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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 4 months

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concert, part 1

part 1 here (cw: age gap)

👑 (king): can I come pick you up? Me: yeah, sure, I’m almost ready 👑 (king): good, be there in 10

I look down at his text, smiling to myself, then I get myself ready. Checking my makeup, checking if I have everything in my little bag. Then I wait for him, nervously tapping my foot, thinking about our interactions over the last week.

I haven't seen him since the bar, we've just been texting and my god. He isn’t the biggest texter, but he never fails to answer a single one of my messages. Setting a new standard for sure.

My first message he answered within five minutes, making it a deal and asking me for the details on the concert. And then I had to send him all of my favourite songs, not just by Lorna Shore, but all the bands I talked about that he didn’t yet know. We were just talking about all the topics we could think about.

Like I wanted to know what accent it was that laced through his words when talking English and he told me that he actually was from Austria. I’ve never met someone who was from this country, so naturally I was curious. Especially why he lived here then and didn’t go back to Austria for his leave, which he just answered with a simple “I don’t have anything to go back to.” I didn’t want to pry, so I left it at that.

And he asked me what I did for a living and all my little hobbies. I could talk about those all day long, so there was a lot of back and forth (maybe a little bit more back from me than it was forth from him). I still was curious about his job as well, but I was too afraid to be called nosy again.

By the third day I got confident enough to accompany my messages with pictures. And no, not that kind of pictures. I just snap moments during my day and just them to him. My morning coffee, some scenery from my commute, a screengrab from the game I’m playing in the evening. Because I want to show what’s going on during my day.

It’s nice. It feels nice to talk to him. And we’re still kind of shy, holding back, but some of the texts even get flirty. My favourite thing to do during last week was to call him old every chance I got. Just to get a rise out of him.

I can’t help but feel that the last message has a double entendre. Like I should be the one worrying about keeping up. With him.

The doorbell rings and I go to open my door. It swings open and I almost rear back when his hulking figure towers over me. My god, I have forgotten how huge he is. I mean, I only saw it once when he got up from the table.

He's wearing the same worn leatherjacket and a shirt underneath. A Lorna Shore shirt. He got it right on time for the concert. I know because he sent me a picture when the package arrived.

"Hi.", I say looking up at him.

"Hi yourself.", he answers with a smile. "Looking good."

"Thanks.", I say as I do a little twirl for him, my skirt swaying while I do the turn. When I land on my two feet again, my DocMartens stomping onto the floor, I see his gaze wander up my body.

His lids are hooded, his mouth is slightly opened and I can see the row of strong teeth blink through. Our eyes meet and I feel a zap of excitement running down my spine. It just got harder to breathe. Because he looks at me like I would taste good. It’s actually making me a bit nervous. And I don’t think anybody ever looked at me like that.

“What?”, I throw in his direction, swaying from one foot to the other.

"Nothing…” is all he says, shaking his head. But it doesn’t feel like nothing. “Come on, let's get going. You have the tickets?", he asks.

I point at the little bag clasped to my belt. "Got everything in here." He nods and gestures me to exit the flat. I do so and lock the door behind me, following him down to the street where his car is parked.

It’s a Mercedes G-wagon. A fucking G-wagon. I don’t know which car I suspected, but I guess not this one. Although it makes sense when I see him right next to it. The kind of military look of the car, the colour (black, of course), it being quite an expensive brand, but also an older model, judging from the wear on the outside. Also a spacious enough car for a big man like him.

He stops at the passenger side and opens the door for me. And I can't help but melt a little. The gentlemanly gesture with him looking just like he looks. The big stature, the worn leatherjacket with the tattooed hands showing, the slight aura of danger around him that makes much more sense since I know he’s a soldier, that part of him not fully vanishing even when he’s on leave. The timid smile he gives me when I thank him for holding the door open for me emphasizing the contrast between his hard looking exterior and the softer core.

He waits for me to climb up into the seat, shutting the door for me and going around the car, to the driver's side. I snuggle into the leather of the car seat and look around a bit. His scent engulfs me, a warm, manly note, and I suppress a sigh. This man is just too much, and I'm going to a concert with him.

He gets in and starts the car which also turns on the sound system and a flurry of guitar sounds, drums and the distinguished voice of Chuck Schuldiner blasts from the speakers. I recognize the song instantly. "Oh, I love Spirit Crusher. The whole album actually."

He grins at me. "I thought so, that's why I put it on." He hands me the CD sleeve. "I bought this when I was like... maybe 16 or 17?"

"Oh my god, really?", I exclaim, inspecting the case. I turn to him pointing at the release date on the back, a mischievous grin forming on my lips. "That's the year I was born."

He sighs and rolls his eyes, snatching the CD case from me. "Yeah, yeah, we've already established that I'm old, ancient even." I bite back a laugh, doing a bad job at it. He leans forward, inching closer to my face. “Now what’s so funny, huh?”

I shake my head still grinning. “Nothing.” I pause for effect. “Old man.”, I add teasingly.

His gaze is burning into me. “Uh-huh, ain’t that right.” The slightly threatening undertone is not lost on me and it makes me shift in my seat.

He doesn’t say anything else, just pulls out of the parking space, and drives us to the concert location. The atmosphere gets a little bit more relaxed when he asks me about how work has been today (because we haven’t texted about that yet). I go on a rant because work really has been kicking my ass lately and my boss keeps getting on my nerves. So the car ride to the venue is filled with me explaining all of the details of what’s going on which would’ve have been too much to type out.

I’m still complaining about my boss’s antics when we enter the tall concert building. I show our tickets to the security guys at the entrance and they check us for stuff that you can’t bring into the venue. Well, they check me without hesitation, the security lady patting me down and taking a look into the little bag I have with me.

The security guy that has the pleasure of checking him hesitates for more than just a bit and I can see the little grin on König’s face as he’s towering over him, almost a head taller, and looking the most intimidating I’ve seen him yet.

“Don’t worry, he doesn't bite.”, I joke with the security guard who rolls his eyes, but finally goes to pat down the big guy.

König’s grin turns mischievous, looking down at him while he’s being checked. “Only if asked to.”, he says, glancing at me. And then he fucking winks. And I almost trip over my own feet. I steady myself, going down the stairs, taking a deep breath to calm myself down. Because that planted an image in my head I wasn’t ready for.

He catches up to me. “I’ll drop my jacket off and then we can get a beer?”, he suggests and I nod, following his lead. His hand drops to the small of my back, guiding me as we maneuver through the crowds of people. And I try to ignore how this light touch is making me feel.

We get in line at the bar and something I wanted to talk to him about burns at the tip of my tongue. Especially now that I’ve seen the expression on his face when somebody pushes past me, accidently brushing against me.

“Can you promise me something?”, I ask, putting on my nicest face to heighten the chances of him agreeing to it.

His lips curl into a sly smile when he sees the way I’m looking at him. “That depends on what you want me to promise.”

“Please don't stomp on any of the people if they bump into me.”, I tell him.

“Hm, I don't know if I can promise that.”, he answers with an honest tone in his voice, but the mischief in his eyes is telling a different story. “I have to look out for my concert companion, don’t I?”

“Well, can you at least leave them in one piece? I wanna leave the concert a free woman and not an accomplice to murder.”, I explain, not even taking myself seriously.

He laughs. “I think, we can arrange that.” He playfully nudges me with his arm and I almost topple over because I didn’t expect that. An “Oh shit” drops from his lips while his hands reach for my waist to steady me, and my first reaction is to hold onto him. His arm to be exact. My fingers grab onto his lower arms and I can feel the strong cords of muscle beneath my fingertips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“, he says.

I shake my head, interrupting him. “Don’t apologize, it takes more to break me.” Which sounds completely wrong and dirty in my mind, now that I think about it. But the sentence already left my lips. He doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his heated gaze on me, even when I don’t look up at him, still holding onto his arm when we reach the front of the line. Ordering beers that he pays for, just like we agreed to. I snatch up the two glasses and head to a quieter corner.

König isn't a big talker, although he seems more relaxed now, so it's still mostly me yapping about stuff that comes to my mind while we wait for the concert to start, him asking questions in between, nodding along, listening, and sipping his beer.

"I'm sorry, I feel like I’m talking too much.", I finally interrupt myself, smiling up at him apologetically.

He shakes his head. "No, it's fine, don't worry about it. I like hearing you talk." And his words make me blush and actually shut up for a brief moment where I can just smile into my beer and bask in the compliment.

“I think they’re starting soon, you want to go in?”, he asks me, smiling down at me.

“Yes, we can do that.”, I nod and we make our way into the hall. It’s already packed, but with König it’s easy because the crowd parts, looking up at the tall man when he passes. We find a spot that’s more in the back of the room, so he doesn’t obstruct the view of too many people.

I stand right in front of him, looking up at him, to see him scanning the people around us, observing every little bit that’s going on. His arm wraps around my waist, in theory a small little gesture. But his touch makes me light up, his fingertips softly digging into my hips. His fingers stroking ever so slightly, skimming over the fabric of my skirt, seemingly not even thinking about it. And I take the chance to lean myself against him, feigning the same innocence as he does.

Suddenly, the symphonic part of 'Welcome Back, O’ Sleeping Dreamer' starts playing over the speaker and the concert begins. I smile up at him and jump up and down all excited, pulling at his shirt to get his reaction. He laughs, even though I don’t hear the sound because the whole room erupts in cheers and shouts, only getting louder when the band comes on stage and the drums and guitars set in.

I get the impression that he’s enjoying it as well and the smile on my face gets even wider when he starts headbanging with the crowd. And it makes me happy to see him like that. The music sweeps me up and carries me away and I start to move with the harsh sounds blasting from the speakers.

What I don't know or see is the way he's looking at me when I scream the lyrics from the top of my lungs. How mesmerized he seems when I jump and mosh to the next song, dancing without a care in the world. How my wild and energetic euphoria of being at a concert infects him, even if he's still being a bit self-conscious.

It's been a long time since he actually has been to a concert. And he hasn't been all too sure why he even offered to go with me other than seizing the opportunity to see me again. But right now, standing in the crowd experiencing the thrill of live music once again, he remembers why he enjoyed it so much when he was younger.

to be continued - the concert is not over yet!

part 3 or more stuff in the Masterlist

#metalhead!könig #she likes the dark #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #könig x reader #tw: age gap

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strawberrysodaslut · 2 years

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STEVE HARRINGTON IS THE PUSSY WORSHIPING KING! he will have you sit on his face for hours just to see how many times he can get you to cum. HE’LL CUM UNTOUCHED TOO, he could just from the taste of you🙏🏾🙏🏾

Take Your Seat - Steve Harrington x Reader

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

[ Steve Harrington Masterlist ]

[ Main Masterlist ]

❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

summary: Steve’s favourite hobby is eating you out, so when the two of you try a new method, he enjoys it a little too much

warnings: SMUTTT, face sitting, oral (male and fem receiving) implied non protected sex, slight knife kink, cumming in pants, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

a/n: this is the truest statement ever sorry science this is the truth. this was meant to be a blurb but i got carried away 💀

edit: as someone has mentioned in my asks, this fic was HEAVILY inspired by ‘ruin the friendship’ by ethotlliot on wattpad, i didn’t even realise how similar they were until i reread both works, and it’s ridiculously similar. so i’ve edited it to fix those parts and also want to give HUGE credit to ethotlliot on wattpad, their work is no longer available on there but you can read their work on ao3

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❛ ━━━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫･━━━━━━━━━ ❜

Steve would take any opportunity to eat you out. At one point it seemed that any time you were alone would be spent with his head between your thighs, lapping you up like your his fucking life source.

The first time he suggested you sitting on his face, you were really apprehensive. Not because you didn’t want to- god you did, but you were scared of crushing him.

“Baby, you won’t crush me I promise.” He says, pressing a kiss to your lips. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to. But if it’s because you’re scared of hurting me I promise you have nothing to worry about.”

You smile, looking down to hide the redness of your face. But his face follows you down, looking up at you, “How we feeling?”

Steve chuckles as you sit up, you move to straddle his hips. His hands immediately grip your waist, strolling circles with his thumb. The two of you meet for a kiss. The kiss is slow, tender. You brush your hands through his hair, just toying with the strands.

He pulls back from the kiss, “Yes or no, baby?” He says, bumping his nose into yours as the two of you catch your breath.

The two of you have always had a system when giving head, a way to tap out. If you were hurting him, surely he would let you know. There’s no harm in trying if you both want it, right?

A whimper escapes you, “Yes, please” you say, making it official.

He spurs into motion, unzipping your jeans as you help him shimmy you out of them, you’re about to pull down your panties when he stops you.

He reaches down his pocket, pulling out a plastic object, when he flips it up, you can see it’s a pocket knife. He moves the knife to the waistband of your panties before looking at you and raising his eyebrows, looking for permission.

You lightly nod, and he lifts your waistband at your right hip, cutting through it, quickly doing the same with the left side. He tosses the panties and the knife away, sending you a wink as he does so.

He moves to lie down on his back, “Come take your seat.” He says, the smirk still stretched across his face.

You giggle, moving up his body to hover above his face. The nerves come back as you realise the gravity of the situation- quite literally. What if you hurt him? What if you’re heavier than he expected and he judges you.

Before you can second guess yourself any further, Steve’s arms wrap around your thighs and he pulls you down onto his mouth.

You moan at the feeling of his mouth on your heat. It’s much harsher than when he would normally give head, but in the best way.

He grips your hips to roll you down onto his face, you let out a near phonographic moan, “Fuck, Steve.” You say, grinding down to ride his mouth.

You grip down on his hair, and he moans, sending vibrations up your body. His tongue moves to circle your clit, finding a steady rhythm and sticking to it.

His pace is demanding, rough, dragging you to your high at an alarming rate. “Steve,” you moan out, “you keep doing that and I’m gonna cum.”

You feel vibrations going up your body as he tries to reply, but his voice is muffled from your cunt. You sit up on your knees, “What?”

He huffs a laugh, “I said, that’s kind of the point.” He chuckles, “Now get back down here.” He says, pulling you back down.

You relax in his grip, your anxieties about hurting him washing away. You can quickly feel your high approaching more and more, your hips stuttering where they sit.

“So close…” You whimper, reaching for anything to grip on to stop yourself from tumbling forward. “Please don’t stop…” You beg.

The vibrations are getting more frequent, Steve’s muffled moans so strong you’d think that he was the one getting head.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you reach your high, your hips involuntarily grinding down onto his face. Just as you felt the pleasure move into overstimulation, you try to get off.

But Steve persists, gripping your hips to roll you further down. You whine, the sensitivity overtaking you. He always does this, loving the sight of you writhing and twitching and the sound of you whining.

The burn of of the overstimulation fades back into building pleasure. This was his favourite part about you, that once he made you cum he could get another million out of you before his lunch break ended.

“Fuck,” You moan as you stutter into your second orgasm. You feel Steve’s moans get more intense below you, growing and growing as he gets you through your orgasm.

This time, you don’t let him continue through the overstimulation, tapping out on his head, he relents his assault on your pussy, watching you move off of him with the biggest smirk on his face.

As you sit, you can feel the wet underneath you, but it’s not your own, it’s in his shorts… oh.

To prove your theory, you roll your hips down and he moans out, gripping your hips to still you. His face goes red, and you raise your eyebrows, “I’m- I’m so sorry, shit. I didn’t mean to, it’s just- you’re so fucking hot and-“

You cut him off, leaning down to meet his lips in a kiss, you lightly roll your hips against his. He moans into the kiss, bucking his hips up to match your grinds.

You pull back, moving down to sit on his thigh, “Its okay. It’s honestly really fucking hot.” You say, pushing your hand down his boxers and wrapping your hands around his cock, using his cum as a lube. It’s almost completely soft now, but it twitches in your hand.

He moans, bucking his hips into your hand, “It is?” He asks.

You nod, moving to pull his boxers down his legs, you lean down and kiss the tip. “Yeah, seeing how turned on you get,” press a kiss down his shaft, “just from pleasing me,” you kiss further down, “how could that be anything but hot?”

You guide his slowly hardening cock to your mouth, swallowing around it. He moans, “Fuck- baby” He says.

It doesn’t take long for his cock to harden in your mouth, but before you can continue, he pulls you off of his. You sit up, brows furrowed.

Before you can ask, he flips the two of you over, your back on the now messed up sheets of his bed.

“Gotta cum in you baby, yeah?” He asks, waiting for permission as he swipes his cock up and down your slit. You nod, and he smiles, “Good girl.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things spoilers #stranger things s 4 #steve harrington headcannons #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic

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cheriedarliingz · 4 days

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i love being cared for and spoiled just as much as the next lesbian, but it's so important to do the same for the other person in the relationship.

helping them out when they've had a bad day, give them a shoulder to cry on or a neck to hide their face in, reassure them that they'll be ok no matter how much the world feels like it's crashing down on just them and them alone. or if they're not that much into physical touch, just lending an ear helps. even if you can't give them great advice, just being there and letting them get their bad day off their chest says a lot, and it means even more. and some people don't like to talk about their bad days. that's ok too. sometimes it's just space that they need but sometimes they just need to be distracted from their bad day. indulge in some of their favorite hobbies with them, watch a comfort show/movie of their's, cook them their favorite meal.

remembering the little things and doing them just because. adding in small details that you've remembered they hold so dear to their heart for whatever reason. it always feels good to know you're actually being listened to.

can we pls normalize femmes paying for stuff? just a little bit???? please queens/kings????? listen guys, i'm not complaining if you want to take care of me financially, i am a broke bitch! but WHEN i do have money, (not very often😞) at least let me buy you some ice cream with it or SOMETHIN'- PLEASE! i know ice cream isn't a super big responsibility but it's always felt weird to me seeing the relationship dynamic where one person supports themselves and their partner financially, and the partner doesn't even reciprocate it occasionally???? THIS IS NOT ME DEMONIZING THIS LIL DYNAMIC OR WTV, i just personally do not vibe with it. but do whatever makes you happy, bbgs. i know there are other ways of taking care of someone other than supporting them financially but i'd love to even be able to do it just once in a while, if not all the time. (all the time is not likely bcs once again i can't save money for shit....)

i know i mentioned this for like five seconds in my first or second lil paragraph but cooking is such a reassuring thing to do. cooking someone their favourite meal or just any meal is a love language that we look past too often and i am sick of it!!!!! (this is coming from someone who tried to make homeade hamburger helper with burrito beef two nights ago btw... don't look at me.) it's such a quiet way of love admittance. but then genuineness is there and it's abundant. mostly if your partner is of culture, i bet that would be an amazing and quite heartwarming surprise for them to see. (meow:3)

i could go on and on and on about reciprocity but it's 2am and i don't feel like writing anymore...

⁻ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵖᵒˢᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ᵃ ᵐᶦⁿᵒʳ, ᵐᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵈⁿᶦ ᵃᶜᶜˢ ᵈⁿᶦᵎ

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humanpurposes · 11 months

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My Heart Belongs to Daddy, part v, modern!Aemond

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // She's the first one that I see

modern!Aemond x step-daughter

Warnings: 18+, smut, language, questionable relationships, you know the drill, also mentions of terminal illness.

Words: 9300

A/n: Aemond's pov here we gooo. This part gets its own header coz vibes. Also available to read on AO3.

Another summer brought another two months at Dragonstone.

The relief Aemond felt clambering out of his mother’s Volvo and into the coastal breeze was immeasurable. Helaena got the front seat, as always, which left the three boys to be packed into the backseat for two hours, in the middle of a June heatwave.

He somewhat resented Daemon and Laena’s absence this year. Generally they alternated summers between Dragonstone and Pentos with the Velaryons. It was a shame, his uncle often brought some much needed tension to family holidays, the entertaining kind as opposed to the depressing kind, and Baela and Rhaena were by far the most tolerable of the younger family members.

Viserys hadn’t arrived yet. He had some work things to catch up on and would drive down later, which just left the Strongs. Alicent had received a call from Rhaenyra while they were in the car to say they’d be a few hours behind them. Thank the Gods. At least it gave them a few hours of peace.

Dragonstone had originally been built as a castle, preserved over the centuries as a place for pleasure rather than a defensive keep. It had a gatehouse, turrets, arrowslits, parapets and ivy sprawling over the outer walls that turned red in the autumn. It looked idyllic, like a castle out of a fairytale.

After bringing his bag up to his room there was only one place Aemond wanted to be.

His favourite part of coming back to Dragonstone were the gardens, sprawling walks of greenery, sweet-smelling rose bushes and sandstone archways. If the weather was right, he could convince himself he was in some remote corner of an Italian manor house.

One of the gravel paths led down to the pool, overlooked by a patio from the back of the main house. It was a blissful little oasis, when he could have it to himself, of crystal clear water, tall hedges and blue and orange tiles laid out in intricate patterns.

He had his trunks on already and left his t-shirt and shorts on a sun lounger before he slipped into the water. The cold was a welcome reprieve, especially when he dunked his head under and pushed off from the side, cutting through the water with powerful strokes.

It had been a while since he’d had time for swimming and he felt slightly irritated at the ache in his arms from the unfamiliar movements. To be fair to himself, he hadn’t made time for any hobbies over the last few weeks on account of his exams, and it had paid off at least. He still had a few weeks until he would get his results but he knew he would do well.

As far as he was concerned, his future was set. He would get four A*s, then in September he’d be off to Oldtown to start university. In three years, he would graduate with a first and come back to King’s Landing to start at Targ Corp, despite his grandfather’s attempts to convince him to consider a career at Beacon, the Hightower family business. Otto had a vision that one day, his grandsons would run two of the largest companies in Westeros, Aegon at Targ Corp and Aemond at Beacon.

Although the offer of a generous salary and an internship during his studies had sounded tempting, it was a question of pride more than anything. The silver hair should have been evidence enough; Aemond was a Targaryen before he was a Hightower.

Despite his determination to live up to the family name, he had come to resent these summers at their ancestral home. The house and the gardens were beautiful, and he loved being so close to the isolated beach below the hill the house was set on, but he could think of no worse fate than having to spend ten weeks with his insufferable sister, their father’s pride and joy, her idiotic husband and their three sons.

He ran his hands over his face as he emerged on the other side of the pool, his left palm skimming over the scar on the side of his face. It was easy to forget it was there sometimes, until he’d catch someone frowning at it.

Rhaenyra was lucky his mother hadn’t pressed charges and publically issued a statement that the whole thing had been a “tragic accident”. Later he learnt Alicent had been holding it over Rhaenyra’s head ever since, waiting for a time when she’d need the leverage.

Ten weeks with the Strongs was all that stood between him and the rest of his life, some sick test of patience.

He wasn’t alone for long before he spotted Aegon and Daeron at the outlook up at the house. They sprinted out of view and soon came hurtling down the steps to the pool in their trunks. They leapt in, disturbing Aemond’s laps but he reluctantly let himself be happy that the three of them were in the same place for once.

Aegon had just finished a degree in criminal psychology. Alicent and Otto had had to practically buy him a place at KLU. How he had managed to pass was a mystery to everyone, Aemond wondered if he had pulled it together at the last minute purely out of spite. He had already been living in a flat in central with a few of his friends for the last two years. Helaena said he rarely visited the house.

Aemond and Daeron had barely been back from Duskendale before they were all in the car to Dragonstone. He hadn’t minded boarding school, in some ways it made him appreciate the times he got to be at home, and it meant he didn’t have to see his father on a daily basis or watch his mother drive herself insane with her self-imposed workload. Again, Helaena gave him updates on that. He supposed it would make the move to Oldtown less jarring.

For now he laughed as Aegon challenged them to swimming races and tackled Daeron when he lost. The oldest Targaryen brother was surprisingly strong for his shorter stature. Daeron towered over him but he was wiry, easy for Aegon to sling him over his shoulder.

They were making such a scene in the water that Aemond didn’t notice his mother until she shouted Aegon’s name from the bottom of the steps. “Put your brother down and get changed, seven hells!”

Aegon tossed Daeron’s legs over his head, sending him flopping unceremoniously into the pool. “What’s the rush?”

“Rhaenyra and Harwin are only half an hour away!” Alicent shrieked, as if this was something they should have cared about. “And they’re bringing a guest, so I want you all presentable and ready for dinner before they arrive.”

Daeron was starting to climb up the ladder, so Aemond pressed his palms to the edge of the pool and pushed himself out.

“What guest?” he asked, reaching for his towel from one of the sun loungers.

Harwin’s niece.

She’d been a flower girl at Harwin and Rhaenyra’s wedding, but he only knew that from the photographs. He didn’t remember the last time he must have seen her, probably some family gathering with the Strongs, before Luke slashed a knife in his face and they stopped seeing them as often.

Aegon seemed eager for “fresh meat” as they marched back up to the house.

Daeron was more sceptical and shot Aemond a concerned frown. “Just what we need, another Strong kid.”

After a quick shower, Aemond changed into a white t-shirt and a pair of dark green cargo trousers, and made his way through the maze of hallways and ornate staircases. He found his parents in the reception hall, a spacious room located at the front of the house, leading off from the entrance hall, going through to the dining room on one side and the drawing room from the other. It was where they usually lingered when the arrival of a guest was imminent.

Most of the visitors to Dragonstone considered this to be the most impressive room in the house, with its tall stained glass windows, silver chandelier, walnut panelling and carved columns supporting a gallery on the first floor.

The smell of smoke and charred wood drifted from the fireplace, mingling with the musk of antique velvet sofas. Alicent was torn between typing something on her phone and discussing some arrangement with their head of security, a deceptively young looking man with black hair named Criston Cole.

Evidently Viserys had arrived. He was sitting in a red armchair, taking small sips of a glass of whisky. He looked up when he heard footsteps against the floor, and offered his son a vague nod.

Helaena and Daeron weren’t far behind Aemond, and Aegon was of course the last to make it down. He insisted it was “perfect timing,” because the moment he walked into the room, Cole received a call from the front gate.

Daeron perched on the windowsill and jittering like a puppy as a black escalade pulled up before the gatehouse.

Within minutes Viserys was throwing his arms around his favourite child. Aemond cast a cold glare over Harwin, Jace, Luke and little Joffrey, clinging to his father’s hand with his thumb in his mouth. The sixth guest followed behind them.

Her hair was pulled away from her face, wide eyes sweeping curiously over the people, the paintings on the walls and the antiques in glass cabinets. The beginning of a smile spread across her lips, but her face fell when her eyes met his.

Aemond sucked his teeth into his lips. He was used to people looking at him like that, or averting their gaze altogether. He could only imagine what Jace and Luke might have told her about their cruel uncle and his horrible scar.

At dinner she sat on the other end of the table from him, between Harwin and Jace. She was a few years older than her cousins but they all seemed to get on well, joking and smiling at each other. It made Aemond’s blood boil.

Daeron made a point of introducing himself to her but he suspected this show of hospitality was mostly because she was pretty.

She really was pretty though, and quiet, but not necessarily in a nervous way. She seemed content to listen, smiling vaguely at the things people said, feeling no need to fill the silences. When she did smile– properly smile– it was wide, bright and unashamed.

He overheard her mention an interest in history as dessert was brought out, asking Rhaenyra and Viserys all sorts of questions about Dragonstone’s origins and architecture. He thought of a few books in the library he could recommend but dismissed the idea. When Aegon suggested giving her a tour of the house he felt his grip on his fork tighten.

Dragonstone was large enough that even with most of the family there it was easy to feel alone, and Aemond spent the first few days of their stay doing exactly that. In the mornings he’d go for a run, then head down to either the pool or the beach for a quick swim. He had his reading list for uni already and was making his way through a textbook on political philosophy, which he read either in the library or a quiet corner of the garden.

Daeron and Aegon were far better at being civil with Jace and Luke than he was, and she seemed happy to tag along with their antics. Aemond avoided them where he could.

One afternoon he decided to take his textbook to the patio at the back of the house, and winced at the shrieks of laughter coming from the pool. He was going to head back inside but found himself stepping towards the balustrade, looking over the greenery to the unnaturally blue water.

She was sitting on the edge of the pool in a red swimsuit, with her legs in the water. Even from so far away he could make out the details of her smile, her teeth, the roundness of her cheeks and the way she squinted her eyes.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, until a gentle voice pulled him from his trance.

“Aemond?”

His heart almost stopped and he spun around immediately. An awful feeling sank into his chest, like he’d done something wrong.

Helaena was standing in the doorway, in a pale blue sundress and purple sandals. “Me and mum were going to drive into the village, if you’d like to come?”

Maybe some time away from the house would do him good. He nodded and uttered a quiet “yes.”

She came onto her tiptoes, trying to peer past his shoulder, but from where she was standing she wouldn’t have been able to see what he was looking at. Maybe she didn’t need to see. Another few howls of laughter drifted up to the patio, and a cry of “Aegon, you bastard!”

Helaena sighed and smiled. He left his book on a table in the entrance hall and followed his sister out to the gatehouse where Alicent was already waiting in the Volvo.

The village was just over a ten minute drive away from the house. Aemond leaned his head against the window in the backseat, feeling content in the blur of vibrant greens and blues. He could have fallen asleep to the hum of the air con and the voices of his mother and sister.

Until he heard her name.

“What?” he mumbled, absentmindedly, shifting himself in the seat and catching Helaena’s eye through her overhead mirror.

“She’s starting her A Levels in September,” Alicent said. “Politics, philosophy and history, same as you.”

He had also taken an extra class in High Valyrian, but he wasn’t going to hold it against her.

“You’d get on I think,” Helaena added, pushing her John Lennon-esque sunglasses on top of her head. He could see she was smirking.

Aemond huffed and went back to staring out the window at the fields, the sky, the sea and the wildflowers growing at the side of the road. He could say he didn’t care about their guest but it would have been a lie. He couldn’t get that red swimsuit out of his head.

Eventually he started agreeing to the occasional beach trip or tennis match. Turns out he quite enjoyed spending time with his nephews when he could beat them at something. And it meant he could see her more often.

There were these odd moments, when he’d catch her staring at him over breakfast or by the pool, that got his hopes up a little, only for her to quickly look away and find someone to fawn over, usually Aegon or one of her cousins. But then she’d find him in the garden and ask about the book he was reading, or sit next to him when they lit a campfire on the beach, just brushing her leg against his.

They could be confusing but he liked those moments. Every day he woke up ectatic that he would get to see her, and that they might talk about politics or philosophy or a shared love for Daphne du Maurier or the Great Gatsby.

He needed her alone, just once.

He got the chance on the last weekend of July. Alicent, Rhaenyra and Helaena had gone to Rosby for the day, while Harwin had been talking about a trip to Dragonstone harbour to go fishing, something Daeron sounded rather enthusiastic about. Leaving him, Aegon and Viserys at the house.

After a late breakfast, Aemond went up to the library with the next book on his reading list, An Introduction to Essosi Regionalism. He was rather taken aback to see her sitting at the writing desk by the window. He had assumed she had gone to the harbour with the others.

In a sudden and awkward motion she stood and turned to face him, with wide eyes and a small smile.

“Sorry,” she said, pointing at the desk, “did you want to–”

“No.” He instantly regretted how short and final he sounded.

Her eyes dipped and he realised he was clutching his book far too tightly.

“I was only looking really,” she said, reaching back for her book, a biography of Queen Alysanne.

“You like history,” he said, intending it to be a question but it sounded more like a statement.

She smiled again, at his mistake, he guessed. “Yeah, it’s incredible getting to spend so much time here, it’s a beautiful house.”

He stepped forward to place his book on the desk behind her, noticing the sweet citrusy scent of her perfume and the way she tensed up when he came too close.

“I could show you around, if you’d like? I mean, you’ve already been here long enough and you’ve probably seen most of it by now–”

It was only when she put a hand on his shoulder did he realise his head had dropped down to the floor.

“I’d love to,” she said.

Suddenly his chest felt a little lighter.

He showed her his favourite parts of the house, except the library which she had already seen, obviously. She had so many questions, noticed every detail and traced her fingertips along the ancient stone walls with a look of wonder that made his heart flutter.

Then they came to the long gallery overlooking the reception hall. He pointed out the fan vaulted ceiling detailed with gold and the line of portraits of hundreds of years of Targaryen history, monarchs and more recent family members. She was especially fascinated with a portrait of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne with children. She could put a name and a story to every face.

She turned her head towards him and her breath hitched when she realised he was looking at her. His first instinct was to back away and apologise, but she didn’t move or say anything, just looked up at him with those pretty eyes.

He wondered if he should kiss her. He’d never tried to kiss someone before. It should have been simple enough but it felt so daunting. What if he did it wrong? What if she didn’t want him to?

He saw her eyes flicker to his scar, and felt like he understood.

“Do you want to look at the old solar?” he asked, already walking towards the north door at the end of the gallery.

Behind him he heard her mutter a quiet “yeah.”

He rushed through the last few rooms. He could hardly catch his breath or think beyond the choking feeling in his throat or how hot the house seemed all of a sudden.

“Do you want to go outside?” she asked when he suggested going to the Maegor suite.

He nodded, and followed her down to the entrance hall, where they ran into Aegon. He was in trunks and an unbuttoned shirt to show off the tan on his abs.

He glanced between them with a strange look in his eye. “Beach?”

“Sounds good!” she said with a bright smile. “I just need to get some stuff from my room.”

Aegon grinned at her, then at his brother.

“I’m good, thanks,” Aemond grumbled, and went to spend the rest of the day sulking in his room.

Something was different about her after that. She stopped asking so many questions and rather than smile at him when they passed each other in the hallways she sighed and put her head down.

He really didn’t have much experience with these kinds of things, and he sure in seven hells wasn’t going to ask Aegon for advice.

He wished there was something he could do, but every time he thought about trying to talk to her he pictured her eyes on his scar and decided he’d rather spare her the trouble.

August went by far too quickly and then she was gone.

His time at the University of Oldtown brought some interesting experiences.

People seemed to respect him in a way he wasn’t used to. His lecturers complimented his work and his commitment to his studies. His classmates listened to him when he spoke in seminars, asked for his opinions on current affairs and invited him to lunches and parties.

He felt like a novelty in Oldtown, people wanted to befriend him, be seen with him, earn his approval. He felt shallow for admitting it, but the newfound attention felt good.

When he went back to King’s Landing that first summer, everyone said he was different. He’d always been interested in sports but he’d committed to a gym routine, shed some of the baby fat and toned out nicely. He traded the trackies and sports trainers for black shirts and leather jackets, got his ears pierced, drank whisky and smoked cigarettes on nights out.

And it turned out he wasn’t as hideous as he thought he was, in fact more often than not, the scar worked in his favour when it came to flirting.

After graduating he spent the summer in Oldtown, on an internship at Beacon, until Alicent told him she needed him in King’s Landing. She needed a contender of her own to pose as Viserys’ successor against Rhaenyra, and it was obvious neither Aegon or Helaena were going to live up to her expectations. So he did as he was told and moved back home, just in time for everything to start going wrong.

Viserys made his will. Rhaenyra was set to inherit Targ Corp and just about everything else he owned, including Dragonstone. Fucking typical. She had always been his golden child, all that was left of his beloved first wife. His mother always said he never got over Aemma. Singling out Rhaenyra was his way of making it up to her.

But Alicent had been the one helping Viserys run Targ Corp for twenty years, while Rhaenyra’s only real talent was her ability to get whatever she wanted out of their father.

If Rhaenyra were to succeed Viserys, everything his mother had worked for would be for nothing, but Aemond could be the one to change that. He could bring Targ Corp to new heights and live up to the legacy of the Targaryen name. All he needed was for Viserys to give him that chance.

Alicent had been in talks with Borros Baratheon of Storm’s End, an energy company based in the Stormlands. A deal with them would open Targ Corp to a whole new industry, and maybe then Viserys would recognise the lapse in judgement.

The Storm’s End contract was everything and Alicent had trusted Aemond to see it through. Only it fell apart in his hands. One seemingly minor mistake and Baratheon was out.

Alicent was devastated and it killed him. The late nights and weekends working in the office when she should have been with her children, the constant spite and security from the corporate world, the tabloid news stories that called her a “gold digger,” and the years she spent chasing her husband’s approval had all been for nothing.

She never said it, but Aemond knew she blamed him.

It had been a shitty three months and by December he was exhausted. Daeron was back from Duskendale, Aegon was staying for a few weeks, and Helaena was adamant that they were going to have an enjoyable Christmas. She covered the house in fairy lights and put up a tree in the living room, decorated with colourful baubles that really had nothing to do with Christmas; rainbows, butterflies and bees.

The other three agreed to indulge her. Aegon suddenly became an expert at Christmas cocktails, Daeron was in a baking frenzy and Aemond put his old piano lessons to good use. He sat at the baby grand in the hallway for the first time in forever and played some old hymns mum used to make them sing. Until Aegon put the chords for Fairytale of New York in front of him, which he agreed was a much better song.

Alicent came in from the office on the 24th, rain soaked through her coat and her eyes red. She’d had a call from Lyonel Strong.

Harwin was in the hospital. Pancreatic cancer. He’d been ignoring the symptoms for years apparently, and by the time Rhaneyra made him get a diagnosis it was too late.

Nothing was an isolated issue. Mum, dad, Rhaenyra, work… everything fed off each other in a single spiral of chaos and grief.

He needed the space, he decided at a fundraiser on New Years Eve. He and Viserys had arrived together but they didn’t so much as make eye contact the entire night. Rhaenyra was understandably inconsolable, mum had refused to go, Helaena wasn’t cut out for these kinds of events and Daeron was studying for mock exams. He at least found solace in the knowledge that he was preferable to Aegon.

A woman with black hair caught his attention. She moved effortlessly throughout the room, martini in hand, which she sipped through dark red lips as she struck up conversations with the other attendees. Did she realise she was targeting the richest people in the room? Probably. She blended in well, in a black slip dress and a pearl necklace, but there was something else, glaring him right in the face.

She was familiar, but he couldn’t place where he might have seen her before.

She smirked when she realised he was staring at her. After ordering herself another drink she waltzed over to him and introduced herself as “Alys Rivers.”

He must have let a little of his shock show on his face, because she smirked again.

Alys Rivers. Harwin’s cousin. The woman with the pretty daughter who’d spent a summer at Dragonstone.

They chatted for hours, she was very curious to hear about the company politics at Targ Corp, the few months he’d been working there and the whole debacle with the Storm’s End contract. She told him about herself too. She worked for Harrenhal PR, alongside her brothers, but was looking to start her own company.

He asked about Harwin.

That was the only time her perfect persona faltered, just for a moment, but then she took a sip of her drink and she was back to business. She said she was doing alright. It was a shock, he was like a brother to her, and she was trying to make the most of the moments she had left with him.

“It makes you appreciate what you have,” she said. They had found a table in a corner of the bar, ordering too many cocktails. She sighed heavily and put her hand on her chest, over her heart, “I’m so lucky I’ve got my darling girl.”

He didn’t even need to ask before she started telling him more. She was in her second year of studying history at KLU, a bright student, a sweet and serious girl.

She said Harwin adored her, always had, even once things got serious with Rhaenyra and he started having kids of his own.

“Poor thing,” he said, “this must all be so hard on her.”

“She’s like me,” Alys insisted, finishing off another martini. Her words were starting to slur, but even when she was drunk she did it gracefully. “Nothing phases her.”

He could still remember the smell of her perfume, sweet and citrusy.

Alys’s perfume was dark, bitter and boozy. When he kissed her the taste of her martinis burned on his tongue. Vodka. He was more of a gin man.

Generally he tried to avoid one night stands, but it didn’t take much convincing before he found himself in her hotel room.

He spent the entire night on his back while she edged him relentlessly, with her hands and her mouth, before she finally rode him, whispering praises in his ear as she did it.

He decided it would be bad manners not to text her, so the following Friday night, they went to a steakhouse on Conquest street. It felt more like a business meeting than a date, they talked more about Targ Corp and her plans for her own PR firm. She had the ambition and industry knowledge, but needed the strategy and the connections to make it work.

“You and I could be a match made in heaven,” he said.

She paused midway through a sip of red wine, and raised her eyebrow ever so slightly. “I don’t usually go for younger men,” she said, “but you’re smart and uncomplicated. I think we could work something out.”

The line between business and pleasure was non-existent. They looked over contracts and business plans over coffee, accompanied each other to conferences and fucked in hotel rooms. She was straightforward, blunt at times but he found it impressive and refreshing. He never had to guess what she was thinking because she didn’t see the point in trying to hide behind niceties. Every time he complimented her confidence she said it was “a consequence of age.”

Things moved faster than he realised. Suddenly winter was turning into spring and Alys asked him to work for Rivers PR full time.

He found the wherewithal to tell Alicent and Viserys on a rare occasion that his father actually bothered to eat with them. He tried to be as casual as he could about his sabbatical from Targ Corp. It ended with an explosive row over the dinner table, leaving both Helaena and his mother in tears. Viserys was still shouting from the hallway as he packed an overnight bag and stormed out to his car.

He had to call three times before Aegon finally picked up. “Good for you!” his brother cheered down the end of the phone. “Who would have thought you’d end up like this though? Six months ago you were mum’s favourite son.”

“She just kept telling me I was selfish,” Aemond said, first the Storm’s End contract and now this. “And apparently Rhaenyra’s been up in arms about Alys branching off from Harrenhal, especially with everything that’s going on with Harwin.”

“Will you go to hers then?”

He was already heading towards central. “That’s why I called, I need somewhere to stay, I thought you could put me up for a bit.”

Aegon drew out an exaggerated “uhh,” and Aemond hung up, not in the mood to listen to some long winded excuse.

He gripped the steering wheel as he came to a junction and a sign for Queen’s Park. So much for being “uncomplicated.”

Alys was in a silk robe when she opened the door. “Mummy and daddy kicked you out?” she asked with a pouty frown.

He insisted he had left of his own accord.

It was a beautiful terraced house, plaster fronted, overlooking the park. The interior was understated and elegant, dark wood floors, white walls and bursts of muted greens.

It was quiet too, and the only light came from the kitchen.

“Where’s–”

“She’s out with a few friends,” Alys said.

He followed her through to the kitchen, where she poured out two glasses of wine and he told her everything.

By the time he was done she had finished her glass. She looked into it, like she was surprised to see that it was empty. He hadn’t touched his.

“Are you planning on staying for long?” she asked.

For a moment he felt stupid for coming to her at all. He couldn’t quite figure out what they were to each other, and suddenly he was showing up on her doorstep and using her like a therapist.

“I called Aegon first but I think he’s busy. I can be gone in the morning if you want.”

She took hold of his shoulder, stroking her thumb over the fabric of his shirt. “You can stay as long as you need to.”

He looked at her. He was used to her expression being so smug and severe, but she looked gentle now, her eyes wide and full of pity. When he took a shallow breath he realised she was wearing the same, dark perfume from New Years.

He kissed her slowly, nudging his nose against hers and slipping a hand around her waist to pull her in closer.

She chuckled softly as she pulled away. “I’ll be off early in the morning. Take some time if you need to, sort something out with Aegon or…”

“Right,” he said, swallowing down the lingering taste of red wine from her lips.

They slept in her bed, with their backs to each other.

When he woke in the morning Alys was gone. He checked the time on his phone, 8am, and he had a text from her: Help yourself to coffee. Let me know what your plan is.

He threw on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants before he headed downstairs. He quickly figured out his way around the expensive coffee machine and settled on a stool at the island with a cup of black coffee.

His hands were restless, tapping against the coffee cup and the counter top.

She was in the same house as him, probably sound asleep upstairs, though he hadn’t heard anyone come in during the night. Did she know he was here? She must have seen the car outside, but she wouldn’t know it was his.

He’d hardly even considered the possibility of seeing her again until now, but he hadn’t expected things with to Alys to go this far.

He looked down at his phone. Maybe staying with Alys wasn’t such a good idea. He started typing out a text to Aegon when he heard the door to the kitchen open.

“Hello again.”

She stood in the doorway, squinting her eyes at him, hair loose and tousled, in nothing but an overused Black Sabbath t-shirt that covered the tops of her thighs. She looked a little dishevelled and utterly perfect.

“Hi,” Aemond said, putting his phone down and reaching for his cup. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I got a text from mum. She said she had a guest and I was free to ignore him or kick him out.”

“Have you decided which?”

She huffed a laugh and there was that smile again, though not as wide as it had been that summer. “I felt like being nosy,” she said.

She moved towards the sink and filled a glass of water, which she finished in one go, with a sound of satisfaction. She drew the tip of her tongue between her lips and set the glass on the counter before she turned to look at him again. “So you’re mum’s new boytoy?”

“Is that what she calls me?” he said, trying to play off the tight feeling in his chest with a small smirk.

“She doesn’t call you anything, actually. She’s been going on these little dates, calling them ‘work calls’ and hoping I won’t notice.”

“How do you know they’re not work calls?”

“I wouldn’t have until she brought you home with her.”

“That was my fault…” he looked down at his coffee. He was convinced he could already feel the caffeine buzzing in his fingertips.

“You look different,” she said.

His eyes shot back to her. “How so?”

“Your hair’s longer. It makes you look older.”

He raised an eyebrow and smiled at the way she recoiled into herself.

“I meant it as a compliment, honest.”

She looked different too. Her face hadn’t changed much from what he could remember, but mostly he noticed that she seemed more subdued. Her eyes were set in dark circles and they weren’t as wide, and when she wasn’t speaking her lips fell slightly. She looked older, but then how long had it been since Dragonstone? More than three years, less than four.

She told him where everything was in the kitchen, which he could have figured out himself but he didn’t want to interrupt her. She asked how long he was going to stay and he said until he heard back from Aegon.

That turned out to be a week later, and by then Alys insisted she liked having him around.

Initially he looked at a few rentals, which Alys discouraged and insisted he should buy his own place. Between work and the daily mass of texts he was getting from his siblings about Targ Corp and their parents, he couldn’t find the time to truly consider it.

It was easy to fall into a routine with Alys. She left for work earlier than him so he took his own car every morning. Everyone at the office guessed they were ‘together’ but they kept things professional. If he so much as put a hand on her shoulder she scared him off with a warning look. She always stayed later than him so he’d go back to the house, sort out dinner and have it waiting for when the girls got home.

The girls. He was going domestic.

She only had lectures a few times a week and when she was at home she stayed in her bedroom, only occasionally bringing a book down to the garden or the lounge while he worked in the kitchen. He wondered if she was avoiding him. Considering the awful impression he made at Dragonstone, he didn’t blame her.

But eventually she started to warm up to him. They found some common interests and small talk turned into in-depth discussions of history and politics and their favourite films and albums. She loved Mazzy Star especially. Sometimes, when he had the house to himself, he’d listen through their albums and imagine her listening to the same songs.

He soon learned just how elusive Alys could be. She always had something going on, a work event, a conference or even trips to Pentos with her old uni friends. When she was at home she was usually in the study on the top floor of the house, on a call, looking over contracts or managing some kind of crisis that only she could solve. If he joined her on work trips it was by her invitation.

So he often found himself alone with her. Movie nights became a weekly ritual, usually late in the week, and every week they seemed to sit a little closer to each other than before.

One night she fell asleep against him. His arm was around the back of the sofa and her head gently fell against his chest.

He wasn’t sure what to do, if he should wake her, but she looked so peaceful with her eyes closed, lips parted and breath fluttering down the collar of his t-shirt. Her body was warm and she was wearing that same citrusy perfume.

He wanted to keep her there. He could lie down, hold her in his arms and fall asleep pressed into her back.

Guilt told him otherwise. So he moved away from her, as carefully as he could, and guided her to lie fully on the sofa with a pillow under her head and a blanket draped over her body.

Alys came in from a dinner sometime after 1am and slipped wordlessly into her side of the bed. Within minutes he could hear her gentle snores.

He closed his eyes but he didn’t sleep. All he could think about was her breath on his chest, the way her shorts had ridden up her thighs, and that fucking perfume.

He was probably just tired, getting excited by some old crush which he was way past by now. He was sure he would forget about it by the morning.

If only it had ended there.

By the time spring came around she had warmed up to him. They spent Sunday mornings drinking coffee together in the garden and went for drives out to Blackwater Bay. They had inside jokes and talked about their families. Some nights she’d come crying to him over uni, arguments with her mother and a stupid boy who broke her heart. She was so pretty when she cried.

When she asked him to help her with a particular exam he couldn’t help himself. He noticed everything about their study sessions together, the way she shuddered when he put a hand on her shoulder, the way her breath hitched when he praised her.

His heart swelled when she came home from that exam with a wide smile, throwing herself into his arms and telling him all the details she could remember. Her eyes were so bright and gazing up at him almost adoringly.

He was so happy for her, and so proud.

She didn’t pull away when he kissed her. She met him with soft touches to his neck and a hummed whimper that threatened to spark something primal in him.

They smiled at each other when it was over, until the haze started to wear off. He cleared his throat, and muttered that he still had work to do. She nodded but they kept staring at each other, his hands on her waist and hers drifting down from his neck to his chest.

She was the first to step away. He watched her disappear through the door and wondered how he had managed to make such a mess of his life.

For the entirety of the next week he couldn’t get that muffled whimper out of his head.

Every time he saw her he wanted to drag her into him and kiss her again, harsher, hungrier, with his hands tracing over every inch of her body.

He told himself he was being stupid and he just needed an outlet. For the most part, he and Alys doing well together, but on the few occasions they actually fucked he found the novelty of being beneath her was starting to wear off.

Frustratingly, everything else seemed to be working well for him. He was good at his job; working for Rivers PR was certainly helping to distract him from his family and the company was thriving. He didn’t have to put up with his parents and the Rivers girls seemed happy enough to have him around. The only problem left was him.

In June Alys was accompanying a client on a trip to Dorne, a few days in Salt Shore, Lemonwood and then a week in Sunspear. Aemond wasn’t sure if he was elated or dreading her absence. Every time he’d been around her lately he held his breath, waiting for her to realise something was wrong.

She remained perfectly normal though. Her exams were finished and she had an internship at Lion Publishing lined up for the month of August. In the meantime she was living life as she pleased, lunch dates and picnics in the park with her friends, but she spent a lot of time at home too, mostly reading or writing in a leatherbound notebook.

The kiss was a mistake. A stupid mistake. He kept looking for a chance to talk to her, but decided it might be best until Alys was away.

Alys’ flight was due on a Friday evening and he dropped her off in the afternoon. They sat in silence for most of the journey but silence wasn’t a rarity for them.

When they reached the airport they both went to take the bags out the boot.

“I’m a big girl, I can manage,” she said dryly, but that was just her sense of humour.

“I don’t doubt it,” he said.

She set her suitcase by her side and slipped her arm through her Prada tote bag. “The two of you can look after yourselves well enough,” she said, fussing with the collar of her blouse. “I don’t need to tell you not to answer the door to strangers or anything?”

He smiled unenthusiastically. “No.”

With her eyes one the pavement, she brought her fingers to the styled waves of her hair, bringing a few tresses over her shoulder.

“She’s fond of you,” she said. “I know I can’t always be there for her when she needs me, but I know you helped her with that exam and I appreciate it.” There was no sign of shortness or irritation like there usually was when she spoke about anything remotely personal. She was being sincere and it just made him feel worse.

“Don’t mention it,” he said.

She shrugged her shoulders and the businesswoman was back. “Right then. I’d give you a kiss goodbye but I have lipstick on.”

How devastatingly practical, as always. She threw an arm around his shoulder and he pecked her cheek before she headed for the terminal, quickly and gracefully, heels clicking against the ground.

He had plans to meet Helaena for dinner at a restaurant in central. With her mother out the way, she had invited a few friends to celebrate the end of exams and he figured she’d appreciate the space.

He didn’t realise how much he missed not living with his sister until he saw her. That was the downside of the new circumstances, he never got to see his siblings as much as he wanted to.

Helaena asked him about Alys and her, how they were dealing with Harwin still in the hospital. He told her the truth, they didn’t really talk about it much, but by that point it was a matter of waiting for the inevitable.

Apparently Rhaenyra was a mess. She would be. Her husband was dying, she had three kids to look after and Harrenhal PR was falling to pieces now that Larys was in charge and Alys had poached half of their best clients.

Helaena was exhausted. She was getting ready to start a PhD in Highgarden and she should have been excited, but she hardly had the wherewithal to think about it with Alicent and Viserys’ constant rowing. At least Daeron would be back in a few more days so she wouldn’t be the only child at the house.

“Are you coming to Dragonstone this year?” she asked.

He took a telling breath through his nose and finished off his glass of wine.

“Aemond, please, it won’t be the same without you.”

He scoffed. “No one wants me there.”

She frowned at him with those sad blue eyes of hers. “Don’t say that.”

“Did you know mum hasn’t called me once since I left? It’s been five months. Do you really think I can just show up and we’ll play happy families then go back to hating each other when we get home?”

Her face twisted like she might start crying.

“Sorry I just–” he held his forehead in his hands and dragged them back over his hair. He didn’t want to think about Dragonstone, it just made him think of her.

He felt her hand gently take his wrist and guide it down to the table so she could see his face.

“What’s up with you?” she asked.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

She raised her eyebrows and hummed like she didn’t believe him.

It wasn’t long after 10pm when he got back to the house. He heard voices and giggles in the front lounge. He walked softly through the hallway and slowed when he came to the door.

“... that’s always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Jo, you’re sick.”

“Oh step-daddy!”

Laughter followed, with a few disbelieving sighs. He recognised her laugh, and made out two other distinct voices. He guessed they hadn’t heard him come in.

“Is he hot though?”

He listened for a reply but she stayed quiet.

“Oh come on! I bet you’ve thought about it.”

“No.” She said it so simply he almost believed her.

He moved through to the kitchen intending to get some water. There were two empty pizza boxes and an assortment of empty wine bottles on the kitchen island. He went to clean them up when the door opened.

“Hi,” she said softly. Her face was dewy and a little flushed. “I didn’t hear the door.”

“I only just got in,” he said, “don’t worry I didn’t hear anything incriminating.”

She tilted her head at him with a slightly dazed smile. She looked gorgeous and the pair of jeans she wore fit her perfectly.

She refilled the glasses from a new bottle and nodded to an empty glass on the counter. “Do you want to join us?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” she said.

He followed her through to the lounge, bringing the glass and the bottle with him.

Before he opened the door she leaned into him and whispered, “don’t worry, Margarey has work tomorrow and Jo’s waiting for her boyfriend so they won’t stay long.”

Margaery and Joanna were effortlessly charming but he distrusted them for being law students. They both grinned when he sat on the sofa by the window and were eager to ask him about his time in Oldtown and his job.

Joanna kept glancing over to her, but she remained unphased until Margarey mentioned Targ Corp. Her face slowly fell in irritation. He found it quite endearing.

“So why did you leave?” Joanna asked, “it was something to do with Viserys’ will, right?”

“It’s none of your business, is it?” she said shortly.

Aemond gave her a quick smile to let her know it was alright and she settled back to contentment.

Just as she said, they were both gone before midnight. She saw them to the door and when she came back to the lounge she fell beside him with her legs against his and her head on his shoulder.

“Did you have a nice evening?” he asked. If he turned his head just a little further his lips would brush against her temple.

“Really lovely,” she sighed.

He considered asking about the kiss, but she was definitely tipsy and just sitting with her was too peaceful. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb the moment and the sound of her breathing.

Her fingers began to trace up over the fabric of his shirt, up and down over his stomach and the lines of his abs underneath.

He put his hand over hers to stop her, but somehow it only seemed to spur his own want. He closed his hand around her, tracing his thumb over her knuckles.

She shifted her head so she was looking at him and her breath echoed over his neck.

She leaned in first. Their lips met with gentle grazes, just feeling each other and breathing the same air.

Gradually they deepened their movements. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and he melted at her softness and her warmth. He cupped her jaw to pull her into him despite the gnawing feeling in his chest, like he was getting too close, like he could never get close enough.

She started to move and he tried to keep hold of her, expecting her to slip from his grasp, until he felt her weight on his lap. She straddled him, wrapping her hands around the sides of his neck and threading her fingers through his hair. She gave him another dazed little smile before she continued to kiss him fiercely, desperately.

It was a bad idea. It was such a bad idea, but for now he would take the guilt if he got to feel her like this, her lips trailing along his jaw and down his neck, her heavy breaths and whimpers as she started to rock her hips against him.

He reached to take hold of her hips, moving with her at first before he set a new, steadier pace, dragging her against the tightening bulge in his jeans. “You alright there, pet?” he hummed.

She nudged her forehead against his. “Please can you just…” her eyes followed her hands as she propped herself against his chest.

“What do you want, baby?” he whispered.

She let out a whine that went straight to his cock.

“Come on,” he hissed, “talk to me.”

She clenched her fists to tug at his shirt. “I want you,” she breathed.

He strained an exhale as he tried to stop his hips from bucking into her. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said with a groan, but he was already trying to rationalise it.

She could be the outlet, just once, just to get it out of his system.

“No it’s not, but I still want you,” she said.

Or maybe it didn’t have to be about him. He could just give her what she needed.

“Please,” she whined trying to fight against his hold on her hips, “I want you so bad, it fucking hurts.”

“Oh you poor thing,” he cooed, moving his face down to tease the skin of her throat with his lips and tongue.

He knew they were on the cusp of something dangerous and damning, but it was her, the girl from that summer, the girl with the pretty smile and the curious look in her eyes, Alys’ daughter.

When he looked up to her face her eyes were wide and pleading.

Maybe he felt he owed it to a younger version of himself, or maybe it was the wine he’d had at the restaurant but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the consequences.

He pressed his palm against her stomach, feeling her body tremble and her quick, shallow breaths. He trailed lower to undo the buttons on her jeans. “Take these off for me,” he muttered.

She didn’t hesitate to follow his instruction. She drew the jeans down her legs, leaving her in her top and a black thong. He told her to straddle him again, which she did.

With firm but gentle hands he felt along the bare flesh of her thighs and her ass, positioning her over his thigh. He pulled the thong against her until she was squirming and trying to rut against his jeans.

He chuckled softly to himself and held her waist tightly to keep her still, and she followed the silent instruction so well. She was panting, leaning in closer to him, but waiting for his lead. He was slightly scared of how much he loved it.

He brought his hand to her cheek, stroking and toying with her bottom lip. “Do you want to be good for me?” he whispered.

She hummed her agreement.

“Fuck yourself against my thigh, pretty girl, show me how desperate you are.”

With a small nod she started to move, letting out little moans when her clothed clit rolled against his leg.

He kept her movements slow, even when she tried to fight against him and go faster.

“No,” he said, “be a good girl for me, do as you’re told.”

The pace was agonising for her, eyes screwed shut and jaw hung open as her hands got restless, running over his jaw, his neck and into his hair.

He kept her steady and pressed her down against his jeans with each drag of her hips, playing with the change in pressure and smiling at the way it made her whine and her eyes water.

“Aemond… I need more…”

He still kept the movements nice and slow. “Just let it happen– there you go, good fucking girl.”

She didn’t hold back her moans as her climax hit her, tensing hard and falling into him. He kept her moving through it, until her thighs were shaking and she begged him to stop.

He was sure he’d never been so hard in his life, but he held her there, breathing in the smell of her hair and her perfume.

Then he brought her away from him so he could see her face, beautifully blissed out. There was that light, hopeful feeling in his chest, but it was starting to crumble under the realisation of what they’d done.

“Is that actually a thing, the step-daddy thing?” he asked.

She huffed a breathy laugh. “According to Jo it is. Why, do you want me to call you daddy?”

He wouldn’t admit it then, but he liked the way it sounded coming from her.

General Taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy

Series Taglist: @marthawrites @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aaaaaamond @boundlessfantasy @sahvlran @tinykryptonitewerewolf @arcielee @tssf-imagines @aemondsfavouritebastard @skikikikiikhhjuuh @queenofshinigamis @lost-and-founds @izzydlb @dc-marvel-girl96 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @padfooteyes @castellomargot @pet1t3 @okfashionista @khaothick

#my fics #aemond targaryen #aemond x original female character #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #modern!aemond #modern au #house of the dragon fanfiction #stepdad!aemond #my heart belongs to daddy

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valenli · 9 months

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Headcanons for some of my favourite men in franchises (movies)

Would love to do a part two for this little thing, but here's the first few!

Baldwin (KOH)

Baldwin often hides his face in his headwrap or in his hands after kissing his S/O. Both from his embarrassment and flustered behavior around the woman he loves

In parties, he probably dances along with S/O and does struggle, but his woman shows him patience and holds him to herself

Chess! He enjoys passing the time they have remaining on their visits to enjoy chess. Both losing and outsmarting his lover whenever he can

Gentle showers, I think his S/O lady would definitely be as gentle as she can with Baldwin. And wouldn't look at him as a burden but rather as a king he is. I think she'd help him clean as she would give him stares.

Roy Walker (THE FALL)

Roy will often tell his S/O stories of all kind, from wild to just absolute tragedies. But he'd try to tease or get S/O attention by often mentioning his S/O by her name

Roy drinks often and becomes a sad drunk, however he usually rests his head on S/O to let it all out

Roy likes going with S/O to the farm belonging to Alexanderia's family. Picking apples and oranges with her

Roy begins accepting his new body when he is with S/O as she doesn't treat him as lesser for simply being unable to walk. She let's him feel confident

The Red Bandit (THE FALL)

The Bandit shows his love for S/O with great yet wild gifts. Such as giant piles of rare flowers or a beautiful wedding in a foreign land

The Bandit often talks about his many great adventure, not to boast, but to convince his lady to come with him. Showing his loyalty to her

The Bandit let's himself and his S/O parent the young Bandit as though she was their own. And they stick together like a big family

The Bandit cherishes weddings, and so, his anniversary is always a different story. Wild lands, rare beasts, precious treasures? He does it all

V (V for Vendetta)

V always masters breakfasts for his S/O lady to feel good when she first wakes up. He takes it upon himself to make the best breakfasts

V and S/O's relationship can often be at stake as he is a so called criminal and she is his so called assistant. But he shows her that his love for her cannot be challenged

V enjoys practicing blades with S/O for sport as his it becomes his hobby and he is fond of it. Though he sometimes let's his persona get a bit in over his head, to which S/O teases him

V gets all types of flowers for S/O as he knows that for him, Rose's are deathly symbols, so he researches meanings of flowers just for her

#the fall 2006 #v for vendetta #roy walker #vforvendettaV #theredbandit #kingdom of heaven #baldwin iv #headcanon #fanfic #reader x character

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themissinghand · 8 months

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Dr. Stone: Growing Up With Stanley Synder

Note: Received a request from anon but sadly lost the OG request message. Thanks for the request though! Always open to taking requests, and for other fandoms as well!

Summary: Headcanons of what it would be like growing up together with our favourite sniper king.

Pairing: Stanley Snyder x GN! Reader!

Warnings: Spoilers for the characters, but no canon plot. For anime watchers, don't search up Xeno or Stanley if you don't want to be spoiled!

★・・・・・・★

Childhood Friendship:

Stanley Snyder has been friends with you since you were kids. It’s not really a choice, considering you two were practically neighbors, and your parents being friends with one another.

Even so, Stanley felt like you two just clicked upon the first meeting.

Stanley never thought you two would share many similar interests and hobbies.

Often, Stanley would spend countless weekends with you, playing sports, watching movies, discovering hidden gems in the city, and pranking others.

Stanley’s family were incredibly supportive and happy that their son were getting along with you so well. So they often invited you to go over whenever your parents had work overseas.

They encouraged open-mindedness and respect between the two of you as you two sometimes fought and got mad at each other for little things.

Stanley learned to apologize and forgive, how to be stern and patient, and be the kind and responsible “other brother” in your friendship

Back then, he was just your childhood friend.

Realization of Feelings:

Stanley began to realize his feelings for you when he was in high school.

He found himself blushing around you and getting nervous when you smiled at him.

He cared for the little things, and didn’t want to disappoint you when he got in trouble with his guy group.

Stanley became increasingly protective of you, always looking out for your well-being.

He'd insist on walking you home after school and making sure you were safe.

Sometimes, he would even go out of his way to take care of you when you were sick.

Stanley developed a habit of calling you at night. Asking about your day, and tell you about his.

He loved these late-night conversations, just you and him, sometimes sharing stories, gossip, dreams, fears, and secrets.

Stanley found comfort in these talks, and it was during one of these moments that he admitted to himself that he had a crush on you, and can’t let you go.

Courting & Confession:

Stan isn't afraid to show his affection, like offering to carry your backpack or complimenting you about your looks, knowledge or personality.

He often buys you food and eventually became your personal professional driver.

Stanley reached out to his closest friend, Xeno, about his feelings, seeking advice on how to confess.

Xeno encouraged him to be honest with you but also cautioned him to respect your boundaries in the case that feelings aren’t reciprocated.

(Xeno was sure that it would be, that sneaky little Einstein)

One day, Stanley finally mustered the courage to tell you about his feelings.

Stanley and you sat together under the beautiful night stars during one of your many weekend hangouts, and it was then he blurted out his confession.

“Hey Y/N, you know, we've been friends for so long…practically since babies. You know you were really ugly back then.”

“Oh shut it, like you weren’t a brat.” A shared nudge and chuckle.

“Hey, there's something I need to tell you."

"Yea? What is it, Stan?"

"Well, it's just... ah screw it, I really like you. Not just as a friend. I mean, I like you a lot. More than I've ever liked anyone.”

From your looks to your personality to funny moments and lovable times, his rant went on for a bit like a kid describing his favourite cartoon.

"Damn, I know it's probably weird to hear, and I understand if you don't feel the same way. But can you give me an answer soon?”

Stanley closed his eyes and waited patiently for your answer. At this time, he really wanted to smoke.

"Stanley Synder, you dummy. You know, I've been feeling the same way.” Stanley felt a hand on his shoulder, waking him up.

“I was just too scared to say anything."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. I've liked you for a long time too, Stan. No matter how much of an annoying show-off and-." He pulled you into a little hug which cut you off, but you didn’t mind.

The hug now felt a little differently than before.

You two stayed like that for a bit, relishing in the peace and quiet, in relief.

"So, what do we do now?"

"How about we keep being us? We don't have to change anything about our friendship, just add a little extra something."

“Hmm, that sounds perfect.”

#manga #anime #anime and manga #dr stone #drst #dr stone spoilers #gn y/n #gn reader #gn #stanley snyder x reader #stanley snyder #xeno houston wingfield #dr stone headcanons #dr stone fluff

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inventedfangirling · 10 months

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Hello this is basically a long post about me sorting through my feelings about bad buddy and why it means so much to me.

So over the past few weeks ( i first watched the show 7 weeks ago) ive been trying to figure out what exactly about bad buddy and patpran in particular have got me so inexplicably fond and devoted to them and apart from the usual answers of great writing, directing, performances and the best most electric chemistry and banter known to humankind, i did arrive at couple of other answers too.

First of all pat and (especially) pran are deep and well rounded characters.

Their worlds feel lived in and real.

Their feelings and thoughts and motivations are of course excellently portrayed by both ohm and nanon. and they gave representation to queer people everywhere. pat being the pan/ bi king he is and pran being the gayest babyboy warrior poet ever. pran especially given his repressed nature and emotional closed-off-ness is somebody a lot of people surely saw themselves in, including myself. seeing myself represented like that starting off the way he is and then taking small steps one by one over the course of the whole show (and over years in the show's universe) to arrive at the more assured, more open, more ready to be vulnerable (but still very much the pran we all loved in the first episode itself) was so wonderful to see.

The fact that the show happens in a non homophobic universe doesnt take away from just how special it was seeing queer characters fall, be and stay in love. and most importantly that they got their happy ending (i wont be hearing anything against this cos the ending was happy, despite the slightly bittersweet tinge of it, it was happy and there shall be no counter arguments begone i cant with that)

That episode 12 gave a glimpse of their future.

A world where pat will one day be able to sit with pran in his house eating food made by dissaya. that pran and pat's mom work on a common hobby together cos why not. a world where they no longer have to hide, a world were they could well and truly thrive.

Its so so important as queer people that we get representation and that in a world that is often cruel to the likes of us especially here in asia, that we see happy adult queer lives, where they can be in love in the most mundane of ways.

Patpran and bad buddy gave us that and i will forever be thankful for it.

That still doesn't capture exactly why i rate them as a couple so so highly in my head.

So i thought of patpran in the context of all the other love stories i could possibly remember watching. i thought of some of my top favourite couples - mondler, phil & claire, schmidt & cece, peraltiago, leslie & ben, jack & rebecca, randall & beth, simon & wilhelm, jaeyong & sangwoo, ji hyun & jaewon, bai lang & xun an, tara & darcy, sumi & rimjhim and so so many more and what stood out for me when it came to patpran was that they were the one couple out of all these couples i adore who didnt let anything get between them once they got together.

Every other couple among the ones ive listed have had jobs or other relationships or distance or parents or workplace rules /etiquette or circumstances or the royalty standing in between their love and as a result causing the couple to break apart ( a couple of episodes for mondler to seasons of confusion for peraltiago and schmidt & cece etc) even if briefly.

Except for phil & claire (who btw wasnt even sure about marrying phil when she did) almost none of these couples got together and stayed together throughout their relationship. and yes i agree that a lot of these obstacles and circumstances are very real and taxing and no wonder people chose their own peace at least for a while to deal with everything BUT i just cant help feel more appreciative of pat pran even more cos these two 19 year olds figured this whole thing out faster than any of those full grown adults did.

And yes its fictional and maybe even unrealistic (given the kind of relationships i see irl) yet patpran really do deserve all the love they get. they do deserve a lot of props.

Its not like they didn't have adverse obstacles standing in their way, they had to fight against their families years and years of lies and all the intergenerational trauma and their faculty rivalry and a shitty friend who outed them and any single one of these should have caused at least 12 episodes worth of conflict and miscommunication in any other couple.

And yes i do recognise that bbs didnt have the luxury of time or multiple seasons but they could have kept them apart for a whole episode at least, i was convinced we were in for that at the end of episode 8 as the aftermath of wai outing them. like there is no way the relationship comes out of it unscathed ( i thought! ). and while im sure they personally were rattled and betrayed (pran more so), instead of blaming anybody else or each other they actually chose to handle it together, they worked together and chose to move forward together.

The fact that such a terrible experience instead of breaking them apart actually reaffirmed to both pat and pran just how much their relationship means to the both of them, that they come out of it actually stronger??

i was friggin shook to my core.

And then came the gunshots and the family finding out and the running away and the coming back and the fake breakup and the pressures of all of this should have been enough to drive a serious wedge between any two characters, especially at their age and lack of experience. and yet??? and yet at each obstacle they get up, they draw the other closer and they get down to working on it together again.

Over and over and over and over again.

So for me what separates patpran from everybody else is the fact that ever since they got together, they have chosen eo, intentionally, that has made the difference.

Pat and pran's story may have been destined ( i personally don't know if i believe in destiny). they may have been born neighbours and felt unexplainable intense feelings (that later turned to love) for the other but when it came down to it, at its core, bad buddy soars when the two come together and they choose to keep being together, despite everything that stands in their way.

Love is a choice. love is a sacrifice. but its also a sacrifice and a choice they made for themselves and for each other and above all for their relationship.

Almost all the couples mentioned above arrive at similar destinations but they arrive at it with years of experience and years of struggle. i just cant help marvel at our teenagers who did love better than whole ass adults double their age could.

And more importantly above the awe i feel inspired and hopeful because they showed me that there's always a choice. thats there's always another option. you dont need to get out of your comfort zone. but you also dont need to be in the comfort zone always. you dont need to keep lying to yourself. you dont need to hide every single part of you. there are always other options. there is always a choice.

That hope is not just a noun its also very much a verb. That you and i and each one of us can make that choice.

That if ever i choose to partner up with someone and if we do proper healthy communication (patpran invented healthy communication and consent btw, they deserve EVERYTHING for just that but thats a whole other post) prioritizing the relationship where it mattered, i too could have something ( even remotely) like their love.

For the first time in my life probably i felt like that kind of love was attainable for me if i wanted to pursue it. They gave me hope. and they gave me joy. and i will never not be unbelievably grateful for it.

#bad buddy #patpran #pran x pat #sorry for the long post #not sorry for the love #thankyou paof

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dandelion-jester · 9 months

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Writblr Intro:

Hello All!!!

I've been meaning to do a proper intro so better late then never!

Who Am I?

You can call me Dandelion. I'm 22 years old, I use they/them pronouns, I'm English and I am a queer, trans, neurodivergent fantasy writer. I've not had anything published yet but it's my aim.

I have a background in theatre and circus so performing arts tend to turn up in my work. I also love making maps and studying conlangs! I do a lot of art and reading as hobbies, but my favourite pass time is playing dnd!

What Do I Write?

I write mainly fantasy, but also scifi and historical fiction. I also dabble in poetry and I would like to learn how to write for games and screen at some point. For now though, it's all novel writing as far as the eye can see.

My favourite trope to write is found family (I blame all the dungeons and dragons I play). I also write a lot of queer characters and try to diversify my casts as much as possible. My work tends to be very character driven although I do love world building a lot, especially building different cultures and places. I'm best st dialogue and really struggle with building plots. I also have a deep love for history, specifically the 1700s and Anglo saxon - medieval Britain, so that's usually finds its way into my work as well.

You can find my work on Patreon here

What Do I Read?

Unsurprisingly, it's mostly fantasy. I used to read over 100 books a year, but university has made me hit a massive reading slump. So the main thing keeping me going right now is Robin Hobb. I also listen to a lot of audiobooks.

My WIPs:

Information on my current work is under the break!!

Feypocalypse

Feypocalypse is a queer, fantasy horror comic set in medieval England following the events of a Fey Apocalypse in the 1300s. It follows a group of knights trying to survive in a world that has been turned into a Fey hunting ground, whilst protecting the Changeling child they accidentally adopted. The current plan is eight issues, to be published on Patreon and then printed as a complete novel at the end! It will be written by myself and illustrated by my amazing co-creator @withlovefromthecrowss.

The Legend of The Rat Bastards (vols. 1 & 2)

I recently finished playing in a Curse of Strahd campaign that lasted about 2 years and was one of the best dnd experiences of my life. So of course, I decided to write it up in novel form so that I and the other players could always return to it. Our paladin was an extremely detailed note taker so I've been borrowing their notes. It's currently the longest piece of writing I’ve ever done and I add to it every day. It's from the pov of my character, a human necromancer called Sepulcrave who has a pretty crazy character arc and it's my current main WIP, even though its a personal project.

Eye of the Falcon King (working title)

A secondary-world medieval fantasy novel about identity, rebellion, and manipulation. In a world where some few people have the ability to shape-shift into birds, the king seeks out these people to be his personal servants, messengers and spies. Turik is a young boy able to turn into a falcon and becomes a member of the King's circle. But after a tragedy befalls his best friend it begins to become apparent that the king is not as benevolent as he seems and Turik must come to terms with the knowledge that his reality is a lie. This book is about breaking free from manipulative forces, the ways invisible disabilities are ignored and pushed aside, and mostly about how the monarchy is terrible. Also queer people because all my stories have queer characters.

Otherlings (working title)

It's 1875 and Eliza Farthing's twin brother Alexander has just reappeared in her life after seven years. Except he's not her twin, he's her changeling. And Eliza isn't always Eliza, sometimes he's Francis. The world's of the two twins - one fey, one queer - are about to become very intertwined against their wishes. The two have to fight against their family, the police, a morally corrupt scientist, inter-community distrust, and their own dislike for each other, or both of them will never regain the lives they so desperately need and desire. Also there's a circus. The book deals with identity, secrecy, hatred, and community. It's a book about found family, about accepting yourself and others, about not needing to be seen to exist and be worth something. Mostly it's about sticking together despite your differences.

So that's my current WIPs! I'll add more as I get them, but that's all for now! Thank you for taking an interest in my work and if you have any questions, don't hesitate to send me an ask :)

Tags I use

#legend of the rat bastards, #eye of the falcon king, #ask dandelion-jester #feypocalypse #otherlings novel

#writblr #writeblr #writeblr intro #intro #wips #my wips #writer #author #writing #legend of the rat bastards #eye of the falcon king #feypocalypse #otherlings novel

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dairyfreenugget · 4 days

Note

That oc with pk is absolutely adorable! What’s the lore for that au and how they got together, if you don’t mind me asking?

Sorry this is a bit late, but thank you!

This is basically a little post game ending AU I made with @demonicintegrity 's help except PK survives (and I also frankenstained our messages together so hopefully it's a coherent story)

Anyway this is super long so I'm putting it under read more

Hollow is sort of aimless and doesn't know what to do with themself now that they've served their purpose so they just. Wander. Until they meet PK and basically decide hey I'm his knight, knights are supposed to protect their kings right? I'll just follow him. Meanwhile, PK's having an awful time and doesn't want anything to do with Hollow but the stubborn bug will. Not. Leave. Him. Alone.

PK also wants them to not be subservient to him and be an actual person and shit but he doesn't know how to go about making that change. First option was avoiding them so they had no choice but to make their own decisions but they just wouldn't. Piss. Off. Second option was just ordering them to be a person. He's not the best at this

Hollow just interprets any suggestion of his as an order and it's one hell of a battle to change that. PK and Hornet essentially try to teach Hollow how to be a person, with mixed results.

Hollow also has a lot of mixed feelings. Hurt and anger mixed with wanting affection and comfort from their parents mixed with feeling they don't deserve that affection and putting them up on a pedestal and treating them as gods and royals instead of parents, any kind of attention or care feels blasphemous to them. They're stubborn and think very badly of themself, still clinging to this idea that they're a tool and are meant to serve. Hell concoction!

They get out of it but. It takes lots of work.

First time they disagree with PK and have an argument, he genuienly celebrates after he cools off. FINALLY they're not just going with anything and everything he says! If only this argument wasn't about Hollow's worth, but...you know. Two step forward one step back.

Hollow also has a mouth now, one The Radiance made. The bottom of their mask shattered to make room for it. They also now have a voice, raspy, rough and painful, and mostly unused because they hate it.

So the first time they use it around PK it's a shock for him

Hollow: Can you stop fucking pacing? The tap tap tapping is going to give me a migraine

PK: Oh, very sorry I just- YOU TALK?

Hollow, nodding:

Pk: since when!?

Hollow: ….. since She was using me to scream

Pk, slapped in the face:

But! On the plus side, now they can eat and taste things. PK's new favourite hobby is getting them new meals to try...for better or for worse,

PK, finding a VERY bitter fruit: "....Hey Hollow, wanna try something?"

Hollow makes a face and that's probably the first time they heard their father genuienly laugh

Proceeds to eat fruit out of his hand like a horse.

And then just. Keeps the fruit there after one chew.

“….. you can spit it out if out if you need too.”

“………. -slowly let’s it slide out of mouth and onto the ground-“

Looks at their father with an absolute look of betrayal

“……..”

“…….. some people like bitter fruits.”

"You could have warned me. You knew."

But their favourite food is berries :] Any berries, as long as they're not bitter. Will wat them right off the branches, often with leaves and stuff because they don't feel like picking them off.

He ans Hornet also teach Hollow how to hunt. And they proceed to hunt regularly for their entire family (the poor tiktik population...)

They just drop a dead bug on their mother's lap all proud and she makes a face

WL: Thank you, but-

PK, through their mind link: DON'T YOU DARE

WL, also through their link: But I don't need to eat with my mouth!

PK: THEY DON'T NEED TO KNOW THAT, LOOK AT THAT FACE!

Hollow, waiting for the rest of her sentence: …….?

Wl: …. I’ll get to it in a moment dear, not super hungry at the moment

Hollow, still pleased with this:

PK helps her burry it so she can absorb it through her roots

PK eventually tells them and they start burying their kills and helps PK keep the soil nutrients rich for their mum

At least once a day Wl looks down and feels hollow digging a hole for their kill for her

Eventually she pats their head and tells them that decomposition, even with her roots, isn’t as fast as eating. So she really doesn’t need a substantial kill each day

Starts giving their dad kills every day instead

Pk, internally wondering about the ecological impact his kid might be having:

Hollow is an invasive species

Gets them to be occupied with something

But their family quickly tries to figure out a different possible hobby before they decimate the local wildlife population

Hornet and Pk at least keep moving around so they have to spend time finding them

Hornet: one day you’re gonna get caught in one of my traps I swear

Hollow: Nu uh

OH PK trying to get them to treat him like family and not authority and I think Hollow going to sleep in the nest he made for them right next to his would be a pretty big step

Because previously being close to him felt wrong, blasphemous, knights aren't supposed to sleep in the same den as their Kings, they're supposed to have their own quarters

Especially since they’ve never really. Seen him sleep before

After first they’re tempted to sit up, still play guard, but Pk tells them to lay down and rest. Put that fucker in a headlock because they absolutely will follow their old programming otherwise

Pk opens eye and sees they’re laying down but clearly just watching him and not actually sleeping.

Just baps their face.

“Sleep”

And keeps his hand their as he closes his eyes

His hand fits squarely between their big eyes

A scene I thought up that I kinda wanna draw (but probably won't)

Hollow's going Through It and PK doesn't know what to do so he just wraps himself around them and hopes physical contact will help calm them down

This is the first full on affection he showed to them aside from that one time he kept his hand on their head as they slept

And Hollow just. Starts crying

They don't know why, their chest just feels tight and...hurts. They didn't realise how much they just wanted a hug from him all these years

"...D...dad..." They croak out in their broken, rough voice between their sobs

It felt like a hit aimed right at his heart, clawing his chest open. They never called him that before. He curls tighter around them and shifts to place a gentle lick on their forehead

"Shhh," He nuzzled them, "It's okay. It's okay, Hollow. I'm right here."

Hollow chewing PK's tail like one of these necklace stim toys and PK doesn't mind because his chitin is extremely hard

He's just doing his own thing while his kid is chewing and growling

PK absentmindedly moving his tail while he works on something and Hollow's playing with it

He only notices when he moves it further than usual and Hollow zooms across the den to catch it

Looks over and Hollow's staring at his tail like O_O

Has to move his tail a couple times to confirm that yes, hollow is zooming

“You’re just like your sister when she was little” (Bold words from somebody who would also get zoomies if his wife put a root in front of his face)

Hollow is also only a nickname, they don't have a proper name and go by their title The Hollow Knight. Others aren't happy about it either but Hollow doesn't care about picking a name. File this in your brain for later, it'll be important in just a second.

Anyway. Hollow has kids.

yknow how some trees when damaged or moved they lay down a ton of seeds to make up for potentially dying? They realize Hornet is missing from the whole silksong shenanigans after growing and being basically okay and better.

Stress and drop some seeds before going to look for her.

And then coming back and seeing some weird ass sprouts in their house/den/whatever

Trips on a growing sprout as they come back home to have their first night of sleep in like three months.

just faceplants and goes yeah its naptime right here

Wakes up to like. 5 whole children

most of them look v v much like a bby Hollow so for a good thirty seconds they think theyre still asleep and just kinda groggy

Gonna panic and scoop the babies up and head for the first family member they can find

"Dad I need help"

"What is it Ho- WHAT IN THE WORLD???"

Hornet, who also just woke up because she just had her first night of full sleep in months: huh

Hornet, not ready to unpack this: Theyre not hungry not injuried and responsive?

Hollow, nodding:

Hornet, rolling over: okay cool its a tomorrow problem then

Oh so helpful sister

Hollow: I don't wanna be a parent :( I can barely take care of myself

PK, looking at the five babies in their arms: I think it's a bit late for that

Hollow: How did this even happen

PK: i dunno youre the one who procreated. Whos the other parent??

Hollow: i dunno I just came back, tripped on a weird plant growing in my den and woke up to them.

Pk: ........ Here hold them I'm gonna go talk to your mother real quick

They have mother fucking Mary situation on their hands. FIVE Jesus bugs

One hell of a conversation did PK have to have with his wife when they arrived huh

“Our kid had kids it seemed.”

“Oh? I wasn’t aware they were seeing someone.”

“They seemed to have laid roots down and kids spawned kids that way my root.”

“Hm”

Hollow after getting a Root birds and the bees talk: Is there any way to stop that from happening again? I think five is enough for me

WL: Not that I know of

Hollow:[let's out the most miserable Ough known to man]

Luckily the new babies seem well behaved enough. And just kinda. Want to be on or around Hollow.

Dont seem to demand much

Theyre gonna be shocked when five little peeps are just babbling in void speech tho

Hollow decides that maybe being a parent isn't so bad once they figure out they can get the babies to torment their grandpa

the psychic damage pk receives bc they look so so similar to a bby hollow. Affectionately calls them the clones because of that

Another nickname is the terrors because they WILL try to maul him

Hornet, next time she sees the babies and is playing is one of them: Have you named them yet? Hallownestians name their babies right?

Hollow: Spawn one through five.

Hornet: fu-....God help me. Just one through five??

Hollow, nodding and pointing to each kid and knowing which is who:

They dont know how to name. they were never named. they were only ever given titles. described. they dont know how to name. But they know how to observe. One was the first one they saw when they woke up, and so on.

But theyll be observant. the curious one. the chatty one. the active one. theyll all be known.

PK is gonna dig through the Hallownest ruins in desperation to find a damn names book

Maybe recruits Hornet to help

Hornet: Here

Hollow: What's that?

PK: A book of names. You are not naming my first grandchildren One through Five

Hollow: they are getting titles! As they grow!

Pk and Hornet: huh????

Hollow: The first one, they are the curious one. They explore the most, and always want to see what im doing. They like to be picked up to be tall. This second one, the chatty one. Constantly chirping and poking through the void. They will wake their siblings if theyre awake first.

Hornet: That's hardly any better! Titles aren't names either

Hollow: Well, you call me Hollow, don't you?

PK, having a horrible realisation:

Hornet: ............. ohhhhh shiiiittt......

Pk:

Hollow: It's fine. They will earn many nice titles growing up.

Hornet: okay. I get like, Deepnest does the naming after getting to know them but thats a name. Not a collection of random adjectives.

Hollow: Its not random I know them.

PK: ..........I need to find some sort of still living therapist, I swear........

Hollow: Huh???

But the numbers/titles stick. Hollow is one stubborn bitch

One is the curious one, the explorer. Two is chatty, likes to be social. Three is clingy and shy and just wants to be with someone at all times, but if you're not their siblings, parent, grandpa, grandpa or auntie they will NOT like you. Four is a menace, just a little mischievous bug. And Five is the brave one, tries to be the leader and protector of their siblings, has a stick for a "nail" because they wanna be a knight like their parent and brave protector like their auntie.

The mini Hollows are cute. The group of them like to sit in the dirt and watch.

Gets to plan a whole attack on grandpa or auntie

With an excuse of teaching them to hunt and defend themselves early

pk will never see it coming

many of the babies like to dig.

Dig holes. Dig tunnels. Dig and bury themselves in dirt.

Gonna break his damn leg on one of the holes one day when he's visiting Hollow and the grandterrors

menace number four, stepping right on top of every healed wound on Hollow as they climb across them simply trying to lay down and rest:

Hollow:

Hollow: ah

I think it'd be cute if PK teaches them how to groom the babies. He still remembers something from raising Hornet so he helps somewhat. so many wriggly babies to try and keep clean challenge (impossible. they yearn for the dirt)

Nr 1 squeaks and squals in protest and wiggles as grandpa cleans them

They don't wanna be CLEAN they wanna go explore and play in the dirt >:[

Hornet told Hollow once that its important for children to explore and look at different things and see different places.

So they would saddle them all up on their back and go on field trips.

Number four would try to eat a crystal in the mine

It makes pk happy because its actually really encouraging hollow to go out more often and plan to do different things

Whenever they stumble onto each other when they're like that he jokes that the stag of little terrors has arrived

"okay. Attack"

"Wait-"

Pk can fly so it saves him if he reacts fast enough

Grandpa won't play with them?

Cruel and unusual punishment

they cheep and try to chase after him in the air

They do not pay attention and run right into a sewer in the city and make Hollow panic

The children are alright but both pk and hollow panic for a good moment

and they need a proper bath now

The One Time the terrors would like a bath time

But neither their parent nor grandpa want to groom them so into the fountain or lake they go

Poor things get pulled out a shivering wet sad mess

PK: Maybe now you won't try to maul grandpa

Hollow: Nah, just look where you're going when trying to kill

They all immediately climb onto Hollow and shove their little faces into them. No more wet time its time to get out of the rain.

The 5 menaces start attacking PK on their own accord when they grow up enough. Hollow taught them well (PK doesn't agree)

They also eat out of hands like horses, just like their parent. The Foals 💜

PK is feeding the babies berries out of his hand and suddenly mama's looming over him also, waiting for a treat

PK: ...Seriously, you need to think up some names, I'm not calling them numbers

Hollow: They'll get titles with time, it's alright

PK: Titles are not names

Hollow: They're just as good

PK: Hollow-

Hollow: Pale

PK: 🧍

Hollow: ..... thats what I thought

PK: What if we'll find you a name also? Wouldn't you like one?

Hollow: Eh, I'm used to Hollow by now

PK: 🧍

number one would be fascinated by eyes and try. to touch. Bother grandpa. "Please dont"

The five are so used to mama not being warm and then they discover the joy of warm toasty cuddles with auntie and grandparents

Hollow gets abandoned SO fast

Must absorb all warmth

Hollow: The betrayal. My own children. Stabbed me in the back.

PK with babies piled on top of him (and Hornet): Don't be dramatic

Hollow slowly just scruffs a baby one at a time to pull back into their own nest

They're gonna SCREAM for WARMTH. CRUEL PARENT. TAKING THEM AWAY FROM BEING COSY AND TOASTY

plops them in blankets and tells them theyre fine. Hornet and PK can't help but be amused

Mx. "I don't want to be a parent" now being super doting and jealous whenever their babies aren't with them

these are their babies. Their babies who they know well and take good care of thank you very much

They're SO gonna get teased for that. A typical protective wyrm parent. It's cute

Hornet makes the babies little sweaters or cloaks

They're all a little different

From insight from Hollow on their personalities and what they like

theyre all silent/can only speak in void. So gauging some personality needed some help.

Hollow is so pleased they all like their new cloaks.

And they deny endlessly that they need a new on. But Hornet gets them a new one anyways

The kiddos make dirtmouth so lively once theyre old enough to play outside more

Okay back to the canon characters and the angst,

PK often babysits the 5 to give Hollow a break, and during one night when they're staying with him he has a nightmare about Hollow killing him. Wakes up startled and panting.

He feels like he would deserve that fate but the nightmare still felt so horrifying and real, and he just stays there shaking and wonders if the anger and hatred he saw in his dream is really how Hollow feels and they've just been tolerating him at best in actuality

His grandkids were sleeping with him, so he just looks down at the baby currently in his arms and just buries his face in them

He loves these five so so damn much, he wonders if they love him too- he wonders how Hollow can even tolerate him around their young

He just nuzzles into the baby in his arms, trying to forget about his brewing thoughts and fall back asleep

Hollow definitely had some wildly complicated feelings about him, their relationship was very volatile at times, and they for sure felt anger at him for what he's done to them

But it's been years now that they've spent bonding together, years to heal and grow a more proper father-child relationship, and with time they've learned to stop seeing him as a king creator but their father, and they learned to love him like one too

They're just not an overly affectionate person, but they're generally a complete recluse so the fact that they spend so much time with him is a testament to their love for him, he just haven't seen it yet. He didn't really get many opportunities to see how Hollow is with most people so he doesn't realise just how differently they treat him, Hornet, White Lady and their children.

And yeah, they won't lie, their relationship is rocky at times and he did massively fuck up in the past, but they still love him and see him as their father.

Had they found out about his nightmares they'd just lie with him and gently nudge their muzzle against his hand, maybe even worming their snout under it so he can hold his hand on their mask like that one time, hoping that this gesture would be enough to make him realise

And it would be

Also he is Very bothered by them still going by The Hollow Knight alone while they couldn't care either way

He'd bring it up again and they just look at him

"You really want me to have a name?"

"That...would be better, I think."

"Okay. Name me, then."

"...what?"

"You're my father. I don't have a name because you never gave me one, so if you want me to have one you should give it to me."

"But...me? Why me?"

"You're my father."

"I know that, but... I don't think I deserve to- Wouldn't you like to name yourself?"

They shake their head, "I do not care either way. I am just fine continuing to go by The Hollow Knight, I would also accept any name you pick for me, I truly don't feel strongly about this."

"But- I- why wouldn't you want to choose? I picked that title for you, I chose the trajectory of your life, I think you should get to choose for once."

"I am choosing. I'm choosing for my father to give me a name. It's Hallownest's tradition for parents to choose names for their hatchlings after they develop their personalities, so if I was to have a name I want it to be a proper one. One my parent would give me."

"...but...why me? Why would you want a name I give you after everything..."

"Doesn't that also apply to my title? The Hollow Knight, or even this nickname Hollow, is something you've given me," They tilt their head, "Is this why you feel so strongly about me choosing a name?"

"..."

Really torn up between continuing to call them Hollow here as shortening of The Hollow Knight or if they should get a name

Because I thought of calling them Echo that that's such a pretty name,, could be named after their quiet disposition

I think they'd be a recluse who doesn't say much and prefers to let their actions speak for themselves, only really talks when spoken to

But for now it's Hollow

I think after Hollow has the five seedlings they might move from living in the ruins of Hallownest and frequently travelling around to the outskirts of Dirtmouth, where they can keep their privacy and relative quietness but where its also considerably safer for the children

Hornet and Pale King would visit frequently, sometimes babysit for them while they go off to have a break (mostly their father, who doesn't mind and even enjoys taking care of these children (he sees this as an opportunity to fix his past mistakes, could never be a father to his child so at least he can help raise his grandchildren), as opposed to Hornet who's probably a very cool aunt but isn't the best with kids in the long run)

I think PK would also settle in Dirtmouth after a while. Spends 50/50 time living there and with his wife

Azalea, the moth, is an old librarian that eventually moved to Dirtmouth after the infection ended. She likes the quiet and keeps to herself, likes to have long conversations over tea, gets along best with Elderbug and PK for that reason...and weirdly enough, somewhat okay with Zote, but only because she likes to listen to people ramble on for hours, he's like a white noise machine to her but she has 0 clue what bro's yapping about.

She meets PK after Hollow moves to Dirtmouth with their seedlings. PK naturally visited them often and even stayed over to help take care of the kids, eventually moving there. They happened to stumble on each other while he was with his grandkids and started chatting. Their love is slow burning they first became friends and slowly came to take care for each other more than that, but it takes PK a long while to realise she's into him and he feels the same. She also eventually learns of his past and doesn't care much, doesn't treat him differently because he was a king, which is a huge relief to him. She enjoys his company and loves flying with him, she rarely gets to do that with anyone anymore. WL is very encouraging to PK about pursuing this relationship, but for a long while he didn't because he had convinced himself that she only sees him as a friend (it won't stop Azalea from making jokes that she's the second woman in the relationship/a mistress). Eventually she gets to meet WL too and they get along, swap funny stories about PK over tea. Eventually Azalea and WL become an item too, but similarly to her with PK it takes a while for them to get together.

Also I've been very tempted to keep Radiance alive for this AU because her reaction and feelings towards 1 out of 2 of her last surviving moths being with HIM would be very entertaining. Azalea doesn't remember their old goddess and would think she's just an ordinary moth and tries to make friends with her because there's so few of their people nowadays, it's good to have somebody you relate to! She occassionaly mentions her lovely centipede boyfriend and Radi truly couldn't give two shits, until she finds out who he is. PK also becomes very protective of Azalea after finding out Radi's alive, suddenly becomes very comfortable with PDA when she's around KDHDBDV Azalea doesn't mind and finds it amusing, but also why is he so clingy all of the sudden?

That's roughly everything :] This AU doesn't have a name yet so. If you have any ideas feel free to propose something

#thylacines can talk #asks #my ocs #oc: azalea #oc: one #oc: two #oc: three #oc: four #oc: five

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