#i know i’ve done it before and i might do it again
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How to Love .03
Trafalgar Law x F!Reader
Warnings: Fluff, angst
A/N: Sorry that it's shorter then normal but i can not tell you how hard i had to grind to get this shit out.
~~~
“Law? You alive?” Soft fingers could be felt gently skimming against Law’s forehead, making him lean into their warmth before his eyes snapped open.
Jumping up, Law looks around his room before seeing you kneeling down beside his bed. His heart slowly calms before finally finding the words to speak. “(Y/N)? What are you doing in my room?”
“Well, good evening to you, too.” Rubbing his eyes, Law looks at you with a confused look.
“What? Evening?” Turning to his alarm clock, he sees it’s 8 am.
“We had a power outage due to an unexpected storm last night. I thought you might have already fixed your clock, but I was wrong.” Law jumps out of his bed and opens his curtains to see a beautiful sunset staring back at him.
“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?! What time is it?!”
“It’s currently 6 pm. Also, I thought you were actually trying to catch up on sleep.” Standing up, Law looks at (Y/N) in bewilderment before pacing around.
“I have stuff I need to do! Shit, I need to pay bills.”
“Done.”
Stopping in his tracks, Law stares at you. “What?”
“I said done. I paid them.”
“I also made a sheet with finances on everything I know we’ve spent at least together in the last month. I didn’t go through your mail. Went grocery shopping and cleaned the entire house. I did save some financing things so we can go through them together.”
“I-”
“I did everything.” A silence covers Law and you as you both look at each other.
“Why?”
“You always work so hard! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep in once since I’ve known you! For a doctor, you think you’d take care of yourself more.” Law watches as you cross your arms.
“I…Thank you.” Law says in almost a whisper. “But never let me sleep in again.”
“But you look so refreshed! Even if you got wild bedhead.” You tease. Law grumbles before trying to flatten his hair, only for it to bounce back. You can’t help but giggle.
“Maybe if you take a shower, it’ll fix it.”
“Alright. Now get out.” You can feel Law push you out of his room before closing the door.
“What? No ‘Thank you for waking me up (Y/N)?’” You say sarcastically.
“I would have said that if it wasn’t 6 pm!” His voice rang from behind the door.
“So ungrateful!” You chuckle before walking away towards the kitchen. The smell of dinner is too much to resist.
As soon as Law heard you walk away, a loud crash and curse left your lips.
“Fuck! Bepo, no!” Law quickly put on a decent shirt before running out to the dining room. His jaw dropped as he watched you holding Bepo, who had a whole grilled fish in his mouth.
“Spit it out! How dare you eat my fish, you asshole! I thought we were cool!” Law was speechless, so he watched his cat and roommate fighting over fish.
Turning your head, you saw Law just standing there. “Law! Help me! Little shit has my food!” You get a good grab on the fish, and just as you think you’ve gotten it, Bepo takes another bite.
Law can’t help but stiffle a laugh as he watches you fight with Bepo. When you finally lost grip of the fish, Bepo made a break for it, which led you to begin chase.
“Damnit, cat! Give it to me!” Law hears you yell from down the hall. Chuckling, Law moved to what used to be the dinner you made. Paw prints everywhere as well as nibble marks from Bepo’s teeth. White cat hair covering every inch of food.
“He’s never jumped on the table and ate our food before. What’s gotten into him?”
He could hear you stomping and cursing your way back to the kitchen, telling him that you were unsuccessful in your mission. When you entered the kitchen, you stood beside him and looked at the mess Bepo had reduced dinner to.
“Looks like he ate good tonight.” Law chuckled, trying to lighten up your now-soured mood.
“He probably just gained all the weight we’ve worked so hard for him to lose! Why would he do this? He’s never done this before!” You whine. With a frown, you begin to clean up the ruined dinner.
“This fucking sucks. I spent so long on this dinner for you, and he came along and ate it!” Law’s eyes widen upon hearing your words.
“You made it for me?” Law watches you stiffen before going back to normal posture.
“Yeah, I did. I wanted you to have a stress-free day, but Bepo decided to be an asshole and destroy dinner!” You sigh as you throw away the destroyed food before putting the dishes in the sink to wash.
“I don’t wanna order takeout 'cause I know you don’t like fast food. I just…” You sigh as you try to figure out what to do.
“Takeout is not that bad. We can order something and watch TV…together?”
Feeling your heartbeat pick up its pace, you gulp before answering. “You sure? I don’t wanna force you to eat food you don’t like just to cheer me up.”
“I’m sure we can find something. I think Olive Garden delivers?”
“Olive Garden, huh? Never took you for a pasta fan.” You joke, trying to lighten up the mood.
“I’m a sucker for restaurants who put actual effort into making their food.”
You laugh. “And our old classmates said you weren’t funny.”
“What? Who the hell said that?” Law’s offended tone made you smile.
“Doesn’t matter. You're a doctor making big bucks and saving lives while they're cleaning Mcdonald's bathrooms for quick cash.” Law couldn’t help but feel a slight smile tug at his lips from your words.
A laugh escapes Law’s throat. “I guess if you think so, that’s all that matters.” Law pauses as soon as he realizes what he’s said. Yet he doesn’t see how his words bring a smile to your face.
~~~
You can’t help the smile that sticks to your face as you work endlessly to fulfill customers' orders. Your mind is running with the thought of Law and his smile.
“What’s got you all smiley?” Killer asks you as he cleans the counter.
“What? Am I not allowed to smile?”
“You are, but that’s not a regular smile you got on your face there.” His words make you stop in your tracks as you snap your head in his direction.
“You have someone on your mind, don’t you?” You can practically hear the smirk behind his mask.
“You don’t know what the hell you're talking about, Killer.”
“I bet it’s Law, huh? Doesn’t shock me. You’ve been his roommate for about five months and went through a breakup together.” You hit Killer in the arm.
“Shut up! What if someone hears you!” You whisper with a burning face.
“Afraid he’s gonna show up and hear me saying the truth?”
“Killer, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to murder you.” Killer only laughs as he looks at you.
“Yeah, okay (Y/N). Whatever you say.” You huff as you look down at the clean coffee machine in front of you. Killer’s words bouncing in your skull. You didn’t want to admit it, but maybe Killer was right. Perhaps you were falling in love with him again.
“I did have a thing for him in college. Before dating Eustass. I ended up falling for him during our time together working on that project.” Killer stops cleaning as he looks at you. Silent but wanting to hear your words.
“I don’t know what it was about him, but by the end of the project we were grouped together for, I had ended up falling for him. Hard. It took me a lot of convincing, but I thought that maybe he liked me too.”
“Did he?”
You stay silent before answering. “ I guess not because my best friend asked him out, and he said yes.” A deep pang shot through your heart as you remembered.
“She had told me afterward that she liked him since we started college but never told me until I talked to her about asking someone out. I didn’t say Law’s name, but he was the one I was talking about.” Sighing, you grip the counter.
“Her telling me she’s liked him since we started college broke me. How could I try dating the man I liked for a whole semester while my friends liked him from the beginning? It broke my heart to hear him agree to be her boyfriend. Having her bring him around was like torture the first few months.”
“While I, of course, never acted out of place with Law while he was with (.....), I only managed to get over him when I heard him say ‘I love you’ to her. That was when I knew I had lost. After a few months after that at graduation, I begin to date Eustass. After that, we slowly stopped talking and only saw each other when it was with (.....). Until five months ago.”
“When you caught Eustass and (.....)?”
“Yeah…When I caught them.” Your heart burns at the memory, but not as bad as it had been before. What used to be a stab in the heart now felt like a bee sting.
“How am I supposed to tell him that I’ve fallen for him again? What if he doesn’t feel the same? How am I supposed to live with him? Not to mention, ruin a friendship.”
“I suppose that does complicate things.”
“I don’t understand. How come this has to happen? It’s like the universe is doing this to fuck with me. Shoving something in my face that I want something I can’t have.” Killer stays quiet as he listens to you speak.
“It’s easier just to shove them down before you end up hurt.”
~~~
“Is that a smile on our grumpy doctor's face? What’s got you all happy?” the charge nurse teased Law.
“Your the second person to tell me that, and it’s annoying me.” The nurse chuckled.
“Oh, please, Law. Everyone can see you’ve got something on your mind, or is it…someone?” The nurse watches as Law tenses, and his cheeks dust pink.
The nurse squeals. “It is!” She claps her hands in excitement. "You have to tell me! I promise I won’t tell anyone!”
“No! I’m not telling you anything!” Law whisper yells.
“Aw, why not? I could give you advice!”
“I’m not telling you about my personal life! So stop asking!”
Huffing, the nurse gave up. “Fine! But here, there is a 3rd-degree burn case in room eight. Says a new co-worker turned up the coffee machine too high, and when it accidentally spilled on her hand, it scalded her.” Law snatches the clipboard and narrows his eyes at the nurse before making his way to room eight.
Opening the door, he expected anyone but the person before him. “(Y/N)?!”
“Hi, Law,” you chuckle nervously. “I didn’t know you worked in the ER.” Law can hear the nervousness in your voice. His eyes scan your body before seeing your bandaged hand. He carefully grabs your hand and looks at it.
“How did this happen?”
“A relatively new co-worker put the coffee temperature too high, so when I went to pour it and accidentally spilled some on me, it got all over my hand and burned it. I didn’t think it was that serious initially, but Killer made me come in. And now it turns out I have a third-degree burn.”
“Does it hurt?”
“No. Not really.”
“Well, you're an idiot for not coming in sooner.”
“It didn’t hurt other than the initial pain of being burnt!”
“That’s cause it burnt away your nerves!” Your shocked expression told him all he needed to know. Law sighs as he examines your burn.
“It’s definitely a 3rd-degree burn; you're gonna have to keep it bandaged and change it at least once daily. It’s not big enough to need surgery, but it’s still gonna scar. Drink a lot of fluids. I’m prescribing you an antibiotic to prevent infection.”
“Alright. Good thing I live with you. You can help me with it all.” You say with a smirk, causing him to roll his eyes but with a smile.
“But forgetting about me, how’s your day going? Did you drink your fluids?”
“I’m the doctor, and you're the patient. Don’t try that with me.” Law chuckles.
“You seem to be popular with the ladies' Law. A lot of nurses are looking at you from outside the room.” Law’s head snaps to the doorway to see a few nurses sticking their heads into the room through the doorway.
“I’ll be back.” You giggle as Law walks away and out the door.
Leaving the room and closing the door, Law turns his head to the nurses. “What are you doing?!” Law whisper yells at them.
“She’s the one that's got you all smiley, isn’t she?!” The nurses squeal.
“No, she isn’t! She’s just my roommate until she finds a place she can afford!” Law tries to defend himself, but the pink that swarms his cheeks tells the nurses everything.
“She is! And you're even roommates with her! That’s perfect! Come on, you have to ask her out on an official date!”
“That’s not happening! God, you people are so nosy!”
“What’s stopping you-”
“I’m not her type, alright?” Law snaps, causing the nurses to hush.
Running a hand through his hair, Law sighs. “I’m not her type, so even if I did like her, she wouldn’t say yes.”
“How do you know?”
“I went to college with her. That’s all your gonna get.” Law runs a hand through his hair.
You rotten his brain and wormed your way into his heart. Somehow, in the semester-long project he did with you all those years ago, he ended up gaining feelings for you. There was just something about you. The way you laughed, your smile, how you always seemed as happy, the list could go on.
He was sure you liked him too. How you looked at him couldn’t be anything other than it, right? You’d scoot closer to him when you both worked on the project—texting him about things other than the project. Bringing him food you had made.
He wanted to, oh, how he desperately wanted to ask you out. So when he got a note on the desk he always sat on had a note that said to meet him at the park, he was so sure it was you. It had your handwriting and everything. It had to be you. And when he saw (.....), your friend instead of you, he was shocked.
She had told him that you had written the note for her cause she was too scared to do it during school hours. She had even joked about a double date with you and a guy you were thinking about asking out. He felt his heart break when he heard it. Did he really jump to conclusions and think you liked him when you could have just been friendly?
All these thoughts ran through his mind that day. He didn’t know why at the time, but he did say yes to (.....) asking him out on a date. Possibly to forget the pain he felt? A distraction? He didn’t know.
But now, those feelings he thought were snuffed out reappeared stronger than ever. He wanted to be with you all the time. All he could think about was you. Even worse than college. His dreams were filled with images of you. He heard your voice when you weren’t there. Almost everything reminded him of you. He could look at a cloud and somehow be reminded of a memory you two shared.
Ever since you moved in as well, his diet has gotten relatively healthier. While he still drank coffee and energy drinks nonstop, you always ensured he ate. Hell, you’ve even started making him lunches to bring to work two months ago when you found out he usually didn’t eat anything during his shift. He couldn’t help but chuckle cause with every lunch came with a terribly drawn Bepo picture on whatever color sticky note you had. Each one he kept in his desk drawer.
“Law! What do you want for dinner?” You yell through the rooms door to Law, causing him to be pulled from his thoughts.
“Just roommates, huh?” One of the nurses asked with a smirk while the others held smug grins. They could easily see through the stoic doctor's facade.
“Just roommates.” Law glares before entering the room to answer your question.
“I give it another month before he caves.”
“I say two. He seems to be pretty worried about his friendship with her.”
“True, I say three, though. Gotta give him time to boil in his feelings for a little longer.” The nurses converse with each other as they try to sneak peeks at the doctor and the cause of his smile.
~~~
“Law, hurry up! It’s about to start!” You yell to him. The sound of his footsteps rings throughout the apartment, letting you know that he heard you.
“I’m coming. I’m coming. Give me a second.” Chuckling, Law sits down next to you on the couch.
“I’m so excited! I can’t believe they’re making a Sora: Warrior of the Sea show! You know what that means, right?” You squirm in your seat in excitement.
Putting his feet up, Law looks at you. “ What does it mean?” He says with a smile.
“That means every Thursday we get to hang out and watch a new episode! Doesn’t that sound awesome?” You can feel your heart beating out of your chest from happiness as you smile brightly at him.
Law looked down at you and felt his heart leap. You were so excited to be near him. Telling him how you couldn’t wait for it to be a common occurrence. Despite him telling himself not to go down this road again. He couldn’t help but imagine how it’d be if you two were an actual thing—feeling your warmth against his cold frame, holding you close. Laying down next to you at night, hearing your soft breaths. Being able to admire your calm features as you sleep. And even feel your lips against his.
Law could see you sitting next to him, so close your thigh touched his. You didn’t seem to notice or care, which made his heart beat in his ears. He couldn’t even pay attention to the show, as he was more focused on you and how close you were to him. There was an itch inside him, telling him to do something. Now would be the perfect time to make a move, even if it was small. So, taking a breath, he took the risk.
Law moves his arm up slowly before laying it behind you on the couch. His heart beats rapidly, as he pretends not to notice he’s done it, giving you quick glances to see if you’ve noticed anything. So far, to him, you haven’t
But you noticed right away.
You were screaming internally with excitement and nervously biting your tongue. Could it mean he liked you too? Was it an accident? Either or made your heart beat against your ribs. Your head spins as you try to act cool and not show how excited you were to have him so close to you.
If he had made a move, then who were you to ignore it? So, with an internal deep breath, you lean back against his arm. His warmth makes a shiver run across your spine. It felt as if your face and body was on fire from his skin touching yours. You curled your toes in your socks as you tried to contain a steady breathing.
You take a swallow the lump in your throat as you decide to take a jump of hope. With a sharp intake of breath, you lean closer into Law, placing your head on his shoulder. His cologne flooding you like a calming aroma. In his arms felt like a dream come true. Laying against his shoulder as his arm laid behind your head.
Even though the you told yourself that you wouldn’t fall for Law or act on your feelings, sometimes it’s okay to lie. Even if it’s to yourself.
~~~
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Prompt 14 - Forgotten First Meeting
@wolfstarmicrofic May 14, word count 964
Sirius had been set up on a blind date by his brother's best friend, Pandora. She’d declared she was tired of seeing him moping about with no one to love and demanded he allow her to set him up. Sirius apparently had no choice in the matter, and he couldn’t explain why he hadn’t just sacked it off and not turned up to the restaurant. But he had, and he’d even spruced himself up a bit.
“Table for two, should be under Black, might be Lovegood.” He told the host waiting just inside the restaurant.
“Ah, yes, here we are two for Lovegood. Will your guest be arriving soon?” The host looked behind Sirius as though his date would just materialise out of thin air.
“Hopefully,” He told the man. “It’s a blind date, so you never know.” The host nodded sagely, as though he got that a lot.
“Ms Lovegood, enjoys sending her projects to us. She’s never once had a no show, I might add.” Sirius felt himself redden. He and Pandora would be having words. “Right this way Mr Black, we have your table all set up.” Sirius followed him into a corner where a small table was set for two. It felt very intimate already.
“Thanks,” He gave a half smile to the man before he sat down. He opened the menu and glanced at the dishes.
“Can I get you a drink Sir?” Asked a waiter.
“Oh, yes. Gin and Tonic, please.”
“Right away, Sir.” The waiter bustled off.
A tall, bean pole of a man stopped beside his table. Sirius looked up and up and up from his seat. The man was well over six feet tall and fit as fuck. Sirius felt his insides do a little jig. Pandora had done good. His date didn’t look as impressed.
Sirius jumped to his feet.
“Hi, Sirius Black.” He told the giant, holding out his hand for him to shake.
“Remus Lupin.” The giant responded, engulfing his hand with his own. Sirius’s heart stuttered as he imagined those hands somewhat lower on his body.
“Sit, please, sit,” Sirius stammered, “Do you want a drink? Er.” He looked around for the waiter and was relieved to see him walking towards him with his drink on a tray.
“Here you are, Sir.” The waiter said, placing Sirius’s gin and tonic on the table in front of him. “Would you like anything, Sir?” He asked Remus.
“Whisky, neat, please” Remus replied. The waiter disappeared again.
“So, Remus. How do you know Pandora?” Sirius dove in, not comfortable with silences. Remus narrowed his eyes.
“We went to school together.” Was the only answer he gave. Right, thought Sirius, short and blunt. This was going to be difficult.
The waiter returned with Remus’s drink.
“Do you know what you would like to order or do you need a minute?” Sirius looked over to Remus. Neither of them had looked at the menu properly.
“I think we might need a minute, thanks.” Sirius smiled weakly at the waiter.
“Steak, rare, please.” Remus said as he glanced at the menu. The waiter looked at Sirius, who quickly looked down at the list of mains.
“Erm, I’ll have the chicken chasseur please.” He handed the menu to the waiter, and they were back to silence again.
“So, er, what do you do, Remus?” Sirius broke the silence. Remus scoffed this time.
“I work in a library,” He said bluntly.
“Wow, I bet that's interesting,” Sirius pushed a bit.
“I’ve been digitising all the old records. It’s mind-numbing.” Remus looked around as though trying to find the nearest exit.
“Have you found anything interesting in the old records?” Sirius tried again.
“No,” This wasn’t going well.
“Sorry, have I done something wrong?” Sirius asked. They’d barely been there ten minutes, and he couldn’t think what he could have done in such a short time to anger him so much.
“Do you really not remember?” Remus snapped. Sirius shook his head, taken aback by Remus’s tone. “Are you serious?!” Sirius had to bite his tongue not to respond how he usually would to that question. When he didn’t answer, Remus went on. “We’ve already met. You’ve been to my flat. Slept in my bed, amongst other things.” Sirius stared at him, trying his hardest to remember.
Remus shook his head in aggravation and one of the wall lights glinted off a silvery scar running across his face and Sirius remembered.
“Oh my God, Remus!” He hit his forehead with his palm. How could he have forgotten? He’d been so drunk that night and in the morning Regulus had rung him crying about something their mother had said to him. Sirius had had to sneak out to go calm his brother down. He hadn’t gotten Remus’s number and had forgotten where the flat was.
That had been months ago and Sirius had never been very good with faces. “I’m so sorry.” He pleaded for forgiveness and explained what had happened. Remus still seemed a bit grumpy, but he stayed. They ate their meals and Sirius treated him to a big piece of chocolate cake as an apology. Remus cheered up after that.
“So,” Sirius said shyly to him once he’d paid the bill. “Will you see me again or did I totally blow it last time?” He looked up through his eyelashes, knowing full well what effect that had on people. Remus closed his eyes for a moment, but gave in.
“Yeah, go on then.” He grinned. “Fancy a night cap? At yours this time, that way you can’t sneak out,” Sirius beamed at him and, taking his hand, practically dragged him from the restaurant. He could just hear the host chuckling to himself as the door closed behind them.
#wolfstar#wolfstar microfic#wolfstar au#wolfstar fic#wolfstar angst#sirius black#remus lupin#sirius orion black#remus john lupin#regulus black#pandora lovegood#sirius x remus#remus x sirius#sirius and remus#remus and sirius#things happened sirius#chocolate makes everything better#remus and his chocolate#forgotten first meeting
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Crushed 19
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.
Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine
Note: it's hump day, let's get humped.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖
Jonathan doesn’t drive you back to your building. Instead, you walk with him through the halls to his condo. You stop outside the door as he slips the bags up to his wrist and unlocks the door. He holds it open and waves you inside.
You enter, rubbing your arm nervously. It’s been a long day. A long few days. You’re exhausted. You catch a yawn in your hand as you hug yourself with one arm and peer around.
“I’ll have to go into the office tomorrow. Can’t be avoided much longer,” he explains as he puts the bags on the side table, “you will stay here. To be safe.”
“Oh, uh, right,” you sway back and forth as you press your palm to the side of your neck, “um, I don’t mind--”
“I mind,” he interjects, “I can’t trust that animal not to act as what he is. Darling, you must think, yes? Learn from your mistakes. We both know he’s dangerous. I wouldn’t put you in such danger and I would hope you wouldn’t walk right into it.”
“I know, I wasn’t... I just... I wouldn’t want to impose,” your eyes drift away meekly, “that’s all.”
“Impose? Have I not made my feelings clear?” He approaches you, brushing his knuckles up your arm, “I cannot get enough of you, fawn.”
You smile but it’s hard. You feel weak. The day is only half done and you could keel over. He brings his hand up to cradle your cheek, “what is it?”
“Just tired,” you shrug.
“Mmm, how about... I’ll run you a nice hot bath. You can relax. We’ve done rather much today... you have been through even more,” he gives a doleful look, “you let me worry for everything. All will turn out, I’m certain.”
“I guess,” you purse your lips. It’s easy enough for him to say. He still has a job, you’re not so sure you do.
“Darling,” he brings a bent finger under your chin, tiling your head, “I will take care of you.”
Your lips part but you quickly close them. You don’t want to argue right now. You don’t want to point out that everything is still fresh and new. Or that he might not feel the same in a month or two. Or a year. Especially if you’re unemployed.
One day he’ll see how worthless you are.
“So let’s get that bath going,” he bends to kiss your forehead, “I’ve some bath salts which may help ease the tension. I’ll light a few candles...” he rambles as he turns and strides down the hallway. You follow after him reluctantly, as much as the bath sounds nice, you already feel like a burden.
You stand in the doorway as you watch him remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves. He fusses over the tub as of you’re not there. The water spills out into the deep porcelain basin and he stands. He turns and gestures to a towel on a silver bar.
“That is clean,” he says before he opens the tall cupboard near the sink, “bath salt... rose.”
He reads the canister before he uncaps it. He turns to add a sprinkle to the water, the floral aroma rising with the steam. He sets it aside and beckons you into the bathroom. You cross the tile as you play with the hem of your shirt.
He brushes past you and you turn to watch him go. You face the tub again and pull up your shirt. You let your pants slip down your legs and as you straighten, you hear him return. He places a three-wick candle on the ledge above the tub and lights it.
He looks at you, his eyes roving up and down, and he smirks, “I’m almost tempted to join you, darling, but alas, I do have a few things to tend to.”
“That’s... okay,” you murmur, hugging yourself as you stand in panty and bra.
He scoffs, “why are you playing shy, eh?” He nears and tickles along your collar bone, sending a shiver through you.
“I’m not, I’m... cold,” you lie and turn your attention to the tub.
“Mm, if you need any help warming up,” his fingers flutter up your neck before he retracts his touch, “should you need me, you need only call my name, fawn.”
“Alright,” you eke out.
You wait until he’s past you but don’t check to see if he’s gone. You strip down the rest of your clothes and near the tub. You lift your legs over the edge and sink into the water. You sigh as the warmth seeps into you.
You close your eyes as the water continues to lap down by your feet. You try to let the tension out. You’re thinking too much.
💔
You button up the shirt Jonathan left for you. You still feel uneasy as you slip into bed but you’re too tired to care. You might be invading his space but he doesn’t seem to mind much. Besides, the hot water has finished you off. You just want to sleep forever.
Your eyes roll back and you hide from the world. It doesn’t quite fade away, still vaguely present on the other side of your eyelids. That hazy itchiness settles in your head but the fog just won’t thicken to darkness. You’re awake, barely, kept conscious by the nerves rattling in your chest.
In your stupour, you remain vaguely aware of your unusual surroundings. Despite the threat that lingers on the other side of the walls, you can’t help but miss your apartment. It’s the first space that was truly your own. All that’s ruined.
You hear a dulcet tone, a low hum that’s soothing a much as it is stirring. You roll onto your side and grumble, peeling open your eyes as your ears prick. Jonathan’s voice precedes him into the room. You blink at him from the bed, curled up under the blankets as your warmth keeps you in place.
“Yes, I will have her there, never you worry,” he says breezily, “mm, yes, I’ve the time. I’ll add it to my calendar. Shouldn’t be any issue.” As you watch him, he meets your gaze and his brows flick up as he grins, “thanks, Eugenia, can’t wait. Yes, you have a wonderful night.”
He pulls the phone away from his ear and you recognise the case and the cracked protector. It’s yours. What the heck? You sit up and reach instinctively for him.
“Hey, that’s my phone,” you accuse.
“Yes, it was ringing and I thought you asleep. It was only your mother,” he drops the phone on the bed next to you. “I could hardly answer between messages from that pest you call a neighbour.”
“What?” You grasp the cell and slide it closer.
“She only wanted to confirm the time for the engagement party next weekend. You can wear one of your new dresses,” he explains as he goes to the wall mirror and checks his reflection, smoothing his hair before he unbuttons his collar. He works a path down the row and the fabric slackens around his shoulders. “I’ve made certain to make record of each message that creature sends. We may just need to consult authorities.”
“Colin? I—I blocked him.”
“Please do not say his name. It’s absolutely hideous, isn’t it?” He faces you as he shrugs off his shirt. “It seems he has found an alternative, that chit he keeps around.”
“Ally?” You wonder.
“Mmm, is that her name,” he drones as he dumps his shirt into the hamper. “Well, we needn’t worry about them much longer.”
He continues to undress as you pull yourself up against the pillows. Things just keep happening and you can’t keep up. You look up as he wears nothing but his short cotton boxers and nears the bed. You peek down at your phone and put it on the night table to right of the bed.
“I do think you should call your landlord and give notice sooner than later,” he climbs onto the foot of the bed.
“Notice?” You echo in confusion, “why--”
“You cannot go back, darling, it’s not safe,” he tugs at the blanket, pulling it away from your body, “I cannot in good conscience let you return.”
“But I—we can just let things mellow out, right? Colin will get over it--”
“I told you,” he grabs your ankle, “do not utter his name at me.”
He pulls you so you fall flat on your back. You throw your arms out and gasp as your head bounces onto the mattress. He separates your legs and perches between them. You lift yourself on your elbows, breathless, and stare at him.
“I can’t stay forever--”
“Did I ever say that?” He challenges, his blue eyes blazing up at you.
“No, but--”
“I understand things have escalated quickly, fawn, but we will figure it all out. I will be certain to clarify everything at the office, let them know it was simply not your doing,” his eyes cling to your face and narrow before slowly descending.
He glides his hands up your legs, crawling closer on his knees. He slides his touch beneath the loose shirt and tickles your naked skin. He sends a chill through you that speckles hotly. He feels your body, running his hands up and your torso as you quiver.
He slips his hands above the fabric as he kneels between your thighs. He unbuttons the shirt to your belly button, unveiling your chest and bending to dote on it. He cups one side as his mouth explores the other; nipping and nuzzle. You let out a pathetic noise as you cradle the back of his head.
You arch your back as his warmth draws you in and chases away your doubts. His long fingers soothe you and his intensity overpowers you. As much as this man has you uncertain, you cannot resist him. It feels nice to be wanted even if it isn’t who you wanted.
💔
Once more, you fall asleep in the afterglow of Jonathan’s attentions. How easily he can obfuscate your fears and doubts. How his touch can so easily distract you from the things that might keep you awake.
The weight of his arm settles over you, holding you to him, his hard long body coiled around yours. He keeps a leg curled between yours as his hot breath seeps into your scalp. You’re content, you’re safe.
Your sleep is only disturbed as he untangles himself carefully from you. You don’t rouse entirely, clinging to the pillow and dregs of fatigue. He tucks the blanket under your figure and the bed shifts with the absences of his weight. His scent lingers behind him.
You sink back down and fall flat on your back, spreading out across the mattress. The late night lull settles over you, lulling you down as the distant drone of Jonathan’s lilted voice further coaxes you. You moan through your slumber and roll onto his side, longing for him to return.
You blink and the blue digits of the clock have changed. Twenty minutes and he’s still not back. You shiver and flutter your eyelashes, rubbing your cheeks as you force yourself awake. You sit up dizzily, you can still hear him.
You shimmy to the edge of the bed and stand. You hug yourself as a shiver washes over your naked flesh. The button-up is lost somewhere in the bedding. You put your feet down softly as you pad across the room, following his timbre as it come between sharper tones.
You creep out into the hall, a bluish glow drawing you in. You follow the cool hardwood to the front room and hide in the dim as you squint. Jonathan has his phone in hand, the screen alight as his profile is limned in its shine. He watches it intently as you recognise the voice chirping from the speaker.
“That’s so lovely, dear, hope we can see you soon,” his mother chimes.
You waver on your feet. Oh, you shouldn’t listen.
“Will she be coming?” His father’s gristly accent comes through.
You pause before you can back up. Jonathan clicks his tongue, “yes, I think so.”
“Jon,” his mother titters, “oh, that’s so exciting! That’s... big.”
“Eh, yes, don’t think you ever let us meet one of the birds,” he father chides.
“Father, she’s not... don’t call her that,” Jonathan rebukes.
“I’m teasing, yeah?” The elder Pine chortles, “you’re gonna have to warn her about us. If that place has made you so soft, I shouldn’t want to scare the girl.”
“Father,” Jonathan utters once more, “she’s... not... She’s perfect.”
His mom squeals and giggles. You gulp and press yourself against the wall. What is he talking about? He’s talking about taking you somewhere. To his home? That’s a far way. Something he should probably ask you first. His mother is entirely correct; that’s big. His compliments cannot counteract the shock of his one-sided decision.
You sidle along the hallway, careful not to place your feet too heavily. As you near the bedroom, your elbow hits the frame and the thump casts silence through the apartment. Shoot.
You peer toward the front room and see Jonathan’s shadow closing in. He must have heard your misstep. You quickly flit into the room and ease into the bed. You pull the blankets over you and turn your back to the door. Your heart is racing.
You sense him in the doorway, watching you. Silent.
“Everything okay, son?” His father asks.
“Yes, it’s... fine,” Jonathan answers, “I’ll let you go. Wouldn’t want to wake her.”
“Oh yes, get some sleep,” his mother insists, “love ya.”
“Night, son.”
Jonathan crosses the room and you hear his phone meet the table on his side of the bed. The mattress dips as he climbs in and pulls the blanket over himself, nestling in close to you. He sighs and hums as he hugs you to him once more.
You lay, frozen and silent, praying he can’t feel your pulse.
“Did I wake you?” He whispers and kisses your crown.
You force a groan from your throat and feign grogginess, “hmm, oh, no...” You wiggle into the mattress and yawn, putting your hand over his.
“Back to sleep, darling,” he purrs as he nuzzles you.
#colin shea#jonathan pine#dark colin shea#dark!colin shea#dark jonathan pine#dark!jonathan pine#jonathan pine x reader#colin shea x reaader#what's your number?#the night manager#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#series#multifandom
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Labyrinth ⥃ Aemond Targaryen
Summary: falling in love is easy for most people, but not for Aemond Targaryen. How can a broken cold-hearted man be able to love the most gentle human Westeros has ever seen?
Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, very very gentle, angst angst angst angst!!!, humiliation, reader is Daemon & Laena’s oldest daughter, no description for reader (besides white hair) you can imagine her however you like, Aemond is a vulnerable & insecure baby girl, like he is really really insecure, mentions of murder, fluff, nightmares, chronic pain, mentions of Aemond’s injury, anxiety attack, babes are in looooove, English isn’t my first language<3 it’s very heavily plotted and the smut is at the end of the story.
Word count: 11.5k (she's so long but worth it)
a/n: I’ve always wanted to write something with this kind of trope, especially when it’s from the man’s pov, and there’re so little fics that get into the depths of Aemond’s pain and suffering so I needed to try and write something that says his part of the story as well! Please please tell me your opinions and favorite lines of this piece! I’ve worked sooo hard for this fic and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Reblogs and comments are appreciated<3🩷
A very special thank you to my babies, @namelesslosers & @neptuneiris for beta-ing and supporting my ideas😭🫂✨
“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice?”
Aemond watches the scene unfold in front of him; his mother seeking justice for him, slashing Rhaenyra’s forearm with the dagger in her hand, spilling her blood in fury.
He looks around the room, finding you scared behind your grandfather, looking at him with wide teary eyes. He scowls when he sees how you look at him with pity, thinking he is a deformed monster in your eyes, to his best friend’s eyes.
You leave the hall in a rush, and he scoffs at how unbearable he must look for you to go in such haste, allowing this injustice to wreck his world and him to cope with the aftermath alone. How could you leave him like that? What happened to all the hours he helped you build that stupid sandcastle next to where Vhagar lays? Did you forget every moment, every laughter you had together?
He stands up and walks to his mother, telling her that Vhagar is worth it. But is it true? It might be worth gaining the largest dragon alive, but in the back of his mind, he thinks about how he has lost you.
No, you left him, he hasn’t done anything wrong. He is the one with his eye in a tray, he is the one who needs tending to for the first time, and you left him while he and his mother were humiliated by Rhaenyra and her bastards.
The morning comes sooner than expected, the milk of the poppy knocked him out immediately last night. He walks down the stairs where his family is gathering to leave, his mother holding Helaena’s hand while god knows where his father is, probably saying his goodbyes to his daughter and Princess Rhaenys.
Aemond moves toward the hill that Vhagar is sleeping on, catching the sight of you waiting for him next to the sandcastles he helped you build yesterday after your mother’s funeral.
“What do you want?” he asks, standing in front of you, trying not to frown too much to loosen his stitches.
“I-I wanted to ask how you were doing…”
“After leaving me all alone? You were my friend! I needed you and you left me! And you ask how I am after I got my eye cut out?” He shouts at you, waking up Vhagar from her drowsy nap.
“I-I don’t have any excuses, but Aemond, please—”
“No, I hate you! I hate your stupid hair, your eyes, your laugh, even-even your sandcastles! They are so childish and-and ugly!”
“I know you are upset with me, and I’m so sorry for what happened to you, but please let me—”
“No!” he yells at you again, marching toward the castle next to your feet before he stomps all over it, screaming and crying while he ruins the perfect sculpture he himself has made for you.
“Aemond…” the sob that wrecks through you makes him stop, but you are not looking at his feet, you are looking at his face, crying for him. He doesn’t spare a glance at you when he walks to climb Vhagar’s saddle, but guilt overwhelms his emotions and dread fills him.
You just wanted to talk, and he treated you so poorly even if his anger was justified.
Oblivious to him, as soon as he and his family were gone, you ran to your grandmother, crying in her arms and begging her to allow you to study with Maesters, in hopes that someday you may help your childhood friend with the pain he will carry for the rest of his life.
•••••••••••
Jacaerys’ name day, another pathetic excuse to have his sister and her pups in the capital under the same roof, drinking and wasting the crown’s money. He can’t blame them though, they’re desperate to get on the lords’ good sides by showing off their heritage, going with songs and praises for the heir after his mother.
Unnecessary, stupid…
Aemond groans, running his hand over his face as he wakes up with the sounds of banging in the hallway. He knows that they’re arriving today, and he’s aware that the royal chambers should be ready when his sister makes a face, but to wake him up at such an early hour after the rough night he had should have severe consequences.
With another deep groan, he sits up on his bed, looking at the sea from between the sheer curtains of his room, watching the sunlight shine bright on the surface of the water, Sunfyre and Dreamfyre already taking turns in the sky over the city.
He stands up, looking down at the soaked undershirt he had on during sleep, exhaling deeply as he pulls the fabric off, slamming it down on the couch as he walks to the balcony to get some fresh air. The morning breeze hits his sweat-covered chest, stinging the empty socket of his eye.
He knows he should go back inside, to cover his scar and avoid pain from the cold wind, but the contrast of the coldness of it on his heated skin is soothing his mind, calming his beating heart. He will regret it during the day, but for now, after experiencing yet another nightmare, he needs to feel alive again.
As soon as the sharp pain starts from the depths of his skull, he moves back, shutting the door and pulling the curtains closed. He stands straight, his nails digging inside his palms as he controls, or tries to control his breathing.
It always starts like this; a sting, then another one but sharper, then a minimal pain that surrounds his scar, and finally, the stabbing pain all over his face followed by the worst headache someone can ever endure.
He reaches for the nearest surface he can lean on, knuckles turning white as he keeps his weight up, trying not to fall on his knees just yet.
He can do it, he has done it countless times.
Aemond steadies himself on his feet before he sighs shakily, walking towards the clothes his mother’s servants laid down for him yesterday. It is a simple outfit; a leather tunic with black pants and a fresh beige undershirt. Nothing too fancy, and nothing less regal that a prince should wear.
He takes his time while getting ready, allowing the phantom pain of his eye to fade away slowly. Before he can button up his tunic, his chamber servants come running in, putting a bowl of water with a warm towel on the side desk while they prepare his breakfast. He covers the left side of his face with his hand so as to not scare them with the unbearable sight of the empty space in his face.
He watches them with a sleepy gaze as they clear the room, slamming the door behind them. Aemond sits in front of his mirror, taking the brush in his hand to untangle his unruly hair.
There are no thoughts in his head as he stares blankly at his reflection; he hates his scar with a passion that could set the realm on fire. There is no gentleness in his features, everything is sharp, angular, and rough. There is no trace left of the boy he was before his nephew took out his eye.
Doomed before he could even try to become someone worthy.
He ties his hair, revealing more of the healed wound and the dark empty socket on his face. Sometimes he gets stuck inside the labyrinth of his head, running and running until he reaches the middle, but it’s never enough. At the end of the maze, someone drops dead; whether he kills them or they kill him. There is no escape from these dreams, from these self-destructive thoughts that haunt him day and night.
He reaches for a box on the vanity, pulling out the sapphire gem before reaching for an ointment Maester has given him to help the gem fill his eye socket without pain.
He looks at himself again; he looks less like a brute, the gem adds to his beauty but in his mind, it’s not enough, it’ll never be. He sees his brothers, healthy and handsome, being subjected to women’s attention all the time, and sometimes he wishes desperately to be in their place, to be able to talk to a lady without frightening her. But he has learned that a maimed man is less worthy than a whore in Streets of Silk, so he exercises and trains daily to become worthy again, to live up to his Targaryen name. There are deep yet little scars adorning all over the skin of his hands and arms — a reminder of how he has become the man he is.
He eats his breakfast in silence, tension rising in his shoulders as the smoke of the candles on his desk reaches his eye. He drops his spoon on the table, blowing the candles out before he reaches for his eyepatch.
He has told everyone that there shouldn’t be any scented candles in his rooms, but as it seems no one ever pays attention to what he has to say, not even to help with the pain of his eye.
He stands up, knocking a few plates on the table to the floor, smearing fresh fruits on his carpet. A deep groan rumbles through his chest, but he can’t care less about anything other than the fact that he needs to join his family in the throne room — and he does after he grabs his dagger and secures it in his belt.
“Ser,” Aemond nods at his appointed guard, earning a ‘good morning, my prince’ from him. Aemond walks down the stairs with his head held high, scoffing at the servants who make a path for him hurriedly, trying to avoid being seen by him or see him.
The bustling of the castle is irritating; everyone is running from one corner to another and decorating the keep for their princess’ arrival. He is not annoyed that he has to reunite with his sister and nephews, but because he has to endure their presence for longer than necessary, to look them in the eye and act civil as if the pain he copes with already isn’t enough torment from them.
He nods at Ser Cole, who follows him into the crowded hall, eying everyone who is waiting for the Realm’s delight. Aegon and Helaena are standing side by side, his sister is clutching Aegon’s arm tightly as the crowd makes her feel small under its gaze. His mother looks at the throne silently, and he can see the hesitation in her eyes — how are they going to go through these weeks of celebration, they have no idea.
“Good morrow, Mother,” he whispers as he stands behind her, his eye softening at the small smile she gives him, “you look radiant this morning.”
“Hush you, sweet talker,” she chuckles lowly, rubbing his arms lovingly, “have you heard about the Velaryons’ arrival?”
“Lord Corlys is coming as well?” he asks, shifting on his feet nervously, his fingers tightening slightly on Alicent’s elbows, “I did not know…”
“Neither did I, darling. They shall arrive at the same time as Rhaenyra, at least I know Daemon’s eldest will.”
“Driving on dragonback, obviously,” he mutters, sighing shakily.
Alicent notices his hesitancy, she gently cups his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eyes, “Do not project your anger on her, she was but a child.”
“Yet she kept silent that night. She was supposed to be my friend,” he says, looking away from his mother, lowering his head in shame, beating himself for letting his emotions take hold of him.
“Give your courtesy and leave if you wish not to talk to her,” Alicent smiles sadly at Aemond, patting his cheek before they both look at the doors of the hall.
Something in his guts drops when he sees Rhaenyra entering, her family walking towards them, all smiling and laughing as if they aren’t going to experience the most dreadful weeks of their lives.
“Your grace,” Rhaenyra says, trying to break the visible tension between the families. The crowd goes silent, and the only thing they can hear is the soft exhales of the people close to them, everyone waiting with bated breath to see what happens in a few seconds.
“Princess,” Alicent smiles, “welcome back to your home,” she replies politely, giving Daemon a half courtesy before she congratulates Jacaerys for his eight-and-ten name day.
“Aegon…”
Aemond looks away from his sister as she acknowledges them all, instead his eye finds Daemon’s who is staring back at him with a smirk on his face. Aemond’s gaze doesn’t waver, and Daemon chuckles at that, giving him a challenging look.
He looks back at Rhaenyra who says his name, giving him a forced smile before she turns around quickly and asks for the King.
“He is quite unwell, he shall join us in the evening,” Alicent explains, telling the maids to make haste and set the garden ready to start the celebrations; nothing too fancy for the noon, a tea gathering in the garden to reunite everyone, or at least to make sure the court has something to gossip about.
Aemond follows them slowly, taking time to observe each and every one of them. He can’t shake the uneasy feeling that settles in his chest as his eye finds Lucerys Velaryon, laughing and looping his arm with Rhaena. He looks away immediately, lips forming into a sneer as he walks with his hands behind him, grinding his teeth while he thinks about how he was robbed of everything good because of that bastard, because of the hideous scar he gave him.
The garden is filled with new bushes; roses, lilacs, daisies, and surprisingly winter roses. The sight would have been quite beautiful if all this fuss wasn’t for his nephew. He walks away from the crowd, making his way toward his siblings who are trying to appeal content with the events. Helaena is in her own world, lifting a worm from the ground as she counts its feet. Aegon is gulping down his wine while he listens to Daeron telling him about whatever book he has read these past few days, or at least he seems like he is paying attention.
Aemond sighs, grabbing a goblet of wine himself to nurse on it as he tries to distract himself from the chilly wind that hits his face. Luckily the eyepatch covers his eye socket fully and doesn’t let the cold breeze hit his scar, but the tension in his bones has remained from the morning rush of pain he experienced earlier. It’d be best if he left this pointless gathering earlier anyway.
“How are you faring this beautiful morning, brother?” Aegon asks him, grinning sarcastically. Daeron groans in response, even though the question wasn’t meant for him. Everyone can tell he is fed up with Aegon’s constant teasing of Rhaenyra’s family coming back to Red Keep.
“Well enough to know I will be leaving in a few minutes,” Aemond replies, sipping on his wine as he catches Luke stealing glances at him. Pathetic, he is too scared to even look at him properly, he is glad though, it gives him a sense of comfort to know the mark he has left on his face scares him enough to keep him away from him.
“Can’t do that! It’d be rude if you left without saying hi to our favorite Velaryons.” Aegon smirks, tipping his head back as he laughs at Aemond’s sneer.
“As much as I hate to say this, but the idiot is right; you can’t give them more reasons to resent us,” Daeron says, looking at his older brother with kind eyes, “besides, they are here anyway.” he points at the passageway leading to the garden, catching the sight of Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys walking side by side toward the crowd.
Aemond’s heart stops for a second when his good eye lays upon you, following your grandparents with a gentle smile grazing your lips. You are a sight to behold; silver hair falling around your shoulders like curtains of moonlight that shine bright like a diamond beneath the morning rays of sunshine. Your gown the bluest of blue that shows your devotion to your mother’s house, and your lips painted pink in the most alluring way…
Aemond’s eye sees a sight his mind can not comprehend, too unreal and beautiful that makes him doubt if he is seeing you with his sapphire eye through the patch.
His face is blank, but his heart is beating so fast he can hear his pulse in his ears. His eye follows you, watching you bow before his mother and sister, looking away immediately to find your sisters already giddy to hug you. Rhaena is the first to run to you, wrapping her arms around you while Baela approaches you slowly, letting her twin have her moment with you.
He doesn’t move from his spot, he can’t move even if he wants to; he’s struck between shock and something he can’t pinpoint; he can only say for sure that he hopes it’s a rush of adrenaline of not seeing you for so long.
The only time he looks away from you is when Daeron pats his back and encourages him to join everyone to say hello and welcome your family to the Keep. He doesn’t need to say a word, just a nod at both Corlys and Rhaenys is enough, but when you turn around to greet him and his siblings, his breath gets stuck in his lungs.
You look at him from beneath your lashes, beaming so radiantly at him that he almost forgets the pain in his eye or the pain he has caused you the last time he saw you. The world around him fades away, the noises become distance as his sky-blue eye finds yours easily, and he has to swallow sharply while he desperately tries to keep his face stoic and serious and not show you how he is panicking from inside, palms sweaty and lips drying while he gazes at you, his childhood friend who… suddenly the bubble around you breaks and he remembers how you abandoned him that night at Driftmark.
“My lady,” he says in a hushed tone, watching your reaction closely.
“My prince, it’s so good to see you again,” you grin at him, “I hope you are doing well.”
“As well as a half-blinded man can do,” averting his eye from you, he regrets the words he said immediately, flushing a bit in embarrassment, but when he looks back at you, your smile hasn’t left your face, if anything you look at him with empathy and much kindness that he has a hard time believing you are real; it’s been too long since anyone has looked at him with such sincerity.
“Darling,” Daemon steps closer to them, ruining the moment for Aemond to say something, anything to take back what he said earlier.
He watches your smile wavering a little when you look at your father, hands fidgeting with the skirt of your dress. He notices how you try to ignore your father and Rhaenyra as they approach you, a tense smile on his sister’s lips while she tightens her grip on her husband’s arm.
“We have missed you, the girls, and I,” Daemon says, reaching to caress your hair as gently as the Rogue prince can, “you did not visit us at Dragonstone.”
“I don’t like it there, the castle unnerves me,” You reply softly, “I rather enjoy the silence of grandsire’s castle.”
“You are a Targaryen, you should visit your ancestor’s sit,” Rhaenyra tries her best to persuade you to think about coming back with them, leaving your lovely grandparents alone.
“I’m a Velaryon just as much as I’m a Targaryen, but ‘tis not a matter we should discuss at such a joyous day, don’t you think, princess?” you say, and Aemond sees it in your eyes how desperately you wish for the conversation to end.
Aemond watches his sister’s words falter, her confidence crumbling with each word that you utter. Your statement is not rude, not even filled with malicious intent, but the mention of your Mother’s side of the family makes the Targaryen couple uncomfortable.
“I would have loved to stay and talk with you, Father, but I’m afraid the journey on dragonback has left me starving. Please, excuse me,” you nod at them before walking past them to the corner where Aemond and his siblings were sitting minutes ago, reaching for a glass of wine to gulp down.
Aemond doesn’t spare a glance at the couple, following you closely so he can sit in silence and out of the sun, truly not wishing for another fit of agony that consumes his skull.
“You have grown, Aemond,” you sit beside him, turning your head to look at his side profile, “no longer the child who used to build sandcastles with me when I would visit the Keep.”
“Yes, no longer a child with friends. Spending years apart without any contact, surely you are not that surprised how I have turned out to be,” he scoffs at your words, frowning when he turns around and finds you chuckling gently, “Did I jest about something I’m not aware of?”
“No, no, I just remembered how we promised to never let anyone break us apart, but you were the first who did so; you stomped your feet on my sandcastles the morning after my Mother’s funeral. You are right though, no ravens were exchanged, but I do hope you’re still the sweet prince who helped me study.” your lips twist into a small smile.
You are not angry with him, how can you not be angry with him? You had spent hours after they freed your Mother’s soul into the sea to find the perfect place to build your sandcastles and he ruined them the morning he was about to leave.
Your teary eyes have haunted him from that moment to this day.
“I apologize, I did not wish to remind you of that night,”
“I’m reminded every time I look into a mirror, do not concern yourself.” his reply is curt as he gazes at you, your eyes full of sadness and sympathy for a man you no longer know. Or maybe you know him too much, he thinks.
“I look forward to spending time with you, my prince. I hope we can catch up on each other's lives.”
“Perhaps we can,” he sounds unsure of himself, Getting to know you again while you have turned into a woman grown — the most beautiful woman he has ever seen at that — is going to be a challenge he does not know he welcomes or fears greatly.
•••••••••••
He leaves sooner than he should, hiding in his room with a warm towel on his face as he soothes the pain of his eye, the headache he had since morning finally fading away. There are so many thoughts lingering in his head, and ironically, they are all filled by you; your gown, bright smile, and gentle personality.
He groans, so frustrated that he has met you a few hours prior yet you have consumed his every thought. If he focuses hard enough, he can see the labyrinth of his nightmares, the hedges are covered in ivy, suffocating as they reach for air — he thinks of him as the hedge, and how easily he has let you wrap yourself around his thoughts this quickly.
Weak, he thinks to himself, he’s weak.
He sits up, dropping the towel in the bowl on his nightstand, breathing deeply as he looks around his dark room, spotting a lit candle on his desk in the corner.
Sometimes it baffles him how his room represents his inner self so openly; it’s not messy, no, but if you squint you can see the abandoned book in the foot of his chair, ink dripping from his pot on the carpet, the candle illuminating the trail of black paint on his desk. It seems as if his room is showing the ugly part of itself to his eye, and for a second he thinks about how he sees himself — an ugly monster with an unsightly scar.
Aemond leaves his room a few minutes after fixing his eyepatch and hair, walking to the king’s solar to join his family for dinner. He walks with his hands clasped together behind him, looking straight to avoid eye contact with anyone who sees him on his way up the stairs. He doesn't expect to see you of all people, heading out of your room to take the same path as him.
“Aemond!” You say his name with such enthusiasm that has his heart racing again, beaming at him as if you are excited to see him. How could you be this giddy to meet him? No one has expressed to be happy to spend time with him, let alone smile at him the way you do. Is this an act of modesty? It has to be, he thinks, or else it does not make sense at all.
“My lady,” he bows his head politely, “How come you are late for such an interesting gathering?”
You giggle a little, walking side by side with him, “I was spending some time with Helaena’s children. Oh, they are such sweet babes!”
“Indeed they are,” he replies quietly, watching you curiously as you round him to stand on his good side, “what are you doing, My Lady?”
“I did not realize I was on your blind side, Aemond, forgive me,”
“There is nothing to forgive,” he sucks in a harsh breath, pondering over your response for the rest of the way til King’s solar. The silence is oddly comfortable even though he gets a bit nervous when you keep glancing at him.
There’s an unusual warmth spreading through his chest, he can’t understand it — it can be his heart since it’s beating too hard and fast, or perhaps even his lungs! He can’t even breathe properly, but at the same time, he feels… right, much better than before. He blames you for the conflicted emotions, it’s all your doings, he is sure. Because whenever he looks at you, he feels as if his clothes are suffocating him, his ears ring while the world fades around him, and the center of his world becomes you.
Weak, worthless, he has just met you, yet all these years apart seem blurry to him, as if he has known you since the age of the Firstmen; so familiar and comforting, even though you left him alone the night he needed you the most.
The guards open the door to the solar, and Aemond follows you inside, his eye wandering all over the room, taking his surroundings in. His mother and Rhaenyra are sitting at the table, his nephews are standing on their mother’s side while Aegon is trying to listen to whatever lecture Otto is giving him.
He watches you walk to your sisters, wrapping your arms around Baela and Rhaena as they both start talking to you about the things they have done during the past years you’ve been Lord Corlys’ ward in Driftmark.
“You’re staring,” Daeron says out of nowhere, pulling Aemond out of his thoughts but he doesn’t look away, he keeps his eye trailing on you until you turn around and catch his eye as well, smiling broadly at him.
“I am merely observing,” he replies, but knows his brother is right. It’s only the first dinner but he can already feel his eye itching to be on you again.
“Whatever makes you happy,” Daeron shrugs, leading him to Aegon and Helaena to sit down.
He finds an empty seat next to him, thinking Daeron is the one who’d sit beside him, but when he sees it’s you who reaches for the chair, his heart leaps to his throat before he composes himself quickly, pulling it out like the prince he is.
You give a smile that is worth countless gold dragons, and for the second time today, he questions if the sapphire is a magical eye, because the world turns a bit brighter and less dull when he looks at you. He sits next to you, his eyebrows twisting into a deep frown when he sees Lucerys at the other side of the table engaged in a deep conversation with Rhaena, playing the role of the happy family quite well.
Everyone stands up when the guards bring in the King, everyone except for Helaena but neither she nor Aemond pays any attention to others. One is busy playing with her hairpin, and he is busy admiring your ethereal face as you kiss the king, your uncle’s cheek, thanking him for having you and your grandparents in his home after so many years. As soon as Viserys sits behind the table, you take your place next to him again, giving him a small smile before you turn your head to listen to what his father has to say.
He knows what his father is about to say; first, he thanks them all for coming, paying special attention to his grandsons and Rhaenyra while he lies over and over again about how much he loves them all, how they should never let the House of the Dragon fall into ruins, oblivious to the fact that not Rhaenyra nor Alicent were the ones who broke the family into different agendas, but it was him who started the flame.
Tonight, Aemond doesn’t look at his sister to attend to her. His eye is solely on you, taking in the shape of your lashes kissing your cheekbones, carving the silhouette of your nose and lips in his memories. He looks at the way your lips curve into a grin, cheeks forming into the most beautiful shape he has ever witnessed.
You turn your head a little to glance at him, catching him red-handed while he tries to play it cool, but he finds that he is not powerful enough to look away from your blown-out pupils and the orange hue that’s cast on your irises softly.
He breaks the eye contact, a scowl forming on his face as he reaches for his goblet of wine, nearly throwing the goblet across the table when he hears Lucerys laughing at the two of you.
You beat him to it before he could open his mouth, “Is there something funny, Prince Lucerys?” your voice is so soft and slow, almost humiliatingly sweet, and funnily, it terrifies Luke.
Aemond smirks as he watches his nephew stuttering over his words while everyone around the table sits in uncomfortable silence, waiting for the young prince to say something, anything.
“I was surprised by how fast Uncle Aemond took a liking to you, given his looks and all,” he explains, sarcasm dripping like honey from each of his words.
Fucking bastard, Aemond thinks to himself as an ugly sneer sits on his face. As much as he wants to leap toward him and cut off his tongue, he can’t — not when you put your hand on his over the hilt of his dagger.
Your skin is so smooth atop his calloused one. The way your fingers wrap around his wrist sets his body on fire, burning the skin in a way unknown to any man, but this is no ordinary burn; there’s no trace of fire, no long-forgotten ashes of his bones are visible, instead his fingers twitch for more, begging for more skin to skin contact, but he pulls his hand away from you without looking away from Luke’s blushing face.
“Your words are mean for no reason, Lucerys, given how it’s been your doing that has caused Aemond his scar,” you say, “I find him quite handsome actually. He was my beloved friend when we were younger. There are, of course, many feelings between us. Nothing has happened out of the blue for you to mock him for.”
“I-I apologize, good sister, I wasn’t…”
“It is not me who you should apologize to, it’s Aemond. I have taken no offense on my behalf but I do believe you owe him an apology.” You explain, sipping from your glass slowly while keeping your eyes on Lucerys.
No one, not even the King has the strength to intrude into the situation, maybe in doubt of saying something to hurt you, or perhaps you’re just speaking the truth, and for once, everyone fears your gentle mannerisms.
“I apologize, uncle,”
Aemond’s stare is blank as he looks at Luke who’s chewing the inside of his cheek in embarrassment. He nods, not bothering to reply to him; he will never forgive nor forget what he has done to him, crushing his hopes and ruining his worth for a lifetime.
“Let us put our differences aside, and become a family again,” the king says, coughing before he reaches to drink from his cup.
The dinner goes smoothly from there and to Aemond’s surprise, he engages in more conversations with you. He does not talk too much, he’d rather listen to your giggles and stories rather than talk about his boring and miserable life.
His eye always lingers on you for far longer than it should, not in an inappropriate way, but more in a sense of intrigue and curiosity, trying to understand you from his perspective. He simply can’t though; you are worlds apart. He is a cold-hearted, broken, and worthless man when it comes to your bright and beautiful personality. Even if he gets to know you again after so many years, he would never think himself worthy enough to be in your presence.
“Aemond…?” you call his name oh so sweetly, making him feel as if he is on top of Vhagar, flying atop the city while the wind blows in his hair; it makes him feel alive.
“Yes, My Lady?”
“Are you alright? You look quite flushed,” You smile sweetly, reaching to put the back of your hand on his cheek, flustering him even more than he already is.
“Yes, yes, I might have had too much wine,” he doesn’t know who he is trying to convince; you or him? By the sound of it, it’s him who needs to be convinced that it’s the wine in his blood and not the same unknown feeling he gets when you look at him. No, it is definitely the wine. It has to be.
“Oh, well then, I wish to spend more time with you if you are not against it,”
“Why would I be?” he asks almost too quickly, making you chuckle at his… enthusiasm. If he can even call it that.
“Then I’d be overjoyed if we could rebound what we had as children.”
•••••••••••
After the dinner, something between you and Aemond shifted; he spent more time outside his room, he was calmer and less serious, and the pain in his skull was almost gone. You joined him in the library a few times in the next few days, meeting each other at your door to attend the meals side by side, and almost everyone could feel how he was changing the longer he had you close, almost turning into the little boy he once was.
Both of you forget your last interactions as an act of mercy for the other.
With your insistence, he agreed to miss the tourney being held for Jace’s nameday to sneak out of the castle and take you to the beach. He did not need much convincing, but when you gave him those doe eyes with a little pout on your lips, he felt weaker than he ever did and gave in immediately.
Aemond helps you down the rocks near the shoreline with your small hands in his, taking cautious steps down to not trip over and hurt yourself. He keeps his eye on your feet instead of his, worrying more about you than himself even though he is stepping down with his good eye on you, not looking where he is going.
That seems to be a bad decision, because the next second, not only does his foot miss a small rock, but yours slips on one too, tumbling into his arms as the two of you fall on the soft sand, Aemond’s arms wrapping tightly around your back to keep you steady.
He looks at you, panting as his eye widens at the closeness; your faces are inches away from each other, and he can feel your soft rushed exhales on his lips. You look like a goddess atop him, the sun illuminating your silver hair, reminding him of the last sennight when you arrived and your hair made your face shine even brighter.
He has never seen such a beauty before, sure he has seen the ladies of the court, but your Valyrian beauty combined with sunlight and the blue hue of the sky has him mesmerized, not realizing how his hands are gripping your waist while he stares at you.
You giggle at first, then break into a fit of laughter while you lean more into him, dropping your forehead on his shoulder as you laugh wholeheartedly.
He chuckles lowly at first, then matches your laughter and throws his head back, holding you on him by one arm while the other comes to run over his face.
“I have never heard you laugh so freely before,” you say after you have calmed down, putting your palms on either side of his face while you hover over him.
“I don’t remember having a reason to do so,” he replies, smiling up at you.
“I’m glad that I’m able to bring joy to your life, you deserve it.” leaning down, you press a gentle kiss on his cheek before standing up, smoothing down your skirt.
He is at loss of words, speechless to his core. He deserves it, he thinks, do you truly think a monster like him deserves any chance of happiness? How are you not disgusted by him, his scar, his sour and mean tongue? How can you ever leave a butterfly kiss on someone as unworthy as him?
He looks at you from where he is staying lying on the sand, watching as you extend your hand to him, rocking on your heels in anticipation so you can go and wander on the beach and reunite with the sea.
He grabs your hand, standing up on his feet as well. There is sand in both of your clothes, but you have just begun your venture and won’t stop until you are satisfied.
You don’t let go of his hand when you start jogging, pulling him with you as you giggle in delight. And he observes you as he always does; wind in your hair, waves crashing against the shore while your laughter fills the air around him. He doesn’t realize his smile has widened and he is following you just as excited, letting the sand and the sea separate you from the outer world.
“You promised you would make a sandcastle for me!” you say, pulling him behind you to the spot where you would sneak away as children, sitting down to get to work.
“I did not,” he replies, unbuttoning his tunic so he can stay under the sun without being bothered by the heat.
“Fine, you did not. But you ruined the one we built together at Driftmark so you owe me one!”
He chuckles at you, his dimples on display as he shakes his head, “Alright, I will make one for you.”
It took you a good few hours to finish the sandcastle; it could have finished much sooner if you hadn’t thrown wet sand at him, cleaning your dirty hands with his white cotton undershirt just to annoy him — and it worked. In a second, he was chasing you around the beach with hands full of wet sand curved into balls, throwing them at you.
And here you are now, fingers laced together, shoes in one hand as you both walk on the shoreline, letting the waves cool your feet. You point at the sunset, leaning on his side when you come to a stop to watch the sky change color as the sun goes down.
Aemond on the other hand, looks at your calm face that is glowing under the pink and orange sunlight. How did he get so lucky to be blessed by such a beauty to lay his eye upon? Maybe he truly deserves this unknown feeling that spreads through him like fire and makes his fingers tingle and his heart beat in happiness. Maybe he deserves to be loved by you and love you unconditionally in return.
You turn around, dropping your shoes before you reach up to cup his cheeks. He closes his eye and basks in the attention you give him; so unique and pure. He drops his boots as well, arms circling your waist to pull you closer.
Aemond doesn’t dare to open his eye, fearing that he might ruin this perfect moment as you trace the lines of his lips, his cheekbones, and his jaw. You are so gentle with him, something he is not quite used to. It has always been him, alone in a cold room, but now and here with you, he feels as if he can breathe again, and forget every pain he has endured to reach this moment of his life.
“Open your eye, My Prince,” you whisper before you peck the corner of his lips, pulling him in so you can rest your forehead on his.
He obligates, sighing shakily when he finds you already looking at him. Your gaze is so genuine that somehow scares him, a rush of destructive thoughts comes into his head, but you seem to notice it from how his hands shake on your waist.
“Don’t think about anything, just… just focus on me.”
He does as you say, his brain shutting those annoying voices at the back of his head down as soon as your nose brushes against his, your soft lips brushing over his so endearingly. He is hesitant at first but when you peck him again, he moves forward as well, meeting you halfway until his lips are locked with yours.
You taste as sweet as the strawberry cakes you had this morning, if not sweeter. The way your lips move together makes his head hazy. You are kissing his breath away, leaving him begging for more. His chest moves up and down quickly when you break the kiss, and you caress his thin swollen lips, bruised by your kisses and lack of air, while he admires you from head to toe.
The sun has set, but the glimmer of love has risen inside of Aemond’s broken heart.
•••••••••••
A kiss here and there, more sneaking around the castle and to the beach until the main event for Jace’s birthday arrives. He is in his mother’s solar, listening to her talk about how lovely you are and how much of a wonderful couple you would make with him if only you weren’t Daemon’s daughter.
“Mother—”
“You should dance with her tonight, my darling!” Alicent says, running her hands over his arms when he stands up and approaches her, “I have heard Daemon has plans of betrothing her. Obviously, he has yet to find someone suitable, but he is thinking about it.”
Aemond’s heart drops when Alicent says your father is looking for a suiter, fortunately, Alicent sees his surprise, shock, and fear. She reaches to cup his cheek, forcing him to maintain eye contact while she talks, “Don’t let her go if you truly wish to have her. I know that she would stand strong against her father and Rhaenyra, but she would need your support and love as well to feel brave enough to turn down a good match.”
“They would make her happier than I can ever do, Mother,” he replies, his voice breaking slightly. Losing you terrifies him, and he is aware that his mother can read him like an open book, shushing him while he inhales sharply.
“I have never seen her happier than I have with you, and I have never seen you this happy and lively, darling. Be selfish for once, choose your happiness this time.”
“How can I choose my happiness over her life?!” he asks harshly, frowning at his mother.
A knock interrupts Alicent before she can respond, and the guards open the door for you to step inside the queen’s room.
“Oh, I apologize, it was not my intention to interrupt you.”
Aemond seems to be struck by your beauty; your body is wrapped in a teal-colored gown with a low neckline that leaves your shoulders and collarbones on display. Your silver hair is braided with some parts of it pinned up, some strands framing your bare neck.
“You look so beautiful, my darling,” Alicent says, nudging Aemond a bit forward when she sees how he is looking at you.
“Thank you, my queen. You look very beautiful as well,” you look away from the queen, smiling when he approaches you slowly, “you said you were going to wear something close to this color and I decided it would look quite good to match. How do I look?”
“Enchanting,” he breathes out, reaching to hold your hand, pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “You look breathtaking, My Lady.”
“So do you, My Prince.”
“Shall we then?” he offers you his arm and you accept without hesitation, looking back to see if the queen will come with you and she assures you she will come with the King.
“You said you were going to retrieve me from my chambers for the party,” you say, leaning your head on his shoulder as the two of you walk toward the great hall.
“I am deeply sorry. Mother wanted to have a word with me,” he explains, dropping a quick kiss on the crown of your head.
“Is everything alright, Aemond?” you ask him, and he chuckles at how adorably your brows twist into a frown in worry.
“Yes, darling, she merely wished to remind me to make sure you have a great time tonight. You are our special guest.”
“Does that mean you will dance with me?” you ask, holding his hands in yours before you reach the hall.
“We shall see,” he brings your hands to his lips again, leading you toward the hall, bowing and nodding at the ladies and lords who take it upon themselves to greet you.
You come to a stop in front of the table, Rhaena coming to hug you and twirl you around, gasping at the sight of your beautiful gown, gasping even louder when she sees how your dress matches Aemond’s tunic.
A ghost of a smile finds its way on Aemond’s face as he watches you get flustered at your sister’s attention to details, but soon, his eye hardens when he finds his uncle glaring at the two of you. Tonight will change the course of so many lives.
He watches you laugh with your sisters, pointing at the empty chair next to you so he would sit close by all night. With one last glare at his uncle, he walks to his seat and pours wine into his cup, blushing a bit when he hears you laughing again. You are not even laughing at something he has said and he is the one who gets flushed.
He is knee-deep inside these new feelings but he welcomes the challenge with open arms. Or at least he tries to do so without Daemon being an obstacle to his plans.
He looks at you when Rhanea and Helaena pull you to the dancefloor for the new song, pairing up with different lords to dance with, but what catches his eye, isn’t who you are dancing with, but more than who Daemon is talking to. He recognizes the lord to be from the south, probably a Tyrell, and when his uncle and the lord look in your direction, he knows something is not right, an uneasy feeling settling deep in his stomach.
He watches the lord closely as he makes his way through the crowd to get to you, bowing and introducing himself before taking your hand to dance with you. He can see how uncomfortable he is making you, probably discussing his sick desire to have a wife and kids while he dances with a Targaryen-Valeryon goddess.
“Stop glaring and do something!” Baela slides into the seat next to him, hissing the words at him while she keeps her eyes fixed on you as well, “I don’t like you, I will never like you, but you make her happy. Do something before our father ruins her life because of Rhaenyra.”
“I thought you liked your stepmother,” Aemond chooses to ignore most of the things she said.
“It’s Rhaenyra’s schemes, please, Aemond, my sister deserves to feel appreciated. I have never seen any lord take an interest in her the way you have. You are the only thing she could talk about in the last few days. I will beg you if I have to.”
Aemond turns his head toward Baela, letting her words calm down the hesitancy he has toward courting you. There are far more handsome men than him in the court, yet, he is the one who is blessed to hold you and kiss you, to gaze into your eyes and see forever in them.
He hisses when he feels a sting in his skull, not now, no. The pain can’t start now. He gulps his wine before he nods at Bela and stands up to walk to the crowd in the middle of the hall, catching your eyes for a second before he has to bow and start the dance with a lady he does not care to engage in a conversation with.
He thinks about how much he has changed in a few days; there will always be a part of him who thinks he’s not worthy of your affection, that you can do better than him, but also the thought of you in another man’s arms sets his skin ablaze. He is torn between keeping you all to himself or letting you have a wonderful future with another guy who can stand by your side and make you proud, who is not maimed and scarred like him.
Luckily, everyone needs to change their partner and he reaches with his hand to grab yours and pull you to his side, grinning when he hears your delighted shriek.
“My Prince Aemond,” you say, squeezing his hand while the two of you twirl around the room.
He doesn’t wish to say, but the tempo is too high for me, and it worries him that somehow he might make a fool of himself or you if he trips over someone’s shoe on his blindside.
“Lady Targaryen, you look like a Valyrian Goddess, my beloved.”
“Why thank you, my good prince. I have to say that this color truly brings out your beautiful eye,” you reply coyly, tipping your chin up while you bite your lip.
“You are playing with fire, darling.” he leans down to whisper in your ear, pressing a feather-like kiss on your earlobe without anyone noticing.
“I’m a Targaryen, Prince Aemond, fire is in my blood,”
“Is that so? Well, I must say—”
He doesn’t know what happens, or how it happens, but in a second he can’t see you when he twirls you around him, and suddenly, the weight of your waist isn’t in his hand anymore.
“Aemond!” you fall down by his feet, and he sees that his boots have caught the edge of your heels, making you twist your ankle in the wrong way and causing your fall.
What have I done?
What have I done?
I dropped her.
I did this.
What happened?
His eye has widened in fear, and he is frozen in place, hands shaking slightly as he feels the crowd around you look in your direction, staring and gaping at him before the hushed whispers start to fill the room.
“Aemond, look—”
He can’t look at you. He will never be able to live with himself for humiliating you in the way he did tonight.
Stupid, weak, useless good for nothing, Aemond. If another lord was dancing with her, he wouldn’t have dropped her. A prince but less worthy than a common whore.
With trembling lips, and a pain blooming in his eyesocket, he dashes out of the room, leaving you on the floor.
His vision is blurry, the pain is getting worse and the air is stuck in his lungs. He can’t breathe, no, he doesn’t deserve to breathe. How can he when all he wanted to do was to dance with you but ended up hurting you? How could he hurt you like this?
He skips the steps, running to his room while he groans in pain, the stinging is getting stronger, the agony in his nerves is spreading through his skull and it only gets worse when he opens the door to his chambers to find not only scented candles but the windows and the balcony door is open as well.
“You are dismissed!” he shouts at the guard before he slams the door shut, “Ah!” He tumbles down, gripping the nearest chair to keep himself on his feet at least before he falls on his knees, clawing at the eyepatch to pull it off as if it’s burning his skin.
The pain is like a dagger, stabbing him over and over again until even his knees don’t have the strength to keep him up. He falls on the floor, curling into a ball while the pain spreads through his face, and he finally breaks down, bursting into tears from agony and humiliation. If only he wasn’t in pain… if only his eye wasn’t cut out…
Aemond doesn’t hear when the door opens, nor he can see who the person is. Tears have flooded his vision, but as soon as he feels your soft hand on his arms, trying to help him sit up, he flinches, backing away from you while he gasps for air, feeling his tunic clinging to his sweaty body.
“Aemond, please let me—”
“No, no, no, no…” he stands up hurriedly, walking to the balcony on unsteady legs to get some air in his lungs, only to be met by a freezing wind that makes the chronic pain in his eye even worse. He drops to his knees again, this time the sounds of his gasps and painful yelps are louder than before.
You rush to his side, kneeling in front of him to cup his cheeks, kissing his clammy forehead before you wipe his tears away gently. He lets you touch him this time, too exhausted to utter a word, to push you away even if he has to.
“It’s going to be okay, Aemond, let me help you,” You help him on his feet, making sure to have your arms wrapped tightly around him while he leans his weight on you, trusting you to take care of him, even though the voice in the back of his head is telling him to push you out of his room.
“Gently, my love, gently,” you help him lay down on the bed, pecking his cheek again, rising to get the smoke out of the room but his hands shot up and grabs your forearm tightly.
“Stay, please,” he whimpers, his beautiful eye tearing in pain.
“I will, my dearest, I just need to blow out the candles and close the windows, and I’ll be back in bed with you.” You reach and bring his hand to your lips, pressing a gentle kiss upon his knuckles before he lets you go.
He can’t see you clearly, but your shadow moves from side to side frantically, blowing the candles on the balcony so the smoke won’t get inside again, shutting the windows quickly so the cold wind doesn’t bother him anymore before you come to bed again.
You unlace your gown, taking it off so you can tend to him more easily, pulling at the few pins inside your head to let the strands fall freely around your shoulders. You climb onto the bed, a jar of his salve and ointment in hand with clean rags in your other as you sit comfortably next to him, helping him take off his tunic and pants.
Aemond lies on the pillow on your lap, sniffing as you look at his face; bare and raw of emotions with his sapphire glinting in the low lights of the room.
“My love, you need to help me pull the gem out,” you whisper, almost sound scared of him, or scared of what you might see.
“No, it is an unbecoming sight—”
“Nothing about you is unbecoming. You are the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on, and for you and your suffering, I begged my grandma to allow me to study about your condition with the Maesters,” you lean to kiss the bridge of his nose, “the skin around your eyesocket is swollen, if we do not pull it out now, it shall make it more unbearable for you.”
He hesitates for a moment. While he would love to ask you about why you studied something so gruesome because of him, he can’t help but feel so wanted. The pain is getting worse, sure, he has to pull the gem out anyway but to hear you say how you have begged Rhaenys to let you partake in those classes, to maybe someday help him with his pain… that truly makes him feel fuzzy all over.
“Alright…” he whispers, gritting his teeth in pain as he reaches out with his fingers to grab the side of the gem, pulling it out slowly while he groans and the pain nearly knocks him out.
“Shouldn’t we use something more—”
“Take it out, take it out—I don’t care how!”
You nod, tears falling from your eyes as you watch him writhe in pain more as the two of you pull his sapphire out, leaving a heavily swollen and empty eyesocket on display. His hand falls limp on the bed while you drop the gem into a clean bowl before pouring some of the ointment on a rag, gently holding his face in one hand while the other daps slowly over the scar and his ripped eyelids, pressing a few kisses here and there to soothe his whimpering.
He clings to your arms and waist tightly, letting his tears fall freely while you soothe his pain away, falling into slumber easily beneath your gentle touch.
•••••••••••
He is running.
Where is he? Why is he running?
He looks around him, finding himself in the labyrinth he always sees in his dreams.
The hedges are covered in ivy, the walls have gotten taller and the paths are thinner.
What’s this smell?
He steps closer to the source of it, taking different routes until the smell gets worse and stronger. He knows where the center of the maze is, he has been here countless times.
He turns around, finding the space of the labyrinth of his dream, but he doesn’t expect to see you there, not while standing with your nightshift covered in maroon, hands dripping with thick droplets of blood as you look at him horrifyingly.
“Darling, are you alright?”
“Don’t- don’t come closer,” you say, taking a step away from him.
“I don’t understand, why—”
“You did this to me!” screaming at him, your hands cover your heart, and he finally sees how your chest has been ripped open and blood gushes out of the wound.
“I was not here—”
“You did this to me! You hurt me, Aemond!”
“Aemond!”
“Aemond!”...
He jolts up, gasping for air, hands clutching the bedsheets as he experiences another nightmare. He looks at you, finding you awake and alarmed while you rub his back, eyes filled with worry and pain for him.
“You should leave,” his voice is barely above whispering, his nails digging into the palms of his hand while he blinks his tears away.
“Aemond—”
“I will only hurt you, why don’t you understand?!” he asks, raising his voice a little.
He is torn between needing you to wishing you were gone; he can’t cope if he ever hurts you again.
“You have not hurt me, you won’t hurt me.”
“I killed you in my dream! You fell in front of everyone and twisted your ankle because of me, I humiliated you! How can you say I won’t fucking hurt you? I have already done it.” He explains, but instead of pushing you away, he welcomes you when you pull him down into your embrace, holding his head tightly in your neck as he sobs uncontrollably.
“It’s not your fault, I should have been more careful. I won’t let you ruin yourself for something that was a mistake on my behalf.” you kiss the side of his face, rocking him from side to side while he calms down eventually.
“Don’t push me away, I love you, Aemond. Let me be here and help you carry this heavy pain with you.”
He doesn’t reply, but his arms tighten around you.
He looks at how you lay back on the pillows, gently pulling him in your arms until he is lying in your chest while you play with his hair.
“Sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
•••••••••••
He opens his eye slowly when he feels someone caressing his hair, pressing butterfly kisses all over his face. Smiling a little, he finds you admiring him in his sleep, taking notes of every line and deep of his skin.
“It’s very rude to stare,” he says, his voice thick and raspy from all the crying he did last night.
“Not when he is my lover,” you whisper back, nuzzling your nose against his, “you look like a fairy when you sleep.”
“No one has ever told me that. How do you come up with such unique ways to describe me?” He leans over, pressing a kiss on your shoulder while he waits for you to answer.
“You are a wonderful muse for poetry, I shall start writing about your hair and eye!”
He keeps his lips sealed to your skin, sucking and nibbling until he is satisfied with the marks he has left. His pupil is blown out with a newfound lust; how can he not desire you when you are lying in his arms with your wild white hair plastered over his pillows?
“You are staring,” he chuckles at how breathless you sound. He hasn’t even begun to do anything and he already has you melting under his touch.
“Can you blame me? I have the most exquisite lady of the realm in my bed.”
“What happened to the insecure boy I held last night?” You ask while leaning up towards him, pushing him down on his back so you can straddle his narrow hips.
“It’s still here with us in this room, but he has begun to heal. You have helped him when he had no one,” his palms rest on your thighs.
“I need you,” it comes more as a plea, but Aemond obliges and flips the two of you over, hiding his face in your neck to prep it with kisses while he whispers that he needs you too.
“I love you, darling,” he whispers, craning his neck to catch your lips in a kiss, moving them together with a rhythm that encourages him to take the next step.
His hand inches downward, pushing past the fabric of your underwear to find you already wet for him.
“I-I have already lost my maidenhand…”
“I don’t care, I have you now,”
He silences your whine with another deep kiss, his fingers circling your clit until you are squirming and bucking your hips into his palm, your arms pulling him in by the shoulders.
He breaks the kiss, watching you take a deep breath when he pushes one digit inside while he tugs at the front of your shift, pulling it down until your tits are on display. He covers your chest with marks and bruises the same time another finger enters you, making you gasp loudly in pleasure.
He stretches you on his fingers, thrusting them in and out slowly at first, but soon he is speeding up, his patience running thin as he scissors you open not roughly to make it hurt, but to make sure you are ready to take him.
“A-Aemond, please, need you closer,”
He nods because he too can feel the need to become one with you, to take you as his, or more so you take him as yours.
His breeches are thrown on the floor, followed by his undershirt immediately as he takes home between your spread legs, one hand holding him up while the other guides his throbbing cock to your entrance. You both gasp in union when his tip nudges past your muscles, pushing in slowly and gently until he is sheathed inside you completely.
You throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist while your nails dig into his naked chest as he lets you get adjusted to his size.
“Can I move?” He asks, leaning down over you as he cages you beneath him, both of his forearms holding himself up against the pillow under your head.
You nod, looking at him with pleading eyes, and he finally caves in and moves slowly; pulling his hips back a little before driving in.
The next minutes pass by him gently making love to you, circling his hips and kissing you, bringing you closer and closer to your highest point. You know you both are close when his groans and moans grow louder, and your voice matches his tone as he quickenes his pace, the loud sounds of skin slapping against each other echoing in the chambers of the prince.
You both finish together; you with a gasp of his name, and him with a loud groan of yours as he fills you and you gush around him. He trembles above you, whether it is for the climax he experiences or the overwhelming love he holds for you.
He watches your face twist in pleasure — the pleasure he is giving you — and he memorizes every sound, counting each lash that he can while he himself rides his high with you.
He drops face down on the bed next to you, both of you trying to catch your breath as you look at each other with a satisfied expression on your faces.
“They would ask about our whereabouts if we are late for breakfast.” You say, giggling when he groans in absolute disgust — he is not ready to leave this room and face the world again when he knows he can stay and take you again, thrive in your attention and love for all day.
“Must you ruin this moment for us? Now I can only think about how to face your father after what we did.”
“You should look him in the eye and ask for my hand,” you sit up, throwing the cover off of you before getting off the bed “and you shall do it with the braids I do for you,”
“You are impossible,” he says, but he knows that behind his words, there is no hidden intent, nothing but adoration and playfulness.
“Come, sit!” You pull him off the bed as well, leading him to his vanity before pushing him down on the chair, both of you stark naked as you brush his hair slowly.
He looks at himself in the mirror, and for the first time in years, his reflection doesn’t disgust him, it doesn’t scare him or make him self-conscious. He feels… beautiful, he feels worthy again of having this life, having you as his.
“Do you wish to know what I see when I look at you?” You ask him, letting his soft hair fall around his shoulders before you lean down, wrapping your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.
He nods, hands coming to cover yours where they caress the skin above his heart.
“I see a broken man who needed to be saved. I see a boy, fierce and strong as he claims the largest dragon alive. I see my friend who danced with me in different gatherings, my beloved friend who built sandcastles with me and helped me with my Valyrian studies. I see my Aemond, finally freed from the labyrinth of his mind.”
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen fluff#prince aemond#aemond x reader#rue:smut#rue:angst#rue:fluff
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Would it be ethical to use the InstaJock app on some fellow nerds who are being assholes to everyone in our college major? I doubt anyone would miss the old them~
I can’t really speak for the ethics of using a mysterious app to turn asshole nerds into manly jocks, but I do have to warn you of a couple… logistic issues. See, you’re asking if you should give this guy the app. But what you should be asking is if you even can. See, the only people who can invite people to use the app are… well, people who’ve already used the app. The people who’ve already been turned into jocks. There are some ways to get the app on a phone without getting jockified, but trust me when I tell you they’re very difficult, and you basically can’t ever use the phone again without risking being turned into a jock yourself. So if you, a geek, are going to turn these jerks without being transformed yourself, you’re going to need some help. Specifically you’re going to need someone who has already been jocked.
The first thing you have to do is find someone who has the app. That part is fairly simple. Look for anyone who suddenly had a massive growth spurt and change in personality. You can’t always tell if someone is on InstaJock, since with the ‘rewrite history’ setting on you’ll think they’ve always been a jock, but since most people don’t use that feature it should be fairly obvious. If you wanna be extra sure look for a jock with glasses. I’ve mentioned before that InstaJock isn’t able to remove glasses, so if a jock with perfect vision is wearing glasses for no reason you can be sure he’s a recent convert.
The next part, getting them to help you, is much harder. It’s not that they wouldn’t be happy to turn a geek into one of them. The first thing most InstaJock users do after they make their first post is send out a few invites. The problem is they’d be all too happy to transform you too. Don’t misunderstand, they don’t transform every geek they know into jocks. That’s way too smart of an idea for a jock to have. But if you, a geek, bring up the app and suggest using it… well even a jock can put the dots together. Both you and your target would end up jock bros. On the upside you’d probably get along a lot better. On the downside you’d be an entirely different person with a lot less brains.
The only way to do this without ending up a total jock bro is to get the jocks to notice your targets without noticing you. This could be done in a number of ways. You could trick the geeks into acting even more obnoxious so that they naturally draw more attention. You could whisper in the right ears, spread rumors that you know will make their way to the jocks. Or… you could just take a more direct route. Most jocks wouldn’t question an anonymous note. They’d probably get stuck on the spelling of the word anonymous.
That’s all there is really. Find a jock with the app, point him in the right direction, and wait. It shouldn’t be long until the asshole and all his friends are instantly turned into muscular bros. Jocks being jocks, they might still bully nerds at times, but they’ll most likely be so obsessed with their new bodies and bro lifestyle that they won’t have time for it anymore.
There is still some risk though. Once your targets are changed, they’ll have the app too. And if they ever find out you’re the one who got them jockified, or if you do anything that grabs their attention…
While I hope you appreciate the karma for as long as you can.
#muscle growth tf#jock tf#jock transformation#jockification#muscle tf#nerd to jock#reality change#instajock tf
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Saw your requests were open so thought i'd give it a shot for the Obey Me crew.
Depsite the game, imagine an MC that will avoid conflict, either by appeasing or avoiding, just any way to not argue or fight with anyone. What would that look like?
Thanks for the request!!! I tried my best to do your request justice, but I didn’t really know how you wanted me to write it. (ಥ _ ಥ) So, if you do ask for anymore requests, please tell me the format {I think that’s what it’s called at least.} you’d like, THANK YOU!!! {Oh! And spoilers for Obey Me.}
If MC was like this and was actually successful, it would definitely change the whole story. Like in lesson 4 when MC was trying to find a way into the attic by taking Levi’s TSL soundtrack and giving it to Lucifer to distract him. I feel like this MC could maybe find some way to get the soundtrack without setting Levi’s demon form off and without injuring their wrist. (But at the same time that needs to happen so Levi makes a pact with MC, right?) Although that's only if MC is actually good at avoiding conflict which I doubt considering the story. Poor MC. I also don't think MC would be able to avoid DEATH in lesson 16 since like how are you supposed to avoid that. So, in summary, MC would probably be able to get past some stuff but most things I don’t think are really avoidable.
Lucifer would definitely like this MC at the start compared to our normal MC. I mean the whole reason Lucifer didn’t like MC at first was because they were too noisy and troublesome. He probably still wouldn't really like this MC, but he'd probably like them more than our usual MC, at least a little bit.
Mammon’s feelings wouldn't really change for this MC. In my professional opinion. He’s just a simp and if your name is MC you're a victim of his simping. Just like Lucifer and most of the other brothers, he would probably like this Mc a bit more at the very start before he catches feelings but he would also think this MC is a little bit of a wimp.
As I’ve said before, if this MC could avoid the whole lesson 4 situation, Levi and MC might have a better relationship at the start but at the same time I have no idea how MC would be able to make a pact with Levi without the whole incident. (I honestly don't have much to say about Levi or Satan since I don’t really focus on him a lot, sorry Levi fans.)
Satan would definitely get along with this MC. If MC avoids conflict, then there's less things to make Satan mad. Happy Satan = Happy times.
With Asmo I doubt anything would really change much. I mean, this is Asmo we're talking about. There hasn't been any moments where I feel like a MC like this would change much between them. (At Least from where I’m at in the game.) He would still love MC no matter what they’re like.
Once again with Beel I don’t think much would change….. Actually, scratch that. In lesson 4-5 MC probably would not eat Beel’s custard even under Mammon’s pressure so Beel wouldn't go demon mode on them. So, that would change the story a little bit.
Now Belphie is a special case. MC can’t avoid conflict if Belphie has any chance of getting out of the attic, so that's why I think MC would try to avoid conflict but wouldn't really be effective. And if Belphie’s is out of the attic that means MC dies, they can’t really do anything about that. So, I doubt anything would really change at all in their relationship whatsoever. MC still has to get traumatized for THE PLOT!
I kinda rushed this because I was like “OH NO!!! I still haven't done any of the requests yet! I need to finish at least one NOW!!!” So, apologies if there are spelling mistakes or it’s not the best, I tried. I also haven't really played Obey Me in a little while until recently, so I was having a hard time “capturing” the brothers' personalities...? But I hope it was at least kind of decent. And if anyone would like me to redo this with a different writing format or whatever, please tell me. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
#obey me#obey me shall we date#mc#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#and finally#obey me belphegor#uhhh what else?#headcanon#i think thats it#Well...Have a great day! ᓚᘏᗢ
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WIP Wednesday- Planymphia for MerMay
Enjoy some naive human Nymphia and mermaid Jane (who’s been a little suspicious about her personal life outside of her friends and her girlfriend)
“So I don’t want to sound like I’m accusing you of anything, but ever since we got together, you act a little…weird,” Nymphia sheepishly admitted.
“Weird how?” Jane asked back, looking unsure where this conversation was going.
“Well…” Nymphia trailed off, before listing what she and their friends found strange about Jane. “You never want to spend the night together, and I’ve never been to where you live.”
“I know, but I like my privacy. We talked about this before, Nymph.” Jane said.
Nymphia said the next thing on her mind. “You never go outside when it’s raining. You canceled our date last month when it was drizzling,”
“I just got my hair done the day before. I couldn’t get it wet or it’d be ruined.” Jane explained calmly.
“You yelled at Amanda for spilling her drink on you.” Nymphia pointed out. It didn’t have anything to do with Jane’s suspicious behavior, but it was the next thing she thought of.
Jane stayed quiet before mumbling “I still think she did it on purpose,” embarrassed at the memory. “What are you trying to get at here?” she asked seriously.
“Um…” Nymphia stumbled on her words. She had to get it out of her system, whether the rumor was true or not. “I was talking to Amanda and Dawn this morning, and they kinda think that you might be…” her voice trailed off again, trying to muster up enough courage.
“That I might be what?” Jane sounded impatient. “Just spit it out already.” Her voice made her sound aggressive, but her eyes had hints of hurt and fear. This made Nymphia feel more nervous.
“Thatyoumightbecheatingonme,”
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A full transcribe of JAVIER PEÑA'S dialogue/lines from the TV show NARCOS.
S3/E9 - TODOS LOS HOMBRES DEL PRESIDENTE
Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.
I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤
FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE
☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.
FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:
It’s a fucking leak. Someone in the Colombian government is telling them everything.
Yeah. I mean, it adds up. Our most important witness gets killed right before I get him to talk. Sir, Botero knew that Franklin Jurado was my only play.
That we had one.
Sir-
Sir, what if Botero is the leak? Then we’re handing it over to the guy who works for the cartel. Ambassador, our CI, he’s done everything we’ve asked him to do. He’s… He’s… He’s risked his life. He’s risked his family. We’d be hanging him out to dry.
No. We do that… Miguel disappears and then we’re done.
I thought you said I had until 5pm.
__________________
Crosby’s handing it over to the Colombians today, Any move we make, we risk the leak finding out.
What did Salcedo say about the new location?
So we don’t wait.
Crosby won’t go for it. I asked.
So it’s up to us to help them. We get Miguel, we get them out. Call Salcedo again. We take Miguel today.
__________________
(In Spanish) General, Miguel Rodríguez is on the 7th floor. His son, David, doubled security after the raid, and well, there’s no way to get inside that building, without attracting attention. We have to get Miguel to move.
(In Spanish) Exactly.
(In Spanish) Leave that to me. I’ll stay here in Bogotá. You coordinate the operation in Cali. But it has to be today. There’s no time.
(In Spanish) And it could all be taken away.
(In Spanish) General… You put him in jail and I’ll make sure he stays there.
__________________
(Narration) In law enforcement, your only real power comes from the strength of the system that you represent. You gotta believe it has your back. But sometimes… sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes it’s so compromised, so corrupt, that you can’t trust it. What do you do then, when it tries to play you? You look for a way to play it right back.
__________________
(In Spanish) Of course.
(In Spanish) Thank you. One more thing, Minister. It almost slipped my mind.
(In Spanish) I received some information regarding Miguel Rodríguez’s hideout. It seems he’s in a building in Cali. It’s called Hacienda Buenos Aires.
(In Spanish) No, that won’t be necessary. I’ve already got my men there preparing for the raid today.
Well, we can’t waste any time. You want to catch him, don’t you?
This is the best option. If we do get him, you get the credit. I promise. Thank you, sir.
__________________
Peña.
Good. Keep me posted on stage two.
(In Spanish) Good morning.
(In Spanish) Defense Minister Fernado Botero… is working with the Cali cartel.
(In Spanish) Played a little “telephone.” Something I said to him that only I know was prepared in Cali.
(In Spanish) Yes.
(In Spanish) And?
(In Spanish) Santiago Medina. Who’s he?
(In Spanish) Fernado Botero.
__________________
Where are we?
__________________
Are you sure?
Just wait, wait.
We stick to the plan. When Miguel moves, we get him.
Yeah, well, he might already be dead.
All right, go.
__________________
(In Spanish) General.
(In Spanish) And Salcedo?
__________________
(In Spanish) Wrong?
(In Spanish) So… he wasn’t laundering the money?
__________________
I need a word. Right away.
No, thank you. I’d rather stand.
We got Miguel Rodríguez.
He’s on a plane back to Bogotá right now. It’ll be all over the news in an hour.
Sir, there’s another piece of this that you need to know. These are bank accounts open in Curaçao by a guy named Medina.
Well, good, because he was working with Fernado Botero. They received over six million dollars from the Cali cartel, which went into the Samper presidential campaign.
I did some digging. Ambassador, I am certain that the Minister of Defense is corrupt and that it doesn’t stop there. You ask the President, he’s gonna say he didn’t have a fucking clue, but that money won him the election. Gilberto, Miguel, they walk right out of prison unless these fucking politicians are in there with them.
How long have you known?
You’re not going to do anything.
So that’s it. They brought… the president.
We never had a chance.
__________________
How long have you had them? The tapes Crosby played for me. Let me guess. It’s uh… it’s complicated.
__________________
FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE
#pedro pascal#javier peña#javier pena#pedro pascal characters#javier pena narcos#javier pena dialogue#pedro pascal character dialogue
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we as a society need to talk more about platonic love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
AND HOW WONDERFUL IT IS!!!!!!
#i don’t see enough appreciation of platonic love#and i hate the idea that its somehow secondary to romatic love#both are wonderful and both are important#and to some one might be more important than the other#but i don’t think we should’ve made it into a whole societal thing that romantic love is like the “ultimate ” type of love#because it truly isn’t#i love people platonically so much#like SO much#and sometimes i have a hard time imagining myself loving anyone romantically as much as i love my friends platonically#i know i’ve done it before and i might do it again#but i will ALWAYS treasure my friendships and see the platonic love i give and receive as incredibly important#because#it id very important to me#in conclusion: i love my friends#platonic love is neat#and we should celebrate it more than we do#platonic love#atlas the thinker#personal
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my mom found the thing that started the fight that got me kicked out. so i was right. in my fantasies this happens and it’s great in real life im gonna jump her
#personal#now i gotta call amazon like no sorry my mom looked again and found it#it’s happened to me i get it. you look everywhere and it’s just not there#but oh my god. i was like shit did i send it??? i only remember the other camera? i only remember that one in there#then it’s like well maybe i did take it on accident#and then i was like am i getting so high all the time again that i sent it too???? and don’t remember? that’s pathetic mm#so i called them and god hard to find their number but call and get a note put in the system like hey might have done an oppsie#and that took forever and i did it next day after the fight bc i did feel bad#which was at workkkk 😔#now i gotta call them back nutssssss#also getting my dads ashes separated for my siblings#which either need to do flex time to do that or take day off#which i’ve been doing a lot like hey im sick!#hey! my house got broken into!!#hi again!!! it happened again!!!!#luckily one was a mental health day so ur boys only called out twice yeahhhhhhh#but anyway honestly just happy i let them know the urn situation is 100% on you#said nicer#but i was like hey if u have one just send it to me or the cremation place has some just see if u like any#and i’ll see if it’s easier to pay online or give it to me and i pay them#but urns easily 100 bucks if not more. granted looked at metal before wood but still. ain’t noooooooooooooo way#if it was like. 20 bucks i could see myself being like okay ill fork it over and deliver the goods (dad)#and i’ll rant this everytime but especially when i asked about this when we were funeral planning and before i got them and got told to#basically shut up. no. that trip was super hard didn’t wanna have to do it a couple times#i remember i came home with dad sobbing he was buckled in and i got him out and was just holding him#and i let everyone know hey dads home he’s safe#and i’m distraught holding my dad but distraught and talking to him#and first thing my brother says is when can we get some of the ashes too?#no asking me hey. u alright? no im happy dads home safe nothing just. sooooo#oh i could have killed i could have KILLED.
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You know I thought I was strong enough to let the tieflings die, but I don’t think I am actually
time to reload a save that’s like 5 hours back
#baldurs gate 3 spoilers#it’s vague but I mine as well tag it- also I’ll be rambling in the tags so spoilers here for sure#I saved the ones in moonrise but I don’t think I’m okay about all of the others dying djdjdjdj#also I don’t know if the kids are okay??? like mol I know got grabbed and was taken to somewhere (which like. bad. she’s gonna take raphaels#fucking deal which is terrible because that’s my kid I’ve decided djdjjdjdjdjsjsjs I want the best for mol#but I don’t know if the other tiefling children are okay or not???????? and I’m not okay about them not being okay dndjdjdj#(also like the siblings need to be reunited and I need the bard lady to be okay#really I think I might just reload to save everyone properly this time dhdjdjdj)#which suuuuuuuuucks cause I’ve done a lot#like I freed the prisoners- I got to moonrise- did a bunch of looting/side questing#got through basically all of shar’s temple#killed the one demon guy for astarion (which like. that fight is rough djdjdjdj)#had myself a moon lantern- passed all of the checks at the bar with the one spooky bloated guy#where you need like a bajillion 20s in a row djsjsjdjdjd#(it’s not that bad but I did have to reload like#twice I think to get that right)#I already murdered Balthazar or whatever his name is- I just reloaded to before that cause I forgot to do other quests#hhhhhhhh it’s a lot of progress#but I keep thinking about it so I’m probably just going to grit my teeth and go back#if nothing else at least I’ll get to see that super super cute astarion romance scene again#which is like. my favorite thing in the world right now
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going from being ashton all week to being my legal name again is honestly one of the worst feelings in the world
#ashtonstfu#also i either have to quit my job and move to illinois with my parents in like less than four months or uh hope i can find a job that can#support me AND a place to live based off that salary before they move and honestly#i’d rather fucking die than have to move with my parents but i have zero job prospects so#idk i guess i’ll just hope i die in my fucking sleep#and like i can’t blame my parents like i know it’s a good paying job my dad has and like he likes the area but like#CAN YOU FUCKING GIVE ME TIME#i won’t even offically have my degree til like may even tho i’ll be done in march#i’ve applied to literal hundreds of jobs but since my skills aren’t the best cause i don’t have any real world experience no one wants to#even interview me or train me or ANYTHING and the only way to get better is my practicing but i need more structure or something and if#someone would just be willing to train me at a fucking job i could do it!! but no one wants to do that except fucking sales jobs and i cant#do that shit again it is soul crushing#anyways i’m gonna have a full on mental breakdown cause uh#i’m too fucking overwhelmed i don’t have anything and i can’t move with them it’ll be a nightmare#if they would just slow the fuck down i might have a chance but we have a fucking realator coming thursday and i have so much shit to clean#i don’t know what the fuck i’m supposed to do#even if by some miracle i get a job i have no credit and no money so fuck finding a place to live#it’s impossible#i’m gonna go throw up probably
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oh my god you gave permission to send vids and i lasted all of 30 minutes before needing to send something 😂
BUT!!!
iv crying 🥺🥺🥺 the love for iii these last few shows has melted my heart and clearly the bands too
https://x.com/vesseltoken/status/1734391886901616999?s=46
i cannot suffer alone with this one i’m so sorry
Well, as I watch this and suffer. here, sleep token official instagrams account second to last pic…. Our boy AdamRosssi knows what we want, haha.
🥺🥺🥺
Oh no……
#just. one photo of vessels hand close up hahahaha.#hihi!!!#friend Exie!!#(your new tag❤️)#welp. you’ve fucked me up good is what you’ve done here.#(also I do not care how many asks you send me in a day ok. I mean I do think there is a limit#so like. if you hit that that might be uhhh. something haha. gosh I’ve never hit post limit before?? wow)#(oh like. tumblr has a limit on how much you can post in a day and I think there’s a limit on asks too. if you didn’t know#idk how long you’ve been on tumblr now that I think about it… I’m assuming a while cause I figure you used to be a trc blog but I am unsure#hahaha. I have a feeling we where/are in different sides of the trc fandom tho🤣🤣. if you didn’t know I uhhh… used to write Ronan x Gansey#fics😅😂. I have some ideas for future ones too maybe but we’ll see.)#so you def know about post limit and I just… over explained.. but now I can’t delete the tags cause they lead up to trc talk#I’m so glad the guys know we care about them. idk I’m not very emotional#these tags.. dang. the adhd fingers strike again. *blows off my fingers like they are old timey smoking guns*
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Torn between throwing up the last of these draft fics (I still have 8… 3 ficlets: 5 fics; so I’d have to stick one up like every week) before the one year anniversary of the blog so I can start with new, fresh stuff again; or just condemning them to draft Hell where they may never get posted?
#saturnsays#Idk - I feel like switching it up when I hit a year?#And some of those fics are like 7/8 months old now - so it feels weird still having them?#Like I went through a really inspired stage (Who is she; I know) where I ended up with 20+ fics and I’m still trying to post them all…#And then everything ‘new’ I write ends up in this awkward queue.#Part of me just wants to write/post when I have stuff… Like I finish something - and can just post it.#Bc rn it feels like I’m on some kind of weird schedule (Which I am) and idk; there’s no point to it?#(Idk - It feels like I’m caught in this liminal space of not wanting to be annoying vs being stifled by those drafts…#And idk what to do).#Anyway… That was a rambling trip to no-where…#(I think the problem is it’s making me feel kind of like a content machine? I write for fun and I want to be excited about what I post again#y’know; instead of losing my connection w/a piece before it gets to live out it’s posted life bc it’s been done for so long -#and I’ve moved on from it?#Idk if this makes any sense what so ever; but yeah.#Might just box off these drafts - Get the rest of Play Away written/posted (So it’s boxed off) -#and finish off those few little things I have planned for Kaminari’s birthday -#and then just start fresh with those WIPs?#I think that’s probably what’s best - even if it does mean the blog being super busy for a hot second).#Also it might be cool to do something special for 1 year! I feel like that’d be a nice ‘turning point’ although I have no idea what to do!#Anyway; anyway… I really should sleep.
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Guilty Gear plans cancelled I’m going to watch Card Captor Sakura on my new TV after I do some workout since my silly ass took a decade to realize they’re the same characters as Tsubasa Chronicle and now I need to rewatch both as a grown man in my mid 20s to understand the plot properly.
#📞#I’ve got a routine written down I’m going to log what I do. TV might get something for background noise to distract me 👍#I know I can’t jump into extensive shit right away but my workout goal is doing at least 30 sit ups push ups etc daily#I’ve done it before I can do it again yay
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okay I got some thoughts just putting these here
#I am feeling. untethered.#it’s bc I didnt get out of bed until 2pm today and the sun is currently setting#I was awake from like 10-11 and the curtains were open I just didn’t get up :/#and I only really just had lunch and I wanted to go to the library to work on my essay but there’s not much point now#bc I’m on a pretty strict time limit today#I’m meeting friends at 9 and I gotta cook + eat + wash up which takes like. 2 hours minimum. + calling home#probably abt 3 of the 5 hours I have left and going to the library cuts out 40 minutes of just travelling time and probably more like 50-60#for getting ready to/actually leaving. + I’ll want some time at the end of the day before I leave to centre myself before I go out again#so I might as well stay in and work until I need to cook at like. 5? if I want to do everything in time?#which is fine but damn the 4pm sunsets get me.#anyway that’s fine I’ll feel better once I’ve done some work and cooked I think#lunch did not help. I know I’m probably lactose intolerant and yet I’ve started eating cheese again. I had a lot of cheese.#anyway it’s a little annoying bc yesterday was such a good day#I finally figured out my skates and I could SKATE again properly#and I’m not quite where I was in terms of control bc the new skates feel different but I could move without hurting#and that does make such a big difference. okay I was hurting a little but I’m closer than before and I think it’s abt breaking them in now#idk. The Wanting is shifting recently. both in the emotional and rational sides#I’m getting a much better idea of what I can actually do and feeling more okay within that#but the things I want are also shifting in response to that and some are pushing against it while others take a backseat#I think I just need time and to be in a less stressful + unstable position for a while but that. will only come with time#it’ll be better in may. that’s all I got rn and genuinely what I’m holding onto which is more than a little annoying but#I think I’m also feeling a little stupid bc of this New Guy I was talking to yesterday#I talked to him like two weeks ago and he was a little annoying but kinda endearing. soft eyes#and then again last night and we were just talking normally and he seemed kinda cool#but then I find his instagram this morning and it’s just. so many red flags. it’s all red flags. and I saw some of them the first time#there’s also. Big Luke™ bc we look the same but he’s like 6’?? maybe shorter? and I’m 5’6#and like we’re just white guys with long curlyish brown hair but#idk he’s almost definitely straight and it’s entirely wishful thinking but here we are. it’s absolutely nothing#I’m just trying to get to know the guy bc he might be taking over my role next year and he’s fun to talk to#luke.txt
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