#they so clearly love each other and it is practically canon
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Heya, in the spirit of the holidays coming up I wanted to ask about gifts from/for Chase and First! Maybe like what would be the very first gift to each other would be and their reactions? Or maybe the type of âgiftsâ they give and how often?
Idk why but Iâve had the thought of First giving something handmade and Chase going absolutely đ feral for one reason or another hahaha
Happy Holidays!
Happy upcoming Holidays to you too!!! <3 I know you probably didn't intend to do it, but you sent this ask on the eve of My Immortal Soul's first ever post's anniversary, and honestly it just made me so happy because it was a perfect ask to recieve!
Also! Ironically enough I have a fic in WIPs where there is a (one of the firsts) gift exchanged between them, so I actually already have quite a few headcanons about this! ;3
Out of two of them Chase would be the one sorta main giftgiver, so to say (for obvious reasons, lol, that rich asshole)! Not only as a tactic to make First drop his guard around him initially, but also because of his own need to... show off? Flex? Sorta? The types of his gifts would be generic at first, and something that could be considered more of a courtesy items and not necessarily gifts (like for example, sharing a bottle of expensive alcohol together, but clearly intended for First). But over time, they would gain an undertone of 'providing' and comforts that Chase can offer to First (as his potential 'Master' at first and later on as potential 'lover'). Like maybe food and clothes, maybe weapons! And as their relationship develops, the gifts also become more personal, like for example, Chase might use magic to add personal details or protection in things he gives to First. Overall, it would be less likely that Chase gives some trinkets without any use to First - as a practical proud person, he would make sure to make his gifts both useful and use them as opportunity to show off. (Not to mention the whole underlining 'let me take care of you/become mine to take care of' vibe of the whole thing, hehehe AND a whole slew of possible hidden meanings behind any gift).
And First... well he is too independant and proud to accept the gifts most of the time. So more often than not, Chase uses underhanded methods to gift them (which also kind of backfires sometimes lol).
Also, for some reason I think that the most common gift Chase would end up giving would be food (which is important to Chase). Not only its something First would not reject as vehemently (because wasting food for First would be criminal!!! he was taught better than that after his life on the road), but it also would satisfy Chase's need to provide and show off how well he can care for First if he joined him. And they can also spend time together, eating and drinking - bonding! (And also I just see Chase feeding First who sometimes doesnt fucking eat, that goddamn workaholic lol).
And I absolutely agree with you about First most likely gifting something handmade and Chase going feral about it (ladskjdsajk LOVE the imagery you put into my head)! Not only because First has less opportunity to acquire something 'bought' so to say and expensive, but also because I headcanon First as an incredibly crafty person. Mainly because of his weapon arsenal and Ninjanomicon!
Maintaining and upkeeping the weapons of the suit mainly falls to Ninja, we saw it in the smoke bombs episode and the one about the sword (and not to mention that they canonically do not magically return to the suit). And yes, while the sword came from the blacksmith, who is to say that originally ninja himself was not responsible for first swords? I absolutely headcanon, that the original arsenal was created by the Norisu Clan themselves, which meant some, if not all of the siblings had the ability to work with metal/materials for weapons. And the Ninjanomicon! If we ignore the canon time paradox (which i absolutely fucking do lol) - the art of book binding would be an incredible skill to have, which would require the ability to work with many things, from wood and paper to leather and twine! And aside all of that, living on the road and establishing a whole ass village would require a lot of different rudimentary skills, that I absolutely can see First possess. So, not only First can probably create something from wood or metal, he can bind a journal or a book and make other trinkets and useful things that one can use! He can probably even sew - keeping clotes in working conditions on the road is a very important thing after all!
The crutch comes of course in the question if First even would create something for Chase! xD
I can kinda see him making something to gift back Chase, after the immortal gave him a gift first. Perhaps not wanting to be 'indebted' to Chase, First would make something of equal value (to the best of his ability and his much more limited resources). He would also try to make them useful and more or less practical, but not as super grand as Chase's (its not his style).
But I can also see, closer to the end of their aquintances (when both of them are deep in the feelings lol), First making something less useful and more of a sentimental value to gift to Chase before they went their separate ways.
Also I have to be honest, aside from gifts, the more precious present each could give the other would be their time and attention. Chase might be immortal and have all the time in the world, but he rarely wastes time on something not important to him. And First Ninja is the opposite - sometimes he doesn't have enough hours in the day for everything he needs to do, so his time is too precious to waste. If he sets aside a moment of time for Chase, for whatever reason, it really would speak volumes.
Aaaaaaa this was such a great ask to get, thank you so much anon!!! <3<3<3 it really makes me excited to work on the next fic! UwU
#que?#ninja showdown#my immortal soul#ok ngl when you said chase going feral over first's handmade gift i just keep imagining chase in dragon form slobbering over some wooden#carving made by first??? like an excited puppy lol adsk;adslkdsa;fk im so sorry#but ye i can totally see Chase cherishing a gift First made. I can imagine him putting it away carefully somewhere in his personal quarters#making sure it would be kept pristine for centuries...#and also imagine First. despite unwillingly accepting gifts from Chase still taking care to keep them too because it would be just pointles#and not to mention wasteful to get rid of them! i mean if its not harmful then~ *winkwink*
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sometimes canon doesn't mean professing love out loud. sometimes it's saying you don't want to live in a world without the other person and hating the thing that took them away. sometimes it's holding the other person's hand as you die, saying her name and saying she was worth dying for
#i'm not gonna be over this for MONTHS#cassandra and jenkins are canon#i'm sorry but jenkins turned from three other people that he also loves to say HER name#and to say that her cucumber sandwiches from their tea together a.ka#HER#SHE was worth becoming mortal and dying for#like we know cassandra loves him#and even though he turned her down#like literally ten minutes later he straight up says he loves her and yeah you can say he meant platonically#but throughout all of season 4 they're hanging out all the time and actually have a date at one point.#they so clearly love each other and it is practically canon#anyway cassandra x jenkins forever#the librarians#cassandra cillian#jenkins#lindy booth#john larroquette
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outstanding leadership, extraordinary initiative, & steadfast devotion to duty
Daniel&Jack&Peggy, and medals earned in wartime.
"You ever notice that Thompson doesn't talk about the Navy Cross?"
Peggy froze in the middle of adding milk to her tea. After a moment, she put the bottle down and stirred carefully, thoughts racing. Without turning to Daniel or letting her surprise inflect her voice, she said, "What do you mean?"
Daniel shrugged, a little jerkily. "I don't know. Everything's always bigger and better with him, you know? He'll tell you how much he earns or how long his - ah, you know, he'll brag. But he changes the topic every time it comes up."
She tapped the spoon against the side of her cup. "Perhaps he -" She broke off, struggling for the words that would turn Daniel's attention away from the issue. "Perhaps he simply doesn't like to talk about things that happened over there. We've all been there; it's never anything like the medals or newsreels seem to say it was."
"Yeah, sure," Daniel said. "It just doesn't seem like Thompson to not tell everyone he knows about it."
"You don't talk about your Purple Heart," Peggy pointed out, not ungently. Daniel stiffened.
"That's different."
"It is," Peggy agreed. "It's different for all of us."
A pair of familiar footsteps joined them at the office commissary before Daniel could respond. Peggy glanced back down into her cup and added a generous spoonful of sugar.
"I see my top agents are spending their workday productively," Jack remarked, his smirk a sharp line in his face.
Peggy shot him a rather arch look. "I see Chief Thompson is having an equally productive day," she said. "Have you admitted defeat yet?"
Jack made a face. He'd been fighting, along with Agent Faut and some rather obnoxious pencil-pushers, to balance the New York SSR's budget for the better part of the week. Most of his morning had been spent in a meeting with the senator's aide.
"I got 'em on the ropes," he said. Daniel clears his throat, rather judgementally.
Peggy isn't quite sure who he's been more upset with recently: Jack, for taking the promotion, or her, for not being bothered by it.
His attitude was a bit annoying, to be honest. Frankly, she was never going to receive a Medal of Honor or the position as New York Chief, no matter who advocated for her or what evidence was presented to the U.S. government. Daniel had to know that, too; the man wasn't stupid. And he had to realize that having Jack in charge, where they could keep an eye on him, was better than any alternative.
"We were discussing wartime medals," Peggy said instead of all that. Jack stiffened; Daniel noticed; Peggy rolled her eyes. "I once knew a man who earned an Order of the Bath for strategic actions in battle." She considered the memory. "He had terrible teeth."
"Order of the Bath?" Jack said, disbelieving.
"For conspicuous heroism taking place in a sauna," Daniel said. Both men laughed. Peggy sniffed. They had no respect, these Americans.
"What about Carter?" Jack asked, still laughing.
Peggy blinked at him. "What about me?" she said.
"What kind of awards did Agent Peggy Carter deign to accept?"
"I didn't earn any," Peggy said stiffly. "Women aren't combatants."
That's a bit of an oversimplification, she will admit in the privacy of her own mind. There were a few medals she could have theoretically earned, from the Americans and her own government, had circumstances regarding her service not been so, well, unique.
Some Englishwomen had received medals, but their service had been different than hers - usually as pilots or somesuch, not the covert missions she had in occupied France and Nazi Germany.
She may have qualified from the U.S. Women's Army Corps Service Medal, although it perhaps would have required Colonel Phillips to pull a few strings. Peggy had occupied a strange place in the war: a woman, first of all, and therefore not allowed in combat or eligible to receive medals for heroism under fire. But she had also been a spy, someone who technically didn't exist; and a British operative working for the Americans. Both sides had simply sort of - cut her loose, after victory was obtained and she was no longer useful.
It was only due to Colonel Phillips' recommendation that she had this job in the first place. Peggy pursed her lips, then shook herself out of her thoughts.
Only to find the two men staring at her like they had just been dunked in ice water. It was a bit unsettling. She took a sip of tea.
"Anyway," she said. "I actually do have work to do. Daniel, try to keep in mind what I was saying."
Jack was frowning at her. Daniel was frowning, too, but his gaze flicked to Jack once when she spoke, before he nodded.
"Sure thing," he said, and shifted on his crutch out of her way to let her back to her desk.
: :
Peggy frequently found herself the last person in the office, nowadays, with the possible exceptions being Daniel and Jack. Right now, Daniel's dark head of curls was bent over his desk and Jack's light was still on in his office, although the blinds were drawn.
They've all been working in a companionable silence for the last two hours. Daniel was eating something that smelled hot and spiced at his desk; little noises kept coming from the Chief's office, the sound of a file cabinet being opened or the desk chair being pushed back.
For Peggy's part, she's been combing through reports of gun sales to women matching Dottie's description in the tri-state area. She has found three that warrant a closer look, and was just about to get herself another cup of tea and really settle in when Jack's door opened and he slouched out.
He stopped in front of her desk. She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. He stared at her for a second, looking troubled.
"Yes?" she ventured, when it became clear he wasn't going to say anything to her.
"Can I talk to you?" he asked, rather abruptly.
Daniel was looking at them now. Peggy drummed her fingernails on her desk, then nodded and followed Jack into his office, where he shut the door behind them.
He then proceeded to stand at his desk, hands braced against the wood, staring blankly. Peggy was honestly starting to get worried, not that she thought letting Jack know that was a good idea.
"Chief Thompson?" she said. She didn't touch his arm, but it was a close thing.
Jack opened his desk drawer and pulled out a box. It looked like a large jewelry box and was made of navy blue leather, with gold detailing. Peggy didn't need to ask what was inside it - even if it hadn't had the name of the medal printed on it in little gold letters, she would have known.
"You should have it," Jack said. His face was grim and set.
"Jack!" Peggy said, shocked.
"You should have it," he insisted. "I don't - it shouldn't be me, anyway. And you deserve it, Peggy. We both know that." Jack glanced at her, then glanced away. "I was going to put it out on my desk but - I couldn't. I can't. You should have it."
Peggy stared at him, feeling like her heart was in her throat. Jack Thompson was a liar, and a fraud, and a self-serving, arrogant pain-in-the-arse to work with, but sometimes he still surprised her.
And, anyway, it would do no one any favors to make this into a bigger deal than it already was. She nodded, and carefully took the box and tucked it under one arm.
"I'll keep it safe," she said quietly. Then, more briskly, "Do you want me to brief you on the progress I've made in the Underwood case?"
"Christ," Jack said, rubbing his eyes. He laughed, a little wetly. "Yeah, that'd be great. Tell me you got something."
They talked for a few minutes. Jack agreed with her that there was meat in the rumor of a bank robbery being planned, although neither of them could fathom why a notorious Communist would want to rob a bank. When Peggy left his office with the Navy Cross in hand, Jack was pouring himself a Scotch, looking exhausted and like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
Daniel looked up as Peggy fastened the clasps of her purse and got her coat. "You leaving?" he asked, and then considered her more closely. "Are you okay, Peggy?"
"Yes," she said. "Just, you know." She looked at Jack's office door and clutched the rectangular shape in her purse tighter. "I need to get home."
"I'll walk you out," Daniel said, still watching her. "I'm just about done here anyway."
Peggy waited while he grabbed his coat, hat, and briefcase. She had to watch her pace a bit when she's walking with Daniel, but the company was usually worth it. Tonight, she was tired and a little shaken and a bit too reflective, and she appreciated the distraction of having to make small talk with Daniel as they walked to the subway station together.
As they were waiting for her train - hers was due in four minutes; Daniel's, in six - Daniel said, apropos of nothing, "I guess I just never expect Thompson to care enough about anything to feel, I don't know." He looked across the platform blankly. "Shame or guilt or, or loss. Or anything."
Peggy looked at him. "I know what you mean," she said.
"You know why he doesn't talk about the Navy Cross." It wasn't a question. Daniel wasn't looking at her.
Peggy tucked her heavy purse tighter to her torso and breathed out slowly. "Yes," she said. Just yes, and nothing else.
Daniel nodded, still staring across the empty platform. "Is it something I should know about?"
She gave that some thought. "It's not something I'm going to tell you," she said finally. "Not without Jack's permission, which I don't think he'd give. But it doesn't change who he is, not really. It might explain some of what he's done, recently." Then, because she wanted to be honest with Daniel: "Although you may not like the explanation."
He dipped his chin to his chest. "Alright," he said, then again, quieter, "Alright."
Her train arrived, and Peggy boarded, wishing Daniel a good night. Peggy observed him through the car's dirty, cracked window, a dark figure braced on his crutch, looking down at the concrete beneath his shoes. Peggy put one hand into her purse, pressing her palm against Jack's medal as she watched him.
As the train pulled away from the platform, Daniel seemed to shake himself and turned toward the opposite tracks, where his train going the other direction was arriving.
#peggy carter#daniel sousa#jack thompson#agent carter#peggysouson#the title is based on the requirements for being awarded a navy cross btw. in case you cared.#also the implication in what i have just written that jack regularly talks about his dick with daniel is. oh boy. its not heterosexual.#anyway this is technically gen AND canon compliant its just that they are all very clearly in love with each other too. so#also they are just straight up having. three different fucking conversations in this story. communication? i dont know her#ive seen fic where peggy is highly decorated and tbh i dont know enough about wwii military practices to know if that is realistic#but based on how she's treated at the ssr i suspect that she did not recieve awards in the war (justified by the reasons stated in this fic#and from my understanding of wwii both jack and daniel recieved multiple medals#jack got the navy cross; the asiatic-pacific campaign medal; and potentially the navy occupation service medal#daniel got a purple heart; eame ribbon; and potentially the army of occupation medal#plus they may have gotten more depending on the battles they were in and stuff? idk i'm not military girl#but yeah this was basically an excuse to have jack give peggy his navy cross and for everyone to have Complicated Feelings#this was also inspired by the fact that i realized in my rewatch that jack Does Not talk about his navy cross. he laughs and deflects#and goes all conspicuously humble and changes the topic. and he'll brag about anything BUT the navy cross (which makes me go feral btw)#backwards and in high heels#mcu#myfic
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Going insane over Fairest reread I love when beloved books from days of yore are as good as I remember
#gail carson levine#fairest#daisyreads#Ivi and Aza as parallels both driven by their insecurity!!!#the characters actually acting within their cultural/religious framework!!!#the little worldbuilding touches like the symmetrical names and words!!!!#I think this book was a big contributor to my love of political/palace-intrigue flavored fantasy come to think of it#also Ivi is SUCH a compelling character the way that she's so clearly vulnerable and incompetent yet has such a hold over people#the way that Aza's terrified of her but also half in love with her#but also! she's not even that smart! we see through her and yet can't outsmart her!#And also the way Aza/Ijori works pretty well as a pairing bc almost immediately they are cast as a team#first in the composing game as a kind of foreshadowing to their larger shared task of Managing Ivi#Literally the part I'm at now they barely know each other#but they're already working together to try to keep Ivi from upending the kingdom on day 1 of her being in charge lol#in a very practical and mutually respectful kind of way#but anyway bi Aza is canon to me#this book is so well crafted. read and respect it or die by my blade
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i love how passionate and emotional fic seongjoong is when irl they're like... an arranged marriage... lol
#not to say that they don't like each other or anything but. atz in particular seem quite aware (and not hiding it) of the practice of#ships -- not as in 'fans produce fanworks of you' but rather 'fans like your dynamics! play it up a little'#and the leader + the second 'highest' member are almost always shipped together as the 'mom' and 'dad'#which kind of doesn't make sense because a marriage usually precedes having children but in kpop is like. well here's a group and you're#two eldest members so you automatically get the mom/dad positions. sometimes it works -- whether automatically or because the#aforementioned members feel the need to take care of other members as they're the eldest -- but sometimes the dynamic is clearly#just there for the fans. and i can't help but notice that a whole bunch of 'moments' in 'seongjoong compilations' are like... not authentic#moments of them enjoying their time together but them being awkward/having awkward banter/doing fanservice during fanmeetings#and that's Different from the organic air ie woosan have#this is not to make fun of seongjoong fans because I PERSONALLY put very dramatic seongjoong in my hashtag Fic Verse#but then my fic verse was kickstarted because of that hwalazia magic and a single line in atz diary from fever 1. so it is. shall we say.#not particularly canon-inspired.#but i WOULD kill and die for every single fanfiction in which seongjoong aren't romantic sweethearts at the first sight but rather Struggle#i feel like Struggling is this... sort of a facet of their Brand... and so is mutually taking care of each other lol#they're like. this arranged marriage couple who grew to care about each other. not like 'oh shit two months in i realized i'm incredibly in#love with my spouse!' but 'yeah yknow what i like you here. stay'#good afternoon everyone enjoy this meandering and probably incorrect analysis of a relationship between two kpop lads#shrimp thoughts
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Relativity Falls!
Design Concepts (and my unnecessary thoughts):
Excuse the the colors, ig my apps are fighting.
I see Mabel finding success no matter what happens to her, but I really like the thought of her running an insane arts and crafts business in GF. Alternatively, if she fell in the portal, she'd come out acting confident as always, but she probably wouldn't realize how much the constant change and lack of family/stability wore her out until she settled back in. In either case, she's a bit cracked.
Dipper is investigative, but cracks easiest under stress and is not as inherently adventurous as Mabel or Ford- so the portal wouldn't treat him well. If he's not the one in the portal, he'd be into stargazing and real magic to share with people, while also warding tourists away from the dangerous stuff. In general, he'd be an unhappy adult if left to his own devices, lol.
Between Dipper and Mabel, I like Dipper being in the portal more. He's a great protagonist, but as a supporting cast member, he needs to be more insane to match the draw that is 'Mabel taking care of children,' ha. I also love the idea of there being no portal / some other looming threat for these two to struggle with (at least because Hirsche has made it clear that Dipper and Mabel are equally smart, and to me it seems like the portal would reopen way quicker with them), but I didn't plan on posting these and I don't know how my followers feel about me posting lore.
Stanford and Stanley:
Pretty much how they are in canon, but now they're in a setting where they can get over themselves, ha. They aren't quite as mature as Dipper and Mabel were at their age, but after coming to GF, they finally found other people to look out for them. Dipper could be a more emotionally available and level-headed role model (I think having people to take care of is calming for him in turn), and they'd both look up to Mabel as the peak of somebody who knows how to socialize.
Fiddleford:
He's a sweet, southern, farm-raised mechanical engineer just like in canon.
Idk why Fiddleford is in GF (visiting an unnamed grandparent?), but I really like his relationship with Ford in the journal. Following that thought, in this AU, he starts out more of Ford's friend than Stan's, and it's kind of a big deal. Unlike Dipper's arc on learning to be a kid, Stan and Ford clearly struggled a lot with interpersonal relationships / finding security outside of eachother, and that's what I think this AU could be about (it's great they realized they need each other in canon, but the part where they had no one else to turn to is also kinda crazy if you ask me).
Ford gets to meet another smart kid in a weird town, which helps him feel more normal. He has a better idea of what friendship is because of it, but also, since I can't imagine Dipper wanting an apprentice so young/vulnerable/impressionable or Mabel asking only one of the twins to stay- he'd have to come to terms with the fact that he can't live in his dream world forever. (Or maybe the apprenticeship comes from somewhere else, just because the conflict around going back to Glass Shard Beach at all, or sending Stan alone could be pretty good.)
On the flipside, I think Stan's initial jealousy of Ford and Fiddleford's friendship would force him to try finding his own friends / hobbies. I like the idea that he fails at first- and a lot- but Mabel notices his mounting frustration (which he is very keen on hiding), and her consistent and unorthodox support makes him realize he wasn't alone to begin with. He can be more open around her, which makes it easier to open up to others, and then he can make friends without having to pull any tricks. He probably starts with some animals, and then at least gets closer to Fiddleford anyways (I feel like they're both more practical than Ford and value human company more, so they'd bond easier once Stan gets over his personal hurdle).
Anyways- because that was way too much- Mabel's exes are a constant source of antagonists and Dipper is stressed about setting a good example.
(I was more of a Monster Falls fan back in the day, but I can't draw animals, lol)
#fanart#gravity falls#relativity falls#relativity au#mabel pines#dipper pines#stanford pines#stanley pines#fiddleford mcgucket#fiddauthor#(if you wish)#I wasn't planning on doing any AU fanart#but designing mabel was way too fun#damn i didn't even draw bill#oh well#i have mixed feelings and ideas for how he'd fit in anyways
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roronoa zoro; 21,051 words (not including epilogue), fluff and angst, ENEMIES!!! to lovers, the slowest of slow burns, canon-normal violence, on-page description of injury, excessive use of flashbacks, some banter, healing from trauma, baroque works!reader to strawhat!reader, no "y/n", emotionally constipated!zoro, hurt and comfort, angst with a happy ending; (epilogue tags will be posted separately)
summary: in which neither you nor zoro are the children you remember each other to be.
update: new chapters will be posted on @shouyuus!!!
a/n: IT'S FINALLY HERE!!! i honestly cannot believe i actually finished writing this lmfao. but anyway, this post will act as a table of contents/masterlist of sorts, and i will update links to the separate chapters as they go up. chapters will be posted every few days (but they are all done! except for the epilogue LOL). i've tagged everyone who has req-ed to be tagged in this series so far on this prologue post, but if you wish to be tagged for the upcoming chapters and you're not already on this fics specific taglist, please comment below to be added! and without further ado -- here we go!
TABLE OF CONTENTS â
prologue: someone, somewhere
chapter one: a shadow of the past
chapter two: tell no tales
chapter three: sleep of the living, dreams of the dead
chapter four: another life
chapter five: true love's kiss
epilogue: la petite mort (nsfw)
prologue: someone, somewhere
He remembers you most as a child, in halcyon images and gold-limned flashes of his own childhood memories, the edges blurring watercolor soft, but the center (always you) carved in knife-sharp relief.
You were one of the few children that lived in Shimotsuki Village who hadnât come from the doujou â one of the few children he knew that (at least to the best of his knowledge) had a thing called family. A mother to braid your hair, a father to chase the darkness away, a warm bed and a kitchen that always smelled of freshly made rice. And perhaps it was jealousy, or some other more complicated emotion that had been then too big to name with one single word, but heâd never gone out of his way to befriend you like the other kids from the doujou did â fascinated as they were by your soft hands and round cheeks and the bright, glittering array of homemade sweets youâd bring with you once every couple of weeks.
Heâd learn later on that it was because Shimotsuki-sensei had saved your fatherâs life at some point in time; the story now lost to the annals of legend and withering memory, but back then, heâd only assumed it was the natural way of things. Of waking up for kata practice and then settling in for lunch, and then maybe, if it was to be a good day, you, with your basket of sweets and your blue-bell laughter.
And perhaps this is why, years later, when he meets you again in a dark, nameless village tavern, he doesnât recognize you â not at first. Because youâd looked so different. Gone was the roundness in your cheeks, or the natural star-bright light in your eyes. Gone, too, were the bright braids that your hair had always been set in â he remembers so clearly, watching the other boys from the doujou jab their fingers into the rings of your pinned up braids, pulling down just to hear you squeak. He hadnât said anything then, stupidly thinking him above it all, watching as you tried to jerk away, but laughing when the boys finally relented with half-hearted apologies.
You always threatened to take their sweets away; you never did, in the end.
But there, then, in that tiny tavern, youâd been thin, your hair dark as an oil spill, loose and inky as it cascades over your shoulders, your eyes lightless as the windows to an abandoned house â the hollowness made all the more visceral by the light he knew once inhabited them. The way loneliness is always more potent when coming back to it, the second time around.
He wanders up to the bar, slates you a glance before rapping his knuckles on the worn wood to catch the bartenderâs attention.
âIâll have beer and a refill of whatever the ladyâs having.â
You shift slightly, shoulders hunching towards your ears.
âThanks, but no thanks,â you say, shifting to shield your face from his gaze.
Zoro cocks his head, tossing a few Berry towards the bartender as they set down a stein of beer and a champagne flute to replace the one in front of you.
âCanât a guy buy a girl a drink?â Zoro asks, rolling his shoulders as he reaches out for his beer. You eye him warily.
âNot for a guy thatâs been tracking me for three weeks straight.â
Zoro hums, thumb poised on the hilt of his swords.
âWe just happened to be going in the same direction.â
You reach out to run a forefinger along the rim of the thin champagne flute before swirling it once by the base. You watch the bubbles fizzle before leaning in to take a dainty sip.
âAnd they say chivalry is deadâŚâ you murmur, almost too softly for him to hear. Zoro scoffs, allowing himself a twinge of a smirk before his mouth falls flat.
âYou let me track you for three whole weeks.â
Thereâs no question in his words, only a harsh, accusatory certainty.
You lick your lips, leaning back in your stool, tugging your glass of champagne with you.
âMaybe I wanted the company.â
âOr maybe⌠you wanted me to follow you here.â
Every muscle in his body is tense, drawn taut as a tightrope, coiled tight as a spring.
You sigh, twisting a single lock of your hair around a finger, examining the ends as if looking for split hairs.
Then, quick as a flash, youâre at each otherâs throats â him with a sword poised at your jugular, you with a knife pressed against his stomach.
âOne move ââ you warn, digging the knife slightly further into his skin. Distinctly, Zoro feels the pressure slice through his thick linen shirt, the cool kiss of the blade against his abdomen. And heâs killed enough by now to know that youâve picked a major artery â one that would hurt, and take minutes for him bleed out. Just long enough for him to suffer, but not enough to get help.
The edge of his mouth ticks upward â not bad.
Itâs then, in the infinitesimal flicker of your eyes meeting his, that he realizes who you are.
He nearly topples back, jerking away slightly with the revelation. Your eyes go wide, jolted by his sudden movement. But heâs quick enough to evade the sharp jab of your knife and a second later, youâre on either ends of the tavern, drawn blades and bared teeth.
âY-you!â the word rips from Zoro like an unripe scab, thick and hard and still bloody underneath.
You lick your lips, eyes narrowing to slits beneath your long, lanky hair.
âI donât know what youâre talking about.â
âThe hell you donât.â
âOi! No fighting in the bar!â the barkeepâs voice is gruff and loud, and for a second, Zoro wonders if youâll listen. The next, the sharp clang of metal on metal stuns him backwards a few steps as you wrest your knives from between two of his katanas, snarling.
âIf youâre so much of a gentleman â letâs take this outside.â
âLadies first,â Zoro spits out as he whips both swords through the air before sheathing them. He makes a show of holding the tavern door for you as you stalk out in front of him, your hackles raised, your knives jutting out from your belt like so many pairs of sharpened claws.
âWhat do you want?â you ask, as soon as youâre both out of the bar and standing in the moonlit street outside, the wharf to your left, the strip of small, rundown taverns to your right.
The air twangs with the metallic smell of fish and the thick, oppressive sweetness of rotting wood.
âAn explanation,â Zoro says, crossing his arms and planting his feet.
âI donât owe you anything.â
Zoro nods, âSure. But that doesnât mean I donât wanna know.â
You lick your lips, glaring at him for a second longer before turning and marching down the rickety boardwalk. A moment later, Zoro levels himself with you as you round a corner onto a small stretch of beach, pillowed against a backdrop of sharp, unrelenting rocks, the tips bleached white by the round, silver moon.
âThere was a beach just like this,â you say, stepping onto the tide-soaked sand, leaning down to pick up a fragment of a broken seashell, washed ashore by an errant wave.
It takes Zoro a second to realize youâre talking about Shimotsuki village, and the tiny little beach on the other side of the dense, cedar wood.
âYeah. A bunch of us used to play there â see who can throw rocks out the furthest.â
âYou were always the best at that,â you say, your voice softer than heâd heard all night.
âYeah, wellâŚâ Zoro shrugs, leaning down to pick up a piece of rock, weighing it in his palm a few times before whipping his arm back to snap it into the gentle, shushing waves. You both watch as the rock skids out over the water before plunking into the sea, âGuess Iâve always been kind of a show-off.â
The sound of your laughter sends summertime sparklers racing up his spine.
The quiet pools between you like spilt blood, rank and dripping.
âSo. You go by Ms. Double Nines now, I heard,â Zoro says, in a flagging attempt to be casual as he turns to glance at you, both his hands resting on the hilt of his swords.
You stand next to him, your eyes focused on a point far out on the horizon, still as statue.
âWhatâs it to you?â
Zoro sighs, looking down. In the pale, cool moonlight, his earrings glint like baring teeth.
âWhat happened?â
You suck in a breath.
"Life happened,â you say, turning back towards him with a steely glint in your eyes. Zoro stiffens, his grip tightening on his swords as he sizes you up. He does the mental calculations â youâre just far enough for him to defend against an attack, but close enough where if things were to go south entirely, heâd have a hard time getting back to safety.
You grin, seemingly noticing his rough internal calculations.
âDo yourself a favor, Roronoa â and donât ask questions you donât wanna know the answers to,â you say, flicking out one of your blades and tossing it up into the air, only to catch it around your finger, swinging it round and round, the sharp edge of the blade nicking the air just shy of your cheekbone.
âWho said I didnât want to know?â Zoro presses, bracing himself for a fight.
You chuckle, the sound harsh and mirthless.
âIf youâd wanted to fight me properly, you wouldnât have waited till I got you onto this stretch of deserted beach.â
âMaybe I just wanted a quiet place to kill you.â
âOr maybeâŚâ your voice is so low Zoro almost doesnât catch the stomach-wrenching longing in your words, âI just wanted a quiet place to die.â
The sharp shink of blades being drawn is heart-rendingly familiar, but the bone-rattling clash of metal on metal still shakes him to the roots of his teeth. Zoro grunts as he parries a blow from either side, before crossing his swords to catch your assault down the center.
Youâre fast, heâll give you that, your body smaller and quicker. You slip through the shadows with the comfort of a person who knows nothing but and he canât help wondering at the life youâve led that had pushed you to this point.
To having a mark on your back, a bounty on your head.
Youâre a good fighter â this much, he acknowledges. But good isnât usually good enough to best him. This much, he also knows. Yet somehow, youâre keeping up, somehow, youâre pushing him back, forcing him to retreat one step and then another. Itâs not until you duck beneath one of his pin-wheeling blades and force yourself into a knifeâs-breath of his space that he realizes â it isnât that youâre good, itâs that youâre reckless.
Reckless with your own body in a way that makes him stumble back at the realization. Reckless, in the way you charge forward and thrust your body into spaces where heâd easily be able to slip a blade between your ribs â and later, when heâs wiping his swords clean of your oxidizing blood, heâd wonder why he didnât.
Still, thereâs something terrifying in the way you barely flinch when he knicks your arm, drawing a dark line of blood through your clothes, or how you jerk yourself forward when the tip of his sword catches your stomach, almost as if daring him to impale you in one fell swoop.
âYou â you used to be⌠someone else,â he says, panting as he steadies himself against a sharp jut of moonlit rocks. Behind you, the ocean churns, dark and foaming as it throws itself onto the jagged reefs.
You lick your lips, wiping a smear of blood from your cheek. Your chest heaves with the exertion, but thereâs a pale, flickering ache behind your eyes that sets Zoroâs whole body on edge.
He shivers as you grin, savage and unrecognizable as the tiny girl with mochi-round cheeks who had once upon a time offered him sweets in a hand-woven basket.
âYeah? Well â so did you.â
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Unveiled
Masterlist || Ao3
AN:Â This has been on my to-write list forever...hope you guys like it!
Pairing:Â Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader
Word Count:Â 4k
Tags/Warnings:Â Mild Injury, Mentions of Field Work, Secretive Behavior, Slight Jealousy, Light Swearing, Mentions of Emotional Vulnerability, Secret Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Marriage, Canon-Typical Themes.
Sypnosis:Â You and Aaron Hotchner have always been experts at keeping work and personal life separateâso much so that the team doesnât even know youâre together, let alone married. But secrets can only stay hidden for so long, especially when small details start catching everyoneâs attention.
The BAU bullpen buzzes with the usual hum of activity. Cases to close, profiles to refine, and endless paperwork to finish. You settle into your desk with a practiced air of nonchalance, tugging the sleeve of your blazer slightly to cover the delicate wedding band now gracing your finger.
The slim band--simple, not flashy, was perfect for both your personality and the line of work you were in. You could count the times on one hand how often JJ had to get her ring fixed or cleaned from the damage being in the field caused. You did not need diamonds or an extravagant engagement or wedding. You had everything and more with the man who had the matching band upstairs.Â
You glance across the bullpen, up to Aaronâs office. Heâs buried in a stack of reports, his expression unreadable, as always. His left hand is occupied with a red pen, and the thin gold band is barely visible but there nonetheless.
Your lips twitch into a subtle smile as you recall the whirlwind of the weekend: the drive to a secluded courthouse, the soft vows spoken just for each other, the quiet, private moment that bound you and Aaron together in a way only you two could understand--with Jack present, of course. Eloping had been a mutual decision, spurred on by years of hiding, countless near-misses at being caught, and the realization that you were done living for anyone but each other.
Ever the lawyer Aaron was and ever the practical woman you were, you knew marriage was essentially just paperwork. Personally, it did mean a lot more to the both of you in terms of commitment, so thatâs why you both decided to do it on a whim, to begin with, but there wasnât a need for the white dress or all the bells and whistles that you both found overkill. The slim gold bands were enough. The vows were enough. The love you shared was more than enough.
Now, the fun part began.
You turn back to your desk, shuffling through files with purpose as the team begins trickling in. The usual morning energy hums around you, but itâs impossible to ignore the slight thrill of knowing what youâre both hidingâand knowing it wonât be hidden for much longer.
âHey, Y/N!â Penelopeâs voice cuts through the air, cheerful as ever. âDoesnât this day feel extra special for some reason? Like the worldâs just radiating good vibes?â
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. âMaybe itâs just you, Penelope. Youâre the good vibes.â
She beams, clearly pleased with the answer, before skipping off to annoy Morgan. You catch Aaronâs eye for the briefest second, and the corner of his mouth twitchesâa rare, subtle sign of amusement.
The team trickles in gradually. Rossi strolls past your desk, sharp as ever, with his coffee in hand. His sharp eyes flicker to your hand, and he slows just slightly, one eyebrow quirking upward.
âNice ring, kid,â he says, voice casual but curious. âI didnât know you were seeing anyone serious enough settle down.â
Your breath hitches for a fraction of a second, but you quickly recover, offering him an easy shrug. âI like to keep my private life... private.â
Rossi had been the hardest over the years to keep at bay. Somehow, it became second nature to be soâŚsecluded in your personal life. It wasnât that you or Aaron were not sharing with the team, but you never felt the reason to shake things up. You, with your budding career, and him, with his reputation as a leader, why change that?Â
Rossi hums thoughtfully, clearly filing that information away for later. You glance over at Aaron again, his focus still trained on the file in front of him. His poker face is maddeningly perfect, but you know heâs listening intently.
It isnât too long after that a new case brings you to the round table room. You canât help but feel that there is still an unspoken buzz in the air. Rossiâs comment made you jumpier than youâd like. Not that youâre hiding anything, but the idea of changeâŚmakes you uneasy.Â
Aaron sits to your right, perfectly composed as always, flipping through the latest case files. His left hand holds a pen, the thin gold band on his ring finger catching the light with every movement. You glance at it, a quiet rush of warmth filling your chest. Your husband. Itâs still a surreal thought. You could feel the faintest hint of amusement radiating from him, even if his face betrayed nothing. The quiet thrill of your secret filled the air between you.
You refocus, nodding at something JJ says about an update from the field office, but you can feel Rossiâs eyes on you. Heâs seated across the table, his sharp gaze catching every detail. A slow, knowing smile creeps across his face, but he says nothingâyet.
âAnyway,â JJ continues, looking up from her notes, âweâll need to coordinate with local law enforcement to finalize those interviews.â She glances over, and her eyes snag on your hand mid-gesture. Her words falter for a split second before she quickly recovers. âMorgan, youâll take the lead.â
Morgan nods, clearly only half-listening. His focus has also shiftedâto Aaron, more specifically. His brow furrows as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed. âHotch, you got something new going on?â His tone is casual, but his grin betrays his curiosity. âThatâs one hell of an accessory youâre sporting.â
Aaron doesnât miss a beat, his voice calm and measured. âI wasnât aware my ring warranted commentary, Morgan.â
Morgan smirks, glancing at Rossi. âOh, come on, man. You walk in here wearing a wedding band out of nowhere? You canât expect us not to say something.â
Rossi leans forward slightly, his fingers steepled under his chin. âAnd here I thought I was the only one paying attention,â he says, his voice rich with amusement. âSeems our unit chief had quite the weekend.â
The rest of the team snaps to attention. JJâs head jerks toward Aaron, her eyes widening as she looks between him and you. Penelope, sitting at the far end of the table, gasps audibly.
âWait,â Penelope exclaims, her voice rising in pitch. âYouâre married now? When did this happen? Whoâs the lucky lady? Why wasnât I invited?â
âIâm not the only one,â Rossi interjects smoothly, his gaze now fixed on you. âLooks like Y/N had a busy weekend, too.â He nods toward your left hand.
You glance at Aaron, a silent exchange passing between you. His lips twitch into the faintest of smilesâso brief itâs almost imperceptible. But you catch it.
Penelopeâs sharp intake of breath breaks your focus. âWait a second,â she says, leaning forward, her gaze darting between you and Aaron. âY/N, is that... a wedding ring?â
Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your voice steady as you respond. âWhat about it?â
Morgan leans back in his chair, crossing his arms and smirking. âHold up,â he says, nodding toward Aaronâs hand again.Â
All eyes turn toward Aaron now. He calmly finishes jotting a note before closing the folder in front of him. âIs this relevant to the case?â he asks, his tone perfectly neutral.
Rossi tilts his head, his sharp gaze bouncing between you and Aaron. His lips curl into a knowing smile. âInteresting,â he says slowly, leaning back in his chair. âVery interesting.â
JJâs brow furrows as she glances between the two of you. Her eyes widen slightly as realization begins to dawn. âNo,â she says softly, more to herself than anyone else. Then louder, âWait a secondâare you twoâ?â
You glance at Aaron, and he gives you the slightest nod. With a small sigh, you lean back in your chair and let the corner of your mouth lift into a smirk. âYou really donât know?â you ask, your voice laced with amusement.
Aaron follows up, his tone carrying a faint edge of dry humor. âI thought you were better profilers than that.â
The room goes completely silent as the pieces click into place. Emily gasps, pointing between you and Aaron. âNo. No way. You two? Are you telling me youâre married to each other?â
Morgan bursts out laughing, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. âYouâre telling me youâve been dating this whole time, and none of us knew? I donât believe it. You two are way too good at this.â
Penelopeâs jaw drops. âWhat?! Oh my God, I feel so betrayed! How could you keep this from me? I shouldâve been your bridesmaidâor at least in the loop!â
Aaron raises a hand, his calm authority cutting through the chaos in the room. âWe made the decision to keep our relationship private to maintain professionalism,â he begins, his tone firm but warm. His eyes sweep the room, landing briefly on each team member before continuing. âThis team works best when there are no distractions, and we both agreed that our relationship couldnât interfere with that.â
He pauses, glancing at you. Thereâs a moment of silent understanding between you before you speak up, your voice steady but lighter than his. âIt wasnât about hiding, exactly. It was about making sure we stayed focused on the work that matters. But,â you add with a small, wry smile, âwe eventually realized we didnât need to keep it a secret anymore.â
Aaron picks up where you leave off, his tone softening slightly. âEspecially now that weâre married,â he says, letting the weight of the words settle over the room. âWe didnât make this decision lightly, and we both value the integrity of this team above all else. That hasnât changed, and it wonât.â
The room falls quiet again, the team absorbing the revelation. You can see the wheels turning in their minds as they piece together the years of subtle interactions, quiet glances, and the seamless way you and Aaron have worked together all this time.
JJ breaks the silence first, her expression shifting from shock to a warm smile. âWell,â she says softly, âcongratulations. You both deserve to be happy.â
Morgan leans forward, his grin widening. âAlright, Iâll give you two creditâthis is the best-kept secret Iâve seen in a long time. But man, Hotch, youâve got some explaining to do. Married? Without us knowing? Iâm hurt.â
Rossi chuckles, shaking his head. âI shouldâve seen it sooner,â he says, his tone amused but approving. âStill, I canât say Iâm surprised. You two make sense.â
Reid almost looks relieved, âI thought I was the only one who didnât pick up on things like this.âÂ
Penelope is the last to recover, her hands flying to her cheeks. âOh my gosh! This is so romantic!â She gestures wildly between you and Aaron. âSecret agents in love, sneaking off to get marriedâitâs like a spy movie! Please tell me there are pictures. I need pictures. And cake! Why isnât there cake?â
You laugh, finally letting yourself relax a little as you glance at Aaron. He gives you a small, almost imperceptible smileâone the others might miss, but you recognize instantly. Beneath the table, his pinky brushes against yours, a subtle reminder that youâre in this together.
âAlright,â Aaron says, his commanding tone bringing the room back into focus. âWe still have work to do, and I expect everyone to stay focused on the case.â
Morgan leans back in his chair, still grinning. âYeah, yeah, boss. But this conversation isnât over.â
Rossi smirks. âDonât worry, Derek. Something tells me thereâs more to this story, and weâll get the details eventually.â
You exchange a knowing glance with Aaron as the team begins to settle down, still buzzing with excitement. Itâs out in the open nowâno more hiding, no more secrets. Just you, Aaron, and the life youâve quietly built together finally shared with the people who matter most.
The case wraps up after a grueling few days. The unsub is in custody, and while the tension of the investigation still lingers, the mood on the jet back home is noticeably lighter. The team is scattered around the cabinâMorgan and Rossi are in their usual seats, discussing the finer points of profiling techniques, while Spencer is engrossed in a book.
You find yourself seated with JJ and Emily at the small table near the galley. Emily is flipping through a magazine, and JJ is scrolling on her phone, but their attention shifts to you when you pull out your phone and casually unlock it.
âYou know,â you say, leaning back in your chair with a small grin, âsince you all feel so left out, I figured Iâd show you some photos from the elopement.â
Emilyâs eyes snap up from her magazine, and JJâs face lights up with interest. âFinally!â Emily exclaims, leaning in. âI thought you were going to make us beg.â
JJ nudges your arm. âIâve been dying to see these. Penelopeâs already planning a post-wedding celebration for you two.â
You chuckle and swipe to the photo album. The first image you show is a candid oneâa shot of you and Aaron outside the courthouse, his hand resting gently on your back, both of you mid-laugh. JJ lets out a soft âAww,â and Emily whistles low under her breath.
âLook at you two,â Emily says, her tone teasing but fond. âWho knew Hotch could look so... human?â
You laugh, swiping to the next picture, a close-up of your intertwined hands with your wedding bands gleaming in the sunlight. âHeâs full of surprises,â you quip.
As you share a few more photos, some with Jack, some Jack actually took of you and Aaron.
Aaron walks by, a cup of coffee in hand. He pauses when he notices the three of you huddled around your phone. âAre you showing them the photos?â he asks, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity.
âOf course,â you reply, looking up at him with a playful grin. âThey demanded proof.â
Aaron hums thoughtfully, his gaze softening as he leans slightly over the table. âYou should show them the photo from last year. The one from the Amalfi Coast.â Thereâs an amused glint in Aaronâs eyeâs that makes you want to roll your own, but you satisfy everyone anyway.
JJ blinks, looking between the two of you. âWait. The Amalfi Coast? Together?â
Emily narrows her eyes, clearly piecing something together. âHold on. Didnât you both take time off around the same time last summer?â
Before you can answer, Reid speaks up from his seat across the cabin, his voice laced with disbelief. âYou mean the trip to Italy? I remember you both mentioned visiting Italy, but I never connected the dots that you were there together.â
Morgan, catching the tail end of the conversation, leans over the back of his seat. âHold upâthatâs what you were doing last year? You two were off in Italy, sipping wine and living the good life, and we had no idea?â
Rossi chuckles from across the cabin, shaking his head. âItâs impressive, really. I mean, a courthouse wedding is one thing, but hiding a vacation together? Thatâs next-level stealth.â
Emily laughs, gesturing toward your phone. âAlright, show us this Amalfi Coast picture. I need to see the evidence.â
With a shake of your head, you scroll back to the album from the trip. You find the photo Aaron mentionedâa picture of the two of you standing on a sunlit terrace overlooking the ocean, the breeze catching your hair while Aaron stands beside you, looking uncharacteristically relaxed in a linen shirt. You hand the phone over, and JJ and Emily lean in closer.
âThis is so unfair,â JJ says, shaking her head with a smile. âYou two look like you walked out of a travel magazine.â
âYeah, I canât believe we didnât put this together sooner,â Emily adds, smirking. âI mean, Hotch in a linen shirt? That shouldâve been the giveaway.â
Aaron shakes his head with a faint chuckle, taking a sip of his coffee. âI told you we were better at keeping secrets than they gave us credit for.â
You grin, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. âWell, now you all know. Mystery solved.â
Reid looks up from his book, still shaking his head. âI feel like I shouldâve noticed. The behavioral cues were there...â
Morgan snorts. âDonât beat yourself up, kid. They had us all fooled.â
JJ hands your phone back, smiling warmly. âWell, for the record, Iâm glad we know now. You two really are perfect together.â
Aaron catches your eye from where heâs standing, his expression soft but steady. Itâs a look that speaks volumes, and you know youâll both carry this momentâthis quiet joy of finally being yourselves with your teamâfor a long time.
As the jet hums softly beneath you, you settle into the warmth of the conversation, knowing that the life youâve built with Aaron is now shared with the people who matter most.
When the jet touches down, and the team unloads into the bullpen, you barely have time to gather your things before Penelope corners you and Aaron. Sheâs been dropping comments all case longâabout needing details, demanding photos, and lamenting her exclusion from what sheâs now referring to as The Most Romantic Secret Ever Keptâbut this time, thereâs no escape.
âAlright, you two!â Penelope exclaims, her hands on her hips as she plants herself in front of you both. Her eyes sparkle with determination. âIâve been patient. Iâve waited through an entire case, and now you owe me. Spill it. All of it. When, where, how? I need the full story.â
Aaron glances at you, his lips twitching in faint amusement. âI told you this would happen,â he murmurs under his breath.
You chuckle softly and look at Penelope. âFine,â you say, holding up your hands in mock surrender. âWeâll tell youâbriefly.â
Penelopeâs expression brightens instantly. âFinally!â she squeals, clapping her hands together. âOkay, start from the beginning.â
Aaron crosses his arms, his authoritative posture intact but his tone softer than usual. âIt started a few years ago,â he begins, glancing at you. âNot long after you joined the team.â
You nod, picking up the thread. âIt wasnât planned. We just... clicked. We kept things professional at first, but over time, it became harder to ignore. Eventually, we decided it was worth exploring, but we agreed to keep it private.â
Penelopeâs eyes are wide as saucers. âYears? You mean to tell me youâve been dating for years, and I had no idea?â
Aaron tilts his head slightly. âWe were careful,â he says simply. âWe didnât want our relationship to interfere with the team dynamic or the work we do.â
âAnd we didnât think anyone would benefit from knowing,â you add. âIt was easier to keep it between us.â
âBut how?â Penelope presses, leaning closer. âI mean, weâre profilers! How did you manage to keep it under wraps?â
You exchange a knowing look with Aaron before answering. âWeâve always been good at separating our personal and professional lives,â you say. âAt work, we focused on the cases. Outside of work... we had each other.â
Aaron nods. âWe were deliberate about our interactions here, and we made sure not to let anything slip.â
Penelope looks genuinely impressed, though sheâs clearly not done grilling you. âSo, no one ever suspected? Not even Rossi?â
You laugh. âOh, Rossi definitely had his suspicions,â you admit. âBut he never said anything outright.â
Aaron smirks faintly. âI think he enjoyed watching the rest of you try to figure it out.â
Penelope groans dramatically, throwing her hands in the air. âI canât believe this. You two are like... spy-level secretive. I donât know whether to be mad at you or impressed.â
âBe impressed,â you say with a grin. âItâs less stressful.â
Penelope narrows her eyes at both of you, then sighs. âFine. But only because youâre ridiculously adorable together. And because Iâm still planning a post-wedding party. Youâre not getting out of that.â
Aaron shakes his head with a faint smile. âI wouldnât expect anything less.â
With that, Penelope finally relents, though she shoots you both one last look that clearly says sheâs not done asking questions. As she flounces off to her office, you exhale a soft laugh, turning to Aaron.
âWell,â you say lightly, âthat went better than I expected.â
Aaronâs gaze softens, and he leans in slightly, his voice low. âSheâll be back.â
You laugh, shaking your head as the two of you head toward your offices. Itâs out in the open nowâyour story, your love, your life together. And though youâve enjoyed the secrecy, thereâs something freeing about finally being able to share it with your team.
After a long day and an even longer week, the bullpen finally clears out. The soft hum of computers and the faint buzz of the overhead lights are the only sounds left as you and Aaron prepare to leave. You gather your things, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as he approaches with his jacket draped over his arm.
âYou ready?â he asks, his voice low and steady.
You nod, falling into step beside him as the two of you head toward the elevator. Thereâs an unspoken ease between you; the weight of secrecy finally lifted. When the elevator doors close, Aaron glances at you, his lips quirking into the faintest smirk.
âYou know,â he says, his tone laced with quiet humor, âwe donât have to stagger our exits anymore.â
You laugh softly, shaking your head. âNo more waiting ten minutes so no one sees us leaving together?â
âOr arriving,â he adds. âNo more separate cars or pretending to run into each other in the parking lot. Weâve been doing that for years. I think itâs become muscle memory.â
The thought makes you smile as the elevator dings, and you step out into the cool night air. You walk together to the car, and the rhythmic click of your shoes is the only sound. When you slide into the passenger seat, and Aaron starts the engine, the hum of the car fills the silence.
As he pulls onto the road, you glance over at him, the city lights casting fleeting shadows across his face. âDo you ever think about all the close calls?â you ask, your voice quiet but teasing.
Aaronâs lips twitch in amusement. âAll the time. Like that day you got hurt in the field.â
You know exactly which day he means. Itâs burned into your memory as much as his. âYou mean when I dislocated my shoulder chasing that suspect?â
He nods, his tone softening. âI remember standing over you, trying to keep it together while the EMTs worked. I wanted to pick you up and carry you to the ambulance myself, but I couldnât. All I could do was stay professional and keep my voice steady.â
You smile faintly, your heart tightening at the memory. âI remember how calm you sounded, even though I could see it in your eyes. You hated every second of it.â
Aaron glances at you briefly, his eyes filled with something deeper. âIt was one of the hardest things Iâve ever done. Morgan even asked me later why I seemed so shaken. I had to play it off as just another day in the field.â
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. âWell, you were convincing enough. I think I was more worried about you slipping than about my shoulder.â
He lets out a low chuckle, his focus on the road. âThat wasnât the only close call. Remember Kansas City? The hotel?â
âOh God,â you groan, covering your face with one hand. âI thought for sure Morgan would figure it out. He knocked on my door right after you left.â
Aaron smirks, glancing at you briefly. âWhat did you tell him?â
âI said I was up late working on the profile,â you reply, grinning. âWhich wasnât a lie, technically. I just left out the part where you were with me.â
Aaron shakes his head, amusement glinting in his dark eyes. âHow about all the times we shared a room and no one noticed?â
You laugh, sinking back into your seat. âThat was a miracle. Every single time. Can you imagine if anyone went looking for you in your empty room?âÂ
âOr walked past at the wrong moment,â Aaron adds, his voice tinged with humor. âI canât believe we managed to pull that off.â
You grin at him, your tone teasing. âWe probably wasted so much of the Bureauâs money on extra rooms we didnât need.â
His lips twitch into a smirk. âI think weâve earned it, considering the hours weâve put in.â
You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. âStill, we were playing with fire. Like that time Rossi knocked on your door in Denver. I thought for sure heâd notice something.â
Aaron chuckles, his tone more amused now. âRossi always noticed. He just didnât say anything.â
âProbably because he enjoyed watching everyone else flounder,â you reply with a grin. âHe was always a little too smug.â
The car falls into a comfortable silence as the memories wash over you bothâthe near-misses, the stolen moments, the countless times you had to act like nothing more than colleagues. Now, with the secrecy behind you, the memories feel more like a badge of honor than a burden.
Aaron pulls into the driveway, turning off the engine before glancing at you. His expression is soft, his voice quieter now. âNo more sneaking around,â he says. âNo more separate cars or extra rooms.â
You smile, reaching for his hand. âJust us.â
The two of you walk inside, your home warm and inviting as you settle in for the night. The conversation drifts back to the little things you had to do to keep your relationship under wrapsâthe cover stories, the excuses, the times you almost slipped. But the laughter and warmth you share now make it all worth it.
As the night deepens, you both revel in the freedom of no longer having to hide. Itâs just you and Aaron, building the life youâve always wanted⌠with Jackâtogether, out in the open, and exactly as it should be.
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His Lady Love (6)
pairing | aemond targaryen x vampire!mikaelson!reader taglist | to be added to the taglist just add your username to this DOC word count | 6.3k words summary | all I'm gonna say is blood and cheese. tags | death, angst/comfort, vampire powers, blood (lots and lots of blood), trauma? aemond and reader can't keep their hands off each other, reader don't play when it comes to helaena, canon divergence note | i still haven't gotten over blood and cheese and phia saban's phenomenal acting in that episode. why is there so many oc fics in the aemond x reader tag (no hate). also contemplating writing for loki and oswald cobblepot (penguin in gotham)
likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated â¨
đđŤđđŻđ˘đ¨đŽđŹ đđĄđđŠđđđŤ - đđđŹđđđŤđĽđ˘đŹđ - đđđąđ đđĄđđŠđđđŤ
âI am happy that my mother has let you become my lady-in-waiting,â Helaena murmured, her voice lilting like a gentle breeze.
âAs am I, Princess-â you paused before correcting yourself, âMy Queenâthe presence of the children brings me much comfort.â
âThey eagerly anticipate your visits each day,â Helaena replied with a softness in her gaze that seemed to light the room.
Seated beside the young prince Jaehaera and Jaehaerys, whose precocious spirit was beginning to shine, you cast a fond glance at Jaehaerys, who was determinedly practicing his High Valyrian. Leaning closer, you offered him an encouraging smile, âWhat does this mean, Jaehaerys?â
It had taken some time for your bond with the young prince to flourish. Unlike his sister, who was as lively and eager as a summerâs day, Jaehaerys was quieter, more contemplative. Yet, you noticed that now whenever you attended to your duties for Helaena, while Jaehaera would chatter your ear off cheerfully, her twin would subtly gravitate toward you, seeking comfort as you played delicately with his soft, silver hair.
âPerâperzis ano...anogor?â he stammered, his timid voice breaking the air with a hint of uncertainty.
You couldnât help but inwardly smile at his effort; the correct pronunciation was âPerzys Anogar.â After five years spent in the sun-kissed lands of Essos, you had perfected the various dialects of High Valyrian to perfection. Yet, your encouragement for the young prince remained unwavering. At just four years old, his intelligence astounded you. âVery good, my sweet prince. And what does it mean?â
âFire and blood!â Jaehaera exclaimed with unrestrained enthusiasm, hastening to answer before her brother could. Her eyes sparkled with delight, clearly eager to capture your full attention. Jaehaerys shot her a sidelong glance, his lips pressed together in a playful pout, while you directed your gaze to Jaehaera with admiration. âWell done, dear princess.â
"My Queen," came a maid's voice, cutting through the tranquil atmosphere of Helaena's solar. Both you and Helaena shifted your gaze, "Prince Jaehaerys is summoned for his lesson with the Maester."
Helaena, who sat gracefully upon a pile of richly embroidered cushions, her needlework perched delicately in her lap, regarded her son with a tender smile, her serene demeanor offering him encouragement. "Off you go, Jaehaerys," she urged softly.
The small prince nodded earnestly. Before following the maid through the heavy wooden doors he turned to offer you a shy wave, a glimpse of the warmth that sparked beneath his young exterior. As the sound of his footsteps faded into silence, you turned your focus back to Princess Jaehaera, who was nestled in a nearby chair, fixated on the pages of a book filled with tales of dragons and valor, Jaehaerys had been reading. After awhile, your attention shifted as the sound of eager footsteps resonated through Helaenaâs solar. You turned to see Aegon striding purposefully toward you and Jaehaera.
"Lady Mikaelson," he acknowledged with a courteous nod, his gaze lingering upon you for an unsettling moment, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine before he redirected his focus to Jaehaera.
âWhere is Jaehaerys?â Aegon inquired, a frown settling deeply between his brows, betraying his impatience.
Helaenaâs voice was soft as a whisper, yet it held a steady resolve. âAttending his lessons.â
âAnd those are where?â Aegon pressed, a hint of mockery threading through his tone, forcing back the urge to scoff at his impatience.
Helaena sighed, a delicate sound that barely pierced the air. âWhat do you need of him?â
Aegonâs lips thinned, âTaking him to the small council,â he announced, straightening his back with lots of fervor, âHe'll be king one day, he must begin his instruction.â
With an eye roll barely concealed, you turned to braid Jaehaera's sweet, silver locks, weaving strands as your thoughts tangled around Aegonâs words. Helaenaâs brow furrowed slightly, and you caught the hesitation in her voice. âWhat if he does not wish to be king?â
Aegonâs huff echoed in the chamber, annoyed, as he leaned closer, palms pressing against his knees. âWhere is he?â
âIn the library,â Helaena replied, her tone tinged with reluctance. âBut you must not disturb his custom.â
Aegon, ever dismissive, shrugged off her words and stepped toward the door. Yet he halted when Helaena's voice pierced the silence once more, "I am afraid."
He pivoted on his heel, regarding her with feigned nonchalance. "Don't be. They'd be fools to come with Vhagar protecting the city."
"Not the dragons," Helaena murmured, her gaze dropping to the cold stone floor. "The rats."
Aegon, along with the attendants, followed her gaze, their eyes scanning for any signs of the vermin that might lurk in the shadows.
"The queen is an enduring mystery," Aegon declared, casting a mocking glance at Helaena. "Is she not?"
With that, he departed, leaving a chill in the air. As soon as he crossed the threshold, you rose from your seat and moved to Helaenaâs side, offering her a warm smile. "You need not fear the rats; the castle is filled with rat catchers."
Helaenaâs frown deepened, her troubled lilac eyes meeting yours as she whispered with conviction, "That is what terrifies me."
Words escaped you, for you understood that Helaena possessed knowledge beyond the grasp of ordinary folkâtruths unacknowledged and often dismissed. Instead of voicing your confusion and uncertainty, you simply clasped her hand in yours, offering the silent comfort.
Your gaze shifted, drawn by the soft, deliberate sound of footsteps as they echoed through the confines of Helaena's solar. As you looked up, your heart raced, a rhythmic thudding that quickened with warmth flooding your cheeks and fluttering butterflies stirring restlessly in your stomach. Aemond strode through the door, an unmistakable presence that demanded attention.
It was true what you'd confided to him: you were still a maiden. A maiden, after five centuries of vampiric existence, because how could you interact with any man when Nikaus, Elijah, and Kol perpetually cast watchful shadows over your every move. You recalled a particular moment in 1001 AD, when a reckless infatuation with Tristan de Martel had nearly led you to surrender your maidenhood, only to be halted by Finnâs stern interventionâa chastisement you still felt the sting of.
But Aemond was different. His presence was a siren's call, compelling and irresistible. You had lost yourself in the depths of his gaze, willingly surrendering to the passion that enveloped you, and you never wished to escape the intoxicating spell he wove around you. The ecstasy of your lovemaking had been a revelation, a visceral experience you had never dreamed possible. Despite your initial attempts to keep a distance, Aemond's determination had eroded every barrier you'd erected, and then, as you laid in the warm afterglow of those stolen moments, regret was a distant memory.
In that act, surrounded by pleasure, Aemond had awakened a sense of aliveness within you that you had not felt since you had died. His touch and words made you feel cherished, lovedâdeep down, you had longed for this connection. Mere days had passed since you had shared that intimate bond, yet every time your eyes met his, unbidden warmth flushed your cheeks anew.
He lingered his gaze on you for what felt like an eternity, an unspoken connection hanging heavily in the air, before directing his attention to Helaena. "Sister," he began, his tone both respectful and confident, "might I steal a moment of Lady Mikaelson's time?"
Helaena glanced between you and Aemond, a subtle spark of understanding dancing in her eyes as she nodded, a gentle smile touching her lips. "Of course, brother."
Rising slowly from your seat, you were acutely aware of the curious gazes from the other ladies in the room. Yet, before you could fully separate yourself from Helaena's side, her hand shot out, delicately grasping your wrist. "Will you come to bid Jaehaerys goodnight before you retire?" Helaena's voice slipped through the air like a delicate melody, inviting yet tinged with uncertainty.
You offered a reassuring nod, your voice soft and warm. "Of course, My Queen."
With that, you turned to Aemond, his patience evident as he awaited your move. As you stepped into the dimly lit corridor, the sound of his footsteps fell steadily in rhythm with yours. Once you had retreated far enough from the safety of Helaena's chambers, you paused and turned to him, your voice laced with curiosity, âWhat did you wish toââ
Before you could finish your sentence, Aemond's hands cradled your face, pulling you into an unexpected kiss. Surprise rippled through you, manifesting in a soft gasp, but you quickly surrendered to the moment, your lips responding to his with eager warmth. An exhilarating pulse of intimacy washed over you as you opened your mouth, inviting the dance of his tongue with yours, a sweet entanglement that momentarily erased the world around you.
When at last Aemond broke the kiss, his breath came heavy and laden with unspoken emotions, and he pressed his forehead against yours, that mischievous violet eye glinting with resolve. "I plan to go to the small council to announce our betrothal."
Your breath caught in surprise as you took a small step back, trying to comprehend his words. âBetrothal?â The weight of his intentions settled heavily on your heart.
A marriage with him would be folly; he was a prince, destined for heirs and an aging legacy, while youâa vampireâwould remain eternally youthfully beautiful, bound to a dead womb. Yet his audacity ignited a spark of indignation in you, prompting a petulant response, âAemond, you didnât even ask me.â
A small, infuriating smirk played upon his lips, a faint acknowledgment of your protest. âWill you marry me then?â
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly. âHow very romantic of you.â The gravity of the moment drew your expression into something more serious as you continued, âAemond, we are bracing ourselves for warâplanning a wedding now would be utterly misplaced.â
âIt will be a beacon of hope for the smallfolk,â he argued earnestly, the conviction in his voice palpable.
"At the cost of the kingdomâs coin," you countered sharply, your voice laden with reality.
He dismissed your worries with a wave of his hand, as though to sweep away the logic. âThen weâll have something modestââ
âAemond,â you chided softly, lifting your hands to cradle his chiseled face. At your delicate touch, he fell silent, his fierce demeanor momentarily quelled. Deep down, you were acutely aware that his determination to wed you would remain unyielding. In a bid to find common ground you decided to offer an empty concession, âLet us marry after the war.â
His solitary violet eye bore into yours, piercing deeper as if seeking to unravel the very essence of your soul. "You swear it," he demanded, his voice a low thrum of intensity.
Inside, a tumult stirred; 'No,' your thoughts whispered, for you could not predict the war's course. The Iron Throne rightfully belonged to Rhaenyra, and the Blacks appeared poised to triumph. Yet, your heart was tethered to the Greens, bound by an affection that defied reason. The weight of it all threatened to crush you, leading you to contemplate escape back to your world, to your familyâa choice that would certainly bring Niklaus's wrath upon you.
But with a deep breath, you embraced the moment, nodding serenely as you wove your words into a gentle lie. "I swear it."
Aemond's gaze lingered in your eyes, a moment stretched between you like the fragile threads of fate. As he nodded, a wave of relief washed over you, warm and undeniable. Yet, as if sealing your pact, his lips found yours once more, igniting a tempest within your heart. The weight of your deception pressed heavily upon you, yet you surrendered to the solace of his kiss, seeking refuge in its intoxication.
The kiss deepened, evolving into something more fervent, as Aemond gently ushered you backward until your back met the cold stone wall. His tongue danced with yours, a fierce desire eclipsing the trepidation that lingered in your mind, as if he sought to claim not merely your lips but your very essence.
A sudden noise pricked at your senses, the swift approach of footsteps echoing through the hallway. In a flurry of instinct, you pushed Aemond away just as a servant passed by. The servantâs gaze flicked towards you, then promptly fell to the ground, yet you could almost feel the unspoken thoughts swirling in their mind. A shiver of apprehension ran through you; you knew whispers would soon scatter among the servants like leaves in the wind.
As the footsteps faded into the distance, Aemond clasped your hands, his grip a mix of desperation and longing. "I yearn to be with you again," he mused, his voice a low rumble that resonated deep within your core.
"I feel the same," you replied softly, bringing his hands to your lips in a tender gesture, savoring the skin you coveted.
Alas, the moment was fleeting, as the sound of hurried footfalls approached again prompting the two of you to separate once more. Aemond exhaled, a hint of irritation lacing his tone. "And yet, in this castle, we are forever denied our privacy."
You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. "What do you propose?"
He paused, a flicker of hesitation in his gaze, before his lips parted to reveal his audacious suggestion. "The Street of Silk."
"Aemondâ" you interjected, surprise and concern overtaking your thoughts.
"Calm yourself," he urged, his hands finding their way to your waist, drawing you closer, the warmth of his body burning away your reservations. "We would seek only a room, nothing more. A night enveloped in our own secret, away from prying eyes."
A hesitant sigh escaped your lips, your heart fluttering at the prospect yet tethered by caution. "Aemond."
In a tender gesture, he kissed your forehead, followed by soft pecks on your cheeks, then lingered with his lips brushing against yours. It was pathetic how quickly you melted under his affection, yearning for the contact that ignited a fire within you. His voice, barely above a whisper, danced against your lips, "Tonight?"
With a surrender that surprised even yourself, you acquiesced. "Alright." His eye sparkled with triumph as he finally pressed his lips against yours, granting you the sweetness you craved.
Yet, he broke away, his breath mingling with yours. "I shall meet you at your chambersâ"
"No," you countered softly, concern lacing your words. "It would be dangerous for us to be seen leaving the castle together."
He regarded you with a stern expression, a protective glimmer in his eye as he shook his head. "Fleabottom is no place for a lady to wander alone."
You smiled gently at his earnestness, reassured him with conviction, "Iâll be fine, Aemond. I promise."
With a resigned sigh from you, he leaned in to steal another kiss, the taste of his resolve lingering. "Then it is settled. Meet me at the Blue Pearl tonight."
âI will,â you vowed, your mind clouded by the intoxicating pull of his presence, rational thought slipping away like sand through fingers.
The Keep lay shrouded in an eerie silence as you stepped into the dimly lit corridor from your chambers. The air was thick with an unsettling stillness, as if the very walls held their breath, rendering the castle a hollow shell. With purpose, you made your way toward the Queenâs chambers, determined to fulfill your promise to Helaena and bid the twins a gentle goodnight.
You wrapped your cloak tightly around your shoulders, bracing against the biting winds that swept through the stone hallways. A sense of foreboding clawed at your thoughts, quickening your steps as you approached Helaena's solar.
As you neared her chambers, the quiet was shattered by a pained whimperâa sound that sent a chill racing down your spine. Without hesitation, you pushed through the door, only to freeze in shock at the scene before you. A filthy man loomed over Helaena, his grip merciless as he held a knife to her delicate throat. The metallic scent of her blood hung heavy in the air, as you noticed a small nick on her neck.
Your instincts flared to life, propelling you forward to confront the intruder. But before you could move, strong arms encircled you, halting your advance. "Who the fuck is she?" the brute growled, his gaze locked onto the man who held Helaena captive.
âSheâs the queen she is,â the crazed man replied, a sickly laugh escaping his lips, his gaze dancing between you and Helaena, relishing the chaos.
âA son for a son, he said,â came the rough retort of the man holding you, his grip tightening like a vice. âDoes she look like a fucking son to you?â
The realization struck you like a bolt of lightningârevenge. These madmen had been sent by the Blacks, likely by Daemon himself, to claim a son in return for Lucerys Valaryon.
Pointing with a blood-stained finger, the deranged man holding Helaena, gestured to the cribs across the room, where Jaehaerys and Jaehaera lay asleep, vulnerable to the whims of fate. âOver there,â he sneered, a glint of madness flashing across his eyes.
A chilling wave of nausea washed over you as dread seeped into your heart, realizing the intent behind his actions. Yet, even with the unfathomable power you possessed, you hesitated. You could kill these men in mere moments, reduce them to shredded pieces, but the fear in Helaenaâs wide eyes anchored you. You could not afford to frighten her further.
âRelease her,â you commanded, your tone a blend of authority and menace, ever mindful of the trembling figure of the queen. âYou do not know the darkness you invite with your intentionsâ
The grip of the man holding you tightened, his fingers like iron shackles, deaf to your words. Instead, the madman holding Helaena chortled, an unsettling sound that grated against your nerves. "We need to get our head and get out."
A simmering rage ignited within you at his vile insinuation, your voice turning low and menacing as you retorted, "If you dare imply what I think, know that your life shall end before you can ever look upon the prince."
The large brute, his bulk a grotesque parody of strength, pressed his clammy hand against your throat, constricting it as he growled, "Shut your fucking mouth, woman."
In that chilling moment, Helaena found her voice, her eyes wide with terror as they darted between you and the manâs tightening grasp. "I have a necklace," she stammered, her heart echoing her fear, "It's of great value."
The man holding you scoffed, his eyes narrowing with disdain. "Thatâs not a son."
His grip tightened further, but to you, it was nothing more than the grasp of a mere mortal, a fleeting nuisance. With an air of fatalistic calm, you shrugged, âIâve warned you, and now you shall reap the consequences.â
As the darkness of your true nature surged, crimson flames ignited in your gaze. Veins suffused with blood snaked under your skin and the sharp glint of fangs elongated in exquisite hunger. The man holding Helaena faltered, the smile that once adorned his lips vanished, replaced by a primal terror as he regarded you. âWhatâsâwhatâs happening to your face?!â
Confusion roiled in the eyes of the man who had once held your throat captive. Before he could fully comprehend the depths of his error, you moved with the swiftness of a striking snake, your head whipping around as you buried your fangs deep into his pallid flesh. His scream reverberated like a death knell against the stone.
With one fierce tug, you tore into himâa vicious rip that sent a warm spray of blood cascading over your face, painting your features in hues of crimson. The bruteâs body slackened, his grip fading as life bled from him like the night fleeing before dawn. He crumpled to the ground dead.
Your attention shifted, a predatory glare now focused on the other man, who quivered holding Helaena securely but fearfully at knifepoint. His confidence wavered as your fury ignited the air around you, and he stepped back, terror threading his voice, âIf you come any closer, I swear Iâll kill herââ
In a heartbeat, you were before him. Your eyes cooled to an earthly hue, compelling yet cold, as your voice held the weight of your compulsion. âStep away from the queen."
The resolve in his eyes shattered, obedience taking root as he released Helaena, fear transforming into a savage obedience. But that was not enough; oh no, they would pay dearly for their actions. You stepped closer, lowering your voice to a whisper laced with venom. âNow⌠stick your knife in your throat.â
Tears cascaded down his cheeks, streaming with unspoken horror as he felt the weight of your will. Whimpering like a child at the mercy of a storm, he struggled against the compulsion, but your magic throbbed through the air, binding him tighter within your grasp. The dagger trembled in his hand before the metal found flesh, cutting deeply as crimson blessing spilled forth. He gasped, choking as despair overwhelmed him, stabbing again and again until his last breath escaped into the silence of the room, and dropped to the ground.
In the wake of such violence, as blood pooled and splattered across the cold floor, your features softened, the fierce gleam fading from your visage. Your fangs retracted, and your eyes reverted to their natural colour, the monstrous visage slipping away like a shadow at dawn.
A tumult of emotions swirled within youâfear, regretâuntil your gaze flicked to Helaena, ready to face the disgust you expected. Yet, as her eyes met yours, confusion twisted within you; there was no horror, no disgust in her gazeâonly a profound relief.
You took a hesitant step back, bewildered by her calm demeanor. "Are you not afraid of me?" you questioned, your voice barely above a whisper.
Her brow furrowed in genuine confusion as she softly said, âYou saved us."
You realized she might be still grappling with the shock, as she drifted across the room, her movements fluid and deliberate. She bypassed the gruesome scene left in your wake, retrieving a handkerchief with an unsettling nonchalance. Approaching you with a tender resolve, she reached forth, seeking to wipe the blood from your face. Her touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the brutality that had just unfolded.
Yet, as the fabric of her care swept across your skin, your brow furrowed at the sight of tears beginning to brim in Helaena's eyes. âHelaenaâwhat's wrong?â you implored, clasping her trembling hands firmly within yours. âYou need not fear; all is well now, you are safe.â
Her tears continued to spill softly, tracing delicate paths down her pale cheeks, as she whispered in a voice that seemed to drift like a dream, âI thought I was lost in one of my dreams. I did not realize it was the truth laid bare before me.â
âIt was,â you replied gently, your voice a quiet promise. âBut it is over now.â
âIf you had not been here, Jaehaerys would beââ she faltered, her composure cracking as a choked sob escaped her lips.
You could only watch her, sorrow etched upon your face, as she turned away from you and hurried to the crib where Jaehaerys slept, oblivious to the tempest that had transpired around him and his sister. Slowly, she lifted the sleeping boy into her arms, his silver hair catching the light like stars against the night sky. She cradled him tightly, swaying gently as if to soothe not just him, but the remnants of her own grief.
âThey almost took my boy,â Helaena murmured, her voice a soft lament, entwined within the strands of Jaehaerysâ hair, as if she sought comfort in his very existence.
Aemond exhaled sharply as he finally approached the entrance of the Blue Pearl, its facade gleaming with a deceptive allure. He paused for a moment, memories swirling like smoke from the incense withinâeach recollection a weight pressing down upon him, reminding him of the last time he had stepped through these doors.
As he crossed the threshold into the brothel, the atmosphere assaulted his senses: the heady scent of incense mingled with the intoxicating sounds of fervent moans and whispered promises that echoed through the dimly lit chambers. The air was thick with a palpable energy, a collision of desire and desperation.
Maintaining a cold and stoic demeanor, Aemond navigated the labyrinth of shadowy corners and silken drapes, his singular focus on securing a room where you both could retreat from the burdens of the outside world, if only for a fleeting night. Under the enveloping darkness of his hooded cloak, he radiated an aura of menace; others instinctively parted before him, quaking under the weight of his dangerous glare.
However, his composure faltered for just a moment when he felt a delicate hand brush against his arm. A surge of indignation coursed through him, instincts honed to ready his strike against anyone who dared encroach upon his spaceâanyone, that is, who was not you.
Yet, upon turning, he found himself face to face with the last person he wished to encounter. Madam Sylvi, the proprietor of this establishment, stood before him, her presence a haunting reminder of a past he had sought to forget. She was the first woman to lay claim to him, a forced initiation into a world of shadows that had snatched away his boyhood, all at the insidious urging of his brother. Aemond's heart raced, caught between the clutches of anger and the bitter taste of old wounds that threatened to resurface.
"My Prince," she began, her lips curving into what she believed to be a beguiling smile. To Aemond, however, it appeared more akin to a grimace painted upon her features. "What an unexpected pleasure it is to see you once again in these halls."
Feeling a tide of shame wash over him, he averted his gaze, staring intently at the carved wooden floor beneath his feet. âAll I seek is a room,â he muttered, his voice barely a whisper.
"And which girl shall I send to warm your bed?" she teased, her tone dripping with seduction. Then, with a coy pause, she added, "Or perhaps you are in need of a woman instead?"
He clenched his jaw, his frustration rising. âJust a room,â he insisted, his voice firm, yet faltering.
She let out a soft, lilting hum, feigning disappointment. âA shame,â she purred, her fingers trailing along his armâa gesture that made his skin crawl. âBut know that my arms are always open, especially for you.â
The urge to retaliate surged within him; he imagined the swift, savage justice he could enact. Yet, he found himself rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the memory of their past encountersâmemories that danced like shadows in his mind, haunting him still.
Clearing his throat, he risked a glance in her direction, his resolve strengthening. âA Lady will come through your doors. Instruct her where to find me.â
With that, he turned on his heel, striding away before she could utter another word.
Not long after, five figures had made their way into Helaena's solar, their presence a stark contrast to the brutality that had enveloped the chamber moments before. A maid, having spotted one of the trespassers who had slipped into the shadows, acted on her apprehension and sought out a guard.
This led to Lord Otto Hightower being summoned, and he, it seemed, was the sole soul present who maintained the decorum expected of his station. He had seized Aegon with the kind of authoritative grip one might use on a mischievous pup caught reveling in intoxication on the Iron Throne, before promptly calling for Lord Larys.
In due course, Queen Alicent and Ser Criston appeared, ostensibly by chance, though you with your keen senses could detect the unmistakable scent of their shared intimacy lingering upon them, a confirmation of their clandestine liaison.
You sat beside Helaena, who cradled Jaehaerys to her chest as if to shield him from the undercurrents of chaos swirling around them. In your arms, you held Jaehaera, both twins blissfully unaware, lost in the serenity of slumber.
âWho dared to do this? I demand to know! Who is responsible?â Aegon's voice erupted, slicing through the stillness with an edge of fury. News of the attempted assassination against his son had ignited the embers of his inebriated stupor into a roaring blaze of rage. You cast him a disapproving glare, a silent rebuke for his outburst, mindful of the slumbering children.
âThe man uttered, âa son for a son, he said,â I suspect he was referring to Prince Daemon, Your Grace,â you interjected softly, your voice a steady balm amidst the tumult.
Alicent, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, approached Helaena, settling beside her. She reached out tenderly, her fingers brushing against the peaceful features of sleeping Jaehaerys, you could see how guilt was feasting upon her soul.
"These villains, these traitors," Aegon spat, his words laced with venom. The anguish of nearly losing his heir carved lines of distress into his face, revealing that beneath the hardened exterior, perhaps Aegon did possess a heart capable of love. "My son is my legacy. My son is heir to the iron throne!â
His gaze then turned, sharp and accusatory, to Ser Criston, whose presence loomed in the doorway. "And where were you, Ser Criston? The Lord Commander of my King's Guard slumbers while my blood is threatened?"
You noted how Alicentâs expression tightened with concern as she cast a furtive glance toward Criston, who stared resolutely at the stone floor, his shame palpable. "I was abed, Your Grace, having dispatched orders to the Night's Watch," he replied.
"Abed?" Aegon echoed, incredulity lacing his words. "While your post was to safeguard the sanctity of my family?"
The Hand let out a weary sigh from his position at the periphery of the room. "Calm yourself, Aegon. The prince still lives," he interjected, attempting to quell the rising tide of tension.
"Yes," Aegon yelled, his attention shifting to you, "only because of Lady Mikaelson. A woman! All of you should hang your heads in shame."
You inhaled sharply at Aegon's jab, which he unknowingly let out. Lord Larys, his gaze insidious and lingering, leaned forward with a slithering curiosity. "What I truly wish to understand is how you managed to subdue two fully grown men, my lady."
The weight of every gaze in the room now turned to you, even Aegon momentarily relinquished his tirade to await your reply. You spoke with steady conviction, "I grew up among five brothers, My Lord. The dance of a blade is not foreign to me." Your voice joined the whispers of the past, your eyes glancing at the first man you had killed. "The first was a brute, slow in his approach. The second, however, was a madman, blinded by insanity."
"It matters not how she accomplished it," Aegon interjected, his impatience barely concealed, "The only thing that matters is she saved Jaehaerys' life."
A wave of relief washed over you as the next figure entered Helaena's solar, a dim light spilling in from the hallway. Aemond's gaze instantly locked onto the grim scene before him, his single eye widening as it fell upon the two lifeless bodies, bloodied and sprawled across the elegant stone floor. âWhat has happened here?â he demanded.
Aegon's temper flared like wildfire at the sight, stepping forward to confront Aemond, but the latter remained unruffled, his expression a picture of cool composure amidst the turmoil. âAnd where were you, while my son lay nearly murdered in his own bed?â
âOn patrol, brother,â Aemond replied, his tone smooth and casual, though the lie dripped with an unsettling ease. His eyes then landed on you, his brow furrowing as concern flickered across his striking features. Ignoring Aegon entirely, he approached you, noting the streaks of crimson marring your skin. âAre you hurt?â he asked, his voice softening.
As his hand reached towards your face, you instinctively recoiled, acutely aware of the watchful eyes surrounding you both. âIt is not my blood, Your Highness,â you assured him.
Aegon's voice roared again, filling the solar like a tempest. âWhat course shall we take now? How do we retaliate?â His frustration echoed off the walls.
You could hear Otto Hightowerâs resigned sigh. âThis is not a moment for rash vengeance, Aegon. Perhaps there is some good may yet come of this.â
âI will not be seen as weak,â Aegon ground out, determination hardening his features.
âYouâre already seen as weak, Aegon,â Otto replied with cold clarity, counting off each grim incident, âA hasty coronation, a dragon escaping the pit. The people see an omen. They whisper in the streets. They say, perhaps Rhaenyra should be queen.â
"Let us thus feign that the deed is done, that her assassination was successful." He paused, his keen gaze settling upon the slumbering form of little Jaehaerys. âYou would name her: monster. Slayer of infants. I would do more than thatâa funeral procession. We shall construct a small casket for Jaehaerys and let the realm gaze upon the handiwork of this pretender who seeks the crown.â
âYour grand design has a singular flaw, Grandsire,â Aegon spat, stepping protectively in front of Helaena and the sleeping child, his posture defiant. âJaehaerys lives. His existence cannot be kept hidden within these stone walls; word of his survival will soon seep through the cracks.â
âNot if we send him awayâthis very night,â Otto replied, his voice resolute, a calculated glint igniting his gaze.
âNo,â Helaena murmured, instinctively tightening her embrace around Jaehaerys, as if her warmth alone could shield him from danger.
âNo!â Aegon echoed, his tone thunderous compared to Helaenaâs whisper. âIt is far too dangerous for him beyond these castle walls.â
âAnd yet,â Lord Hightower replied, his tone sharp as a dagger, âhe came dangerously close to death even within them.â
âThen where shall he go?â Alicent broke her silence, her voice carrying the weight of desperation.
The Lord Hand fell silent, his brow furrowed in contemplation, before his keen gaze shifted toward you. âLady Mikaelson,â he began, a shrewd glint of ambition glimmering in his eyes, âyour family resides in the Reach, do they not?â
"Indeed, Lord Hand," you replied smoothly, a lie slipping from your lips with practiced ease. You anticipated his intentions even before he continued. "We lie just beyond Golden Grove."
âAh, that lies near Highgarden,â Otto mused, his mind racing with possibilities before breaking the stillness of the room, âThe Tyrells have pledged neutrality, rendering it one of the scant havens in all of Westeros. Thus, it is decided: Jaehaerys shall journey there with Lady Mikaelson tonight. She has protected Jaehaerys once and now she will do so again.â
Aegon, his fingers brushing through Jaehaerys's soft curls as he rested, sighed in reluctant agreement. "Very well, but I demand that half of the White Cloaks accompany them."
Otto scoffed derisively, shaking his head. "No, such a show of force would raise too many suspicions. We can spare only two, perhaps four at the most."
"It would be swifter and safer by dragonback," Aemond interjected, his voice threading through the tension in the room. You turned to meet his gaze, which seemed to be focused only on you, "I can take Lady Mikaelson and Jaehaerys upon Vhagar."
Otto Hightowerâs brow furrowed in disapproval. "That would be far too conspicuous."
âThen I shall accompany them,â Aemond asserted, his determination hardening like steel.
"No," Aegon countered firmly, his tone brooking no dissent. "We need you here."
Before Aemond could mount another argument, you rose from your seat, gently moving the sleeping Jaehaera into Alicent's waiting arms. Your voice rang out, steady and resolute amidst the rising tempests of conflict. âIt is alright," you spoke clearly, âI will go.â
If Aemond ever met the Mikaelsons...
Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(
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The Price of Pride (10/?)
[ canon ⢠Aemond x Royce ⢠female ]
[ warnings: loss of virginity, dubcon, sex content, unprotected sex, oral sex, targcest stuff, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence ]
[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters:Â Masterlist
_____
"Where are you?" She asked, looking down at the large family tree spread out in front of her face, lying comfortably between his legs, leaning against his hard torso. They were both bare; to her surprise, she quickly got rid of the feeling of embarrassment when he exposed her body.
The evenings in King's Landing were hot, so they were both relieved to be lying in the cool evening breeze on his bed, the back of her head resting against his shoulder. She heard him hum under his breath as he pointed his finger at one of the last lines which, indeed, was signed with his name.
Aemond Targaryen.
"And you are here." He added, moving his finger sideways to another line.
"Unbelievable." She said surprised, feeling for some reason joy and pride that she was included in this great lineage, somehow thinking that since her father had forgotten her, so had everyone else.
"You are a Targaryen. This is your heritage as well." He said lightly, leaning in, his full lips placing a soft, gentle kiss on her bare shoulder.
She swallowed hard, feeling pain at his words.
"My father would disagree with you." She said regretfully, tracing a line with her finger down from herself, to her father, to his father, and then to his grandfather.
She blinked, seeing that almost every one of them had married their sisters.
"Good gods." She muttered, going lower and lower, seeing that the pattern repeated surprisingly often.
She heard him chuckle behind her, his arms embracing her tighter around the waist.
"Brothers love their sisters. It's natural." He murmured, the tip of his long nose sinking into her soft cheek, his free hand slowly rising higher to squeeze her plump bosom.
He loved touching and looking at her breasts â his hands and mouth kept returning to them. He wouldn't let her cover them in his presence â they were clearly the most perfect example of femininity to him.
Their shape, their softness, the way they melted between his fingers in the morning when they slept in each other's embrace and he involuntarily sought them out with his hand made him purr like a cat.
She was also involuntarily learning other things that he clearly enjoyed with each passing day, though he never spoke of it aloud.
When they were outside, he liked her hair to be braided the way Visenya wore it according to legends, when her body was framed by a riding, leather garment, emphasising her girlish curves.
It stimulated his imagination, but also gave him a sense of closeness by the fact that they looked so similar.
As long as they were among other people, she never approached him or spoke to him first â even when she was practicing archery in the same courtyard where he and Criston Cole were sparring, she didn't disturb them.
She knew he didn't wish it â the example of Lady Floris had shown her what happened when someone kept invading his space and forced him into a proximity he wasn't comfortable with.
She felt his gaze on her, saw in his healthy eye that he was thinking only of what he had done to her during the night and what he would do to her in the evening, that he would summon her again, unable to deny himself the warmth of her body in his bed.
The situation changed completely when she crossed the threshold of his chamber and they were left alone behind a closed door.
He liked to sink his hands into her curls, so her hair had to be loose, on her body only her nightgown and a thin robe â he knew that no one but him had ever seen her in such a negligee, slowly slipping off all parts of her attire, leaving her bare and exposed at last.
It wasn't long before he was joining her, though then he was always vigilant and tense â most notably when she pulled off his eye patch. He watched her then with a stony face, as if for some reason he was afraid to see a smirk of mockery or anything else that would be proof that she was deceiving him, she, however, was entranced by the beautiful blue sapphire shining in his eye socket in the candlelight.
She loved untying the black ribbon from his long white hair.
"â you look like a demigod â" She whispered once without thinking as they lay side by side on his bed, looking at each other, panting heavily after their intense closeness.
She saw that he froze, his eye grew large in disbelief, his lips pressed into a thin line in shame.
"â what do you mean? â" He asked, lying on the bedclothes on his stomach as she did, their heads lying so close together that their noses were almost touching.
She lifted her hand and combed gently through strands of his smooth hair.
"â when your beautiful snow-white hair is loose â you look like some kind of heavenly being with your bright eyes â your face and muscular figure remind me of sculptures of ancient warriors carved in marble â" She muttered in shame, wondering what had occurred to her to say such a thing, her fingers ran over his cheekbone, her gaze fixed on his jaw.
She heard him swallow loudly, looking at her in a way she rarely saw, only when he was surprised and completely vulnerable â his pupil was large, his gaze warm, his expression gentle, his full lips parted slightly in disbelief.
She moved closer to him and cuddled her face into his shoulder, feeling like a fool after what she had said, thinking that he must surely have felt embarrassment at her words, that he would never let her stay in his bed again.
He, however, embraced her and snuggled her into his body, stroking her soft dark curls, her back and her buttocks with his broad hands, gently kissing the top of her head again and again.
He answered her nothing, but that night he did not allow her body to move away from his even a little, keeping her locked in his embrace â she smiled involuntarily feeling that each time he awoke he checked that she was covered in fur and brushed her shoulder with his fingertips, returning to sleep.
Although she had to get through the thick, high wall he had created around his heart each evening, their mornings were sweet and tender.
She was always awakened by the touch of his soft, moist lips on her forehead, his thumb stroking her cheek, his warm breath indicating that he had been awake for some time but wasn't going to get up for a while yet, wanting to enjoy her closeness.
"â hÄedar â" He murmured at last, running his hand down her bare back, gliding his fingers as if he were treading water with them.
"â no â just a little longer â" She whispered pleadingly, and he merely hummed under his breath and cuddled her tighter into his chest, allowing her to remain in his embrace.
She usually left before the servants brought him his morning meal â she knew that he would probably let her eat with him if she so wished, it even seemed to her that a part of him would enjoy it, however, she did not want to cross the line.
There was more gossip about them than both of them would have liked anyway.
The fact that news was spreading through the Red Keep like the wind she saw in the displeased look Criston Cole turned towards her as she passed him in the corridor.
"Is the Prince hurting you, my Lady? He is frightening and cold in manner, I am afraid to look at him." Said Lysa, weaving her hair into a braid, her riding attire on her body as it was her turn to fly on patrol around King's Landing.
She involuntarily smiled at her words, feeling a pleasant pulsing between her thighs at the memory of what she had done to him the night before.
The sweet, boyish moan he had let out when he had come deep in her mouth.
She was convinced that she would eventually vomit or suffocate, shocked by the sensation and how much pleasure it gave him, his gaze full of disbelief and fulfilment, his tender arms that embraced her, his lips kissing her forehead.
GĹntan nyke Ĺdrikagon ao, zaldrÄŤtsos?
Did I hurt you, little dragon?
Little dragon.
She liked it when he called her that.
Little dragon, little sister, sweet girl.
He did it to reward her, when he wanted to be tender and gentle, when, satisfied and fulfilled, he fell asleep beside her in a warm bed.
"He doesn't hurt me. On the contrary, I enjoy the time spent in his company. Unlike Ser Criston Cole, who, it seems to me, despises me." She said lightly, casting her a meaningful glance in the reflection of the mirror.
Lysa blinked and furrowed her brow.
"Ser Criston should despise himself above all. He and the Queen only pretend to be humble and full of virtue by day, spending all their nights with each other." She said disapprovingly, and she involuntarily burst out laughing.
"How do you know such things?"
Lysa smiled mockingly.
"Servants know everything, my Lady. You at least don't pretend to be someone you're not." She said and paused as the door to her chamber opened suddenly.
Prince Aemond stepped inside with a confident, lazy stride, erect and proud, not even bestowing a single glance on Lysa.
"Leave us." He commanded, towering over her figure seated in a chair.
Lysa bowed to him, pale, and left quickly without a word.
She blinked, looking straight into his face without fear, waiting for him to convey to her what he had come to her with.
"Today I will be patrolling the skies. We have received reports that a dragon has been seen nearby. It will be safer if me and Vhagar check it first." He said calmly, and she nodded, thinking he didn't need to explain himself to her or come in his own person to tell her this.
He could have simply sent his servant to her.
But he decided otherwise, and she didn't mind.
"Very well. So I will stay and repeat what you taught me last night." She said softly, smiling involuntarily when she saw that his pupil had turned dark, his lips parted slightly at the memory of what she had done to him.
He knew she had teased him.
He took a step towards her, and then another, making her have to lift her head higher to look at his face. She swallowed quietly, feeling a pleasant shiver run through her warm cunt as he ran his thumb over her cheekbone, looking at her as if he was thinking about something.
"Alone? How will you know you're not making the same mistakes? Who will guide you?" He asked softly, cocking his head to the side, his breath deeper and louder.
She looked down and saw that even though the material of his tunic covered that part of his body, his erection had swollen all over, forming a bulge.
She swallowed hard as she saw his hands slide down to his belt, which he undid with a loud click and then did the same to the buckles of his tunic, causing her to breathe louder and louder, feeling both terror and arousal at the same time.
"â do not fret â easy â I acted a little exaggerated last night â you surprised me â" He gasped, untying his breeches with his long fingers, releasing his hard, swollen manhood.
It seemed absurd to her, but his words soothed her.
For some reason, she knew he regretted letting his emotions take over.
She leaned in, gently grasping the base of his throbbing cock, the skin of it soft and delicate, placing a warm, gentle kiss on the pink head of it.
He sighed, sinking the fingers of his hands into her hair, holding her close to his lower abdomen, rubbing his length against her face â she slid her tongue out, running the tip of it over the skin of his fat erection, and he swallowed loudly, trying not to make any humiliating sound.
She closed her eyes, concentrating on his scent, thinking in the back of her mind that he had taken a bath before he came to her â she felt the pleasant, warm throbbing of her womanhood coming to the satisfying conclusion that he had planned this.
He was unable to last into the evening.
"â mmm â yes â just like that â take your time â" He whispered, as if how gentle, slow and tender her caresses were gave him even more pleasure, the thought that she wasn't doing this out of obligation, that she wasn't disgusted by him or despised him.
No.
Her feelings for him were complicated, but deep.
She opened her eyes as her lips traveled up his erection, squeezing it at the root with lazy, sure strokes from which it hardened like rock â she met his eyes, his gaze hot and misty, his lips parted wide in an exasperated breath.
He wanted it, she could feel it in the soft roll of his hips, begging wordlessly for her to let him inside her.
She closed her eyes and spread her mouth wide, leaning lower â she heard his loud sigh as the tip of his length hit the back of her throat. His fingers clenched tighter in her hair, responding to her movements as she began to suck on his manhood, following his advice breathing loudly through her nose in an attempt to control her gag reflex.
His hips began to force his erection deep between her moist lips with slow, steady thrusts, as if he wanted to savour what he was just looking at, her tongue trailing lazily over the delicate structure of his manhood full of his pulsing veins.
"â yes â oh, gods, hÄedar â" He exhaled, tilting his head back, speeding up involuntarily with a loud grunt of delight, his thick cock throbbing all over in her mouth, disappearing between them again and again with loud clicks of her saliva.
She could have hurt him, she could have bitten him, squeezed him harder and caused him pain, humiliated him, destroyed him as a lover and a man.
But she didn't.
She was wet.
Her hand began to stroke the base of his manhood harder when she felt it begin to pulse aggressively deep in her throat, clearly close to fulfillment.
"â fuck â fuck, don't stop, don't stop â" He muttered, panting loudly, chasing his peak, his hips with sharp, fast thrusts slamming between her swollen, wet lips with her moan of exertion.
She felt tears run down her cheeks, one of her hands clenched on his cock and the other on the material of his tunic, thinking that she would endure this, that she would give him what he desired and fulfill his fantasy.
"â y-yes â yes, gods, swallow, swallow, swallow â" He commanded with a loud groan of pleasure, and she felt his seed spill over her tongue â this time she knew what to expect and immediately swallowed his spend, and then again and again, breathing hard through her nose, feeling her heart pounding like mad.
His release was sticky and slightly salty, like nothing she'd ever tasted before.
It tasted like sin.
His hips stilled between her lips, his half-hard manhood throbbing greedily deep in her mouth while they both breathed hard, trying to calm themselves. She heard him swallow hard and then he gently slid his length out of her with a loud smack.
She didn't know why she tightened her hands on his back and hugged herself to his stomach, why she felt warmth when he froze and then embraced her slowly, snuggling her into him, stroking her hair with his fingers.
"â I haven't wasted a drop this time â" She cooed, smiling with amusement and she heard him snort with laughter, surprised apparently by her directness and the fact that his approach didn't scare her at all.
"â indeed â I'm afraid I'm going to make more use of those moist lips â and in return â" He gasped and didn't finish, running his fingertips over her bare neck making her leaking, twitching cunt pulsate around nothing.
"â I'm wet â" She whispered and felt his manhood respond before he could react in any way, throbbing hard, pushing between her breasts.
"â how much? â" He breathed out, clamping his fingers down on her flesh, as if her words meant he couldn't just leave it like that.
"â very much, lÄkia â my womanhood is all soaked and pulsing with pain â" She mumbled, snuggling into him tighter, feeling her nipples harden all over at her own words.
In a moment, he lifted her from her seat and pushed her onto the table, forcing her to lie down on it â it wasn't a comfortable position, but she didn't think much of it when she spread her thighs in front of him and let his hands undo the ties of her breeches.
He leaned over her, looking down at her with his lips parted in lust, his gaze dark and filled with something that both terrified and attracted her at the same time â she moaned involuntarily, writhing before him and as he rested one hand against her head and slid the other under the material of her trousers, sinking his fingers into her leaking, swollen cunt.
"â quiet â good gods â so wet just from sucking my cock â you have no fucking shame â" He hissed coldly, and she threw her head back as his fingertips immediately pushed against her quivering slit, invading her insides, hitting her sweet spot again and again with aggressive, sharp thrusts.
"â oh gods, oh gods, ah, lÄkia, yes â" She whimpered, clamping her hand on his arm wanting more, more, harder.
"â shut the fuck up â" He growled through clenched teeth, quickening his pace â she saw out of the corner of her eye, looking down, that his manhood was thick and hard again, sticking out from between the fabric of his breeches.
"â lÄkia â help me â save me â" She mewled, feeling her hot, fleshy walls begin to tighten around his fingers, his sigh of satisfaction and desire making her feel that she was close, so close.
"â come on â soak my fingers â please your brother â" He breathed out and she came with a loud, girlish cry of delight, feeling tears of relief run down her face as wonderful waves of fulfilment shook her body, a pleasant tingling in her fingertips, her lips, her nipples and her throbbing, greedy cunt.
"â that's it â easy now â easy â" He hummed, just looking at her, holding his two fingers deep inside her, focusing on the way her warm flesh pulsed around them, soaking his whole hand.
She knew he would leave; she knew he had to, and perhaps it wasn't his desire at all but still the way his fingers slid out of her body, his look turned away as he knotted his breeches testifying that he was back in the fortress of his mind made her feel an uncomfortable ache in her heart.
"Come to my chamber tonight, as usual." He said, forcing himself to be indifferent, and left, leaving her lying on the table.
She closed her eyes and exhaled loudly, for some reason feeling tears under her eyelids.
She covered her face with her hand and burst into silent sobs.
Who was she?
His whore?
His lover?
His pet?
His object?
His whim?
She couldn't decide.
Whatever she did she would not be his sister.
Not really.
She swallowed hard and breathed deeply, wiping the warm wetness from her cheeks, trying to calm herself, thinking it didn't matter.
She was what he wanted her to be.
Nothing more.
Just when she was deciding she didn't care, the evening came, and then the night, and with it his hungry mouth sunk into her throbbing cunt, his tongue thrusting again and again deep inside her, building her way to her fulfilment.
His face above hers, his sapphire and eye fixed on her, soft strands of his hair teasing her cheeks before he leaned lower and his lips clung to hers in a sweet, soft, wet kiss.
They lay on their sides facing each other, cuddling their bodies into each other's in a tender, thirsty embrace, their lips finding each other in new, deep, soft caresses almost as if they cared for each other, almost as if they missed each other, almost as if they were happy.
Almost.
His broad hand ran over her hair and face, the tips of his fingers trailing over her cheekbone, jaw and neck, his gaze fixed on her, his lips slightly parted.
"â aĹha laesi issi hae zĹbrie hae lÄŤ hen iÄ myrdys (your eyes are as dark as those of a doe) â gevie (beautiful) â" He whispered, and she felt a squeeze in her heart and burning tears under her eyelids.
Don't do this to me, she thought.
Don't give me hope.
She snuggled into the hollow of his neck, drawing in the air loudly, not wanting him to see the tears running down her cheeks, and he simply kissed her bare shoulder, enclosing her in his embrace.
"â Čłdra limagon daor, zaldrÄŤtsos â aĹha lÄkia iksis kesÄŤr â" He whispered, but his words only made her whoop with her own tears.
Do not cry, little dragon.
Your brother is here.
Gods, how she wished she could love him.
But she couldn't.
She couldn't offer him her heart because she knew he would crush it the moment he ripped it from her chest.
And then she unintentionally told him his mother's secret and saw his real face for the first time.
His tears, his despair, his figure curled up as if he were a infant in her arms.
She was horrified by how vulnerable he was.
How fragile he was.
She realised that the rider of the greatest dragon in the world was a scared little boy.
Some part of her wanted to protect him.
When the King summoned her to a meeting of the Small Council she wondered what had happened â she guessed it had something to do with Cole's and their army's march on Harrenhal, praying that it would turn out that his brother had told him everything, as she had requested.
As she stepped inside, her one-eyed cousin gave her a quick glance, a serenity in his healthy eye.
They both knew that she would spend this night in his bed too.
"What is this important matter that could not wait any longer?" The Queen Mother asked, and everyone's gaze turned to the King.
Aegon grunted and nodded, spreading himself comfortably in his chair at the head of the table.
"I wish to relieve our subjects who live in hunger. This fucking blockade has gone on for too long and I have decided to take measures to remedy it. Greyjoys are tactically avoiding choosing sides in this conflict, and only their fleet could face the Velaryons. In such situations, things are usually resolved through marriage. Lord Greyjoy has two sons, Toron and Rodrick, who are looking for a suitable candidate to marry. My mother and I believe that our beautiful cousin and her dragon will meet all of their father's requirements."
She felt her heart stop for a moment as she looked at him dully, not believing that this was really happening.
My mother and I believe that our beautiful cousin and her dragon will meet all of their father's requirements.
No.
No. No. No. No. No.
Here was her home.
Here, with him.
Alicent looked at her son, who was as shocked as she was, his eye and mouth wide open in panic.
Help me, she thought in her head, feeling her body begin to tremble.
Protect me.
"You knew it would end like this. Your irresponsible behaviour forced us to take the right steps." Queen Alicent said, and she clenched her hands into fists.
You are fucking your guard.
You're as much a whore as I am.
She swallowed hard and looked at her king-cousin, feeling her eyes glaze over with tears.
"â here is my home, my King â please â"
"It would happen sooner or later. Better sooner, given the rumours that reach our ears about where you've been spending the last nights. My brother did not deny it, conversing with me today, that he is taking advantage of yourâŚkindness. I want to put an end to this sinful practice." He interrupted her and she was already about to answer him, but they were interrupted by another, familiar voice.
"No." Her lÄkia said. "She is a Targaryen. 'Tis I, as your younger brother, who, by all rights, have precedence to her hand."
She is a Targaryen.
'Tis I, as your younger brother, who, by all rights, have precedence to her hand.
Good gods, he wanted to marry her.
He wanted to marry her to protect her, so that she would not lose her home or him.
I will care for you, and your place will always be by my side.
Aegon only smiled at his words.
"You can bed whomever you want, brother. But it is I, as King and her protector, who will decide who she marries, and sooner Vhagar will fit into the Dragon's Pit than I'll give you her hand." He said, causing heavy tears to run down her cheeks one by one.
Why?
"Why?" Asked her cousin at the same moment in a way that made her feel a squeeze in her heart, his voice breaking as if he was really in pain, his eyebrows arched in despair.
"Good gods. Since when can the Kingdom afford marriages out of the need of the heart? Your subjects are starving. This agreement can make us break the blockade. Are your desires more important than the sake of the Realm?" Aegon sneered, and she burst into a loud sobs, hiding her face in her hands.
They will send her away.
She will lose everything again.
She'll be a nobody again.
She will become another man's toy.
"My decision is final. I will have the crow sent to the Iron Islands with our generous offer later today. That is all."
Her lÄkia came to her chamber despite the fact that the evening had not yet dawned and she was always the one to visit him â she threw herself into his arms and cried out loud, overcome by complete hysteria, his hands clamped on her body.
"â no â please, don't let him do it, don't send me away, don't send me away, don't send me away â" She begged him and heard him swallow hard, his lips placing warm, tender kisses on her face.
"â shhh â shhh, sweet girl â I won't â" He assured her.
"â you're lying â you're going to sell me, you're going to abandon me like he did â" She sobbed, choking on her own tears, tightening her fingers on his back.
Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me.
She sighed as he grabbed her by the hair and gently tilted her head back, forcing her to look at him.
"What did I tell you? Back then, when we were lying under the stars. What did I promise in return for you taming a dragon?" He asked quietly, and she swallowed hard, looking at him with big eyes.
"â that my place will always be by your side â that you will protect me â that I will be your little sister â" She mumbled out with difficulty, and he closed her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers, exactly as he had done then.
"â and you are â" He hissed, his fingers clamping in her hair. "â you are fucking mine â"
You are fucking mine.
For the first time, it was he who stayed in her chamber â they just lay together in her bed, taking off all their clothes beforehand and kissed, stroking their naked bodies with their hands.
She fell asleep in his embrace drenched in tears.
She didn't believe him.
She did not believe a word he said.
She knew he was just telling her what she wanted to hear, so that she wouldn't panic and run to her father, changing sides at the last moment.
During the night she dreamt that despite her cries and pleas he had stabbed a dagger into her heart, telling her that after the war was over she had become a threat to him, that she and her dragon were no longer necessary to him.
"Did you really think I would let you live?" he asked, and she awoke with a cry of despair, clutching at her heart, on which she clasped her hands.
"â gods â what is it? â what happened? â" She heard his sleepy muttering beside her, his hand touched her shoulder, and she pulled away from him as if burned, thinking that he really wanted to do this to her.
He really wanted to kill her.
He looked at her with big eyes, the pain of rejection in his gaze, as she pulled away from him despite him extending his hand to her.
"â breath, hÄedar â a bad dream? â" He asked and she nodded, whooping, unable to catch her breath.
"â yes â" She mumbled out.
He swallowed hard, making a renewed attempt, this time touching her calf, stroking it reassuringly, and she didn't move away.
It was only a dream.
"â Daemon? â" He asked further, and she shook her head.
"â you â" She mumbled, his eye big in shock. "â you stabbed me in the heart â and asked if I really thought you would let me live â"
She mouthed with difficulty and burst into sobs, hiding her face in her hands.
She heard him freeze in disbelief, breathing loudly, his hand clamped down on her ankle.
"â gods, hÄedar â no â no, come here â" He muttered, grabbing her arm, and she shook her head, wanting to pull away from him.
"â please â don't deceive me anymore â we both know that when this is over you will kill me â"
"â no â" He exhaled, pressing his forehead against hers, clasping his fingers in her hair. "â I wanted to do it â then, in the Vale â but I wasn't able to â I won't hurt you â after the war you'll stay by my side â as you are now â" He gasped out, pressing his lips, swollen with emotion to hers in loud, aggressive, desperate kisses.
"â warming your bed while you're married? â" She breathed out into his throat, responding to his caresses, melting with him into one in greedy, passionate dance of their slick tongues, their hands enclosing them in their tight embrace.
"â you are the one I will marry â" He growled, as if her words enraged him, turning her onto her back, his knee forcing her aggressively to spread her thighs apart.
They both sighed and froze when she felt the tip of his swollen cock push against her throbbing slit.
"â A-Aemond â" She mumbled out terrified and aroused, feeling the movement of his hips push his hard erection deeper into her with their loud, surprised moans.
She felt she struggled to catch her breath, stretched to the limit on his throbbing manhood, strangely filled, at his mercy.
Her hands clenched on his naked, muscular arms as he lay on top of her and pressed her to the bed, her plump breasts pressed against his torso, the fat head of his cock deep inside her.
"â I can't take it anymore â" He breathed out, and she whimpered, tilting her head back, feeling him thrust deeper and deeper into her, pushing against something inside her that made her feel discomfort and stinging pain. "â I crave you â"
He said and covered her mouth with his hand when finally with one, violent push he ripped something deep inside her, making her squirm in pain, tears of exertion and horror running down the sides of her face, her whole body quivering.
Gods, he had taken her maidenhood.
If part of her had wanted this for so long, why was she so terrified now?
"â shhh â shhh, little sister, the worst is behind us â" He exhaled tenderly, pulling his hand away from her mouth, allowing her to take a deep breath.
"â I'm scared â" She mumbled in a voice trembling with fear and his eyebrows arched in pain at her words.
He made no movement, looking at her as if worried and concerned, stroking her cheek with his fingers, trying to soothe her, his swollen manhood throbbing hard deep inside her.
"â do you want me to stop? â I will if you want me to â forgive me â" He whispered at last in a voice breaking with shame, as if he was horrified by what he had done and how he had achieved it.
She swallowed quietly and shook her head, thinking that if he did this, something would end between them â he would feel rejected and not want to touch her again, and she needed him, craved him and what he was giving her.
He sighed, pressing his face against hers, kissing her plump, hot cheek with some kind of gratitude, as if he appreciated her effort, understanding that she was doing this for him.
"â don't be afraid, zaldrÄŤtsos â we'll do it slowly â I won't hurt you â" He assured her, stroking her head as if she were a small child, his forehead pressed against hers.
She sighed as he gently slid out of her before sinking unhurriedly back deep into her body, making a sound stuck in her throat â this experience, of another body deep inside her, filling her to the brim, was so foreign and strange that she didn't know how she should react or what to feel.
He pulsed aggressively inside her and he was hard â a quiet moan rippled out of her throat each time he opened her wide again and again on the thick part of his cock with quiet clicks of her wetness â she closed her eyes as she felt him begin to hit the sweet spot he always sought with his fingers with each thrust, and the first waves of pleasure flowed along her spine like a tingle.
"â ah â" She mewled, opening her eyes, meeting his heated gaze, their breaths heavy and raptured â she dared to let go of his shoulders and slide her hands down his back, to his buttocks, clamping her fingers on them, emboldening him to move inside her faster.
"â does it hurt? â" He breathed out, thrusting into her a little more confidently, stroking her hot face, wet with tears, with his thumb, kissing the tip of her nose again and again, brushing her puffy lips with his own.
"â n-no â not anymore â but â how should it look? â how have you done it with other women? â" She gasped in a trembling voice, and he stopped moving, looking at her with his mouth wide open.
"â do you want to see for yourself? â" He asked, and she nodded.
"â fuck me â" She whispered.
Fuck me.
She gasped and closed her eyes, throwing her head back when he pounded aggressively into her core with a throaty groan of pleasure, as if he himself was surprised at how pleasurable it was, slamming into her with loud, sticky splats of their bodies against each other.
He moved inside her so fast that she could only spread her thighs wider, crossing them over his sweaty back, their moans pathetic and high-pitched as he hit the same wonderful spot deep inside her tight cunt with each push, himself clearly taking immense satisfaction from this wet, intimate act.
Their hands clenched helplessly on their bodies as their hips began to meet â she felt that what he was doing to her dulled her to pain, instead arousing tension in her loins that grew and grew in her lower abdomen, making her leak all over, soaking his cock with every sharp thrust he made.
"â fucking mine â" He hissed through clenched teeth, locking her moans between his lips, which he pressed against hers in an aggressive kiss â she felt his tongue invade between her teeth, repeating the movements of his hips, forcing itself deep into her throat just as his swollen erection burst between her fleshy, throbbing walls.
She was unable to take a breath between his one thrust and the next, panting hard along with him, her core slick and warm, despite her initial resistance accepting him now with ease.
He pressed his fingers against her bare skin, pounding into her with low grunts of pleasure so fast that he no longer slid out of her, his gaze fixed on their joined bodies.
"â vok syt nyke (perfect for me) â ao se aĹha byka orvorta (you and your little cunt) â" He praised her, and she spasmed in euphoria as she felt something approaching â she seemed to howl his name as the aggressive, overpowering pleasure shook her body, loosening her completely, pulling a sigh of relief from her throat, tears of emotion and exertion rolling down her red cheeks.
"â oh gods â oh gods, yes, yes, yes, hÄedar â" He gasped out and closed his eye, coming so hard that he cried out along with her, a convulsion shaking his body, and then she felt something warm spill inside her in waves.
His seed.
He came inside her.
Good gods, she thought, lying with closed eyes completely without strength, her hands placed numbly on either side of her head.
She sighed as his body fell against hers, their breaths heavy and hitched, their bodies hot and sweaty, his half-soft manhood still pulsing deep inside her.
It was such an intimate sensation, so strange and sticky â two bodies being one, him, filling her to the brim.
"â I will take you as my wife as soon as I return from the battlefield â I promise â" He breathed out into her ear, and she closed her eyes and swallowed hard, wondering why he was saying that.
"â your brother will never agree to this â" She whispered, feeling that she was a different person now.
She was no longer a maiden.
She twisted restlessly in her place hearing that his silence answered her, his face nestled against her temple, the tip of his nose sinking into her cheek before he whispered the words into her ear as if he was telling her his secret.
"â leave it to me â"
#aemond targaryen#aemond fic#aemond fanfiction#hotd aemond#aemond one eye#prince aemond#aemond kinslayer#prince aemond targaryen#house of the dragon aemond#aemond angst#aemond x oc#aemond x female#aemond x fem!oc#aemond x original female character#aemond x original character#canon aemond#hotd fanfic#hotd fanfiction#hotd fic#hotd angst#aemond the kinslayer#aemond targaryen angst#house of the dragon#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#hotd smut#dark aemond#dark aemond targaryen#dark aemond angst#dark aemond smut
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Louie isnât evil.
Or: what Pikmin 4 tells us about his character.
BIG WARNING FOR PIKMIN 4 SPOILERS! (and the rest of the series)
âââ
I want to preface this by saying that I am in no way trying to be the end-all, be-all of character interpretations, but Pikmin 4 to me, at least, confirms the suspicions Iâve had since playing Pikmin 2 and 3 all those years ago that Louie ISNâT secretly evil, or possessed, or whatever else. Heâs just⌠Louie. And I think thatâs interesting in and of itself.
1. Olimar himself vouches for him, and clearly doesnât think heâs a bad person.
Say what you will, but Iâm inclined to think Olimar is a decent judge of character. Clearly heâs worked with Louie for enough time to see that while heâs not very good at his job, heâs not intentionally soâ at least not in a malevolent way (will get more into this later). He also wants you to forgive him for Olimarâs sake, which can be read as self-sacrificing (as Olimar is known to be) but I also think hints at the soft spot he has for Louie.
It's also worth noting that he states during a end-of-day conversation that he told Louie that, since he's a new employee, he should do everything Olimar does... including throw castaways into the onion. Interesting that Louie took this so literally, but it does provide an explanation for why he kidnapped the Koppaites beyond "he's evil and crazy".
2. He really, REALLY loves his grandma.
Like, wow. He talks about her SO MUCH both in his Piklopedia entries and also elsewhere in the game. It's interesting. Worth noting is that he never mentions any other family members- unlike Olimar, who talks about his wife and each of his children independently. I've said this before, but the content of a lot of these entries implies to me that Louie was mainly raised by his grandma, likely since birth. And given some of her emails in Pikmin 2, assuming they're also canon to Pikmin 4's timeline... Well, Louie certainly had an interesting upbringing. But he clearly loves her all the same.
3. He has a mischievous streak and tends to do things on impulse.
This was already fairly obvious from the previous games, but I think it's worth noting that this game confirms that he's... would immature be the right word? In any regard, he doesn't seem to see himself as a "grown-up"- when in all likelihood he is. Personally, as a 22-year-old, I find that pretty relatable as I often think of myself as younger when in reality I am by all definitions an adult. This, along with his grandma still being around, makes it pretty much certain that Louie is a lot younger than Olimar and the president, likely in his early to mid twenties. Being a bit of a goofball isn't really out of the ordinary, all things considered.
THAT BEING SAID, he's clearly capable of practicing self-restraint when he wants to. What he says here about the red Pikmin is pretty significant, since we know he's willing to eat just about anything- but clearly he has some reservations about creatures that are friendly and helpful. Which leads to...
4. He loves dogs and fluffy things.
Same. But he doesn't even consider eating Moss, Oatchi or the Ancient Sirehound, showing that his creature-eating habits stop at things he recognizes as useful. He clearly also holds affection for things that are soft and fuzzy, and says as much.
5. He is so autism.
He plays with fidget toys. He loves certain textures and sounds. This guy is stimming all over PNF-404!!! I think this also lends some explanation for why his behavior is what it is- things like taking Olimar's suggestion to do as he does super literally even after crashing on an alien planet, his hyperfixation on cooking and tendency not to communicate and incorrectly interpret situations (thinking the Koppaites are kidnappers in 3, running away from you in 4). He could even be low or no empathy as well, explaining why it takes a hot minute to get him to understand why people are upset with him about something.
Interestingly this game also makes it clear that Louie wants to live on the planet, or at least thought he did while you were chasing him down, which makes a lot of sense when you consider that he doesn't really seem to fit in back on Hocotate. I, too, wish to run away to an alien world with all of the things that I like and no other people, so I get you, Louie.
6. He hates his boss and his job, and the golden pikpik carrot incident was likely premeditated.
This probably looks bad, but honestly? As a fellow work-hating anti-capitalist schmuck I get it. The president is for all intents and purposes a huge asshole, from sending Olimar straight back to the planet after selling his ship to not caring that Louie got left behind, just wanting to find the rest of the treasures. I doubt he is very kind to his employees, and doesn't seem very good at running the business. Definitely a funny character, but if he were my boss I would absolutely want to punt him into the sun.
From some other entries he clearly wants to sell certain things to accrue money, but it's for things like getting better kitchen tools and following his dream to have his own cooking show. Clearly being a freight driver isn't what Louie actually wants to do with his life, and he could not give less of a shit about what happens to the company. Very short-sighted on his part, but also again, yeah I get you Louie.
7. He... doesn't like the color red for some reason.
Honestly, I'm not even really sure what to make of this. Is it because it reminds him of the Hocotate ship? Or does he just not like the color? Would be very interesting considering that it's Olimar's signature color. Perhaps that's at least part of why he attacks you in Pikmin 2- though that's speculation for another day.
Also funny to me is his comments on the black-colored treasures. We know blue is his favorite color, but I guess he's also a bit of a goth at heart. Lol.
In conclusion.
I think Louie isn't written or intended to be evil, and Pikmin 4's portrayal of him was intentionally written to confirm this. He's just, as some have said, an agent of chaos, but that doesn't make him a bad person. Just an autistic 20-something working a shitty job he doesn't care about, who loves his grandma and has a mischievous streak and a hyperfixation on food. At least from what I can interpret, ymmv!
#polly speaks#pikmin#pikmin 4 spoilers#pikmin spoilers#pikmin 4#pikmin 2#pikmin 3#louie pikmin#olimar pikmin#character analysis#I guess#I dunno I mostly just wanted to put all this shit together in my brain but I guess other people can see it too haha#This is a non exhaustive list btw I just had a limit to how many images I wanted to wrangle but maybe I'll add on to this in the future#for now uh. Enjoy my weird rambling about the pikmin gremlin
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Threeâs Company
This is just a lil blurb about Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan and you being in love! Based on the following Request: @satans-bitch Hi! Idk if you would be comfortable writing it, but I love the idea of Aaron hotchner x reader x Derek Morgan just all being so in love with each other. Thank u Xx â I took some creative libertiesâŚI hope you like it!
Hotch x BAU! Fem Reader x Morgan
Word count: 883
REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!
Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Fem reader, pet names, poly-relationship (Iâm not the most familiar with this lifestyle) canon typical violence, mantion of babies and pregnancy, Let me know if I missed any.
I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.
So, neither Derek nor Aaron ever and I mean EVER thought theyâd be in a polyamorous relationship. But let me tell you, when you arrived at the BAU, they both knew they had to have you. Aaron had gone to Dave time and time again seeking advice and Derek did the same with Penelope.
Theyâd both complain that there was no way you were interested, because clearly you like the other guy. Only, that wasnât quite the issue.
You didnât just like Aaron or Derek, you liked them both. They were so similar and yet so different and there was no way you could ever choose just one of them.
After many instances of the men fighting for your attention and affection, you pulled them both aside to have a serious conversation.
âI think I should leave the BAU.â You stated.
âWhat? No!â Derek blurted.
âWhy would you think that?â Aaron inquired. âIf our behavior has made you uncomfortable, I am so sorry. It was never my intention, and I would hate to see such a talented agent leave because of my idiocy.â
âItâs not your guyâs behavior thatâs making me feel this way. Itâs my feelings for you.â You said, gesturing to both men.
âFeelings for who?â Derek questioned.
âBoth of you.â You blushed.
That evening youâd explained to the men that you had feelings for both of them and had the situation been different youâd have suggested a poly relationship, but you knew that it was too much to ask of two alpha males whoâd never been in one before.
What you hadnât expected to happen was for them to give you a quizzical look and then ask you to give them some time to think about it.
--
It had been nearly a year since then and the three of you had developed something truly beautiful. Aaron had been so stoic at work but at home he was soft, and he always did everything in his power to ensure you and Derek were both cared for.
And well Derek, he was clingy at home. Always wanting his hands on you and heâd come to really enjoy having physical contact with Aaron.
Like when youâd watch a movie, Aaron would have his arm slung over the back of the couch while you cuddled up into his side, and Derek would be sitting as close to you as possible, practically sitting you in his lap. This position would allow for Aaronâs hand to rest around Derek as well and that warmth became a comfort for him.
There had been another shift shortly after that, pet namesâŚtheyâd been slipping out more frequently. And not just them men using them with you either.
âSweetheart can you pass me my phone?â Aaron had asked, looking directly at Derek.
âSure thing sugar.â Derek had replied.
You had been shocked initially, but it ultimately had warmed your heart to see them falling into this relationship more and more. Their comfort in this had been your main priority, you hadnât cared about anything else.
--
Work had been the toughest part of this newfound dynamic. When any of you got hurt on a case, the other two couldnât exactly hold it together. And with the team being out of the loop of your lifestyle, well they definitely suspected something.
The most recent had been Aaron, he had been shot while taking down an unsub. Thankfully it had been a flesh wound, but when you heard the shot and saw him go down, you couldnât help the wail that tore through you. The paramedics had requested you step away, and Derek pulled you into his embrace to get you to comply.
âBaby heâs gonna be okay!â Derek said while holding you close.
âHe was shot D! What if heâs not?â You cried.
âI know heâs gonna be okay baby. He has to be.â Derek mumbled the last part.
You looked up to see the tears falling from his misty eyes, and you held him tighter. The team sat by and watched the situation play out, fully convinced now that something was transpiring between the three of you. More than they had initially assumed.
--
The newest development had been the discussion of children. The guys had baby fever, they had seen you interacting with your sisterâs newborn and you swear you saw them both drooling over the sight of you.
SoâŚhave you ever thought about having kids princess?â Derek posed.
Currently you were lying on the couch, your head in Derekâs lap and him pressed against Aaron. The movie playing, long forgotten as Derek combed his fingers through your hair and Aaron traced shapes on Derekâs bicep.
âUm, yesâŚI have thought about it. Why do you ask?â You sat up.
âWell, honey, we had a conversation about it the other day.â Aaron clarified.
âYou twoâŚhad a conversation about me having a baby?â You questioned.
âAbout usâŚhaving a baby.â Derek said, gesturing to the three of you.
Your jaw dropped in shock. What had started as inappropriate flirting in the workplace had developed into a serious relationship between the three of you. One fueled by love, safety, and trust.
âI would love to have a baby with you guys.â You smiled. âI love you.â
âI love you.â
âI love you.â
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotch hotchner#hotch#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner x reader#criminal minds#aaron x reader#hotch x reader#hotch x you#hotch x y/n#criminal minds fandom#thomas gibson#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch imagine#aaron hotch fluff#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotchner x you#agent hotchner#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#aaron hotchner one shot#aaron hotch#derek morgan#derek x reader#hotchgan#derek morgan x y/n#derek morgan oneshot#derek morgan fanfic
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An Exercise in Solace
Pairing: Sylus x MC / fem!reader Rating: T | Teen Tags: hurt/comfort, hurt, comfort, PTSD mentions, reader has PTSD, canon sylus behavior, Summary: Today should've been like any other when you stepped into the sparring ring with Sylus, except it wasn't. Word Count: 1k
The door to Sylusâs bedroom swings open and he finds you sprawled out on his couch, holding this monthâs travel magazine above your face. Your legs are thrown over one arm and youâre kicking them lazily back and forth as you turn the page. When you hear the door open, you glance over at him and pretend not to see him dressed to work out, your eyes flicking back to the glossy pages of paradise in your hands.Â
âHey, what do you think about-âÂ
Sylus plucks the travel magazine from your hands and you pout up at him. âYou can choose where we go after we practice today, kitten.â To argue with Sylus is useless, because both of you know in the end who will win the verbal spar. You sigh, rolling off the couch reluctantly and popping to your feet.Â
â...Fine.â You go get ready and prepare yourself for the hours ahead.Â
You meet up with him again in the training room and find Sylus already warmed up. Thinking that was a little odd but dismissing it as his usual eagerness to spend time with you, you let him walk you through your paces. By the time heâs satisfied youâre ready to enter the ring in the middle of the room, youâre already tired.
âI wonât go easy on you today, sweetie.â Sylus purrs and seems playful as the two of you face each other, but thereâs a slight edge to his tone.
It makes you tense and a little wary.Â
As the two of you begin to spar, the exchange of blows seems routine as usual. You find yourself blocking and dodging most of his attacks, but youâre clearly unfocused and not taking this seriously at all. You miss the way Sylusâs face hardens in frustration and he turns away after deflecting a blow from you with ease.Â
âLetâs make a deal, kitten.âÂ
You perk up at the mention of a deal, suddenly more animated than you were a moment ago. When he offers you the thing youâve been begging for from him for weeks, you jump at the chance without caring what it might cost you.
Once the deal has been made he turns back to face you, but his expression is unreadable.Â
The moment he rushes you and you barely defend yourself from his onslaught is when the realization starts to sink in that this might not be one of Sylusâs many games anymore. Before, Sylus had been kind, gentle when the two of you spent time together like this.Â
Loving, in the way he had taught you.
You dance backward, desperate to avoid his long reach and trip, hitting the ground hard. Sylus doesnât even try to catch you like he usually would, his gaze downcast as he closes the distance you had created.Â
âGet up,â he says tersely. Your ears are still ringing from where heâd clipped you on the jaw seconds ago. âGet up.â There's an edge of panic to the sharpness of his tone that makes you angry.
âGive me a-âÂ
âWill they?â he taunts, but heâs not smiling as heâs closing in. âWill the wanderers wait for you while you catch your breath? Do you think they would be as polite as I am, sweetie?âÂ
You growl and push yourself unsteadily to your feet and stagger sideways; catching yourself with one hand on your knee. Sylus tamps down his pride that you stood up so quickly after the blow he dealt you, knowing that many men wouldnât have gotten back up again at all. Youâre so weak and it eats away at him how reckless you are sometimes, how invincible you think you are. He needs you to be strong so he doesnât have to worry about you. This is all he can do when you insist on putting yourself in danger or going into no hunt zones without him where he cannot protect you. A gnawing fear grips him at just how close you had come to dying last time. What if you weren't so lucky next time?
What ifâ
âCome at me again.â Gone were the pet names, the cajoling, the easy, teasing smiles he wore during your practice matches.
The pounding in your head makes it hard for you to think, but youâre angry with him and with yourself. As much as you hate to admit it, Sylus is right. The wanderers and wanted men you hunted wouldnât afford you the same courtesy Sylus does and would continue to hurt innocent people while you could do nothing. The thought of not being able to even save yourself consumes you and you attack Sylus recklessly. It takes him by surprise, and the two of you are fighting for real. You realize you canât land a blow on him and itâs infuriating.Â
Your vision blurs and you swallow the urge to scream as the flashbacks of all the times you hadnât been fast enough, strong enough, just enough to save all of those people. How, even last week, the memory of how you had almost died if Sylus hadnât found you in time threatens to choke you with disappointed rage.Â
He feels your punch to his stomach but thereâs no strength behind it, your head bowed and body trembling violently. Sylus catches you the moment your legs give out and gathers you into the safety of his arms.Â
The pang of guilt Sylus feels is worse than any shot to the gut heâs ever taken. He pushed you too far, too fast, and he knows it.
He lowers the both of you to the ground and you find yourself cradled in his lap, your fingers digging into his skin as you cling onto him and sob. The comfort Sylus offers you is paltry at best, but he tries as his hand awkwardly soothes you as gently as he can manage. His fingers trace over your back in a slow, comforting pattern and he doesn't know if it's working when you cry harder. His murmured words against your hair are filled with soft apologies and the tender promises of whatever you wanted would be yours, no matter the cost.
Sylus makes you look at him once you calm down and his words drip with sincerity and conviction.Â
âI canât give you back what youâve already lost, kitten, but I can help you protect whatâs yours going forward.â
#sylus x reader#sylus x mc#lads sylus#sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus x you#love and deepspace sylus#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace#my writing#sylus fic#sylus fanfiction#lads x you#no beta don't bully me
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SINFUL REVENGE.
Aemond Targaryen x little sister!Reader/ Aegon II Targaryen x little sister!Reader
After catching Aegon with a servant girl between his legs, you found a way to put him back in his place.
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; dub/non-con, p in v, oral (fem receiving), voyeurism, canon typical incest/targcest, humiliating, degrading, cum eating, jealous Aemond Targaryen
WORDS: 1.9 K
It was one of the many evenings where your mother had caught Aegon sitting in your marital chambers with a servant girl between his legs, repeatedly choking her with his cock. And while there was not one fiber of your body that felt something like love for him, your husband, it annoyed you he chose to fuck everything with two legs, except for you - more because it bruised your ego, not because you truly desired him.Â
You were the second choice, when it came to marrying Aegon, however, your older sister Helaena was snatched away as the Wolf of the North came to the capital, finding a certain liking in her and taking her to the North with him.Â
All your life, you grew up with the knowledge of marrying your older twin brother Aemond, and you and him were not unwilling to play your part in your parents scheming and your House's customs.Â
After your wedding to Aegon, however, Aemond and you had taken matters into your own hands. Where Aegon did not touch you after you consummated the marriage, Aemond did - at every chance he got.Â
But you couldn't say that your current position was notâŚÂ exciting you.Â
Your head was lying in Aegonâs lap with him being completely naked, while Aemond was pounding into you, practically assaulting your womanhood.Â
Once supper had ended, Aemond retrieved back to his chambers with you following shortly after using one of the secret pathways of Maegorâs Holdfast. Aegon, surprisingly, stormed into Aemondâs chambers not long after you two had started undressing each other, and stood in the door more amused than shocked.Â
You always were hot-blooded and had quite the sharp tongue, so it was an easy game for you to crush every sense of superiority your husband had felt upon the intrusion - the built up anger and frustration about your failed marriage clearly playing its part in it, too.Â
The rapid thrumming of your heart ringing in your ears and the adrenaline that filled your body played a huge role in you not knowing how you got into that position - and you definitely did not know what got into your twin brother to allow it in the first place.Â
Aemond was possessive and far from enjoying sharing whatever he had claimed as his, but it probably had something to do with him getting his revenge on his older brother for stealing you from him. A bruised ego and a broken heart definitely did not go well together.Â
If it wasnât for Aegonâs hard cock pressing into the back of your neck, you wouldâve thought he was not comfortable with watching Aemond taking you. A slight blush covered his otherwise pale skin, and he never kept his eyes on you both for a longer period - always drifting from where you were connected to other parts of your body, or even the floor.Â
He did not know where to look because Aemond made it seem easy as anything as his curved member eased into you, Aegonâs wife, causing you to arch and moan on the settle and against the elderâs body. Wanton noises of pleasure left your lips as your twin brother filled you, all while Aegon had to process that his little brother was very well endowed .Â
Much to your husbandâs disliking, you had forbidden him to touch himself, because he had not earned that reward - not when he always chose to stick his cock into the cunt of the next best whore and not yours.Â
Aemondâs pent up anger was only palpable in the way he forced his cock into your tight core, otherwise he held a surprisingly cute look of intense concentration on his face, obviously wanting to perform well enough to rub your pleasure into your brotherâs face.Â
As Aegon once again decided to turn his head away from you, you had enough and roughly grabbed his face with one hand, forcing it back into your direction. âWatch, Aegon,â you commanded, your voice tinted with a hint of sharpness that usually only belonged to the baritone voices of either your father or uncle; the tone that made clear it was not a request but a demand. âWatch how good Aemond is making me feel. Watch how he takes what rightfully belongs to you.â The older Targaryen only squirmed in his seat but proceeded to keep his lilac eyes glued to where his brotherâs cock repeatedly disappeared into your tight heat.Â
âTis how a man is supposed to take care of his wife,â Aemond all but spat the words, his jealousy perfectly audible, reaching to clasp his hand around your throat and inevitably pressed your head further into Aegonâs lap. You moaned in return, and it was difficult not to notice Aegonâs cock throbbing at the sound.Â
Aegon mustâve tried to touch either you or himself, because the tsking of Aemond was loud enough to cause him to flinch. That movement had you chuckling, because you found humor in how different your brother was acting in contrast to his usual, cocky self. Right now, he was nothing more than a pathetic man that was forced to watch his wife being taken by another - and finding his own pleasure in it.Â
âDo you see how wet she is for me, brother?â Aemond bragged, pride laced within his voice. âPray tell, was she just as wet for you during your bedding?â
The moan you released at Aemondâs shameless teasing maybe was a tad exaggerated, however, it was impressing you how well he handled the situation, his current demeanor the complete opposite to how he usually behaved.Â
Aemondâs member hit you deep enough to brush the spot inside of you that had your jaw slacken, the familiar knot tightening in your belly and snapping when his fingers began rubbing the sensitive bud at the apex between your legs.Â
The way your walls convulsed all over Aemondâs cock, with you releasing the sweetest and most desperate sounds both your brotherâs had ever heard, seemed to trigger his own peak, and shortly after, he was spending himself inside of your quivering walls. Â Â
The pleasure was almost too much for you to handle, and you barely registered the quiet whines that left your eldest brotherâs lips at the sight - and feeling - of your pleasure rippling through your body.Â
You always relished in the feeling of Aemondâs seed filling you up, more so when he continued to fuck you through his peak, the majority of his spent slowly oozing out of your assaulted womanhood and down your arse as he eventually pulled out.Â
But then an idea came to your mind.Â
As you tipped your head back and batted your eyelashes at the man whose lap your head rested in, you couldnât stop yourself from smiling wickedly up at him. Aegonâs silver curls were disheveled despite not doing much, and the slight pink on his cheeks had deepened to crimson, covering his cheeks and even running down his neck.Â
Yet his lilac eyes were dark blown at the same time, fixed with your matching pair.Â
âGet over there and clean me up, husband ,â you spoke the name in a condescending manner, commanding him. âClean up Aemondâs seed.â
When Aegon obeyed without objection, gently placing your head in the pillows on the settle and walking around to kneel between your parted legs, you met the wide eye of Aemond, his cocked eyebrow perfectly showing what he was thinking, âAre you serious? âÂ
But instead of taking a cloth to clean himself up, Aemond stopped in his tracks and peaked over his older brotherâs shoulders in curiosity as his tongue licked a flat stripe from your entrance to your sensitive bud, the motion causing you to shudder.Â
A husky groan caught your attention, and if it wasn't for Aemondâs chest rising with each labored breath he took, you wouldâve mistaken the sound to come from Aegon instead, only reassured by the realization that his mouth was occupied with lapping at your mound, and all sounds that threatened to escape his lips were muffled by your warm flesh.Â
As your eyes flickered back to Aemondâs to search for his reassurance, you spotted his hand being clasped around his semi erect member, working himself to full hardness at the sight of Aegonâs mouth on your womanhood and how your body keened at the stimulation.
Despite the resentment you felt towards Aegon, you were making the sweetest sounds for both of them - after all your brother had certainly learned how to put his mouth to good use during all the hours he spent in the Street of Silk.
The lewd smacking noises of his tongue plunging in and out of your entrance soon filled the thick silence within your twinâs chambers, and somehow were enough to spur you on - a sudden surge of boldness running through your veins.Â
You buried your hands in the mop of silver-blonde curls, not-so-gently tugging on the soft strands and using them as reins to guide you where you wanted him most. Aegon groaned against your cunt in return, and proceeded to lick you clean with newfound vigor.
âDo you like that, Aegon?â You moaned over the sound of wet squelching, rutting your hips against his face as his tongue flicked against your pearl. âDo you like lapping up another manâs seed? To clean your wifeâs cunt after another man has peaked inside of her?â
Aegon said nothing, but the desperate whine and growl that rumbled in his chest definitely were enough to confirm your questions. His tongue was dragging over your mound with such a ferocity, you were almost reaching your second peak. Almost .Â
That was not the plan, and Aemond seemed to think the same way, because it was him interrupting Aegon, a firm hand placed on his older brotherâs shoulder to pull him back.Â
âEnough,â his authoritative tone sent shivers up your spine, the urge to beg him to take you yet again becoming almost irresistible.Â
A pout was draped across your features at the loss of contact, followed by a desperate whine. âQuit being a brat, Y/N,â Aemond scolded. âYou have had your fair share. Tis enough for now.â Surprisingly, you werenât the only one pouting, because Aegon seemed to find his pleasure in it all as well, even though he had not touched himself once.Â
But you knew better than to protest, and allowed Aegon to get on his feet again. Aemond, on the other hand, had already put his breeches back on, standing in his chambers half-dressed. He handed a stack of clothes back to Aegon, silently dismissing him from his chambers, and when Aegon was dressed, he left as quick as he came.Â
You were propped up on your elbows, looking at Aemond with the same expression he had flashed you earlier, â Are you serious? â He raised his eyebrow at you, too, and threw your smallclothes and dress into your direction.Â
It was safe to say that, once you were attired and back in your marital chambers, the hands of your husband were all over you even before the door shut behind you, claiming what rightfully was his and relieving the desire that threatened to cut the last threads of his restraint.Â
The impropriety of your revenge gave you exactly what you had wanted all along.Â
#aemond targaryen#aegon ii targaryen#hotd#house of the dragon#aemond fanfiction#house of the dragon aemond#aemond stannies#aemond smut#aemond targaryen smut#hotd imagine#hotd smut#aegon ii smut#aegon targaryen smut#aegon x reader#aegon ii targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen imagine#aegon ii targaryen fic#hotd aemond#aemond targaryen x you#aemond#aemond one eye#aegon targaryen#aegon ii#hotd x reader#hotd x y/n#hotd x you#aegond#aemond x reader#aemond x you#aemond x y/n
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HI ITS BARD ANON I MISSED YOU!!! insane request but what about a situation where the party + kabru + chilâs family orchestrate a date between chil and reader? like setting them up⌠i think thatâd be so cuteeee
for the dancing and the dreaming
âŚft! chilchuck x gn! reader
âŚtags! fluff, post-canon spoilers, chilchuckâs wife remains nameless, i love chilchuck's family can you tell
âŚwc! 1887
âŚnotes! BARD ANON IâM BACK FROM WAR (burnout) !!!! these two requests are similar so i decided to make âem a wombo combo!!! enjoy my loves!
The woman gives you a kindly smile as she waves you off, you and her ex leaving the tavern. She sighs and leans back, crossing her arms.
God, Chilchuck is more stupid than she remembered.
How could he possibly miss the affection in your eyes when he called out to you both before you left? Or how you clearly wanted to ask if you can stay with him longer? Heâs just going to ignore that and consider it all platonic?
What an idiot. Do I really have to step in for him again? Just like old times, huh�
The half-foot taps a finger against her cheek in thought. Maybe she can push you to confess? No, youâd probably wave your hands around and insist against having feelings for Chilchuck in the first place. A heavy sigh escapes her.
Looks like she has to do things the old-fashioned way.
Step 1 â Family
The quickest way to alert someone is to see who the people closest to you know. Flertom is rather in-the-know about any gossip. Usually, as a mother, the half-foot really doesnât want to encourage such things, but for nowâŚ
âWhatâs trendy in dating circles nowadays?â She asks offhandedly, eyeing a bouquet Flertom bought to gift a possible suitor. âIs the man still expected to be the one to initiate everything?â
She could nearly scoff at her own words. Only reason she and Chil got together was pure happenstance. Practically a blur by now. Heâd be hopeless at actually trying to start anything with you.
The younger woman hums in curiosity, before stopping to think. âNot really nowadays, noâŚÂ If you have enough charisma, you can charm any man into taking you out for a drink. Why do you ask, Ma?â
Flertom squints as she watches her mother laugh and shake her head in response. âOh, I just think your old man might need some⌠encouragement with a new flame is all.â
Just as she expected, Flertom was immediately on the ball with planning, rushing out to the town in order to visit her sisters and inform them of the operation. She practically commanded her old mother to see if she could look for any clues about Chilchuckâs possible beau. With a knowing smile, she remarks that sheâs very happy to pay a visit to Melini.
Step 2 â Friends
âYou really think something that elaborate could work?!â Marcille Donato leans forward in her chair. Her eyes shine with a certain kind of joy at the idea of playing Cupid that amuses the matured half-foot significantly.
She nods. âI donât see anything else coming close to pushing them. Force might be the only way.â
A female tall-man, Falin if recalled correctly, squints and hums, tapping her finger on her chin as she tilts her head. Her brow furrows. âFrom what I know, Chilchuck seems to be more open, but⌠I donât know if he has the courage to be truly vulnerable in front of someone like that.â
âNo need to tell me twice,â his ex scoffs.
âOh!â The king, of all people, seems to have an epiphany. âWe could hold some sort of ball, encourage him to invite a plus one. That can work, right Kabru?â
All eyes turn to look at the advisor standing to the side, clearly enjoying the conversation but not wishing to intrude. He startles at the sudden attention, before clearing his throat behind his fist.
âIt will take some time to plan, but it could workâŚÂ You mentioned having three daughters, maâam, you can take one as a plus-one, and the two will take each other.â Heâs calm with his conclusion, which the half-foot woman can definitely respect.
âA banquet of all their favourite foods,â the dwarf Senshi, as food-brained as ever, sighs in daydream.
Kabru takes a step forward. âThough I have to ask,â he enquires, âis it really necessary to call upon all of the kingâs advisors and himself for a Cupid scheme?â
Silly boy. He doesnât yet realise the stakes.
If Chilchuck and you donât say something soon, then you may stay silent forever. This idea might be the best shot they have.
Step 3 â The Preparation
âWhatâs even the occasionâŚ?â Chilchuck sighs as he adjusts the sleeves of the formal outfit heâs wearing. Heâs definitely unused to something so high-class. Being invited as a guest of honour certainly isnât doing any favours either.
Not to mention, Laios was stupid enough to not even bestow upon you a guest of honour title! Chilchuck has to go through the means of inviting you as a plus one due to some âorganisational issuesâ, as Kabru put it.
What a load of crap.
âI âunno!â Puckpatti peeks her head around the corner to look at her father. âRoyals just seem to like their balls!â
âThis isnât one of your period romancesâŚâ Meijackâs voice rings from the other room too.
You sit with them, talking amongst one another. Flertomâs plus one remains a mystery to you, though she assures you that youâll meet with her when you get there. You can only assume itâs the girlsâ mother but you have no clue why sheâs so giggly and secretive about it.
âOn the contrary!â Flertom announces. âI think itâs exactly like a period romance. Maybe one of us will be swept into a dance so beguiling, you forget thereâs a whole ballroom of people!â
You squeal in surprise when Flertom takes your hands and pulls you out of your chair. You dance together in a fit of giggles. You only barely miss Chilchuck walking out to meet with you all, a fond smile on his face.
Little do you know, heâs thinking about what it would be like if joy like this could be shared in a household with the two of you.
âCome on now, settle. Apparently thereâs gonna be a carriage taking us to Melini. I couldnât fight against the theatrics, according to MarcilleâŚâ
âOh Papa!â Puckpatti sighs blissfully. âWe truly are living like nobles now! Maybe you can⌠ahâŚâ
Both you and Chilchuck spy her eyes darting towards her sisters with unsureness. How strange.
âYou can find⌠someone nice there!â
âNo, Patti.â Chilchuck shakes his head with a sigh. âIâm not gonna marry some rich dwarf.â
âYou are too cruel, Papa,â Flertom points out with a pout. âNo one will want you if you just keep saying no.â
As the three bicker, Meijack spares you a sympathetic glance, and she rolls her eyes. Her sisters hardly know subtlety. Finally she stands up and walks to your side.
âIâm glad youâre here with us,â she says with uncharacteristic softness; sheâs similar to her father like that. âPapa has good taste.â
You go red just as much as Chilchuck. For a moment, Flertom and Puckpatti wonder if their less romance-focused sister has some secret charisma sheâs been hiding up her sleeve this whole time. It seems to work though, as they chorus their agreements loudly.
âVery good taste!â
âTheir formal wear matches yours fashionably well!â
âJust as pretty as Ma too!â
âIf not prettier!â
The entire carriage ride to Melini was full of this type of chatter, asking questions about you and Chilchuckâs time together the whole way. A few times you had to clarify that you are only as close as the rest of your old party were close, but were only met with a few smug âmhmsâ and âsuresâ.
Chilchuck can only roll his eyes when he gets the chance to comment on it privately with you. âI have no idea whatâs up with them.â
âOh, cheer up!â You laugh softly. âIâm flattered that they like me.â
Chilchuck canât help but hear your laugh and chuckle along â music to his ears. â...Yeah, Iâm glad they like you too.â
âCome on! Ma is here to greet you two!â Flertomâs voice calls out.
The mastermind has been watching you and Chilchuck the whole time you approach. Her expression remains neutral, with the smallest sliver of a smile. Seems like the proximity has been lending itself quite well.
âWell, arenât you two a pair,â she greets you both. âReady to take the ball by storm.â
âYour jokes havenât gotten any better,â Chilchuck replies.
âAnd youâre still wearing the same shabby suit from sixteen years ago.â
Chilchuck flushes red once again and you canât help but laugh, patting his shoulder sympathetically as he hooks his arm through yours.
The watching half-foot knowingly grins. Yes, you two are definitely going to take it up a level after tonight.
Step 4 â Profit!
The ball came and went. It goes as typical as the dark-haired half-foot expects. What really is supposed to be a high-class noble event is a mask for foodies, romantics, and those looking for a fun time.
Senshiâs food was as wonderful as promised, and even if this was all done in the name of romance, Flertom and Puckpatti had to be held down from trying to approach the dwarf with lowered eyelids and twirled hair. Chilchuck doesnât need more heart palpitations than he already did.
She did her best to encourage Chilchuck to drink. She knows better than anyone that his tongue only loosened when he got enough alcohol in him. It hurts just a little, knowing that this is one of the only ways Chilchuck can be open with someone romantically.
The temptation did cross her to ask how Chilchuck views her now, but she stood against it. Itâs not the night for that.
By the time the party drew to a close, people were exhausted, drunk, in a food coma, or all of the above. The King had to be dragged over to his quarters, and Marcille had since passed out on Falinâs shoulder, whoâs bidding farewell to guests.
The dark-haired half-foot swirls the last of her wine in a glass as she stands outside, making small-talk with the tall-man. Itâs not until you stumble out with Chilchuck clinging to the fabric on your hip that she looks up.
âDo youââ
âNo need for help!â You reassure her with a grin. âHe always seems to get clingy with me when drunk, so Iâm kinda used to it at this point!â
Your laughter meets a knowing smile, not knowing exactly what sheâs so smug about. âYes, he seems to really like you.â
âI sure hope he does, considering heâs accepted my request to go on a date with him.â
Falin perks up enough to wake up the elf on her shoulder. âA date?â
The half-foot across from you is stunned into silence. It actually worked. The atmosphere and passion of it all actually egged you both on!
âCongratulations.â Youâve seen more emotion from the dark-haired woman than ever before. Her smile relaxed but her eyes shining, the lines underneath crinkling with happiness. âTreat him well, okay?â
âOf course,â you reply, and you lean forward a little. âThank you for your help. Kabru couldnât help but gossip to me.â
You wink and lean up again. Chilchuck at your side whines for your attention and you laugh, walking towards a carriage.
Safe travels were promised, and the dark-haired half-foot turns to the two blonde women.
The elf blinks slowly, red-faced from drink.
âDid we winâŚ?â
The two other women laugh. Stories must be exchanged the next time you all meet â especially on your end of things.
#⎠grimm's fics!#oh man this will be hell to tag#delicious in dungeon#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi imagines#delicious in dungeon imagines#dungeon meshi x reader#delicious in dungeon x reader#chilchuck#chilchuck tims#chilchuck x reader#chilchuck tims x reader#chilchuck imagines#chilchuck tims imagines#meijack chils#puckpatti chils#flertom chils#chilchuck's wife#yeah that'll do
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[CLICK FOR BETTER QUALITY!!!]
(Likes and Reblogs are appreciated!!)
Soooo I was sucked into Poppy Playtime again because of these goobers!! I donât think Iâve ever posted Poppy Playtime stuff on here before, buttt I think I will now, I just wish the fandom was a bit bigger and more lively lmao đ¤Ł
Catnap is my #1 favorite, then DogDay, then KC, and then Hoppy! I love the others too, but Bubba and Crafty are so hard to draw atm. I just need to practice more with them!đ
{Colorless Lines Below!!}
Headcannons for them below too!!!
âââââââ
Some headcannons in the show universe cause Iâm feeling fun:
- Catnap is the youngest! DogDay is the oldest of the crew! Their age order goes (oldest to youngest) DogDay, Bubba, Picky, Kickin, Crafty, Bobby, Hoppy, Catnap!
- Catnap doesnât talk much, but he can. Just with a low voice that tends to be calming, and very sweet sounding. He usually just points, says short answers like yes or no, and nods.
- While Kickin (or KC) is the most egocentric and confident, Hoppy is the most energetic and tends to like talking peopleâs heads off, which causes them to butt heads at times, all while Picky tends to be the usual third wheel, often just quietly eating.
- Crafty is the most creative while Bubba is the most thoughtful and intelligent, which usually allows them to have deep, meaningful conversations of the wonders of life together.
-Crafty is the shyest out of the bunch, usually drawing with Catnap calmly, sharing her creations with him or hanging out with Bubba.
- Bobby and Picky tend to share their love for the world together, usually playing dress up with each other, talking about crushes. or cooking of course! Bobby always has something lovely to share and Picky, in contrast to her name, always is open to trying something new, as long as she thinks she may like it.
- In contrast to the canon, all of the crew just magically woke up in the Playcare, with no memories of before they opened their eyes to the colorful world around them. DogDay and Bubba were the first to appear, Picky, Crafty and Kickin spawning after, Bobby and Hoppy spawning together and Catnap spawning alone. There seems to be no way out, so the crew just embraces their situation and tries their best to not think about it too much.
- Catnap was the last and most unexpected to spawn in. From the time he opened his eyes to the new world around him, he had felt like something was off, like he didnât belong there. While most of the others treated him nice, some of the crew were uneasy about his sudden appearance, seemingly years after the last of the previous arrivals had spawned in.
- Catnap begins to grow close to DogDay, almost becoming like his little brother. They spend the most time together, due to DDs kindness and warm welcoming energy towards him on his arrival! Also them both noticing they wore opposite necklaces, Cat being the moon and DD being the sun helped with that connection too!
- Kickin doesnât really like or trust Catnap much, and doesnât try to hide it, making snarky remarks and comments to clearly express his dislike for him.
- Catnap is super playful with the others, his best friends being Dog Day, Hoppy and Crafty! He tends to move like a ghost, the crew not usually noticing they are in his presence until they turn around! A lot of times, he hangs by his tail on the trees to say hello, or can be found in the fields laying in the grass and sleeping.
- Cat can sleep anywhere that is a surface, and is not wet.
- Every once and while, Cat swears he can see a skinny, metallic hand in the shadows, beckoning his attention. Heâs tried to bring it up to the others, but they either think heâs acting weird, insane, or tell him not to worry about it.
âââââââ
If you want to hear more, my asks are open!!! And I will be drawing them inbetween my Absolutely Chapters for Murder Drones, which I am STILL working on and Chapter 4 is coming out soon!! Promise, I didnât forget, things have just been busy!!
ALSOOOOO New Murder Drones Comic for King Solver N coming this weekend đđđ Perhaps some angst or something fun?
#poppy playtime#smilling critters#poppy playtime smiling critters#poppy playtime catnap#catnap#DogDay#artists on tumblr#digital art#fan art#dog day#kickinchicken#craftycorn#hoppy hopscotch#bobby bearhug#bubba bubbaphant#picky piggy#PoppyPlaycareAU#< that is what this AU is called for now#starryinkartwork
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