#just a lot of really intense combat moments

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Can’t stop thinking about dnd aus for multiple fandoms it’s actually a problem

[elliesbff]

“i need you.” — abby anderson

hi hi! sorry it took me so long to get to this second part, i’ve been going through a lot mentally and have just been trying to get my head around things. i genuinely hope this teeters to your satisfaction ♡ thank you for all the likes on pt 1 !

summary: after tending to neglected needs, it takes 5 words to turn the tables. notes: nsfw, scissoring, oral sex, (r!receiving) fingering, (r! receiving) slight dacryphilia, a bit of hair pulling, softdom!abby, sub!reader. wc: 2,793 | tags: none

read pt 1 of " i need you " here!

moments prior,

abby’s braid slid graciously past her shoulder as she pulled away from your short lived embraced, already missing the warmth of her sun kissed skin. it seemed like she was in a hurry, scurrying out of the gym in the blink of an eye. as you took a moment to gather yourself, you realised that she’d left her bottle behind, and her bench remained uncleaned. you stood there dumbfounded, what could she have planned that was more important than gymnasium hygiene? after all, it was her that taught all you know.

when you were nothing but a baby wolf, abby took notice of you as a new recruit and instantly saw potential in you, taking you under her wing and training you like hell to fulfil your true abilities. although you were nowhere near as burly or as experienced in combat as her, you were quite good with weaponry and crafting, as well as adapting to your surroundings, making do with what you had on you during critical times.

she calls you ‘the scavenger’ when you were not present. it was her unique way of honouring how far you’d come since joining the WLF, how she paved the way for the indestructible soldier she firmly believes you’ll grow up to be one day. it’s also just her adorable little nickname for you that she beckons nobody uses in her place.

she has the upmost faith in you. growing closer with each patrol, each gym session, and sometimes just casually hanging about the FOB or at each others rooms. your friendship was something others envied; it was pure, full of trust and built upon mutual respect. but those closest to you knew it meant more than what first meets the eye.

abby was out of sight in the blink of an eye, you look around in a suspicious daze, trying to follow her whereabouts. she was quick, but not quicker than you.

you had a long-overdue session to finish, but abby looked relatively… uneasy. something was wrong, and you could feel it. the line between instincts and curiosity began to blur as your feet developed a mind of their own, your duffel bag and towel long gone as you’d already turned the corner outside the gymnasium.

maybe you were overreacting, maybe it was overkill to automatically assume the worst was happening to her. but if something was really up with abby, you wouldn’t live it down if you didn’t initiate help.

the look on abby’s face as you stared at her through the firmly rimmed glass, her beautifully arched eyebrows furrowing only ever illuminating her intense eyes — a million thoughts a minute ran through your mind, instinctively charging for two heavy silver doors and up a random stairwell. you could smell the scent of pine and sweat — that was definitely abby.

all reasoning for your unexplainable shenanigans flew out the window as you approached abby’s room, a series of shuffles followed by a supposed muffled voice echoed from the opposite side.

your hand hesitantly reached up to knock, only to realise the door was never locked to begin with. abby could never be that careless, — maybe manny, but regardless — she would sometimes recall times where she’d have to remind him to lock up before leaving during your sessions at the gym. she’d never make a mistake she so harshly scolded people for.

your face inches closer to the door, the cool solid wood sending a kiss of shivers across your exposed shoulders as it welcomingly swayed open.

with each step, the unintelligible noises grew much clearer, and it was becoming more palpable as to what that was entailing.

you’re heart only dropped to your gut at the sound of your name, uttered by a helpless, whining mess.

“please… please.”

the door conditionally, and gently swayed closed on its own behind you, a little clck locking the door in full as you took a couple steps closer. was this a figment of your twisted imagination? the soft whimpers and subsequent cries of your name begged to differ. it was no secret now. abby had a thing for you. you were almost too afraid to move as each whine only grew more vehement.

with a couple more stalled footsteps, you froze at the sight of abby, completely ruining herself at the fate of her own hand.

your eyes widened instantly, the warm air prickling your eyes as would salt water. seeing her all ruined over the thought of you was enough to lift your hands over your mouth in keen disbelief.

you attempted to gather yourself, debating whether or not confronting her on this was the best idea — but no normal person would just walk away and forget this ever happened — forgetting the image of abby anderson, issac’s top scar killer, ramming her slick-covered fingers inside her wet cunt all while repeating your name under a dumbed spell? it’s not something that can just leave your mind at the drop of a hat. it certainly wouldn’t later, neither.

while lost in your thoughts, your tense arms dropped to your sides as your feet followed closer, the sound of your boots shuffling against the smooth concrete floor not catching her attention,

“abby?”

you watched as her oceanic eyes shot open, the abby you once believed would simply chuckle and brush off the idea of this, now scurried to find something, anything to cover her herculean figure, freckled arms still just poking out the sides.

it took more than an ounce of self control to not let yourself run wild at the fact that the abby anderson had a rather strong fancy for you, not to mention she was fucking herself to the thought of you.

as your initial astonishment subsided, your body beamed with want. seeing abby flushed and heated clouded your acclaimed critical thinking.

“…can i have a turn?” slipped from your lips after tending to abby’s own neglected desires.

and here you were, moments passing almost at the speed of light. you laid flat on your back, tits perked up from the arch of your back with abby towered over you. her estranged braid slid off her shoulder with her eyes staring you down. your neck generously splayed with bruises and bite-marks, only reminding you that she’s been wanting this for god knows how long. unbeknownst to her, you did too, you just never believed you’d live to ever experience it.

her hand lightly grazed over your tit, meticulously attending to your swollen nipple. her thumb teased at it, rubbing the area in circles to provoke a much anticipated and equally expected reaction. with her hand on your chest and her lips returning to attack your already purpled skin, you stifled a whine, bottom lip bit between your teeth. she kissed along your throat, from the point of your jaw to the crook of your neck.

she continued toying with your body as her tongue traversed to your waist, laying another round of sloppy kisses to your hip bones and abdomen.

it was like your skin grew ten times more tender whilst under her touch, each breath of hers against your skin feeling like a gentle tickle, accompanied by her large and surprisingly delicate hands palming your tits, it was growing to be too much, too much being your style, anyways.

her hand left your chest to firmly grip onto your hips, pulling you closer to her lap. she took her already soaked fingers, prodding at your pussy like you’d done previously. your breaths grew shakier with each flick of your clit.

her eyes returned to that intense, fiercely glare from back at the gym, so that’s why she was so concentrated, or rather in her own dreamland.

her tongue laid a generous coat of saliva along her lips, staring at your pussy like the starved woman she was. for how long she’d ached for this, you had no clue. this was bound to be a moment to remember.

your cunts were practically hugging each other, the feeling of being so close to her pussy only added fuel to the fire that gleamed in your core. the longer abby stared, just taking in your breathtaking body, the stronger the feeling of being exposed grew.

her head dives below your eye view, feeling her nose bump at your clit. she savours it, her tongue peeling out at an antagonisingly slow pace as she glares at you through her arched brows. she could taste it all, her juices mixed with yours..

your hand gently took rest within her blonde locks, hooking into the back of her braid.

“abby,”

you huffed, sounding more like a plead than anything. with each soft, trembling breath, she’d drag her tongue along your cunt in sync.

her face would dig further into you, arms slithering to wrap themselves around your thighs. even if you begged for her to slow down, your needy hole that clenched around nothing, desperate to be touched, told her otherwise.

abby would stare at you longingly, finally able to die happy between your tensing thighs as she rapidly swabbed your clit with your tongue, dragging it along in circles and the likes.

your body jerked at the sudden change in pace, back arching instinctively off the bed. the whole lower half of your body fired up, tingly and numb. her muffled grunts sent you haywire, violently gripping onto her hair. she was like a leech that wouldn’t let go, sucking and lapping around that sweet spot like her life depended on it.

“stop squirming.” abby would demand as she shoved your hips back onto the mattress, not once detaching herself from you.

you could barely comprehend anything she’d say as she was practically suffocating herself between your thighs, and you’d both be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

abby teased your cunt with her fingers, carefully slipping her thick digits inside of you. your legs squeezed around her head at the sensation of feeling so full. her fingers, let alone hands, were thicker than yours. and they felt much more fulfilling.

your moans would blend harmoniously, both equally experiencing pleasure from the other as you climbed the ladder of your climax.

abby’s suppressed grunts would only ring through your ears. where was the abby that was so shamelessly call out your name moments ago?

your grip on her hair tightened, practically dragging her face along your cunt to accumulate as much friction as your body desired. her fingers would work wonders, unforgivingly pumping in and out of you as her tongue would rub against your clit. each time she would flick against it you’d jolt, back arched with a shy hand over your mouth.

in a matter of seconds, abby had pulled away — both her tongue and fingers. just as you were about to reach the peak, you’d tumble down with your high dropping in seconds.

“wh.. why’d you stop?” you breathed out, tears that rimmed your eyes beginning to dissipate.

as if abby could read your thoughts, she placed a leg over yours, dragging your helpless body closer to her. your cunts were mere centimetres apart, the slick that built up from your pleasure mixing with hers.

“wanted to rile you up..” she muttered, her beautifully eager smile spreading from ear to ear as she strategically began kneading her pussy against yours. abby let out a stifled whimper, her perfectly toned arms pulling your leg almost over her shoulder.

you whined as she slowly dragged her pussy back and forth. the only thing ruminating through your mind in the moment was how you wished you’d done this sooner. way sooner. if given the opportunity any earlier, you’d have jumped at it like an animal in heat.

tears generously coated your plump cheeks as abby picked up the pace, she muttered curses under her breath with each drag of her swollen cunt. it was evident she was close, her arms would needily latch onto yours in an attempt to pull you closer than you already were.

the sounds of timid whines and skin slapping echoed through the room. you hoped that nobody would mention a peculiar series of moans to you or abby the next day. but all you could focus on was her slick engulfed thighs, her chest and the hickeys that’d covered her tits. her neck that was equally as bruised, and her face that contorted into a smile once she noticed you were staring.

“this feel good?” she asks, a sudden grunt spilling from her lips a second after.

all you could do was nod. you were afraid once you spoke, you wouldn’t be able to stop. abby, abby, abby, abby, was all you could think of. how strong she was and how easily she could throw you around if she wanted to, how easily you could tug on her braid while she fucked you dumb. it drove you insane how she wanted you and nobody else. she fucked herself to the thought of you and nobody else.

she disapprovingly shook her head, slapping your thigh playfully.

“mm mm, i don’t take nods, use that pretty mouth,” abby grinned, her cunt grinding viciously fast against your own. you whined dumbly, the pleasure overpowering your body. you felt numbing tingles along each cell of your body.

you whined shamelessly loud, “it feels.. so good.” abby’s face enlightened, her hips picking up pace from your undying cooperation. anything for her to keep going.

she squeezed a handful of your thigh and massaged it, letting out her pent up urges that she was only able to let out now.

you dumbly mumbled a bunch of nonsense yes’, keep going’s and abby’s, initially climbing the tower of climax yet again. and abby was, too. as much as she tried to hide it, nothing could excuse how her hips would dig into your abdomen from how quick she practically humped your cunt.

abby held your thighs close to her, gaining the upper hand in creating more friction. her clit would bump against yours almost ever second. both your whines enveloped the air around you as the coil inside you snapped, your pleasure releasing out into a white pool underneath you.

but abby was far from finished.

she pulled your hips closer, with pussies rubbing against each other and whines echoing through the walls. you wouldn’t doubt for a second that someone could hear you.

with more than a couple grunts and calls for your name, abby came down from her own high, her hips faulting and slowly grudging to a stop.

you both panted relentlessly. you swore if she kept going you would’ve came a second time at the snap of a finger.

trying to regain your breaths, abby lets out a chuckle.

she doesn’t say anything, but she shakily pulls herself off of you, propping herself up by her elbow next to you.

a sudden wave of embarrassment washed over you as the reality of both your actions settled in. there was no hiding your attraction to one another now, none of this would’ve happened otherwise.

the never ending pining, hanging out one on one every chance you got and saying it was ‘just to train you’. you don’t know why you were surprised at the fact that abby would think about these things behind closed, or more so unlocked doors.

“..so?” abby’s voice was soft and meek, her hand fidgeting alongside her waist as her head rested on her other hand.

you hesitantly locked eyes with her, your previous shyness fading away as she planted a kiss to your forehead. something as cheesy and cute as a forehead kiss was enough to make you blush, subsiding all the things you both just did.

“..that was better than i expected.” you finally replied. abby’s eyebrow quirked, head tilting to the side.

“oh, so you thought it’d be bad?” she kids in a sly tone, that familiar smile returning once more.

you playfully punched her arm in response, the both of you knowing in reality, it felt like heaven on earth.

“does it look like it was bad?” you poke back, pointing to all the hickeys and bite marks along both your bodies.

only now did you realise how much of a mess you made. there was cum all over the bedsheets, saliva all over your cunts and what not — this place was really overdue for a cleanup.

you chuckle as you examine the aftermath.

“we should clean up..”

“we?” abby questions.

“i don’t mind, i made it too, no?”

abby couldn’t argue with that. she sighs, pulling you up and off the bed so you could both clean up. not without peppering your body with kisses first.

[neptuneiris]

Wild Hearts | (One Shot)

'you, it's always been you'

pairing: prince!aemond × lowborn!reader

summary: you and he can't be together, yet the two of you have fallen for each other. but the Gods are not merciful and you both have to let go. but by comparison, your charming prince doesn't think the same way you do.

word count: 8.6k

next part • main masterlist

this is the new idea that I was talking about hehe🤭

i hope you like it a lot and first of all, i want you to know that there will be part two and nothing else. so enjoy this, dig it and let me know your opinion that is the most excited i am to read❤

enjoy and thank you so much for your support beautiful people!

warnings: angst, sex content, arranged married, minor mentions of cuts and blood, smut but not so elaborate.

The Gods can be cruel.

And for some time they have been cruel, especially to you.

You are a lady, yes, but not of a great house enough to be worth anything really big and significant. All your father can offer the Realm is a few soldiers, horses and you.

You are the only daughter of an arranged marriage trying to find their place among the Court. And when you are born a woman, your duty is to marry a suitable man, please him and give birth to as many children as possible.

That was your purpose in coming to King's Landing after Queen Alicent approved your stay at the Red Keep and you became a lady-in-waiting to the highborn ladys who also remain at Court.

But no one, not even you, could have prevented that those plans would no longer be a priority for you the moment you met Prince Aemond Targaryen.

You knew of the one-eyed prince's reputation, as well as his brutality in combat, his cold behavior and also of his recognition as the rider of the largest dragon in the world. But most of all, you knew that his disinterested and sometimes mean personality... was due to how he lost his eye at such a young age.

But that was what he wanted to show all the people of the Court and its visitors.

After such humiliating years of trying to prove himself while at the same time listening to whispers and rumors about him and the pity he caused people for losing his eye, Aemond had no interest in pleasing the Court, so he was just mean, disinterested and cold.

But with you it was all different.

Perhaps it was being alone for so long that he finally got tired of himself and let you in and see his other side, his true side that very few were privileged to see. After all, you were just a lowborn lady who had lived her whole life with the same duty as him: to please the Realm and fill its needs.

But even he never imagined that you and he would understand each other so well.

The gleam of his violet eye, charged with an unusual intensity and determination, the effect he made you feel when you looked back at him and saw his patch covering his left socket and the way he spoke and behaved with you, triggered a wave of unknown emotions and expectations in you.

Your first casual encounter with the prince began in the library, where you exchanged literary tastes. You revealed your fascination for the history of the Andals, as well as shared with him how interesting you found the stories of his family, the Targaryens.

And he shared with you his admiration for history and philosophy as well.

Your casual encounters with him continued in the library and before long, those encounters extended to walks in the gardens. Those walks became a mostly secret habit, where you not only shared equal opinions about books and history, but where you both got to know each other a little more.

And despite the growing friendship and the bonds that intertwined with every conversation and interaction, the weight of undeniable reality persisted.

However, neither of you stopped.

On some trips he had to make, on every return he would always bring some gift for you, whether it was a piece of jewelry or a new book that you don't have access to, to leave secretly in you chamber. Or he would even surprise you with a rare flower that is not seen in the Crowlands, handing it to you so delicately while you tried to keep the blush on your cheeks from being so obvious.

You too tried to look casual when you went to the training yard just to watch him train discreetly, admiring his skills and in every fight smiling proudly every time he made his opponents surrender to him.

And in the midst of everything and everyone, his violet eye always met yours.

At banquets and celebrations it was also the same. The two of you couldn't engage in conversation as such, at least not alone, so all night long, you could only exchange glances and act like complete strangers.

But in the occasional places where the two of you meet and no one else is around, you can act completely free.

He shared with you the story of how he claimed Vhagar, told you more about the history of his ancestors, even taught you some High Valyrian words, while you, who in comparison to him do not possess anything as great and exciting as he does, share with him your thoughts, dreams and tastes.

You both became friends. You became the friend he didn't know he needed and you definitely didn't expect someone like him, especially him, to enjoy your company so much.

And during those years, you couldn't blame the Gods for falling completely in love with the prince.

That was your total freedom and decision, even though you knew how impossible the situation was and that the two of you could probably never be together.

Your house is not worth enough to allow a union between you and a prince of the Realm. It was also useless to suggest it, because the answer would be no, both from the Queen and from your parents, who would have been totally pleased.

But Aemond is destined for more, you know that. And that more is definitely not you and not even close.

And despite this, you couldn't help but imagine as a fleeting dream the moment when he and you unite and become one. A dream that will never happen in which you finally become his wife and you can call him yours, just as he can also call you his, in body and soul.

But that dream is finally shattered when they announce the official betrothal between him and Lady Floris Baratheon.

It was something that was eventually going to happen, you knew it was going to happen, but still, the news takes you by surprise and your heart breaks into pieces, while everyone around you rejoices at the news and approves.

The days following the betrothal announcement become dark and sad for you. You retreat most of your time in your chamber, not having the mood to go out and face the Court, much less him.

And when you had to face the daylight, your steps became stealthy and sparse, trying to keep your distance as much as possible and avoiding any possible encounter with him or anyone else from the royal family.

Aemond of course realized the distance you took and respected it. Not because he knew exactly what happened, but because he thought you had other important matters that did not allow you to share your time with him.

It wasn't until an audience at the Court where the Queen and the Hand of the King attend to the needs of the people, that Aemond finally caught a glimpse of you. But you didn't return his gaze even for a moment. And it is only then that he tries to understand the reason for your distancing, but your eyes avoid any eye contact with him.

You spend several days living in the same way, until one silent morning, Aemond finds you in the library all alone. He knows this is not your favorite time to read, nor is it his, so to say you are avoiding him is clear at that moment.

He opens one of the doors gently and closes it audibly enough to get your attention. He sees perfectly how your whole body tenses and nerves are reflected in your gaze, as well as discontent.

That especially catches his attention and with more purpose he wanders deeper into the library, watching you completely intently and in search of an explanation, wanting to know what he has done to make his presence before you now uncomfortable and annoying to you.

"My prince," you say politely enough, bowing your head to him, but already wanting to leave.

You certainly did not expect him to appear and now you only try to hide from him as much as you can so that he avoids looking at the disappointment on your face.

"My Lady," he says, still with bewilderment in his gaze, taking a couple of steps towards you, "It is good to finally see you after so many weeks without your presence."

You force a small smile, lowering your gaze.

"It's good to see you too, my prince."

His closeness begins to unsettle you, feeling each step he takes towards you as an echo of emotions you'd rather keep hidden. And this is exactly why you desperately seek a way out, a convincing excuse to get away from him.

"If you'll excuse me, my prince, I must retire," you decide to say without further ado, hoping that it will work, "I wish you a good day."

But you only manage to move two steps forward when he quickly blocks your path.

"Wait."

Instantly you watch him intently and in awe, feeling your heart begin to beat too fast, as he looks at you confused and hopeful.

"You've been... absent lately," he says, his words laden with a mixture of confusion and longing.

You swallow hard, averting your gaze from his for a moment. You don't even want to look him in the eye but that would be rude and not appropriate behavior in front of a prince. So you have no choice.

"Yes," you say in a mumble, trying to find an excuse quickly, "I-I've had to take care of some important matters with my family. Also, my responsibilities at Court have kept me occupied with the ladies and other engagements, which has left me less free time, my prince."

And despite your explanation, really not at all convincing, Aemond can't help but feel annoyed.

"And will you stop saying that?" he inquires in a low tone and you watch him in confusion.

"What do you mean, my prince?"

"Exactly that, my title," he points out deliberately, "There's no one else here, it's just you and me. I don't understand what all the formality is about."

You press your lips together, again averting your gaze from him, as you as well as he, feel that tension between the two of you, a tension completely unfamiliar and one you have never felt before in each other's presence.

You had never felt uncomfortable in his presence and you had never wanted to get away from him before.

"I apologize. It was not my intention to offend you," you observe him with a serious expression, "If you'll excuse me, I have to leave now to attend to an engagement."

Again you try to walk past him and head for the library doors, but Aemond prevents it once again, blocking your path and pushing you back with his determined and clearly annoyed gaze.

"You are avoiding me," he sentences, firm with his words, showing his inconformity, surprising you, "Nothing is the same between both of us anymore and your explanations don't justify it," he says, with annoyance in his voice and a determination, "Did something happen that I don't know about?"

He asks, watching you with a restrained fury, mostly to see how you try to escape from him, while you press your lips together, trying not to let your look show your pain, disappointment and resignation.

But his gaze clings to yours with an intensity charged with longing, wanting to know, while the silence is uncomfortable and you feel again that tension between the two of you. Until finally you decide to break the silence to not quite answer her question, still evading it.

"This is inappropriate. We shouldn't be alone."

You say without looking him in the eye and that only increases the anger inside him more, watching you without understanding.

"Why the shyness all of a sudden?"

You bite your lips, feeling the discontent all over your insides as you say your next words.

"You are betrothed. People might think badly of you and me if they see us here alone."

"Oh, please Y/N," he tells you incredulously, annoyed, "You're acting ridiculous."

"Aemond-

"Why this sudden concern for appearances?" he questions, his tone infused with irritation and annoyance, "Everyone knows we're close, we always have been, and now it's inappropriate?" he inquire, not understanding.

You let out a short breath, closing your eyes for a moment, really not wanting this to be any harder than it probably will be.

"You don't understand," you murmur sadly, biting your lips, "You are betrothed now," you observe him with the resistance to cry in your gaze, "Now there are limits we cannot cross. And it would be best if this were no longer to go on," you say with a lump in your throat, "Your gifts and our meetings must stop, for the good of your future marriage and out of respect for your f-future... wife."

The weight of your words are felt in your tone, with sadness invading you as you utter them, as well as the ending of this... friendship.

Again the heavy silence hangs between the two of you, laden with a sadness and helplessness that neither of you can control. And although Aemond doesn't fully understand your reasons for distancing yourself from him, he knows there is something else that he still can't quite figure it out.

"Y/N, if you're upset because I didn't tell you about the plans my mother and grandsire had for me-

"No, no, I assure you it's not that," you hasten to say, hiding your sadness and disappointment, "It would eventually happen, wouldn't it?" you shrug, trying to smile genuinely towards him, but you can't, "You must do your duty and I will too, sooner or later," you say, lowering your gaze.

Aemond is speechless for a moment, watching you and nothing else, still feeling the guilt inside, while you struggle to contain your true emotions and shout to him in that moment that you love him, let him know once and for all, though it won't change anything.

"Y/N..." he murmurs, his barely audible voice full of bewilderment and a hint of pain, "Still I didn't want to-

"No, no... it's not your fault," you say again quickly, struggling to keep your composure, "Truly, it's all right. I should leave now."

He lets out a sigh, lowering his gaze for a second to look at you in concert with longing and concern.

"Can we please talk about this? I don't want things to end up like this between us."

"Don't worry," you try to smile genuinely at him, but rather a grimace appears on your lips, "I'm sure we can meet in the hallways and talk at the feast."

You tell him in a confident and assured tone, but even you know that won't be true.

"Oh and... hum... congratulations on your upcoming nuptials," you say with a lump in your throat and a forced smile on your lips.

To you, the falsity of your congratulations echoes in the air, a subtle echo of disappointment and resignation flooding your heart. Aemond tries to say something with the right words, but you don't give him the time as you finally move forward and no one stops you, each step echoing with the heaviness of what could have been and was not.

But just when you think you've managed to get far enough away, a hand gently lands on your arm, once again stopping you.

"Wait, please."

Aemond's voice sounds full of urgency and longing, making your breath catch for a second. And when you turn to look at him with the clear resignation and sadness in your gaze, his look reveals a mixture of torment and determination, frustration as well.

"I did not wish for this, Y/N," he confesses truthfully, his voice soft and emotionally charged. "It is not my desire to marry Lord Borros' daughter. That is not what I wish for myself."

Your eyes fill with tears as you hear his words, surprise in your gaze. And he stares directly into your eyes with despair, as if his thoughts are trying to be conveyed through his gaze.

And even though you have nothing to say regarding that, he continues with a confession that takes your breath away.

"Y/N..." he whispers, his expression heavy with longing. "If I had a choice, if the decision were mine, I would not hesitate in....

His words hang in the air, causing confusion in you for a moment, but as you watch him closely, his gaze speaks for him.

He watches you with attention, longing and hope, adoringly seeing the way your beautiful purple dress highlights your figure and beauty, with those precious and discreet jewels adorning your neck and fingers... his woman.

He shows you his affection and expresses it simply by observing you that he doesn't need to say anything else aloud. The meaning of her words is dispersed between the two of you, revealing a shared desire and a deep connection.

As you, upon understanding, surprise and hope collide within you, leaving you breathless at the implicit, yet clear revelation. Emotions intertwine in a whirlwind of feelings as the weight of his words sink deep within you. Your heart only beats faster, unable to believe what you are hearing, as time seems to have stopped, unable to speak.

And only then there, you can feel joy in knowing that your feelings are reciprocated, but the pain of knowing that it is now too late, simply ruins everything and fills you with pain.

"Why are you saying it until now?" you whisper with your voice broken and your gaze lowered.

"Y/N, please-

You don't let him say anything else, as with a lump in your throat and tears streaming down your cheeks, a sight Aemond doesn't like to see, you turn away from him more quickly and walk out of the library, leaving him alone with the weight of these confessions and unspoken words.

Also with a heart full of regret.

The news of your courtship came weeks after the last time you spoke to Aemond in the library.

You definitely did not expect to hear that at all, as you felt like you had been unexpectedly punched hard in your stomach and a sharp pain settled in your chest as your father spoke complacently about how he received two advantageous offers for the asking of your hand, Lord Ronan Redwyne and Lord Alan Beesbury.

Despite your father's efforts to express the importance and political benefits of such possible unions, to you it was as if the air itself had become heavier and stifling.

Only on this occasion the Gods had been good to you, as both men are the same age as you, so the fear of having to marry a man who multiplies your age and was surely going to be bad to you evaporates.

But still, you feel trapped and obligated.

Of course, your parents are quick to push you to start having conversations with both men to see which of the two is the most suitable for you.

Lord Alan, with his refined presence and gentle smile, known to be a skilled knight, is kind and very gentlemanly. You always see his attempt to make you feel comfortable with his presence, also in the topics of conversation that arise between the two, telling you about his home, his family, some stories and sharing some wishes with you.

You appreciate that, as you can tell he's doing his best, but even so, your mind reels at the thought of him being the possible candidate to take your hand, which adds another layer of complexity to your situation.

The same goes for Lord Ronan.

Despite his kindness, chivalry and the attractiveness of his face, you find no peace in the situation. You don't even care that they are both advantageous for a future marriage, all you want is freedom, to wait a little longer until you heal.

But at least you are being given the choice, a privilege not many women get from their parents when it comes time to marry and simply sell them as a trophy to the first advantageous man.

"It's a beautiful day, don't you think, my Lady?" says Ronan, breaking the silence between the two as you stroll through the Red Keep gardens.

"Yes, it is," you reply with a forced smile, lowering your gaze, keeping your pace slow.

He watches you intently.

"I just want you to know that I am eager to get to know you better, my Lady," he tells you gently and formally, "And any questions you have about me, you can tell me. Also any thoughts you have, I will be pleased to hear them."

You nod politely, feeling a little uncomfortable about the situation, unable to help yourself. And though you truly appreciate Ronan's kindness, your heart still yearns for something that now eludes you.

As you continue the walk, you strive to find something in Ronan, anything, just as you do whenever you are in Lord Alan's company, but you always fail. And even though neither of them is a bad man, you know that they too are caught up in choosing a future wife that is not entirely of their choosing.

"I thank you for your kindness, my Lord."

You say in a sincere voice, looking him in the eyes for the first time since you had started the walk,

"And also for your interest. Not many men are interested in the thoughts of women these days."

Ronan places a kind and understanding little smile on his lips, nodding in your direction.

"There is nothing to be thankful for, my Lady. And I know it's only a short time since we've begun to know each other, but I enjoy your company."

You nod again, keeping your gaze straight ahead, unable to help but feel how you still feel overwhelmed by the weight of courtship and the fact that you will soon marry him or Lord Alan.

And at the same time, reality dawns on you with undeniable clarity: Ronan and Alan are good men, but neither is him.

While both may be honorable companions, your heart still yearns for someone you can't have, feeling utterly sad and resigned, because it's not fair, not to the two of them either.

But how can you make those feelings go away fast?

And just when things couldn't be more unexpected for you, as you turn down one of the bush paths along with Ronan, you both find yourselves face to face with Aemond accompanied by Lady Floris at his side, who were walking in the opposite direction.

And the air is enveloped with immediate tension.

You knew that eventually the news of your courtship with two possible candidates to give your hand in marriage would reach Aemond's ears, but when your eyes involuntarily meet his, you see only dissatisfaction and restrained fury.

This triggers a whirlwind of emotions within you, trying to disguise your surprise and discomfort, also nerves, as well as you try to focus on your companion, trying to move on and appear unaffected by this.

"Lady Y/N," Lady Floris greets politely with a smile, breaking the silence, "Lord Ronan," she address him, "How lovely to see you both this morning."

"Lady Floris," you reply, trying to remain calm, then look almost fearfully at Aemond, "Prince Aemond," you tilt your head slightly, biting the inside of your cheek.

"My Lady," he answers you in a soft tone.

Ronan at your side also greets Lady Floris in a respectful manner, then turns to Aemond.

"My prince."

"Lord Ronan," says Aemond, in a dismissive tone, observing you attentively and at the same time in seriousness.

Aemond's tone does not go unnoticed by you, with an intensity on his face that does not go unnoticed either, as you struggle to remain calm in the face of the uncomfortable situation.

It is clear that Ronan's presence at your side does not please him at all.

As Lady Floris at his side, she attempts to carry on a polite conversation, oblivious to the tension that has taken over the moment.

"I would like to offer my best wishes to you both on your courtship," Lady Floris begins to say kindly, "Fortunately the prince and I are in the same place as you and understand what it can be to have expectations high in families if you decide to join your houses."

You feel more the knot in your stomach and the discomfort all over your body, not daring to say anything regarding that, while Aemond remains just as silent as you.

And fortunately Ronan is the one who appreciates Floris' gesture, while Aemond keeps his eye on you with an expressionless but penetrating gaze, also watching Ronan from time to time.

"Thank you, my Lady," Ronan replies courteously, "Your words are most kind and we wish you both well in your future marriage."

"Of course. We hope to see you both at our upcoming wedding," Floris adds with a kind and visibly excited smile, while you again feel your heart give a painful jump.

And since you say nothing, nor does Aemond, Ronan hastens to speak.

"Of course, my Lady. We will see you there."

With pain in your eyes, your gaze involuntarily drifts to Aemond for a brief moment, where he is already watching you. And in that fleeting moment, the looks in both of your eyes convey more than words can express.

With a polite bow, the four of you take your leave and each pair continues on their own way.

You try to focus on your steps along with Ronan's, but the echo of tension and unspoken feelings leave an unpleasant sensation throughout your body. And that's when you hope that soon, both you and he will find peace in your respective futures.

But it didn't look like that was going to happen anytime soon. Neither did acceptance.

Aemond continued the rest of his walk with Floris in the gardens with his mind still focused on the encounter with you and that boy clearly unworthy of you. He didn't even pay attention to what Floris was talking about, he had not the slightest interest and obliged, he had to complete his walk with her contributing very little to the conversation.

Even he himself could not avoid the feeling of suffocation and frustration that invaded him. Seeing Y/N, his Y/N, next to that poor boy, one of his possible candidates to take her hand in marriage, provoked a mixture of indescribable emotions inside him and he made a great effort to keep his composure.

He feels furious and emotionally on the verge of exploding, like a mad man, with impotence filling him with rage.

Why should she marry a man who was not him? Why should he be forced to witness her courtship with another man? Why couldn't he have realized that she also loves him the same way he loves her and reacted sooner?

He felt that he was really going to go crazy, so as soon as he bids farewell to Floris and leaves her in the company of the other ladies of the Court, he heads for the training yard.

Big mistake.

As soon as his presence arrives at this place of the Red Keep, the figure of Lord Ronan pulls him out of his thoughts and draws his full attention.

At least he has the decency to hold a sword.

He thinks to himself, watching as he finds himself engrossed in his own training, accompanied by other knights, practicing his sword moves. He also thinks about focusing on his own training, but finds it a better idea to meet the candidate of his dear friend Y/N, wanting to know what truly awaits her.

After all, Lord Ronan is not the only candidate, Lord Alan also frequents the training yard and will eventually see him as well. So with a determined step, he approaches him.

"Lord Ronan," he says in a cool but controlled tone as he approaches, heading towards the weapons table.

"Prince Aemond," Ronan replies, stopping his training and turning to him, "It is good to see you here as well, my prince."

His gaze assesses Ronan closely, noting his every gesture and movement. And despite the anger still flowing through his veins, he remains calm, not revealing too much of his thoughts.

"I guess you don't train enough at home. House Redwyne is best known for making sweet wine from the grapes that grow on your island," he comments neutrally, watching Ronan's position with meticulous attention.

"Ah... no, my prince," Ronan says politely, "I have had training lessons with the sword, among other weapons, since I was a young boy. So have other members of my family and I assure you we are well trained," he replies, adjusting the position of his sword, "After all, a knight must remain prepared at all times."

"Hm," he says seriously, "And that is what you have accomplished with so many years of training?"

Ronan remains calm in the face of the prince's critical gaze, though Aemond's insinuation resonates with a defiant tone.

"P-pardon me?"

"With those moves is that how you're going to ensure protection for your future wife?" he inquires with a dismissive tone, challenging Ronan with his words.

Tension begins to be felt in the air, the verbal confrontation slipping between the two men. And though Ronan maintains his composure, not wanting his words to affect him, the disdain in the prince's words does not go unnoticed.

"Appearances can be deceiving, my prince," Ronan said calmly, controlling each word to convey determination, "And my duty as protector of my future wife is not limited to combat alone. I suppose there are more important aspects."

Aemond tilts his head, watching him in confusion.

"And what aspects are those, my Lord?" he asks, clearly disinterested.

"Loyalty, anticipation and sacrifice," he replied determinedly. "Protection goes beyond sword skills; it involves being willing to give your all for the person you are sworn to protect."

Ronan's words echoed in the air, filling the space between them with a seriousness that could not be ignored. And Aemond, his brow furrowed, lets out a sigh and watches him more seriously than before.

"Do you hear yourself, my lord? Speaking like the ladies of the Court who read and listen to love ballads," he snaps, watching him in disapproval, "Loyalty, anticipation and sacrifice are not going to protect your future wife from a life-threatening attack," he says and then turns away, taking his sword and a shield from the table.

Ronan swallows hard.

"You need not worry, my prince. Still I assure you that I am well prepared for combat."

"Oh yeah?" he looks at him expectantly, turning to him with his weapons in hands, "Then prove it."

Ronan looks a little confused.

"My prince-

"Come on," he interrupts him, egging him on with defiance, discontent and agitation in his tone and look, "If you're as skillful as you proclaim, then prove it."

The atmosphere grows more tense, as Aemond waits for Ronan to accept his challenge and prove his worth beyond words. Both men hold each other's gazes firmly, with the tension increasing by the second, but neither takes a step back.

The confrontation becomes tangible. Glares charged with a subtle but unmistakable rivalry. And without further words, the air filled with the anticipation of the physical training ahead, as the two head to the center of the training yard, each preparing in their own way.

Aemond tightens his grip on his sword and without hesitation, lunges towards Ronan with fierce determination, causing the poor knight to have little anticipation to protect himself from his sword, but managing to dodge it and answer him in kind.

At first it appears to be casual training, yet Aemond wants to get a reaction out of him.

And between every clash of swords and every move full of speed and precision, at every failure of Ronan, Aemond taunts and shouts questions and insults at him in a defiant voice while demanding superior performance.

And at every failure and every taunt, Ronan's determination grows, also inevitably to the prince's provocations.

"Is that all you can do!?"

Aemond exclaims arrogantly to him, wiping the sweat from his brow, trying to unsettle him.

Ronan growls and focuses on his movements, responding with brutality and force, trying to answer every blow he threw at him, which to Aemond, couldn't be more pathetic and weak movements.

"This is what you plan to defend yourself with? This is what you have learned?" he inquires, mockingly, "What a shame."

Ronan lowers his sword a little, watching him in bewilderment and panting in exhaustion.

"My prince-

He tries to say but Aemond won't let him.

"No," he tells him seriously, "Be a fucking man and fight me back."

Aemond raises his sword again and slams it against his, causing him to lose his balance, while Ronan as best he can defends himself from their attacks, while the combat begins to attract the attention of the other knights and some people of the Court.

And only when Aemond sees that they have just started and he can no longer stand and does not even have more strength in his arms, the confrontation went from a simple duel to a battle without mercy.

And he in a fit of anger and frustration, leads to hit him with his foot in the chest with excessive force, making him gasp in pain and throwing him to the ground, and then walk quickly towards him, with purpose, raising his sword, so Ronan quickly tries to get up, raising his sword, blocking his attack.

Then Aemond's sword dangerously grazes Ronan's shoulder, knocking him back to the ground with a blow to his side.

"My prince-

"You yield!?" he exclaims to him in his madness, bringing the point of his sword to his throat.

"Yes! I yield!"

"Just like that!? So easy!?"

"Prince Aemond!"

He hears someone shout in the distance but he focuses entirely on Ronan below him.

"I yield!"

"He's bleeding!"

"My prince!" comes Criston Cole immediately.

And only at that moment does Aemond stop, breathing shakily, his gaze with barely contained fury. And only at that moment he also notices that Ronan has a wound on his shoulder with which he had brushed his sword earlier, not realizing at the time that he had wounded him.

Ronan presses his free hand to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, watching him in horror and clearly calling for help.

Aemond squeezes his sword again so hard that it marks his white knuckles, watching everyone around him for a moment, then with a hard stare, turning to him again, angling his body so that only he can hear him.

"You are not worthy of her," he whispers in a low voice, his words laden with disdain and resentment.

And without caring about the stares or even her opponent's injury, he leaves the shield on the ground and with his sword in hand heads towards the interior of the Red Keep's castle.

Aemond knew that eventually what happened at the training yard would reach your ears. He also expected a confrontation about it, but he didn't imagine he would face your fury late at night.

His guards are required to stand guard in different hallways, so taking advantage of the fact that there are none in the hallway by his doors, you quickly make your way there to enter his chamber as fast as your body will allow.

He looks up from his book in his lap, sitting near the fireplace, watching you attentively at once, but before he can say anything, you turn to him with your lips pressed together and annoyance in your eyes.

"Have you lost your mind?" you inquire in a serious and demanding tone, looking for explanations.

And just like you, Aemond isn't having your attitude either. He's annoyed to see how you haven't taken any time at all to come to the defense of that stupid, poor, defenseless boy.

Putting his book aside, he stands up, imposing his presence on you. Despite having to raise your face to face him directly, you don't let his posture intimidate you.

"I see that that... Ronan matters too much to you, my Lady," he says in a dismissive tone, "It took you no time at all to fall for his sure sweet words and promises of love. After all, you and he are very much alike."

You inhale deeply before responding, seeking calm despite his attitude and the tone of his words.

"Ronan and I are getting to know each other, nothing more. Just as you are getting to know Floris Baratheon. But I'm not doing anything against you, yours is for sure, she's going to be your wife. But you can't go hurting and almost killing the men who can be my future husband."

He looks away from yours for a moment, irritated.

"I don't know what you expected, honestly," he tells you seriously and indifferently, "That's what happens in combat when we fight with weapons, Y/N, men get hurt. And if Ronan is weak and wasn't taught well, that's not my problem."

You stand your ground, incredulous to hear his words.

"That doesn't justify what you did. Everyone witnessed how the combat began and it was you who unfairly exploded against him, hurting him," you reproach him with determination. "His wound was deep. He needed eight stitches!"

Aemond, sick of this, averts his gaze from yours and turns his back on you, heading towards his table to pour himself a glass of wine under your confused and incredulous gaze.

"I don't understand why you're so worried, he'll be fine. After all, you still have another possible candidate for your hand, I hear," he says in a tone devoid of emotion, laden with bitterness, "Though I doubt he's much stronger than Ronan."

His voice sounds harsh, his words laden with a bitter resentment that he can barely hide, jealous.

"So this is how things will be?"

You ask him earnestly and sadly, fighting back tears that threaten to escape at any moment.

"You'll go around hurting my suitors until there are none left and I have no chance of marrying anyone else but not you either?"

Tension hangs in the air as you wait for his response, feeling the weight of your words and the clash of emotions between the two of you.

And he remains silent, staring out the window with a hard stare, as if not looking for an answer through the glass, turning his back to you and not daring to look at you at that moment.

Finally the first tear rolls down your cheek and Aemond listens as you gently sniffle your nose, then turns to you, his face showing a mixture of emotions, from hardness to the flash of regret and longing.

And he lets out a defeated sigh.

"That's not what this is about, Y/N," he murmurs in a softer tone, his expression revealing his inner struggle, "They're not worthy of you. Your father is choosing wrong."

And that's when you explode with anger and frustration, unable to contain yourself any longer.

"I just don't understand why you care so much, Aemond!" you exclaim without understanding, "You shouldn't see them as a threat because they are not. You have nothing to do here!"

You face him, as your tears fall silently, with a defiant look and your posture firm, though full of sadness, anguish and confusion, inside and outside. And he too responds to you in kind.

"Of course I do!" he turns to you angrily, exclaiming in his fury, "This does concern me because those fucking men and your father are going to take you away from me! And they have no right!"

And again your emotions boil over, fury and pain getting the best of you.

"Do you even listen to yourself? How irrational you are being?" you inquire, not understanding, "You didn't even do anything in the beginning, you are the prince, the one who had the power to do something about it and you never even once asked for my hand!" you shout at him, your voice full of reproach, sadness and disappointment.

Furious, Aemond turns around and in a burst of anger, throws his hand towards the table, causing the wine jar and the cups to fall to the floor with a deafening clatter. The sudden sound makes you jump and recoil, startled by the noise and force of the act.

He turns his back and heads for the back of his chair, leaning hard against it as he tries to contain his fury. With her breathing rapid and agitated he struggles to regain his composure, his body tensing and closing his eye tightly.

The air becomes tense and the silence uncomfortable, as Aemond fights against himself and you just allow yourself to cry silently.

When he speaks again, with a tinge of bitterness in his gaze, still not turning to look at you and his voice soft but laden with resignation, still holding back his fury.

"I wanted to," he confesses to you, his vulnerability visible, "But my mother and grandsire would never have approved, you know that."

His statement leaves you speechless, with a mixture of sadness and disappointment that he didn't even try, not once and yet...he has the nerve to do this to you.

You remain silent and the disappointment and bitterness reflect even more on your face as the tears run their course, to finally gather your courage and speak.

"Then... let me go," you whisper, it being more of a painful plea than a command.

Silence expands in the room, marking every second with the heaviness of unresolved emotions. And you, overwhelmed with disappointment and pain, understand that you have nothing more to do here and turn to leave.

You don't even care if one of the guards sees you coming out of his chamber, you don't even care if rumors arise seeing you here late at night and everything gets too complicated, you just need to get out of here soon.

And with tears still running down your cheeks and being completely heartbroken, you grab the doorknob. But just as you are about to turn it, his firm and determined hand lands on your waist and turns you towards him, stopping you.

The action takes you by surprise and you look at him without understanding, he doesn't give you time to say anything either as he places one hand on your cheek and the other keeps it firmly on your waist, bringing his body close to yours.

And still without reacting, he moves closer, his warm breath brushing against your face.

"I can't," he murmurs, his voice cracking with anguish, laden with longing and regret, "I can't," he repeats in a whisper, gently caressing your cheek, "I'm sorry."

And just then, without a thought for anyone else and without a care in the world, his lips trap yours in a passionate, desperate kiss.

Paralyzed, surprise takes you completely and you can only feel how every movement of his lips is a mixture of apology and desire, asking you to kiss him back.

His arms wrap firmly around you, clinging to you as if he's going to lose you at any moment. And unable to resist a second longer, with his soft lips and warm mouth on top of yours, he makes the world fade away around you in that instant and you kiss him back.

You place your arms around his neck and cling to him completely, moving your lips in sync with his, as he presses your body against his and lets out a gasp at the wonderful feeling of having you this way with him.

And you feel as if you are floating, this being exactly what you had dreamed and prayed for so much, wishing and praying to the Gods that this is not also one of your cruel dreams.

But this is real. It is finally happening.

So you allow yourself to lose yourself completely in it, not thinking about the consequences and not caring about anything else, as Aemond walks you around without stopping kissing you for a single moment, until his feet touch the edge of his bed.

"I love you. I love you so much, my sweet girl."

He whispers into your lips, watching you with all that love and desire in his gaze, noticing your swollen and parted lips, watching him back with the same intensity and completely surprised to hear his words.

And without saying anything back, with the actions speaking for themselves, you kiss him again, feeling that urge to cry, but of happiness.

Aemond falls down sitting on the edge of his bed and you take a seat on his lap, placing your knees on either side of his hips, clinging to his neck and kissing him slow, deep, making you feel everything.

"I love you too," you murmur against his lips, watching him with nothing but affection and desire.

He kisses you again desperately, feeling something warm in his chest at your words, holding your waist with one of his hands and the other beginning to lift the edges of your skirt, making his way to touch your bare thigh.

You gasp into his lips, feeling his warm hand and the cool metal of his rings, only to tilt your head as he begins to leave soft, wet kisses down your neck, trying to find your sensitive spot to make you shiver.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, leaving a kiss on your collarbone, lifting his gaze to you.

"A-aemond," you gasp, feeling the hardness beneath you.

You reach up with one of your hands and remove his eye patch, wanting to see everything about him, instantly reflecting the faint light of his blue sapphire, looking so beautiful and dazzling.

You smile softly at the sight of him, then leave a soft kiss on his cheek, beginning to leave a small trail down his face to kiss him on the lips, as his hand on your thigh makes gentle, firm strokes on your skin.

Slowly, he lifts his hand from your waist to the laces of your dress, watching you attentively afterwards and needing first of all your permission. And you help him untie the knots yourself.

Your front of the dress loosens and revealing your white gown underneath, Aemond lifts one of his hands and gently traces your skin between the valley of your breasts, making you shudder and shiver, then stops at the straps, watching you again.

"May I?"

With the blush on your cheeks and the nerves in your lower abdomen, really wanting to do this, you nod.

"Yes."

His hand slowly slides the strap down your shoulder and arm, then exposes your breasts to him, making you feel more nervous, but you feel completely safe to be doing this with him.

Truly everything that happens next, giving him your mainhead and letting his calloused hands explore all over your naked body, is by choice and you think to yourself that if there is one man you would willingly trust with this, it's him.

And just as the tip of his hot, hard, heavy cock makes its way between your walls, he knows exactly how to comfort you and make you feel comfortable. Instantly blood stains his sheets, but he doesn't care at all.

And when he begins to move inside you, slowly and very carefully, waiting for you to get used to it, he wipes away every tear that escapes your eyes and comforts you with his hands and kisses, making sure that at all times you are well.

"You feel so fucking good, so warm and tight, my love."

And despite his obscene words, his actions are anything but, his movements careful and careful not to hurt you, asking you how you feel.

He kisses you sweetly and caresses your breasts, he makes sure to pleasure you too, as he understands that this is not just about him and the act is not just about fucking, but him making love to you.

He growls into your lips and you gasp as he begins to move with more purpose inside you, feeling the sweat all over your body and forehead, clinging to his shoulders and gently digging your nails into his skin also lightly illuminated by sweat.

"Do you have any idea how long I imagine this?" he whispers against your lips, moving his hips and pounding that sweet spot inside you, making you moan beneath him.

But he quiets your moans with his lips, not wanting anyone out there to hear you, it would be too risky.

"Aemond," you say his name in a moan, biting your lips.

"What's wrong, my sweet girl? Does it hurt?" he says to start moving more gently.

"N-no. It just... feels so good," you manage to say over the sensual movement of his hips that make you see stars behind your eyes.

The act doesn't last long and very soon Aemond makes you reach your highest point, making you experience a sensation you had no idea about all over your body and he also spills all his seed inside you, grunting and moaning from the pleasure as he feels your walls squeezing him deliciously.

And then, both of you sweaty and trying to catch your breath, you embrace and take a moment in his bed.

You feel a tingle between your legs that is more than gratifying and Aemond, for the first time in a long time, feels at peace and completely at ease, especially having you in his arms at this moment.

There was no time for regrets and worries, it was all done. So the two of you dive into that little world where only the two of you exist.

But even though you didn't want to think about it, you think about the future, with uncertainty beginning to invade you, as you inhale Aemond's scent, hiding your face between his neck and chest, embracing him as he encloses you in his arms and gently caresses your bare shoulder with his thumb, listening to his soft breathing above you.

You let out a sigh, close your eyes and wish you could stay like this forever, starting to feel your eyes water and that huge worry in your chest for what you just did.

When Aemond speaks.

"In the morrow I will talk to your father and ask for your hand."

He says in a soft voice and everything in you comes to a complete standstill, listening to him attentively.

"I'm sure he won't be able to resist my proposal. No one will be able to stop us when they know I have claimed your mainhead, not even my mother and grandsire. And then... we will have our Valyrian wedding and there will be no turning back," he murmurs and then places a soft smile on his lips, "You will be mine, as much as you already are now."

You feel him leave a soft kiss in your hair and you smile softly, moving closer towards him, if possible.

"Sounds like an excellent plan, my love," you whisper, grateful.

And finally you can be at peace now.

[kalki-tarot]

Your first Kiss with them 🎧🍷💕

Pick a picture, my beautiful souls ♡

Pictures are taken from Pinterest.

This may not resonate with everyone. I'll use tarot and my own intuition so take what resonates and leave the rest. Don't force anything and this is just for entertainment purposes. This reading will be very specific </3

Do not steal/copy my work. Strict action(s) would be taken against you.

More pick a pile readings !

Pile 1

Death, the devil, 7 swords, 10 pentacles, the sun, ace of swords, 9 wands, 4 pentacles, queen of swords (bottom of deck)

TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

Right off the bat, pile 1. I sense you fear intimacy or being close with anyone in general. Maybe due to past experiences? Someone maybe forced you in the past or took advantage of you. I'm really sorry if that happened to you. So, now you've developed a fear of getting so close or vulnerable with anyone.

Pile 2 also has messages for you.

Your first kiss will happen after you've let go of certain fears. You may hesitate at first, but of course, it'll happen with your consent. You may get flashes of the past but you'll stand strong and let them kiss you or vice versa. This kiss will mark a new beginning as it'll signify the fears finally leaving your soul & mind.

The kiss will feel soft and fresh, like a warm summer breeze. It'll make you both happy. You'll feel content and comfortable while it happens. You will feel as you're in your power, finally. The kiss will be smooth. It can happen during the day or under the sunlight. I'm even getting a beach for some of you. It'll be overall fantastic as per your choice.

Reblog this post to claim it!

Pile 2

Death rx, page of cups, the star, 9 wands, 2 swords, six of cups, the world, 10 swords rx (bottom of deck)

This feels like a fantasy! The kiss will happen just like the way you imagine it lol. Statight outta your dreams. It'll be wet and sloppy, can use lots of tounge play(?) Idk guys I'm not experienced in these kinda things 💀😭 but It'll definitely give you butterflies in the stomach.

This will be memorable kiss, even after some years you'll still remember every bit of the detail and be nostalgic about it. This can happen outside or even at a place that's far away from your home. Like while traveling or something?

You may be combating an inevitable change while this happens. Like there's a message for you to change, change the way you've been doing things all the time. Change the way you think. Don't resist change.

Let's come back to the moment of yours, the kiss will be very romantic and emotional . A little bit playful also. I'm getting biting the lips and teasing a lot. This feels like a long kiss. This will take place at a place where there aren't many people around.

It will help you release negative thoughts and feelings you've been holding all this time. So good luck with that!

Reblog this post to claim it!

Pile 3

10 cups, strength, 9 wands, the fool, 4 swords, 5 swords, page of pentacles, 2 of wands.

Cute! Your first kiss may take place in a garden or a forest where you went to travel or camp or smth. I feel like the kiss will be initiated by the feminine energy in the connection. The kiss will make you feel young and vibrant. Your heart will race a lot. It may happen on a risky place like in the public or where someone can watch or catch you.

But the feelings would be so intense and magical. You'll be drawn towards eachother like magnets. I see a height difference between you guys.

You may have a fight before this happens, and suddenly the overwhelming feelings take over and you guys kiss. You both will literally surrender yourselves to one another. Very intimate and passionate energy.

This moment will be shocking or unexpected but you'll definitely like it!

Reblog this post to claim it!

[sharksandjays]

Once again rambling about Jay and his awesome power. One thing I've noticed about him, especially with his power, is that it seems to tax him a lot more than the others' does. Probably because of the power and intensity of lightning. I've seen so many posts about how Jay uses a very small voltage when he fights because he doesn't want to hurt people, but what seems to be supported by the canon is that it also hurts him. Every time he deals with pure lightning bolts (rather than just shocks), he seems to hurt himself in the process. This is proven in season 14 when he is literally sparking after recharging the ship.

And judging by his expressions, it's affecting him. It hurts and exhausts him.

And in season 6 and season 8 we see how dealing with direct bolts of lightning affects him. In season 6, he screams when it hits him.

And in season 8, he gets physically exhausted for a moment after redirecting.

At least from what I have seen, this is very different from the other ninja, who seem to be able to control their elements-for the most part-at different intensities without it affecting them. (Aside from Lloyd.)

Which just brings me to the point that I personally believe that Jay's power is the most powerful of the creation elements. He doesn't use it to its full potential (and KO enemies, like he could) because, while he can handle like 900 million volts (in season 6 he's struck by like 3 direct bolts of lightning, and survives), that doesn't mean he will be combat ready after that.

This might also be why Wu brought him into the team early (with Cole). He probably needed a lot more training on pain tolerance, keeping the mind and body calm, and probably lots of other endurance training. (Which is indirectly canon with how well he was able to handle Nadakhan's mental and physical torture vs the other ninja.) His power is so unpredictable, and so his training must have been very rough when he first got his powers, which is once again supported by the canon as both Nya and Lloyd talk about how he destroyed the South(?) Wing of the Monastery with an electrical fire while practicing his powers. Wu probably had to focus on his control a lot more than with the other ninja (probably like how he had to with Nya, if you think about it. Lightning and Water are both hard to control, so concentration would be key to learn for both of them, which is ironic with Jay's fanon ADHD).

Point is, Jay is super cool and so underrated sometimes. I really think it'd be cool if the show went more into how their powers affected them! Though speculation is also fun.

Anyways. Jay with the lightning chicken because they would be (are) besties.

[hulloitsdani]

What do u think Kiran is

How do u think the order sees kiran

*slowly sits up in my chair*

I think Kiran is a very normal person. This is someone you and I have met before. Be that from the other side of grocery store cashier, waiting in the same elevator, or walking by on a crosswalk. Kiran is a civilian from our world trying to roll with the punches of being warped somewhere completely alien. And you can see it in how they conduct themselves.

I always have a lot of fun writing Kiran’s dialogue because their casual modern speech almost feels like a dialect in comparison to the more formal fantasy tone everyone else speaks with. An “ain’t” will never exit Alfonse’s mouth, you know? And there’s a difference in “Do you have gold?” vs “You got gold?” To me, this gives Kiran an air of unfamiliarity to anyone they interact with. Let’s use Grima as an example, because it doesn’t sound like this grammatical change would make much of difference until Kiran has the audacity to hit Grima with a bro mid sentence. But that’s just how they talk. And as sweet and friendly as they are, there’s always moments like that to remind that no one has the cultural context to fully understand Kiran. Except for the audience, who can realize that Kiran let the customer service voice drop to talk to Grima like he’s an actual person.

And that’s just about how they talk! This view is only emphasized by every other thing about them! They’re a lovable goof, which is normal chill person behavior in the audience’s eyes but feels REALLY ODD to the characters of FE’s medieval fantasy war setting. There is this air of unknown about them that the more socially perceptive will pick up on and will try to come to a conclusion about. Example, I imagine Soren would interpret a lot of this as a dangerous and deeply annoying lack of intelligence from someone he has the displeasure of sharing a tactics table with. Or looping back to the Grima example, he would totally think Kiran has greedy ulterior motives behind that pleasant facade. It takes a lot of work for those types to realize that the discrepancy present isn’t really any of those things. But I also wouldn’t be too surprised if Kiran doesn’t try to directly prove any of those assumptions wrong unless they have to.

Why? Well now it’s time for the implications! Oh how we love the implications.

Because the Summoner is a different story. No one has any fucking clue what that is.

I can tell you what Kiran has pieced together so far. Summoning people from across time and space is apparently not easy. It’s not some school of magical study that some mage could pull off with enough time and research. Trust, Eitri tried. It’s a lot of complex moving parts. For example, the contracts. The contracts Kiran automatically binds their summoned to don’t even compare to the ones Veronica used in book 1. They are far more intense and infinitely harder to break. The only way out of them is if Kiran wills it so. Not even death is an option, because Kiran can come in for the revive. If they had to guess, it’s an older, more completed version of the art. Something lost to time. But no matter the case, Kiran has the ability to take full control of whoever they manage to summon. From a lowly farmer to the divine. And their power only grows.

In a similar vein, if there was any character to canonically see the hud, I think it would be Kiran. It’s genuinely part of their power set. I have previously described Kiran as the party mage until Veronica shows up to be the actual mage, but it would be way more accurate to call them a mystic/seer. They see the map, everyone’s stats, and is doing a fast amount of math to give the combat forecast. Then, upon processing all this information their enemies couldn’t dream of having at their disposal, Kiran can telepathically communicate any change in plans to anyone under contract. Kiran is not inherently some great tactician the moment they touch ground in Askr; they simply can do things no one else can. They’re learning the actual tactics part on the fly. This makes them simultaneously the largest ace up the Order’s sleeve and potentially its biggest liability. If they fall, it could cause a whole system cascade. By that same token, some of the biggest threats the Order has faced are the ones who do their research and rightfully target Kiran.

Now. Thinking critically about all that. That’s downright terrifying. A ridiculous amount of power has been dropped callously into Kiran’s lap and they have to work extremely hard to be moral with it. It’s terrifyingly easy not to be. It would actively take less effort to ‘take the reins’ as it were. But in order to be able to sleep at night ever again, they go the extra mile to not invalidate the will of their summoned. To take over like that. To make a colony of worker bees out of people. Because oh dear god they just summoned a child and the fact that they could easily force them to fight and die for them, only to be revived and do it all over again, is HAUNTING. No. No the Order has an in house orphanage now. This kid is getting adopted and cared for god damnit or Kiran might just pop a blood vessel. And sure that child is going to be a child and there will never be a world where they get along with everyone else, but that’s just going to need be a problem they address when they get there and not an excuse to use Hubris; the power set. Now replace the word child with everyone they ever summoned and you have the wider philosophy they apply to the entire Order.

They’re hyper aware of the power imbalance. They hate it with every bone in their body. They work really hard to correct it in whatever way they can.

So Kiran might not jump on the opportunity to correct those who think lesser of them. It’s… oddly comforting to know someone is keeping a critical eye on them. Holding them accountable. Especially since so much of the order just thinks of them as this quirky yet well meaning host. And, really, what can they even do about that? They have gone over the contract with every hero they summon and despite that they still choose to stay. So, what, do they try to inspire more mistrust? The problem with that they would have to actually do acts that intentionally inspire mistrust. And even if that was successful they can’t just waste the extra man power because every other month there’s some new divine asshole who wants them all dead. And if they fail that means they have to start their life from square one and god they can’t do that again so—

Just breathe Kiran.

It’s fine. You’re fine. Just breathe.

You have work to do.

[lynn-w3st]

hii! can I request something with Syzoth? (if you write stuff with him in it of course)

can be headcanons or anything you prefer

[idea: maybe something with jealous Syzoth? That is jealous about reader that is not even theirs in the first place? Like they are friends but he wants it to be something more and is just jealoussssss and how he deals with it etc.]

have a nice day, if you don't feel like it - you can turn down this request I won't be mad don't worry :)

MK1: Jealousy At Its Finest

Pairing: Syzoth x Fem Reader

Note: This took me a bit of time to plan. I tried my best so I hope you guys enjoy read it. Also, I started writing down a bit of Babysitting 101.

Warning: Slight Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Johnny being Johnny, Szyoth is Pookie 🥺. Hope you guys enjoy 😊.

Syzoth first met you when you accompanied Kenshi, Kung Lao and Johnny to go confront Shang Tsung but ended up imprisoned in his dungeon. But when all hope was lost, he came and saved not your life but your friends as well.

From that day forward on, Syzoth had became very close to you and formed a deep bond and attachment to you. He became a bit protective since you showed him kindness and gave him a second chance . He vows to always be there for you just like how you were always there for him.

Syzoth knew at that moment he had fallen in love with you. Your kindness and compassion made him feel special and loved by you. He often ask Ashrah on how to court you properly.

Every time you would pass by or simply waved a hello at him, Syzoth would feel his heart race at the sight of your lovingly and gentle smile. He badly wants to express his feelings to you.

But a part of him feels like why should you love a freak and monster like him. He lost his wife and kid to Shang Tsung. What if he loses you the same way . Is he destined to be alone?

Whenever Syzoth isn’t busy with missions, he often times seeks you out and often stays by your side the whole day, watching you work.

Being a medical doctor can be very stressful as you have to deal with a lot of injured monks and combatants. But you really appreciate it when Syzoth assists even if he doesn’t know much about Earthrealmers culture or anatomy.

As a Zatteran, he tries his best to court you by showing off his skills and ability but no matter how much he tries to gain your attention Kung Lao or Johnny steals you away . He gets very jealous on how Johnny or Kung Lao flirts with you or how close you are with the both of them.

“Hey (Y,N)! You should totally be in my next movie. Could use a beauty like you.” Johnny said as you chuckled and gave him a smile as you were hanging up the wet blankets up in the rack while Syzoth was helping you fold them.

“Thanks for the offer Cage but I’m good. I have other things to worry about besides fame.” You said as you smiled as you pick up the basket.

Syzoth gave an intense glare at Johnny and wrap his tail around your waist in which you didn’t mind thinking it was a friendly gesture.

“Oh come on!! You would be a very big hit in Hollywood. Imagine the fame!” He said as you just chuckled but before he you could do say anything else Syzoth stood close behind you and gave the actor a very judgmental looked.

Syzoth doesn’t get jealous often but he can be very clingy of you at times and this was one of them. He didn’t like the way Johnny place his hand on your shoulder but felt relieved when you brush it off and gave the actor a smile.

“Thanks for the offer Cage!” You called out as you and Syzoth left the courtyard and headed towards your estate to prepare some dinner.

Syzoth enjoys spending every moment with you as he is hardly stays away from you as he often helps you with daily tasks and activities. He would have a lovesick smile planted on his face whenever you would hug him. You always thought he was very attentive because how he would accompany you and assist you. Totally not because this how Zatteran court their mate.

Syzoth wants nothing more than to express his romantic feelings for you as he sees this as a second chance for him to have. He wants to marry you and start a family of his own again.

You mean the whole world to him and he would anything just for you even if he has to wait for you at the end of the realms and protect you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Syzoth watch in envy the way you laugh and joke around with Kung Lao who was talking about the shenanigans that Johnny did during training and how amazing your cooking was.

“So you are saying that Madam Bo’s cooking is not good enough for you, Lao?” You tease at him which made him blush in embarrassment. Kung Lao blush in embarrassment as he grab your hand and gave you the puppy eye looks.

“(Y,N) please don’t tell Madam Bo that I said that. She’ll tear me a new.” He said as you just chuckled lightly before poking his forehead. Kung Lao smiled as he decided to confess his feelings for you. “(Y,N) would have the honor to accompany on a date to Madam Bo’s.” He said.

You stared at him with wide eyes but before you could speak something inside of Syzoth snap as he was at your side in an instant and brought you close to him and silently growl at Kung Lao.

“I’m very sorry Kung Lao but my hearts belong to someone else. I see you as a brother and I hope we can still be best friends.” You said sadly as Kung Lao frown but understood you.

Kung Lao knew at that moment that you were in love with Syzoth. His suspicions were now confirmed that you’ve had a feelings for him so that means Johnny owns him a meal at Madam Bo. He smirk at how Syzoth had a possessive embrace around you. He chuckled at the sight.

“Well Syzoth has something to tell you. Let me know when the food is ready.” He said cheekily as he went to go find Raiden and Johnny.

You turn to face Syzoth who frown and averted his eyes before gently grabbing your hands. “(Y,N).” He said shyly and nervously as you gave him a worried expression. “Would you give me the honors to court and mate you. I have loved you for a while.” He confess as you were stared at him speechless with your cheeks heated up.

“You showed me nothing but kindness and gave me a second chance after everything Shang Tsung did to me. I love you very much please allow me to make you mine.” He said softly as you gave him your famous smile that he had fallen in love with. His love for you is unconditional and would do anything for you.

You place both of your hands against his cheeks as you place a gentle soft kiss which made him blush before returning the gesture. The both of you broke away as Syzoth smiled lovingly. He brought you into a tight hug as he nuzzled into you. “I love you, (Y,N). You are my forever.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I tried my best making Syzoth super jealous but sadly I’m a vanilla person when it comes to writing romance. I’m more of a wholesome romantic type of person in general. Spicy romance isn’t really my specialty 🥺😣.

If you guys have any questions or concerns please feel free to message me, I’m always happy to help and available anytime I can.

[avaelangel]

I am sad.

For unrelated reasons, but I am also concerned about what The Boys universe has in store for us. So here you go some random LiMoreou headcanons, because I want to feel something.

Warnings: cheese and no real time restraints.

They for sure do that couple hand-over-the-shoulders thing. Jordan does it while in male form, and Marie sort of adopts it when they're in the girl form. Jordan might be a bit startled about it at first, maybe even will change back just to be annoying. Marie will do one better and try to tackle them into bending down.

Jordan will probably try and teach Marie combat. She would be reluctant about it, but will come to a conclusion (maybe with Emma's help) that it's just a way for them to spend time together. It would be hard not to get distracted, though.

Marie at some point will try and get in between Jordan and something that threatens them in any way, regardless of what form they are in or who is the threat. This might happen when Jordan's parents come again.

They both would adopt each other's behaviors which would include being protective over Emma. Emma would be weirded out that Jordan cares, but will find it funny how them and Marie glare at any guy or girl that looks at her wrong.

Oh, there's no spooning rules for Marie and Jordan. Every night is different. Sometimes one of them can't really breath from the intensity of an embrace.

Jordan and Marie didn't have a shoulder to cry on growing up. After some time they both will realise that they have each other. I think, in both cases they will be good in soothing a crying love, but Jordan will think about solving the problem first and will need a moment to reaccess.

For sure would try to be the clingiest of couples if someone calls them gross.

Totally would have video game nights. Marie never had a console! Jordan has soooo much to show her.

First date in an arcade. Junk food, photobooth pictures and the most cursed plushies they could win for each other.

Jordan wears a lot of staples (t-shirts, tanks, turtlenecks of one color) which will find their way into Marie's closet. Maybe fun pants will immigrate too. Jordan will come stomping to raid Marie's closet then when that black sweatshirt with a skull disappears.

They are for sure going thrifting together. A million percent.

(this is a weird one, but) Jordan knows an abysmal amount of poetry from the days of chasing wrong people. When they start randomly reciting some Shakespear sonnet to Marie, she's so scared. But when Jordan does it to startle her again, Marie actually enjoys it. Jordan isn't bummed for long, because it starts a long conversation about literature.

Marie does indulge in Property Brothes marathons. She didn't get it first, but didn't say anything. Around season 6 she would actually understand the appeal.

That would spawn an idea to just hang out in paint stores and hardware stores.

Jordan for sure can put up a shelf and stuff. Once, they pulled out a fancy drill with a battery and Marie almost swoons for real.

[jettingtothemoon]

Daughter of the Spirits; chapter 14

➳ pairing: zuko x f!reader ➳ genre: a retelling of the show from season 2 onwards with a heavy focus and expansion on zuko’s story (canon divergent) ➳ warnings: violence, swearing, smut (underaged if your age of consent is above 16), spoilers for anyone who hasn’t seen the show ➳ word count: 2840 ➳ rating: 18+ ➳ summary: In which y/n comes across the fire nation prince during her stay in Ba Sing Se. ➳ tags: @harmlessoffering @lammello @hannahdinse8 @ok-boke @stranger-chan @nekee-lilac02 @inutheangel @kalea-gooch @meiraloves2dmen @cozy-fantasy-corner @urmomlikeslinotoo @brain-has-left @iluvme547 @nadlx33333 @savannah0111 @browneyedgirl22 @swoon-for-joon @vyliie (i’m sorry if i’m forgetting anyone, lmk if i am or if you want to be added)

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14,

Inner Conflict

The very next day Zuko set out to teach Aang. He asked you to take part, nervous to teach the Avatar on his own, but you reminded him that this was something he and Aang needed to do alone. At least, until they had some time to bond. You weren’t sure if or when that would happen but you wanted more than anything for the pair to truly reconcile and put old grudges behind them.

So while he taught the Avatar, you decided to spend your time getting to know the others in the group better. You wandered through the camp and found Toph sitting on a rock, casually bending small rocks into intricate shapes to pass the time. You admired her skill and approached her with a friendly smile.

"Hey, Toph. Mind if I join you?" you asked.

The young girl shrugged. "Sure, if you can keep up."

You sat down next to her and tried to mimic her movements, but your rocks crumbled to dust. Toph laughed, and you joined in, enjoying the moment of camaraderie.

“It’s your Waterbender energy, you need to stop following the flow and stiffen up. Throwing boulders and making walls is one thing but something smaller,” she rock in front of her began to take shape, morphing into a small figurine of the Avatar’s flying bison, “requires more thought and precision.”

For someone so young, she was insanely skilled. A more than worthy companion of the avatar. You could learn a lot from her, just as you knew you could learn a lot from everyone, if they just gave you and Zuko a chance.

You both chatted for a while, talking about your journeys and experiences. You spoke of your home back in Omashu and of your parents, whom you missed so dearly, and she told you a little of her upbringing and how she left her parents behind to join the avatar on his journey. Toph was tough but honest, and you found her perspective refreshing.

After some time, you noticed Sokka nearby, practising with his boomerang. Toph nudged you, urging you to go and speak to the boy, and you realised she was helping you. You needed to prove that you were on their side, that you were more than Zuko’s girlfriend. That you wanted to be a part of this team. "Looks like Sokka could use some company. Go on, give him a hand."

You walked over to Sokka, who was deeply focused on his drills. "Hey, Sokka, need a sparring partner?"

Sokka paused and looked at you, a bit surprised but then grinned. "Why not? Just don't go easy on me."

The two of you moved to a more open space and readied your stances, preparing for hand-to-hand combat. Sokka grinned as he twirled his boomerang before tossing it aside. "Alright y/n, let's see what you've got."

You both started slowly, testing each other's reflexes. Sokka was the first to throw a punch, which you blocked with ease and responded with a blow of your own that he quickly dodged. The match was intense as you each gave as good as you got but trying to fight without your bending felt almost foreign now, even after so many years of hiding what you could really do. Sokka, despite his appearance and light-hearted demeanour, was a skilled fighter. His strategic mind shined through in his every move, always a step ahead as he predicted your actions and countered them with precision.

"You've got to be faster," Sokka teased, ducking under your strike and tapping your shoulder lightly as he rolled away. "Imagine you're facing a Fire Nation soldier, not a friend."

You grinned back, trying to keep up with his quick movements. "I think I can handle a few soldiers, Sokka."

The fight escalated, your strikes becoming more powerful and focused. You threw a series of punches, each aimed with intent, but Sokka blocked them with surprising ease. Before you knew what was happening, he swept your legs out from under you, and you hit the ground with a thud. Your chest rose and fell in haste as you regained your breath and soon, Sokka was there to offer you a hand in getting back up.

"You're relying too much on your bending," he said, helping you to your feet. "You need to learn how to fight without it. Our enemies have a chi-blocker, and if you can't bend, you'll be vulnerable."

You dusted yourself off, nodding thoughtfully. "I know Ty Lee. We were friends before we left. I hope we don't find ourselves against each other on the battlefield."

Sokka's expression softened for a moment. "I hope so too. But just in case, you need to be prepared. Chi-blockers are no joke."

You sighed, the weight of the situation settling over you. "You're right. I can't rely solely on my bending. I'll train harder."

Sokka clapped you on the shoulder. "That's the spirit. And don't worry, we've got each other's backs out there."

You chatted together as you headed back to the camp, laughing and joking as you walked along. You felt closer now, which was a relief. But opening up to you was one thing, putting their faith in Zuko was another entirely.

Just as you made your way back into camp, Katara came wandering over with a look in her eye that told you she had something she wanted to say. "Can I talk to you?" she asked, her tone leaving little room for refusal.

You nodded, sensing that this conversation had been a long time coming. You and Katara walked a little away from the others, finding a quiet spot near the river, and you couldn’t quell your nerves.

"I need to understand something," Katara began, her voice tense. "Why are you still with Zuko? After everything he's done, how can you still stand by his side?"

You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. "I know Zuko has made mistakes, Katara. But I've seen the light inside him. He's trying to change, really. I've seen him struggle with this for so long, always questioning his choices, wondering if he’s doing the right thing. He’s trying to be better, to be good. That's why he’s here, to finally make the right choice."

Katara's eyes flashed with anger. "But he's hurt so many people! He betrayed us, tried to capture Aang so many times. How can you trust him after all that?"

"I understand your anger, Katara," you replied softly. "I really do. But people can change. I know you've seen it too. Zuko's not the same person he was. He finally wants to do some good and sees the damage the Fire Nation has done. Do you know how hard it was for him to leave everything he’s ever known behind? To turn his back on his own nation? His friends? His family? He needs our support, Katara, not our hatred. Everyone deserves a second chance."

Katara crossed her arms, her expression softening slightly but still guarded. "It's not as simple as that. Even if I wanted to believe in him, it's hard to forget everything he's done."

"Please, just give him a chance to prove himself," you urged. "I believe in him, and I think, deep down, you do too. So please, help me help him become the person he wants to be."

Katara looked down, her resolve wavering. "Maybe you're right, but I can’t so easily trust him. I’ve been betrayed by him enough times, we all have. He can’t keep changing his mind, what’s to say he won’t do so again? I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust, not after everything he’s done."

"That's fair," you agreed. "I know right now you can only see what he has done and not what he wants to do going forward. If you can’t trust him, then trust in me. He won’t turn his back on any of us again. Please, give him a chance."

Katara nodded slowly. "I'll try. For Aang's sake, and for yours. But he better not mess this up."

You smiled, feeling a sense of relief. "Thank you, Katara. It means a lot."

As you returned to the camp, you felt hopeful. The path to reconciliation was never easy, but with patience and understanding, you believed that Zuko could truly become a valued member of the team.

When the sun began its descent from the sky, Zuko came to pull you aside. Without a word you followed him, allowing him to quietly lead you along with in hand wrapped snugly around your own.

“I can’t teach him,” he said when you finally reached your room, a place away from prying eyes and ears.

You frowned. “You can’t teach Aang? Why?”

Zuko sighed and slumped down onto the bed. “It’s my bending… It’s gone. How am I supposed to teach the avatar, or even fight, when I can only muster a small flame?”

Moving to sit beside him, you took his hand again. For the first time since you’d known him, he felt cold. The tips of his fingers chilled you to touch, even as you encased them with your own warmth.

“Maybe I can help with that…”

He raised an eyebrow as you turned towards him, resting a gentle hand to his cheek as your lips met. He followed your lead as you climbed over him, deepening your kiss, and only pulled away when your hands started to tug at his clothes.

“Look,” he spoke softly, “it’s not that I’m not enjoying this, but how will it help bring my bending back?”

You kissed his cheek softly, letting your lips linger for a moment before trailing them down to his jawline, each kiss deliberate and tender. As your lips brushed against the curve of his neck, you felt his pulse quicken beneath the surface. Smiling against his skin, you murmured, "Maybe a little bit of passion will reignite your fire."

Zuko chuckled and hummed, signalling that there would be no protest from him. His arms moved to hold you, one of his hands slipping into your hair as he kissed you again. It was a silly idea and you both knew it but, if anything, a distraction might be exactly what he needed.

You shifted slightly, pressing your body closer to his as your lips met once more. This kiss was slower, deeper, and filled with all the reassurance and affection you could muster. Zuko's initial hesitancy melted away as he responded, his lips moving in sync with yours. His hand slid down to your waist, pulling you even closer.

You could feel the tension in his body slowly easing away and hoped more than anything to soothe him in this moment of uncertainty. He let out a contented sigh, the warmth between you gradually spreading.

Zuko's fingers threaded through your hair, his touch both gentle and urgent. He tilted his head back slightly, giving you better access as you continued to kiss along his neck and collarbone. Your hands slid beneath his robes, sliding it free of his shoulders and your lips followed the path of untouched skin. The feeling of your lips against him seemed to bring a faint, reassuring warmth back into him.

He rolled over, guiding you beneath him, his lips finding yours again in a series of passionate, lingering kisses. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close to savour the closeness and comfort it brought.

“I love you,” you spoke as you began to slip free of your own clothes, feeling your skin bare against his own. “I love you so much.”

He grinned into your kiss, his hands too working to rid you of the fabric that kept you from him. He seemed more confident than he had before, as though your words made him feel like he could take on the world so long as you were at his side.

“I…” he muttered, “I don’t know what to do.”

You could feel the flush of his cheeks in your hands as you kissed him again, offering a gentle smile against his lips. "It's alright," you whispered, your voice a soothing balm. "We don't need to rush this."

His uncertainty melted away bit by bit as your hands traced the contours of his face, guiding him with patient tenderness. He followed your lead, his touches growing more assured as he explored the warmth and comfort you offered.

His hands roamed over your skin, each caress imbued with a newfound confidence. He marvelled at the way your bodies fit together, the way your breath mingled as your kisses deepened. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you enveloped in a cocoon of shared heat and intimacy.

“I want to…” his breath was hot against your lips, his forehead gently learning against your own. “I really want to… but this,” your kisses grew languid and his brows furrowed, frustration seeping back in, and before you knew what was happening he was pulling away, “...this isn’t working.”

Although you understood his annoyance with himself, you couldn’t help but feel the ache in your heart as Zuko pulled away, his words hanging heavily in the air. The warmth that had been building between you dissipated, leaving a cold chill in its wake. His kiss he pressed to your cheek felt more like a farewell as he swiftly pulled his robes back on.

Silence settled in the room, broken only by the rustle of fabric and the sound of Zuko pacing restlessly while he thought, now possibly more frustrated than he was before. Slowly, you sat up and wrapped your arms around yourself, all of a sudden feeling exposed and vulnerable. The intimacy shared between you moments ago already felt like a distant memory, replaced by the reality of Zuko's frustration and the conflict within himself.

"I... I'm sorry," you whispered, the words catching in your throat. You wanted to reach out to him, to comfort him and hold him and make all his worries go away, but you knew he needed space.

Zuko ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, his back turned to you. "It's not your fault," he said quietly, his voice soft and fatigued. "I appreciate what you were trying to do. But... I can't... I need my bending, y/n. What use am I to the avatar without it?"

You pulled the blankets around you, disappointed that things hadn’t gone further and acutely aware of the ache that was left behind in the remnants of his touch. “It’ll be alright, I promise.”

With a deep breath, Zuko turned to look at you. His eyes were soft, conveying all the love and gratitude he had for you, but within them lingered a persistent trace of doubt. Not in you, but in himself. "I need time to figure things out," he admitted, his voice vulnerably raw. "Alone."

You nodded again, knowing there was nothing else you could say to comfort him now. You had done your part and it hadn’t helped. It was up to him now to figure this out. You wanted to be strong for him, to show him that you could support him even in moments like this, but you didn’t know what to do. How could you sit by and watch him suffer through something knowing there was nothing you could do to help?

Zuko approached you cautiously, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His touch was tender but fleeting, both a silent apology and farewell. "I... I'll be back," he promised softly, though the uncertainty in his eyes mirrored the ache in your heart.

And then he was gone, leaving you alone in the quiet room. Your arms tightened around yourself, trying to hold onto the warmth that had left with him, and you smiled. Not because you were happy but because he was trying. He wanted to do the right thing and maybe his issues with his bending had something to do with that. Whatever it was, you were certain he would figure it out.

The room felt emptier now, colder despite the lingering heat of your shared intimacy. You buried your face in your hands, letting the weight of the moment wash over you. All you could do now was wait and hope that Zuko would find solace in the stars if he could not find it in you.

It was then that you realised just how deeply your love for him had carved into your beating heart because when he was suffering, nothing else mattered. Not the war, not the constant void of being so far from your home and family. None of it mattered because he was in pain. What a dangerous love that is, to love someone so completely that they become all that matters to you in the world. You’d bring down the very sky for him if it would make him smile and you hoped that someday he would do the same for you.

Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14,

[octoberwitchsblog]

bloodraven headcanons ^^

He used to get mocked a lot as a kid for the way he looked and it was Daemon Blackfyre who encouraged him to get better at the sword and ignore the comments

He started training with the bow and arrows because he quickly understood that he would get his ass kicked in a close combat.

He looked up to Daemon Blackfyre way more than he would ever admit it and even after his death, he thinks of him sometimes.

"What would Daemon have done ?"

Daemon is Brynden's silver springs situation

He never fully felt like a Targaryen nor a Blackwood but he got more interested in his Blackwood heritage during his late teens when he had his first visions.

His father didn't care much about him but Daeron would always be kind and even if he would never admit it, Brynden saw him more as a father than a brother.

Despite everything happening in King's Landing, he never forgot his sisters Gwenys and Mya and still took care of them until he was sent to the Wall. His only demand to Aegon V before he left was for him to take care of them too.

I like to think that Brynden started having visions and dreams during his teens and knew what was going to happen with Daemon. He tried to stop it as much as he could but it didn't work and it taught him about his own abilities.

"You'll see things you'll never be able to change."

He hates Aegor because he's the only person in the world who has the power to make him feel small. Even when he grows up, every time he hears Aegor's name, he feels like the powerless kid he was, just as he felt powerless when Aegor took his eye. Brynden spent his whole life escaping that powerless feeling and he succeeded ; the only thing that still reminds him of the things he wants to forget is Aegor.

Aegor getting with Shiera makes it even worse to him because Shiera's the only person he allows himself to be vulnerable with. And it also makes him mad insecure every time he remembers it.

He can spend hours justifying the logic and inevitability of Daemon's death but every time he thinks about it, all he feels is guilt. The only thing that stops the guilt from becoming overwhelming is his conviction that he acted for the good of the realm.

Brynden's philosophy when it comes to being Hand of the King is that he would never kill an innocent child unless that innocent child's death would benefit the realm. From the moment he kills Daemon and people see him as a monster and a kinslayer, he becomes more ruthless because he knows he'll never be able to win people's trust. He wouldn't let remorse or doubt stop him.

He's the local Machiavellian prince basically.

"How many eyes does lord Bloodraven have ? A thousand eyes and one."

He finds the riddle genuinely amusing because he understands that there's a certain power in being feared.

He's obsessed with the Blackfyres because if one of them gets the throne, Daemon would've died for nothing. Why would you have killed him just to let one of his sons have the throne years later ?

He was a quiet kid and became a stern man. His quietness made people even more uncomfortable than his looks.

He's an overall very sickly dude and he's always been that way : more frail than the other kids even when he got better with the sword, bow and arrows, the sunlight gives him headaches if he stays in it too long and his body is thin and more bony than muscly. Physically, he's the total opposite of Bittersteel.

He always had a crush on Shiera but he knew that he was in love with her when he came back from the Redgrass field and she was the only one who looked at him like he still had two eyes.

He has a very dark sense of humor that works really well on Shiera.

Aerys was one of his first friends and he has a lot of affection for him but he loses respect for him when he sees the kind of King he is, especially after Daeron.

His eye socket hurts him pretty much on a daily basis but at different intensities his whole life and he's a literal master at hiding his health issues. He only said it to Shiera but Aerys has known for years too.

After naming him Hand, Maekar found himself surprised to see how fragile Brynden looked from up close. He just became so good at using the fear and hatred he causes to everyone that people are almost surprised to find that he's, in fact, just a man.

He spent his time at the Wall coughing terribly because of the cold. The men of the Night's Watch may not have loved him but Brynden was surprised to see that at least, they respected his thoughts. His cold logic had more success with the men of the watch than with the rest of the realm.

[schrodinger-swriter]

HI AGAIN!! i saw you said we were allowed to put one or two asks in at a time so i’m hopping on that haha. first of all, with my first husk request, i’d like to say right after i sent that in, i noticed one or two letters you had already done and i would just like to say i’m so sorry if that caused you any extra work!! (well not sorry enough cause i’m coming back to give you more PFF- 😭😭) (sorry i’m crazy, moving on) but if you could give me Lute with the following letters that’d be amazing!! : A, B, G, H, U

thank you sm again!! your work fucking rocks haha, i will definitely be in here more after you do the first two requests i sent, no rush tho!! love ya (/p) and your work 💕

A, B, G, H, and U for Lute

No need to apologize! Slip ups happen all the time. I actually have the switch between windows when I'm updating the masterlist when a new alphabet post is made! Aha!

I hope this is alright, I admit I struggle with writing softer... more domestic stuff for Lute, so this post may be a little short..

ATTRACTION:

Lute would be interested in someone strong... strong body and strong willed. Though only if your loyalties lie with Heaven. Lute already spends her days fighting.. and it seems she might even be Adam's right hand man.. Woman.. his personal guard, it seems. Be it assigned or voluntary. She is more than willing to protect and fight for you, but knowing you can provide for yourself puts her at ease as well as makes her feel more secure.

BONDING:

Similar to the Vaggie post, you both tend to bond when the pair of you spare together. Lute seems to be very skilled in combat, that sort of thing doesn't happen over night. The only drawback here is that she's likely to go a little hard on you, and perhaps she's a bit of a sore loser..? You might be able to convince her to go out and do something relaxing, though it will take a lot of coaxing to pull her away from her duties.

GIFT GIVING:

Lute doesn't do gifts often. She doesn't exactly know how to react when given a gift, so she might react a little tensely. She does appreciate it, she just isn't used to being cared for like that. Likewise, the thought to give you gifts outside of special occasion doesn't cross her mind. She's more of an acts of service person, anyway.

HARSH:

Lute can be very intense. Heaven and it's plans will always come first for her, which can put a nasty strain on the relationship if time and time again she puts the plans you've made together to the side. She can also get really into an argument if she's passionate about the subject, even sometimes saying something in the heat of the moment.

She's stubborn, too. "Angels don't make mistakes", you know? But you're an angel too.. I mean you'd likely be one, right? Given Lute's obvious disdain for anything sinful. Getting an apology out of her is like pulling teeth, though her tense... well tense-er body language does show that she's having mixed thoughts going on inside of her. Tries to offer peace by doing something for you.

UPSET:

When Lute is upset she tends to... shut herself away, a lot of her feelings being outwardly converted into something that LOOKS like annoyance or anger. She'd much rather spend some time alone letting off some steam.

When you're upset she can be a little... emotionally distant. She's trying to connect, but she's so used to being this war machine of sorts that being vulnerable wasn't something she ever considered. She's trying, and even if she doesn't say much she's listening to you rattle off about what's gotten you in a sour mood.

[alfredsolos]

Among us Batfam fans, not all of us love every single member.

Some of use don't like Jason, Dick, Bruce etc.

And naturally, there are people who don't like Damian. Be it his personality or his difference from the previous Robins. This is perfectly normal, you don't have to like Damian or any other Batfam member. For example, I don't really like Bruce's personality and his treatment of his kids. (Although that's mostly DC's fault not Bruce)

But there are certain types of people in the fandom that just loathes a character. And most of the time, this character is Damian. And as a person whose favorite is Damian, this irritates me to say the least.

People don't like the fact that Damian is different, and in their mind, not what a Robin should be. They think that Robin should be the light to Batman's darkness. Which is problematic on it's own, but I won't get into that.

They don't like his bluntness which is often percieved as rudeness (I know there instances where he is rude on purpose, but most of the time it's just him being brutally honest.)

No matter how much these haters deny it, Damian is very capable. He is very smart both academically and in-life. He's a good strategist. He can get himself out of bad situations as easy as getting himself into one. He bested his mother in combat at the age of 10 to learn the identity of his father. He was able to tell who his father was, just by reading his body language (In which Bruce was in Brucie mode). He can manipulate his voice to sound as whoever He wants. He is brave and almost fearless. He is not afraid of higher authority and has wicked wits.

Of course the haters don't care for any of that. The probably don't even know half of these actually happened. Maybe they never even opened a single issue of a comic.

What they're focused on is: He's rude to the other members, he is the weakest of the Batfam and gets his ass handed to him, he is an egoist and aggressive person, he is unwanted and so on...

And when you point out that what they're saying is just what they think and percieve of Damian, and not real facts or when you try to show them examples of him being good and a capable fighter they just deny it and go back to just hating him for nothing.

Like I said before in the beginning, it's totally okay to not like a character. For example if you're a Tim Drake fan you may not like Damian because he tried to kill Tim or said rude things to him.

But with that you have to acknowledge that Jason did the same thing. He beat Tim in the Titans Tower and tried to kill him in Battle For The Cowl. Or that time when Bruce punched Dick. Or that time when Jason shot Damian. Or when Steph hit Tim on the face with a brick and so on...

We need to understand that the current Batfamily is very disfunctional and often times hurt each other. So hating on a character for attacking your favorite one is kinda dumb because they all fought each other at one point.

And so what is the other reason why people hate Damian? His personality.

Yet again this rant is for the people who hate him almost religiously and can not have a conversation about him without bashing him.

(It's totally okay to not like his character and instead focusing on your favorite characters without having the need to bash him.)

This is not very well known but Damian technically has 3 origins.

1) His first appearance, in which Damian was given up for adoption by Talia the moment he was born. We don't really know anything of this origin so I can't really say anything of this version of Damian. But what I can say is that this version would be a lot different than the canon one and he would just be a normal kid.

What we need to focus on is the other two versions.

2) The version that was/is considered canon which was written by Grant Morrison. This version of Damian was raised in the League by trainers. This Damian did not meet Talia until he was 8 years old. So he was more intense and aggressive than the other 2 versions. This is also the version who tried to kill Tim and brought a severed head to the cave.

Now think of a kid who was raised and brainwashed in this cult where he had to kill people, learn advanced academic lore, train and master in multiple martial arts, learn to be obedient but also respected. Imagine this kid growing up and doing these things without having a single parental figure that showed him an ounce of love. Where everyone he interacts with is either scared of him or is meant to train him brutally to make him the best. Imagine this child not knowing the fact that the reason why he was trained like this is not to become the Demon's Head or an assassin, but to be a vessel for Ra's when his body starts rejecting the pit. This was a kid raised to die while suffering his whole life. This is the kid who was killed by his own mother. A 10 year old child that was sent to Hell.

And the last version:

3) Tomasi's version of Damian Wayne. This Damian has a different backstory than the other two. He was raised in the League just like the second version but with a difference. Talia was there. So although he was raised in this violent cult-like place, he had the (somewhat) love of a mother. There are canonical instances shown to us where Talia tells him stories and so on. This is the version who canonically referred to the other assassins as his brothers. This is the version who cried after killing the Bat Dragons. This the version who cried at the death of Alfred. He is the one who cried for Dick when he was shot.

Excluding the first version, the other two encountered very traumatic things in their lives and as a response grew up to be cold and blunt to survive that kind of environment.

So when a Damian fan responds to questions as to why they stan him despite his personality with "Because he is a child.", they don't really have to say anything else. Because that's what he was.

An abused and traumatised child. And honestly, we don't really need another reason for liking him.

Even Tim -whose some fans hate Damian for what he did to him- tells and believes this.

"You were just a kid"

[ffruitsalad]

Fable SMP Commission Experience 4/7

In this section, I'll be sharing sketches from what I call "Scene 3: Portal Scene," where Fable first opens a portal in Icarus' chest to the moment he gets interrupted by a launched firework!

"Fable stands over [Icarus], his left hand pixelated and glitchy. Fable pushes his left hand into the center of Icarus' chest. A bright colorful light beams and shines out of it."

I felt that, around this point in the scene, it would be good to switch to a harsher brush in order to mark a turning point in the story. It also allowed for me to show more fast motions, like in the energy of the light and the combat!

After submitting this sketch and while working on the digital, I double checked the script and saw an edit saying it was only his left hand on Icarus' chest. Whoops!

"Fable's eyes begin to glow the same color as his jaw drops in awe. Fable's mouth pulls up into a smile as he widens the portal and the light glows. Icarus winces... Fable turns his head to look down towards Icarus, still smiling. Fable's smile drops only a little."

For this scene, I really wanted to give a malicious edge to Fable's joy towards his discovery, so his face has a lot of harsh lines and black areas. I wanted the light to erupt from his eyes to show the strength and energy of this new power.

I reworked the shot of Icarus and Fable in the final so that Fable's expression could be seen! It was important for me to show the complete disregard for Icarus' well-being.

"Icarus starts to panic in pain."

For the shot of Fable's glowing eyes, I was thinking of ways to show the intensity of a one-track mind. I thought about big cats in the wild, and how when they look at their prey, their eyes are wide and unblinking. I also wanted to emphasize the wrinkles to make his eyes pop out more.

Until a while ago, I didn't realize that Icarus' darker eye was always leaking blood! In the final, I made sure to edit it so the flow changed from when he was lifting and putting down his head.

"Fable focuses his grip and pulls the portal open more. The light is blinding. A firework slams into Fable, exploding..."

One of my favorite scenes to put to digital! I made Fable smaller in comparison to the light effects to sell the "blinding" aspect of it.

I wanted Fable's face to be a bit distorted and wide from this mix of madness and ecstasy. I was thinking a lot about how that's drawn in media, and I took a lot of inspiration from illustrations of the Joker.

There aren't really any substantial doodles of the firework bit. It was mostly just me faffing around in the digital version!

[pookiesdairy]

GenV: Marie Moreau x Jordan Li

Part 1

Summary : The class schedules are out and Marie finds out that she’s not enrolled into the crimefighting programme. She goes to the school to find out of if there’s been an error on her timetable. When she reaches the office she comes into contact with Professor Brink’s T.A. Jordan Li.

wordcount: 1.6 k

They/them pronouns used for Jordan Li.

currently unedited...

Author's notes: this is just my interpretation of what went down in the first episode lol. The other parts will drift off from the main plot of the show and will contain lots of smut hehehe. Enjoy xxx

Trigger Warning : 18+ only!, corruption kink, power dynamic, public humiliation, angst, punishment undertones, undertones of smut, intense!Jordan, desperate!Marie.

This Fanfic contains A LOT OF SPOILERS BEWARE

Marie takes a deep breath as she steadies herself before opening the main entrance door to the reception area, where she finds someone hunched over the desk leading to the professor’s office.

The person looks oddly familiar. It’s a woman, dark hair cut short, with a round face, delicate soft features with little to no makeup on. Despite herself, Marie sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of her. She had never seen a more beautiful woman, even with a fuckass bob, an oversized sweater, a pearl chocker necklace, and large, obnoxious golden rings on. She can’t stop staring.

Walking closer to the desk, Marie immediately knew damn well who she was. She knew what they were. Yet it didn’t stop her from confirming. "Jordan, right?" Marie asks in awe and continues nervously, “Jordan Li... First of all, you’re awesome—I mean, WOW! Ranked number two in the whole school... I”.

Jordan bored out of their minds and says, `“Yeah, if you want Professor Brink’s autograph, you gotta buy his book”. They must have felt her eyes on them, but they don’t even bother looking up at her as they continue ruffling through papers on the desk. Jordan’s expression remained indifferent, in stark contrast to Marie’s quiet determination.

Marie, still staring intensely and feeling slightly embarrassed, awkwardly stutters, “Oh. No, that’s not why I’m here. Um Uh. There’s clearly been a mistake. I-I signed up for Brink’s Freshmen Intro to Crimefighting, but it’s not in my schedule”. She had only seen Jordan on TV, and this was the first time seeing them in person, so she felt slightly intimidated.

“What’s your name?” Jordan asks her, slowly turning to the computer. "Moreau...Marie" keys immediately start clacking as Jordan looks her up in the system. “Marie Moreau”.

A little smile forms on Jordan’s lips, and they say aloofly, “Oh, yeah, I see the problem. You were rejected”. Marie can barely focus as she stares at Jordan's juicy, plump lips, but the words seem far away. Her skin felt flush.

“Wh-What? What do you mean? I-I , like, quadruple checked the forms,” Marie says pathetically with a look of disbelief all over her face.

Jordan chuckled, eyeing Marie up and down “Yeah, we just don’t have space for everyone”. Marie tensed at the eye contact, her heart racing.

In that moment, Jordan really looked at her and realised how cute she looked, all flustered and desperate. Her little reactions: her fists balled together, legs fidgeting, nose all scrunched up, lips parted, eyes wide and pleading. They felt an odd little rush of excitement in their chests as Marie continued begging and started walking even closer to the desk. “No, but I have to take... Intro. Everyone who majors in crime fighting takes Intro”.

Jordan might have pitied her if she hadn’t made this harder for herself and too easy for them. Everyone knew to never bother Jordan Li and to never waste their precious time. Marie’s pretty little head hasn’t registered it yet.

“Look, most freshmen show up; they think they’ll major in crimefighting, crush their combat and forensics classes, and score a city contract, but they won’t. I mean, you’re competing with kids who have cleared homicide cases and who have over a million followers”.

Jordan inhales deeply and sighs, “And you..." before looking back at a spreadsheet with all of Marie’s stats.

“You don’t even have an Insta” they chuckle mockingly and go back to typing, shooing her with, "Now, I kind of have to get back to this ”.

The harshness of Jordan’s words hurt but also made Marie's stomach flutter and her thighs squeeze together. With a look of annoyance on her face, she asks, “Can I talk to Professor Brink about this?” Jordan immediately responds with a "no," still typing. They then look up at Marie deadpan and say, “I made the call. I’m his T.A.” before going back to looking at the computer. This didn’t stop Marie from arguing with the devil’s shadow. Her stubbornness had already gotten her this far.

Pausing at their words, Marie’s face hardens. “Hold on. This was your  decision?" . There is growing tension in the air as she leans towards Jordan loudly asks, “Who are you to reject me?”. In that instant, Jordan wanted to bend her over their lap and teach her a lesson.

“His T.A.” Jordan retorts with a sexy but smug smile. Marie felt her cheeks heat up at their facial expression and the heat of her arousal in the pit of her stomach, which only made her feel hotter.

The sound of the professor’s door opening cuts through the tension between the two, and they both turn to look at it just as Professor Brinks walks out with a shotgun pointed directly at Jordan.

"Jordan,” the professor calls out, walking towards them before he proceeds to shoot them in the chest.

Jordan leans back, quickly switches to their masculine side, and gets hit with the bullet. They barely flinch and smirk as they move their now large, veiny hand to grab the bullet shell off their sweater and drop it on the desk.

Marie jumps and exclaims, “What the fuck?" in utter shock and horror.

Marie gasps at the sudden transformation. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t stop herself from noticing Jordan’s hair is even shorter and slicked back, his jaw sharper, his eyebrows thicker, his shoulders broader, and his chest filling out the previously baggier sweatshirt. With a very obvious tent poking his pants. No doubt, Jordan made a very handsome man. Their handsome face was making Marie even more flustered.

Brink laughs heartily: “Goddamn, that’s the fastest draw I’ve ever seen”. Jordan, smirking mischievously, dusts himself off before pointing to the hole in his sweater and saying, “Uh, you're going to need to buy me a new shirt, Professor”. Brink chuckles, "Oh, hey, sorry, champ,” and looks at Jordan he's shadow adoringly before he pulls a white handkerchief from his pocket and begins to wipe his shotgun.

Jordan, in turn, nonchalantly picks up a diary from their desk and starts reading out the professor's schedule. “Good morning, America wants to interview you about ‘how Brink’s technique with super kids can help you with your kid's.".

The professor says, bored “Tell them to read my book”. Marie forced her eyes away from Jordan and quickly said, “I’ve read your book,” staring desperately at the professor. The professor finally looks up from his gun and acknowledges Marie. She continues, “I’ve read all of your books." Jordan rolls their eyes, interrupts her, and says “I’ve already handled this, sir”.

Marie says, “Sir She...” and Jordan sharply looks at Marie, and she looks back and quickly changes her words, “I mean, he... they..." before turning to the professor and finishing, “Rejected me into your intro class. But they’re dead wrong. They don’t know meee”. Marie couldn’t help but let out the whine working its way into her voice, despite her best efforts to hide her simmering anxiety and arousal.

“That so?” The professor replies before shooting Jordan a knowing look of amusement and entertaining her little rant.

He slowly begins to angle his body towards his office as Marie says, “It’s not about the talent; it’s about the drive. Right?” nodding her head in desperation, hoping and longing to hear her childhood hero confirm what she believes to be true. And he nods back, and a glimmer of hope and determination enters her eyes as she says something ragged and desperate. “And that’s me. I could go all the way. I just... I just need a chance ”.

He looks at her with pity, softly pats her head, and says, “Performing Arts is a fine programme," before turning full, walking into his office, and closing the door behind him.

Marie turns to Jordan with a look of dejection in her teary eyes, and she finds them with a full-blown smile on their faces, all their front teeth gleaming under the florescent lighting. Jordan can’t help the laughter that escapes them.

“Fuck you, Jordan." Marie chokes out as Jordan winks at her "Gladly Sweetheart” and gets back to typing as she angrily flips them the bird and stomps out of the office humiliated.

Jordan feels an even larger tingle in their chest and an unfamiliar knot twisted in their neither region. And they assume it’s coming from the adrenaline from getting shot by his mentor. But Jordan has been rock hard for the past 30 minutes.

Staring down at their crotch, Jordan realises that he might have just found something—no, someone—better than the drugs and school ranking—a much more rewarding conquest. How beautiful… How foolish of Marie to almost make an enemy out of the future number one of the school!

Jordan wanted to make her beg. They had to make Marie theirs. They needed to corrupt Marie’s pretty little head and make her know her place. With her kneeling and her chatty mouth snug on their cock and clit.

Jordan knew just who to call to help them with this particular dilemma. They would call Cate. Cate Dunlap.

[generic-sonic-fan]

in one of your fics, i think it was the funeral talk one with team dark? omega stated that he was going to go play "VIOLENT VIDEO GAMES" did he really play violent video games? if so what kind? if not violent video games, question still stands, what kind?

Oh he absolutely plays violent video games! They're one of the ways he satisfies his urge for destruction when there's no Badniks to destroy. First-Person Shooters are his all-time favorite!

Prepare for a long and rambly post beneath the cut:

He's a sucker for any DOOM game (except for DOOM 3, which is a little too stealth-based for his tastes) and his particular favorite is DOOM 2016! He loves the high-intensity action, he loves the more open-ended approach he can take to each arena, and he loves the gore!!! He also really enjoys how the only meatbag you're forced to interact with in the game is the insane antagonist who you're trying to kill.

(He knows that Doomguy is a meatbag, but he's deemed Doomguy to be in the special category of meatbag that Shadow and Rouge are also in. AKA Omega would be besties with Doomguy in an instant if Doomguy were real.)

Oh, and he also has the original DOOM 1993 downloaded directly on his own hard drive, so that way if he's ever caught having to wait he has something to do. He's gotten to the point where he's unintentionally speedrunning the game because of how many times he's played through it.

Another one of his favorite games is Ultrakill, duh. The movement was a little difficult for him to get the hang of- DOOM's slower run-and-gun style is more similar to his combat IRL and therefore more intuitive to him -but he's mastered it by now. He likes it for a lot of the same reasons that he likes DOOM- guns, gore, and no meatbags to be found. V1 is his personal idol honestly. He doesn't really care for the lore though, which is a shame.

Other games he's played are Halo and Gears of War:

Halo was like a 6/10 for him. It's a tad too slow for him. He actually skips all the cutscenes, which is hilarious. Ironically his favorite game of the series is Halo 5 because that game sped up the movement a little bit, made some of the enemies robots (yayyy destroying robots! his favorite hobby!), and allowed Cortana to go apeshit, which he was rooting for since day 1.

He considers Gears of War to be a puzzle game. (Which is. . . really weird if you know anything about this game.) You see, Gears of War is even slower than Halo, and it's based around a punishing cover system. You have to know when the best moments are to leave cover and shoot or advance forward. Omega plays it when he's in the rare mood for something more cerebral than "Enemies in front of me, must shoot them". He also skips all the cutscenes in this one because he finds all the human characters annoying. If he could turn off the squad member NPCs he would. He too participates in the time-honored Gears of War tradition of shooting Dom on accident because he looks just like a fucking enemy.

Some other games that he's tried but didn't like:

Titanfall 2. The gunplay was fun, but he fucking hated the story and the unskippable cutscenes. He hates BT and Jack Cooper with a passion- they're way too sentimental and whiny for him.

The Call of Duty series is. . . eh? He usually will play them when they come out, but it's a very rare one that he'll actually like. There's usually too many humans and the action setpieces are too tame for his tastes.

He has a love-hate relationship with the original Borderlands. The combat is a blast but the RNG weapons and the quest-taking format was never his favorite. He prefers more linear campaigns without the implication that the protagonist he's playing as is doing any kind of service for the local meatbag population.

And don't even talk to him about Borderlands 2+3. The characters are just too annoying for him.

Anyways, to finish off this long ramble of a post, let me talk about some other genres of games that he could at least sort-of like:

He can't stand normal puzzle games, but he watched a let's play of Portal 1+2 and immediately fell in love with GLaDOS.

Strategy games are off the table but he could be persuaded by a tower defense game. I think he'd like Defense Grid: Awakening if he ever had the patience to try it.

Other games where you cause wanton destruction could catch his interest, such as Kill It With Fire! (A game where you kill spiders. With machines guns and flamethrowers. Lots of fun.)

Minecraft, but only if he's playing on his friends' server, and only if he gets a diamond sword and TNT. He's the one blowing up villages because he thinks it's funny. He might have more fun on a modern patch with the new combat-focused trial chambers.

Among Us, with the friend group, because of course. He's a total troll even when he's not imposter because he thinks it's funny.

These are my headcanons for him! If you have any other games you think he'd like, you should add them onto this post :)

[toskarin]

some design rambles on Jetkaiser's combat system below the break. not particularly well-articulated, and expect a lot of unexplained jargon here if you haven't been following my rambles for a while now lol

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Holy Arts and Techniques in Armored Blade Jetkaiser take the place of spells or skills in other ttrpgs. notably, their usage is not only encouraged by intense situations, but enabled strongly by desperation

while Techniques often have their own pool of uses before they start costing resources, Holy Arts always dip into a resource, and that resource is (excepting in very rare circumstances where a character might have developed some highly specialised abilities) Blood, which can be viewed as "the closest thing to a health value the game has, tracked only through its absence"

when a player takes damage, it's not really tracked. if something gets under your armour, you're wounded, and when a player has two stacks of wounds, they're killed. this holds true for enemies as well, and because of that, combat is inherently more about forcing a gap in your enemy's armour to hit the soft inside than it is about chipping at a health pool

the first time a character enters combat from a rested state, their blood pool fills. each time a character is wounded, their blood pool refills entirely, returning them to full fighting (if not enduring) strength. if the situation requires, a character can wound themselves to force an earlier refill of blood

there's a few design questions inherent to this, mostly around a very familiar issue in D&D-derived games (combat experimentation is discouraged by heavy consequences), so I ended up with a question to drop into my own hands:

how could Jetkaiser, on a very basic level as a game, encourage scenarios where a player character feels comfortable playing aggressively?

after all, directional armour aside, players only have a single health point of buffer before they're, theoretically, at risk of receiving a character death. if skills eat away at a pool of non-regenerating resource, why would a player ever risk using it?

the end result of this was the current system of wound-layering

when a character receives a wound for the first time in an encounter, this throws them into a state of sunder. several skills are set to fire off when a player is sundered, their blood pool refills, and nothing is really lost. I view this on the design side as the moment when your alarms would probably start screaming at you

in short, it's a serious place to be, but this will never kill a player

when a sundered player is hit again, they're presented a new option: crash their holy frame (the flying armour they wear) and receive a permanent penalty trait when combat concludes, or enter the second layer of wounds (torment)

when in torment, a player (or certain elite enemy) is willingly running the risk of much more debilitating harm. further injury at this point forces the character to crash, and post-combat, they roll 1d6 for each time this has happened to them before. if that number surpasses their blood pool's cap, the character dies

of course, even in the case of a success, a tormented character picks up worse penalties than if they'd crashed their frame earlier

I can't imagine the rules writeup of this will show up in the first playtests, just because I'm still wrestling the layout into a readable form, but so it goes

the wound system, at least, makes a really clean transfer to unmounted combat (carried out in roleplay) because it'd be a bit weird for characters who are more or less ace pilots to feel safe when fighting outside of their planes. if somebody pulls a gun, it should probably be at least a little bit more tense than ideal combat situations