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sansaorgana · 21 hours

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I had an idea earlier about buck x reader, where after buck and the other 2 escaped and left bucky behind in part 9, they stumble upon a house near the forest (after the german kid soliders attacked them).

The reader lives there and she basically helps them hiding for a bit and also returning to the english base. She is against the war (which is the reason she helps them) and maybe a little angst where buck needs to protect her at the base bc she is still a german citizen.

What do you think?

hi! thank you for your request! 💞 honestly, I think it's the first 100% angst piece I have written for Buck because even the ones with sad events that I have posted so far had happy endings... but not this one 😅 since I have already written a similar fic and didn't want to repeat the same ending... I couldn't think of anything else how they could have their happily ever after 😪 I hope you can forgive me 💔

I had to currently close the requests because I got so many so I'm working on them atm 🙏🏻

In the heart of the enemy’s territory, he felt like a chased wild animal. Even though he was still human enough not to pull a trigger at a brainwashed German kid, Buck Cleven felt like a prey with nothing but survival on his mind. The forest was dark, muddy and unfriendly. A never ending maze with predators hiding all around. A thought of his dead friend and a thought of Bucky left behind were what kept him sane. The sun was going down slowly and he had no idea where to go. His other friend, Bill, was right behind him.

“Buck,” he hissed and waved his hand to make them both freeze in place. “There’s a house,” he pointed at the dark and old building by the country road behind the trees. “We’re close to town.”

“The lights are off. Maybe it’s inhabited,” Buck pointed out. “If it’s the case, we can find some supplies there.”

“Shall I go and check?” Bill asked.

“No, I will go,” Buck nodded and clutched on the gun in his hand hidden under the coat.

He walked carefully and slowly, making sure not to make too much noise, with his back hunched and breath steady. His blue eyes scanned the garden behind the house. It had herbs growing there but it was messy and the windows were dirty. Everything looked as if it was abandoned.

Encouraged by the looks of it, Buck walked to the front of the house and tried to push the door open but they were locked. However, the door was wooden and old, all it took was another, stronger push to open them wide with a loud squeak that made him wince.

He waited for a while to make sure there were no footsteps approaching him but when he heard nothing but silence, he entered the house and walked around curiously as the last rays of the sun going down lit the walls and the pictures hung on them. There were mostly family portraits and religious images – everything cosy and very cottage-like. There was only one portrait of a young soldier in a Wehrmacht uniform but his face was so friendly and sad that Buck didn’t even feel any hatred looking at it.

Focused on the picture, he lost his focus for a while. And then he heard a small noise and turned around with widened eyes as he spotted a young, scared woman in the corner of the room. She had a gun, too. Her hands were shaking and her pupils were huge out of fear but she was pointing the gun at him. He didn’t know if he should raise his hands and give up or point the gun at her in return – it was very doubtful she would actually pull the trigger.

He trusted no one. When he took a small step ahead to test her, she startled but she didn’t unload the pistol. So he pointed his own weapon at her and in that moment she dropped her gun and lifted her hands up while sobbing.

“P-Please, no,” she pleaded in English. “Please, don’t kill me,” her whispers were broken and shaky and Buck felt bad for her. Did she live in that house?

“Do you live here alone?” He asked, trying not to sound too nice. She nodded. “How so?”

“I lived here with my brother and my papa,” she explained and pointed her finger at the portrait on the wall carefully. “They took my brother away. In the beginning of the war. He didn’t come back. My papa, he was old now. But they took him too a few weeks ago. Because they need more men,” she was looking for the right words with her limited vocabulary.

“How do you know English?” Buck raised an eyebrow at her.

“Papa taught us. He was a soldier in the last war. He met the English and the Americans. He was a captive,” she explained and sniffled her tears. “Please, don’t kill me,” she begged once more and Buck felt stupid for still pointing his gun at her. He lowered his hand and she sighed out of relief.

“Do you need help?” He asked. Something about her and the state of this house made him forget about his own tragic situation at the moment. She was a young woman left alone in the middle of nowhere in a country that was on the verge of losing the war. It was not safe for her and she looked weakened as if she had not had any proper meal in a long while.

“Do you?” She asked.

“Me and my friend… He’s inside the forest… We ran away from the camp, too. We are American pilots. We need to get to the American soldiers. Do you know where we can find them?” Buck asked.

“They are in town,” the girl nodded. “I can take you to them tomorrow,” she offered.

“Why not now?”

“Because it’s dark already. And you need rest,” she pointed out. Buck squinted his eyes at her. “I don’t have a phone here. And German police are not here anymore. You are safe,” she assured him. “Tell your friend to come here,” the girl crouched down and picked up her gun again. Buck clutched on his but she hid hers into the pocket of her patched dress. “It’s not loaded,” she revealed to him with a sad smile. “I lost all my bullets two weeks ago when a few strange men came here and I had to scare them off.”

Buck nodded and slowly walked out of the house. He still was not sure if she was trustworthy but he craved nothing but rest. He came back for Bill and told him about the situation they had found themselves in.

“I’m not sure, Buck,” he shook his head. “Listen, what if I go there and scare her, steal some food and we run to that town on our own?” He proposed.

Buck understood where his friend was coming from. And he did not judge him. However, he did not agree to his plan.

“No,” he only said. “It’s just a girl.”

“They’re all just girls and boys. Like the kids back there in the forest,” Bill reminded him.

“I know. But she’s not like them.”

“How do you know that?” Bill requested an explanation.

“I just know,” was all Buck could say as he nodded at his friend to follow him.

Reluctantly, Bill went to the house after Buck. The girl was sitting by the round kitchen table and lighting a few candles. She looked up, giving them a doe-eyed look.

“I don’t have electricity here anymore,” she confessed. “But the candles are fine,” she added. “Here, I collected some of my brother’s and papa’s clothes for you to change. When I take you to town tomorrow, I don’t want anyone to know who you are. In the forest… There are a lot of people you can’t trust,” she explained.

“And you?” Bill asked, still not convinced. “Why can we trust you?”

“You have to,” she looked at him and then she turned around to point at the kitchen cabinet. “I don’t have much food left. And the fridge doesn’t work without electricity. I have some cans and a few wild berries I picked in the forest. Some cheese they gave me in town out of mercy.”

“We don’t want to eat your food,” Buck assured her. “Only a little bit.”

“I’m hungry,” Bill added and Buck shot him an unpleasant glance.

“So is she. And the food is hers. She doesn’t have to help us, you know?”

Bill went silent and took a pile of clothes to the living room where he began to change. Buck was left alone with the girl in the kitchen. She was looking down nervously, focusing on his hands to avoid his eyes.

“And what is your name?” He asked her out of courtesy.

“It’s (Y/N),” she whispered. “And yours?”

“I’m Major Gale Cleven,” he reached his hand out and she hesitantly shook it. She also dared to look up and meet his gaze. Buck felt his heart skipping a beat at the sight of how sad and broken those young eyes were.

Back where he was from, young girls were not affected by the war like this. Sure, they were worried about their husbands, fathers and brothers. But they were still drinking coke, danced at the parties, whined at the shortage of nylon and drew the lines on their calves to imitate the tights. They were slowly getting used to wearing jeans as they overtook the factories, they were poster girls and had their hair done up in victory rolls. They were marking the letters with red and pink lipsticks and perfumes. And this young girl in front of him already had the eyes of a very old and wise woman. It shouldn’t be like this.

“Major Gale Cleven,” she repeated. “Sounds like from a movie.”

He was just Buck. Nothing special at all. He was not even from Hollywood or New York. But to her he was already unrealistic enough. She batted her eyelashes and looked away, shyly.

“Not really,” Buck tried to convince her and she gave him a sad smile.

Bill came back in new clothes. It was Buck’s turn now but he was afraid of leaving (Y/N) alone with his friend, so he kept staring at them awkwardly.

“Go,” Bill rolled his eyes. “I won’t hurt her,” he promised.

So Buck grabbed a pile of clothes preparead for him and went to the living room to change as fast as possible. When he came back to the kitchen, Bill was already eating some canned food with a slice of cheese and a few wild berries. A similar meal was waiting for Buck, too. (Y/N) was sitting by the table but she had no food in front of her.

“And you?” He asked her as he sat down.

“I already ate,” she told him but he had a feeling she lied so he pretended to be full already after eating a half of the plate. He offered her the rest and she eagerly took it from him as her eyes sparkled. It was probably her first “proper” meal on that day.

After they ate, (Y/N) showed them to their rooms. One belonged to her father and it was downstairs. Upstairs there were two tiny bedrooms. One was hers and one was her brother’s. She wanted Buck to sleep in it. She didn’t have to say it out loud but he knew that she trusted him more than she trusted his friend. Bill was not complaining because the room downstairs was bigger and had a nicer bed.

When Bill was already in the bedroom given to him, (Y/N) was helping Buck to put the sheets on. He was insisting there was no need but she tried her best to be a good host even in such gruesome circumstances.

“When I do this… It’s a bit like… It’s still normal, you know?” She tried to explain the best she could. He nodded at her. He understood. “There you go,” she fixed the sheets for the last time and looked down proudly at the made up bed.

“Thank you,” Buck nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. He looked up at the poster on her brother’s wall. It was very old and the colours were faded away now but he could recognise it. It was a movie poster of Charlie Chaplin’s movie City Lights.

“My brother liked Charlie Chaplin,” (Y/N) smiled. “And the films. Especially American ones. He didn’t get to see many but he liked the posters,” she explained. “When he was able to see a film, he would come back home and tell me everything about it.”

“I hope he’s alright,” Buck tried to cheer her up.

“He died,” she explained and he felt a stinging pain in his heart.

“You only said he hadn’t come back…”

“They sent us a medal and all. He’s dead,” she explained. “But papa threw the medal away. It’s in the river now.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t like Hitler. And my brother didn’t like him either,” she nodded. “I wish he was here, my brother. He would like you,” she added before finally approaching the door to leave him alone for the night. “Good night,” she walked away and closed the door quietly.

Buck was exhausted but he couldn’t sleep that night. He couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. What would happen tomorrow? She would take them to town, drop them off with the Americans and then what? She would just go back here? To that awful house in the middle of nowhere where she was starving and not safe? He hated to even think of such a possibility.

The walk to town was stressful and everyone kept giving them funny and suspicious looks. However, (Y/N)’s poker face and determination managed to take them to the town centre safely. It looked awful and empty – like a ghost town. She pointed at one of the soldiers patrolling the street and told them he was an American.

“Go to him,” she only said and turned around to walk away but Buck grabbed her by the sleeve of her coat and Bill hissed at him. Buck didn’t listen to that.

“What about you?” Buck asked her and her eyes widened.

“What do you mean? I don’t want him to see me,” she explained.

“You’re just going back home now?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“No,” Buck shook his head. “You’re coming with us.”

“What are you doing, Gale?” Bill asked, irritated.

“She deserves a warm meal at least,” Buck insisted and kept a tight grip on (Y/N)’s sleeve as they all approached the suspicious soldier.

They lifted their hands up and explained who they were. Their accents and believable numbers of their units made the patrolling soldier less hostile. But then he laid his eyes on the girl.

“And her?” He asked.

“She’s with us. She helped us,” Buck told him.

“I know her. She lives in this town,” the soldier squinted his eyes at (Y/N) and she took a deep breath in. “She’s German.”

“Yes, she helped us last night. We wouldn’t be here if it was not for her,” Buck repeated. “Listen, I just want her to eat something warm, alright?”

The soldier called for a few other men who came quickly after and had a short and quiet discussion. Eventually they nodded their heads at them and led them inside of a building full of soldiers. They all looked up curiously and suspiciously.

Bill left Buck’s side quickly to talk to the men stationed there. But Buck didn��t leave (Y/N)’s side as he felt he had to look after her in this place. They were given a proper, warm meal and they sat by the table in the corner. She was eating fast and with shaky hands like a starving child given food after a long while. Buck’s heart broke and he reached his hand out to hold one of her cold ones. She looked up, scared, and he smiled softly.

“Slow down,” he only whispered.

“The women here are nothing special,” one of the men sitting by the table nearby commented. “You should have seen the French ones,” he whistled.

Buck didn’t react to that as his jaw clenched. (Y/N) ignored that comment, too, but her eyes were saddened.

When she was done with her meal, Buck approached the man in charge of the unit and asked if they could give her a few cans of food and some other supplies. The man did not want to agree.

“We’re short on them ourselves, Major Cleven,” he explained.

“Yes, sir, I understand, sir. But she lives alone in the middle of nowhere. Her brother is dead, her father most likely, too. She helped us. She’s a good woman, sir,” Buck tried to convince him.

“There is no doubt about that, son. I’m sorry. She’s not the first and not the last good woman suffering in this war.”

Buck felt defeated and helpless when he approached (Y/N) who was already preparing to leave.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t convince him to give you supplies,” he admitted, ashamed of himself.

“It’s fine. I’ll be fine,” she tried to assure him and squeezed his arm. “You’re a good man,” she added. “Thank you for the meal… And the kindness.”

“I should be the one thanking you more,” he couldn’t help himself and he fixed her ruffled hair. Everything about her was screaming inside of him to help her, to take care of her. But he couldn’t and it was killing him. “I will never forget you, German girl.”

“And I will never forget you, Major Cleven,” she smiled and he could only watch her walk away, approaching the small road leading back to the forest.

If Bill hadn’t been there with him, he would have started thinking that she was nothing but a forest fairy he had imagined. After all he was in a land of fairytales.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #rougegenshin #*buck #lilysfiction #gale cleven x reader #austin butler x reader

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yoonivy · 23 hours

Text

gold rush; part 2.

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. romantic comedy — inspired by 10 things i hate about you and also another movie (can you guess which one? :) ) , college/university au, eventual smut, enemies to lovers (kinda??? their relationship is complicated to explain LOL)

In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total. So why is he starting now?

warnings. none.

author's note. i have no poetic bone in my body so oc's poem is taken from mitski's "your best american girl". enjoy!!!!

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07

This is not how you thought you’ll be spending your first day off in months — with your favorite distressed black tee of your favorite band covered in flour, eggs in your hair, and coloured icing staining your hands. But you suppose there are worse ways to spend your day off, and at least all this hard work will pay off with all the delicious desserts that Sansa is manically making.

And by manic, you are not at all joking in the slightest.

On every available surface of Sansa’s kitchen, there is at least one tray of some sort of baked goods cooling. Cookies on the kitchen table, banana bread and her favorite lemon cakes on the island, three different flavours of cheesecakes by the sink, and macaron shells currently in the oven. And she’s not even finished! While you are currently decorating the cookies, she is frantically stirring something else in a bowl — by hand, because once again for the 9th time this year, she had broken an electric mixer just a bit earlier.

There is only one reason Sansa gets like this. There is something troubling her mind. And by the looks of the disaster she made of her kitchen, it’s pretty big.

She’ll let you know when she’s ready to vent. But for now, you’re just both happy for the company.

Plus, you’re finally getting a hang of this icing piping thing if you do say so yourself. You stand back, picking up the sea salt caramel chip cookie you finished decorating to proudly show off the cute turtle to Sansa.

She laughs, offering an excited, “ Awwww!” before she goes back to mixing.

It’s quiet for a while, both of you concentrated on the task at hand.

Mayhaps too quiet, you start to think…

That is when you smell something… strange.

“Oh no!”

Sansa reacts and jumps on it first, quick to the oven with her mitts, pulling out the tray of charred macaron shells and placing it onto the stove. You stand by her as she slumps in defeat, and you notice she forgot to set the timer she already had ready on the oven.

From this close, it’s easier to notice how frazzled and disheveled Sansa truly is. Her copper hair is in disarray, falling from her tight bun in many places, her bangs messy against her forehead. Her rosy complexion even more flush than usual. And the bags under her eyes… She has not slept well.

Meeting your gaze, she lets out a heavy sigh, and finally comes out with it, “Jon asked me out.”

“ Oh… ” You trail off, eyes shifting from side to side. “That’s… that’s it?”

“What?!” Sansa is so shocked that you’re so nonchalant about it. As if she and Jon haven’t been dancing around each other for nearly two years now. “Isn’t that… Isn’t it…”

You gasp into an over exaggerated worried expression. “Oh no… you’re going to reject him, aren’t you?”

Your poor bestie… Now he is going to be even more sulky than ever. If that’s even possible.

“I— no! I mean, I want —” Sansa sputters, eyes widening wildly. Then she takes a breath to recollect herself, stares at you for a moment before she claims, “You all knew, didn’t you?”

You nod slowly.

“Even… Robb?”

“I’m pretty sure Robb’s the one that gave him the final push to ask you.”

Sansa groans, face palming. “This is so embarrassing…”

“Yeah, it’s so strange. How very Cersei Lannister of you,” you tease, clearly unserious with your reference to the recent scandal of the high profile actress who was caught having an affair… With her own twin brother, the most booked and busy male model Jaime Lannister. Some say the raunchy videos that leaked were just deep fakes and the twins were the ones who leaked it themselves to hide the fact they both weren’t straight, but many others — like yourself and Sansa — think it’s as real as can be. For the first two weeks when the scandal broke out, you and Sansa kept sending the group chat twitter “proof” threads of clips of the Lannister twins throughout the years (on the red carpet, the photoshoots they often were paired up with together, their own content they would post of one another) to convince your other friends. Needless to say, all the guys left the group chat and would only agree to be added back if the two of you shut the fuck up about it.

They’re lucky that the star of the reality television show "Keeping Up With The Martells", Arianne Martell, started dating comedian Pete Davidson a week later or else they would have never been added back.

Sansa’s face falls into a silent gasp, and you quickly have to convince her, “I’m joking, Sansa! You and Jon are nothing like them! And plus, cousins dating is not that weird… Aren’t your grandparents cousins?”

“Yes, but–”

“And they’re the most adorable little old couple I’ve ever seen! How they would always walk around the godswood every morning holding hands… my little heart couldn’t handle the cuteness every time I saw them when we were growing up!”

Sansa giggles, smiling fondly at the thought of her grandparents. “You’re right… They are so sweet.”

You share a smile, but then Sansa frowns suddenly. “But it’s not even that… I mean it was , but there’s also… There’s also the fact I was horrible to Jon when we were growing up.”

You won’t deny that, but… “Well clearly things have changed. You’ve changed. And it’s obvious Jon forgives you… And honestly, if I have to hear him be all sad boy and pine over you and play his guitar while singing some song by Cigarettes After Sex for another night, I think I might really have to K word myself.”

“Don’t do that!” Sansa laughs, shaking her head. You raise a brow at her and then she nods, determined.

“I’m going to talk to him… Right now,” Sansa declares, smiling wide. Then she takes your hands into hers. “Thank you… For being here for me when I’m such a mess.”

“It’s nothing, Sansa,” you say as you pull your hands from her grasp to wrap her into a tight hug. “I’m always here for you, you know that! And I know you’d do the same for me.”

After you both pull away, your finger grazes on her cheek and then you show her the pad now covered in cake mixture. “Maybe shower first before you talk to him?”

You both laugh, and then Sansa leaves you alone in her kitchen. You start to clean up, getting most of it done and only stopping when you pass by the tray of cookies you were working on.

As you stare at one of the chocolate chips you had decorated, you pull your phone out of your pocket.

To Aemond

— are you at school rn?

From Aemond

— Yes. At Barristan Hall.

— Why?

To Aemond

— okay good!

— STAY THERE!! 😡

From Aemond

— Alright.

— Why?

— Oh, so it's okay when you leave me on read?

You laugh at Aemond’s unintentional silliness while you slam close the car door you just stepped out of.

To Aemond — it’s only been 5 minutes you drama queen!! — i’ll see you soon!

“I was promised treats for the ride.”

You roll your eyes, looking across the hood of the car where Theon is putting on his clubmaster sunglasses. You meet him at the front of his car, handing him one of the little dessert packages you had made with Sansa. His eyes light up as he takes it, going ‘ oooh! ’, then he glances up into your eyes more expectantly. Even from behind the sunglasses, you can feel his little beady eyes doing that pleading, wide-eyed emoji look at you.

“You motherf…” You curse him under your breath, rummaging into your tote bag to hand him what he really wanted. The preroll you were saving for yourself later that evening.

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you, m’lady,” he says with a bow.

“Uh-huh.”

As the two of you walk off the parking lot together, Theon lights it up, takes a hit before handing it to you. “Why are you here anyway? I thought you didn't have classes today?”

“I don’t,” you tell him, after exhaling the sativa from your lungs. You hold up the second tote bag you were carrying to show him. “I’m just being a little dessert fairy! I’m gonna give one to Seaworth, Professor Tarth, and…”

Taking back the spliff and glancing your way, Theon grins and teases, “And your little Targaryen boyfie ?”

Your face twists in disgust. “Ew. Please never say that ever again,” Theon snickers as you continue, “And he’s not my boyfriend… We’re just… friends…question mark?”

You’re definitely not even sure about that. It’s been a week since the party, and you’ve yet to see Aemond in person since then.

But the two of you have been texting. A lot.

Surprisingly, Aemond is fun to text despite his perfect sentence structures, proper punctuation, and no use of emojis. Though strangely enough, you don’t even have to explain the internet slangs you say and memes you often send him, he just somehow knows. You usually get a very dry ‘Haha.’ and you’re not sure if he even finds it actually funny. He still keeps texting you though, so you take that as a good sign.

“ Friends… right. Because you make out with your friends all the time in front of a huge crowd.”

“How many times do I have to tell you: WE DID NOT MAKE OUT! OR EVEN KISS FOR THAT MATTER!”

Theon waves around the phone in his hand. “I have video evidence! And so does Marg! And a million other people that were at the party!”

“And you’re all dumb, like I’ve said before,” you tell him with a pout. You can’t believe the videos of you and Aemond “kissing” gained traction around the students at your school and yet none of your sick dance moves did. The world is so unfair!

As the two of you stop by the doors of the building where his first and only class of the day is being held, Theon steps on the roach of the spliff. Then he turns to you, pulling down his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, enough for you to see his eyes. “How do I look?”

“Like you smoked half a joint.”

“Shit… Mordane is going to kill me.”

You hum, satisfied. “Perhaps it’s deserved… I know it’s your video that’s been spreading around, you little shit!”

From the anonymous TikTok video that Jon showed you that was being spread around the night after the party titled “Vale U’s Ice Prince snogging the weirdest girl at Vale U”, you can hear Margaery gasping beside the cameraman and the cameraman laughing annoyingly. It’s definitely Theon.

Theon now laughs again, the same annoying laugh from the video, and shrugs his shoulders flippantly. Opening the doors, he lilts at you, “Say hi to your boyfie for me!”

With your middle finger up at him, you sing-song back, “I won’t!”

“Theon says hi .”

Aemond eyes you quizzically, brows furrowing together in a way that you would think is cute if he was your boyfriend like Theon teases. But he’s not, so it’s like, whatever…

“Theon…?” He repeats, still confused.

“You know, my friend who I think spread that video of us?”

“ Ah… ” Aemond lets out, finally putting a face to the name. Then he looks up at you from where you are standing just beside the table he is sitting at, clearing his throat. “So… How have you been?”

“Fine,” you tell him with a shrug, glancing around the room. You think this must be the first time you’ve been to Barristan Hall since… Well, since your tour guide of the University two years ago. This building is unnecessarily too bougie , and it’s where the more privileged students (read, nepo babies ) like to spend their time on campus. Even this study hall — if you can even call it that — has a stall of the most expensive coffee store chain in it and a freaking high-end bar . It’s ridiculous!

Aemond is at least studying judging by the book and laptop he has opened in front of him, unlike the other students mingling around.

You then turn your attention back to him, finding his eye still on you. With a soft smile, you return his question, “How about you? How have you been?”

Aemond sits up a little straighter as he says, “I’ve been… well.” He then presses his lips together, before opening his mouth again, “So, what—”

“Oh, ____! Fancy seeing you here!”

You and Aemond glance to where Ramsay, Aegon, and Vis are all approaching the two of you.

Before you can even dodge it, Ramsay has his arms wrapped around you. Cringing, you push him off you with a glare that he takes with an amused chuckle. He leans in close, too close , and inhales deeply, smirking at you when he pulls back, “You smell real sweet, sweetheart.”

You make a face that hopefully conveys your utter disgust for him but then Aegon pushes him aside with his arms wide open towards you with pout, “Where’s my hug at, ____?”

You suppress a grimace, tentatively hugging Aegon back when he steps towards you, patting his back awkwardly. It’s strange for Aegon to be this friendly towards you, but maybe it’s because Aemond and you are sorta, kinda, maybe friends now? And Aegon was the nicer of the two towards you when you were growing up. Daeron and Helaena are still the sweetest though.

From over your shoulder, Aegon smirks at his little brother, the glare Aemond has on him making him tighten his arm around you.

Luckily Vis does not seem to care for you, already sitting down at the table with Aemond with his iced Sunspearino. Aegon finally lets you go and join, sitting beside his brother – bending down to snicker mischievously into Aemond’s ear before he does so. Hidden from view from under the table, Aemond’s knuckles whiten from his clenched fist.

Ramsay stays standing with his hips cocked and arms crossed, his sleazy gaze steady on you.

Ugh.

“So, ____, have you visited our father lately?” Aegon asks, throwing his arm around Aemond.

“Yup, just yesterday!” You tell him. Then to both him and Aemond, you suggest, “You know, you two should visit him more often. He’s always asking about you guys as if I know what the two of you are up to…”

Aegon snorts while Aemond frowns, looking down.

“Last time we visited, we found some very interesting… things , that our dear father has been hiding,” Aegon says, eyeing you closely.

“Like what…?” Your face twists. “... Porn ? Actually — whatever it is, don’t even tell me!”

The boys laugh – except Aemond – and Aegon points towards you, wagging his finger, “You’re pretty funny. I like you!”

“Told ya she’s cute,” Ramsay comments and you almost gag.

“I don’t know about that…” Vis mutters under his breath. “She has egg in her hair for crying out loud…”

With your mouth downturned, you glance down at your hair and find that he is right — you do have egg in your hair. Well that’s embarrassing…

“You’re here to give me something, weren’t you?” Aemond asks, changing the subject.

“Oh right!” You exclaim, pulling out a neatly plastic wrapped package tied together with a red ribbon and placing it on the table for Aemond. Inside the clear plastic sheet are different individually boxed sweets in clear small tupperware. It’s a bit extra, but that’s Sansa for you! “I spent the morning baking with a friend and we made too much, so… Here you go!” Then you grin at Vis, holding up a piece of your hair, “The reason why I have egg,” you tell him with a laugh. He smiles tightly, still unamused.

You turn back to Aemond, pointing out the different dessert from outside the package, “I wasn’t sure what you liked so I gave you a bit of everything… That’s lemon cake over there, Sansa’s favorite. Oh, the macarons! I think I gave you the pistachio and coffee flavored one. Um… Strawberry cheesecake. The banana bread is pretty fire… and,” Your eyes light up as you giddily talk, and Aemond’s cheeks heats up, “I decorated that cookie myself! Don’t you think it’s cute?” You meet his eyes, and he startles, realizing he has been looking at you the entire time instead of following what you were pointing out. You did not notice, only smiling at him as you let him know “It’s a dragon, like your family—”

“That doesn’t look like a dragon,” Aegon remarks rudely, and both you and Aemond snap at him at the same time, “Yes, it does!”

You throw an appreciative smile at Aemond which he returns with a coy half-grin, while Aegon murmurs with a frown, “Geez, talk about touchy ….”

“Thank you,” Aemond says softly, pulling the package towards himself.

Grinning, you wave him off, “No problem!”

Then you glance at the time on your phone. “I should get going,” you tell him, already backing away. “I’ll talk to you later!”

Aemond stands suddenly, but doesn’t move, just nods as his hands stay pressed on the table. “Yeah, later…”

You throw him one final glance back with a sweet smile on your face and he grins back.

Once you’re gone, that’s when he finally sits back down.

“I guess Aemond has game after all,” Vis smirks. “Didn’t think you had it in you…”

Ramsay harrumphs, now also seated. “She never once gave me a package of sweets…” Then he grins sordidly, “But she did give something else that’s pretty sweet if you know what I mean…”

“Fuck off,” Aegon laughs out loud. “You’re gonna make Aemond blow a fuse.”

“He shouldn’t be getting attached to her,” Vis reminds Aegon, and Aemond in turn with a furrowed look. “Isn’t that the whole plan?”

“Looks like he’s getting pretty attached to me,” Ramsay says with a yawn.

“I’m not,” Aemond says, surely. “I’m just trying to make it all believable. Isn’t that the plan also?”

“So you wouldn’t mind if I have a go again after you dump her?” Ramsay asks, with an innocent tilt in his voice. “I’ve missed that tight cunt …”

Tension clenches Aemond’s jaw minutely, then evenly he says, “Go ahead. By my guest.”

But when Aegon tries to grab for one of the sweets, Aemond snatches it away, and stuffs the package with care in his bag. He then stands up and gathers all his things, stalking away without another word.

Aegon heaves a sigh, incredulously asking, “What’s his problem?!”

Ramsay smirks, letting out a chuckle. “Oh, this is going to be fun …”

You managed to catch Professor Tarth before she left the campus, so your next and final stop for the dessert delivery is your favorite teacher, your literature professor, Davos Seaworth.

You find him in his office and he does not even hesitate to dig into the double mocha cheesecake in his sweets package.

“How many extra credits do you want for this?” He asks, pointing at the cheesecake he is almost finished. “I’ll give you as many as you want.”

You laugh while shaking your head, flipping through a book he had just given you to read at your leisure. “No credits! But I’ll make sure to bring you more of that one next time!”

Knowing Sansa, next time will be pretty soon.

“Hmm… alright…” Davos trails off, dabbing his beard with a napkin. “By the way, have you signed up for the poetry slam I told you about?”

You sink into your seat, the one across the desk he is sitting at, sheepishly grinning at him, “Not yet…”

Davos hums out disgruntledly. “And why not?”

“I completely forgot about it,” you say with a shrug, you know, like a liar.

In truth, it’s all you’ve been thinking about. The poetry slam competition at Moon Door Cafe, where the winner will win a 5k cheque and their poetry collection published in a book — both of which you need and want, respectively.

“You better, ____. I’ve already told my friend to look out for you.”

“Okay, then I will,” you try to tell him, but Davos keeps his skeptical gaze on you. “I promise I’ll send in an email tonight!”

Then, once again like a liar, you don’t.

Two days later, Aemond finds himself standing by your apartment door, his life getting threatened by the muted snarling of the biggest wolf he has ever seen, so early in the morning.

“Ghost, stop… ” Jon Snow frowns at the white direwolf that still has its teeth bared at Aemond. Jon gently pushes the wolf aside, opening the door wider to allow Aemond to step inside. “Don’t worry, he won’t bite… He’s just… uh… I don’t even know what his problem is today…” Jon sends Aemond a weak smile, “He’s usually pretty friendly…”

Aemond eyes the wolf before turning to Jon. “It’s fine. I’m not really good with animals.”

Jon offers him a slow nod, then informs Aemond, “____’s just in a washroom. Getting ready, I think?”

Aemond hums just as Jon presents his hand. “I don’t think we’ve properly met, I’m Jon. ____’s roommate, and uh… best friend?”

Aemond shifts the coffee tray over to hold with just one hand to shake it. “Aemond. Why do you sound unsure?”

Jon laughs softly, “Oh, I don’t know…”

Aemond eyes him for a second then hums again. He remembers you telling him about how awkward Jon is, so that might be it.

Aemond then glances around the small space — a living room, kitchen, and dining room all in one — it’s homely and cozy, and he can definitely picture you in here. Flitting around, watering the plants, dancing to the music playing from the vinyl player, cooking in the kitchenette…

“Oh, hey! I went with ____ to your dad’s place yesterday!”

The smile on Aemond’s face falls just when he turns to see Jon grinning wide at him.

“He’s really awesome! And a hell of a Cyvasse player — I think he beat me in just four turns!” Jon recalls with a laugh.

Aemond exhales heavily, offering Jon a tight-lipped smile. “That’s… great.”

Feeling the awkward tension finally, Jon rubs a hand at the back of his neck. “Oh, uh… yeah…”

“Whoa, hey! What are you doing here?”

Aemond glances over to where Ghost pads to, and his eye widen and balks when he sees you just wrapped in a tiny towel.

You walk around your apartment like this — with Jon just in the room?!

He then swerves his stare at Jon who looks unmoved but looking at you as well.

“I think he brought you breakfast,” Jon tells you all nonchalantly, and Aemond lifts up the coffee tray he is carrying dumbly.

Your whole face lights up, smiling wide at him, so much brighter than the sun coming through the windows, “Aw, that’s so sweet! Wait, let me get dressed first!” You hurry into your room, slamming the door behind you and Ghost who follows you in.

“Is this for the desserts I gave you!?” He hears you call from behind the door. “Because you really didn’t have to!”

“It’s–” he starts to call out, but you are already walking out your room. And although it took you less than a minute, you look absolutely… breathtaking.

Aemond will not admit it, but his heart leaps to his throat; staring at you all slack jawed and short of breath.

You bounce to him cheerfully; Ghost in tow, now happier as well by the way his tail wags. You grab one of the paper bags on the tray, opening it to find an almond croissant. “ Oooh , but I won’t say no!” You smile at him gratefully, “Thank you! ”

Aemond takes a hard swallow, and finds himself smiling back, “No problem.”

As he sets the tray down on the small round kitchen table, you break off a piece of the croissant and offer it to Jon to taste. Aemond watches the interaction with a frown on his face. He shakes it off with a shake of his head, and pulls out one of the cups from the tray, handing it to you, “This is for you.”

You take it happily, but as you read through the label the barista had messily written on the cup, your face begins to falter. “Oh, um…”

Aemond’s expression hardens. “You don’t like lattes?”

“No! I love lattes!” You quickly say. “It’s great–”

“She’s lactose intolerant,” Jon explains and Aemond’s face falls.

“It’s all good! I can just take lactaid!”

“But you hate hot drinks…”

“Jon… You’re not helping…” You tell your best friend through gritted teeth.

“But it’s freezing outside,” Aemond states, so he thought you’d appreciate something warm for this chilly morning…

“Okay, don’t judge me…” you glare playfully at Aemond. “I like iced drinks! Is that such a crime?”

Aemond shakes his head, though he is still frowning. “No, it’s not…”

Your head tilts at the look on his face, confused. “Aemond…”

“Here, give it to me,” Jon says, reaching for the cup in your hand. Once he has it, he goes to the cupboard, pulling out a water bottle. Then from the freezer, he grabs an ice tray, putting ice and the latte into the bottle before handing it back to you.

“There,” Jon says with a satisfied grin. “All better for Miss Fussy.”

“Fuck you,” you huff out, and yet you laugh and your tone fond. “But what would I do without you?”

“I honestly don’t even know…”

As Aemond glances between you and your best friend sharing a smile, a strange feeling stirs inside him.

“Is this your first time taking the bus?”

Aemond glares your way for your senseless question. “Of course not.”

But as he struggles to make himself comfortable on the seat beside yours, you have to giggle to yourself. It’s definitely his first time.

Aemond rolls his eye and ignores your tittering.

Aemond’s annoyed, and rightfully so. You and him had a perfectly good ride to school but you insisted on taking the bus so Aemond let his driver go for the day to accompany you.

“Theon calls her a bus wanker,” Aemond remembers Jon saying earlier with a laugh while you got your school bag from your room.

At the puzzled look on Aemond’s face, Jon frowned, “You know… Like from the show… The Inbetweeners?”

Still confused, Jon finally told him, “It’s one of _____’s favorite shows. We, uh, rewatch it every few years together.”

And there Jon goes, once again reminding Aemond the history between the two of you. How he knows everything there is to know about you.

Now that’s a wanker , Aemond thinks a little too spitefully.

Whatever, it doesn't even matter. Once Aemond finishes what he needs to do, he does not even need to know or remember all your favorite things anymore. All that knowledge will be useless to him in the future.

Crossing his arms against his chest, Aemond huffs haughtily, nostrils flaring. He grimaces; something smells strange in there, and he feels eyes on him. It’s a kid, unabashedly staring at him — or more particularly, his eyepatch. Aemond is sure that the boy is the reason for foul stench also, so he glowers at him, mouth pulled back in the sneer.

He turns to you, about to ask why you enjoy riding on this godforsaken public transit ride, but then his expression lightens when he finds you staring out the window, a sleepy yet faraway look clouding your face. Your brows are furrowed, too deep in thought during such a bumpy ride, for so early in the morning.

“What are you thinking about?” Aemond inquires a bit too softly as if his mouth moved faster than his mind, but it still pulls you out of your haze.

You grin at him, head shaking. “It’s…”

Sighing, you pull out your phone to find something, then once you do, you hand it over to him.

Aemond tries not be bothered by the notifications that keeps popping up —

fellowship of the cool people + theon Jon 🐺— dinner at mine and ____’s tonight??

(Aemond refrains from rolling his eye.)

fellowship of the cool people + theon 🌈MeerMeer 🌼— 👍 — i’ll bring the weed

fellowship of the cool people + theon Robb 🐸— oh hell yeah!

fellowship of the cool people + theon GreyNoJoy 🦑— i’ll bring the best thing… myself 🥰

fellowship of the cool people + theon Margie 🌹❤️— ew

And Aemond focuses on the webpage you pulled up instead.

It is a Poetry Slam competition hosted by one of the best Music and Arts publications in the whole six continents, R'hllor Stone, at the Moon Door Cafe which is close by the Vale U campus. The winner gets a 5k cash prize, a book of their poetry published, and a full double-page feature in the magazine.

And the last day to sign up is… Today, at midnight.

“You haven’t signed up yet, have you?”

“Nope,” you tell him, popping the ‘p’.

After handing you back your phone, Aemond hums for a moment, in thought. “Why not?”

“I don’t know,” you sigh, shrugging. “I guess I haven’t been super confident in my latest pieces, so it’s a bit daunting to send it in to be judged.”

“Do you want me to look over it? Give you my honest opinion?”

You make a face. Because hell no . Aemond is the last person you want to be reading your poetry. Mr. Psychology Major will probably psychoanalyze your musings and deem you crazy – or just plain stupid, which is more likely.

“Well if it’s like the one you recently published on the school’s Instagram page, then I think it’s more than adequate.”

You whip your head to stare wide-eyed at him. Shocked. Flabbergasted. Befuddled.

“ You read that?!”

Aemond flushes bright red, like he had not meant to confess that out loud.

“It’s our stop,” He declares to move on from the subject, standing up suddenly to push at the button on one of the handles for the bus to stop.

“Wait, Aemond —”

But he doesn’t wait, knowing you are following behind him.

Aemond gets off the bus first, then turns to offer you his hand to help with the steps.

Aemond can’t help but note how your hand slips so easily into his. So warm against the cold that he finds himself holding onto you a little tighter.

Once you are both off the bus, Aemond glances around, clearly lost. He’s never seen this area of the campus before…

“Yeah… This isn’t our stop. We still had four to go,” You tell him with a snarky chuckle. When he glares at you, you defend yourself quickly, “Hey! I tried to tell you!”

Aemond huffs a bit petulantly then starts to drag you the same direction the bus drove away at.

He also can’t help but note that you let him hold your hand until he walks you to the building of your first class.

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🎵 dreams tonite · alvvays

The call arrives five days later, when you are studying in one of the libraries on campus.

You step away to pick it up, with Aemond raising a brow at you.

(The two of you have been spending a lot of time together. Too much, maybe.

Margaery jokes they’ve all been replaced. Theon says he’s officially your boyfie . Robb tells you to be careful.

You tell them all to mind their business. And that the two of you are NOT dating.

Aemond is just a friend, and nothing more.)

You find a secluded aisle before you answer your phone. “Hello?”

“Good afternoon… Am I speaking to ____ ____?” The sultry voice from the other side asks.

“Yes, speaking…”

“Wonderful. I’m Melisandre, the editor-in-chief for R'hllor Stone—”

“I know who you are!” You squeal, a little too excitedly. You press your fingers to your mouth, eyelids squeezing shut in mortification. “Sorry, I’m sorry… I’ll, um…”

Melisandre laughs. “It’s quite alright! I’m just as excited as you are… I’ve read through your poetry portfolio for the Poetry Slam contest and I’m impressed…”

“You are…?” You ask, voice small and timid.

“I am,” Even through the phone, you can hear her smile. “I called to congratulate you for making it through the next round.”

You gasp. “Really?!” Earning you a shhhh! from someone an aisle over.

She laughs again and reassures you that it’s no joke. Then she informs you that she’ll be sending an email with more details soon — on what the theme will be, the schedule, etc.

“I’m glad Davos told me to look out for you. I can’t wait to meet you in person, ____,” Melisandre says before saying her goodbye and hanging up.

Your mouth drops in shock.

Oh… Your favorite professor will definitely be getting an earful from you… How many times have you gushed the works of Melisandre to him and he never once mentioned she was the friend he was talking about?

Well, an earful after you thank him profusely.

Speaking of saying thanks…

You head back to Aemond, standing by where he sits and motion for him to stand. His gaze is quizzical, so you do it again — your palm up in an upward motion, nodding as your eyes flutter shut with a cute grin.

As if annoyed, Aemond let’s out a soft huff of hot air. But you think you know him at least a little bit better now, and it’s just a front he puts up. You’re starting to believe that his dad is right — that underneath all that cold exterior is a sweet guy deep inside.

And you want to be the one to melt his icy, cold heart.

As a friend, of course .

As soon as he stands, you throw yourself at him, hugging around his tiny waist. He staggers back with an oof! You laugh, jumping back just as quickly as you were on him.

You think you might have broken his brain a bit by the way stares at you with his eye wide and his mouth open dumbly.

“What are you—? What was that—?”

He can’t seem to choose which question to ask, so you save him the trouble and say, “I made it into the Poetry Slam contest. And I hugged you because you were the reason I sent in my application,” with your hand on your hips cocked to the side, you tease, “I figured if your pretentious ass liked my stuff then what am I afraid of?”

Unsure, Aemond says, “You’re welcome…?”

You chuckle, grinning wide. “No, seriously… thank you.”

He wets his lips then smiles too — that genuine smile again. The one you’ve been seeing more and more of each and every day.

“Congratulations,” he says. And is it weird to say you think he looks proud of you?

Unexpectedly shy all of the sudden under his gaze, you start to shift nervously side to side. “Do you… Want to… come watch?”

Then a bit more hurriedly, you prattle on, “You don’t have to or anything! Just – If you’re not doing anything! It’s on a Saturday so you probably have better things to do—“

You stop babbling when Aemond shoves his phone screen your way. It’s on the calendar app, and on the last Saturday of the month, in two weeks, he has it marked off as “____’s poetry slam, @ moon door cafe, 1 PM”.

Feeling thrown, you look away from the screen to meet his eye. “How did you…?”

Shrugging, Aemond puts his phone back into his pocket.

“I guess I had a feeling,” He smirks confidently. “You’re too headstrong to not at least give it a try…” The smirk then shifts into something warmer, his face softening. “And of course I’ll come… I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Aemond looks a little hazy then — like a dream.

And your stomach? Full of stupid butterflies.

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🎵 the start of something · voxtrot

The theme for the competition is Romantic Love.

Which makes sense since the R’hllor Stone cover artist for the issue that the slam poetry winner will be featured in is the pop darling, Luvie — the stage name of Myrcella Baratheon.

Yes, the same Myrcella Baratheon who is the daughter of Cersei Lannister. Weirdly enough, the scandal breaking out didn’t affect her career at all. There was a very brief moment that people were making rumors that her and her brothers were really the children of their uncle, Jaime Lannister, and not their late political figure father, Robert Baratheon. But that was squashed rather quickly. It’s impressive. Luvie has got to have the best PR team ever — people did not even realize she was an industry plant and a nepo baby until two years into her career. But then again, her other uncle, Tyrion Lannister, is also the most prolific lawyer of this time.

Enough about Luvie. If you could, you’d talk about it all day. Probably the worst trait about you — your love for celebrity gossip. You’d eat up a cheating scandal between two married daytime news anchors that committed adultery on their spouses with each other even if you’ve never watched their program even once in your life.

Besides, you don’t have time to dwell on celeb gossip. With the competition coming up and the days rushing by so quickly, you needed all your free time to focus on writing the piece for it.

Only problem is, it’s been awfully hard to come up with something. It’s like there is a block in your mind every time you grab a notebook or open up the notes app on your phone.

You already know the main issue for that…

You’ve never been in love before.

Deep infatuation? Sure.

But love love? Never ever.

And it’s not like you’re a closed off and guarded person. Quite the opposite. You wear your heart on your sleeve. Your love languages are the neediest of the five: physical touch and words of affirmation. You date with the intent of making the relationship become something serious, every single time. And still… nothing.

“It’s so bad ...!” You groan, scratching out another line on the current poem you’ve been working on for the past two days. You read the whole thing over – all five stanzas already written – and deem the whole poem awful. You turn the page to a blank one, needing to start over all over again.

When nothing comes after minutes passing, you let out a resigned sigh, slumping on the wooden stool you’re on and say out loud to the room, “I give up. I’m gonna call Melisandre and tell her to pull me out of the competition.”

The only other person in said room with you snorts. You turn to glare at Meera, who meets your gaze for a second with a grin and then continues to water the plants in the room.

The two of you are at the floral shop Meera works at. You thought a change in scenery would be good for inspiration. Clearly not — not even being surrounded by the flowers that people often associate with love helped with anything.

“I’m serious, Meer!”

“Sure you are…” she playfully indulges with a roll of her eyes. “You’re a little too headstrong to give up that easily.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?!” You cross your arms, pouting to yourself.

“Cause it’s true,” Meera simply says. She then sets herself at the wooden work table in the back of the room and calls for you to join her. Laying on the table is the ugliest flower you’ve ever seen in your life.

She hands you the little printed out online order sheet. As you read it over, she heads over to the flower buckets to peruse the selections.

“ I request a bouquet with kale, it’s the salad my darling ate on our first date, ” you read out loud, face twisting in disgust after the fact. You eye the purple and green monstrosity on the table, “Ew, how romantic . Does this dude even know how ugly kale is?”

“Probably not,” Meera laughs. She comes back with various bunches of different stems of flowers in her gloved hand. “But I wanted to show you something…”

She picks up the kale first, showing you again. “Horrid, right?”

“Yeah. Ugliest fucker ever.”

Chuckling, Meera starts to trim it. “That may be true, but I need it to be the star of this bouquet and find a way to make it… pleasant on the eyes.”

You hum, nodding as you watch her work.

“Sometimes… Something good can come from nothing… I didn’t have any particular feelings about ornamental kale before but the more I worked with it… The more inspired I became… and then…”

Meera adds one last sprig of baby’s breath to the arrangement.

“There!”

You are in shock… Somehow, Meera managed to make the kale bouquet beautiful — bringing out the purple with white hydrangeas, baby’s breath, and heather. You would even spend money on it yourself. No wonder Robb always goes to Meera for flowers whenever Margaery is mad at him. You tell her all that yourself.

Meera laughs in thanks, then concludes, “So what I’m trying to say is… Pick a subject. Embellish your feelings a little. You don’t really have to be in love or have been in love to write about it… Do you really think Taylor Swift had real and genuine feelings for the Owl City guy when she wrote the masterpiece that is Enchanted?”

You gasp, eyes lighting up — everything clearer to you. “Oh my god! You’re so right!” You sniff then, grabbing a hold of her hand and squeezing it, “Meera… You speak Swiftie now.”

She groans, slapping a palm on her forehead. “You, Sansa, Margaery, and Theon have ruined me.”

You giggle a bit, before your face falls to a pout.

“Who am I supposed to write about though?” You ask with a dramatic and forlorn sigh, going back to your little stool by the cash register.

Meera shrugs, wrapping up the bouquet prettily. “Just someone, anyone… Whoever comes to mind first?”

At her words, you think of a violet eye and a face so taut and sour as if they had just sucked on a lemon.

You laugh to yourself.

Then your pen hits the paper, and the words begin to flow.

Aemond arrives at Moon Door Cafe early when there are plenty of empty seats available, but still sticks to the wall at the back of the room. He already caught sight of your friends at a table near the stage and yet he did not make an effort to greet them. It’s not like they’re his friends, he hasn’t even met any of them formally except for Jon. And he does not want to make fake pleasantries with Jon. There’s just something about the guy he does not like.

So he stays at the back of the cafe until the room fills and the lights go down.

He looks over the pamphlet he was given at the door, and sees that you are the fourth to last to go up out of the 15 contestants. Which means he’ll be here for a while. Aemond frowns in discontent.

He’s not really much for poetry — he’ll devour any form of literature except poetry. Which is funny, considering he has a few written about him in the form of a song.

But he supposes after reading a few of yours… Yours weren’t all too terrible. He can ever dare say he likes a few of them.

So that’s the only reason he’s staying… Just to listen.

He has been curious. He didn’t know you did any spoken poetry, all the ones he has seen of yours were written. But you must have at least some experience with it, one of the requirements for the portfolio was two examples of spoken poetry.

Aemond wonders if you’d be clamorous, if your words will be punctuated with cheerful sarcasm like always.

He grins to himself.

And how about the theme? Romantic love… Who did you write about?

His gaze flits to the front of the room at the man with the dark curly hair and unkempt beard and scowls. He watches him smile wide and snap his fingers for the poet on stage. Then suddenly he stands up, clapping and hooting with the rest of his friends.

That’s when Aemond realizes that you were getting on the stage. He didn’t notice that many performers had gone up already, none of them really held his attention. Until now.

He straightens up a little, snapping his fingers with the rest of the room.

You walk to the mic, confident. If you hadn’t texted him about how nervous you were earlier when he texted you to ‘Break a leg.’, he would have bought the front you were putting up.

You’ve already been introduced by Melisandre, so all you have to do now is just go straight into your poem.

You smile at the crowd, disarming them with your charm, before you take a tentative breath and —

If I could, I'd be your little spoon

And kiss your fingers forevermore

But, big spoon, you have so much to do

And I have nothing ahead of me

There is a song-like cadence to your soft voice, as if you were singing. It draws him in, hanging onto your every word.

You're the sun, you've never seen the night

But you hear its song from the morning birds

Well, I'm not the moon, I'm not even a star

But awake at night I'll be singing to the birds

Aemond is enraptured. Enchanted. Beguiled.

Don't wait for me, I can't come

Your mother wouldn't approve of how my mother raised me

But I do, I think I do

He had no idea that simple poetry could move him like this.

You're the one

You're all I ever wanted

I think I'll regret this

Your stare is fixed, not on anyone. Just a faraway, melancholy gaze on nothing in particular. It makes you look all the more hauntingly beautiful. Aemond finds himself willing you to look at him.

You don’t.

Your mother wouldn't approve of how my mother raised me

But I do, I finally do

Instead, when you finish, your gaze flicks to the front of the room with a tender smile — at him .

Aemond feels his chest tighten a little.

The room fills with loud snapping as you descend the stage, and once your feet hit the floor, you are being lifted at the waist and hugged tight by Jon Snow.

Aemond watches on bitterly for a couple more seconds, expression pinching at the way Jon joyfully spins the two of you around, then turns to leave.

He waits at the front of the cafe for his chauffeur, tapping his foot impatiently on the ground.

“You’re really leaving without congratulating me?”

Aemond wets his mouth indignantly. He knew he should have texted Podrick to meet him earlier.

“You haven’t won yet,” Is all Aemond says as he turns to look at you, a smirk curling his lips.

You glare at him, arms crossing against your chest.

“Gods. Are you always such a dick? I know I haven’t won yet… I don’t even think I will win. I meant just… congratulating me for even putting myself up there,” you frown, looking off to the side, trying to blink away the hurt.

Seven Hells , Aemond sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He just can’t seem to keep his mouth shut, can he? He always has a penchant to make everything worse.

Stuffing his hands into his coat pockets, Aemond takes a step towards you. “You were… Amazing up there,” You eye him warily, disbelieving, so he continues, “I mean it… You got me hanging onto your every word. Congrats.”

“Thanks…” You murmur from the corner of your mouth, bashful. It was your turn then to take a step towards him, still glowering at him when you say, “But you didn’t even say hi, and now you’re trying to leave without even saying goodbye.”

“My apologies. I didn’t want to keep you from celebrating with your boyfriend ,” Aemond says, tone clipped.

Did you hear that right, Aemond thinks you have a — “Boyfriend…?”

“You and Jon are dating, aren’t you?”

You’d laugh if it wasn't so ridiculous. “No! Jon’s dating Sansa! And besides that, he’s just my best friend. Wait a second… Did you think we’re dating cause he’s my roommate ?”

“No, but…” Aemond shakes his head, unable to grasp what you are telling him. He already made this whole story up in his head. “You fancy him, don’t you?”

“No!” You almost gag at the thought. Because, ew.

“You don’t have to lie to me, ___,” Aemond scoffs, taking another step towards you. “You find him attractive, don’t you?”

“I mean…” You think about it for a second. Jon’s your best friend and you’ve never had romantic feelings for him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t have eyes! And besides, even if you didn’t find Jon attractive, you’re not about to bash his looks for no reason at all. “Have you seen the guy?”

“I have and I’m not impressed,” Aemond tuts with a roll of his eye.

“Maybe it’s because you only have one eye?” The rhetorical question slips from your mouth before you could even stop it.

You are frozen as Aemond’s mouth drops slightly before it closes to press into a hard thin line. He is mad, and understandably so.

“Wait, Aemond, I didn’t mean it like th—”

“So how did you mean it?” In an instant, he is in front of you, nostrils flared. His violet eye alight with a simmering burning, “So I guess it’s because I only have one eye that I find you attractive?”

Your gaze widens and your cheeks are burning up. Did he just…?

That’s when you notice that Aemond looks just as shocked. But only for a second. If he had not meant to say that aloud, the blank look he puts on carefully hides it well. It is the flush high on his cheekbones and the heavy rise and fall of his chest that gives him away though.

You look up at him, keenly aware of his proximity. A warmth spreads through you at how much he towers over you. He can definitely manhandle you in the way that you like. And the way his domineering gaze pinned you to the spot makes you desperately long for him to pin you against a wall instead.

You start to laugh. Loud at that.

Because you realize an undeniable truth…

You want him. Gods. You want Aemond Targaryen.

Even more now that you know he wants you as well.

The admittance makes you laugh more.

And so, with no preamble at all and just straight to the point, you ask him—

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

Aemond stares at you like you’re insane.

Then, as if without any doubt in his mind, he says — yes.

a.t.

🎵 there’s a light that never goes out · the smiths

Even though you were the one to ask him out, Aemond offers to plan the date.

You didn’t mind. Between school, work, and stressing about the results of the competition, you were just going to take him to the movies. Which, looking back now, is lame; and you highly doubt you’ll get a second date if you forced Aemond to sit through a movie about a killer AI doll.

So you let him take the reins — surprise me , you told him with a wink after letting him know which days the next two weeks that you’d be free.

Four days after the competition, Aemond surprises you — or maybe more so Theon, who screams out girlishly when Aemond appeared directly behind him when the silver haired man approached you and your friends during lunch in the southern building cafeteria.

Theon still has his hand over his heart, halfway off the bench, but Aemond disregards him to tell you, “I’ll pick you up at 4 tomorrow for our date. Be sure to be ready.”

Then he saunters off.

“He’s so intense… it’s kinda sexy,” Margaery says.

Your other friends admit their agreement in various degrees of reluctance as you all watch Aemond’s back retreating until he is out of the room.

“Where do you think he’s going to take you?” Sansa asks eagerly, leaning on the table to get closer to you.

You give her an exaggerated shrug as an answer just as Theon comments, “Probably somewhere so fun… The library!”

You successfully shove him off the bench he is still precariously on. He lands on his ass on the floor but he is guffawing at his own joke.

“Nah… He’ll definitely take her to the fanciest restaurant in the Vale, book it all out so it’s just the two of them, and then confess he’s been in love with her since they were 14,” Meera says with a scrunch of her nose. “Real straight people shit.”

“Oh, I know where he’ll take her,” Robb says, straightening up confidently for everyone’s attention. “Into the forest, where there will be a clearing, and then he’ll rip off his shirt to show ____ that he… sparkles.”

Your friends start howling with laughter at that, so loud that students from other tables turn to look. You’re laughing too, but quieter, pouting with both your hands pressed on your face from embarrassment.

“You’re all awful!” You moan. “And you know what?! Maybe I want him to be Edward Cullen, maybe then I can tell him to drain the blood of all my “so-called” best friends!”

“Have fun playing baseball in the forest tomorrow, then,” Jon teases, causing your friends to laugh more.

Sweeping a glare at all of them, you bite out, “I. will. Thank you!”

From Aemond

— Please dress warm and comfortably.

As you read the new text while you are getting ready for the date, a shiver goes down your spine.

Oh Gods.

He is taking you to a forest, isn’t he?

If Aemond is a vampire, you wouldn’t be surprised. But you have seen him growing up, so maybe not.

You groan, shoving off the silky dress you had wanted to wear. It’s so pretty, but you doubt that it will be comfortable or warm enough for a trek through the woods.

So you settle with a white turtleneck under a red cardigan, dark blue jeans, a Sherpa lined shearling leather jacket, and broken-in Docs.

Comfortable, warm, and cute.

You grin at your reflection through the mirror just as you receive another text.

From Aemond

— I’m waiting downstairs.

After giving yourself another once over and grabbing your purse for the day, you text back:

To Aemond

— coming ☺️ !!!

When you step out of your room, three pairs of eyes turn your way, ignoring the Super Smash Bros round they’re playing to annoy you all the way out the door with their comments and shiteating grins.

“You look pretty, ___!”

“Thanks Jon!”

“Have fun and use protection!”

“Take your own advice, Robb!”

“Say hi to your boyfie for us!”

You roll your eyes, shutting the door behind you, catching the last thing Theon says, “Look! She didn’t even deny it!”

Usually, you’d take the stairs down. Your unit is on the fifth floor (the highest of the building) so it’s not so bad. But you didn’t want to look winded before the date even starts, so the terrifyingly unreliable elevator it is.

Luckily, by the grace of the Sevens, you didn’t get stuck. So you’re a little too chipper when you find Aemond waiting at the lobby — especially since he looks so incredibly handsome in his long black wool coat, cream fisherman sweater, black fitted slacks, and a pair of black leather Chelsea boots.

Maybe it’s a trick of the light, but he seems pleasantly delighted when he sees you. Nothing overt, but it’s definitely a change from how he used to be when you got near him before. You remember always sniffing yourself when you were teens, because he acted like you had the strongest BO. You didn’t, you smelled like fresh laundry and maybe on your worst days, fresh cut grass and the sun since you spent a lot of time outdoors when at the Arryn mansion.

You walk to Aemond, and he unclasps his hands from where he held them behind his back to turn fully towards you.

As a greeting, you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck that was wrapped in a soft alpaca wool grey scarf.

You can tell Aemond is not used to physical affection by the way he stiffens against you —just like the last time. But you hold on a little longer, liking the bergamot and amberwood smell that lingers on him.

Just when you think you aren't going to get anything back, about to let him go; you feel his arms wrap around your waist. A little loose, enough that when you step back you are easily free from his hold, but it’s a start.

You beam up at him, and he holds your gaze for a bit before he looks off to the side, his cheeks a light scarlet. It’s adorable that he is so easily flustered.

He clears his throat then gives you a glance over. “You look… warm.” He gives a nod of approval. “Good.”

“But do I look…” With a mischievous smile, you poke at his stomach, “… attractive?”

His face darkens to a deeper maroon, pressing his lips together. “You’re really going to hold that over my head, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” you tell him a toothy grin. Stuffing your hands into your coat pockets, you start to slowly rock back and forth from your heels to your toes as you sing-song your own confession, “If it makes you feel better… I think you look really good today… My jaw nearly fell to the floor when I saw you.”

Aemond’s hand flies to press against his mouth, coughing into his palms. He might be choking, you have no idea. But you’re sure if he wasn’t blushing before, he would be tomato red right now.

He takes a shaky breath, regarding you as his hand falls back to his side. “How are you always this straightforward?”

You shrug with your mouth downturned. “I have no filter sometimes.”

Aemond lets out an amused huff. At least you know.

His gaze falls over you again, flickering across your features in quiet contemplation for a moment or two.

“You look lovely.”

At his soft tone, your breathing hitches and your mouth slightly parts. He tracks the slow movement, wetting his own lips.

But he does not even give you time to respond, turning to glare at the door to change the subject, “I drove here. Are you alright with taking my car or do I need Podrick to pick it up?”

“I’m not anti-car, or anything. We can drive there,” you tell him with no joking lilt or sassiness in your tone, just even. Perhaps still a bit stunned at his compliment.

“Could have fooled me,” Aemond says, chuckling lightheartedly, his fingers touching the metrocard in his pocket. It’s new. You had dragged him to the nearest bus station after his fourth time riding on one with you. You were beyond exasperated of seeing him stuff a ten or twenty dollar bill into the fare slot since he never has any change or anything smaller for the £3 fare. He has used it quite a lot already, and always only with you, realizing just then how often the two of you have been spending time together.

“Let’s go?” He asks, cocking his head to the door.

When you nod, Aemond presses his hand against the small of your back, leading you outside.

The heat of his palm has you flushing and your stomach doing somersaults, even long after he has taken it off you to hold the door open for you to get into his cream Volvo P1800 S Coupe.

You haven’t felt this nervous for a date in quite a while — and you don’t know whether that’s a good thing or bad thing yet.

Aemond has the prettiest hands.

Delicate and dainty, yet also spans big and strong. Not to mention the veins that run along his hands are mouthwateringly attractive, bulging whenever he grips the leather steering wheel.

He could be a musician if he wanted — or a hand model. You’re sure he’d have a million Twitter fan accounts dedicated to just his hands alone.

Maybe you should have let Aemond drive you around all those times he had offered.

He looks so effortlessly cool as he spins the wheel with just the palm of his hands, checks the rear view mirror, and keeps his concentration on the road.

You have not stopped staring at him.

Maybe you should stop because he is starting to notice. His gaze flickers to the side at you every so often with that usual low humming sound he makes.

In an effort to distract yourself, you lean forward to turn on the radio.

How did you make it so long without music playing in the background?

Oh right. You were too busy admiring Aemond to notice anything else.

The speaker starts blaring and it’s no surprise that Aemond’s stereo system is only of the highest quality. A sweet, melodic voice resounds in the compact space.

— say, "I'm done," but I'm still confused,

How am I supposed to close the door when I still need the closure?

And I change my mind, but it's still on you,

How am I supposed to leave you now —

Aemond is so quick to turn it off that your mouth parts slightly in mild shock.

“We’re here,” is what he says when you glance over at him, and he is pulling his car onto a parking spot beside the curb of a cobblestones sidewalk.

You let out a laugh, “Oh my god. I was about to ask what did Luvie do to you by how aggressively you turned off the radio!”

“My bad,” he says with a wan grin before getting out of his car.

He’s at your side of the car, opening the door, before you even get the seatbelt off.

��Thanks,” you say, taking his hand to step out. While Aemond pays for parking, you take a look around at where he brought you for the date.

Elation spreads through you as you take in the quaint area with the brick warehouse buildings, pretty stringed lights hanging from street lamps to street lamps, and all beautiful street art spray painted on the walls. It’s the Distillery Village, a hip part of the city just a bit a ways away from the heart of downtown Vale.

You used to love going here when you were younger. But now, not so much. It’s still beautiful there, but it has become a hot date spot for young couples over the years. And it’s not like you really had any partners that you had gotten serious enough to want to take there, less they ruin your fond memories of the place.

You remember going here a few times with the Targaryen family. You wonder if Aemond remembers that too.

“Ready?” Aemond asks, walking towards you.

Smiling, you nod, your hand reaching to catch a hold of two of his fingers.

Aemond pulls away, making your heart stutter dolefully — only for him to intertwine his fingers between yours, his hold firm yet gentle. You flutter your lashes at him, questioning, and he shrugs. “More comfortable this way.”

The two of you walk around like that, hand in hand and with a cup of coffee in the other.

(Aemond ordered for you. He has your latte order perfected now, and you have his. You had him pegged as a Sunspearino kind of guy – black with no sugar – but surprisingly, Aemond has a sweet tooth. He likes his cappuccino with two pumps of caramel.)

You are having a nice time with Aemond. Window shopping, trying out desserts from every cute spot you pass, taking time to admire all the art in the area.

Maybe it’s his hands holding yours, but your nerves eased quickly and you are back to your old self in no time.

Perhaps too comfortable. You are talking Aemond’s ear off about the fluffiness of the cream puff the two of you just had, when you realize he hasn’t said much in the past few minutes. So you abruptly stop to glance wearily towards Aemond, somewhat afraid that you are boring or annoying him with your incessant yapping, but you find his fond gaze already on you.

“I’m glad you’re back to being yourself again,” Aemond says, still leading you on the cobblestone path. “I was worried earlier. You were too quiet in the car.”

“I was nervous!” You confess a bit too shrilly.

“Oh?” The light smile that was on Aemond’s face twists into a cocky smirk. “Do I make you nervous, ____?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “ Was nervous… Past-tense, Aemond.”

The smirk is still on his lips when he replies with a playful and disbelieving mmhmm .

You turn away, laughing to yourself. You’re happy that he is joking around with you more, it makes you feel that the two of you are really starting to get closer.

You end up stopping at the busiest part of the village, where most couples and families conjugate at the plaza square, sitting on the steps that surround a huge reflecting pool. In the warmer months, the shallow pool is a pretty fountain to look at for outdoor picnics; but in the winter, it is frozen over as a skating rink.

Leaning your arms against the railing that surrounds the top of the steps, you watch the ice skaters with stars in your eyes.

You had once wanted to be a professional figure skater because of Val, the Free Folk figure skater that stole the heart of the entire nation when you were younger, when she competed and won all the singles figure skating titles during her first Harrenhal Winter Games.

Your father even paid for ice skating lessons after you begged your parents for weeks to learn. You were over the moon, telling everyone who would listen about it, about how you are going to be the next Val. Your dreams were crushed after a certain 16 year old teenage boy scoffed, “No, you won’t.’ when he overheard you telling his sister.

Remembering this, you whip your head to glare at your date.

Aemond startles at your sudden heated expression, eye widening.

“Do you… Want to go skating?” He asks, unsure.

You turn your nose up at him, grimacing. “Yes. I do.”

Now you truly remember why you didn’t become the next top figure skater and quit your lessons after the 4th class… You sucked at it.

For some reason, your body does not agree with the skates. You’re always off-kilter, that you spent the first ten minutes clutching onto the railings instead of skating.

Aemond, on the other hand, is a natural on the ice — so graceful it’s envious. If you did not know he is from the south, he would have definitely earned the title of ‘Ice Prince’ this way like some sort of Northern Royalty.

He watches as your wobbly legs try to catch up to him in mirthful silence. The bastard looks like he is going to burst out laughing at any given second.

With brows furrowed together, he asks, “Didn’t you take lessons?”

“I quit after four classes…” You tell him through clenched teeth, shaky arms out in front of you to keep your balance.

“Why?” Is the asshole’s next question.

Burning him with a glare that can rival a thousand suns, you wave your hands from your head to your waist, presenting him yourself, shaking precariously like a newborn giraffe. The motion has you slipping and hurriedly catching yourself with a choked out ‘ whoa!’ . You don’t even know how that happened — you are not even moving!

And that did it, Aemond couldn’t hold it in anymore, he laughs so hard that he is throwing his head back.

You sneer at him, and it makes him laugh more.

“I’m — I’m s– so sorry,” he tries, but he is still laughing, so it doesn’t feel very genuine to you. If you could cross your arms, you would. But that would throw you off your balance more, so you just give him a stink face, nose scrunched and mouth pursed in distaste for his lack of common courtesy.

“You’re such an as–” Suddenly, you are slipping again except you couldn’t steady yourself fast enough. But before you could hit the ground, Aemond swiftly wraps his arms around you and catches you. So easily, like he had at the party.

You straighten up quickly, still embarrassed, muttering a thank you under your breath. “You’re still an asshole though.”

Aemond licks his lips, lets out a laugh and nods briefly in acceptance. “Let me make it up to you.”

Aemond takes both your hands in his, and then carefully, he helps you get your footing right, skating backwards as he guides you along the ice. It takes a while, but you think you are getting a hang of it. It’s unbelievable but half an hour with Aemond has taught you more than those 4 lessons you took.

Soon enough, he is only holding one of your hands, skating by your side.

“I guess I’m a better ice skating teacher than you are a dancing instructor,” Aemond declares pompously.

That has you snorting in an unattractive manner. “So you admit you suck at dancing?”

Aemond huffs out a chuckle, walking right into that one.

The turns are the trickiest parts. And as soon as you saw the edge of the rink coming up, you nervously fuck up your footing. Nothing too bad since the two of you were skating at a rather slow pace, but it did cause Aemond to pick up his speed a little so he can turn for you to crash against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist.

In his warm embrace, you peer up at him under fluttering lashes. Aemond is already looking down at you with a hooded gaze. He has you feeling breathless and flushed.

You have his rapt attention when your pink tongue peeks out to lick your lips in anticipation.

You don’t notice him leaning in though, not when you feel something wet and cold touch your forehead.

Looking up, that’s when you notice it, the fluffy white snowflakes falling from the clear blue sky. It is the first snowfall of the year.

You let out an elated laugh, smiling wide, lifting a hand to catch a snowflake on your fingertips.

Aemond then gently grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing your attention back at him.

You let out a soft, little gasp.

He is staring at you like you are something so precious. There is so much fondness in his violet eye that your heart feels like it's going to burst with happiness.

Then as if in slow motion, you watch as a tiny, pretty snowflake lands on the dip of his lower lip.

You lean up to melt it against yours as well.

With a pleased hum, Aemond’s hold on your waist tightens, while his hand on your chin slides back to cradle your neck, kissing you deeper. He has your mouth parting with a moan, and his tongue slips in easily. He tastes like caramel, espresso, and vanilla; so addicting in a way that you think you can definitely get used to this.

Aemond’s mouth on yours has you lifting up your foot behind you, like you’re a princess in a cheesy romantic comedy. Embarrassingly giddy as if he is the first and only boy you had ever kissed.

And when you feel him smile against your lips, you start wishing that he’ll at least be the last.

a.t. 💗

🎵 to you · mallrat

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd smut #aemond targaryen #hotd

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scorpioriesling · 2 days

Text

Random Tropes HC (pt. 1)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Rhysand / Azriel / Cassian x reader

Warnings: slight sexual suggestions

Summary: Random tropes, and how each would play out, depending on the character... and you, of course.

SR’s Note: I saw a filter on Tik Tok talking about book tropes, and ranking your favorite to least favorite... so this idea came to mind. I am using my top 6 (not in order) for the purpose of this post -- enjoy! Part 2

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Rhysand - "Slow Burn" / "Forbidden Love"

Only he would get involved in something very dangerous, for both you and him

But, he wouldn't care. He had to have you

In this version, you'd be Tamlin's sister, and he knew how dangerous it would be to be with you

At first, you hated him (as your brother taught you) but... over time you realized how shitty your brother was and you started falling for the High Lord of the Night Court

But, like Tamlin, your stubbornness would get in the way

"Keep playing pretend all you want, princess," Gods you hated when he would see right through the walls you tried to put up. "I know it's me you think of when you're alone at night."

When you finally drop the act, Rhysand is... oh boy

"You really like making me wait, don't you?" He would say, breath hot on you ear while he ran his fingers down your arms from behind.

You couldn't even begin to explain how hard it's been to hold out, to pretend you still hate hijm even though you haven't for quite a while.

"Shhh..." He would brush a strand of hair from your face, lips grazing your jawline. "No need to explain anything. I quite enjoy looking at what's going on in that pretty little head of yours myself."

Every time, you feel like you'll fully give in...

Rhysand doesn't mind the chase.

"You know what I want..." he would say. He would always wait until you were alone together, not wanting to cause anything with his enemy.

"... when the time is right." You finish. He would start staying overnight with you, his fingers tracing up and down your thigh but never going much further.

That alone and his eyes gazing into yours as he laid with you... that could turn you to mush.

The soft kisses he'd leave on your cheekbones, toying with the tendrils of your hair...

All for it to end in the morning, him pressing a kiss to your forehead before winnowing back to the Night Court without a trace.

Cassian - "Fake Dating"

Rhysand had not only given his brother the title of War General, but had also supplied him with a second in command.

You'd been taking training lessons from Cassian in a group setting. He tried really hard to keep his attention to other participants fair, but... something about you really stuck out to him.

Maybe it was the way your braid swung when you executed a move he'd only just taught the class; maybe it was the way your leggings hugged the curve of your ass, accentuated when he would have you practice punches and kicks with the punching bag...

It wasn't just your beauty. You were smart, witty, cunning... but also a very skilled fighter.

Cassian wasn't the only one to notice either.

"As the newly appointed second in command," Rhysand said, hands folded on his desk before him. You stood next to Cassian in Rhys' office. "You will be joining Cassian on his excursions from now on." Your eyed widened, and you elbowed the gorgeous male to your right.

"He can't defend himself all alone?" You say, a smirk pulling your lips. Cassian rolls his eyes, but Rhys just stares between the two of you, grinning smugly.

"Something like that."

You got along suprisingly well with the Lord of Bloodshed; he asked for your thoughts, took your advice, and leaned on you for support when you ventured to the Continent together. You'd become... dare you say it... friends.

"Oh come on, everyone's going!" Cassian threw his hands up, still standing in your doorway. You shrugged at him.

"Yeah, but... I don't really know anyone. Besides Rhys, I mean. Even then, he is kind of my boss, so..." You say, folding clothes and putting them in drawers. Cassian plops down on your bed, and when you return for the next stack, he's looking up at you with pleading hazel eyes.

"You don't have anything else tonight, right?" He asks, grabbing a hand in yours. Cassian was very touchy, and though usually you weren't, it was something you decided to let slide.

"I mean... no..."

"Its settled. You're coming with me! I'll even fly us there, so you can wear whatever shoes you want. Don't worry about the walk." He winked and walked out, so... nonchalantly. Like he didn't just reduce you to a pile of putty with his sweet notion.

It wouldn't have mattered if you wore a potato sack, Cassian would have still stared -- but you chose a tiny black dress, and glittering silver heels instead.

His eyes roamed over you when he came to pick you up, and a small chuckle fell from his lips.

"W-wow, Y/N, you look...." He doesn't finish his sentence. You roll your eyes and blush.

"Different than usual?" You supply. He gulps and nods his head, offerring you a hand. You take it, and walk to the front patio of the House of Wind.

"Hold onto me, okay?" He says. You look into his eyes, and he grins at you. "If you get scared, tell me and I'll return us to the ground.

You snort. "Oh please, Cass, do I look like I'm afraid of anyTHING-"

In seconds, his arm has wrapped under your thighs, the other holding you close around your waist. You squeeze your eyes shut, burying your face into his chest. His teakwood scent invades your nose, and you relax a little knowing this is right where you've wanted to be for months.

When you get to Rita's -- you find that you are easily the main attraction. Not only of the Inner Circle, but the place itself. Morrigan is talking your ear off, you politely spoke to Azriel, and even Rhysand has forgone his usual formal appearance.

But, like I said... others in the bar have noticed you too.

"Heyyy baby," a man's hand braces your lower back as you stand at the bar, waiting on the two drinks you offerred to get for your new friend Mor and yourself. You turn, a look of disgust on your face.

"Eew, don't touch me." You say. He only snickers, sliding onto the seat next to you.

"Let me buy you a drink." He says. His eyes are glazed over, and you continue to stare in pure distaste.

"No thanks." You clip. He huffs a laugh and leans closer to you.

"Why not, pretty girl? I don't see anyone else up here takin' care of you." Your face heats. He isn't going to leave you alone. You look over your shoulder, hoping to spot Cassian, Morrigan, Hell, even Rhysand. But you can't see anyone.

You angrily turn back to the loser next to you. "I'll have you know, I could totally kick your ass right now if I wanted to." You sneer. He laughs out loud, scooting closer and putting a hand on your leg. You gasp. "And-"

"And what, doll?" He drawls. You fumble for words, any excuse to get this creep to leave you alone.

"And... uh... and-"

"She has a boyfriend."

You turn, feeling Cassian's large hands bracing your shoulders. You let out a sigh of relief, and shoot him a Thank the Cauldron look.

"Oh... oh Gods uh I am so sorry-" The idiot fumbles, scrambling back and out of his chair.

"Save it. Don't touch her again." Cassian glares, and the guy shoos away. When he is finally out of earshot, you turn and take Cassian's hands in yours.

"Cass, oh Gods thank you..." you say. He gives you a strained smile, eyes flicking between yours and to where your hands now held his.

"It's no problem." He said. You turned, facing the bar as two drinks were slid across it to you. Cassian grabbed them both, and followed you to the booth where his friends sat. He sat one in front of Mor, and took a sip from your straw before handing yours to you.

"Heyyy," you said. He only grinned at you, allowing you to slide into the seat before him. Rhys looked at you with a smirk, and you didn't think to hard what he was getting at because the conversations started up again. Within minutes, Cassian rested his cheek on the side of your head, arm wrapped around your waist, tracing tiny circles on your bare thigh. You sucked in a breath when you caught onto what he was doing.

"Cassie, what are you..." His hand stopped to rest on your hip, and he peered down at you.

"Dance with me?" He asked. You simply nodded, following his to the dance floor where upbeat music played. You faced him, and he once again took your hands in his, swaying with you to the beat. When a more sensual song came on, he moved your hands to his chest, and replaced his on your hips, pulling you impossibly close. With each movement, you felt your heart explode a little more; you knew you cared for him more than usual friends do. But pretending to date would only hurt in the end; you enjoyed this way too much.

"Cass, I.." You started. His left hand moved to rest atop your butt, and your breath caught in your throat. He leaned down to talk over the loud music.

"You... what, Y/N?" Ughhh. Your name sounded so good on his lips.

"I, uh... that guy. He isn't here anymore, so. We can stop pretending." You gazed up at him, his hazel eyes dark and focused on your lips.

"And what if I'm not pretending?"

Azriel - "Enemies to Lovers"

Ohhh he would want you from the get go.

In this version, you'd be Eris's full sister, and Lucien's half sibling.

"What's she doing here?" He would ask when Eris brought you with him to the meeting he was to attend with the Inner Circle.

"Trust me, I didn't want to. Beron made for her to come with me." Eris would say, not missing the glare Azriel pointed at you. You only returned the sentiment.

"What's it to you?" You asked. Azriel folded his arms across his chest, his biceps bulging from the tight black tee he wore. You couldn't help but let your eyes linger for a moment, before returning to his face when he spoke again.

"Whatever. I just don't want any other liabilities." You scoffed, beelining for the door to the meeting hall where the rest of the Inner Circle waited. Your shoulder clocked Azriel as you passed, and Eris chuckled.

"Maybe I brought her for some entertainment," he whispered lowly, following you into the meeting room. Azriel said nothing else as he trailed in last, pulling the door closed behind him.

"So whatever did you need to talk about?" Eris says, taking the seat across from Rhysand. Of course he would, leaving the last two empty chairs across from one another for you and Azriel.

"You know why I've called you here." Rhysand purrs. They begin their conversation, and you feel a tiny tickle around your wrist. You look down and see a slim, black tendril of a shadow. When you peer down at it, it seems to seize its movements. You give a small smile, and it continues its dance around your fingers.

"What has your sister said about this arrangement?" Rhys asks, making you look up. Your cheeks heat as all eyes are now on you. What was the question?

"I uh, I think whatever needs to be done is up to the better judgement of my father," you say. Rhysand's eyebrows rise, and Eris glances sidelong at you, giving you a silent confirmation. You're glad you answered somewhat correctly.

Glancing across the table, Azriel is still staring daggers into you. You shoot him a small snarl, and remember the smoky tendril winding around your knuckles. A devilish smirk takes over your lips.

You flutter your fingers, and the shadow follows your command, returning to Azriel. It drifts up his exposed forearm, and slips under his shirt. He shifts uncomfortably, glancing around and swallowing.

"It's settled then. Y/N will reside here for the time being-"

"Wait, what?" You say, realizing you've spoken in unison. Azriel is squirming in his chair, shadow still tickling him as he looks at Rhys with pleading eyes.

"Why would she need to be here?" He asks lowly. You snarl at him, crossing your arms.

"Its obviously not my first choice either, bat." You say. This time he glares back at you. "Don't worry; I won't have anything to do with you while I'm here." You finish, nose upturned as you fix your gaze on your brother beside you again. He leans over and gives your knee a squeeze, pride showing in his face.

"It's settled then." He stands, and you do the same. Eris and Rhys shake hands, and he makes to walk out the door. You trail behind him, as you hear Azriel pleading and begging Rhysand to make you go home.

"She is staying, Azriel. I've already made up my mind. This is the next best move we could make." He explains and Azriel shoves his chair in, the legs scraping on the floor. Pathetic.

"Listen, if anything happens to you here, you just give me a shout, okay? I'll come get you-" You wrap your arms around your big brother. He sighs and returns the hug. You peer over his shoulder and catch Azriel staring at you from the doorway. You snicker.

"I will be just fine, I promise." He nods, placing a hand on your arm one last time before making to leave. The rest of the members have already cleared out, leaving just you and Azriel.

He doesn't wait to pounce on you once your brother is out of earshot, but you know better. You've known better for years; Azriel is always so tempermental. So... ugh, annoying. So, hot.

"Save it Az - you cant't get rid..." You're cut off by his hand gripping your elbow, falling into darkness as he winnows you both. When you open your eyes, you realize you're in a bedroom. A big one, with cream colored drapes and sheets on the bed. You barely take in the scene around you before your hands are pinned above your head against the back of the closed bedroom door.

"Azriel." You say, tone low and menacing. He glares down at you, leaning in towards your face.

"What the hell was that?" He seethes. Your brow raises in question.

"What are you-" You breath is coming in short pants. The scent of sage and sea salt rolls off him, gently caressing your senses as you try to focus on what he asked you. You're a bit distracted, you'll admit. This golden flecked eyes, staring intensely at you. The light dusting of freckles across his sun-kissed nose. His lips that are so close to yours...

"Manipulating my own shadows. Trying to distract me duirng the meeting? What the hell was that?" He breathes. You let a small smile grace your lips. His pull back as he bares his teeth at you, and you chuckle.

"Aww, Az, it's nice to see you still brush every morning -- maybe if you smiled more-" He surges forward, crashing his lips onto yours. Your eyes blow wide in shock, his free hand grasping your hip bone and pulling you close to him. His lips feast on you hungrily, biting your lower lip as his tongue dances with yours, battling for dominance. You can't help but let out a low groan, and his grip on your wrists loosens. When he finally pulls back, gasping for air, you grin mischeviously at him.

Gotcha. Right where I wanted you.

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phantomwitch16 · 17 hours

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Recently I've been thinking about Hypnos and his position in Hades Hades 2. I've been seeing a lot of posts about him lately so I really want to talk about him cause to be honest, other than Zagreus, Hypnos is my favourite character in both games.

From what I've seen from Nyx's family, Hypnos seems to be the odd one out and too be fair, he quite literally is. Most if not all of his siblings are reclusive, quiet and don't keep in contact, similar to how it was with Nyx and Chaos. But Hypnos is the opposite, being quite sociable, talkative and wants to be around his mother and brothers as much as possible. In fact, that's possibly why he works at the house, likely to be closer to Nyx and his brothers. Which really makes sense, since out of all of his family, he never sees any of his other siblings save for their Nyx, Than and Charon and that was largely due to their obligations to the house. But despite his easy going demeanor, Hypnos is probably one of the most powerful gods in the house, save for Nyx given that he was able to put everyone in the house to fall asleep.

Which I imagine it was quite isolating to be doing his duties, especially since most of his siblings, notably Than, were off doing something else. At least with Than, he had the opportunity to see Nyx and Charon whenever he had the time. Which makes sense since other than sleep and death being two sides of the same coin, there isn't much else that keeps Hypnos connected with his family and its likely what made him want to take a job as a receptionist, despite how bored he generally is at it.

It's sad looking back on first game when he's being talked down to by Than and Nyx for having a difficult time to get the hang of doing essentially two full time jobs. Thankfully by the end of the game, he's managed to become much more capable in managing both jobs and having a better relationship with his family.

But this has made me wonder if working as the receptionist had a drastic affect on him in the second game. He's practically in a comatose state and has been like that since before Chronos attacked, since Mel was a baby and it's one of the biggest questions of the community.

I have a few ideas what could've happened to him and the possibly larger role he many have within Hades.

I haven't watch the technical test and frankly i don't want to know too much until the game comes out on the switch, but i think Hecate was down at the house was partly due to Hypnos' condition and maybe to see Mel as well. Because frankly it would be a large part of concern for everyone to come across Hypnos and being unable to wake him up. So she comes to examine him and while there, Chronos escaped, leading her to escape with Hypnos, Melinoe and the portrait.

As for what could've put Hypnos into that sleep, it could've been possible that he was doing so well before the events of the Hades 2. There could've been a large influx of souls and some additional preparation for Melinoe's birth that caused a lot of tension in the house. Or else, he received a terrible vision. In Greek Mythology, Hypnos had a great connection with handling the visions and prophecies. Mainly delivering them from Apollo or other Gods to prophets such as the Oracle of Delphi, alongside his sons. It could be possible that Hypnos received a vision from someone that influenced him to go into a deep sleep.

With him being asleep since then, it's likely that he's only been sleeping. However, it could be possible that Hypnos could be aiding those who were left behind or helping Mel and the others in the Crossroads? Such preventing other enemies to spawn alongside Chronos or putting those left behind in a deep sleep so that they won't feel pain or be controlled by the Titan.

What i find most interesting is his connection with Melinoe. From the get-go, we're already well aware that Mel looks up to Hypnos and finds him fascinating which makes sense. In mythology, Melinoe was not only had a connection to Hecate and ghosts, but one with sleep, specifically bringing about nightmares and madness.

With this connection to him, Mel could possibly interact with Hypnos in her dreams or wake him from his slumber. Or if those who were in the house were under his control, Hypnos could lull them into a sleep and Mel could wake them up by inducing a terrible nightmare that could shake off whatever control Chronos has over them.

I don't know if Hypnos might still have his old job by the end of the second game but considering with Mel could intercept dreams, I think that he would get a promotion by overseeing her duties or training her in those aspects of her abilities, probably punishing those worthy of those nightmares or aiding him in handing out prophecies.

I highly doubt that all of this would be used in the game but its a nice idea.

#hades 2 #hades game #hades melinoe #hades the game #hades nyx #hades thanatos #hades hecate #hades hypnos

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livelaughlovesubs · 2 days

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Can we have a loyal MC who after falling in love becom3 loyal all of sudden so now they wouldn't let the demons touch them? Also I wanna see it if its the seraph MC fallen in love with.(lets say this is after the christmas event + random interaction afterwards)

Ohh, so MC who fell in love with the seraphs, and now wants to stay loyal? Sounds interesting~ let’s see.. how would the demons react? Would make for a nice AU

Devils kings + the abbadon boys

Satan would be so angry with you. You fell in love with the enemies? Seriously? With those feathered bastards? That’s not all, now you suddenly want to stay chaste for them??? Why! The very first rule he taught you was to not hide your desires! Do their believe with ‘staying pure n’ innocent’ wear off at you? Besides being simply angry, he’s also frustrated. Cuz you need devil energy so that you can stay in hell, but now you don’t want to engage in sexual activities with them. He’ll definitely get mad at the angels for seducing you.

Mammon wouldn’t really mind, because you are his master. You are allowed to do whatever you want. And if it’s the angels you desire, he’ll catch them for you. Even if they are seraphim’s. It’d be a lie though to say he isn’t even slightly jealous of your object of admiration, but that’s Levi’s job, he can keep his jealousy under control. But just like Satan, he’ll get worried if your condition starts to worsen due to the lack of devil energy in your body.

Levi, like we all guessed, would be super jealous. But let me put in another aspect, he’d be disgusted. You are so defiant towards him because you fell in love with an angel…? Do you even know how insulting this is to him? Are you saying he is not better than them? Not to mention, how can anyone like those creatures! They only love god after all. He’d think you are stupid, say your feelings are disgraceful or indecent. In the end, it’s all because he’s envious of course, especially so because you are in love with his greatest enemies.

Beelzebub is more the silently judging typ, at least that’s my impression, if you get what I mean. Like he’s the kind to say, “I’m not judging but…” In other words, on first glance he’s approving of you, saying it’s your decision and he doesn’t mind, but then he’d add little comments to shake your resolve. Things like, “oh but they only love god right? Who knows if you’ll have a chance?” Or: “you want to stay pure for him? Do it if that’s what you want. Ahh, but what if your health deteriorates again? Who knows?” What a sneaky bastard huh…

Lucifer would be in shock at first. I mean.. you just told him you are in love with his brother… Then he’d ask why. Of course he’d be curious, he still cares about them a lot. Maybe don’t tell him how you two meet explicitly though. He’d admire your resolve despite the hardships, but he’d also know subconsciously that it wouldn’t work due to how stubborn his brothers are. Though, if you can change the views of the seraphim’s and make them see something other than god, he’d be really grateful to you. 100% would support you! Partly because he doesn’t know about you needing devil energy.

The Abbadon boys won’t understand you. I mean, most of the devils won’t understand you, but they wouldn’t get you the least. Because those are the guys that are sexually the most liberal. Ronove would agree partly cuz the angels are beautiful, especially their wings and he’d love to own a few. That doesn’t mean he’d stay low-key with the erotic stuff. Phenix fucks around a lot and thinks that the best, so he would think it’s a torture to try and stay loyal to only one. What a polygamist king, go for it. And dantalian wants you to take him with you to heaven if you get a chance to go there. He really wants to meet your crush! (And have him nearly kill him!)

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just-antithings · 2 days

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I just found the most absurd story on Reddit and I’m not sure if it’s true but I’m going to share it anyway haha

so I’m on Reddit to really only keep track of “The Sims 4” related stuff. I see a post of an adult who posted about having broken up with the person they were dating because… they made a Sim that was dating at least 20 different guys while trying to be famous and making enemies left and right.

The OP described this as “pretty tame” but OP’s partner was having none of it and accused them of cheating, distracting them from cheating (OP’s partner was playing a different game next to them) and that no one would make a Sim that’s basically a “whore”. OP then broke up with their partner after a yelling contest and OP’s ex went on say they were “proven right”

… my brother in Christ ITS A GAME. OP even described in the post that the Sim they created looked nothing like them, didn’t even have the same name, but even if, that’s still not an issue! It’s a simulation game and none of the characters are real

#mod erin #ask #just anti things #image #just asshole things

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skeletonsgeorg · 2 days

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What am I supposed to do If I want to talk about peace and understanding But you only understand the language of the sword? What if I want to make you understand that the path you chose leads to downfall But you only understand the language of the sword What if I want to tell you to leave me and my beloved ones in peace But you only understand the language of the sword I let the blade do the talking So my tongue shall become iron and my words the mighty roar of war Revealing my divine anger's arrow shall strike All action for the good of all, I see my reflection in your eyes But my new age has just begun, the sword is soft In the fire of the furnace, it hungers to be hit And wants to have a hundred sisters In the coldest state of their existence They may dance the maddest in the morass of the red rain Beloved brother enemy, I sing my sword song for you The lullaby of obliteration So I can wake up with a smile And bliss in my heart

"Krigsgaldr"— Heilung

#megatron #d16 #d 16 #d-16 #idw megatron #mtmte megatron #transformers idw #transformers mtmte #tf idw1 #tf mtmte #transformers #noel draws

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captainai-47 · 2 days

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Lonely Little Ember

Just a short fic of Lucifer's reaction after hearing Isa's backstory :3 Apolgies for my bad English.

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The silence that followed was deafening, unlike the pounding of his heart being twisted out his chest. Lucifer could barely muster a steady intake of breath as Isabella finishes recounting her past. The words that carried her background weighed overbearingly heavy. So heavy that he wondered how she didn't crumble from the weight of it all.

He could feel his throat close with a lump of emotions stuck in it when he sees the distant, downcasted eyes she bore at the moment. Her amber orbs empty and hollow, like the porcelain doll she described as her mother.

A mix of emotions swirled inside Lucifer, sadness and fury being the most apparent and he had to curl his fingers to keep himself grounded.

"Damn them." He thinks, enraged that was fueled by sorrow.

Damn her mother for never seeing the daughter she could be. Damn her father for treating her like a parcel to be shipped with the tag of her family name. Damn the rebels who forced her to watch her team burn in the searing embrace of the forest fire. Damn the enemies who had marred her skin with scars that rendered her nerves numb and unfeeling. Damn them all for hurting her before he came to love her yet.

So much pain lumped into one sentient spirit. Was it such a crime for her to ask of a family that would stay and accept her? To crave love? To crave belonging?

He knew what it felt like to lose a battle against something so obviously stronger. He knows of the regrets that wrapped around his heart and mind like a thorned vine. The self-blame that chained his limbs and withdraws his outstretched hands for help. He knows it so well because it's self-punishment.

And he felt helpless when he saw his lover in the same spotlight he is shining in. He felt anguish in greater heights when he saw himself in the reflection of her faraway gaze.

The worse of such comparison was at the very least, he still had his brothers. Still had some to support him during his darkest moments and fell along with him as he loses his grace and acceptance from the heavens above.

But what about her? What of the nothing she was birthed in and ended up with?

No. He'll change that. He'll be the one to challenge her lonely fate.

Lucifer tugs at her arms, feeling the uneven skin beneath his ungloved fingertips as he pulls her into a protective hold. His brows knit together with tightly closed lids, emotions getting the better of him and throwing his pride out of the window.

"I promise you.." He whispers, his fingers carding through her brown locks and dyed crimson tips while his free arm rubs against her bare back, his palms grazing over the burn that mapped the entirety of her skin behind her with a touch that was afraid he'd break a fragile glass.

"I'll never allow another fire burn you down again."

Isabella stays quiet, her mind fog taking a moment to clear up and process his words that were akin to a vow. Then, her eyes began to burn with unfamiliar tears, her breath hitching as her chest constricted painfully at the sheer relief from the comfort she longed forgotten about.

In the arms of a being that punished the damned, she finds her salvation.

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me oc #lucifer obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me one master to rule them all #mc obey me #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me fanfic #obey me angst #obey me comfort #isafer writes #obey me my mc

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blond-jerk-tourney · 3 days

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Blond Sweetheart Tourney: Round 1, Poll 2

Propaganda from submitters Under Cut

Donquixote Rosinante/Corazon

Gave his life to save a child from becoming evil like his brother and from a deadly disease

Thorfinn

(Starting season 2) He has no enemies. He reached his lowest point but he built himself up again to become his best version ever. He is an absolute dork. He's doing field work as a therapy. He's so silly. In season 3 he will adopt a baby and the baby's dog. He is my sweet farmer child and later my sweet traveling merchant child.

#blond sweetheart tourney #round 1 #donquixote rosinante #corazon #one piece #thorfinn #vinland saga

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hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha · 16 hours

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𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: 𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐎𝐂(𝐬)!

Greetings, fellers! It is I, Author Spife, and today I would like to present to you something new and interesting. That interesting something being my OCs! Fun fact: Author Spife barely has any OCs. I just don't dig them as much as others, but as my silly little post has stated, KNY is the first and only anime that has gotten me to create an OC and that's thanks to one character! Can you guess it? That's right! It's that goofy little demon, Hantengu! Anyways, this post here is the biography post of my two main OCs.

Will I ever post anything related to them again? I don't know! Am I proud to show you this? Yes! But, before we continue, I need to set up a few little warnings that will be present in their backstories.

Warnings: Murder, mentions of organised crime, mentions of abortion, brief mentioning of child murder, Pedophilia, Cannibalism, I do not proofread.

May be subjective to change depending on how many times I reread this and realise.

Thank you @georgette-mademoiselle for encouraging me to do this otherwise I likely would have forgotten and shied away from this idea.

Now, without further ado, let us begin...

𝐁𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐢

Last name: Solance

First name: Satomi Kazuyo Nagiho

Alias(es): The Queen Pin, 'Tomi (affectionately)

Birthday & place: Wednesday 17 October 1984, 2:14 AM, Sumitomo Hospital, Osaka, Japan

Gender: Female

Age: 36

Height: 1.77 m/5'8ft

Personality: Sharp-tongued, Ill-tempered, Assertive, Selfish, Greedy, Vain, Observant, Intuitive, Versatile, Analytical, Ambitious, Determined, Headstrong, Overprotective, Cold, Stoic, Strict, Merciless, Demanding, Formal, Respectful, Caring.

Physical description: Tall, Bulky (very slightly), Curvaceous, Young/Baby-faced, Back length straight silky black hair (no curls), Deep brown slanted eyes, Soft upward arched brows, plump lips, pale skin.

Attributes: A slight British twang in her accent due to having been raised in the United Kingdom for the first few years of her life.

Ethnicity: Japanese-Italian

Skills: Swordsmanship, Martial Arts (Taekwondo, Jūjutsu), Gunmanship, advanced perceptions, advanced strength, stealth, agility

Profession: Assassin, Fasionista

𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲:

Father: Fujin Jiro Kenji Solace

Age: 66

Mother: Antonella Iwa Suki Francesca Solace-Takahashi

Age: 70

Siblings: 8 (I have yet to name all of them)

4 brothers

4 sisters

Children: 1

Daughter: Akumu Ibuki Kirara Solace

Age: 12

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬:

Relationship status: ???

Ex-lover: Roman Boris Mikhail Makarov

Friendships: ???

Friendship status: ???

Enemies: 1

Former partner in crime & ex-best friend: Jeslyn Gareth Jackson

Rivals: None.

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲:

Born into rather privileged family and raised in a religious, traditional and strict household, Satomi is what one would deem as 'bratty', 'spoiled' and 'demanding'. The terms are, however, somewhat true. Satomi knew no pain or suffering in her childhood and was quite spoiled by both sides of her family, though more from her mother's side. Her father especially spoiled her rotten but was quick to teach her manners before she'd ever show informal and disrespectful behaviour. She alongside her eight siblings were all spoiled an equal amount but were also heavily disciplined. At home, they were not allowed to wear any clothes that were of western fashion, – with the exception of undergarments – only the traditional and 'normal' clothes that were of Japan. Those rules were set by their father and he was quite strict about it too. If any of them wore western clothes at home, they would immediately be sent to remove the garments.

Her father is also a firm believers of physical discipline and he made it especially clear to his sons when they got in trouble for getting into a street fight with girls. He had taught her and her siblings that they are to show respect to those older than her and speak only when spoken to. He had also taught her brothers that they must never lay finger of ill intent on a woman's head and threatened to beat them senseless if they ever did. He always reminded her and her siblings – especially her brothers – that their mother had worked nine long and hard months to bring them into this world and that he would be damned if they showed her even an ounce of disrespect. Compared to other children, Satomi was always quite different and that's due to her strict upbringing. She was never filthy, loathed the idea of a romantic partner before being an adult and was always focused on her studies while the children she knew only wanted to have 'fun' as they dubbed it.

Her siblings had a pretty good reputation at school when it came to quite literally anything which left her mother and father quite proud... except for her. Satomi was a nightmare when it came to school. She had perfect grades but her behaviour was enough to get her expelled more than four times and this is all thanks to the fights she got into. When she was fourteen, she got into a fight with three boys in the cafeteria and ended up shattering one of the boys' his jaw, gave one a concussion, and broke the last one's hand beyond repair all because they were the well-known bullies around the school and she hated that. She hated people who would bother others for their sick amusement and would always stand up for the victim if they themselves could not, thus the many fights she got into. She had a reputation for her sharp-tongue and witty remarks to both students and teachers also. She never really changed during those years and was constantly (severely) disciplined by her father. He forced her to practice with her katana until it felt like her arms would fall off and forced her to practice her martial arts.

At fifteen, she almost died because of a stab wound. She had been approached at after school hours by a boy who confessed his feelings for her and asked her out on a date. Usually, she would turn any show of affection down and very disrespectfully too. However, that day, she felt nice and saw no need to turn him down so harshly and politely declined his feelings. Unfortunately, the boy had not taken rejection as well as she thought he would. About three days later, when she was walking to the playground where she and her brothers would meet, she was approached by the same boy and two of his friends. He had threatened her to accept his feelings or he would hurt her. She of course declined and in an exceptionally rude manner before a fight broke out. The friends of his were far taller than her and easily pinned her down, however, thanks to her agility, she broke out and managed to stun him. As she about to knock him out, she was speared onto the ground by the boy she had rejected as she was then punched in her face four time in a row, busting her lips and eyebrow in the process.

She had managed to grab hold on both of his wrists but he managed to free one punched her once more, leaving her dazed for just a few moments but enough for him to grab a shattered bottle before stabbing her three times in the abdomen and once on the side of her right thigh. It was then when she realised that the boy was trying to kill her for having rejected him. She struggled hard but the pain had greatly fatigued her and left only one option and that was to scream and hope someone heard. The boy, laughed at her feeble attempts to try and escape and mocked her before calling in one of his friends to hold her down. She fought back as best as she could and screamed as loudly as she could before she was punched and silenced by the boy, who then raised the hand holding the shattered bottle, preparing to stab it into her throat before being interrupted by her four brothers. They had been waiting around the corner of the street across the playground and were headed there until one of them heard the desperate screams of their beloved baby sister. Needless to say, they beat all three boys senseless and almost ended up killing one of them while one of the brothers helped Satomi. This fight continued on for a good while before it was interrupted by their panicked father whose eyes widened at the sight.

Her brothers immediately went up to him, demanding him to call his best friend and send the boys off the be killed by the yakuza but were all quickly shut up with a cold glare from him. He said nothing and took Satomi into his arms to rush her to the hospital where she would lay for a day before getting discharged. During that entire day she was at the hospital with her worried mother, her father had brought her four brothers to his former 'workplace'. He had called up his best friend, the oyabun of the yakuza he was once associated with and had only explained that he needed to meet in person for the events that had occurred, which he was aware of by the time he called. Their meeting was about three hours long and in those hours, his friend had offered his sons a place to work if they ever needed it and that he, as his best friend, was always welcome if he ever wanted to return. The meeting was about how the boys who had ambushed her would pay dearly for having attacked her. He had requested of him to clear their tracks as they would murder the boys and their families once Satomi was out of the hospital. They ended up only killing two of the boys and their families, along with the third one. However, he ended up escaping and was never seen again.

Until, Satomi met him once at the age of twenty-one. She was walking past a café until someone had bumped hard into her and ended up spilling his entire coffee. She turned around to apologise only to be met with the same face whom she had rejected. His eyes immediately widened in fear as he quickly tried to excuse himself. Unfortunately for him, Satomi would not let him go that easily. "I have not forgotten." Were the words she whispered into his ear as she gripped his wrist tightly, preventing him from leaving. "Sleep with one eye open..." She then let go and went her way. Days later, there would be news of a man found dead in his home with no tracks leading to the murderer and leaving his case unsolved. At that point in her life, Satomi had been working as an assassin and had been making a name for herself in the fashion industry. She was an aspiring designer by day, and a ruthless killer by night.

Her job as an assassin would do her well and garner her large amounts of money as she would become increasingly popular with those looking to hire a killer. The "Queen Pin" would gain popularity on the Dark Web and would many would try to track her down and find out the who the real Queen Pin is. Fortunately for her, she had many friends around the world covering for her 24/7/365. Not to mention her family in Italy, who also partake in organised crime. Needless to say, she had everything going well for her, until her rather... unlucky day. At age twenty-four, Satomi would find herself in a nightclub at a bar, tipsy and stressed out by a mission that had gone wrong. She had failed to kill her target and now, she was on the run which is now more work for her since her client demanded her target to be taken care of. As she sat at the bar, sulking and stressing about how she was going to fix her mistake, she was approached by a particularly bodacious gentleman.

"That's odd. Usually, women as beautiful as yourself are on the dance floor showing off their dancing skills." He looked foreign yet at the same time, there were some small details about him that signified that he wasn't. Tan skin, silky shoulder length hair with side bangs, arched eyes that looked slightly slanted, not to mention that he had no accent. Foreign as he looked, nothing about him even gave away that he was except his skintone. He seemed far too educated about Japan and the way he acted was the furthest from a foreigner. That or she's just too tipsy to even notice that he was. It took Satomi a considerable amount of time to process the words he had uttered over the already blaring music until she slowly looked over to her shoulder and took in details about him before replying, slurring slightly though it was barely noticeable. "I don't dance..." The man had laughed at her response before taking a sip of his alcoholic beverage. Nothing too eventful happened except for the man bothering her and trying to make conversation. It wasn't until thirty minutes after he had made himself known that she noticed his attempts at seducing her which greatly irritated her.

Satomi tried to retreat and shrunk back, trying to get him to leave her alone. He had done nothing too inappropriate so far except his flirtatious advances. He hadn't touched or even looked anywhere he shouldn't have, he simply kept his distance. Unfortunately, Satomi made the fatal mistake of having a few drinks too many and eventually gave into his seduction. The man brought her to a love hotel and rented a room for a night before going on with her about their business. The last few thing she remembered about him were his deep, emerald green eyes, the way he stripped her of her clothes, laid her down on that bed, pushed in and took her for almost the entirety of the night. The worst part is, up until that point, she was as pure as Virgin Mother Mary. After that night, she never heard from him again, as expected from a one-night stand. While she felt disgusted with herself for having given into her lust, she moved on and continued to do her job as an assassin. It wasn't until around roughly three weeks later, after having celebrated her mother's brand and having arrived home, she began to feel nauseous as she was preparing for bed. Just as she finished brushing her teeth and drunk a cup of water, she gained the strong urge to vomit.

That night, Satomi found out that she had gotten pregnant. Days after having revealed the news to her family and being accompanied by her mother to the abortion clinic, she stressed and panicked. How was she going to do her job? How would she hide this child from the public? Her siblings had suggested an abortion and at first, the sound of being rid of this fetus that was currently ruining her life was amazing. She never wanted children. They were a nuisance. All she wanted was to get famous, get rich and do her job. However, as the days passed by and Satomi thought more of the idea about abortion, she began to dislike the idea. Ruthless as she may be, she couldn't find it in her to get rid of the thing growing in her and thus ended up keeping it. Needless to say, her decision to keep the baby would end up being one of the best and worst decisions of her life.

Satomi ended up giving birth in her own home without anyone to help her as she was being shot at. The target she had been unable to eliminate seemed to have held a grudge, and unfortunately, she had to take lives as she was giving a life. Despite all that happened, Satomi ended up with a healthy baby girl and a multitude of corpses in her home that she had massacred in pure, unadulterated rage. Unfortunately, after the events that had occurred, Satomi would be diagnosed with Mild PTSD and had to spend a few weeks after having given birth living with her parents as they helped her with taking care of her newborn while she recovered from her PTSD.

Five years later, she and her now five year old daughter would be approached by a familiar face...

𝐁𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐀𝐤𝐮𝐦𝐮

Last name: Solace

First name: Akumu Ibuki Kirara

Alias(es): 'Kumu (affectionately), Kiki (affectionately), Baby (nickname), The Queen Pin's Junior

Birthday & place: Tuesday 1 April 2008, 10:23 AM, The Solace Residence, Nagoya, Japan

Gender: Female

Age: 12

Height: 1.53 m/5'0ft

Personality: Sharp-tongued, Ill-tempered, Impatient, Assertive, Selfish, Vain, Respectful, Formal, Strict, Observant, Cold, Stoic, Demanding, Sassy, Vigilant, Witty, Ambitious, Versatile, Headstrong, Creative, Artistic, Humorous, Sadistic.

Physical description: Short, Plump, Tan-skinned, Young, Black (slightly) spikey, shoulder length hair with curly side bangs, styled into a low bun and held together with a bow, arched eyes, soft arched brows, straight nose, plump lips.

Attributes: She is always seen wearing gloves (mostly light coloured), slight British twang in her accent inherited from her mother, large tattoo(?) for the kanji "Death" etching itself onto her lower back (current status of mark: incomplete).

Ethnicity: Japanese-Italian

Skills: (Psychological) Manipulation, Necromancy, Flesh Manipulation, Biological Absorption, Unlimited Stamina & Endurance, Aura Manipulation/Paralysing Gaze, Piano skills, Dancing, Gymnastics, Writing, Gunmanship, Swordsmanship, Martial Arts (Taekwondo, Jūjutsu), Presence Cloaking.

Profession: None.

𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲:

Mother: Satomi Kazuyo Nagiho Solace

Age: 36

Father: ???

Age: ???

Siblings: None.

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬:

Relationship status: None.

Friendships: 4

Clémentine Izuki Nobuna Bachelot (Cousin)

???

Friendship status: Best friends.

Enemies: 1

???

Rivals: 1

???

𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲:

From a very young age, Akumu had been told by her mother that she is not entirely human. She herself became aware of this when she accidentally killed a squirrel by merely touching it when she was three and could see the dead (though, that had been an attribute of hers ever since she was a baby). Ever since that day on, her mother had sown her silk gloves in order to keep whatever it was that she did under control. Unlike her mother's childhood, Akumu's wasn't as happy as her mother would have preferred it to be. She had been told by her mother that ever since the day she was born, (most) people have had nothing but ill intent aimed towards her. This showed when one day, she and her mother were walking to the car after a shopping trip when her hand was suddenly severed from her wrist. Her mother had immediately sprung into a action and tried to defend the young Akumu from the perpetrator while she cried in pain. The perpetrator had claimed that "she was not meant to live" and that "she is a cursed child" before continuing to attack and harass the pair until her mother ended up killing the perpetrator in self-defence.

That example of ill intent would be when she went grocery shopping with her uncle, who was babysitting her, when she wandered off not too far away from him, attention having been caught by the many snacks on the rack. Unaware of her surroundings, she was then suddenly approached by an adult man older than fifty, who had been watching her ever since she caught his eye. He had rubbed his leg up to her and tried to converse with her until he was quickly interrupted by her uncle who had passive aggressively told him off. After she and her uncle finished their grocery shopping, her uncle picked her up and began stalking the man. "See that man, princess?" Her uncle had whispered to her softly so that only she could hear as they stalked him. "He's a bad person. A very bad person. And bad people like him deserve to die. They're your food, 'Kumu." He had explained to her as he then made eye contact with her. Her mother was unaware of the fact that her brother knew Akumu needed to feed off of humans. He had coaxed the non-human part of her out and stalked the man into an alleyway near a desolate part of the city, where he killed him and allowed Akumu to feed off of him.

Another instance was when she was three and abducted from her school to a heavily guarded warehouse, where she was trapped into a thick walled tungsten safe until her mother had saved her from her abductors and returned her home. Her mother had given the oblivious Akumu human meat to eat when she found out that blood – human blood specifically – was nutritional for her. For the next two years, Akumu would remain timid and afraid due to the early trauma she suffered until her fifth birthday. Her mother had began to teach her how to defend herself, stand up and talk back for herself, and in general trying to revert her to the Akumu she once was. Fortunately, it worked very quickly as Akumu had quickly began adapting to her new personality. The process quickened even more when her mother would bring her to work after school where Akumu would see her ruthless and strict behaviour.

Akumu had always wondered who her father was and asked her mother from time to time when or if she will ever get to see him and what he is or was like. Unfortunately, her mother was never able to provide much for her little girl due to her drunken mistake, except for some minor detail, – that being the colour green – and only told her that her meeting her father was an accident and that she had not planned to make her. She reassured Akumu that she was the best thing to ever happen to her ever since that accidental night. After that, Akumu wouldn't ask about her father for a while, until, one day, when she and her mother were going shopping for new school supplies, shoes, and fabrics for her mother to sew new clothes and likely gloves. Akumu had felt a strange presence, a signal-like feeling that had a strange pull on her and left her body tingling slightly. She looked around the enviroment and tried to spot who or what was giving off such strong signals until she made eye contact with a blue-eyed man standing in the shade that looked suspiciously similar to her. As she was about to observe the man more, her attention was quickly grabbed by her mother who led her elsewhere and walked with a sudden haste.

Akumu tried to get her mother to slow down and to tell her who she saw but she did not listen and continued her hasty pace until they both reached the car. It was when she entered the car, she realised that the man had been following them. Suddenly, she was relieved her mother hadn't listened to her and continued on until they reached the car. For an entire three weeks, Akumu doesn't feel the same signal that man had sent off, until one day or night, at 2:32 A.M in the morning, when Akumu feels the exact same signal once more...

FINALLY. I FINISHED. SO. THAT WAS IT.

I really hope you enjoyed scrolling to that absolute dictionary page worthy biography of my two silly little OCs. I might make more content of them, I might not, who knows? But until then, that's all folks!

Taglist: @hawnkoi @fallstreakfeathers @dreamcorechild @lumitylovepill @hantengus-fuckass-clones @sunbrokenswords @georgette-mademoiselle @hearts4mitsuri @star-dust-wanderer @shytastemakerthing

Note: Sorry for second tag. I noticed that not everyone's tags had worked so I decided to redo.

Divider credits:

Death Kanji

#𝕾𝖕𝖎𝖋𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 #𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer oc #kimetsu no yaiba oc #kny oc #oc lore #something new?⁉️⁉️⁉️

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lanshappycorner · 17 hours

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Hi there! I had a thought come to mind and of course it’s mashle and especially about my favorite pair of brothers, wirth and orter. Like say orter is on a mission or whatever and he gets hit with like a reverse age spell or something and he gets turned into a little kid again and everyone is trying to get to come out of hiding and they need wirth to come get him. I kind of seem him kind of as a shy or quiet kid and is kind of stranger danger, but what do you think? It can even be vice versa and wirth becomes little wirth again. I dunno it’s something floating around my head and I need a fellow mutual. (Sorry if it’s so long)

Its okay !! I love long asks just go wild with it honestly (lots of text tho so I'm making my reply small font <3)

BUT YES!! Ive been thinking abt this for a while too, I also think orter would be a pretty quiet and cautious kid !! he is smart✨ I also think that he'd be shy and sweet around ppl he's unfamiliar w (if theyre not a threat to him), but with people hes closer to he might be a bit more snarky lol

Also i imagine that wirth is actually unfamiliar with this side of him because orter wasnt rly close to him growing up, and in his teenage-adult yrs hes never been on the other side of his brother's genuine wrath so (orter's sarcasm is reserved for his best friends and enemies)💀 he interacts with baby orter and hes like what the fuck who is this (<guy who has never been sassed by his older brother once)

Also I read this ask and desperately needed to draw it so take this too (ft. kaldo)

#something i think abt a lot tho is that while wirth believes his brother doesnt understand him the reverse can also be said...#wirth doesnt know his brother well beyond what his brother shows him and his rep as a divine visionary like does he even know abt alex??#anyways what im getting at is that orter also has sides of him that he only shows his friends too and wirth has never seen it #so when he becomes a kid and shows more of his personality besides that stickler by the book and awkward side of him to wirth it shocks him #sorry for rambling i have a lot of thoughts i wish i could draw more but alas !!!#ill tag this so everyone is forced to see it #mashle #mashle magic and muscles #wirth madl #wirth mádl #orter madl #orter mádl #kaldo gehenna

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yoonivy · 2 days

Text

gold rush; part 1.

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total. So why is he starting now?

warnings. aegon + viserys + ramsay being besties. oc is a bit cringe but at least she is free :’) !!

word count. 8k+

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07

---

The days are growing chillier. The leaves on the trees are still a brilliant array of reds, oranges, and yellows; but they are starting to fall on the ground, baring the branches for the upcoming winter season.

This means that the weekly outdoor picnic at the University’s quad that you and your friends always make time for is probably going to end soon, so Sansa Stark insists for one more before the inevitable happens.

“Winter is Coming,” Sansa states with a heavy sigh and a shiver after you all helped her lay out the pastel gingham blanket on the ground that you are all sitting on now.

Meera Reed makes a face at her, snorting in disbelief. “Did you just quote your family’s motto at us? Really Sansa?”

Sansa glares her way while she starts to take the lunch she had prepared out of her favorite wicker picnic basket. She huffs before insisting, “Well it is. Winter is coming .”

“Oh, it already is coming,” Margaery Tyrell smirks, already pouring out the pre-made mimosas into four mugs. “It came plenty last night…”

“Marg!”

“What?” Margaery pouts at Sansa’s outcry of her name, feigning innocence. “I’m just saying… Stark men have quite a set of heavy b—“

“No, no,” Meera is the one to cut her off now, her palm held up to stop Margaery from finishing. “I need my appetite to eat these delicious katsu sandwiches!”

Meanwhile, Sansa is ruffling up Margaery’s perfect blowout, ordering the brunette to stop saying disgusting things about her brother, Robb, in front of her.

As you watch them, you laugh with your mouth around the rim of your mug, the taste of alcoholic, bubbly orange juice sweet on your tongue. Your friends are all ridiculous, but you love them. And perhaps, you are just as ridiculous as them. “Sansa… Is your Uncle Benjen visiting any time soon?”

“I don’t know…” Sansa eyes you suspiciously. “Why…? ”

“Cause…” There’s already a stupid smirk lifting your lips that Sansa takes a deep inhale to prepare herself. “I wanna test out Marg’s theory about Stark men and their heavy—“

You are tackled onto your back by the fiery redhead; and luckily for the both of you, you had already drunk all the mimosa in your mug before she did so. You are laughing and shrieking as Sansa shakes you by the shoulders playfully, with Meera hollering in the back and Margaery exclaiming, “Yes! That’s my girl! Daddy Benjen is so fit!”

It must have been a strange sight to see. Four women in their early twenties having a picnic in the middle of autumn, all screaming and all toppled on top of each other on the quad of the Seven Kingdom’s most prestigious post-secondary school, Vale University.

No one would dare approach that mess — unless they are brave.

Or stupid.

When a dark shadow casts over you and your friends, and someone clears their throat noisily, that is when you all pause mid-laughter to glance up at the newcomer.

Your eyes widen comically when you are faced with gorgeously long platinum silver hair; the tiniest waist made with an expensive belted black cotton trench coat; a striking violet eye; and the most disgruntled expression you’ve ever seen in your life.

Of course all that was none other than Aemond Targaryen.

So in conclusion — brave and stupid.

All four of you quickly straightened up in embarrassment but his eye was solely on you.

“Can I talk to you?” Aemond asks, head cocking to a tree nearby.

Dumbfounded, you nod slowly and stand up just as slow. But while you are in the process of doing so, he is already walking away. Shrugging at the confused looks of your friends, you jog after him.

In all honesty, you have no freaking idea why he is pulling you aside either.

When the two of you make it beside the willow tree, he turns towards you. The sourness in his face doesn’t change, and you wonder why he is even talking to you because he clearly doesn’t want to be.

In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total .

So why now?

That is when the panic start to rise in your chest, because there is only one reason he would even sought you out —

“Aemond, is your fath—“

“Are you going to the party—“

You both stop abruptly after speaking over the other.

Now you are thoroughly confused.

With your head tilting to the side, you repeat the little you heard him say, “The party?”

At the dumb look on your face, the tips of his ears start burning red. Aemond grimaces, then glares to the side as he answers, “Yeah, the Tyrell party tomorrow night. Are you invited?”

Your brows draw even closer together, staring at Aemond like he grew another head. “I mean, yeah… Margaery is one of my best friends…” Aemond then grunts in remembrance at the girl he just saw you with not even 5 seconds ago. He is still not even looking at you, so you pull at your sweater paws from the feeling of discomfort. “I’m not going though.”

Finally, his eye is on you. “Why not?”

You shrug. “I’m not really in a partying mood… Besides, all my friends have people they’re interested in that are going so I’m probably going to be the weird seventh wheel…”

What in the Seven Hells?!

You make a face at your own oversharing. Why did you just confess your loser status to Aemond Targaryen of all people? Why would he even care—

“Then come with me.”

Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh?!?!

When you realize you exclaimed that out loud and not just in your head, you slap a hand over your mouth.

His scowl makes you explain yourself in a hurry, “Sorry! It’s just we’ve never really hung out before or, like, even had a conversation until this one, so I’m a bit… confused?”

Aemond presses his pink pout together, inhaling sharply. Then he stares at you in a way that pins you to the spot, your breath catching. “You’re right…” he frowns as he trails off. “We’ve known each other for so long and yet we’ve never made an effort to become friends—“

You’ve never made an effort, I’ve at least tried, you wanted to say, but you bite your tongue and let him keep going.

“So I’d like to take you to the party to change that. Ramsay’s band is playing so it should be a… fun night.”

He says all that in the aloof yet cocksure air of his but you’re convinced that he is not even convinced himself.

Because why would being in any 10-feet vicinity close to Ramsay Bolton be any fun? Also he said he’d “like” to take you to the party and yet he looks like he is being held at gunpoint to talk to you.

Someone is definitely putting him up to this.

To put Aemond out of his misery (and to satisfy the sniper surely aiming at his head) you say, “I’ll, um… think about it then?”

Aemond hums as an answer; sounding not quite satisfied but letting it be.

And you thought that would be it. Like he’ll be like well, I tried! — shrugs shoulders and flippantly throws his hands up — oh well! but just as you say your soft goodbye and begin to walk away, Aemond calls your name.

Wait a second — he knows your name???

You balk, once again staring at him wide-eyed. This time he ignores the look, or at least doesn’t react to it outwardly, and says, “You have my number, right?”

I literally didn’t even know you even knew my name, you almost answer, but instead you went with a simple, “No.”

He lets out a discontented hmm… like somehow that was your fault. He then fishes his phone out of his pocket and then hands it to you. On the screen is the new contact section.

He didn’t even need to say anything, his domineering stare was enough for you to promptly type in your information on his phone.

When you hand it back, his thumb swiftly moves on the screen. A second later, you felt the familiar vibration of a new text in the back pocket of your jeans.

“Text me if you’re coming, I’ll pick you up,” is all Aemond says before he is already walking away and up the hill of the quad to the path leading to one of the university’s libraries.

You watch his retreating back for a minute before finally heading back to your friends.

“What was that?!” Margaery is the first of your friends to ask, but you can tell they are all piqued with interest and confusion. They know that you and Aemond go way back yet don’t have a semblance of a proper history, and that he has never sought you out like that before.

So as you stare at the text that Aemond sent you:

I hope you’ll come to the party. It’ll be nice if you do.

All you can tell your friends is:

“I honestly don’t even know.”

As soon as your last class for the day was let out at 6 PM, you book it to the nearest bus stop and luckily make it just as soon as the bus pulls up.

You would think for a busy and populated university campus, the public transportation schedule would be better. But alas, most of the students that attend Vale U are trust fund babies and have the most expensive cars and/or drivers that take them anywhere they want to go.

Not you though. You pretty much live paycheque to paycheque. Although you are lucky enough to have only one job that could sustain your living expenses.

That is where you are heading now, your part-time job at one of the homes in the #3 Wealthiest Neighborhoods of all of Westeros according to Baelish Times.

The gated neighborhood of Eyrie Heights sits on the tallest cliff in the region of the Vale. Of course since it is the home of many famous celebrities and important political figures, the nearest bus stop to the front gates of the community is a 45 minutes walk away — you make that trek back and forth at least four days every week.

You’re used to it so it’s not so bad, and the security guards at the gates are super friendly and would always drive you to your final destination in their golf cart. Today was no different, and you are dropped off at one of the many mansions in the neighborhood belonging to the governing family of the Vale, the Arryn’s.

“Thanks Grenn!” You call out after hopping off the cart and waving goodbye to your ride.

“No problem!” He waves back with a wide grin. “Say hey to Mr. T for me!”

You give him a thumbs up before turning your heels to walk up the stone pathway leading to the ivory mansion fit for a king.

It definitely is one of the most gorgeously built homes you’ve ever seen. It is an older mansion but properly maintained with the prettiest front garden and perfect shrubbery. The white bricked walls are paired with dark navy blue shingle roofing, which looks lovely during the hotter months but gorgeous when everything is blanketed with white snow. What does it for you though is the huge oval arched windows and the balconies on the second and third floors with the pillars — it was what caught your wide eyes when you first saw it eight years ago when your mother held your hand and dragged you up the same pathway you are currently walking on. Although it is an Arryn family mansion, the man living there now is the widower of an Arryn woman and he is the one you are caring for.

After you climb up the three tiers of stoned steps with the dragon statue water fountain in the center, you pick up the packages and letters at the front door that he received the past two days you haven’t checked up on him before unlocking the door with your set of keys and stepping inside.

“Viserys?” You shout out, locking the door behind you. From somewhere still on the ground floor, you hear the one you are calling for respond back, In here!

With the packages and a hefty bag you’ve pulled out from a closet near the front door, you head to where you assume ‘in here’ is.

You end up at one of the rooms in the back of the mansion. It does not even surprise you that this is where you find your patient/friend in the huge home — it is the room he is often in if he is not in his master bedroom or kitchen. The conservatory is as beautiful as every part of the house, but anyone can tell it’s the most loved. With its high windowed ceiling and the windowed walls, the brilliant sun can be clearly seen setting on purple and pink skies. But you knew that and luxurious furnishing wasn’t the reason why Viserys Targaryen favored that room so much — for every other room has the same luxury feel to it — but it is because this room is where him and his first wife would always spend time together during the first few years of their marriage before they moved back to Viserys’ ancestral home in King’s Landing.

“This room is also the only one we were allowed to spend time in while I was courting her,” you remember Viserys recalling to you and your mother one time with a hearty chuckle. He then pointed outside, where the pool is. “Her father would grill out there, pretending it’s for lunch or dinner. But he was really just keeping a close eye on me to not do anything unsavory. Aemma was always so embarrassed because she said her father didn’t even like barbecue ribs that much. ”

With a smile at that memory of his memory, looking towards the many picture frames in the room that hold weathered photos of the ethereal looking woman who still held the heart of a man even 25 years after her death.

You turn to watch that man now, hunched over beside a big and long table in the middle of the room occupied fully by miniature statues and structures to resemble the once glorious city of the now ruined Old Valyria.

Viserys is so consumed with whittling away at a block of soapstone that he did not even notice that you were already in the room.

While putting down his packages and letters on a side table near the door, you call his name again. He turns to you with a bit of a jolt, before his lips spread into a soft smile. “Sorry, my dear… I’ve just been so focused because my hands are being very agreeable today.”

You laugh, nodding in understanding while walking to where he is sitting.

“How was the commute here?” Viserys asks while you pull out what you needed in the heavy bag you put down on the ground.

You shrug nonchalantly as you wrap the blood pressure band around his arm. “Awful like always, but I’ll live.”

The balding platinum haired man frowns at that. “I really wished you’d let me hire a chauffeur for you.”

You chuckle, writing down his numbers on your phone’s notes app and moving on to test his blood sugar level. “And I told you, I spend way too much on my monthly bus pass for you to do that. Besides, I like taking public transportation—“ Viserys gives you a look. “… Sometimes.”

Once you have all of Viserys’ numbers for the day and nothing concerning pops up, you text everything to his primary nurse who visits him once a week, Samwell Tarly.

As you get a text back from Sam -– “Thank you, ____! 😀” — Visery slowly sits up and asks, “A little game of Cyvasse for old time sakes?”

You groan and frown deeply in a way that definitely shows your age of twenty-two, but you follow him anyway to the table in one of the corners of the room with the Cyvasse game on top.

Not even ten minutes later, Viserys sighs heavily as he watches you make another wrong move. Honestly, you’ve tried plenty of times to understand this board game but it is just lost on you. At this point, you are just moving pieces you think are the ugliest so they can be taken off the board quicker.

“When is your family visiting?” Visersy asks while taking out another one of your pawns, only four of your pieces left on the board versus his fifteen. “Your father is the only one that gives me a challenge in this game and I miss that — well, your father and my younger brother.”

You shrug, moving a piece that he just knocks over a second later. Honestly, he can be playing the game just as bad as you and you would be none the wiser. “Probably not anytime soon. Autumn is the busiest season at Ironrath with the ironwood and all.”

Viserys hums, winning the game. Then he looks straight at you. “You know, your mother called yesterday–”

“Ugh…” your head falls dramatically, already knowing what he is probably going to say next.

“She said you haven’t been picking up her calls and barely answering her messages.”

Yup, there it is.

You stand up, walking over to the table where you dropped off the packages and pick it up to bring to him.

“It’s not that I’ve been avoiding her. I’ve just been so busy – with classes, extracurriculars, this job…” you tell him as you hand him a package decorated with silver star stickers from his daughter Helaena at King’s Landing, a postcard from Dorne from his grandsons’ Jace and Luke who are vacationing there at the moment, and a letter from Otto Hightower — his father-in-law from his second marriage. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to call her tonight.”

“Is this job too much on top of all of your studies?” Viserys asks, full of concern. “Because—“

“No, it’s not this job,” you reassure him. “I’m just shit at time management. Sansa’s helping me out with that though.”

“Well I hope you are at least taking time for yourself. Your youth should be spent having fun and not being stressed about the future.”

Easier said than done, you think but you let him know instead, “My friends and I had a picnic today. That was fun! And—” Hold on, you just remembered something, “ I … actually got invited to a party tomorrow night… by Aemond.”

At the mention of his son, Viserys’ head tilts in confusion. “Aemond…? I didn’t know you two were friends.”

You scoff out a chuckle. “We’re not… That’s what’s weird about it.”

Viserys hums in thought for a while then smiles at you. “I think you should go to the party with him!”

You make a face and he chuckles, encouraging further, “I’m being serious! My son needs a good influence like you in his life… and under that cold exterior, I know my boy is as sweet as can be. Just give him a chance!”

Sweet is the last word you would use to describe Aemond Targaryen. Maybe agreeable would have been more suitable. But you know how much Viserys loves his family – as distant as they all may be from him – so you just let it go with a sigh.

And like you told his son earlier, you tell him the same with a tight smile, “… I’ll think about it…”

Turns out, you didn’t even need to think about it.

No. No thinking was involved.

Not when you are basically kidnapped out of your apartment. As soon as you get home from the library, you are being grabbed around the waist hauled up and out of your modest and tiny living space.

“How dare you ! You are supposed to be on my team! Team Always Stay At Home Like Gremlins!” You seethe furiously at your best friend and roommate, Jon Snow, who has a hold of your feet to stop you from kicking the man who has you on his shoulder.

“I know ! I’m sorry, but… Margaery told me to…” Jon says with a weary and apologetic smile. “And plus… Sansa’s going to the party.”

“She’s your cousin, you weirdo !” You bite back at him, and from over your shoulder you can see he is just blushing profusely, unperturbed by the accusation you threw at him. Under you, Theon Greyjoy is laughing so hard in that annoying way of his, so you warn him, “Don’t even get me started with you, buddy.”

He shuts his mouth rather quickly after that.

You are hauled into the car waiting at the front of the apartment, and when you settle in as comfortably as you could after getting tossed into the backseat by Theon, you are faced with Robb and Meera peering back at you from the front seats.

“Where’s Sansa and Marg?” You ask once the car pulls away, sandwiched between Jon and Theon.

“Oh, you know… taking a million hours to get ready,” Robb says as he turns right on a street that the robotic lady navigating him tells him to turn at — heading to Loras Tyrell’s penthouse.

You gesture down at your own outfit — a cream oversized Vale U hoodie and loose blue jeans. “And I didn’t get the same courtesy because…?”

You are not even going to mention your unstyled hair and lack of makeup.

Meera playfully rolls her eyes. “You look great… like always.”

You stick your tongue out at her while grabbing your phone out of your pocket.

To Aemond — Heeeeey! I’m coming to the party! You don’t need to pick me up, I have a ride and I’m already on my way there! — see you soon 😃 !

Then before you have a chance to put it away, you notice the little message typing bubble pop up and you wait for a few seconds, and then…

Your mouth gapes open in offense.

The asshole leaves you on read.

“Maybe he got distracted with something,” of course it’s Jon trying to reason and be practical about the whole situation, always trying to give people the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes it just sounds like he is playing devil’s advocate — like this time, since it involves Aemond “The Ice Prince” Targaryen. “Didn’t you say he was typing something before he didn’t respond at all?”

“I think he is just a right royal prick,” Robb states, which makes the girl he has his arms around giggle.

All your friends are stuffed into an elevator now heading up to the party at Margaery’s brother’s place. And instead of being excited for the night since Loras usually throws the best parties, you’re just pissed off, staring at the read receipt you’ve gotten more than 20 minutes ago.

“Thank you, Robb!” You appreciate that you at least have someone on your side on this.

“Watch though, as soon as we step inside, he’ll be a blubbering mess and he’ll tell you he couldn’t respond because the ____ ____ actually messaged him back,” Margaery predicts, somewhat jokingly.

“Now that I can’t ever see happening in a million years!” Theon snickers. “Do you see what she’s wearing?”

Gasping, you slap his arm. “You said I looked fine, you dick!”

“Meera said you looked fine, I didn’t say nor agree with anything!”

With your friends laughing at yours and Theon’s shenanigans and just when you were about to hit him again, the door of the elevator opens to the sound of smooth R&B.

“Is that…?” You trail off, listening closely when you step out the elevator. Once you recognize the artist singing live for the party guests, you hit Theon’s arm multiple times out of excitement. “GREY WORM?!”

You ignore Theon’s whining and pouting about how you are hurting him (you weren’t, he’s just being dramatic) to squeal with Sansa – who also loves the up and coming vocalist just as much as you do.

Sansa links her arm around yours and the two of you set off to the huge living area to join the crowd dancing and singing along with Grey Worm.

Margaery and Robb find the two of you later in the middle of the dancefloor, still dancing and singing your lungs out. They bring with them four little cups, and after toasting with your friends, you knock back your first shot for the night — and definitely not the last.

After Grey Worm plays his last encore song for the night, you boo lightheartedly with the crowd making the handsome Astapori laugh, promising he’ll be back in the Vale soon for a proper concert. When he steps off the “stage” (which was just a 6 inch platform) he kisses the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen and you almost want to boo seriously because how are you supposed to compete with that?!

You pout with Sansa, both your dreams dashed in an instant. As the DJ returns to her booth, the room is shaken with the loud bass of HEATED by Beyoncé – the most popular artist in all six continents of the world – you turn to Margaery to ask, “Why was Grey Worm the opening act and Ramsay’s dark-sided heavy metal band the main one for the night?”

Margaery sighs and rolls her eyes, “Well, Renly just signed Ramsay’s band to his label so my brother wanted to be the ever supportive boyfriend… I told him to switch it around but when he asked Ramsay, the manchild threw a fit…”

“Of course he did,” Sansa says, shaking her head in mild disbelief.

“Let’s stop talking about the prick and have some fun before he inevitably goes on that stage, yeah?” Robb suggests, and you all agree with him, deciding not to let Ramsay ruin your night. Maybe later, when he does start his set, you can all just head to the outdoor balcony with the pool and mini bar.

You stay dancing with your friends until the song ends before you part with them to grab yourself another drink. You were also incredibly hot, so once you were out of the crowd, you pull off your hoodie, now only wearing a white tank top – very Olivia Rodrigo chic. You toss the hoodie onto one of the couches, knowing no one here will ever steal Vale U merch (and if someone does, it’s whatever) and then you head to the bar. You take another shot while you order a peach bellini and as you wait for your drink to be made, your eyes scan the room. The party is in full swing now and there has to be more than fifty people in this room alone, so there must be plenty more in other areas of the penthouse. Just as you get your drink, you notice someone from the corner of your eyes standing against the wall by a loveseat pretty close to you.

The guy who left you on read, Aemond Targaryen.

You suppose you weren’t pissed off anymore (and perhaps Jon was right that he got distracted by something) so you decide you should at least say hi. With your drink in hand, you walk to him and you have to admit… He is looking pretty good tonight. The black silk button up shirt he has on fits so nicely against his body and it is tucked into an equally as tight leather pants that left no room to the imagination. You might have drooled a little, you’re not even going to lie.

As you approach him, his eye lands on you, taking in you in a way that makes you feel like he is devouring you whole. His mouth parts slightly while his thumb starts to skim across the rim of the glass cup of whiskey on ice he is holding. Maybe it’s the shots you’ve taken, or maybe Meera was right — maybe you do look good.

You were so distracted by how handsome he looks that you didn’t even notice the company he is with until it was too late.

“Well, well… Isn’t this a nice surprise, angel eyes?” Is what you hear when you are about to say hello to Aemond. As you grimace at the sound of his voice, Aemond looks between you and the man sitting on the couch he is beside.

Ramsay takes away the arm he has around the girl who is sitting with him to put both his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together, leaning forward to regard you closer.

“Finally ready to make nice again, sweetheart?” Ramsay asks you, that infuriating smirk on his lips.

“You two know each other?!” Aegon Targaryen — Aemond’s older brother by three years — questions like he cannot believe it to be true. You wish it wasn’t true. But sadly, it is. You went on five dates with the scumbag just last year.

“No,” you tut out at the same time Ramsay replies, “She’s my ex.”

“Ex?!” you scoff out with a laugh. “We went on, like, five dates, my dude.”

Ramsay gasps mockingly, grabbing onto his chest. “Oh sweetheart, how you wound my fragile heart. I thought what we had was special!”

You roll your eyes, but decide not to give him the satisfaction of another reply from you. So you turn to Aemond instead, throwing him a very expectant smile but you are met with a carefully neutral expression. You falter slightly under his stare, licking your lips and then pressing it together before you tell him, “Hey, uh, sorry I didn’t come here with you. I got pretty much held hostage by my friends as soon as I got home from school.”

Aemond nods slowly with a throaty hum. “It’s fine.”

Feeling several eyes on you, you mirror the bob of his head as you wait for him to say something — anything — else.

“Are you… having fun?” You ask, breaking first.

Eye still on you, Aemond shrugs nonchalantly. But after a couple of seconds, he turns his head away, looking to the side as he takes a sip of his drink, then keeps his stare at the dancing crowd as if you weren’t even standing in front of him.

You let out a humorless chuckle, trying not to feel rejected.

“Okay, then… Great talk,” you murmur, then you promptly walk away before you humiliate yourself any further.

What is his deal ?

First he invites you to this stupid party, then he leaves you on read, and now he makes you a fool in front of all his friends…

Honestly… It’s on you for expecting anything different.

Once you turn to leave, Aemond is quick to watch you walk away with an indecipherable look on his face. Never once taking his eye off you until you eventually blend into the crowd.

“Was that her?” Vis asks — a distant cousin of Aemond’s, with the same name as his dad (a Targaryen thing; after the 10th generation they just became less and less creative and started reusing the same 10 names). “Is that the girl?”

“Yesss , it issss!” Aegon answers in a sing-song, slurring his words from the many shots and bottles of beer he has downed already.

“The girl?” Ramsay questions, frowning in confusion. Meanwhile, Vis grimaces in disgust, muttering something rude about your outfit.

“The girl Aemond needs to trick into falling in love with him,” Aegon supplies, walking over to his younger brother to wrap his arm around the taller man. With his hand grasping tight on Aemond, Aegon shakes him and sharply hisses in his ear, “And you’re already fucking it up, little brother.”

With a scowl, Aemond jerks aggressively, successful with getting his brother off of him with a shrug of his shoulder and an elbow into Aegon’s stomach.

“Ooooh , ___ is the girl?” Ramsay exclaims, blue eyes lighting up with excitement at the remembrance of what they had all talked about about a week ago. “You should have told me earlier, and I wouldn’t have said all that… Now, I just reminded her of all the good times we had together–” Winking at Aemond, he finishes with, “It’s going to be tougher for you now, little Aemond.”

Aemond scoffs, eyes rolling off to the side.

Vis’ younger sister, Dany, turns to Ramsay, her thick and pretty brows drawing together in confusion. “Isn’t that the girl that blocked you on all her social media accounts?”

“Yeah,” Ramsay’s head rolls slowly from one side to the other as if saying ‘what of it?’. “Because she was so madly in love with me and was so distraught to find out she wasn’t the only girl I was dating at the time…”

At that, Aemond decides it’s time to tune Ramsay’s annoying ass out. He huffs out, finishing his drink to leave his group of… people he hangs out with, to get another at the bar.

He feels someone following behind him, but they don’t make themselves known until they are both standing by the bar.

“You’re acting like a bigger asshole than you usually are tonight,” Alys Rivers tells Aemond without any prompting after they order their drinks. Just as he was about to roll his eye for the hundredth time that evening, Alys shakes her head and holds a finger up, “ Don’t roll your eye at me… You know I’m right.”

Aemond sighs and says nothing because she is right, and so he sips on his drink instead as soon as it is slid towards him.

Alys turns her whole body towards him, direct and headstrong like always when she tells him, “How do you expect her to fall in love with you even just a little bit if you treat her like that?”

Aemond holds her gaze for only a few seconds before it drops down to the clinking of melting ice in the cup he had placed on the bar table. “This is the stupidest plan I’ve ever agreed to be a part of.”

The only person that he actually likes in his so-called friend group lets out a short chuckle, reminding him, “I’m pretty sure I told you that when Aegon first mentioned it.”

Aemond lets out a dissatisfied hum, bringing his glass up to his mouth to take another swallow.

“You know you can just… not do it. Leave the poor girl alone.”

Aemond frowns. “I’m already in it.”

Alys snorts at that. “Barely.”

Then Aemond goes quiet, deep in thought. Because once again, Alys is right. He can just back out, let Aegon do this stupid plan. Why should he waste his time on this? Waste his time with you?

But then again… He doesn’t trust his brother to do anything right. So in the end, it has to be him.

“I have to do it,” he says in a way that leaves no room for doubt. “You know what’s at stake, Alys.”

At that, Alys sighs heavily and nods in relent. “Right. Of course…” Then she offers him an encouraging smile. “At least we now know it won’t be that hard for her to fall for you… She did date Ramsay after all…”

Aemond lets out a combination of a snort and a chuckle, tipping his glass towards Alys. “You’re right.”

Her small smile spreads into a bigger one, eyes rolling teasingly. “I’m always right, Aemond. You should know that by now,” then as she clinks her glass against his, she adds, “And I have one more prediction with this idiotic plan of yours.”

Leaning on the elbow he has rested on the table, Aemond tips his head to the side and decides to humor her with a question, “And what’s that?”

With a secretive smirk, Alys brings her wine glass up to her dark red lips and says before taking a sip, “You’re going to accidentally fall for her first.”

And for the first time in forever, Aemond actually lets out an uncharacteristically loud laugh, gazing incredulously at his friend like she has gone crazy.

Because that will never, ever happen. Not in a million years.

Much to your surprise, it is Gendry Baratheon who pulls you out of your sour mood with his silly jokes and cute flirty comments.

When he asks you to dance, you glance discreetly to Sansa for permission but she is too busy canoodling with her cousin , so you look towards the next best option — Robb. The oldest Stark sibling gives you a thumbs up. Their younger sister, Arya, dated the hot architecture major but dumped him before she dropped out of uni just the previous year to travel the world and learn from experience instead of books.

You’re glad for his approval, because as you grind your hips against Gendry’s with his hands tight on your waist, you realize how much you are a sucker for pretty boys with dark hair and light eyes. That’s probably the only reason you swiped right on Ramsay.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while…” Gendry simmers, the pupils in his bright blue eyes blown with desire, pressing himself even firmer against you. Very firm indeed.

“Yeah?” You smirk with an adorable tilt of your head, threading your fingers into the hair on the nape of his neck, bringing his face down closer to yours. “And why didn’t you?”

His long dark lashes flatter, eyes roaming your face as he murmurs somewhat absentmindedly, “You really don’t know how intimidatingly gorgeous you are, do you…?”

After a gleeful giggle, you let out a soft sigh as you lean in at the same time, wanting to close the distance between your lips. But just when your mouth is about to touch Gendry’s chapped yet alluring lips, you are being yanked away from him rather harshly with a hand that had just clasped around your elbow. At the rather disorienting motion of the pull, you end up smacking face first into the chest of the person who is the culprit of the rude interruption.

The guy smells so goddamn good that you almost melt into him, until you remember why your nose is pressed onto him in the first place —

“What the heck?!” You cry out, prying yourself away from the person to glare at them. What you find is Aemond staring down at you before he glances over at the man behind you.

“It’s a bit of a bastard move to try and stick your tongue down the throat of someone else’s date, don’t you think, Baratheon?”

Both yours and Gendry’s mouth drop at Aemond’s accusatory statement.

DATE?! WHAT IS THIS SCUMBAG ON ABOUT?!

“Sorry, man… I honestly didn’t know you two were a thing…” Gendry apologizes to Aemond, then looks at you longingly before he walks away, muttering under his breath, “Seven Hells, I need another drink.”

“Wait, Gen …” you trail off when he glances at you in a way that makes you falter, shaking his head with a heavy sigh of disappointment – which you think might not be because he thinks you’re taken but because he expected better of you to not cheat on your boyfriend . You want to stop him and tell him it wasn’t true because it’s not!

“No… come back…” You cry out pathetically, reaching out dramatically but he is already too far gone. You deflate, wallowing in your sadness for a couple more seconds until your ire strikes and you glower at the reason you did not end the night with making out with one of the hottest guys at the party.

In the middle of the dancefloor, Aemond stands stiff rod straight with his hands clasped together behind his back, a shit-eating grin lifting his lips.

Bitch, you declare in your mind.

Your arms are wildly moving when you ask him incredulously, “What the hell was that?” Then quieter, you harshly whisper, “Why did you tell him I was your date?!”

“I invited you to this party, didn’t I?” Aemond questions, head cocking.

“Yeah…?”

“And you texted me you’re coming…” “You mean the text you ig–”

“So then that means you’re my date,” Aemond declares as if it’s that simple, cutting you off rudely. Then his hand clutches over his heart, pouting mockingly. “and you’ve hurt my feelings terribly by dancing with another guy.”

You might not be as sober as you thought because instead of remaining pissed off, you are actually kinda… impressed . This is the most personality you have ever seen Aemond have. A bit vindictive, sure, but at least he is not all emo sad sulking boy like you previously thought he was just.

Though… unlucky for him… you can be quite a menace yourself. And you still haven’t forgiven him for leaving you on read, making you look dumb in front of his friends, and now cockblocking you from getting a hot piece of ass— Oh boy… You are heated all over again.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Aemond,” you say with poutiest of pouts (the one you use whenever you want something to go your way. And it usually works, just ask Jon and all the times he went out to the 24 hours convenience store a few streets down at two in the morning to grab whatever you wanted) then you mirror him, grabbing at your heart.

Aemond’s eye flicker down from your begrudgingly cute face to where your hand lands, taking a sharp inhale as you squeeze your boob, before meeting your eyes again with his own wide, looking so confused at your sudden 180 — and also, why are you fondling yourself?!

“How will I ever make it up to you?”

But you give him no chance to answer because you all of the sudden perk up, clapping your hands together as you exclaim, “I know! Since you wanted to dance with me so badly—“ you titter out a quite evil-sounding giggle, “— then we’re gonna dance, baby !”

Aemond frowns, shaking his head minutely, “I didn’t—“

But you’re already dancing — and quite horribly as well. Where was the rhythm you had when you were grinding with the Baratheon bastard? Aemond wonders while watching your every uncoordinated move with an unimpressed hmm.

Little does he know, you’re dancing this bad on purpose. You can dance — maybe not as well as Meera but you can keep a rhythm. For Aemond though — your sweet, sweet date who is always so prim, proper and collected — oh how embarrassed he will be to be seen with someone who is not as perfect as him. Someone who can’t help but make a fool of herself and in turn, him , for being tied to her.

With your fists pressing against your chest and your elbows out, you start to shake your arms back and forth. You’re actually surprised Aemond is able to hold eye contact with you… Maybe you’re not doing enough? So you suppose you need to turn it up a notch.

And as if the DJ is your partner in crime, the next song she plays is absolutely perfect.

I can lick it, I can ride it while you slippin’ and slidin’..

You start with something easy, dipping your hips side to side, enough to be sensual and then—

I can do all them little tricks…

BAM!

The sprinkler! You even make the sound effect, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth to sound out the tcktcktcktck as you wave your arm above your head in a jerking motion.

And keep the dick up inside it…

You jump, landing on your feet wide apart with bent and spread knees, smacking the top of your thighs loudly. Aemond’s face remains completely unfazed even though there is an audience starting to surround the two of you now. But your gaze only on each other.

You can smack it, you can grip it…

You straighten up, turning around swiftly, slapping your butt next as you look over your shoulder at Aemond with a wink. You hear people hoot and holler — sounding a lot like Theon and Margaery.

You can go down and kiss it…

Grinning at your friend’s encouragement, you drop down—

All the way to the floor, laying on your front on the ground to wave your whole body, doing the worm so impressively and backwards instead of forward that the whole crowd cheers so loudly.

You hop up just as fast onto your feet, looking down at yourself and find you were lucky enough to not have a drip of gross wetness on you from all the drinks sloshed onto the floor throughout the night. Now that’s a miracle.

And every time he leave me ‘lone, he always tell me he miss it…

After shrugging to yourself, you make eye contact with Aemond again, stepping towards him with a sultry smirk, your fingers trailing on his body as you make your way around him, stopping behind him to breathily sing into his ear the next part…

He want a F-F-R-EEeeEee-A-K…

You suppress the giggle when you feel him shiver. Probably out of disgust and mortification — and you couldn’t be more proud of yourself.

You move again, to complete your circling around him, finally almost in front of him again—

F-F-R-Eee—-

“—EEP!”

That was you, bleeting louder than the music, all because you were suddenly grabbed by the waist and dipped down low by none other than Aemond Targaryen.

The crowd goes wild, thinking that what is happening in front of them is a risqué kiss between the Ice Prince and the weird dancing girl. But it is not that all, because what Aemond’s pretty long hair has hidden from view of prying eyes is not a stolen kiss, but it’s his burning gaze on you as he growls a little too ferally, “You think you’re real cute, don’t you, love?”

As he impressively keeps the two of you in that position, his arm solidly around your waist and his other hand cupping the back of your head so gently, you can’t help but really look at him for the first time in your life. It’s hard to deny it, but he really is so easy on the eye. The slope of his nose is enviously perfect, his violet eye the brightest and most vibrant out of all his family, and…

Though he did not move one inch during your dance for him, Aemond is breathing quite as heavily as you are. The puff of his hot breath on your mouth has you looking down, and his eye follows where you look.

Aemond’s lips… They look so soft and the shape of them so sharp at the edges… You kind of want a feel of them against yours. Just to see…

His tongue peeks out, wetting his mouth, and you blink slow in rapt attention. Once he is done, you flutter your lashes, glancing back up to meet his gaze from beneath them.

He is too undeniably pretty, it’s unfair!

If Aemond is moving closer towards you, you don’t notice. Your nerves are getting the better of you, all thoughts have gone out the window.

And that is why you so suddenly blurt out with a crooked smile, “So… ya like jazz?”

Aemond’s features twist into one of confusion before he starts to laugh as he pulls the both of you up to stand. The crowd has disappeared, onto the next big thing — a fight that broke out in the kitchen. But you and Aemond stay, with also a few stragglers still dancing.

You burn with embarrassment. This is Jon’s fault! He’s the one who suggested to watch The Bee Movie last night. And you know what’s also his fault? The reason you were born in the first place! If his mom — your god mother Lyanna, and also your mom’s best friend — hadn’t gotten knocked up by her summer fling, your mother wouldn’t have begged your dad to start a family so quickly because they’ve always wanted to have their kids grow up together.

While you make threats at Jon Snow in your head — promising he will rue the day he was born — Aemond is still laughing, telling you, “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

You take a chance to glance sideways at him….

The smile that lights up Aemond’s face is so gorgeous and glorious that your mouth parts in awe and your heartbeat starts to race.

As you continue to openly stare now, it dawns on you that this is the first you’ve seen Aemond with such a genuine smile. The others were either snarky smirks or put on to appease whoever he was speaking to.

You can’t believe he has been hiding this from the world.

“Wow… You should smile more often,” you murmur without really thinking about it. “It looks nice on you.”

His face flattens as soon as the words leave you, pink blushing his cheeks and his ears as he swiftly turns on his heels to walk away. You don’t allow him to get far, grabbing onto his hand to pull him back towards you, whining out with laughter, “Noooo … don’t be embarrassed! I’ll shut up!”

After heaving the most exhausted sigh you’ve ever heard, Aemond turns back around to face you. You flutter your lashes at him to seem innocent, an overly optimistic smile rounding your cheeks adorably.

“Do you want to dance?” You ask him. “Like, for real this time?”

While he eyes you warily, Aemond finds himself nodding slowly. At his acceptance, you let out a goblin like giggle of heh heh heh while you take his other hand, both of his in both of yours.

You start to move, encouraging him to do so too with the bobbing of your head in time with the beat of the music. Clearing his throat, Aemond begins to move as well… And you don’t know how but… He makes the simplest move of swaying side to side look so… painful.

“Oh, okay, wow…” You mutter, head tilting while looking down at his feet. “… Not the best footwork…”

“I thought you said you’ll shut up?” Aemond snaps with a fierce glare your way. You manage to suppress another laugh, tightly pressing your lips together to motion a pretend zipper closing across the seam of it with your fingers before lacing your hand with his again.

You spend the next half hour teaching him how to dance. It wasn’t particularly successful, but at least you had fun!

You think Aemond did too.

He smiled and laughed more times than you can count with both your hands.

And like you told him earlier, it looks nice on him.

Aemond drives you home before Ramsay’s band starts their set. Not because you didn’t want to watch them (which you didn’t, but that’s besides the point) but because the worm you did actually hurt your back a little, the pain didn’t start until later.

So as you lay in your bed, you make a note to yourself: never do the worm again.

Scratch that.

Never do the worm again drunk.

Come on! You can’t completely forego a classic!

Growing more tired, you check your phone one last time. Shooting your friends messages to get home safe and also to Jon — please pick me up some pain killers 🥺.

Then for some reason the last message conversation you open up is the one with the newest contact on your phone.

It’s barely a conversation , you think to yourself as you stare at the glaring read receipt. And yet that doesn’t stop you from double texting.

To Aemond — I had fun with you tonight ☺️

You turn to your side just as the all too familiar ‘…’ bubble from his side of the conversation pops up. You frown at your phone; waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and…

Your eyes light up, grinning wide with an overjoyed giggle.

Because Aemond didn’t leave you hanging this time. Not at all.

From Aemond — I had fun with you as well. — Have a good night. — Rest well and take a Poppyvil for your back. — If it gets worse tomorrow, let me know.

You send him back an ‘I will 🤠’ before you begin to drift off to sleep, your phone pressed to your chest and a smile on your face put on there by the last person you would ever expect to — Aemond Targaryen.

untitled playlist 🎵 nothing else i could do · ella jane

author’s note: i hope you guys enjoy the first part of this story :)!! i’m so so excited for the rest!! the song that will be at the end of every chapter (or maybe scattered throughout the fic, i’m not sure yet lol) is a song that the oc puts in a playlist that she unknowingly makes with aemond in mind hehe.

let me know what you think!! feedback keeps us writers motivated :)!!

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd smut #aemond targaryen #hotd

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