it was the truth.”

Aemond takes a harsh breath and runs his hand over his forehead, through his hair. “I can’t do this now,” he whispers.

She leans further into the wall, only to find she can’t get away from him. She pushes against his chest, but all her strength is gone.

Aemond takes a small step away from her. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I’m not thinking straight I…”

She doesn’t listen to him. She can’t, not past the pounding in her head, the retching feeling in her stomach and the crowd inside the club as they start to chant.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

“You must have known how much you meant to me,” she says. Her voice is clear and her tears are effortless.

“Seven! Six! Five!”

“And what did you do with it? You left me with nothing…”

“Four! Three! Two!”

“You showed me something I’ve never known and then you took it away, only to drag me back in…”

The world erupts around them. Every single voice in the city screams as midnight hits, fireworks and flares soar into the sky and burst with colour, light and noise.

“And I feel so stupid because I let you do it. But I still don’t understand… why do you have to be so fucking cruel? What did I do wrong?”

Aemond looks back at her with a face of agony. Flashes of green, red and gold glisten in his eyes.

“I thought I mattered to you,” she says.

“You did. You still do.”

Her head must be about to burst. She chokes on a sob and cradles her head in her hands.

She keeps her eyes on the floor as Aemond steps into her, and when he wraps his arms around her, she doesn’t have the energy to pull away.

“I’m so tired.” She says it over and over again.

There doesn’t seem to be a moment where they make an agreement, but she lets Aemond pry her hands from her face and lead her onto the street. He tucks her jacket tighter around her arms while he mutters about how cold it is.

She doesn’t feel the cold against her skin, but she can feel herself shivering and her teeth chattering.

A car pulls up to the pavement. Aemond opens the rear door and ushers her inside. It’s warm inside, and the seats are soft. He sits beside her and she falls into him. She closes her eyes, letting the motions and the hum of the engine lull her to a place between waking and sleeping.

Aemond’s gently shakes her awake when the car stops. Wherever he’s brought her, it’s quiet, and once the car disappears down the street, it’s almost silent.

Something cold lands on her cheek. She brushes it away and it melts under her fingers. She looks up, at heavy snowflakes against the streetlights, blinking them from her eyes as they fall.

Aemond takes her hand and she holds it tightly. The dusting of snow crunches under her boots as they walk, a short way along the street and up a series of steps. He doesn’t let go of her as he takes a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door.

He marches her up a seemingly endless number of stairs before they come to a corridor, and another door. It’s dark on the other side, and it smells like him.

She blinks as her eyes adjust to the lack of light. Tall windows make up most of the outer facing walls, and King’s Landing lays out before them. They must be on the outskirts of the city, given how quiet it is, but she can see everything from here, the lights on Conquest Street, the silhouettes of the Red Keep and the Grand Sept, fireworks and lanterns, and the void that is Blackwater Bay beyond the docks.

Aemond leads her through another door. She winces when he turns on a light, but as her vision starts to settle, she realises it’s a bedroom. She’s drawn to the bed like a magnet, collapsing against the duvet.

“Shoes,” Aemond says.

She kicks her boots off and tosses her jacket on the floor. She curls her face into the pillow. It occurs to her that she hasn’t taken her makeup off, but she’s too tired to really care.

Aemond won’t let her sleep yet. He hands her a glass of water and waits for her to drink a few sips. Then he takes it from her and hands her a t-shirt.

“No…” she drawls, falling back against the bed, “wanna sleep.”

“Please,” Aemond says softly.

She drags herself up, fumbling to undo the zip on her dress. She pulls it over her head and rids herself of her bra and fishnets and lifts her arms up for Aemond to help her into the t-shirt. That smells like him too.

“Better?” he says.

She won’t give him the satisfaction. She crawls underneath the duvet, and by the time the light switches off and the door closes, she’s already half asleep.

The first feeling that hits her is a dull ache pulsing in her head.

Then comes a dry feeling in her throat.

Then a nauseating kind of hunger.

And then dread.

Her eyes dart open; it’s still dark in here, wherever here is.

She looks down at the Pink Floyd t-shirt hanging off her. It’s too broad in the shoulders to be hers.

Her lips feel strange. She trails her fingertips over them and squints, just makeing out the shape of her dress and her boots on the floor.

The memories start to fade into view, like a fog lifting from her mind. The pub, the club, the loneliness, and Aemond…

“Fuck,” she hisses.

She’s still a little dizzy as she drags herself from the bed. She finds her phone in her jacket, on the last legs of its battery. 8:55, 1st January glares up at her on the screen, along with texts and missed calls from Baela, Rhaena, Jace and Alys.

“Fuck!”

She grabs the glass of water on the bedside table and treads softly along the hardwood floor, to the door.

She hovers her hand over the handle. She’ll have to come out eventually, might as well get it over with.

The bedroom leads out to an open living space she doesn’t recognise in the slightest. In the corner there’s a kitchen and a small dining table with four chairs, then the rest of the room holds two sofas, a coffee table, a record player, plenty of bookshelves and by the window, a desk and a prayer plant with a ribbon tied around its pot.

None of the lights are on and from what she can tell, Aemond isn’t even here. The room is lit only by daylight. Beyond the windows, the sky is a dull grey and King’s Landing is covered in snow.

Nothing about the apartment is disorderly, expect perhaps for the extensive collection of shoes and coats by the door, most of them black with the odd item of brown for some variety.

The only photos on display are on the desk. One is of Alicent and Helaena, both in pale blue jeans and white blouses, with gentle smiles their arms around each other. Another is of Aegon and Daeron sitting by the pool at Dragonstone. The final one is of an arched, stone bridge, which she recognises immediately as Roseroad Bridge in Oldtown. It’s lined with statues of famous Maesters, Steptons and members of the Hightower family, and she walks along it every day to get from her apartment to uni.

He has his own place now then. She wonders if he moved in right after he left Queen’s Park.

She resists the urge to run her fingers along the desk, or over the closed cover of a notebook and the ink pen beside it.

Her head snaps towards the front door as it unlocks. Aemond walks in with snow on his jacket, a brown paper bag and two coffee cups in a drinks holder.

He raises his eyebrows slightly. “Morning,” he mutters, closing the door behind him.

She slowly makes her way to the kitchen as he unpacks the bag— eggs, a loaf of sourdough and some cherry tomatoes.

He looks up at her, and places one of the cups in front of her. “Oat, vanilla latte.”

“Thanks,” she says. It’s not quite as hot as she would have liked, but she’ll forgive him on account of the snow.

“Sit down,” he says, nodding to the dining table. “Won’t take me long.”

He plates up scrambled eggs and smoked salmon on toast and they eat in silence. After that he quietly clears their plates. She wonders if he’s scared of making too much noise.

Then he comes to sit back down, with a fresh glass of water and painkillers for her.

He sits rigidly against his chair, with one hand on the table and the other in his lap. She’d bet anything his fingers are restless under the table.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

She considers for a moment. She’s starting to feel somewhat closer to normal, but the panic has yet to wear off. “Fine.”

She glances around the room. “This is nice,” she says.

“Rhaenys owns it. She let me move in at short notice.”

“After…”

“After I ended things with Alys.”

She hums distantly, folding her arms and crossing her leg over her knee.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he says.

“Which part are you sorry for?”

He angles an eyebrow at her. “All of it?”

She pouts her lips in irritation— a habit she picked up from him.

His mouth quirks. He clears his throat, takes a sip of his coffee and, by the look of it, struggles to swallow it.

“I’m sorry too, for being so careless,” she says.

“No, I should have left once I saw you.” He presses his lips together and taps his fingertip against the table, three times. “And I’m sorry for calling you on Christmas Eve. I don’t even know what I would have said.”

Her heart sinks, but she reminds herself that’s what she should want. “Just a stupid mistake, yeah?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “Did I really say that? It was actually highly premeditated.”

“Why?” she asks with more disgust than she means to.

He gestures with his hands, as though it should be obvious. “I just wanted to hear your voice again.”

The tension fades from her face. She feels the pull, the hope, the way it crushes her and makes her feel lighter. That’s all she had wanted, as she watched the phone ring, for him to want her, and then she could allow herself to want him back, even though it always ends in misery.

She can still remember what he looked like when they were at Dragonstone, that quiet, reserved kid who spent more time reading than he spent talking. She remembers how excited she was whenever their eyes met or she spotted him sitting alone. She remembers that day he showed her around the house and the gallery. She thought he was going to kiss her then, but he never did.

Maybe he never cared. Maybe was just using her. Maybe she was nothing but another body to fuck.

That doesn’t explain the small things. The hours he spent studying with her, the nights they stayed up talking about anything they could think of, his attentiveness for details, her coffee order, her favourite songs, the way he celebrated her happiness and read her like a book.

“How did we end up here?” she says, “how did we make such a mess of this?”

For a moment he looks like he’s going to reach for her hand, but he stops himself. “I had such a crush on you, when you came to Dragonstone you know,” he says.

“You never said anything.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t think you liked me.”

She tries to laugh but it comes out as a breath. It seems like such a simple misunderstanding for all the pain it has caused.

“I just remember thinking that someone as wonderful as you would never want…” he absentmindedly brushes his fingers along the scar over his eye. “I was different back then; I still had a lot to learn.”

“Aemond,” she says, drawing his eyes back to her, “I thought you were wonderful too.”

“Oh.” He stops himself from smiling and ends up twisting his lips and sticking his chin out in an awkward expression. “Look, I’ve had time to think, and talk this through—”

“With Aegon?”

“And Helaena.”

She tries not to roll her eyes.

“I think I owe you an explanation,” he says.

She leans back in her chair and raises her eyebrows.

Aemond draws his tongue between his lips. “I tried not to think much about you after Dragonstone. You were just Jace’s cousin, I didn’t think I’d have a reason to see you again. And then I knew that first night with Alys was a bad idea. But everything was happening with dad and Rhaenyra, mum was still upset about Storm’s End, and it was just after Harwin got sick… it just happened.”

“Good for you,” she grumbles.

“I’m not trying to play a sympathy card, I just want to tell you the truth,” he says. This time he doesn’t shy away from reaching for her hand. She doesn’t move, and watches as he settles for just resting his hand over hers. “I never meant for things to go as far as they did, but I needed a way out. I needed to get away from my family and Targ Corp. Alys gave me a purpose outside of all that.”

“So you used her?”

“Yes. And she got something out of it too.”

She doesn’t argue against that.

“I don’t know I thought maybe I’d be over how I felt about you. We were just kids, it had been a few years, but then I saw you… and you were perfect. Nothing could convince me otherwise.”

Guilt twinges in her chest. “It wasn’t just you,” she says.

“What do you mean?”

“I kissed you first.”

He tightens his hold of her hand. “But I still wanted you. And we worked it out so well, I just thought we could keep going as we were.”

“Until I fucked it up.”

“No, that’s not it.”

“I did though. I should never have said…” her eyes are starting to sting at the memory. Sprawled out on the bed, naked and not quite satisfied. The empty feeling in her chest as he left her there.

“I couldn’t take me eyes off you at the wedding,” Aemond says. “And then you had one conversation with that Stark kid, and I was losing my fucking mind. I knew why it bothered me. I know how I felt, no matter how I tried to rationalise it. I knew how I felt about you. I always knew.”

She blinks and two tears trail down her cheeks. She can’t manage any more than that.

“I panicked. I didn’t know what it would mean if you felt the same. It just became too real, I—” He exhales heavily, and runs his hand through his hair. “I know this is my mess. I should have stayed away from Alys. I should have been honest. But at the time, it just felt easier to just… let everything happen.”

She had never seen Alys cry as much as she had, that morning when she told her the truth.

“What did you say to mum?”

“After the dinner party? She’d had a horrible night as it was. She said she wished I had defended her more against my parents. I said she should have known what was going to happen before she invited everyone over and that she should stop trying to get involved in my life.”

“Can’t imagine she took that well.”

“I ended up telling her I had rethought my priorities. I couldn’t be what she needed. I said I’d leave Rivers PR and try to patch things up with my family.”

“You didn’t tell her about us though.”

He swipes his thumb over her knuckles. “I didn’t know if you would want me to.”

She takes a shallow breath. “I told her. After you left, I went downstairs and told her everything.”

“What did she say?”

Sometimes she still has nightmares about that morning. She stands in the kitchen while her mother just screams at her.

“She was so angry. It was understandable, I guess, but we barely spoke until I went to Oldtown.”

“You’re at the university?”

“Yeah. She said Oldtown sounded like a good idea. Lots of distance, far away from her.”

“And how has it been, being back home?”

“We talked about it. I think we both realised we didn’t want to lose each other over some stupid guy.”

He half smiles, and exhales. “She called me in September,” he says. “It must have been after you left. She just said she knew. She said I was ‘sick bastard’ and that I should never speak to either of you again.”

“That’s fair,” she says. She takes a sip from her coffee and it’s cold.

“I’m sorry, for everything,” he says. “And you don’t have to forgive me, I just wanted you to know.”

She nods with the smallest movement of her head.

Aemond slides his hand away from her. He leans over his elbows and taps his fingertips on the table again.

She keeps her eyes down as he clears up the coffee cups and follows the sound of his footsteps as he walks to the kitchen, then back to her, hovering over her shoulder.

He takes a slow breath.

“Whenever you’re ready, I could drop you home.”

“Thanks,” she mutters.

“Or if you want another drink, or a shower, or anything…”

She lifts her head and turns herself around to face him. He looks so tired.

“I’ll take you up on a shower.”

He leads her back to the bedroom, handing her a towel from a cupboard, and through to an ensuite with dark tiles on the walls, ceiling and floor, and a shower cornered off from the rest of the room by a glass screen.

She hangs the towel on the back of the door while Aemond runs the water, testing the temperature with his hand.

They turn back into each other.

A hazy cloud of steam fills the room. Aemond’s skin glistens, beads of water and sweat forming along his brow and his neck, but she keeps her gaze on his eyes.

She’s not sure who moves first, but they drift into one another, until their lips meet in an effortlessly delicate kiss.

But it quickly leads to something more intense when she pulls the t-shirt over her head and slides her panties down her legs.

Aemond groans lowly, pulling her into him by her waist, tracing his hands along every inch of her body he can reach. He kisses along her cheek, neck and shoulder as she teases the hem of his t-shirt and his toned stomach underneath.

He moans into her mouth, and she delights in it. “Whose needy now?” she asks sweetly against his lips.

He tears his t-shirt off in one quick movement and surges into kiss her again, cupping and kneading her breasts and her arse.

Then he takes her hands in his, and brings them down to the fly on his jeans.

She grins as he presses his forehead against hers. They both watch as she slowly undoes the buttons and hooks her fingers around the waistband.

She keeps her eyes on him as she pulls his cock free and comes to crouch in front of him, smiling at his clenched fists and tight jaw. He’s already half-hard as she starts to stroke along his length and runs her tongue along the underside of him.

She misses the weight of him in her mouth, his fist in her hair, his praises and the noises he makes as he spills down her throat, but before she can even place her lips at the tip, he drags her up to stand.

“Daddy—”

His usual commanding façade falls to something softer. “No,” he says, “just use my name.”

“Aemond,” she sighs.

He gives her a smug smile and reaches for the side of her neck, tilting her gaze up. “You still on the pill?”

Her breath hitches. “Yeah.”

“Hmm, good girl.”

He walks her into the shower, putting her back against the wall. Her back arches at the cold and the sensation of Aemond’s hands on her hips as he starts trailing kisses down her stomach. He pries her knees apart and teases the sensitive flesh of her thighs with his lips and tongue, edging closer to her cunt.

He must be feeling merciful and doesn’t waste too much time before drags his tongue through her folds.

“Fuck,” he mutters, “missed this perfect pussy.”

It would be embarrassing enough how quickly she comes on his tongue, but what’s worse is just how many times Aemond draws climax after climax from her, circling his tongue over her clit, fucking her with it, then replacing it with his fingers.

Her legs tremble as she feels her slick trickling down her thighs, but he doesn’t need her to stay standing for long. He comes to stand hitches her legs around his hips.

With his face buried in her neck he lines himself up with her entrance and slowly pushes himself inside of her.

She hisses and tugs on his hair at the stretch, but the pain doesn’t last long as he starts to rut into her.

“’m not gonna last long,” he says against her skin, panting with the effort as he picks up his pace.

But she can feel just how responsive her body is to him, just how much she’s missed the feeling of him, his cock dragging through her and hitting that perfect spot deep inside her.

She moans his name and holds him tighter, pulling him closer, urging him deeper.

Her orgasm is a wave of warmth, a soothing relief that just keeps going as Aemond continues to fuck her.

Until his hips still and she feels his cock throb inside of her. His voice is somewhere between a groan and whimper as he comes, and it sends another thrill down her spine.

Carefully, he lowers her down to stand on her own legs, keeping hold of her waist as warm water cascades over their bodies. His eyes don’t stop moving over her face, and she can’t stop touching him, threading her fingers though his hair, feeling along his neck, his jaw, his cheeks and his lips.

He turns her around. The cap of a bottle clicks and he lathers shampoo through her hair, then tilts her head back to rinse it out. Next, he coats it in conditioner, and keeping her back against his chest and his head over her shoulder, he washes her skin with a lavender body wash.

Then he pushes her into the wall by the base of her neck. She braces herself by her palms as he takes a delicate hold of her throat and fucks her again. He reaches deeper from this angle, bullying against her sweet spot.

Aemond keeps a steady pace and kisses the back of her neck. “Tell me you missed me,” he says.

“I missed you,” she utters, “missed how good you make me feel.”

“Hmm, missed being my good little slut?”

She tries to say it back, but all she manages is a throaty moan as she comes undone around him.

Then he washes the conditioner out of her hair like it’s nothing.

After he’s dried her off with the towel, he carries her back to the bedroom and lays her out on her back.

He’s insatiable. He fucks her again with their foreheads pressed together and their lips barely brushing over each other. Every brutal snap of his hips is another step towards a burning oblivion, and his pace barely falters as he positions her legs over his shoulders.

She can feel herself twitching and clamping around him, the coil in her belly tensing and tensing until it’s almost unbearable.

Aemond presses his teeth together and hisses like it hurts. “So tight,” he whispers, “my good girl, so fucking tight.”

“Please,” she utters, “Aemond, I wanna come,”

He frowns in mocking sympathy and grazes his lips over her the sensitive spot on her neck. “I know you do, baby, I’m close too, just hold out for me a little longer, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says, barely a breath, and she says it over and over again. She closes her eyes so she can lose herself in it all, his cock dragging through her, the wet sounds of sex, the smell of sweat and lavender bodywash, his nose pressing against her cheek as he turns into her, his breath over her mouth, his desperate moans and whimpers…

Her orgasm rises and comes crashing down, until her skin comes alight and her body starts to tremble underneath him.

Aemond lets out a guttural groan as he comes, stilling his hips against her, pushing in impossibly deeper as a warmth floods through her.

He lifts his face to hover over hers. His hair is still damp and so is hers, leaving a cold patch on the pillow that makes her shiver.

Aemond leans on one hand over her and brings his thumb to her bottom lip to pry open her jaw.

She sticks her tongue out, ready and waiting as he trails a slow line of spit into her mouth.

“Swallow,” he mutters, and she does.

He smiles vaguely as takes her legs down from his shoulders and pulls her to sit up, cupping her face in his hands and leaning in to kiss her lazily.

This is how things were supposed to be, she thinks, winter mornings wrapped up in each other, her body settled in a perfect state between bliss and numbness.

Suddenly he’s moving away again. “All fours,” he says.

She rolls over her side and props herself against the mattress on her hands and knees.

Aemond keeps a punishing grip of her hips as he slides his cock into her sensitive pussy, fingertips digging into her flesh as he pulls her into him with every thrust.

It doesn’t take long before her arms feel weak and her wrists start to ache. “Aemond,” she whines, “please, please…”

Aemond pulls her against his chest as he keeps pounding into her. One arm wraps around her shoulders and her chest, holding her against him while his fingers pinch at one of her nipples. His other hand snakes down her body to play with her clit.

“Mine,” he groans against the shell of her ear, “you’re mine and you love it. I’m never going to let you go, never.” As harsh as his voice is he sounds desperate, pleading.

She holds her arms over the arm keeping her in place, helpless to do anything but cling to him and just take it.

She’s lost count of how many times he’s made her come, and this orgasm tears through her suddenly as a broken cry sounds in her throat. She digs her nails into Aemond’s arm to take the edge off as white-hot pleasure surges through her.

Her mind is completely fucked out. Aemond lets her fall back on the bed and spreads her legs, trailing his thumb through her soaked folds and his cum as it dribbles out of her.

And he slips into the bed beside her, pulling the duvet over their bodies and holding her close.

“I might need another shower,” she says.

Aemond huffs a laugh and presses a kiss to her temple.

It’s cold but she drags herself from the bed and goes to the ensuite to sort herself out. She runs herself another shower and brushes her teeth with a spare toothbrush she finds in a basket under the sink.

And when she comes back into the bedroom, Aemond looks at her with a dazed smile and a look of wonder in his eyes. She practically runs back to join him, wrapping her arms around his torso and tucking herself under his shoulder to rest her head over his heart.

“There was something else I wanted to talk to you about,” he says.

She doesn’t reply but he knows she’s listening.

“I’ve been talking to mum and Otto, and I think I might take him up on that job offer at Beacon.”

Her heart beats a little faster, in time with his. Dread pools in her stomach again, eased by the afterglow and the satisfied ache between her legs.

“We’d both be in the same city, away from our families. I could get my own place.”

“And?” she utters.

“We could start over. We could try to make this work.”

Away from his parents and Targ Corp. Away from Alys. Away from the city she’s been trying to run away from.

“I think mum would kill me,” she says.

Aemond shrugs. “She wouldn’t have to know.”

“So what, we go back to keeping secrets?”

“No,” he says, turning on his side to face her. He places his hand on her neck, caressing his fingertips over her skin. “No, that’s the whole point, we wouldn’t have to hide anything in Oldtown. It would just be me and you.”

She meets his suggestion with silence.

“You don’t want to,” he whispers.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” she says, propping herself up and resting a hand on his chest. “But we’ve made mistakes before. I just don’t think this is a good idea.”

Aemond’s expression shifts. His mouth tenses and his brow furrows, not quite angry, but hardly innocent.

“I understand,” he says, but she’s not sure she believes him.

She pulls herself away from him and swings her legs over the side of the bed, placing her feet on the floor. “I think you should just take me home.”

They fall back to silence. She slips into her dress and her jacket, stuffing her fishnets in her pocket because she can’t be bothered to put them on. She makes sure she has her phone and her keys, and waits for Aemond by the front door.

He’s not far behind her, appearing in a white knit jumper and a pair of blue jeans.

The streets are almost empty, and a good thing too because the roads are thick with snow. Aemond drives slowly and cautiously, not that he’s ever been an especially reckless driver.

The Bluetooth on the car picks up her phone automatically. She tuts as a Lana Del Rey song plays through the speakers.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, reaching to turn to audio off.

“No,” Aemond says, holding his hand over the button. “I like this song.”

She withdraws her hand and tries not to smile. “I fucking knew it. You’re a secret Lana fan.”

Aemond huffs a quiet laugh. “I just appreciate good music. Ultraviolence is a modern masterpiece.”

The weather gives them a reason not to talk for the rest of the way. She keeps her eyes ahead, pretending to be enchanted by the snow, but she keeps stealing glances of him, with minimal movements of her head so as not to draw his attention. She watches his hands as they grip the steering wheel, his legs as he presses down on the pedals, and his face in the reflection of the windshield.

It takes twice the amount of time it should for them to reach Queen’s Park, and he pulls over a few houses before hers.

Once they’ve stopped Aemond sighs and runs his hands over the wheel. He leaves the engine running to keep the heating going.

She eyes the door handle and her fingers twitch.

“When would you be moving to Oldtown?” she asks.

“I start at the end of the month. I’m trying to find a place before then.”

“Right,” she says.

She looks further down the street, but the house is hidden by hedges. Alys should have come straight home after her gala. Most days she’s an early riser, and she doesn’t tend to overdo it on the drinks when she’s working— which to her, is almost always. She’s probably in the kitchen, trying to figure out where in Seven Hells she ended up last night.

She looks back to Aemond. He’s watching her with wide eyes.

“I have my thesis due at the end of the term, and exams after that. I’ll be pretty busy,” she says.

He nods and peeks his tongue between his lips. “If you need anything,” he mutters, “you can call me, anytime.”

“Thanks.”

“And, you know, if you ever change your mind…”

“I’ll call you.”

The possibility seems more and more likely the longer she looks at him.

But she pushes open the car door before she does something stupid.

She follows the footsteps already laid out in the snow. It must be a good few inches of snowfall; the prints are set deep. Thank the Seven she’d chosen to wear boots and not heels.

“Wait—” He doesn’t need to say it loudly, it’s quiet enough that she hears him, even when he barely utters it.

She turns as Aemond slams the car door shut and closes the distance between them in a few strides.

“What?” she utters.

Aemond nudges his nose into hers and cups her cheeks in his hands. Her skin feels like ice against him. Warmth blooms in her chest, and suddenly she’s able to forget that she’s standing out in the snow, in a black mini dress and a leather jacket.

He tenderly presses his lips into hers. They kiss like it’s their first times, with slow and cautious movements. More than anything she just feels the shape of his lips and lets them rest against each other.

This time, when she pulls away for a breath, and those careless words come out of her mouth, barely above a whisper, he doesn’t break away from her. He doesn’t abandon her. He says it back.

It’s terrifying and grounding all at once.

She crashes her lips against his to kiss him properly, tugging at the collar of his jumper and running her hand over the pulse point of his neck.

She knows she can’t lie to herself. As soon as January is done, she’ll find his name in her phone. She’ll say she missed him. He’ll tell her he loves her, and she’ll say it back. Time will tell if it turns out to be a bad decision.

“I don’t think my life makes sense without you,” she says against his lips.

Aemond smiles, with a gentle curl of his mouth and a look of intense excitement in his eyes. “I know, baby. I know.”

Tags (comment to be added to either)

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya

Series Taglist: @marthawrites @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aaaaaamond @boundlessfantasy @sahvlran @tinykryptonitewerewolf @arcielee @tssf-imagines @aemondsfavouritebastard @skikikikiikhhjuuh @queenofshinigamis @lost-and-founds @izzydlb @dc-marvel-girl96 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @padfooteyes @castellomargot @pet1t3 @okfashionista @khaothick @babygirlyofthevale

[topazy]

Tomorrow's promise

Pairing: Daryl Dixon × reader, Rick Grimes × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 3.05

There is a striking absence of noise during breakfast aside from the occasional sound of Jace’s babbling and spoons scraping bowls. It was too quiet—no conversation, no small talk of any kind, not even gunshots lingering in the background outside. The uneasy tension causes the hairs on your arms and neck to raise.

In-between observing Jace attempt to feed himself mushy oatmeal, you watch as Carl picks at his food; he looks so lost. Everyone present was trying their best to look out for him, but he was only beginning to mourn his mom’s death. Sensing you were being watched, you look across the table you’re sitting at to the concrete steps leading to the next room and meet Daryl’s gaze. You hadn’t spoken to him yet that morning, and since there was an unspoken vow of silence, it didn’t feel appropriate to even say good morning.

With the feeling of Daryl’s lips pressing against your own, heat rushes to your face. Just as you start to feel lost in the moment he pulls away, his lips are now ghosting yours. You start to grow nervous when he doesn't say anything, but he finally breaks the silence, whispering, “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Placing your hand on the back of his head, you pull him in for another kiss.

“Everybody okay?”

You’re almost startled to hear your brother's voice. As part of his grief, he had been avoiding everyone, including his new baby. You spin around to face him and are glad to see he looks better than when you saw him in the early hours of the morning, his hair, face, and clothes soaked in Walker blood.

After a long pause, Maggie answers, “Yeah, we are.”

You share a look with Hershel, who’s sitting beside you at the table; he had already tried to get through to Rick that he was being reckless and putting his life in danger, but he didn’t listen. The older man looks up at him and says, “What about you?”

“I cleared out the boiler block.”

You hear concern in Daryl’s voice when he asks, “How many were there?”

“I don’t know. A dozen, two dozen. I have to get back. I just wanted to check on Carl.”

You try your best to keep any hints of frustration out of your tone. He could hardly look at the sweet baby girl sleeping in Beth’s arms. “Stay here; rest. We can take the bodies out; you don’t need to do this alone.”

“No, I do.” He walks past you and goes over to Daryl. “Everyone has a gun and a knife?”

Daryl briefly meets your gaze; he swallows the rest of the food in his mouth before answering. “Yeah. We’re running low on ammo, though. Lily and Glenn are going on a supply run this afternoon to get bullets and baby formula, and we cleared out the generator room. Axel’s they’re trying to fix it in case of emergency... We’re going to sweep the lower levels as well.”

“Good. Good.”

When Rick walks out of the cell block, Hershel yells his name, but your brother ignores him. The older man sighs, “It might be time for tough love from a sibling.”

You both nod and settle Jace into Hershel’s arms before standing. Just as you go to leave, you feel a presence behind you and turn to see Carl looking up at you. His eyes widened with worry.

“Aunt y/n?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I go with Daryl and Oscar to clear out the ground floor? I asked Daryl earlier, but he says I need to check with you first.”

His words stung; right now, you were his only parental figure. You straighten the sheriff’s hat on his head and force a smile. “Sure, as long as you listen to what he says.”

“Do you think you’ll get through to my dad?”

“I hope so, munchkin.”

—

“Rick…Rick…” When your brother doesn’t respond to you calling his name for the third time, you say the one thing you know will get his attention, “Richard.”

He freezes just as he reaches the door leading outside. Rick slowly turns back around to face you, frowning. He says, “Nobody ever called me that, but dad.”

“I know,” you say, shaking your head as you walk towards him. “But it got you to stop, didn’t it?”

You had spent roughly twenty minutes trying to find him, and with each passing minute, you became terrified that something bad had happened. He had gotten himself killed by trying to take on too many walkers at once. When you open your mouth to speak, he waves his hand dismissively. “Y/n, just don’t.”

Irritated, you clicked your tongue. You felt for Rick; it was obvious he was suffering, but if he continued acting the way he was, Carl and the baby would soon become orphans. When he goes to open the door, you slam his door shut and step in front of it. “I’m worried about you, Rick. I’m worried you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I’m fine.”

He tries to pull the door open, but you press your full weight against it, stopping him. Rick’s grip on the ax in his hand is so tight, his knuckles turn white. You could hear the walkers outside snarling close by, and Rick was in no fit state to take them on himself. “But what about Carl and your daughter? They need you; I need you.”

You don’t even realize you’re crying until you taste the saltiness of tears on your lips.

“How do I move on from this?” He asks. “How do I even begin to recover from this?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I sometimes think about the way we were before the world went to shit, and when I do, it hurts like hell, but it was different for me. The man I fell in love with died long before he died on the farm. I’m not going to tell you how to grieve, because hell if I know, but risking your life isn’t the way to do it.”

His eyes became glossy with unshed tears. “I haven’t even held her yet.”

You say nothing.

“Did you forgive them?”

You chew on your lower lip, struggling to answer him. Did you? In the pre-apocalypse you would have cut ties with both your fiancé and sister-in-law, but in the new world, you didn’t have that luxury to hold onto pain the same way you would have before.

“I was just—” He presses his head against the metal bars of the cell, a sob escaping from his mouth. “We were just beginning to forgive each other, and then she died, and now I’ll never know if we could have made it. But we’ll never know because both Lori and Shane are gone.”

Rick drops the ax in his hand and slides to the floor. You mirror his actions and sit down beside him. “What’s done is done. We can’t bring them back, but we need to keep it together for our kids. And you have a beautiful daughter waiting to meet her father.”

—

While you’re handing Jace over to Beth, Daryl walks over to your bunker. He tilts his head to greet the young girl before looking at you. “Hey, are you and Glenn just getting ready to go?”

“We are just getting ready to go now.”

He says nothing while observing you, checking your ammo, and swiping your knife into its sheath. Beth takes no notice of this because she is so focused on Jace reaching for her hair, not that she seems fazed by it. It’s not until you reach for the long-sleeved top at the end of the bed and place it over the vest top that Daryl finally says something again. “The area has already been checked out; there are hardly any dead roaming. Should be in and out quick.”

Although it seems like a general conversation, the look Daryl is giving you is reassuring. “Yeah?”

He raises his eyebrows and points at your hands. Your fingers were trembling while you pushed the buttons through the holes on the top. Daryl was the only one that noticed. “You worried?”

You sigh, “I’m not worried about the run; I just don’t like leaving Jace, Carl, and the baby when my brother is absent.”

Hershel would no doubt be running point in the cell block while Daryl cleared out the lower level of the prison, but you still couldn’t help but worry about leaving them. Beth was amazing with the babies, but you felt guilty whenever she watched them for too long. On the flip side, you still needed to do your share of supply runs.

“I’ll make sure nothing happens to them while you’re gone.”

You press your lips together and smile, “I know.”

“Yo y/n,” Glenn says, standing beside Daryl. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys soon.”

—

“We just hit the powdered formula jackpot,” Glenn says, holding the store’s door open with his foot so you can get by. “I can’t believe we have all this stuff.”

Aside from a few birds nesting inside the store, it looked as if nobody else had been in it in a long time. There were shelves full of baby formula, diapers, and bottles that you placed either in your backpack or in red baskets. You’d even managed to find some toys for the kids to play with. “Thank God, I’d hate to go back empty-handed.”

“And where is it y’all good people are calling home?”

Being startled by an unfamiliar voice, you drop the baskets to reach for your gun. The man in front of you had blood sprayed across his face and a large blade at the end of his wrist instead of a hand.

Glenn comes up behind you, looking confused. “Merle?”

The man lets out a laugh, places his gun on the ground, and starts to come closer. “Wow!”

“That’s far enough!”

“Okay, okay, honey. Jesus.”

“You made it,” Glenn says, sounding surprised.

Merle, Merle, Merle. You knew that name but couldn’t place it, and then it finally clicked for you who this man is. “You’re Daryl’s brother?”

He nods, “Can you tell me, is he still alive? Huh?”

“Yeah.”

Merle looks genuinely relieved to know his brother is safe. “Hey, you take me to him, and I’ll call it even on everything that happened up there in Atlanta. No hard feelings, huh?” When he notices Glenn staring at the large blade, Merle laughs. “Oh yeah. Well, I found myself in a medical supply warehouse. I fixed it up myself. Pretty cool, huh?”

Glenn tries to reason with Merle by saying he’d bring Daryl to him, but you already knew that wasn’t going to work. Even if you hadn’t heard stories about Daryl’s brother being untrustworthy, one glance at him and you'd know he was trouble. Merle expected you to believe he had made it from Atlanta himself, and aside from the blood that belongs to someone else, he looked clean and relatively healthy. You look at the car behind Merle, and in its reflection, you see another gun in his back pocket. He notices you looking and lunges for you.

“Get off me!”

He wrestles you to the ground and holds the gun to your head. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he places the blade in your throat, and you are completely trapped.

“Merle, put the gun down and let her go!” Glenn yells, “Put it down now!”

Merle presses the gun closer to your face, and you tremble with fear when you hear him clicking the safety off. You met Glenn’s gaze and shook your head slowly. “We will never tell you where our camp is.”

“Very mouthy for someone with a gun to her head,” he laughs. “Put the gun in the car, son.”

Glenn reluctantly follows his orders. By the look on his face, you know he’s in a silent agreement that, no matter what, you weren’t telling Merle a damn thing. You’d rather die than lead a man like that to your family. With all the commotion, the garbage-covered street was beginning to fill with walkers.

“Get in the car, Glenn; you’re driving. The three of us are going on a little road trip.”

[im-out-of-it]

season 1, episode 5 continued

27. “Swear to me you won’t take your eyes off of clary. I, I can’t believe I even asked you that. you won’t let me down.”- jace. I can’t believe you asked that either jace. all he does is take advantage of Alec. he expects Alec to drop everything and help him right away. so not only does Alec have to watch someone he cares for falls in love with another girl, he has to babysit that same girl who is already causing enough chaos with his life and family

27. this is something clary will never understand. she doesn’t care about the law because it’s in her way.

28. Alec knows if he messes up, he will be held accountable. Jocelyn didn’t teach that to clary. Alec wants to be a leader and he’s aware that rules exist for a reason

29. and then clary is like I know you’ve been trying to help but basically you can do more. bitch, she is asleep, she’s not hurt, and Valentine has an army. you can’t just walk in and pick up your mother and be out. I’m trying to be sympathetic but she’s a migraine

30. Alec is already in trouble because of clary and here she goes wanting to go to her old loft without getting clave permission. not only does she need to be kept safe but she wants to go out where so many people are already probably hunting her. fucking hell, this girl doesn’t have a brain

31. okay so Magnus is getting right to it 🔥

32. ruining a perfectly good date Alec and Magnus could have had but noooooooooo clary had to go run off AGAIN. so not only has alec broken so many rules for her but she has literally no respect for Alec. not only does jace like clary but Alec has to witness jace’s feelings day in and day out. Alec has to babysit her while he gets berated by his own mother and then jace. GIVE THIS MAN A BREAK

33. I’m sorry but how is it Alec’s fault that she ran off?????

34. “You know the difference between the circle and the clave? I don’t. They all look the same to me. Shadowhunters think they are better than us. They’re the ones killing each other over petty disagreements. They expect us to obey orders they don’t follow themselves.”-wolf leader (I can’t think of his name) but man has a point. shadowhunters in general do think they’re better. they had the uprising but shadowhunters still don’t talk about how their own “people” committed atrocities and look at downworlders as if they’re the problem. Valentine was jealous of downworlders having powers he didn’t. Shadowhunters started hunting downworlders first I believe. Jace gets punishment in season two because he didn’t swear allegiance to the clave but he killed a wolf and I didn’t see much punishment for that. the clave and shadowhunters can do whatever and it’s not a problem until a downworlder does the same

36. Alec: am I gay? yes I’m gay but not gay for him

37. it’s insane how clary runs off and jace’s first instinct is to blame Alec. because that’s his fault, how??????

38. Simon gets kidnapped again because of clary because she ran off yet again.

39. Alec watching Simon climbing and being quick and seeing runes and he’s like now wait a damn minute. “running fire escapes excites mundanes, ill never understand these people” 💀

40. and the fact is, alec is genuinely worried and mad. he knows his mom will rip him a new one when she finds out. he also knows jace will be angry because jace is obsessed with clary. he could’ve been training at the institute or having a drink with Magnus but he has to babysit and now chase a stupid 18 year old girl because she didn’t care enough to sit her childish ass down. literally Alec can never be happy with all of his responsibilities. he has to keep jace out of trouble and now clary and prove to his parents that he can handle it. it’s not that surprising that he doesn’t seem happy.

41. (he’s just so fucking beautiful) 🥰

I don’t really see many people actually talking about what Alec goes through in the first season. Maryse is always spewing hateful comments towards Alec because apparently he’s not good enough, jace states Alec isn’t doing a good enough job, like he doesn’t really have anyone in his corner. he spends the first season getting berated. so no wonder he’s not happy

part 3 coming to a stadium near ya ✨

[retnym]

WORLD TOUR- .06

"Publicity isn't so bad."

“What the fuck!?” I shouted, storming out of my bedroom into the living room where everyone except Tom was. “What’s up?” Georg was the first to speak up as he took a drink of his coffee. I aggressively start tapping on my phone and then show what I was just looking at. 

We recently got touch screen phones, finally getting rid of the flip phones so we can do more on these it’s just sadly smaller than you’d like to have. Georg takes the device, letting Gustav see as well. After a few seconds of reading they burst into laughter. “It’s not that funny.” I huff, crossing my arms as Gustav shows the phone to Johanna who presses her lips together tightly, trying not to look me in the eyes.

“I want to see.” Bill pushes through them, taking it from them. “Oh boy.” He slaps a hand over his mouth, cracking up. “What’s so funny?” And here we go. Tom joins the room holding a Coke and an apple in the other hand. We all look at him, the others try to hold their laughter in as I just look annoyed.

Bill silently walks over to him with my phone, as Tom reads he takes a bite of his apple, we all watch his reaction as his face contorts when he’s reading his eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Gross.” I shake my head, finally going over to the twins and taking my phone back from them. Turning it off and shoving it into my back pocket.

What’s on my phone is an article on the internet that’s going to be placed on the front page magazine in stores for everyone to see. It’s pictures of Tom and I from yesterday and it’s made to look like we were a lot closer than we actually were. The main thing read: “Tom Kaulitz and [Name] [Last Name] seen together out and about, eating, at the dry cleaners and at a supermarket. Are they the next big couple?” 

First of all, ew, ew ew, ew. Second of all that’s so creepy, they literally have pictures from every single place we went and just because we ran errands together all of a sudden we’re a couple? “That’s pretty funny.” Gustav chuckles and Johanna agrees. “Well, it wouldn’t have even happened if you guys didn’t leave us.” I roll my eyes as they just snicker at each other and go back to playing a tic-tac-toe game.

“Publicity isn’t so bad.” Bill shrugs, “It is if it’s saying I’m with Tom.” I remind him and he sighs, motioning that I kind of have a point. “I mean there’s nothing we can do about it now.” Georg points out and Tom hums in agreement taking another bite from his apple. “I guess you’re right.” I stare at the floor sadly.

What is Jace gonna think?

Has he already seen it? Is he going to hate me? 

Johanna taps me on the shoulder and I snap out of my thoughts, we should probably talk anyways. I take her hand and we go into my bedroom together. I shut the door carefully before the both of us jump onto the bed. 

“Seriously nothing happened?” She asks, I take out my phone and nod, placing it next to us. “We just talked if that’s something to your nothing.” I shrug.

“Why?” My eyes follow up to hers as she seems to almost be in another world as she thinks before she speaks. “I don’t know.” 

“Did something happen with Gustav?” I smirk, and she snaps in my direction. “Huh?” She slightly chokes on her own saliva as I start laughing. “So there is something?” I tease her only to get swatted away. “We’re just friends.” 

“For now.”

“Don’t change the subject, what did you guys talk about? Are you two good now?” She goes back to Tom and I take a deep breath wanting to continue to make fun of her but this seems to really pique her interest. “Just things, and I think so. Hopefully.” I whisper the last part but I think she heard. “What about Jace?” She quickly changes the subject and I just throw my head back. 

“He comes over soon to pick me up.” I bite on my bottom lip as I think about the magazine and about things Tom said yesterday. “Are you guys going to try doing the distance thing again?” This question stumbles me and it reminds me again of Tom. His face flashes as he tells me there are so many guys who want to be with me and here I am thinking about Jace. 

“I think I’ll have my answer when he gets here.” I lay back on the bed, I play with my fingers as a million thoughts race through my mind. I felt Johanna join me, her head lying next to mine. We stayed in comfortable silence for what seemed like hours which in reality it had only been six minutes. 

“I’m thirsty.” She mumbles and I turn to her. “Get water.” 

“I don’t want to get up.” She groans like a baby so I roll my eyes and get right back up. “What do you want?” I throw a hand to my hip as she smiles innocently at me. “A sprite.” 

I roughly open the door only to hear the boys talking so being me and since they didn’t hear the door I gently closed it and tip-toed to the end of the hall, listening in. “I can’t believe you guys didn’t argue at all.” Bill giggles, and the other two join. I try to hold back a laugh too as it does seem nearly impossible as we spend so much time arguing. “I only let her complain to me so we weren’t causing a scene in public,” Tom informs them and my eyebrows furrow at his words.

“Like I’ve said before, she’s desperate for attention, any guy that looks her way she’ll give into and I was only proving a point for myself.” He takes a drink from his coke loudly and whatever smile that was left on my face drops. My heart pounded and felt like it was going to leap out of my throat.  “Yesterday was just to help us get through the tour.” 

“That’s not right, Tom,” Gustav says and I glance from the wall, they were all facing the other direction but from their energies, they all seemed disappointed. Bill looked like he was spacing out. “She was a little right man, you are a dick.” Georg sighs. A few seconds pass by and I clear my throat letting them know I was about to walk by. 

All their demeanors change but I don’t acknowledge them, just heading straight to the kitchen and grabbing what I was even coming out for. Then heading right back to my bedroom. I stand outside the door, hearing them talk again. “Do you think she heard?” Bill worriedly asked. “Hopefully not,” Gustav adds. 

Dropping my head for a split second I open the door and lift my shoulders, placing a fake smile upon my face. I hand her the drink and we continue talking. But that conversation I eavesdropped in never left my mind. 

As we were now just relaxing and listening to music after we had just fought over what show to watch but of course not being able to pick we just landed on music and lay there. I felt the bed vibrate and I shoot up, having to shove the blankets and pillows around as I searched for my phone. “Here.” Johanna laughs and I take it from her. 

It was a text message from Jace saying he was outside. “He’s here.” 

“Already?” She whines, “I’ll see you before the show.” I grab my bag and slip on some shoes. “Tell me how it goes.” Jo whistles and I laugh, nodding and running out of the room. As I was about to open the front door a hand goes onto my bicep. “Wait, where are you going?” 

Tom smiles at me and I wince, closing my eyes shut before relaxing my shoulders and turning to look at him. “Out with Jace.” I fake a smile. “Oh,” His smile slightly faulters. “Have fun.” He lets go og me and I just walk out of the door. 

I make the decision before the show, that’s what I told Jace and that’s what I’m going to do.

“Hey, beautiful.” Jace was standing on the passenger side of his car, opening the door for me. I stand on my tip toes and kiss his cheek. “Hi, babe.” I drag my hand on his torso before getting into the car. He shuts the door and makes his way to the driver's side as I glance to back to the house and I swear I saw someone looking through the window.

Whatever. 

Jace ends up just getting fast food and we sit in the parking lot. “So,” He coughs, swallowing the bite he had in his mouth, covering his face with a hand before he continues.

“I saw that article from yesterday.” And my heart drops and so does my appetite. I place down my fries and adjust my body to face him. “I thought the others were supposed to be there.” He says but it was more in a questioning way. I nod, wiping my hands on my jeans. “There were, but they left us alone and honestly the only time we really talk was in the supermarket. He’s an asshole anyways.” I sigh, taking a little sip of the drink that we’re sharing. 

“I wasn’t questioning you, I just thought they cropped out the others.” He laughed, but he saw my face was still down so he sighs then talks again. “I thought you two were getting along though.” He places his hand atop mine and I sadly look into his eyes. “Me too.” 

I explain what I overheard and as I talked I watched as his jaw clenches, I squeeze his hand and smiled. “It’s okay though, I don’t know why I thought we were actually going to stop hating each other.” I laughed, he just shakes his head. “It’s not okay, you aren’t desperate.” He takes my face into his hands.

That’s when I got my answer.

My answer for being with him. 

“I want to try.” I suddenly whisper to him and his eyes widen. 

���Really?” He smiles and I nod dramatically. “Let’s do it,” I say and he kisses me roughly before peppering the kisses around my face causing me to laugh. 

It was all cut short by the sound of my phone going off. “Shit, it’s Gustav,” I mutter, quickly answering the call. “Hey, we gotta go in sooner than we thought, be there in 20,” Gustav tells me. “Okay, see you there.” 

“Of course, love you.” He calls out and I laugh. “Love you too.”

“I have to get to the theater for our last concert. Sorry to cut this short.” I frown and he motions it off. “Let’s get you there on time.” He kisses me one last time before driving off. 

Getting to the building the both of us were rushing inside, having to push past workers on accident of course having to yell  “I’m sorry!” Over and over again. 

Once we met up with everyone else I let go of Jace’s hand and went straight to Johanna. “We’ve decided.” I laugh, the boys listened in, acting like they weren’t but I know them better than that. “Yes?” She took my hands. “We’re trying out the distance.” I squeal and she pulls me into a hug.

“Congratulations!” She grins, Bill puts himself into the hug as well, jumping up and down with us. “That’s so exciting!”

Then we stop and I glance over to Tom who isn’t saying or doing anything but after what he said earlier I just look back to the others who started threatening Jace that if he hurts me again he’s dead.

I don’t know if this is a good idea but I might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

Alright, it's gettin good for real! Now here's more drama. I told you the enemy part wasn't over yet. It probably won't be until like chapter... I'm not even going to say it because I said so. I'm still sick as hell but I wanted a chapter out so I made it happen. I hope I can do the same tomorrow. But until next time:)

[t4tozier]

follow up on the knife play thing - Jace carving his name into porter. Because if Porter gets to put a shatter star in his body, Jace should get to leave some kind of mark on him too

ohhhh my god. yeah. yeah. jace is feeling particularly itchy in his skin one day and he can't figure out why. and then he sees lucilla talking to porter and he wells up with jealousy, quite literally seeing red, and he's like oh. okay. that might be part of the reason why. but porter takes him to bed that night, as he always does, and before he can get fully undressed, jace whips out one of his daggers. porter raises an eyebrow, but doesn't otherwise say anything against it, so jace sets the dagger on the nightstand and continues to strip.

it's not until he's straddling porter, both of them naked, that he picks up the pearl-handled knife again. "you've already proven i'm yours," he murmurs, nipping at porter's ear, "so now, let me show you that you're mine." the tip of the dagger slips underneath porter's ribs, and he hisses, but doesn't tell him to stop. why would he? this is jace owning him, for the very first time. he'll never say no to a public display of affection.

jace is almost delicate with it, the way he slices each letter into the meat of porter's stomach. it's not deep enough to cause genuine injury, but certainly enough to leave a scar. porter revels in it. he watches as jace carves his initials into his skin, seeing the blood bead with each press and licking his lips like he can swipe it up off his stomach with his tongue. jace, though porter can tell he wants more, leaves the new scars to rest, to ensure that they'll stick.

they fuck like they always do, but a couple of weeks later, porter has thin lines carved into his stomach like a brand. he may pray to ankarna, but he'll never forget who he truly belongs to.

[sleeplessdreamer123]

Fanfic Idea! (Modern Lucemond, Drunk Game Night)

Lucerys got tired of waiting for Jacaerys. He was sitting in the car, bored as hell, getting irritated for every second the door to the frat house opened and his brother wasn't the one getting out. They were supposed to be heading home by now, but nooo, Jacaerys had something to do it the frat house for a few minutes. He'll just do it quickly and get out to drive, promises and stuff. Except he's not doing what he promised, and the "few minutes" is already almost an entire hour.

Once the door opened and it was decidedly not Jace, Lucerys had enough. He got out of the car, pissed, and entered the frat. They knew who he was, so they let him in easy. He tried to look around the party, getting even more pissed when he doesn't see Jace's brown hair anywhere in the crowd. He does see a white one, and tried his best to avoid it. He knew his uncle Aegon loved these sorts of parties, and he was a bit crazy once alcohol is introduced to his bloodstream, so he didn't want to be anywhere near him once he has an idea.

He decided to head upstairs, opening the doors of the rooms, and closing it as soon as possible. They were all filled with sex ridden horny young adults, and Lucerys is having a rising suspicion that his brother might be one of them. So it wasn't really much of a surprise when he opened the last door and saw his brother getting absolutely railed by a very familiar muscular dude from what he saw before closing the door. Cregan Stark. Huh.

He decided to just give his brother at least thirty more minutes to have his post nut clarity, before he would no doubt half-hazardly wear his clothes, drag Lucerys to the car and drive like the devil possessed.

His worst mistake was deciding to leave the party without looking around for the white haired uncle, because before he knew it, he was dragged from behind and forced to play truth or dare with a beer bottle. And his other uncle, the one he maimed (he doesn't remember it much, all he knows is that Aemond hates him for it), was also in the circle of players. His attempt to leave was thwarted by his crazier uncle Aegon, who forced him to sit on his lap and act like a drunk slob, the contents on his mouth dribbling on Lucerys' comfortable sweater (he will burn the sweater later, feeling that it has been ruined beyond fixing the moment Aegon's dripping beer came in contact with it).

So he just sat there, trapped, forced to play. So far, he hasn't been forced into doing anything yet, hoping that his luck would stay this way. So of course, it did not.

The bottle pointed at Aemond, who chose dare, and Aegon cheered, putting Lucerys aside (a chance to escape!) and whispered something in his ear, causing Aemond to shove him away. Aegon decided that name calling would be appropriate, calling his brother a coward.

During all this, Lucerys took the opportunity to slowly walk away from the drunken crowd, desperately hoping Jace was still either getting a much deserved railing, or at least waiting for him to return to the car, and not speeding away without him.

He was, however, stopped again by someone dragging the back of his sweater (seriously, this sweater must be cursed, and he is burning it the moment they got home!). He was about to complain when he felt lips on his lips, a foreign tongue in his mouth, the taste of beer and something else surprising him enough that he stood frozen, a moan, escaping his mouth. Then, slowly, he began to reciprocate.

He would have been a bit fine with it (at least the kiss was nice) if it weren't for the fact that he was making out with his uncle! But it was just so, so good, and he was so, so fucked, but right now his head is in the clouds, mind being hazy, and the need to get closer absolutely killing any sort of common sense he had left.

He gasped a bit when he felt hands traveling around his body, from his back to his waist to his ass. He did not expect to be picked up so effortlessly.

He heard someone talking, some people were cheering, and he was just going to ignore it all. Then he felt someone pulling the back of his sweater again. And the voice of his brother brought him back to reality. He broke the kiss and quickly untangled himself from his uncle, which seemed to displease Aemond (he was displeased too, by the way), and turned to face his brother, who doesn't seem to notice who he was kissing (which was a good thing, because they don't need another brawl in a drunken environment), too concerned about the fact that Cregan was after him, walking down the stairs.

So Lucerys was then again dragged out of the party, bright red in the face, with an equally bright red brother pushing him in the car, before he drove away, leaving both Cregan and Aemond behind. They drove in silence. They never even looked at each other until a few hours later, but they never talked about it. They got home a little later than usual, which Jace quickly covered saying traffic was horrible, and after a few kisses from their mother, got sent to their rooms for bed.

They were not expecting Aemond and Cregan on their doorstep the morning after.

[lurafita]

If I ever were to write a Malec AU inspired by the Leverage series

If you are not familiar with the Leverage series, here a very short synopsis: former high profile criminals form a team of vigilantes and use their unique skills to help the people that have been screwed over by the system.

Alec, in my head, is a cross between his canon personality, and his TWI personality. Meaning he may come across as ooc in specific instances. He would also be crushing on Magnus from the get go (as in, he has been crushing on him for a while before they see him in the room with Valentine) Okay, so basically the scene I have in mind is the crew watching the life stream of Valentine’s consultation with his court appointed lawyer. The scene starts with whoever is watching the stream, let’s say Izzy, seeing Magnus enter the room and calling over the others.

Izzy: “Oh no. Guys! We have a problem!”

Jace: “What’s wrong?”

Alec: “... That’s Magnus!”

possible other crew member: “Who’s Magnus and why is he a problem?”

Izzy: “Magnus Bane is one of the best lawyers in this country.”

Jace: “And also the guy that Alec here has been crushing on for like a decade.”

Alec: “It hasn’t been a decade, shut up!”

Izzy: “And as today is the day that Valentine was scheduled to meet with his attorney, it seems that Magnus Bane is the legal representative in question.”

possible other crew member: “So this Bane guy is in league with the scumbag?”

Alec: “No. Magnus would never do this to me and the kids.”

Jace: “He doesn’t even know you exist. And what kids?”

Alec: “The ones we will be adopting once I get up the nerve to ask him out!”

Izzy: “I’m sorry big brother, but if it turns out that Magnus is in Morgenstern’s pocket, I cannot give you my blessing to pursue a relationship with him.”

Alec: “Hey, we don’t have all the information yet. Let’s just see what happens.”

focus on the video

Magnus: “Mr. Morgenstern. My name is Magnus Bane, and Judge Dieudonnè has appointed me personally with your case. But I’m pretty sure that you know that already.”

- Alec: “See? I knew Magnus couldn’t be in league with someone like Valentine. Stupid judge.” -

Valentine: “And why would you think that?”

Magnus: “Mostly because I no longer practice criminal law, so I shouldn’t have been in the rotation for court appointed legal defense to begin with.”

Valentine: “Hm. How curious. Well, I’m sure the judge just wanted to make certain that the best defense is available to a law abiding citizen. And if the rumors are to be believed, you are the best.”

- possible other crew member: “So wait. If this Bane guy wasn’t supposed to be a possible pick for Morgenstern’s defense, does that mean that the judge is in cahoots with Morgenstern?”

Jace: “Who even says cahoots anymore? That is a good question, though.” -

Magnus: “It seems we have a different understanding of the term ‘law abiding’. The list of charges against you and your organization is as long as it is disturbing. And frankly, I believe that you are guilty of each and every atrocity you are charged with.”

Valentine: “I thought you lawyer types believed in ‘innocent until proven guilty’. Almost all the evidence against me is circumstantial.”

- Izzy: “Yes, which is why we cannot afford for Valentine to have as good a lawyer as Magnus fucking Bane!”

Alec: “Maybe we can discredit the judge? Get Magnus released from his appointment?” -

Magnus: “Call it a gut feeling. Anyway, while I couldn’t outright deny Judge Dieudonnè’s request, I am allowed to decline the assignment after an official meet with the client. I have now officially met you, and I’m afraid to say that I don’t feel comfortable with defending you. Have a good day, Mr. Morgenstern.”

- Jace: “Alright, bullet dodged. Congrats Alec. Looks like your man is one of the good ones.”

Alec: “Do you think I should ask him out in that little cafe he likes to go to on wednesdays? I could buy him his favorite drink to start us off with, but I don’t want to come across as stalkery.”

possible other crew member: “Yeah, you knowing that he has a favorite cafe he visits every wednesday isn’t stalkery at all.” -

Valentine: “Should you really treat me like that, if you truly believe that all those heinous allegations against me are true? Shouldn’t you be worried about possible repercussions, in that case?”

- Alec: “Did he just threaten my future husband? Okay, that’s it! I’m getting into this prison and then I will break every bone in his body!” -

Magnus: “Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Mr. Morgenstern. I grew up as the only son of one of the richest, most influential, and morally bankrupt men in this state. I have been threatened with ‘possible repercussions’ my entire life, and I have endured and survived quite a few of them as well. You are a pathetic, hideous excuse for a human being, and for all the lives you have ruined, I sincerely hope that you will rot and slowly die in the most awful prison they can find for scum like you. As long as that is a viable outcome of your incarceration, I don’t care what you do to me.”

- possible other crew member: “Damn. Okay, that was hot. Not gonna lie.”

Alec: “It will be a spring wedding. He loves halloween. If I propose to him then, we will have enough time to plan everything so that the spring flowers will be in full bloom by the time of the actual event.” -

Valentine: “You know what? I actually believe you.”

Magnus: “Goodbye then.”

Valentine: “Can you say the same about Ragnor Fell? Or Raphael Santiago? How about Catarina Loss? Or her cute little daughter. What was her name again? Right. Madzie.”

- Jace: “Did he just…?”

Izzy: “Threaten Magnus’ loved ones? Yeah, he did.”

Alec: “I’m going to fucking kill him!” -

Magnus: “How did you-”

Valentine: “I bet you are already running through your options on how to keep your little found family safe. Bring additional blackmail charges against me? - Now that would only make me more angry, wouldn’t it? Get your friend into police protection? - If only you could be sure that I don’t have people under my thumb in the police. Fly them out of the country? - But do you really know how far my organization and allies reach? And would the threat against them be over with as soon as I face my sentence? What’s it gonna be, Magnus. Your friends, or my freedom?”

- Izzy: “Fuck.”

Jace: “Okay, we need to get on top of this like yesterday.”

Alec: “Contact the other teams. We need round the clock protection for Magnus and his family. We have to find and take down Valentine’s allies and underlings, in and out of law enforcement. And we need to do it before Valentine’s trial starts and Magnus is forced to represent him.”

possible other crew member: “Guess that first date you have been planning is gonna be sooner than you thought.” -

[aphroditesmoon]

stuck on a puzzle

agent!jacaerys velaryon x agent!reader (modern au)

summary: jacaerys reunites with his first love as they are partnered up for an assassination mission.

warnings: bit of angst, everyone is aged up.

a/n: I'm BACK!! did y'all miss me?

---

Jace thumps his feet nervously as he sits outside of the office, your voice and his mother's mixing in an obvious argument.

You hate him.

That must be it, there can't be any other reason you'd refuse to work with him this badly. He always knew your reunion with him would be a bit awkward at least, but he didn't predict it'd be this bad.

He breath fastens when he hears both voices slowing down into hushed whispers before it turns silent. The door slams open and he almost flinched. You stomp out of the room with more calmness than he expected.

Without glancing towards him or stopping in your steps, you spoke; "Read over the files, we're going through it this weekend at 9."

He opens his mouth to reply but you already out of his reach. When he glances back to his mother's office, she's leaning againts the doorframe eyeing him sternly.

"This is an important mission, no funny business, I don't care about your little trouble in paradise." She starts.

Jace sighs loudly rolling his eyes as his anxiety starts to fade away. He stands up and slings his jacket on his shoulder, preparing to leave.

"There is no trouble- or paradise." He ends it at that before kneeling down to pick up a fallen bracelet and walking away.

---

You have never told anyone about why your relationship with Jace ended, and neither has he.

It didn't feel necessary at the time. You were moved to King's Landings while he stayed in the Dragonstone center, it was highly unlikely that you two will meet again.

But after Lucerys has gone missing during his assassination mission with all trace of his journey, Rheanyra has decided to partner you up with his son to find out what's going on, find Luc and kill Aemond Targaryen.

You had suggested Rhaena go instead of you but Daemon had insisted she'd be to emotionally overwhelmed seeing that it's her boyfriend that's missing.

Which is funny, considering they don't care much about how emotionally overwhelming it'd be for Jacaerys, who was Luc's own brother.

Your reading through Aemond Targaryen's files and he obviously seemed as bad as everyone said he is.

Mass genocide, military weapons supplying. Some even said he killed his own brother Daeron for his land and power over the military.

What truly interested you however was his missing eye.

There had been an attempt 6 years ago during an event, it has obviously failed as he's still alive, but he had lost an eye that night from his attacker.

You know there's something Rhaenyra hasn't been telling you, and she knows that you know too. And usually you don't really care much about minor details, but whoever this man was, you didn't want to try your luck by underestimating him.

There was a reason Rhaenyra would avoid having you under her charge, you weren't easy to deal with, you don't work well in a team. The only person so far that has manage to put a leash around you was Daemon, and that didn't mean it was easy for him to do it either.

You tuck in the papers back into it's folder before walking towards the sink to wash your finished coffee mug.

It was half past 2am and to say that your decisions past midnights have always been rash and irrational was an understatement.

Because next think you know, you're searching up your ex boyfriend's name in your contacts.

---

He would never decline a call from you. He could be dead in sleep, deaf to his mother's repeated misscalls. But not even five rings in from you, he's wide awake, the answer button a tap away.

"What happened?" He gasped out from his sleepy state, instinctively assuming you're in trouble. "What do you mean?" He calms down at your relaxed voice and lays his back on the headboard.

"It's 3 in the fucking morning and you just called someone you'd rather die than look at, what's wrong?" He repeats again.

He hears a cough from your side of the line and the sound of you moving.

"It's about the case-"

He groans.

"Fuck's sake Jacaerys, I'm not stupid, your mother share the same last name with that lunatic and now your brother is missing, years after a failed assassination attempt on him? Your can't just ask me to do shit without filling me in, you need to talk to me." You pressed desperately.

"Oh so now we're talking?" Jace immediately regrets the words as soon as it came out. You had all the right to shut him down, but he couldn't help himself that it still hurts him.

He hears you sigh loudly, purposely trying to annoy him.

"Well, we have to do what we have to, don't we?" He physically winces at your words. He deserved that blow, his own words againts him.

"What do you want to know?" He gives in.

"I'm not wasting my cell bill, come over tomorrow." You decided.

"Yeah sure, look- I'm going back to sleep now. And you should too, it's not like that caffeine actually works on you anyways." Before you could get a quip out, he hangs up.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the drowsiness despite knowing it's a lost battle.

Washing your hands in the sink, your eyes glances at the dried coffee mug before you give in to your body's needs and walk out of the kitchen to your bedroom.

---

You opened the door before he could knock for the third time. Refusing to take him in your sight for too long, your eyes drift to his sling bag and the cup of coffee in his hand.

"Hey." He spoke first.

You didn't welcome him with any words and instead moved away from the entrance to let him in before locking it closed again.

You ignore his awkward standing in the middle of your hall as you walk into the kitchen. "Do you want breakfast?" You offered as nonchalantly as you could.

You feel his presence behind without follow d by his quiet footsteps. Jacaerys' eyes drift towards the burnt sausages with a surprisingly well made omelette.

"Uh- yeah um no thanks." Of course not.

You both take a seat opposite eachother. You were pulling out information papers from your files, not wanting waste any second, but as you look back up at him, he pushes your golden bracelet towards you at the dining table.

"It fell when you were walking yesterday." He explained, eye contact barely lasting for a second.

You immediately snatch it from the table.to put it on again. "Thanks, I've been looking for it."

He nods understandingly, awkward silence slowly creeping around the both of you.

You cough shortly, shaking yourself out of the trance. "Anyways, I have some questions."

"I'm sure you do. Why else would you be waking me up at 3 in the morning." You roll your eyes. "Well, why did you answer me?"

"I was worried I had to bail you out of jail again or something." He says simply, an amused look lingering in his eye.

Gods you absolutely hate him. You wish you could smash his face into the omelette and lick the egg off his face-

"Don't flatter yourself Velaryon, I'd rather deal with Daemon's wrath than you." You snapped, getting angrier when you notice his smile only widening even more.

"Now who is Aemond Targaryen." You ask.

"Brother of Aegon Targaryen, second on line to the Targaryen throne, mass murderer, war strategist-"

"I'm going to shove this fork down your throat."

He only let out a suprised laugh cut short when he realized you're not joking. "Alright then- um, well if you're asking how he's connected to me, His mother is married to my grandfather."

Your eyes widen for a split second before you immediately composed yourself. "He's your uncle?"

He has a look of distaste on his face. "Step uncle." He corrects. You frown at him while taking a sip of your coffee. "That's not a thing Jacaerys."

"Yes it is shut up- Anyways, since his mother married my grandfather, their family and our pretty much distanced ourselves from eachother. It's mostly because of my step grandmother-"

"Just call her your grandmother-"

"Alicent. Her name's Alicent. Let's just call her that- Well she and my mother don't get along very well. She's has a very pious and straight way of thinking I guess you could say? and she basically can't agree on the way my mother views things."

You give him an amused look as you lean back againts your chair.

"Her children are mass murderers." You stated. He only shrugs at you.

"If your family and theirs are basically a whole one by blood, why aren't there any information about any of you related to them?" You ask.

"You're asking this as if we don't hack into systems and kill people for a living." Jace deadpans.

You roll your eyes at his sass and pushes your seat back as you stand up. "Come on, I need to show you something." You tell him as you walk upstairs to your room.

Halfway through the stairs you notice he wasn't with you. "Are you coming?" You called out. The abrupt sound of chairs screeching indicates that he's finally getting up towards you. You turn back to your front and walk to your room, leaving the door open for him to enter.

It's not like leading the way is necessary, he already knew every bit of corner in your home.

As you're fixing up your laptop, he enters quietly and takes his place behind your seated self. Jacaerys leans forward and frowns at the screen.

"How the hell did you get your hands of the camera footages, we just got assigned this yesterday." He questions suspiciously. You smirk to yourself when the footages finally coming me together.

"We hack systems and kill people for a living, Jacaerys." You mock him.

He snorts, and you could tell he was shaking his head from behind you. "Sure, and what exactly am I looking at besides Aemond's big arse mansion?"

You spin the chair to face him. "I've been looking through the footage from 3 days before Lucerys disappeared and specifically 24 hours before it happened through Aemond's house and office cameras. I even have his fucking basement footages." He waits for you to continue.

"Luc's house as well as his belongings are perfectly tact and safe, Aemond's been in and out of his office as usual, no suspicious trips out of ordinary actions." You explain to him carefully.

"I'm not getting your point." He says blankly.

"My point, is that Aemond's alibi is strong, too strong to have him be blamed for Lucerys' disappearance, even if he did rip out his eyeball years ago."

Jacaerys tried and failed to hide his suprise at the last sentence. "How di-"

"I'm not stupid Jacaerys, none of you are as smart as you seem, I think what happened last time should do you well as a reminder." Of course, you would never waste a chance to shoot him right where it hurt.

He swallows visibly before acting as if you never said what you did. "Are you saying his kidnapping has nothing to do with Aemond?" He asks.

You shake your head, feeling yourself fall back into the mask of a calm person.

"Oh, Aemond has everything to do with it alright, I'm saying he got someone else to do his shit for him." His eyes widen as you watch the understanding fills him.

You pull your laptop to the edge of the table and beckons him to look into the screen. Jacaerys leans closer, his forearm againts the chair as he squints at the screen of Aemond Targaryen's empty office.

"Look there, on the table. What do you see?"

He stares for a few more second before lifting his head up and cursing loudly. "I should've fucking known."

Pushing the laptop back, you turn to him with raised eyebrows. "That answer all your questions?" You joke. "Yeah, most of them."

"You know, come to think of it, I'm really just helping you all solve your own damn family problems. A one hell of a dysfunctional family problem." He sits by the edge of your bed and let out a low chuckle.

"We really are, aren't we?" You hummed.

"We all knew how much Vaemond never wanted Luc to inherit Driftmark's Legacy, but I didn't expect him to go this far, he's not just betraying our family, he's betraying his own, he's betraying Corlys' and Rhaenys by siding with Aemond." Jace shakes his head in disbelief, his head looking up slowly, lettimh your eyes meet eachother's.

"Hm, but it makes sense doesn't it? Two people who have all the selfish reasons to want Lucerys gone." He nods distractedly. you could tell how this new information was eating him up from inside.

"Well, at least that's one mystery we've solved." You concluded. You doubted he was even listening, his brows were furrowed in a frown, he was too deep in his thoughts.

"He could be dead by now." Jacaerys speaks suddenly.

You bite your lower lip, body tense, not knowing how to respond to that.

"Yeah, he could be."

He laughs out suddenly, a soft spontaneous laugh. Looking up to you, his smile doesn't dim a bit. "You're really shit at comforting people."

You don't notice yourself returning his smile. "Who says that's what I'm trying to do? Maybe I'm just here to make you feel worse." You shrugged.

Watching his gaze softening towards you, an overwhelming sense of uncomfortable nostalgia hits you. You can't stand the way he's looking at you, as if you're anything he could ever love.

You sigh to yourself, blinking away the torturous feelings. "It's getting late, you should head home before mommy comes looking for you."

There she goes, he thought to himself.

"Make sure to be on time this Saturday, and try to dig up some information of Vaemond's office security and basement entries to see if we can sneak in somehow." You order him, time turning stern.

"I live 5 minutes away from HQ, and yeah, sure boss." He mutters, annoyed.

When he leaves your apartment, you could feel yourself relax again, no longer having to be on guard of your emotions anymore.

You despise Rhaenyra for pairing you up with him for this.

For a mission so vulnerably dangerous for him, and for you to be there to witness every single one of his emotional process, too hyper aware of it all, and too damn stubborn to try and do anything about it

[nrilliree]

No, but are they really making fun of me at this point ?

https://www.tumblr.com/darklinaforever/747425529666355200/your-post-about-alicent-being-in-the-center-of-the?source=share

They all have problems leaving this type of well-meaning message under my posts, while making sure that I can't respond to it afterwards to prove themselves right ?

Once again, I have nothing against Olivia Cooke. She's even an actress that I really like (since I saw her years ago in the series Bates Motel), I've said it in several posts, and I've also already designated Olivia Cooke by name in other posts. I made a simple unintentional omission in this one.

Especially since I in fact actually also called Olivia by her name in this post, or I'm supposed not to have done it at all :

No point trying to create a ridiculous conflict with the actress against whom I have absolutely nothing. I didn't even say anything that might insinuate that I was accusing her of playing a role in the way marketing was run. Plus I literally also made a post about differentiating actors from their roles and that you can hate a character while loving the actor.

Are they being stupid/not knowing how to read on purpose just to make themselves look good ? They look absolutely fucking ridiculous trying to defend the actress when I haven't said anything bad about her. Big freaks.

Oh my god, sometimes I say "the actor who plays xyz" because I don't remember some of the actors' names 😱 You could point a gun at me and I still wouldn't name the actors who played Helaena, Jace, Luke, Laena, Laenor and the vast majority of the characters except these the main ones that are most talked about on tumblr. This must be an insult to them… I don't even have to visit @drunkchickpea or @starfallalyshightower's blog to know they're on TG. This is just another example of people coming to a blog that is clearly pro-TB on every side and nitpicking whatever they can. I myself saw posts on your blog in which you write about Olivia Cooke as Olivia Cooke and if they want, I can link them to them. Picking on words is the best example of the lack of any arguments. They do this or insult you personally like some other people we know (unfortunately) on this platform, because they have nothing constructive to accuse you of. It's funny. So you have absolutely nothing to worry about because you haven't done anything wrong. Where's the hate? Olivia Cooke plays the character Alicent, so calling her "Alicent's actress" is basically naming her after her job title. That's her job. That's what she does. She is an actress. And she plays the character Alicent. This is funny 🤦‍♀️

[anarchypumpkincowboy]

So we all know Porter’s got the jacked up pick up truck, and Jace definitely has a motorcycle. Now I want you to imagine a dark winter night. A snowstorm is coming in. They’re on a back road in the middle of nowhere.

There’s no one else around and they’re both being absolute asshole drivers to each other. Porter’s got road rage, and Jace is just being a bitch to be a bitch. Maybe he's had a few drinks. For whatever reason Porter's getting pissed the fuck off from this little shit on a motorcycle swerving between the lanes. He's revving the truck, he's riding his ass, but every time he tries to pass him Jace will swerve in front.

Now imagine they're coming up on a curve. They both know its there, but neither are slowing down or chilling out. Jace hits a patch of black ice. The swerving veers him right off the side of the road into a deep ditch, and Porter slams on his breaks, jumps out of the car with a flashlight, and starts making his way down the side of the ditch. He wanted to teach the dude a lesson sure but he doesn't want him dead. And the snowstorm's really picking up by now, the temperature has dropped to well below freezing. If he leaves that little shit's as good as dead.

Jace had been thrown off the motorcycle, but he couldn't've landed in a better spot honestly. He's pretty banged up. One leg is definitely broken, and moving the flashlight up it's looking like at least one of his arms is too. He's still conscious though, trying to push himself up and failing miserably. Porter snaps at him to quit moving or he'll make it worse before gently, oh so carefully, feeling him over for any more serious life endangering injuries. Not immediately finding any, he moves to pick him up, being careful with his head and removing his helmet, he starts walking them back up to his truck.

He'd planned on going back and grabbing the motorcycle but it's completely totaled at this point. But anyways he lays Jace down in the backseats and tries to secure him as best he can. The roads are too bad to get all the way back to town, let alone to a hospital, and Porter's already used up all his spell slots. He has a cabin close by though.

He takes them both to the cabin. Jace has been wavering in and out of consciousness the whole drive but he was coherent enough at one point to say his name. Porter gets them inside. He gets Jace out of his wet clothes as gently as he can before laying him down on the guest bed. Grabs some extra blankets and cranks the heat up. Does what little he can for the injuries before he can rest and use lay on hands.

The next morning after he's had some healing Jace is looking a little better, but he's still pretty injured, both of his arms had definitely been broken and he'd cracked a couple ribs too. And the cabin is completely snowed in. Even with Porter's truck there's no getting out of here for a few days at least. Guess Porter's stuck taking care of an injured little shit who just so happens to have the prettiest golden eyes he's ever seen. And hey maybe this accident's taught the little elf a lesson about driving recklessly through a snowstorm on a motorcycle

[fruityuncleskeletor]

Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

seen on and snatched from @bunnakit

🎱 ⇢ post your AO3 total stats 

🍓 ⇢ how did you get into writing fanfiction?  I started writing my own stories about cartoon characters because the episodes on TV were too far apart

🌵 ⇢ share the link to a playlist you love

Chan's room episodes

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that? a fucking solid 2, because the more I see my own fic, the more disgusted I grow with it and lose the will to post it. The 2 is because I do realise editing is necessary.

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help? I am calling @hardcandythinking but only to vent, I already know where to rent a woodchipper from

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love @ellieellieoxenfree

💌 ⇢ how many unread emails do you have right now?  in my business inbox, 51. In my personal account, 0

🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis@sparkly-butthole-on-ao3

🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?  I used to be really into writing the OG characters

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before I have come to terms that I will always have an eating disorder, the difference now is that I've decided to profit from it.

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time? I am fucking exhausted, fam. And the supreme lack of interest in my writing in this new fandom. Feeling unwanted and tired has managed to give me a writer's block that I have successfully dodged for 20+ years.

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Here's two-

Geralt and Jaskier are so in love with each other, even platonically. They don't want to admit it, but they have a really warm and cozy love bubble around them and both are afraid that if they speak about it, it'll make them feel less giddy and elated and pull this bubble into reality, making it vulnerable to being popped by evil forces.

Jace's nonchalant attitude re: the people he bangs and his unflinching love for Alec always made me think he is an in denial asexual - he is obviously not sex-repulsed but he wields sex like a weapon or like a quick fix to avoid looking at deeper emotions affecting him. I fucking love Jace to death, he gets so little credit.

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual?

talk to me on tumblr

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

My cat's health is better

I am losing weight and gaining muscle, feeling fitter than in my 20s

I found a hairdresser I absolutely love going to

📚 ⇢ what's the last thing you wrote down in your notes app? some Korean words for reference. In Korean.

  🍬 ⇢ post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character Yennefer is a gigantic selfish asshole, with only moments of emotional clarity and kindness and she treats Geralt like absolute crap most of the time.

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project? yeah not gonna make the FBI man's job easy. stay wondering, bro!

🦷 ⇢ share some personal wisdom or a life hack you swear on

It's always better to assume people are assholes by default and then let yourself be pleasantly surprised when they are decent than the other way around. Saves you a world of disappointment.

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

I can't pick rn.

🌿 ⇢ give some advice on writer's block and low creativity

The only way around it is through it. It helps to do various other creative things, it will recharge your creativity in the realm you feel it's low in. Like if you have writer's block, make some art. Draw some shit, splash some colours, bake and decorate a birthday cake, go outside and photograph some flowers.

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh "My butthole! I blew out my butthole!"

  🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work? When someone picks their favourite parts of the chapter or fic, and details their thoughts on it for my enjoyment.

🍦 ⇢ name three good things about a character you hate Alec is a good leader, perseverent and insightful.

🥝 ⇢ do you lie a lot? what's the most recent lie you told? God I used to lie more often than I breathed when I was a kid and a teen. Lately I just lie to get out of having to socialise.

🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately 

I find stanning a K-Pop group to be 20% fun and 80% disheartening if you're older because you definitely feel like you can't sit with the cool kids and everything is just a really good, hi-def illusion set up to make you bust your wallet wide open, so every moment of genuine relatability and connection is invalidated by the feeling that these people are part of a marketing strategy. It's kind of like going to see strippers and even if you like one, you know that even if you fell in love with them, you're not allowed to get to know them because for them it's just work and you are only worth the cash you pay in their eyes. The closeness is an illusion that leaves you feeling even lonelier and sadder than you were before.

🦴 ⇢ is there a piece of media that inspires your writing?  There are a lot of them but my core reference is Anne Rice's writing. Now I am writing something that was inspired by the portrayal of Jack Reacher in the "Reacher" series on Amazon.

🍅 ⇢ give yourself some constructive criticism on your own writing It would be nice if I could write stuff that's relatable to others, not just to me. But that would mean biiiiiiiig consciousness shift and I'm extremely pussilanimous when it comes to this.

🐚 ⇢ do you like or dislike surprises? I think the delivery matters a lot - a surprise is being told something that you don't know yet, and if the person breaking the news makes it seem like a heart attack from shock is the adequate response, then better don't tell me, just show me.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

Hyunjin had made himself comfortable on his bed, with his legs propped up on the headboard, leaving just his shirt and his socks on. He intended to drag it out as much as he could and get the most out of those pics.

Magazine in one hand, dick in the other - that’s how Changbin had found him, walking in to ask a very pressing question. (65 words bc just the 50 didn't make sense alone.)

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username? Thinking about my love-hate relationship with writing.

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

@hardcandythinking is my bestie and my number 1 fan. She's the real MVP.

🌸 ⇢ do you have any pets? if you do, post some pictures of them

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by 𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐀 🌻 STAYTIST (@kerimaix)

This is so surreal - Chan is a human with two sets of ears and the rest of the members are tiny wee animals - and the love, goofiness and fun are so well captured. This artist also depicts Chan as shy and cute, and I prefer this to the hard dom or arrogant inaccessible guy takes I see more often. Like I get it's appealing to others but I like a squeaky, shy guy better than any alpha dude character.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

poor characterization on a macro level

crass and goofy consistent misspelling like "nobbing" instead of "nodding", "viscous" instead of "vicious", "colon" instead of "cologne"

offputting descriptions like "chubby little cock" or "fat mushroom" (used for dick tips). I would lose my erection if someone talked to me like that irl

[animatorweirdo]

The rabbit in the moon

The sound of the gun from your past continues to haunt you in your dreams, so you decide to take a walk outside. You meet Maglor and end up telling a few stories about the moon.

Warnings: nightmares, arguing, mentions of getting shot, getting lethally wounded, scars, lack of sleep, fluff, reader rambling modern world stories.

Chapter 4

-------------------------------------------------

Everything felt distorted again. You couldn’t see or move. However, you could hear noises around you. They were muffled but loud enough for you to recognize them as voices. They sounded angry, and you had a feeling that anger was directed at you. One particular yell woke you up, and all became clear. 

You found yourself standing in a familiar living room. It was so familiar you knew the place immediately. It was Camilla’s and, by extension— your home. You could recognize it anywhere since you spent the rest of your childhood and teenage years there after your family’s death by the skinwalkers. 

“(Name)! You can’t go out with that boy!” you were nearly startled by the voice of Camilla’s mother, who was looking at you with a familiar angry expression. “It is already bad enough that you convinced Camilla to keep quiet about your plans to go to a ridiculous prom, but now you’re going out with him on dates? That is unacceptable!” she said, and anger filled your chest.  

“I don’t see what’s the big deal! It’s just one prom!” you said back. 

“The beast, child! The beast is the problem—if something happens, you will be a danger to yourself and everyone else!” she said, her tone getting louder. You rolled your eyes at her. “I highly doubt anything serious ever happens at proms,” you stated. 

“A lot of serious things happen out there! The normal humans are known to create chaos out of nothing! It is too dangerous for you. What if that boy finds out about your curse?” she questioned, and you were near to yelling back at her till Camilla’s father came between you two. “Calm yourself down. Let us not escalate the situation with pointless yelling,” he said, gently pushing his wife away from you. He then turned to look at you. “(Name). You know we’re just worried about you? The normal people are not known to be kind toward anything different, especially if it appears evil in their eyes,” he questioned. 

You exhaled tiredly. “Seriously! It's gonna be fine! Jace doesn’t have an idea, and it’s only temporary since he’s gonna go to a college literally across the country. We’re never gonna see each other again, so why can’t I enjoy this while I still can?” you asked in frustration, “I’m not allowed to do anything else, so why can’t I enjoy something as simple as this just once?!”

“Oh, (Name). It’s not like that…” Camilla’s father said softly with sorrow laced in his voice. 

You hear a bing and see a notif on your phone, a message from Jace —telling he was there to pick you up for the movie date you planned together. A sense of relief and joy subsided your angered state. 

“He’s here. I’m going to the movies,” you walked toward the door.

“Hold it right there, young lady! We’re not done here,” Camilla’s mother snapped at you. “For fuck’s sake! It’s just a movie! “ you yelled back at her after texting Jace. “It’s not like I’m gonna get shot by a fucking lunatic,” you took your jacket then opened the door — only to be faced by a shotgun to your face. 

Your heart stopped beating as you stared at the barrel in horror. A loud shot echoed throughout the room, followed by screaming. 

A gasp escaped as you woke up. Your eyes frantically looked around the room, and you felt your chest with your hands, searching for any possible wounds. When you felt nothing but old scars, you calmed down. A groan left your mouth after you realized what had happened. You were woken up by a dream again, which was a memory. And it was the middle of the night as well. 

You stared into nothing as you thought about the dream and your foster parents. The dream felt different. If you remember correctly, there was a lot more yelling and disagreement about your little movie date with Jace. 

You thought about your foster parents. Camilla’s mother had always been short-tempered, and her father was a bit of a pushover, but they were right. However, a bad thing happened after that argument, and you nearly lost your life. 

You glanced through the window, seeing the moon shine brightly. A sigh escaped as you got up from your bed. You might as well go out to catch some air since you knew you were not going to fall asleep anytime soon. 

The wind brushed against your hair as you walked to the local garden that wasn’t too far from your little apartment. The moon and the stars gave light, and you felt refreshed despite the certain coldness the wind brought from the mountains. Luckily, you were wearing a jacket and a blanket around your shoulders, so it wasn’t nearly that cold. 

You walked and watched as some of the flowers bloomed after their long slumber through the winter. They were still buds, so you were eager to see them finally bloom and bring color to the lonely stone-gray garden. 

A familiar bench comes into your sight. You take a seat and look at the night sky while eating a little snack you brought along. The stars and the constellations you knew glimmered while silence filled the void around you. You were used to it since it gave you time to think and contemplate your life alone. It was one of the most prominent things you had in your life. 

You could quietly hear the gunshot and the screaming again. Two sounds you had never forgotten since that day. The day– you nearly died. 

Pulling your blanket and shirt slightly to the side, you gaze at one of the old scars on your shoulder. There were many more scattered across your chest and abdomen. You could feel them slightly ache whenever you thought about the day you received them. 

The shooter shot you right in the face and with silver nonetheless. Silver is not enough to kill a wendigo, so the beast was left unharmed, but since its presence technically corrupted your body — you were left with wounds even the Frost Breath couldn’t heal. 

Death was nearly inevitable, yet somehow you survived. You were told the Frost Breath did activate and kept you alive, giving you enough time to be rushed to the hospital held by supernaturals. You got lucky but got left with scars that never healed, a reminder of that day and your mistake. 

Your mind continued to wander about the incident. You fell so deep into the thought that you failed to notice Maglor approaching you. 

He observed as your eyes continued to look into nothing. He took careful steps before laying his hand on your shoulder while calling your name. 

“(Name),” he softly said, but you still jolted. 

You snapped back to reality and stared at the elf before you. “Oh, Mags. It’s just you,” you sighed, relaxing your shoulders. “How about you start wearing bells so I’ll know you’re coming?” you asked with a teasing smile, which earned a chuckle from him. “I don’t think even with the bells, you would notice me coming before I unintentionally startle you,” he said with a soft grin. 

You rolled your eyes in amusement as he sat beside you on the bench. 

“Couldn't sleep again?” Maglor asked. “Yeah… I saw another dream, and it didn’t really end well,” you replied. “It was a memory…a very old one,” you added as you gazed at the moon. 

“Hey, have I told you about old myths and stories about the moon we have in our world?” you pointed out. 

“I don’t think so…go on,” Maglor answered, leaning against his hand.

A smile graced your lips as you were filled with a sudden rush of energy. “Alright. There is a common story about a rabbit on the moon, where either a god or a group of men gets lost in the woods and ends up very hungry. The animals of the forest took pity on the men and tried to feed them with whatever they could find. There was a rabbit who was unable to find anything. It kinda felt bad about it because it wanted to help the men, so in a selfless act — the rabbit decided to sacrifice its body to feed the men,” you explained while Maglor listened, nodding his head from time to time. “Those men were touched by the rabbit’s selfless act and revived the little creature. As a reward, the rabbit’s shadow was engraved to the moon so all could forever remember its story. In some other stories, those men were gods and gave the rabbit a chance to become a god as a reward, and some silly things happened, and the rabbit decided to take its forever home on the moon,” you pointed at the moon. “Interesting,” Maglor commented. 

“One of my favorite stories is about the Japanese god Tsukuyomi, where he attended a feast held by the food goddess. All was fine, and the food looked great, but then he became suspicious of the food goddess’s constant disappearances—” you said. “What happened?” Maglor asked. “Well—Tsukuyomi decided to follow and found the food goddess pulling the food out of her body, and I mean out of her mouth, nose, ear—” you grinned as Maglor dramatically gagged. “Ew, that sounds disgusting,” he said, making you laugh. “So thought Tsukuyomi. He was apparently so grossed by the sight. He turned the food goddess into food herself and banished her to the mortal realm, where she would later be eaten by humans,” you added. 

“There were some rumors the food goddess did it out of spiteful mischief, but the sun goddess Amaterasu, in some stories – his wife, did not like that and banished Tsukuyomi to the other side of the world, creating the night and day,” you finished while Maglor listened with a smile. 

“It’s one of my favorites because the whole thing is kinda silly if you think about it,” you said. “We have a lot of stories about gods and myths, but anything related to something silly and the rabbit in the moon are my favorite ones,” you glanced at him. 

“Well…I’m always willing to hear more of these stories,” Maglor stated.

“You sure? You do not get tired of my rambling?” you asked. “Not at all. I enjoy hearing you talk about your world and its stories. You look happy when you do…” he said with a sincere gaze, making your heartbeat a bit faster. It was nearly an unfamiliar feeling that filled you from within, but you did recognize it as joy. 

You softly laughed it out. “Well…I had a lot of free time to learn and hear most of the stories. I wasn't much allowed to do anything else, ” you said, gazing at the moon. It was silent for a moment. 

“Anway… I think I’m gonna try to go back to sleep. I kinda feel more sleepy after talking so much,” you said as you stood up from the bench. “So…I guess this is a goodnight if you elves do have a similar sleeping schedule,” you said which made him chuckle. 

“Are you certain you will be fine? I wouldn’t mind singing to you since it had helped you sleep before?” Maglor asked. “I…will be fine. We do have potions that make me unable to dream, so you do not need to bother yourself with my sleeping,” you shook your hand in dismissal.

“Nonsense—” he shook his head. “If you want me to sing—just ask–because…” he stopped. “Well…with you, I have been able to sing something beautiful once in a while,” he looked into your eyes with a soft smile. 

Words refused to come out of your mouth as you did not know what to say. Your heart drums between your ears, and you feel blood rushing to your face. You don’t think you have ever heard something so sweet. 

“Uhmm…I… didn’t know I had such an effect on you,” you said with a smile. Maglor smiled in return, making your heart race even faster. Oh god, you needed to get out before you possibly passed out from all the blood rushing in your system. 

“So goodnight!” you said rather timidly. “Goodnight. I wish the rest of your night will be peaceful!” he said, and you nodded before turning around and nearly bolting out of the garden. Maglor looked after you before returning to his own place. 

You nearly speed-walked back to your apartment while your heart pounded against your chest, and an obvious flush decorated your face. You stopped, taking a deep breath before continuing your walk. 

Your mind couldn’t stop thinking about Maglor and all the things he said. He said them with such a clear yet soft voice that they couldn’t have been said just to make you feel better. God— the feeling was so intense you could pass out. The sense of longing also came back. 

You stopped to take a breather and forced yourself to calm down and think straight. Fearful yet hopeful thoughts wandered through your mind. For god’s sake, you might actually be falling for him. It was no longer just mere crushing. 

The gunshot suddenly echoed in your mind, making you flinch and remember what happened last time when you fell hopelessly in love with someone. You pushed the feeling away. Even if the idea sounded amazing, you couldn’t do it. You can’t fall in love with him. It didn’t end well last time, so it might not end well this time. He was also an elf, so it's a match not meant to be. You continued to walk back with those thoughts in your mind. You just — couldn’t do it. 

[im-out-of-it]

part 16 (the longest part I’ve ever had) of season 2, episode 11 of “mea maxima culpa” continued

160. I love this parallel

161. I love my fav lightwoods

162. Alec is just not having a good day

163. I feel for Alec because all he wants to do is protect the people he cares about: magnus and Izzy. these are the most important people in his life and when he feels he fails Izzy, it makes him feel not that great of a brother. so the fact that Izzy didn’t tell him right away about the addiction, and that Raphael and now Sebastian saved Izzy, and not Alec himself- it makes him feel lousy. or that’s how I imagine Alec to feel. he’s been the big protector of everyone he cares about and those he doesn’t

164. I don’t know how true this is and it’s not my theory but someone pointed out that when Sebastian’s hand did this, it somehow mirrored when clary couldn’t use her rune. I doubt that’s why it didn’t work. I think her mind is just clogged knowing she likes Simon but prefers jace and doesn’t have any family left or so she thinks

165. poor Izzy doesn’t know what his deal is lmaooo

166. this is basically the beginning of clace 2.0 🤢

167. I mean, in fairness she did just get used to being siblings with Jace. I don’t care what anyone says, it’s still weird that they got together thinking they were siblings. (I feel like I forgot the Izzy one but I may not have but I can’t trust my brain)

funny jace saying this because I don’t think he processes anything. he just goes and does whatever the hell he wants next

168. “Magnus”: of all beings I could be, it’s this?

it’s actually ironic how much valentine is jealous of the downworld to the point he wants to take their power away and now he’s in a downworlders body and he’s like ew this whole thing is disgusting. bro pick a side already (possibly some homophobia but I could be overreaching. Valentine is in a bisexual body and he probably hates that too. he’s obviously racist but I don’t know if he’s homophobic too. but I’ve never seen him treat really anyone with respect) (only thing he respects is that fucking soul sword) (valentine, you wanted powers, now you got them for a while)

169. what I hate about the episode: I hate that Alec tells Magnus to stop him. I think they should’ve had Alec try to get to Magnus at all costs even if he was in pain. they show us how much Alec loves and admired Magnus but execute that shit as well.

I hate everything about clace and I think they should’ve stayed friends. I don’t buy their we are obsessed with each other love. Clary is insufferable but I think in a way (as others have pointed out) she’s not as insufferable as she is when she’s with Jace. they could’ve given clary some actual growth and tried to make her likable.

I hate that jace is the one to do anything because of course he needs to be the hero 🙄 I saw his golden eyes for one second and that was one second too much

170. what I love: Malec investigating together. it would have been nice to see them investigate more and spend more time together. it’s never enough for me. I like that when Alec helps “Magnus” up, he starts to notice Magnus isn’t acting right but he’s not putting it together yet.

I feel so sad when “Valentine” is like help me, that’s really Magnus. he’s going to be in so much pain and trauma

I like Maia and Simon making up but I don’t like how he treats her at times as if he’s better than her- all in the name of saving clary. you’re lucky that it was Maia and not another downworlder because they wouldn’t have spared her.

I’m probably forgetting something but my dumbass can’t quit blacking out but anyways this episode was a 8.5 on my rating. I fucking love azazel. he’s one of the best villains and i wish the show featured him more. his magic, his accent, I mean the man is hot. seeing Magnus go up against another powerful entity was fascinating to watch. the pentagram, (DAMN YOU HARRY BLOOPER BECAUSE IF MY MIND SAYS PENTAGON ONE MORE TIME LMAO) how it lights up dark red and Magnus’s magic gets darker the more he uses of it was also very interesting to witness

I want to like this storyline with Malec but so much could have been done for it. I hate that Alec just trusts jace when jace is the last person he should trust but here we go, up to episode WHY THE FUCK DID THEY DO THIS TO MALEC

so 170 was the number for this episode and had the most parts so far. the more content, the bigger the parts. that’s it for Malec is investigating azazel is in town and ew make jace fucking leave already discussion post. I’m going to do a little miniseries with Magnus and then will start the first part momentarily but probably later today 🥹

[bookishjules]

Here I am again ....the one with the Simon in the wild bestie

Hehe it's so sweet of you to invite me over for tea 😄

So yeah for the Morgenstern essay I still haven't typed it out ...but it's basically like Clary (protagonist) and Sebastian (antagonist) both were Morgensterns. It's a tainted name in the shadowhunters community right? So my point is something isn't always inherently bad ...it's the circumstances or the fate (or the plot 😗) which makes them bad. Now for Jonathan/ Sebastian bro had been going through torture for all his life as the demon blood burns shadowhunters. He was Raised to be a weapon unlike Jace who was atleast taught other stuff. Upbringing matters a lot in shaping those characters, shaping their powers. Like for comparison if you look at Jace when he was a Wayland...when he was a Morgenstern....when he is a herondale... there's a slight difference in the way he's written or the way he fights ... he's still the same Jace but there's this minute difference you'd notice. So basically the background you're Given also matters a lot ...which happened with Sebastian. If he was given a non-Valentine life/ background....if his blood wasn't infused...if he was brought up in a normal way he'd have definitely led a better life As a Morgenstern and wouldn't have been the one manipulated into being the villian .... maybe he'd have still turned out to be a antagonist who knows. But atleast throughout his life he'd have felt light the way he felt while dying. Maybe clary's fate would've changed if they grew up as siblings who knows. The Morgensterns we've seen till now are all fucked in the head fr. Like even Clary could've gotten her villian arc easily...the clave anyways did not trust her as she was a Morgenstern.

To sum it up ....I feel Morgensterns have a dominant dark side n would be the bad guy ...but you always get a choice to choose your path even if you're blinded by the fate

(I hope my word vomit made sense....I mean these were basically facts which already existed I just typed out my thought process)

Oh for the guy thing ... nothing romantic is going on in plain sight but there gave been moments... really sweet ones. Oh btw last week I sent him the thing I wrote which said 'i want to be written about ' .....as my bday gift guy wrote for me ..which made my day

Anyways I hope you're doing okayyy ヾ⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠*⁠)⁠ﾉヾ⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠*⁠)⁠ﾉ

The nature of last names in the shadowhunters world is such a compelling one, and you're right, it's absolutely something of a metaphor for choosing who you become, who you are. Even during ascension, there's a certain amount of this. You pick a name that you want to be like. You don't pick a name like Morgenstern.

Except... There's also an amount of reclamation when it comes to last names. Gabriel and Gideon worked hard to make the Lightwood name mean something good again after their father tainted it, and I think a large part of their ability to do that comes from Tatiana denouncing the Lightwood name at the same time.

A name doesn't dictate personality, of course, but it does have a certain sway in how you are treated by other shadowhunters, which of course, informs the way you act. It's a whole thing in developmental psychology; natural/genetic temperaments garner certain reactions, which then controls how a child is parented etc., which then has a hand in which other personality traits etc. come to the surface. I think this is very similar to how shadowhunters are raised according to their last name, and how, so often we see a change of name being an indicator of a change of self--because it can be difficult to change when you are still being perceived a certain way.

As for where this leaves us with the Morgensterns... Green-eyed Jonathan is often associated with the last name Fairchild, and I think the reason why is clear. There's an amount of hope there, for a person who never got to be a person--that he would turn out to be better than the man who raised him. And if he had been raised a Morgenstern, even without the demon blood, I do think it would have been more likely for him to become an antagonist, than if he had been raised a Fairchild, simply because one name has a much more negative connotation than the other--especially in the time that Jonathan was being raised. People would have treated him differently as a Morgenstern than they would a Fairchild.

If we're following the logic that somehow Valentine was not a presence in his childhood, this would all have to circle back to Jocelyn, and her decision whether to keep her husband's name or not. I do think there could be scenarios where she did, but I would be more inclined to believe that she would at the very least return to being Jocelyn Fairchild and raise her son with the same name. No, this wouldn't make him immune to the reactions of other shadowhunters, but I do think the choice to step away from the tainted name would be recognized and acknowledged in a positive way. We see a little bit of the opposite happen with Clary, iirc, when she takes up Heosphoros, but she was already at a point, then, when she was ready to treat Morgenstern in a similar way to how Gideon and Gabriel would have treated Lightwood after the events of TID.

It would be so interesting to see how such reclamation would have played out if Clary and Jonathan had been raised as siblings. Would Clary see the way her brother was treated for a name he didn't even use and get angry for him? Would Jonathan work hard to be a good example for his sister, a good steward of the family he was born into? Or would it be something of the opposite? Or would they ever even try to reclaim that name? No Valentine means no "Sebastian" means no continued conversation surrounding the name Morgenstern...

I guess what I'm saying is that maybe there is an inheritable darkness in the Morgensterns, but I think it's possible that the name does as much, if not more, than the genes themselves. Morgensterns have been the bad guys, so they will be painted as such, and future Morgensterns will then have an inclination to fill the shoes and be the bad guys.

Sorry for such a long response!! That essay of sorts really sent some gears spinning I guess lol thank you for sharing!!! (Also happy belated birthday!!!!!! <33)