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lauraneedstochill · 1 year

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The object of my desires

summary: You overhear Aemond making a snarky remark about the way you dress. You decide to teach him a lesson.

warnings: friends to lovers (both are idiots), a dash of angst, Aegon gets punched (but he redeems himself), a lot of teasing, things get very heated (NSFW: it is smut but not very detailed so don't get your hopes up), with a sprinkle of softness

words: ~6500 (it was supposed to be shorter but they started making out...)

author's note: the idea first popped into my head months ago when I saw this post. also, for the longest time I've been thinking that “you are the bane of my existence” monologue is a perfect fit for Aemond — and yet I haven't seen a single fic * using that quote?! so I finally decided to give it a try.

If anyone asked you to describe your relationship with Aemond, you would’ve said that the two of you were almost friendly. The almost part was the trickiest one to explain because, even though both of you acted very content with the way of things, you still couldn’t help but think that you wanted something more, no matter how much you’ve tried to deny it.

You got to know him through Helaena who you befriended when you were ten and six. A year older than you, she was the weird girl no one wanted to talk to and you approached her out of curiosity but soon learned that she had a cheerful nature and quite a nimble mind. She loved your sharp sense of humor and energetic wit and the two of you became close, your contrasting personalities complimenting each other very well.

Your introduction to her brothers was brief and for a couple of months, you didn’t interact with either of them. She’s been married to Aegon for four years back then and even though he immediately didn’t strike you as a faithful husband — always a cup away from being wasted and shamelessly gazing at every maid’s legs — he mostly looked harmless. Aemond, however, was the exact opposite — guarded and collected, he kept his distance from everyone, making it clear that it was his choice. You could only get a good look at the prince when you were passing the training yard, and a couple of times you found your gaze lingering on him — on the lean body and tense muscles, on the way he moved the sword with ease. In those moments you felt the danger radiating off him, yet it never scared you away. But you knew better than to fawn over the prince who seemingly paid you no mind.

A significant change came on the evening of Aegon’s ten and ninth birthday which Helaena begged you to come to — you weren’t fond of big events but couldn’t say no to her. For the most part, the feast was tolerable as you’ve spent it by her side, making glib remarks about the guests, much to your friend’s amusement. But when the celebration died down and all the nobles began to disperse, Aegon, drunk out of his mind, decided to make advances toward his wife whom he ignored for the duration of the evening. His approach was harsh and unexpected, and the look on Helaena’s face shuttered your heart.

“Your grace, your manners escape you,” you tried warning him, shielding your friend but Aegon was too wasted to notice your fiery gaze. In his inebriated state, he probably mistook you for a maid as he grabbed your arm in an effort to shove you aside. Next thing you know, your fist connected with his nose — and then Aegon was lying on the floor, eyes wide and blood gushing down his face as you stood next to him, fuming. Before he could think of an answer, Aemond appeared out of nowhere — just in time to drag his brother away, while the drunkard was hurling insults at you in a frenzy. Only when they left, it dawned on you what you just did.

You expected for the king’s guard to come for your head in the morrow, but instead, a few surprising things happened. First, you learned that the boys didn’t rat you out, making it look like they were the ones who got into a fight. Aegon did apologize to Helaena and from that day, his temper softened as he never dared to repeat his mistake. But, most importantly, Aemond took a sudden interest in you.

Overall, his behavior stayed the same, but you regularly caught him looking in your direction, and every time you saw each other, he made sure to acknowledge your presence. He never initiated the conversation first, only sometimes curtly voicing his opinion, yet you noticed him paying attention to your chattering with Helaena — and you could swear that a few times he suppressed a laugh at your jokes.

The mystery veil that the prince was surrounded with sparked your curiosity, and you wanted to crack down his guard, to get a chance to know him. The opportunity presented itself one day when Helaena and you came to watch Aemond train. You saw him and Criston arguing as the prince was late to his studies but Cole refused to let Aemond leave until he wins the last bout. Whether he wasn’t in the right mood or had something distracting him, Aemond kept losing, and his teacher only pushed him further, relentless in his attempts.

“Ser Criston, you’re putting yourself in harm's way,” you chimed in, making the man turn to you with a chuckle, while Aemond gave you a tired look.

“May it be that the finest swordsman of the realm is simply avoiding his responsibilities?” you suggested with a light grin.

“Mayhaps he is in need of some encouragement, lady Y/N,” Cole teased.

“Well, I would've volunteered to share the burden of learning with him,” you remark. “If only he could win this one bout,” you added, keeping eye contact with the prince.

It took Aemond about two minutes to knock his opponent to the ground which made Helaena gasp in surprise while you were trying to hide a smile. Without a word, Aemond came to you, and the two of you went to the library. On your way there, he kept silent, but you were not intimidated at all. When you walked into the room, Aemond hesitated as if giving you a chance to change your mind. But you boldly turned to him:

“If you mean to scare me with the prospect of studying, I should warn you that I've read more books than you can count,” you informed the prince.

It was the first time when you saw him smiling — widely and shamelessly, looking very smug.

“You are full of surprises, my lady,” he grinned. “Do you mean to challenge me?”

It turned out that Aemond liked challenges, and you enjoyed being one. Since that day, you got into the habit of joining him in the library and the prince would accompany you in his free time more often than not. You would dare him to read faster, to fight harder, to engage in conversations — or sometimes to simply have fun. Whenever you had a reason to disagree with him, he was always respectful and found himself entertained by your way of thinking, which made your discussions and even arguments span for hours.

As years went by, you kept playfully bantering back and forth, and Helaena told you that you were the only one allowed to act like that around her brother. You couldn’t understand what his motives were but it was hard to deny that his company was pleasant. Aemond grew up into quite an eligible bachelor and his attention did flatter you, even though he never crossed the line. Sometimes you even dared to entertain the thought that maybe — just maybe — Aemond had a soft spot for you.

Until one day things took a turn.

Helaena’s twentieth birthday was meant to be just another celebration that you would’ve skipped if it wasn’t for her. The only way for you to pass the time was dancing which you’ve actually come to love in recent years, enjoying the rhythm of the music that helped to lighten your mood. Your dear friend mostly preferred to sit back so you were often compelled to find yourself a company that would be bearable, at the very least.

That evening, you got acquainted with Jacaerys Velaryon, the boy being younger than you but a foot taller. He approached you with a small smile on the pretext of knowing Helaena, and you soon learned that he was a good dancer. But the best thing about Jace was that he spend most of his time talking about his betrothed, Baela, who he was absolutely smitten with. The girl sadly couldn’t be present as she had to stay with her dad, who recently sailed home, and the dark-haired boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut. All the time while dancing he was either gushing about her or asking your advice, which you found adorable and gladly chatted with him.

Throughout the feast, you felt Aemond looking at you, probably more than usual. You knew that he wasn't fond of dancing and even though his gaze on you felt rather good, deep down you wished that he was the one you were spending time with. After a couple of hours, however, you saw his usual spot empty, and the prince was nowhere to be found. For some reason, you got a very bad feeling and, after leaving Jace to take a break, you went to Helaena. She informed you that Aemond left not so long ago, adding that it looked like her brother was upset about something.

That's how you ended up roaming through the castle halls, giving in to the unsettling feeling churning in your stomach. Passing by one of the chambers, you suddenly hear voices and realize that it's Aemond talking to his brother. You don’t mean to eavesdrop and were about to turn around — but then Aegon mentions your name.

“You are foolish to wait for so long. You could’ve at least asked Y/N for a dance,” his remark is followed by gulping sounds. Is he ever without a cup? You hold back a giggle — which quickly disappears when you hear Aemond’s answer:

“I prefer not to waste my time on such futile activities,” and his voice is unexpectedly grim.

“You may want to reconsider when the lady has every man’s attention. Even the Velaryon boy was pretty much drooling,” he chuckles, and his words make your brows furrow as you are certain he has no ground to suggest that. You’re a moment away from drowning in doubts, but the younger prince brings you back to reality.

“I suppose it's hard not to, with the way she's been dressing lately,” Aemond deadpans.

He says it with a flat tone — yet it feels like a punch that knocks all of the air out of your lungs. There's a brief pause — and Aegon sounds almost sober when he asks, with a hint of surprise in his voice:

“And what about her dresses?”

“I found them to be... rather bawdy. Although I’m not impressed in the slightest,” Aemond forces out.

Your heart sinks at his words, cheeks heating up. You wait for him to say anything else, to give an explanation, at least one reason for his accusations but there is none. Aegon laughs — and you feel sick to your stomach, realizing that you cannot bear listening to their conversation any longer.

You walk away as quietly as possible, with cotton feet and your hands shaking. You rush past the hall and out of the castle, tears pricking in your eyes. Only once you're all alone, embraced by the silence of the night, you take a deep breath of air. Aemond’s words are ringing in your ears, loud and clear. You look down at your dress in disbelief: the neckline is basically non-existent, your arms are fully covered, and it barely shows any skin at all. And yet he thinks this is inappropriate?

Your cheeks are wet and burning yet you feel anger bubbling in your chest. You never thought Aemond could be cruel — and yet it’s him, out of all people, who let those vile words slip out of his mouth like they meant nothing. Like you meant nothing to him. For years, you heard people calling him cold-hearted and arrogant but you were naive to believe that the prince made an exception for you. Out of all the mistakes you’ve made so far, this one might’ve been the most painful one.

Your outrage spreads like a wildfire as you think back to every interaction you’ve had with Aemond, his every glance and every word that fooled you into thinking that he cared. Was he secretly criticizing you the whole time? How many other jokes did he make behind your back? Who even gave him the right to judge whether your dresses are acceptable or not? As if he is any different from all the other men whose brains turn into mush when they get a glimpse of a female body.

You stop dead in your tracks when an idea suddenly forms in your head. It’s very uncharacteristic of you — at first, you hesitantly brush it off, thinking that it’s not wise to make any emotional decisions. And yet the idea keeps nagging at you for the remainder of the night and for a few hours you ponder if you should take such a brazen approach. But then his unkind remark pops back in your memory — over and over and over.

By the time the morning comes, you make up your mind.

He says he isn’t impressed in the slightest? There is only one way to find out for sure.

On the very next day, you take Helaena for a walk in the garden, well aware that her brothers will accompany you as Aegon doesn’t have anything else to do and Aemond prefers to take a stroll after his training. Your dress is close-fitted yet modest, not an inch shorter than necessary. It is not about the dress but what’s underneath it — and the object in question clinks lightly with your every step. You show it to Helaena right away and she finds it delightful, the jingling only making her smile. Then her siblings come to join you, you curtsy but barely spare Aemond a glance. You don’t ask a single question about his day, instead taking interest in Aegon. The older prince gives you a suspicious side-eye but welcomes the chatting. It doesn’t take long before he notices the sound, too.

“Am I the only one who can hear the clinking? I am almost certain that it’s not just in my head,” he debates.

“Oh, it’s Y/N’s doing,” Helaena beams unsuspectingly.

“Apologies, my prince, it’s my aunt’s gift that caught your ear,” you slow down and take a few seconds to make sure you’ve got everyone’s attention.

And then, with one gentle motion, you pull up your dress — ever so slightly, just enough to show your ankle and the thin bracelet wrapped around it. The jewelry is made out of gold and it instantly catches the sunlight, casting warm sparkles on your skin. It’s decorated with tiny coins which make a jingling sound as you slowly turn your leg from side to side.

“I thought it was rather pretty. Don’t you think?” you only look at Aegon.

“Umm yes,” he gulps. “Rather pretty it is,” the prince mumbles, and then his gaze shifts to someone else. You don’t need to turn your head to know who he’s looking at. Instead, you continue with your walk without a care in the world.

“I should ask my aunt to bring you a similar one, my dear,” you suggest to Helaena and she eagerly agrees.

You have a few other gifts for Aemond, too.

Next time you opt for a different bracelet — with no coins and no jingling, a simple golden chain. But your dress is a tad bit shorter and the jewelry catches everyone’s eye with ease as it looks like a ray of light curled around your ankle. You deliberately walk through the training yard, arm-in-arm with Helaena. You give Ser Christon the brightest smile, and he politely nods in your direction.

“Good morrow, ladies.”

“How's your training coming along, Ser Criston?” you ask, and it feels strange to talk to him instead of Aemond. You bitterly remind yourself that you apparently overstated the value of those conversations.

“I'm afraid, we are hardly progressing. Mayhaps you will keep us company? I fear, we are in need of some cheerful words,” Cole shoots a glance at the prince who stands by, his eye fixed on you.

“Aren’t we all, Ser Criston,” you tilt your head at him. “But it seems like my pursuit of lessening your burden did nothing good,” and before he can ask anything else, you walk away, ignoring Aemond completely.

Helaena senses that something is off, giving you a worried look:

“Is there anything troubling you, Y/N?”

“Not when I'm with you, my friend,” you reassure her and force your smile to look as believable as possible.

Partially, it is true as her company always brings you joy and you don’t want to sour her mood by recalling Aemond's words that wounded your pride. You refuse to admit that he also grazed your heart.

In a week, you accept Helaena’s invitation to join them for breakfast and you decide to up your game. It's the perfect time of year for sleeveless dresses but the one you pick also has a daring addition: two thin cuts under your armpits. They are barely visible but when you put your arms up, it's easy to distinguish the contour of your ribcage and the softness of your skin peeking through.

You sit by Helaena's side, easily keeping up with the conversation and not glancing at Aemond once. After the food is taken away and everyone starts wandering around the room, you get up to fix your hair, standing not too far away from the dining table as you raise your hands and run your fingers into your hairdo.

“May I offer assistance?” Aegon leans on the wall next to you, his mouth curling into a smile.

You roll your eyes and are about to shush him when he quietly adds:

“I know what you are doing,” you turn your gaze to him, and he winks at you. “From the look on my brother’s face, I can tell you that it’s working.”

You fight the urge to look at Aemond.

“I’m afraid I can’t share your concerns,” you are fiddling with hairpins absentmindedly.

Aegon shoots a glance over your shoulder and then back at you:

“He seems pretty bothered to me. Also pissed, but that may be my doing.”

“Look at you, my little helper,” you ramble as the cool air sneaks into the cuts of your dress, and you slightly quaver.

“Well, if you are ever in need of a helping hand...”

“I will not hesitate to stick this pin into your eye,” you cut him off.

“No need!” Aegon throws up his hands, cackling. “I'd like to keep them both. So I can have a better look at my brother’s reaction when you do... whatever you plan on doing,” the shit-eating grin on his face tells you that he is enjoying this.

But when you turn around and suddenly make eye contact with Aemond, your own enjoyment fades. You notice his frown and the probability of you being the reason for it doesn’t bring any satisfaction. You let Helaena lead you away, feeling his gaze on your back as you walk out.

You do not yield to your emotions, continuing with your plan, as days turn into weeks, and then a month goes by without you as much as sharing a word with Aemond. Truth be told, you want nothing more than to stay away from him at all costs but you will not give him the satisfaction. He said he didn’t like the way you dress — and you make sure he sees every single dress you are in. You stay within the bounds of decency as you definitely have no intention to disgrace yourself, and none of your dresses are borderline scandalous, contrary to what any prince may think. You deign to let him see the curve of your neck with your hair up high, the bending of your shoulders and the sunkissed skin of your arms, the arc of your knees and mere glimpses of the upper part of your legs. You leave the rest to his imagination — granted, he has a good one considering how much time he spends reading.

During the second month, his patience starts running out.

In the years you've known Helaena, you learned all the ins and outs of the castle, so you manage to avoid Aemond at first, vanishing from his sight when needed. But, as time passes, you notice that he is tempted to talk to you, and escaping that possibility becomes harder with each day. One morning, when you walk into the yard, Aemond abruptly stops his training upon seeing you, and the two of you just stare at each other for a second, both startled and holding your breath. You are saved by Ser Criston, who calls for the prince, distracting him, giving you a chance to leave, and you all but run away.

After that day, you temporarily cease your visits to the castle, deciding to take a break and make up weak excuses to Helaena. Only now that you were apart, you realize how much you miss Aemond’s physical presence. His sudden, fleeting touches — to help you out of a carriage or to steady you after a fit of laughter, your hands brushing when you share books, his fingers sometimes lightly grazing your waist for the reason you are yet to know. You haven't talked to him for days, let alone felt him in your close proximity, and yet he's constantly on your mind. Somewhere in the midst of it all, you wake up at night realizing you yearn for him terribly. You wish you could go back to that damn evening of the feast, to confront him right away, to maybe get some clarification. But now too much time has passed and you’re too wrapped up in... whatever you plan on doing, so your ego insists that giving up isn’t an option.

When you receive the invitation for Aegon’s name day, you are ready to decline, but then begrudgingly decide to give it one last chance. You practice the look of indifference, the nonchalant tone, the proud gait, and you pull out your best dress. It’s green and the color is so bright, it dazzles the eyes, the material light and flowing — and yet, when you put it on, it feels incomplete. As you look in the mirror, the vivid tone of the fabric suddenly reminds you of something else. It’s a secret you once heard, a hushed conversation between the maids, one of which walked in on the prince when he wasn’t wearing his eyepatch. You only ponder for a minute and then reach for the jewelry piece that definitely will be hard not to notice.

The castle is crowded, and you are one of the last guests to arrive. Bracing yourself, you pause at the door for a second. Ser Harrold, who stands there, lets out a surprised hum.

“Should I take that as a sign of your disapproval?” you jest, watching his reaction.

“I wouldn’t dare to judge,'” he gives you a polite smile. “But I'm afraid all the men present are at risk of losing reason.”

His comment makes you chuckle and you step a bit closer, letting him take a better look:

“I thought it would match the occasion. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Ser Harrold, gods bless him, keeps his eyes on your face:

“As always, it is, lady Y/N.”

It gives you enough confidence to walk in, appearing in all your glory.

The dress is a perfect fit, with a slit down your right side and an open back. The front neckline isn't deep but in the middle of it there's a thin silver chain with a big, glittering sapphire — and the gem lays perfectly between your breasts. It’s only natural that everyone’s gaze is immediately drawn to the blue spark, all the men in the room gazing at it, voluntarily and not. But the effect their attention has is nothing compared to the wave of heat that warms your body when you feel a very particular gaze finally landing on you. You look right at him — and you catch him gawking, his lips slightly parted as he stares at the sapphire, too, almost in a trance. His hand is gripping a cup of wine with such force, you can see the whitening of his knuckles. When Aemond sharply glances up, your eyes lock for a second, and you look away first. So much for him not being impressed.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jace waving at you to come sit with him, and you do not hesitate, letting the one-eyed prince out of sight.

You feel like his eye doesn't leave you for a second.

You are barely able to sit still while dining and let out a sigh of relief when it's time for dancing. You rush away from the table, thinking it will provide you with a distraction, and you will be glad for any partner if only he can move his legs and keep his mouth shut. You go to the end of the line, lost in your thoughts, and when you finally come to a stop and look to the other side — you see Aemond standing in front of you.

The tall prince with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing all black, stares at you in a way that makes the crowd around you disappear.

When the dance starts, you step toward each other, and he speaks up first.

“I couldn't help but notice your absence, lady Y/N. I find myself wondering what is the reason behind it,” his hand briefly touches yours, your bodies following the music.

“Your question is confusing, my prince. As I was merely doing you a favor,” you swap partners but Aemond only looks at you.

“Your leaving hardly favors me,” the prince says when you’re in his arms again. You feel a flicker of anger rising inside but keep your voice down.

“I was actually counting on you being relieved,” you snort, not looking at him. “Since, as it turned out, you were so displeased with my bawdy dresses,” with these words, you step away from him once more.

A minute later you come back to his side but don’t let him say a thing.

“I've always thought bawdy was just another word for a whore. So I suppose I should be glad that you at least had some decency to not stoop so low,” when your eyes meet, you think you've never seen him so hurt.

Before he can come up with an answer, you are out of his reach. Then you circle back to Aemond again, and this time your tone comes out hasher.

“I also wonder if you would be so brave to say all that to my face. But it seems that your bravery falters when confronted with the need to speak plainly.”

The rhythm of the music works in your favor, because whenever Aemond tries opening his mouth, you’re swooped away from him, and it gives you time to tighten your self-control. You think you should resent him for his silly words, for his heavy gaze, for him knowing how to dance even though he never once did that with you in all these years.

But you have no resentment for him. All of a sudden you realize what you are actually feeling.

And then the dance comes to an end.

You only curtsy out of politeness, averting your gaze:

“I will not vex you anymore, my prince.”

“Y/N, wait, I should —,” he tries to take your hand but you swerve away from him.

“I already promised the next dance to someone else,” you lie. “You are finally free of my company.”

At that very second, when you glance at him before leaving, he looks absolutely heartbroken. Or maybe you just imagined it in an attempt to ease your own pain.

Your feet carry you to the library on their own accord, and you’re too distraught to notice until you are already inside, in the dusty silence of the endless shelves. You take a hold of the nearest one, trying to catch your breath. You barely get a minute of solitude before you hear footsteps approaching. And it’s kind of pathetic how easy it is for you to guess who it is.

“Your tendency to run away from me is quite unnerving,” Aemond walks in with rapid strides, his voice laced with emotion you can’t read.

His words, however, trigger your reaction in no time.

“Maybe it is because I do not want to be in the company of someone who hurt me,” you turn to him, and he’s already only a couple of meters away. The dim lighting illuminates his silver hair, the outline of his broad shoulders, his eye is boring into you. He looks so beautiful in his frustration, your chest tightens at the sight.

“I would've apologized right away if only you let me speak,” the prince retorts.

“Did something hold you back from apologizing sooner? Or were you too preoccupied with being outraged by my clothing choices?” your heart skips a bit at the intensity of his stare but you refuse to break the eye contact.

“I never said I was outraged.”

“You weren't thrilled, either, you made that very clear.”

“You know nothing of my motives because you refuse to listen to me!” he raises his voice and it startles you. But he doesn’t sound angry.

Aemond is standing at arm’s length — and you can clearly see that his face expresses no signs of annoyance or hatred. Instead, he looks at you with longing.

The air in the room feels heavy.

You run your tongue over your lips to moisten them, and Aemond’s eye darts to your mouth.

“We can agree on one thing,” he drawls, his eye locking with yours again as he moves closer. You take a step back — and feel pressed against one of the shelves.

He speaks with his tone low:

“...You vex me to no end.”

With another step, Aemond towers over you, and when you look up, your faces are only inches apart, and his flaming gaze envelops you.

“You are the bane of my existence,” Aemond breathes out. “And the object of all my desires,” his voice breaks, and you feel him inhaling sharply.

His words are akin to a match that lights up a fire deep in you, the muscles of your stomach tightening involuntarily. With one finger he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you can’t help but lean into his touch, your breathing shuddering.

“I’m haunted by your image everywhere I go,” he rasps, his nose brushing yours. “Night and day, I dream of you,” his index finger moves under your chin, close to the pulsating point on your neck. You feel the heat spilling into the pit of your belly, and you want nothing more than for Aemond to kiss you.

“I was raised to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread every minute I spend in your presence,” he whispers vehemently, his words hot against your mouth.

You are dizzy, breathless — and craving him. Everything else is forgotten, erased, nonexistent. It’s just you two.

“You are all I can think about,” you confess with a strangled voice, looking at Aemond through your lashes — and it sets him off.

His lips capture yours in an instant, claiming and burning with need. He pulls you closer, his hands on your back, and yours go up his shoulders to lock behind his neck. Aemond kisses you deeply, hungrily, sweeping his tongue over your lower lip and then sliding it in, intertwining with yours. One of his palms moves lower, outlining the curve of your hip, glides over your leg — and into the slit of your dress. He grabs your thigh, his thumb landing on the inner side of it, and he starts slowly massaging small circles on it. Him touching your bare skin elicits a moan from you and in the heat of the moment, as your mind goes blank and you can only focus on the pleasuring sensation, you spread your legs, and his finger slips higher — to the place where you want him the most.

He breaks the kiss in surprise, and you wait for it to dawn on him. To realize that you are, in fact, completely naked under the dress. You can feel arousal pooling between your legs, your body prickling with anticipation.

“I was under the impression that you owe me an apology,” you unabashedly murmur, looking him straight in the eye.

You don't know if it's a challenge or a plea — at this point, you do not care. Apparently, neither does Aemond, as he takes no time hoisting your leg up to his waist for better access, firmly holding it in place. Your respite barely lasts a few seconds before you feel his other hand cupping your sex, rubbing his fingers through your folds. You shut your eyes, gasping for air, as he unhurriedly smears your wetness — and then his finger dips into your core, the sensation making you shiver.

“Aemond,” you sign, your body trembling with desire.

Trying to inhale, you get a whiff of aroma, a mix of leather and salty ocean breeze — and all at once, you are surrounded by him. His scent, his warmth, his scorching touches, the taste that's left on your lips. He leaks into your every cell.

Aemond nuzzles into the crook of your neck, leaving wet kisses there, his finger picking up the pace.

“I've missed you,” he avows. “So fucking much,” he lightly nibbles the skin above your collarbone. “Missed hearing you say my name. Say it again.”

He doesn't need to ask twice — and the interweaving of letters rolls off your tongue with each breath:

“Aemond”

“Aemond.”

His name fills your mouth, leaving no space for air, your throat tight and breathing rapid. Aemond’s lips move down to your shoulder.

“Oh, the things I want to do to you,” he haltingly rambles, and the implication makes you clench around him, dragging a low groan from the prince.

He leaves a trail of kisses following the silver chain down to your breasts. The gem feels cold in contrast to your skin, and even though your head is clouded with lust, it triggers a memory. You move one of your shaking hands to his face, guiding it up to look at you again.

“I want to see the real thing,” you whisper, gazing at his eyepatch. “Let me. Please, let me.”

His hand between your legs doesn't stop its movement but the one on your thigh trembles. You are too caught up in the moment to think straight, and before he can answer, your fingers roughly remove the leather patch.

The sapphire glows like a beacon, the cold blue of it is dazzling and piercing through your blurred vision. The tones and shadows are interlacing, cyan melting into azure and dark blue, and it’s mesmerizing. Seeing him like this, stripped of his restrain and his disguise, is the most intimate, precious thing in the world.

“Gods, you are divine,” you moan, panting.

You catch a flash of emotion in his eye — before you can take another breath, his lips are on yours again. This kiss is steady and fervent, and while his mouth melts into yours, Aemond adds a second finger. It slides in with ease, and he builds up the speed that makes you swallow air. He’s terrifyingly good with his fingers, with his every move, precise and fast.

“Aemond,” you whimper in his mouth, but his lips keep chasing yours, and you can only follow, letting him take your breath away again and again. You lose track of time, lose yourself in his arms. His face is always close to yours, he breathes in every moan you make and keeps his gaze on you, watching you squirm, your cheeks flushed and lips quivering.

You helplessly whisper his name, and it comes out as a prayer, the coil in your stomach ready to snap. Aemond gives you a breathless smile:

“You do not need to beg me, ever,” he says in a husky voice. “I will give you anything you want,” with these words, he presses a thumb on your clit, resuming the well-known circling motion, making you choke on air.

It takes merely a few seconds for you to come undone, the wave of pleasure blinding and crushing over you. His lips are at the corner of your mouth, ready to cover it should you make any loud sound, but you drop your head back, mouth falling slack in a silent cry.

His fingers slow the pace until you let out a quiet whine, and he removes them, carefully lowering your leg. You feel fuzzy-headed, trying to catch your breath, a few beads of sweat rolling along your hairline. One of his hands gently falls on your back, rubbing soothing patterns on your skin.

“I truly am sorry, Y/N,” Aemond admits.

You chuckle lightly:

“I think you already made it up to me.”

Despite the hint of humor, there's an anxious feeling stirring in your abdomen, and you are afraid to open your eyes to meet his. You don't know what's to come and you dread the emptiness that will follow if he leaves.

Aemond tenderly cups your face with his hand:

“Mayhaps my intentions were not clear enough. I do plan to properly court you,” your eyes snap open at his words.

There's a brief pause before he adds:

“But I still need to apologize for my behavior because you deserved none of it. I was unfair with my judgment as I let jealousy get the best of me,” he sounds genuinely remorseful.

You glance at him in confusion, the gears turning in your head for a moment, and then you realize:

"You were jealous of Jace?!"

Aemond looks down at the floor, and there's something endearing in his evident embarrassment. With your thumb and index finger you caress the jut of his jaw and make him look at you again:

“Aemond, I can barely consider him a friend. And the boy can only think about Baela, he speaks of her as if she is the light of his life.”

“I know that feeling," Aemond doesn’t hide his smile anymore when he’s with you. He brings your hand to his lips, and the sincerity of his words tugs at your heart. He leaves kisses on your knuckles, and you’re overwhelmed with happiness spreading in your chest.

“Do you get that feeling every time we argue? Or when I challenge you?” you inquire with a giggle.

His laugh vibrates against your skin. When Aemond meets your gaze, there are no doubts and reservations left, no room for denial.

“My biggest challenge was not to fall in love with you. I failed miserably,” he puts both of his hands on your waist, drawing you closer. “But I will humble myself before you because I cannot stand the thought of us being apart ever again,” Aemond presses his forehead against yours.

“I don't plan on it,” you trace his scar with your finger, giving him goosebumps. “But you do know there still will be days when we vex each other to no end?” your voice is barely audible.

He moves his mouth to yours and, before bringing your lips together, he whispers:

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And neither would you.

the author doesn’t know how to shut up: — the dress is from “Atonement” (although I imagined her neckline a bit differently) — I haven’t written smut in a very long time so... I hope it was okay? any thoughts and comments will be very appreciated because I’m super nervous about this 🥺 (not gonna lie, this was kinda self-indulgent so I hope that at least some of you will enjoy it, too!)

* I know there is an amazing fic called “bane of my existence, object of my desire” by @ jasonsmirrorball — I love it to pieces and highly recommend it! 💕 💚 my masterlist English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

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anjellaufeyson · 2 months

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I could treat you better - Bellamy Blake

Time stamp: 1:38

My boyfriend was lovely–his friend wasn’t. Bellamy Blake was the rudest man I’ve ever come across; I only tolerated him for my boyfriend.

Murphy kissed me before he got pulled away for work, he was doing guard watch. I sighed, why couldn’t Bellamy do this? He always had Murphy doing everything for him, and I’m sick of it. Whenever Muphy comes back to our tent he’s exhausted or too tired to even spend time with me. I left my tent and walked inside Bellamy’s, he was shirtless and a girl was lying on his bed. I immediately left with a disgusted look on my face.

Soon he came out searching for me, “What do you want, princess?”

I palmed my face while we strolled together through Arkadia, “I’d prefer if you wouldn’t call me that, Blake. Especially since some people say that when they’re together.”

He tilted his head, his eyes gazing into mine, he glanced down with a bit of a smile, “Right, whatever you say, princess.”

The need to correct and argue with him was there but I ignored it for the sake of Murphy. “okay–can you please stop keeping my boyfriend working late? I’m aware of how things are, like it or not I’m one of the smart ones and I think he’s being overworked and–”

Bellamy’s face showed confusion in itself, “Murphy gets off at the same time as everyone else. I work the late nights, I’m who stays up all night, every night.”

I stopped moving, trying to process my indecision and incoming sense of betrayal. “Wait, you haven’t been keeping Murphy late or hanging out with him late?”

He shook his head and crossed his arms, his muscles clenching to his tight shirt. His veins popping out. My eyes tore away, my emotions were my only focus. “No, I don’t think anyone has. We’ve been on a lockdown since Clarke went missing.”

My brain racked everything Murphy’s ever told me since he began ‘working’ late. I thought of the girl I assumed he had a relationship with but when I questioned him, he brushed me off. Out of anger, I took off leaving Bellamy, who ended up following behind me calling for my name. I moved the tent side and immediately saw Murphy and the girl kissing. They stopped once they noticed me and how distraught I looked.

I backed up and accidentally bumped into Bellamy’s chest, I didn’t cry. I felt like I should cry, my body begged to cry, but when you did here–it made you seem weak. And I’d never want Murphy to see me cry even though my heart did in return. I turned and tried to shield myself with Bellamy’s chest, but hesitantly he put his arms around me. Trying to comfort me but I knew we both detested each other. He never liked me with Murphy for a reason I am unaware of, and I just never liked him. He brushed his hand up and down my back, almost in circular motions.

Murphy’s voice appeared from behind me but I didn’t dare to look back because I felt so vulnerable, I knew I would cry. “I need to talk with her, I can explain!”

Bellamy stepped in, holding me closer. His voice was demanding, his tone was deep, “Murphy, you should go. Now. If she wants to talk to you, she’ll do it later.”

I could hear Murphy protesting before easily giving up, he didn’t care to try. I pushed away from Bellamy who almost looked shocked at how quickly I switched up.

We had to go on a mission, and I found myself in a difficult position. A hand covered my mouth and once I realized I didn’t know the person whose hand it was I began to get a bit scared. I tried to fight them off but couldn’t–it had to be a grounder.

The grounder pulled a sword on me and dug into my back, but not enough to hurt me but it pierced the skin. He pushed me onto my knees where my friends were–including Bellamy. The whole hunting group was in. Murphy seemed nervous. I guess I should be too, especially since it’s my life on the line.

“Who’s valuable to her?”

What an odd fucking question–is this supposed to be leverage? Might as well let me die.

Bellamy not even a second later stepped forward, “She’s with me, that’s my girlfriend.” He spoke so truthfully that even everyone we knew was aware he was lying through his teeth.

“What are you willing to give me in turn for her life?”

His eyes almost turned vulnerable, his words coming off as pathetic as his tone came off as pleads. “What do you want?”

The grounder moved the sword which caused me to wince, “I want Wanheda.” Everyone shared a confused glance, who is that? “Give her to me and I won’t kill her.”

“Take me instead, she has a better chance of getting through to Wanheda than me.” What is he doing? He’s going to get himself killed–I’m aware he can handle himself but this is almost suicidal. The grounder pushed me into Bellamy’s arms. He squeezed my hand for the quickest second and moved to the grounder who hit him immediately.

I wanted to help him but I didn’t know how to, Bellamy could’ve attacked but stayed down, taking another punch with ease. I stepped forward but he put his hand up, “Don’t,” he demanded while blood ran down his cheek.

Why was he willing to do this for me? We’ll never find her, I mouthed. He did a tiny nod. They need you, I mouthed once more. He got kicked in his ribs and I knew I lost his attention but while the grounder was distracted I quickly stole Murphy’s gun and shot the grounder. My aim was good, but I hated shooting, killing wasn’t something I wanted to do. But I had to–for him.

Without processing what I did I went to Bellamy’s side. I hated his stupidity and I hated how he saved my life. “I hate you,” I said as I helped him up. He spit out blood, “I know,” he said while wincing from getting up too quickly.

While Bellamy was getting medical from Abby, I was talking with Octavia and Jasper. Murphy approached grabbing my arm, “Were you and Bellamy seeing each other behind my back?”

His breath reeks of Monty’s moonshine, “Are you serious? You’ve been cheating on me, Murphy?”

“Were you yes or no?”

Before I could say anything Bellamy put his arm around my waist. His hands slipped around my stomach. Holding me tight but just to keep himself steady from behind. “Yes,” he said in a raspy voice, still clearly in pain. I couldn’t turn my head, I’d be too close to his face. He groaned a bit in pain but still managed to keep his posture strong and himself looking composed. Bellamy pulled me in closer to him and that got a bit of a reaction from Murphy.

“Fuck you both,” he said as he stormed off. Everyone else decided to leave us alone, I was going to Bellamy back to medic. There was a zero percent chance he was let out yet.

He stopped me from walking, his tight and bloody shirt doing him every bit of justice. His hands took control so easily, “Why’d you do it,” I asked.

His fingers traced along my neck, “Save you? Or help you?”

“Both,” I spoke breathlessly. His eyes were fixated on my lips and I wondered if Abby gave him painkillers or something for this type of behavior.

Bellamy stared down at me, tension felt like it was rising, and the heat was radiating off our bodies. He kept one hand on my waist, holding me. His right hand pulled my hair to the side he leaned in, “because we both know I could treat you better,” he whispered into my ear.

#bellamy blake #oneshot #octavia blake #the 100 #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake imagine #enemies to lovers #fake dating #abby griffin #john murphy #jasper jordan #monty green #bob morley #Spotify

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muwapsturniolo · 2 months

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✯Sturniolos as Half-bloods✯

Goddess version

God version

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Chris would be the son of Aphrodite

Aphrodite is the goddess, of love, beauty, and desire. I think it makes perfect sense for him to be her son. I could see him always wearing some shade of pink (preferably a baby pink), pearl earrings, and just being the most wholesome person ever. He already is wholesome (besides the times when he is being an absolute menace) but it would definitely be elevated. With his mother being the goddess of love and beauty, he would do his best to ensure everyone feels loved and beautiful. Being stationed in camp half-blood, he would give all the girls flowers, brightening up their day and complimenting them on their beauty. When it comes to males, he would hype them up and play cupid, encouraging them to talk to the girls/males they have a crush on.

His cabin is number ten, and I would imagine it to be right by the water, the sun always shining in. His room in the cabin would be white with pink and creme accents. Pink silk bedding, a white desk, and a gold-encrusted mirror. It's no secret that Aphrodite is a bit vain, so he would put a lot of effort into his looks. His hair would sit perfectly, being brushed and combed with a rose-quartz hair tool. His skin would be clear and almost reflective. His lips would never be chapped, tinted softly with a pink lip balm. He would often show off his body, going for swims with the son of Poseiden (Nate possibly) his shirt being off, his abs prominent. A smirk would adorn his face knowing both males and females were fawning over him.

Going on to the desire and sexuality aspect. He knows he's handsome asf and he would use it to his advantage. He would flirt with multiple girls, even managing to get a few in his bed, but it would stop when he meets who he believes is the love of his life. The daughter of Hades.

Aphrodite's animal representation is usually doves and swans. In Chris's case, I think his would be a baby doe.

In the Percy Jackson series, Aphrodite's children didn't have many powers but the one that stands out would be charm speaking, almost like a siren song. Chris would definitely possess this power, being a smooth talker to get who and what he wants. As for a weapon, I could see him having a rose quartz shield paired with a sword, the handle of the sword being gold and white. The shield would be disguised as a ring, and the sword would be in the form of a pearl necklace.

his songs:

" He want lipstick, lipgloss, hickeys too" kiss me more- Doja cat

"Drop of a hat she's as willing as ,playful as a pussy cat" killer queen- queen (i like the 5sos version)

"i was made for lovin you baby and you were made for loving me" I was made for loving you-kiss

can't lie, all I was thinking about while writing Chris's part was @gamermattsgf fic silk ribbons 😭

Matt would be the son of Demeter

Demeter is the goddess of agriculture/harvest. Considering Matt has been the designated driver, does the laundry, and is labeled the navigator, I feel like this suits him. Agriculture is very important and tbh, without it, nothing in the world would work. I could see him always wearing jeans or overalls (barking at the thought of him wearing overalls omfg), he would wear a wife beater or a simple black t-shirt (preferably cropped teehee). He always would have his horse chain on, never taking it off, even when he's getting his hands dirty. Matt's quiet so I feel like that would carry on into the halfblood universe. He would stay near his cabin unless he was training or cooking in the camp kitchen. He would talk to a few people but would mostly keep to himself.

His cabin is number four, I would imagine it to be located near the back of the camp, close to mountains, and having a lot of land to farm. I would think it would be more of a rustic vibe, very serene. A lot of browns, cremes, with hints of green. A statue of his mother would be perched right in the middle of his backyard. He would sit next to it, offering her grains and cups of water as the sound of nature buzzed around them. Due to his mother being the goddess of harvest, he was in control of the food for the camp. He's basically a farmer. With being a farmer, there are multiple animals, his favorite being the horse. He would have an array of horses, his favorite being a pearl white horse he named Lucky. He would always take hikes along the trails, and teach other half-bloods how to care for the horses and how to ride them as well.

I could see him having a crush on Poesiden's daughter. It would be a beautiful relationship, after all, you cant grow plants or food without water.

In the Percy Jackson series, Demeter's children did possess powers. The ones I feel Matt would possess would be enhanced growth, (manipulate plant growth which would come in handy during battle.. He would also possess the power to manipulate seasons. It wouldn't be anything crazy, but he could make the temperature rise or fall drastically. His weapon of choice would definitely be a lasso, made with a golden thread. He would definitely ride on a horse, Lucky being the horse in question. The lasso would be disguised as the chain to his horse necklace, and the horse pendant itself would be Lucky.

Demeter's animal representation is usually a snake, pig, turtle doves, and a screech owl. The horse was also mentioned due to Poseiden creating the horse as a form of affection for Demeter. For Matt, I know for a fact his animal would be a horse (like I said multiple times) and a dog. Since I do think his love choice would be the daughter of Poseidon, he would gift her a horse.

His songs:

"I climbed a mountain and I turned around, and saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills" Landslide-fleetwood mac

"The dog days are over, the dog days are over. Can you hear the horses? Cause here they come." dog days are over- florence + the machine

"I've been searching for a trail to follow again, take me back to the night we met." the night we met- lord heron.

Nick would be the son of Athena

Athena is the goddess of war, wisdom, and craft. It's no secret Nick loves the idea of wielding a sword in a horse-drawn chariot, so this is perfect for him! He would always wear reds, golds, and black. I can deff see him wearing black docs for training, as well as jeans and some type of long sleeve. His attitude is very fierce, and he has a slick mouth. With his slick mouth comes wisdom, he's just very harsh with it. He is definitely the best fighter in the camp, being labeled as the winner and leader. I wouldn't say he was always looking for a fight but, he isn't afraid to get his hands dirty.

With his cabin being number six, I would think it's located near the training center of the camp. Lots of dirt and mud trails, and weapons being thrown across the front of the cabin. His room would have wooden flooring, with a four-post bed. The bedding would be plain white sheets with red satin pillowcases and a big red blanket. A bust of his mother would sit on his nightstand, a blade perched next to it. With fighting being in his blood, I could see multiple shields and swords in the bedroom as well, maybe some mounted on the walls.

As far as relationships go, he would want someone who is equally as skilled in fighting and can handle his mouth. With that being said, he would deff have his eyes on the son of Apollo. His archery skills and knowledge would captivate Nick.

In the Percy Jackson series, Athena's kids didn't have powers, they just had really good intelligence and fighting skills, as well as craftsmanship. Nick would have very good craftsmanship, constantly fixing things for people in camp half-blood, building buildings, etc. I also think he would be the one to come up with battle strategies during dire situations. His choice of weapon would switch between a sword and a staff. The sword and staff would be much like the son of Poseidon's, disguised as a pen. His staff would be disguised as a ring as well, throwing it up into the air and catching it in a dramatic yet impressive fashion. A horse-drawn chariot wouldn't be possible, so he does take one of Matt's horses instead.

Athena's animal representation is an owl. Despite Nick's fear of birds in real life, I do think he would take after his mother with the owl. The owl would alert him when there is danger near , and guide him in battle.

His songs:

"If it makes me a king, a star in your eyes" all for us- labyrinth

"And if you complain once more, you'll meet an army of me" army of me- Bjork

"And I had a thought about wreaking havoc on an opposition, kinda shocking, they want static with precision." enemy- imagine dragons

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

im in love with this!!!! im deff going to do a version for the gods!!!

TAGLIST🍑

@bernardsgf @bernardsleftbootycheek @blahbel668 @mattfrfr @gdsvhtwa @sturniolo-aali @lily-loves-struniolos @kynda-avery @causeidontlikeagoldrush

@st7rnioioss @carolinalikesthings @mattslolita @suyqa @xxloveralways14 @pepsiimaxx @judespoision

@ivonchetooo1239 @imaslut4kehlani @that-general-simp @m4stermindd @itzdarling @gigisworldsstuff @adoreindie @braindead4l @pettydollie @chrissgirlsstuff @alexis007 @ratatioulle @yamamasjumpercables @luv4kozume @sturnioloslurps @kqyslyho3 @mattslolita

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planetsano · 9 months

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↻ 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀: a gripping tale of love as the reader navigates a complex relationship with the infamous toji fushiguro OR toji fushiguro being a shit boyfriend should be a case study!

↻ 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: age gap (20’s ↝ 30’s), toxic relationship, smut.

↻ 𝗯𝘆𝗿: female reader, female bodied reader.

You see, the thing about Toji Fushiguro is that he’s always been unapologetically and shamelessly him— he’ll always be a man that will be forever stuck in his own ways. He’s selfish, crude, insensitive, and would do anything no matter how foul and evil to put him forward.

So.. it’s cute— no, admirable that you thought you could change him. A pretty, young thing in her twenties dealing with a wreck of a man like him. How sick is that? Really, your first red flag should have been him wearing a shirt three times too small.

Yeah, the age gap was certainly.. more than a few years, which heavily attributed to the mental disconnect in the relationship. You were bright-eyed and naïve, so much life in you and hadn’t experienced a drop of what real life was like. You often romanticized life, finding beauty in the simplest of moments and weaving dreams from the fabric of everyday experiences. Your vivid imagination painted the world with colors unseen by most, turning mundane occurrences into enchanting adventures.

You held on to the “love could conquer all!” and “I can fix him!” mentality or something like that. But your optimism was a double-edged sword, pushing you to cling to the relationship while also blinding you to the reality that perhaps you both needed different things in life. You needed a life partner and he needed a tight cunt to fuck.

It’s ironic because you approached him first.

“Mister Toji..? What’s your wife like?” You shyly played with the ends of your hair, avoiding his gaze like the plague. “Ah?” Toji raised a brow at you, slightly surprised by the forwardness of your question. “Oh right, ‘don’t have a wife.” “Oh..” You feel your face and the tips of your ears become hot with embarrassment. “Well maybe I could.. make you dinner sometime..?”

Toji liked the appeal of having a woman half his age on his arm. But what he simply could not stand was the amount of energy required for it— oh, don’t misunderstand, he never put forth any real efforts anyway, but it was simply the.. expectation. Toji didn’t give a fuck about dates or anniversaries, all he cared about was emptying his balls inside of your pussy, the hot dinners you make for him and cozy shelter you provide.

You liked to play housewife in your own silly little delusion, finding comfort in the make-believe world where everything was picture-perfect. The idea of being the nurturing, organized, and devoted partner gives you a sense of purpose, shielding you from the harsh realities of what really was. It was a cozy escape, a refuge where you could pretend that all your worries were mere fiction.

Yet, there were moments when the illusion began to unravel, and a whisper of doubt crept into your mind. Were you truly content with this role you had assumed, or were you sacrificing your true desires in pursuit of an idealized version of yourself? The nagging ty made you question if he really loved you as much as you were in love with him. Or at all for that matter. He was a busy man but would returning a call really hinder his day? Would a text twist his arm so much? You never ask though, you would hate to upset him or come across as “immature.”

But if he’s just so horrible, this.. big, bad man who found it annoying that you..? That you wanted to hold hands in public! What made you stay? Why stay with a man that seemed to only have his best interest in heart and you were a second, sometimes third, or forth.

His cock.

That cock was an addiction that you had no intention of quitting. The way this man fucked you was enough to liquidate your mind— leaving you nearly brain-dead as his warm seed oozes from your hole. The width of his cock alone made you stretch an absurd amount, teetering the edge of comfortability. His tip relentlessly gives your cervix a beating— bruising it and leaving a delicious soreness that lasts for nights.

Toji’s physical presence was undeniably imposing and large, that alone makes you feel like a delicate trinket, one treasured and protected. Yet, paradoxically, the way he handled you was anything but delicate. His hands, strong and calloused, held a certain roughness that spoke of a life lived on the edge, battle-hardened and weathered. He folds your body as though you were a ragdoll— regardless of your size.

When he’s gone for days on end, you find yourself yearning for his fulfillment— no hand or toy will satisfy you the way he does. Toji’s ruined sex for you.

Toji withheld affection from you whether it was intentional or not. So when he did praise you it felt as though you were a pretty princess— chemically altering your pretty little brain more than a little bit.

He often kept his emotions locked away, leaving you hesitant of where you stood in his heart. The lack of affection was a constant ache, leaving you yearning for even the smallest crumbs of his praise. Yet, when those rare moments arrived, it felt like a euphoric rush, flooding your mind with a mix of serotonin and dopamine.

His praise, though infrequent, had an intoxicating effect on you. It was like soaring to the highest of heavens, as if the whole universe had aligned in your favor. In those fleeting instances, self-doubt dissolved, and you basked in the warmth of his approval, feeling valued and cherished.

But the hesitation lingered, a cloud of doubt that never fully dissipated. You wondered if his praises were genuine or merely an act of throwing a dog a bone, a way to keep you satiated so you wouldn’t throw one of your fits. The chemistry of emotions within you danced between soaring highs and daunting lows, creating a rollercoaster of feelings you couldn’t control.

You found yourself seeking those rare moments of praise like an addict craving their next fix, yearning for his validation and acceptance. The intoxicating mix of emotions left you captivated and vulnerable, making it hard to see beyond the haze of his allure and your love goggles. You chose to believe a ring is on it's way at the end of the day.

“You did a good job today, lovebug.” “Really?” “Mm.”

And you jump, just like a lap dog. But don’t feel bad, I would too if I had a man as fine as Toji. Woof. ♡

#┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° bria writes!#toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jujustsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji smut #toji x you #toji zenin #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk toji #toji fushiguro imagine #toji fushiguro smut

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romanoffsbish · 4 months

Text

Silent Night

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

Natasha gives you the worst news possible, you are stuck with her on Christmas Eve when you had made plans with another… (Blurb / WC: 1k)

Warnings: Hurt / Comfort | Grief / Loss | Hopeful Ending

Natasha stood there frozen, her body near perfect in stature to the naked eye, but to any other spy they'd notice the slump in her stance. She was crestfallen in sync with you as you stumbled back and shook your head from side to side, negating her command.

——

"No!" Natasha leapt forward then, her arm quick to wrap around your waist, hand firmly gripping you by the hip as her other covered your trembling lips. The look of genuine grief and budding betrayal in your eyes was like a sword through the assassin's heart but she remained steadfast as she grunted, "stay quiet agent."

For a moment you were stunned into silence, it wasn't like the redhead treated you differently, but you had hoped she would. That she'd let the heartless facade go and help you to escape this nightmare. You needed to get home, which right now was a sterile white room in a rundown hospital because the salary of a shield agent still wasn't enough to save the woman you needed.

A girl never stops needing the love of her mother.

Natasha understood you, she knew the pain behind your eyes well, you were losing something important.

She knew what you were saying; you couldn't stay in this run down cabin with her until the coast was clear. Fury's orders were of no significance to you when you had a very important person waiting on you back home, which was currently thousands of miles away. Tony needed to send a rescue jet now, it didn't matter if lives were lost, you wouldn't really mind if it were your own and that terrified the stoic woman.

The words never left your lips but she could see it in your eyes that you wanted out. Of the cabin, yes, but also of this life you were mindlessly walking through.

Natasha knew something had changed for you about six months ago, you'd stopped smiling at her then. It was such a simple gesture on your end, persistent too as she never returned it, always just walked right by.

Natasha was trying to keep her distance from you as she worried your spark would be dulled by her pain.

There was so much she'd yet to process and she was not willing to take you down her path of darkness. The loss of your smile was actually what forced her into the darkness and ultimately what got her through it. She would picture it in her worst moments and find peace.

A solace she so desperately wanted to be for you, deep down she knew you'd need someone to hold you and she refused to let anyone else take this spot, it was hers. The protectiveness didn't fade but her resolve softened as she felt your tears beneath her fingers.

"Natasha, I have to go," you cried as her hand slipped and you attempted to shove her away. "I know..." Yet her hold didn't falter, it only tightened, "but you can't."

"Please," you cried, fists pummeled into her chest but she didn't falter. Her lips were gently raised and your eyes froze on the gesture you had always wanted from her. You were wrong for hitting her but she merely offered you reassurance; the permission to continue.

It broke you from your rage and set free the truth as you fell into her hold instead and the redhead was quick to lower your bodies. You wailed just the same as you did when your mother gave birth to you, giving you the life she'd lose tonight; on the eve of Christmas.

Twas her favorite holiday, it carried a nostalgia from her childhood that she sprinkled into yours. The best parts of course, she was that for you, if you could you'd sacrifice decades of yours for just another with her.

Life and death are intimately bonded, woven together as opposites because it can't be forgotten that what has a start must also come to an end; a cruel twisted fate.

The hopeful would call it a miracle, but you were more akin to a realist. It was easy to see that both sides offered truth, the reality lied beneath the romanticism.

There was good and bad in everyone's story, you felt it in the air as your mother's words presented falsely. The ding of your phone was unnecessary, just like the '🕊️' your sister had texted you. You felt the tether snap.

Your mother told you she wouldn't leave until she knew you were alright, which was not exactly rooted in the present moment but rather the foreshadowed fate.

The ghost pressure of a pair of lips was pressed against your forehead, and you whined in your sob induced sleep, Natasha lent down and kissed your skin in hopes that it would soothe your broken heart, even just a bit.

A smile adorned her face when you nuzzled further into her embrace, she pulled a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around your bodies. It didn't bother her that her night would be spent on the floor, with her back up against the edge of the couch, it wasn't ideal for sleeping but she didn't plan on doing that anyways.

The only plans she had were to sip on her tea and watch the rise and fall of your chest, "I've got you..."

Natasha didn't believe in much, the woman has stood up against aliens but she still dismissed the fables of ghosts, werewolves and vampires (she was team Alice).

The redhead was trained to believe what she sees, and it wasn't until tonight that she could cross out another.

A gust of wind blew over the both of you shortly after the woman had confirmed her desires to be with you. Three simple words that carried a deeper message. A smirk overtook the redheads face as she felt a warmth she'd never felt before, there was no other explanation.

"It's nice to meet you Miss Y/L/N; she's safe here."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff hurt comfort #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff blurb #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #gxg

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lafaiette · 2 months

Text

I've seen some people ask for comparisons between Pen's Chinese and English lines, so I made a small compilation to show the biggest changes that most baffled me.

There is a kind Chinese player, Yu, who offered the fandom much of the info and insight contained in this post, and she was the first to shed light on these differences! Without her enthusiasm, I doubt people would have started investigating Pen's original lines ;_;

Under the read more because this is long!

Brief premise: the Chinese dialogues in the game are often less "harsh" than the English ones. For example, Qi can sound rude and condescending in English, while he's pretty polite, if not a bit aloof, in Chinese. Justice's lines in English rely on the typical "hey pardner" cowboy accent, while in Chinese he's very professional, almost overly so.

That said, the English writer who worked on Pen made it no mystery that he based his characterization of Pen on Gaston from Beauty and the Beast. There is even a line directly referencing the movie: "[...] when I was a boy I ate four dozen eggs every morning to help me get large. Now that I'm grown I have five dozen eggs [...]"

As such, English Pen sounds much different from Chinese Pen. He's more patronizing and rude, and the writer added stuff that it's simply not present in the Chinese text. So while in English Pen can sound like a knucklehead obsessed only with muscles and training, surrounded by adoring women and fans when in Duvos, in Chinese he shows a different, almost more innocent side, as if he were a very tall and big child who has never had a day of legitimate and healthy fun in his life (and that's carried across in some of the English lines - that's why his English version is a bit contradicting sometimes).

Here are some examples:

One of his lines as a Good Friend is:

Here it's implied that Pen gives the Builder a hard time not only to push them to improve themselves... but also because he likes doing it, referencing his friendship mission where he admits he doesn't like teaching people anything, he just wants to fight them.

Meanwhile, the Chinese version says:

I keep calling you a weakling just to urge you and encourage you to exercise hard and break through your limits. If you won't have me to protect you in the future, you will have to become an eagle for me!

Here "eagle" is a reference to the way Pen calls the Builder in Chinese: 小弱鸡 "little weakling/little chicken" - and the latter is a rude way to call someone in Chinese, especially if they are a man and the "chicken" character (鸡) is repeated twice (but 鸡 by itself is also slang for "female prostitute"... so if you want to read it that way, Pen can call the Builder "my little slut" when in a relationship. HEH.)

In any case the tone in this line of dialogue is much different from the one in English, and Pen sounds genuinely enthusiastic.

Another example:

At the start of the game, Pen asks the Builder to craft a Sword and Shield for Burgess, who apparently misplaced his own. It turns out Burgess hid them under his bed, so when the Builder tries to give the weapons they crafted to Pen, he will tell them to keep them.

As usual, the English version is mocking and patronizing ("Hah! That'd be rich!"). In the Chinese version, Pen first compliments the desert:

In this case, take it back and use it for yourself! Use it to explore the desert and fight those monsters - what a thrill! The desert is very dangerous, but it is also full of charm.

Then there is the line about Logan and his band:

Hey! Maybe you can still find traces of Logan's gang! If you subdue them, you will gain both fame and fortune! [Okay, see you next time] [not shown here]

Now, some romance stuff : >

This is the description for the Robo-Love Couch. In English it says:

Meanwhile the Chinese description:

Referred to as the "Love Sand Machine", Peng Hu specially built a loving sofa for you, pieced together from the remains of robot monsters in the ruins.

He specially built a loving sofa for the Builder. It seems like a silly detail, but wording is important!

And yes, Pen's full name is Peng Hu, 彭虎. Peng is his family name, Hu his birth name. Hu 虎 means "tiger", and now you can understand why Grace suspected him to be Tiger the spy. But that would have been too easy!

Peng 彭 is a common Chinese surname. Its original meaning is believed to be "sound of war drums" (sad implication), but it's also used as an adjective to mean "big". So Pen's full name can mean "big tiger" :D

Back to the couch! Lines are different during the date in Paradise Lost, too.

Come on, little weakling, come and sit next to me. Let's give this trophy a "kiss of victory"! Do you do this with everyone you date? Wait, it seems I'm regretting it a bit... Happiness comes too suddenly...... (Kiss Peng Hu)

In the English version, the Builder can ask "How many of these thrones have you built...?", implying that Pen has had so many lovers he can craft this couch in a matter of few seconds. But in Chinese, the Builder's question is much different, it's more like: "Damn, are you always so over the top when dating someone??"

One of the biggest differences is in this set of lines:

Okay.

Meanwhile, in Chinese:

Today's experience made me realize that love has used a deadly locking technique on both of our hearts. Let me no longer doubt the feelings between us. This love is true love! Now, I am even more unwilling to take my eyes away from you! Haha!

I MEAN.

Also, in Chinese Pen never mentions the infamous 12 girlfriends when the Builder and Grace question him in jail. Yu confirmed that throughout the game Pen doesn't brag about his love life or his popularity with women, probably also due to the negative way Chinese culture sees this kind of "bragging".

Not only Pen and many other characters are younger in Chinese Sandrock (Pen's age ranges from 25 to 27, while he's confirmed to be 31 in the English localization), but he's depicted as being not very experienced in relationships in general. He basically only knows how to fight, punch people, and destroy stuff. Anything else - having friends, being with someone who truly loves him and whom he truly loves, having a normal life - are something he never experienced before. He did date (see his final letter later), but he's not described being the Casanova of Duvos like he is in the English version. In fact, it seems people only liked him due to his body and status, and a remnant of this piece of characterization is left in the English text when he says:

Surely, you understand�� I am quite the prize. I can’t take myself off the market just to become arm candy for you to show off at your little buildy guild awards or whatever it is! No, what I desire… is true love…

Furthermore,

In Chinese, he says during the Masterclass friendship mission: "To be honest, I never thought I'd be able to make friends, let alone with someone of your stature/body size! But here we are, with a sick relationship!"

In English: "You know, Skinny, I’ve never had someone I really considered a friend before. Furthermore, I always promised myself I’d never be friends with anyone who didn’t have an awesome cape, but… you made me break that promise."

"I never thought I'd be able to make friends" is different from "I’ve never had someone I really considered a friend before." In the first line, the focus is on Pen ("I don't know how to make friends; I'm not good at it; it's not for me; how do you do it?"), in the second it's on other people ("I've been surrounded by people all my life, but I don't consider any of them to be a friend of mine; yeah, I call this one 'friend', but... they are not really really a friend")

The Chinese line is much sadder, and it shows how lonely Pen's life has been. One of his main characteristics, after all, is being "special", "the strongest", "different from everyone else"; but more often than not, being special and different also mean being "lonely". ("I must say it gets lonely at the top… What I wouldn't give for a truly talented opponent who could really keep me on my toes! Alas...")

And now, the grand finale :'>

A screenshot from Yu's playthrough, Pen's final line:

Farewell, Yu. This time it's for real. You're free.

The Protector, the bracelet Pen will leave for the Builder in the cave, is called "Guardian of Love" (爱的守卫者) in Chinese. Its description says:

A very delicate bracelet that protects the wearer's wrist. Wearing it gives the wearer a feeling of being emotionally confined. Perhaps this feeling is similar to what Peng Hu often said, "Marriage is a boring bondage".

His letter in Chinese is also sweeter and sadder:

最近在这所谓的阿塔拉最高监狱，我也多了点时间思考，没法带你一起来陪我，多少有些遗憾。罢了，这事也怪我。不管怎么说，你也算是我交往过的恋人里最让我上心的，也是为数不多分手之后我还继续挂念的。所以，我打算原谅你了。对——我原谅你了。我想我们也没有机会再在一起了，你也不过是做了你那个位置该做的事，没什么值得抱怨的。我应该一开始就努力把你“招安”了，让你跟我一起，才是最妥当的做法。当然我也没怨你，你确实很优秀。我还留了个最后的挑战给你。在某个遗迹里，有我最宝贵的几样东西，如果你能拿到，就归你了。运用我教给过你的一招半式，要去到那里应该很容易。我亲爱的小弱鸡，这是我最后一次这样叫你了，我相信你的能力。记住，不要怠慢了训练。我们，后会无期。

Dear [name], I've had a little more time to think lately in this so-called Atara Maximum Prison, and I'm more than a little sorry that I couldn't bring you along to accompany me. Well, it's my fault. Anyway, you are still the most beloved lover I have ever been with, and one of the few that I continue to miss even after a breakup. So, I'm going to forgive you. Yeah - I forgive you.I don't think there's a chance we'll ever be together again. You're just doing what you're supposed to do in your position, so there's nothing to complain about. I should have tried my best to recruit you from the beginning, and it would have been the best way to keep you with me. Of course I don't blame you, you're indeed excellent. I also left you a final challenge. In some ruins, there are a few of my most valuable things, and if you can get them, they're yours. It should be easy to get there, using the tricks I've taught you. My dear little weakling, this is the last time I'll call you that, I believe in your abilities. Remember, don't slack off on your training. We won't meet again. (but 后会无期 can also mean "meeting at an unspecified/unclear date")

And finally, if romanced, Pen will leave for the Builder 5 pieces of gold, 2 diamonds, and 1 Protector. 521 (and 520) are a cute way to say "I love you" in Chinese, because when read aloud they sound like "我爱你, Wo ai ni, "I love you". But in some cases, 521 also means "Yes, I will [marry you]" - and Pen does drop a diamond ring after his final battle (apparently he drops it only if you romanced him, but it's unclear yet. I'm pretty sure he didn't drop it during my Fang playthrough, while he did drop it when I romanced him, but I'll need to check that).

WELP, this is pretty much everything I got on this! If the kind Yu will tell us more or I find anything else, I'll update this post!

#mtas #mtas pen #my time at sandrock #my time at sandrock pen #PATHEAAAA #YOU HAD A GOLDEN CHARACTER IN YOUR HANDS #AND YOU WASTED THE CHANCE....#you can see the chinese writers DID put more effort into his characterization #they wanted to write the “bad boy who actually loves you” trope #meanwhile the english writer went for “disney villain/clown bachelor choice”#hahah such fun :')

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whitedarkmoonflower · 7 months

Note

hello

Can I request a sihtric x reader fic where she doesn’t know how to braid, so sihtric teaches her. and when she’s good enough he lets her braid his hair for battle saying it would bring him luck(?)

this is the main idea but you can change & do whatever you like with it! Thank you!

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: I think I have never written a fic so quickly as this one. It just touched a string within me. Thank you so much for this absolutely lovely request! I hope you'll enjoy it!

Warnings: fluff, tons of fluff and such a tiny bit of angst, that it doesn't really count

Word Count: 4,5K

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

The first light of dawn painted the horizon in delicate hues of pink and orange, casting a soft reflection on the tranquil river below. The water flowed very calm in this part of the river, the gentle lapping of the current seamlessly melding with the melodies of the first birds, praising the awakening of a new day.

As Sihtric walked, he felt a sense of peace enveloping him. The riverside always had this calming effect, a place where he could gather his thoughts before the day's chaos ensued. Especially now, with Coocham buzzing with warriors gearing up for battle.

Soon, he reached a secluded bend in the river, framed by tall reeds from the side of the river, while nearby a sprawling willow provided shade, shielding this corner from both the sun's gaze and curious onlookers. The air here was cooler, tinged with the refreshing scent of wet soil and the distant fragrance of blooming wildflowers.

Rounding the bend, Sihtric halted, an unexpected sight meeting his eyes – amidst the curtain of reeds and morning's embrace, you were dressing after what appeared to be a refreshing river bath. Droplets of water still clung to your naked arms, glistening in the faint sunlight. You reached for your leather jerkin, slipping it over your undergarment and breeches, then tugged on your boots and fastened your sword. Your damp hair, darker than its usual shade, clung to your neck, small streamlets running down your back.

Even from where he stood, Sihtric could see the focus in your stance, reminding him instantly of how you looked in the heat of training. He smirked remembering the unexpected twist his first sparring session with you had taken.

It had been a mystery to him why Uhtred had taken you in as a warrior. A woman – a small and delicate creature, looking like you would break into two from wielding that long and heavy blade of yours. The way you danced around the hay dolls in the sparring grounds, as if playing some intricate game, made Sihtric just wrinkle his nose and rolle his eyes, even as Finan approvingly chuckled with his tongue, hinting at a different perspective.

Until that one day.

—-----------------------------------------------

It was a late afternoon and the training grounds resonated with the rhythmic clang of metal clashing and the shuffling of feet on dry ground. Sihtric, along with Finan and Osfert, stood slightly off, their gazes fixed once again on you as you flowed through a series of maneuvers with your blade.

"She's got a knack for this," Finan observed, admiration evident in his voice. "See her footwork? Swift and sharp."

Osferth nodded, adding, "She's trained well. That much is clear."

"Since when have you turned into an expert in sword skill?” Sihtric scoffed, “Besides training and actual battle are worlds apart. Dancing around here is one thing, but facing seasoned warriors? Doubt she'd last a minute."

Finan shot him a sidelong glance. "Don't be so quick to dismiss, Sihtric. She might surprise you."

"She might be good," Sihtric conceded, his tone laced with sarcasm, "for training sessions with stray dolls. They don’t fight back. Let's be real; when swords clash in earnest, it's a different game."

Osferth countered, "You're not giving her enough credit. It's evident she has the heart of a warrior."

Sihtric's lips curled into a smirk, "Heart won't stand a chance against seasoned Dane fighters."

Finan, growing frustrated, retorted, "Like you, you mean? There's something else that bothers you about her, and it's not her skills. Spit it out."

“In the shield wall, every man counts. I want my flanks secured by real warriors, not this dancing doll.” Sihtric sneered with disdain.

Sihtric turned to look at you just to realise that you had approached the trio, having caught the tail end of their conversation. Blade resting on your shoulder, you met Sihtric's gaze squarely. "Shall we see? Care for a spar, Sihtric?"

The challenge hung in the air, and the attention of everybody on the grounds was suddenly focused on both of you.

"Perhaps we should use sticks, not steel. Wouldn't want to mar that pretty face of yours," Sihtric jested.

Your retort was swift, "Scared I might leave a mark?" With a confident stride, you took your stance, eyes locked onto Sihtric, awaiting his move.

Amid the expectant gazes of his friends and other warriors now coming closer, Sihtric drew his blade and slowly stepped into the training ground, every muscle radiating the confidence of years of experience and countless battles.

Without hesitation, Sihtric made the first move, lunging forward with a powerful strike, expecting to overwhelm you and end the bout swiftly. To his astonishment, he was met with empty air as you sidestepped evading him gracefully. His initial smugness was replaced with a furrowed brow.

The dance continued, with Sihtric trying to leverage his strength, but you remained elusive. Like a leaf caught in a whirl of wind, you ducked, swirled, and danced around him, evading each of his strikes. Each of your movements, precise and fluid, confounded him, taunting him with feints, luring him in with the promise of an opening in your defences, only to change direction at the last moment, leaving him off-balance. Each time, the crowd's gasps and murmurs grew louder, Sihtric's frustration evidently increased.

The defining moment came when you feigned a low strike, prompting Sihtric to lower his defence. In a split second, you changed your trajectory, using his momentum against him. He stumbled, caught off guard, and with a deft move, you closed in, swirling around, striking his blade hand and burying your shoulder in his stomach. Sihtric could only gasp watching his blade flying out of his grasp, himself landing roughly on the dusty ground.

A wave of cheers washed over the grounds. Standing tall, you extended a hand to a visibly dazed Sihtric, sitting in the dirt.

Finan's smirk was hard to miss as he chuckled, "Told you so. You just wouldn't listen."

The next morning as you arrived at the training grounds, Sihtric was already there, engrossed in sharpening his sword. Every stroke showed his focus, so much so that he didn't seem to notice you approaching. You hesitated for a moment before turning away to begin your own regimen, keenly aware of Sihtric's discreet glances in your direction as you practiced.

Finan approached, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Waiting for someone, Sihtric?"

Sihtric shot him an annoyed look. "Just making sure my blade is sharp."

Osferth, joining them, chuckled. "He's been 'making sure' that for the past hour, you can use that blade for shaving!"

Sihtric sighed, "Alright, alright. I was thinking of...you know...asking her to spar. But..."

"But you're too chicken to ask?" Finan teased.

"It's not that. It's just... What if she feels I'm challenging her? Or worse, trying to show off?" Sihtric shifted uneasily.

"Why don't you just be direct?" Osferth suggested. "Ask her if she'd like to train with you. Simple."

Before Sihtric could reply, you approached, having noticed the trio's discussion. "Something interesting you're talking about?"

Finan, never one to miss an opportunity, smirked, "Sihtric here was just about to ask you something."

Sihtric shot Finan a glare but took a deep breath, "I was...uh...wondering if you'd be interested in...you know, sparring with me? No challenges, just...training."

You looked at him, a playful smile forming on your lips, "Took you long enough to ask. Let's see what you've got."

And so it began. Soon your sparring sessions became a regularity, a steady part of each day.

Despite Sihtric's prowess and experience, he found himself continuously challenged by your fluidity and swiftness. Every parry, every counter-attack showcased your undeniable skill and he dug deep into his experience and strength to avoid repeating his previous mistake.

And while the warrior in him thrived in the challenge, the man in him was captivated by you in a way he had not expected.

The effortless elegance of your movements, the way your hair swayed synchronously with your strikes, glinting in the sunlight, were hypnotic. Your lean body, a perfect fusion of strength and grace, resembled an alerted wild creature, ever vigilant and prepared.

The way your cheeks turned rosy from exertion, the never fading spark in your eyes, full of determination, yet always bright with mischief and joy, your contagious laughter – all this and a thousand other small subtle things captured Sihtric's heart and endeared you to him.

Your wit, as sharp as your blade, was an allure in its own right. The fire with which you defended your views and opinions only deepened Sihtric's respect for you. And the way you never missed a chance to playfully tease those around you placed you at the same level as Finan. In between rounds, even out of breath and exhausted, you would always find a strength to throw a joke, your laughter infectious, lighting up the surroundings. Sihtric often found himself anticipating these moments more than the actual sparring.

Sihtric clearly recalled that one day, after a particularly intense round with both of you breathless and drenched in sweat, his eyes had scanned your form, an unfamiliar sensation washing over him. Unbeknownst to him, he had found himself admiring you – undeniably a skilled and formidable warrior, but also a woman, such a beautiful woman, radiating passion, intelligence, and resilience. In that instant, a warmth spread through his chest, an undeniable pull that made his heartbeat quicken.

—--------------------------------------------------

Lost in his memories, Sihtric failed to see a stray branch on the ground. It snapped sharply under Sihtric’s foot, its sound carrying in the stillness of dawn. Startled, your eyes met his visibly sheepish expression.

There was a lingering pause, stretching a bit too long. With a mischievous smirk, you finally broke it. "Do the riverside reeds make for good hiding spots, Sihtric? Or are you merely lost?"

Taken aback, Sihtric stumbled over his words. "I... I didn't mean to intrude. I was just—"

"Sightseeing?" you teased, arching an eyebrow playfully.

He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. "Honestly, I didn't expect anyone to be here. My apologies."

You chuckled, clearly enjoying the rare opportunity to see the usually composed Dane flustered. "Next time, maybe announce your presence with a song or dance. At least then I can join in the fun."

He laughed, the tension easing a bit. "Noted. I'll work on my riverside entrance."

You flashed him a grin. "See to it. And perhaps, I'll give you a show worth watching."

The mortified look, appearing on Sihtric’s face, made you laugh.

“Since you’re here, maybe you can help?” you asked, showing him a small blade in your hand.

Sihtric’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Help you? How?”

"These," you tug at your locks, "get in the way and that can be an unnecessary distraction during a battle. It might look less disastrous if you’d help cut them."

Sihtric looked surprised, “It’s just hair. Why not simply braid them?"

Your eyes darted away, "Never learned that skill. Gisela, Hild, and others always do it for me. But they won't be accompanying us. I'm left with few options."

Sihtric chuckled. "So, the master of swords is defeated by braiding?"

You shrugged with your shoulders. "We all have our weaknesses."

Sihtric's gaze lingered on you, his heart's tempo subtly quickening. "Well, lucky for you, I've been braiding my hair for years. If you'd trust me, I could assist."

Amusement glinted in your eyes. "Sihtric, the fierce warrior, a hairdresser? That's an unexpected turn."

Feigning affront, he winked, "Hey, a man can have many talents!"

Nodding, you handed him a comb. "Then, let's give it a whirl."

"Come," Sihtric gestured, spreading his cloak by a willow's expansive root.

How attentive, you mused, not with surprise, but merely acknowledging what you already knew. That’s how he was. Beneath the rough and reserved exterior of the stern warrior you had long discovered the tender inner core of an exceptionally warmhearted man – always loyal, ever attentive and a deeply caring friend.

With an amused smile on your face you settled down onto the cloak, with Sihtric positioning himself behind you, his legs framing you supportively. The touch of his fingers, as he began combing and later skillfully weaving your hair, sent a frisson down your spine. And you let yourself drift away in memories as you listened to him humming a soft tune.

—-------------------------------------------------

You loved the sparring sessions with Sihtric, which became routine soon after your first encounter. Every time you squared off against him on the training ground, a thrill surged through you. It wasn't just the sparring, but the challenge he presented. He was a formidable opponent, hardened in countless battles. Every stance, every move, every counter spoke of his experience.

Your initial easy victory against him was a sweet memory, but the more you trained with him, the more you realised that it had been quite a stroke of luck. Sihtric had underestimated you, causing him to be less vigilant and overly hasty. Now, with every session, it became clearer that keeping up with him demanded all of your skill and focus.

Sihtric's unique combat rhythm was unpredictable. His strength was palpable, not just in his powerful strikes but also in his unwavering stance, making it challenging to catch him off guard as you had during your initial spar. Every session was a blend of instruction, challenge, and exhilaration, all of which you embraced wholeheartedly.

One particular day remained etched in your memory. After an intense bout, with both of you drenched in sweat and panting for breath, you leaned against a tree to recover. Your gaze naturally drifted to Sihtric. He was bent over, hands on his knees, his chest heaving, catching his breath, every muscle defined beneath his sweat-soaked tunic. While you had always respected his martial prowess, that day, an unfamiliar warmth spread within you, accompanied by a flutter you couldn't identify.

You watched as he straightened up, brushing off the dirt and sweat. A stray strand of hair fell onto his forehead. An unexpected urge overcame you—to reach out and tuck it away, brushing your fingers against his skin. You were taken aback by this newfound sentiment. What was that?

Your heart raced, not only from the exhaustion of the spar, but from this unexpected surge of emotion. Memories flooded your mind — flashbacks of your shared laughs, the lingering, hidden glances, the melodic timbre of his soft voice as he shared stories by the fireplace.

You shook your head, trying to dispel these thoughts. It was just the exhaustion playing tricks on your mind. And yet, you couldn’t resist stealing another glance, captivated by the way his lips curved into a smile as his eyes locked onto yours, sending a shiver down your spine.

As you both wrapped up, the typical teasing that was so common between you both seemed charged with a new energy. Was it just you, or did he feel it too? Something deep within you had shifted giving way to emotions unknown and unintelligible for you, something you weren't quite ready to admit, even to yourself.

—--------------------------------------------------

Now, as you sat nestled between his legs, Sihtric almost regretted his impulsive offer to braid your hair. Had he overstepped? Yet, the allure of the moment was undeniable and too compelling to resist.

His fingers gently caressed your hair, the silky locks gliding seamlessly through his grasp. Every touch sent an electrifying jolt through his entire body, the strange feeling both excited and unnerved him. This closeness was a strong contrast to your sparring sessions—no blades, no shields, just the two of you, closer than a hand's reach.

His heart pounded loudly in his chest. Every sweep of his fingers, every touch of your hair sent a thrill coursing through him, stirring emotions and making his fingers tremble slightly.

The world around slowly faded. Every twist, every intertwining strand tightened an unexplainable knot in his stomach, every occasional brush of his hands against your neck made him yearn for more. The warmth of your back against his torso, the subtle scent that lingered, the softness of your hair—it was overwhelming, intoxicating.

He leaned in slightly, his breath uneven, lips mere inches from your head. Every second stretched, deepening his yearning.

The braid was almost complete, but Sihtric took his time, savouring the moment, cherishing each touch. He was in love, deeply so, and while he was not yet ready to speak it out loudly, the intimacy of this moment seemingly spoke volumes.

“You are ready, fair warrior,” he finally whispered, his voice bringing you back from your reverie.

Your fingers gently touched your head, where your ever dishevelled locks had been transformed into three neat strands, overflowing into one braid trailing down your back. Springing up, you dashed to the water to glimpse your reflection.

"Guess I won't need this blade for a haircut after all," you mused clearly impressed, sliding the knife back into its sheath.

Sihtric's eyes sparkled with a mix of pride and mischief. "I did say I had a knack for it."

You chuckled, "Thanks, Sihtric. I’m in your debt."

He shrugged, his casual demeanour back in place. "Just promise to show me a new sword move or something. That would square us, right?"

You grinned, "I've got a better idea. Teach me to braid, and someday, I might offer the same service to you."

"My lady, braiding isn't as straightforward as swordplay. It's an art form. If you wish to have the privilege of braiding my locks, you've got a lot to learn,” Sihtric smirked in response.

And so, the remaining week before departure a new dimension was added to your training sessions – Sihtric became your braiding instructor. You profoundly wondered how he had managed to persuade almost all the small girls in the whole village to sit patiently as his fingers, interlaced with yours, guided you through the intricate process, showing you the weaves and twists, demonstrating how to put pearls and beans in the hair and fasten the braids.

You were amazed by the delicacy and deftness of his rugged hands, contrasting sharply with your own efforts that often left stray hairs or twisted sections that unravelled the entire braid. And one day, the mystery surrounding the patience of the small villagers was unravelled when you saw Sihtric remove one of his silver rings, handing it to one of the girls. A smile played on your lips at the sight as you realised he was actually paying in silver to have you taught to braid.

—--------------------------------------------------------------

You sat beside a crackling fireplace, the camp sprawling amidst the trees with tents everywhere around you. An unmistakable tension permeated the air, as it always did on the eve of battle. Some warriors sought solace in ale, others meticulously sharpened their already perfect blades, while some gathered around the fires, sharing stories and seeking comfort in the company, driven sleepless by anticipation. There was no one else at your fire, sitting alone on a fallen log, you hugged your knees, immersed in thoughts, when a warm hand settled on your shoulder.

“Ever fought in a battle before?” Sihtric asked, taking a seat beside you, the firelight dancing in his eyes. “Don’t take me wrong. I know how good you are with the blade. But fighting one to one is different.”

“I know, you’re right and yes, I have. And I will not pretend that it doesn’t scare me. Only a fool would pretend to not fear the chaos of the battle,” you looked up to meet Sihtric’s gaze. “But don’t mistake my fear for weakness. Don’t think I will waver just because I’m a woman. I proved you wrong once and I’ll do it again, if needed.”

“You’ve nothing to prove to me. I just… I…” Sihtric struggled to find the right words. He wanted to ask you to stay by his side, so that he could protect you, shield you from harm, but he couldn’t find the right words to express that without insulting you. He understood that especially now after you had voiced your suspicion that he still didn’t trust you enough, there was no way of saying what he had intended to. You were a warrior, and he had learned his lesson not to doubt it, he respected that. And yet you were a woman. A woman he loved and cherished so deeply that the mere thought of harm befalling you was agonising and driving him to the brink of madness.

You looked expectantly at Sihtric, waiting for him to finish his saying.

"Could you... braid my hair for the battle tomorrow?" he finally blurted out, his cheeks warm, silently grateful that the fire's shadows hid his flush.

The surprise in your voice was evident. "You'd entrust me with that?"

Sihtric didn’t answer, his eyes full of strange anxiety didn’t leave yours and you swallowed back the joke that was already almost rolling over your lips.

His eyes, swirling with a mix of vulnerability and intensity, never left yours. He hesitated, before answering, "Among the Danes, there's an old belief. Having your hair braided by someone you truly trust… brings good luck in battle."

The meaning of the words slowly sank into your mind, making a genuine smile appear on your lips. "Trust me, this will be my finest braid," you replied, gesturing for him to sit down in front of you.

Sihtric slid down from the branch and settled between your legs. You reached out to touch his hair – dark, thick and curly and so pleasantly soft against your fingers, the sensation of the touch so unexpectedly stirring.

You began separating the strands, your fingers working with utmost care and concentration, as you started to pull and twist, enjoying the electrifying feeling of Sihtric’s hair brushing against your fingers. Each strand you took, twisted and wove into the pattern of your choice reminded you of the time you both spent together the last few days. His strong arms wielding the blade like a toy, his face covered with sweat, his concentrated gaze and furrowed eyebrows, as he looked for a weak point in your defences, his genuine laugh at your jokes, his fingers intertwined with yours, teaching you to braid.

Sihtric shuffled between your legs and you felt a warm flush rising to your cheeks as he leaned back nestling more comfortably between your thighs.

Your eyes, usually so sharp and observant, softened as they concentrated on the task and you unconsciously bit your lower lip. First small braids on the sides, then some more a bit higher and then the middle one – twist after twist the braids started to take shape, as you meticulously weaved each strand, ensuring not a single one was overlooked or twisted wrongly.

You tied off the ends and marvelled at your own work, not wanting to let go, to allow this magical moment to end, your fingers remained lingering, tangled in the free curls on the back, and you brushed them gently against the nape of his neck. The touch was fleeting, almost too tender to be noticed, as your fingers slid over his skin for the briefest moment in an unconscious attempt to communicate feelings you were not yet ready to express in words.

Drawing back, pride filled your gaze, your hands resting on Sihtric’s shoulders. "There," you whispered. “You’re ready for the battle.”

You felt Sihtric shudder under your touch, his arms lifting to clasp your hands, pulling them gently to his face and placing a soft kiss on your right palm.

"Thank you," his voice was husky with emotion, though he didn't turn around to face you. You felt like there was something in the air, something electrical, something unspeakable and indescribable, and you wondered whether it was the looming battle or the accumulation of the suppressed feelings and emotions or maybe both.

Sihtric slowly touched his braids, a hint of smile playing on his lips. He had finally found the right words.

“Promise me something,” he murmured, finally turning to face you. “Promise to stay by my side tomorrow. I need to know my left is guarded by such a skilled and formidable warrior as you.”

You looked in his mismatched eyes, feeling a warmth enveloping you.

“I promise,” you whispered, lowering yourself down next to Sihtric and almost melting at the feeling of Sihtric’s strong arm enveloping your shoulders, pulling you closer and wrapping his warm fur coat around you both. You leaned against him, the warmth of the fur, combined with Sihtric's steady heartbeat, making the world outside seem to blur. There were no words needed as he held you in his unwavering embrace, the silence between you both and the profound comfort of simply being speaking volumes on their own.

As the night wore on and the camp around you finally slowly drifted into sleep, you both remained wrapped in the coat, holding onto each other and the softness of the moment. His arm, strong and secure, held you close, while your head rested on his shoulder. It was a solace, a reprieve from the world outside, and a reminder of what is worth fighting for, the embrace becoming a silent promise—to stand by each other, come what may.

—----------------------------------------

The battle was over. Sihtric rose to his feet pulling his axe from the dead body, his eyes searching his surroundings for another enemy to release his anger over, but none remained. The ground, once firm and unyielding, was now a morass of muddied, trampled grass, blood, and the footprints of countless boots and hooves.

Abandoned weapons littered the field, gleaming dully. Swords, spears, and shields lay strewn around, some half-buried in the earth, others still clutched by lifeless hands. Bodies of the fallen were strewn across the landscape, and vultures were already circling overhead. Small groups of men searched the field for survivors.

Sihtric looked around and a pang of dread constricted his heart. He still remembered you beside him when the enemy's shield wall shattered. He remembered the fierce look in your eyes, the way you leaped at some random man swinging his axe at you. You had looked like a goddess of war, stabbing, chopping, parring, dancing around your enemies with an ease only you were capable of. But then Sihtric had lost you out of his sight. He had turned to face a big, red faced Dane swinging his impressive war axe at him and when he turned back, his hands smeared with blood pouring out of the Dane’s neck, you were gone.

The air was thick with a mixture of smoke, blood and filth, as Sihtric roamed the battlefield, shouting your name, his face pale and eyes darkening in despair with each moment there was no answer, his breathing growing laboured and hope waning. In the very moment when despair threatened to consume him entirely, he finally spotted you, sitting on a fallen tree at the rand of the battlefield. You sat there with your face, hands and your whole armour smeared with blood, breathing hard, your sword driven into the ground and serving as a support for your arms.

Rushing to your side, Sihtric knelt before you, his hands framing your face. "Are you hurt? Is that your blood?" he asked, his eyes wide, anxiety plainly written on his face.

“I’m fine. Just a few scratches. Nothing that won’t heal by the next new moon.”

“Don't ever do that again.” Sihtric murmured, his voice just a hush, pressing his forehead against yours. “For a short moment I thought I’d lost you. Believe me, I’ve never been so scared in my whole life.”

Your fingers slowly touched Sihtric’s face, tracing the lines and scars on his face, your eyes locked. Sihtric’s thumbs gently caressed your cheeks as he slowly, deliberately began to lean in. The space between you both diminished, charged with an electrifying tension, as you felt the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

His fingers brushed your neck, and as you closed your eyes, you felt the tender, hesitant pressure of his lips meeting yours.

“I love you, my fierce warrior,” Sihtric whispered against your lips, “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“And I love you too,” you managed to breathe out, your voice barely audible, melting against the gentle touch of his lips against yours.

It wasn't a fiery, passionate kiss. It was a gentle, lingering one, full of unspoken words and emotions, a culmination of all the shared glances, soft touches and unspoken feelings that had built up between you. It was a deliberate melding, like two flames coming together to form one and every nuance of the kiss spoke volumes—the delicate way Sihtric’s fingers cradled your jaw, the soft brush of his thumb across your cheek, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer.

“Hey, your braids are still intact. I did well, didn’t I” you laughed as you both pulled back, gasping for air.

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric fanfic #sihtric fic #the last kingdom #tlk #arnas fedaravicius #tlk fanfic #the last kingdom fanfic #arnas fedaravičius

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grimalkenkid · 4 months

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Some silly, shipping brainrot based on things I did in-game under the cut that does involve some spoilers and leaks for The Indigo Disk DLC:

So, apparently, once you get the ability to trade with Kieran, he offers an Applin for trade. Now, according to that one NPC quest in Sword/Shield, there's a folk belief in Galar that giving an Applin to one's romantic interest is both a confession and good luck for that relationship if the recipient chooses to accept. Why is this folktale important? Because I subscribe to the headcanon that Juliana grew up in Galar and only recently moved to Paldea with her mother. So, she would be more acquainted with the association between Applin and love confessions.

When Kieran offers an Applin for trade, Juliana is freaking out internally because "Does he know that folktale?" While hanging out, she mentioned she was from Galar, so did he get the idea from that? Or does he just like Applin a lot? She ends up spiraling in the League Club Room after Kieran leaves, babbling to Lacey and Crispin about how she's worried she's overthinking things or if Kieran really did just confess his love for her? After all, he left pretty fast after the trade concluded, right? Embarrassment, maybe? It's not like Juliana would turn him down.

While Crispin thinks Kieran would've (or should've) just said something if that's what he meant, Lacey suggests asking him if Juliana's that stressed about it. However, from where he's chillaxing at the table, Drayton offhandedly jokes, "Oh! Now I get why you chose an Applin to trade for my Duraladon! Good to know."

Juliana is about to combust from embarrassment, as she's now realizing she may have subconsciously chosen Applin for him due to the old folktale. Drayton is covering up his disappointment behind a smile and his usual, lazy demeanor, while Lacey huffs at him not to joke about stuff like that (He wasn't).

And Crispin is going off to the Terrarium to scream into the void because "Why won't anyone in this goddamn club just talk to each other?!"

#pokemon scarlet and violet #the indigo disk #spoilers #the indigo disk spoilers #drayton pokemon #juliana pokemon #pokemon kieran #juliana x kieran #juliana x drayton #I have no idea what those ship names would be #based on the fact that I really did trade Drayton an Applin for his Duraladon

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danikamariewrites · 7 months

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hi i absolutely love your writing, like i go through ur page everyday, like i have my notifications on so everytime you post i click so fast 😩🤞like you’re a celebrity in my eyes and i get so giddy when you post.

I think i sent in a req w feysand x reader where they’re on the battlefield. They’re in formation and standing ready to attack. Reader sacrifices herself by using a hidden power that no one knows about, she rivals even rhysands power and no one expected her to have this much power. she winnows closer to their enemies and rhys and feyre screams for her to run back or get away. Reader looks at them with sorrow, love and determination a last time and let’s her power loose, oblitirating all of the enemies before the war even starts. By some miracle she survives but is so close to death and nesta saves her. Reader is unconcious for almost a week before she wakes up and they all talk and reunite, angst to fluff pleaseeeee🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

i don’t remember if i sent this in or if i’m bugging out but pls ignore if I already did🧎‍♀️❤️

Sacrifice

Feysand x reader

A/n: thank you anon, ur literally going to make me cry and boost my ego plz 😭🥹 I hope you like the fic

Warnings: angst, near death experience, fluff at the end

You heard Cassian calling for soldiers to fall in formation. Taking a deep breath you exit the tent you share with Feyre and Rhys. Your mates. Tears line your eyes as you think about this morning with them. How you’ll never see them again.

You send a prayer to the Mother, begging her to watch over them when your gone. You thought back to your conversation with Nesta last night.

“If something goes wrong I need you to help contain it.” Nesta shook her head in disbelief at your words. “Why have you never told anyone about your powers?” “I never had it under control. I pushed them down all my life but I think I can take them out.” The look Nesta gave you would send a normal person running. But you knew deep down that look meant she was scared for you.

“Y/n, what do I even tell them if they ask about your powers?” “I don’t know. I won’t ask you to lie for me. Can you tell them I love them, and that I’m sorry.” Nesta flings her arms around your neck, squeezing you to her body. “Just try. Try to live.” “I will.” You whispered against her chest.

You watch the soldiers hurrying to get in line on the ground and in the sky. Cassian’s red siphons glinted in the sunlight as you smiled sadly at him. Besides your mates and Nesta you’d miss Cassian the most. You two always had the best inside jokes.

You kneel on ground outside the tent, unsheathing your sword from your back and unlatch your shield. Lifting your sword you drive it into the hard earth and hang your shield from the hilt. You’re not going to need it. Besides, Rhys and Feyre would want to have it.

Making yourself unseen you weave in and out of the lines of soldiers until you make it to the front where your mates won’t see you. You stare down the line at them. They look so stoic and determined. They’ll get through this, they’ll win this war like they have before.

First is the magic. You let both sides do their thing, watching the world around you rumble with warring powers. The enemy side starts to slowly advance. Now is your opportunity.

You winnow to the middle of the battlefield. Rhys is banging on your mental shields, “What do you think you’re doing!” Slamming your sheilds up you push him out. The opposing side starts to run at you. Feyre let’s out a blood curdling scream and Rhys grabs her by the waist, keeping Feyre from running to you.

Turning to face them you see their distraught faces. You give them one last smile, sending love and adoration down the bond. You turn back to the army now sprinting at you. Digging your feet into the dirt you hold your hands out by your sides.

Closing your eyes you dove deep down into your power. You have been building it up for a year for this exact moment. To wipe what was left of Koschei and Hybern from Prythian. To show General Morgana she has nothing left but a useless cause.

A silvery-purple light flecked with swirls of night shine from your palms, then radiating from your entire body. You didn’t let go until the first soldiers were steps away. Realizing the mistake they made. The ground shook causing the soldiers to collapse but you stayed standing.

Locking eyes with General Morgana you saw her face contorted in shock and panic. You smirked at her. You let your power rip from your body. Violet night consumed the soldiers, ripping them limb from limb until they were nothing but ash on the wind.

You threw your power out as far as you could. Decimating more half of Morgana’s army. Good. Your mates would live.

Your power slowly faded around you. The beautifully grim night falling with you. You couldn’t feel anything. Not even the numbness that you were sure was taking over your limbs. All you knew was that you were falling. The trip to the ground beneath you feeling endless.

As your head bounced the last thing you saw was all out war, then nothing.

—

When the fighting was over Nesta was the first one off the battlefield. She came flying into your tent scaring the shit out of two young healers. They tried to ask Nesta to leave and she responded by basically growling. The poor females backed off letting Nesta kneel by your cot.

Madja’s apprentice, Adria, glared at Nesta over your body. Her signal to let Nesta explain what she was doing in here scaring her healers. “I can help.” Adria nodded.

Nesta laid her hands on your stomach, summoning her silver flames. Days ago the two of you discovered your magics complimented each other. Nesta could balance out your chaos. She felt your magic calming as soon as hers touched it.

Your shallow breaths changed to even one’s as your chest started visibly moving. Nesta let out a sigh of relief as she felt you come back from the brink of death. She slumped back on the floor and Adria announced that you were stable.

Feyre and Rhys shoved the tent flaps open, storming in ready to demand answers. Once they noticed the calm atmosphere Rhys immediately went to Adria asking her what was going on.

“She’s stable but won’t be up for some time. Y/n will need lots of rest given the amount of power she used. And you can thank Nesta, without her it would’ve taken us double the time to save her.” Feyre looked at her sister. Nesta didn’t know if she should be offended or not by the look of shock Feyre gave her.

Within the hour you were moved back to your room in the House of Wind. It was eight days by the time you finally woke up. Rhys and Feyre had tried to stay with you the whole time but they were needed around the city and dragged off to meetings on other courts.

Your eyes slowl6 blinked open as you took in the familiar sun lit room. Nuala entered with a tray in her hand dropping it immediately when she saw you sitting up. Soundlessly she ran off to alert Rhys and Feyre.

Minutes later you heard thundering footsteps racing down the hall. Your mates came to halt in the open doorway, silver lining their eyes. Without thinking Feyre launched herself at you, practically laying on top of you as she embraced you.

“You idiot! You stupid, stupid idiot! I’m so happy you’re awake!” She pulled back from you to look at your face. Hers looked like she hadn’t slept in days, worry lining her beautiful features. “Please never do that again. I don’t want to lose you,” Feyre quietly pleaded with you.

“Never,” you whispered. Rhys came into view, plopping down next to you in bed laying a smacking kiss on your cheek. Exhaustion was clear in his face as well. “Not to dampen the mood but we are going to have to talk about your powers.” Feyre smacked his arm. “Can you not kill the mood for five minutes?”

You giggled at your mates arguing. Using all your strength you snaked your arms around Feyre’s waist. Showing her it was ok to put her weight on you. Rhys ran his fingers through your hair and rested his lips on your forehead. Feyre tucked her face into your neck as you all sat in comfortable silence.

You’d have to thank Nesta when you were eventually allowed out of bed. This is just the start of their doting and mother hening. You didn’t mind though. You were just happy that you could be here to be doted on by your mates.

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wild-dagon · 8 months

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TOTK Role-reversal (part 2)

I know I’m late to the party but this idea has been floating around in my head for months. (Also spoilers for the game)

The classic role-reversal with Link and Zelda in TOTK.

Finally my last idea. Link gets the Spirit stone.

I don’t know about you but it bothered me at the end of the game that there wasn’t a new Spirit Sage. They brought Purah up there and then didn’t give it to her? (I was also expecting Paya to get it as all the other Sages were leaders (or the child of the leader) of their respective races. I really wanted to see Paya go from being unsure how to lead her village to an amazing warrior surrounded by other leaders for support but thats a rant for another post)

Anyhow Link.

Let’s tie this to BOTW. Link can see the Koroks (spirits of the forest) he can see the dragons (not everyone can) and in BOTW he talks to multiple ghosts. Heck even in TOTK he is able to interact with the ghosts of solders in the Depths to get weapons.

What if when Link goes back in time, his stone just won’t settle on a specific power. This is weird to Rauru and Sonia as they have never seen some one with so many different kinds of magic. Link is super confused as he doesn’t have magic. The other champions and Zelda have mystic abilities. He doesn’t.

You can stretch this confusion out to them going back to the castle and or you can make the next part happen on the way to the castle.

The one day they get attacked and Link goes to fight (he’s used to protecting people.) but he’s weak from the interaction with Ganondorf.

He’s about to get crushed when his stone turns red and a familiar crystal shield forms around him. “I gotta little buddy” He turns over his shoulder and sees Daruk. He’s in spirit form but he’s here, talking and fighting with Link.

Then the stone turns green. Air burst forth and Revali is up in the air shooting down the foe.

The stone turns orange and a bolt of lightning rains down on the remaining enemies as Urbosa steps forward.

Finally it turns blue as Mipha appears and heals Links wounds.

They are here. All of the champions are here. Link’s stone finally settles on purple.

Mineru explains that Link’s stone couldn’t settle on a color because it was sensing the remains of the champion abilities inside him. But now that the champions spirits have been released his stone has settled on his powers.

This leads to a lot of Mineru and Link bonding as she helps him master his powers. Maybe he can make the other champions corporeal if he focuses hard enough or if he masters his powers. Maybe he can give them a second chance at life. (Here’s where you could have some fun with shipping making it zelink, miphlink, or revalink)

Anyhow. Mineru is Link’s mentor. They both are a little crazy about building questionable contraptions. She starts to view him as her’s. Rauru was always going to have kids, she never expected to have one but Link is precious to her. As is he to Sonia and Rauru. They love hearing about their descendent Zelda.

Maybe Link and the champions are able to save Sonia from Gannon but he still gets his hands on a stone. Either stealing Sonia’s (without the murder) or by killing Rauru or Mineru. Or you could go super angst and have him get Link’s stone cutting him off from the champions (once again Ganon has taken them from Link)

In the final battle Rauru/Mineru/Sonia (who ever is alive) traps Gannon. Link either swallows his stone or stone give to him by another survivor.

Personally I like the idea that Gannon gets Links stone, Sonia seals him promising her descendant will come to stop him (I think Sonia’s faith in future Zelda could be super sweet) Rauru realizing his wife is gone and there is nothing he can do, gives Link his stone allowing Link to become the dragon and heal the sword. Mineru still builds her contraption knowing that Zelda will need a sage of spirit as Link will be preoccupied being a dragon.

Zelda gets guidance from Sonia and Rauru.

When it’s all said and done and Mineru is ready to leave, her stone goes to Zelda becoming the time/light stone. Meaning Link has a spirit stone Zelda covers time and light. The other sages are still around and the champions are back.

Zelda’s journey

You can also make this really fun by having the spirits of the champions guide the sages on their journey.

Maybe while spirit dragon Link is hanging out in the clouds that champion spirits hang out with him. When it’s time for the new sages to awaken they go to their home villages and appear to the new sages. So instead of just hearing a strange voice they see the champion of old.

When Tulin is out on his own he is struggling with a enemy that is suddenly shot from behind. When he tracks the shoot Revali is flying there. Their eyes lock before Revali flies off. Zelda arrives right after this moment, Tulin to tell her about the strange Rito that flew off. Tulin feels like they need to follow him and they do, all the way up to the sky arc. (Picture the Zelda chase scene in the castle but with Revali and sky boats.) Once Tulin gets his sacred stone Revali appears again (allowing for a sweet reunion scene between Zelda and Revali) and offers to stay near and train Tulin on how to use his powers as Revali had trained with the sage of old.

When Zelda arrives in Goron city it’s weird. Why are people talking about Link giving Yunobo a mask. Then she sees Link and chases after him only to find an enraged Yunobo. After getting the mask off of him the two talk about Link before seeing Daruk’s Spirit. Once again they chase him to the fire temple. Things play out much the same with Daruk as it did with Revali.

Arriving at the Zora domain Sidon doesn’t see Mipha until he fights the first sludge monster with Zelda. Mipha had tried to appear earlier but Sidon thought he was just seeing things from over working himself. It isn’t until he lets Yona help him and fights along side Zelda that he finally is open to seeing Mipha’s spirit. She leads them to the underwater cavern and to the water temple proper. Again always just out of reach never a word is spoken until after the sage is fully awaken and the boss is beaten. Once Sidon has his sacred stone Mipha is able to appear and have her reunion with her brother.

In the desert Urbosa is seen many times by other warriors but she cannot directly help them. Once Zelda arrives she appears to both Zelda and Ruji before disappearing. She appears again after they successfully defend the town. After they defend the bazar they see Link walking into the storm. Both girls go to chase after him but Urbosa appears and shakes her head No before disappearing without a word. Urbosa leads Zelda through the sand storm to the different light pillars, and lead them to the light temple. She doesn’t appear again until after they defeat queen gibdo and Riju awakens as a sage.

This build trust between the reader and Zelda and the spirits that are appearing. Which means when Zelda sees Link up on Hyrule castle she rushes to him. He’s leading her through the castle the same way the champions did. It’s unnerving as the champions moved like that because they were spirits and Link should be alive but Zelda is going to ignore that tidbit for now.

She follows Link to the throne room where it is revealed that he is Ganondorf’s puppet.

As they fight the sages and champions appear to help Zelda defeat the phantom Ganondorfs

After this they got to find the fifth sage. Mineru tells Zelda about the Dragon tears and how to view them using the purah pad. This is when Zelda does the dragon tear quest. Up until this point they were just weird geoglyphs but know she can view Link’s memories. She realizes that Link is the Spirit Dragon.

(You can also have a moment where she yells at the champions for not telling her. But how do you tell someone that new?)

She needs to find the Master Sword so she returns to the lost woods hoping Link returned it there in the past. She doesn’t know if the blade will let her pull it but she has to try.

After freeing the lost woods she realizes the sword is with Link. Maybe she goes to get it maybe she leaves it but either way she will be able to use it. It’s with Link and if he’s going to let anyone wield his sacred blade it would be Zelda.

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howlingday · 2 months

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What if Jaune was a Xiao-Long? Does he either inherit Tai’s puns but are actually good, or Summer’s obsession with weapons, specifically swords.

Well, let's talk about the changes that would come with Jaune being born a Xiao Long. I'm assuming that he's Raven and Tai's son and Yang's twin brother, since him being Ruby's twin would potentially give him silver eyes and take away Ruby's role as the innocent and pure soul that she is, since she'd have to share the big hero spotlight.

As a Xiao-Long Branwen, Jaune's eyes would be red, blue, or purple, which is a choice of colors I love. Like, Yang isn't red like her mothers or blue like her fathers, but a lovely mix of purple to show she is both her mother's and her father's child. So Jaune also being born with these would be nice, though him having either Tai's or Raven's colored eyes would be a nice contrast to Yang. Also, fourth option, just putting it on the table so it's there, Jaune being heterochromatic with red and blue eyes. But to be honest, that feels a little too OC for me. Honestly, I'm leaning to Tai eyes since it would give Raven more reason to not stick around.

Jaune would grow up with Yang and help raise Ruby, but I could see him acting more like a brother than a father with her. He plays video games and reads comic books with her, while Yang is acting more as a mother-figure, filling in the space Summer left. I can also see Jaune having a Luigi dynamic to Yang's Mario, with him being the more timid and cautious twin of the two. Like, I'm imagining the three leaving to look for Summer with Jaune making constant whines like "Yaaang, we should go back!"

Now, with Jaune's weapon, let's address the goliath in the room. Crocea Mors? Not a thing. There's no family heirloom for him to take from the wall to attend Beacon. Instead, since he'd attend Signal and Beacon with his sisters, he'd make his own weapons. What weapons? Ooh... That's... Oof... If you're familiar with my Ru-Ja-Gun-Con series, you know that there are A LOT of weapons Jaune could choose and be inspired by. I even hinted at one being a solid choice for me if I had my way, BUT that was Jaune in canon. This is an entirely different Jaune. However, since this Jaune is still, essentially, Jaune, I would still like to keep the Jaune Arc style, so I'll let him keep the sword and shield and say he was inspired by the fairy tale stories he would read to Ruby, and yes, it is the Rusted Knight. However, I'd also like to borrow from the Joan of Arc inspiration and give Jaune something from her arsenal. I'm thinking a sword and shield/sheath that can be turned into a crossbow! But wait, there's more! Since both Ruby and Yang use theirs for combat AND mobility, I'd like to suggest Jaune has a rappelling line/bolt that he can slide on. Neat, right? Now we just need a name... How about... Juniper Rose, named after his favorite character from his favorite fairy tale.

"But what about his semblance?!" The voice in my head cries, mimicking what I think is what you're asking. Well, since he is heading off to Signal and Beacon with his sisters, it would only make sense to have Jaune unlock his aura and his semblance, but instead of coming up with something wild like Juniper Rose, I'd suggest keeping Aura Amp as his semblance BUT obviously have it unlocked sooner. I'm imagining a scenario during training where Ruby or Yang got really hurt, so he rushes over to help them and uses his semblance to quickly heal them.

But yeah, there's my Jaune Xiao-Long for you.

#rwby #rwby au #jaune xiao-long #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #my answer #my thoughts

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allyriadayne · 2 months

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yeah i'm gonna need a full breakdown of the deleted rhaenyra and jace scene

LET'S GO THEN

there are SO many things i want to say about it. it's literally been my white whale since it was announced as a cut scene. i was hopping one of the scenes op talked about with jace was that i'm sooo happy it was. my main reasons were that 1) it's a jace/rhaenyra scene and those are always juicy and 2) jacegon reasons. i'll be using text from the original post here btw.

under the cut for more jace, rhaenyra, jace AND rhaenyra and some jace and aegon <3

"Daemon fights like an unrelenting tempest with little regard for his well-being [...] Daemon hungers for war, and he'll have it one way or another"

I love that the scene begins with daemon fighting other knights and in a sort of frenzy. he's obviously expressing his grief over viserys and visenya both, and how angry he is about the situation. i think it's such a great contrast with how rhaenyra and jace are presented in comparison. jace finds rhaenyra in "deep contemplation" as she watches over daemon. it's such a great element in their dynamic because as much as rhaenyra doesn't want war, she's as angry and as grief-stricken as daemon, but cannot express herself in the same way for fear of losing her image in front of the other lords. daemon has always been her outspoken twin, he's her sword and shield and like a dragon he's expressing what she cannot. it really is so good how they represent one half of a whole. delicious.

then jace comes to her and says

"Daemon wants to fight for us."

SO interesting that earlier in the episode we have jace and daemon in explicit opposition. daemon wants to act, jace is heeding rhaenyra's orders of not doing anything except by her command. daemon obviously doesn't respect him because he's a man who respects actions and jace is still a boy without experience neither political or in a war. i'm in the camp that while jace also doesn't respect daemon nor wants or likes him as a stepfather/father figure, he accepts him as part of the family and implicitly feels safe in his presence. he is his siblings' father, the man who raised (loosely! daemon is still daemon <3) joffrey when harwin and laenor died. he's known him for six years and seen him every day.

this scene is also after daemon threatens the KG in front of jace with caraxes so i think a minimum of respect for daemon's war knowledge made jace trust the he would do anything for rhaenyra and her children. /he wants to fight for us/.

"I wonder. Will you?"

"will you?" SO delicious because while jace will heed her commands to stop daemon from plotting, he does NOT agree with her approach! very very interesting. makes sense when he says "send us" when all rhaenyra wants is to keep her children safe. obviously direct parallel to ep 2:

"I will always fight for my family... but this is not as simple as one of the other"

rhaenyra is understandably reticent to enter war full on. her first experience with it has her losing a baby. and added to this is that just /the day before/ she's spent and more or less amenable afternoon with both family. it's not easy when it's not what viserys would want and what could possibly be his last wish.

it's also about alicent of course. it's not easy to give the order to kill or imprison the woman you considered your best friend and who probably is one of the few people with whom rhaenyra had a deep relationship in her life.

"It could not be simpler. If you accept Aegon's terms, you will forfeit my life. And Luke's and Joff's."

another crash between them! as much as they are a lot alike, they butts head more often than not, esp when jace doesn't agree how rhaenyra is handling an issue like harwin's funeral and now the war. but in all this, he still supports and respects her because he very pointedly questions her in private, both in driftmark and in here. when he was younger, he could've confronted her in public out in the yard, but to me jace learned very early or assumed to himself that he could be (and is!) her mother's most steadfast ally as her heir and young prince and that meant playing the politics game, and in this case to question her in private rather than in public where he could undermine her.

it also comes from the very public humiliation the kids, and jace as the eldest and most cognizant of the situation, have faced by their peers. he knows the power of rumors and whispering, what it does first hand and would not and does not want rhaenyra to face them too, or at least not from something he could've avoided. in this scene he is acting like one of her loyal lords, advising her to take one way or the other. acting like the prince he is.

it is also very interesting that he mention's "aegon's terms" when it's very obvious the terms came from alicent, maybe he doesn't know the full extend of the conversation on the bridge. in any case, it's clear aegon's on his mind. in early 2023 all we knew of the scene was that jace said "we shouldn't trust the usurper". jace wants to know what is to be done about him because he knows how aegon is, how long aegon holds grudges and his negative attitude (indifferent more like) to renew their old bonds (ouch!). esp after last night's dinner where aegon couldn't wait to bother him and join aemond in the antagonism to jace's immense dislike.

he thinks that if aegon had the chance he would kill them because they represent a risk to him claim. i personally don't think aegon would, but it's a real risk that jace is aware and that rhaenyra doesn't seen to grasp.

"Rhaenyra looks at him quizzically." "If you do not claim the throne, we will be taken hostage, or sent to the wall, or put to the sword. I do not know which fate will await us, but I do know they will call us "bastards" first."

the first line kills me because out of context it makes rhaenyra look naive but i think it does make sense for the rhaenyra we see in the bridge. what i said earlier, she's still reeling from the alicent from the diner /the night before/. the alicent that proclaimed her a good queen and begged her to stay with her. it's difficult! but i think it shows very well how complicated her feelings are in this.

this is also the point were jace and rhaenyra start having two different conversations: rhaenyra is still absent, "deep in contemplation", while jace is pushing and pushing. he wants answers, he wants to act! he doesn't care about alicent the queen who always sneered at him and called for luke's eye, he wants to ask about the boy from his childhood (girl, the parallels) who betrayed him so many times. and he's right! i think he's trying to soften the blow, this is the second time he's said he and his velaryon brothers will forfeit their life if they lose, if rhaenyra fails to act. this talk is also driven by self preservation and it's why he's siding with daemon this time. it kills me that rhaenyra has comforted luke all ep 10 but because jace is presenting himself as an equal in this conversation, not as her son, he doesn't get any kind of comfort. he's clearly thinking of death. and he's sixteen. and his mother doesn't know how to comfort him.

in this case, it's jace wanting rhaenyra to see him beyond of what he presents. beyond the perfect prince who's pushed through earth-shattering revelations about his identity. he wants her to see him and answer for once.

"but I do know they will call us "bastards" first". this jace knows with certainty. they might kill him or they might sent him to the wall, but they will call him a bastard as they do it. this is one of jace's touchiest points and weaknesses. every time he's called that he's flipped, due to under processed anger issues (hii harwin) and the repression he's going through to Just Not Think About It. i think it took a lot from jace to say this to rhaenyra's face. the first time it's when he confronts rhaenyra after harwin leaves and you see it's something he has thought about for some time

and later when they are in driftmark where the passions are high

note that he doesn't yell the word. he whispers it to her. he knows the power of it and how angry rhaenyra would become, it's a key word there. and one here too. in the cut scene he's trying to get... let's say a rise out of rhaenyra. to make her understand what will mean for them to get captured. to me it's so visceral because i don't think jace had ever consciously said or thought himself in such after driftmark and after aegon's betrayal. and i don't think that is how he framed it for luke when he told him about their parentage either. even in the audition for child luke, jace's lines frame the issue differently: "I think he thinks we don't belong here [...] we don't look like Targaryens. You must have noticed".

"Alicent gave her word that you would be treated kindly."

they are NOT having the same conversation!

"The word of an usurper means little and less."

either aegon or alicent, jace doesn't trust their word. the king and queen are one power in paper, but i bet jace is thinking about this too

his words means little and less to jace, he who was a victim and at the same time someone who enabled most of aegon's bullying behaviors. he knows him best. but jace also knows that aegon wouldn't bother with lies either. he was trying to unite the family during dinner, but time has shown him he shouldn't have bothered to carve himself to be someone aegon liked anymore. from the same audition video jace says: "so let us be good sons and please those who love us so they may forget what we lack". aegon will never forget! and even if jace or aegon want to break from this, they must play their part because they are too far along.

"In the yard below, Daemon can be heard SHOUTING for a fallen knight to get up and to come at him again. He prowls the fighting ground like a tiger protecting his den. He calls them out, taunting them -- a cruel avenger."

once again daemon as the externalization of their anger! "like a tiger protecting his den"!

"Jace and Rhaenyra reach stalemate; the conversation ends in silence."

my favorite part! this conversation could've never reached anywhere with these too. the issue is too thorny and they are too alike to want to see the other completely. jace is too angry and rhaenyra is too detached.

all in all, i wish they had kept the scene. it furthers rhaenyra and jace's relationship and gives a little bit more of characterization to jace and his relationship with aegon. loved seeing jace oppose rhaenyra and at the same time support her and take the lead when it's needed.

thanks for asking!

gifs mine, screencaps mine. script from the link above.

#ask #Anonymous #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x rhaenyra #aegon x jacaerys #WOOFFFF this took hours #i love you jace :) i love you rhaenyra :) i love you jacegon :)#aegon ii targaryen

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lutawolf · 4 months

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The Sign Commentary Review Ep 5

I'm going to link to my episode 3 commentary because I gave a lot of Thailand mythology information. While I will be watching the show for the first time now and giving you my commentary. I've been Ask a question that gave me heads up that a lot of mythology will show up in this episode. So let's go!

We start the series off with this guy who has a Naga back tat. Then we see the front with him dripping water down himself. I got to hand it to Saint, he really knows how to visually stimulate. Is he the killer?

Are we really gonna ignore that Tharn sees visions? 2. Phaya has gotten his period. I mean, I get it. Nobody wants the love of their life thinking they're crazy, but this has the hallmark of hormonal rage versus righteous anger. Maybe the lack of sleep is starting to get to him. 3. Where do we stand with the physical assault? Do we label this domestic or everyone else feeling that maybe something is off here? Like when a werewolf gets all testosterone before their first change. I mean, you can literally see the freak-out in his face after he realized he has hit Tharn. Which honestly makes me feel better.

Oh, so we now understand why Tharn saw the female and how she relates. And Yai proves once again just how special he is. He really put on that clown mask. That's just wrong.

There are two! Honestly, didn't see that coming. Ahh, well now it's more understandable why they were getting their ass kicked. It's Wit.

I mean, I'm having a hard time caring that he might be killed. Just go ahead and let him go. Tharn sees him getting hit by a truck. I'm so okay with that.

I mean, I get the logic of no vigilante justice. But... People who sexually assault rarely deal with serious consequences. Only about 6% of Sexual Offenders ever serve a day in jail. If an assault is reported (this is rare due to fear factors), there is a 50% chance of an arrest. If an arrest is made, there is an 80% chance of prosecution. If there is a prosecution, there is only a 58% chance of conviction. If convicted, there is only a 16% chance that they will go to prison.

Well, that was therapeutic. The parental guidance warning made me chuckle.

They found him! Now I'm nervous! Ahhh, don't save him Tharn, go save Phaya. Don't judge me, people. I'm a little blood thirty when it comes to this.

A Naga. Not good. He is using his power for the fight, and it looks like it's overpowering Tharn's. Surprisingly, Phaya is keeping pace though, despite the break out of power. Well, until he gets a rope wrapped around him, that is. I was in full support of you dude until you started hurting Phaya and Tharn. Now ya gotta go.

Shit! A lot happened fast!

Tharn steps in front of Phaya and gets stabbed. You can tell from home dudes face that he had never meant to actually hurt Tharn. Which means he knows he is a fellow Naga. Then why is he okay with hurting Phaya? Then we see combined powers. Both Phaya's and Tharn, with Tharn's being green, which is Naga colors. Golden red is a distinct color clue.

Garuda: Is a mythical bird-man creature that is the half sibling to the nage, but they are sworn enemies. The feud started when both he Garuda's mother and Nagas' mother married the same husband. The husband gave each wife one wish. The Nagas' mother asked for a thousand children, while Garuda's mother wished for two children superior to the Naga. The feud grew until Garuda's mother lost a bet ad became the servant of the Nagas' mother. Eventually she was freed, but her children swore vengeance.

The Garuda represents royalty, strength, and divine knowledge. With its fierce loyalty and warrior nature, the Garuda serves a protective function. It adorns shields, swords, and armor as a guardian symbol. The Garuda’s golden wings are believed to shine light on the darkness of evil and ignorance.

Soooo, right now I'm thinking our Phaya is a Garuda. It also explains why in their past life he rejected Tharn for being a Naga. There are some stories of Naga and Garuda that aren't enemy, though. These few stories are about devote Buddhist Nagas and as protectors of the faith, Garudas are unable to kill these particular Nagas.

Poor Phaya is flipping out while Tharn is very calm. You can literally watch Phaya's brain go into a "does not compute point." All because Tharn is glad his is safe and gently wipes his face. It's a stark contrast to the violence that Phaya has been giving him. This whole thing cools him down in the same way that a bucket of cold water would. Despite others showing up, they cling to each other.

Tharn is now cleaned up and very calm. Meanwhile, his other half is losing his shit. Dragging him away to try and get some answers. Finally, some much-needed communication and touchy-feely. I love the way Tharn looks at Phaya when he asks him not to leave him.

Look, he is all soft and gooey like a chocolate chip cookie. He might be talking about work, but his body language is saying something else. This boy is clearly touched, starved. Ahhh, I'm getting all the feels with this scene.

The nurses pausing and kind of turning back to them and then them breaking apart. Hahahaha!

This cute little micro smile. It means everything to have cleared things up with Phaya.

Guys... Someone on this show is an actual survivor. Cause this shit is too accurate. Yeah, they could have talked to a survivor but add it with other things, it's there. This is someone's therapeutic art. The writer? The scriptwriter? I haven't read the book, so I don't know.

Ohhhh, we're digging into his parent's case now.

Phaya staying the night with Tharn again. Slumber party! Yes, you absolutely should play a game of Doctor. Silly boy, he is cute though.

Oh! Another dream. Damn it! I want the real deal but... I mean, at least they are feeding us something. At least the dreams tell us that these boys clearly want each other. Oh, a daydream. Damn boy. Keep it together 🤣🤣🤣 He's trying so hard. I'm dead. I love these two. He is planning ahead, telling Yai to bring him lots of clothes. He'll probably have to crash there more in the future.

But nope, it's the stupid doctor. Who is clearly some kind of naga since Phaya's touch bothers him. He gives a strong kickback. So as I mentioned earlier, Garuda can't harm followers of Buddhism, but they can and will harm those that worship the serpent.

Nobody is buying your shit Phaya, but I'm with you on saying what ever you got to. This dude is creepy. He feels like he owns Tharn and I wanna know why. And we're playing doctor again! Which ends in cuddle time. OMG, I love Phaya so much. That is the fastest count to three that I've ever heard. Love it! Touch starved, Tharn is very handsy when he is sleeping. Phaya does not appear to mind.

Too cute!!!

Apparently, all that love goes out the window when he wakes up. 🤣🤣🤣

Ummm, home dude might be your adoptive dad, but he isn't a cop. Stop talking shop!

The precepts are rules or guidelines to develop mind and character to make progress on the path to enlightenment… The first precept consists of a prohibition of killing, both humans and all animals. The second precept prohibits theft and related activities such as fraud and forgery. The third precept refers to sexual misconduct, and has been defined with terms such as sexual responsibility and long-term commitment. The fourth precept involves falsehood spoken or committed to by action, as well as malicious speech, harsh speech and gossip. The fifth precept prohibits intoxication through alcohol, drugs, or other means.

Damn, Phaya over here tattling. Oh, no! Grandma is sick! Ha, he was tricked.

He is a cop. Of course, it's dangerous. This is why I'm oh so excited that two of my kids want to go into law enforcement. (said in complete sarcasm.) We do a tight focus of the eagle, he has wings on his back. I'm really thinking I'm right here. Damn, he is obsessed.

There is past life Tharn. Water and sky, the places where their other half reside. And there he is. Ahh, I get more and more excited with each one. I can't wait. 💜💜💜

#the sign the series #the sign bl #phayatharn #phaya x tharn #luta talks the sign #coconuts mafia

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aishnico · 8 months

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#𝘿𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙂𝙍𝙊𝙃𝙇: 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦

» summary: after an exhausting day, you felt like all heavy lifts were leaving your body when you saw your husband and daughter together playing

» word count: 1.3k

» warnings: none, just pure fluff, a little bit of nsfw content, lord of the rings content, grammar issues

there's nothing like coming home to your beloved ones after an exhausting day. and your heart melted when you saw your husband and your daughter playing one of the most iconic scenes of 'return of the king', where eowyn kills the lord of the nazgul.

when dave came back from the tour, your daughter clung to him like there was no tomorrow, and she refused to let him move at the moment. she was kind of offended by him because according to her, he was gone for too long. he promised to spend a lot of time both with her and you. so here we are, watching their little play. and you decided to watch them silently.

dave was approaching a toy horse with a large dragon plush between his legs. you couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. he was wearing a silver colored helmet which was made from cardboard with thorns. at the area where his eyes and mouth were colored in black. meanwhile, your daughter was wearing a simple silver helmet, only her eyes could be seen. which is also made from cardboard. your daughter then stood in front of her horse with her sword. "i will kill you if you touch him!" she hissed at him.

"do not come between a nazgul and his prey..." he spoke with a deep raspy voice. he then shoved his dragon quickly towards her. but she was fast enough to hit its head with her sword. he then fell to the ground, and she grabbed her cardboard shield. after he shot a glance at her he got up. swinging his morning star it was a plastic black ball with little thorns on it, and was tied with a rope while walking towards her. he quickly started to swing it towards her carefully, he didn't want to harm her, even slightly and make squeak noises. he hit her shield and it fell on the floor.

she was on the ground now, looking frightened. "you fool, no man could kill me." he said before holding her throat, not squeezing it. suddenly, you found a little sword on floor and after grabbing it you slightly hit your husband's back.

Your daughter (completely unbothered when you joined them) got up and took out her helmet, revealing her long, brown hair. "i am no man." she said before hitting his head slightly. he let out a squeak again and fell to the floor. she then approached you. "mommy, you saved me!" she ran up to you and hugged you tightly. you couldn't help but smile and kiss her cheek. "and you, saved thousands of soldiers by killing him!"

"i want a kiss too!" you heard your husband's whine when he took off his helmet. looking at him sweetly while he gets behind you and hugs you two, squeezing tightly. "daddy, can't breathe!" she whined.

"i'll let you go if you'll draw the little play of ours." "fine!" she replied and rushed to upstairs.

"careful there!" you shouted at her. you were now trapped between your husband's arms. tucking your hair strands behind your ear, kissing your forehead. "welcome home, sweetheart." you felt him smile on your head.

"even if i saw you just this morning, i already missed you all." you murmured while burying your head in his chest.

"i prepared a bath for you, go and relax there. after that, we can eat the meal together. she got hungry so she couldn't wait for you. i cooked your favourite, she helped me too!"

"oh dave..." you swore your eyes teared up. "i... love you so much. thank you."

"shh, no need to thank. go and relax now." he gently pushed you before giving you a peck.

you went upstairs and before you entered the bathroom, you peeked in your daughter's room. she was lying on her stomach and drawing what dave had asked her while swinging her legs. you were sure you were all going to watch a cartoon in the living room all night.

you entered the bathroom. after stripping, you entered in hot water. a relaxed sound leaving your mouth. soon you felt like your eyes were going to shut and you couldn't resist anymore.

you heard a knock on the door. you sat properly and waiting for a voice.

"babe? are you alright there?" you heard your husband's worried voice.

"uh, yeah." you responded, but you knew it didn't convince him. "if you don't mind, can you open the door?" he asked. you got up and unlocked the door, not minding to cover your body. not like he hasn't ever seen it.

"let me wash your hair and back." you smiled at him. "thank you babe, but you've already done such things. i'll be at the kitchen after like 10 minutes."

"babe, if you think you're acting like a child or a burden to me, just know you absolutely aren't. i'm willing to help you even in the simplest things." he stated. smiling to you genuinely.

"well then, i wouldn't mind if someone washed my hair." you answered to him while entering the tub again. he sat behind you. grabbing your shampoo and pouring a little on his palm. then rubbing and massaging slowly around your head. You swore a heavy lift was leaving your body. You just enjoyed the moment by relaxing under his touch.

"feeling good honey?" he asked you. you hummed at his question. "you're so good with your hands, baby." "oh yeah? what else i'm good at with my hands?" he chuckled. "hm, playing guitar, cooking?" you answered. "hm, what else ?" you suddenly understood what he meant. "david!" you raised your voice to him and he just laughed. "i'm joking babe!"

soon after you got clean and after drying yourself you were eating the food that was made by your husband and daughter. (you were sure your daughter insisted on adding more salt because she thought it was better) he wanted to talk about your day. but you said it was tough and not even worth talking about. so he was talking about funny memories that he hasn't told you yet from tour. you held yourself from not laughing while the food was inside your mouth. but your eyes got filled because of it.

after finishing the food, he helped you to wash the dishes. he sang you a new song he wrote a couple of days ago. you shared your opinions about it, telling him it would be better if he changed couple of words. but you didn't forget to praise his voice.

you three were lying on the couch now, watching some cartoon you'd find on TV. you were lying your head in your husband's chest while he laid his on yours. whispering sweet nothings to him quietly while he rubs his hand on your waist. his other hand was around your daughter's waist. she already fell asleep. also forgot to show you the drawing she made.

you carefully sat on his lap, wrapping your arms between his neck. and smooching his face with kisses. he couldn't stop giggling. he looked at his peacefully sleeping daughter. he gently pushed her away a little. wrapping both of his hands on your waist.

"you know, i'm so lucky to have both of you." you started. finally resting your head on his shoulder. "i don't, no... i can't even imagine my life without you. you both are my strength, you both are the reason i want to wake up every day. i love you, you can't even imagine it. thank you dave, for everything."

he looked at you confused. "why are you talking like you're leaving or dying? we are not going anywhere." he paused. "well, i may go often but i still come back home to you. you two are my home, and i don't want it to change even if a little bit. i'm willing to do everything to make you both happy. i love you sweetheart." he paused again to pat his daughter's head gently. "i love you too, my little heroine."

soon after, you two fell asleep in each other's embrace.

#dave grohl #dave grohl x reader #foo fighters #foo fighters band #foo fighters x reader #nirvana #nirvana x reader #dave grohl fluff #dave grohl fanfiction #grunge x reader #90s rock #00s rock #90s #grunge

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