#she was seventeen she was a literal child

[rxmye]

" 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 — For so long, he found art in his surroundings, nature was his muse . . who would've thought that he'd be able to find another muse, within you.

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / obsessive / unhealthy themes / I guess the reader is his 'hater' / perfectionist yandere / kind of egotistic yandere / he has a praise kink frfr / maybe a bit self centered . . / kind of unedited / also might appeal to ppl with a savior complex

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: I feel like Lore takes up a good chunk of this fic, but enjoy . . also might be one of my longest fics . .

He was a calming presence, and a thoughtful friend to all he called his own. Elegance took a human form, in Xavier Wilson—A beautiful work of art indeed . . Born presenting a talent that could rival many others in the industry.

From a young age, Xavier presented himself as a man of the arts, often drawing out vivid tapestries of his dreams or memories. He would often lose himself in the pages of his notebook, scribbling away with intricate drawings and stories, his mind was his own magnum opus.

However—people was never his strong suit. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, surely if he was as magnificent as those around him expressed, he'd most certainly be able to recreate the portraits of those around him?—But no, none of his portraits could compare to his various other works.

As he got a bit older, his mother decided to enroll him in classes that could help expand his talents, which ranged from various music lessons, theater (didn't end well), art history—etc . . .

Xavier let out a breathy sigh, staring at the keys of the grand piano absentmindedly—his gloved fingers gently glide over the keys, tired would be the best way to describe him as of right now—his professor had left an hour ago, yet Xavier couldn't find it in himself to move.

Truth be told, Xavier wasn't a fan of music, he preferred quiet solitude—and though he had long since gotten used to the sound of the piano, violin, and any of the other ridiculous instruments his mother was so keen on getting him to play—he still preferred the silence over all.

Over the course of time, Xavier disinterest towards music dimmed—Alongside his distaste towards instruments . . He figured the reason he disliked it so much was due to his inability to play as perfectly as his professor . . Xavier was a perfectionist, and anything he couldn't perfect was simply 'wrong' in his eyes, and as he reached his teen years, he accepted that fact wholeheartedly.

Xavier stood still, as his mother fixed his tie for him—he could do it himself but he let her enjoy this moment, she always disliked watching her son 'grow up so fast'—"are you nervous?", she asked softly, gently holding his hands, smiling so brightly.

'Am I nervous?—' he thought, clearly not. He felt calm, neutral even. It was his first big show, yet internally he knew that things would end well for him, he could feel it. He's always been lucky, in fact his father's nickname for him as a child was quite literally 'Puer aureus' which translated to 'the golden boy' from Latin.

He clicked his tongue, a common habit of his—especially when he wasn't being exactly truthful—he paused for a moment as if to think, then he smiled at his mother, "Just a bit, but I'll be fine" he spoke calmly, gently squeezing her hand to reassure her. "Don't worry, I've prepared well for this . . Haven't I?"

Praise, he adored praise, and that day he received quite a lot of it—not just from his parents, or acquaintances . . .—but crowds of people. Honestly, it stroked his ego, quite a bit . .

By seventeen years of age, Xavier's talent was known worldwide, his rise to fame quite massive and fast . . He had to attend class, while also hosting live performances and art galleries. (such a struggle, really . . .)

University admissions were coming around, and most of his friends had chosen what schools they plan on applying to—what path they plan on going into—what school they hope to go to the most, the conversation was an eye opener and yet it all felt so bitter.

Xavier tapped his pen on the table, zoning out from the conversation his friends were having . . only to zone back in when Neva spoke, "—so Xavier, have you decided where you'll be applying too . . ? I'm sure you'll get in."

He clicked his tongue in response, closing his eyes absentmindedly as he spoke, "To be honest, not really . . probably something arts related?", Xavier was about to speak up again but stopped himself, starring down at the table, a sigh escaping his lips.

"That seems like a waste of money", he looked up, starring at Oliver with questioning eyes, and Oliver quickly explained himself, "Art school is great and all—But it won't really make much of a difference for you, in fact the rules could restrict your talent . . It could be better for you to just try something new? You're good in school a degree outside of your comfort zone may be something good for you!"

He hated that his friend was right, he hated being wrong. He prided himself for always knowing what was best for himself and his abilities, and in a spur of pettiness he found himself taking art anyway, trying to prove his friend wrong . . even though he was well aware his intentions were pure in all ways.

Xavier had done well in his courses so far, and with his fame, he was breezing through classes—and yet, when the topics of portraits came up . . he found all that floating out the window.

None of the models they had for class, felt right—none of the art he did, felt authentic . . felt like himself, when it came to art, Xavier took everyone to paradise, his art felt like peace . . his art was calm . . his music was soft, lulling almost . .

Yet now, as he stared at his canvas, covered in mixed harsh colours, a vibrant mess of paint, his brushes wrecked, paint dripping from the easel . . It felt like anything but calm.

And that's when he dropped out, a question to his perfection would wreck the fragile image of himself he had created in his mind, a man so perfect and lucky in his own right a humbling experience like that was to never see the light of day.

Xavier found himself turning to something different, just like Oliver suggested, his alternatives were selective, yet he kept many paths open, Photography, fashion, and business were his top picks and things he found himself surprisingly enjoying . . Surely if he could paint and create melodies of such wonders, then he can stitch some fabric together, solve a few equations, and take a few photo's here and there just fine . . right?

A few years had past, and Xavier was now running his very own Luxury fashion line, he still hosted art galleries here and there, and composed music on the side, but his business took up most of his time.

But on his free days he'd turn to photography, taking pictures of things he sought comfort in . . and people, he'd often take pictures of unsuspecting people, pretty ones . . people not so pretty as well, just to try and recreate the life they had on a canvas . . yet somehow always failing to do so.

The moment Xavier found himself close, he'd reach a dead end . . and that destroyed him, internally.

Over the years, he accepted the small flaws in his behavior, and tried his best to reform them, presenting himself as the perfect public figure. He did go to therapy in the past, but when things started rising up, he quit entirely.

Xavier laid back on his office chair, and scrolled through his recent posts comment section, and as expected almost all of it was praise . . some of envy, but that only fueled his ego more . . Until he found a comment that set him off, "His art is so melancholy, it feels a bit sad . . His previous works were brighter, like more happy but now it kind of feels sad . . Like the life in his work isn't there anymore."

Xavier stared at the comment dumbfounded, never had he received that kind of feedback . . portraits he drew were indeed lifeless, but his other art was always regarded as lively, and that was what he always strived for . . Curious, and in a fit of rage . . he clicked on the commenters profile, and saw you.

You, you . . You were what he was looking for, his muse. So, full of life . . He scrolled through your page, and couldn't help but feel the urge to draw you, and paint you . . and paint you he did. . Because soon his entire studio was filled with pieces inspired by you . . so full of 'life' . . .

Yet at some point, he had reached the end of your posts, and it just wasn't enough . . he needed you . . He wanted your feedback, he craved your praise . . like no other, he wanted input . . he wanted to know if his work was truly still lifeless . . he wanted you.

After all, a artist isn't complete without his muse.

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[lizzyiii]

hi!! i have a request! what about a one shot for aemond x reader who is betrothed to him. she’s a baratheon girl or something but she gifts him the sapphire for his eye as a wedding gift or something along the lines of that?

ask and you shall receive...

The Sapphire Gift

pairing | aemond targaryen x baratheon!reader

word count | 5.1k words

summary | Of all his five daughters, Borros Baratheon has chosen you to be betrothed to Aemond Targaryen, much to your dismay. Seeking to forge a deeper connection with your betrothed, you decide to create the perfect wedding gift for him.

tags | fluff, fluff, toothrotting fluff, friends to lovers, aemond literally does not know how to communicate or court a lady, sarcastic!reader, awkward!reader, simp!Aemond, reader is just a typical seventeen-year-old girl, lowkey got second hand embarrassment writing this.

a/n | ooooh, this was so cutesy to write, I love writing awkward/sassy reader and simp/awkward aemond. Finished this in a solid 2 days💪. ALSOO I need moots, so anyway wanna volunteer as tribute????

likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated ✨

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Why must it be me?”

Your voice echoed through the grand hall of Storm’s End, the walls adorned with the sigil of the mighty Baratheons. You stood before your father, Borros Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End, arms crossed defiantly, your brows knit in frustration.

“Because I have chosen you,” he replied, a casual shrug dismissing your protests, as he lounged upon the imposing ironwood throne that commanded the room. The flickering torches cast shadows across his weathered face, but his resolve remained steadfast.

Your heart sank further as you protested, “You have four other daughters to choose from!”

Borros began to tally your sisters on his fingers, his expression serious yet unconcerned. “Cassandra is already pledged to House Brownhill, Maris is too old to be of interest, and Floris is still but a child. Ellyn might have been a contender, but she reminded me that you are more closely aligned in age to the prince, which I daresay makes you more appealing to his eye.”

You bit back a curse aimed at Ellyn, whose selfishness felt like a betrayal in this moment, and muttered, “Emphasis on the word ‘eye’.”

“Fawn!” your father snapped, the nickname a remnant of your childhood, now wielded like a blade.

With a huff, you cast your gaze towards your mother, Lady Elenda, seated on a modestly adorned stool that contrasted starkly with your father’s opulence. Her fingers deftly worked at her embroidery, her belly round and pregnant with another child. “Mother, do you have naught to say about this?”

Elenda blinked slowly, her expression momentarily vacant before she smiled dreamily, “I have heard the prince is kind and benevolent,” she replied, her tone light and airy as your father nodded approvingly at her words.

You gasped, a hand flying to your chest in disbelief. “That is a complete and utter falsehood! Tales of his cruelty and wickedness abound, even in these halls. How could you deceive me so?”

Borros waved a dismissive hand, the irritation brewing like a storm within him. “So what if he has but one eye? He commands Vhagar, the largest dragon in the realm, and wields a sword as if it were an extension of his very arm. You shall ascend to the rank of princess, lacking for nothing.”

“But Father—”

“Enough!” His voice boomed, reverberating off the stone walls and silencing the murmurs of guards and servants alike. You could feel the weight of his anger pressing down upon you. Sighing heavily, you rolled your eyes, the gesture laden with pettiness. “This matter is settled. Prepare yourself; tonight we shall feast in honor of your betrothal. Do not sulk—it is unbecoming of a future princess.”

With a final glare that could wither a flower, you turned on your heel, storming away from the throne room, your heart heavy with the weight of your new fate.

King’s Landing was an entirely different realm compared to the windswept fortress of Storm’s End. Here, the sun cast a golden glow over the Red Keep, its warmth caressing the bustling streets of Flea Bottom, while in your home, rain seemed a constant companion, drenching the rugged cliffs and soaking through the halls of your ancestral seat.

The city thrummed with life—vibrant and teeming—overwhelming in its sheer size and noise. In contrast, Storm’s End felt desolate, where the only sounds were the howling gales and crashing waves that eternally assaulted its walls.

Settling into the royal court at the Red Keep was no easy feat, for you were keenly aware of the eyes that followed your every move. You quickly learned that here, every smile concealed secrets, and every word was a weapon to be wielded.

Queen Alicent Hightower, the Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, carried herself with grace befitting her station. Her demeanor was gentle, yet there was a steeliness in her eyes that hinted at the strength behind her polished exterior. On your very first day in court, she welcomed you with a kind smile, her piety clear as she extended an invitation to join her at the Great Sept for prayer.

Her tone was soft, but her words carried the weight of duty. You accepted her offer, though the idea of spending time in such hallowed halls made you uneasy. Alicent's warmth masked the political currents swirling beneath the surface, and you were acutely aware that every gesture here had meaning beyond what was said.

Then there was her eldest son, Prince Aegon. The first time you laid eyes on him, he reeked of wine, his eyes glazed and unfocused. Despite his title, he carried none of the nobility one would expect from a dragon’s heir. His indulgences were well-known, and his lack of decorum often left the court murmuring in hushed tones.

Aegon's gaze lingered on you far too long for comfort, the weight of it unsettling, as if he sought something that wasn’t his to take. His lecherous nature made you feel for his sister-wife, Princess Helaena, who appeared as trapped by her marriage as she was by the walls of the Red Keep. It was said that Aegon had grown old before his time, his twenty-one years bearing the burden of his vices.

Princess Helaena was a stark contrast to her husband. There was an otherworldly grace to her, a softness that seemed untouched by the cruelties of life. She spoke in riddles, her voice often drifting into ethereal musings that left you both puzzled and intrigued. Her words, though strange, reminded you of the whispers of the gods in dreams, distant yet profound.

Her presence was soothing, and you found solace in her company, even if her mind wandered to places you could not follow. Her children, Jaehaera and Jaehaerys, were a light amidst the shadows of the court, their laughter pure and untainted by the scheming that surrounded them. It was hard to reconcile that they were the offspring of Aegon.

But your thoughts always returned to one person—your betrothed, Prince Aemond Targaryen. From the moment you arrived in King’s Landing, you had been told stories of his fearsome prowess in battle, his unmatched skill with the sword, and the fearsome dragon, Vhagar, that answered his call.

Yet when your eyes met his for the first time, what struck you most was not his strength but the scar that marred his face—a reminder of the price he had paid for his ambition. It only added to his allure, a mark of his relentless determination. When he took your hand and pressed a kiss to it, a slow heat rose in your cheeks. His grip was firm but not unkind, and in that moment, you felt yourself swoon. After all, you were just a girl.

However, Aemond was not a man easily won. A moon had passed since your arrival, and with your wedding fast approaching, you had hoped to spend time in his company, to know the man behind the dragonprince’s mask. Yet, he seemed to slip away from you at every opportunity, his presence a fleeting shadow that vanished the moment you tried to reach for him. His evasions frustrated you, each refusal to join you in the gardens or to share a quiet moment only deepened the chasm between you.

It was said that dragons could not be tamed, only respected. But you longed for more than respect from your future husband. How could you hope to win Aemond's heart if he remained as distant as the stars that twinkled in the night sky?

Determined to change your fate, you devised a plan—a gift to offer Aemond before the wedding, something personal and meaningful that might draw him closer to you. From your balcony, you had often watched him train, his sword catching the sunlight as he moved with lethal grace. You had also stalked observed him in quieter moments, lost in the pages of ancient tomes in the Red Keep’s vast library. But no matter the scene, your gaze always drifted to the black leather patch over his left eye, a constant reminder of his loss.

Through whispered conversations among the ladies of the court, you had pieced together the story of that eye, taken from him when he was but twelve, during a violent skirmish with his own nephew. The knife had found its mark, leaving him disfigured and scarred in more ways than one. You could hardly imagine the pain he endured, the maester's delicate, grim task of removing what remained. The very thought sent a chill through you—what it must have felt like to be forever changed, to carry such a wound into manhood.

Jewelry had always enchanted you, especially the way it could transform even the simplest of gowns into something regal. And it was through that love of adornment that inspiration struck. Aemond needed something beautiful, something that would not only adorn him but perhaps bring a glimmer of warmth to that hardened exterior.

After much thought, you settled on a sapphire, deep and blue like the narrow seas, cut and shaped like an eye—a symbol of his lost strength and newfound resilience. It was a bold choice, one that you hoped would capture his attention, something that might resonate with the prince who had suffered so much.

With the sapphire crafted into an exquisite piece of jewelry, you wrapped it carefully, your heart filled with anticipation. The wedding drew closer with each passing day, and the idea of giving Aemond this token before the vows were exchanged consumed your thoughts. Would such a gift be enough to draw him out of the shadows, to make him see you as more than just his betrothed but as someone who truly wished to know him?

Desperation fueled your resolve. You decided to visit his chambers, scandalous though it might be, under the cover of night. It was unheard of for a lady to seek out a man in such a manner, but propriety seemed insignificant in the face of your growing desire to understand him.

Wrapped in a dark cloak to hide your identity from prying eyes, the gift cradled carefully in your hand, you navigated the winding, dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep. The moon hung high above the castle, casting eerie shadows along the stone walls as you walked with purpose toward his door.

Apprehension seized you as you approached, a wave of doubt crashing over you. What if he rejected your offering? What if he saw it as nothing more than a futile attempt to win his affection, which it kind of was. Yet before those thoughts could take root, you steeled yourself and knocked firmly on the heavy oak door, your heart pounding in your chest.

Moments passed in silence, each one stretching endlessly until, at last, you heard the soft thud of boots approaching from within. The door creaked open, and there he stood—Prince Aemond Targaryen. His long, silver hair cascaded freely over his shoulders, almost camouflaged against the loose white shirt he wore, which clung to the contours of his lean, muscular frame.

His single violet eye regarded you with a mixture of surprise and caution, the flickering light of the torches casting shadows across his sharp features. You found yourself momentarily breathless, caught off guard by the quiet intensity of his presence.

His gaze flicked to the dark cloak you wore, then back to your face, a question lingering unspoken between you. “My lady,” he began, his voice slow and deliberate, “it is late.”

You nodded quickly, casting a nervous glance down the dimly lit corridor. “Yes, I realize. May I come in?”

His lips tightened as though he was about to refuse, but before the words could escape him, you slipped past the threshold into the warmth of his chambers, your heart racing with a mix of adrenaline and nervous energy.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your gaze darting around the room, absorbing the details: the few books strewn across the table, the rich, intricate tapestries that adorned the stone walls, and the soft glow of firelight dancing in the hearth.

Aemond's voice was closer than expected when he spoke again. “My lady,” he repeated, causing you to jump slightly at his nearness.

You turned abruptly, releasing a nervous laugh. In the next moment, you remembered the purpose of your visit and hastily thrust the small, wrapped parcel into his hands. “I—I’ve brought you a gift.”

His brow furrowed in surprise as he looked down at the object now resting in his palm. “A gift?”

You offered a tight, awkward smile, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. “A wedding gift, of sorts.”

You watched intently as he carefully opened the small package, revealing the deep blue sapphire you had commissioned. His expression remained guarded, though curiosity danced in his gaze. “What is this for?” he asked, his voice even.

Swallowing hard, you wrung your hands together and took a deep breath. “I thought… perhaps you might wear it in place of your eye patch.”

Aemond's eyebrow arched, his lone eye narrowing in sharp scrutiny. “A decoration for my injury?” There was no malice in his tone, but the words still cut deep.

Your heart sank, panic rising in your chest as you hurried to explain. “No, no! Not like that. I only thought…” Your voice faltered as the words tumbled out, your face flushing with embarrassment. “I thought the eye patch might be… suffocating at times. The sapphire—it’s strong and regal, like you. I thought it might be more—well, appealing. Not that your injury is unappealing, of course!”

You cringed inwardly, realizing how foolish you must sound. Eyes cast downward, you continued, “Sapphires are a symbol of wisdom, strength, and royalty. It felt fitting for you. But if I’ve overstepped, I’ll take it back.” You bit your lip, the weight of your own awkwardness pressing down on you. “Truly, it’s alright.”

Reaching out to reclaim the stone, you found your hand halted by his. His touch was firm, yet not unkind. “No,” Aemond said, his voice quieter now, almost contemplative. “I accept your gift, my lady.”

Relief flooded through you, though you could hardly bear to meet his gaze under the weight of your own mortification. Without thinking, you blurted out the first excuse that came to mind. “Oh! I just remembered—I’m to have tea with your mother.”

Aemond's gaze drifted to the window where the full moon hung high in the night sky. He raised an eyebrow, a subtle amusement curling at the edge of his lips. “At this hour?”

You nodded hastily, your laugh high-pitched with nerves. “Yes, well, a late tea, you see.”

Before he could respond further, you turned toward the door, only to misjudge the frame and bump into it with an audible thud. The embarrassment was almost too much to bear. “I wish you a good night, my prince,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper as you hurried out.

As you fled down the darkened corridor, you missed the rare sight behind you—the amused smirk that tugged at Aemond's lips and the way his expression softened as he gazed down at the sapphire, the light of the fire casting its blue hue across his hand. Intrigue flickered in his eye, a hint of something deeper, as he tucked the gem into his palm, the gift having made a more lasting impression than you could ever have imagined.

And now it was you doing everything in your power to avoid your betrothed. After that utterly humiliating encounter, where you had gifted Prince Aemond the sapphire for his eye, you had nearly thrown yourself from the balcony in shame. Every misstep, every nervous word, echoed relentlessly in your mind. The way he had looked at you, as though you were nothing more than a foolish girl… you could hardly bear it.

That night, you had made peace with a simple truth: it was perfectly acceptable if Aemond did not like you. You would fulfill your duty as his wife, give him heirs, and that would be the extent of your relationship. Yet, even as you tried to harden your heart, you couldn’t deny the yearning deep within you for something more—a connection, affection, or at the very least, understanding. But you’d sooner face a dragon than approach him again after such mortification.

Now, you found refuge in the company of Princess Helaena, sharing tea in her sunlit solar, where tapestries of butterflies and flowers adorned the walls. Helaena sat in her usual reverie, speaking in disjointed whispers about dreams and prophecies. You had grown fond of her strange, otherworldly nature, even if much of what she said left you puzzled.

Today, however, your tea was constantly interrupted by the young Princess Jaehaera, who was determined to climb into your lap as you attempted to drink. “You have such pretty hair,” she said, her small hands reaching to touch the loose strands that framed your face, her voice filled with innocent awe.

You smiled warmly, gently lifting a strand of her silver-gold hair to place beside your own. “Not as pretty as yours, my sweet princess,” you said softly. The Targaryen blood ran strong in the little girl, her pale locks shimmering like spun moonlight under the midday sun.

As Jaehaera continued to braid a piece of your hair, her twin brother, Prince Jaehaerys, was nestled in your lap, completely absorbed in a heavy tome recounting Aegon the Conqueror’s rise to power. You marveled at the child’s focus, noting how his somber demeanor contrasted starkly with his sister’s. It was strange, you thought, for a boy of only five summers to be so intent on reading a history so grim. His brow furrowed in concentration, a seriousness far beyond his years.

"You’ll grow to be as wise as your grandsire with all this reading, my prince," you commented with a chuckle, though you could not help but feel a touch of unease at how much the young boy seemed to carry the weight of his family’s legacy on his small shoulders.

Jaehaera giggled, abandoning your hair to cling to your arm. “I want to ride a dragon, like Vhagar!”

The mention of Vhagar brought an involuntary shiver down your spine, the thought of that ancient, fearsome beast ever-present in your mind. The mighty she-dragon’s rider, your betrothed, had taken to avoiding you as much as you had him, and though part of you was relieved, another part, buried deeper, ached at the distance.

As you entertained the children, Princess Helaena’s lilting voice broke the calm. "He dreams of fire and blood, my son," she said, her gaze unfocused as she stared at the window, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her cup. "As do we all."

You offered a polite smile, uncertain whether to respond or remain silent..

Your gaze shifted, drawn by the soft, deliberate sound of footsteps echoing through the confines of Helaena's solar. As you looked up, you immediately lowered your eyes, your heart racing, warmth flooding your cheeks as fluttering butterflies stirred restlessly in your stomach. Aemond strode through the door, his very presence commanding the room without a single word.

You felt his gaze upon you, sharp and intense. Jaehaera squealed with delight beside you, calling out, “Kepūs!” Her excitement was palpable as she clambered off your lap, rushing to his side. Even Jaehaerys, who had been so engrossed in his book, set it aside to greet his uncle.

You dared a glance up to find something unexpected—a soft, almost tender smile tugging at Aemond’s lips as he looked down at the children. The rare sight caught you off guard, but before you could process it, his expression shifted, and he cleared his throat, turning his attention to Helaena.

“Sister,” he began, his voice steady, respectful yet commanding. “Might I steal a moment of Lady Baratheon’s time?”

Helaena, oblivious to the way your pulse quickened, nodded lightly, her gentle smile untouched by the tension you now felt. “Of course, brother,” she replied, her tone light and dreamlike, as though she sensed nothing of the undercurrent between you and Aemond.

You felt the weight of their eyes upon you—Helaena’s distant curiosity, Jaehaera’s wide-eyed innocence, and Aemond’s watchful, unreadable gaze. You rose slowly from your seat, smoothing the folds of your gown as you murmured a soft farewell to the princess and her children, acutely aware of how unsteady your voice sounded.

Aemond stood patiently, waiting as you gathered yourself. His tall figure loomed over you, but there was no sense of impatience in his posture. When you stepped out of the solar, he turned and led the way into the dimly lit corridor, his footsteps echoing against the stone walls in perfect rhythm with yours.

The silence between you grew heavier with each step, and the farther you ventured down the shadowed halls of the Red Keep, the more you became aware of where he was leading you—back toward his chambers.

Your palms began to sweat, and your heart pounded with a growing unease. Why had he sought you out? Why now, after so many days of avoidance?

The corridor felt impossibly long, each step building the tension. Aemond’s back remained straight, his silver hair brushing the fabric of his black tunic, his long strides forcing you to quicken your own pace just to keep up.

When you finally reached the familiar door to his chambers, he paused, turning to face you, his one violet eye locking onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. The silence stretched, thick and charged, as though the air between you crackled with words unspoken.

"You’ve been avoiding me, my lady," Aemond murmured, his piercing gaze sweeping over you as you walked into his chambers.

Your eyes widened just a fraction, masking your surprise with a nervous laugh. “Why on earth would you insinuate something like that?”

His voice, soft but steady, echoed from behind you as you stepped further into the dim warmth of his room. "Perhaps because every time I enter a room, you are always the first to leave."

Fidgeting with your fingers, you murmured, "I suspect you are just seeing things, my prince."

A slight smirk tugged at his lips as he replied, “Mayhaps it’s just my one eye.”

Your head snapped up in shock at his words, but before you could respond, you noticed the faint curve of amusement in his lips. For the first time since your engagement, you let out a genuine laugh, tilting your head. “Oh, so you can jest,” you teased, though you couldn’t help but wrinkle your nose in playful disapproval. “Though your delivery needs some work.”

Aemond’s smirk deepened, a flicker of something warmer in his gaze. “I shall endeavor to improve,” he replied with dry humor, his voice low.

For a moment, your eyes locked, the silence between you charged with a tension that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. But then he cleared his throat, breaking the moment. “I called you here for a reason,” he said, his tone shifting as he turned away, walking toward his desk.

Your curiosity piqued as you watched him retrieve something—a finely crafted box, larger than you expected. He carried it with the same ease as he handled his sword, and yet there was a certain weight to his movements. He approached you, his expression unreadable, and extended the box in an indifferent manner. "A wedding gift," he said simply.

Your heart fluttered as you took the box, your fingers trembling slightly. As you lifted the lid, your breath caught in your throat. Inside lay a necklace—silver, adorned with diamonds that glimmered like starlight, white pearls cascading from its base, and at the center, a magnificent sapphire, almost mirroring the sapphire you had gifted him. It was stunning, more than anything you had ever imagined.

“Wow,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, as if the beauty of the necklace had stolen the air from your lungs.

Aemond’s voice softened, a note of vulnerability threading through his usual composure. “Do you like it?”

You met his gaze, your eyes bright with genuine surprise and gratitude. “Yes, yes, of course,” you breathed, a shy smile tugging at your lips as your heart raced with something more than just relief.

You looked at him, pure joy lighting up your face, entirely unaware of the soft, almost tender look in Aemond's eye as he observed you. Nodding eagerly, you gestured to the necklace. "Will you put it on me?"

Aemond inclined his head in silence, taking the necklace from its box as he motioned for you to turn around. You did so, gathering your hair and lifting it to reveal your neck. The warmth of his presence grew closer, and when his fingers brushed against your skin to secure the clasp, you couldn’t help but wonder if the caress was deliberate or merely your imagination.

When his hands finally withdrew, you released the breath you had been holding. Turning to face him, you tilted your chin up slightly. "How does it look?"

For a moment, Aemond’s gaze lingered on you, his eye fixed on your face with an unreadable intensity before it drifted down to your neck. "Your neck looks... long."

Your brow furrowed, confusion knitting your features. "My neck looks long?"

Aemond coughed, a rare sign of discomfort, and you could swear you caught the faintest hint of pink on his pale cheeks. He quickly amended his words, mumbling, "I mean, it looks nice. The necklace brings out your eyes."

A sheepish smile tugged at your lips as you nodded, feeling warmth bloom in your chest. "Thank you, my prince."

For a brief moment, your eyes flickered to the eye patch that hid his injury, wondering if the sapphire you had gifted him lay beneath. The thought of it being there, close to him, filled you with an unspoken sense of connection. You felt content to simply stand there, the moment shared between you without the need for words. But Aemond, shifting slightly under your gaze, seemed less at ease.

“I am late for training,” he said, his tone distant as though eager to escape.

You narrowed your eyes playfully, tilting your head in mock suspicion. “I thought you only trained in the mornings?”

His posture straightened, fists clenching at his sides as he looked away, clearly caught in his lie. The silence that followed made him glance toward the window. “It’s... a beautiful day.”

You hummed softly in agreement, not pressing him any further. “Yes, it is.”

Aemond hesitated for a moment before his eye met yours again, the faintest trace of vulnerability in his voice. “Mayhaps you would be interested in a walk in the castle gardens?”

Your heart skipped, and it took everything within you to suppress the wide grin threatening to break free. You feigned contemplation for a moment before nodding with as much grace as you could muster. “I would love to, my prince.”

And though Aemond kept his face composed, you couldn’t help but notice the slight softening of his expression at your acceptance.

In Aemond's eyes, despite your apparent obliviousness to his growing feelings, it was not hard to fall in love with you. There was a quiet strength in the way you carried yourself, a delicate blend of grace and fire that intrigued him.

He had always been reserved, more comfortable in the company of books and the sound of steel clashing in the training yard than in the presence of others. But with you, there was something different, something that drew him in against his better judgment.

Your laugh, though soft, echoed in his mind long after you left the room. The way your eyes sparkled with genuine warmth when you spoke to him—even when you were nervous—was a stark contrast to the calculated interactions he was used to at court.

You were not scheming, not vying for his favor or power. You were simply... you. And perhaps that was what made it so easy for his walls to crumble, little by little, without even realizing it.

When you smiled up at him, asking him to place the necklace around your neck, his heart had skipped a beat. It was such a simple request, yet the intimacy of it made him feel more vulnerable than any duel or battle could. In those moments, he found himself wondering what it would be like to let his guard down, to let you see the man behind the stoic façade.

Even now, as he led you through the corridors of the Red Keep, heading toward the gardens, Aemond couldn’t help but steal glances at you. Your presence beside him felt... right. The idea of loving you was no longer something he fought against; instead, it was a slow, inevitable truth that settled in his chest.

In time, he hoped you would see it too.

Headcannon: reader only sees the sapphire in his eye on their wedding night

Headcannon: this is before the dance of dragons and viserys is still alive

Headcannon: aemond is 18 and reader is 17

Ages of the Baratheon daughters:

Cassandra - 25

Maris - 22

Ellyn - 19

Reader (fawn) - 17

Floris - 13

ALSO you cannot change my mind - after having four daughters (canon) Borros Baratheon is def a girl dad!

Hope you enjoyed 💜

[lovelyhan]

— down bad (so so bad) ⟢

it’s not like you’re curious about how the word would taste in your mouth whenever seungcheol calls himself daddy while talking to kkuma. nope. definitely not. 

★ FEATURING; seungcheol x pet-sitter!reader (ft. exo's sehun just 'cause LOL)

★ WORD COUNT; 5.7k words 

★ TAGS; friends to lovers, lots of denial, a twinge of fluff, ��smut

★ WARNINGS; graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; if u see me reposting this for the third time, no you didn't!!!!! JDKFGDJFKGGH i'm so sorry i should be working on one last enemies 2 lovers request, but the influx of kkuma content in seventeen street got the better of me,,

this is part of the doting on you! series.

★ SMUT TAGS; getting caught, vaginal fingering, oral (f receiving), daddy kink, dom!seungcheol, praise kink, nicknames (baby, sweetheart, pretty thing, princess), reader is touch-starved AF

★ SVT TAGLIST; @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @spk93 - @tommolex - @stariightjoyy - @asjkdk - @horny4hoshi - @asjkdk - @stariightjoyy - @jiniesclub

★ SEUNGCHEOL TAGLIST; @changk6un - @renjunphile - @pluviophile-xxx - @noveniadelia

You spend a lot of time convincing yourself it’s not a big deal.

Because it most definitely isn’t. You live in a part of the city where there just happens to be a lot of idol and celebrity residences nearby, and ever since you’ve established yourself as a pretty decent pet-sitter, they’ve been enlisting your services much more than you initially expected.

But for some reason, every time the leader of that boy group whose dorm is right across the street comes to you with the most spoiled baby princess in his arms, it suddenly becomes a big deal. A huge, ginormous, larger-than-life—

“Hey.” Seungcheol grins, already dressed for today’s schedule from the looks of it. “I heard Sehun-hyung dropped off his dog yesterday, but we kinda have to squeeze in a last-minute shoot this afternoon, so…”

As if privy to the mention of his name, Sehun’s dog—a Bichon named Vivi—barks from your living room. He takes a peek behind the entryway to curiously peer at who’s at the door, but doesn’t make any moves to come out altogether. His presence makes Seungcheol’s dog, Kkuma shrink into her owner’s arms, almost whining. 

“Aww, baby, don’t be like that. You’ve played with Vivi before, right?” Seungcheol coos and you have to stifle a laugh at how he adjusts the pretty bow on her head before turning back to you. “So, uh, is it alright to double book you? I’ll be back for her tonight. Promise.”

Normally, you would’ve refused. Though you work from home, you don't want your attention spread too thin when you’re looking after a client’s pet. This is one of the main reasons why you mostly just pet-sit one at a time, but it’s as if the universe is intent on using your silly attraction to Choi Seungcheol against you—your usual terms and conditions be damned.

“Yeah, I think Sehun’s picking up Vivi later this afternoon, so it’s no big deal,” you reassure him before petting Kkuma affectionately. “You wanna go on a walk with Vivi later, Kkuma?”

Seungcheol told you once that his precious daughter is extremely picky about who gets to pet her and who should maintain a one-meter distance at all times. So when Kkuma has obviously taken a liking to you right off the bat, he knew she was in safe hands. Not to mention the assortment of positive reviews he’s heard about you from other idol friends in passing—he’d be an idiot not to ask for your help when you literally live right across the street. 

Lucky him that you’ll do anything for him if it meant you could have the pleasure of seeing Seungcheol right at your doorstep—flashing you that adorable, dimpled smile before he drops off or picks up his only child from your care.

Not like he has to know any of that, of course. 

“Oh, thank you so much,” Seungcheol groans with relief, shifting Kkuma into your arms before patting her head reassuringly. “My dad was supposed to pick her up from the dorms today, but something came up at home and he couldn’t make the trip. I owe you big time.” 

You chuckle at his gratefulness all while your heart swells as Kkuma nuzzles your chest. What an adorable little thing. “You know my bank account, Seungcheol-ssi.”

He shakes his head with a laugh. “I know you’re just messing around but really, you can call me Cheol. I think I’ve called in enough favors from you to be familiar at least.”

“Those aren’t favors, Cheol. You literally pay me three times more than you have to whenever Kkuma comes over,” you half-jest, startling a little when you notice Vivi circling your legs as he tries to sniff at the dog in your arms. “Anyway, shoo! Won’t you be late for your schedule? I’m sure a playdate with Vivi is just what Kkuma needs to kill the time.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” he sighs before leaning forward to take Kkuma’s face in both of his large hands—pressing a loving kiss on top of her head. “You better be good, okay? Oh, I’m gonna miss you so much, baby.”

Kkuma’s tail wags at her father’s blatant affection and you can’t help the smile that creeps up your face. No matter how many times Seungcheol baby talks to his kid before taking his leave, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing such a side of him up close.

“Daddy’s gonna be back for you tonight. Promise. Oh, by the way, her vet put her on a sodium-free diet for a while, so don’t give her any treats. And…”

As Seungcheol fusses about Kkuma’s newly imposed feeding schedules and hands you a backpack full of pet care necessities, you find yourself zoning out—your head ringing with that one word that’s always made you a little flustered every time you heard it from Seungcheol’s mouth. 

“You get any of that?”

You blink, acutely aware of how Vivi has stood up on his hind legs, pawing at your thigh as he attempts to lick Kkuma’s face. When you realize that you’re just standing there like an idiot as Seungcheol waits for a response, you let out a dry laugh before setting Kkuma down on the floor.

“Yep, I only have to feed her once. Strictly two scoops. Not that I see you sticking to the feeding regimen though,” you tease while receiving the backpack from him. 

“You got me,” Seungcheol chuckles again. “Can’t ever say no to my princess when she gives me the puppy eyes and asks for another scoop. Luckily, you’re the one looking after her today, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take care of it.”

Once Seungcheol finally takes his leave, you let out a long-winded sigh—pressing your back against your front door as Kkuma looks up at you with those big, dark eyes. Vivi seems to have made his way back to the living room after the initial curiosity and you’re glad that you don’t have to round up two energetic pups when your heart is still pounding in your chest.

To your surprise, Kkuma walks up to you, nuzzling your leg with a whine. 

Laughing, you sink to your knees to give her a few scratches underneath her ears. Dogs can be so attuned to a human’s emotional distress, it’s a little amazing.

“What does it feel like to be able to call him daddy?” you joke as she lays on her back for some belly rubs that you have no problem giving. 

The moment the question slips from your lips, you find yourself groaning again as you recall the tight fit of the black turtleneck Seungcheol was wearing today. How it accentuated all the features the fabric was meant to emphasize. You can only imagine how it would feel like to be caged in those big, beefy arms—

Kkuma jolts from her comfortable position on the floor when you suddenly shoot back to your feet, but you only feel half as bad for startling her.

You’re down bad. So ridiculously bad. 

Sehun comes over to pick up Vivi about an hour after you got home from their walk. 

Like most of your clients, he usually shoots a text before dropping by, but he must’ve forgotten the usual protocol. So when you hear your doorbell go off while you’re in the middle of watching idol fancams on your TV, the internal panic is very much warranted. 

Vivi bounds straight into his owner’s arms the moment Sehun comes through the door and starts licking his face. You smile to yourself despite clearly looking disheveled from how comfortably you’ve been lounging in the living room, but you’re sure Sehun doesn’t mind.

“Oh? He’s got a little playmate?” He raises an eyebrow when Kkuma waddles over to help herself to some of his attention too. Despite how he looks, Sehun gives Kkuma a few pats. “Hmm… Isn’t this Seungcheol’s kid? Or is it Seungkwan’s? Mingyu’s? Their dogs look all the same to me sometimes.”

You snort before handing him Vivi’s bag of necessities that every doting pet owner has up their arsenal. “You were right the first time. I’ve never pet sat for Mingyu before and I’m sure Seungkwan’s dog is in Jeju with his family.” 

He nods in understanding before locking Vivi’s leash in place. “I see. Wouldn’t be surprised if they started to have you look after their pets too, though.” 

When Sehun’s all set, you both discuss payments and he gives you his word that he’ll have the money wired into your account when he gets back to his place. But just when you’re about to send him and Vivi off, he pauses—glancing at something behind your shoulder. 

Curious, you whip around to see what caught his attention and—

“Uh, it’s not what it looks like, I swear,” you stammer before throwing your arms out as if that’ll obstruct the view this six-foot idol has of your television screen. “I left YouTube on autoplay and I guess it paused when you arrived, and…”

Lies. You were in the middle of watching every single one of Seungcheol’s fancams before Sehun arrived and paused whatever was playing on screen. It just so happens that it slipped your mind that the screen froze at a very tantalizing part of his HOT fancam.

You’re not sure how you’re going to explain to Sehun that you don’t usually watch your clients' fancams like some closeted fan, but thankfully, he’s always been discreet about a lot of things. 

“Right,” he says, obviously unconvinced but seems that he won’t press further. “Well, we’re gonna head out now. Jongin-hyung might give you a call in the next few days, by the way. He’ll be busy promoting his solo debut for a while and Kyungsoo-hyung’s growing tired of all the fur in his apartment.” 

You nod swiftly, glad to have another business prospect right after this one just concluded. “Gotcha. See you again, Sehun.”

Once you’re all alone, you carry Kkuma to the living room—laying her down on the plush cushions of your couch before plopping helplessly right next to her. Thank god it’s Sehun who unknowingly bore witness to something so embarrassing. If it was Jongin, he never would’ve let you live it down.

But instead of wallowing in your shame, you unpause the video on screen—watching Seungcheol’s fancam in front of his daughter without another thought.

Kkuma doesn’t seem all too interested, immediately curling herself into a ball right next to you before promptly dozing off. You don’t get to see it though, since your eyes are glued to the screen. 

Surely the jury won’t condemn you too badly for biting the inside of your cheek whenever Seungcheol sticks his tongue out with a smirk, right? This is an idol who’s spent nearly a decade in the industry—if not more. Of course he’s got the art of fanservice ingrained into his bones. 

But just when you told yourself that this is the last one you’re going to watch before hopping in the shower, you end up viewing a couple more of his fancams first until you make do on that self-imposed promise.

This one’s a clip from their most recent fan meeting, you think. A DON QUIXOTE performance that’s been circulating around social media for the better part of the month. While you’re not that well-versed in their group’s discography, you happen to like this song a lot specifically because of how raspy Seungcheol’s voice is whenever he raps his parts.  

When he decides to unclasp a piece of fabric that’s been getting in the way of choreography, you have to bite back a groan when he practically throws it on the stage with that domineering air he never fails to showcase during their performances.

You press your thighs together, hyper aware of the heat that’s sizzling in between before casting Kkuma a guilty stare. Though she’s just a dog, you still feel a little bad about lusting after her dad while she’s sleeping right next to you. 

You’re not even sure what’s got you so worked up today. This isn’t the first time Seungcheol dropped her off in person so you’re not sure why you’re feeling this horny from a few fancams alone. Shark week must be drawing near.

Either way, you end up quietly easing yourself off the couch so as to not wake the sleeping princess on your sofa—turning the TV off altogether before making a beeline for your bedroom to grab your towel and a change of clothes. 

If there’s a more opportune time to take a shower and wash away the impurities infesting your body, it’s now.

But just as you’re about to head to the bathroom, your phone goes off on the coffee table. You pout a little when Kkuma stirs from the sound of your ringtone—looking around sleepily for the source of the noise.

“Sorry about that,” you coo before settling back beside her, running a hand across her smooth fur. 

When you glance at the caller ID, your heart nearly plummets to your stomach.

“Hey,” Seungcheol’s deep voice flits into your ears when you take the call, sounding all sorts of tired. “We’re just wrapping up our shoot. I should be there in an hour or-so. How’s Kkuma?”

“She was fast asleep before my ringtone woke her up,” you chuckle. 

“Oh. Shit. Sorry, baby.”

You tense up at the term of endearment despite being fully aware that it’s not meant for you in particular. That reminds you to put your phone on loudspeaker so that the intended recipient could hear Seungcheol’s apologetic voice.

“I think Vivi tired her out when we went to the park today,” you tell him fondly. 

“Sounds like she finally met her match,” Seungcheol laughs on the other end and Kkuma perks up at the sound of her owner’s voice. “Can you hear me, princess? I’m coming to get you in a while. Keep being daddy’s good girl for me, yeah? I won’t be too long.”

Fuck.

When Seungcheol says your name and thanks you in that same, tired yet raspy voice, you have to keep yourself from melting into a puddle right then and there.

“Hope the double booking wasn’t too much of a bother,” he murmurs and—god. You get that he probably doesn’t have a lot of energy to spare, but does he have any idea what his voice is doing to your underwear?! 

“Not at all,” you manage to say without your voice cracking. “I told you Sehun picked up Vivi early today. It’s just me and this spoiled princess right now.”

“Spoiled, huh? I guess that’s one way of putting it.” Seungcheol breathes out a laugh. “Anyway, we’re getting settled in the shuttle right now. I’ll text you when I’m at the door.” 

“Gotcha. Come on, Kkuma. Say goodbye to daddy.”

You don’t know why that cursed word slipped out of you so naturally, but Kkuma seems to respond to it in kind—her tail swishing with contained excitement before letting out a soft bark for Seungcheol to hear. Your client (that’s right he’s your client, you stupid, horny—) coos at the other end of the call.

You honestly can’t wait until he arrives to get her so you can have some real, much needed alone time.

To your credit, the shower kind of helped.

Though you just took one of the coldest baths in your life, it managed to alleviate the heat that lingered on your skin once Seungcheol ended the phone call. That’s considered a win in your book.

As you towel your damp hair, you take a peek at Kkuma who’s returned to her little nap on your couch. The sight makes your heart flutter and you would’ve snapped a photo if that doesn’t go against the rules you’ve set for yourself and your humble business. 

Then again, fantasizing about one of your clients definitely goes against whatever principles you’ve been practicing all your life but that’s not the issue here. 

Not wanting to wake her until Seungcheol arrives, you silently pad off to your bedroom, intent on getting some work done before planning what you’ll have for dinner. However, the moment you hang your towel to dry, you end up lying in bed instead of hunching in front of your desk with a laptop full of backlogs waiting for you. 

You don’t even think twice when your hand inches past the garter of your thin sleep shorts.

Typically, you’d use one of your trusty vibrators to get off when you direly needed the release. It made things quick and simple. Plus, you don’t have to suffer through the ordeal of having your fingers pruning up. 

But your brain thought it would be extremely funny if you touched yourself to the thought of your fingers being Seungcheol’s instead of yours—gathering the slick from your aching pussy as he lathers your wetness across your slit.

While you’re…preoccupied in your bedroom, you don’t hear your phone buzzing on the coffee table outside. You’ve deigned to put it on silent mode so Kkuma won’t be rudely awakened by any unexpected ringtones again, but the decision is a bit short-sighted since Seungcheol did tell you he’d text you once he arrives at your door.

Said idol is standing in front of your apartment with a worried look on his face. He texted you about ten minutes ago but received no response, which is a little strange since you almost always reply to his messages right away. 

When you don’t pick up his third call, he starts to pace around nervously. Did you go outside? Were you busy? He’s normally a patient person, but when it comes to Kkuma, he gets jittery within seconds if there really is something to worry about.

Seungcheol tests the knob to your door but when he finds it unlocked, he’s further thrown into a haze of concern. Shit. Were you robbed? Where is Kkuma? 

Where are you?

He kicks off his shoes haphazardly in the entrance, closing the door behind him before twisting the lock as he looks around cautiously. There doesn’t seem to be anything out of place inside your house. The furniture is just as he remembered—not that he spends a lot of his time studying your interior—and finds no signs of ransacking.

Relief practically crashes over him in waves when Kkuma’s head pops up from behind the couch. She hops to the floor and zips straight into his arms, pawing and licking with all the affection she can offer. Seungcheol laughs, petting her to calm down before giving your living room another once-over. 

You’re nowhere to be found. 

Even if Seungcheol can just grab Kkuma and make his leave, he knows he’ll feel bad if he ditches you without a word like that. So after telling his only child to stay put at the doorway, he carefully treads around your apartment and makes his way to (what he assumes is) your room.

The door is slightly ajar and he could make out the figure of someone lying on the bed inside. With the knowledge that you’re safe and sound, Seungcheol’s shoulders relax. 

But just when he’s about to raise a fist to knock—

“Oh, daddy, please—” 

Seungcheol freezes on the spot.

He likes to think he’s a pretty decent person. Never one to think about or blurt anything remotely sexual especially if the situation doesn’t call for it. He also likes to think he has a pretty decent amount of self-control.

But for some reason, when he sees you with one hand buried between your supple thighs as the other paws at your breast through a flimsy night shirt, he can feel himself rapidly crossing that line he’s been so careful to maintain with you all this time.

Seungcheol should leave. While he doesn’t know the specifics of your love life—given that the nature of your friendship is mostly transactional—you probably have at least one person you’re involved enough with to call daddy while you get yourself off. He’s walked in on something he shouldn’t have and he still has time to recollect his thoughts somewhere else while dealing with the steadily growing hardness in his jeans.

But then, he hears you sigh:

“Cheol… Fuck!”

You’re on the very brink of the orgasm you’ve been craving since this morning when your hand is rudely yanked from between your legs. You jolt at the intrusion—fear shooting through your system at the thought of some psycho breaking into your house while you’re so vulnerable. But when your eyes meet Seungcheol’s hard gaze, you’re convinced that you’re dreaming.

“S-Seungcheol?”

To your horror (more like delight) he takes the hand that you’ve just been using to finger yourself to the thought of him—taking your slick digits into his mouth with a pained groan. The sight instantly makes your pussy quiver with need but before that…

“What are you doing here?” you ask weakly, not having the heart to pull your arm away when he looks so fucking hot licking the juices off your fingers. 

When his lips disconnect from your skin with a lascivious pop, he plants a kiss across your knuckles, smirking. “Those are such pretty sounds you’re making. Are they all for me?”

This is not happening. You probably slipped in the shower and hit your head or something. Because Choi Seungcheol—the client you’ve been having inappropriate thoughts about for the entire day—can’t be crouching in front of you right now, giving you the sexiest bedroom eyes you’ve ever seen.

You swallow thickly, trying to salvage what’s left of your pride. “Cheol, I’m sorry, I—”

He shushes you by placing a finger to your lips, the grip he has on your arm tightening with each passing second. You nearly moan when he presses his forehead against yours.

“Daddy, huh?” he asks, completely ignoring your attempt at clearing the air. “You want to call me daddy that bad, baby? So much that you have to get yourself off with Kkuma lying outside?”

Shit. That’s right. Kkuma.

However, in the midst of the moral dilemma that came with wanting Seungcheol to fuck you into the mattress while his adorable daughter was waiting outside your bedroom, you recognize that this is definitely a once in a lifetime chance. 

You’re not about to let it go to waste. 

You aren’t certain who it is that lunged in for the kiss. All you know is that Seungcheol has you pinned beneath his firm body as he licks into your mouth—larged, calloused fingers gripping onto your hips possessively as you moan his name against his lips. 

Your sleep shorts come off in no time. So does your shirt. It only occurs to you’ve been grinding down on the denim of his jeans with nothing but soaked panties on when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth—coaxing out a sound so heavenly, it shoots straight through his cock.

“You’re so pretty like this, sweetheart,” he sighs hoarsely, rolling his hips against your core so that you can feel how hard he is through his pants. “So fucking needy. When you get yourself off, am I the one you always think about?”

You want to say yes but Seungcheol captures your lips into another bruising kiss before you can utter a sound. 

He nudges your thighs apart with his knees, one hand reaching between your legs so he can inspect the mess he’s unknowingly made of your cunt. When he finds you wet and wanting, you feel a growl reverberate deep in his chest.

“Now this won’t do,” he tuts before sliding himself between your thighs, easing himself lower on the mattress so he can hook them across his shoulders. You mewl in anticipation and Seungcheol meets your gaze with a challenging smirk. “Is there something you want?”

“C-Cheol—”

“That’s not my name right now, baby. I thought you knew that.”

How the fuck does this man just slip so naturally into the subspace without making things weird or uncomfortable? If anything, the authority in his voice makes another bout of slick gush outside your entrance—making you pray to every single god out there for Seungcheol not to notice.

“Daddy,” you whine and the title sounds delicious in his ears. “I want you. Wanted you for so long.”

You want to curl in on yourself when you feel Seungcheol’s teeth trailing love bites along your inner thighs. The grip he has on them is weighted with nothing but gentleness but the contrast it has with his rough kisses is making your mind stutter with pleasure. 

“What’d you think about, hm?” he whispers. “Tell me all the filthy things you’ve wanted to do with Daddy.”

You nearly gasp when he flattens his tongue across your clothed core, breathing in the musky scent of your arousal. The overload in his senses makes him want to snap and have his way with you, but Seungcheol tells himself to take it easy. 

He has all the time in the world to make you feel good.

“B-But that’s embarrassing,” you whine, struggling to free yourself from his grip but Seungcheol tears your defenses asunder when he moves your panties to the side and licks a long, languid stripe along your glistening slit. 

The effect it has on you is immediate—you’re writhing against his touch, fingers automatically tangling themselves in his hair as Seungcheol helps himself to your cunt like it’s his first meal of the day. It doesn’t help that he’s so enthusiastic about eating you out. Almost like he’s thought about doing it at least once in his life.

“Daddy, please—” you whimper. “Need you…inside.”

“Not until you spill the dirty details, princess,” he chuckles before letting your panties snap back against your poor, sensitive cunt. You jolt at the contact, tears lining your lashes because of how desperate you are to get filled with something. Anything.

“I-I thought about you fucking me raw,” you start shakily, toes curling every time his nose grazes your clothed pussy. “Calling me pretty names and leaving your marks on my body. T-Then when I’m about to c-come, you tell me to hold it in ‘cause you want to come together. You’d also tell me how much of a good girl I am…”

Hm. An obvious pillow princess that likes being praised. While Seungcheol has a preference for calling his partners dubious names in the bedroom, he can make a few exceptions. 

Especially when you look so fucking wrecked for him when he’s barely touched you.

“I see. What else is cooking in that pretty mind of yours, baby? Daddy wants to know.”

You visibly preen at his words, further confirming his suspicions. Seungcheol has to bite back a groan at the sinister feeling that fills his chest at the knowledge.

He’s going to have so much fun with you.

“You’d— You’d use my pussy to dump your load inside me… Then you’ll just k-keep going even if I’m twitching and sensitive all over, fucking your cum deeper ‘cause you want me to keep it all in for days.” 

The mental image you’re painting inside his head is not doing his sense of control any favors, but Seungcheol remains steadfast. He won’t fuck you stupid when he hasn’t even asked you out on a date yet. He has more tact than that.

“That’s what I like to hear, pretty thing,” he chuckles before moving his head a little so he can remove your ruined underwear. He typically would’ve just torn the fabric in two, but he doesn’t want to scare you off just yet. “Such a good girl for Daddy. And you know what good girls deserve?” 

The innocent look on your face nearly makes him cream himself right then and there. “W-What?” 

With a no-good smile, he says:

“To come until you’re crying.”

Seungcheol easily slips in two thick fingers into your sopping heat, making you cry out in a way that’ll definitely pique Kkuma’s curiosity. He just hopes his baby won’t come nosing in where she isn’t supposed to while he takes care of his other baby the way she deserves. 

“You’re so fucking tight, princess,” he sighs—loving how your gummy walls practically cling to his fingers with each shallow thrust. “Can you even take more than this? I don’t want to break you when you’re being so good for me.”

You voice out your protest against his words with a pathetic mewl, bucking your hips against his fingers with erratic vigor. “N-No… I can take more, Daddy, please please. Want you to fuck me full. I’ll be good, I promise!”

Seungcheol has been producing his own tracks for years, but the sound of you babbling incoherently is music to his ears. As he continues pumping his digits in and out of your needy hole, he puts himself back to work—tongue tracing tight circles around your puffy clit as he forces your thighs apart. 

Your back arches off the bed at the sensation as your fingers desperately claw against the sheets. It’s so unfair how delirious he’s made you when he still has all of his clothes on, but you’re nothing if not his good little girl when you don’t even comment on it—focused entirely on the mounting pleasure he’s freely giving you.

When the pads of his fingers manage to graze that patch of spongy flesh deep inside you, your eyes nearly roll to the back of your skull. Seungcheol is all too privy to your reaction and you feel him smirk into your cunt as he curls his fingers to find that spot again—attaching his lips around your sensitive nub as he overwhelms you with stimulation.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you cry, hands finding their way back to his hair as you desperately tug him closer. “Daddy, f-feels so good! I’m gonna—”

“I never gave you permission, baby,” he growls and you quickly whine when he detaches himself from your pussy. “If you want to come you have to ask Daddy nicely. Unless you feel like being a bad girl all of a sudden?”

You shake your head, hips grinding against the air in a desperate attempt to get his mouth on you again. “N-No, Daddy. I want to be good. Can I please come? Please? Need it, need you.”

His chest tightens at the desperate plea in your voice and for a moment, Seungcheol is honestly kind of scared of getting too used to your desperate whines. Your needy whimpers. 

How on earth is he going to go back to being friends after all this is over?

“Alright, since my princess said she’ll be good for me,” he laughs as your walls clench around his fingers. “You can come when you feel like it, baby. Come all over Daddy’s face.”

You don’t completely expect it when Seungcheol dives back into you, smothering his face in your pussy so greedily that you feel his nose bumping against your clit. He laps at your soaked folds like your arousal is the best thing he’s ever tasted—easing a third finger inside you as you muffle a scream.

“Yes, yes! Right there, Daddy!” you moan, tugging on his hair even harder as you grind your cunt against his face. “So close, so close—fuck!”

When you fall over the edge, Seungcheol doesn’t stop his relentless onslaught on your twitching pussy. Your walls clamp down around his fingers so tightly, he can only imagine how good it would feel to fuck you on his cock while you ride out your orgasm. 

The syllables of his name are all but broken when you frame them around a high-pitched keen. Seungcheol slurps up every drop that trickles onto his face and he only peels himself away from you once you’ve stopped thrashing against his grip.

In the aftermath, the two of you bathe in silence—nothing but your mutual pants filling the room. You’re looking at Seungcheol with stars in your eyes despite what he just put you through and the sight alone makes him more aware of the problem in his pants.

“Daddy, do you want—”

“No,” he says immediately and he feels bad just as fast because of the disappointment that crosses your face. “I mean—fuck. I want to fuck you dumb, princess. I really do. But I also really like you and it’ll be a chip on my conscience forever if I do that without taking you out on a proper date first.”

It takes a moment for his confession to completely occur to you and when it does, the dazed look in your eyes makes way for utter shock. Seungcheol wonders if he should be offended.

“You…like me?”

“Sweetheart, I’m a pretty busy guy. I don’t just let anyone come on my face.” 

You gulp. “For how long?”

Seungcheol shrugs. “A while. Now are you going to let me take you out on that date one of these days or are we going to have to pretend this never happened?”

You scowl at him. It doesn’t help that he still has that tightly fitted turtleneck on—distracting you from the topic at hand for a moment before you clear your throat and give him an answer.

“H-How about we go on that date now?” you suggest somewhat anxiously. “I mean, I was already thinking about where to get dinner after this, and…” 

Taking him by surprise, you lean forward to cup your hands over his ear—a devious smirk curling on your lips.

“Maybe you can fuck me dumb right after.”

Long story short, your first date with the idol you’ve been crushing on is a big hit. Right after getting himself to calm down (A.K.A., taking care of his hard on in the privacy of your bathroom), Seungcheol took you and Kkuma to a food park that’s open until midnight. 

It’s over dinner that you fess up and tell him the origin of your newfound daddy kink. Seungcheol has the gall to laugh in your face at your admission and you swear you’ll never pet sit Kkuma ever again if he keeps teasing you like that.

“Aww, baby,” he coos, pinching your cheek for added effect. “You don’t have to call it pet-sitting anymore. Now that we’ve established how much we actually like each other, don’t you think it’s more fitting to call it…co-parenting?”

Unwittingly, you receive his words with a scowl.

You want to smack him upside the head. Just because he’s a confident little thing on stage doesn’t mean he can just bring that side of him in a real life conversation. But for all your adamant bravado of insisting he’s being full of himself…

You honestly don’t mind.  

⟢ end notes: yay! you got to the end of my delusions!!! that said, thank you to nova @duhnova and indi @playmetheclassics for title help and going through this spur-of-the-moment filth for me!! rip to the original genius title, daddy's good girl(s) bc tumblr wants to censor it so badly LMFAO

i don’t have anything else to say aside from i’m so sorry choi kkuma

this is part of the doting on you! series.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Omg I love your platonic alastor writings!!

Can you do headcanons for alastor x daughter!reader where the reader is now in her teens and gets embarrassed when alastor still treats her like a little girl?

Haha! Alastor being that embarrassing dad who doesn’t want his princess to grow up be like— I definitely can, darling. Consider it done! Kinda short… but done!

Alastor- Old Habits, Never Die

God… Dad, please stop. You’re embarrassing me!

This is all you think. Being the daughter of the Radio Demon is pretty hard. As a little girl, you didn’t have to deal with much but now as a teenager, almost around eighteen, you have begun trying to befriend Sinners(with very little success) and the small amount of friends you manage to make with the much older sinners around you, it ends with them creeped out by your Dad

You want to lash out at Alastor for the way he treats you but you can’t really blame him. He just loves you but then again, you hate how he always babies and coddles you. You’re not seven years old anymore; you’re seventeen, you don’t want people thinking you’re some spoiled brat or a overly daddy’s little princess

You’re already universally feared for having traces of your father’s immense powers and as well as universally disliked by a big handful of sinner demons for being your father’s daughter. So, you’re pretty isolated as a whole and Alastor just makes it worse for you

Alastor isn’t aware that the way he acts is humiliating and degrading towards you. He just wants his babygirl to never grow up and he can’t just watch you go out shopping on your own and see you wear bigger clothing on your bigger body and not cry hysterically at seeing his beloved daughter grow up

Alastor just wants one more day of you as a little five year old again. Where you’d run up to him and cry about your nightmares, and he’d put you on his chest, sit down in a rocking chair and sing you back to sleep. He loved those days, he wants just one more. He misses his babygirl so young and little and childish

Alastor is that type of dad who wants to stay in touch with you and your friends so he tries to do the ‘cool stuff’ you younglings like, in hopes to bond with you further, he can’t bond with you over dolls and dress up. He’ll bond with you through the new things you like

Alastor, of course, won’t stop treating you like a little girl. He’ll talk baby-like, he’ll get you food, he’ll take your belongings to hold himself, he’ll hold your hand, he’ll do your hair up for you. He does everything for you and is so blind in his fatherly love for you, to realise how selfish his actions are and how careless he’s become, as a result of not wanting to lose you as a child

Overtime, this unintentionally harsh treatment begins to strain your relationship with Alastor and you grow less patient with him, establishing boundaries and ordering him to stop inserting himself into your life

He doesn’t take that kindly. Alastor is offended and angry that you’re annoyed with him. He is your father, he has every right to be apart of your life, social or literal and he begins to argue with you

You have to constantly lay down the truth that you’re not a little girl anymore and Alastor refuses to accept it as fact. He wants you to stay young and childish, and he won’t ever admit that he knows your time as a child is up and he doesn’t want to lose that little princess

But don’t worry, Alastor will soften up and try decrease this behaviour and treatment when he realises you’re avoiding him and he tries his best to stop treating you like a little girl… despite, all he sees when he looks at his teenage daughter is the little deer-featured child who ran to him when she was scared…

He’ll try his darnest stop it for his babygirl, even if he doesn’t want to. He just wants you happy more than anything

“Darling… look. Look, I get it. I’ve been acting rather… unfavourably towards you and I apologise, it’s just… hard to have watched you go from so little to so big… it’s… it kinda hurts”

[okiedokrie]

All Is Fair In Love And War (TEASER)

Summary: Joshua is nothing if not determined. If he wants something, he'll get it; not that he even had to try before. But sometimes, like Icarus, he flies a little too close to the sun. But hey, all is fair in love and war!

Characters/Pairing: Aphrodite Incarnation!Joshua x Fem!Detective!Very Mortal!Reader

Genre: smut, fluff, crack, angst if you really squint

AUs/Trope Info: Greek God!AU, Partners In Solving Crimes, Strangers to Lovers, "time isnt linear" trope, "holy shit im kind of obsessed with you" trope

Word Count: 900+ for the teaser, est. 10k≤ for the full fic

Warnings: Depiction of a crime scene (gore, blood, gun, conspiracy), depiction of drug use, character death (major and minor), smut warnings under the cut when full fic is uploaded

Rating: 18+

A/N: This is part of the The 13 Gods of Olympus: A Seventeen collab hosted by @beomcoups and @wooahaeproductions! This is just the teaser, so if you enjoy it, please consider signing up for the taglist. Thank you!!

In the summer of 2000, Joshua Hong was almost five years old. People always commented on how pretty he was for a kid, that he’d surely grow up to be a very handsome man. 

Which is why it was a tragedy when he died from a freak truck accident.

Yes, Joshua Hong died at the age of five. For like, 10 minutes.

The doctors called it a miracle - a small child should not have survived a whole six of the twelve truck wheels, but somehow he was resuscitated, much to his parents’ delight.

This incident caused two things to change dramatically - Californetherlands now has stricter trucking laws and Joshua woke up to memories of literally being Aphrodite.

Throughout the years, from that fateful summer day to the present day, Joshua flopped back and forth between believing that the memories were just fever dreams and genuinely considering that he may be a reincarnation of the goddess. But ever since he got to hone his powers, he’s been more inclined to believe the latter.

By the age of  28, he has mastered the art of seduction. No, not sleeping with people constantly. It was more so the art of getting people to say ‘yes’ to everything he asked of them.

This made Joshua a very powerful and influential figure in Los Amsterdam; You see, the way he dealt wasn’t by out-witting people or being richer than them. He dealt in favors. If you wanted to be a popstar, he’d introduce you to a famous producer, and get you a record deal that would solidify your career - all for the low, low price of free.

In turn,  you’d owe him, like the many powerful people who owed him large favors.

Joshua found himself in downtown LA, in the club that he owned, just under his penthouse. He enjoyed playing the guitar and performing for his patrons, everyone seemingly captivated by his voice, or his beauty, whichever one caught their attention first. He finally strummed the last chord of his song, enjoying the applause of the crowd as the DJ started to play the usual club music. Just as he was about to retreat to the bar, a feminine voice stopped him.

“Joshua! Hey!” She said, hair bouncing over her new fur coat, jumping excitedly, calling him over.

Joshua smiled widely at her - she was one of the people he had helped start her career as a singer. He didn’t do much other than introduce her to the CEO of her current label, it was her natural talent that got her this far.

“Ah, Diana, good to see you!” He said, going over to meet her in a friendly hug, the kind that didn’t touch at all. “How has being a singer treated you? Any good news?” He said, making small talk with an old acquaintance.

“Oh please,” she started, her new haughty attitude showing, “It’s all over the news! I just got nominated for a Grammy!” She said in a sing-song tone. Joshua just nodded Truth be told, he didn’t really have much interest in pop music, but he did try to match her enthusiasm.

“That’s great! I knew you’d make it big.” he said, remembering the first time she came to him, a girl in clothes that almost looked like rags, now decked out in every designer brand you could think of. “So, what brings you back here then? Surely you already have everything you ever wanted?” He said lightheartedly. Even if all of Joshua’s connections owed him favors, it was quite uncommon for them to come back to him after having achieved their dreams.

“Well,” She said, her old, meek bashfulness coming to the surface. “I just wanted to see you again, to thank you for what you have done for me.” She tucked a hair behind her ear. “And I know no matter what favor I do for you in return, I could never break even for just how much you’ve impacted my life. So, thank you, Joshua.”

Joshua genuinely felt relieved to hear her say that - usually, people’s pride and greed got in the way of them acknowledging those who truly helped them along the way, but as he suspected, this girl still had a soul so pure. “Let's get some drinks by the bar and chat some more, yeah? My treat.” He offered, which she gladly took, the conversation between them flowed naturally, Joshua enjoying her tales of success.

It was an hour after the club closed that Diana decided it was time to head home. Joshua offered to see her off, like the gentleman he was, and so they walked to the sidewalk, her hand around his arm.

Joshua opened the taxi door for her, offering her a few bills in cash to cover the fare, “It was nice seeing you again, hopefully, you’ll make time to catch up with me in the future.” he said through the taxi window.

“Yeah, I hope I get the chance to see you again soon. Goodnight Joshua.” She said as she rolled up the taxi window.

Joshua watched the taxi drive until the end of the block, everything seemingly going smoothly, up until another car intercepted hers in the intersection.

It happened so quickly, too quickly for  Joshua to even register the new car’s window sliding down, holding a gun out to the taxi Diana was in. Gunshots echoed through the street, the sound of tires popping and glass shattering but all Joshua could make out was the sound of two sets of four tires screeching against the concrete. Diana’s taxi collided with a nearby lamppost, the taxi flattening and curling around it.

That was the last time Joshua saw her alive.

Sign up for the taglist here!

[star-struck-withantlers]

"I'm just saying, if I was you I would not care so much. Your literally rich!" Barty argued, looking around the table trying to get someone else to agree with him.

Regulus rolled his eyes. "Your rich too. And, you know how my parents are about grades."

"I only try hard to prove my dad wrong and you know-"

"REGGIE!!!" A small voice - a child's voice? - cut of barty and before Regulus could even register what was happening, a small child was climbing onto the bench beside him.

"Reggie!" The kid jumped onto regulus lap and hugged him. Regulus looked down into the familiar eyes.

"James!?" James. His James. James Potter. But...five. he was five years old. No. That's not right. His James, his Jamie, he was seventeen. This James was small and he had chubby legs and his checks were rounds and he was 12 years younger than he should be.

"Regulus what the fuck?" Evan looked between his friend, the toddler and the rest of the Slytherin table, who were all looking at the pair.

"I...I umm" Regulus picked up his boyfriend... oh no that's weird. And ran out of the hall, through the corridors and to the slytherin common room. He muttered the password and slipped inside, ignoring the weird looks he got from the few people who weren't at lunch in the common room and went straight upstairs.

"It's scawy in 'ere." James mumbled when Regulus sat him down on the bed, looking around the room.

Regulus stopped pacing and crouched down infront of the boy, giving him a gentle smile. "I know, baby but I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you, I promise." And that seemed to calm him a bit.

Regulus climbed onto the bed and crossed his legs, James climbed and sat between them, giggling when regulus played with his curls.

"Jamie? What happened?" Regulus asked, James turned round in his lap so he was looking up at him with those big brown eyes.

"Potion went boom!" He exclaimed, giggling and throwing his arms in the air, almost hotting regulus and he couldn't help but laugh.

Just then, the dorm door flew open and Barty, Evan, Pandora and Dorcas all stepped in, stopping at the door and watching the interaction.

"So it's true then? Potters a toddler." Dorcas laughed. She hadn't been at lunch she's been 'studying'. She walked over and sat on the bed, ruffling James curls which made him stick his tongue out at her. "He's still at the same maturity level then."

James eyebrows furrowed. "What that mean?"

They laughed.

"Hopefully it won't last long." Pandora commented, resting her head on regulus shoulder.

"How the fuck did that happen?"

"Potion went boom apparently." Regulus shrugged.

[britney-rosberg06]

how literally HOW do you explain all this to your investors torger? How do you fumble so much and explain this??

Like?? How do you go to your meeting like:

Toto: Hey so we lost Lewis

investor 1: Like, the seven time champion Lewis?

Toto: Ya that one

Toto: But don’t worry! I’m laying on the charm to get Max!

Investor 1: Great! How you doing that?

Toto: Harassing him through media statements and ignoring my other drivers

Investor 2: Oh! well keep us updated on that, Im pretty sure he’s not leaving if Newey is there tho

Toto: Glad you mentioned that! He’s leaving redbull

Investor 3: FANTASTIC! So we got Newey?

Toto: Wellll…..no Ferrari got him too, probably

Investor 2: So…we’re fucked?

Toto: Not exactly! Look what i found!

(younger photo to be more convincing, i mean who can say no to that sweet little smile-toto’s thinking, probably)

Toto: See! We can win with him! Even if he’s not legally able to use the car for another six months…

Investor 1: Toto… that’s a child!

Toto: There’s literally no one else, no one. It’s the seventeen year old or it’s George by himself, we have no other options.

Investors: Is your wife available?

Toto: She doesn’t drive anymore-

Investors: No, for a management position

[brucewaynehater101]

never mind Bruce being Tim's bio donor and just ignoring Jack altogether

other more interesting options

Janet messing with dig sites, has a fling with an ancient, dying mesopotamian god who has just enough vitality to give Janet a child, a child who is as durable and determined as their godly parent who has hung onto existence by their fingernails for the last millennia

Janet mixing with some magic items while she's doing her semi legal archaeological thing and Janet meets a lovely martial artist while still under the influence of the magic, Lady Shiva as Tim's other bio donor

Janet on a dig meets an older man with mesmerizing green eyes who introduces himself as Ra's Al Ghul and they have a brief fling, Ra's actual target was some artifact that Janet had, the fling was a why not?

Gotham, Gotham is literally Tim's parent and the reason why Tim didn't die a thousand times over while baby Tim was running around the rooftops with a camera

Lesbian Janet Drake is one of my favorite hcs. Obv, it's not canon, but I love the idea that she only married Jack for his money/prestige/status and, if the universe aligned differently, would have married a woman (I've seen some ideas where she is the one to get with Dana, lol).

Tim is a stubborn kid. I adore the idea that either Gotham or an ancient god gave birth to Tim. There is a cool fic of Gotham adopting Jason and him gaining powers because of this.

The best part about Lady Shiva would be Cass and Tim being half siblings. The twins AU of Cass with either Jason or Tim has my heart.

Ra's being Tim's parent is all kinds of weird. Like, poor Damian would have to refer to Tim as his uncle or something and grapple with the reality that Tim would have more of a claim to being the heir than Damian would. I also find it funny that Ra's would reveal this at the most inconvenient time for Tim just to make his life difficult. I imagine Ra's just sitting on the fact Tim's his kid for seventeen years before greeting Tim as son during the BruceQuest or something.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Can we hear about the day Lazard snapped from the firsts shenanigans?

The Day Lazard Finally Snapped

• It all starts when Angeal and Sephiroth are passing through the Skyview Hall when they spot Reeve with a baby in a holder strapped to his chest.

Angeal: Hey Reeve! I didn't know you had a child.

Reeve: I don't. This is my assistant's baby. I allow her to bring him in on occasion since childcare is hard to find. She asked me to watch him while she's in a meeting, but⏤

Sephiroth: What kind of mother abandons her child?

Reeve: ⏤but I have to meet with the editor of Architecture Weekly in ten minutes.

Sephiroth: What kind of mother abandons her child with a strange man who works for Shinra?

Angeal: I'm sorry to hear that, director.

Reeve: Wait, could you two watch him? It'll only be for an hour.

Angeal: I don't think⏤

*Reeve hands the child to Angeal, who is now sweating bullets*

Reeve: Great, thanks! By the way, I'm supposed to be locating some materia that went missing from the inventory this morning. Do you mind finding them for me? Here's the list.

*Reeve hands Angeal the list, Angeal hands the baby to Sephiroth, who holds it like a bomb with his arms outstretched*

Angeal: Reeve, I really don't think we⏤

Reeve: Great! See 'ya!

• Reeve literally sprints away. Angeal looks back at Sephiroth, who has now strapped the baby to the carrier on his chest. Angeal looks down at the list.

Angeal: Three Ifrit summons, sixteen fire materia, nine ice materia, thirty chocobo lures, four petrify materia, and seventeen lightning materia.

Sephiroth: The baby is crying because it wants its mother. I feel a strange kinship with this child.

Angeal: Why would someone need thirty chocobo lures??

Sephiroth: There, there. Don't cry because your mother abandoned you, rejoice because your father isn't Professor Hojo.

*Angeal grows exasperated and turns to Sephiroth*

Angeal: Seph, it's hungry. We need to feed it.

Sephiroth: Where will we find someone with functioning mammary glands on such short notice?

Angeal: FORMULA. GET THE FORMULA IN THE BABY BAG.

*The baby cries more, Sephiroth holds it closer to him*

Sephiroth: You're upsetting our child.

Angeal: IT'S NOT OUR⏤*Angeal takes a deep breath*⏤It's not our child, give it the baby formula, and let's go. We still need to find the culprit behind the stolen materia.

Sephiroth: Do you mind if we stop by Professor Hojo's lab first? I want to show him what competent fathership looks like.

Angeal: No. And you're acting insane. Here, give me the baby.

Sephiroth: I have only had this child for three minutes, but if anyone tries to hurt it or take it away I will kill everyone here.

Angeal: When this is all over, I'm signing you up for art therapy and getting you a cat.

• Lazard is away on a business trip and has left Genesis in charge. He's supposed to be getting work done, but instead he's sitting in Lazard's office with his feet up, reading a romance novel.

Genesis: I don't understand why Lazard complains all the time. This is the easiest position in this company.

•There's a violent crash right outside the office, followed by Zack's voice going "Wow! I didn't know the ceiling was that easy to break."

*Genesis gets up at the speed of light. He runs out and sees Zack and Cloud with tennis rackets*

Genesis: What are you doing? I thought I sent you far away on a mission to Cosmo Canyon.

Zack: We got back early! And since Angeal's busy there's no point in training. Plus, my mission report can wait until Lazard's back.

Genesis: And what's Strife doing here? Last I recall this is the SOLDIER floor, not the Infantrymen Who Look Like Baby Chocobos floor.

Cloud: Could've fooled me. I saw you and thought this was the Sephiroth Is Better Than Me So I Take It Out On Bad Poetry floor.

Genesis: Listen here⏤

*Zack jumps between them*

Zack: We were just playing some tennis! Where's the harm in that?

Genesis:

Genesis: Zack where's the ceiling

*They look up and six ceiling panels are missing*

Zack: We're playing pro tennis.

Genesis: Goddess.

Cloud: But we lost all of our balls and now we can't play anymore.

Genesis: Hm. Have you tried substituting them with something else?

Cloud: Like what?

Genesis: Materia are round and large enough to work.

Zack: Good idea, but we don't have any to spare.

Genesis: I have some.

*Genesis pulls a key out of his pocket, walks across the hall, and unlocks a supply closet where he pulls out a crate full of materia*

Zack: Woah! How many do you have in there?

Genesis: Three Ifrit summons, sixteen fire materia, nine ice materia, thirty chocobo lures, four petrify materia, and seventeen lightning materia.

Cloud: Why does the box say Property Of Shinra Electric Power Company? Wait, did you steal this??

Genesis: There is no such thing as stealing if your victim stole it from the planet.

Zack: Why thirty chocobo lures??

Genesis: Do not presume to question my actions.

• Sephiroth and Angeal have no leads on the missing materia, so they decide to go ask the turks for any information they have. They walk into a conference room where Tseng and Rufus are talking.

Tseng: WHY do you have a baby??

Sephiroth: Two men cannot raise a child without being criticized.

Angeal: We're babysitting.

Rufus: How may we help you?

Angeal: A crate of materia went missing from the inventory. Reeve asked us to locate it. Any chance you have an idea where it went?

Rufus: We were just going over the security footage, actually. A stunning, beautiful woman was seen entering and leaving with the stolen materia.

Tseng: Come take a look.

*They walk over and watch the security footage*

Sephiroth:

Angeal:

Angeal: That's GENESIS.

Tseng: Impossible. I had no idea Rhapsodos was a master of disguise.

Sephiroth: He's not even in disguise. He wore that dress to a Loveless performance yesterday. *said while he rocks the baby to sleep*

Rufus: Sephiroth, would you mind accompanying me to meet my father? I'd like to show him what adequate fathership looks like.

Sephiroth: Gladly.

Angeal: *exasperated* We'll get the materia back from Genesis, don't worry. There's no need to get involved, and we'll make him promise not to do it again.

Tseng: Actually, the issue is much more annoying. You see, the crate he stole contained faulty materia. We're not sure they even work, but if they do there might be some...explosive consequences.

Angeal: Don't worry, knowing Genesis, he's hording the materia somewhere until the search dies down and hasn't actually used it yet.

*The baby hasn't fallen asleep and is wide awake*

Sephiroth: Of course, how could I be so foolish? The baby needs to be tired out through playtime and proper enrichment first.

*Rufus takes a box of ammunition from his coat pocket and uses it as a rattle. The baby laughs*

Tseng: Sir, I don't think that's an appropriate toy for a baby.

Sephiroth: Nonsense. I had that toy when I was younger and I turned out fine.

Angeal: No the fuck you did not.

• Zack and Cloud's tennis match with materia is going smoothly. Genesis has made himself the umpire and is officiating the match. They're in Lazard's office so no one catches them slacking off.

*Cloud hurles a fire materia toward Zack at top speed. Zack shrieks and ducks*

Genesis: Five love.

Zack: No fair! He's just aiming it right at me!

Cloud: Because you're my opponent. That's how tennis works.

*Cloud sends another chocobo lure Zack's way that hits him right in the face*

Genesis: Six love.

Zack: WE GET IT, YOU'RE OBSESSED WITH LOVELESS. SHUT UP.

Genesis: ......

Cloud: I really need to get back and start getting ready for patrol tonight.

Zack: Nooo, come on! Just one more try! I'll beat you, you just watch.

• Cloud sighs and readies himself. Zack grabs a lightning materia and serves. Cloud hits the materia when it reaches him. Except this time it fuses with the tennis racket and starts hissing and billowing smoke. Cloud panics and lets the tennis racket drop. It starts glowing and vibrating.

• All of the littered materia on the office floor start emitting the same low whistle and vibrating, all at once.

• Genesis senses the incoming explosion. He grabs Zack and Cloud and dives under the desk.

• Lazard comes back from his business trip early. He's in the elevator thinking about the decision to leave Genesis in charge. He had initially meant to bequeath Sephiroth the responsibility, but felt for Genesis. They're always placing him second next to Sephiroth, constantly berating and expecting the worst from him.

• He thinks it's unfair. Genesis is one of the most competent SOLDIERs in the program. He's hardworking, responsible and authoritive. There's no doubt in Lazard's mind that everything is running smoothly in his absence.

*Lazard opens his office door*

• The three Ifrit summons went off and are raging, smashing the walls and ceilin. The fire materia also went off and now everything is on fire. It's shooting fire balls and one of them burned the office door clean off, shattering the glass. The ice materia has caused a raging blizzard inside the office and everything that isn't on fire is freezing over. The lightning materia is causing firework-like explosions to go off.

• Lazard stands there for a good five minutes, petrified (literally) (the petrify materia hit him)

• Once the last blast of lightning goes off and things seem to have quieted down, Genesis, Zack and Cloud poke their heads up from under the desk.

Zack: Hey, director! We didn't expect you back so early!

Cloud: How was the business trip? Have fun?

Genesis: My, my, director, that suit makes you look dashing. Have you done something to your hair?

• It's a poor choice of words because half of Lazard's hair is on fire.

*Angeal runs in*

Angeal: Genesis, you crook. Did you use Lazard's access card to steal all that materia?? Do you know how mad he's going to be when he finds out? He's already in trouble with upper management because he left you in charge.

*Zack points to Lazard in the corner, Angeal turns around*

Angeal: Oh. Oh no.

• And then the chocobo lures go off. Thirty grown chocobos come speeding into the office, two of them knocking Lazard to the ground.

• And then, as if things couldn't possibly get any worse, Sephiroth runs in with the baby.

Sephiroth: Angeal, how dare you abandon me and our child??

Angeal: Oh my god.

• The Firsts and Zack are sitting in the briefing room when Tseng walks in.

Tseng: Good morning. As you all know, Lazard has taken a medical leave. I'll be taking his place while he's away.

Genesis: How is he? I tried to visit him in the hospital yesterday, but apparently the mere mention of my name sent him into another cardiac arrest.

Tseng: He's sedated and fine. Don't feel discouraged. Two Seconds went in to visit him this morning, but all it took was one look at a SOLDIER uniform and he started screaming.

Angeal: If he quits, it's on Zack, Gen and Strife. Sephiroth and I were busy hunting materia and babysitting.

Sephiroth: No. You were looking for the materia. I was taking adequate care of the baby and giving it the attention its mother denied it.

Tseng:

Tseng: Sephiroth

Tseng: Sephiroth why do you still have the baby?

*They look over and sure enough, Sephiroth has the baby in a carrier strapped to his chest*

Sephiroth:

Sephiroth: I'm the most competent adult in its life.

[tinykittendelusion]

Seventeen as different tropes

a/n : I've gotten into a book slump again so i thought might as well try something that's going to make me want to read more :)

triggers: mentions of sex or sexual content or indicates sexual behaviour

Scoups

Workplace romance especially billionaire ceo romance where he falls in love with this girl from a small town almost like a typical hallmark movie. he gives very CEO vibes especially like business proposal kang tae moo he loves showering you with love and lots and lots of gifts.

Jeonghan

Opposites attract. I think it would be so cool if jeonghan falls for someone his exact opposite who looks like a troublemaker but is actually very innocent. It would be hilarious when at first she gets blamed for a prank he pulled making him apologise with lots and lots of kisses. Also she'd be the only person with whom he won't cheat while playing games?!

Joshua

good boy x bad girl. This is the reverse of the bad boy trope and that suits him so much Joshua is a very good gentlemanly guy until he isn't and then he's this crazy person and he'd naturally be drawn to people who take risks.

Jun

childhood friends to lovers. Honestly after watching exclusive fairytale I feel this is exactly his vibe he's a shy guy so he takes time getting comfortable and since you've known him since childhood he's the most comfortable with you. The comfort of knowing someone through all their stages of life and falling for them.

Hoshi

Enemies to lovers. Hoshi is a sweetheart that everyone knows but he's amazing at teasing people aka seungkwan in gose episodes so him having an enemies to lovers relationship makes so much sense to me. Also hoshi getting angry/pissed would be HOT.

Wonwoo

Aloof couple. Everyone except the both of you know that you both are dating. Together you both are dumb and dumber. After Hoshi accidentally ends up spilling the fact that wonwoo has a crush on you You guys would finally start dating. Both of you would be so shocked to know that the other person actually liked them too.

Woozi

Fated soulmates. Now listen to me woozi is a homebody just like me and sometimes I wish the love of my life would just come to my house and announce his existence. This is exactly what happens when you go to deliver fried chicken completely drenched in the rain and he offers you to stay and dry off before leaving.

Dokyeom

brothers bestfriend. He's your brother's friend so he should be off limits to you but he's so kind so nice and so caring you can't help but fall in love. He doesn't notice you until one day you drunk confess and then suddenly you're all that he can think about.

a/n: very much like the male lead in hidden love (c-drama)

Mingyu

reverse grumpy x sunshine. Oh he falls for the slightly broody introverted nerd. They literally collided into each other when Wonwoo dragged him to this one book convention. He was jealous of how close Wonwoo and you were. Which led to him confessing and you both dating. He absolutely adores the fact that your cute silly side is reserved only for him.

Minghao

hopeless romantic x skeptic Minghao was that person who did not believe in love at first sight cause how do you fall in love without knowing anyone that is until you walked into his life and caused him to fall literally for you. You loved this fact as you were a big romantic person. You'd often watch rom coms together and have discussions on the characters for hours.

Seungkwan

Academic rivals. YES YES YES

the banter would be off the charts. He'd be full on sassy boo who loves winning and y/n would be the same. They'd fight argue and insult each other but would be forced into spending time together and boom he's pinned you to the wall.

Vernon

Second chance. Yes the angst the pain the hurt the NOSTALGIA. everything vernon runs into you in seoul one day and it's decided that he wants you back bonus points if you have a child that he babysits and that child comes to adore him.

a/n: i think I have to cry vernon with kids would be so funny and cute and I WILL CRY

Dino

a/n: i absolutely adore these I lowkey might make all of these into longer fics.

best friends turned enemies turned lovers. the chemistry would be fire you'd both participate in a dance competition as kids but at the last moment you ditched him to dance with your crush years later you both hate each other and it gets worse when you are one of the background dancers in seventeen's world tour.

i made a longer version for dino- here

[livwritesstuff]

Here’s hoping you’re not sick of me yet ❤️

What would Steve and Eddie do for the “of course!” trend?

will never be sick of you <3

also this is so funny to me bc i was literally in the process of drafting this exact trend when you sent this lol

I feel like Hazel would pitch the trend to Steve and Eddie on a random Saturday when they were all home, and she wouldn’t get any further than, “So basically you just walk down the street–”, before they’re like “Yeah, absolutely not.”

In their eyes, they are old, it’s cold outside, and the weekends are for sitting on the couch and fighting their way through the New York Times crossword. There isn’t a single TikTok trend worth giving that up.

(Eddie might have been game for it, but only if Steve was too because they are a united front when it comes to putting themselves on the internet at the whim of their seventeen-year-old child)

But Hazel likes the trend and she’s determined to do it in some capacity so she tracks down Moe and drags her outside to film this:

Hazel, walking down the sidewalk: We have two dads, of course we’ve seen Rocky Horror a million times.

*video cuts to show they switched so Moe is now in front of the camera*

Moe: We have two dads, of course people ask who our real dad is.

*camera cuts to Hazel again*

Hazel: We have two dads, of course we don’t do anything on Mother’s Day.

Moe, behind the camera: I don’t think I even know when that is.

*camera cuts back to Moe*

Moe: We have two dads, of course they’re literally terrified of us when we’re PMS-ing

*cut back to Hazel*

Hazel: We have two dads, of course people ask us if we’re gay too

*cut to camera pointed at the sidewalk*

Moe, whispering: But we are gay too.

Hazel: Yeah, well they shouldn’t ask.

[stomach-bugg09]

hi omg i love your oldest sister fics!!!! Maybe another where she is one of the most feared warriors in the clan ? and when they leave rhe forest she meets someone (romantic) at the new clan ? the sully family is probably not accustom to seeing her be romantic and in love.;)

summary: [y/n] sully is in love, and everyone is scared.

a/n: I LOVE THIS IDEA. LIKE SO VERY MUCH. thank you so much anon for this beautiful experience, it was so fun to write. i actually am really proud of this, given it's pretty long ( 4.6k words, oml !! ) and i put a good ( insane ) amount of effort in. i also kept using this as a way to take a break from studying, so thanks for keeping me from burning out anon! feedback, reblogs, and reqs are always appreciated !!

tags: @pinkhotdogsfr @eywas-heir @historygeekqueen

warnings: literally none, maybe some language, a bit of angst at first ( just sad — i made myself very unhappy ), emotionally hurt + comfort, a sickening amount of fluff, really long, [y/n] x oc but this oc is actually such a sweetie pie i love him, [y/n] being the cutest little patootie of all time

change is scary

every omaticayan knew of [y/n] sully. they knew she was a fierce warrior, a strong warrior. they knew she took after her mother, the archery gene running strong through her veins right next to her urge to protect.

they all knew that, being the oldest child of their olo’eyktan, she was expected to fill the position of the tsahik one day in the far future, and her training reflected just that. not only was she deeply connected with eywa thanks to the teachings of both her mother and grandmother, but she was intelligent when it came to war. she sat in at every single war meeting with her father, silently taking note of everything that was exchanged.

after seventeen long years of listening and learning, [y/n] was considered one of the strongest warriors in their clan. she was well respected, more respected than even some of the elder warriors.

part of her soul felt pride. pride in herself, in her abilities. but, another part of her soul felt empty. almost like she’d missed a third of her childhood because she’d been busy shaking the hands of generals from other clans.

but now… now all of that, all of that time wasted as she straightened her shoulders and stood tall in front of clan leaders, time wasted as she stared at raid maps, time wasted as she trained with the most skilled warriors of the omaticaya… it was all going down the drain.

“we must leave. it is unsafe here.”

she fought tears, told herself she was far too mature for them. she swallowed screams, told herself she needed to set an example for her siblings. the only time she broke was the night before they left, leaving her on her knees before the tree of souls, begging eywa, “why? why must you do this to me? just when i was this close?”

[y/n] was not sad. no, she was angry. but she had nobody to be angry at. it wasn’t like her parents were wrong for wanting to keep her family safe.

maybe if i’d killed that avatar when i had the chance, she cursed herself, remembering when her arrow’d been pointed directly at the heart of quaritch, only being interrupted by the other avatar that shot at her. thanks to the will of eywa, he was a terrible shot and she came out unscathed.

she held a stoic look upon her face during the ceremony in which her father passed along the title of olo’eyktan to tarsem. it wasn’t that she had anything against tarsem and his mate—in fact, she thought they were considerably good choices. but that was supposed to be her. that was supposed to be her ceremony.

by the time they had to leave, [y/n] had nothing left, no energy left to try and hold it down. so, instead she remained silent, because if she decided to say a farewell to even one person… she knew herself well enough to not trust the floodgates.

as they flew, her butt growing sorer and sorer by the second, she remained distant. the air was calming, the breeze allowing her a moment to breath.

she was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn’t notice her family exchange glances, all silently deciding to leave [y/n] to work through it herself. they knew her, and they knew she would not let them help. i’m fine, she would say, and she would keep saying it until they finally gave up.

it was only when they reached their new home in the metkayina clan that she began to show herself again, but even that was the tiniest peek.

as ronal circled the group of foreigners, her hands trailing over them as to check out what features they offered, [y/n] immediately felt on alert. her ears perked, eyes narrowing at the tsahik, a growl growing at the back of her throat.

when she held up lo’ak’s hand for the entire clan to see, as if shaming him for his lineage—a lineage that he was born into without a choice, [y/n] stepped forward, teeth bared. immediately, neteyam pulled her backwards, just as jake did with neytiri.

her action pulled ronal’s attention, their eyes locking. the tsahik circled her, watching as [y/n]’s tail swished, lip curled in disgust.

ronal did not miss as her eyes flared for even a split second as she stopped in front of the girl, grabbing [y/n]’s face with one hand. the air immediately got tenser, tonowari and jake sharing very similar expressions of concern, the latter grabbing his mate before she could make any dumb decisions.

[y/n]’s tail fell to a pause, her air stuck in her chest as she stared directly into the metkayina woman’s eyes.

“if you are seeking refuge, i suggest that you don’t threaten anyone.”

[y/n] bared her teeth at that, fangs making a show just for her. “if you are seeking to make enemies with the toruk makto, then why don’t you just say that?”

now, in this moment, most members of the metkayina clan were justifiably upset. speaking to their tsahik like that? well, of course they would be angry. but, in the crowd of metkayina stood one boy, his eyes unable to leave that girl. that girl who was full of anger, of spite, of bitterness for the world. she was captivating.

as the rest of the crowd gasped at the seventeen year old’s words, he couldn’t help but laugh, immediately covering his mouth as his friends sent him a look and an elbow in the ribs.

the only other person to smile at her words was, shockingly, ronal. the tsahik felt the smallest grin rise to her lips, taking her hand off of the girl’s face and taking a step back. as soon as she was back with tonowari, it was like the look of amusement had never been there.

once she’d stepped back, silence seemed to settle in the air. it was heavy, weighing on [y/n]’s shoulders just as much as the look her father sent her. behave, remember? he seemed to be telling her.

her mother’s look of pride made her feel a bit better, though.

as a way to regain the attention of the crowd, tonowari cleared his throat. “toruk makto is a great war leader. all na’vi people know his story.” he then locked eyes with jake. “but we metkayina are not at war.” [y/n]’s eyes followed tuk, watching as the small girl walked over to her father, allowing for the father to pick her up and hold her in his arms. “we cannot let you bring your war here.”

jake nodded in agreement. “i’m done with war, okay. i just.. want to keep my family safe.” at that, they seemed to pull closer together, neytiri grabbing the hands of her two eldest daughters.

“uturu has been asked,” the mother added, her eyes meeting those of tonowari.

the silence was deadly. [y/n] could feel pins of anxiety, her breath getting shallower. and what if they send us away? where else would we go? just keep trying and trying to find someone to take us?

after what seemed like forever, tonowari turned away from them and towards the people. “toruk makto and his family will stay with us.” immediately, relief flooded her body, her head dropping in appreciation. “treat them as your brothers and sisters. they do not know the sea, so they will be like babies taking their first breath.” at that, [y/n] felt her mother cringe beside her. and, as a wonderful way to finish their introduction to the metkayina people, he added, “teach them our ways so they not suffer the shame of being useless.”

she felt neteyam’s grab her tail at that, tugging it to keep her from saying anything stupid.

“okay,” jake sighed, relieved. he turned to his family. “what do we say?”

“thank you,” they all mumbled except for tuk whose tone was very genuine.

[y/n], however, remained silent. at a sharp look from her father, she swallowed. “thank you,” she added, exhaling a deep breath.

beside tonowari stood two kids, a boy and a girl. “my son ao’nung and my daughter tsireya will show your children what do,” he informed the family. [y/n] stifled a chuckle as the boy, ao’nung, tried to argue his way out of it. “it has been decided,” tonowari shut him down.

tsireya, however, looked more than happy to do it, and based on the way her baby brother was staring at the metkayina girl, lo’ak didn’t seem to mind either. “come, i will show you our village.”

if there was one thing that shocked [y/n] during her time in awa’atluI, it was that she horridly terrible. terrible at everything. from riding an ilu to being a quick swimmer. it was awful. and maybe the whole brink of the problem was the fact that she could barely hold her breath for a time, making it nearly impossible to learn to do anything else.

it’d been a few weeks of relearning the ways of life, and it felt as if she was making absolutely no progress. the simple things, such as food and even dancing, came easy to her. but learning to make food and dance was not going to make her a successful warrior, and even tonowari knew they needed to train her to fight with them based on the stories that her father told of her. ( he also recognized her the moment that ronal faced her off—how could tonowari forget the face of one of most mature eight year olds that he’d ever met way back in the day when he visited the omaticaya for a war meeting. )

but, for the love of eywa, [y/n] was useless. completely and utterly! and the fact of it made her sick to her stomach.

ao’nung was her first teacher, and he was a complete imbecile. tsireya was patient with her, but her optimism made me feel even guiltier by the day. eventually, one day out of the blue, the two children of ronal and tonowari brought forth a male.

this male was around [y/n]’s age. he was tall, muscular, and based on his tattoos, he was an announced warrior of the metkayina. tsireya introduced him as fali.

it turned out, based on further conversation between [y/n] and tsireya, that fali had grown up with the two kids. he was the son of respected warrior, a warrior that was considered ronal’s best friend. in a way, fali was like their big brother.

at that, [y/n] thought that… maybe they could be friends. maybe they had more in common!

she was wrong, and after a days of knowing him, she came to the conclusion that their older sibling roles happened to be the only thing in common.

while [y/n] was smart, responsible, respectful… fali was stupid, annoying, and careless. it was driving [y/n] up the wall! if he was the “older sibling,” why did he egg ao’nung on? if he was the “older sibling,” why did he dare the younger boys to go beyond the reef? if he was the “older sibling,” why was he so… reckless?

so, to say that [y/n] was exhausted with both him and the entirety of trying to rewire her brain, well… that would be a major understatement.

but, alas, she was still expected to learn. unfortunately for her, she took the role as the older sibling quite seriously, and she tried to set a good example out of herself!

now she treaded water in the middle of the reef, the sun beaming down on her face and shoulders. in front of her floated fali, the boy drifting stomach up with his hands rested behind his head.

[y/n] did not look amused, as unfortunate as fali found it. he was letting the sun practically burn his face off, and she wouldn’t even smile!

after an excruciating amount of time, fali let out a yelp of surprise when he felt her hand grab his tail, yanking him downwards. when he resurfaced, she had the faintest shadow of a grin. she nearly drowns me and she still can’t smile fully. what is wrong with her?

while [y/n] thought fali to be reckless and far too carefree, fali found her to be way too uptight. i mean, sure, old habits die hard after being raised as the future tsahik, but couldn’t she let loose once in a while?

“can we please start?” the girl asked, tone exasperated.

he rolled his eyes, a smile playing at his lips. “well, i apologize. i didn’t realize you were so eager to learn. i mean, you usually just complain.”

[y/n] sighed, sending him a look of annoyance. he does not shut up, does he? but, he wasn’t wrong… however, she didn’t let him know that her heart dropped once he decided to actually start teaching her for the day.

it was an unusually long lesson, but it was filled with the same issues as every other day. fali telling her what to do, [y/n] being unable to do it, [y/n] getting mad at herself, fali trying to help her fix it, [y/n] telling him that she’s fine, fali stepping back and watching her battle herself… it was always a pleasant time.

this time, however, things just seemed to be a little more on edge. she seemed to be a little more annoyed. at him, at herself. she was a balloon ready to burst, and fali was bracing himself for the moment that she did.

it was after the sixth time in which she failed to breath correctly that he knew it was going down. he watched her face flush, eyes narrowing as she continued to try and fix it.

“no, [y/n],” he offered, voice soft. she always made him feel guilty, guilty of ever getting annoyed. he knew that she was trying her best. “just… breathe from here. pretend as if there’s a flame within your belly, offering your lungs support and warmth.”

“i’m trying!” she snapped, eyes brimming with tears before she quickly turned away, eyes avoiding his eyes.

the two faded to silence, simply sitting on a rock in the middle of the reef, staring at the setting sun ahead of them. the horizon was gorgeous, a beautiful orange contrasting the blue of the sea.

they sat there, in silence, until just before eclipse.

as they neared curfew, [y/n] inhaled deeply, preparing herself to get up and leave. but, a gentle hand on her knee stopped her. she turned to fali.

“do you know what i think?” he began, voice gentle. “i think that you are more than capable to do this.”

[y/n] scoffed. “if that were true, i would be out there, not stuck with… with you!”

at that, he huffed a laugh, running his fangs over his bottom lip. “i’m going to ignore that comment and continue getting to my point,” he jokes, his eyes widening at the smallest flicker of a smile on her lips. “i believe that something, whether you realize it or not, is keeping you from being successful—my guess being that it’s subconscious—but i digress. i believe that you are scared, [y/n]. scared of doing it right, scared of becoming one of the metkayina because once you are one of our people, you feel like you are betraying your home.”

the girl beside him shook her head in disbelief. “you believe? or you know? because you sure said that—that soliloquy—as if you know me.” [y/n] stood up, taking a few steps backwards. “i have known you for seven days, fali. seven days! and suddenly you decide that you can analyze me?”

fali laughed at that. “seven days is enough for you to decide that you hate me!” he pointed out, a disbelieving smile playing on his lips.

“well, you wear everything on the outside. every bit of stupidity, recklessness, carelessness.” she grit her teeth. “you are an open book, and i am closed. that is the truth.”

“i wear what i want to wear,” fali argued, standing up to face her, the two getting closer by the second. they got closer by the insult thrown. “you think i am dumb, but i am not. i am smart enough to make it so that people like you—people who do not care to look past their own bubble—cannot see my vulnerabilities.”

[y/n] bared her teeth. “you think me ignorant? blind, even? i have seen more of the world than you, i have fought dream-walkers, watched as my baby siblings had death looming above their heads. you are clueless to what is beyond awa’atlu.” a growl built in the back of her throat, their faces extremely close together. “i build my—my ‘bubble,’ as you called it—because i know what is beyond your dimwitted understanding!”

the two were silent, the tension electric between them. behind them the sun was set beyond the horizon, eclipse having already passed. waves lapped at the rock, the incoming high tide making it so their feet were splashed with the salty water.

as they stared at each other, a sense of understanding seemed to bless both of them. fali’s eyes never left those of [y/n]... her ( beautiful ) narrowed eyes. and [y/n] didn’t miss the way that the moons reflected on fali’s aquamarine skin, his bioluminescent freckles splattering the sides of his face.

[y/n] could have sworn she felt herself lean in, towards him, until the familiar call of her mother brought her back to reality.

“[y/n]?” neytiri called from their marui.

the girl swallowed, stepping back quickly. she cleared her throat before yelling back, “coming!” and with one last look at fali, she dove into the waters.

the next few days were odd, to put it simply. suddenly, there was no aggravation towards each other, but it was much more tense in an… awkward way.

a part of [y/n] was filled with spite, and by the time they got to working again, she was doing better than she had been for weeks. she was actually making progress! and it was all to shove it in fali’s face.

unfortunately for her, fali was much more hesitant when it came to helping her. he refused to touch her stomach as to help her breathing, his movements stiff and scared, resembling that of a baby hexapede.

but, [y/n] didn’t need him…? the others found it extremely peculiar. one day, she’s out past curfew, and right after she suddenly fixed nearly all her mistakes. very odd indeed…

it did not take long for her first free dive. her breathing improved astoundingly, her swimming technique also getting better from watching tsireya when she showed kiri and tuk around the reef.

“do you see this shell?” fali held it up, the sunlight reflecting off of its shiny exterior.

she rolled her eyes. “yes, i see the shell.”

“that’s good.” he blinked, eyes shifting away from her’s with a sheepish grin. “uh, anyway,” he continued, clearing his throat. “i assume you understand the drill? i drop it, you find it.”

“yes, fali,” she sighed. “i am fully aware of how this works. now, i would rather get it done with soon so i don’t have to live in anxiety anymore.” [y/n] locked eyes with fali. “please just drop the shell.”

and he did. she swallowed as she watched it float down, the depths looking much more abyssal-like than they normally did.

“remember,” fali’s soft tone grabbed her attention, “there is nothing to fear. you are stronger than you know, and if you begin to doubt yourself… think of you returning with the shell and rubbing it in my face.” at that, [y/n]’s face flushed, embarrassed. he smiled at her expression. “yes, i know that’s the only reason you’ve suddenly been trying, but… if it works, it works.”

and for once, she smiled. actually smiled. and fali felt himself burst with pride. somehow, it felt better that it wasn’t one of his stupid jokes, or his silly slip-ups. no, he made her smile just by talking to her. by being fali.

stunned, fali only remembered that he was supposed to be helpful when she stared at him expectantly with those bright [e/c] eyes of her’s. he lifted his hands, miming lungs filling with air as he reminded, “deep breath. this is all yours. nothing to fear, only to look forward to.”

with that, the girl dove in.

underneath the surface, she felt at peace. for the first time ever, [y/n] wasn’t freaking out while submerged in the salty water. instead, her jaw seemed to gape in awe at the scenery around her.

the deeper she went, the more starstruck that she was. there were layers to this reef that she hadn’t even been aware of. layers that she’d only heard from tales of her siblings, not truly understanding how magical they actually were.

as she kicked her feet towards the ocean floor, she heard fali’s voice in her head. “the way of water has no beginning and end.” she caught sight of the shell. “the sea is around you and in you. the sea is your home, before your birth and after your death.” she stifled a cry of joy as a school of fish swam around her, tickling her sides with their soft touches. “our hearts beat in the womb of the world. our breath burns in the shadows of the deep.” she was nearly there, her hand outstretched to grab the small artifact. “the sea gives and the sea takes.” she got it! oh, eywa, she got it! it was in her hand! oh, how proud fali will be! “water connects all things.” she began to swim up, a smile stuck on her face. “life to death,” she resurfaced, “darkness to light.”

“fali!” she cried, spinning around in a circle to catch the eyes of the boy. “fali, look!” she held it up, her expression beaming with pride.

and fali couldn’t help it either, his own smile taking over his features. “[y/n]!” he exclaimed, jumping off of the rock and swimming to her. “you did it! oh, eywa, you actually did it!” he stared at the shell as they tread water. “oh, how proud i am!”

her silence caused him to turn, staring her in the eyes. “[y/n]?”

she swallowed, her eyes locked on the shell in her hands. “fali,” she began, voice quiet. “i have a wallowing fear that you were right.”

at those words, fali gaped silently. instead of answering right away, he began to tug her towards the rock, allowing for them to get out of the water so her could properly comfort her.

once she was settled on the rock, she carefully placed the shell down, pulling her knees close to her chest. she felt like a child again, helpless against her emotions. “i was scared. not of the ocean, not of swimming, not of drowning.” she looked up, locking eyes with fali. “i was scared of abandoning my people.”

a tear dropped from her eye, and fali immediately had her hands resting on [y/n]’s biceps. “hey,” he called softly, forcing her to look him in the eyes again. “you are not abandoning them. you are… learning. you are learning how to adapt, how to survive. in fact, i think that is more in touch with your culture and ancestors! you are just like them, trying to adapt and survive in a world that is trying to kill you.” she smiled a little at that. maybe he wasn’t so stupid. “you are not weak for fearing change… you are normal. it is okay to be normal every once in a while, as much as you enjoy being the big sister that is oh-so mature and oh-so strong.” his finger lifted her chin up, a soft smile on his lips. “because people who love you do not mind how mature, or strong, or stupid, or careless, or responsible, or up-tight you are. because you, [y/n], are what you are.”

once he was finished, he noticed that [y/n]’s tears were dried, a smile on her face. a look in her eyes had him floored… oh, she was so beautiful, wasn’t she?

luckily for fali, she seemed to think the same of him, raising her arm, grabbing the back of his head, and bringing his smiling lips against her’s.

the sully family knew and loved [y/n]. of course they did! she was their’s, afterall. but, they also knew that she was never this easy-going or even this happy.

both jake and neytiri knew they’d seared little moments of trauma into the brain of their eldest daughter, and they hated knowing that, but parenting is never easy. especially when she was expected to become the tsahik way back when.

but, ever since a few weeks ago, ever since she finally overcame her own issues regarding leaving the omaticaya, ever since she finally found someone that she loved as much as she loved her family ( and he seemed to love her even more ), she was a new person. a better person. a person who actually seemed to enjoy life.

neteyam and lo’ak were the first to become skeptical. ever since her successful free-dive, she’d been so.. giddy. it was not their big sister.

kiri started to catch on when she noticed [y/n] disappearing four hours at a time, and when she came back, she was ten times happier.

neytiri and jake were so wrapped up in the fact that their eldest was finally living a happy life, they didn’t once question, “hm, why could that be?”

it was only when [y/n] returned home a little late one night after the rest of the family, minus tuk since she was still quite young, had a busy day full of duties. she blamed it on finishing an errand with her new best friend, fali, but neytiri scanned her daughter’s body for any sign of injury. neytiri was just that type of mama bear!

“[y/n],” she began, eyes narrowed at her neck. “did you get bitten today? are the bugs bad on that side of the island?”

[y/n]’s face flushed almost immediately. she swallowed, grabbing her hair to cover her neck. “yeah—” she attempted, before tuk interrupted. [y/n] immediately cursed herself, remembering the stupid excuse that fali and her’d made up to cover-up their “hang-out” when tuk had walked in unexpectedly.

“uh, no, mom,” the youngest said matter-of-factly. “she was playing shark with fali. obviously.”

immediately, the sully family burst into confusion.

“[y/n]!” neytiri scolded, although her eldest daughter didn’t miss the amused smile that played on her lips.

kiri burst into laughter. “that’s why you’ve been so happy? because a guy? who even are you?” she teased.

lo’ak was absolutely losing his mind, face flushed from the laughter he was overcome by at the reality of it all. his big sister, little-miss-uptight, getting her first kiss before him and neteyam? unbelievable!

neteyam was absolutely shocked, face frozen in disbelief. “you? fali?”

jake, of course, was on immediate protective dad mode. “fali? the son of vi’ieo and fpai?” he questioned, eyes squinted at [y/n].

all [y/n] could do was sit there, a hand covering her mouth. of all people, tuk had to expose her. it’s always the ones you least expect.

but, despite the surprise of it all, the sully family was extremely happy. [y/n], the one who entered the metkayina by trying to one-up the tsahik and also deal with her own absolute soul-crushing homesickness, was making a life here in awa’atlu. and they couldn’t be more proud.

someone was suckered into a part ii

[amysgiantbees]

Mizora is TERRIBLE!

She prayed on a seventeen year old, a child.

She isolated him from his family and community.

She manipulated him into taking a bad deal because she knew he'd be too stressed at suddenly having the fate of his city (and maybe the world) on his shoulders to argue over his contract.

Never allows him to keep a copy of said contract which he couldn't possibly memorize. It seems like every time she shows up she pulls another clause out of her arse so this thing sounds long and complicated. Plus, legal documents are famously complicated and dry and would not be easy to remember.

She further isolates him by not allowing him to explain himself and their relationship to others but popping up whenever she wants. So he HAS to be the kindest most goody toe shoes person possible otherwise people will just reject him or worst when she shows up. Like it's great for Wyll that he's incredible at deception but is not a deceptive person otherwise you mightn't trust him when she shows up but there's truly no question that he's not a good person.

She replaced his eye with a sending stone. He literally can't escape her. That would make me feel so paranoid, incapable of feeling truly alone. It's so violating. She replaced part of his body with something of hers. He literally has a part of his abuser imbedded into him. It kind of reminds me of Astarion's scars.

She treats him like a slave. He is her slave essentially. He has to work for her with no real way out. And she hammers home his powerlessness by comparing him to an animal and her pet.

She tries to seduce his friends, driving a wedge between them and making him more isolated.

She owns his soul. He will be her property for all eternity in the Hells in whichever form she chooses, probably a lemur and definitely still a slave. He probably felt a little relived to be illithud because if he turned he wouldn't have a soul she could take.

She tricks him into saving her, the person he most wants dead.

Ransoms Wyll's only family for his soul.

She WILL NOT LEAVE your camp. Can you imagine if Cazador or Shar just hung around Astarion or Shadowheart's tents for WEEKS. It would be insane. They would be traumatized. But Wyll doesn't even get to react to it because of his lack of content due to the rewrites!

The cherry on the cake. The thing that got me thinking about all this in the first place. I'm playing an evil route atm. So I killed Karlach hoping to turn Wyll to a darker path like they promised in this article https://gamerant.com/baldurs-gate-3-wyll-early-access-story-change-karlach-explained/. But Larian would rather fix a million tiny issues than their black main character's story. But the point is Wyll killed Karlach and Mizora comes to reward him for a job well done. And she rewards him with THIS:

The infernal robe. A rare piece of CLOTHING not ARMOUR CLOTHING. Default Wyll can wear light armour so this isn't that useful for him but do you know who works really well if she wears clothing instead of armour? Karlach. Mizora rewards Wyll for killing Karlach with something useless for him but would of been great for her.

[nevernonline]

Hello, I was wondering if I could make a request for Seventeen 🥺🥺, how would he react to seeing you breastfeed your baby in front of him?🫣

hiii nonnie!! of course <3 I'm sorry this took a second keke. I was nervous to make it feel right, thank you sm for the rec!!

I just did coups-hoshi for now so it's not too long if you want some more lmk &lt;3

SVT's reactions to you seeing you breastfeeding and taking care of your child in front of them:

choi seungcheol:

he would melt immediately!! ik this man would be the biggest softie seeing his two loves enjoying themselves.

I can picture him catching his s/o off guard while they're casually resting as he comes home excited to see the two of them 😭

would come over to them without even saying hello verbally just giving a small kiss on each of their heads to join them sitting adjacent and watching with his little smile.

obvi the queen kkuma would come to enjoy being with her now larger family. (she is the light of MY life)

kkuma and baby cheol matching hair clips, when tbh?? (why can I write all day abt dad cheol idk??)

yoon jeonghan:

would be amazed he met someone who actually wanted to raise his child. not because he didn't think anyone would, just because he knows it has to be hard staying home while he works.

he would tend HAND AND FOOT while they take care of the baby, they worked hard so he would be working his ass off making them both so so happy.

constantly found giggling and buying the baby the cutest little gifts and playing with their sylvanian families families together.

seeing his s/o breastfeeding would def not be a surprise to him!! he'd be so happy that they just feel comfortable sharing the entire experience with him.

hong jisoo:

im so sorry shua as a dad would make me melt fr??

i can't even imagine the matching daddy x baby fits.

he'd sing softly to the baby while his s/o breastfeeds

Joshua def would make their s/o a killer ass playlist for while they feed just so the baby can have a chill time during feeding and so!! his s/o constantly thinks about them while they're doing so if he's not present.

hover dad <3 but in the best way!! knows he's busy so any little chance he can have to spend with his family he takes.

would be so excited about their child's first trip on a plane, probably to visit la and introduce them to the "LA Vibes"

100% best dad and husband a person could want.

wen junhui:

absolutely has read so many parenting books to understand how much goes into the process so he is always informed and not asking you too many questions if you're stressed.

when he saw you breastfeeding for the first time, he'd definitely be intrigued not in a seggsy way just in a genuine curiosity type of way.

he'd be really clingy asking you if you need his help for anything, pumping, diaper changing, etc.

above and beyond dad type like his s/o wouldn't even know what hit him.

him trying to teach your newborn his name >>>

playing you and your baby sweet piano medley's while plastering his cute smile all over the room.

def would enjoy sharing baby food

NEVER leaving your side, but in a helpful way, he'd def drop everything to be by your side like the best partner ever???

kwon soonyoung:

he's the mom 100%

I can picture him just literally going mush over the fact he has a child?? like??

would be tactile as hell to you while you breastfed, just crawling in the chair behind you to wrap his arms around you and his child, he has to be a part of it ALL.

showing everyone photos and videos 24/7 of the family he created. like he's so PROUD!!

compares his and his s/o's baby photos to see who their child looks like more and even if it isn't him, finds the smallest comparison to his features and gives them a nickname from birth based on that.

maybe a clumsy father at times but in the most endearing way.

makes choreography to cool baby songs and shows them off while his s/o feeds their baby for entertainment.

sings really soft and sweet love songs over a baby monitor.

[maneatrrz]

‧₊˚✩ 01 ; girls like girls / k. sully

♡ 𓂃 ꒰ girls like girls! ꒱˚.༄ ೃ kiri sully x fem!reader. 901 words. one of two. ⌒(≧▽​° )

𓆩♡𓆪 synopsis: kiri sully was certain she wouldn’t ever exist to you-at least, not in the way that she wanted to.

content: na'vi!reader, metkayina!reader, emo teenage angst!kiri, reluctant babysitter!kiri, kiri turning into shakespeare. tuk being the sweet little demon baby she was meant to be. she is my child and i love her so dearly. i don't know, this is pretty short for the first part? but i wanted to get this out for the additional notes and i was just having writer's block with it. sorry!

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ additional notes: i have posted this in the midst of aging drama-the actor who portrays kiri, sigourney weaver, is not a minor. and according to john landau, james cameron's literal production partner, the na'vi have a longer lifespan than humans: 160-180 years, as oppose to the average 80, and they are older than the "equivalent-looking human". as in: na'vi years and human years are not the same. the na'vi reach their adulthood in the time that is equal to 15-17 human years. after that, their aging stagnates. which means if lo'ak and kiri have been alive for fourteen human years, and neteyam has been for fifteen-lo'ak and kiri are the human equivalent of seventeen, and neteyam is eighteen. idk what to tell you girlies. these are 8-foot tall, motion-rigged blue space aliens. enough. i turned eighteen like two months ago and watching you guys made my head hurt. let's put this energy towards real-life child predators, and women & men pushing thirty simping for blatanly established human minor characters! anyways, hope you enjoy this first part of the fic. thank you lovelies.

୨✩୧ ; fic under the cut!

there was no reason for kiri sully to feel such ardor towards you. absolutely none. yet, she couldn’t help but be entranced by the way you moved through the waves.

you were just gliding through cerulean waters with lo’ak, neteyam, tsireya, ao’nung, and roxto. jake had introduced you all to the human custom of ‘marco polo’ when you were young, and it seemed you had never grown out of it. kiri had been thrown out of the game, looking over tuk’tirey for her father while she made a sandcastle. tuk was especially displeased with this, as she thought she could beat you all flawlessly in marco polo. but alas, she was not allowed to wade out that far.

watching your every move from afar, kiri surmised that you were not very good at this game. every single person who was marco before had gotten you immediately, no matter how far away you started. probably because you would start splashing and kicking every time they got close, through a fit of feverish giggles. especially when lo’ak was marco-he’d ignore everyone else just to get to you. then, it became the coquettish game of ‘how fast can [name] swim to escape impending doom?’

“this sucks,” she caviled and clutched a stick limply, etching your name in the warm, manila sand.

“you would feel better if you built a sandcastle,” tuk hummed with an expectant lilt, looking at kiri.

“i would feel better if i was lo’ak.”

“would you really? he kinda smells.”

“true,” kiri tilted her head with a nod, scribbling out your name. “[name] doesn’t seem to care, though.”

“oh, blegh,” tuk’tirey stuck her tongue out, swatting at kiri. “stop that.”

“jeez, jeez-” kiri raised her hands in defense of tuk’s minacious and staunch (endearing and incredibly light) pummels. “tuk, i’m not even doing anything!”

“you’re doing that thing that daddy does when mommy looks at tonowari for more than like, two seconds. you’re being all,” tuk did a sashay back to her sandcastle before turning around and putting her hands on her hips, “j-e-l-u-s. jealous.”

“hello? it’s j-e-a-l-o-u-s. you literally cannot spell.”

“i’m literally seven and i’m trying my best.”

“fair enough. but i’m not jealo-” she was cut off by tuk ‘kikiki’-ing at her with an outstretched finger. “you know what? fine. maybe i am a little bit jealous. but it’s not like it matters, anyways.”

kiri threw her head back, falling into the sand. she stared up at the calm azure heavens adorned with ivory, velvet clouds. the image paired perfectly with what kiri called the polyphonic melody of unrequited love: her pining heartbeat reverberating through her spine, your distant, cherubic laughter, and the sound of the waves skimming across the shore, before melting back slowly into the sea. as far as kiri was aware, you only knew her as one of two of neteyam’s (your neighbor) siblings your age. not the goofy, obnoxious younger brother with unkempt braids and winsome dimples, but the brooding basketcase of a sister. the looming, deviant character who thought she could feel the heartbeat of the empyrean, the atlantis, and the motherlands. she was certain that to you, she faded miserably in comparison to the awkwardly-charming foreigner and prodigal eldest son that newly inhabited awa’atlu. she could tell from the way you hung on every honey-coated word that was uttered from neteyam’s lips-big, sparkly doe eyes complete with dilated pupils completely enraptured by him. kiri could tell from the way those roseate, glacé lips of yours curved into an intoxicating smile that she simply couldn’t get enough of, everytime lo’ak unleashed his ‘comedic brilliance’. she was certain she wouldn’t ever exist to you-at least, not in the way that she wanted to. “yeah, this seriously sucks.”

“why don’t you just ask if she likes you?” a query from tuk that made kiri jolt up, turning her head to tuk’tirey in bewilderment.

“absolutely flabbergasting. that you just told me, to do that.”

“why? whenever i have a question, i ask it.”

“but this is different, tuk,” kiri exhaled deeply, bringing her knees to her chest. she ran her hands through her hair, before scratching the top of her head. “she’s a girl, and i’m not a boy.”

“so? i don’t see a problem,” tuk contorted her face in confusion, before shrugging and kicking her meticulously crafted sand fortress-she was getting bored. she sat down crisscrossed in front of kiri, tapping her nose. “girls like girls, like boys do. nothing new.”

 tuk’s idea was not entirely inane as kiri’s riposte made it out to be. it was getting harder to mask her tempestuous affinity for you, with each passing moment. you merely being around her made her heart beat at such a frenetic pace in her sternum. your scent permeated her senses, suffusing her cheeks a feverish and tender sanguine-you smelled as saccharine as the candied simpers you gave her, with light floral notes and a hint of ocean’s brine. and your visage-oh, your countenance as a whole-remained steadfast as the most ravishingly beauteous thing she had ever seen. you were like a painting to her: every curve and every color was painted by eywa’s pedantic hand.

“so if i were to…” kiri closed her eyes with a sharp, delayed sigh, shaking her head. “...confess, when would i? or-how would i?”

tuk’s mouth curved into a smile laced with playful, youthful malign.

kiri was going to have her hands full, wasn’t she?

all writing works are my own, do not repost or repost on platforms such as archive of our own (ao3), wattpad, fanfiction.net, and the like. — maneatrrz © 2023.

[kirain]

Saw your comment on a post about Sound of Freedom and I came here to say.....shame on you. Shame. On. You. Since when is child trafficking a political issue? Since when is calling pedophilia bad a political issue? If you have a problem with this movie then maybe YOU'RE the problem. No better than the big Disney fat cats who tried to suppress this movie and keep it shelved. Or theaters messing with the ac and saying seats are sold out when they're empty. Shame on you! God's children are not for sale!

I wish people would do a little more research on this topic. If Hollywood and the "powers that be" didn't want this movie being seen, it wouldn't have been released in over 3000 theatres countrywide. It's being shown in major and minor locations all across America and Canada, and the vast majority of those locations aren't having any problems.

Case and point, my own mother and her friend went to see it last week and everything was fine. No issues whatsoever and the seats were packed. The movie isn't being "suppressed". This is all a marketing gimmick from the production company Angel Studios, a Christian streaming service. The movie is jam-packed with lies and only serves to glorify Tim Ballard, the man the movie is based on, and Christianity as a whole. I truly wish this wasn't political, but it is. They made it political.

Tim Ballard has provably exaggerated or fabricated many, if not most of his "rescues", and his organisation, Operation Underground Railroad, has been widely criticised by professional anti-sex trafficking organizations (including other Christian-based ones) for years. He has accumulated millions of dollars for his so-called "non-profit" organisation, and he runs several for profit organisations on the side. Most of this money is presumably pocketed by Ballard and his cohorts, as millions is unaccounted for and only a sliver goes to OUR. It's not about "saving children", it's about money and spreading Ballard's religious ideology.

This is compounded by the fact that Ballard, before he left the CIA, was almost always the last officer to arrive on any scene where child sex trafficking was involved, yet he somehow has hundreds of stories where he's singlehandedly rescued children. In fact, the "true story" the film is based on, where Ballard apparently saved a five year old boy—who, by Ballard's own account, ran up to him, hugged him, and begged to be taken away—didn't even happen. According to court receipts from the arrest and trial of Earl Venton Buchanan (the pedophile in possession of the little boy), Ballard arrived at the scene long after the boy was rescued and taken into custody, and he was barely involved. The documents can easily be found online under the San Diego incident reports.

Ballard was also caught lying about saving one particular girl named Liliana, the literal poster child for OUR. As it turns out, Liliana rescued herself by escaping her captors when she was seventeen and being trafficked in New York. Even more egregious, every time Ballard told her story, he would lower her age to garner more sympathy ... as if her being seventeen wasn't sad enough. In one instance, he claimed she was 14. In another, he claimed she was 11. Ballard also exploited Liliana's story as a reason for needing stricter border patrols and a better wall, despite the fact that she was being abused in America. There is no evidence to suggest OUR had anything to do with her rescue.

Ballard and his "organisation" have even ruined entire legitimate rescue operations in other countries and put children at risk, like in the Dominican Republic, where he endangered the lives of 26 girls by playing vigilante, being followed around by a camera crew, and causing a shootout that effectively traumatised the children he used as a prop to lure in buyers. His response to the mishap and rightful criticism by the Dominican police was basically, "Well ... you win some, you lose some."

The children were released without receiving any therapy or rehabilitative care, and Anne Gallagher, the leading global expert on the international law on human trafficking, said that OUR has an "alarming lack of understanding about how sophisticated criminal trafficking networks must be approached and dismantled" and went on to call the work of OUR "arrogant, unethical, and illegal". Those children easily could've been shot and killed. This occurred in 2014, but Ballard still insists that his "rescues" be filmed, and he even pitched it as a reality TV show. His reasoning for this, he says, is to "spread awareness", but we all know it's because he loves the spotlight.

Entire law enforcement agencies have actually cut ties with or even condemned OUR, such as Washington State Law Enforcement, as a result of Ballard's proclivity to conflate child sex trafficking with consensual adult sex work. Ballard and OUR regularly set up sting operations and lambasted the men who showed up for kink play, publicly branding them as pedophiles, even though the men in question were under the impression that they were meeting for sex with consenting, adult women. This led to several lawsuits against OUR, all of which they rightfully lost.

Ballard's means of gathering intelligence is also questionable, as he, by his own admission, sometimes consults psychic mediums for information on missing children and asks where they're being held captive. I genuinely wish I was joking about that.

The main actor in Sound of Freedom, Jim Caviezel, also has ties to the Qanon movement, and Caviezel himself is a hardcore conspiracy theorist. He believes that Donald Trump is "the new Moses" and that "liberals [literally] drink the blood of children". This is ironic, considering Caviezel and Ballard both met Trump several times, yet never pressed him for information regarding Epstein's client list. Moreover, Caviezel and Ballard both donate to the Catholic Church, which funds the largest child sex trafficking ring on the southern border and has a history of rampant sexual abuse of children. Even more insane, Caviezel admitted to watching child porn, to apparently "get in character" for the movie. He claimed that if Ballard had to watch it, it only "made sense" that he'd have to watch it, too. To "motivate" him to fight child trafficking.

...Alright, bud.

Surprise, surprise, both men are also outspokenly anti-LGBTQ+, despite the fact that children/teens in that community are statistically more likely to be trafficked. The majority of child trafficking is not the result of random kidnappings, as the movie would have you believe. The majority of children are actually recruited into sexual exploitation by a family member or friend/boss. The majority of those children are also not generally passed around in Mexico, like this racist, white savior-oriented movie would have you believe, but they actually either stay in or end up in America. America is, in fact, the largest consumer of child porn and child sex slaves this side of the globe (and nearly the largest producer), yet the movie depicts almost every pedophile as Mexican or some other non-white race.

At the end of the movie, Ballard comes on screen and asks people to donate/buy tickets for others, so that the movie can spread awareness. This is why so many seats in certain theatres are empty, despite websites saying the seats are sold out. Whether or not Angel Studios is also shadow purchasing tickets to boost sales can't be proven, obviously, but I wouldn't put it past them. These "conspiracies" have all served to market the movie and boost ticket sales.

As for Disney trying to keep the movie shelved, that's also a lie. Yes, Disney did technically shelve the movie when they bought Fox, since it didn't exactly correspond with its family-friendly brand, but they had no problem with the movie being released under a different studio. The actual reason Sound of Freedom was in "production hell" for five years was because Tim Ballard kept trying to milk donations. Despite the fact that filming wrapped up in 2018, he kept asking for more and more and more. He used people's faith and understandably emotional response to something as wicked as pedophilia to rake in millions. That's what Ballard is really about, money and stardom. In the movie, there's even a post-credit message where Jim Caviezel says the movie was held back to "maximize its distribution and raise awareness about child sex trafficking".

Translation: Ballard greedy.

Ballard himself admitted the accuracy of this movie "isn't important", and that he just wanted to get the movie out to "spread the word". By that, he of course means the Christian word—but why should fighting child sex trafficking be tied to religion? At the end of the day, Sound of Freedom is a vanity project, and it spreads incredibly dangerous misinformation. Stranger still, Ballard left the OUR just prior to the debut of Sound of Freedom, a fact he's neglected to mention in every interview regarding the movie. It's not clear why he left, but it seems that he fled after an internal investigation into the organisation began. That's not too suspicious or anything. My guess is authorities are trying to find out were all that missing money went, and Ballard doesn't want to be there when they figure it out.

By the way, that final line you hit me with; "God's children are not for sale", the line from the movie that Ballard claims a fellow agent whispered to him while on a case, as well as the title of the movie, which another agent supposedly said to Ballard after a giant rescue operation—those were lies, too. No agents ever said that to him. The police reports for those cases, as well as the agents Ballard supposedly quoted, all said he was the last to arrive on the scene and those conversations never happened.

Ballard cannot be trusted and Sound of Freedom is based on a lie. It's a scam. Everything he does is a scam. All he cares about is spreading his ideology, making money, and looking like a superhero. And this is only the tip of the iceberg. Look into his other companies, and into the ex-military soldiers and police officers who left OUR because of how poorly trained their people are when it comes to rescue operations.

Every sane person knows pedophilia and human trafficking is wrong, but giving your money to Qanon-adjacent, right-wing leaning, LGBTQ+-hating, Catholic Church-sympathising, fame-chasing, money-hungry, perpetual liar Tim Ballard isn't going to help.

The best way to help out is learning about the signs of child trafficking. Keep an eye out for any children that might be getting abused. If you suspect something, report it, don't be a silent bystander. Volunteer within your community to make sure the children in your area have food and resources, support LGBTQ+ youth, and watch the other adults around you to ensure they're not acting inappropriately. You can also donate to social programs that create safe spaces for children and even apply for jobs that specialise in these fields. Don't go to see a movie just because it aligns with your religious beliefs, feel sad for a little while, then sit on your ass and let Tim Ballard handle everything.