#jonquil darke x reader

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Shadow, Shield, Snake and Sword

Jonquil Darke x fem!princess readers

warning : fluff, comfort, small wound, reader is female, no use of Y/n

Summary : The Scarlet Shadow, or the Scarlet Strike. The noble woman of House Darke chosen to protect the queen and watch over the princesses…but what if a princess misjudges the snake's bite? Could it be that a shadow, a nobody and at the same time the only somebody might feel more than just protecting the princess?

Info : Ohh I love Jonquil such an impressive character in the book plus her titles are badass…so yeah enjoy reading ;)

masterlist

cover by me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The shadows lay in every castle in Westeros, shadows were what kept the inhabitants safe from attackers, but they also made them afraid because it was the unknown that lingered in the shadows.

A shadow, a scarlet shadow that took place at the tournament of the golden wedding between Jahaerys and his sister consort Alysanne.

A shadow can be anything - a figure, a person, an animal or an object - everything casts a shadow, everything and everyone, and so love will also cast a shadow.

A scarlet shadow wrapped in armor at some point in the tournament, defeated and disarmed, the mysterious knight revealed his face and caused the smallfolk to marvel and praise.

A woman who would become the Scarlet Shadow of the Queen just two years later in 51 after Aegon's conquest.

The woman in the red armor who was always behind the queen, her one hand always on the hilt of her sword and her dark eyes fixed on anything that posed a threat while her lips curled into a slight knowing smile. But it was that smile and that look of shadow that would settle on one of the princesses years later.

Time passed and almost two years later the kingdom had several princes and especially princesses who all served the kingdom to marry, to become heroes and to make the king and his queen lose their last nerve and faith in the conquerors.

But it was also a time when one of the princesses, one of the older ones who was not filled with the rebellious thoughts of her sisters, seemed to be in danger of being forgotten between the pages of fate.

An inconspicuous princess, almost like a shadow of her own, white and transparent, invisible and yet always there. In addition, she was always visible to the Serpent, the scarlet-colored shadow following the white, dark eyes showing more and more amusement when she saw the princess's violet eyes looking at her.

Out from behind a bush, behind the werwood tree or behind the flowers of the garden. The princess, the white shadow as the older one called her, was not a shadow, she was a princess who seemed to have lost her thoughts about her.

She's not training precisely again, not even in the slightest thought the older one as she made her way through the passage towards the garden, her one hand no longer on the sword, knowing that the queen was safe in her chambers by the royal guard.

Her arms crossed in front of her armor-covered chest, she stood in the shadow of the columns that held up the ceiling of the passageway.

If the princess had been paying attention to her surroundings, the clatter of armor could have been heard, but she was too absorbed in slashing at a tall flower with a wooden sword.

A target, a good target if you like, but a target she wasn't aiming at properly. Jonquil's dark eyes still showed something else behind the dark glow of amusement, her duty and her own feelings.

,,You are more clumsy than your brother Vaegon the Bookworm…you are ruining the beauty of the flower," Jonquil said, seeing the younger one startle and finally recognizing the scarlet shadow that emerged from the darkness and came towards her.

She saw the princess adjust her dress and straighten her corset, which had slipped slightly due to her hasty movements. ,,Still a beauty," the older one assured her and saw how her assurance made the princess smile.

She pointed with her hand at the wooden sword the white shadow handed her, her violet eyes eagerly watching as she twirled the light sword in contrast to the metal one, threw it up and did a few simple positions with it. ,,Your sword skill my lady is truly impressive…could you teach me a little of it?" she asked after a moment's hesitation, hearing the slight smirk of the guard looking at her. Darkness met light.

A nobody met a somebody. Before the wooden sword was suddenly placed in the hands of the princess, Jonquil stood behind the high-born one, gently almost barely touching her, a light touch like a shadow, a certainty that she was there…always would be. ,,It's an honor my dear princess," she whispered, hearing the surprised gasp as they came so close before her glove-covered hands came to rest on the princess'.

The Targaryen felt the coldness of the leather, the darkness cast by the shadow and yet the heartbeat that matched hers. It was something indescribable…something that did not exist between such devotion, perhaps even love, depending on what you wanted and should call it.

,,The flower is small and inconspicuous, yet there is a power in it, a power that can cut through a swift sword," she read, and from the shadows the princess made a precise move on the stem that would have been severed had the princess not stopped at the last moment.

,,If-if you wish, it can kill," the violet-eyed girl said, looking slightly behind her at the appreciative face that drew a smile, ,,If it can be gentle and make the opponent dance," she continued, repositioning herself slightly before the shadow rolled out again.

The sword moved towards the flower and stopped in front of the stem again and the princess used her sweet tongue to nudge the flower and make it dance in a swinging motion.

,,A dance that eventually weakens and then," she began, not even realizing how the shadow had decapitated itself behind her and let the princess do it, ,,and then death comes," Jonquil finished the sentence and watched as the princess cut through the air with the sword made of wood and the flower's head lay on the flat tip of the sword.

Silence fell for a moment before a joyful ,,I did it!" came from the princess, who presented the sword and the flower to the guardian.

Before Jonquil took the scarlet-colored flower and came closer to the princess, she tucked the silver-blue hair behind the younger girl's ear and put the flower behind her ear. ,,And now the prize is yours," she said, letting her fingers linger on the princess's cheek for a moment before releasing the moment of temptation and giving her hand a gentle squeeze instead.

,,The dragon in you is strong, pretty princess, keep training in the shade of the weirwood tree and the shadow will come on its own," she reminded her, her dark eyes casting a knowing look before she pulled back, her hand returning to the hilt of her metal sword and the scarlet shadow disappearing into the shadows of the royal family.

But the viper had seen the princess's look of admiration and something like devoted love…it was only a matter of time before the scarlet shadow would settle on the princess again.

In the garden, where only the flowers bore witness to the two shadows that grew closer and closer with each disappearance and reappearance and would become one.

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #fire and blood #jonquil darke #jonquil darke x reader #female x female #reader is female #targaryentuesday

[andypantsx3]

Deceiving the Duke | 6 | Todoroki Shouto

pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Female Reader

length: 3.1k of 30k words | 6th of 9 chapters

summary: When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

tags/warnings: romance, regency au, class differences, hidden identity/identity porn, aged up characters, eventual smut

Over the course of the ensuing weeks, your certainty only grew worse: you were developing feelings for Lord Shouto.

You sent another letter to Camie, ashamed to tell her that not only had you continued the scheme against her express wishes, but now you were falling for the worst person possible. She wrote back, heartbroken to hear it, demanding once more you put a stop to things before they went too far.

But you couldn’t help yourself. You would never again get time with Lord Shouto–you wanted to revel in it as long as you could.

You reassured yourself that he meant to marry the princess–a rumor that was only growing stronger as the season crept onwards with no hint of a proposal to anyone from his corner–and he meant only to use you as a deterrent to the other scheming misses and matchmaking mothers crowding the parlors and assembly rooms of Musutafu.

You hoped that once your own scheme was uncovered he wouldn’t hold it against you–would understand that you’d liked spending the time with him, but had never desired to trap him in any sort of romantic understanding.

Lord Shouto made things so much more difficult for you by continuing to be so horribly good. He was kind and attentive, and so unexpectedly funny, you couldn’t help but fall harder.

He sought you out many times a week, taking you for several more promenades, insisting on a dance at every ball, and even took you riding in the park. He even let you take the reins when you’d reached an emptier stretch of road where no one might see you driving, showing you how to steer his set of bays and smiling that gentle smile when you got the hang of it and urged them to go faster.

He called several times more, bringing another bouquet of flowers for you–tiny bright jonquils tangled with orange winter cherries, and hedged with short-trimmed ferns–that you managed to squirrel away into your tiny bedroom without the Utsushimis seeing.

He was on your mind so constantly that you found yourself ducking into the haberdashery on an afternoon Miss Uraraka and Lady Asui had invited you out. An idea seized you as you had looked into the window, and you found yourself drawn over to the small selection of handkerchiefs for sale.

You didn’t have much in the way of spending money, sending most of it back to your family, but you had just enough to buy a linen square bordered in a dark blue. Miss Ochako and Lady Asui watched you almost too knowingly as you did.

You worked late into the night that evening, tucked up in your bed with embroidery thread and a book you’d ferreted out of the late Mr. Utsushimi’s study propped open in your lap–a Greek primer, with a tiny section on Ancient Greek. You found that their phonetic system did not align quite so neatly with yours, but you made do, stitching the closest approximation of Lord Shouto’s name in the Greek alphabet–how it might be spelled had he found himself there.

You hoped he would find it fun, and not too silly–-and that he would understand that you had liked him enough to think of him, even when your deception was uncovered.

Giving to him was another matter, however, as you found yourself too shy and girlish on the several occasions you saw him next. It stayed tucked away in your reticule, burning at your wrist.

You finally resolved to give it to him at a dinner party at Lady Cathleen’s, where you might hopefully be able to flee to the other end of the table and not speak to him for the rest of the night. Caroline had informed you that tables were set according to rank, meaning the Utsushimi family would find themselves at the foot of the table, with Lord Shouto all the way at the head.

In preparation, you donned the most secure of Camie’s gowns—which was not saying much—but you felt better for the more protective, higher neckline, the muted blue of its color which would draw little attention your way, for it almost bordered on the drab palette of married women or spinsters. You knew Camie had chosen it for the contrast it would draw to her largest, sparkliest choker of paste jewels, which you carefully ignored in favor of her smallest pendant.

You would be as well hidden as you could manage, at the other end of the table, and with any luck Lady Cathleen would dress her table with elaborately tall candlesticks and floral displays you might duck behind.

In fact, once you thought of it, you were almost certain you could hide Lord Shouto’s gift at the table itself, that you might not have to confront him in person with the full force of both your stupidity and your regard for him. You wouldn’t even need to witness his expression upon its receipt.

It was with that thought that you stuck to the edges of the drawing room as guests crowded into Lady Cathleen’s estate, drawing as little notice as you could. You requested the restroom as soon as you were able, instead sneaking off towards the dining room to scout out Lord Shouto’s place.

Except—as you scanned the head of the table–his place card was nowhere to be found. You knew he was coming–Mrs. Utsushimi hadn’t shut up about it, and besides that, Lord Shouto had told you as much himself. Brow furrowing, you wandered around the table.

A little shocked thrill went through you to see his name next to Camie’s, towards the opposite end of the table he should have been. Camie’s name also had managed to come unmoored from the Utsushimi block that occupied the end of the table, several seats away from Caroline and Mrs Utsushimi.

You wondered at the specificity of the mistake, and then a thought occurred to you.

Well–if there had been a mistake, it only made sense to use it to your advantage.

You quickly tucked your gift under Lord Shouto’s place card, very carefully that it might only be seen once he’d moved it. And then you took your own place card away and carried it down the table to Caroline’s spot. You’d just managed to replace hers with yours when a low voice carried across the room.

“I suppose I should be less surprised to find you in another deserted room.”

You froze, arm still outstretched over Caroline’s seat, your eyes darting up to the entryway. Lord Shouto stood there, looking as preternaturally handsome as ever. The candlelight glinted off the white of his hair, burnishing it gold, and the shadows danced in the hollows of his cheeks, the divot under his full mouth. He was dressed in a dark gray dinner jacket, a cravat tied immaculately at his throat.

He took a step into the room, a white eyebrow raised.

“Lord Shouto,” you said hoarsely, quickly whipping Caroline’s card behind your back. Perhaps he hadn’t seen what you’d been up to. “I—it’s not what it looks like.”

“Then you are not rearranging Lady Cathleen’s seating placards?” he asked in his smooth baritone. He continued into the room, circling the table to you.

A hunted feeling crept over you. “I–it’s funny it should look that way…but I, um…”

Lord Shouto drew closer, leaning in, and a gloved hand touched the place card in your fingers, tugging it gently from your grasp. He glanced down at it, a tiny smile touching his mouth. “You’d not been about to seat Miss Caroline next to me, had you?”

His gaze darted over to the middle of the table where his placard sat, like he’d already known there’d been some mistake with his placement.

Hot embarrassment burned its way through your veins, and you snatched Caroline’s place marking out of his hand. “As a matter of fact, the only empty spot is next to you,” you said, attempting to make your way around him to put it down.

“And that would not be because you had already moved another place card, would it?” Lord Shouto asked mildly, stepping in front of you so that you almost headbutted his chest. You backpedaled wildly, almost tripping over the hem of your gown.

“I—what proof have you?” you demanded, trying your best to sound as though you hadn’t just done exactly that.

Lord Shouto’s smile widened, a rare sight, and it sent a lick of heat right down your spine. You clutched a chair, aware of how stupid it was that a smile was about to send you into a swoon.

Those long fingers reached out and pulled Caroline’s place card from your grip again, and Lord Shouto produced your own, switching your places once more. “The proof that I asked Lady Cathleen to seat me here, with you,” he said simply.

A horde of butterflies exploded in your chest again, and your face went hot.

How could he say things like that so easily? An ask like that was a clear declaration of his favor–something you very much did not deserve, all things considered.

“Your Grace,” you said, in protest.

Lord Shouto’s smile flashed white in the candlelight, a clever half-moon. “It was you who doubted I might reign in my presumption by the end of the season. You should be pleased to find yourself proven right.”

Pleased didn’t quite cover the breadth of emotion you were feeling–embarrassment, guilt, and pleasure all warred with one another in your chest.

“Really, I was doing you a favor,” you insisted, gesturing at Caroline’s place setting. “She is a great conversationalist, and very pleasing to look at.”

“As you have said perhaps hundreds of times,” Lord Shouto acknowledged. “It is just as well I can look at her from across a table.”

You frowned up at him. “I am beginning to think you do not mean to find a wife, as you’d hinted.”

Lord Shouto bent his head so he could lean closer, and your hip bumped the table as you stepped back, nervous with his sudden proximity.

“Then you did take my meaning that day,” he said, his voice low.

Your skin prickled at the layer of intent in his tone.

“And I am only trying to help you now,” you told him. “You’ll get very little mileage out of me as your dining companion, considering I cannot wed.”

“Cannot,” Lord Shouto murmured, as if turning the word over in his mouth.

“Caroline can, however,” you continued as though you hadn’t heard him. “And I understand she is a very desirable match. She’s acquired several admirers, you know, and you won’t want to dally. There is a Mr. Awase who is very keen.”

“You say it as though you are not a desirable match,” Lord Shouto said.

His words were like a thunderbolt, striking through you. The very idea of you as a desirable match!

You laughed, but Lord Shouto’s face did not change, and he pressed even closer, close enough that you found yourself trapped against the table. Lightning zinged in your veins as you registered the heat of him over you, your blood singing with the thrill of a man so close.

“You do not believe so?” he asked. He was close enough that you could feel the exhalation of his words on your mouth.

Your head swam with the ridiculousness of the question, and the press of him so close. You scrounged around for an appropriate ripost, but then Lord Shouto’s face drew even nearer.

Your breath seized in your chest, and you stared silently up at him, heart racing.

Outside, a loud laugh sounded, startling you, and you jumped, almost smacking your forehead into Lord Shouto’s nose.

He dodged neatly, smiling ruefully and stepping away. But there was a light in his eyes like he was strangely satisfied–as though he’d confirmed something.

“We should go, lest we are discovered here, and your reputation compromised,” he said. “You should take your leave first.”

You could tell he meant to prevent you from switching the place settings again once he was gone, and you squinted at him suspiciously. He looked far too pleased with himself, and his smile seemed to grow a fraction wider. It was your observation that his eyes slivered into little crescents when he truly smiled that finally sent you stumbling out of the dining room, your heartbeat tripping over itself.

You found your absence had gone unnoticed when you arrived back in the drawing room, though Lord Shouto’s entrance was intently noted by every single set of female eyes. Several fans came out, flapping back immaculately coiffed curls, and Lord Shouto’s face went politely blank.

You stifled a laugh at his expense.

Eventually you were let into the dining room and you found yourself at Lord Shouto’s side once more. Lady Cathleen’s eyes flickered interestedly over you and tried not to look too strange or suspicious under her attentions.

You were pointedly studying the table linens with avid interest when you felt Lord Shouto stiffen beside you. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him draw the handkerchief out from under his place card, and you found you couldn’t lift our eyes to his face, too anxious of his reaction. You adopted a sudden fascination with the centerpiece to your opposite side–until a gloved hand touched yours in your lap.

You startled, almost knocking over your water glass, fingers reflexively seizing on the hand that had touched you.

You glanced up at Lord Shouto as his own fingers tightened on yours, and found him smiling that tiny, private smile of his. His gaze was almost molten in the candlelight.

“I see rearranging the place settings was not your only objective,” he said. There was a touch of pleasure in his voice, so rich and low. The sound made your blood fizz like a bottle of champagne had just been poured down your veins.

His hand shifted, his wrist resting on your thigh, and your breathing went shallow at the feeling of a man’s hand where it had never been before.

“I–you might think it’s silly—” you groped for something to say.

“I can think of no gift I have ever liked more,” he said.

The praise flooded through you in a warm wave of pleasure, and your ears went hot. “I…should like if you would think of me fondly, after this season,” you said.

Lord Shouto’s brows creased, and that full mouth pursed a little in thought. You tried very hard not to think of kissing it.

“You say that as if you do not plan we should ever see each other again,” he said carefully.

A hot stab of panic lanced through you when you realized you’d almost hinted at the dissolution of your scheme. You searched for some response.

“I–there is only one objective to the season,” you said. “After a match is made, I’ll have no reason to return to Musutafu, unless my husband’s estate is at a close enough remove.”

“I thought you did not mean to marry?” Lord Shouto asked. You almost jumped again when a server reached between the two of you to serve the first course–a pale soup swimming with carrots and rice.

Fuck, that was right. You had said you’d not meant to make a match. “Do not worry, Lord Shouto. You are safe from any attempts on your virtue.”

But Lord Shouto did not look at all reassured by this. “Then you do wish to marry?” he asked.

You did not see a way around answering truthfully. “I–well, yes, eventually,” you admitted. You had at least had hopes at one point, before meeting Lord Shouto, before understanding that no other man might ever measure up. Gentry though he might be, you’d never felt as light-headed, as happy, as surprisingly comfortable in another person’s presence.

You had not meant to feel quite like this about him.

“One day, I should like to,” you said, trying not to sound morose. One day, a long time from now, perhaps you would have enough distance that you might once again find the prospect of another man palatable.

Lord Shouto’s gloved thumb smoothed over your knuckles, and you realized you’d still been gripping his hand. You reluctantly let go, but he seemed to feel no need to move his hand.

“One day and the end of this season sound rather distant from one another,” Lord Shouto said.

You stared into your soup to avoid having to look at him, guilt settling heavily in your stomach. “It is complicated,” you said. “All there is to know, my lord, is that I plan this should be my last season in Musutafu. And that I should like you to think of me fondly, as I shall think of you. For all that you seem to insist on dwelling in darkened rooms, you have been a bright spot in this season.”

You pointedly studied the silverware, wanting to start in on your soup to halt conversation, but found that you could not remember how Caroline had instructed you to dine. Was it outward in, or inward out?

Your hand hesitated over the silverware, and Lord Shouto’s finally rose from your lap to press gently to the outward-most spoon.

“It’s this one,” he said, leaning in. “Outward in.”

That smile was back on his mouth, and it felt both private and conspiratorial, somehow. Like you shared a secret, though the only secret you had, really, was the one that he absolutely could not have known.

“Of course…” you said primly, like you’d just momentarily forgotten. But your heart warmed a little with his assistance and you couldn’t help the smile that wormed its way across your face in answer. “Thank you.”

Lord Shouto’s eyes seemed to linger on your mouth for a long moment, before he murmured, “Anything I may give you.”

And for a minute, it sounded like he meant more than just help with the spoon. Like he was offering something much larger, much more secret.

But of course that was nonsense. You waved him off, answering in turn. “You are kinder than you know, Lord Shouto. I will remember that too, always.”

You started in on your soup, feeling Lord Shouto’s eyes lingering on you still.

But for the rest of the evening, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d just had a conversation with him whose parameters you did not truly fathom.

That Lord Shouto knew something he couldn’t.

But it wouldn’t matter, with the season so close so its end. You would just have to last a few more weeks.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x you #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto x reader

[vodika-vibes]

Hello! First, I want to congratulate you on your follower celebration! Second, I was hoping to make a request.

Could you do a Crosshair x f!reader with acacia and jonquil?❤️

It Wasn't Love At First Sight

Summary: You've been secretly dating Crosshair for several years now, and so far no one's caught you. But after a late night rendezvous, Shaak Ti figures out the truth.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 1852

Warning: Smut, oral F receiving

Prompts: Acacia - Secret Love, Jonquil - long term loyalty

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: Thank you! And Thank you for the Crosshair request! People were so nice to actually send me Crosshair requests! Also, I hope you don't mind that this got kind of smutty/spicy.

You stir when you hear a knock on your bedroom door, waking you from a deep sleep. A groan of annoyance falls from your lips, but you roll out of bed, and stumble over to the door, pressing the button to unlock it.

Crosshair, dressed in his dark armor and holding his helmet, is standing on the other side. 

You blink at him blearily, “Cross?”

“Let me in, kitten, before I get caught.” He replies.

You yawn and move out of the way, allowing him to slide past you and into your private room. “What,” You pause as you yawn widely, “What’s wrong?” You ask.

“I wanted to see you,” Crosshair replies as he tosses his helmet on your bed, and then turns his dark gaze towards you, “Is that a problem?” He asks with an arched brow.

You yawn again, “You couldn’t have waited until morning?”

He lazily moves towards you, his strong arms sliding around your waist, and he lowers his head to press his face against your neck. You shiver when you feel his lips ghost across your skin, “Mm, you didn’t miss me at all?” Crosshair asks.

A soft hum leaves you, and then you wrap your arms around him, one of your hands tangling in his short hair. “Hardly noticed you were gone.” You say lightly as you press closer to him.

Crosshair chuckles low in his throat, “Is that right?” He lightly nips at your throat, “So all of the comms and holos you sent me were, what, figments of my imagination?”

“Must have been someone else.”

“Ah, so I should go and find them then.” Crosshair teases, he kisses the mark he left on your neck, and then pulls away to press his forehead against yours, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, “You got a holo code for them? I owe them about a month's worth of blue balls.”

“You poor thing,” You coo to him teasingly, “Your hand wasn’t good enough for you?”

“What can I say, I’m a man of discerning taste.”

You lightly scrape your fingers against his scalp, and he sighs under your touch, “Welcome back, Cross.” You whisper to him, “I missed you.”

“I know.” His lips curl into a small, but genuine, smile, “I missed you too.”

“Good.” You reply.

A soft laugh falls from him, and you think you love this Crosshair the most. When it’s just you and him, and there’s no need for any facade. When he allows himself to be warm and soft and loving, and when he allows you to be just as soft and loving right back to him. 

It doesn’t happen often. In fact, the only time you see him like this is right after he returns from being gone for long periods of time. 

It’s rare, and so you cherish it.

“You could start coming on missions with us,” Crosshair murmurs, “And then I won’t miss you so much.”

“But then we won’t have these little reunions,” You reply as you press a light kiss to his chin, “And then what would we do?”

He tilts his head so that his lips hover just over yours, “Or, we could have these reunions more often.”

“Mm, tempting.” You raise up onto your toes and press your lips against his, and Crosshair immediately responds, his grip around you tightening to an almost painful degree as he nips your lower lip, silently demanding that you give yourself to him.

As if he has to make such a demand, you’ve been his since the day you arrived on Kamino. And he’s been yours for just as long.

He walks you backwards toward your bed, and your fingers nimbly pop the seals of his armor, dropping the pieces on the floor with a careless unconcern that belies how much you care about his armor.

It keeps him alive, after all.

Crosshair absently pushes his helmet to the floor, and then lowers you to the bed, refusing to pull his lips away from yours for long enough to even remove your shirt, instead just pushing it up high enough that he’s able to touch everything that he wants.

You pull away from the kiss to catch your breath, “H-how long before Hunter starts looking for you?” You breathe out, a whine falling from your lips as he moves to a spot on your neck that never fails to make you whimper for him. 

“Not long enough,” Crosshair admits, “Probably shouldn’t have come here at all. But I needed to see you.” He pulls away enough that he’s hovering over you, “Wrecker got hurt, and Hunter’s a little overprotective right now.” His dark eyes scan you, spread out in front of him, half naked, and he glides his fingers across your ribs. “Tell me to leave, kitten.” He whispers.

You lick your lips, and watch as his gaze tracks the motion, “You should leave.” You whisper obediently, though you also hook your arms around his neck to pull him back down to feel his warmth against you.

“Kriff,” He curses, “Yeah. I should.” 

Crosshair pulls the top of his blacks off, and tosses them to the side, and then his hands move to the band of your sleep pants to ease them down your legs. 

“I can see you’re getting right on that.” You breathe out, gasping when one of his fingers slides against your slit.

His gaze locks with yours, and a small smirk crosses his face, “Just one taste,” Crosshair says, “Just one. And then I’ll leave.”

He slides down your body and drapes one of your legs over his shoulders, his gaze still locked on your face as he leans in and wraps his lips around your clit.

Crosshair lied.

“Good morning, Doctor.” 

You lift your gaze from your caf and peer up at the much taller woman who’s joining you at your small table. “Morning, Shaak.” You mumble, before turning your attention back to the flavor packets, trying to decide if you want mocha or caramel caf this morning.

The Jedi has a secretive smile on her lips, “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, something like that. Do you think the peppermint syrup is still good? When did we buy that?”

“Hm…probably around Life Day, so who knows.” Shaak replies, “I wouldn’t risk it personally, but I also don’t understand how you can drink that.”

“I learned in med school.” You pick up the peppermint syrup and eye it critically, before you pour some in your caf. If you die you die. At least you’ll die caffeinated. 

“Hm.” Shaak takes a sip of her tea, looking like an actual queen. “How’s Crosshair?”

You blink at her, “Beg pardon?”

“Well, I know he went to your room last night and didn’t leave until early this morning-” Shaak says with a small smile.

“Uhhh…Am I allowed to say no comment?”

“Assuming it’s all consensual, I’m not going to yell at you.” She pauses, “It is consensual, right?”

“Of course it is, don’t be gross.”

“Then I’m more than happy to keep your secret.” Shaak says lightly. “May I ask…is it serious.”

“Oh my god, Shaak. I’m not talking to you about this.”

“Who else do you have to talk to about this?” Shaak asks reasonably, smirking when she sees you falter, “So? Is it?”

“Fine. Yes. It is. Can we stop now?”

“And you’re not seeing other people?”

“No! Of course not. I’m loyal to him and him alone.” You push your hand through your hair, “Shaak, look. I’ve loved him since the first time I saw him. It might not have been love at first sight, but it was pretty damn sure at first sight, okay?”

“Aww, that’s cute.”

“Ugh. I’m not cute. Cute is reserved for five year old girls, not women.”

Shaak smiles wider, “Does he feel the same?”

“How am I supposed to know? Do I look like a jedi to you?”

“I don’t know if you know this, but Crosshair doesn’t like talking about emotions.” You say dryly.

“Hm…good point.”

You eye the older woman suspiciously, but she seems like she’s done with the conversation, so instead you pick up your caf and take a sip.

And then a strong hand wraps around your upper arm and you’re dragged, unceremoniously, out of your seat by the Jedi. You yelp as you’re dragged into the hall, down another hall, and then through a sliding door into the darkened barracks room belonging to Clone Force 99.

“Good morning, boys~” Shaak chirps, before she unceremoniously shoves you into Crosshair, who’s forced to drop his armor to catch you.

You blink at Crosshair, absolutely befuddled, and he looks just as bewildered as you.

“Uh…General?” Hunter says slowly, “Is there a reason you’re throwing Doctors at us?” He asks as Crosshair lifts you to your feet and makes sure that you’re steady before he releases you.

“I have come to a decision,” Shaak says with a placid smile on her face, “Because of the missions you go on, I’ve decided you should have a doctor on your team. And I’m giving you her.”

You sputter, “You can’t do that!”

“I don’t have a problem with that.” Crosshair says at the same time, “It’ll save us from Hunter’s overprotective tendencies.”

You scowl at Crosshair, “The Jedi don’t pay my paycheck!”

“No, but the Kaminoans have a vested interest in making sure this group thrives.” Shaak points out, “So they’ll side with me.”

Your jaw drops, and then you sigh and fold your arms, “Fine. But the Marauder needs to be retrofitted with a proper medbay including a surgical suite. And I’m not sharing a room with them.”

“You’re being difficult, Doctor.”

“You want me to be Clone Force 99’s personal doctor, those are my conditions.” You say stubbornly.

Shaak grins, “Deal. It’ll be done before their next mission.” And then she’s gone.

You purse your lips and then turn and punch Crosshair on the shoulder, “This is your fault.”

He grins, a glimmer of triumph in his gaze, “I assure you, it isn’t.”

You scowl at him.

His grin broadens, “Cheer up, kitten. Now we can spend more time together.”

“Trapped in a metal can with five men is not my idea of a good time.” You counter, and then you sigh, “I have so much I have to do now. I have to transfer the cadets to other doctors, I have to make sure my files are complete, I have to…” You blink, “I’m not going to sleep for a week. I have to go.”

Crosshair catches your hand and tugs you back to him and kisses you, “Better?”

“I feel slightly less like committing jedicide, but I still have a million things I need to do.” You sigh and kiss his cheek, “And now you have to explain this to your brothers. So we’re both suffering. Love you. Bye.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too. Don’t work too hard.” Crosshair replies, and then you’re gone in a swirl of white coats and lavender scent, and Crosshair is left to deal with his brothers accusing gazes.

#star wars #tbb #vodika-vibes follower celebration #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #18+ fic #clone thirsting #f!reader fic #answered asks

[jaimeslanisters]

the pawn in every lover's game (part ten)

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister!Reader

When you’re ten, your father sends you to King's Landing to befriend a princess and woo a prince. A lioness growing up amongst dragons is a dangerous thing indeed.

crossposted on ao3 masterlist word count: 6.4k notes: late update which is 100% on me so my bad! but anyways, a lovely and beautiful anon made a playlist for this fic so give it a listen! here's a nice reprieve after the drama of the past chapters (:

Once, as children in your library, you had tried to convince Aemond to read the tale of Lady Jonquil and Florian the Fool. He had scoffed at you - it wasn’t the usual history or philosophy the two of you poured over together. It was a silly romance story, nothing to do with the important matters of state he was obsessed with understanding, but you had pressed it upon him to read.

You can still remember pushing your book of songs over his own book about the maesters of the Citadel, determined to present your case. ‘It’s not quite as serious as everything you like to read but it says something about men, I feel. Ser Florian may have been a fool but he was wise where it counted.’

‘Singers and bards are invested in us thinking that, my lady, but I don’t think it’s true,’ he had responded, rolling his eyes, but he had taken your book and read it. He had never once talked about it with you though, simply returning the book to you the next day and distracting you from asking him about it by dragging you into a debate over whether or not Lann the Clever was the bastard son of Floris the Fox or even Rowan Gold-Tree, a topic sure to rile any Westerlander, leaving you to completely forget about silly love songs as you had argued over your ancestor’s own ancestry.

‘I am as great a fool as ever lived, and as great a knight’ Ser Florian had told his lady when he had crowned her. ‘All men are fools and all men are knights where women are concerned.’

With as much love as you have for the songs, you never could quite believe that line, could never make it quite click in your head.

But now, with the screaming all around you, as Aemond stands at your side, arm in arm and having crowned you with a crown of bloodied roses, you wonder if he’s remembering the songs as well as you are, if he’s realizing that maybe the singers were right in some respect.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” You ask, pushing away your thoughts of the Lady Jonquil and her fool of a knight, in favor of looking over him anxiously. He’s bloodstained but you can’t tell how much of it is his and how much of it belongs to his opponent. His dark armor hides most of it, preventing you from picking out any clear wounds or injuries, and, out in the open like this, you can’t glide your hands over him to try and feel any out.

Aemond looks down at you, his eyes soft as he takes in your worry. “No, not hurt. Bruises here and there, some cuts and scrapes that my mother will drive herself insane worrying about, but nothing serious.”

You sigh in relief, leaning against him slightly, wishing you could wrap your arms around him and pull him close. You allow yourself a moment there, pressed against the hard armor, before you pull back, conscious of the eyes of all of King’s Landing watching the two of you. There’s a flicker of disapproval on Aemond’s face when he notices, his jaw tightening just a tick, and he shoots a baleful glare at the crowd.

It reminds you all too much of the way little Loren’s face would scrunch if anyone tried to pull his blanket away from him, right before he let out loud screams and wails that sent the entire household running to his side, and the odd comparison makes you laugh out loud.

Aemond’s brow furrows but his gaze softens once more as he watches your obvious glee.

“My father will be chomping at the bit to arrange a meeting with your mother,” you say after a while, smiling fondly as you look back toward the crowd. The royal box is emptying out and you know you only have moments before both of your families descend upon the two of you. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he tries to secure an… understanding for right now. At least, until Cerelle’s marriage is public knowledge and Tyshara and Lord Tarly announce their own betrothal.”

Aemond huffs, showing a flash of impatience that makes you beam. “Hasn’t there always been an understanding? It’s been his and your goal ever since you came to the capitol.” You blink, confused for a moment, before shame and horror blossom on your face as you realize he knows. His eye watches you, openly amused, and he leans down, mouth by your ear, voice so low you can barely hear him over the still-roaring crowd. “You’re clever, my love, but it’s only in recent years that you’ve become skilled at deception and manipulation. I’m afraid that I was onto you right from the start.”

Heat explodes in your cheeks and you pull away, gaping up at him openly. He smirks at you, infuriatingly smug, and, suddenly uncaring of the eyes around you, you open your mouth. To say what - you’re not entirely sure. A denial? An explanation? An apology? No matter what you plan to say, you still want to say something but you’re cut off when Aegon all but slams into his brother, knocking him from your grasp, and sending the two of them skidding slightly in the dirt.

“I’m a rich, rich, rich man,” Aegon crows, arm flung around his younger brother as he gives him a firm shake, looking elated. Right behind him, Daeron is excitingly bouncing on his heels, looking like a little boy in all of his joy.

“Haven’t you always been a rich man?” Aemond snipes back, no real bite behind his words, and Aegon merely grins wider, looking impossibly pleased as if it was he himself who had fought and defeated all the opponents his brother had faced.

“Yes but now I’m a richer man,” he corrects, even as the rest of his family arrives to crowd around you all, forming a wall between you and the rest of the world. “That was family wealth, brother. This is personal wealth now - mine entirely.”

You watch them, torn between laughing at their interaction or panicking at the fact that Aemond knows, before Helaena tugs on your hand to call your attention. When you turn to her, you jerk back slightly as she reaches up to your face with a handkerchief, wiping at your chin gently. When she pulls it away, you blink at the blood staining the white fabric.

Aemond’s hand. When he grabbed me earlier.

It should horrify you but instead, something in you roars with satisfaction. In front of all of King’s Landing, he had claimed you and he had crowned you and he had marked you. It calms you but only barely.

He wouldn’t do this if he didn’t care for me too. If he didn’t think I was honest you try to reassure yourself but it’s still difficult to convince yourself of it. A part of you wants to be indignant at the idea he could judge you for seeking him out in marriage - the two of you had always agreed about the importance of marrying for your house rather than personal pleasure. You had just been lucky that for you, those two desires managed to be one and the same.

A larger part, however, is just scared. You can still remember, plain as day, the little boy who had seemed baffled that you wanted to spend time with him, that you even cared to speak to him. Aemond is grown now, more confident and sure of himself than he had ever been as a child, but you don’t want to hurt him. You never have.

You need him to know that. To know that you’ve always been honest in wanting him and only him.

Helaena knocks you with her shoulder and you startle, looking at her with wide eyes. She smiles, soft and gentle as always. “Don’t get lost in there,” she says, reaching up to tap at the side of your head.

You manage a smile. “I won’t, princess,” you promise, fingers itching for something to grab and squeeze in your nerves.

She eyes you and you know that she can see right through you.

You wonder who else can.

There’s a slight commotion and you look up in time to see the Queen descend upon Aemond. Unlike you, she’s well within her rights to brush her hands over him, searching for any wounds that he might be hiding. She looks equal parts relieved, exasperated, and proud as she crowds her middle son and, though you’re too far to perfectly hear her quiet voice over the still rowdy crowd, you can only imagine that she’s scolding and congratulating Aemond.

You only get a moment to watch their interaction when someone drags you into their chest in a facsimile of a hug and you let out a loud yelp. Aemond immediately turns at the sound, hand flying to his sword, only to have to force himself to relax when he catches sight of who it is.

“Your prince did well, sweetling,” Jason murmurs in your ear, giving you a tight squeeze, and you swat him away, fighting down a pleased smile. When you turn to face your father, he reaches up to touch the crowd on your head and, when he pulls his hand away, his fingers are tinged with red. “A Queen of Love and Beauty crowned twice in one tourney by two different men. You’re in rare company now, sweet girl. Not even Lady Jonquil can claim that honor.”

You laugh, feeling your cheeks go hot. Behind him, Tyland walks up, having been speaking with Lord Ormund. Even he looks victorious. “Are you talking about how our little lady and the Dragon Prince have ensured that the singers will be well-fed for the next few months?”

“Hardly,” you retort, knowing as you say it that it’s a lie. Victor and Aemond both crowning you, a Queen of Love and Beauty twice over, the Dragon killing the Fox. Individually, they were all things that would invite the singers to write their songs. Combined? You’d be lucky if it ever stopped. The bards must have been frothing at the mouth during the tourney and now that they’ve been given their perfect story, there is little doubt in your mind that they will take every advantage.

You wonder if centuries in the future if the songs would still mention you and Aemond like they mention Jonquil and Florian. You wonder what they would say.

I hope they’re beautiful songs, you think, feeling a girlish sense of joy spread throughout you, something you haven’t felt in quite some time.

“Now,” Jason says, grinning as he squeezes you again. “I have to speak to the Queen. See about arranging a meeting.”

“Not tomorrow,” you warn. “Helaena is to spend the day preparing for the wedding and I’m to assist her with it. It’ll have to be after the wedding.”

Your father laughs. “I doubt we’ll have a problem if we postpone a little, sweetling. Like Lord Tarly, Prince Aemond strikes me as an exceedingly patient man.”

You bite your lip as you think about the look in Aemond’s eye at the moment after he had crowned you - when he looked as if he wanted to devour you.

No, father, you think as you watch Jason walk to the Targaryen princes and their mother, his gait slow and confident like a predator that has finally cornered his prey. I don’t think Aemond is very patient at all.

“What did the court say?” You finally ask, tearing your eyes away from them to meet your uncle’s watchful gaze. “Positive? Negative? Will I be tarred and feathered during the feast tonight?”

He sighs, rubbing at his beard. “Excited, to say the least. There’s little the court loves more than scandals such as this one. This will sustain them for some time and I wouldn’t be surprised if some especially nosy ladies reach out to organize teas or take you out riding and hawking just to try and pry some gossip from you. I’d keep an eye out for it.”

You smile, shaking your head. You open your mouth to ask for more detail when there’s a screeching wail, loud enough to reach your ears but not quite loud enough to call the attention of the rest of the grounds. You look over and freeze, feeling as if someone has poured ice water over you, dowsing and chilling you completely.

Two servants stand awkwardly to the side as a woman sobs over Victor Florent’s body, her dress soaking in blood, staining its delicate blue beyond saving. A man is holding her, pulling her back, his own cheeks streaked with tears as he stares with despair down at the broken body of what once was a knight.

And Erren Florent stands, almost perfectly still, eyes boring into Aemond and his family.

His brother and good sister you realize as you watch their grief, your stomach twisting into knots. For all his faults, they must have loved him something fierce.

You want to look away, want to look and see anything else, but your body won’t let you. Is it penance? Is it a poor attempt at an apology?

You crush the thought as easily as it arises. Not an apology. Never an apology. This was a tourney. This was the melee. Men died as easily as flies and Aemond had been well within his rights to kill Victor. If it hadn’t been Victor, it would have been Aemond and his life is worth all of the lives of the entire Florent line. You’d rather have to personally rip their House out from their seat of power, root and stem and seed, than have to face what could have been today.

No. Not an apology.

Guilt.

If Victor Florent was the only victim, you would sleep easy. You would sleep happily. But he had a family. You didn’t care about Erren Florent - the man deserves to be knocked down like this, deserves to see his ambitions lying pitifully in the dirt - but his brother and good sister were innocent. Their only crime was loving their family.

You don’t even want to imagine the state you would be in if you lost one of your siblings. If Helaena or even Daeron or Aegon had paid the ultimate price.

If Aemond.

As much as you don’t want to think about it, the thought rises in your mind and you know what you would feel, what you would want, if you were in the position of Victor Florent’s loved ones.

Because of that, you turn back to your uncle, finally pulling yourself free from the Florents’ show of grief. “Send them our condolences,” you say, voice quiet but firm. Hardened. There can be no room for doubt. “But see if we can pay a servant in their party to loosen their tongue. If they decide they want more than our well wishes… We will move from there.”

Tyland watches you, careful and analytical. He’s looking into you, peering around as if he’s looking for something. You meet his gaze with determination, lifting your head up, and eventually, your uncle smiles. It’s a gentle smile even as his eyes flash with satisfaction and pride. “Of course, little one,” he replies, holding his arm out for you to take. You take it and he does you the favor of ignoring the slight tremor in your body. “Your will is my command.”

I am a Lion of the Rock and foxes cannot frighten me.

——————————–

Unlike the dinner before, you dress in your house colors tonight, shining in a gown of deep maroon with veins of an even darker red embroidered on the thick fabric. A corset forged out of gold, more decorative than serving any true purpose, cinches at your waist, a lion’s head embossed onto the delicate metal.

No one is looking at your dress, however. They hadn’t looked at your dress when you had entered or when you had bowed before the royal family. Even when you sit down to eat, your family all around you, your cousins and distant uncles don’t look at your dress or even your face.

Instead, they all stare up at your crown. You’d been near obsessively careful with it on the journey back from the grounds and, when your handmaids had been helping you dress and fix your hair, you had insisted on being the one to handle it. When one of them had suggested cleaning it, to ‘make the gold shine, m’lady’, you had had to bite your tongue to hold back from lashing out in anger.

Gold isn’t the only color of my House, you had said, firmly and without room for doubt or misinterpretation. I mean to do them both honor.

The crown of golden, bloodied flowers sits on your head, pristine and perfect. It’s a clear message. It’s a loud message.

When you had greeted the royal family and Aemond had seen that you were still wearing it, he had very nearly smiled, his face brightening up - not to the point that anyone else would recognize but so glaringly obvious to you. The Queen and the Lord Hand had personally congratulated you and Aegon and Daeron had even toasted you. Their acceptance of you as a Queen of Love and Beauty along with your clear preference for one crown over another has essentially tied you to Aemond publicly even if no betrothal has been announced.

An understanding, indeed You think to yourself.

It was truly no wonder that the eyes of the court stayed focused on your crown rather than you yourself.

There was one member of the court, however, who was not staring up at the red and gold flowers. Instead, Erren Florent was staring right at you.

There’s no expression on his face. Not grief, not rage, not even annoyance. His face is blank, an expressionless mask, and it was all focused on you. He sits alone. His son and good daughter must have sat out to mourn in peace but he had come.

He had come to watch you.

His gaze is heavy, oppressive, but you refuse to let him see you flinch. Instead, you straighten up in your seat, throwing your hair back, and meet his eyes coolly. His gaze sharpens, cold and cruel, and you know that if he could, he would leap across the throne room and slit your throat himself.

But he can’t. Not here, in a room where the most powerful people were allied to you. It must rankle his nerves, agitate his very soul.

How hateful, you think, to have to watch your son die while the world cheers around you.

You’d feel pity if you didn’t already dislike the man. You’d feel guilty about his pain if you weren’t cautious about the look in his eyes; the wild, crazed, desperate look.

You and Aemond have made your beds and burned down any chance for anything resembling friendliness with the Florents. Now you would have to lie in it, in the ashes of what the two of you had done.

Erren finally looks away, turning his gaze to some poor well-wisher that’s approached him to offer his condolences, and you join your cousins’ conversation. Still, you remain sitting straight, your posture so perfect that you’re sure that your old septa is somewhere beaming with pride, lest he turn his stare back on you.

Your cousins are predictably talking about the tourney - they’re gossiping about the melee and all of the handsome knights that, while unable to win the event, had proved themselves to be skilled and capable. A few of the more confident ones scheme about how to bump into the knights to see if they could manage to coax a dance or even a tea out of them. All of them keep cooing over your crown, most of them tactfully ignoring the blood staining the golden roses.

Surprisingly enough, however, Jocasta is the only one to bring it up. “Our House colors,” she quietly murmurs, still skittish under your gaze. “The Gods must have blessed Prince Aemond so he could be the one to give you this crown.”

She doesn’t meet your eyes but you smile warmly at her regardless. She’s a sweet girl, after all.

The actual feasting part of the feast wraps up fairly quickly and, when the dancing begins, you excuse yourself from your family and walk up to the royal table. This time, no one stops you and no one gets in your way and, soon enough, you’re sliding into the chair next to Helaena, smiling at her and Aemond both.

An awkward silence descends on the three of you - you’re not entirely sure on how to act now, not in this new reality where your and Aemond’s intentions have all been laid bare. Hours away from any Targaryen have calmed your anxieties - he’d never have crowned you if he hated you for the truth - but now you’re unsure how to approach talking to them, unsure if you should bring up the rather big elephant in the room.

“Are you ready to spend all of tomorrow in prayer?” You ask Helaena, grasping for a topic to talk about, and she sighs in response, her hands coming up to play with the ends of her hair.

“It should be a nice reprieve, to be honest,” she says after a moment. “It’ll be quiet. Relaxing.”

You nod, finding that you agree. “It will be nice to get away from the chaos of the rest of the wedding. Pity that we’ll miss the archery event though - Tygett seems pretty confident that he’ll win in that event.”

“Is he a skilled archer or are Lannisters naturally inclined to succeed when there’s gold on the line?” Aemond asks drolly and you shoot him a glare, ignoring how your cheeks warm when he chuckles at your dark look.

“I don’t say why we would be,” you say in your most haughty voice, tapping your fingers against the table. “We’re already richer than every other House in Westeros.”

“There is no limit to Lannister pride or ambition,” he quips back and you preen. You had heard the phrase lobbed at your House in the past, usually used to insult or scorn, but coming from Aemond, it feels more like a compliment than it ever has in the past.

A companionable silence falls over the three of you and you turn your attention back to the throne room, watching as the court mingles. This late into the night, people are slowly drowning deeper and deeper in their cups and you begin to wonder how anything ever gets done. It’d be easier to list everyone who isn’t drinking and it’s nothing short of a miracle that people are able to wake up in the morning in order to even attend the wedding festivities.

You’ve never particularly liked alcohol and usually could only tolerate a goblet or two of wine before begging off and asking for water. Aegon seemed to be somewhat invested in getting you drunk at least once but, as you watch your father flirt with a coquettish Lady Tyrell as her increasingly annoyed husband stands at her side and watches, you wonder why anyone bothered.

“If the feasts are already like this, I can hardly imagine how the actual wedding is going to go,” you grumble and Helaena laughs.

“Aegon will start drinking tonight and he won’t stop until after the wedding. I’ll thank the Seven if he manages to make it down the aisle.” She says, amusement evident, and you turn to smile at her even as your stomach squeezes at her response.

She’s fine with it, you remind yourself, wishing that the reminder would bring you any comfort. He’ll keep to his practices and she’ll keep to hers. It’s duty. There’s honor in doing your duty.

Aemond sighs. “Aegon will be there, Helaena. I’ll personally ensure it.”

“No choice,” she responds, almost chirping. “No choice at all.”

You watch her, heart beating fast in your chest, before she shakes her head firmly. She blinks hard before rising to her feet.

“I’m tired,” Helaena says, not sounding very tired at all. “Shall we leave?”

“So early?” You ask, looking over her carefully as you rise to your feet, suddenly anxious that she’s grown uncomfortable and you haven’t noticed. “Should I inform the Queen?”

Helaena shakes her head again, smiling. “No. I’m sure Mother will understand - getting an early jump on prayer and contemplation and all of that. Perhaps we should head to the gardens, actually. Enjoy the night air.”

After a moment, you nod, glancing over to see if you can spot the Queen regardless. She’s with her father, speaking to Lord Borros Baratheon, her emerald dress making her stand out even deep in the crowd like she is. “Of course, Helaena. I imagine the gardens are lovely right now.”

“Either way, I’ll inform Mother. I’ll also let Lord Lannister know as well, my lady,” Aemond says, glancing at you, and you quickly thank him, giving him a small smile as he nods his head at you.

“Join us after, brother,” Helaena calls out after Aemond has already made his way down to the ground, and, though her brother made no indication that he heard her words, she beams as if he’s already agreed. She turns to you, light entering her eyes and making her seem more like the little girl the two of you used to be rather than the women the two of you were. “Shall we go?” She asks, holding out her arm for you to take, and, after a moment, you loop your arm with her, grinning.

——————————–

The gardens are, predictably, empty with not even a token servant wandering its grounds. The moment you step into the cool night air, Helaena pulls free from you and, tugging at her skirts from the side to pull up her gown, darts into the maze-like hedges, her long silver hair streaming in the air behind her.

“Helaena!” You call out, immediately chasing after her, but the princess only laughs, delighted. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the garden are her giggles, punctuated by your cursing at your own gown as it snags and snares on every stray piece of foliage you pass. Mercifully, she finally slows to a stop, near the paved terrace that overlooks the rolling waters of Blackwater Bay.

Helaena sits, perched on the wall that separates the gardens from the rocky cliffs that jut out beneath it, face turned towards the waters. Slowing to a halt, you stop next to her, trying your best to calm your breathing from the sprint she had dragged you on.

“Look,” She says after a moment, pointing out towards the rocky outcrops in the middle of the bay, far in the distance. You follow her finger, eyes straining against the dark, until it lights up like day.

There’s a brilliant burst of flame, bright and hot enough that you can feel the heat crash against your body as if it was a physical wall ramming into you. A massive body, larger than anything could have the right to be, crashes into the water, sending up a massive wave that could swallow most ships you’ve seen whole.

Vhagar is hunting.

You watch, mesmerized with wonder and fear, as she rises up into the sky, clutching a whale in her claws. It’s a colossal thing, big enough to seemingly drag Vhagar down back to its home in the deep, but the Queen of All Dragons is stronger than that. The leviathan is writhing in her grasp, fighting with all its might to escape, but Vhagar’s claws are longer and sharper than any spear any man could ever hope to hold. She curls her talons in and you can hear the whale’s wail even from miles away, can see the rivers of blood that fall through the air like rain.

Vhagar flies up, up, and up into the sky where even her tremendous size can appear small, disappearing into cloud cover. Even in the dark, however, the moonlight casts her shadow and she looks monstrous, even hidden from view how she is. You watch until you can’t anymore until she finally disappears into the inky darkness of the night.

“Where does she feed?” You ask Helaena, hands coming down to the wall so you can lean, pressing deeper in the cool air as if you’ll be able to see her if you stretch.

“At an island deeper in,” Aemond’s voice answers and you nearly topple over in your shock, spinning around to see him smirking at your surprise. Next to him, Daeron is pinned under Aegon’s arm, both seemingly trapped by his older brother and also being the only thing keeping him from falling to the ground. Aegon, for his part, looks mighty pleased, a wine bottle clutched in his hand.

Aemond walks closer, standing by your side and looking out towards the Blackwater. His eyes are focused, narrowed, and you get the idea he knows exactly where he’s looking at. “It’s a small island, past the spears of the merling king. From what I can tell, it used to be covered with trees but she’s razed most of it down to make her roost.”

“She’s far too big for the Dragonpit I suppose,” you reply, curling your fingers against the stone.

“She was too big a hundred years ago,” he hums. “Vhagar could fit - if she had any desire to. Once Balerion the Black Dread passed, she never returned to it. The island is her home now.”

You smile sadly at the thought of Vhagar leaving the Dragonpit forever once her brother had passed. Perhaps it hadn’t been her size that had driven her out but rather her grief. It seemed strange that such a creature, as ancient and destructive as she was, could feel such emotion, such heartbreak, but somehow that little detail has warmed you up to her more than anything else ever had in the years since Aemond has claimed her.

After a moment, you glance up at her rider. “How do you summon her?” You ask, feeling slightly embarrassed that the simple question had never once occurred to you in the near decade since Driftmark. Vhagar had always been an abstract figure in your mind - the prize that Aemond had bought with his eye. You had never stopped to think about the simpler details of her bond with the prince.

Aemond, noticing your sudden curiosity, gives you a half smile. “She always knows. My lady Vhagar will come flying if she senses I have a need for her. She’s always in my mind like I’m always in hers.”

You frown, looking back over the bay. Vhagar is no doubt far from here now but you can still see her in your mind: a massive beast that took up the entire sky. You wonder if, even as deep in her meal as she surely must be, she can still feel Aemond’s presence in her mind. “How does that work? What if you’re chilly one night and offhandedly think that you’d fancy a fire to keep you warm? Would Vhagar come bearing down on us and crush the Red Keep beneath her?” You question jokingly, laughing slightly.

“A dragon is not something you can call accidentally. You can try to summon one but it’s not some dog that’ll come running at your beck and call. Dragons will only serve those they want to serve,” his words are heavy with intent and, sharply inhaling, you meet his ever-watchful eye.

I’m afraid that I was onto you right from the start.

“Was I really that obvious?” You breathe out, heart pounding in your chest. Your voice is low, quiet enough so that the other Targaryen siblings, lost in their own conversation, cannot hear you, but he can hear you perfectly. The look gleaming in his eye tells you all you need to know. “How long have you known?”

He smirks in response, looking rather like the cat that finally caught his prey. “Since you arrived. Lannisters notoriously stick together and daughters of the Rock are usually treasured rather than shipped off. If your uncle wanted company from his family, he would have sent for some distant cousin or another and not his ten-year-old niece. You only would have come to marry and, with your family pushing for you to be Helaena’s companion, there were really only two real targets.”

You sigh, feeling your cheeks flush in shame and embarrassment. “Are you angry?” Do I need to apologize? Do you want me to spill out my heart here?

“After I got over the fact that a pretty girl actually wanted to spend time with me, I wanted to ignore you, but Mother made me promise that I’d give you a chance,” he says easily and you openly wince, feeling a pang of regret shoot through you. “You were difficult to avoid, however, always showing up at the library when I was studying, always willing to talk to me about whatever book you were reading. It wasn’t hard for you to worm your way into being my friend.”

You ruefully smile, shaking your head. “It wasn’t as if it was a chore, my prince,” you respond, the truth coming to you easily. “If I didn’t like you for you rather than the prince my father wanted me to claim, I wouldn’t have read nearly as many books as I did. I certainly wouldn’t have given you the sapphire necklace. That… It was the first gift my father ever gave me himself. During all my earlier name day celebrations, his gift would be mixed in with the ones from everyone else and sometimes he’d look as surprised as I was at whatever it was he had given me. I’m sure his old steward was the one always picking it out for him. But that necklace… It’s tradition, you see, in House Lannister, to give a maiden jewelry when she begins her search for a husband.”

“And you gave it to me,” Aemond says, no question in his voice - only the absolute truth of it.

“And I gave it to you,” you echo. “At the time, it was the only thing of value I could think to give you. That and my word. A promise from a Lannister is as good as any jewel.”

Aemond laughs at that. “Your word is as good as any jewel, my lady. Better even.”

You grin, relief washing over you when you realize he isn’t upset. “Perhaps. Maybe Lannister words aren’t worth as much as I say but all of us take our debts very seriously and your debt is mine.”

“And yours is mine,” he replies, as steady as the Red Keep itself.

I am yours and you are mine.

Before you can say anything, however, the too-familiar call of your nickname calls your attention and you look over to see Aegon waving his bottle of wine in the air, narrowly missing smacking poor Daeron in the skull with it.

“Brother! My shining Lady of Lannister! Come join us for a drink!” He shouts as if you’re across the Blackwater Bay itself rather than standing only a few scant feet away.

You can practically hear Aemond’s frown in his voice. “‘Join us’? You’re the only one drinking.”

Aegon laughs gleefully. “Come now, Aemond, we should be celebrating your victory! You may not be able to claim the true prize yet without bringing an entire kingdom down on our heads for defiling a lady of the Rock but you can drink!”

“He just wants to congratulate you,” Daeron rushes to say, no doubt recognizing the stormy look on Aemond’s face after Aegon’s less-than-subtle insinuation. “You’ve won a great victory and brought yourself much honor.”

“The hand will hold the iron,” Helaena sings even as she kneels down on the ground to play with a passing millipede.

“If you do not want a drink, though, it'd make you much more enjoyable to be with,” Aegon continues, shaking his head as he moves closer to you and Aemond. “Then your Queen of Love and Beauty will drink for you.”

You huff, sidestepping the bottle stretched out in an offer and gamely holding yourself back from smacking him away when his free hand reaches for your crown. “I thank you, Prince Aegon, but I’d rather not enter a full day of prayer and contemplation tomorrow sick from drink. I’m supposed to be praying for a blessed marriage with your sister after all.”

Aegon scowls at the reminder and you instantly wish you had chosen a different word to call Helaena. She’s his sister and his betrothed. Both are true no matter how much we all wish they weren’t. “If you’re praying for children for us, there’s nothing prayer could accomplish than a cask of the finest Arbor Gold could not.”

“Enough of that,” Aemond snaps, no doubt displeased with his brother’s blasphemy. “No one else will be drinking.”

“Daeron had a drink,” Aegon replies mutinously and Daeron’s eyes go comically wide. You laugh at his almost bug-eyed stare as you sink to the ground next to Helaena, sensing that Aegon will not allow anyone to leave before his fun is finished. Helaena beams at you as she grabs the millipede, bringing it up uncomfortably close to your face to show you.

“I had one,” Daeron hotly protests, no doubt missing how his older brothers, despite their discord, exchange amused glances at his overly forceful defense. “And you made me do it.”

Aegon grins. “I don’t know, little brother… You did trip on a rock on our way here.”

“Because you tripped,” Daeron shoots back.

“Mother would be disappointed to see how her baby dragon’s turned out,” Aemond says, voice as serious as if he’s discussing policy with the Lord Hand. “She had such high hopes for you.”

“But I-”

“I saw him wobble a little just now,” Helaena volunteers from the ground, not even looking up from the millipede crawling all over her hands.

Daeron whines, sounding like a little boy rather than the near-grown man that he was. “I didn’t!”

You grin up at him, shaking your head. “It’s alright, my prince. As long as you can hold your drink better than Prince Aegon, the Queen would find no fault within you.”

“There’s not much hope of that if he’s like this after one,” Aemond replies, quick as a whip, and even he cracks a smile as Daeron loudly protests his innocence.

The five of you stay in the gardens long after Aegon finishes his wine, basking in the glow of the moonlight.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #apologies for the longer read more i didn't know where to chop it! #but anyways i love the targtowers sm <3

[candychronicles]

bouquet // m. togata

A/N: My take on the bnharem flower server collab! Hope you enjoy!

CHARACTER PAIRING: Togata Mirio x Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,791

WARNINGS: big, soft fluff

SYNOPSIS: what can flowers say about your relationship with your best friend?

Want to read more flowery goodness? Click here!

it was a hot, sweltering July day, and you were panicking. your best friend slash secret crush’s birthday was today and you still had no idea what to get him. you mulled over it for hours the past couple of weeks, and bought him quite a few presents already, ranging from merch of his favorite pro heroes to video games he mentioned liking, but you still felt as if it wasn’t enough. you wanted to spread the cheer all day and allow him to think of nothing except happiness and positivity.

it was only when you were on your way to the party that you thought of the most brilliant idea: flowers! they were simple yet sweet and would be the perfect ending to your already large pile of gifts. you rushed to the nearest shop, buzzing with excitement, arms heavy with bags of all shapes and sizes. 

“hello!” you chirped out to the older woman behind the counter, announcing your presence rather happily.

she turned to you with a small smile, offering her assistance, and when you explained that you were looking for a bouquet of flowers for your best friend, she began offering you choices.

“hmm, i think i should just let you make it. you’re the expert here not me,” you conceded after a few minutes, head spinning from the overwhelming choices and floral scents. 

“well, how about you tell me about your best friend and i’ll go from there?” 

“Togata Mirio, what can i say about him? he’s tenacious, always outgoing, always there for me when i need him. he never prys unless he knows it's to help me, makes time for me no matter what. he’s brave and kind and the best person in the world to become a hero. i cannot imagine having a better person in my life than him. he’s everything i’ll ever need and more,” you rambled, a light pink dusting your cheeks. 

you continued to talk about Togata, from how handsome he looked in his hero costume to stories of his trials and tribulations all throughout high school to his blossoming career saving people. the older woman simply smiled and nodded through your words as she carefully put together splashes of color here and there, eventually settling on four flowers that you would’ve never thought to use together but looked absolutely beautiful.

your smile couldn’t be brighter as you paid and tipped generously for the help, gathering the bouquet of flowers in your hand and delicately storing them in yet another bag that you added to your arm.

the party had already started by time you showed up, laughtering echoing in the large home. you scanned the rooms one by one, your arms aching, until you found a pile of presents under a large banner. relief flooded through your body as you gently began placing the bags one by one onto the pile, filling up the space quite quickly. just as you were standing back up, you felt a pair of arms wrap around your body and suddenly someone had jumped onto your back.

“hey silly! we were wondering when you were going to show up. follow me, foods this way!” Nejire screamed in your ear before jumping off your back and grabbing your arm to lead you to the kitchen.

you hadn’t had time to even collect your thoughts before a cupcake was being forced into your mouth. you blinked owlishly at the girl in front of you, stunned every time by her sheer energy, despite knowing her for years.

“nish ta see yuh too,” you mumbled out around the food stuffed in your mouth, before snagging a bottle of water and forcing the mush down your throat.

“where’s Amajiki and Mirio?” you asked once you had regained some semblance of composure.

“they’re outside, he’s mingling around with everyone but i know he’ll want to say hi to you. he’s been asking all day where you were!”

you two made your way, hand in hand, to the backyard, sliding open the door and stepping out into the fresh summer air. there were plenty of trees shading the grassy area, and with a cool breeze, you were feeling much more relaxed here than you had been all day. 

“(y/n)!” you heard someone call out, and you squinted around, trying to find the source of the voice before you saw Mirio weave his way through the crowd, drink in one hand and a smile gracing his face.

“i was wondering when you were going to show up! where have you been all day?”

“sorry, i got caught up getting a last minute present. i hope it’ll be worth it!”

“i’m sure it will. just your presence is a present. get it?”

you had all laughed at his dumb joke before rescuing Tamaki, who looked rather out of place hunched over in a chair in the middle of a crowded backyard. 

the rest of the day went by in a blur, eating snacks, telling stories, blowing out birthday candles, and finally, presents. you had been giving some of your smaller ones to him throughout the day, but you had a few left. he had opened the games, the clothes, the merchandise and all the other bigger presents in front of everyone, but you had made him promise that you could hand the last present, the flowers, to him in private. for some reason, they felt special. 

people began slowly filtering out one by one, giving Mirio hugs and pats on the back, wishing him a happy birthday one more time, taking cookies to go. it ended up being just the four of you at the end of the night: you, Togata, Tamaki, and Nejire. 

Nejire insisted that Tamaki help her clean up, and you promised that you would join once you handed out your last present to Togata. you skipped to the bag, grabbing it in excitement, before pulling him outside into the now cool, dark air.

“okay, so, i’m not really sure why this is a big deal, but i feel as if these are important. i spent a good hour at least with this older woman at the flower shop down the road, telling her all about you, and she created a bouquet that she insisted would knock your socks off. i think it will, too.”

you pulled the bouquet delicately out of the bag and outstretched your arm, offering the array for Togata to examine.

he grabbed the stalks, fingers brushing softly against your own. he studied the flowers like his life depended on it, before a large smile graced his face, white teeth splashing against the shadows of the night.

“wow, you must’ve talked your ear off to this woman, huh?” he mused, looking up at you with a twinkle in his eye.

Togata took one step forward, and then another, until he was practically standing on top of you. reaching down gently, he took your chin in his hand and moved your face until it was peering up at him. soft, sweet kisses peppered your face before he placed his lips on your own in a loving embrace, pouring every emotion he felt into his actions.

when he pulled away, you stared at him, eyes wide, breath caught in your throat.

when you didn’t say anything, panic crossed Togata’s face, before he squeaked out, “you like me, right? that’s what the flowers meant?”

you gaped at him like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing, not knowing what to say.

“i-i mean yeah, i like you, but how could you tell from the flowers? they’re just flowers. the colors were supposed to match your hero costume, but you couldn’t possibly know that i like you from that?” 

he laughed loudly at your expression and comment, able to find humor in the situation now that you confirmed that you did indeed like him and he didn’t ruin your whole entire friendship over one kiss.

“what exactly did you tell the woman at the flower shop?”

“i just told her how amazing you were. how you were my best friend and were always there for me. i-” you paused, realizing just how much you told that woman, how much you blabbed on about Togata and how much you truly liked him. you put your hands over your face, squeaking in embarrassment, before confessing, “i practically told her everything about how i felt about you.”

“it seems like she caught onto your feelings quite easily,” he teased, before continuing, “let me explain it to you.”

he sat you down in a chair, scooching himself to get close to you.

“jonquil is desire for affection to be returned. that little yellow flower was a dead giveaway for me. red chrysanthemums mean love. white carnations also mean love, but pure, sweet love more specifically. blue violets mean faithfulness. honestly, i cannot believe this woman not only matched my hero outfit colors, but put a bouquet together this pretty, and got my crush to confess to me without her even knowing. i’ll have to pay her a visit soon.”

“you like me?”

he laughed loudly once again at your question, before leaning over and pressing yet another sweet kiss to your lips.

“i have kissed you not once, but twice now. you can’t question it anymore. of course i like you! you’re my best friend. i would do anything for you,” he admitted, his own cheeks alight in a rosy glow, only visible slightly from the yellow light emanating from the patio bulb.

“how did you know about this? about the flowers, i mean?”

“Eri really wanted to learn more about them, so we learned together. man, am i glad i learned too. never thought it would come in handy until today!”

you chuckled with him, but before you got to reply, Nejire opened up the backdoor.

“come on you lovebirds. i’ve given you enough time alone. Amajiki and I have already cleaned up and it’s time for a movie!”

Mirio tugged you up from the chair, lacing his hand through yours, before walking inside, sneaking glances your way, mind blown at how the day was going. right as you were stepping inside, he stopped you.

“it’s technically July 16th, so it’s not my birthday anymore. which means that i have to ask you right away. will you be my girlfriend?”

“i thought i already was, but yes, i’ll be your girlfriend. now hurry up before they eat all of the popcorn!”

you raced through the door, tackling Nejire in a hug and stealing the popcorn from off the table.

Togata watched from the doorway, heart beating painfully out of his chest, but in the greatest way possible.

best. birthday. ever.

Taglist: @jojosmilktea​​ @redbeanteax​ @softforshigi​ @katsuki-bakugous-lady​ @katsukisprincess​ @secondhand-trash​ @freiyalight​

Want to be a part of my taglist? Message me!

#Togata Mirio #Mirio Togata #mirio x reader #togata mirio x reader #togata x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

[nose-bandaid]

bloom ✿ pt.5 — jonquils

Kino (Hyunggu) x (female) Reader | flower shop AU

february 27th jonquils — love me, sympathy, desire for affection to be returned

introduction | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | epilogue

taglist: @yunwoo​

feel free to send me an ask or a dm if you wanna be added to the taglist:D

=====

You didn’t see Hyunggu for almost two weeks after the rose incident, and as you expected, you didn’t get a single message back from him either. While you reasoned with yourself that he most was most likely just not in the need for flowers (a reasonable explanation), a part of you worried that he would never visit again. What else were you supposed to think? He literally disappeared from your life without a word, and his friend’s comments didn’t make the situation any better.

By now, you were coming to terms with the fact that things between you and him had died down, and channelled more focus onto your work in hopes of getting over the reoccurring thoughts of him. It wasn’t worth it. Clearly he wasn’t going to make a move anytime soon (and neither were you, really), and so you decided that it would be best for you to just put it aside and think about more important things instead. Your messy feelings could wait.

Today your shift started later than usual, and you were able to score yourself some extra sleep and a good lunch — a nice change from your usual morning shifts. And to be honest, you felt pretty content despite all of the worries running around in your mind. Refreshed and relaxed, you had a good feeling for the day that was about to come, and happily pushed open the door to the shop.

Only to walk straight into someone.

“Ah—!”

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You apologized, rubbing your nose to ease the pain.

“No, no, don’t worry about—“

You locked eyes with the person in front of you and felt each other freeze for a moment.

“Oh... Hyunggu... Hey.” You gave him a quick smile and the person standing beside him let out a shocked gasp.

“You’re the girl right?”

“Excuse me?” You turned to the other voice and took in his appearance. He was stunningly tall with a noticeably broad posture which for some reason, made you think of the small tree you had growing in your backyard. Maybe it was the hair? Or maybe his shoulders? Or the way he looked at you with his lost, curious eyes? Whatever it was, you had to stifle a giggle at the thought and made a mental note to take another look at the tree when you got home.

“Y/n, was it? You’re the girl that Hyunggu never stops talk—“ The person in question was quick to cover the tall boy’s mouth, loudly shushing him.

“Shinwon if you don’t shut your mouth right now—“ His muttering trailed off into a harsh glare.

Not wanting to stay in the awkward conversation any longer, you slipped past the fighting friends. As you scurried away from the scene, you locked eyes with Seungkwan, who was currently pruning some of the bonsai trees and immediately melted in comfort at the familiar face.

“Hey, Boo.” You greeted, and the other ceased his detailed trimming to give you a wave. From the looks of it, he hadn’t noticed the little encounter you had at the entrance.

“Hey! How have things been?”

You looked behind you at the two boys who were now talking to each other in hushed voices. “Er... Same as usual I guess. You?”

He gave you an exasperated look and picked up the shears again. “Josh was dumb and didn’t tell me that I had some orders to complete, so guess who’s overloaded with work today!” His cheerful voice dripped with the feeling of apathy, devoid of emotions. “Do you mind taking care of the customers for a while? I was waiting for you to come before I went to the back.”

As much as you didn’t want to interact with Hyunggu at all, you couldn’t say no to Seungkwan’s request. The poor guy seemed so stressed that day, you ushered him away from the bonsai without any second thoughts. Giving you a quick hug, he made some last arrangements to the plants before bustling his way to the back with a huff. 

You stared at the plants and childishly hoped that they would strike up a conversation to keep you busy, but they refused to say a word (as they should). Sighing to yourself, you decided to at least pretend you were doing something. Anything to occupy your restless attention.

You didn’t know how you were expected to react to suddenly seeing Hyunggu out of the blue, and from the looks of it, he wasn’t expecting to see you either. He didn’t even seem like he wanted to be here in the first place, and you wondered why he risked this visit after putting so much effort into avoiding your messages. 

Despite trying your best to just focus on the task at hand, you still ended up watching their movements in the corner of your eye. They continued to argue for a couple more minutes and then finally decided on some flowers to settle with. Panic filled your body with every step they took towards the counter up until the very last step that took them to the front and the other boy — Shin... Shinwon was it? — glanced your way. You didn’t know how many minutes had passed since Seungkwan left you, but you silently hoped that it was enough for him to come back and save you from this situation.

Though of course, not everything you wish for happens so easily.

“These are jonquils, right?” A curious voice pulled you out of your sulking, and you followed the finger that pointed towards the yellow flowers sitting on the table nearby.

You looked at the tall boy in surprise, most people would’ve just thought they were daffodils and called it a day (which wasn’t exactly wrong, but it wasn’t exactly correct either). “Yes they are! Not many people are able to identify them like that, I’m impressed.”

He shot you an embarrassed look as you reluctantly made your way over to the cash. “I was up ‘till 5 am watching youtube videos... and let’s just say you can learn a lot of things within a span of five hours.”

“I see.” You hummed. The conversation died down and the rest of the exchange was done in silence. Every so often, Shinwon would give Hyunggu a knowing glance and you waited for the latter to say something, but he didn’t even utter a single word of goodbye before leaving. His friend, on the other hand, returned your confused look and apologized for some odd reason, before tagging along.

You just stood there, watching the two boys cross the street before disappearing behind a corner. As they did, the clouds in the sky passed over the sun, casting an ominous darkness over the shop.

“The weather’s a bit gloomy today isn’t it?”

You bit back the harsh words you wanted to throw at Seungkwan for arriving right after the moment you needed him. The weather wasn’t the only thing that was gloomy right now, but you also knew that it wasn’t his fault that you were in this situation. You swallowed down the spite building up in you.

“Yeah, it sure is.”

He seemed to have sensed your distant tone. “Everything alright? The plants didn’t bully you did they?”

You laughed at the coincidence, if only the bonsai had started a conversation with you a while ago, then maybe you’d have something better to talk about. You pondered over your response for a second.

“You ever just really want to see someone, but at the same time, you silently hope you wouldn’t run into them anytime soon? Like that awkward, I-want-to-spend-time-with-you-but-also-not, kinda feel?”

He hummed at your question. “I think I know what you’re getting at.”

“Do you, now?” You quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

“Yeah, so there’s this really cute barista at the cafe down the street at my house, and when I say cute, I mean really cute. Anyways,” He dismissed your giggles at his passionate description.”I went there yesterday ‘cause, you know, I need my iced americano to get through the day. The last time I saw this barista, I dropped my wallet and spilled my change all over the ground because I was so caught up in looking at—stop laughing—looking at the way she seemed so cute with the bow she had on. Guy behind me got mad for holding up the line, but like, whatever cause I made her smile! Which was amazing!”

He paused for some dramatic effect.

“...Until I spilled my drink onto the counter when she handed it to me. So then, now not only was she smiling at me but now she was LAUGHING at me. She still made me another drink but I didn’t think I would be able to look at her in the eye for the rest of year. But then guess what? Of course she has to be the only one at the cash when I went yesterday, and of course, she remembered me for the incident.” He groaned and muttered into his hands. “I didn’t even get her name or her number, I just ran out when I got my drink.”

You looked at him with a mixture pity and amusement in your eyes. Seungkwan never failed to brighten your days, no matter how gloomy they may be. His positive attitude followed him everywhere, work included, and you were grateful for that. 

“Not to make this about me though, sorry about the rant.” Finally recovering, he gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Is everything ok with you?” He repeated.

You nodded absentmindedly. “You know what — yeah, everything’s alright. I think I just needed to get my mind off some things and your rant helped with that. I’ll figure it out eventually.”

The two of you shared a brief smile until he spoke up. “Okay, then how about we go grab ourselves come drinks at that cafe when our shifts are over? I’ll treat you for the help back there, and maybe it’ll help you distract yourself.”

“You really don’t have to do that—”

“Hey, c’mon, what are friends for? Besides, we haven’t really been able to catch up on each other for the past while. I miss hearing about all the tea you have to spill.” He nudged your side gently and you finally gave in with a happy sigh.

“Okay, okay, sure, let’s do that.” You agreed, which earned you a smile of approval.

As you watched him check out the results of your work on the bonsai trees (they were practically his children, so he was pretty picky on how they looked), you began to wonder to yourself — will it ever be possible for you to be more like him? Seungkwan always kept his composure along with a positive mindset, and you were a bit jealous of his ability to put things behind him in order to move forward. If only you could do that with your case with Hyunggu...

“If we do run into that cute barista though,” He suddenly piped up. “I’m giving you the responsibility of getting her name and number for me. That’s my only request.”

“Is that so? Then I might as well be the one taking her on a date then, if I’m going through all that effort.” You smirked, feeling much better after your chat with Seungkwan.

“Wha—Y/NNNNN!”

=====

hi please look forward to part 6, i’m truly grinding these updates hehe;)

#pentagon #pentagon kino #kino #kino x reader #hyunggu #kang hyunggu #pentagon shinwon #shinwon #seventeen seungkwan #seungkwan #flowershop au #bloom series #✿ #nose-bandaid

[cuttingthe-painter]

Vampire Boyfriend - Percy

My friend and I both both the same book of writing prompts and have started a challenge where we each write a story based off the same prompt. This is the first one I’ve done during this challenge, I hope you all like it! I apologize for any spelling/grammatical errors, I finished this at 1am and am very tired.

Prompt: a: He read me a poem. b: And you let him live?

Also do vampires count as a monster boyfriend? I’m gonna be self-serving and just say they do! 

male monster x female reader

“He read me a poem,” you announced, busting through the apartment door. Avery looked up from her laptop, grinning at you like a madman.

“And you let him live?” You leveled her with a glare and dropped your bag, a solid thud filling the space between you two. 

“It was cute,” you huffed, yanking off your mittens and scarf before unzipping your coat. 

“You hate poetry,” Avery laughed. She closed her laptop and sat up, patting the seat next to her.  You take your boots off before walking over to the couch and falling into her side. You let out a sigh as you sank into her warmth. “Tell me about this cute poetry, then.”

“So, Percy was walking me home from class, right?”  

“Right,” Avery acknowledged, nodding her head to urge me on.

“Well, he was telling me about one of his classes where they discuss poetry. He was going on and on until I finally told him ‘I hate poetry.’ And you know what he said to me?”

“What’d he say?” Avery asked, motioning for you to grab the chips off the coffee table for her. You leaned forward and grabbed the Doritos, handing them to her before you continued. 

“He said ‘you just haven’t read the right poems’ and laughed!” you exclaimed. You grabbed a chip from the bag, popped it in your mouth, and went on. “So Percy pulled a book out of his bag and opened to a bookmarked page, as if he had been saving the poem just to read to me. Honestly, Ry? It gave me butterflies.”

“I don’t know if it was that you liked the poem, or that you liked the idea of Percy reading you a love poem,” Avery teased, waggling her perfectly sculpted brows at you. You smacked at her playfully and sat up to your phone out of you pocket. You typed the name of the poem into google and pulled it up.

“Let me read it to you,” you offered, waiting for the link to load.

“Only if you make your voice all low and dreamy like Percy’s,” Avery snorted, using the chip bag to block your next swipe at her.  You roll your eyes before clearing your throat and beginning to read.

“Outside the sky is light with stars;

There’s a hollow roaring from the sea.

And, alas! for the little almond flowers,

The wind is shaking the almond tree.

How little I thought, a year ago,

In the horrible cottage upon the Lee

That he and I should be sitting so

And sipping a cup of chamomile tea

Light as feathers the witches fly,

The horn of the moon is plain to see;

By a firefly under a jonquil flower

A goblin toasts a bumble-bee.

We might be fifty, we might be five,

So snug, so compact, so wise are we!

Under the kitchen-table leg

My knee is pressing against his knee.

Our shutters are shut, the fire is low,

The tap is dripping peacefully;

The saucepan shadows on the wall

Are black and round and plain to see.”

You finish reading the poem and look up at Avery to gauge her reaction. She’s staring at you, a sparkle in her eye and a smile on her lips. She lifts another chip to her mouth and chews thoughtfully, slower than she would normally chew. Silence sat between you both, feeling thicker with every passing second. Finally, she swallowed her chip and laughed.

“He read you a love poem!” she cheered, kicking her feet in glee and falling to her side on the couch. “What year is it! What did you say?”

“I said thank you? And told him it was a nice poem.” She stilled, slowly turning towards you. Suddenly, she kicked out, striking you in the leg. “Hey! What the hell?” 

“You dummy! He read you a love poem and you said thank you? You might as well had said ‘Thanks but the feelings are not mutual!’” She mocked in a mediocre attempt at what you could only guess was your voice. “You’ve better not have blown it. Text him right now, ask him on a date.”

“I’m not going to do that, Avery! It’s fine.” She launched towards you, attempting to snatch the phone from your hands. You shot of the couch, cradling your phone to your chest as you ran to your room. “I’ll see him in two days!”

That night, you dreamt you sat on the porch of a cottage. The moon sat amongst the splatter of stars in the night sky, casting its glow onto you. Next to you sat Percy, dressed in a loose-fitting, white crew neck tucked into high waisted denim jeans. His normally dark, messy curls were tamed, gelled into a side swept wave. He sat with his right hand resting on your left, his fingers fidgeting with a ring on your finger. The stars reflected in his eyes as he turned to look at you. He opened his mouth to speak, but all you could hear was the roar of the sea in the distance. 

The next day, you weren’t able to focus on any of your work. After hours of staring at your books and computer screen, you gave up any semblance of productivity. The weather that evening was significantly warmer than the evening prior. Perfect, I can get out of the house without freezing my ass off, you thought. You got dressed, checked yourself out in the mirror to check that you looked somewhat presentable, and went to leave the apartment. You could hear snores from Avery’s room as you walked down the hallway. She must be taking what she calls her “evening nap”, meaning she’ll be passed out until tomorrow morning. You grabbed your wallet, keys, and jacket and made your way down the block. 

The night was warm, but accompanied by a chill in the breeze. The streets were fairly empty; cars buzzed by while you moseyed along. You weren’t sure where you wanted to go, but when the warm smell of coffee enveloped you, you made up your mind. The aroma of the coffee and pastries filled your senses when you pushed passed the door. The cafe was fairly empty, only a couple of tables were occupied and there was no line. You walked up to the counter and ordered yourself a chamomile tea, hoping it would help calm your anxious mind. 

When you sit with your order, you chuckle, noting the irony of Percy reading you a poem titled after your favorite drink. Time is lost when you drink your tea and read. You had forgotten where you even were until you hear a familiar voice to your right. 

“Is anyone sitting here?” a smooth, low voice asks. You look up, smiling when you met Percy’s bright hazel eyes. He pulled the chair out when you shook your head, sitting after he set his drink down. His chestnut curls fell into his eyes as he sat; he ran his fingers through them, moving them out of his face, before rubbing his pale hand over the shaved side. A lazy smile stretched across his face when he caught you staring. You looked down at your tea, attempting to hide the blush warming your cheeks. 

“I don’t normally see you here. What brings you tonight?” Percy asked, lifting his cup to his full lips and taking a sip. You tracked the motion, acutely aware of the way it made your stomach flip. 

“I was just feeling anxious around the house,” you explain, dropping our eyes and focusing on your hands on the steaming cup in front of you. “My mind has just been racing all day. I thought a walk would help, and then I saw the cafe and thought a tea would help.” There was an understanding look in Percy’s eye, he smiled reassuringly at you and knocked his knee against yours to offer some sort of comfort.

Under the kitchen-table leg, My knee is pressing against his knee.You furrowed your brow when the poem’s lines rang through your head, accompanied by a sense of déjà vu. Percy noticed the change in your demeanor and leaned forward, his hand reaching across the table to hold yours. His hand was unnaturally cold against your warmth.

“I could join you on a walk if you’d like,” he offered gently, his thumb absently rubbing circles into your skin. You nod, standing and pulling your jacket on. “Did you want another tea before we went?”

“Sure, that’d be nice.” Percy quickly stood and moved to the counter. You walked to the trash, listening to him order as you threw your cups away. Did he order you a chamomile? You assumed he would have just ordered you a typical black tea or something; you had never told him you prefered chamomile. Maybe he had noticed the scent of your tea while you both had been sitting. 

Percy met you at the door, two drinks in hand. You took yours and breathed in the warm aroma, confirming that he did indeed order you a chamomile. You were about to ask how he knew when he opened the door and guided you out with a hand on your lower back. That was a new thing he had started doing; touching in general was something knew between you both. You fell into stride alongside him and settled into a comfortable silence. You were the first to talk, your voice soft amongst the sounds of the streets. 

“Do you go there a lot?” you asked, tilting your head back in the direction of the cafe. “M’yeah,” he replied, swallowing a mouthful of his drink. “An old family friend owns the place, Rosie. I try to visit her every evening; it’s definitely easier Tuesdays and Thursdays since its on the way home from your place.”

“Did you grow up here? Is that why your family knows her?” you probed, excited to learn more about Percy’s youth.

“I guess you could say that,” he laughed, “I’ve lived a lot of places, but something always brings me back here.” His fingers brushed against your hand as you both walked, driving the butterflies in your stomach mad. You extended your pinky towards his, chasing the feeling. When your pinkies locked, he adjusted his hand and wove your fingers together. 

“What brings you back?” His thumb began running those lazy circles over your skin again, as if it were an answer. You looked up to him, admiring the contours of his face as you waited for a response. His teeth tugged at his bottom lip while he thought; you focused on the motion, thinking about what his lips might feel like against yours. What his teeth might feel like on your skin. Heat rose to your cheeks at the thoughts and your heart fluttered in your chest. Beside you, Percy let out a shaky breath, gently squeezed your hand and pulled you to a stop . 

“Can I show you one of my favorite places?” he asked, an emotion that you couldn’t place dancing in his eyes.

“Sure,” you answered, “I’d love that.” Percy guided you both through the town, only letting go your hand to let you text Avery your plans. Conversation always flowed naturally between you both, as if you had been friends for years, and this time was no different. You wanted nothing more than to curl up and listen to him talk to hours.

Vibrations pulsing in your pocket brought you out of your daze. You let go of Percy’s hand to shuffle your drink into it as your pulled your phone out. A message from Avery flashed on your screen; you typed in your passcode to read the message.

Did he shake your almond tree yet?  A winky face and some questionable emojis accompanied the text. A snort tore from you when you read the poor innuendo. 

“What’s so funny?” Percy asked, stepping into your space to look at the screen. You locked the screen and turned to face him, not realizing just how close he was.

“Uh, n-nothing,” you stammered nervously, breath hitching in your throat. His eyes flickered to your mouth when you spoke and you watched as his tongue darted out to run along his lower lip. You bit your own as you looked from his mouth back up to his eyes. 

“Ah, well we should continue then, we’re almost there,” he murmured huskily. You let out a noise, hoping it was one of agreement, and started walking with him. When you finally saw where he was taking you, you couldn’t breathe. You had been here before. At least, in your dreams you had been here. An old cottage sat in the distance, overlooking the sea. A misty breeze welcomed you the closer you got, sending chills through you. You walked closer to Percy, searching for a warmth he didn’t have. 

Once you were at the cottage, Percy pulled you to sit on the porch with him. Images of your dream flashed through your mind, Percy sitting, his hand atop yours, as you both looked up into the night sky. 

“I feel like I’ve been here before,” you confessed, turning to meet his eyes. His hand moved to rest on yours, urging you to continue. “I don’t know why, Percy, but everything about you just seems so familiar.”

“That’s a good thing, I hope,” he said hopefully. You nodded and turned your face upwards, basking in the glow of the bright moon. 

“The best thing.” “A toast then!” Percy exclaims, a clap sounding his joy. You laughed, watching him pick up his now cold drink. You followed suit, picking up your tea. He turned to face, drink raised. “To familiarity!” “To familiarity!” you repeated, raising your cup to tap his. He pulled his cup back, not letting yours touch his. 

“And to you, my bumble-bee.” His cup tapped yours, but you didn’t feel it. All your senses clouded, your head spun. Hands steadied you, but you barely felt them. Visions flooded your mind, visions of you and Percy. Percy, in his waistcoat, walking you through a garden filled with roses. Percy, in a pale suit and straw boater hat, walking with you through the bustling city. Percy, with his white crew neck tee and high waisted jeans, having tea with you on the beach. Percy, in his fitted peacoat, drinking tea with you on the porch at your cottage by the sea.

Your cottage by the sea. The cottage Percy surprised you with after your wedding, knowing how much you loved walking along the shores at night. The cottage where you now sat, remembering every life you’ve lived with Percy. Every life where you had forgotten he existed, only for him to find you and help you remember.

“My bumble-bee,” he murmured again, moving his hand to cup your face. You nuzzle into it, inhaling his earthy scent and kissing his palm. His thumb ran along your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t felt fall. “You remember?”

You did. You remembered every time you met him. Every time you loved him. Every time he asked you to join him, to take the bite and live with him forever. Every time you said no, too afraid to lose your humanity. 

“I do,” you whispered, leaning into him. When he smiled, you noticed his fangs were out. You reached up and ran your fingers along them, careful to not let them prick your finger. Percy playfully bit at them before kissing them gently. 

“Something always bring me back,” he cooed, pulling your face closer to him. “Come here.” His lips brush yours and the world fell away. All you knew was the feel of Percy holding you, his scent flooding your senses. His thumb caressed your cheek as he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours. 

“I missed you so much, my sweet,” he breathed, “Every new life is more difficult than the last. I was starting to think you wouldn’t remember this time.” The sadness in his voice made your chest ache. You didn’t want Percy to have to feel that sadness, not because of you.

“Maybe this time, I stay.” Percy stilled, letting a moment pass before sitting back and holding your gaze. You couldn’t read the emotions flashing through his eyes. You sucked in a slow breath before continuing, “I think this time I’m ready for you to change me. I don’t want to forget you again.” Percy pulled you to his lap, cradling you against his chest. He pressed a kiss into your hair and rested there, breathing in your scent. 

“Oh, my bumble-bee, I’ve waited for hundreds of years to hear those words.” He kissed you again, slow and soft, conveying the emotions his words couldn’t. He pulled away, panting slightly. “But there’s still time; you don’t have to make that decision yet.”

“I love you,” you whisper, nuzzling your head into his neck. He was right, there was still time to decide, but you’ve already made up your mind. He wouldn’t have to ask you again because this time, you wouldn’t be leaving him.

#exophilia #exophili #monster boyfriend #vampire boyfriend #my fic #stories #my writing #fluff #sfw #monster lover

[shianhygge-imagines]

Masterlist Format 3.0

So, once a year, I try to redo my Masterlist to make it look better.

I’m doing away with the old system, though I’m still sticking with the old “NUMERICAL-ALPHABETICAL ORDER” for the fandom names. I will, however, be listing chapters in the order that they are meant to be read.

{C} = Completed      {O} = Ongoing      {H} = Hiatus        

{E} = Experimental        {A} = Abandoned        {R} = Request

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Bungou Stray Dogs 文豪ストレイドッグス

Reactions

{R} Where Do Babies Come From, Mister?    |Link here|

{E} Jonquil [Kunikida/Reader] (Hanahaki Prompt)    |Link here|

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Destiny

{O} Thin Line 

Choosing a Side    |Link here|

Guardian Games    |Link here|

{E} If I Had A Heart [Cayde-6/Reader]    |Link here|

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Devil May Cry

Headcanons

Cooking with the DMC Crew    |Link here|

Dating the DMC Boys    |Link here|

ASMR with the DMC Crew    |Link here|

Waking up with the DMC Crew    |Link here|

That Time of the Month with the Sons of Sparda    |Link here|

Reactions

{R} So... You dropped the Nutella    |Link here|

{R} S/O Sacrifice    |Link here|

{R} The Kids Are Alright    |Link here|

{R} S/O Sacrifice Scramble    |Link here|

Devils Never Cry (Non-canon oneshots) All posted before March 8, 2019

Prompt 1: Vergil’s wife finds out about Nero    |Link here|

Prompt 2 Reader’s reaction to seeing Vergil again    |Link here|

Prompt 3: Reader confronts Vergil at the end of DMC5    |Link here|

{E} Devil May Cry x Among Us [Crossover Reader-centric series]

Playing the Game    |Link here|

{O}{E} Black Rose [V/GenderNeutral Reader]

The House on the Outskirts    |Link here|

{O} Silver Rose [Vergil/Fem!Reader] (Devils Never Cry, except canon accurate)

Where it All Began    |Link here|

The Power to Protect    |Link here|

Hope    |Link here|

Nothing Dies Like It    |Link here|

Sabbatical    |Link here|  

Gifts    |Link here|

Imposter    |Link here|

Doubt and Trust    |Link here|

Nero    |Link here|

The New Contract    |Link here|

Splitting Fool    |Link here|

The Demon Half    |Link here|    

The Mortal Half  {NSFW}    |Link here|

Umbral Angelo    |Link here|

Bury the Light    |Link here|   

-coming soon-

Silver Rose Related Reactions & Headcanons

{R} Habits & Catchphrase! (Vergil Reacts)    |Link here|

Silver Rose: Cafe AU    |Link here|

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Detroit: Become Human

Headcanons

Deviants want bad skin    |Link here|

{C} For Love [Connor/Reader]    |Link here|

{H} Reason Living [Connor/Fem!Reader]

You Chose Another Path    |Link here|

So Close Yet So Far    |Link here|

{E} Sweet Dreams [Markus/Fem!Reader]    |Link here|

{E} Invoke [Hank/Android!Reader]    |Link here|

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Diabolik Lovers

{E} VoiD [undecided/Reader]

Prologue    |Link here|

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Final Fantasy XV

Headcanons

Relationship w/ Chocobros (Some minor NSFW)    |Link here|

{R} Kissing the Chocobros    |Link here|

King Regis    |Link here|

Studying    |Link here|

{R} Relationship w/ Ravus    |Link here|

{R} Holiday w/ Chocobros    |Link here|

{R} When Ignis Proposes    |Link here|

Regalia Designs    |Link here|

{R} Ardyn’s Daughter    |Link here|

Afterlife    |Link here|

Starscourge Analysis    |Link here|

Character Reactions

{R} Being Fathers [Ravus & Ardyn]    |Link here|

{R} Smol Chocobo Reader [Chocobros]    |Link here|

{C} Shian’s Middlemarch (Finding Love in Unexpected Places)

{R} The Middlemarch [One-sided Noctis/Reader]    |Link here|

The Case of Cor [Mentor!Cor Leonis/Reader]    |Link here|

The Case of Ravus [Ravus/Reader]    |Link here|

{R} The Case of the Brotherhood [Chocobros/Reader]    |Link here|

{R} Middlemarch Alternate Universe [Ravus/Reader]    |Part 1|      |Part 2| 

{C} Amor Sempiternus Duology (Latin: “everlasting love”) [Ardyn/Reader]

I. Ephemeral    |Link here|

II. Eternal    |Link here|

{R} {A} Imaginary Lover Series (NSFW) [Ardyn/Reader]

Sin 1. First Interaction    |Link here|

Sin 2. Temptation    |Link here|

{C} {R} Evermore Duology (”You don’t know a good thing until it’s gone”) [Ravus/Reader]

Q.E.D    |Link here|

I Will Be    |Part 1|      |Part 2|

{C} {R} Divine Intervention (AU to “Relationship w/Ravus”)    |Link here|

{C} {R} Rinne [Ignis/Fem!Reader]    |Link here|

{H} Claymore Series [Ignis/Fem!Reader]

Prelude One    |Link here|

Prelude Two    |Link here|

Act 1    |Link here|

{C} {R} Calling [Gladio/Fem!Reader]    |Link here|

{C} {R} Home [Nyx/Reader] (Headcanon format)    |Link here|

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shian and Hikigaya’s Photo Commentary

Magical Girl Gladio    |Link here|

The Prince’s Natural Habitat    |Link here|

Shian’s Theories on Ardyn’s Backstory    |Part 1|      |Part 2|

Shian’s Thoughts on an Ardyn DLC    |Link here|

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Final Fantasy VII

Headcanons

{R} Dating Genesis Rhapsodos    |Link here|

{R} Dating Sephiroth    |Link here|

{R} Dating Angeal Hewley    |Link here|

{R} NSFW Sephiroth    |Link here|

Dating Rufus Shinra    |Link here|

{C} The Letter - 手紙  [???/Reader]    |Link here|  -coming soon-

{C} Divide/Together   [???/Reader]    |Link here|  -coming soon-

Sundown 勿忘草   [Reno/Reader] 

Episode 1    |Link here|

Episode 2    |Link here|

{C} Ash [Sephiroth/ReaderOC]

Act 1    |Link here|

Act 2    |Link here|

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Haikyuu!!!

{E} Aberrant [???/OC]

Prologue    |Link here|

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NBC’s Hannibal

{E} {Deleted} A Monster Among Monsters [Mentor!Hannibal/Reader]

Diamond Heart   

This Is The Moment   

{O} The Referral [Mentor!Hannibal/Reader]

Session 1    |Link here|

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Hetalia

{E} Taking A Chance [Various Countries/Reader]

Denmark    |Link here|

{E} Finding Peace (A Hetalia Haunting Story)

Voice of Reason [England]    |Link here|

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Kimetsu no Yaiba 鬼滅の刃 - Demon Slayer 

Headcanons

Meeting the Kamaboko Squad    |Link here|

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Kingdom Hearts

{E} Faded [Riku/Reader] (Angst)    |Link here|

{E} Enter the Darkness [Vanitas/Reader]    |Link here|

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Overwatch

{E} Fable [???/Reader]

Entry 1    |Link here|

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Persona 3

{E} Living with Determination [Shinjiro/Reader/Akihiko]    |Link here|

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Persona 5

Headcanons

Studying with the Phantom Thieves of Heart    |Link here|

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Resident Evil

{R} Shian: On Ada/Leon    |Link here|

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RWBY

{E} Balance [Qrow/Reader] (Angst)    |Link here|

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Watch_Dogs 2

Headcanons

{R} Snuggling w/ Wrench    |Link here|

{R} Holiday w/ Josh    |Link here|

{R} Getting Mugged [Wrench/Reader]    |Link here|

{R} Sick Week [DedSec S/O]    |Link here|

{R} Sex w/ Wrench (NSFW)    |Link here|

Customer Escalations w/ DedSec    |Link here|

{R} Male!Reader/Wrench Relationship    |Link here|

{C} Project Wrench Your Heart (Wrench with a large helping of Angst)

How Close You Are (Angst)    |Part 1|      |Part 2|      |Part 3|

{R} Your First (NSFW)    |Link here|

{R} This I Promise You (Fluff)    |Link here|

{R} Don’t Leave (Fluff)    |Link here|

{R} By Your Side (Pregnancy Scare)    |Link here|

Est-ce Que Tu M’aimes?    |Link here|

Climbing the Walls    |Link here|

{R} In the Name of Love    |Part 1|      |Part 2|      |Part 3|      |Part 4|

So Far Away    |M.1|

{C} {R} Now Kiss [Wrench/Reader] (Fluff)    |Link here|

{C} {R} Lies [Wrench/Reader] (Angst)    |Link here|

{C} {R} Hardships Included [Wrench/Reader]    |Link here|

{C} {R} Unavailable [Marcus/Reader] (Comfort/Fluff)    |Link here|

{C} {R} In A World Like This [Josh/Reader] (Fluff)    |Link here|

{C} {R} Breathe [Josh/Reader] (Lime)    |Link here|

{E} {R} Busted and Blue [Wrench/Reader] (Hurt/Comfort)    |Link here|

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The Witcher [Wiedźmin]

{H} The Difference (A Witcher Story)

Prologue: I’m Too Sober    |Link here|

Chapter 1: No Room For Morals    |Link here|

Chapter 2: An Eye For An Eye    |Link here|

Chapter 3: Trouble Will Find You    |Link here|

Chapter 4: A Brief Respite    |Link here|

Chapter 5: Uma    |Link here|

Chapter 6: Geralt Has Stepped Out    |Link here|

Chapter 7: Something Mundane    |Link here|

Chapter 8: Awaken the Monster Within    |Link here|    

Chapter 9: Quest Start-The Bark of Another    |Link here| 

Chapter 10: The Burden of Living    |Link here|    -coming soon-

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薄桜鬼 〜新選組奇譚〜 Hakuouki

Dating Headcanons

Kazama Chikage    |Link here|

Saito Hajime    |Link here|

Hijikata Toshizou    |Link here|

Okita Souji    |Link here|

{R} Harada Sanosuke    |Link here|

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Original Work

{E} 夜は眠れるかい？    |Link here|

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#shianhygge #shian imagines #shian's masterlist #masterlist #destiny imagines #destiny 2 forsaken #devil may cry imagines #devil may cry #dmc #devil may cry 5 #devil may cry 3 #detroit: become human #detroit: become human imagines #final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv imagines #final fantasy xv headcanons #final fantasy vii #final fantasy vii imagines #hetalia #hetalia imagines #overwatch #overwatch imagines #persona 3 #persona 3 imagines #persona 5 #persona 5 imagines #watch dogs 2 #watch dogs 2 imagines #watch dogs 2 headcanons #the witcher

[blueberrypancakesworld]

House of the dragon - Masterlist

Info : All my works for hotd and more characters are added

--------------------------------

Request

°Green Flames->Son of Daemon and Mysaria, angst, hurt/comfort

°The bewitched->Blind son of Aemma Arryn, angst, hurt/comfort

°Cohesion of blood->Twin sister of Aemma Aryyn, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

°The true heir->Daughter of Rhaenyra and Laenor, hurt/comfort, emotional, angst, fluff

°The other daughter->Adoptive daughter of Aemma, emotional, hurt/comfort, angst

°By the gods->Rhaenyras cousin, fluff, comfort

°Loss of the wrong blood->Daughter of Rhaenyra and Laenor, emotional, fluff/comfort, angst

-------------------

Aemond

°The promise->aemonds wife, hurt, angst, emotional, death

°Little flower->female tyrell reader, obsession, dark, death, one sided feelings

°My flowers->fem reader, obsession, dark themes, one sided relationship, pregnancy, sequel to Little flower

°I was your flower->fem reader, obsession, death, angst, hurt

-------------------------

Daemon

°A present->fem reader, daemon is obssed with the reader, angst

-------------------------

Rhaenyra

Coming soon

------------------------

Alicent

Coming soon

------------------------

Aegon the second

°The farewell before the war ->fem reader , targaryen incest, fluff, kissing

-----------------------

Jacaerys

Coming soon

----------------------

Helaena

°Don't become a dream to me->fem reader, angst, comfort, character death

----------------------

Edit

°Lucemond

°Lucerys Velaryon

--------------------

Other/multiple/non listed characters

°Advent Calendar Door.3

°Advent Calendar Door.15

°My Treasure - Lucemond

°Never wake a sleeping Dragon->fem reader, yandere viserys, hurt/comfort, obsession, dark

°hotd characters comforting you before the war->fem reader, fluff, comfort

°types of hotd men as yandere ->fem reader, yandere, dark themes

°Risen under false dragons ->Viserys iii x fem!reader , hurt/comfort, falling in love, hurt viserys

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Targaryen Tuesday

°I will protect you in the time to come - Aegon Targaryen (Son of Aenys I) x fem!reader -> fluff, comfort

°Between the books is love - Vaegon Targaryen x fem!reader -> fluff, comfort, tiny angst

°Shadow, Shield, Snake and Sword - Jonquil Darke x fem!reader ->fluff, comfort, swordtraining, kinda flirting if you look closely

°Beauty on cold eyes and scarred skin - Merris x fem!reader ->fluff, hurt/comfort, kiss

°Arrows of love - Satin x fem!redaer -> fluff, comfort, angst, kissing

°Vaegon in a relationship SFW/NSFW

---------------------

#house of the dragon #hotd #request #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #daemon targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #aegon ii targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #helena targaryen #targaryentuesday

[joannalannister]

Hi I was thinking about Jon x Dany and, while I do like them in the show, they had very few scenes where romance was part of the equation. While I 100% think they’ll also get together in the books, I’m a little worried. GRRM isn’t that great with romance. I’m afraid he’ll make Jon x Dany too toxic. Given the romantic history of both characters, I’m having trouble imaging them in a healthy enough relationship. Do you have any thoughts about this? Hope you do : ) Your writing is always awesome!

Thanks for asking me, you’re very kind. As much as I would like to reassure you, I must start by saying that GRRM is never going to write a relationship that everyone is 100% happy with. 

“GRRM isn’t that great with romance.” I’m not sure what this means. This isn’t a criticism of you, I know you’re constrained by character limits, but I think we should explore this assertion before proceeding.  

What is romance? Wikipedia defines it as “an emotional feeling of love for another person and the courtship behaviors undertaken to express that overall feeling […]. Although […] widely associated with sexual attraction, romantic feelings can exist without expectation of physical consummation”. 

I think GRRM is very good at conveying his characters’ emotions, including their feelings of love. For example, when Jon Connington remembers Myles Toyne, it makes my heart ache:

Myles had been possessed of jug ears, a crooked jaw, and the biggest nose that Jon Connington had ever seen. When he smiled at you, though, none of that mattered.

And in the Dunk & Egg stories, Dunk’s innocent and sweet “not too tall for me” captures not only Dunk’s feelings but also the essence of his character. 

And this romantic moment is one of my favorites:

And there was one woman, sitting almost at the foot of the third table on the left … the wife of one of the Fossoways, he thought, and heavy with his child. Her delicate beauty was in no way diminished by her belly, nor was her pleasure in the food and frolics. Tyrion watched as her husband fed her morsels off his plate. They drank from the same cup, and would kiss often and unpredictably. Whenever they did, his hand would gently rest upon her stomach, a tender and protective gesture.

And if you want one of the main characters, well, this passage rips my heart in two, knowing what monstrous things Tywin has in store for these two innocent teenagers:

He dreamed of a better place, a snug little cottage by the sunset sea. The walls were lopsided and cracked and the floor had been made of packed earth, but he had always been warm there, even when they let the fire go out. She used to tease me about that, he remembered. I never thought to feed the fire, that had always been a servant’s task. “We have no servants,” she would remind me, and I would say, “You have me, I’m your servant,” [that’s some Princess Bride shit right there with Tyrion Lannister as Westley] and she would say, “A lazy servant. What do they do with lazy servants in Casterly Rock, my lord?” and he would tell her, “They kiss them.” That would always make her giggle. “They do not neither. They beat them, I bet,” she would say, but he would insist, “No, they kiss them, just like this.” He would show her how. “They kiss their fingers first, every one, and they kiss their wrists, yes, and inside their elbows. Then they kiss their funny ears, all our servants have funny ears. Stop laughing! And they kiss their cheeks and they kiss their noses with the little bump in them, there, so, like that, and they kiss their sweet brows and their hair and their lips, their … mmmm … mouths … so …”

They would kiss for hours, and spend whole days doing no more than lolling in bed, listening to the waves, and touching each other. Her body was a wonder to him, and she seemed to find delight in his. Sometimes she would sing to him. I loved a maid as fair as summer, with sunlight in her hair. “I love you, Tyrion,” she would whisper before they went to sleep at night. “I love your lips. I love your voice, and the words you say to me, and how you treat me gentle. I love your face.”

So I don’t think I can agree with you that GRRM isn’t great with romance. Maybe these particular examples didn’t resonate with you, but was there really nothing in the books that tugged at your heart romantically? Not even Renly and Loras’s relationship, from your URL?

But when you say GRRM isn’t great with romance, maybe it’s the romanticized moments you really mean? 

For example, in ACOK, during the Battle of the Blackwater, Sandor waits for Sansa in her room, and he holds her at knifepoint until she sings him a song. I think this scene is about trauma more than it’s about romance. Sandor has been dehumanized by the Lannisters for so long, treated as one of their dogs of war, that he’s forgotten what it means to be human and he’s forgotten how to connect with people. So when Sandor tries to form a connection with Sansa, he does so through violence, because that’s the only way he remembers how. 

But GRRM doesn’t write that scene romantically in my opinion:

Her throat was dry and tight with fear, and every song she had ever known had fled from her mind. Please don’t kill me, she wanted to scream, please don’t. She could feel him twisting the point, pushing it into her throat, and she almost closed her eyes again, but then she remembered. It was not the song of Florian and Jonquil, but it was a song. Her voice sounded small and thin and tremulous in her ears.

Gentle Mother, font of mercy, save our sons from war, we pray, stay the swords and stay the arrows, let them know a better day.Gentle Mother, strength of women, help our daughters through this fray, soothe the wrath and tame the fury, teach us all a kinder way.

It’s Sansa singing about kindness and gentleness and mercy that reminds Sandor of his humanity. 

And of course, later, Sansa romanticizes this event, imagining that Sandor kissed her:

As the boy’s lips touched her own she found herself thinking of another kiss. She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak.

But that’s how Sansa deals with her trauma, by romanticizing it, by rewriting it as a fairy tale. 

Perhaps you would have preferred a stronger condemnation of this event (or similar events) by the text? But I think GRRM knows he has very smart, engaged readers. He doesn’t have to spell it out for us; we know this is a fucked up situation. 

Personally it isn’t the romance I consider to be one of GRRM’s problem areas, it’s the physical consummation. 

For example, GRRM doesn’t seem to be aware that most of the rapes he wrote didn’t occur during war, so does he even realize that some of the stuff he wrote was rape? I can’t find the interview right now, but I believe GRRM commented on how the show changed Drogo and Dany’s wedding night to a rape scene, and GRRM kind of … distances … himself from that decision … as if GRRM didn’t write Dany being raped repeatedly by Drogo during the early days of her marriage. 

Also, the altar sex scene between Jaime and Cersei is still very controversial. (I have a lot of thoughts about Jaime and Cersei’s sex scenes and what they mean for their relationship, but I can’t deal with tumblr’s wank culture right now.) 

Also, it’s been over a year and I still haven’t recovered from this:

she walked toward him, her hips shifting forward with each step, as if her pussy were coming to him, the rest of her trailing behind reluctantly.

“as if her pussy were coming to him, the rest of her trailing behind reluctantly”

Someone really should draw this vagina monster because i can’t get it out of my mind. 

Anyways.

While I disagree with you about the romance, I will say that GRRM’s sex scenes aren’t always the best. But in GRRM’s defense, some of his sex scenes are quite lovely imo:

Not a happy conversation, maybe, but a human one. Both of us needed someone, and we reached out. Afterwards, I took her back to my cabin, and made love to her as fiercely as I could. Then, the darkness softened, we held each other and talked away the night.

So I would say it’s a mixed bag in terms of the sex scenes. 

What will a sex scene between Jon and Dany look like in the books? 

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Dunno. Will there even be a sex scene between Jon and Dany in the books? I think so, but it’s not a given. We’ll just have to wait and see. 

Will Jon x Dany be too toxic in the books? 

I don’t find “toxic” to be terribly useful when it comes to evaluating fiction. Again, this isn’t a criticism, so I hope you aren’t offended, but this word for me is too vague, too lacking in complexity, and worst of all, too dichotomizing. Labeling something “toxic” tends to sort ships into easily-defined categories, with the “toxic” ones to be discarded on the midden heap in search of something ~pure~, as if such purity existed outside the blandest coffee shop AU. 

The “toxic” label tempts us into a mindset where certain literary relationships are perceived to have no value. “toxic” becomes the end of the conversation for tumblr, when it should be just the beginning. The relationship in Oedipus Rex is certainly “toxic” by any definition of the word, so what is it about this story that has endured for centuries? The fandom police on tumblr wouldn’t be asking that question; they would just ban the story for its lack of moral purity, and we would be all the poorer for it. 

(See also: fandom’s discussion of Renly. It’s the end of a conversation, when it should be the beginning.) 

So let’s set “toxic” aside. 

“Given the romantic history of both characters“ Again, I’m not entirely sure what this means. 

Dany was sold to Drogo and raped. Jorah pines for Dany. Daario is … Daario. Hizdahr was a marriage of convenience. But what do these relationships have to do with Jon Snow? 

And what does Ygritte have to do with Dany? 

I mean, I suppose there is some commonality here. Jon fell in love with Ygritte while he was little more than a captive, and Dany fell in love with Drogo while she basically was Drogo’s captive. So, like … yeah, these weren’t the best situations … but … I don’t think GRRM is trying to write “Guidelines for Relationships and Consent for the College Freshman”. 

Like, Jon’s relationship with Ygritte certainly has some consent issues, and these issues are definitely worth talking about, but tumblr uses these issues to shut down the conversation, as if we need to throw this fictional relationship in the garbage and wash our hands of it. As if there’s no value to it. As if GRRM isn’t trying to say something profound about Jon falling in love with a people he was raised to believe were his enemy. 

In real life, I hope nobody is in a relationship with consent issues. But in fiction … human beings are flawed, and our relationships are flawed too. Its these flaws that breathe life onto the page. 

For me, Jon and Dany’s romantic history is thematically important to ASOIAF as a whole. Each of them have loved and lost, but they haven’t become hardened by it. They remain in the world, and a part of it. Our heroes’ hearts remain open. There is room for many loves in their lives. Contrast this against villainous Tywin, who had room for one love, and one love only, and once it was gone, he denied love. One of the questions I think ASOIAF asks is, how much love do you have to give? And what would you do, for love? Because that isn’t just Jaime’s self-loathing line, it’s a question central to the series. 

So, for me, Jon and Dany’s romantic history isn’t an impediment. It’s proof to me that they love, and that they can keep opening themselves to love, even in the worst circumstances. (Because let me tell you, circumstances are about to get much worse.)

“I’m having trouble imaging them in a healthy enough relationship.“

What is a healthy relationship with an Undead Zombie? (Coming into contact with Jon’s rotting flesh can’t be that healthy imo.) 

What is a healthy relationship with a messianic girl who made miracles? 

What is a healthy relationship, at the end of the world? 

I’m sorry, I truly, sincerely hope I am not hurting your feelings, and I am terribly sorry if I have hurt your feelings, but you asked for my thoughts: 

For me the question of whether Jon and Dany will have a healthy relationship seems … absurd. Not because “healthy” seems obvious**, but because “healthy” seems irrelevant at the end of the world. 

**It’s not obvious, because I don’t even know what “healthy” means in the apocalypse. What is a healthy relationship, at the end of the world? That was not a rhetorical question, because I really, truly don’t know what “healthy” means at the end of the world. 

If the world is coming to an end, there are so many things that I would ask that are so much more important to me than “are they healthy?”

Like. Put the show out of your mind. Completely. Pretend you never saw it, because I don’t think Jon and Dany look like that. I don’t think Jon and Dany look like that at all in the books. 

I don’t think it’s about Jon and Dany vying for a throne, I don’t even think the Iron Throne is going to exist anymore. I don’t think it’s about stupid wight hunts, I don’t think it’s about fighting over dragonglass, I don’t think it’s about having sex on a boat. I don’t think it’s about fighting the evil Other King, because he doesn’t exist in the books, because in the books, the true enemy is a force of dehumanization. It’s an enemy we’re all capable of becoming, and something we all have to fight. 

I don’t think King’s Landing is even going to be there. I think Cersei’s going to be dead. I think the southern half of the continent is largely going to be dead or dying, while the northern half wishes they were. I think GRRM can write a sense of desperation that will have you clawing at your face with one hand while you can’t stop turning the pages with the other. 

And I don’t think Jon and Dany get “together” until this desperation grabs us in its lizard-lion jaws and refuses to let us go. I don’t think Jon and Dany really get “together” until they’re beyond the curtain of light, in another world, an Other world, a fairy realm that is grotesquely beautiful and strange and cold. A place of impossible angles that hurt you to think about them, and strange labyrinths where you lose yourself in more ways than one, and terrible, terrible cruelty. 

The heroes are alone (possibly with Tyrion) in a place that’s the opposite of the Garden of Eden.

And in this place, I think they’re all struggling to remember their humanity, struggling to remember why they ever came there in the first place, struggling to remember why they should even care. Why should Jon try to save a world that would murder him for helping? Why should Tyrion try to save a world that branded him a monster from birth? Why should a queen try to protect her people, when (I think, speculating wildly from scraps of the show) they reject her as their queen?

”Remember who you are“

When they’ve lost even themselves in this strange place beyond the end of the world … there are so many important questions to ask. 

To me, the most important question is, will there be love? Love is our greatest glory, the greatest expression of our humanity, our greatest strength in the face of an alien species that wants to eradicate humanity. Without love, I think Jon and Dany (and Tyrion) are doomed to failure, and the world along with them. Saving the world has to be an act of love. Self-love, and altruistic love, and romantic love, and all sorts. 

My next question is, will there be kindness?  In Westeros, as in our world, kindness is a rare gem. We each have only so much time, and I hope everyone spreads as much kindness as possible in the time they have, even if that time is only fictional. I hope Jon and Dany will be kind to each other. 

Will there be trust? Together, humanity is so much greater than the sum of its parts. I hope Jon and Dany realize this. I hope they find a way to work together. I hope they can rely on each other. 

Will they have given it their all? Will they realize their full potential? I hope Jon and Dany get the chance to do everything in their power, and I hope they leave this world without regrets. I hope they rage against the dying of the light. 

Will they find comfort in each other, at the end? I don’t think Jon and Dany are making it out of this alive, but I hope they hold each other, and soften the darkness, and talk away the night. 

I don’t know what Jon and Dany will be like, but I can hope.

I personally wouldn’t worry about Jon and Dany’s relationship in the books yet, because it hasn’t even been written yet. I have faith in GRRM, and I’m going to give him the benefit of the doubt. If I’m wrong, there will be plenty of time to critique this relationship after it’s published. 

***

I’m sorry if this doesn’t answer your question. I’m also really sorry if I made you feel bad, I hope I didn’t, but I’m sorry if I did. (Please tell me that I didn’t, or else I will fret.)

I have a tag for discussions of Jon and Dany’s relationship, if you want to read more of my thoughts: #jdmeta

#thank you! you're very kind #gameofthronesrenlyxlorasforever #replies #jdmeta #lannister thoughts #jon x dany #dany x jon #jon snow #daenerys targaryen

[vodika-vibes]

Hello my dear Vod’ika! Tis I, 💋 anon! First, congratulations on your first follower event!

Maybe I please have jonquil (please return my affection) and dark pink rose (gratitude) with Echo and F!Reader? Some fluffy, soft cuteness with Echo being in love with her and he finally tells her when they have a quiet moment together?

Love your writing 🩵🩵

Pen and Sword, my dear!

Love,

-💋 anon

@kiss-anon

So This Is Love

Summary: You invited Echo to go stargazing, and hidden feelings come to light.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 975

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @kiss-anon

A/N: The words didn't wanna word this morning, so I'm very sorry if this isn't the quality that you prefer from me. Still, I hope you like it!

“You’re staring, Echo.” You say with a warm grin as you turn to look at the man sitting next to you. The man who’s supposed to be watching the stars with you, but instead has been watching you for the last ten minutes.

“Well, how could I not?” Echo asks, amusement crossing his handsome face, “I see the stars all of the time, but I only get to see you every now and then.”

You shake your head and laugh quietly, “You’re being silly. I’m not anywhere as pretty as the stars.”

“Hm. Agree to disagree,” Echo counters.

This time you laugh louder, “Alright, alright.” You grin at him, “Thank you for coming with me.” You pause, “Actually, thank you for always humoring my weird requests.”

“None of your requests have been overly weird, I don’t think.” Echo replies.

You squint at him suspiciously, “What about the time I asked you to help me look for Moon Flowers at midnight.”

He pauses, “I…got to spend time with you, and we had fun.”

You laugh and lean against his shoulder, “You’re something of a soft touch, Echo.”

“I am not!” He sputters as he bumps you with his shoulder, “I’m considerate.” He adds primly. 

“Uh-huh, that too.” You say with a grin, as you settle your weight against his shoulder, “Still, I appreciate it.”

“Well, you don’t have to. I like spending time with you. You’re so much more interesting than my brothers.”

“That’s mean.”

“You haven’t met my brothers,” Echo says dryly.

“I’ve met…Fives and Jesse! I think.”

“That is true. I’m sorry about that.”

You laugh, “They’re not that bad. A little…intense, I suppose, but not hard to get along with.”

He smiles at you, “I’m glad you like them, honestly.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

Echo flushes and averts his gaze, “Ah…not reason. I just like that my friend doesn’t hate my twin.”

“Echo?” You lean over slightly to look him in the face, “Are you lying to me?” You ask, startled.

“...maybe, just a little.”

“Oh, come on, Echo! It’s me! I’m not going to judge you for what you say.” You pause, “Oh! Is it Fives? Does he have a crush on me?”

“Fives has a girlfriend who he’s completely obsessed with.” Echo says quickly.

“Then why does it matter if I like them or not?” You prod as you lean across him so you’re able to look him in the eye.

Echo stares at you, long and hard, for a lot longer than he normally would, and then he laughs softly.

“Echo?”

He lifts his hands and presses them against your cheeks, gently squishing them. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

“Oh. Thank you.” You reply with a bright smile. “You’re not too bad looking either.”

“I have good genes,” Echo jokes, as he loosens his grip slightly.

“You definitely have those,” You say with a laugh.

Echo stares at you for a moment, and then a quiet curse falls from his lips, before he leans in and presses his lips, feather light, against yours.

You’re so surprised that you topple across his lap and have to roll so that you’re looking up at him, your eyes wide in surprise, “Echo?”

“I suppose I should have given you some warning,” He jokes softly, as he looks down at you, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on your cheeks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You smile up at him, your face heated with flustered embarrassment, “You just surprised me. But, why did you-?”

“I love you.”

Your words die in your throat and you blink at Echo, startled, “I…oh….thank you?”

Echo shoots you an odd look, “You’re welcome?”

“I, wait. No. That’s not-” You pause and squeeze your eyes shut, “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant to say. Give me a second to-” You take a deep breath, to settle your nerves, “Okay. You can tell me what you need to tell me.”

He watches you evenly, a small smile on his lips, “I love you.” Echo repeats, “I love how excited you get about little things, like that purple frog you got a picture of the other day. I love how you have no qualms about dragging me to help you find things that don’t exist. I love how you’re able to find beauty in everything, even things that aren’t beautiful.”

Your face heats even more, and you roll to press your face against his stomach, “Echo! You’re embarrassing me!”

“Deal with it.” He says with a grin, which softens as he brushes his hand through your hair, “I love how you’re always so happy to see me. And nothing would make me happier than you returning my affection.”

You sling your arms around his waist, “You’re asking for such a small thing Echo!”

“It doesn’t feel small.” He replies quietly, “It feels like everything.”

You don’t say anything for a moment as you tighten your arms around him, “I love you too.” You finally admit, “I have for a while.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Was…embarrassed.” You mumble, “Didn’t think you felt the same. Didn’t think you would feel the same.”

“Will you look at me? Please, cyare?”

You loosen your grip and roll so your head is resting on his lap again, he has a wide smile on his face, and you’re helpless but to smile back, “I’m glad I was wrong,” You whisper.

Echo laughs softly, “I am too.” He brushes some hair out of your eyes, “So, what do you think? Want to be my girlfriend?”

“Yes, please.” You whisper. And then you squeak as Echo effortlessly moves you so that you’re sitting on his lap.

“Good, that means I can kiss you again, right?”

And your face burns as you press it against his shoulder, but you have a grin on your lips and you nod eagerly.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower celebration #arc trooper echo x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

[fallinnflower]

drift away

joshua x reader (angst, non-idol!au, hanahaki!au) 

a/n: tw, mention of blood

Two years. They say that’s the expiration date for most relationships. You thought you were past that, a year and a half past that, because you still woke up every morning just as happy to see him beside you as the first time. 

And you don’t notice anything changing, not really. He talks to you the same way, he isn’t on his phone suspiciously, he doesn’t go out more often than before — it’s just him, your boyfriend, as he’s always been. You like to think that the increased comfort level between you is just a sign that you’re both in for the long haul of domestic life. 

But then the unthinkable happens.

Everyone knows about Hanahaki Disease, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a stigma surrounding it, and so when you first feel the unnatural clawing feeling in your chest you try desperately to convince yourself it’s nothing. And it must be, you think, when it dims after a few days. Just a phantom itch, a cold that passed through as the seasons changed, because you’re still in love with the same person.

Nothing has changed. Nothing will change. You’re confident of this, comfortable with your lot in life, and as the summer continues to wear into the fall you find yourself thinking about the future. 

You’ve never had Hanahaki. It took you a long time to develop feelings for someone, and the disease only comes with strong emotions; you have to be in love, or close to it, to contract it. 

The itching sensation returns in the midst of fall. You’re at work when you feel it, first a scratching in your chest and then a burning, as you excuse yourself from a debriefing meeting when you can’t seem to stop coughing. Bent over the sink, you see a thin spray of blood leave your lips, and look into your own reflected, tired eyes. 

It isn’t Hanahaki, you tell yourself. It can’t be. It must be something else. You’ll work through it, you’ll go see a doctor and you’ll get a prescription and everything will be fine. 

You have Joshua Hong, the love of your life, by your side, you note, smiling. It will be alright. 

The doctor takes blood tests and examines your throat. Your boyfriend couldn’t get the time off work to come with you, and you said it was fine, but there’s something in the set of the doctor’s mouth that is making you anxious. 

“Wait here,” he says. You sit, staring down at your phone and praying for a text.

You had sent one before your appointment, a simple ‘wish me luck!’, but there hasn’t been a reply. 

You remember when he used to reply to every text within moments. 

You think he just knows that you know he’s by your side, and that’s enough. It’s as you try to convince yourself of this truth that the doctor re-enters with a nurse, and both of their faces are pinched—

“We need to schedule an x-ray.”

The next few minutes pass in a blur. You go to the front desk, and the receptionist makes calls and helps you schedule the appointment. There’s a consultation tomorrow morning, and then they’ll schedule the x-ray with you.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears the whole time, imagining the sickness spreading inside you, the mysterious illness that could be plaguing your lungs. Is it terminal? How will you tell him about this? How do you tell the love of your life you might be dying—? You don’t. 

You don’t say a word. You go to work and you don’t tell him about the x-ray, about the doctor’s pinched face; you sit beside him on the couch that night watching the evening news with a cup of tea cradled between your hands, and you don’t say a word. 

After all, what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, right?

Cancer. That’s the word on your mind as you trudge through the days. Cancer. 

It’s the only thing it can be, you’re sure, these strange pains in your chest that make you cough up blood. What else could worry the doctor so much? What else could make his face so drawn?

During the x-ray, you close your eyes and imagine your boyfriend’s face, and you feel a little bit better, more at ease. 

That is until they sit you down in a dark room to show you the results, and what you see is a blue-white root system in your left lung. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard of Hanahaki Disease—“

You don’t hear the rest of his words, unable to control the tears spilling down your cheeks. You cry until your face is numb, because Hanahaki means only one thing. 

The doctor sends you home with a thick packet of papers; information about surgery and rehabilitation, the survival rate, painkiller options for the short term. But all you can think of is the reason for the illness, and the fact that it doesn’t make sense. You’ve been in love with the same person for over three years, you’re happy, you’ve been imagining getting married and your life is almost unbelievably good—

But somehow, there’s a flower planted from unrequited love in your chest. 

They say it’s too early to tell what the flower is, making it difficult to gauge what level of pain you will experience. For now, they’ve told you to take over the counter painkillers, and call when it gets worse.

Because it will get worse, they say. 

You drive yourself crazy, that day, calling out of work and going home just to stand under the showerhead with lukewarm water spilling all down your face. It’s possible that you’re crying, but you just can’t tell anymore; you feel numb and alone and confused. Everything is wrong. 

You hide the packet of papers in your sock drawer, and try not to think about it. 

The leaves come out first, spilling into the toilet bowl sometime after midnight.

You’ve just flushed them down when your boyfriend comes to the bathroom. He lingers at the threshold, looking exhausted,

“Are you okay?” You nod,

“Must’ve eaten something that didn’t agree with me.” It’s his turn to nod, and you watch him from where you’re still seated on the bathroom floor. 

Come in, you think. Come sit with me, talk to me, rub my back like you used to—

“I’ll get you some water.”

He doesn’t wait for a response from you, trudging away into the darkness of your shared apartment, and you can feel the need to cry in your temples, the pressure building. You squeeze your eyes shut, and think of nothing but the sound of his footsteps returning. It’s just too painful to bear. 

At first, you can manage your symptoms. You keep a small trash bag beside your desk and cough into cheap tissues. You take that little bag to the company dumpster yourself to avoid anyone seeing it. You try every kind of tea you can think of to soothe the ache and itch in your throat, even asking Jihoon for help because he’s a singer and knows how to care for his throat, because it must be some glitch in the system, some mistake. Your body will realize this is wrong and fight it out. You’ll make it. 

(But even as you tell yourself this, you can feel the way your hands begin to shake as time wears on; see the bags under your eyes resembling bruises, your fingers becoming bonier.)

You’ll make it. 

It’s your birthday, and you’re sitting alone in a dark apartment hours after the sunset, waiting. 

You haven’t heard from your boyfriend in a few hours, when he said he was going out for drinks with a friend (one of your many mutual friends who did wish you a happy birthday). You’re trying not to be sad, trying to be an adult, but he hasn’t forgotten your birthday in years — not since you’ve known him — and it hurts. It hurts, it hurts so bad, and that night you cough up your first full flower. 

You laugh hysterically at it, because, well, isn’t it fitting that it’s the same flower he brought to you on your first date, beautiful and bright yellow. The tears ruin your makeup and you break a wine glass in the kitchen when you trip over the mat near the sink and knock it off the counter. 

It signals the end of your night and your hoping, because the answers are all right in front of you:

You have only loved one person all these years. 

You wait up for him, a single, small jonquil in your lap, still wearing your favorite dress with your hair done up but your makeup ruined. There’s no rehearsing it, no way to practice bearing the axe that will end the life you’ve known for these past few years, but you know it has to be done.

He stumbles in at half past one in the morning, a little tipsy and frantic, and your hands feel slightly numb by now, spinning the flower’s stem between your fingers. His footsteps echo even on the carpet as he weaves his way towards you.

“Baby—”

“I know,” you say, and speaking somehow hurts more than coughing up the flower. You don’t dare to look at him just now, because you can already feel a small itch in your chest.

“I’m sorry, baby, I don’t know how I forgot—”

“You don’t love me anymore,” you say, and you’re greeted by a heavy silence that drags a sob up out of your throat, though it sounds frighteningly like a laugh in the emptiness.

“I know. I have Hanahaki. I know.”

He notices the flower on your lap for the first time, and he falls to his knees in front of you, but still doesn’t say a word. In the past, he would not have hesitated to reach for your hands, to offer some warmth and reassurance — but in the time that’s passed you’ve realized that he no longer touches you as freely, and that the coldness you’ve felt seeping into you wasn’t from the changing seasons at all.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and when your eyes meet you feel both worse and better. There’s remorse there in his eyes, a tenderness but no real warmth, and it tells you everything you need to know: that he’s fallen out of love with you, and he regrets it, but that’s the way it is.

“Me, too,” you finally reply, both of your gazes dropping to the flower in your hands. 

He never says ‘Happy Birthday’ — never says anything else, actually, just stands and retreats to the bedroom. You hear him call someone, hear him pack up a bag, and you hear him leave without any hesitation as you sit in the cold silence of an apartment where the now sole inhabitant may as well be dead.

In the morning, you call into work. Everything is just a bit too much right now, and you pull your phone out from under the pillow beside you on the empty side of the bed. 

What now? > < I think we should break up < I’m sorry < I’m going to move in with Mingyu for now Alright > Thanks > Goodbye >

Your heart lurches at the mention of the familiar name; can you still claim those mutual friends as your own? It hurts. Everything hurts. You set your phone face down and trudge out of bed, your eyes puffy and sore, and pull the thick, white packet out of your sock drawer. 

And with that, you collapse onto your knees, the tears rolling freely once more. 

Not even a week later, you’ve had the surgery. Seungcheol comes to visit you in the hospital and you feel nothing, though you think maybe you should be happy that he still considers you a friend even without Josh. You stare blankly at him, and it feels disturbingly as though you don’t know him, despite the fact you’ve been friends for years. He sits on the edge of your bed and holds your hands, but for all the warmth they provide your skin, your chest feels cold and empty. 

The pity in his gaze is a look you’re well accustomed to now, and the smile you fake feels as stiff as your neck had upon waking up from the surgery. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” There’s a pause, and you stare at him as though he’s the blank white hospital wall before you. He can see it, as though there’s a film over your eyes, and his frown deepens. 

“Cheol,” you say, and he nods, squeezing your hands. “Never let me fall in love again.”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen writing #seventeen texts #my writing #joshua scenarios #joshua hong

[fedonciadale]

Tolkien and GRRM - Aragorn and Arwen

The story of Aragorn and Arwen is quickly told, but to explore the possible influence of Tolkien and GRRM on ASOIAF and Jonsa it is well worth a look. As I said in my Beren and Luthien meta, the similarities in the stories do not necessarily point towards a Jonsa endgame, but considering GRRM is influenced by long and hard thoughts on Tolkien it is well worth a look.

I’ll do it like I did with my Beren and Luthien meta (which you find here, here and here). As in the other parts, I’ll bold words and expressions that remind me of things in the show or the books, I’ll italicize my own musings on parallels, and for speculation on possible future arcs, I’ll just strike them.

The most important thing to know is that Aragorn and Arwen are in a way the reiteration of the story of Beren and Luthien, not only because they are a human/elf couple but also because the parallels are not only written into the story, but are mentioned by the author as well. There are of course differences, but no story that repeats itself happens in the exact same way as before.  I suspect that Jon and Sansa will repeat the story of Florian and Jonquil (x).

Since this is very long, I put it under the cut.

Another interesting thing is, that we meet Aragorn in LotR when he and Arwen have already promised each other that they will marry if and when Sauron is defeated. Some of the background story of Aragorn and Arwen is only hinted at in the main book and is only elaborated in the appendices. Although the reader of course realises Aragorn and Arwen love each other in the main tale of LotR some of the deeper purposes are only elaborated in the appendices.

 Aragorn is the only surviving heir of the kings of Arnor, a long line that descends from Valandil, one of the younger sons of Isildur. The line of Isildur can be traced to Silmarien, the daughter of Tar-Elendil, fourth king of Numenor and great-grandson of Elros, the first king of Numenor. The kingdom of Arnor has long been lost and its kings are now rangers of the North, the last remains of the Numenorians in the North. Aragorn is the son of Arathorn and Gilraen. Gilraen’s father did not want her to marry Arathorn at first, because she was still young, but Gilraen’s mother told her daughter, that there might not be much time. And indeed, they were married, Gilraen got pregnant, and when Aragorn was two years old, his father died. Gilraen was allowed to come to Imladris, where Aragorn went by the name “Estel” which means hope, and was raised by Elrond, the Half-Elf. Elrond was the brother of Elros, the first king of Numenor. While Elros had chosen mortality, Elrond had chosen the elves. Thus, Elrond is Aragorn’s uncle, if about 60 generations removed.

So, Aragorn is from the North, he is the only surviving son of a long line of kings. He is a Numenorian, which means that his people came as exiles to Middle-Earth when Numenor was destroyed, after the Numenorians save Isildur and his family fell to the dark. There are actually some weird similarities between Numenorians and Valyrians. The Numenorians were a seafaring nation and while they had been benevolent in their first excursions to Middle Earth, the mightier they became, the darker they also became. It is pretty clear in Tolkien’s work that the Numenorians were very learned and advanced but that they became imperialists as well. By the time they captured Sauron and he finally seduced them to worship Melkor, the dark Valar, it is painfully clear, that they had lost their way. It is only the descendants of Silmarien that managed to reject the darkness. They survived the fall of Numenor because of a premonition of the doom.

I’d say that this prequel to the story of Aragorn has many eery allusions to the Targaryens that started their days as exiles in Middle-Earth and managed to conquer Gondor and Arnor because of their superiority. Elendil the father of Isildur took possession of the land, and I think that Aegon the Conqueror is a somewhat twisted version of Elendil (and of course he is also an allusion to the English king William the Conqueror).

So, the Numenorians have a touch of darkness about them, even if Elendil and his family allied with the elves against Sauron and were good rulers. Even though the Dun-edain were descended from the first human allies of the elves in the first age, they have a history of falling to the dark or of being obsessed with death, or both. I would just remind you that Tolkien wrote the very brief beginning of a sequel to LotR where some Gondorians start to worship some dark lord.

Now, Aragorn has this grand legacy, but there is also the history of the Numenorians who fell to the dark. A lot of Aragorn’s story is about him rejecting the lure to the dark side and to accept death, that has been a danger to the Numenorians in Tolkien’s world.

So, Aragorn is raised in the North, is the heir to a problematic if grand line of kings, he is raised unaware of the real importance of this parentage under a false name, and he is raised by his uncle who educates him to learn the way of the elves and the ‘light side’, that rejects Sauron.

Now Aragorn as Isildur’s heir has also a claim on the Southern kingdom of Gondor. He has a chance to unite the North and the South. This is more clear-cut in Tolkien than in ASOIAF, because in ASOIAF we start with the united seven kingdoms under one king, and only a tradition and a legacy of Northern independence, but Jon like Aragorn has a claim to North and South. Admittedly Jon’s claim to the North is twisted, because after his real parentage becomes known, he comes after Bran, Sansa and Arya, but nevertheless it is only in his person that claims to the Northern and Southern kingdoms are merged.

So, the uncle who raises Aragorn is Ned, the model Jon tries to emulate. And because dark forces are out to chase the last remaining heir of Isildur, Aragorn has to be hidden, just like Jon is hidden.

On his 20th birthday (which is practically teenage for a Numenorian) Elrond tells Aragorn about his real parentage and Aragorn is proud about this and he walks happily through the woods in Imladris thinking about stories of old and singing the song of “Beren and Luthien” to himself. This is when he meets Arwen, Elrond’s daughter. At first he thinks she is some kind of apparition conjured by his singing. He calls out the name Beren called when he met Luthien: ‘Tinuviel’. Arwen thinks this is funny and sweet and tells him that she looks just like Luthien did. And she asks him who he is. He proudly tells her that he is of the line of the kings of Gondor, but when Arwen tells him that she is Elrond’s daughter, Aragorn realises that she is far above him and is humbled. Nevertheless, like with Beren his love is love at first sight. Aragorn stays silent about his love, and only tells his mother about it. His mother is frightened because they are dependent on Elrond’s goodwill. Elrond as well takes note of Aragorn’s feelings. He talks about it with his adoptive son and (quite accurately) tells him that Arwen does not seem to be interested, that Aragorn is too young and that he would only agree to a marriage if Aragorn were king of Gondor and Arnor. Aragorn calmly accepts this and his long wanderings in Middle Earth begin. He is determined to fight against the rising Dark and his sorrow makes him more mature (and probably brooding and attractive…)

I do think that Jon and Sansa are also meant to relive a very important song in the lore of Westeros, just like Aragorn and Arwen relive THE story of the Beleriand. I have already speculated that ‘Florian and Jonquil’ might be the Jonsa song, so to say. As things stand now, we know very little about it, and I suspect we’ll learn way more about it, when Jon and Sansa reunite in TWOW. It is telling that Aragorn falls for the daughter of his adoptive father/uncle who is above him in status. At first Jon is also of lesser status than Sansa the trueborn daughter of Ned and Catelyn and almost a princess.

It is also telling that Aragorn falls for Arwen after his parentage is revealed, and this could be subverted by Jonsa being only possible after the parentage reveal. Aragorn and Arwen are only possible after Aragorn’s ‘parentage reveal’ has come to fruition by him becoming king of Gondor and Arnor, so for them the overall acceptance of Aragorn’s claim to be the heir of Isildur makes their marriage possible. The overall acceptance of the truth of RLJ will enable a Jonsa wedding.

I do think, that it is very important to note that Aragorn’s motivation is his love from early on. Of course, he wants to fight Sauron, but first and foremost he wants to be worthy of Arwen’s love. He doesn’t want to be king, just to be king. He wants to be king, so that he can marry Arwen.

About twenty years later (you know Numenorians live very long), Galadriel elven lady of Lothlorien (and grandmother to Arwen) gives Aragorn leave to enter her realm when he is on one of his journeys. By now, he has become more mature, and Galadriel provided him with fine clothes, and when he steps towards Arwen in the enchanted forest of Lothlorien, it is her time to fall for him. Together they spent some time in the woods of Lothlorien and they make a promise to each other. Together they promise to defy the Dark, that is Sauron, but Aragorn tells Arwen that he cannot escape death and she promises him that Luthien’s fate will be the same as hers. As daughter of Elrond, who is a half-elf, she is allowed to choose a mortal life.

When Elrond hears about the ‘trothplight’, he is sad because he knows what Arwen’s decision means. For Aragorn his oath to fight against Sauron and his acceptance of his fate of mortality are defining moments in his life. He rejects the more obvious lure of the Dark Lord, but he also rejects the Numenorian weakness of being obsessed with death.

It should be noted, that so far, the story of Aragorn and Arwen is not told in the main book of LotR but just in the appendices. Nevertheless, the important meetings with Arwen are alluded to in the books. When the hobbits and Aragorn flee from the Nazgul, Aragorn wants to give some courage to the hobbits and he sings a part of the song of Beren and Luthien, their very first meeting, the song, Aragorn was singing, when he met Arwen for the first time. In the films this is only in the extended edition. Although Arwen’s name is not mentioned, it becomes obvious that the tale of Beren and Luthien has a special meaning to Aragorn.

When the fellowship comes to Lothlorien, Frodo observes that Aragorn speaks with someone who is not there, when he remembers the time he spent with Arwen in Lothlorien. Thus the two defining moments of the relationship of Aragorn and Arwen are picked up in the main tale.

 Now, for the parallels to Jonsa: This is mostly speculation: I think that it will be Jon who falls first, and Sansa only later. Bookwise there might have been something like a pre-canon crush of Jon’s while showwise I would say, that Jon first realises his feelings when they stand on the battlements in season 6 (episode 10). I would say, that Sansa only realises her feelings after she and Jon have been separated. I think, when she stands on the battlements alone in season 7 episode 7, that is the moment, when she knows how she feels.

Like Aragorn and Arwen, Jon and Sansa decide to fight together, not something as grand as the defiance of Sauron but still, they act in concord. I don’t think I need to explain that Jon of course pledges his strength and will to the Night’s watch, an institution that, at least originally, is meant to stand against the real enemies from beyond the wall. Now to Aragorn’s rejection of the dark Numenorian side. Fear of death has turned the Numenorians of old towards a dark path. Fear of death has led to the extinction of the kings of Gondor, so that Gondor is now run by the Steward of Gondor. And Aragorn has to deny this dark tradition of the Numenorians. I do think that it is interesting that we meet two foils for Aragorn in LotR. On the one hand there is Denethor, who wants to kill his son Faramir and himself, giving in to despair, and there is the Dark Numenorian Aragorn and the others meet at the Dark Gate to Mordor. This is “Sauron’s mouth” who is so far gone in his dark service that he has forgotten his name.

Aragorn confronts this Dark Numenorian and I think that it is telling that he does not kill this disgusting excuse of a human in the books. Sauron’s mouth comes to a parlay under the flag of truce and his life is sacrosanct. I will forever be salty, that they had Aragorn behead him in the films…

I think that Jon will have to reject the dark side of the Targaryens. If you compare the Numenorians and the Targaryens it is pretty clear, that the good Numenorians, the Numenorians who adhere to the light, are far better than even the best Targ, but in all honesty the Dark Numenorians and their worship for Sauron, their obsession with death, their imperialism are pretty scary. It reminds me a bit of the Jedi tbh. It makes one wonder why people care about the Numenorians at all, if there is always the danger of them falling to the darkness.

For years, Aragorn helps Gandalf and one of the things he does, is that he searches for Gollum, who provides the crucial last piece of evidence that the ring the hobbit Frodo has, is indeed the One ring.

For Aragorn, of course, the ultimate test for his resolve to fight against Sauron and not to strife for immortality is the ring. Like several others in LotR he passes the test, with ease in the books, a little harder in the films.

Aragorn is the hero who realises from early on that the most important quest is not for him. In a way everything Aragorn does in the War of the Ring is a side quest, because after Frodo and Sam leave the fellowship, the other members of the fellowship must save Gondor and Rohan knowing that all they do might be in vain, if Frodo and Sam fail. And yet these quests are also important, because Frodo and Sam’s success would have been pointless, if Gondor and Rohan had fallen.

It might be that Jon’s role, despite the fact that he is at the centre of the ‘otherworldly’ and magic storyline at the Wall, is not the most important quest either. I guess that Bran and his sojourn with the Three-eyed raven (aka Bloodraven) beyond the wall might be the most crucial quest in the fight against the Others – if it will be a fight. Jon’s task might be to be a distraction, like Aragorn was a distraction for Sauron’s attention.

I do not want to retell everything that Aragorn does in LotR. I would just draw the attention to five important turning points in his arc:

1.      The decision not to follow Frodo and Sam, but instead to try – against all odds – to try to rescue Merry and Pippin. This is the moment Aragorn decides that he might not be the most important person in bringing Sauron down. He decides to save his friends or die in the attempt – and considering they hunt more than hundred orcs death must have seemed more likely. This shows, that Aragorn cares not only for the ‘greater good’, but that this is balanced by care for individual people. This makes him a good ruler. – Jon in the same way, cares for individuals. Sam Tarly and Satin in the books are the most prominent examples. I think that Jon’s care for individual lives will make him reject any human sacrifice for the ‘Greater Good’.

2.      Aragorn decides to go on a seemingly doomed side quest: When the King of Rohan decides to come to the aid of Minas Tirith, Aragorn looks into the Palantir – the far seeing stone – and realises that a fleet of pirates is on its way to Minas Tirith. The only way to get an army is to tread the ‘paths of the dead’. Aragorn decides that he as Isildur’s heir has the right to call the dead to his banners. Despite several warnings – and several dead skeletons on the path – Aragorn enters the secret path. It might have helped that Galadriel’s message via Gandalf actually encouraged him to do so, but still…. I think Aragorn succeeds because he does not try to wake the dead army for fun or for glory (as the other adventurers before him did), but because this for him is a side quest. – I would argue that for Jon the ‘paths of the dead’ is his quest to win Da€nerys and her dragon to the cause against the WW. Da€nerys sees this quest as a the ‘looking for a bride’, and the books have established that Da€nerys is a sought-after bride, the traditional price for a hero in a traditional tale. But Da€nerys’ as centre of ‘looking for a bride’ is not in the same story as Jon. Jon’s intent is on getting the means to defend the WW. The sidequest is the task the hero has to fulfil to get hold of the advantage that gives him the edge in his important quest. The sword that is needed to slay the dragon etc. Jon is not after a bride, he is after dragons, and this might be the reason why he succeeds. Maybe Da€nerys as a bride is set up as a quest only someone can succeed in who doesn’t want the bride. Like when Gunter and Siegfried went on the quest to woo Brunhilde. Gunther wanted her, but Siegfried won her through deceit, using his invisibility hood to let it appear as if Gunther won the contest for the bride. And Siegfried really wanted Krimhild, Gunther’s sister.

3.      Arwen made a banner for Aragorn so that he could stake his claim. In the battle for Minas Tirith Aragorn unfolds the banner, finally coming out in the open as Isildur’s heir. – There is not yet a direct parallel to that, although I would argue that Sansa making a Stark cloak for Jon comes quite close. If Sansa sews her bridal cloak, the Targ banner might be important. I think that they might go for a combination of Jon’s two sigils.

4.      Denethor is the steward of Minas Tirith, a stern ruler in trying times for Gondor. He has been fighting against Mordor and Sauron for very long, and in desperation, he began using the Palantir – another far-seeing stone – and unwittingly was influenced by Sauron. He does not become evil, but the threat to his house in the person of Aragorn and his last son’s Faramir wasting fever makes him lose his mind and give in to madness. He succumbs not to the Dark but to the other Numenorian temptation: Not to accept death as it is: The hobbit Pippin barely manages to prevent Denethor from killing Faramir in an extended suicide. Denethor is jealous of Aragorn’s better claim and the glory of his family is more important to him than the fight against the Dark. He’d rather kill his son than have him subject to the true heir of Gondor. Denethor is in a way a foil for Aragorn, more so than for Gandalf with whom he is directly compared. It is very important that Pippin and Gandalf decide the life of Faramir is worth saving, even if they don’t know if he will not die of his fever eventually. I do think that Da€nerys has characteristics of Denethor. I think Da€nerys going dark will be the treason within the walls of Minas Tirith. When the enemy is already closing in, like the WW will do, the last thing you need is someone selfishly putting their own interest before the common cause. And I suspect this is what Da€nerys will do. Her desire for the Iron Throne and her (perceived) claim as the only and one true Queen of the Seven Kingdoms will set her against Jon in the worst possible moment. Denethor is described as someone who moves pawns on a chessboard in his fight against Sauron even using his own sons in a very cold-hearted way and he accuses Gandalf of doing the same. Da€nerys is always afraid of people using her for her dragons, but she overlooks that she uses people for her own goals, the Dothraki who she sets up on conquering a continent they’re not really interested in, the Unsullied whom she uses for her army (without paying them), Hizdahr for the peace in Mereen. I would argue that Jon and Da€nerys are in some aspects like Aragorn and Denethor, literal foils.

5.      Eowyn: How could I not mention Eowyn and her love for Aragorn? Eowyn is a shield maiden, a fighting woman who falls for Aragorn. In the books it is clearly one-sided, because Aragorn is already betrothed to Arwen, in the films it is a little bit more ambiguous, because Aragorn believes that Arwen has left Middle Earth. Aragorn likes Eowyn, that much is obvious, and the situation has a little bit of a “what-if” situation. You could actually picture them together, even though they are not best matches. Later Eowyn realises, that she didn’t love Aragorn as a person, but rather the aura of a hero, and she comes to her senses and begins to love Faramir (who is the perfect match for her – Faramir and Eowyn are my first OTP ever). I would argue that Eowyn in a way is Ygritte for Jon’s Aragorn, only with a tragic end – as if Eowyn had died in her fight with the Witch King. And Eowyn is Sansa as well. A maid that falls for the ‘future king’ and later realises that she just loved the glory and the name but not the person. I think it is telling, that Aragorn’s preference is for the ‘princess’ and ‘lady’ and not for the shield maiden. I just put in one quote here from the books:

Lucky it might be, and red it certainly was, but Ygritte's hair was such a tangle that Jon was tempted to ask her if she only brushed it at the changing of the seasons (ASOS, Jon II)

This is what we see in the LotR books, there is just one more important point in the appendix. Aragorn’s and Arwen’s last test: His death. When he grows old, he decides not to cling to life, but to accept death, thus rejecting one last time one of the temptations of the Numenorians. Arwen then decides to stick to her choice of mortality. She lives on for several years and finally dies on the Cerin Amroth, the hill in Lothlorien where she and Aragon pledged their love. Thus Arwen did not only taste the sweet, but also the bitter, long years of living alone and only having the memory of the years Aragorn and she had. I sincerely hope, that we will not see a Jonsa marriage only for Jon to die early on and for Sansa to carry on through long decades. I hope they’ll have at least the three score years Aragorn and Arwen had….

So, I would say that there are several striking similarities of Aragorn and Jon and Sansa and Arwen. There is the important theme of death, the rejection of evil and the acceptance of mortal life, the value of individual lifes against the ‘greater good’, the ‘side quest’, the repetition of a famous song, the marriage made possible by the parentage reveal, the education of Aragorn by his uncle, the fact he falls for the daughter of his adoptive dad. I hope my Jonsa fam agrees with me, that this is if not conclusive evidence for Jonsa as endgame at least some very interesting possible similarities, if/when Jonsa becomes endgame.

#Jonsa #Jonsameta #GRRM and Tolkien #Jon and Aragorn #Aragorn and Arwen #Beren and Luthien #Parallels #Does this count as literal trope? #Parallels to Tolkien #ASOIAF

[nose-bandaid]

bloom ✿ pt.6 — anemones

Kino (Hyunggu) x (female) Reader | flower shop AU

february 27 anemones - fading hope, the feeling of being forsaken

introduction | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | epilogue

=====

Hyunggu wasn’t supposed to visit the flower shop that day. He could’ve spent his free time sleeping in, or choreographing some new dance routines. And yet, there he was, standing on the familiar tiles that spanned the floor, surrounded by the colourful flowers he had quickly come to love.

That didn’t stop him from feeling a little grouchy about being there though. After he had brought his honeysuckles home, the rest of his friends just suddenly decided to become flower gurus overnight, and they all demanded for some more to liven up the (very messy) dorms. Which was fine. That was totally fine. He loved stopping by and seeing that bright smile of hers. He loved the way her eyes would twinkle with excitement whenever she talked about the little flowers. He found it adorable, the way she was so attached to them. He wasn’t going to deny the fact that his chest glowed with warmth whenever he spoke to her.

He also wasn’t going to deny the fact that he had her saved on his phone with two little hearts beside her name. Not that he would tell anyone about that.

When he brought the bouquet of lilacs back to the dorm, he thought he’d finally escaped the nagging. Everyone enjoyed the way that it sat on the counter in the kitchen, next to the window that allowed it to soak up all the sunlight it needed. And every once in a while, someone would check in on it to see how the flowers were doing. Jinho kindly took the responsibility of cleaning up after the rogue petals and leaves that would scatter themselves onto the table overtime.

But when some of the flowers began to wilt and reach the end of their days, everyone’s spirits died along with it, and the nagging returned. On any given day, Hyunggu would’ve been perfectly fine with having another excuse to see her again. But it so happened to be the day right after the little ordeal with the rose, and needless to say, he was terrified of seeing her again so soon. Things weren’t supposed to end so awkwardly, he was supposed to be smooth, or at least, cooler than how he was on that day. And he kicked himself for not having the guts to actually ask her out like he was supposed to.

And of course, Hongseok just had to have that conversation with her while he was gone. He knew that it wrong to leave her hanging, but then again, what would he say? 

“Haha yeah so I DID chicken out was supposed to ask you out that day... so how about it, wanna go on a date with me?” Something like that? And maybe she would send a reply back in agreement and all would go well between them and the world would be happy with rainbows everywhere.

Oh how he wished it was that easy.

He was able to postpone the visit for a good week or so—the flowers have yet to fully wilt and they were all busy anyways. However, his blissful ignorance could only last for so long, as his friends began to mention the dead flowers in a knowing manner whenever they passed by them. Eventually, they decided that today was the day to finally go pick up some new ones, and Hyunggu played his last card, saying that he didn’t really have to be the one who went. Anyone could’ve gone, you didn’t have to be a flower master (not that he was one either) to be able to choose a nice looking bouquet. But they insisted anyways.

He’s pretty sure they all just wanted him to make a move. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen today, no matter how much they pestered him about it. He simply wasn’t ready. Missing his prime chance to do it, for some odd reason, killed his spirits, and he wasn’t so excited to see her just yet. Not when his cheeks still burned in embarrassment at the thought of the troublesome situation he had going on.

Shinwon decided to tag along on the adventure, and whether Hyunggu was grateful for that, or annoyed, he wasn’t too sure. So he bit back those thoughts and didn’t comment on it. When they got to the store, he sighed in relief to see that she weren’t working there that day. Instead, there was only one person in the corner, fussing over a bonsai tree, and he quickly recognized him to be the bubbly boy who tried to rope him into promotions the last time he visited.

“Wow, that’s a lot of flowers.” Shinwon noted, eyes wide.

“Yeah, makes the place really nice, doesn’t it?” He felt much more relieved to see that he probably wouldn’t be running into her anytime soon, which was just the way he wanted it to be.

He watched his friend spin around a couple times, trying to take in the scenery, before tugging on his sleeve. “C’mon let’s go get this—Ah!”

Instinctively, he cradled his shoulder upon the soft impact and turned around to see the offender. 

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” A voice apologized.

“No, no, don’t worry about—“ Oh.

Of course, it just had to be her, all dressed in her work uniform. When he locked eyes with her, he felt his blood freeze. The one thing she had to do was literally not show up, and yet there she was.

It must’ve been wrong for him to feel hopeful about today.

“Oh... Hyunggu... Hey.” She gave him a quick smile and Shinwon let out a dramatic gasp.

“You’re the girl right?”

“Excuse me?” 

Hyunggu watched as her eyes trailed down his body, taking in his appearance.

“Y/n, was it? You’re the girl that Hyunggu never stops talk—“ 

Suddenly realizing where he was going with that sentence, Hyunggu rushed to cover his mouth, worry filling his stomach.

“Shinwon if you don’t shut your mouth right now—“ He muttered, and ended his message with a glare to make things clear.

His friend nodded with his eyes, and he hesitantly released his hand from his mouth. They both looked at where she was standing, only to see that she had already disappeared.

“That’s her right?” Shinwon whispered into his ear, finally getting the memo to be subtle a tad too late.

“Yeah.” 

“Hey you were right, she is pretty attractive.”

"Mmm.” He answered halfheartedly, not even caring about his comment. Most of his attention was focused on watching her make her way to her co-worker.

She smiled sweetly at him. “Hey, Boo.”

Hey... Boo?

What was that supposed to mean? Boo? Like a pet name kind of boo? If she were already taken, it didn’t match up with the response she gave him on Valentines Day. But then again... a lot could happen within two weeks, and it’s not like he gave her much attention since the incident.

“Let’s just choose the flowers, I want to go home.” He dragged Shinwon over to where the colourful bouquets where, and gestured for him to choose the one he wanted. 

But the other didn’t really seem to be focusing on the flowers anymore, rather, he was still staring at her and Hyunngu had to snap him out of his thoughts.

“Dude, choose a bouquet already.”

Totally ignoring his request, the tall boy looked at him in the eyes. “You gonna ask her out today?”

“Huh?”

“You gonna. Ask. Her. Out. Today?” He accentuated every word with a pause, and his voice grew louder each time.

Hyunggu glanced over his shoulder and watched her sink into the hug her co- worker gave her. Bringing his eyes back to the flowers, he covered his mouth with his sleeve in an attempt to hide the bitter expression growing on his face.

“I think I might be a little too late on that part.”

“Hey wait, you can’t just lose hope like that, what happened to the brave Hyunggu we all love? You know, like, the smooth boy, the cool boy, Knnovation, uH.” His friend struck a small pose at that.

"Just choose a flower please I want go home.” He whined, and that got him to finally start browsing through the many flowers on display.

“Heheh, anemones. Like the ones in the water?” Shinwon quietly joked to himself as he picked up a vibrant bouquet. “Let’s go with these ones.”

“Okay, cool.” Hyunggu gestured for him to lead the way to the counter, to which he slowly began shuffling over. It was only her working in the front now (as much as he hated it), and they had to wait for a moment before she looked up at them.

“These are jonquils, right?” Shinwon asked, pointing at the yellow flowers next to the register.

She looked at him in awe and Hyunggu silently sulked over how much he missed seeing her cute expressions. “Yes they are! Not many people are able to identify them like that, I’m impressed.” She began making her way over to them and he didn’t miss the reluctance in her steps. It couldn’t have been because of him... could it?

“I was up ‘till 5 am watching youtube videos... and let’s just say you can learn a lot of things within a span of five hours.” Shinwon replied sheepishly

“I see.” 

A thick blanket of awkward silence settled over them and Hyunggu felt a nudge on his side, to which he simply ignored. Though he could feel his friend’s eyes staring down at him knowingly a couple times, he kept his own eyes fixated on the payment. Once it was complete, he promptly turned to leave the store against his will, without a word.

He wanted to say goodbye to her.

He was supposed to at least say goodbye to her.

He was also supposed to apologize about everything, and maybe clear things up so they could be on good terms.

But his body continued on autopilot as he made his way to cross the intersection and he heard Shinwon jogging behind him to catch up.

“Bro what the heck happened back there? You really gonna leave without saying anything to her?”

Hyunggu kept on with his fast pace. “I don’t know. It just didn’t feel right. I didn’t know what to say and to top that off, it looks like she’s already taken.”

“Don’t you think you’re maybe overthinking? I think you should’ve at least said something to her. That was kind of rude of you and she might take it the wrong way.” As he said that, the clouds casted a dark shadow above them, sending a small shiver down his spine.

“She probably already hates me, so she might as well take it the wrong way at this point.” He slowed down to a stop and faced Shinwon with a sigh.

“Look, I’ll visit again sometime soon and talk to her. Just... just give me some time to prepare myself. I wasn’t ready today, but I will be like, next week. Yeah, give me a week and I’ll clear things up with her, I pinky promise.”

He held out his pinky and the other gently laced it with his own.

“I’ll hold you to that, then.”

=====

please look forward to part 7:)

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