#this image sounds like falling sand to me

[rafyki]

Goth! Nico/ Surfer! Percy AU Part 5!

Finally, another chapter!! Back to Percy's POV~ oh I absolutely adore writing him being head over heels for Nico 💕💕

Some more internal panicking, some more flirting, and they're finally getting to know each other~~ 💕

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

You can also read it on AO3!!

~~~~~~

Percy went to the beach two days after ready to bury himself under the sand as soon as he saw Nico, and at the same time ready to show off the best surfing moves he knew. 

I'll look at you surfing and enjoy the ocean from afar, that was what Nico had said. 

Percy had been replaying that moment in his head so many times in the last fifty hours it was now indelibly engraved in his memory. He could picture it perfectly, like it was still right before his eyes - the afternoon light bathing Nico in pretty shadows, that single strand of hair that had escaped his ponytail and was falling on the side of his face, the numerous earrings on his ears shining in the sun, the way he was biting and playing with those on his lips (it must have been an habit of his, and it definitely was an image that had been driving Percy crazy since the first time he had noticed it); Percy had clearly taken him off guard, and his expression had been the prettiest mix of surprise and embarrassment.

Percy had been ready to make up some silly excuse and run away as far as possible to hide his embarrassment and cursing his stupid impulsive mind for even thinking that saying something like let me teach you how to surf to someone he barely even knew was a good idea. 

And yet.

I'll look at you surfing and enjoy the ocean from afar.

He felt like screaming, felt like he could surf all day long even without waves if it meant Nico would look at him.

To be honest, flirting with him hadn’t really been his intention. He just wanted to talk to him, exchange more than those few words of courtesy that were needed to buy something. 

He had not expected it to be this easy.  Somehow, the words had come out easily, and the conversation had felt awkward but nice and natural at the same time - and maybe it was just wishful thinking on his part, but he couldn’t help but think Nico had enjoyed it too.

The smile on his lips had been genuine, the way he had laughed (and oh, wasn’t that the sweetest sound ever? Percy would gladly listen to it forever), talking and asking questions like he hadn’t wanted the conversation to end. 

Somehow flirting had come so natural to Percy as he looked at him - the need of getting to know him, to impress him somehow, to make him smile, to make the moment last as long as possible, all mixing and tangling together; somehow, that had resulted in the filter between his brain and mouth shutting off completely.

It seemed Nico hadn’t minded too much though. Percy’s heart was playing athletics in his chest as he thought about it once again. 

Calm down, he told himself, trying and failing to get a grip on his derailing thoughts. Maybe he just didn’t know what to say and said the first thing he could think of.

Okay, but did he really have to say that? 

He shook his head. No need to think about it, he’d just have to go and face the consequences of his own actions.

Despite all the time spent thinking about it, he wasn’t exactly sure what to expect.

The beach was as hot and nice and crowded as it always was, but Percy couldn’t concentrate on how that usually made him feel, couldn’t ignore his nervousness and the way his insides were tangling and curling together out of anxiety and anticipation.

He didn’t even have Annabeth with him today - he was almost tempted to call her just to scream his struggles to her once again; she was probably tired of listening to him freak out and would tell him to simply go and talk to Nico again. Was she right? Of course she was. Did that make Percy feel any better? Not really, to be honest.

He sighed as he set everything up and got ready. 

Would Nico look at him like he said he would? The simple thought made Percy shake.

He took up his surfing board, heart beating ridiculously faster than it should as he moved closer to the shore. 

And then, right before getting into the water, he turned around. 

Maybe it was a coincidence, maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him, but there he was, the boy of Percy’s dreams, looking back at him. 

They were far enough from each other that Percy couldn’t see Nico’s expression clearly- maybe he had just happened to be looking that way for a moment. Percy almost expected him to simply turn around and look away like nothing had happened.

But then, Nico raised a hand and waved lightly. Percy’s heart did a flip as he waved back, a smile growing on his lips. 

For a handful of seconds, there was no one else on that beach but them.

Then Nico’s attention was called back by a customer, and with one last glance at Percy, he went back to work. Percy stood there, eyes still fixed on him and smile still in place, for a little longer.

Maybe he’ll be really looking at me, after all.

He was definitely ready to show off everything he could do.

~~~

They weren’t friends exactly, probably not even acquaintances. But something had shifted, and Percy could feel it every time he went to the beach - it wasn’t just him, wasn’t just the anticipation he felt or the way he spent most of his time thinking about the next time he would see and get to talk to Nico again; no, it was in the way they waved at each other in greeting when Percy got there (or sometimes when Nico’s shift started later and Percy got on the beach before him), or the way Nico was always the one who took Percy’s order at the kiosk, the way he smiled at Percy like he was happy to see him, the way Percy let himself linger there for as long as he could and Nico would never shy away from small talks.

It was all the little things piling up that made Percy’s heart run around like crazy, and he couldn’t hold back the smile coming up on his lips every time - he just hoped it didn't look as enamored and lovestruck as he felt.

His crush was growing every day, every moment. Percy could feel himself fall harder and harder with every new word exchanged, every new smile and little laugh, every new thing he learned about Nico. He was probably going a little crazy with how much he liked that boy.

He went to the beach as often as he could, even just to get a glimpse of him and for those fast and precious moments they got to share.

Today he hadn’t planned on going, but he had finished earlier at work and his feet had brought him there almost without him realizing. It was later than usual, and he didn’t even have anything with him. Yet there he was, sitting at his usual place at the kiosk, trying his best not to make it obvious that he was looking at Nico, busy with another customer.

“Nico will take your order in a moment”, the other guy, the blond one who also worked there, told him. 

“It’s okay, I can wait”, Percy replied. It took him a moment to realize that it was weird that the guy hadn’t simply taken his order himself. He worked there too, right? And he didn’t look busy, he was just there chatting with an elf-looking Mexican guy. 

Percy didn’t know if he was feeling more grateful or more embarrassed at this - was it really that obvious that he was there for Nico? At the same time though, the fact that apparently it was a thing, that Percy was Nico’s own customer, that the other guy didn’t even question it, like he knew it - well, it was making Percy feel stupidly giggly and hopeful.

“Ehi, hi Percy”, Nico greeted him, and Percy finally got out of his own head, but only to feel himself fall once again as he met Nico’s eyes and pretty smile. “The usual?”

“Hi, Nico”, he said. His throat felt dry, his heart lost a beat or two. “Yeah, thanks”.

Oh he was too pretty. Annabeth and Grover had laughed at him when Percy had spent a whole evening telling them about every little detail of Nico’s features, how he must have been an angel - because there was no way a human being could be that incredibly and otherworldly beautiful, right?

No, you’re just completely gone for that guy, Seaweed brain, Annabeth had said.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen you having this big of a crush, Percy, had been Grover’s contribution.

And they were both absolutely right. Percy really didn’t remember the last time he had been so head over heels for someone, couldn’t even remember the last time he had had a crush at all. But Nico - god, Nico was making him feel everything all at once.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today”, Nico said, and Percy’s brain short-circuited for a moment. So Nico thought about seeing him? Did he look forward to see him just as much as Percy did? 

“The weather isn’t so good and it looks like the waves aren’t big enough to surf”, Nico kept going.

Percy needed a second to find his words, too enraptured by the shy yet curious look in Nico’s eyes. He had such a nice voice, too, Percy loved listening to him talk.

“Uhm, yeah, I actually wasn’t planning on coming today”, he managed to say in the end. “But I finished earlier at work, so I thought I’d pass by and get my favorite drink”.

Nico smiled softly at that, and Percy counted it as a victory.

“You’re literally the only one who orders this”, Nico said.

“So it’s like a special drink just for me?”

Flirting came to him way too easy when he talked to Nico. Maybe it was the need to see the light blush tinting his cheeks. He blushed so easily, and it was always so evident on his pale skin. Percy loved it.

This time too, Nico rolled his eyes at him, but the blush was there. It was starting to become Percy’s new favorite color.

“Where do you work at?”, Nico asked after a moment. Percy didn’t mind too much that he had ignored his previous flirting. It was endearing, really, that Nico was so shy. 

“Oh I teach kids how to swim at the pool near here”.

Somehow, that seemed to hit Nico, because he stopped to look at Percy with such surprise and awe in his eyes that it was Percy’s turn to blush in embarrassment. He was looking at him like Percy had just told him he went around saving the world on a daily basis.

“That’s so…”, Nico started, then stopped, cleared his throat and looked away. “That’s cute. You look like you’d be good with kids”.

“You think so?”, Percy smiled.

He liked sharing things with Nico, liked telling him about himself, cherished it when Nico told him something about himself. 

“Do you like working here?”

“I do, I guess. It’s a good summer job”, Nico said, meeting Percy’s eyes. “And it’s allowing me to meet some interesting people”.

Percy's heart started to beat ridiculously loud in his chest. “Yeah? You don’t look like you like meeting people a lot though”.

That made Nico’s laugh. Percy sort of wanted to drown in the sound.

“I don’t, usually”, Nico said. “But I guess I can make an exception for some people”.

Percy wanted to kiss him so bad. Wanted to take him on a date and make him smile and laugh the whole time, wanted to hold his hand as he told him about himself, wanted to share everything he could with him, wanted to card his fingers through his dark silky hair and pull him closer and closer to him until he could press his lips to his and feel the rings under his teeth.

“Some special people?”

Another laugh, and that beautiful shade of pink on his cheeks. “Yeah, special”.

Oh Percy was so far gone for him.

#percy jackson #nico di angelo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percico #nicercy #pernico #percy x nico #pjo #i had actually written another chapter before this then realize that i needed them to get to know them a little more #before that #so i have the next chap almost completly written already #and the chap after that! i cant wait to write it!!! i have it planned it out already #our disaster boys are getting there #oh but how i love writing them pining for each other #my fics #goth/surfer percico

[quirkle2]

noise

#qkdraws #id in alt #another simple somethin while i wallow in comic-lining misery <- girl who loves lining and is simply procrastinating #shigeo kageyama #mp100 shigeo #mp100 mob #???% #mob psycho 100 #mob psycho #mp100 #this image sounds like falling sand to me #i hope it sounds like falling sand to u too

[lovelettersfromluna]

Hanahaki

summary: Hanahaki Disease (花吐き病 (Japanese); 하나하키병 (Korean); 花吐病 (Chinese)) is a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love.

an: trying something new with this one, I hope you all like it. Love you mwah mwah (thank you to the anon who inspired this!!)

Warnings: MDNI!, 18+, eventual smut in future chapters, ANGST (when I mean angst, I mean angst girl), loser!Ellie if you squint, reader is oblivious, mentions of fictional illness/disease, mentions of alternative love interest, alcohol usage, marijuana usage, mentions of death, mentions of vomiting (it isn’t graphic I promise it’s literally just flowers), let me know if I missed anything!

You can read part 2 here!!

The sound of different voices and loud giggles replaced the music that was once filling up the old jeep with music, the two sounds dominating each other, creating something that could only be recognized as a group of young, dumb people. The car was dark, and Ellie couldn’t really see anything, not when you were settled on her lap, blocking her view from the outside through the car windows.

She wasn’t complaining, of course she wasn’t. Her hands were wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to her, squished between two other people in your friend group in the back of the car. She was drunk, and high, and she could faintly smell the ocean with each passing moment, the sea breeze growing closer and filling up the stuffy car.

The wind filling up the car blew your soft hair into Ellie’s face, giving her a whiff of your floral shampoo. She couldn’t help but lean in, giving your hips a gentle squeeze as she pressed her nose to your neck, relishing in the feeling of your soft skin against her lips.

You were always her favorite feeling.

She couldn’t even feel it entirely, but the car has stopped. The only reason she knew, was because she felt the spaces next to her become vacant, her friends laughing loudly as they tumbled out of the car and booked it for the beach, sand kicking behind them, nearly falling over their own feet.

She felt you shift in her lap, a soft smile on your lips, pretty eyes just as hazy as her own.

“You comin’ El?” You asked softly, your words like honey on your tongue, music to Ellie’s ears.

She was in a trance, not having seen your pretty face since you and your friends had left the party you were at, all of you packing yourselves away in a jeep and heading to the beach. Every time you looked at her, giving her that soft smile, and those kind eyes, it was like it was the first time she was seeing you all over again.

And you never failed to leave her speechless, even on the simplest occasions.

A loud bang on the roof of the car made her jump slightly, earning a giggle from you.

“C’mon love birds! Or else I’ll drag you out myself” Ellie could decipher the voice to be a friend of both you and her who was the one who’d driven you all out to the beach in the first place.

You giggled softly, scooting off her lap, taking her wrist in your hand and tugging her out of the car. Ellie could barely feel her feet carrying her behind you, watching as you dragged her out to the beach.

The moon was so bright, illuminating the white sand, and the dark, calm waters. Ellie remembers hearing the waves crashing against each other, and the sounds of your friends arguing, giggling with each other as they tried setting up a bonfire, which she hoped wouldn’t get you guys in trouble. She remembers the feeling of your soft hands wrapped around her wrist, she image of you in front of her in nothing but a pair of old denim shorts and a faded out band t shirt that was probably hers.

She recalls the way you tugged her away from everyone else, it was always like that. Somehow, no matter the situation or the occasion, you and Ellie ended up strayed away from everyone else. At parties, sleepovers, any general outing, it was you and her, and no one else. It was like everyone simply knew to leave you two, that your disappearance with one another was inevitable. You were the ring leader, always grabbing Ellie and pulling her away from everyone, wanting her all to yourself.

It made Ellie’s heart swell every single time.

Your small hands would interlock with hers, and she’d know that she was done for. She was yours entirely, whether you knew it or not.

The sand was cold beneath Ellie’s body, her hands sinking further into the powdery substance, deep inhales coming in through her nostrils, the spinning she once felt in the world around her slowly stopped. Her eyes were on the ground, and yours were up at the sky as you sat next to her.

“Do you think there’s anyone out there doing the exact same thing as us right now?” You hummed out softly, palms settled behind you on the sand as you stared up at the stars.

Ellie raised her eyebrows at your question, a soft chuckle leaving her as she moved her green eyes up to stare at the stars with you, mimicking your position.

“Probably…none are like us though” she sighed out softly.

She’d never say anything like that sober. You were always the bold one between you and her. Ellie was shy, and quiet and she’d always blush like an idiot whenever you’d say things like that, or compliment her, or when you’d do anything, really. But it was true, no one, no matter how similar their situation was to you and her, would never come close to what you and Ellie had.

What you and Ellie had was special, it was like buried treasure. It was something that was hard to find, and it was a connection like no other that had ever existed, or ever would exist, and you and her both knew that.

You were Ellie’s treasure.

You giggled softly, nodding at her words. “I agree…none like us…” you agree, eyes still trained on the blanket of stars above.

Ellie felt your hands wrap around her arm, and tug her down to lay back on the sand. She didn’t make any attempt to stop you, allowing you to do with her as you pleased.

You were both laid down, staring up at the stars in silence, simply enjoying each others company with one another. There were no thoughts, no worries, no overthinking, it was just you and her.

And Ellie loved that most about being with you.

Ellie could hear your breathing slowly evening out, the sound of sleep overcoming was familiar to her in you. You’d always been the one to fall asleep first, Ellie took note of that very early on in your friendship, remembering the many sleepovers you’d have where you’d fallen asleep in record time, making Ellie envious of you.

A soft, sleepy hum left your lips, and she could feel you scoot closer to her, tucking your body into the side of hers, your hand going down and interlocking your fingers with hers, pressing your cheek against your shoulder before you looked up at her.

Ellie felt like she’d break when you looked up at her, eyes big and glossy, lashes webbed together. You’d always had the pettiest eyes she’d ever seen, making her heart stop every single time you looked up at her.

“El…” you whispered softly, barely loud enough for her to hear.

She swallows thickly, nervous to keep eye contact with you, or to even speak, fearing that her voice should deceive her and crack, letting you know just how much of a hold you had on her.

She took a deep inhale before giving you a nod. “Yeah?” She replied softly, her voice shaky.

You simply gave her a soft smile, one of your hands coming up and gently tracing over her features. You traced over the outline of her lips, her nose, her eyebrows, her freckles. Ellie sighed softly as you did so, eyes fluttering shut as she leaned into your touch.

A moment passed of this, of you gently touching her face, Ellie close to passing out at any moment from the soft, feather-like touches.

“M’gonna marry you someday….know I will…” you hummed out, your voice dripping with that dreamy, sleepy sound that made it clear how far away you were.

Ellie’s eyes opened at this, her breath hitching in her throat at your confession, your promise. She felt her freckled cheeks burn when she looked down at your sleepy face, a lazy smile on your lips as your eyes grew heavier and heavier with each passing moment.

You had a habit of saying anything that had been plaguing your mind whenever you were tired, in between that blissful state of sleep and wake. It got even worse when you were high, Ellie knew that. You’d admitted the most outrageous things when you were like that.

But never anything like this.

She didn’t even have time to respond, because your eyes were already closed, lips parted as soft snores escaped.

She inhaled deeply, turning her head back to stare up at the sky, trying her best to ignore the burning feeling in her stomach, in her chest, in her heart. It was everywhere, eating her up and demanding to be acknowledged.

You, her best friend that she’d been in love with almost her entire life, had promised to marry her someday.

It was something Ellie knew would follow her for the rest of her life, for as long as she lived. She didn’t know whether to hate you for it, or to love you for it.

Ellie had know about her feelings for you for a very long time.

She’d go as far as to say it was something along the lines of love at first sight, but she didn’t want to be dramatic.

It was a classic story of playground love, the two of you meeting at a very young age, practically babies, and becoming inseparable from that point on.

Maybe it was the way you had no problems with tugging on the little girls pigtail that kept bullying her. Looking back at it, the kid probably had a crush on her in all honesty, but you had a zero bullshit tolerance policy, even at the age of six years old.

Or maybe it was the way she didn’t hesitate to punch the kid in the nose that pushed you off the swing during recess. It seemed she too had a zero bullshit tolerance policy.

It was always like that. You protected each other, you from idiot boys that picked on you, and her from dumb little girls who were still navigating their feelings, and in that came the bully’s that they grew to be.

So yeah, you and Ellie were stuck to the hip from the moment she could remember. In all of her earliest memories, you were there, a big smile on your face, always rooting for her.

Ellie was a shy kid. Sure, she had a mouth to tell off an idiot whenever she needed to, but she liked being alone. The only person she really liked spending time with was her dad, and what’s wrong with that? Her dad was fucking cool.

You were the complete opposite. You were bright, and loud and confident. You brought colors to Ellie’s life. You talked, and she listened.

And Ellie didn’t want it any other way.

It was like this all throughout school, and into college. You two followed the same education path of course, refusing to be without one another during the cruelest times of a persons life, the disgusting transfer from the life of a child to the life of an adult.

She figured if she was going to be miserable, she’d be miserable with you by her side.

It was like a dream, having you so often? She has the privilege of keeping you by her side all throughout her childhood, and now she had you by her side through her adulthood.

Ellie wanted you all to to herself. She was selfish, she knew that, but how could she help herself? You’d been hers for so long, there was no chance she’d give you up now.

Ellie recalls a rainy night in her car. It was cold, and it was so miserable out that she had no choice but to wait it out a bit before taking you home.

It was a routine night for you two. She didn’t have class that day, so she’d pick you up from your last one, and you’d sleep over at her apartment for the night since it was the weekend.

She looked over at you, soft hums to the quiet music playing in her car coming from your body, your head resting against the window as you drew little patterns with the condensation that had grown on the window.

“What’s on your mind, babe?” Ellie questioned softly.

You weren’t usually that quiet. You always had so much to tell Ellie when she picked you up, or any case for that matter. You were a little fireball, always beaming with something knew you’d learned that day, the grade you got from your professor, or the latest class gossip that you just had to share with Ellie.

But not that day. You were too quiet, made Ellie feel strange.

You hummed softly in response, turning towards her with raised eyebrows. The hoodie you had on framed your face cutely, a few strands of your hair poking out and laying against it. Your eyeliner had bled out a bit throughout the day, Ellie thought you looked pretty either way, though. Your head was resting against the seat, a soft smile on your face as you shook your head.

“Nothin…I just…” you tried, finding it hard to explain yourself.

You let out a gentle huff before turning your body towards Ellie a bit more. The car was dark, the only thing illuminating your face was the street light in the parking lot that you two were in. She could see that your features were soft, tranquil. You looked so genuinely happy, and that expression alone made Ellie’s heart burst with a warmth that consumed her so much, it was almost too much.

“I’ve met someone, El” you admitted, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth as you bit back and excited smile, eyes twinkling in the dim light of her car, glimmering with a kind of happiness that Ellie had never seen before in you.

She felt her chest heave, pain suddenly blooming throughout her body.

It’s something she’s never felt before. It’s ugly, and nasty, and raw. It feels like when you have a cold, and your lungs are in a constant state of disgust, that gross sore feeling spreading throughout them. She feels exasperated, like you’ve just broken the worst news she could’ve ever received on a rainy Friday night.

You frown softly, a gentle pout on your lips as you reach over, grabbing her arm gently and giving her a shake.

“Ellie? Did you hear what I said?” You ask softly, trying to break your friend away from whatever has a hold on her.

But she’s frozen, and she can feel her eyes burning from a lack of blinking, and from the tears that are prickling at the back of her throat. She could feel the way you grabbed her, shaking her gently, it almost isn’t enough to bring her back from her own personal state of hell that your words have sent her to, a place where you’re gone, taken away by someone else.

Someone that isn’t her.

It does anyways. She blinks her eyes a few times, clearing her throat as her eyes focused on you. She gives you a nod, green eyes big and wide like she’s seen a ghost.

You giggled softly, moving back to rest your head against the seat as you stared at her.

“Been meaning to tell you…she’s…she’s so great, Ellie…she makes me feel…” you let out a dreamy sigh, your eyes drifting down to look at your hand, which is toying with the bracelet around your wrist, a shy smile on your face as you practically beamed down at it.

Ellie’s eyes silently follow, catching eye of the way your sweater pushed up a bit to reveal the little pink rope that’s around your wrist. She’d never seen it, and it’s perched right under the bracelet that Ellie had made you when you two were kids. Hers is blue and purple, and far prettier in her opinion.

Her heart hurts at the sight of someone else’s bracelet on your pretty wrist.

She stared down at it for a while before her eyes drift up to your face. She could see the warmth spread across your face, radiating from your chest, from your fucking soul. It’s like the you’re smiling down at the fucking bracelet is making you so warm, that it’s warming up the car and wafting Ellie in the face.

It’s love. Ellie can see it.

And you deserve it. God, you’ve always fucking deserved it. You deserve a great big house, someone who loves you dearly coming home to you every night, showering you in all of the love and affection that you have ever wanted and needed. You deserve someone who shows you off, someone who’s proud of everything you do, even the small, stupid things that don’t fucking matter. You deserve someone who cherish you every day as if you’re a fucking gem, a one of a kind gem that only appears once every thousand years.

But fuck…Ellie always wished that person would’ve been her.

She knows she can’t dwell on it, because you’re simply doing what any young person looking for love does. You went out and found someone else, you found someone that makes you smile like that, the way you were smiling across from Ellie in her car.

She can’t be selfish, not now.

Ellie inhales deeply before she puts on her best, most believable smile, freckled cheeks rounding out as she gave you a nod.

“She sounds great…you’ve gotta introduce us someday” she sighed out softly, putting on her best cover up to hide the disappointment she felt deep within her soul.

It’s the way your face beamed even further when you looked up at her, eyes twinkling like the brightest star, the most expensive diamond in the fucking world, that makes Ellie weak in the goddam knees. It’s like all you’ve wanted was her approval, like the main thing holding you back from telling her about the lucky girl that has her heart, is fear that she wouldn’t approve of her.

And that look, further cemented Ellie’s decision in swallowing down her stupid feelings, and ignoring the hammering pain in her lungs.

“Yeah…yeah I will” you promised, giving her a nod, that big, beautiful smile still on your lips.

Ellie can barely bring herself to indulge in the pain she feels, because you looked so fucking happy, and that’s all she’d ever wanted, was for you to be fucking happy.

She smiled back at you, giving a nod before she craned her neck down a bit, looking up at the sky and seeing that the rain had gone from a heavy pour, to a subtle drizzle.

Ellie gave soft hum, nodding to herself as she turned the key to her car to turn it on.

“Looks like it’s let up a bit…let’s get you home-“ her words were cut off but a nasty cough ratting through her lungs, worse than any cold or any blunt had every brought to her. She brought her fist up to her lips, covering it up. It brought tears to her eyes, made her cheeks red. You frowned deeply at the sight, bringing your hand up to rub her back gently.

“Shit…you catching a cold, El?” You questioned softly, concern laced in your words.

Ellie cleared her throat, shaking her head as she straightened her back out.

“Nah…all the smoking I’ve done is probably catching up to me” she joked with a soft chuckle before she looked at you, giving you a soft smile.

“Let’s get you home” she hummed out softly before she pulled out of the parking lot and began making her way to your apartment, not hers.

At first, Ellie didn’t really think much of it.

She assumed that she was simply coming down with a cold, or her excuse to you was right. Maybe all the blunts she’d smoked had finally caught up with her. Her father had always told her they would.

She had thought of everything. The flu, pneumonia, bronchitis, everything in the goddamn book, but every time she went to her doctor with the concern of any of them, he simply shrugged, gave her a gentle smile and told her she was as healthy as could be.

But the cough never got better.

It was annoying at first, her throat was scratchy, and most days she’d be able to simply clear her throat to alleviate the discomfort. Cough drops would help, a cup of tea her and there, soothing the ache she felt her and there throughout the day.

But then? Came the flowers.

Ellie almost keeled over and died when one day she was having a particularly violent coughing fit, forcing her to stay in from class. When she looked down into the her tissue and she saw a few pieces of…something? Little pieces of something pink and white, a bit withered. she flinched, throwing the napkin on her coffee table.

At first, it looked like she’d coughed up a peace of her fucking lungs. She wasn’t sure who to call, her dad? 911? Fucking poison control? She wasn’t even sure that it was even possible to cough up an entire piece of her body.

After a few moments, she figured she had to further inspect the foreign objects to figure out just what it was that had exited her body. She reached down with shaky hands, her eyebrows furrowed with concern, picked up the tissue and opened it up.

She squinted her eyes a bit as she looked down at the little things, trying to figure out what the fuck could leave a persons body that looks like it. Her eyes went wide when she touched it, realizing what they were.

Flower petals.

Ellie thought she might’ve been hallucinating at first. Maybe she took an edible and forgot or something, or maybe the cough medicine was making her trip balls, because flower petals? There’s no fucking way, right?

Apparently she was wrong. There was a way, and a quick google search was filled with something that Ellie didn’t want to find.

All she had to do that night, was look up her symptoms, and she was finally faced with why her lingering cough had been so lingering, and what had caused it.

Hanahaki disease.

It was an illness that affected those with a broken heart, those who experienced unrequited love, which resulted in a painful cough that brought up a never ending supply of flower petals. It would explain the constant lingering taste of perfume that Ellie had suddenly found was impossible to get out of her mouth, and it would explain the fact that this so called ‘cold’ of hers that she had wouldn’t go away, and only had a cough with no other symptoms.

It made Ellie realize, that the night that all of this started, was the night that you told her you’d found somebody else, and it suddenly made so much sense.

Ellie was coughing up fucking flowers, because you didn’t love her.

After finding out what it was that she was diagnosed with, the second step was to find a cure, which she found to be much harder than finding the disease itself.

Finding a cure only came with various medical articles of people who had suffered from the same disease that she was suffering from. All people experiencing the same pain and heartache that she’d been carrying for so long.

All of which, had died.

Each and every other person who had this disease, had passed away from the disease, ultimately dying from a lack of love from the person they wanted.

This scared Ellie.

However, recent study had shown a new surgery that was available with those who suffered from the disease. One that would remove the flowers from the lungs and stop the cough entirely.

But it would also remove any and all feelings that the person with the disease had for the person they loved.

So, Ellie had two choices. Either she let the disease linger until she fucking died, or she could get the surgery, live, and never have you in her life again, not like before at least.

She had a big decision to make.

That night, Ellie cried. She curled up in a little ball in her bed, her pillow pressed against her face as she muffled out her noises, and she cried. She was in pain, and she was hurting, and she wanted it all to go away.

She wished you’d love her, she wished you would’ve just noticed how much she wanted you, how she was the right one for you all this time. It made her angry, and confused and annoyed, because what did she do to deserve this? To deserve this godforsaken illness that she had never fucking asked for.

And as she cried, and screamed and groaned out for the pain to go away, she heard her phone go off. She grabbed it, a soft sniffle leaving her nose as her tear filled eyes stared up at the bright screen of her phone.

It was you.

Loser!!! I rlly hope you didn’t forget to come and get me

I’m sleeping over tonight remember???

Come and get me soon hehe :p miss u

And although Ellie was in pain, and her heart was hurting. She’d never, ever say no to you.

She could live with the cough for a little bit longer, as long as it meant she got to be with you.

Ellie was only getting worse.

Months had gone by, and before she knew it, it had almost been a year with this goddamn disease that she had.

Her doctor had put her on some medication, which basically suppressed the cough only slightly. She still experienced handfuls of flower petals hacking up her throat every time she coughed. He urged her to get the surgery, telling her that without it, her condition could become life threatening.

But she couldn’t. She needed more time with you.

That’s the deal she had made with herself. She would get the surgery after she’d had enough time with you, allowing herself to make lasting memories with you when soon, she’d feel nothing for you at all.

But it was never enough time.

She wanted you always. Day, night, morning, evening, whatever the time she wanted you.

And things were fine. She had hoped you didn’t notice her health slowly deteriorating, she’d hoped you didn’t notice the bags under her eyes or the way the color had been sucked from her skin. You never questioned it, so she hoped that was all true.

She ignored the girl you’d met. After that night in her car, you and that girl never separated. You tried telling Ellie about it from time to time, and Ellie had even met her a few times. Her name was Jen, and she was the furthest fucking thing from Ellie, which only further solidified how unrequited her love was.

It hurt, because Jen was great. She was so kind, and beautiful, and she clearly treated you the way Ellie knew you needed to be treated. Ellie wished she could’ve hated her, she wished she was a shit girlfriend so that she could talk you out of being with her.

But she couldn’t, because Jen was perfect for you.

Ellie ignored it all, treating the times that she had with you as if it was only you and her in the world. She always had, but now it was different, now it was pretty crucial that she had these moments with you, even if you didn’t know the half of it.

You never pulled away, or became distant due to the new aspect of your life that was your relationship. You made time for everyone in your family, and you made time for Ellie. It was all too perfect, the way you handled it all. You never abandoned her, or made her feel left out.

Your friendship had never changed with Ellie, it stayed the same throughout everything.

But her condition was getting harder and harder to hide. She had to constantly rush to the bathroom when she felt the burning in her lungs, and the smell of flowers fill her nose and her mouth, muffling her coughs with a towel. She had gone from coughing up a few petals to what could only be described as an entire fucking bouquet.

It was hard, having to hide it from you. She knew that if there was anyone that could help her through this, through one of the hardest and most painful times of her life, it was you. You would’ve been there by her side, staying up every night that she was having coughing fits to help her, nursing her back to health. You always had, whenever she was sick, you were there, playing nurse while Ellie groaned and pouted for you. She became so needy when she was ill.

But she couldn’t, not when you were the one that caused this.

She knew you’d drop everything for her, and abandon everyone else for a lost cause, because no matter how much medicine you gave her, no matter how much you held her in her sleep, the disease that plagued Ellie had no cure that you could bring.

Other than loving her back.

Ellie sighed softly as she walked through the door of her apartment, pushing her headphones off of her head and letting them rest on her neck. The weather was finally warming up, and she could only hope that the warmth would treat her cough a bit kinder than the cold did, which she knew deep down was merely wishful thinking.

She meant to text you that week, having not heard from you in a bit, which was very unlike you.

She bent down, picking up the mail that laid on her entrance way mat, sifting through the bills and various envelopes that had her name on it. She was quick to toss them to the side, perfectly fine with waiting until she had the energy to read them all properly.

But she stopped when she saw a pretty, powder pink envelope with your writing on the front, her name written out so perfectly.

Why the hell were you sending her a letter?

A nasty cough rattled through her chest, and she almost laughed because it had gotten to a point where any mention of, even in the confides of her own mind, brought on a coughing fit these days. Even the sight of your writing made the ugly sound rake through her lungs.

Pathetic.

She sighed softly, moving to her couch and tossing her backpack to the side. She sat down, ring clad fingers turning the envelope around to tear it open.

The paper inside is thick, it feels expensive, like those fancy cards you get for birthdays from old people that don’t know any better but to buy their grandkids the best shit.

It has little embroidery’s on the edges, and it’s lined with the smallest strip of silver. It’s all written in cursive, and her eyes scan over it for a moment, eyebrows furrowed at whatever the fuck it was that you had randomly sent her in the mail.

But her heart is stopping, and her eyes are going wide once they finally focus on the bigger words at the top.

It’s a wedding invitation.

It’s your wedding invitation.

In her hands, Ellie was holding yours and Jen’s wedding invitation.

And she suddenly can’t breathe. There’s a burning in her chest, and she’s faced with the most intense coughing fit she’s experienced in her entire fucking life. It doesn’t stop, and it isn’t even giving her a chance to breath. She can feel her lungs shaking at how violent it is, and she suddenly throws the invitation down and she’s rushing to the bathroom, hunching over the toilet where her coughing turns into vomiting.

Her vision is blurred with tears, but she can make out the image of the familiar petals filling up the bowl, rattling through her body and making it hard to breath. She’s choking, and crying, and heaving, and it’s the worst thing she’s felt in her entire life.

She feels like it won’t end, like she’ll die right then and there, but she doesn’t. It stops, and she’s left sobbing as she falls back, her back hitting the bathroom wall, knees coming up as she holds herself, her sobs and cries bouncing off the bathroom walls, loud enough to surly be heard throughout her entire floor.

It’s that night, the night where she received your wedding invitation, that Ellie scheduled the surgery date, because she can’t do this anymore.

She needs to let you go.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

[wondeurwall]

AUTHOR'S NOTE. based on the poll: nsfw that won by a landslide, as expected AKSNDJSKb!!! i'll post the sfw soon. i'm currently sitting on 9k with this fic & i don't think i'm close to being done yet omg 😵‍💫 not sure how many more previews i'll post of it – i'll play by ear. or, if it's something y'all still would like, then i'll be more than happy to do it, but i think they'll be much shorter going forward!! 💕💕

AND good luck to anyone pulling for zayne's banner & for anyone trying the new oracle of stars event... i want to try pulling for rafayel's, at the very least, since they all look related to the myths 😭 for the lore, I'LL BE BROKE!!!

TAGS/WARNINGS: 🔞 mdni, fem!reader, porn with plot because i said so, cunnilingus

He drops to his knees, keeps his arms slung over your legs, trapping you at the edge of the bed. His face is in front of your pussy, the heat of his breath makes you quiver.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl,” he says.

And, you do exactly that. Rafayel’s gaze has the full moon in there, the light unblinking and brilliant, like a parallel of the sun during the day. It dares you to flinch the longer you look. But, you keep staring, find that it doesn’t hurt and, instead, the light feels familiar. 

You hear the waves, tides along the shore and grains of sand being pulled into the water. It happens briefly. Holding your breath, the salt of the sea comes to you like it does in your dreams, a little more vivid each time you fall asleep. 

The same images of him fill your vision. Why?

You release the breath, then blink, feeling the heaviness in your chest and the lump in your throat again. It’s a back-and-forth reel of him and Rafayel, different realities converging to a single point in time – and, your lips are trembling. With the heat of Rafayel’s body seeping into you and the recollection of the sea, the moment tastes and sounds like a memory.

No. It’s more than that. 

You look at Rafayel, and everything feels less like a dream and more like a memory.

You’re about to call his name, but it’s quickly ripped out of your lips in an airy moan. The flat of his tongue glides up your slit once. Then, he’s doing it again, dipping the tip into your hole and curling between your folds as he moves up to gather your cum. Taking as much as he can, he swallows the taste of you, eyes fluttering closed as he savors it. 

It’s the way he does that – makes you believe this isn’t the first time, like he isn’t a stranger to this side of you. So, you’re drifting back into your head (only barely now, because the pleasure is intense, hot and needy) and it’s as if pieces of a puzzle come together in the span of a millisecond and you’re lucid enough to arrive to what seems like an impossible reason: it’s not the first. 

You can’t shake off this feeling. 

Your pupils dilate, oxygen completely dried from your lungs when you see the pleasure on his face. To you, Rafayel is reliving something he’s missed. Something that’s been denied from him for so, so long and he’s finally grasped onto it, and he looks like he’s found the secret to walking on air. 

The ache in your chest is overwhelmed by the ache in your pussy. You whine, the glow in his eyes too dizzying. It does nothing more than guide you closer to hysteria. Your hips jerk forward, begging.  

Blood rushes through his cock, straining beneath his pants as a deep rumble comes from within his chest. He’s diving back into your cunt for more before you can catch your breath. 

You lie there, unable to close your legs. His arms keep them bent and tucked securely between his biceps and forearms, the strength of him nothing you can even attempt to win against. It comes to you as no surprise – he’s not human after all. Your mouth parts, a light sheen of saliva over your lips. Shallow, quick breaths keep you grounded as you watch through glassy eyes how Rafayel devours your pussy like a starved man. 

He pulls back slightly, staring – he hones in on your little bud. You hold your breath when he presses a kiss to your clit, slow and gentle, before he traps it between his lips and sucks, humming as he does.

“Raf – Rafayel,” you gasp, the vibrations coupled with his sucking makes your thighs vibrate, has you seeing tiny white stars. He sucks your clit harder, and your voice gets caught at the edge of your throat. 

There’s a pause before you’re moaning like a broken record.

You force your hands to mask your face, rallying enough strength to quiet down because you’re falling, losing yourself so fast, and you have no idea how to wrap your head around the pleasure that’s already building back up.

There’s a disapproving click from the man between your legs.

“Stop,” he says, voice deepening to a near growl. It surprises you – this tone, along with that look in his eyes, half-lidded, clouded with desire, like a predator ready to pounce at its prey – and you feel a greater level of ecstasy being injected into you and it knocks against the sensitive, heavy knot in your stomach.

His demand is never quite like this. It feels… good. 

Rafayel loosens the hold on one of your legs to snatch your hands away from your face, “I need to hear you, baby, or I’ll stop.”

Breath bated, you can’t help but stare at him, utterly dazed by the moonlight that hangs over his head just like it does in his eyes. 

Lovestruck. Only a second passes before you realize how far you’ve fallen, how desperate you are to see more of this version because there’s no use in denying that you’re among the reasons – if not the reason – he’ll take charge. It’s a stark contrast to the light-hearted and comical side he usually shows. There’s a certain attractiveness to it, the willingness inside of him to take care of you with this authority. 

He asks, “Won’t you be a good girl and listen to me?”

God, you’re so wet right now.

You forget how to breathe, feeling like you’ve evolved in a bottomless nothing. His grip on your hands is firm, yet not so much that it shackles you. He’s still gentle. Nodding your head is all you can manage. He finds it cute. Rafayel brushes his mouth over your palm and around your hand to the first knuckle. He smiles. 

And, you melt. Of course, you do. Craving to be good for him, to be the good girl like he says you can be – that you are – you clutch onto the bed sheets instead, let your mouth babble this time.

When he’s sure you won’t do it again, he goes back to your clit, giving the attention it deserves as he keeps his eyes on you. He plants a kiss to your throbbing bud again. And again. And then again. It gets stickier there, messy with your cum and arousal and his saliva; stretchy, gooey strings that reconnect his lips to your pussy.

© 2024 wondeurwall ☆ all rights reserved. please don't repost as your own, modify or translate on here or on other platforms. reblogs & likes are appreciated! ♡

#love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace smut #rafayel smut #love and deepspace #rafayel x you #l&ds smut #lads smut #l&ds x reader #lads x reader #love and deepspace x you #WONDEURWALL ೃ⁀➷ WRITINGS #TY TY TY!! #tysm for all the notes on my other previews!! #i really wasn't expecting much #i appreciate it!! MWAH💋💕

[mvybanks]

JJ maybank x reader when she tells him she loves him but he can’t say it back until she gets hurt really bad

the one where jj is scared of love

a/n: hii, hope you like it!

warnings: drowning

my masterlist

“i love you”

probably the three most powerful words you’ve ever said and the ones that bring you immense pain.

it’s been three days since you’ve told jj how you feel about him. you knew that it was a long shot, he’s your best friend and why would he say it back? but what hurt you the most was his answer.

“no, you don’t,” he chuckled humorlessly, “don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

how could he ever think that you don’t love him? your best friend, your person, the one that knows you like no one does. of course you love him. but he doesn’t think the same.

you’re perfect, you’re sweet and kind, you look at him as if he hung up the stars in the sky, why would you ever love him? he’s broken, impulsive, unreliable. that’s what he thinks of him and if you know him like he knows you, then you must acknowledge those things about him too.

therefore, if you didn’t mean those words then what was the point in saying them back, right? it’s painfully obvious to anyone how in love jj is with you. he’d do absolutely anything just for you and he would protect you with his own life if it ever came to it.

that day ended in a fight, one that was inevitable.

“why would i ever say i love you if i didn’t mean it?” your voice slightly raising as you couldn’t believe his words.

“you don’t! and stop saying it!”

“i love you, jj! why would i ever lie about that?” at that point you were already crying, confusion and rejection were written all over your face. he wanted to take you in his arms and apologize so bad, but you deserve better. you deserve someone that can give you everything you want and it’s not him.

it was foolish of him to not think that he is everything you want and need.

“i can’t talk to you right now,” he said, storming off.

and you didn’t. for three days.

today, you decided to clear your head going surfing. maybe the wind mixed with the salty air would help your heartache, or maybe you hope to see your favorite boy on the beach.

well, you were at least right on one thing: he’s here, but he hasn’t seen you yet. you soon realize that not even surfing can cure your aching heart. you surf wave after wave, your mind racing with the images of that night. you try to distract yourself, to focus on the water, the feeling of the wind in your hair, but nothing works. your inattention shows when you suddenly lose your balance, one of the biggest waves you’ve ever seen taking you as you breathe so much water that your vision gets blurry and your lungs give out.

jj was sitting on the sand, looking at the ocean in front of him, when he noticed you. not being able to talk to you in the past couple of days has been rough on him too. he can barely breathe without you and seeing you there in front of him again made his heart skip a beat, that’s how much he’s missed you.

when he saw you falling off your board, he got up so quickly that he almost lost his balance as well, his legs running to you while he called out your name over and over again, but you couldn’t hear him.

now he’s got you in his arms, your body limp against his chest. he gently lays you on the sand and he can’t stop the tears falling from his eyes. his hands fall on your chest, pressing down rhythmically with the sound of his heart, stopping his movements to breathe into your mouth after a couple of beats.

“fuck!” he exclaims when he realizes that you’re still not breathing, “breathe, baby, please!”

he won’t let that fight be the last memory he has of you, there’s absolutely no way he’s going to let you go in front of his eyes. he still hasn’t told you that he’s an idiot and that he loves you, he can’t let you leave him like that.

“wake up! yell at me, tell me you hate me or tell me that you love me again, let me tell you that i love you, please, just wake up!”

he punches your chest this time and your lungs finally start working again as you cough out all the water that was resting in them. you feel a hand on your back, stroking it while you’re bent on your side and trying to take deep breaths.

“that’s it, take it easy,” as much beaten up you are, you could recognize that voice anywhere, “it’s okay, easy.”

you let yourself fall on your back again and look up at the tear-stained face in front of you.

“hey,” your throat is sore and your voice’s hoarse as you speak but you still try to give him a weak smile.

“hey,” he grins down at you, smoothing your hair away from your face, “scared the hell out of me there.”

you close your eyes at his touch, so comforting and gentle you almost cry. then, one second you’re lying on your back, the next you find yourself in your best friend’s arms, hugging you so close to his chest you can hear his thumping heart.

“i’m so sorry,” he sniffles, “i love you, baby. i love you so much, i’m sorry.”

he’s crying again and you have to twist your neck to look up at him, your hand cradling his cheek while his forehead gently touches yours.

“it’s okay. you don’t have to be sorry about anything,” you whisper on his lips and he swears he’s about to faint at the feeling, “will you let me say it?”

he nods, “please.”

“i love you, j,” and his lips don’t waste another second without touching yours.

#jj maybank #obx #outer banks #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank fanfiction

[angel-of-the-moons]

A Benevolent Hand

Khonshu x Fem!Moon Knight!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, Smut, masturbation (Fem), fingering, dirty talking, degradation(?), Khonshu wants to actually fuck you but won't admit it because he's a prideful shithead

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: did I stay up until ten last 4am to spit this shit out? Enjoy whatever horny poetry my sleep deprived brain supplies you. Be free, my horny little doves *yeets y'all into a field*

Also idk why but this gif does things to me

🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑

It was a dull, dead night. There were no evildoers to stop, no killers to send to the sands of the Duat.

Even Badr told you to go home and rest, you deserved it after your diligent work and devotion to your god.

But, of course... "settling in" for the night wasn't something you know how to do anymore.

You've been Moon Knight for so long you weren't even sure what normal people did during quiet nights at home, anymore.

You ate, showered, exercised in the cramped space of your seedy apartment, before sitting on the couch to idly flip through channels, clicking your tongue and reminding yourself to sign up for some streaming services or pirate some stuff at the local library.

You were so bored you settled on an old corny horror film from the 80s, R-Rated and strangely enough, uncensored. But then again, adult channels were still a thing apparently, so you settled in for some cheap blood and guts, stupid busty camp counselors and a masked killer.

But of course, the sex scenes were there, as well. It didn't show anything like porn would, but the actors did a good job of "having" sex beneath the covers, their bodies flushed and sweaty as they went at it like rabbits, panting and saying things to each other in shared breaths.

They were gonna die, that's how these things went. You have sex in a horror movie, you die. The psychos from Scream got that part right about the ole cliché.

But... The way they acted with each other, playing out the part of a couple very much in love and very horny had you... bothered.

You craved that kind of intimacy. Sure, you can go out and find someone to hook up with, have a forgettable one night stand with some idiot at a bar... but it didn't have the physical closeness that was acted out on the cheap flat screen in front of you.

Being a Fist of Khonshu was often lonely life. You couldn't engage in the seeming frivolity of a relationship that was seen every day you walked down the street. No bed warmed by another body, no good morning kisses, no... love?

You shoved those melancholy feelings aside for now, deciding to focus on the throbbing heat blossoming between your legs.

You bit your lip and slid your hand down your front, slipping it beneath the waistband of your pajamas and beneath your underwear, touching the slick wetness that began to coat and soak through the fabric covering you as the movie droned on.

Your fingers slowly started circling your clit as you breathed out a hot puff of air, eyes closing momentarily as you imagined it.

You, with a man who was head over heels with you, tangled up in the sheets.

Sweaty, groping hands pawing at slick skin, tongues dancing as you kissed like you were all the two of you needed to breathe--

Your fingers began to increase their movements, gathering your sweet juices on your fingers to lubricate your clit as you circled with more need.

You dropped your head onto the back of your couch with a pathetic groan, eyes closing as you let the mental image take a better shape, using the sounds from the TV to help mold the scene for you and your faceless, imaginary lover.

You grunted and kicked off your bottoms and underwear, discarding them on the floor as you spread your legs, one foot resting on the cushion to allow better access as your other hand groped at your breast over the fabric of your threadbare tank top.

"Fuck." You cursed aloud to yourself, falling back into your fantasy as your fingers played with your wet, puffed folds.

Your lover would slowly slink down your body, his lips and tongue pressing on your skin until his mouth reached your hip bones.

He would kiss your clit before licking up your slit, his tongue teasing your entrance, tracing it before he wrapped his lips around the bundle of nerves at the top.

You let out a heady moan, your toes curling as you held back the urge to plunge your fingers inside of you; for now settling on focusing your attention on your twitching clit.

You roll your hips in time with your hand, sliding your hand beneath your top to squeeze your breasts and roll your nipple between your fingertips.

Your lover would lick, kiss, nip, and tease you. He would rut his nose against your clit as his tongue--

Your mental fantasy bubble popped when you felt a very large, very warm, and very real hand slide down your torso, leaving a blazing trail beneath your skin in its wake.

"I sometimes forget how often mortals have these urges." The deep, raspy voice that the hand belonged to sighed out, his tone dripping with... disappointment? Boredom?

You snatch your hand away from your core and instinctively try to close your legs, to conceal your shame as the ancient being crowded around you, the dry smell of sand and spices assaulting your nose as his heat threatened to overwhelm you as he leaned over the back of the couch.

"K-Khonshu--!" You sputter, almost gawking as his bare hand slides to replace yours, his large, thick fingers spreading your lips and gathering your wetness on his digits.

"A rather needy thing, aren't you?" His voice murmured, almost a humored huff coming from him as his thumb circled your clit, sending bolts of pleasure jolt up your spine.

You bite your lip to stifle the whimper that wanted to come out; shame blending in an intoxicating cocktail as your very ethereal and otherworldly benefactor began to pick up where you left off.

"You were being so loud a moment ago." He chastised, his fingers moving very quickly over your clit, his mind focused on how the little nub was swollen and twitched beneath his grasp.

"Don't bother concealing it from me, now, you needy little thing. You're like a cat in heat, right now." You could feel his voice rumble through your, your bones trembling and the deep baritone vibrating your clit as your hand gripped weakly at his forearm.

Your stubborn pride told you not to, not to give in, that this was probably one of the most shameful things a god could catch their follower doing, but...

Most gods wouldn't participate, now would they? Surely, they would chastise you, or walk away and leave you alone to tend to yourself.

When you didn't comply, he grunted and pulled his hand away, your dripping cunt lamenting the loss of his warm touch; hips chasing him for more.

The characters in the movie long moved past the intense love-making between the protagonists. One of them screamed as they found the dead body of one of their friends.

"Disobedient little runt. I will not give you what you want so easily, especially not if you defy me."

The threat was cold, and... oh, fuck it.

"I--I'm sorry." You whimpered, your head dropping back once more, this time hitting the stiff bicep of his other arm he used to brace himself on the couch.

"Good girl." He purred, his hand once more resuming his cruel, blissful torture.

You hiccuped and moaned, rolling your hips once more, this time into the touch of another as heat bloomed low in your belly; molten lava creeping through your veins like thick molasses.

Your chest heaved as his other arm curled around you, his hand taking the soft weight of your breast into his palm, kneading the mound of flesh and pulling your nipple in perfect synchronicity with his other.

"Oh, ffuuuh--" You panted, your body caged from behind as the ancient deity whose age was beyond counting helped you rub one out on your dingey, shitty couch in the dead of night.

You felt your womb throb, wanting desperately to have something inside--

"Poor thing." Khonshu tsk'd. "Could you not find someone--something--to satisfy you? Here you are, rutting against my hand like it is all you know how to do. Pathetic."

You moaned louder this time, arching your back at the words he spat at you. You weren't one for this kind of dirty talk... but having it come from him had your head spinning like you had just gotten off of the tilt-a-whirl on Coney Island--but in a sinfully delicious way.

"Perhaps I should have left you alone. You seemed quite consumed by your little fantasy." He mused, his thumb pressing so hard against your clit that it had you seeing stars behind your eyelids.

"What were you imagining, little dove?" He rasped lowly, the dry, smooth side of his beak sweeping against you, feeling almost cool to your blazing cheek as you leaned into it.

"A nobody? Playing house with you? Laying you down in bed and devouring you like a banquet, perhaps?"

Oh, little did he know how close to the truth he actually was.

Or maybe he did know, and was using it to merely drive you over that mind-numbing precipice you wanted so desperately to fling yourself off of?

You could never tell with him, not when he was playing his mind games.

"I... Uh--ah--" You whine.

Khonshu's fingers pull up enough to slap your clit, the sudden feeling making your body jerk against him as the sound of your went cunt was heard even over the volume of your forgotten movie.

"I am reciting rhetoric. I will talk, and you will listen." He growls, his hand sliding down, his palm grinding against your clit as his fingers toy with your fluttering entrance.

Oh, you were so close, so fucking close. If he would just--

"I don't understand how mortals can function when urges like these are so strong." He sighed boredly, as if he wasn't currently fucking you with his hand, teasing your needy hole but not giving what you were truly craving...

"You are destined for more than a pathetic little house with a yard and a garden. You were meant to carry out my will."

That irked you, deep down. Yes, you knew attaining that very thing was highly unlikely for you, but he didn't have to insult you for fantasizing about being normal.

"F-fuck you." You managed to spit out, eyes crossing as they rolled back into your skull, your voice lacking the conviction and venom you wanted it to.

"You seem to be doing just that, my dear." He tipped his head to the side in a jerking motion.

He gave you not a moment to ponder his words as he hooked a thick finger inside of you, curving upwards and pressing hard against that textured spot inside your spongy walls, making you cry out and lift your hips off of the couch

"...In a manner of speaking." He sighed, pumping his finger in and out, paying extra attention to that oh so delicious spot within you, mapping out your very insides with methodical precision, quickly finding the method to get the best reactions out of you as your walls clenched down around him.

"Look at you, so desperate that you are letting me do this to you." Khonshu mocked softly, a chuckle coming from him as his fingers plucked your nipple and his palm ground hard onto your clit.

"Do you like this? Your god giving you such special attention?"

You keened, panting hard as your orgasm began to swell, each pulsing wave battering down the shores of pride and resolve you had struggled to build over the years of serving out the will of this... god.

"Ah... You are close, are you not?" He teased you, "Let's see..."

He managed to slip another finger inside of you, a groan actually rumbling out of him. You never thought you'd heard a sound like that from him.

But then again, you never expected him to finger-fuck you in your own couch before, either.

"You're tight, little bird." He growled, his voice strained as he scissored his fingers in and out of you, shoving you forcefully to the edge of the shores of your oblivion.

"When was the last time you bedded anyone other than your own hand? Months? Years?" He huffed, pumping them in and out of you rapidly, now.

You were so close you could feel the waters of sybaritism that you could taste the very petals of a lotus on the tip of your tongue.

"No wonder you have been so testy as of late."

Almost.

So close.

Just a bit more!

He leaned over, holding you to him almost like a child clutching a beloved toy; only it was far from something so innocent as you ride his hand like your life depended on it.

Your mouth open, your tongue just barely peaking over your bottom lip as you finally dove into the warm waters, silently waiting for the petals of a lotus to fall onto the wet, writhing muscle; drowning in each drop as your orgasm dragged you out to tide, drowning you as your god dabbled with your most intimate parts in such hedonistic fashion.

You were so lost in your post-coital haze that you didn't even register his hand leaving you until his body retracted; leaving you bereft of his warmth.

You turned your head in time, your eyes bleary, blood-shot and faraway as you watched him turn, toying with the sticky wetness coating his skin.

"Don't fall into this trap again, little dove." The god of the moon tells you over his shoulder, before disappearing in a cloud of mist.

But most certainly not before you had taken notice of the prominent bulge beneath his bandages and robes...

#moon knight #khonshu #khonshu x reader #khonshu x you #khonshu moon knight #moon knight khonshu #khonshu smut

[darkened-writer]

imagine| Sapphire Gaze

summary || “You remind me of sapphires.”

request || Could write a fanfic for Aemond where he and his cousin (Daemons daughter) are in love with each other and at the family dinner everybody can sense that they have a special bond, much to Daemons despise. Just some angst and fluff please🫶🏻Btw. I absolutely love your writings. :))

pairing || Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon! Reader

word count || 9,472

warnings || Minor angst, some fluff, Aemond needs a hug.

notes || This took me SO LONGGG, so I hope it was worth it haha. Enjoy!!!

The first time you met him was at your mother’s funeral.

Everyone was amongst themselves, chatting and dwelling on the memory of Laena Velaryon. Your sisters pouting and wallowing in their sadness while sitting upon a bench. Yourself, however, decided it would be better to stick by your father whom was near Viserys Targaryen; looming like a vulture seeking dinner. 

You were always told, “You’re just like your father.” or “I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” All in regards to your attitude and how well you swing your sword. You mirrored Daemon’s skills as if you were his long lost twin, and that worried plenty of people, especially Alicent Hightower.

“I’m old enough to notice your gazes towards Rhaenyra, Father.”

The man let his eyes leave Rhaenyra’s figure and settle on yours, your arms folded under your cloak. It was disappointing body language yet your face was upturned with amusement.

“Old enough? You’re just two years older than your sisters, my oldest.”

“I may be good at fighting, Father. But, I also have brains.”

He chuckles and turns to look at Viserys who was also looking at him.

The winds, however, pulled your gaze to a silver-haired boy looking at you from across the way, in a similar way that Rhaenyra was looking at your father. With admiration, a sense of longing, and yet you only knew the boy's name and nothing more.

Aemond Targaryen.

His eyes were scanning your figure, almost curious of who you are. What your origins were, but your train of thought was immediately interrupted. 

“Your girls are the very image of their mother.” You turn to look at your uncle, the King, “A comfort and an anguish, as I well remember. The gods can be cruel.”

A firm pause, before your father answered, “It seems they’ve been especially cruel to you.”

The King finds the comment humorous, when normally it would be taken as an insult.

“Yes…” The tension was palpable between the two, so you speak.

“It’s wonderful to see you, Uncle.” You bow your head a bit and the man cracks a sincere smile.

“Y/N! My fierce little Niece, It’s great to see you also, even if under such dire circumstances.”

“Agreed, Uncle.” His eyes find Daemon’s again, “You should return with us to King’s Landing. It’s time that you came home.”

“Pentos is my home…and that of my children.”

“Daemon… I know we’ve had our differences, but let them pass with the years. There’s a place for you in my court if that’s something you should need.”

“I need…” His mouth moves to say ‘Rhaenyra’, but he stops himself, “nothing.” The silence hits once again but before Viserys could say anything else, your father walks away quickly.

“Brother…”

You place a comforting hand on your Uncle’s shoulder before walking away also towards the stairs to head toward the beach. The sky was a pleasant shade of gray, mirroring upon the shiny sea water that called to your very soul. The Velaryon blood coursed through your veins, drawing you towards the sea but the fire was just as mesmerizing. 

The sand finally touched your boots, sounding a gentle crushing noise. The waves waning against the rocks, sea foam catching on the grains of sand. It was all too peaceful for such a saddening day, but somehow you knew that the sea took your mother with open arms to become a part of it once again.

“You remind me of sapphires.”

The voice pulled you from your concentration, eventually connecting a face to the voice. Aemond Targaryen stood with his cloak flowing in the high winds, hair also meticulously moving in tandem. 

“Sapphires? Such flattery should only come between those who know each other deeply.”

“Well, I’d like to get to know you better, cousin.”

You tilt your head, “Ah cousin, should’ve known we were related based on the hair color.” Your hand finds the pin holding your locks upward and slide it out, letting the silver cascade down your shoulders and flow to the side. Aemond’s eyes watched your hair with great interest, rousing a laugh from the bottom of your stomach.

“Are you always this curious and interested in hair?”

He stifles a cough, “Erm– yes?”

“You liar–”

You quickly move past him, gently shoving him with a laugh that sounded like pure heaven to the boy's ears. You seemed to be in a playful mood, so the boy chased after you, laugh intertwining with yours. And what a true joy it was to meet someone in the family that didn’t completely anger you.

-

Hours later, after departing from Aemond, you were safe and warm within the covers of the bed you truly loved. Your sisters were asleep, subtly snoring until they were awoken by a familiar roar. Vhagar, Mother’s dragon who wasn’t supposed to even be flying or out this late at night. It worried the two twins, so they did only what they were taught in an odd situation, they woke their older sister. 

“Y/N…Y/N… Y/N– wake up…!”

Your shoulders were being shook until numbness, but you eventually let your eyes fall open and settled on Baela.

“Mm…? What is it, sister?”

“Someone stole Vhagar.”

That sets the alarm bells in your mind off, “What?!”

Quickly, you put your dress and boots on and settled the dagger your father had made for you under your gown. Telling Baela and Rhaena to wake Jacaerys and Lucerys and meet you where Vhagar was going to land. And eventually, you all met up to investigate what was going on. Though, you held your sisters back behind you so you could go first in case of an attack. The distant crash of Vhagar landing made you jump, but alas you waited to see who was riding the Dragon that was to remain unclaimed.

“Jace, what are we doing?”

Yourself and the group of children all quieted down at the sight of Aemond.

“It’s him.”

“It’s me.”

“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon.”

“Your mother’s dead. And Vhagar has a new rider now.” Venom was seething through his mouth, and you winced at his way with words, harsh and unruly.

“She was mine to claim.”

“Then you should’ve claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.”

Rhaena slipped from behind you in rage, going to grapple and fight Aemond but was quickly thrown to the side and to the ground. Baela couldn’t stand to see her sister hurt, so the girl took her turn, throwing a punch and landing it, but ultimately getting the same force of a punch back, knocking her down. 

“Come at me again and I’ll feed you to my dragon!”

You leapt to check on Rhaena to see if the boy had hurt her, while Jacaerys began to throw punches himself. With a gentle caress, you wiped the blood from your sister’s nose, feeling Jacaerys fall to the ground and the shrill shriek of Lucerys. It was chaos, but in spite of Aemond’s meticulous strength, you helped Rhaena up and she went immediately to beating Aemond up with Baela and Jacaerys. 

Blood was all over the boy’s face, while you took the liberty of staying out of the conflict and helping Lucerys up from the dirty ground. 

It didn’t last though, Jacaerys was kicked aside, the girls thrown, but Lucerys lunged anyways; getting put into a chokehold. Everyone tensed up as Aemond grabbed a stone from the ground and held it up, your heart dropping to your stomach. Was he going to kill your cousin in cold blood?

“You will die screaming in flames just as your father did! Bastards.”

“My father’s still alive.” Lucerys wailed out with a bloodied face and salty tears, “He doesn’t know, does he, Lord Strong?”

Aemond’s tone became condescending, and within that rage, Jacaerys grabbed the dagger that laid upon your thigh while you were ultimately distracted.

“Jace!”

You grabbed your sisters and held them back with eyes of fear, watching as Aemond threw Lucerys to fall to the ground, but Jacaerys caught him and threw him softer to land. The boy swung the dagger you once had, missing and getting struck by the stone Aemond wielded. The dagger landed near Lucerys, who grew strength in the moment he had of being defeated. And as Aemond had his arm held up with the stone, ready to strike Jacaerys down, he looked to you and your sisters; and you shook your head in disbelief. 

What happened to the kind boy you had met on the beach?

Sand and then the slash and scream that accompanied it.

Aemond cried into the sandy, night air, clutching his face in great pain. Blood pooled and spilled from his left eye, slipping through his fingers like wine being poured from a bottle. You felt a twinge of guilt for not breaking up the fight, but you knew you’d done right by keeping close to your sisters. Because they were most important to you, even if the boy who was now seething in pain was kind to you once.

-

“How could you allow such a thing to happen?”

The king was chastising the knight in front of him, and you let your eyes come to Aemond sat upon a chair, having his eye cleaned by a Maester. Alicent Hightower, the queen, sat next to the boy with a vastly worried expression. A mother’s worry for her son, her boy.

“Who had the watch?”

“Young prince was attacked by his own cousins, Your Grace.”

You held your sisters in a huddled hug, their blood coated on your fingers as you had tried to wipe their faces clean. Though, it had just ended with red smudges on their skin and crimson tips for your fingers. 

“You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!”

“I’m very sorry, Your Grace. The Kingsguard has never had to defend princes from princes, Your Grace–”

“That is no answer!”

Alicent’s voice chimed in, “It will heal, will it not, maester?” She sounded desperate.

“The flesh will heal. But the eye is lost, Your Grace.”

Alicent and Viserys seemingly reeled at the news of their son’s eye now being lost, and you felt bile rising in your throat. 

“Where were you?” Alicent began to antagonize her son, “Me?”

The answer wasn’t satisfactory, so the woman slapped him and he quivered in fear at the anger on her face. 

“Ow! What was that for?”

“That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool.” The Hightower woman was seething in anger, a sight that was rare and never welcomed. But before anyone else could possibly speak or do anything, doors opened and Corlys and Rhaenys rushed down the stairs.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Y/N, Baela, Rhaena! What happened? What happened?” The older woman immediately embraced your sisters, pulling you into the hug roughly but with care. Corlys went front and center while Rhaenys was comforting your sisters and rubbing your shoulder in hopes of easing you. The grand doors opened with a creak and Rhaenyra Targaryen came waltzing in with a face stricken with intense, motherly worry, but what was odd was your father was trailing behind her; making eye contact with you before leaning against the doorway to watch the commotion. 

“Jace? Luke!” She rushed to kneel in front of them, trying to assess the damage of Lucerys’s nose. 

“Show me. Show me.” 

His small hand moved from his nose, and a fresh gush of blood fell.

“Who did this?”

“They attacked me!”

“He attacked Baela!”

“He broke Luke’s nose!”

The children continued to shout and make their own arguments and claims of what had happened, “He stole my mother’s dragon!”

“Enough.”

“He was gonna kill Jace! I didn’t do anything!”

“Enough–”

“It should be my son telling the tale!” Alicent now joined the children in their chorus of cries and shouts, until–

“Silence!”

Instantaneous silence at the King’s yell, Jace leaned down to his mother’s ear to whisper something that made her face go pale as she rose. Must’ve been the phrase that started the physical altercation, ‘Bastard’.

“Aemond…” The King made his way down the small bit of stairs ever so slowly, “I will have the truth of what happened. Now.”

“What else is there to hear? Your son has been maimed. Her son is responsible.” Alicent chimed in, “It was a regrettable accident.” Rhaenyra argued.

“Accident? The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush. He meant to kill my son.”

“We had no idea it was your son whom was riding, Vhagar!”

Alicent’s gaze turned to you now, “Past conflicts have arisen between them and yet you had no idea it was Aemond?”

“No– and it was I who brought the blade, for protecting my sisters and cousins in case of danger.”

Alicent’s eyes rolled, “And you claim to be oh so high and mighty now, protecting family–”

“It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves. Vile insults were levied against them.” Rhaenyra interrupted the Queen from continuing.

Viserys’ perked up, “What insults?”

“The legitimacy of my sons’ birth was put loudly to question.”

“What?”

“He called us bastards.”

The room went silent, even a drop of wine could sound across the room.

“My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, Your Grace. This is the highest of treasons. Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders.”

The boy peeked from the rather large chair he was sat upon, looking you directly in the eye as Rhaenyra spoke, sending a chill up your spine at the view of his now lost eye, bloody and bruised.

“Over an insult? My son has lost an eye.” Alicent’s hand roughly gestured to Aemond.

“You tell me, boy. Where did you hear this lie?”

“The insult was training yard bluster.” Alicent interrupted, “The lot of boys. It was nothing.”

“Aemond… I asked you a question.” A pause, before Alicent spoke once again, “Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder? The boys’ father? Perhaps he might have some say in the matter?”

“Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?”

“I do not know, Your Grace. I… could not find sleep. I had gone out to walk.” Your father was glancing at Rhaenyra with eyes you knew well, and your stomach felt like it was weighed down by stones. He was getting involved with his niece, on the day of your mother’s funeral.

“Entertaining his young squires, I would venture.”

No one laughed, not a single breath except for the hateful looks both Rhaenys and Corlys sent Alicent. Viserys was neglectful of the looks and continued his earlier conversation with his injured son.

“Aemond… look at me. Your king demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?”

Pregnant silence, before he spoke, “It was Aegon.”

“Me?” The other boy looked terrified, “And you, boy? Where did you hear such calumnies? Aegon! Tell me the truth of it!”

“We know, Father…” The room suddenly feels hotter, “Everyone knows. Just look at them.”

Most of everyone in the room peers at Rhaenyra and her sons, her hand laid on her youngest head, tears welling up in her beautiful eyes. Alicent visibly looked saddened, but you knew deep down she most likely felt satisfied about his answer, but the complete opposite could be said for Viserys.

“This interminable infighting must cease! All of you! We are family! Now, make your apologises and show good will to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it!”

The obviously sick and decrepit man, our king, began to walk away, his cane clicking against the ground abrupt against the awkward silence. Alicent looked appalled at her husband's words, tears in her eyes mirroring Rhaenyra.

“That is insufficient.” He turns around, “Aemond has been damaged permanently, My King. “Good will” cannot make him whole.”

“I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye.”

“No, because it’s been taken.”

“What would you have me do?”

“There is a debt to be paid. I shall have one of her son’s eyes in return. And if not her son’s, then the one who brought the blade in the first place.”

The room began to murmur, your eyes widening at her proposition. Rhaenys’s grip around you became tighter in her own worry.

“My dear wife…–”

“He is your son, Viserys. Your blood.”

“Do not… allow your temper to guide your judgment.” He shares brief eye contact with your father.

“If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston… bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon or Y/N Velaryon.”

“Mother!” The small boy shouts, and you turn to look at your father who looks more antsy than before, worried.

“Alicent…”

“The one you choose can choose which eye to keep, a privilege neither of them granted my son.”

“You will do no such thing.” Rhaenyra defended, beginning to look just as worried as your father; if not worse. 

“Stay your hand.”

“No, you are sworn to me!” She yells to Ser Criston, “As your protector, My Queen.”

A sense of relief washed over you, Alicent looking more and more disappointed by the second. 

“Alicent, this matter… is finished. Do you understand?” The king and queen share eye contact for a moment, before the king turns to leave the whole situation all together, but he must leave a brief message.

“And let it be known: anyone whose tongue dares to question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons should have it removed.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Rhaenyra leans down to console her sons once again, yourself choosing to kiss the tops of your sisters’ heads, until chaos strikes. Alicent moved steady towards Rhaenyra with the blade Viserys usually carried at his side, looking like a woman on a mission, and various people began to shout which alerted her to the oncoming attack; catching Alicent’s arms in a grapple. Luke screamed in fear and you instantly huddled towards Baela and Rhaena to protect them, not noticing your father trying to get to you but being interrupted by Ser Criston.

“You’ve gone too far.”

“I? What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom , the family, the law. While you flout all to do as you please. Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again.”

“Release the blade, Alicent.” Her father spoke, but she did not listen.

“And now you take my son’s eye, and to even that, you feel entitled.”

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you really are.” And with a push away, the blade penetrates Rhaenyra’s skin, conjuring up blood at her wrist that slips down, down, until the crimson liquid hits the marbled floor. Her face was open in shock at what had just happened, even Alicent looking shell-shocked at what she did. The blade in her hand tumbling down and hitting the floor to mirror the bloodshed. 

But, now Aemond was up from his seat, eyes turning to him instead of the commotion.

“Do not mourn me, Mother.” She looks at him, “It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye… but I gained a dragon. And Y/N was not at fault at all–”

You both look to each other, “She didn’t even try and hurt me, she stayed out of it, so bid her mercy…”

You let the corners of your mouth slide up in a thankful smile, and he only replies with a nod.

“This proceeding is at an end.”

Ser Criston releases your father, and he makes haste in reuniting with you and your siblings and Rhaenyra, looking at Alicent with the same gaze as the rest of your family, stern, dark, and direct.

-

Ten years have passed since that fateful night.

Baela had traveled to Driftmark to be a Ward for Rhaenys and Corlys, Rhaena deciding to stay with you to keep you company against the hoard of boys. Lucerys and Jacerys were handfuls in of themselves, despite their older age. But now you had little Joffrey and his two brothers to mess about and yell into the halls of Dragonstone. 

Your father and Rhaenyra had wed the morning after the night of bloodshed, happy and content within joining their two families, and Rhaenyra was now pregnant with yet another child after two younger boys with Daemon. You’d hope that they would be a girl.

Though, the peacefulness that was your home was breached by a letter sent by Baela, giving information about Corly’s brother challenging Lucerys’s legitimacy to the Driftmark throne. He was going to present it to the king in hopes of staking claim over Luke, which made Rhaenyra instantly angered by the audacity. And, that is when your parents decided that it would be best to travel back to the kingdom to make their own claim against Vaemond.

A ship ride and a carriage ride, and you were now arriving at the castle that held the man that weighed on your thoughts for a decade.

Aemond.

The boy saved you from losing an eye by claiming your innocence.

How would he look after ten years? Handsome? Stubborn like his mother? The question hung in your head until the carriage stopped and Rhaenyra sent you a small smile to tell you it was time to exit.

“All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne and her royal consort, Prince Daemon Targaryen.”

The bells tolled, and the cold air drifted into the now open carriage as Rhaenyra exited promptly and with a regalness that only royalty could muster. Your father exited just after her without a care of how he looked, but you waited and helped Rhaena out of the carriage before letting Jacerys and Lucerys go and then yourself.

Your whole family was adorned in black and red colors, contrasting the green banners that were in the yard you stood in. Rhaena’s rather cold hand grasped yours, and you let your thumb absentmindedly rub against the frozen skin. She felt anxiety, it was only normal considering where you all stood.

Lord Caswell suddenly came from the entry doors with careful consideration, before coming to stand in front of Rhaenyra and bowing his head. His wrinkled hands found her soft ones, eyes speaking with care.

“Welcome back, Princess.”

“Lord Caswell.”

The man kindly escorted you all into the castle, and the decor change seemed to alarm both of your parents. The green, the religious symbols, it was all so daunting for two people who were raised here. Alas, you had to separate from them as they had duties to attend to, so you followed your brothers to the training yard, their black cloaks dragging behind them like crows feathers. 

Two knights were sparring, catching the eyes of the boys, however you were focused on the blades sat against wood planks to be picked up.

They were awfully shiny and caught your eye, the indistinct chatter all around you becoming void.

“See? I told you this would still be here. And you thought you could swing Criston’s morningstar. And you almost took your own head off.”

Lucerys grumbled beside you, looking at the weapons also as Jacerys rustled the boys’ hair, yet he was focused on the various people staring at you three with curious eyes. Jacerys noticed immediately, “What’s your problem?”

You picked up a shiny blade, twirling it in your grasp, “Everyone’s staring at us–”

“Hyah!” Jacerys tried to play, even smiling a bit but it was shut down by Lucerys’s sour attitude. 

“No one would question me being heir to Driftmark… if… if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong–”

You quickly dropped the sword and placed a hand on your brother’s shoulder, gathering his attention, “It doesn’t matter what they think.”

It seemed to ease him, before a crowd had gathered and cheering began, grunts from the middle of the crowd. Jacerys dragged you two immediately to whatever was going on, and the view shocked you.

A white-haired man brandished a shield and sword, moving swiftly towards the Dornish looking knight, taking a hit to his shield and causing the crowd to react with “ooo”’s and “ahh”’s. But the white-haired mystery was smart, he threw the shield to the side and began relentless swipes towards the knight, but he dodged anyways, now revealing the face of the man.

Aemond–

This alarmed Lucerys, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. He moved meticulously, like a spider on a wall, fast and deadly. His moves were awe-inspiring, and every jab of his sword made your heartbeat faster and faster; until the pointy end was at the knight’s neck and the crowd applauded.

“Well done, my Prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.”

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys. Nephews, Niece… have you come to train?”

His one eye was wide and awake, an unnerving chill being sent up your spine just by his glance. But before any of you three could reply, a guard shouted.

“Open the gate!”

There was a large creak before your relative, Vaemond, waltzed through with his battalion, making a huge deal out of his arrival. Until you feel a hand grasp yours and pull you back and away from the crowd. The hand was warm and inviting, callouses from sword handling prominent but the veins in the arms were so very noticeable. 

He was pulling you fast towards the library, not even giving you a second to rest before the library doors shut and his gaze was on you once again. His singular eye wandered your entire figure, starting from your face, down to your neck, your chest, your waist, legs, and then back up. He hummed a content, “hmmm”, before speaking.

“My– how you’ve grown, Niece…”

“Could say the same to you, Aemond.”

He circled you now, like a shark circling blood in the ocean, but your desire was probably ten times that. You missed him even after only knowing each other for a day, and it scared you; how much you wanted to kiss him, bite his neck, or nibble on his ear. The possibility of hearing the low, guttural noises of pleasure from him was surfacing in your mind.

You hoped whatever god or gods there were that he couldn’t read your mind right now.

The eyepatch slung on his head looked to be made of fine leather, of course made by someone of exceptional skill and yet, the man most likely saw himself as a cripple due to the loss of his eye. His hair was long and flowed down his back almost like a ravenous river, uncontrollable and wild. What brought out a slice of curiosity from you though was the blue glimmer from under the eyepatch he adorned, did he really stick a gem into his eye socket?

“You still remind me of sapphires.”

“Such flattery should only come between those who know each other deeply, Aemond–”

He smirks, lips upturning, as if remembering the very same day you both had met and spoke. Of course, it was hard to forget you, and the way you didn’t join your siblings in crippling him. You were merciful to him, yet, you were known to have the same anger and rage boiling in you as your father, Daemon. And after these ten years that had passed, there was never a quiet moment where he wasn’t pondering about you, your whereabouts, or how you might have aged and come into your own body.

And you sure had matured in all the right places.

“What did you hope to achieve by pulling me into the library?”

Were you hoping to get a rise out of him? Because the palpable tension of ten years was straining like a rope at its breaking point. About to snap.

“Privacy, mostly, Niece.”

He stood firmly in front of you, now closer than he previously was but just far enough to where you could feel the lingering touch of his hand. His fingers were long, slender, and strong; built for sword fighting and taking down armies of men. He was stronger than he looked. His hand trailed up your arm, settling just under your ear within the crease, cradling your cheek longingly. His gaze mirrored that of when he first saw you, adoring and curious. How is it that such a violent man could stoop into a passive state around a woman he cares for, admires and cherishes.

“You’ve gone soft, Aemond. Where is that daring sword fighter I just saw outside?”

“Even a man as violent as direwolves would falter under the eyes of the woman he loves.”

“And you love me?”

“Of course, I do… ever since we were kids. Ever since the day I lost my eye. I gained a dragon and a person worth fighting for.”

His thumb stroked the skin of your cheek, “Do you feel the same, Sapphire…?”

Before he could even utter another word, your lips were on his.

-

You didn’t see Aemond the rest of the day after the shared kiss.

He had duties to attend to and Daemon had called upon you for your sword training, which he always let you handle Dark Sister since you would be the one to inherit the blade. A powerful symbol and an even swifter blade then the dagger you’d been carrying since you were a kid.

The same dagger that took out Aemond’s eye.

The guilt of even taking the blade in the first place to the cavern was still apparent in your older age, but even your sisters liked to assure you that it was the right call.

You were their protector. Their older sister and through marital laws, could be the heir to the Iron throne if Rhaenyra deemed it so.

The oldest of all your siblings, you were also the fiercest, yet the most gentle.

‘The Realms Essence’, you’d heard in villages.

‘She embodies love and hate, the wind and the flame.’

Yet, you were always drawn to the sea and the color of sapphire blue.

-

The next day was the day of defending Lucerys’s claim to the throne of Driftmark, his birthright and exactly what Corlys’ would have wanted.

Rhaenyra awoke you in the morning, carrying a red and black dress with a blue dragon sutured up the back. It was the color of your dragon, Bessoarth, The Nocturnal. The glimmering yellow of the eyes of the dragon drew you in as your mother helped you put on the dress, smoothing out any creases and beginning to braid your hair in a Dragon riders’ style.

She had said she used to wear her hair the exact same way when she was younger, and a swell of pride bundled up in your heart.

You missed your true mother, Laena, but the attention and love from Rhaenyra brought new light to your inner child.

Eventually, you and your whole family were gathered in the sacred room that held the Iron Throne. The crowds chattering about whatever came to mind but all was put silent as Otto Hightower began to speak and start the meeting.

“Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters.” He takes a seat on the throne.

“The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.”

Your relative walks up to speak his truth, while you immediately tried to find Aemond’s gaze, once locking, a smile arose on his lips that didn’t go unnoticed by a certain someone. 

“My Queen.  My Lord Hand.”

Alicent looks at Vaemond, “The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother’s seat. I am Lord Corlys’s closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins.”

“As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon–. If you cared so much about your house’s blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition.”

Rhaenyra was right in her correct interruption of Vaemond, yet Alicent Hightower interrupted her immediately.

“You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.”

The tensions between the two formal friends was sharp and unyielding, but to make matters worse, Ser Vaemond came with a rebuttal to Rhaenyra.

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn’t recognize it.” Rhaenyra nods to herself, “This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours.” The man lets his eyes land on Lucerys, which you firmly reply with shoving the boy slightly behind you, looking Vaemond in the eyes with haste. How dare he look at him with such satisfied eyes, who did he think he was? 

“My Queen, My Lord Hand.” He was an ass kisser, that much was obvious. “This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother’s successor… the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.”

“Thank you, Ser Vaemond.”

He sent one last glance at your family before taking his place once again. 

“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon.”

She took firm steps to the front, holding her wrist with a certain amount of anxiety that was only a bit noticeable. But even in her worries, she gave off a sense of knowing it would all be okay somehow. 

“If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly twenty years ago, in this very–”

A noticeable creak sounded throughout the hall, taking everyone's gaze to the grand doors behind. The almost toppled over body of your Uncle came firmly to enter the meeting, a golden mask clad on the right side of his face. His white hair was sparse and thin, just about all of it gone and yet his head still held the crown with delight. His cane clicked on the cobblestone ground, and you couldn’t help but notice the small smile on Rhaenyra’s face.

Her father was here to save the day.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”

The room bowed their heads to the King who would die being known for the kindness of his heart, and the love he held for his family. A truly noble man.

He moved slowly and with a limp, but kept his gaze on his only child, knowing what he had to do, and he would not fail. 

“I will sit the throne today.”

“Your Grace…”

The determination your Uncle exhibited was noteworthy and brought a great comfort to you, knowing the bloodline you stem from ties into a man so oddly heroic, even in his last days.

Through his difficulty to climb up to his lofty seat, the crown on his head fell with a thud which prompted yourself and your father to try and aid him.

Daemon held Viserys and helped him to the throne and you had the honor of placing the crown back onto his head. Even after bickering and arguments, the brothers knew they would always have each other, even if one were to pass. And you gave your Uncle an adoring gaze and a loving smile, before joining your family once again.

“I must… admit… my confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present… who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys’s wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”

“Indeed, Your Grace.”

The whole room peered keenly at the older woman, herself stepping forward with her black grown dragging against the ground behind her.

“It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son… Lucerys Velaryon.” Rhaenyra perked up, “His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys’s granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.”

Baela looked to be smiling a bit, Alicent shaking her head to herself as if in disapproval. 

“Well…” Viserys began, “The matter is settled. Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucery Vvelaryon of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.”

He wheezed after his proclamation, Rhaenys rejoining Baela and Vaemond, staring daggers into Rhaenyra, making a ‘tch’ sound.

“You break law… and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir.” He steps up to speak once again, “Yet you dare tell me… who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it.”

“”Allow it”? Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

The man turns and points at Lucerys, face drawn up in a flame like anger, “That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine.”

You draw Lucerys back behind you, Rhaenyra turning and looking him in the eyes. 

“Go to your chambers. You have said enough.” She looks to Vaemond with pleading eyes, not wanting to argue over something so realistically small. However, Viserys decides to chime in again. 

“Lucerys is my true-born grandson. And you… are no more than the second son of Driftmark.”

“You… may run your house as you see fit… but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides.” His venom laced eyes turned to our family once again, “And gods be damned… I will not see it ended on the account of this–” He pauses.

Daemon seeks the words Vaemond wishes to utter and says, “Say it.”

The whole room seemingly freezes, the air thin, but Vaemond couldn’t restrict his tongue.

“Her children… ARE BASTARDS. And she… is… a whore.”

The crowd stirs with gasps and while Viserys tries to rise, you put a comforting hand on Rhaenyra's shoulder.

“I…” The king pulls his dagger from under his cloak, “will have your tongue for that.”

But before anything could even happen, the sound of a sword being swung erupted and Vaemond Velaryon’s top half of his head fell to the ground, soon following his body. Everyone gasped and Alicent pulled Haelena into a hug, knowing the view troubled her. Rhaenyra was shocked but even you knew your father would not let those words go without punishment. 

“He can keep his tongue.”

“DISARM HIM!”

“No need.” Daemon quickly cleaned his blade with his cloak and sheathed it, Aemond now meeting your wandering eyes with one thing on his mind. 

You certainly inherited your father’s flare.

The King fell back into the throne, Alicent calling for the maesters and Rhaenyra rushing to his side to check on him. The dagger sheathed at your side seemed to burn and itch every second, yet that didn’t even disturb you. Aemond’s almost excited gaze towards Daemon is what truly did you in.

-

With the day just about gone, it was time for dinner.

The whole family, including Alicent’s children, were all to attend. You dreaded the ordeal simply by the fact that you knew trouble would most definitely stir up. It was bound to happen with the tensions rising between Rhaenyra and Alicent, not to mention Aemond’s anger towards Jace and Luke. The only person who seemed to not even care about what was going on was Haelena, as she was sipping her wine and smiling to herself, muttering phrases that made anyone shiver. You felt bad for her.

The doors opened to the dining room and Viserys was carried in, everyone standing in greeting to his royal majesty. He had looked tired, exhausted even, and that saddened your heart. 

The sadness could never really last with Aemond staring into your very soul any chance he could, wearing a lustful smile, mind wandering to where the kiss prior could have led. The feelings stirring in your heart were that of love, the very thing that slays duty. A dangerous thing.

Once Viserys was finally seated, everyone else followed suit. His lowly eye looking around the whole table, taking in the sight of his family together, even if torn all the same.

“How good it is… to see you all tonight… together.”

His adoring gaze landed on Rhaenyra, before Alicent spoke.

“Prayer before we begin?”

“Yes.”

An odd thing that your mother had pointed out to you, was that Alicent was never religious during the time they spent together in their youth. The randomness of the religion she was now devout to had caused her great confusion, though she was not one to deny someone the freedom of worship.

“May the mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest.”

Your father sent a playful gaze at you, which you dismissed with an eye roll towards his attitude. 

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young princes… and their betrothed.”

Aemond’s eye was on you once again at the mention of betrothal, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Hear, hear!”

Everyone raised their glasses, the bitter wine wrapping around your tongue and slid down your throat with an aftertaste that was oddly sweet. The aroma had accents of earthy tones that reminded you of the sea, your home. Aegon’s whispers to Jace were heard but not acknowledged by you as you enjoyed your wine.

“Let us toast as well Prince Lucerys… the future Lord of the Tides.”

“Hear, hear.”

“You’ll be great.”

Aemond’s lingering stare towards Lucerys was dark, one of extreme distaste, which reflected directly how he felt towards Jacerys also. But not you, never you, you were a person with an attitude that mirrored the harsh waves. Yet, you were delicate and sweet like his favorite fruit, the blueberry. 

“You look beautiful, my daughter.”

Daemon laid a hand upon yours that sat on the table, smiling at you proudly.

“Thank you, Father. Rhaenyra has helped me pick the most beautiful of dresses. I owe it to her.”

The lovely couple now peer at each other lovingly before your Uncle rose up to speak, back hunched and breath coming out rugged and wild. Even while his face was covered, it was obvious his health was declining by the second. 

“It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world… yet grown so distant from each other… in the years past.” His hand reaches up, grasping the gold mask and unclasping it, making you tense up immediately from surprise. 

A skull. His skull. 

The right side of his face had sunken in and molded to the bones of his face, the eye gone forever like his son’s. It was a horrible sight, but knowing that the man who had to endure it was your darling uncle made your heart ache.

“My own face… is no longer a handsome one… if indeed it ever was. But tonight… I wish you to see me… as I am. Not just a king… but your father. Your brother. Your husband… and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems… walk for much longer among you.” The mask is dropped to the table with a loud CLUNK, “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown… then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”

Viserys shrinks back into his seat, being helped by Alicent who assists him in wiping his mouth, Rhaenyra now abruptly standing and holding her cup up. Her foot visibly shook from under the table, “I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen.”

The two women looked each other in the eyes, Alicent’s gaze softening a bit at those words before she continued. 

“I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood… more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with… unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude… and my apology.”

She takes a quiet seat, setting her cup down, and Alicent responds.

“Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess. We are both mothers… and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow.” She stands, ringed hand grasping her cup, “I raise my cup to you… and to your house. You will make a fine queen.”

Rhaenyra and Alicent are both smiling to themselves as Alicent finally sits, and oddly enough, Rhaenyra raises her cup once again and looks to you now with a soft gaze, one of a mother.

“I’d also like to announce… Here and now, since Y/N is now my oldest child by law, I want to grant her the title as heir to the Iron Throne after me. A title very deserving of such a smart and beautiful woman, I loved your mother and she’d be very proud of how far you have come.” She raises the cup higher, everyone now doing so except Aegon whom was too busy drowning himself in booze.

“Hear, hear!” 

Daemon clasps a proud hand on your shoulder, but your eyes gravitate to Aemond who tilted his cup to you with a smirk before taking a rather large gulp. A sign of respect perhaps? 

The positive feelings were always to be interrupted, with Aegon now up and refilling his cup of wine. He was whispering to your sister, not loud enough for you to hear until Jace slammed his fists into the table, seat skittering as he rose quite quickly. 

Jace clears his throat, but the tensions didn’t stop rising, Aemond now stood and eyeing up Jacerys, almost mentally telling him to stand down. And instead of attacking Aegon, Jace raised his cup to toast, patting Aegon on the shoulder rather awkwardly.

“To Prince Aegon and… Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles.” He takes a swift swig of his wine and gives Aegon another pat on the shoulder for the second time, making the man audibly groan, “To you as well.”

Aemond slowly shuffled back down into his seat and Helaena muttered a phrase under her breath while messing about with a thing in her clutches, “Beware the beast beneath the boards…”

“Well done, my boy.”

Helaena stands a bit off kilter, raising her wine glass, “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you… except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

A bit of laughter choruses from the two families and the bright girl takes her seat once again, smiling wider than before. She was definitely your favorite between her and Aegon.

“Let us have some music.”

The prospect of hearing gentle tunes eased the anxiety of being sat at the table, and you visibly relaxed, holding the hand that Rhaenyra had held out to you, tightly. Jacerys stood up and excused himself before offering a hand to Helaena to dance, the girl taking his hand with a faint enthusiasm. Aegon, however, looked offended at that fact, yet the two still jumped around merrily with large smiles on their faces, putting a smile on your face also. 

What shocked you was the tap on the shoulder you received, followed by the piercing eye of the man you adored staring down at you.

“Would you care to dance, Princess…?”

You hesitated at first, feeling your father’s eyes barreling into your head, yet your hand found Aemond’s, his fingers gently cusping over yours as he guided you to rise from your seat and stand near your brother and aunt.

One hand stayed clasped in his, the other on his rather broad shoulder as his free hand slid down to greet your waist with a singular touch. He guided the whole waltz, taking the liberty of spinning you and adding flare to the dance, making you giggle and laugh out into the night, all to the displeasure of your father, intensely watching the whole interaction with distaste. Yet, your uncle only watched you two adoringly, seeing himself and Aemma within you and Aemond. A tough man and his adoring wife, a misunderstood boy and the one who understands him the most.

Eventually, the man who held your very heart in his palm guided you back to your seat, kissing your hand ever so kindly before taking his seat, grabbing his chalice to take a hefty gulp of wine. Rhaenyra looked fairly happy, face turned upward and eyes sparkling with child-like wonder that she had lost ages ago. Alicent looked just about the same, smiling at her. It felt… good, and normal, and like home, to be with all the people in your family.

The moment was cut short when Viserys began to groan in pain and Alicent called for the guards to escort him back to his chambers for rest, your father’s face dropping at seeing his brother in pain. Yet, servants came in with various food items as the king was just leaving, a finely cooked pig being set in front of Aemond. 

This aroused a laugh out of Lucerys, who was looking Aemond in the eye while openly laughing, the music coming to a stop once Aemond slammed a fist into the wooden table. His thin and wiry fingers curled atop the wine chalice, raising it up.

“Final tribute.”

Discomfort surfaced over every other emotion you felt, and you pleaded with him through desperate eye contact which seemingly egged him on further. 

“To the health of my nephews: Jace… Luke… and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…”

Alicent almost seems to stiffen, eyeing up her son, while his eyes bounced between his nephews and you. He was going to say it, you knew it, you felt it in your very heart of hearts, so you braced for the outrage.

“Hm… strong.”

“Aemond–”

“Come… let us drain our cups to these three…” Aegon raises his cup, “Strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again–”

“Why?” He gazes at Jace, “‘Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?”

The two boys strided towards each other quickly and Jace quickly swung a punch towards Aemond, striking him in the face. It sounded like Lucerys was also getting in a squabble, but you were only focused on Aemond being okay and Jace being unscathed. 

You quickly rose and went to grab Jace to separate him and Aemond, but Aegon took the moment to let go of Lucerys and throw you into the table with him, causing your sisters to shout loudly and stand up, ready to defend you. 

The guards quickly ended the fighting, but not before Aemond shoved Jace down to the ground with a chuckle. 

Daemon was quick to help you from the table, holding you with loving arms of a father who cared heavily for his first-born daughter and future heir to the throne after Rhaenyra. Your eyes were on Aemond, who seemed satisfied with the petty squabbles, and even though he wasn’t looking at you, he could feel how hurt you were, like it was raining upon him from the very skies. 

“Why would you say such a thing before these people?”

“I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother.” Daemon looks at you with eyes of suspicion due to your lingering stare towards Aemond, “Mm, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.” 

Jace lunges for Aemond, but you step up, “Wait, wait!”

You hold your arms up to keep distance between Aemond and Jace, everyone's face contorting in confusion. Rhaenyra excuses her sons to go to bed and you keep eye contact with Aemond. 

“You went too far–”

“Y/N–”

“You went too far and you know it, Aemond. I thought you… cared for me.. Enough to at least not claim my brothers are bastards.”

His face contorts to one of guilt, looking almost sorry for even causing such trouble. His eyes suddenly look behind you, and you know your father is most likely staring arrows into Aemond. 

“Mm..” You hear Daemon behind you, and Aemond shrugs it off, now walking away with haste. Before you could chase after him, Daemon gently grabs our wrist to hold you in place.

“Daughter, do you hold affections for the boy who just insulted your brothers?”

Rhaenyra stared intensely from beside him.

“If I did… then what? Would you have me exiled like you were? Fulfill what everyone thinks, that I am a mini version of you? I just want everyone to get along for once, but it seems there will always be a strain upon both of our families…” You look at Alicent, whom looks visibly happy that you are finally saying something about how you feel. Something she could never do as a young woman due to the men in her life.

“I will love who I want, and if Aemond is the one I choose… then so be it. Disinherit me from the throne, throw my name from our family books, I could care less.”

Before Daemon could speak, you walked past him, sending Rhaenyra an apologetic look with your hands balled into fists. You had to find Aemond.

-

You would eventually find Aemond within his chambers, clutching his eyepatch in his left hand while staring wearily out of the window to his left. You couldn’t see his lost eye from the angle you were standing at, but you could see his other eye, blue and almost glowing with the light of the night. 

“You defend me against your family, yet when I insult them, you barely bat an eye… why?”

His voice is calm, low and tired. He had a point, why did you defend him? Should you have just sided with Rhaenyra and her blood children?

“Aemond…–”

“The connection we felt as young children was fleeting, yet you didn’t partake in beating me to a pulp. Why?”

You took firm steps to get closer to him, but he kept his head tilted just so you couldn’t see the other side of his face. He looked almost scared to be vulnerable with you. Yet, you brought a hand up to his cheek and slowly turned his head to look fully to you, and you stifle a gasp.

A sapphire glowed faintly in the socket where his eye would have been, the blue striking and beautiful. It held a sapphire glare, one that made your heart skip a beat. 

He was beautiful, even if his mind told him he was imperfect.

“I’m monstrous, aren’t I?”

“Not in the slightest.”

His face softened significantly at your words and his head leaned down to be against yours, cold yet inviting.

“You always reminded me of sapphires, and I wanted to always keep you in my mind’s eye.”

“Such flattery should only come between those who know each other deeply-”

Before you could utter a word more, his lips were on yours. 

The ocean and the flames, The sapphire and the ruby, together at last.

#xreader #fanfiction #house of the dragon #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond

[writingmysanity]

Warmth

Pairing: Sanji x reader

Word count: 1057

TW: drowning (nightmare) hurt/comfort

A/N: this is my first time writing for Sanji, I hope you liked it. it has stuck with me the last few days begging to be written.

Sighing softly, you snuggle deeper into your blankets as thunder roars overhead. It slams around you like the boom of a cannon, shaking the walls of your home. The howl of the wind whistles through the body of the forest around you, whipping the branches roughly enough to earn the distant disapproving whine of the trees. 

Rough skies are not an uncommon thing when your home is surrounded by the open seas, crystal waters bathed in shadow as it sloshes against the white sands. 

The noise hardly is noticed, by you, as the warmth from the fireplace flickers on – eating at the new logs you pressed into its mouth as you settle into bed. The body resting beside you, on the other hand, can't seem to get comfortable. When you both had settled beneath the mountain of blankets, the storm had been little more than a drizzle. The patter of the rain was soothing as his arms rested around you, curling himself around your form happily. Now, he can't help the way his body naturally pulls away, the flickering of images drowning the happiness he had felt not long ago.

Gasping for breath, Sanji groans as he is slammed against the body of the boulder. Allowing the crashing waves to lift him enough to beach himself on its surface, he wretches at the salt pasted thick to his tongue. Blackened clouds flicker above, electricity dancing across the skies as thunder booms around him, seeming to shudder through the air. 

Panting, he pushes himself up, eyes scanning the obsidian waves, eyes wide. 

You had been with him. 

Where are you?

Hoarsely, he calls your name, the sound choked by the burn of salt water in his throat. The wind slaps at his skin, whipping away his calls as he finds himself teetering on the edge of the rock, waves swinging up to obstruct his view. 

Your name is the only word able to leave his lips, but no matter how loud he cries his calls are swallowed by the sea. 

 After what could only be described as an eternity, he can hear you. Your calls echoing over the dance of the waves, your sobs begging him to save you. 

With much effort, he ignores the burn of his limbs, as he pushes himself fully to his feet. Calling out to you again, his eyes remain on the turbulent waters. Instead of his own voice echoing back to him, yours slams back to him, luring him closer to the edge of the boulder. His very own sirens call. It isn't long before he spots your hand, lifted above the waves, reaching for him. 

Without thought, he dives in after you, working against the pull of the tides. 

Just as he reaches you, your hand disappears, dragged fully beneath the surface. No matter how hard he tries to push past the surface to go after you, he finds it impossible. Some barrier continues to force him back above the waves. He thrashes against the water, reaching for you but is forced to watch your wide eyes – glazed, unmoving and solely focused on him – disappear into the shadows of the waters below. 

Lurching straight up, he flails through the layers of blankets, a cry of your name dying on his lips as he searches for you. Eyes wide, he chokes back a sob, quickly covering his mouth to quiet his noises when he finds you curled peacefully on your side. In an attempt to keep from disturbing you, he turns away, elbows resting on his knees as he works to control his breathing. 

In his panic, he doesn't notice the way your hand reaches out for him, or the way your face scrunches when all you find are warmed sheets. Slowly, you pry your eyes open to search for him. 

For a moment, you just watch him, blinking slowly as his shoulders shake. 

It isn't until he hiccups back a sob that you call his name. 

When he doesn't react, you crawl forward, the blankets falling from your shoulders as you draw closer to him. Fighting the shiver that wracks through you when the wind presses through the old windows, you bring yourself to his side. You slowly bring your hand up to touch his arm,  keeping your touch light in an attempt to not startle him. But still he jerks, jumping back away from you. He quickly wipes at his face, trying to hide the evidence of his moment of weakness. 

You watch him, allowing him to pull himself back to the present, back to you. He runs his hands through his hair to hide the way they tremble, taking a deep breath in an attempt to even his breathing as he stares at you. Your eyes fall to his, watching the turbulent waters slosh in them as he tries to find the words to say, to make this go away. When he is only able to breathe your name, the sound shaky and scared, you open your arms for him. 

“What ar-” you cut him off with a sleepy smile, eyes soft with understanding.

“Come. Warmth.” 

You're giving him an out, he realizes. 

You don't move, your arms staying open for him as you watch the various emotions cross his face – fear, confusion and heartache. He hesitates as he moves towards you, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug him back into the bed. Once there, you wiggle both bodies under the covers, his head resting lightly on your chest as his arms wrap around your middle. In silence, you stroke up and down his back, allowing him to listen to the sound of your heart.

You don't ask and you know he won't tell. You don't mention the chill of his tears as they dampen your shirt, you just squeeze him close letting out a sad sigh. 

“You’re safe,” you try. He just shakes his head, arms tightening around you. You can't help the sad smile that tugs at your lips when you lean down to press them to the crown of his head. 

“I am safe,” you state quietly, with more confidence this time. He heaves a shaky sigh, burying his face in your chest, the gentle rhythm of your breath helping soothe him. “Okay?” he nods, his voice thick with emotion. 

“‘Kay.”

Don't really have a tag list for One Piece -- so this is just a no pressure list of wonderful people that have not just encouraged my ideas but let me ramble to them 💜 thank you

@stray-kaz @rainbowpitofdoom @gingernut1314 @sordidmusings

#vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji #one piece sanji #sanji x reader #opla!sanji x reader #opla #opla sanji #one piece netflix #one piece live action #opla x reader

[jaysfavoritee]

ptolemaea | p.sh

pairing. ❥ vampire!park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre. ❥ angst, thriller, psychological

cautions. ❥ death, depictions of blood & gore, profanity

wc. ❥ 2.1k

synopsis. ❥ Park Sunghoon would do anything to protect you, no matter the price.

note! story inspired by Ethel Cain’s Ptolemaea ! thank you for reading, hope you enjoy 🤗

You stood in the room where the deep sunset appears through the singular window. The golden rays hit the quietest corners, providing solace in everything it touches. The sun does not comfort you, though. No. It cannot.

You poor thing.

You blink back the impending sting of hot tears from forming. You wish to not cry. You never cried. You shall not cry now.

“Come in here, I know you're there,” you whisper meekly, letting the vines and thorns planted inside of your throat rattle with each vibration of your vocal box.

No response.

You breathe in. You breathe out. “Sunghoon.”

The doorknob twists and slowly opens. It creaks loudly in this quiet space. Dust accumulating within the ridges and edges of the furniture floats about, the rays of the sun allowing you to see it.

A tall figure is seen, dressed in all black. His turtleneck, black. His slacks, black. His shoes, black. His neatly styled hair, also black.

He's utterly gorgeous. His pale skin complimented the silver necklace that adorned around his neck, the first letter of your name engraved on it.

He towers over you. He is not close yet not far away.

“My sweet angel. Why do you call out to me at this time?” His voice is as smooth as the sand that trickles down the hourglass that sits nicely on the table. You find that voice to be as comforting as the warmth of the sunlight that radiates on your skin. His presence alone causes goosebumps to become visible.

The rays kiss the side of his face, purely unaffecting him. He is perfect.

“You know why. I'd like to see him,” you state calmly, as calm as the waves of the sea that you could see from out the window.

Sunghoon's expression only contorts into confusion.

You blink once. You blink twice. “Jaeyun. You know this. I want to see Jaeyun.”

After a few seconds, the name registers. Sunghoon smiles and shakes his head. This action causes you to furrow your eyebrows. It's your turn to be confused.

“You promised me,” you mutter, letting the words become laced and tangled with offense. Your eyes moisten again with the tears threatening to fall.

“I devoted myself to you. I did that. I wanted you to let me see him again for the last time. That was the only thing I asked of you.”

Sunghoon walks against the old floorboard with hands clutched together behind his back, stopping right in front of you.

“I know. Is this what you want? Tell me.”

You nod. “Please.”

A pout tugs at his lips as he turns his head to look at the closet door behind him. “As you wish, my sweet angel,” he whispers before walking toward the door and opening it.

Out of everything you would expect, this was not one of them. The lifeless body of your dearest friend Jaeyun lies before you. His neck and the half of his face were mutilated with teeth marks. The rotting smell and the sound of flies buzzing around his body present itself.

He was bloody. So bloody. Clothes drenched in the colors brown, black, and dark red. You could see the insides of the flesh that had been played around with, making your body automatically gag.

You begin to blink rapidly. You slap your cheek in hopes for you to realize that you were hallucinating the entire image.

“You are not seeing things, my love. This is real,” Sunghoon tells you softly.

The sunlight that shone inside this room took away the familiar warmth and replaced it with an unrecognizable coldness instead.

Once your heart was able to process what you were seeing, you fell to your knees. The wooden ground poked harshly at the skin, but that pain did not suffice to the pain that spread throughout your entire body and soul like a raging forest fire.

The tears that struggled to escape, at last, released. Your eyes blurred 'til you no longer could make out anything. Everything felt hot and cold at the same time.

The fire deep inside of you climbed its way up your chest, to your throat, and finally, it came out as a blood-curdling scream.

Sunghoon flinched at the sudden change of atmosphere. You screamed as much as your body would allow, and you started to crawl on the floor, not caring to pick up your knees and letting it drag against the wood, causing the skin to peel and blood to trickle. It stings.

Everywhere it stings.

You cry out. Your broken sobs echo in this tiny room. The waves outside become dangerous, as if they could feel the grief that swallows you whole.

You see red. You see white. You see colors swirling in your vision as your heart breaks. You swear you can hear it.

You bring out a shaky hand and you place it on the side of Jaeyun's face that was not tampered with. One eye open, the other gone. Nothing emanates from his pupil. No soul. Nothing to be seen.

The same as looking into Sunghoon's.

Sunghoon lets you cry out for minutes, or hours, he isn't sure. Time does not exist for you right now.

You cough nonstop.

Sunghoon kneels in front of you. He tilts your chin up with his slim fingers. “You poor thing, my sweetest angel. Why must you cry?”

You angrily shove his hand away from you. He tilts his head in confusion, genuine hurt flashes through his eyes.

“You. You.”

Breathe in.

“What have you done?” You whisper hoarsely while glancing down at Jaeyun. “Why?”

“I kept your promise. Didn't I?”

You stand up immediately, though your balance nearly gives out from the wobbliness of your legs. “You didn't keep my promise...”

“But, darling, I have. He's right th-”

“He's dead. Look at him,” you mutter through clenched teeth.

Quietness fills the air once more. Your head begins to throb.

Breathe out.

“You wanted to see him for one last time, my love. Have I been mistaken?” Sunghoon asks, his face etched with worry.

“I wanted him to be...” you say quietly.

Sunghoon stares right at you.

“ALIVE!” You shriek. The glass cups that sit on the shelves rattle. Your throat is on fire.

Sunghoon swallows.

“I wanted him to be alive. You tricked me. You fooled me,” you cry, your shoulders slumping. You back yourself against the wall and slid down from exhaustion.

Sunghoon shakes his head profusely as he makes his way over to you. “No, no, no. My angel, I would never lie to you. I've devoted myself to you,” he says sincerely and looks into your bloodshot eyes.

“..I would do anything for you. I would die for you.”

“You knew damn fucking well what I meant when I said I wanted to see him one last time. I didn't want him to DIE!” You yell the last word at his face, making him flinch.

“My angel, you see, it had to be done. I've already told him your farewells before he took his last breath. I wouldn't say he deserved your kindness, though.” His eyes darken.

You feel like crying again and you shake your head resting on the wall. “What does that even mean, Sunghoon? What have I done to deserve this?”

Sunghoon gently wipes the tears that stained your cheeks. “My love,” he says as he stands up, holding his hand out for you to grab. You hesitantly take it and he helps you stand up, balancing yourself.

He looks down at you with something in his eyes that you cannot figure out, but you chalk it up to be something akin to adoration.

“I have told you this since the beginning,” he starts with a low rumble of his voice. “Once they see me in my full glory, I can never let them see daylight again. That's how it works.”

You bite your lip in an attempt to stop yourself from yelling at him.

“Jaeyun is not the man you think he is, my angel. I wouldn't have done what I did if I didn't think he deserved it.”

You stare into his eyes and for the umpteenth time, you shake your head. “What are you saying?” You ask, voice strained. Hurt. Broken beyond recognition.

Sunghoon holds your hands into his and he glances down at Jaeyun's body. He lets go for a moment before he reaches down to Jaeyun’s side, taking out a tiny journal from his back pocket.

Sunghoon stares at it before handing it to you. In pure confusion and your head still throbbing, you grab the book from him and open it to see Jaeyun's handwriting. All of the pages were filled to the brim.

As you take a closer look at the words, you realize that he was planning something. He was writing down the dates and jotted down a bunch of observations, along with his thoughts.

“Date. 03.25.12 - She tripped over a rock today. She laughed it off, but it was too tempting to pick it up and bash her head in with it.”

“Date. 05.01.14 - Every day the urge keeps getting worse. She disgusts me.”

“Date. 11.22.18 - I've practiced the way I'm going to kill her. I have it all set up.”

You look at the dates and the words in shock, your mouth opening while tears trickle down your face. “He-”

“My dearest. He was planning your murder,” Sunghoon interrupts, his hands finding their way behind his back. He stares at you flipping through the pages.

“No, this isn't right,” you blurt out, your fingertips losing their sense of touch. Everything is going numb.

Sunghoon lets out a long sigh and steps closer to you, embracing your figure and rubbing the small of your back soothingly. “I know. Throughout all those years of pretending, his main goal was to end you.”

You shudder and drop the journal, letting it hit the floor aggressively. You blink away the burning sensation in your eyes as you abruptly shove yourself away from Sunghoon's hold.

“How am I so sure that you were not the one to pull this shit out of your ass? How do I know you didn't do this on purpose?”

Sunghoon kneels down in front of you and places his hands on your waist. He looks up at you with love that you cannot ignore how hard you try.

“Have you ever seen a vampire blush?”

“What? No.”

“There's no blood circulating through my veins,” he continues. “I don't possess the ability to blush. However, my love, you have caused this. You make me alive.”

You sigh and he smiles. “You know what I am. You know my heart does not beat,” he says as he takes one of your hands and puts it right in front of where his heart should be. You feel the sensation of it beating. “This is possible because of the way you make me feel. I love you so tremendously, sweet angel. You are my light and my savior.”

“How do I know if you haven't said the same thing to thousands of women one hundred years ago before me?” Sunghoon can see the doubt written all over your facial features.

In response, he shakes his head. “If that were the case, that would mean I've ended them already. Your blood is the sweetest, and I have been tempted, though I have not acted upon those temptations. I would never lie to you.”

You know that to be true. He's always honest with you.

“I want to protect you the same way that you've given me life. You made me feel things I haven't felt in centuries, my angel. I would do anything you ask of me to. I would never let anyone or anything hurt you under my watch,” he says sternly.

He begins to stand up and he pulls you into another embrace. He protected you from what you didn't know. He saved you from what you couldn't possibly be aware of.

“I love you,” you breathe against the fabric of his turtleneck. “Thank you for protecting me.”

He smiles cheerfully that displays his sharp fangs. “I love you with everything in me. Everything that I do is to protect you, my dearest. Trust me.”

And shall you trust.

He beckons you forward to exit the room, and you wipe away the rest of your tears as he intertwines your fingers with his. Before he leaves, he takes one last look at the journal and Jaeyun's dead body.

The journal that he purely made up. The journal that he manipulated your sweet mind to hallucinate.

Jaeyun was straying too close to what was his.

The devil himself wouldn't let that happen. Not under his watch.

#sunghoon #sunghoon angst #enhypen #enhypen horror #enhypen fanfiction #enha x reader #enhypen vampire au

[neteyamslovrr]

Hey hey, I have a plot in mind that I hope you like!

So imagine Lo'ak being head over heels in love with reader, a metkayina. They both like each other and she actually sees how Lo'ak punches Aonung. He goes on to tease reader like "how the hell could you fall for a freak, how could you wanna mate with demon blood" etc. and reader just looks at her hand, builds a fist and punches Aonung, it shuts him up right away and she's like "I should do that more often" and Loak hears about this and is like "Fuck yeah imma tell her. Imma marry this woman."

Maybe my humor is broken, but i think its funny, simple and effective.

Have a nice day! 💙

Defend Your Love

summary: lo’ak fell in love with you the moment he saw you, as time went past you were there to defend your love for him.

1.4k words!

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

Lo’ak could never forget the first time he saw you. The way you strut over to his begging family. The way your hips swung, your hair blew with the wind as you inspected each of his family members with curious eyes. They were all printed into his mind for eternity.

He’d never forget you, you were now plastered in his mind, an ingrained image of beauty. From the second he saw you, he felt fuzzy, it could’ve been the adrenaline but his mind screamed for you. He felt drawn to you like a magnet is drawn to iron.

“Bro you’re staring.” Neteyam slapped Lo’ak’s head lightly diverting Lo’ak’s attention away from you to hiss at his brother. How could he not stare, you were so beautiful, you were the ocean’s pearl, not even the stars could compare to you.

“Shut up!” Lo’ak pushed his brother embarrassed that he was caught staring.

“At least try and not look that obvious. You may as well be drooling.” Neteyam laughed loudly at himself as Lo’ak grumbled in embarrassment covering his heating up face. “Bro. Bro. Bro.” Neteyam slapped Lo’ak’s arm harshly earning a bitter glare from his younger brother. “Bro she’s coming be cool.”

“What?!” Lo’ak’s eyes widened looking at you approach him and his brother. You were talking to Kiri passionately, your face adorned in a wide smile as you walked closer and closer to him.

“Hey guys.”

“…Hey.” Lo’ak cursed himself. Could he have been any more awkward. Time to bury himself in the sand.

“What have you two been up to?” Neteyam asked trying to disperse the awkward tension radiating off his younger brother.

“Kiri and I were out looking at the coral, I was just showing her around the reef.” Lo’ak paid attention to every single word that came out your mouth, watching the way your lips moved and processed every single sentence that you spoke.

“I’m sure it was pretty.” Lo’ak spoke gazing into your bright eyes. Kiri nodded enthusiastically in response.

“Would you like me to show you around the reef Lo’ak?” His named sounded angelic the way it rolled off your tongue. Lo’ak’s mind froze for a minute, he was enamoured by you and your invite to show him around was something that he didn’t ever think would happen.

Neteyam shoved him lightly, waking him up from his love-stricken daze. “Oh! Uh…yeah.” Neteyam tried to hold in his cackle the way his awkward brother tried to sound cool, it was almost impressive how much he sucked at it. At least you found it cute.

“Come then!” You cheered rushing him to the shore, grabbing a hold of his hand as you dragged him into the cold water. “You can hold your breath more than before, yes?” You asked as the pair of you waded in the water.

Lo’ak was still processing the fact that his hand was in your grip. He nodded earning a soft smile from you, oh you were just so pretty.

You guided him into the water. Making sure he was close behind, you continued to swim so he could see the coral reefs below him.

Looking back you saw him enamoured by the colours and patterns sprawled out across the ocean floor. He swam to go close to the fish watching them swim by as he looked at every piece of floral and fauna his eyes could come across. He was enchanted with the beauty of the sea while you were enchanted with the beauty of him.

His braids floating gracefully in the air, his puffed-out cheeks as he held his breath made you chuckle. His skin glimmering in the water as his golden eyes shun like bright stars in the sky. He was breath-taking to you.

Rising to the tops of the water, Lo’ak gasped for air as you gracefully swam to the top. You did everything so beautifully he thought.

“Wasn’t it pretty?”

“Almost as pretty as you.” That was the moment you fell for Lo’ak Sully, and you were going to keep falling forever if you could.

It had been almost two months since that moment in the reef, and the two of you had only gotten closer. It felt like a dream to Lo’ak, to have this ethereal girl beside him and to call each other their own. It was surreal.

However, not everything was a dream. Not while he still had to deal with Ao’nung pestering his family, disrespecting them constantly.

Though, today fish lips had gone too far. Picking on his older sister, calling her names, making fun of her. He wouldn’t stand for it, he refused.

While he was ready to take any beating for his sister, Neteyam stepped in, diffusing the situation. They didn’t deserve to be let off. Ao’nung deserved a beating, a harsh one at that.

“It’s called a punch bitch!” Three hard swings to the face and all hell broke loose. If he knew you were watching he would’ve tried just a bit harder to not be dragged by the tail, but after all the punches, kicks and drags, he still had to face his father, the worst punishment of all.

Ridiculed and shamed as his head hung low, listening to Neteyam try and take the blame again. This was exhausting. Why should he be shamed for protecting his family, his sister?

“Can I leave now?” Lo’ak grumbled out. Glaringly disappointed eyes darting at him from his father.

“Go apologise. I don’t care how you do it. Make peace.” Pushed out of his marui by his angry father, he dragged his feet across the ground to search for Ao’nung. His face ached, his body adorned in bright red scratches and dark bruises. His body hurt but the conversation he started to hear in the distance hurt more.

There you stood back facing Lo’ak as a bruised Ao’nung stood above you, his gaze was demeaning and cruel as you stared up at the taller man.

“You love that demon? You should be ashamed. You’re a disappointment to our clan. Demon blood runs through his veins. That four fingered freak? How could you fall in love with someone so ugly, so useless? You really want to mate with demon blood? Infect you womb and family with his four fingered freakiness for the rest of your life. It’s disgusting.” Ao’nung spat at you, his words like daggers hitting you in the heart.

“Ao’nung do not talk of Lo’ak like that.”

“Or what? You’re a freak lover.”

The urge consumed your body quickly. Adrenaline rushing through your veins as you balled your fist up tightly. Swinging into Ao’nung’s already bruised cheek, a loud crack ringing through the air as your fist met his face. He stumbled back, holding onto his cheek in disbelief, his eyes wide in shock.

“I get why Lo’ak punched you now.” You pronounced as you shook your small hand, as it ached slightly from the impact.

Lo’ak watched the incident from a close distance. His mouth crawling into a proud smile as you turned around to face him, surprised to see him standing there proudly.

You ran over to Lo’ak, your heart beating fast, eyes blurry as your eyes water with adrenaline. “Lo’ak! I punched Ao’nung!” You whisper shouted running past your boyfriend grabbing his hand to pull him away from the scene of the assault.

“Y/N.”

“Hm?’

“Do you know how hot that was.” Cheeks immediately heating up you pushed him lightly, looking into his amused gaze.

“Stoppp” you whined, your face hot from the sudden compliment.

Lo’ak wrapped his arms around you, feeling your body against him was still surreal, but your soft touches always brought him back to reality. Lo’ak looked down at you, resting a calloused hand on your soft cheek.

“So…is it true?” Your eyebrows furrowed, confused at your boyfriend’s question.

“What’s true?”

“That you’re in love with demon blood?” Lo’ak smiled down at you watching your face go bright. You didn’t think that this was going to be how you said I love you for the first time.

“It is not true.” Lo’ak’s smile faltered for just a second before you continued. “I’m in love with Lo’ak Sully, that’s who.”

“Bro’s making me blush.” You rolled your eyes at him holding him tightly.

He laid a soft kiss onto your forehead, looking straight in your eyes, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I’m in love with you too Y/N.”

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

authors note: FIRST LOAK FIC WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, hope you enjoyed! made ao'nung a dick in this one :)

#lo'ak #loak #lo'ak x reader #loak x reader #loak angst #loak x y/n #loak imagine #lo'ak avatar #lo'ak te suli tsyeyk'itan #loak sully #atwow loak #avatar loak #avatar #avatar the way of water #loak x you #lo'ak x you #lo'ak fic #lo'ak imagine #avatar oneshot #neteyam #ao'nung #aonung

[iceunhie]

starstealer :: even stars can be swept off their feet. xavier is sure he is when he falls for you.

footnotes: small blurb, slight angst and my first standalone l&d fic! xavier experimentation fic because his character intrigues me to no end, lots of star comparisons

the universe contains approximately almost an innumerable number of stars, and out of an infinitely unquantifiable number of them, xavier wonders why you look at him like he's the brightest one.

stars fall, xavier admits, stars can fall, and xavier knows he's falling. (he's fallen.)

he knows it in the way you rest your head on his shoulder while you watch the flimsy dots of lights litter in the cosmos and his heart soars.

he knows it whenever he sees you hurt even for a fraction—how his feelings die and solidify and coalesce only at the thought of you. how fear climbs up his throat and marred memories of failure creep up his skin.

"you're not fine." he persists, handling you as though you were sand slipping through his fingers; jaw tight when he sees blood staining the white of your sleeve. the gash on your shoulder is shallow, though it spanned a quite alarming size. it makes him anxious. bile rises to his throat and he fights to keep his stomach from dropping. you laugh, brushing him off. "you don't need to take care of me, you know. isn't it tedious?" not to me, xavier keeps to himself. not when it's you. instead he says, "no. it's not. just let me help you, okay?" "fine....." you huff, resigned; and you thank him. 'always.'

knows it in how the stretch of two hundred and fourteen springs feels like a nightmare never dreamed before; with you as his reason to hold on.

knows it when he sees how the night's breeze makes your hair sway, the moon's glow a wink in the vastness that is the universe and the incomparable feeling that his universe, his wish, is right next to him.

he failed you time and time again.

now, xavier swears to never fail you again.

loving you feels like being showered the touch of a thousand flickering embers burning up to become a fire, and xavier doubts he can put it out.

he won't.

you like stars. xavier thinks that should you ask him to pluck one out for you, he'd hate it if only because he wishes to keep you in his arms for a little longer.

(he'd do it anyway.)

one look, one touch; leaving him to be stardust begging to be held in your hands. a star swept off its feet.

leaving him to find sleep a secondary choice in nature so as to burn your image into the scope of his memory. making him feel that happiness he only feels when he's with you.

loving you is painful, but loving you is worth it. he's fallen, and falls even more everyday.

"xavier?" did you know that every inch of his will has promptly devoted itself to you? would bend to your words without a thought and hear your every wish?

"hm?" he exerts, feeling the weight of your eyes on him.

you lean against him and the stars dim. the world falls to a hush. it's only you, it was always you—

xavier doesn't think to breathe; he listens to the sound of your heart thumping steadily in your chest, the rhythmic beat a reason to live again, to love you again. no words are needed more, not when your presence permeates across the void words cannot hope to fill.

"can i lean on you just a bit longer?"

(yes. always.)

"....as much as you want." his eyes soften, and his words are tender. "as long as you need."

he sees you smile, watches as your cheeks become full by the way your joy lights up your face, and xavier's world does too.

you're everything, xavier thinks. to the point he feels as though all the stars up in the sky shine if only to witness you.

a/n pls don't judge me for this half-baked fic and the possible in corrections of xavier lore; did i mention this was supposed to be a rafayel fic but ya girl decided to tap out

[९] 2024 © iceunhie do not copy or repost my work. do not use my work for your own use

#꒰ ✉ ꒱ 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓'𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒔 •°. *࿐ #xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace xavier #xavier x reader #xavier love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace fic #xavier fluff #𝑪𝑨𝑻𝑨𝑳𝑶𝑮𝑼𝑬 ★ LOVE & DEEPSPACE . . . #uhhhhhhh so yeah..... rafayel's fic is basically blueprintef off of this drabble #anyways i actually am so fond of Xavier

[wyniepooh]

Want

stuck in a dark, crowded bar, stuck against aaron hotchner. you want him to give in, he just wants you.

oh my GOD EXTREME tension. in fact the only plot point can be summed up in one word: TENSION. mentions of alcohol and tipsiness. bau!reader struggling with a particular case, hotch comforts… and does a little more 😊

the music was blaring entirely too loud.

your second drink was starting to become watered down as the light buzz you craved swarmed your head from your first. when you touched the cold glass, water wet your warm fingertips. a strong breeze enabled you to shiver and look towards the entrance, where a large group of young college students swarmed into the already stuffed and cramped room.

your ears had began to ring, and the flickering lights were making your eyes heavy with pain. you thought about walking out, getting some night air, and feeling the moonlight shine on your face. but when you finally decided to try and get up, there was barely any space left for you to even lift your arms up. you sighed, sitting back down on the beat up stool, elbows resting on the bar table.

“you okay?” the familiarly deep voice asked. you turned your head to reveal aaron behind you, still wearing what he had on this morning in the bau headquarters— his usual, perfectly tight suit with a scarily neat tie. the only noticeable difference in his appearance was that his usually gelled hair was, god forbid, messy. a couple stands of dark hair fell in front of his forehead.

you flashed him a brief smile, “yeah, fine.” you fiddled with the flashy umbrella toothpick in your glass.

he raised his brows, saying nothing because he knew the look in his eyes said it all. he knew how you really felt, but he also knew you would never admit you were anything but fine.

“still thinking about the case, aren’t you?”

you scoffed, “how could i not?” as you took another sip of your drink, images of the various children that were rescued from an abandoned truck flashed through your mind. they were alive, yes. but how could they possibly live life like they used to before? do they even remember what it was like? the sound of a screaming girl filled your brain.

you ran both your hands through your hair, letting out a loud sigh. “god, i hate when kids are involved.”

“i know. me too.”

“they just..” you gulped back a stone in your throat, “they’re so innocent. or, they were once. but now… it’s all gone. i hate that they won’t ever chase butterflies or play in the sand box again, or play in the snow or get ice cream on the beach. all those memories are ruined for them now.”

aaron let out a sigh. a beat passed, and you knew he was thinking of what to say. after a moment, the silence was interrupted by his hushed voice. “agent. they may not have their childhood anymore, but they’ll continue to have their teenagehood, their adulthood, maybe their motherhood or fatherhood. and it’s all because of the work you’ve done. the work we’ve all done. focus on the good. instead of thinking about what they were, think about what they will be.”

you lowered your head slightly, your hair falling to cover you face. you smiled to yourself over his words. fuck, he always knew what to say. why did he always have to know what to say?

a comfortable silence fell upon the two of you as he settled on the stool beside you. he declined the bartender for a drink with a firm extend of his hand, turning his whole body towards you instead. you opened your mouth, then closed it. you wanted to thank him, or at least say something. but no words could be heard coming from your mouth.

aaron, as usual, noticed your discomfort. he tilted his head towards the door with a soft grin and said,

“let’s get out of here.”

you chuckled gratefully, nodding and pushing back your stool to allow yourself to try and get up once again. but before you could turn around, a sudden push pressed your stomach harshly against the bar table.

you exclaimed quietly before looking back at the crowd and rolling your eyes as a sigh came over you. you were completely trapped between the bar table and a group of drunk, dancing, college guys singing annoyingly off-key. seeing your position, hotch comes over and wedges himself between you and a drunk guy who was letting his hands fall a little too close to your tight jeans.

with his chest to your back, he rested a light hand on your arm, leaning down to whisper, “are you okay?”

your face flushed at the close proximity, his hand placement, and the way his words tingled your ears. you were suddenly thankful the room was so dark and swarming with strobe lights, as it was hopefully concealing your ragged breaths and red cheeks. you cleared your throat before responding.

“yeah, fine. just…” you wiggled and attempted to turn, “…totally stuck,” you chuckled.

another push came from behind, both his arms coming down to grip the bar table in front of you.

“just stay like this for a while. we’ll sneak out once this song ends and they stop singing like maniacs and spread out a little more.”

you nodded in response, your head down in embarrassment as you notice just how tight you two are pressed together, and how big his hands look resting on the table compared to yours. people on the dance floor began to move to the beat of the music, the waves of pushes like currents in the sea during a stormy night. another push. and another. one after the other.

whenever you turned your head or adjusted your position, you felt a rush of warm air kiss your ears, making your arms feel like jelly. you were glad the stool aided you in holding you up, as clearly, your arms couldn’t do the job any longer.

it certainly wasn’t the first time you’ve felt so nervous and electrified around aaron, but each time you did, you manage to surprise yourself with just how tender you get.

ever since you walked into the bau building, you knew you were screwed. just up laying eyes on aaron hotchner, you knew your days would suddenly start to feel longer. aaron with his neatly ironed suits, aaron with his gucci ties. aaron with his soothing, dark, voice, neat hair, and clean cologne. aaron who always, always checked up on everyone, aaron who would lightly touch your arm or caress the side of your face. aaron who says “atta girl”, and taps his hand on your back when he hugs. aaron who gave you soft smiles when other weren’t looking and aaron who only occasionally laughed at your lame jokes.

it was no surprise, really, that you had begun to look forward to getting up every morning to go to work.

a particularly harsh bump pushed aaron firmly against you, and a grunt make it’s way past his lips. it was hard to tell with all your senses on alert and tingling, but you heard him mumble something incoherently under his breath. you inhaled sharply, shaking your head quickly to get rid of the butterflies in your stomach.

you told yourself maybe it was the alcohol speaking. maybe the strobe lights were making you hallucinate, or maybe the music was making you think of other things. all of it was responsible for making you imagine the quickening of aaron’s heartbeat against your back, his ragged breaths, the way his hands tightened it’s grip on the table.

but really, in that moment, the music zoned out. your eyes no longer hurt from the flashing lights and everyone disappeared from view. it was just you, and him.

you finally found the courage to turn your head and look back at him, his forehead a little sweaty and his lips pursued. you looked down quickly. the both of you were so close, yet so far. he was holding back. his need, his desire. a fated push caused aaron’s nose to rub roughly against yours, and your broken breaths synced. you leaned forward, your nose still on his. you opened your mouth as if to say something, but you said nothing. you didn’t need to.

you eyes moved up to try and find his, but he was already looking at you. one of his hands came down to rest on your stomach, inching you even deeper against him. he leaned down, his lips barely brushing yours. it was completely silent for a moment. then, he breathed,

“do you want this?”

-

a/n: consent is sexy everyone 😇

#wyniepooh #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #ssa hotchner #agent hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #aaron hotch fic #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch imagine #cm imagine #hotch smut #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotch smut #cm smut #aaron hotch imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x you

[peachy-posy]

Stargazing (Vash the Stampede x Reader)

Summary: An encounter with a bounty hunter leaves you feeling uneasy.

A/N: Vash has me in a chokehold, all I can do is write fics. Pls send help. Anyway, I am once again combining elements of both 98 Vash and Stampede Vash because best of both worlds and all that <3 Posted here on AO3

Warnings: Non-graphic violence, strong yearning (pre-relationship ofc), idiots in love

Word Count: 2.5k

Today was too close.

Rapidly cooling water drips down your sore arms as you hug your knees to your chest in the bath. The only sound in the bathroom of the quiet inn is the occasional drip of the faucet leaking into the cloudy bathwater. You close your eyes, resting your forehead on the tops of your knees.

A bounty hunter had caught you both by surprise. The pair of you were nearing the next town in your travels, laughing and chatting with each other like always. You had been admiring him; how the sunlight made his hair shine like gold, how his brilliant blue eyes would sometimes peek over his sunglasses if they slipped too far down his nose when he laughed. 

Then, there was a gunshot. 

It was all so fast. The rapid shifting of his expression made you feel like someone had dumped a bucket of ice cold water over your head. He shoved you, and then you were on the sand, looking up at him as a bullet tore the side of his shoulder.

You were frozen, the shock of it gluing you to the ground. He was virtually unphased, drawing his gun with a focused expression and frightening efficiency. He fired a single shot, and you registered someone grunting in surprise. Vash taking off in that direction was what shook you out of your stupor - you scrambled clumsily to your feet, drawing your revolver and following him.

The rest of it was a weird blur in your memory. The fight ended the way all of the other ones do. But for some reason, this one was so different. You couldn’t get the image of Vash being struck by the bullet out of your mind, even now.

The bullet that was supposed to hit you.

Luckily, it was just a graze. He didn’t even really need much first aid. But while he laughed and shrugged it off, you trembled the whole way into town.

You open your eyes once more, blinking a few times to focus your vision. The cloudy water ripples gently around you, and you realize that you are shaking. The water has grown quite cold, and you take that as a sign that it’s time to get out. 

After pulling the drain, you lift yourself out of the old tub, carefully maneuvering over the ledge. You make quick work of toweling yourself dry, wanting to escape the chill of the water. Goosebumps raise on your skin regardless.

You change into the set of clothes you brought into the bathroom with you, running a brush through your hair carelessly. You didn’t have it in you tonight to care all that much about your hair of all things.

After finishing up, you reach for the doorknob, but find yourself hesitating just before reaching it. The idea of sitting in the room with Vash made you feel nauseous. 

What a great friend you are.

You feel sick with guilt over that stupid graze on his shoulder. Logically, you know that it’s not your fault and he doesn’t blame you. You know that you would have shoved him out of the way if your positions were reversed. You know that both of you have had much, much worse injuries from various encounters with enemies. So, why are you feeling so weird? 

You swallow thickly. Suck it up. Stop being weird and go sit with him. Talk like you always do.

Inhaling deeply and finding your resolve, you square your shoulders and open the door. He’s sitting on one of the two beds in the room, cleaning his gun meticulously. Locks of his golden hair fall in his face, and he shakes his head to the side to move it out of the way. You find yourself smiling fondly at his focused expression, his bright eyes flicking up at you for a moment before returning to his task. He smiles softly, hands working all the while.

“Hey,” he calls softly.

His focused expression, while endearing, reminds you of how he looked earlier today. You feel your resolve crumble, and that constricting feeling squeezes your chest once more.

“Hey,” you manage weakly, walking over to your old, worn boots sitting by the door. You sit down, lacing them up. 

Coward.

Out of your peripheral vision, you see him look up at you, more intently this time. He says nothing for a moment, likely seeing if you plan on explaining where you’re going. 

“Everything okay?” He finally asks, the silence stretching on long enough apparently. 

You tighten the laces with a firm tug and sigh. “I’m okay. I’ll be back in a little while.” He seems like he’s about to question you some more, so you add in a teasing tone, “Go have a bath. You could use it, Stampede.”

He gasps with mock offense, his hand clutching his chest. You crack a smile, and you can tell he’s stifling a smile of his own.

“You’re so mean!” He pouted. 

You finish with your laces, standing up and putting your hands on your hips. “Doesn’t mean I’m not right!” 

He frowns playfully in response, and you shoot him a grin, turning to face the door. You reach for the knob, but the sound of your name from his lips has your hand coming to a halt before reaching its destination. You turn your head to the side, silently waiting for him to continue. 

He catches your eye, hesitating as he settles on what to say. “Be careful,” he finally murmurs softly, and you give him what you hope is a reassuring smile. You feel more guilt squeezing your heart at his affectionate expression. 

“I will,” you promise. With that, you twist the doorknob and quietly leave the room.

You don’t even know where you’re going. You left with absolutely no plan, letting anxiety and avoidant tendencies drive your decision to flee the room. You let your feet guide you out of the building, walking onto the small street. At this hour, there aren’t many out. You pause, sighing and lifting your gaze to the clear sky. The stars look stunning. 

You know where you want to go. 

There is a large rock formation right near the inn. You remember seeing it on your way into town today. The vantage point it would provide would make for some excellent star gazing. 

You walk around the base of the large rock aimlessly for a bit, trying to find a way up.  Eventually, you stumble upon a small, worn portion of the stone, making a path of sorts. Looks like the locals enjoy coming up here too.

You slowly make your way up the rock, the worn, smooth path becoming clearer as you ascend. At the top, you find that there are lots of flat spaces to sit down at, so you choose one near the edge. The ground is cold, the air is cold, but it’s all worth it for the view. 

The rock sits behind the inn, tall enough to be above the buildings of the town. You can see the vast, open desert stretch as far as the eye can see in every direction. The inky, dark sky is clear, the stars glittering brilliantly above you. Your cold, wet hair clings to your skin as you hug your knees to your chest. You feel most at ease under the night sky like this. Your problems feel small in magnitude when they are compared to the vastness of the universe.

You don’t know how long you sat in that spot, unmoving, thinking about both everything and nothing. It was apparently long enough to warrant a search party of one, though, you soon find out. 

You feel a sudden warmth drape over your shoulders. You turn around, but know who it is before seeing him. The warmth surrounding you comes in the form of a long, red coat you know very well. Your eyes travel up the tall figure behind you, eventually finding his own staring down at you. The look he gives you is nothing short of fond exasperation. You are certain your confusion is clear on your face, because how did he find you?

He crouches down, reaching for your wet strands of hair. He lets a small, wet lock slide between his fingers, and he sighs.

“You’ll catch a cold out here like this, Mayfly.”

You clutch the red coat that is engulfing your frame, drawing it against your chilled body more tightly. 

“How’d you find me?”

He sits down beside you, close enough that your shoulders are brushing against one another. 

“Because I know you. When in doubt, I go to the highest point I can find, and you’re usually looking at the stars up there.”

Well that makes your chest feel weird. You didn’t even consciously do all that, but he knows you well enough to spot those subconscious little patterns and habits. 

“Oh,” you breathe out, not knowing what to say.

He doesn’t suffer from the same predicament, apparently, because he keeps going. 

“I also know you well enough to know when you’re avoiding me.” You suck in a breath, ready to cut him off and argue that statement, but he shushes you, continuing. You relent begrudgingly, because… well, he’s not wrong. “Let me explain! It’s okay - well, it’s not necessarily ideal, but I’m not upset. I just want to know what’s wrong.”

Oh, this is dangerous. Because you’d tell him anything he wants to know if he looks at you like that for much longer. He locks eyes with you, gazing at you so earnestly, so kindly. You start to look down to avoid the eye contact that has you under its spell, but he quickly reaches out to lift your chin back up. 

“Please, Mayfly. Let me in.”

The dam cracks ever slightly. 

“How’s your arm?” You ask, and he furrows his brows. 

“It’s… fine? Why?”

He’s wearing that black turtleneck he always wears. You reach out to gently graze his arm, keeping your touch featherlight. He watches you curiously.

“I don’t know. I really—“ you cut yourself off with a sigh, feeling stupid. “I’ve just felt weird ever since you… well, you know.”

He regards you for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. He says nothing, prompting the dam to crack a bit more.

“And I know today wasn’t that out of the ordinary. I know that. But…” you feel the traitorous burn of tears in your eyes, but keep going. “It scared me. That’s all.”

His expression doesn’t give much away, but you swear he seems… sad. Yes, definitely sad. You furrow your brows as he gives you that fake smile, the one you know he hides behind so often with others. It hurts to have it directed at you.

“Listen… I completely understand if you don’t want to travel with me anymore. Having danger constantly at your heels? It is scary. Of course it is. I know that better than anyone.” His voice is soft, and there’s a melancholic sound to it that you recognize from spending countless hours with him. He takes a deep breath, continuing. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to protect yourself… this is your life we’re talking about. That’s something that’s precious, something that needs to be protected. I promise you, there will be no hard feelings if you want to part ways.”

Wait, wait. What is he saying? Does he think you’re afraid because the bullet could’ve hit you?

Well of course he does. Why would he think otherwise? You haven’t explained yourself. This is probably the most logical conclusion for him to jump to. 

“No! Vash, wait, no. Please,” you reach out, taking his hands, halting the rambling he was engaging in while you sorted your thoughts out. “Listen.”

He obeys, watching you carefully, and gives you his attention with a nod.

“I wasn’t afraid for me. I was afraid for you.”

He looks completely taken aback. “Me?”

You frown. “Yes, of course you!” You squeeze his hands, not liking how surprised he sounds. “I care about you a lot, and today, I think I just realized that I need to do better. I need to be better. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt at all if I’d noticed that bounty hunter the way you had. I don’t want you getting harmed, especially not because of me.” Your voice trembled as you spoke. At some point during your admission, the tears you’d held back finally spilled. The dam broke. You sniffle, turning away from him.

He breathes your name so softly, you almost miss it. “C’mere.”

You feel arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close, and you don’t hesitate to curl into him. He holds you tight, hand threaded in your wet hair.

“I’m okay. No more tears. Not for me,” he murmurs, resting his chin on the top of your head.

It’s at this moment that you realize the true crux of the issue. You are terrified of losing him. He has become the most important person in your life, and so many people want him hurt or dead. That’s terrifying. This man, this kind, gentle person, is so hated for no reason. 

He’s become so much more to you than just a travel companion, or even a friend for that matter. That… is also a terrifying thought. 

“I promise I’m okay. And I’ll be okay. You don’t need to worry about me.”

You pull away from his chest enough to meet his eyes. “I’ll always worry about you.”

He softens, a smile forming on his lips.

You lean back into his chest, sitting together quietly, neither making a move to separate from the other. You watch the starry night sky, leaning your head onto him. His arm stays wrapped around you, keeping you close. 

He’s the first to break the silence.

“It’s… nice,” he remarks softly. “It’s been a while since I had someone to worry about me. Or to cry for me.”

Your eyes widen, heart breaking at his words. This world has been so, so unkind to him.

“I know that sounds bad to say. I guess I just mean… I’m glad I have you,” he whispers, chin resting on your head. You can hear the smile in his voice.

This starts a whole new wave of fresh tears. You turn around and face him, a tear sliding down your cheek. If you weren’t so heartbroken by his words, you would’ve laughed at the expression of pure panic he gives you.

“Wait! No, don’t cry! I’m sorry!”

Shifting to sit on your knees in front of him, you wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him in a tight hug. You feel his jacket slip off your shoulders, but you don’t care. 

“It doesn’t sound bad at all. I’ll be that person for you. Always,” you murmur. “I’m sorry that people have been so cruel to you. If I could undo the hurt that others have done to you, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

You feel him slowly wrap his arms around your waist, reciprocating the embrace as he processes your words. Though belated, he’s holding you just as fiercely as you’re holding him. 

“Please… stay with me. I know it’s selfish to ask—“

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, Stampede.” You smile at him. “I don’t know how you put up with me.”

“It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

#trigun #vash the stampede #vash the stampede x reader #trigun stampede #trigun 98 #vash x reader #vash x you #peachy writes!

[akilikesbread]

quotes from watching trigun stampede with my friends so SPOILERS:

“Bro he even falls zestily” (in reference to wolfwood)

“oh cool flashback” “more like a VASHBACK am i right? ZINGER” “kys.”

“my lawyers have advised me to not discuss what i would do to his stupid fluffy blonde hair”

WW: “the big man upstairs made me strong” “The big man upstairs made me like people with wires and mandibles.”

*vashs arm gets sucked into a blackhole* “bro wtf, hollow purple”

“boy why you so 🪴”

“motherfucker so gay the cigarette bends the second it touches his mouth”

“this is just a documentary of california”

*BadLads gang shows up* “BL? Boys love? They kiss men?”

*Livio standing menacingly* “SANS???”

*in reference to eye of Michael* “Why’s their logo literally new mexico”

*Legato appearance* “blue hair AND PRONOUNS??” “whats with daman mills and voicing gay men”

*Woowoo getting tortured* “theyre injecting 🏳️‍🌈 into his bloodstream”

*First wolfwood appearance* “He better hit people with that fucking cross”

“he looks hot when hes troubled”

*In reference to Rosa* “If pregnant lady dies i’m leaving the call

“OH MY GOD HES REDPILLED.” “Vashed and redpilled”

“Tricum stampede”

*we were watching on an illegal site so it kept opening new tabs* “AHHHH PORN”

*wolfwood gets fucking bent in half by legato* “Bro where can i get a massage like that”

“Roberto looks like. hold on.” The image sent:

“if the animation was a person i’d make out with them sloppy style. with tongue.”

*in Rollo’s old town with the biblical radio shit* “Guys this sounds just like something my bus driver would say”

*zazie turns into a swarm* “would you still love me if i was a worm :(“

“vash’s mom is pretty” “i’m gonna stop you right there.”

*vash.* “LOOK AT HIS SLUTTY WAIST”

“yeah nai just really liked taking out arms this episode”

*knives playing the piano in the distance* “IS THAT THE GRIM REAPER😨😨😨”

EG Bomber: “MASTER KNIVES😈” my friend in the zestiest voice ever: “master😳”

Vash: *reloading* “THATS SO FUCKING HOOOOTTT” “i wish i was that gun.”

*wolfwood gets fucking run over* “i think hes my new favorite character”

*vash getting chased by the residents of jenora rock* “california has never looked livelier”

“Call me Millions Knives.” “edgy ass emo name, he sounds like hes a 13 year old emo who listens to panic at the disco and cries himself to sleep at night.”

“is this prophetic stress dream bothering you queen”

“i wish Californian sand looked as good here, dont eat the californian sand, its chunky”

*conrad appears* “LUIGI???”

“so this is julai…” “its still may dude, idk how to tell you this”

*Julai screenpan.* “THIS IS JUST VEGAS.”

*wolfwood and vash running away* “me when i skeddadle”

*vash gets shot and walks away* “bros like ‘damn i just got shot :(‘“

“Nicholas the Punisher.” “he can punish me if he wants I MEAN WHAAAAAT”

*That Roberto Scene™️* “*through tears* SO HOW ARE YOU GUYS ENJOYING THE SHOW?”

*Knives dramatically playing piano* “You and that fuckin church organ.”

“5gum stampede”

“Why is nai so jacked???” “theyre both built like brick shithouses”

*Meryl points a gun at conrad* “KILL YOURSELF OLD MAN.”

“WHYS NAI CLENCHING HIS ASS SO HARD…”

“Vash wake up!!” “THIS ISNT LIKE YOU POOKIE”

*Wolfwood steals one last cigarette from Roberto* “Rare cigarette that wasnt fucked up”

“WHO CUT THEIR HAIR.” “Xinqiu.” “Yelan ass haircuts.”

*talking about vash* “hes such a shonen protag. Food friendship and (avoiding) fighting”

“Knives, ur literally gay. i dont wanna hear it.”

“The entrance to the higher plane!” “it looks like a butthole.”

*Knives fucking just floating into the higher dimension* “*cackling*” “WHY HE SLIDE LIKE THAAAT” “stone scraping sound effect”

“Vash shouldve been called damian”

“Prepare mentally for episode twelve, take a deep breath, take a sip of water-“ “KISS A MAN” “DONT KISS A MAN” “KISS A MAN!!!”

*start of episode twelve.* “surely this wont be horrifying”

“I promise to protect you both.” “well you really sucked at that, huh.” “yeah fuck you rem” “HELP???”

*looks at Nai* “Whys he wearing a speedo…”

*Red geranium sprouts in tint Vash’s hand* “NAI LOOK DO YOU WANNA SEE A MAGIC TWICK”

*Running through field of red geraniums* “this reminds me of the angry birds logo”

“metal wing?” “its made of knives, yk, like his name :D” “shut up.” “alright then.”

*chanting* “CUBE!!!!”

“HES GONNA STAMPEDE!!!”

“kiss my vash!!”

#lmao #vash tristamp #trigun stampede #trigun #trigun meryl #vash my beloved #vash saverem #vash the humanoid typhoon #vashwood #vashmeryl #tristamp wolfwood #wolfwood my beloved #nick wolfwood #nicholas d. wolfwood #roberto trigun #there will probably be more added to this #we havent finished it yet so stay tuned

[thatgirlonstage]

mermay prompt: JamiKali + gold?

I'm not entirely happy with the way I ended this one but if I keep picking at it I will run out of time to work on other prompts so I'm calling it good. Keep an eye on the Ao3 collection next year, I might put a revised version up once I've had longer to sit on it. I really like the worldbuilding concept I'm playing with, anyway :3

(also I hope you see this, nonny — sorry for taking most of the month to get to it!!!)

———

Mermaids cry pearls and their scales are made of gold.

Those are the kinds of myths that Jamil grows up hearing, circulating in whispers through the bazaar, repeated like a dreamy incantation by traders in their cups, posted in hashtags below visibly photoshopped images of supposed beachside treasures.

“If only they knew, huh Jamil?” Kalim giggles by his side, letting silk run over his hands like water. When his fingers lift away, there’s an embroidered pattern of fish leaping along the edge of the headscarf, flashing in the sunlight. Kalim’s smile is brighter than the pure silver of the thread, a searing thing, white teeth a slash in his brown skin. “I don’t think these people even believe mermaids really exist.”

Jamil bites down hard on the urge to tell him to shut up. Drawing any attention will only make Kalim’s remarks seem significant to anyone who already overheard them. He bites down so hard that his lip splits. He tastes iron. Kalim, brow furrowing, reaches up and swipes a thumb over Jamil’s mouth.

When mermaid blood is spilled on sand, it turns into rubies.

“Are you all right?” Kalim asks, popping his bloodied thumb back out of his mouth. “You’ve been so quiet today.” He spits a shard of something glittering and red into his palm, considers it, and discards it on the ground. A moment later, Jamil hears a muffled exclamation from behind them. He does not look back. Looking back will only draw attention. People exclaim in bazaars all the time.

“It’s too hot,” he says by way of excuse. “It’s making me tired.”

Kalim pokes him in the shoulder, a friendly reproach. “You should have said! I would’ve come on my own. It’s only the groceries.”

“Last time I let you go on your own, you left an entire frieze of the legend of Sinbad carved over the entrance of the fish merchant’s stall.”

Mermaids have sea silk for hair. I bet if you plucked a mermaid’s eyelashes they’d be made of saffron.

Kalim laughs, the sound high and bright and as bubbly as a stream. “I forgot about that! The poor man was so confused.” He trails just the edge of his pinky finger along a piece of pottery, and the mosaic pattern gains a thin golden outline. “I’m sorry I make you worry, but it’s just that your magic is so abundant, I’m overflowing all the time.” He leans up and presses his lips to Jamil’s cheek. “Take a little back, okay? It’ll help me behave.”

When a mermaid kisses you, forever after, every time you speak, gems will fall from your lips.

Jamil feels his own magic surge backward into his skin, electricity racing up and down his spine. It sits there, crouching in his nerves, making every hair on the back of his neck stand up, locked in his blood. He inhales sharply and lets the breath hiss back out between his teeth.

“Warn me when you’re about to do that,” he says. “It’s not exactly comfortable.”

“Oops.” Kalim looks contrite. “Sorry, I gave you back a little more than I meant to!” He reaches as if to take some of it again, but Jamil jerks his head away.

“It’s fine.” The magic pulls at his tendons, crackling with unreleased potential. He grits his teeth against the scraping, scrabbling, screaming need for release, the way it hits a wall at every turn. Kalim is at least no longer quietly turning every pebble he steps on into sea glass.

“Your magic really is just that potent,” Kalim tells him, settling back into his place next to Jamil, grin diamond-white in the afternoon sun. “I can make anything you want, Jamil.” He slides his hand into Jamil’s, interlocking their fingers. “Just ask. Whenever you want anything, just ask and it’s all yours.”

Jamil hopes the smile he gives in return looks less forced than it feels. He can’t bring himself to speak, to tell Kalim the truth. He only breathes and lets himself imagine the contact of their palms makes his magic trickle back into Kalim a little faster, that the pounding desperation in his skull to let the magic out of his skin is a little lessened, that the tightness of his jaw is due to sun and stress and hours spent with Kalim as company, and not a curse weaving its prohibition into his tongue and teeth, stopping any spell from passing his lips.

If someone asked Jamil Viper to tell them a story about mermaids, this is what he would have said:

It’s true, mermaids can make you rich beyond your wildest dreams.

But they can’t do it alone. They have to borrow your magic.

If you wish, you can promise them magic in return for jewels, for gold, for pearls, for anything your heart could desire.

So go to the river if you want, trail a finger in the water under the full moon, and send out a spark to let one of them know you want to talk.

But be careful.

Once you’ve made a pact with one it cannot be undone.

They will stay bound to your bloodline forever.

———

Mermay prompts are open until May 31st!

#twst #twisted wonderland #jamikali #mermay #jamil viper #kalim al asim #my writing

[arctrooper69]

hello i come rolling in with a fic request because i adore your style of writing, but please don’t feel pressured! i understand you probably get a lot of requests

could you do a wolffe x reader fic (probably fluff or hurt comfort) where it’s based on “annie’s song” by john denver? i have an image of them slow dancing in the rain in a meadow in my head but you don’t have to include that

thank you so much!! 💚💚

This is such a beautiful song 😍 I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get this to you! I hope I captured the essence of the song for you!

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Come Let Me Love You

...Let me lay down beside you. Let me always be with you. Come, let me love you. Come love me again...

Warnings: Bittersweet angst. Allusions to Order 66.

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Closing your eyes, you could almost pretend like it wasn't real - like there wasn't a war outside.

The sunlight danced upon your skin in a sweet embrace of a comforting warmth. If you kept your eyes closed, it felt like home. The smell of lilacs drifted through the trees; the long grass tickled the bottoms of your feet. They were here - all of them. Your boys in white. The same in face but their eyes told stories of their own. Some faded, flitting about as ghosts - only here to guide brothers still standing - but all were clad in armor of their chosen colors. They seemed content. No war here, only peace. The sleepy crashing of ocean waves, wind whispering through the sky and the feather-soft song of birds floated through the air in gentle harmonies of a melody you couldn't begin to describe. Familiar - yet an ethereal mystery.

"Dance with me, Mesh'la?"

The words sounded strange coming from the mouth of a battle-worn clone. Grey armor worn by a scarred face with one eye replaced by cybernetics. Intimidating; observant; yet kind and gentle in touch. Only you could see the man beneath the solider. That side of him made itself known for you and only you. What was once a weakness he hated, now became his strength to carry on.

Commander Wolffe was never one to give in so easily. Neither were you. He couldn't wrap his head around whatever cosmic force demanded that he hold you close. The angry storm of battle that raged within him seemed to quell - commanded into a silent peace - simply by having you near.

In a dream, the simple melody seemed to swell with pearls of youthful laughter as he took your hand and spun you around. If he could drown himself in that beautiful sound, what a way to go it would be.

Drifting through the waving grass, he held on tight as if upon letting you go, he'd float somewhere far away.

In a trance, together you drifted, like time itself did not exist. Nothing existed save for the grizzled Clone Commander and the object of his desires.

A gentle hand lifted your face to meet his eyes. Rough and calloused fingertips that soothed like sand.

"I have to go, Mesh'la. Duty calls."

Your lips moved as if to whisper a soft, mournful plea, yet no words were spoken.

Please don't go. Not yet.

As if called down by the pain of parted lovers, a misty rain began to fall. The universe itself was crying, mourning the violent innocence of artificial creation. Yet the rain was not all for sorrow. It felt cool and comforting - as though to sooth your fears - like the lips that ran gently across your face, telling you that everything would be okay.

Come, let me love you.

"One more dance?" The words came softly, slipping out as little more than a whisper - but you knew the words were heard.

"One more dance, my love. One more song."

The rain continued to fall, lightly tapping the leaves, wetting the soil where flowers bloomed - one for every fallen brother.

He was all around you. Strong arms guiding you through vibrant petals of red in a field of poppies that danced in the sweetness of a summer breeze. The aroma of a musky cedar and lonely petrichor intertwined and spiraled upwards emanating from somewhere around you. His scent - the one with which you had associated him from the first time he'd spoken to you down in the gardens of the Senate building that fateful morning.

Around and around he spun you, holding you together with arms that you supposed were strong enough to hold the world - dancing in the rain to that strange enchanting melody. Everything else apathetically faded into nothing as you let him fill your senses with that pure, yet melancholic bliss.

"Won't you stay?"

Let me lay down beside you. Let me always be with you.

Never let me go.

***

The low rumble of a brewing storm woke you with a strange gentleness. You lay unmoving beneath the sheets, unfocused eyes gazing blankly through the ceiling as though trying in vain to retreat back into the Commander's longing arms. The sensation of his lips lingered on your skin as you touched your cheek, fingers brushing the ghosts of his kisses. They came away wet. Only now did you realize the falling tears were your own.

Something had happened. The world was different now. The galaxy was grieving. You could sense it in the air and smell it's metallic sorrow in the rain as it fell outside the open window. A feeling of wrongness pervaded your senses. It was mournful and empty.

Commander Wolffe wouldn't be coming back this time.

Maybe someday. Maybe not ever.

Like being led once more through an unfamiliar dance, you rose and took the dress you'd lain out the night before. It hung lightly down to the knees, adorned with red poppies.

Perfect for dancing.

Quietly you hung it back on the wall. You would wait for your soldier.

Come let me love you.

Only then would you dance again.

Come love me again.

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