#;;i love bane immensely

[nwjws]

WAIT FOR YOU TO LIKE ME AGAIN - LSH

; SYNOPSIS - whether it be in the middle of the halls or during his election speech, heeseung's never passed up an opportunity to ask you out on a date. although you've always said no, that hasn't stopped the boy from trying again anyway - at least until senior year, when he suddenly stopped pursuing you, to your (and everyone's) bewilderment.

; PAIRING - heeseung x fem!reader

; TAGS - one-shot, fluff, slice of life, highschool au, stuco president!heeseung, vice president!reader, one-sided enemies to lovers ; WARNINGS - angst, mild swearing, light mentions of an abusive ex (not hee's or reader's)

; WC - 11.7k (including the bonus at the end)

; PLAYLIST ► blue butterflies (JIHN) ► line without a hook (ricky montgomery) ► making the bed (olivia rodrigo) ► comfort crowd (conan gray) ► love. (wave to earth)

; AUTHOR'S CORNER ! first fic after hiatus omg. also half the things in this fic rlly happened and the other half were google searches guess which ones are which 😝 i planned to post this on the 17th but i finished it just now and my brain is fried so here we goooo

you hated lee heeseung.

throughout the three years you've known him, he's been always the bane of your existence. the boy was constantly bugging you and pulling a new stunt to show off and get your attention. all of this just to ask you out on a date - something he's been doing practically every week since the age of fourteen.

seriously, after a hundred 'no's you'd think he'd learn to back off. and yet, he was still persistent in pursuing you.

at least, until your final year began.

see, you two had been competing against each other for the position of student council president at the end of last year. unfortunately for you, he was immensely popular; an actual threat. on top of being the captain for boys' volleyball team, he was class rep. and actively helped out teachers after school. students and teachers alike were drawn in by his hardworking yet casual nature and how easily he talked to others. despite the busy campaigns and rivalry, he still managed to somehow find time to ask you out, ending his final speech with, "and aren't all these qualities worthy of at least one date?"

of course he'd still find a way to make such an important event about asking you out. whoops and cheers echoed the hall, with almost everyone looking at you. everyone knew your history, with half the school on his side, cheering him on and urging you to say yes.

thankfully, the other half of the student body understood that no means no, and were more sympathetic towards you. after all, it's not like you were disliked or anything - you were as well known as h*es*ung.

you yourself had led the school to win several math competitions over the years, and tutored over ten students in your highschool career (get that money girl!). in addition, you were already on the council as the treasurer.

yet, it was his last sentence that one the people over and he'd been chosen as the president, with you as vice.

"just say yes. one date won't hurt," ningning had chuckled when you complained again, once she'd come back from her summer camp.

"my pride and reputation of always saying no will be."

"maybe he'll back off if you do?"

"no number of rejections has stopped him, how would a 'yes' do that?"

"maybe he'll realise you're absolutely undateable," she laughed at you, which had you throwing a pillow at her in retaliation.

you scowled at her before pulling out your phone and finding heeseung's instagram.

"thanks for meeting with us today, i'm sure you guys are excited to go home. first days are always tough." and with that, heeseung closed up the first meeting of the year.

conversation and the screeching of chairs filled the room as everyone began to pack up and leave, bidding goodbye to each other. as president and vice president, you and heeseung were left behind to clean up after the others and sort out other documents and such.

you half-heartedly expected another question of a date from him as you threw away the paper cups and teabags, but it never came.

instead, all he said was, "good job today."

you turned to look at him, with his bag slung over one shoulder and a hand stuffed into his pocket. he gave you a tight smile and left the room after that, reminding you to lock up before you left.

a little disconcerted, you continued the last few tasks while mumbling to yourself, "that ass, making me clean up and not..." you didn't finish that thought. it almost sounded like you wanted him to ask you out on another date. you thought he would though - he always did, but the first day of school passed without incident.

well, it's only the first day. he'll definitely ask you out tomorrow, or later this week. he's never missed a chance to do so during first week of school.

he hasn't asked you out at all. not in the first week, nor the second, or the third.

a whole month had gone by, and all you'd heard from heeseung was student council-related stuff. he hadn't even talked to you outside of meetings.

"did you two fight, or something?" ningning asked you curiously.

"i dunno?" you reply truthfully. you really weren't sure if what was going on between you was a fight or just a change in dynamics. it was confusing.

the rest of the school noticed too; the halls whispered when you passed by, wary and concerned looks thrown your way. someone even asked off handedly in conversation: 'are you two secretly dating, then?' everyone was walking on eggshells around you two.

"well, i guess you can rest now."

"huh?"

"you said you wanted him to stop, didn't you?" ningning raised an eyebrow at you. "who knows how many times you've complained about it to me in the past. it's made up like, half of our conversations in all our years of friendship."

"oh, right."

ningning tilted her head curiously at you. "what's with the disappointed tone?"

"what tone?" you rolled your eyes. "this is perfect! i can finally concentrate on my work without having to be afraid that i'll be distracted by heeseung trying to get me to date him again." after a moment, ningning hummed in agreement.

"and! those girls can stop giving me death glares. i mean - i've already seen so many triumphant looks from them, as if they've already got him in the bag."

"uh-huh," she said sceptically.

"they'd definitely say yes if he asked them out. unlike me. he can actually go and date for once, instead of embarrassing himself with me."

"riiiight."

"good. that's good! maybe he'll have a girlfriend by next week. and-"

"okay! i get it, i get it," ningning burst out laughing. "i've never seen you overthink about heeseung this much."

"i can't help it! what would you think if some guy who's been obnoxiously pining over you for years consistently suddenly stopped out of nowhere?"

"hmm... i'd hang out with him, break my leg, therefore obliging him to bring me to the hospital, manipulate him to visit me every day as i recover, be overbearing as hell so that he'd realise he doesn't want me anymore, and poof! he's gone."

you stared at your (possibly insane) best friend (how is she your best friend?!) in alarm.

"...i think it's time for another visit to the psych ward."

"hey!"

you two laughed yourself to stitches. she might be crazy, but she definitely got your mind off heeseung, if only for a little bit.

"you guys don't like sports, do you?"

everyone in the council shook their head.

"well, luckily for you, the student council members aren't be required to participate in sports day. we're only expected to volunteer and help the teachers."

you and the others cheered, relieved you wouldn't have to run yourself to death in the cold wind like last year. you might have been gifted in almost any skill and hobby you picked up, but sports was an exception.

"make sure you do help out, as i'll be taking note of who does what." then, heeseung said in a whisper, as if sharing a secret (who in this room he's hiding it from, you don't know), "and we'll hold a little party here. just us members." that definitely got everyone murmuring excitedly.

in the two previous years you've been in the student council, you've never seen one so lively and reactive to their president. you hate to admit it, but you too could feel your mood lighten up with them whenever heeseung was leading another meeting.

not to mention, he listened intently to the others' concerns, always suggested good solutions, and greeted everyone who entered with a cup of tea. he was a lot more considerate than you'd expected.

see, you hadn't really shared that many classes before. and the one or two you ever did, you avoided him at all costs so you never actually noticed him properly until it was forced right in front of your face.

"on another note, we'd like to take in suggestions for places to visit for an upcoming school trip," you started, garnering their attention.

as you began your part of the meeting, you could feel heeseung's intense stare, but every time you looked at him, he'd turn away.

it was a little frustrating, and you didn't know why. you couldn't figure out why you felt a little more upset every time he'd look somewhere else. was he ignoring you? but, this was a totally normal thing to do, right? so it's not like you could just ask him 'hey, why do you always ignore me when i look at you?', you'd look stupid.

when the meeting ended and everyone else had left, the awkward tension between you two was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

"make sure to lock up before you go-"

"did i do something wrong?"

heeseung stared at you, mouth frozen from being cut off mid-sentence.

"what? no. why?"

"i just- well, you-" you stuttered, unsure how to answer. "i guess, i'm not used to you not..."

"to me not asking you to be my girlfriend?" he laughed, but there was an odd lack of humour.

you shrunk into yourself. you should have just kept your mouth shut, now you sounded self-centered.

"nevermind," you huffed.

"i'm just doing what you asked. after the date, remember?" he left before you could say anything else.

after he'd gone, you couldn't even hear the silence he left behind - not when your thoughts rang in your ears. shame, embarrassment, rage. you hated him, heeseung.

but most of all, you hated yourself.

you avoided heeseung at all costs after that incident, at least, whenever you could.

previously, with the lack of interactions you two had, you felt like you barely ever saw him. but now that there was this weird air of tension between you, seeing him at three times a week after school for student council activities suddenly felt too often. every time you were alone with him, you were sure you were as red as a tomato; you developed a habit of letting your hair hide your red ears and hide your face.

when sports day inevitably came, you took over his responsibilities, seeing as he was still a part of the volleyball team. that made him the only one in the student council to join any sports activity, whereas the rest of you relaxed. (the privilege was all thanks to heeseung, who advocated for your guys' exemption from activities after everyone had complained, in return for volunteer work.)

"you haven't gone to the volleyball games yet?" soobin, the treasurer, asked.

"no. i planned out a route to visit all the activities, and the courts happened to be last."

he raised a sceptical eyebrow at you.

"really. it's not because you're trying to steer clear of our dear president or something?"

you cringed. "keep your nose out of our business."

"well, if it's affecting student council activities, isn't it our business too?"

"maybe, but i think your priority should be helping out mrs. shin over there," you pointed to the teacher walking across the field, carrying a bunch of equipment by herself. "'looks pretty heavy, it would look bad if our volunteer wasn't doing his work, now would it?"

soobin gave you a dirty look before leaving to help out, but not before bidding you "good luck!"

when you finally made it to the volleyball courts, you spotted him immediately.

he'd done a spike, the slap echoing so loud that it drew the attention of other students passing by. paired with the sound of feet skidding against the ground and the thumps of balls making contact with skin, you decided that you hated the courts. it felt like walking into a battle zone - always fearing you'll get hit by a ball when you're not looking. once, ningning got hit in the face by a baseball and her eye had actually been pushed inwards into her socket. of course, that wasn't on a court, but you weren't taking your chances.

unfortunately, you still had to make sure everything was going smoothly and take note of how many more rounds were left.

"excuse me! students who aren't playing aren't allowed to step into the courts," the teacher yelled at you from the other side.

"sorry, but i have to check on you guys, i'm part of the student council," you explained as you crept closer.

"but-"

"my bad, mr. jeon. i forgot to tell you to expect our vice president to come around eventually, since she's taking over my duties for the day," heeseung said as came jogging up to you two.

"ah, really? was volleyball taking up your time? you should have told me! i wouldn't want this to get in the way of your work."

"no, it's okay. i wanted to play, and she's very reliable," he gestured to you.

"if you say so."

"right," you started, finally looking at heeseung for the first time that day. you nodded your thanks to him, to which he gave a quick thumbs up to before rejoining the game.

"how many sets are left?" you asked mr. jeon, pulling out your pen to note down on your clipboard.

"two. this is our final game of the day."

"great! who won for the girl's team earlier today? i'm sorry i couldn't come earlier. i thought it might be best to come later in the day so i could get all the results at once."

"don't worry about it. the boys' games are always more interesting anyway - in the sense that it's a little more dramatic, what with all the force they put in their hits."

right at that moment, the resounding boom of the ball hitting a wall interrupted you two. geez, were these guys playing with a ball or setting off canons? why men are so aggressive, you'll never understand.

"perfect timing," mr. jeon chuckled. "well anyway, the U-16 girls won the first game, but the U-19 team won the second-"

you should have minded the ongoing game. it was the number one rule when you were on a court, but you foolishly got distracted with mr. jeon's own clipboard. of course, the moment you let your guard down, the ball flew your way, right when you were shifting your stance and was therefore a little more unstable than usual.

the volleyball hit you right in the chest, and had you falling to the ground. by instinct, you tried to catch yourself - but instead of your palms reaching out backwards to save you, it was your elbows that hit the ground.

"fuck!" you cried at the pain that seared through your arm.

"oh my god, are you alright?" the team suddenly ran up to you, with mr. jeon himself trying to help you up.

"i'm so sorry! i didn't mean to." one of the team members apologised.

"watch it next time," heeseung's stern voice came, but you were more focused on trying to minimise the pain as much as possible.

"where does it hurt? your elbow? can you try moving it for me?"

you did as mr. jeon instructed, but underestimated how much it would hurt.

"oh, that popping sound does not sound normal," heeseung commented.

"heeseung, take her to the infirmary."

he nodded and grabbed your unaffected elbow, asking if it was okay. you nodded and followed him as he started leading the way to the school nurse.

"does it still hurt?"

"if i move it, yeah."

"sorry about that."

"it's fine. it happens." a quick silence followed.

"well, you should go to the doctor later. the nurse probably won't do much, maybe just hand you an ice pack or something else useless," he joked. you laughed.

"yeah. she never really does much, does she? all those years of school just to hand us ice packs for a broken bone or twisted ankle."

"right! even the PE department is better equipped for more serious injuries."

"mhm."

another bout of silence. you were going to go crazy, either from the awkwardness of it all or the immense pain in your right arm. you looked at heeseung's back, and the sweat on his skin, soaking his shirt.

"hey, you can go back if you want to," you told him suddenly. "i can walk myself to the infirmary, it's not like i hurt my leg or anything."

"i know, but i'd feel more at ease if i saw you there myself. you're my vice president, of course i'm concerned."

well, you didn't know how to feel about that. you've been downgraded from his crush to coworker, but he still cares for you. so maybe that was a plus?

"i see."

as expected, you were given a cold pack for your elbow and sent to the local hospital. luckily, it was only a ten minute drive and the nurse accompanied you as a staff member drove you two there. heeseung watched you get in the car and leave, going back to his game.

the next time you went to school (two days later), your right arm was in a sling and you pretended like that wasn’t just the most embarrassing moment of your life.

“you’re ambidextrous?” heeseung whispered to you while everyone else was focused on the movie projected.

the council had waited for you to return before they held their (secret) party, since it just felt wrong to hold one when their vice president was suffering in pain and away. up until now, heeseung had only known you used your right hand from all those meetings.

he'd been paying attention to that?

“i’m a better writer with my right.”

“but you can still write well with your left,” he said, impressed. “you really are amazing”

you stared at him, the look of awe on his face, and the slight smile of his mouth. you really had no idea what to say, flustered by his comment.

then he seemed to realise what he was doing, and quickly turned to back to the movie.

“my mom wanted a left-handed daughter, and would always switch the pencil to my left hand when i was younger,” you told him. you had the sudden urge to spill a bit more of your life to him.

“ah, really?” he replied, still looking the other way.

“yeah, but at that point i was already used to my right. i ended up being able to write with both hands though.”

“oh, you can do that?” soobin joined in the conversation. you nodded at him with wide eyes, not expecting the sudden interruption.

“do what?” hanni asked.

“she can write using both her hands. isn’t she so cool?”

“really?” she gasped, looking at the pen in your left hand. “wow. our vice president is way cooler than the president himself.”

“hey!” heeseung exclaimed as everyone giggled.

“seriously though, she’s the whole package. smart, talented, and pretty?” soobin lowered his voice in a mock-whisper, “i can treat you way better than this guy," he joked, pointing his thumb at heeseung.

“alright, i think we need to get a new treasurer,” heeseung suddenly said. he pointed at the projection and yelled, “look! ernesto's actually the villain!” this successfully put everyone's attention back on the movie, all shocked by the plot twist. (you already knew, because coco was your favourite airplane movie.)

when the party finished up, heeseung actually stayed behind this time, and helped you clean up.

“oh, you really don’t have to,” you told him.

“it’s fine, it’s quicker like this. it’s not fair to make you clean up when you don’t have two working hands.”

you watched as he put away the heavy binders and throw out the trash, feeling a little off-put by the new scene. you thought that maybe you should just go home and leave him to lock up, but he wasn’t saying anything, so you stayed and kept him company. his presence was surprisingly comforting.

“you have the keys?”

“yeah,” you answered, trying to open your backpack.

heeseung made his way over and opened your bag for you. “here, i’ll get it. tell me where it is.”

“oh, uhhh in the pocket there. the left one.”

he found the keys and took them before closing the bag again. he waited for you to put it back on, but noticed you struggling a little with the books in your arm.

“why don’t you just put these in your bag?” he asked, taking them from your good arm and helping you slip your injured one through a strap.

“it’ll be really heavy if i do.” you then thanked him, gesturing for him to give back your textbooks.

instead, he kept them, even holding the door open and waiting for you to pass by first.

“where do you live? i’ll try to help you bring these home.”

“you really-”

“it’s fine, i promise. in fact, i insist.” at your expression, he added, “what kind of president would i be if i didn’t help out my vice?”

right. president. and vice president. not friends, not even classmates. just coworkers.

you rolled your eyes and let him help you. “i usually take the bus home. the one that goes to the museum.”

“ah, i know that one. i usually walk home, but i think there’s a stop that bus goes to that’s near my house. so let’s go.”

heeseung led the way, walking in front of you so you took the chance to observe him from behind.

recently, you noticed that although he always looked put together and clean at the beginning of the day, his hair and clothes felt more loose and casual towards the end of the day - particularly on the longer days where there were council meetings after school. you like this version of him; you feel closer to this heeseung, because it’s a side that only you (and the other members) got to see. it felt a little bit like a secret.

“sorry, looks like my stop is earlier than yours. are you fine with carrying these yourself from here?”

“yep.”

“alright. well then, okay.” when he stood up as the bus stopped, he turned to you and waved lightly. “bye bye!” it was a little endearing - the way he'd said it.

“see you.”

you immediately flopped onto your bed when you reached home (on your back side, of course). it was an… odd day, but you didn’t dislike it.

after a bit of a struggle, you finally fished your phone from your bag, sending ningning a message.

“i think you took my advice too seriously,” ningning chortled during class the next day. “when i said i’d break my leg i didn’t mean actually getting injured!”

you dragged your hand down your face, asking whatever being was listening to your pleas to make your best friend stop teasing you.

“it’s not like i sprained my elbow on purpose??”

“oh girl, you don’t have a single athletic bone do you?”

“you know what, maybe i need to learn to shut up and stop telling you things.”

“i know you won’t. when you’re with me, your attempt at a mysterious persona disappears…”

“are you saying i’m loud?” you ask in mock-offense.

“i’m saying you yap a lot,” she rolls her eyes playfully. “but seriously, who knew getting hit by a volleyball would lead you and The Heeseung finally talk. maybe that guy should’ve thrown one at you when we were fourteen.”

“when did you start rooting for him?” you raised an eyebrow at her.

“i just thought he deserved a chance,” she shrugged nonchalantly, but the way she turned away didn’t sit right with you.

“oh, okay,” was all you came up with.

“so, anyway,” she started again after a moment. “i stalked my ex’s spotify and-”

“oh my god,” you groaned at the mention of her ex. “ningning i told you before, you need to forget about him.”

“i know, i know. but i couldn’t help it! his user was just there on the side, and he was listening to memories!! by conan gray!! i had to see what playlist he was listening to.”

“you need to block his spotify.”

“but that’s so embarrassing. it’s never that deep.”

“if you can’t move on from someone who convinced you that you were nothing without him, then maybe it is that deep.”

ningning sighed. “okay, i’ll block him. but do you want to know what his latest playlist was about?”

“duh,” you laughed as ningning pulled out her phone, promising to block him after.

heeseung continued to help you on the way home every time you guys had a meeting, to your surprise. during those bus rides home, you learned way more about the boy in three weeks than you ever had in your three and a half years of knowing each other. you wondered what had made him like you so much before this if he never even really knew you.

“but i did,” he said. “i did know you.”

“did you really?” you asked, thinking he was joking.

“well, at first, i obviously didn’t. i just thought you were pretty, and fun to annoy. so i kept asking you out just to see your response. after that, i did begin to like you - on a superficial level, of course; i was fifteen!”

you listened intently, finally getting answers to a question you didn’t realise you’d been curious about for so long yourself. heeseung didn’t look at you at all during his monologue, but straight forward instead. so you were able to observe the way the gold light from the sun highlighted his features perfectly. (did he always have such a perfect nose?)

“and then there was a time where i just got tired of it. i wanted to stop, but then everyone would have thought it was out of character. so even though i didn’t even like you anymore - in fact, i hated you, i still kept asking you out. just for show. stupid, right?

“but then, one time, i accidentally ran into you at a shop with ningning. actually, more like i saw you and hid behind one of the aisles. but i heard you say you wanted to get something for your siblings too, and i was like, ‘wow, she actually cares about others?’ back then, i was convinced you only thought about yourself.

“another time, you posted one of your competition wins on your instagram, and i could see from the caption how much you adored your team, even tagging each one of them and thanking them individually. i had never seen someone put that much effort into a simple win before. i kind of felt like i wasn’t thankful enough to my own volleyball team,” he chuckled to himself.

“what really had me falling for you though was when you tutored my sister last year . before that, she'd been going through some sort of mental struggle, what with being bullied at school and coming home to our parents telling her she should be ashamed of her grades. i felt so bad that i couldn’t do anything, you know? her older brother; her protector, but couldn’t do anything against the very people who should have been protecting the both of us. when she’d been signed up with you though, she came home for the first time in a good mood - she was humming! and i asked if something good happened at school, and she told me all about her amazing tutor that assured her she wasn’t the useless being she thought she was. how she was finally beginning to understand school for once, and looked forward to your sessions. when i learned that was you, i wanted so surprised, but so grateful."

you had never felt so touched until now. somehow, heeseung’s words made you feel like you really were worth more than you believed.

“really? wait, who’s your sister?”

“lee haseul. the one with autism, remember?”

“ah yes, of course i do!” you said, the name ringing a bell in your head. “she was definitely a little harder to tutor, but once we found a way to use her fixation on cars and link it to what we were learning, it was smooth sailing from there.”

“i really have no idea how you did that, but you have no idea the impact that had on me and my family. sometimes she asks me what it’s like working with you,” he finally turned to look at you, a pretty smile on his face. your face burned at the adoration on his face, looking away yourself.

“i hope you tell her good things about me.”

“there’s not a bad thing to say.”

“really?”

“really.”

when heeseung left the bus that day, a part of him still stayed with you, as words that constantly replayed in your mind.

it made you feel a little self-conscious, knowing that he’d been watching you this closely all this time. you felt like your efforts were appreciated, and that they weren’t for nothing after all. while your admiration of him only begun after really seeing him work on the council, his respect for you had been brewing for way longer.

you went to bed thinking about him way more than you usually did (and you’ve been thinking about him more often since you sprained your elbow). you found yourself a little more excited for the next meeting day, when he’d go home with you again.

what would you guys talk about? will he tell you more of his thoughts? maybe his other interests? should you ask about his team and work? how was he handling all that? or perhaps you should ask about his sister. anything, really. you just wanted to talk. to him.

oh no, you sounded like a typical high school girl with a crush just now, didn’t you? (well, that’s exactly what you are - no shame in that, though!) if your arm wasn’t injured, you would have been punching your pillow and screaming into it right now.

oh, right - the elbow. for the first time, you really didn’t want it to heal. you wanted it to stay sprained for as long as possible, but that would be stupid, and inconvenient. but then, how else would you talk to heeseung outside of council work? it’s not like you two shared any classes, nor did you run in the same circles at school. the bus rides home were really the only times you got to really talk to heeseung, without all the eyes watching you two.

a small part of you began to dread the day your cast came off, because that would mean heeseung would stop talking to you again, right? he wouldn’t have any reason to riding home with you, and it would go back to that awkward thing you two had.

you sigh and turn over, careful with your arm, and finally fall into a fitful sleep.

“you’re staring at him again.”

that sentence had you flinching away and turning back to ningning, looking at you with a knowing glint.

“i can’t help it! his hair just looks so messy, obviously i’m going to notice.”

“his hair looks the same way it always does…”

“well- look at him walking around like he owns the place! he thinks he’s the shit, doesn’t he?”

“to be fair, he’s the student body president and captain of the volleyball team. maybe he is.”

“why are you defending him?!” you cried at all her replies.

“why are you trying to hard to hate him! we both know how much you li-”

“okay, okay, shhhh,” you shut her up by covering her mouth. really, she needed to learn to shut up. it’s not like the whole world needed to know about your massive crush on the boy you previously hated.

ningning pushed your hands away. “why are you more fixated on him today than usual anyway?”

"okay, first of all," you scoffed at her. "you make it sound like i'm always fixated on him."

"you are."

you rolled your eyes, then bit your lip after a moment of thought, knowing that whatever you were about to say would sound stupid(ly in love).

“it’s just that, i finally got my cast off this past weekend, so i can carry my books home perfectly fine again.”

“ah, and so he won’t be escorting you home anymore like he had been these past five weeks,” ningning finished your train of thought.

you buried your face in your arms, flushing bright red. “god, i sound like an idiot. i hate that i even thought that.”

the girl laughed at you, but patted your back consolingly.

“don’t worry about it. i don’t think heeseung’s gonna stop taking the bus with you just because you’re healed now. trust me, he’s one of the caring people i know.” was that a bit of sadness and longing? maybe you were interpreting her tone wrong.

“he probably will! it’s not like he used to take the bus home before i got hurt.” you peeked up at her. “is it wrong to ask you to throw another ball at me?”

“girl…”

when that day’s meeting finally ended, you and heeseung worked in tandem, tidying up the room before locking up, albeit a little more slowly. it was like both of you were waiting for something, but never said it out loud,

as you finally made your way out the school, you and heeseung turned to each other, hoping the other would say something.

“well-” heeseung started at the same time you said, “are you-”

after a brief moment of awkward silence, you guys burst into soft laughter at the silliness of the situation. what were you so afraid of anyway?

“do you still want to ride with me?” you finally asked him.

“if that’s okay with you.”

“of course it is,” you rolled your eyes playfully, falling into step with him.

“honestly, i thought you were going to go back to walking home after i healed up,” you confessed to him on the bus. “it made me kind of sad.”

“you’d miss me?” he teased, but there was excitement in his tone. he was elated.

“well, these rides are kind of fun! i wish i got to know you like this sooner. and then i thought we’d go back to the way we were before after this, but ningning assured me that it’d be fine.”

“ah yeah, ningning’s cool. wish i had a close friend like her by my side.”

it didn’t click until now how they seemed to be familiar with each other. when did heeseung and ningning become friends? in fact, when did they get a chance to even talk to each other?

“are you friends with her?” you tried to ask nonchalantly, like the topic wasn’t bugging you now. if those two were friends, why didn’t ningning mention it to you?

heeseung seemed to notice the shift in your mood though. “we’re just friends, promise. there’s nothing between us.”

that eased you a little, but that wasn’t really your main concern.

“that’s nice to know. but how did you become friends? i thought you two were was close as me and you were before all this.”

“oh! we met up at summer camp. it was purely by coincidence; my parents decided to send me to one last summer, and she happened to be there. i didn’t know anyone else, so i stuck by her for most of the two weeks we were there. we got to know each other then.”

ningning’s summer camp. last summer had been her third year there, so she wasn’t new or anything. the programme usually lasted two weeks, and they’d take away their phones during that time, so you’d have no contact with her until it ended.

but you’re surprised she didn’t tell you about it when she came back. after all, she had said it was ‘just as usual’, but seeing the new face of your best friend’s (previously) most hated person didn’t seem like nothing.

“huh.”

“i swear though, there was nothing between us back then.”

“i see.”

“i hadn’t talked to her much after my date with you-”

the date. ningning had been the one to push you to go. but why? even if her and heeseung became friends during camp, you and her were still closer. so why did she switch sides? you’d thought it was odd how she was suddenly encouraging you to say yes, when she’d spent the last four years sticking her tongue out at heeseung by your side.

the date, which had gone both so bad and yet so good. when everything had gone terribly wrong, but heeseung did everything right.

“i’m so sorry for being late!” heeseung panted as he ran up to your table.

“the one time i give you a chance, and you’re an hour late, lee.”

“i know, i know. it’s just that my sister-”

“i’m not hearing out any excuses,” you huffed.

you’d felt so humiliated waiting for him. you were shaking, your hair was frizzy with stress and your make up probably a little smudged too. the staff had even given you a free cheesecake slice out of pity. a pity cake.

“whatever, you’re here now, so let’s get this over with”

the waitress came over and gave you an encouraging look (which you ignored) and took your orders. when your meals arrived, you stared at the orange slices in the sauce of your orange chicken. although you hated them, you actually loved the sauce and chicken itself, so you ordered them every time you went to a chinese restaurant.

“you don’t like the oranges?” heeseung asked after seeing you pick them out.

“not really, no. i don’t know how to explain it; i love orange chicken, but i hate actually seeing the oranges on the sauce. it’s a little bit jarring for me, fruits and savoury foods together just don’t make sense to me visually, but when i taste them, they’re so good. just like pineapples on pizza, you get me?”

“i guess,” he thinks out loud. he uses his own chopsticks and starts picking them out from your plate, placing them onto his. “mind if i take these then? i love oranges.”

“i’ve literally seen you throw out a whole orange at school before.”

“you were watching?” he smiled sheepishly, a light pink tint to his cheeks.

“n-not particularly.” you look back down at your food, focusing on your task. you need to be more careful with what you say.

after a terrible start to your date, the rest of your lunch went okay. it wasn’t too bad, and you two started discussing your next plan: watching a movie.

“i’m not even a marvel fan,” you told heeseung after he said he’d gotten two tickets for spiderman: no way home.

“don’t worry, i’ll explain everything to you during the movie.”

“really? also, isn’t a movie a terrible date idea? we wouldn’t really talk to each other.”

“well, i will. i tend to talk a lot during movies.” he turned to you with an apologetic look. “i hope you won’t mind.”

“i’ll need it, won’t i?”

turns out you didn’t need his talking during the movie because you two didn't even get to watch it. a kitchen in the food court next to the theatre had gone up in flames, with the fire spreading to it’s surroundings. thankfully, no one died, but the damage was pretty severe, with half the mall having to close down until reparations are finished. and who knows how long that’ll take…

“oh! well, it’s a good thing i was a little late then, right?” heeseung tried to lighten up this messy date as you two passed by the mall which was now in ashes.

“i guess,” you mumbled. “so what now?”

“well, how about a little bowling?” he suggested.

you nodded, and he drove you two to the local bowling alley. you hadn't done it since you were eight, so heeseung showed you how to do it on your first turn.

“swing your arm like this,” he said, holding onto your bicep and holding onto the ball for you.

“you can let go, you know. i can carry the weight, it’s only the small size after all.”

“i know, but it’s just for demonstration. i’m going to let go of the ball now, okay? make sure to hold tightly,” he looked at you intently. geez, how could someone telling you to hold a bowling ball look at you like you hung the stars?

well, you didn’t really need his help anyway. your instincts kicked in and you managed to hit nine pins all together on your first, with similar numbers for the rest of the rounds. you even got a strike twice!

“are you sure you’ve never bowled before?” heeseung chuckled in awe.

“positive.”

“it always surprises me how easily you pick up things.”

“…thanks.”

and then you hit very few pins every single round after that in the second game.

you hadn’t been able to finish your second game however, because a heavy downpour suddenly came down.

“oh my god, the water is rising so fast,” you called over to heeseung as you looked out the glass doors of the main exit. if the floor hadn’t been lifted, the water would have started flowing in by now.

“crap, should we go home before it gets worse?”

“i suggest you should, kids,” the man behind the counter gruffed. he himself was getting ready to go, with the other customers running outside to their own cars.

heeseung looked outside and then at you.

“you can’t walk outside in those shoes, they’ll get wet.”

you were wearing pointy slip ons that would definitely get wet and soaked if you took a step outside, but it’s not like you had a choice.

“it’s alright, let’s just go-woah!”

heeseung picked you up bridal style and started making his way to his car, going fast but careful not to slip.

“hey! let me down!”

“no way, we’re almost there.”

you tried to fight him off, but he just held tightly until you reached the car, and he gently set you down into the passenger seat before backing out of the parking lot.

“are you crazy?”

“are you?” he retorted. “like hell i’m letting you get all soaked on our first date.”

you wheezed. “this date was so unlucky. who imagined everything that happened could’ve happened.”

“i know! and i wanted to make a good impression so bad. it’s like the world is against me,” he whined.

as you finally reached the front of your apartment complex, heeseung turned to you one last time.

“i’m sorry for everything that went wrong. please let me make it up to you.” he sucked in a breath, and you realised what he was going to say just a moment before he did.

“will you let me take you out on another date?”

yes. absolutely. this was fun. it was terrible, but i had a great time. wait, is this him asking me to be his girlfriend? i should ask. if he says yes, would i say yes? i don’t know, i don’t know him that well. i’ve only really only talked to him today. today’s date. everything went wrong. what if that was a sign? if i say yes, will all our dates just keep going to shit? no way, today was just an anomaly. we’ll be fine. but then when i go back to school, everyone will know. they’ll all look at me like they knew this would happen. they’ll clap him on the back and whoop in the halls, that’ll be so embarrassing. i hate that. maybe i should say no. but he was so sweet. it’s not his fault. but i wouldn’t be able to handle the attention. maybe i should-

“oh… i see.”

you looked up at him in confusion. but he wasn’t looking at you anymore. just straight ahead.

had you said something out loud? your thoughts were running wild, and you really couldn’t make up your mind.

“okay, well. have a good night,” heeseung said. when did he make his way to your door? even through the heartbreak clearly displayed in his voice, he still went out and opened the door for you. or maybe he was kicking you out of his car. was ningning right? had he thought you were undateable?

too much. too much was happening; so much happened today that you couldn’t form an answer. heeseung took your silence as a no (or did you actually say no? out of instinct?), which made your mind even more befuddled. you weren’t sure if you were even forming a coherent thought.

“oh, okay.”

you somehow made it out of the car and to the entrance of the apartment. turning back, you found heeseung’s car still there, with him watching you. you gave a weak wave, one he didn’t return, and punched in your house number.

at the last moment, you wanted to say something. anything, you didn’t know what. but when you around back to him again, he was gone.

you didn’t sleep at all that night. or maybe you did? you couldn’t tell. you’d been so worried over that last moment with heeseung, and had replayed it so many times in your head.

eventually, you convinced yourself that things were fine. that maybe you just imagined it. maybe it wasn’t that bad, and things would go back to normal at school.

definitely. he’ll definitely get back to his shenanigans when school started up again. there wasn’t some sort of finality in his tone - no you just imagined it.

you were wrong.

“why didn’t you tell me you met heeseung at summer camp?”

“how’d you-”

“he told me.” you looked at ningning intently. “but it should have been you.”

“i just- i didn’t think it was worth mentioning! you hated the guy, and it’s not like him being there would have affected you in any way,” she defended herself.

“sure, but i would have appreciated hearing it from you. you knew i’ve had a crush on him for months now, and you could have mentioned it to me?? summer camp was in july; it’s already march for fuck’s sake!”

“i wanted to! i just couldn’t find the right time. you were always busy with student council stuff, and whenever you were free you always talked about heeseung,” he huffed exasperatedly. “how was i supposed to just go, ‘by the way, your crush paid me to set you guys up!’”

your head snapped towards her.

“what?”

“what do you mean wh-” when ningning saw the look on your face, she slapped her hands over her mouth. “you didn’t know about that part...”

“no. i didn’t,” you seethed. “well, i’m glad i got to hear at least something from you.”

you stormed out, ignoring ningning’s pleas of ‘wait! hear me out!’

a fool, that’s what you were. somehow, ningning’s behaviour was even more clear. your best friend had been paid to convince you to say yes. who would have thought she was easily swayed by a few bucks?

and to think that heeseung was really that desperate to take you on a date, going so far as to pay someone close to you to get you to agree? wow, he really was a grade A asshole. sports day had just been topped by ‘being played by my own best friend and crush’ on your list of most embarrassing moments.

speed walking through the halls, you couldn’t stand to look at the pictures of you and heeseung’s faces on the student council board. it hurt so bad, that your feelings could just be easily bought. that someone you considered as family could sell you out like this. that the guy you’d fallen for would go to this length to ‘get you’.

at the bus stop, you saw the man himself smile brightly at you and wave, like he didn’t pay your best friend to get you to go in a date with him. one thing that never fails to amaze you is the audacity of men.

was it all a lie? was his kind-hearted and caring personality all fake? just another thing he did to get your attention? did you truly know heeseung like you thought? or just the 'heeseung' he wanted you to see?

you pointedly looked away, and decided to go home by foot. it was twenty minutes away by walking, but that was enough time for you to at least calm down a little and think about it more. sort out your mind.

you ended up skipping the rest of the week, convincing your parents you were sick (by putting a hot pack on your face and neck before they checked). otherwise, you might have actually broken down right then at school if you saw either heeseung or ningning.

"is everything okay?" soobin asked one day.

"yeah! everything's fine," you said cheerily. "why do you ask?"

"well, it's just that you've been sitting with us instead of ningning."

looking at soobin and his friends, you finally noticed the slight awkward air in the group because of your presence. to be fair, you weren't really close with them to begin with. or anyone. you spent most of your lunch breaks with ningning, but now that you've refused to talk to her for the last two weeks, you've been floating between different groups. sometimes, you even spent lunch in the toilets or the student council room.

but who else could you spend it with? you weren't ready to face ningning yet, and it was already hard enough tolerating heeseung during meetings. you didn't miss the worried looks from him, and he's tried to talk to you several times (which you always declined).

a sigh escapes you, and you massage your forehead. obviously, you needed to confront them both eventually. but not right now. whatever the answer is, you don't think you'd be able to handle it right now.

"do you want to talk about it?" soobin asked, a low volume only for you to hear.

"maybe later," you admitted. it would be a good idea to tell an outsider all of this, especially to soobin, who's always been a great advice-giver.

"there won't be a meeting this friday; seniors are having a rehearsal for the graduation ceremony then. the school wanted to have one before finals started," heeseung told the council. he looked around and asked, "anything else?" at everyone's silence, he nodded and closed the meeting. everyone bid their goodbyes and left, except soobin.

heeseung stared at you with anticipation and uncertainty. he'd given up on asking you to talk for a while now, but still waited for you to act first. he understood that you'd come to him when you were ready.

you looked up at soobin, looking at you with a similar expression, but one that had more curiousity and less anxiety.

"let's go?" he asked. you nodded and followed him out, leaving heeseung to lock up on his own.

you started doing that ever since The Incident. of course, you didn't leave all the clean up work to him, but you rushed your own responsibilities to minimise as much time you had to spend with him as possible.

"seriously?"

you and soobin turned back, finding the voice belonging to heeseung. he was standing outside the student council room, looking at you two, fuming. you could practically see the steam coming out his ears.

"you ignore and shun me away, refusing to talk about this issue between us, but talk to soobin about it instead? why are you dragging him into this??"

you rolled your eyes and turned to him fully, blood boiling. "i'm not 'dragging him into this'. i just wanted to talk to someone, is that so wrong?" you retorted.

"yes! you seriously think getting soobin's opinion is gonna help?"

"am i not allowed to talk to him now? are you going to pay him to stop talking to me too?"

"god, i know it was wrong of me, okay?! i'm sorry, it was shitty of me."

"your apology isn't going to suddenly make everything better. it won't take back what you did."

"i know. but please, talk to me. it's driving me crazy, how you go about acting normal with everyone but me. this whole year, did you not feel anything for me at all? do you really hate me?" he asked, his voice cracking at the end. "if you do, tell me now. so i can finally move on."

you stared at the boy, and the way the late afternoon sunlight hit him from behind. you could barely make out his expression, but maybe that was for the better. you probably wouldn't have been able to turn away and stand your ground if you saw the look on his face.

"you can't say that. not when you were the one who put yourself in this situation. did you think i would never find out? that you bribed my best friend into setting me up with you?" you heard soobin's surprised gasp on the side.

although you had your back to heeseung, you could still imagine what he looked like. the scene broke your heart, but not as much as it did when you found out that ningning had even agreed to such a thing.

after it was clear he wasn't going to reply, you started walking away, with soobin tailing you.

"wow... so that's what happened," was the first thing he said after a few minutes of silence.

"yeah."

"what a dick move."

"right."

you sighed, the adrenaline leaving you and now realising how loud you two had been. there weren't many students left at school, but a teacher or two probably heard the commotion. you'll be the hot topic of the staff lounge room for sure.

when you finally explained it all to soobin, he was quiet for a moment, thoughtful.

"i honestly never expected this from heeseung. it just- it doesn't seem like him."

"that's what i thought too. a little part of me wishes it's all some misunderstanding, but i don't know how it could be twisted any other way."

soobin hummed in agreement. "but, i noticed one thing from all of this though: you still call ningning your best friend," he pointed out. "despite everything, you've already forgiven her. or at least, you've begun to."

you bit your lip, realising he was right. you were beginning to accept it. she seemed genuinely sorry, and you could never hate her forever.

"it's just that - after getting to know heeseung, i felt like a terrible person for not giving him a chance. for always turning him down harshly. maybe i drove him to bribe ningning, maybe she got fed up with me too. i couldn't help but feel guilty for causing both of them to act like this.

"and i know this sounds wrong... but somehow, i felt a little relieved that i wasn't the only person in the wrong. that i wasn't the only asshole in this story - isn't that such a twisted thought?"

soobin melted when he saw your face, and pulled you in for a hug.

"of course not. it's alright to feel like this, you know? it's what makes us human, and what are humans without complicated feelings?"

and just like that, a dam was broken. you didn't realise how much you needed to hear those words until he said them.

it wasn't until may that you finally mustered up the courage to finally talk to ningning, and it seemed she had the same idea too.

"please, can we talk?" she asked at the same time you called her name.

"i was just about to ask the same thing."

once you two found an empty classroom, ningning started immediately.

"listen," she called for your attention. "i'm so sorry. you have no idea how many times i want to say it; i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry. it was such a light offer, really. i didn't realise the meaning it would have in the moment."

"what do you mean, a 'light offer'?"

"during camp, i had bought heeseung's sister some ice cream because she was being left out by the other kids. it was only like two dollars, but heeseung insisted on repaying. but the smallest bill he had was a five, so obviously i refused. but he kept asking me to take it and i told him that if i took it, i'd be the one in debt to him instead. so he made a light-hearted joke about getting you to go on a date with him, so that there'd be no hard feelings between us." she looked up at you pleadingly. "we'd been joking around, i didn't even realise the reality of his question. but when i got back from camp, i didn't think you'd actually go on one with him."

"you kept bringing it up; i trusted your opinion."

"i did, but i didn't really mean it. i was hoping you'd continue to say no, and i could just tell him something like 'sorry, i tried. here's your three dollars back.'"

"you didn't mean it?" you prodded.

ningning looked down at her hands and sighed. you could tell something was weighing on her.

"the truth is... i ended up catching feelings for heeseung. you know how i'd just broken up with my ex recently."

you thought back to her ex, who had isolated ningning from you and her other friends. how she'd come to school covered up even in the heat. the way she'd lost a worrying amount of weight. in all honesty, you should have tried to pry more; to break her out of this toxic relationship. but instead, you told yourself that there wasn't anything you could do, and left her to deal with the abuse on her own.

the guilt ate you, but you distracted yourself with work (and heeseung). god, you're so self-centred, aren't you?

"oh yeah, i remember very well."

"exactly," she says, hearing the loathing in your voice. "heeseung was the first person to show me genuine kindness after that whole affair. and so i found myself watching him over those two weeks, falling for him. and i thought to myself: if you didn't want him, then could i? i feel like the worst person ever, how could i even think that?"

her voice broke at the end, and you could see her silently crying; tears poured down her face but her sobs were inaudible. you'd noticed it was a habit she formed after getting with her ex. she'd never cried much before him, but she used to cry as loudly as you. you placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"it's okay. you're not the only one with shitty thoughts."

her wide eyes peered up at you, sparkling with tears. she wrapped her arms around you, and you reciprocated the embrace.

the way she'd hiccuped and the wet spot you could feel forming on your shirt yet the silent sobs broke your own heart, and you had to force your own tears down.

"i'm sorry too. i was too absorbed in my own life that i didn't pay enough attention to the way you were breaking. i mean, how did i not notice anything all this time?"

you wondered if her smile had ever wavered when she was with you, if she had to fake a laugh, or even force herself to talk to you this past year. dealing with her own problems on her own, while you vented to her yours. if she had, you didn't notice (someone give you a 'best friend of the year' award right now!).

as much as you wanted to hate her for liking heeseung, you didn't. you understood her feelings, especially after getting to know the boy himself. he brought a sense of safety with him wherever he went - so how could you ever hate your best friend for needing that security when no one else offered it to her?

"wait, can i ask you something?" you asked. ningning slipped from the embrace, nodding.

"if you liked heeseung, then why did you still ask me to accept his date offers? you could have just kept it from me, and told him that i said no. was it really just because of the three dollar 'debt'?"

"ah, right. well, when he'd asked me to get you to go on a date with me, it reminded me just how much he liked you. i don't think he'd ever see me the same way, not when his sights are so fixed on you. and after getting a taste of his hospitality, i felt that you deserved it too. that not only did he deserve a chance, but so did you.

"i realised that you needed someone like him. i couldn't give you the care and support he could, not when i'm too absorbed by my own problems. and i knew you were feeling guilty, and heeseung was the only one who could really understand you."

oh, you really were going to either jump off a cliff or hug her so tight her eyeballs might pop out. even when you neglected, she still thought about you through it all. heeseung was wrong, he made you out to be this caring person who thought of others, but that person was really ningning.

"but, what about you? you need care and support too."

"it wouldn't work out between us, he's not the kind of person i want. he was just the first kind person in a while. i need to heal and learn to be more independent myself."

a quiet moment followed, with the both of you lost in your thoughts and emotions. you hadn't felt this lonely in so long, and a weight had finally been lifted from your shoulders.

"so what are you going to do? have you talked to heeseung yet?"

"no, not yet. but he's waited four years now, he can wait a little longer. i just want to spend time with my best friend right now."

'a little longer' ended up being another month. when finals started, the school let the older years off on study leave to focus on exams. so you didn't end up seeing heeseung until the final graduation rehearsal.

as president and vice president, you two were expected to perform a speech and be next to each other the whole ceremony. so you decided it was the perfect time to confront him then.

"heeseung, wait," you called, grabbing onto his wrist as he walked by.

he immediately paused in his tracks, whipping around to look at you with wide eyes, surprised you'd finally decided to talk to him. you glanced at his friends behind him, all with a mix of curious and knowing looks.

"oh, uh, you guys can go ahead," he told them, and they left you two alone.

"i made up with ningning..." you told him.

"i see! that- that's good. im happy you guys did."

"...and i'm sorry. for making a big deal out of nothing. for making you wait so long. you're seriously one of the sweetest people i've ever met. you didn't deserve that."

heeseung shook his head in protest. "no, don't say that. i'd wait for you as long as you want, even if you never accept me. and it was a big deal. i'm guessing she told you?" you nodded. "it was fucked up of me to even make a joke like that. in fact, it was worse than if it was a genuine deal. and i can't just buy your love with three dollars, you're worth more than that." you tried to say something, but heeseung continued.

"i screwed up, i know. but i never lied to you. if there's one thing i've always been sure of, it was loving you. don't you ever feel like you have to love me back though, it's not something you can force. but i'll always have your back. no matter how many fights, how many fuck-ups, or if i ever lose my feelings for you - which might never happen. you can always fall back on me for support."

your eyes watered at his sincerity, feeling unworthy of his kindness.

"i don't deserve that though. ningning does."

"you both do. listen to me," he said, grabbing onto your shoulders and forcing you to look up at him. "don't you ever dare say that you're undeserving of love and support. every one does, but i know who you are; i know how hard you work and your honesty. and i want to guarantee you a home with me, if you ever need one. because i love you."

wow. you've cried so much these past few months, and you're sure you're about to start again. heeseung wiped your tears with his thumb, and your heart swelled.

a year ago, you would have never even thought of accepting heeseung's feelings. a few months ago, you thought you had just missed him, finally reciprocating his feelings right as he lost them. but now you were finally on the same page, and you didn't want to waste another moment.

"i love you, heeseung."

graduation day was a busy one. you had to start getting ready earlier than other students in order to prepare your speech and arrive before everyone else. it was stressful, yet rewarding, especially as you crossed the stage and finally received your diploma.

when you and heeseung were set to give your pre-written speeches, you almost didn't notice the way everyone looked motivated during his, being captured by his words yourself. you hoped to be able to instil that inspiration in others one day.

towards the end of his speech though, he did something you didn't expect, but shouldn't have been surprised by.

"so toward my fellow graduates and our families who've supported us all this way, let's celebrate our achievements and strive to follow our dreams," then turned to look back at you, pulling a bouquet of flowers from under podium, which he'd blocked from your view this whole time with his body. "as i will be with mine. so i'll ask one last time: would you let me have the honour of being your boyfriend?"

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't hide the smile on your face. with the cheers echoing throughout the hall, you suddenly got a sense of deja vu, remembering his election speech the previous year.

oh, how much things have changed since then.

"if only you'll let me be your girlfriend."

; BONUS

with exams over and the heatwave taking over the country, you had decided to spend the day at heeseung's house and try to cool off.

"are you and ningning going back to camp this summer?" you asked, hoping he'd say no. having zero contact with your best friends for two weeks sounded like hell. not even a good morning or good night text? shivers went down your spine at the thought.

"i think i'll be busy with college apps. not sure about ningning though."

"really?" you gasped, turning over to look at him. "so basically i get to spend the whole holiday with you."

heeseung grinned at you excitedly, thinking the same. then, his face suddenly lit up, as if remembering something.

"speaking of ningning, i just remembered how she sprained her leg last year. she spent the rest of the week in the infirmary."

"really? she was fine when she came back though."

"it was minor, so it only took one week, in the middle of those two."

suddenly, you remembered something too.

"i'd hang out with him, break my leg, therefore obliging him to bring me to the hospital, manipulate him to visit me every day as i recover, be overbearing as hell so that he'd realise he doesn't want me anymore, and poof! he's gone."

"no way..."

"what?" he questioned.

"did you have to visit her everyday?"

"oh. yeah, to give her her medicine and meals. the other kids had basically made me their makeshift nurse, since i treated them better than the nurse apparently," he laughed at the memory. "i caught the old lady glaring at me several times - maybe she thought i'd stolen her job?"

you laughed with him, but not only because of his story. you couldn't believe ningning's oddly specific solution had actually come out of experience. you were so going to bully her for this later.

"should i glare at you too, then?"

"hm?" he hummed confusedly.

"for stealing my heart."

heeseung blinked at you for a moment, before breaking into a wide smile and suddenly attacking you with tickles (a habit you learned he tended to do when he was flustered, specifically by you).

giggles escaped you, laughing so hard that it began to hurt. if this is how it's going to be with heeseung, you'll grow abs in no time.

"okay! okay, stop-" you cackled.

he obliged, helping you sit back up. then he tucked your hair behind your hear and placed a quick peck on your lips.

suddenly shy, you looked away with a smile facing the fan as it blew air onto your face, pushing your hair back. when you looked back at heeseung over your shoulder, you were surprised to find him beaming at you with awe on his face.

"you're beautiful, you know?"

"only when i'm with you."

"nope. you're always stunning."

"okay."

"you don't believe me?"

"i do."

"good. i'll keep saying it anyway, to make sure you do."

you stared at him for a moment that felt like hours, just staring into each others eyes. you then went in for a hug, toppling over the other and staying in that position - just you two cuddling on his bed.

sure, it was really hot today, but somehow the warmth from his body was more comfortable than anything else. you couldn't have asked for a more perfect moment.

; AUTHOR'S CORNER ! is it obvious i've never had a big injury before... anyway i hope u guys enjoyed this! i wrote this really quick and suddenly like it js came out of nowhere lol but for now i'm proud of it :)

; TAGLIST - @naespas @okwonyo @sleepdeprivedline @lcvclywon @llvrhee @hommyy-tommy @sumzysworld @syazzzlisa @jiawji @cjayius @desistay @dimplewonie perm. @lovelovelovebts @miyseung @babyy-bambii @haechansbbg @gweoriz @maoyueze @manooffline @yizhoutv @rikibun @wonniversity networks. @kflixnet @k-films @/k-labels

#·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ mi's works #kflixnet #k-labels #k-films #enhypen #enhypen x reader #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #enhypen heeseung #heeseung fic #heeseung fluff #heeseung angst #heeseung scenarios #heeseung imagines #heeseung fics #heeseung oneshots #heeseung long fics #ੈ♡˳ wait until you like me again

[writingmeraki]

cold enough to chill my bones.

a roronoa zoro drabble !

pairing : zoro x gn!reader, teasing frenemies to ???

genre : fluff, romance, they like each other but aren't dating...yet.

warnings : not any i can think of! if you find anything alarming then lmk :)

author's note : enjoy this quick drabble while you wait for the first chapter of the zoro series!! and also i got the idea to make after i got almost sick last night- maybe zoro is a bit of ooc? idk i just love the idea of him being a menace while flirting but not knowing what to do when someone flirts back at him lololol let me know what you think ! <3

word count : 1k

Despite the sun almost blinding you as it set, the sky turning into shades of deep pink intertwined with light purple and hints of yellowish orange, you felt cold.

Naturally, you'd always been the type to get cold easily, quite literally. Before even the harsh winters used to begin, you'd be getting the chills amid the warm autumn.

Though. it was beneficial when it was the blazing summer and you were always not on the brink of dying due to the immense heat as your cooler hands and feet made you more comfortable. 

But today, it was a bane to your existence as your teeth chattered as you sat down on the lounging chair in the middle of the ship, trying to rub your hands to bring life back to them. 

“Seems like someone can’t even take the fall breeze huh?” 

The familiar voice taunted you and you didn’t even need to look at him to know he was probably smirking as he looked down at you. 

Sighing in annoyance, you faced Zoro and clicked your tongue when you were right about him smirking. 

It was a tad bit distracting though, especially since he looked too…attractive than you’d like to admit.

“If you’re here to taunt me then leave me be.”

“The weather is annoying enough anyways, I don’t need another nuisance.” Not wanting to entertain him today, you turned your back towards him and faced the sunset. 

Too bad it was such a beauty but your body wasn’t allowing you to just simply be in bliss to enjoy it. 

Suddenly you felt a heavy weight on your shoulders, which took you by surprise as you flinched to stand up and yelped loudly. 

“Calm down idiot, it’s just a jacket,” Zoro said as it was his turn to roll his eyes,

“For the record, I didn’t come to ‘annoy’ you as you said which is quite ironic coming from you but I saw you shivering like a drenched cat,”

“So me being the considerate person I am,” You scoffed at his humble attitude which he chose to ignore, “I’ll let you wear my jacket for the time being.” 

Honestly, you were confused. Zoro was a confusing man you‘d concluded. Since the time you’d joined the crew, he’d been confusing you by saying something different, different as in finding every way to taunt you but then he’d be nice as a true gentleman with his actions.

Like right now for example. 

So ultimately, you were confused about how to thank him.

“Uh…thank you?” You’d thought it was best to just say it, figuring it was enough as you pushed your arms throughout the black clothing that was a tad bit larger than you. 

Of course, it was larger near the shoulders, enough to fit almost two of you inside.

“That’s it? That’s how you thank me? You know I almost saved you from I don’t know shivering to death here?” 

You sighed, now in exhaustion at his over-exaggeration, it wasn’t like if he hadn’t helped, you’d have not gotten up yourself and gone into the kitchen since it was usually always warmer as Sanji was always cooking something and the heat was always bubbling there.

He tsked at your sighing and supposedly unappreciative attitude, ready to go on a rant about how people nowadays never appreciated the little things and whatever.

When suddenly you got an idea. 

“-sometimes even if a gesture may be less, you should sti-” You shut him up by leaning forward, on your tiptoes and pulled him by his yellow shirt closer to you, landing your lips on his surprisingly soft ones.

That oughta shut him up. 

You pulled away in about three seconds, eyes shut as you just relished how soft they were and how right you’d been about them being like this from the countless times you’d imagined kissing him.

When you pulled away, you saw something you didn’t think you’d have seen anytime soon. 

Zoro was red, a bit wide-eyed as he stared at you, not speaking another word, his cheeks highlighted with a blush that was familiar to you in a way it was something you’d always experience whenever you’d check him out for too long. 

“Sooo is that enough for a thank you?” You smirked at him tauntingly, thriving in the way he was speechless, happy he could feel how you felt at times when he decided to shamelessly be a menace, a cute one, at that. 

“Now if you excuse me, I have some work to do.” Turning around, you didn’t say anything else as you tried to hide your giggles recalling his comical expression of astonishment.

“YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT!” After a few moments of gathering his thoughts, Zoro was able to form a proper reaction.

“I deserve more than a peck! Kiss me like you mean it-” You burst out into giggles now at the way he was whining as you shook your head abruptly turning around to face him when he began to follow you. 

“For that you have to earn your way to it!” You mocked him, pocking your tongue out as he glared at you, now crossing his arms.

“Are you seriously messing around with the Roronoan Zoro, demon pirate hunter?”

You rolled your eyes at his seemingly serious tone but you knew he was playing into the little thing you’d created as his lips twitched, trying to hide his grin.

You grinned widely at him, now your dimples peaking out, 

“Ohh if you are the pirate hunter, you’ll have to catch me first to get your treasure!”

 As cheesy and cringy as it was, you caught him off guard as you turned around and ran, figuring the place to run to was likely the kitchen in the confined space you had.

“HEY! Now you’re just cheating!” You heard him shout behind to which caused more giggles,which left your cheeks aching from how widely you’d been smiling.

Admittedly, the once cold you’d been feeling was now replaced by the warmth unknowingly yet knowingly caused by the oh-so-famous pirate hunter.

Maybe he did deserve a proper thank you afterall huh?

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri.do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest. I don't own any of the characters from the movie, rightfully belonging to One Piece creators and the Netflix franchise and also this is a fictional work, not relating to any of the cast in real life.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2023

#[ pri works ] #one piece #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa #zoro x you #one piece fanfiction #one piece live action #one piece ff #zoro fanfiction #zoro ff #one piece zoro #x female reader #x male reader #x gn reader #zoro drabbles #zoro opla #roronoa zoro x reader #opla #opla fanfiction

[lueurjun]

enemies to lovers with yeonjun

yeonjun x reader — in which you hate him and assume he hates you back, until you realise that maybe he never hated you at all. it’s a long one! requests are open if you want something specific <3

choi yeonjun is the bane of your existence

his mere presence— oof. it infuriates you for no reason

it wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t have to see him everyday

but unfortunately you do

because he’s your brothers (soobin) best friend and has been practically adopted by your family

dear soobin simps feel free to change your brother, i get it bae i totally get it

you can’t catch a break he’s practically moved in at this point

you’re tired of seeing this boy everywhere you look

cant you just go downstairs at 3 am for a glass of water without finding him shirtless in your kitchen munching on a sandwich??

your parents have more pictures of him in your house than of you

#favouritism

#hesthechildtheyalwayswanted

your hatred for him started when you were eight years old

it even caused a rift between you and soobin bc your dumbass bother picked HIS side over yours

#evenmorefavouritism

#justicefory/n:(

what did he do?

PURPOSELY spilled his grape juice all over the front of your trousers making it look like your eight year old self pissed yourself

on a park with fellow kids your age who are mean as hell

you got bullied pretty bad after that and though time moved on and they forgot, you never did

it stuck with you

get behind me i’ll rip his hair out

say the word and i’ll fight him for u

anyways from that day on you DETESTED him

and he’s dumb so he has no idea why but instead of asking

he decided to dislike you back because in his mind that’s the most logical thing to do

what an idiot am i right?

a handsome one tho;)

sorry:( we dislike him rn i still got ur back

constant squabbling over the smallest things because he didn’t know when to shut up and you just hated his face

but not really because if you swallowed your pride just a tad you would admit that you do see the handsomeness within him

don’t worry bae you can admit that you’d jump on his bones if you didn’t hate him so much

ahem. anyways.

you cannot stand him because he’s the devils spawn and he doesn’t deserve your praise

until you’re set to go to prom and you have a really cute date with someone you’d had a crush on for a really long time

yeonjun of course makes a comment about your appearance but you don’t even care

because you have a date with someone special

and he has to attend with soobin so who’s the real loser?

not him my love id love to go with soobin

they leave and you wait back for your date to pick you up

time is ticking by and you’re starting to get a little nervous

your parents are starting to look at you in sympathy and you absolutely want the ground to swallow you up

because you’ve been stood up and it becomes apparent when an hour has passed and still no show or text and you’re starting to feel insecure and stupid

ur perfect bby lemme at ‘em

just when you’re about to hang up your outfit and hide beneath your duvet covers

the doorbell rings and you spring up with immense happiness

because your date hasn’t forgotten you after all

only when you answer the door it isn’t your date

rather yeonjun?? standing with flowers?? and no soobin in sight??

your parents are literally cradling each other in awe

and you’re like ??

“i know being stood up sucks for you but it’s the perfect opportunity for me to make right whatever wrong i did… and ask you to be my date…”

he sounds nervous?? genuine??

there’s a glimmer of hope in his eyes that you just don’t have in you to crush

so you accept the flowers and press a kiss to his cheek before eventually taking his arm

“i kinda don’t wanna go to the prom anymore… can we just go get something to eat? unless you wanna go?”

he seems kinda surprised for a second but then he grins with that stupid little twinkle in his pretty little eyes that admittedly have you swooning

“i’d prefer that honestly”

so that’s exactly what you do

yeonjun drives to a mcdonald’s and he pays for your food and then you just sit in the car park

together

and for as long as you’ve known him you have never actually hung out with him one on one for longer than fifteen minutes

but somehow it’s not awkward?

you both swing into subtle jokes and he even throws in a few flirty comments here and there

which takes you by surprise but what shocks you more is that you don’t mind them??

you retaliate to them but with the same flirty undertones

flirting in a mcdonald’s car park dressed to go to prom

that’s so romantic get out

the bar is in hell i know

don’t even @ me i need a moment rn

i ship u both. get married pls

anyways after eating until your stomachs felt full and there were tears of laughter in your eyes

the dreaded question rolls around

“why do you hate me?”

way to ruin the vibes yeonjun

“because you suck”

i rate the honesty babe

“ok sure i deserve that i think- but what did i do? you never used to hate me when we were kids”

you’re a little annoyed now

because how does he not remember the incident that has stuck in your mind for years?

“do you seriously not remember?”

and he shakes his head looking all clueless

which makes you feel a little embarrassed because had you just been dramatic this entire time?

maybe a little but it’s valid. i back u 100%

get his ass you sweet thing!

“you spilled grape juice all over my jeans at the park and told everyone i peed! i got made fun of for so long after that! it was mean!”

the vibe has been completely ruined now

well done yeonjun

speaking of yeonjun, he feels terrible

he remembers that incident back when he was an absolute menace

he still is but not as bad

what makes him feel worse is that you’ve only ever attacked him due to the hurt he caused you

meanwhile, he was just as mean back in retaliation

his world was literally crumbling

“and soobin took your side! you took my street cred and my brother!”

i’m soobin’s lawyer. he didn’t mean it

okay sorry! i still have your back!

“i’m sorry—truly. i didn’t realise how much it would hurt you or that you held a grudge—”

“maybe you should’ve asked.”

“i know. i’m sorry. i know nuggets won’t help but you can have an extra one of mine…”

you wanted to stay mad at him

but with the way his big eyes stared back at you whilst he held up a nugget as a peace offering

there was something oddly adorable about it

you take it from him because duh? who wouldn’t?

i mean vegans probably wouldn’t—

if you’re a vegan i’m so sorry imagine you’re eating something else

“why did you decide to take me to prom?”

you can’t help but ask the question that’s been prodding at you since you left the house

“saw your jackass date with someone else and soobin felt bad but he had his own date so i said i’d come get you…”

oh.

so it was just a favour for soobin

ok :D that’s fine

not tho is it bae? you lyin?

apart of you hoped that he asked you because he wanted to

perhaps the disappointment showed on your face because suddenly he starts stuttering

but you shake your head and force a smile

me in the mirror after an emotional breakdown :P

“let’s go then. he’s probably wondering—”

“no. that was a cop out.”

pussy

you just gape at him waiting for him to carry on

because what else are you meant to say?

“i wanted to ask you to be my date a while ago but you hated me and to be honest i never hated you, i just felt… i don’t know… bitter i guess? and that’s no excuse. i’m a dick and i know it. but when i saw your date with someone else, i knew it had to be some kind of sign that you were meant to attend the prom with me.”

okay romcom confession KING

go off

before you can comprehend anything, he carries on with his ramble

“i’m so sorry for the hurt i inflicted on you when we were kids, and for the way i’ve behaved since then. i know it won't make up for everything, but if you let me, i will spend every day of my life trying to make it up to you. Even if it takes forever for your feelings of hatred towards me to diminish or disappear altogether, i’ll wait - and hope that one day, i can prove myself to be a worthy partner for you.”

someone grab a bucket i’m gonna be sick ( i’m sliding down my wall crying rn )

i’d fold in an instant

kdrama yeonjun GO OFF

you kinda just sit there like a lemon for a sec

because wot?

literally like what is going on?

“you’ll have to grovel.”

“i will. believe me.”

“and you won’t hurt me?”

“never.”

there’s this look in his eyes that you haven’t seen before

a determined and genuine look that has you feeling quite assured

the grudge against him is still there, of course, it’s not just going to go away

but it’s not as strong and you find yourself feeling rather excited

“then consider this our first date. the first step to making things right.”

yeonjun is a little wary as he takes your hand but the nerves settle when you don’t recoil from him

hesitantly he kisses your knuckles with a grin

“to making things right.”

surprisingly, you’re thankful your date stood you up

but no one is thankful as yeonjun

gosh why do i do these? i literally make myself cry

#txt #tomorrrow x together #kpop #txt headcanons #txt fluff #txt enemies to lovers #txt x reader #txt imagines #txt fic #txt angst #choi yeonjun #yeonjun #yeonjun headcanons #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun enemies to lovers #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun fic #txt scenarios #kpop headcanons #enemies to lovers #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #kpop fic #kpop fluff #kpop angst #yeonjun angst

[vibingandsimping]

hi! would you feel comfortable writing up something for a godhood!gale after he assembles the crown of karsus and wields the power for himself, seeking out a vulnerable tav as his chosen? i think the darker aspects of gale’s personality, like his ego and his possessiveness, could be really attractive

I like the way your brain thinks. Keep sending me juicy thoughts like this… I am THRIVING. He 100% would seek you out.

I wanted to make this a longer post for one of my follower goal specials. I rewrote this like two or three times because I liked the prompt. Still, was never satisfied with it. I will possibly write something based off this later… but for now enjoy a drabble + some headcanons :)

(also still haven’t finished the game… work is a bitch 🤞)

Gale always sought out knowledge and power. It was how he had gotten so intimately involved with Mystra. He spent his life studying and practicing to ensure he’d be a great wizard- like his mentor Elminster. Yet, nothing ever truly felt like enough to him. The weave in his chest ever-consuming proof of his hunger. That was until the Netherstones. He nearly drooled when you held Ketheric’s in your hand. The power thrumming and sending his veins alight. He thought all to have only a fraction of their power… but these. These stones were unlike anything he’d ever seen.

Everytime he stood near Orin or Gortash, his skin would tingle. He yearned to wield that for himself. To study and debunk everything behind it and nurture his mind with the intellect he could collect. He placed his trust into you. You led the group and held them close to you after killing Orin. Gale was noticeably on edge the entire trip with Gortash. He chalked it up to nerve- partially true. The Elder Brain was a powerful entity and surely would be intimidating. So, you as oblivious as ever, smiled and reassured him. He almost envied you. Once you reached the brain with the Archduke, you handed over the two stones and reconnected the three. Piecing together the Crown of Karsus. After Gortash was slain by Bane for serving his purpose… fate was left in your hands.

He watches as you turn the artifact over to him. He’s trembling as he holds the crown, finally feeling the immense magic coursing through him. He closes his eyes and claims it for himself- finally. When he reopens he is faced with Mystra who is less than pleased. He won’t relent, no, this is what he wanted. She placed a bomb in his chest just to ensure nobody could claim this power. How ironic that he ended up being Karsus’s successor? After winning a mental duel she curses him and banishes him from her realm. Why should he care, though? Mystra was nearly useless to him. He was a god now. When he returns to your realm, his skin glows ever so slightly and his brown eyes are much brighter. You can see his changed form and sense the change of his mind. He takes one of your hands in his- his skin electrifying to the touch. It sends a shiver down your spine. Gale draws the back of your hand to his lips and presses a tender kiss. “Thank you,” he hums, “for bestowing this privilege onto me. I won’t let it be for nothing. Join me, my love. I can give you anything and everything you’d ever want.” Quite frankly, how could you turn down a god?

Gale was different from that day on. He was still tender and caring. So doting for your every need. Yet, he seemed to view you much differently. You were a mortal- so weak in comparison to him. His lips would trail your skin as if you were porcelain and he so despised not having you by his side. What if something happened to his beloved lover? Oh, and don’t you dare imply that he’s changed. His usual gentle and… a little overprotective or possessive nature will morph. He’ll become colder and stare at you. How has he changed, his beauty? What do you mean he doesn’t treat you the same? Isn’t this better? In the lap of power and in the hands of a god?

Careful what you say and do. He would hate having to punish you. Stripping you of your magic abilities or casting a spell to dumb-ify you. That, or how about being trapped in his personal quarters for a couple days? With no-one but himself to keep you company? Oh, don’t worry. Those are only if you disrespect his new placement. He knows it’s a lot to adjust to, he’s still adjusting himself. This is a journey you’ll take on together, hand in hand, just like how you started. He’ll do nearly anything for you, only ask. Just promise to never leave his side, okay? He couldn’t bare to let you go.

And if you did leave… it won’t be for long. He will find you and he’ll ensure that you recognize the mistake. You can’t escape your god, love.

#my asks #anon asks #my writing #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate iii #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #bg3 gale #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #gale dekarios x reader #gale x tav #gale dekarios x tav

[valeskafics]

"The Bane Of My Existence" (Aemond Targaryen x Martell!Reader, Side!Aegon Targaryen x Martell!Reader) - Chapter One: A Pleasing Smile

a/n: i'm mentally ill, starting this sorry 🤭❤️

Summary: The heiress to House Martell begins her search for a husband.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, nothing too crazyyyy

Word Count: 2,782 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

At the age of eight and ten, your lord father, the Prince Qoren Martell of Dorne, decides that it is high time that you find a husband. You are the eldest daughter and heir to the throne of Dorne, whose plenitude of resources make a match with you desirable for any major house in the Seven Kingdoms, including that of the Westerosi royal family. After all, by marrying you, Dorne would become a part of the Seven Kingdoms, a Targaryen thereby finally unifying them.

When the news spreads that you are in search of a husband, dozens of ravens flood your lord father’s study, offering glittering jewels, shining tiaras, and so much more from mamas and fathers eager to put their sons forth to create a strategic alliance. Your lord father married for love. He is a lucky man, and he knows this. He wishes you to have the same opportunity, but he is not getting any younger and womanhood is upon you. It is your duty as his heir to further the future of house Martell, and as such, marriage is a necessity.

But, your father refuses to choose a groom for you without your consent. He decides to throw a grand feast at your ancestral home of Sunspear so that you may meet your potential suitors, and hopefully, fall in love with a good, kind man. While you wish to remain a girl a while longer, you know your father is right. It is on your shoulders to secure the future of your house. But you refuse to fall in love with any of these men. This will be a marriage of mutual advantage, not a love match.

After your mother died, your lord father was beside himself with grief. He did not eat, he did not sleep. He simply wept. You were left to care for your younger sisters and brothers, a girl of only three and ten. Forced to grow up much too quickly simply because your father had loved too deeply.

Love makes you weak, you realized, and you will not be weak.

And so, the letters are sent. Let each house that so desires bring forth their eligible sons to see if they strike the fancy of the beautiful Crown Princess of Dorne, the Diamond of the South.

When the day of the banquet finally arrives, you go out for a morning ride on your mare, something you’ve done every day since your mother passed. In these moments, you take time for yourself that you seldom are able to otherwise. You are able to think, to plan, to strategize, and on the odd occasion, able to dream. All of this is interrupted when your horse begins to whinny in a panic.

“Easy, girl,” you soothe her, “Easy.”

You see what has spooked her. A massive dragon, circling the skies high above the castle. You wonder to yourself which Targaryen it belongs to, this massive beast. You can hear the flapping of its mighty wings, the way it roars, completely entranced by the sight. You’ve always dreamed of seeing a dragon in real life, and now, you have. In your moment of distraction, your mare attempts to buck you off of her, eager to run from any perceived danger. She has always been a bit skittish. You let out an unladylike shriek, grabbing her reins and attempting to control the situation. But, your salvation comes in the form of a very handsome gentleman.

He is quite tall, you note, and appears to be of Valyrian heritage, with long platinum hair, an aquiline nose, a strong jaw, and one brilliant blue eye, the other covered by an eyepatch. You know one of these Valyrians is rumored to have lost their eye, but you can’t seem to remember their name for the life of you.

But you are not one to be distracted by a pretty face. You dismount and turn to stare at him, skeptical and annoyed at his intrusion.

“Thank you for your help, my lord, but I assure you I had the situation under control.”

The man has the utter audacity to give you a sarcastic smile as he responds, “Yes, I’m sure you did, my lady.”

You feel indignant at this stranger calling your skill as a rider into question, gritting your teeth as you ask, “And may I know the name of my,” you spit out the next word with as much vitriol as you can muster, “Rescuer?”

“I’m no one of consequence,” he responds as a stable boy takes your horse away, “I am simply here with my family while my brother attempts to wed some spoiled princess,” he pauses before asking curiously, “And you?”

Your blood is boiling as you respond, “I am simply a spoiled princess attempting to wed someone to secure the future of my house,” his eye widens in embarrassment, cheeks flushing slightly as you turn on your heel and storm away, unable to speak, “Good day, ser.”

That evening, your handmaiden dresses you in a beautiful lilac gown that accentuates the shape of your body. Your brother, Qyle, comes forth to escort you to the banquet hall. He is only two years younger than you, but his immaturity makes the gap in years seem even more jarring. He gives you a devious little grin.

“Is the Diamond of the South ready to find the love of her life, dearest sister?”

You roll your eyes, elbowing him as you walk down the hall, “You jest too much at my expense, darling brother. You know what my aim is tonight.”

“Indeed, sister,” he mocks, “An advantageous match with a tolerable man,” he sighs, “Such a hopeless romantic, you are.”

You nudge him, giggling slightly, “You laugh now, but I am the future leader of this kingdom, brother, you will have to treat me with more respect then.”

“Well, I at least have tonight to disrespect you.”

The two of you dissolve into giggles before composing yourself and entering the banquet hall. A herald announces your arrival and you suddenly feel every bit the princess you are. Everyone’s eyes are on you as your brother escorts you down the stairs. It seems as though every noble house has come to attend, you muse. Hopefully by the end of the night, you will be betrothed and done with this farce.

You approach your lord father and kiss him on the cheek. Now begin the introductions.

First is Lord Ulrick Dayne. In your youth, you spent some time at Starfall with him and his sister, Lady Clarisse, who you count to be among your dearest friends. He is kind, handsome, and intelligent and would be a good match. You smile at him and curtsy deeply as he bows to you and makes to leave, but not before asking for a dance.

“I would be honored if you would save a dance for me, my lady.”

You give him another dazzling smile and nod, “I shall, my lord.”

“Well done, love,” your father whispers, “He seems a good man.”

You smile at your father, taking his hand and kissing it.

Next is Lord Larys Strong, with his simpering little smile, and it takes everything in you not to regurgitate your lunch when you imagine him as your husband. You remain polite but do not entertain the older gentleman’s advances, in truth, feeling quite annoyed that the man even had the audacity to approach you in the first place when he’s old enough to be your father.

Then comes Lord Jason Lannister, handsome but a complete braggart. He tells you about his ancestral home of Casterly Rock, its sheer size, and the multitude of riches his family possesses for no less than thirty minutes. You’re hardly able to stop yourself from falling asleep as he speaks.

Finally, the family who your father was most excited for you to meet came forth.

“Your Grace,” he says, bowing to Queen Alicent Hightower, the bride of King Viserys, “I trust your journey was pleasant.”

Queen Alicent Hightower smiles, nodding, “It was indeed, Your Grace. My children came by dragonback, but I chose to come the long way. I apologize that my husband was not able to join me. He was needed back home.”

“Of course,” your father nods in understanding.

“And you, my sweet girl,” Alicent smiles, taking your hands next, “You are the very image of my dear friend, your mother.”

Your father smiles at you proudly, tears in his eyes at the memory of your mother, his beloved lady wife. Your mother was a lady’s maid to Queen Aemma in her youth, and it was during a diplomatic visit to King’s Landing when your father met her and fell in love. She was a dear friend of Queen Alicent.

You squeeze Queen Alicent’s hand softly, “I am sorry that she is not here to see us finally meet, Your Grace. She had such great love for you and spoke of you often. I feel as though I know you already.”

Queen Alicent is deeply moved by this, you can tell by the glistening of her eyes. She blinks back her tears and introduces her children to you. Her youngest son, Daeron, who she assures you is not here to court you. You laugh and curtsy to the younger lord who gives you an extravagant bow.

Next is her daughter, Helaena. She is quite beautiful, with long blonde hair and large blue eyes. Her mother tells you she has just celebrated her twentieth nameday. She smiles at you softly and curtsies, which you return.

“You are so pretty, Princess,” she compliments, “And so graceful. I hope we can become good friends, and perhaps, even sisters.”

You blush at her words and lower your head in thanks, “Sweet Princess, you are too kind. I would be honored to count you as a friend. And you are quite the beauty yourself, if I may be so bold.”

She looks downright giddy at your words. Queen Alicent frowns slightly, murmuring to herself that one of her children is nowhere around, but sighs in annoyance and waves the matter off. Helaena steps back and the last member of the family steps forward. Prince Aegon.

He is very handsome, you note, with platinum locks, beautiful lilac eyes, and soft features. You smile as he bows, gazing up at you, curiosity in his eyes.

“My princess,” he says, his voice a deep baritone, “I am Prince Aegon. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness,” you respond, curtsying in turn, “I trust the journey here was pleasant?”

He realizes this is the longest you have spoken to any suitor and thusly, you must have taken an interest in him. He nods eagerly.

“Yes, my princess. Your home is very beautiful. But you must come visit King’s Landing. It is quite different from what you are used to, but also very lovely,” he paused before leaning forward and grinning, a bit rakishly, “Much like yourself.”

You let out a coquettish laugh, “You flatter me, my prince.”

“‘Tis no mere flattery, my lady,” his gaze on you seems sincere enough, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, “I speak the truth.”

You bite back a smile, “Well, thank you, my prince.”

“You’re quite welcome,” he takes your hand and kisses it softly, “My princess. Would you do me the honor of a dance this evening?”

He swears your smile is so bright you’ve blinded him as you reply, “I would like nothing more.”

He leads you to the dance floor. Your father and his mother smile at each other hopefully. Long ago, your mothers dreamed of having a boy and girl and them getting married. Perhaps it will happen?

Prince Aegon is an excellent partner, both in dance and conversation, you find. He is of good temperament, light on his feet, and takes your teasing in good humor. All the traits you wish for in a husband. By the time the dance finishes, you have made your decision.

Prince Aegon Targaryen will be the one to court you.

You and your siblings sit outside for a moment, basking in the glamor of a successful feast, toasting to each other’s good health.

“It seems our beloved sister has found the new lord of our house,” your sister, Aliandra, a pretty girl of five and ten, teases you, “And he is so handsome! You are so lucky, Y/N. He will be so easy to fall in love with!”

“Love is the last thing I desire, my milk and honey sister,” you remind her, sipping your wine, “I simply need my children, the future of our house, to be of good stock. And so their father must be of impeccable quality,” you pause, “I require a pleasing face, an acceptable wit, and genteel enough manners to credit a lord of our great house.”

“Sounds easy enough to find,” Qyle teases, making you stick your tongue out at him, “And yet all your suitors besides Prince Aegon fell short. But how will you woo him?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m a princess of House Nymeros Martell, I have many charms. I shall have no problem there.”

You and your siblings dissolve into giggles. They soon choose to return to the festivities, leaving you outside, alone in your thoughts. Your solitude is interrupted by the sound of a twig snapping. You glance around, curious.

“Who’s there?” you demand, “I can hear you. Come out at once.”

It takes a moment but the man who helped you, the very handsome man who helped you I digress, appears from behind a tree. He looks both sheepish and incensed, for what reason the latter is, you cannot begin to fathom.

“Oh,” you scoff, “It’s you. I was wondering if we’d meet again,” you pause, “The spoiled princess never did get your name.”

He pauses, looking taken aback, before retorting, “So you might discern if my wit is acceptable, my manners genteel?”

The sheer nerve of this man!

“You were eavesdropping,” you accuse, leveling him with a blank glare.

“It was hardly an effort,” he sneers, “You and your siblings were quite enthusiastic in proclaiming your many requirements for a husband loud enough for all your guests to hear.”

You raise a questioning brow, smiling amusedly, “You take issue with them?”

“I take issue with anyone who views marriage the way you do,” he paused before coming closer, the moonlight shining on his infuriatingly handsome face, “Princess Y/N, yes? When you manage to find this,” he paused to find the right words to express his disdain with your views, “Paragon of nobility, whatever makes you think he will accept your suit? Are the young men of Dorne truly won so easily by a pleasing smile and absolutely nothing more?”

You feel your “pleasing smile” turn slightly devious as you respond, leaning closer to him, “Ah, so you admit that you find my smile pleasing.”

A scowl mars his handsome face, making you giggle, “I find your opinion of yourself entirely too high. Your character is as deficient as your horsemanship,” he pauses before bowing, “I shall bid you goodnight.”

The sound of your musical laughter follows him all the way through the garden and back to the party. You find your second oldest brother, Quentyn, who appears to have heard this whole exchange, judging by the look on his face.

“What was that?” Quentyn, a boy of two and ten but almost your height, grins wickedly, “Some flirtation, I see? Dear sister, the scandal!”

“Oh, come off it,” you snicker, linking arms.

When you re-enter the hall, you are shocked to find your new acquaintance speaking with your hopeful intended. Aegon gives you a dazzling smile and bows again.

“My princess, may I introduce my younger brother, Prince Aemond? Aemond, this is-“

“Princess Y/N Martell,” he smiles tightly, “We’ve met.”

You bite back a laugh. He looks as though he could use a good long visit with his chamber pot with that face he’s making.

“I am glad to see you again, Your Highness. I so enjoyed our conversation earlier today,” you take Aegon’s arm and smile at him sweetly, “Your brother is truly a delight.”

Aegon’s eyebrows shoot up, “Oh? Aemond usually is very quiet, not the friendliest of the bunch. But I suppose with a lady as kind as you, he was taken in by your charms.”

Aegon doesn’t seem to hear Aemond’s disbelieving scoff, but you do, “Quiet? My good friend, Aemond? I could never imagine!”

Aemond grits his teeth and bows, swiftly exiting.

Oh, yes. This will be fun.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond fic #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond x reader #hotd fic #hotd x reader #house of the dragon fic #hotd #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #my writing #bane of my existence fic

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as gore, blood, violence, mentions of bullying, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a simple life with a simple job; find fresh meat. (Part of the Illuminate AU)

Characters: Steve Kemp

Note: Writing Steve was fun in this one and I like the reader. Hope you enjoy it just as much.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The only bar in the small town is predictably busy that Friday night. The furor of the crowd tamps out the music and the warmth of bodies swathes around the tables. You sit in your usual spot. You don’t often get out during the day, maybe once a week, but you’re there almost nightly.

Watching.

You’ve always been good at blending into the wall. In your solitary corner, you’re close to invisible. It’s astounding how easy it was to fade out of this place. To evade the whispers in the grocery store aisle or the gossip of scandalised old women on the pew. You used to think your unremarkability was a curse, until you made it your talent.

Funny to think you know them all. That you have a name to every face. That your ears prick at the echoes of secrets all around, of the underhanded comments, and the jealous rumours. It makes it all the more easier. You know how to use them all. You’ve made a weapon of what was once your bane.

You sip from your glass of ginger ale and whiskey. You nurse the single drink throughout the night. The moon is waxing but not yet full. You still have time. 

You twirl the straw with your fingers and watch the table of men hollering in their jerseys. It’s amusing to see how serious they take their games. And there’s the next table, two older couples straining to hear past the jeers of their neighbours. You drag a finger through the condensation as you suspect a confrontation to boil over.

You sit back as you sense the approach of shadows, bodies weaving free of the web of bodies. You look up at the two women, one with spiraling locks of bleach blonde and the other with an ombre of browns down her strands. Your chest plucks in recognition. There are not just names to the faces, there is that twinge deep in your chest.

The blonde bumps her hip into your table, an obvious ploy. She looks over her shoulder and gives a dripping smile as she touches her cheek. Her green eyes meet yours, beautiful despite the lack of thought behind them.

“Oh, sorry, hun,” she squeals, “it’s so crowded in here. We can’t find a table,” she gives that pretty smile, the one that gets her a free coffee from the same man who expects a healthy tip from you, the one that contrasts the venom of her soul, “you waiting for friends?”

She eyes the empty seats around your table. You shrug and sit back, shaking your head. You measure your expression and keep your gaze dull.

“No, you’re free to sit if you don’t mind me,” you call above the crowd.

You don’t expect her to accept the offer, but you didn’t expect the run-in at all. You feel slightly unprepared for it. The woman sitting alone with her whiskey is not the same girl who used to cower at the sight of bleach blond hair.

“Thanks, sweetie,” she proclaims victoriously and tugs on her friend's arm; you know her too. “Here.”

The woman with the layers of caramel and coffee streaked into her hair turns and gives a similarly fawning smile. That instinctual pandering which overrides most constraints of society. That privilege that only lasts so long and leaves the vessel empty and bitter. A shallow bowl can’t sate the hungry forever.

“I’m Lexi,” the bleach blonde introduces herself as she drops onto the wooden seat. You raise your eyebrows, repressing your disappointment. She really doesn’t remember you. Usually, that wouldn’t be so bad, but how could she forget? “This is Carmen.”

You offer your name in return, thinking that might spark her memories. She doesn’t flinch. Nope, those sleepless nights were not the same for her. You were just the troll under the bridge in her high school fairy tale.

“Don’t know how we ended up here,” Carmen rolls her eyes.

“Fucking Mandy and that idiot she calls a boyfriend. Tonight was supposed to be lit,” Lexi whines.

You’re amused. A whole decade and so little change. Like the rest of the town, it all just stays the same.

“Oh, sorry, hun,” Lexi turns her jade eyes on you, the speckle of amber in them cruelly beautiful, “we don’t mean to just ignore you. We had a party but the host locked us out in the cold. This town is so boring, isn’t it?”

You nod placidly, agreeing without a word. You watch her, waiting for anything, for just a sliver of remorse. She’s too much of a coward to admit it if she does remember, but you want to see it. You want to see the epiphany in those vapid eyes.

“Are you new?” Carmen asks, “I don’t recognize you.”

You shake your head, “I work nights. Don’t get out in the day.”

“Ah,” Carmen nods, “makes sense. Honestly, we need new friends,” she points between her and Lexi, “what are you drinking?”

“Whiskey,” you answer.

“Oh, whiskey knocks me on my ass,” Lexi whines.

“Pfft, you mean it has you knocking others on their asses,” Carmen rolls her eyes, “she’s an angry drunk.”

“Hey,” Lexi elbows her companion, “shut up. At least it doesn’t have me doing splits on the nearest guy–”

Carmen laughs, unbothered by the accusation, “look at us. You must think we’re crazy.”

You tilt your head, “not really.”’

Carmen seems deflated by your non-reaction. The two of them preen with the same expectation. That they will be praised and admired, as if they are worthy of your attention.

“I like her,” Lexi slides her manicured finger along the brim of her glass, “she’s so quiet.”

You look at her half-finished cocktail, then Carmen’s. Your eyes flick back up to their faces. It can’t be their first drink of the night. One more might be enough.

“Let me get the next round,” you offer.

“Oh, and she’s nice,” Lexi squeals. “Hon, you don’t have to–”

“No problem, I know the bartender,” you stand, “what did you want?”

You wait for their orders then duck through the crowd. You smirk as you approach the bar and join the crush of people around it. You found the one and with a few nights to spare.

🌔

Two drinks. Barely worth money but you see little value in that. The girls walk on either side of you, stumbling down the pavement as their vodka-laced breath fogs in front of them. They aren’t dressed for the weather, their short skirts expose them to the nip of the creeping winter. Stupid girls.

You get to the bridge as Carmen sways and stops to lean against the edge of the rail. She grips her hip and bends at the waist slightly, spitting onto the pavement. She burps and pushes her chin up to the glare of silver moonlight.

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna hurl,” she gurgles.

“God, Carm, you’re such a loser,” Lexi babbles as her heels clack dangerously under her and she hugs herself with a shiver, “it’s not even one o’clock.”

“Whatever,” Carmen holds her stomach, “I didn’t have dinner.”

“Or lunch, you fucking toothpick,” Lexi shoots back.

“Fuck off!” Carmen stands and stumbles, “you’re always such a fucking bitch.”

You stand back, forgotten in the background of their argument. You want to laugh. So simple that they turn to animals over the smallest things.

“Why don’t you go fucking home then? I don’t want you pissing on my couch again,” Lexi snaps.

“Wha– I told you, that was Gemma.”

“Bull fucking shit,” Lexi shoves the other girl, “you owe me a new fucking couch.”

“Don’t touch me,” Carmen pushes her bag, “go fuck yourself.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Lexi pouts.

“Whatever,” Carmen spins, nearly dropping her purse as she swings her arms out to catch her balance, “have a good fucking night, you whore.”

Lexi cackles as she watches the other girl’s shadow disappear down the street with treacherous steps, heels catching in each crack, as she mutters to herself. You look at the blonde, she’s not even worried about her so-called friend. No, she’s not even clever enough to worry about herself. She’s perfect, just not in the way she thinks.

“Hey,” you say softly. Her eyes round and she bats her fake lashes at you. She’s surprised by your lingering presence but giggles away the reminder, “I know a place.”

“A place?”

“Friday night, there’s a crew down at the industrial park… I really shouldn’t tell you,” you look at your boots, the scuff on the toes, the shorter lace on the left side. “It’s not too late.”

“Oh? A party?” She asks devilishly.

You give her a look and drag your eyes away, “if I take you, you can’t tell anyone.”

“Oh my god, I knew there was something about you,” she claps her hands, “totally down. My lips are sealed.”

“I mean it,” you warn her, “not even Carmen can know.”

“Fuck that bitch,” she scoffs and grabs your hand, “show me the way, hon.”

🌔

“Are you sure this is the right way?” Lexi asks as she clings to your arm. You have to keep yourself from elbowing her away. Not that much further.

Your footsteps echo across the empty lot, the shadows of the boxy industrial buildings rising to the east and the west. Most of them are abandoned, as lifeless as the rest of this decrepit town. You lead her on, set on the dingy steel doors of the one that used to be the meat processing plant.

It’s dark but for the scant sliver of light leaking through into the night. You shrug away from Lexi as she releases a brrrr through her chattering teeth. You approach the large door and grab the metal crank handle, wrenching it back and rolling it loudly in the quiet din of late autumn.

She steps forward hesitantly. You sense her look back and you turn, knowing she’s come too far to leave now. She rubs her arms as she follows you, poking her head forward as she peaks into the dim space.

There’s a single light shining, a bulb beneath a tin shade hung from a chain. It lends a sinister tint to the pieces of mismatched furniture.

You stand by the door, your elbow against it. She looks confused and disappointed. It must’ve been the same expression you wore that made her guffaw so loudly at your expense all those years ago.

“I thought you said…”

“Yeah, looks like they wrapped up early,” you sigh, “sorry, I can see if anyone’s still around…” you watch her hover at the threshold, “might as well come in. You’re freezing cold.”

“Yeah, thanks,” she breathes as touches her raw cheek, “you’re right.”

The frigid air is starting to sober her up. That’s no good. She enters and you slide the door on the tracks, twisting the lever until it catches. Her heels click over the concrete floor to the edge of the thin carpet.

“There’s some drinks around,” you offer, “sit.”

“Um, maybe I should call the taxi,” she says nervously.

“Why? More for us,” you go to the mini fridge in the corner. The bottles inside clink as you pull open the door, “vodka… oh, you like grape soda? Maybe cream soda?”

“Er,” you hear her sit heavily on the cushion, “sure…” she chatters again, “It is fucking cold.”

You fill a glass with pink soda and vodka. A double but you doubt she’ll taste it through the sugar. You bring it around the couch and place it on the round table by the armrest. You rub your hands together and blow into them.

“I’ll get the heater going,” you say.

You go to the metal radiator near the wall and turn the dial. You hover your hand over it, pretending to gauge the heat as you consider your next steps. You almost want to draw it out and enjoy it but you can’t risk that. No, you have to stick to the plan.

You do wonder what happened to everyone else. Usually there’s at least one straggler. You were counting on the distraction. Oh well.

“I’m just going to get a drink for myself,” you near her again and pull down the fleece blanket from the back of the couch, “here.”

She accepts it gratefully, pulling it around her shoulders before reaching for her drink. You go back to the fridge and open the door. You flip open the small compartment on the door and quickly pluck out a vial.

“What do you do for work?” You ask as you open a drawer in the wooden cabinet against the wall.

“Boring shit,” she nearly chokes on her vodka, “reception at the massage therapist downtown? You know, the only one…” she never had any issue talking about herself, “I make some money on the side doing OF.”

“OF?” You repeat as you pull the plunger of the syringe, “what’s that?”

“You serious?” She slurps between words as you face her, “Only Fans.”

“Oh, of course,” you keep your soles light and flat, trying not to let her hear, “makes sense.”

“Men are stupid. You don’t even have to show ass,” she laughs and takes another gulp. 

She drinks down the vodka soda, leaning her head back as you come up right behind her. Her eyes are closed as she tilts her chin up. You easily slip your hand around to jab the syringe into her throat.

Her eyes pop open and she releases the glass. You retract your hand as she coughs and claps her palm to her neck. She sputters and chokes, spitting out a mouthful onto the blanket as she slides forward on the couch.

“What the fuck was that?” She snarls, “you fucking freak!”

“It’s what you deserve,” you toss the syringe and hear it shatter, “you bitch.”

She slumps over and falls onto the floor. She struggles to stay on her hands and knees as she shakes her head, trying to free herself of the rising haze. It’s your turn to laugh as she slaps her hands on the floor desperately.

“Why…” she gurgles.

“I remember,” you declare as you stride to the front of the couch, “I fucking remember.”

You kick her ass and send her face first to the floor. She collapses into a heap, her body going limp. You stare down at her and take a deep breath. Time to clean up this mess.

🌔

You dream of the night before. The long walk to the warehouse, the echoing steps of your guest beside yours, the road winding ahead of you as if it is endless. The building remains distant and unreachable, seeming further the closer you get.

You wake with a start, the digital numbers on the clock glaring back at you. You roll onto your back and rub your crusty eyes. Laying there in the dark, the window bellowing against the thin walls, you wonder if it was real. Not the nightmare, but what came before. It’s like a dream come true.

You hit the button on the alarm clock to disable your alarm. You sit up and push yourself to the edge of the bed. You go through your morning routine; shit, show, primp, dress. Basic. No make-up, no scents, but you're clean and presentable. Insignificant and forgettable.

You pull on your denim jacket and the fingerless gloves you wear even when inside. The place is eternally cold and you don’t have the hide meant for it. Your fingers wander to the silver crescent hanging around your neck, a protectant.

You go out into the hall, quietly shutting your door behind you. You descend the metal stairs, one at a time, the curved structure wobbling slightly.

You see Lexi first. Her blonde hair is tangled and hangs around her drooping head. She’s still out. They usually wake up by now… if they’re alive. You hear the click of the kettle and your attention is drawn to the other figure in the room.

Steve’s dark blue shirt strains across his shoulders as he lifts the stainless steel kettle and pours steaming water into a burgundy mug. You near without a word, not voicing your surprise to see him awake before you. Instead, you pull down a cup of your own from the shelves and fumble through the basket of packets, taking a French Vanilla for yourself and dumping the instant grounds into the porcelain.

“If I couldn’t hear her heartbeat, I’d think she was dead already,” he comments as he stirs with a spoon. “You know I don’t like old meat.”

You roll your eyes and he hands you the spoon to mix your own. You blend until there’s a froth over the mixture. Not milk, you like the bitterness. He turns to lean on the cabinet and considers the blond tied to the steel chair.

“I may have gotten a bit… heavy handed,” you shrug as you blow steam away from your cup, “how did you know it wasn’t my heartbeat?”

“I know yours,” he says coolly, “it skips.”

You don’t comment on his last remark. Instead, you test the temperature of the coffee, the flavour awakening your heavy mind. You stare at Lexi as she hangs forward, arms bound behind the chair. You grin as you swallow your mouthful.

“You’re in a good mood,” he says.

“Not really,” you rebuff, “where are the others?”

He scoffs and crosses one foot in front of the other, “as if I know what those assholes get up to. You know how they are.”

“I haven’t seen Kraven since the last moon.”

“Thank god,” Steve chuckles, “you gotta admit, he’s the worst of us.”

You don’t know about that. Again, you know silence is valuable. Your thoughts, more so. Besides, they don’t keep you around for your opinions. It’s a skill to be okay going unheard.

“Adam… he’s being… Adam. The others, like I said, who knows.”

You nod and take another swig of coffee. Steve stands straight and paces around the room. There is not a sickle goosebump on his skin, he doesn’t shiver, even in only the button-up and his dark slacks. Your jaw aches as it wants to chatter.

You look down at the dark brew. There you are, just the same as you’ve always been, wanting to be a part of a crowd you’ll never fit in with. So you accept the grunt work, you accept being peripheral. You would rather be tolerated than excluded.

He nears Lexi and looks her up and down. “Maybe it’s better they stay sparse, she doesn’t have much on her.”

You roll your tongue and suck your teeth. You stare at the back of her head and your lip curls without thinking. Let him feast. Your disgust turns to content and you let yourself smile.

“What is it?” He asks, the angles of his face catching the early morning light in just the right way. The sun peers in through the square pains set high into the wall. The sight of him almost takes your breath away as his pupils seem to flash silver.

“Nothing,” you lie.

Your eyes wander to the round ornament hung centre on the back wall. Like a clock but without numbers. Instead, the phases of the moon tracked by the ticking gears and iron hands.

“I know when you’re not telling me the truth,” he says.

Does he know? If he did, he would know how you envy him, and at times, even want him. But you know better. You are not like him and it’s clear he won’t let you be like him. That isn’t part of your pact.

You touch the necklace beneath your collar. Your heart flutters as you think of telling him the truth. He squints at you, drinking deep, only to show his tongue in a gesture of revulsion.

“The fucking moon,” he growls, “everything tastes like shit this time of the month… except for fresh meat.”

“Tomorrow night,” you say.

“You know, same as me,” he eyes you narrowly, “come on, pet, stop fucking around and tell me what’s got you so… chipper.”

You put your coffee down and cross your arms. It’s damn cold here. You’ve done your work. You get to go to your room, turn on the heater, and wait out the moon. Just like always. They never cared as long as you brought them a good meal.

“I want to watch,” you whisper.

His brows flick up. That’s the most emotion you’ve seen in him. Genuine emotion. He’s surprised.

“I don’t know about that,” he says, “I don’t know if you can handle that.”

“I can,” you raise your voice, “I want to.”

His nose flairs and his eyes go up to the ceiling, “I’d have to check with the others–”

“But if it’s just you–”

“Pet,” he says tersely and your ears whistle, “you don’t know what you’re asking for. It’s not just about what you’ll see. It’s dangerous. That night, you’ve never felt the way the moonlight fills your veins.”

You look away. Of course you haven’t, they won’t let you feel that. You are just their little minion. A thrall sworn to serve them.

“It’s not a no,” he says to your lack of response, “alright?”

You turn and grab your mug, “alright.”

You take the coffee and head back to the stairs. He’s watching you. You can always feel when he does that. You long for that sensation but at the moment, it only irks you. You deserve to see it happen.

You’ve been waiting years to see Alexis Clover get what’s coming.

🌕

The confusion is expected. They often awake slowly, bleary-eyed, and dazed. Some of them never reach clarity between moonfall. Lexi is silent, eyes open, staring at the wall. She should scream soon. Maybe when she notices you.

You grow impatient. You look up at the windows. It’s a bit early but you’re overeager. You’re not just waiting on the moon, you’re waiting for word from Steve. You haven’t seen him since the morning.

You pull the pocket knife out of your pocket and emerge from the shadows. Her green eyes dart over to you as you unfold the blade. Her gaze falls to the knife, silver gleaming back at her dangerously. The fear in her face contorts to spite.

“I always knew you were a freak,” she sneers.

You stand a foot away as you shift your posture. Your lips twitch and your brow arches without meaning to. You put your chin down as you watch her. She does remember. You knew it.

“Rat girl,” she barks those words that haunted the high school hallways every time you walked down them; the ones she coined herself. “So what is it? You’re going to murder me? You fucking weirdo?”

You don’t answer her. She taught you that. They only ever want a reaction. It doesn’t matter what you say, they’re too narcissistic to hear you. 

You grab the sleeve of her shirt as she winces. She tries to wiggle away but the robes keep her in place. Kraven taught you how to tie those knots. You slip the blade beneath the fabric and slowly slice along the seam.

“What are you doing?” She hisses, trying to jolt the chair but she can’t get any leverage. “Please, don’t hurt me,” her tone softens at once as the back of the silver blade grazes her skin, “please, you can untie me and let me go. I won’t tell anyone.”

You ignore her pleas. Those are expected too. Usually they mention a spouse or children or a job. They beg and they beg. It doesn’t affect you. No one ever cared what you had. No one ever loved you so why should they get to have what you don’t.

“Carmen,” she gasps, “please, Carmen knows I went with you. She’ll tell someone.”

You laugh and shake your head. You continue your intent task, cutting away her clothing a piece at a time. Some things don’t change, you think sourly. You’re still a plain little mouse compared to her. You hate that even now you’re jealous of her.

“Don’t you care? Don’t you care that people will know you’re a monster? They’ll find out.”

You keep your composure though you want to laugh in her face with glee. You’re not as low as her. You have a sense of grace she could never know. You remember her smug smirk as she dumped her latte on your uniform and called you trash. You mimic it as you rip away the layers of fabric.

“You’ll find out,” you back up, the remnants of her clothing heaped in your arm, “soon.”

You turn and dump her clothes in the rolling bin of scraps meant for the weekly bonfire. It’ll be burned after the moon, along with what’s left of her. You leave her shivering through her fruitless threats and name calling. You climb the stairs, slowing as you come down the walkway to your door.

Steve waits for you, hands in his pockets as he leans on the frame. You meet his eye, only for a second before focusing on the wall behind him. Another symptom of your former teenage angst, your inability to interact like a normal fucking human. Good thing he’s not quite that.

“You know her,” he doesn’t ask, it’s a statement. You’re not surprised he was listening. Even if he wasn’t out there, he probably could’ve heard it all. “That’s… bold.”

“I don’t know her. I remember her,” you correct him.

He hums and brings a hand up to his chin. He taps along his cheek as he thinks. He peers up and down the hallway, then back at you.

“Can’t find the others. Not enough time to go out searching,” he says, “so it looks like it’s just you and me.”

You nod, “oh?”

“The other’s can handle themselves,” he scoffs, “I’m not worried.” He steps forward and you have to fight not to back away. That’s always your instinct, to keep distance, not just from him, from everyone. “So why don’t you keep me company?”

You look at him, eyes blazing as your forehead furrows. You don’t want to say it aloud. You still fear hearing the answer.

“Keep your silver on,” he hovers his hand before the crescent necklace by your collar, retracting his hand quickly, “tuck some wolfsbane in your sock and don’t make a noise…” he instead caress your cheek, “my hunger can get the best of me.”

He pulls away and passes you, brushing closely. You stay as you are, standing stiffly as you listen to his retreat, smiling to yourself. You don’t look back until you hear his door open and shut. He gets a bit more touchy feely during this time. Until the bloodlust is sated.

🌕

Steve goes over the plan. He can’t see you. That’s his one rule. You have the wolfsbane in both socks and your silver necklace on your neck. He tells you to hide and not tell him where. You’re nervous, but more excited than afraid.

You’ve been imprinted. They aren’t supposed to hurt you but there’s an unpredictability laced into the moonlight. You stay above, on the second floor, climbing across one of the thick steel beams to watch from there. It should be safest there, and you’ll have a full view of the scene.

You sit shrouded in shadows, a blanket around you, watching Lexi’s shaking form. It’s colder than even the day before. Her pale skin is turning blue. She shivers and lets out a sob. She quit her screaming much earlier, quickly losing her energy.

“Please…” she pleads before calling out your name, “please let me–”

A shrill howl rises up in the night air. From somewhere outside, distance but close enough to hear. It frightens even you. You brace yourself against the upright shaft that holds the beam as she quivers in a fit of tears.

There’s something else. A scratching and scuffing. A bang and clang, followed by the creak of hinges. Heavy and hot breaths, slickened with slobber as they build in tempo. Shallow and frantic, as if unable to get enough air.

You see Steve lurk along the walkway, just a contorted silhouette as he lumbers to the top of the staircase. He lets out a thick growl and hack, falling against the railing, gripping it as he makes his descent, and collapsing at the bottom. 

Lexi sits up and turns her head. She can't see him as his hands hit the floor, as his fingers grow and his nails turn to long shanks. As the fur sprouts from him, thickening as his shoulders broaden and his spine curls. He sets his haunches and pushes himself to his feet, no paws, his snout rising with a soulwrenching howl.

You hug the beam and hold your breath. You pull a hand back to clutch your necklace. Steve sniffs at the air, hot puffs of steam clouding before his snout. Even in this form, you admire him. Dark, silky fur and shining silver eyes. He is forged in power.

Lexi whimpers as she can only hear him. She whines and cries out your name, begging still. Steve pants, huffing into rumbling growls as he circles her. She shrieks as she sees him and his snarls almost sound like laughter. He continues to walk around her, taunting her as he sniffs her bare skin.

He stops before her. You make yourself take a breath. Your mouth is dry and your ears are fuzzy. You feel dizzy at the moment turns surreal. It’s different seeing it. 

He leans in, pressing his nose to her stomach until she squirms and sobs. He drags it up to her chest, nuzzling her in a way that sparks a surge of envy. No, he is going to get rid of her. You are thankful for that.

He brings his paws up to her thighs. She whimpers, pushing her head back as she gulps loudly. He sinks his claws into her soft flesh and she screams. He runs his nose along her collar bone and brushes along her throat.

You see the outline of his fangs as he opens up and you suck in your cheeks, squeezing the silver crescent as his jaw snaps shut. The sudden gush of blood has you hypnotised. You blink, salivating as if you can taste her yourself.

The noise of his gnawing, of his beastly hunger, of the shredding of his claws in her flesh, mulches together in your mind. You cannot look away as the ropes fall away beneath the sharpness of teeth and claw alike. As he drags her from the chair and devours her throat until she can gasp and gurgle no more.

You raise your clutched fist to your mouth and press it to your lips, swallowing a scream of your own. Not quite fear, more adrenaline, you suppress the threatening eruption back into your stomach. You grin, you don’t know who deserves this more; you or her.

Steve licks his chops and throws his head up, letting out another blood-curdling cry. For a moment, you think he sees you as his eyes linger. You freeze and wiggle your foot, feeling the scratch of the wolfsbane in your sock. 

He moves away from her, tugging what’s left of her carcass to splay across the floor. He watches the shadows in the rafters as if presenting you the kill. He knows you, even when he doesn’t know himself. Or so you would like to believe. So you tell yourself so you don’t panic and fall to your doom.

🌕

Dawn approaches before you dare to come down from your perch. Steve is still down there, somewhere, but the moon is gone. You put your foot on the railing along the walkway and lower yourself onto even ground. You go down to the staircase and descend the spiral.

The smell of blood wafts in the air still. As you step onto the first floor, it permeates your nose. You nearly choke on the pungent flavour.

You hear a groan as you look around. Steve sits behind the couch, naked with only a shorn cushion in his lap. He’s a man again though a wolfish glint remains in his irises. You go to the sink and run the water, wetting a cloth before you go to him.

“Happy?” He asks, giving a scarlet smirk as you hold out the wet cloth.

“Sure,” you answer.

He’s watching you again. You don’t meet his eyes. He reaches up but does not take the cloth. He brings both hands to cradle your cheeks.

“You didn’t like it?” He asks.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You don’t say much,” he insists, “look at me.” Your eyes meet his in a heartbeat. By your pact, you cannot disobey him, “tell me… how you feel.”

You swallow and raise the cloth. You wipe away the blood crusting around his hairline. You clear your throat.

“Like you said, happy,” you answer. He drops his hands and lets you continue. You mop away the streaks along his upper face, into the endless red stain from nose down.

“Just happy?” He prompts.

You look him in the eye again. He can hear how your heart pounds. He must know.

“You’re real fucking sick,” he snickers, “you know that?”

“Yep,” you force out dryly. You know you’re not a good person but what other choice did life give you?

He’s quiet as you clean him. He puts his head back as you wipe down his neck, the tendons tensing and his throat bobbing. You feel a tickle along your knee.

“So fucking sick it’s hot,” he slithers, “stop.” He grabs your hand and moves it away from his neck. There are still patches of red all over his face, almost stained brown. “I want you to smell her one me when I fuck you.”

You squeeze the cloth and pause. You lean back on your heels and look him in the face. He smirks as he moves the pillow away from his lap.

“And I know you want it just like that,” he purrs as your heart flips. He’s definitely heard that.

He keeps a hold of your hand and tugs you closer. He pulls on you until you're right in front of him. He reaches and touches the front of your corduroys. 

“Take these off,” he commands and lets you go.

You wince as the demand zips up your spine. Your desire mingles with that eerie compulsion to serve. You drop the cloth and get to your feet. As you stand, you see Lexi’s barren ribcage. You feel a flood of heat inside of you.

You push down your pants, your panties twisting in the thick fabric. You step out of them and kick them across the floor. As you step closer to Steve, he groans.

“Socks, silver,” he mutters.

You retreat and undo the chain around your neck. You toss it to land on your pants and you strip off your boots and socks, hurling them away from you. You go to him again as he reaches up to guide you. He eases you down into his lap, rigid and twitching for you. The sight enlivens you.

He grabs himself, angling himself along your cunt. As his tip touches your folds, you let out an unwitting squeak. You grip his shoulders as he rubs himself against you, your desire slickening him. He prods at your entrance, framing your cunt with two fingers as he spreads your lips wide.

You hold your breath, temples pulsing, ears pounding. You let yourself down onto him, biting your lip as you ignore the scalding strain of his intrusion. You sink your nails into his muscles as he pushes on your hip. He grunts as he feels the brief moment of resistance and you cry out as you sink down completely.

You pant as you hang your head back. You see silver stars as your head thrums and your body shakes. You’re lost in the storm of pain and pleasure. It’s like an electric shock, both agonizing but awakening.

He drags his other hand up your stomach, thumb hooking under your sweater as he urges it up your torso. He reveals your chest and leans in, taking a nipple in his mouth. His tongue swirls around cloyingly.

His fingers glide back to your clit and rolls it firmly. You gasp and tilt your hips, letting out a yelp as zing rises from his touch. You rock again, encouraged by his groans as the rumble into your chest. You squeak as you take him, over and over, riding him slowly as you try to adjust to the feeling of him. Just to the idea of being filled with something.

His nips at your chest, your nipple hard as he suckles and teethes. He switches, taking the other in with a hungry hum. He keeps his fingers working against your bud as his other hand hooks around your back. He reaches to your neck and urges you closer. He lifts his head and nuzzles your neck.

You smell the blood on him. It enthralls you. His heat, his scent, his voice. It all roils around you as you feel ready to bubble over. That building pressure guides your motion. You’re desperate for the promise in his touch.

“You lied,” he snarls into the crook of your neck as you clasp the back of his head and buck against him.

“About what?” You breathe as your fingers weave through his thick locks.

You yelp as the world shifts and you’re suddenly floating over the floor. He puts you on your back as he gets to his knees, lowering himself over you, staying buried in you. He slides back to his tip and presses his nose to yours. His blue eyes bore down into you. Your gaze flits away instinctively.

“No, look at me,” he orders and your eyes snap back to his. He ruts, jolting you against the rug, “you didn’t tell me you’re a virgin.”

You gasp and suck in your lip. You curl your fingers into his shoulder as your other hand crawls up his stomach. You let your eyes wander down to watch his muscles constrict as he fucks you. You moan and tear your gaze back to his face.

“Not anymore,” you murmur.

He chuckles and leans down, puffing a hot breath along your cheek, “I know, pet, you were never innocent.”

#steve kemp #dark steve kemp #dark!steve kemp #steve kemp x reader #illuminate #au #werewolf au #fresh #fic #dark fic #dark!fic

[howlingday]

Jaune picks.Ruby up proceeds to use her like a laser cannon. And using his semblance to increase the power

First fresh ask of the set! Ah, I love it...

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

"RUBY!" Jaune grabbed and lifted the small girl off her feet and held her stiff against his hip. "Are you ready?!"

"Jaune, are you sure this will work?!" Ruby asked, worry creeping into a panic.

"I HAVE NO IDEA!" Jaune roared as he gripped her tummy and gave it a squeeze. With a squeak, her eyes blasted forward in divibe, silver light that blinded those on the battlefield that were non-Grimm, and destroyed everything else.

Cinder screamed as she fell to the ground, once proudly soaring like a mighty dragon above the combatants below her. As she crawled from her self-made crater, she was blasted until not an atom of Grimm was left within her body. She layed near motionless on the ground.

A beam of magical energy blasted across the field, striking Jaune in the chest. However, his immense aura simply recovered what little damage was done to him as he focused Ruby's gaze on the Queen Mother of All Things Grimm. He laughed as she wailed and tried to escape.

"I AM BULLETPROOF!" Jaune roared as he cackled, stepping over what little remains were left of the bane of humanity.

Two days later, there was a celebration for the heroes of Remnant. Sadly, Ruby wasn't able to enjoy the sights, as she was still on recovery from the worst dry-eye she'd ever experienced.

#rwby #my answers #ruby rose #jaune arc #cinder fall #salem #team fortress 2

[svnflower-writes]

rosekiller headcanons

I ADORE THEM AHHHHH

evan drives barty insane by talking shit regulus in french and barty hates it because he's nosy but can't understand a single word

evan calls him "the bane of my existence" and he either says it with so much adoration in his voice it makes reg and pandora want to throw up or he says it so seriously that they believe they lowkey hate each other. and then two minutes later he's pulled barty into a closet to make out.

evan has an insane amount of freckles and barty loves cupping his face in his hands and kissing him

barty has sooo many tattoos dedicated to him it's insane

ok the non-sexual intimacy guys it drives me insane- ok so as much as they like showing off, their best time spent together is their quiet days alone, cuddled on the couch or bed, whispering sweet-nothings into each other's ears and kissing each other's foreheads. they could literally talk for days on end they never get bored of each other's company. they're so soft when they're alone together but they would stab anyone else who saw that side of them.

also on that note, barty's love language is physical touch. this boy cannot go five minutes without running his fingers through evan's hair and tracing the freckles on his arms and mindlessly rubbing his back. this boy is so insane with the non-sexual intimacy

SO MANY PIERCINGS HOLY SHIT

these two bitches know how hot they are, and they make sure that everyone else do too. almost everyone at hogwarts has had crushes on them at some point

they're both jealous but evan is a different level of jealousy

make out on the kitchen counter couple

evan wants to be loved so bad. as in he wants serious princess treatment bc he's been ignored and neglected all his like. he doesn't believe that anyone could ever love him and he struggles immensely with self image

also evan is actually such a sweetheart you don't get it he can be mean but that's mostly bc of the image forced on him

barty has a good fashion sense but evan is a literal disaster

they don't fight. they just stare at each other in silence before the messy kissing starts.

#luc posts #luc writes #rosekiller #rosekiller headcanons #headcanons #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #evan and barty #barty and evan #barty x evan #evan x barty #marauders #marauders era #slytherin skittles #request

[alexanderlightweight]

Hi! I would love to see your version of Malec with the ridiculous amount of hidden weapons stored in various places on a person. The idea of Magnus undressing Alec & coming across a ludicrous amount of weapons, pleases me immensely. Then the idea of Magnus starting to wear weapons for Alec? Chef's kiss. Pretty please? Thank you!

it mostly follows along that vein and i hope you enjoy it

this is set in feral sweetness, like honeycomb

<3 lumine

-

There is the slightest hint of a smirk on Alexander’s face as he approaches and Magnus wonders at what his mischief his love is dabbling in tonight.

This is meant to be an auspicious eve and while Magnus knows Alexander won’t do anything to jeopardize the ritual, he still finds himself suspicious in the way where he expects Alexander is going to surprise him.

In good ways of course.

Alexander stops just before the alter and meets Magnus’ unglamoured eyes with amorous devotion.

“I surrender myself to Magnus Bane. That the protection and defense of my own life be offered to his own hand. That my weapons will now be used to defend him, to protect him from all enemies and dangers.”

Alexander had told Magnus that he won’t be summoning any of his weapons during the ceremony.

No, he will wear them and offer them with his own hand and deed.

Now, standing before the witnesses gathered it’s clear that Alexander isn’t wearing clothes made of fine silk and cottons and linens.

Alexander is wearing the very finest of his hunting gear.

The leather is sleek and it ripples as the glow of floating golden lanterns dapples it with light. Magnus has only seen Alexander dressed like this once before and it was when his darling had been called through portals to a rift across the world. The buckles are dark, made of dark metals to better blend into the shadows.

Knee high boots made of soft but durable demon hide that are as dark as ichor and button even as they curve to his calves perfectly.

Alexander stands before them all and slowly takes off his jacket and Magnus loses his breath in delight even as he waves away those arounds concern at seeing Alexander’s weapons.

The quiver and bow are already laid out on the alter and two rows of throwing daggers follow along with a sword from each thigh.

For a moment Magnus thinks that’s it, and then Alexander is uncoiling a bullwhip from his waist and bending to pull out two small daggers from his left boot and a row of long thin needles from his right. The thin bands of metal around his wrist turn out to be an adamas garrote and there is a hint of a smirk on Alexander’s cheeks as he pulls out a set of adamas-plated knuckles with little spikes on them from an extra strap on his thigh holsters.

Likewise are a pair of fingerless gloves with small plates of adamas sewn across the knuckles.

Then Alexander begins unbuckling a harness from his back.

It holds eight more throwing knives and another hilt that tucks itself into the hollow of Alec’s back. As if that weren’t enough — because it is and Magnus is wondering how Alexander runs with this much weight even with the trans-formative properties of adamas — and then Alexander is laying out what is clearly an adamas lockpick set.

After that he’s not nearly as surprised as he should be when it turns out there is an expandable staff of adamas attached to Alexander’s quiver. Or that the bow and drawstring itself are also created from runed adamas.

There is a moment there when Magnus is sure that they’re done, and then Alexander also sets down his stele and then goes to take off his shoes.

“Darling, surely you don’t have more knives in there?” Magnus murmurs, quiet and trying for humor but truly he’s too baffled. It was strange enough to see Alexander have as many weapons as needed just by a thought, it’s almost worse watching him shed weapons as if they are a second skin and he a molting snake.

“No, I got all of those.” Alexander assures him with a soft smile that the closest of the witnessing warlocks seems shocked by. Magnus can understand as Alexander’s ardor turns his face gentle and besotted. “But my boots are adamas tipped and the soles are lined with spikes. Considering I’ve kicked through a demons chest before, I think they probably count as weapons.”

“By all means—” Magnus murmurs even though he’s now aching to taste the calluses of Alexander’s training against his tongue and feel the evidence of Alexander’s competency beneath his hands.

It’s even sweeter, realizing that Alexander purposefully strapped on so many weapons with the understanding that he was offering them all up in defense of Magnus.

Next is a small blowdart and pouch and finally, Alexander sets down his stele.

There is a telling gleam to his gaze and Magnus knows that despite the show of weaponry, this still isn’t the whole of what Alexander is capable of. However it’s enough to honor Magnus and Magnus understands the desire to keep behind a few secrets. Especially as he does the same.

“Someday I’m going to disarm you myself.” Magnus promises quietly and the only sign that Alexander’s heard and likes the vow is the tight bob of his throat as he swallows.

It’s a small victory in of itself and Magnus brushes a kiss against Alexander’s cheek even as he steps forward to make a show of accepting the small armory offered.

#lumine writes #writing wednesdays #writing wednesday #feral sweetness #malec #shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood

[artinclined-jointheartside]

As mentioned, After the End now officially has a cover!

Took me forever and I am immensely happy with how it came out!

And last but not least, the lovely tree in the back that the fam and their bane is hiding, lol

#TOH #the owl house #owl house #raeda #aladarius/oc #eda clawthorne #raine whispers #alador blight #darius deamonne #terra snapdragon #emperor belos #fanart #digital art #fanfic #Ao3 fanfic #after the end #join the art side #sheyconyamo

[iwannabejustlikethewind]

Hear me out… TMA entities x IDV. Like if the IDV characters were avatars of them. Focusing mainly on survivors, but I threw a few hunters in for good measure.

The Buried would be Andrew. I mean it’s perfect really. His whole thing is going underground, and he even has the Claustrophobia trait. Norton could also work, as he did bury all those miners in the cave and was under immense financial hardship. I think he’d be a victim of the Buried more so though.

The Corruption I feel would best be portrayed by Melly. Since she loves bees, she could be a Flesh Hive for them. And her unhealthy relationship with her husband could also add to the whole corruption thing.

The Dark is one I’m a little iffy on, but could be a couple characters IMO. I could see Jack, Ann, Sangria, or maybe Nightmare? Like all of them vaguely have dark themed powers, but not specifically The Dark level stuff. So idk.

What immediately comes to mind for The Desolation is Emma and Leo, for obvious reasons. Those being Emma burning Kreacher alive and Leo’s entire life being destroyed + dying in his factory fire. I see Emma more so an Avatar, and I feel like Leo would be more of a victim of it. Like Emma saw what happened to Leo and was drawn to the Desolation. Philippe also could be an easy one, as he’s all waxy and fire-y.

The End is quite clearly Aesop. His obsession with death is the perfect complement to The End. No further notes.

The Eye is a pretty general one, so I think it could match Orpheus, Alice, Helena, Keigan,and Eli. Orpheus and Alice are like the main character kinda of IDV, so it makes sense for them to be The Eye. Also they always wants to solve mysteries and learn more about the manor, even if it hurts them. Then, Helena is just super smart, so it’s practically a given she’d be Eye. Kiegan’s power is also pretty similar to the Eye, observing survivors and storing the information, and her whole record keeping thing. Also Eli and Helena I think would just be aesthetically interesting. Like you see the vision right?

I honestly think there isn’t a character that would match The Flesh. There’s not really any body horror in IDV, so there nobody to match. Maybe Percy, but he’s not really a good match

The Hunt would match well with Naib, as his whole life is pretty much finding and killing people. I could see an argument for Bane, but I’m not fully sold on it.

The Lonely is another one I’m not sure about. Jack is foggy yeah, but not particularly lonely.

The Slaughter is another one I think Naib could belong to, being a mercenary and all. Martha also seems like a good candidate, but I’m not sure she really fits the violence. Other than that, I think that a lot of the hunters could match the Slaughter a little but I’m not sure.

Though I don’t think she’s looks wise very The Spiral-like, Yidrah would very much fit the Distortion. She causes people to have dreams and stuff, so that could easily transfer to illusions. Also, I think Emil would be a victim of the Spiral possibly, because of his very fragile mental state.

For the Stranger, firstly, I think most of the Hullabaloo cast would be part of it simply because they are circus people. Maybe Margaretha would be the Nikolai stand-in, idk. Either way, I also think Matthias would be part of the Stranger, because of his whole puppeteering thing and because Louis is just too uncanny valley not to be. Anne I feel could be a victim of the Stranger if not an Avatar. Perhaps she’s a witness to one of her toys being creepy or she becomes a Not-Them, but idk.

For The Vast, I think Charles is ultimately the best choice, if only because of his connection to the sky. Not much else to say about it. Maybe Anne also because of her connection to flying, but that’s very loose. Grace could also be a candidate, as deep water is another manifestation of The Vast.

The Web is pretty obviously Violetta, are because spider. I also see Matthias, because of the whole puppeteering thing.

The Extinction would best be portrayed probably by Bonbon, just because he’s the only ‘computer’ thing in IDV.

#this came to me in a dream #/hj #identity v #Idv #the magnus archives #tma podcast #my mind is a whip of madness #totally didn’t mistake Aesop for Edgar for like weeks and didn’t notice..

[little-tyrant-gortash]

The End

Pairing: fem!Tav x Enver Gortash

Tags: Character Death, Slavery, Sexual Slavery, Blood and Injury, Blood, Injury

Desc.: I still have the Gortash brainrot and I wanted something evil. 👉👈 I know, I know, I know where the door is, I'll see myself out, now. 😂

Word count: 1,146

AO3 here.

You were defeated.

As Enver Gortash towered over you, and you watched how the blood dripped from your mouth and nose on the marble floor, as your vision blurred and darkened - you knew it was over.

You lost.

With whatever defiance you had left after you've witnessed your friends - your companions you loved dearly - die ahead of you... you mustered it. You would be teeth and claw to the end; until the final blow hit you in the face. You would hold onto whatever courage and arrogance you still had left. The last sentence you screamed echoed down the halls and still rang in your ears-

"Astarion! No!"

-before the vampire was caught by an exploding bolt through his heart and turned to ash in a blink. You couldn't process it, not yet. Your lover who deserved to finally be alive and safe, who had his revenge on Cazador, who remained a spawn because you asked, despite the fact how much he wanted to ascend - he was no more because of you.

You knew Gale fell, too, because the shield he'd summoned to protect you vanished, and you heard his broken whisper-

"No, I cannnot die-"

-before he went silent. You knew Karlach was dead - her shouts and grunts went silent a few minutes ago, after a horrifying crack. You didn't dare to check what body part she got shattered. Her chest or her head - both would be equally terrifying.

In the sudden, deafening silence, only your pathetic fight for every breath and the sound of your blood hitting the floor, forming a puddle under you, remained.

You had several broken bones. Ribs, legs, your left arm. You gave the fight your all, as always, and it wasn't enough. You were absolutely unprepared for Bane's Chosen, you realised it too late.

The Tyrant crushed you, as if you were an ant under his boot.

His boot. The red devil on his boot. Your eyes, with a great effort, focused. It was just in front of you, both of them, just a few inches away from the puddle of your blood. He towered over you and probably found immense pleasure in the sight of you as you tried to catch your breath.

You raised your head slowly, in order to meet his eyes. Gortash looked and felt impossibly tall and mighty from your spot on the floor, you had to bend your neck all the way back to make eye contact with him. And while you were drenched in blood, Enver looked impeccable. He smiled at you. For some reason, his smile was unsettling you; sending warnings into your brain to run for your life.

But you couldn't. He took all of your chances to do that. The throbbing, sharp pain in your legs was unbearable. You wanted to pass out, to die, to be free from all the pain he inflicted upon you.

And he still said nothing. Just smiled.

It was even worse than any degrading words he could've conjured. He could've insulted your intelligence for turning against him; your weaknesses he exploited; the fact that you were alone now, because he surely gave the order to his lackeys to attack your camp to take care of the rest of your friends.

He took everything from you.

"What are you waiting for?" You didn't realise tears were rolling down your cheeks until you attempted to speak. You sobbed. And your body hurt even more. What a pathetic show, you briefly wondered why he kept watching. "Kill me."

Gortash tilted his head at your words as he watched you cry. As if he had a different plan in his mind. His mere thoughtful expression made shivers crawl up your spine.

"We could've been allies", he sighed theatrically as he shifted the crossbow to give it to one of his guards who silently took it from him. "Equals. You could've ruled with me. We would've been glorious."

You took a deep breath. Bright spots flashed in your vision, you were close to fainting.

"Shut the fuck up Gortash, and kill me already!"

There was a brief moment when you thought he'd do it. The way his eyes flashed for a split second - you knew this man was dangerous, but he hadn't showed enough of that side of his for you to know how much exactly. And that was your undoing.

"No."

He leaned down to grab your chin in his clawed right hand. His golden nails dug deep into your skin and flesh, and your eyes widened when you realised that you were wrong all along. You still had something to lose. Your choice to die. Your only path to be free from him and his design.

"I wanted to share it with you from the moment I set my eyes on you for the first time through one of my scrying eyes. I've watched you cut through all obstacles on your way here, to me, and I admired your strength and enthusiasm. I'll admit, I thought the Shadow-Cursed lands took you, but I was delighted to find out that you survived. You proved your strength to me a thousand times. And then, and then! You got rid of both of Ketheric and Orin for me. You've done so much more for me than I ever hoped you would. Thank you."

You spat him right in the face. You couldn't believe you just did that.

Your spit was mixed with blood, drawing a glistening crimson line across his face. He snarled at you and his fingers painfully tigthened on your jaw, the tips of his claws almost digging right down to your bone.

"I will not kill you", he growled as he pulled your face closer to his own, his nose almost touching yours. Your muscles strained as he forced you, every inch of your body silently screamed from the agony. "After the final steps of my plan, you will be my loyal little pet." You could feel your heart sink to the level of your stomach at this promise. "You will warm my bed, and you will obey me, no matter what I tell you to do."

"Never!"

You could've sounded much more convincing, but your voice was shaking with fear of your inevitable future he had in store for you. Gortash laughed quietly as he let go of your jaw and rose to his full height.

"I will break you in sooner than you think", his eerie promise made you shiver. He was still looking in your eyes as he gave his orders to his guards. "Heal her and clean her up. Put a spell blocking collar on her; we wouldn't want her to escape, now."

"You're a monster!" You wanted to scream, but all you could do was a pathetic whimper.

"Don't be so harsh, my dear. I will take good care of you."

#little tyrant [enver gortash] #Archduke Enver Gortash #Enver Gortash #Lord Enver Gortash #Tav #Gortash x Tav #Tavtash #bg3 #bg 3 #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #oneshot

[the-art-block]

*kicking my feet like I'm reading a love letter as I take in the amazing lore*

Hi! Sorry to bother, but as you know I'm obsessed with Moonrise information. What are their views on Kindred Sorcery? How do they see blood magic, Thinblood alchemy, and necromancy? Do they have different views than what is widely accepted amongst "common" Kindred society? Thank you as always for your time. 💖

A very juicy question indeed!!

I do of course love to babble endlessly about the Moonrise Nation 🥰 Passion projects like these are so much fun to share 💙💙💙

As a small preface for this answer, it is important to keep in mind that while I ultimately wanted each clan to have some kind of representation in the pre-colonial Kindred lore, some clans were simply not present on the continent before a certain time period.

Folks like the Setites, Banu Haqium, Ravnos, Tremere, and Salubri only arrived in number post-colonization. Prior to the massive arrival of immigrant settlers, these clans may have been represented by singular Kindred in any given region, as the descendants of long-forgotten migrants from the other parts of the ancient world. (I standby that Kindred have no reason to stay in one place if they want to travel the world, and as long as they can secure safe passage during the daytimes, no distance is unmanageable. Humans have been crossing oceans and mountains and polar regions for thousands and thousands of years. Who is to say that the odd Setite or Ravnos traveler didn't make it across the Bering Sea Land Bridge strapped to a litter??) The Hecata in general were present in ancient times, but the Giovanni specifically only arrived after the settlement of the East Coast began. Thin Bloods are a relatively modern phenomenon, so the old tradition has little to say on the matter of Alchemy.

That said, Blood Sorcery and Oblivion were present in the indigenous Kindred population by way of Caitiffs.

This ended up being quite long so I'll hide it under this cut like a cheeky fucker

Clan Everything | Caitiffs

The creation myth of the indigenous American Kindred tells that each of the progenitor vampires learned their inherent Disciplines from three worldly spirits.

Caitiffs, while exceedingly rare in the old days, were still a quantifiable group of Kindred. It was believed that a newly Embraced Childe had the chance to become a Caitiff if they were abandoned by their Sire before waking. Rather than inherit the knowledge of power belonging to their makers, these orphaned Kindred would instead be found by three random spirits of the world, who would then offer their gifts as consolation to the forgotten newborn. The teachers of power would learn these orphans by name and follow them through their lives, happy to teach any lesson the Kindred was curious about.

Clan "Everything" because there were no limits.

While modern Kindred lore understands that Caitiffs are born without a Bane, the ancient American tradition states that their Bane is, in fact, their lack of a heritage. While most Childer would have a Sire with them their whole lives to guide, teach, and protect them, Caitiffs were often left without. In a society where an individual's Sireage was key to understanding their identity and their place in the order of things, not having a connection to blood kin made one somewhat untrustworthy, unknowable, and unpredictable. While Caitiffs were rarely fully excised from Kindred circles, they did not enjoy the same entwined lives as those with definitive clans, and were never permitted to Embrace. While most other undead sought safety in the arms of their (statistically very few) neighbors, the life of a clanless vampire could be a cruel, dangerous, and short one.

Despite the raw deal of having little social security, Caitiffs were the ones most often in possession of vampiric sorceries. If a member of Clan Everything was so fortunate to be pitied by the right spirits, they would have immense utility to offer. This singular advantage afforded many an orphan vamp a safe Haven, clean vessels, and secure standing in their local communities.

A Fox's Deal | Blood Sorcery

The heat and light of a fire in the dark is, in equal measure, blessing and curse to the undead. That was the Creator's intent. Without the life given to the world by fire, even the dead will die again. The discerning teacher Fox knew that the balance between thriving and starving was always teetering, and took mercy on his students. As other spirits once did for the living, so he did for the dead.

The overwhelming majority of sorcerers were unclaimed orphans with no Sire, no clan, no stories to learn from. This naturally meant that there were no teachers, and most magic was self-taught... or perhaps it was taught by a sly prankster in red furs?

Known in most stories for being foolhardy and unwitting scholars, it was supposedly common to find your way to a sorcerer by the craters and scorch marks that marred their territories. In a world without Chantry or temple, each sorcerer boasted a bespoke and jury-rigged collection of rituals that only they knew the full nuances to.

Sorcerers that leveraged their unique abilities for a place in Kindred society were wholly reluctant to share either the gift or the secrets of their spellcasting, and kept their processes and formulae hidden even from other sorcerers. A shrewdness decidedly taught to them by Fox.

Whispers in the Water | Oblivion

It has long been understood by humankind that deep, dark waters are no place for them. For millennia since the first thought, fear of the abyss has remained. That long and darkening horizon over endless waters has been called a hell, an afterlife, and the realm of Gods for as long as man's eyes have glanced across them. The same is true in ancient America, where large bodies of water were often said to be the dominion of evil spirits and the beds of unhappy gods.

For the intrepid undead, such realms were vaults of learning which hid stories long-forgotten. Tapping into such knowledge was known to change a person, living or not - but the bounty to be gained was worth the currency of body and soul alike.

Each time Bullhead took on a new student, she looked into the pit where their spirit once was and dictated what lessons to pass on to them.

On one fin, she held the key to the past. The world turned on a wheel of knowledge, on lessons learned by the aging brains inside the skulls of elders. Sometimes, whole mortal lives would vanish with no opportunity to pass on what they'd learned. The magics that could bring these departed souls back was regarded as a most sacred and most essential tool to preserving wisdom beyond the ken of even the immortal Promiskeepers.

On the other fin, she held a shadow. The waters of the Earth were fury given form, crashing against the realm of man and good spirits like a raving giant. The grip of the current and the hunger of the depths was known on every shore and riverbed - where the dwellings of unholy things ground against the lands of the living. Any warrior capable of pulling these demons from water would have little to fear from either Kine or Kindred, and the time between wars was getting shorter and shorter each year. In her mercy, the spirit filled the void in her most ferocious students with the salt of sea and the ice of river.

The Light of Dawn | Thin Blood Alchemy

Settler Kindred make claims of the curse of vampirism originating with some gent in a Hebrew myth. The story says that God passed down a punishment on this murderer for his acts of violence and malice, and that he walked the Earth for all time in his misery - forever barred from Heaven.

For the people that lived on the continent for thousands of years before the events of the Bible, Caine is no one. Though the detail of the curse originating from the Creator remains, there was no single ancestor, but a dozen. Maybe even more, as modern theorists say.

As this story goes, a starving tribe of people committed atrocities in their pursuit to sustain themselves. So great were these crimes that the tribe was cursed, every man, woman, and child was exiled from the good way and forced to wallow in their guilt for all eternity...

But the modern nights show us that perhaps His fury is not infinite. The coming of a new age rides on the shoulders of Kindred half-born from mortals half-killed. To most Kindred philosophy today, this is a sign of some apocalypse or another, but for the Elders of the long-gone courts, this is a sign that the Creator's hatred is easing. The curse, at last, is lifting.

The magic they wield is no different. Creation in its most simplistic form, offered to those who have been nearly devoured. These are the miracles of the Creator's mercy, a new vision for redemption that must be celebrated and protected.

Honoring the Stories | The Moonrise Nation

The modern conglomerate calling itself the Moonrise Nation is a product of its time. A stalwart but young movement eager to reclaim and preserve all manner of lost things from the edge of extinction - from knowledge, to tradition, to blood.

Though much has been lost with no hope of recovery, just as much still remains. Knowledge of how the old clans dealt with the magics of the undead informs how the modern Nation conducts its own magics.

At time of writing, the presence of Blood Sorcery and Oblivion is still rare within the faction. Efforts have been launched to court and secure teachers, and thusfar they have gained the aid of the Tremere Ishkode (@syntheticmortal), the Giovanni Bartolo Tall-House, and the Lasombra Xhuuya. Reclamation of their personal traditions from pre-colonial Kindred has proven a very difficult task, but the combined recollections of the Elders Five-Trout, Atena:ti, and Beadmaker have produced some promising results so far!

Thin Blood Alchemy is, ironically, in heavier use than the other more common sorceries, as the number of Thin Bloods present in the Nation surpasses those of the more inherently magical clans.

-

SORRY that was a lot hahahah

#vtm #vampire: the masquerade #moonrise nation

[rinwellisathing]

You're Awful, I Love You: Part 12

Enver Gortash/Trans male Tiefling Durge

It was around dusk again when Sentry realized he had no idea where it was he was supposed to meet with Gortash for this meeting (date?). Meeting. With that in mind, however, he reassured himself once again, he was Bhaal's own flesh and blood. Gortash was a politician who Bane happened to like. It was apparent to anyone who really held the power here, no matter what the Tyrant wanted to pretend. So, Sentry decided to see what the upper city had to offer as he milled about, assuming some twitchy underling would come looking for him if he failed to arrive. He had been to every bookshop and street corner book seller in the lower city multiple times a week, he wondered what there was to be had where the rich wandered. He frowned and wrinkled his nose as he quickly realized the street corner hawkers who sold him most of his beloved copper dreadfuls were no where to be found up here. “Huh...the patriars are too good for vampires and cut throats, are they? Disappointing, that.” Eventually, he stepped into a rather posh looking upscale book shop and began to browse. Romances mostly, and so many dry history books on politicians and rulers and not a single one with any details of the various madnesses and maladies afflicting them. Sanitized for a pampered public. He made a mental note that thus far, the upper city was vastly overrated. He looked over his shoulder and, noticing no employee was breathing down his neck, or even paying him any mind, he picked up a few biographies he was familiar with and began adding some notes of his own in a red artist's graphite he'd been carrying in case he got bored. “Let the patriars know they've got more in common with the mad than with the gods. It's a valuable lesson to learn.” He smirked as he was just about to finish his last note, pausing briefly as he sensed someone behind him, turning abruptly. “Oh. Didn't think you'd come looking for me yourself, my lord.” The title had a hint of playful teasing to it. “I assumed you would get lost up here, after all, it isn't your usual hunting ground, my dear Sentry.” Gortash looked with mild amusements at the notations Sentry had been finishing up. “Hmm...Intriguing bit if trivia you've written there, so you're fond of history?”

“I am.” Sentry replied. “Well, at least much more than this lot seems to be. Who are they trying to fool?” “Themselves, mostly.” Gortash smirked, placing a hand on Sentry's shoulder and guiding him out of the shop. “You see, these pampered patriars wish to view themselves as good people, civilized people. They want to pretend that by ruling over the under class, they are protecting them, giving them a semblance of order, and meanwhile they've made half the orphans they're housing by letting plague, poverty, and famine run rampant, the fine universities and schools they found benefit their children almost exclusively, and the 'donations' to The Flaming Fist are all bribes to look the other way, every single one of them. But as long as they write in their little memoirs that it was all for the sake of altruism, they can sleep better at night.” “And you're some revolutionary? You want to help the poor? I'm supposed to believe that?” Sentry snorted, quirking a brow and folding his arms. “By the gods, no. As I just told you, only a fool would believe those things.” Gortash nearly laughed outloud as he stood by Sentry's side. “No. I mean to put these patriars in their place. To rule over them the way they rule over others. To bring true order, a true rule to this city....And I think you can help me. As you said, you're a clever man and you're terribly creative.” The comment caught Sentry off guard and he could not keep from blushing. “I see. On the note of creativity, I brought you something, a gift. I will give it to you when we're a little more alone. I think you'll appreciate it.” He grinned, sharp teeth glinting. “Then I look forward to it immensely. But for now, are you hungry?” Enver once again took Sentry by the arm and was leading him further into the shopping district, into a throng of the very people they both detested so much. Sentry tensed a bit at the sight of the upper city taverns, fighting the instinct to grab his tail tightly and twist nervously. He had the distinct feeling these were the kinds of places a tiefling wasn't exactly welcome. Still, to his surprise it seemed that as long as he was on the arm of his companion, no one looked twice. A contented smile played across Sentry's lips. Tomi was right. Enver Gortash was useful. The young artist counted several unique features and parts that would make amazing materials for his work, pieces he would never have access to without being able to move practically unnoticed through this part of the city. The thought intrigued him, it prompted him to play his role with a bit more feeling, to truly sell it. He leaned his head against Enver's shoulder, nuzzling against the material of his jacket. Even through the fabric he could practically hear the blood coursing through the human's veins like a soothing lullaby. “All of this is available to you, dear Sentry. I can give it to you. All you have to do is agree to a more formal alliance.” His jeweled fingers brushed through Sentry's pale hair, toying with the strands and sending a shiver of delight up the Bhaalspawn's back. So much blood. So many new materials. Sentry was barely aware of his body sliding into an overly plush seat at a dimly lit table. He completely failed to notice the purposely low candle light washing the booth red. His mind was alive with inspiration. Statues, paintings, sketches. A monument to all that his father was, no, a monument to all that he was. A jolt of pain snapped him out of it, a ringing in his ears and a splitting headache, a yank at his leash from father. A reminder 'you are nothing without me'.

Enver watched the young Tiefling, following his expressions and the way his eyes moved. He could sense some conflict behind those eyes, and at the same time, everything about Sentry set him apart from the other Bhaalspawn Gortash had read about or met. He was something more, something extraordinary, altogether unique. This young man could be a far more worthwhile ally than he had anticipated, and the challenge of earning his submission would be delicious.

The date began in a bit of a blur, food and drink ordered, a bit of small talk, the kind that serves to feel one's companion out, idle remarks about local gossip, weather, politics. When the food arrived, things opened up a bit more. “You know, one thing I never really understood?” Sentry began as he cut into a particularly rare piece of red meat. “So when I was little, right? Sweet meats. They were always offered to me by all of my adopted mom's friends and family and I was SO excited, I mean, stupidly excited...cause back with my birth family, eating was to survive and it never really tasted like anything. And so here I am and I'm thinking some kind of fancy piece of meat glazed in something and come to find...it's candy. Fucking candy. They meant candy the whole time.” He shook his head and sighed. “But then! My first month with my new family, my butler is fixing dinner and he says it's 'sweet breads' so now I'm rolling my eyes thinking 'Really? Because I'm young you think I want a cinnamon roll for dinner?'...and he wheels out a tray of brains! I mean, granted they were amazing, probably some of the best things I ever ate, but the phrasing is ridiculous.” Gortash laughed and shook his head. “I can understand your confusion. But trust me, it's far better than growing up in a household where everything on the banquet table looks amazing but turns out to be rotted the moment you reach for it. I'll take ridiculous, misleading names over illusory banquets any day.” “What, did you go to some kind of wizard school?” Sentry asked, taking a sip of wine. “You....could say that, I suppose.” Enver smiled winningly at Sentry, though the tiefling noted that the smile didn't reach his eyes, the expression was one Sentry was accustomed to using himself. Hiding secrets, the kind that hurt. “Anyway, the um...the gift I have for you...”Sentry recovered. “Remember when I painted your portrait? I told you you were my muse now, that doing that painting inspired me...” “I remember.” The Tyrant nodded. To his credit, no blush crossed his face and no outward hint betrayed the arousal he felt recalling that rough kiss the morning the portrait had been finished. “Did you know I have a statue garden too?” Sentry asked with a coy little grin. “I'd heard of your sculptures, but I've never had the privilege of seeing one in person.” Gortash took a long drink from his glass. “Well, tonight you will.” Sentry leaned in just a bit. Anyone else looking over might have found a mouth full of sharp teeth stained slightly red incredibly unsettling, but the man across from Sentry only felt even more intense desire to retire somewhere private with his companion. “I think you'll like it a lot.”

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #tiefling #oc #durge #dark urge #fanfic #writing #gortash x durge #durgetash #lord enver gortash #enver gortash

[valeskafics]

"The Bane Of My Existence" (Aemond Targaryen x Martell!Reader, Side!Aegon Targaryen x Martell!Reader) - Chapter Five: The Object Of All My Desires

Series Masterlist HERE.

Summary: Aemond is rattled by the princess's hasty nuptial plans.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader

Word Count: 3,782 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

“Yes. I do. I hate you,” you add after a second, “I am a princess.”

Aemond whispers against your lips, “And your heart is with my brother.”

You agree, “And my heart is with your brother,” you stare up at him before pressing your hands to his chest.

Aemond feels his breath nearly stop, “What are you doing?”

“Say you do not care for me,” you demand, “Tell me you feel nothing, and I will walk away.”

Aemond lets out a deep exhale, “I feel,” he closes his eye and leans in slightly, your lips less than an inch apart, “I feel-“

Aemond slams his lips against yours, making you moan into his mouth. His hands move to grip your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him. He pushes you against the bookshelf, pinning your arms above your head-

You and Aemond startle awake at the same time, on opposite ends of the castle. Having had very similar dreams of what may have happened had Larra not interrupted you.

Your bed is drenched in sweat and he is the only thing that is on your mind.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you are about to do.

The wedding you are about to plan.

Your wedding to his brother.

You enter the room where he, your father, his mother, Larra, and Arron sit. And, of course, Aemond.

“Princess,” Queen Alicent smiles at you kindly, “We thought perhaps you'd not be joining us. Your brother mentioned you looked a bit peckish after the carriage ride back.”

You shake your head, “No, Your Majesty. Nothing could keep me from my groom, your lovely son.”

Aegon beams and moves to kiss your cheek. You feel Aemond’s gaze on you all the while as discussion of the wedding begins. You take a seat beside Aegon and allow his mother and Larra to take the reins on the discussion.

“I believe a modest family affair would be most fitting,” Larra smiles, “Perhaps back in Starfall.”

Your father shakes his head, “In Starfall? No, that will not do. You must have it here, in Sunspear, where Y/N is from. In fact, I shall host the nuptials myself.”

“That is most generous, Father,” you interject, “But not at all necessary!”

Your father waves off your concern. You feel a pit in your stomach at the thought of your impending wedding. When you look up and meet Aemond’s gaze, you feel as though you might faint.

Instead, you turn to Aegon, telling him that you need to visit with your septa and that you leave all the important decisions to him. He looks at you, surprised, but nods, wishing you a good day.

Later, you sit in your father’s solar, surrounded by your siblings. You stare at your wedding dress. Unhappy. Unimpressed. Dissatisfied.

“There is plenty of time to adjust it to your liking,” Aliandra rests a hand on your shoulder, “The wedding is not for another month.”

“There is still much to do,” Larra retorts, brushing her off.

“Will Prince Aegon live with us?” Quentyn asks you.

Larra gives you a knowing look as you reply, “Indeed. After the wedding, we will split our time between the Sunspear and King’s Landing,” you smile at him, pinching his cheek, “He'll be the lord of the house and responsible for you all.”

"May the Seven help him,” Qyle teases, making you elbow him.

Arron snickers at the sight of the two of you.

“What about the prince’s brother?” Aliandra looks at you, curious.

You nearly feel your heart stop.

“What about him?”

“Will he come to live with us, too?” Qyle asks, smirking at you.

You frown to yourself, recalling Aemond’s words. He is marrying that Baratheon girl. Becoming the Lord of Storm’s End. After the wedding, you will likely never see him again.

It’s the best possible course, you know it. If he is far away from your sight, you will not desire him as you do.

But is that even far enough to put the One-Eyed Prince from your mind?

“Let me show you the cotton from the Vale.”

Aegon and Aemond stand side by side, looking at Aegon’s clothes for the wedding. Aegon turns and grins at his brother.

“We must find you something to wear too.”

Aemond shakes his head, “I have plenty of clothes.” 

This must be special,” Aegon insists, “After all, this wedding is as much your triumph as mine. Whatever you said to the princess at the Water Gardens, Aemond, clearly swayed her to accept my proposal.”

Aemond feels as though he cannot breathe. That moment with you… However fleeting it may have been… It has not left his mind once.

"I cannot claim credit,” Aemond mutters, attempting to hide his bitterness.

Aemond takes no notice, “I shall bestow it, all the same. It will be so exciting spending time in Dorne.”

“You must enjoy it without me, Aegon,” Aemond replies, patting Aegon on the shoulder, “Recall I am to set to leave for the Stormlands immediately after you wed.”

Aegon relents, but continues, “But you will return to visit, of course! And when my princess and I are blessed with children,” he chuckles, “You shall be their favorite uncle. Think of us all together as a family!”

Aegon continues on with his mother and sister to several other stores, while Aemond returns to the castle at Sunspear alone. He is surprised to see you, your septa, and an older man standing in the wing the Targaryens are being hosted in.

“My Princess?” Aemond questions, bowing.

“My Prince,” you mumble, giving him a quick curtsy in return, "This is the jeweler. We are here to have Prince Aegon’s ring altered to fit.

Aemond nods in recognition and chuckles softly, “My apologies, but my brother has not yet returned home.”

“Of course,” you nod, moving to leave, “We shall trouble you no further.”

As you turn to leave, the smith sees something in the solar the Targaryen family is using, eyeing it greedily, “Is that cake?”

Aemond raises an eyebrow, “It is indeed.”

“Lemon? I fancy a good lemon.” 

Aemond sees the opportunity to speak to you and takes it, entertaining the smith’s wishes, “Might I offer you some refreshment, Ser?”

The smith grins, “Brookes. Only if you insist. I mean, it would be churlish to refuse,” he turns to your septa, dismissing her, “Tea, three spoons of sugar, and perhaps some sandwiches too, thank you.”

You and Aemond sit beside each other, in dead silence. You can hear his every breath. And he can hear yours. You worry if he can hear the hastened pace of your heartbeat.

You speak after a moment, “It is fine weather we are having, is it not?”

Aemond gives you a dubious look, “You wish to speak to me of the weather?”

You snark at him, annoyed, “Is there another topic of conversation that'd be more appropriate?”

Aemond exhales sharply as he whispers so only you can hear, “There is nothing appropriate about what you're doing proceeding with this engagement.”

You remain stone-faced, impassive, “On the contrary, I believe it is the most proper outcome for all.”

Aemond turns to stare at you incredulously, “Oh? And what of everything that passed between us at the Water Gardens?”

You sigh and give him a hard glare, “Nothing passed between us. I am a lady.”

He laughs wryly, “Is that so? Need I remind you, My Lady, if anyone other than your cousin discovered us in the library that night, then we, too, would be obliged to wed.”

You cut him off, gritting your teeth, “Nothing happened,” you are silent for a moment before asking, “Would the two of us being obliged to marry be the outcome you desire?”

Aemond is silent for a moment. You wonder what in the world possessed you to ask such a thing.

“Of course not,” he whispers quietly.

You nod slowly, “Then let us both be glad we have avoided such an unthinkable fate.”

You can feel Aemond’s eye on you as you turn away from him. That gorgeous blue eye that makes it hard for you to concentrate on anything else.

Suddenly, Ser Brookes speaks, “I say, Prince Aemond do you and your brother happen to share riding gloves?

He looks at the man, confused, “Yes, on occasion.”

“We may use your finger to size the ring,” the smith says, getting up to walk toward where the two of you sit.

Aemond gapes at him, “Oh, I beg your pardon-”

“That shan't be necessary,” you insist as he removes the ring your father wore for his wedding from its case.

“Nonsense,” the smith chuckles, grabbing Aemond’s hand and pushing the ring onto it, “Thank you.”

For a moment, you lose yourself, admiring the way the ring looks on Aemond’s finger. His sturdy, calloused hands.

“It is a beautiful piece,” he murmurs, looking at you, seeing that your eyes have softened.

“My mother made it for my father,” you smile to yourself, still staring, “She went to a smithy and begged him to let her make a ring.”

Aemond absently thinks to himself how much that sounds like something you would do.

You spring away from Aemond when you hear someone clear their throat. You see Queen Alicent, her two eldest children beside her.

Aemond stutters, They came to, uh, alter the ring,” he glances at the smith, “Uh, Ser Brookes insisted.”

Aegon moves to stand beside you, “Are you feeling well, Princess?”

You nod, smiling at him, “Yes, thank you.”

Your eyes flit back to Aemond, despite your every effort not to look at him. And as always, he’s already looking at you.

That afternoon, Aemond watches as you and Aegon promenade together. He doesn’t understand why it hurts him so. It physically pains him to see the way his brother smiles at you, like you’re an angel.

That is when Clarisse approaches, “Prince Aemond. I wish to apologize for the tourney. Y/N did not wish to deceive you, I hope you know that.”

Across the way, Aegon and you watch Aemond and Clarisse. You know Clarisse does not like the man but it burns you up inside when he smiles at her.

“What a handsome couple they make.”

You turn to Aegon, surprised, “Pardon me?”

“Lady Clarisse and my brother,” he smiles at you, “I noticed that he was quite smitten with her the last time they met. Perhaps she will convince him to stay in Dorne, after all.”

You laugh airily, “He barely knows the lady.”

Aegon gives you a small smile, “Nor did I you, at first,” he gives you a quick kiss on the hand, “But love moves swiftly, does it not?”

Aegon asks if you would like to take a turn about the lake in one of the boats. You agree, eyes still on Aemond and Clarisse.

You’ve never felt this awful before, like something is clawing and gnawing at your stomach. You don’t like it.

“I had assumed you would remain in our country now that your brother is to be part of the Martell family,” Clarisse says as she and Aemond walk towards the docks.

“My brother will remain here. I shall journey back alone,” he says.

“An adventure, indeed.”

The two of them approach just as you and Aegon are about to come ashore.

“I see you are smiling, brother,” Aegon grins, “See the amusements Dorne has to offer.”

Aemond sighs, “My brother spares no opportunity to find reasons for me to stay,” he pauses, staring at the knot you are helping Aegon tie, “That knot will never hold.”

"It is perfectly adequate,” you glare at him.

He can’t help but stare into your eyes, the fire behind them setting his own heart ablaze, “Then I must question your nautical skills, My Princess. Allow me.”

Clarisse quickly moves to help you out of the boat while Aegon and Aemond tie it. She links arms with you and smiles. You smile back at her.

“I quite like the younger one for you,” she whispers, “You two have the same… Temperament.”

You give her a look, and just as you are about to respond, you see something white bounding up and jumping toward Aemond. It is Clarisse’s small hound, the one that she’s had since girlhood, and he has sent the brothers careening into the water. You and Clarisse, along with almost everyone else present, cannot help but burst into laughter at the sight of the two men, splashing for dear life.

“Oh my! Are you hurt?” Clarisse asks.

Aegon laughs, “Not at all! The water is a rather welcoming refreshment, is it not, Aemond?”

Aemond chuckles, lifting himself onto the dock. His shirt is completely soaked and you stare at him, though you know you should not.

“Refreshing indeed,” Clarisse smirks, nudging you, “Come now. It is not proper to stare.”

You slap her arm and walk off toward your family, cheeks burning as you think of how the wet fabric of Aemond’s shirt clung to the muscles of his chest-

Oh, gods, you don’t know how you’re going to get over this.

As you get ready for dinner that evening, you hear a knock on your chamber door. Your father calls out and asks if he may enter.

“Of course, Father. I will be finished in a moment. We shall not be late.”

He opens the door and moves to stand behind you in the mirror and sighs, “It is not that. I have been watching you all week. I,” he pauses before nodding to himself, “I told myself I would support your choice, but I must admit, I am finding it quite difficult to continue to stay silent.”

You raise an eyebrow, “You have been anything but silent.”

He moves to kneel beside you, resting his hand over yours, “This is your betrothal, Y/N. Your marriage. To the man that shall replace me as head of this household, might I add.”

“You question Prince Aegon's suitability for the role?”

He shakes his head, “I question the example you are setting for your siblings, marrying a man for whom you clearly hold no great tenderness or love.”

You groan, giving him an exasperated look, “Why will you not accept that the love match between you and Mother was the exception, not the rule?”

“Because I wish for you two to know the joy of an exceptional marriage!” he insists, following as you stand, “You should be excited to wed Aegon Targaryen, but for all I have seen, you act as if you are approaching the gallows instead. If this is not what you want, you must say something now, Y/N, before-”

“What I want is beside the point,” you cut him off.

“It happens all the time with young ladies,” your father suggests, "Swept up in the dizziness of receiving a proposal before the reality of marriage becomes clear. If you were to call off the engagement, no one would find fault with you. And you would not be dishonoring Prince Aegon in the slightest, releasing him from the obligation before any vows were exchanged.”

“He does not wish to end the engagement,” you shake your head.

“But does he know your true feelings on the matter?”

You cry out, “My feelings are of no concern. What matters is my responsibility, which has always been to wed.”

"My darling,” your father speaks softly, resting his hands on your trembling shoulders, “If you have doubts, do not simply set them aside. This is the most important choice you will ever make. And it would break my heart to see you spend the rest of your life in regret,” he adds, smiling sadly, “I dare say it would break your mother’s heart too.”

Aegon is sweet to you at dinner, as always. He is a good man. And you find yourself thinking that he deserves to be with someone who loves him as he loves them.

And with the way you feel when Aemond looks at you, you fear that you cannot be that person.

And so, after dinner, you meet Aemond in your father’s study and inform him of your plan to break the betrothal.

Aemond stares at you, aghast, “There shall be no plan. I do not understand,” he rubs at his forehead in frustration, “Why are you suggesting this? All along, you have been set on marrying my brother, despite my every objection, might I add, and now you intend to cast him aside. So, tell me, what has he done?”

You scowl, “He has done nothing! It is you! You have made this match impossible!”

He rolls his eyes at you, “But I am leaving for Storm’s End.”

“And it is not far enough,” you hiss at him, surprising him when you move closer, “Do you think that there is a corner of this Earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment?”

“Torment,” Aemond scoffs, moving closer toward you, so that your faces are so close that your breath intermingles, “It is you who torments me!”

You stare at him, “You are impossible! A scoundrel! You have been successful in your attempts to make me desire you and I hate you for it! You, Prince Aemond, are a rake!”

“I am an honorable man,” Aemond’s voice wavers, a sound you find impossibly seductive, “And you are a lady. A princess. A princess who is betrothed to my brother.”

“Do not speak to me of honor! I am indeed a lady. Of course my parents raised me to act with honor, but that honor is hanging by a thread that grows more precarious with every moment I spend in your presence. You,” you glare, “You are the bane of my existence, Aemond Targaryen,” your gaze flickers to his lips that are still so beautiful while set in a frown, betraying your true feelings, “And the object of all my desires.”

Aemond’s pupil is blown as he stares into your eyes. The air is electric, so charged that even the slightest movement could bring disaster. Or perhaps, the exact opposite.

“Say you don’t want me,” you whisper, pressing a hand to his cheek, prompting him to close his eye and lean into your touch, “Tell me you don’t desire me and I will walk away right now. And we shall never speak of this again.”

His chest is heaving and his voice comes as a faint whisper, “Night and day, I dream of you. And what I,” he breathes heavily before speaking again, “I did not ask for this. To be plagued by these feelings. Hiding from my brother. Being driven to distraction every time you enter the room.

You nod, “Then you agree. It is insupportable.”

“Impossible,” he whispers against your lips.

“If I wed your brother, it will bind me and you together for eternity. And I will spend every day of my marriage,” you meet his gaze again, “Wanting you, longing for you dreaming of you, dreading the day when my last thread of honor finally snaps. Is that the future that you want for us? For your brother?”

You hear Qyle calling out, looking for you. You reluctantly step away from Aemond, who seems pained at the motion. Pained at the thought of you moving away from him.

“I must go,” you whisper, running out of the room.

He stares after you, wishing he would not be so honorable. That he could chase after you and pull you into his arms and press his lips to yours.

When Aemond returns to the Targaryens’ solar, he sees Aegon, sitting and reading about wedding customs in Dorne.

“Do you not find the idea of marriage a burden?” Aemond asks, looking at him.

“What burden would it be to marry the person I love?”

Aemond’s eye widens in surprise, “You love her?”

Aegon sighs, “How could I not, Aemond? I want nothing more than to be her husband.”

The next morning, you go for a ride to clear your head. You are not all together shocked to find Aemond in the same place where you first met him.

“My Princess,” he murmurs, “I see you continue here with your morning rides.”

“I couldn't sleep,” you reply quietly.

“Nor could I,” Aemond whispers, “Have you decided what you will do?”

You nod, dismounting your horse, “Long have I wrestled with it, but I see no other option,” you sigh, “I will talk with Prince Aegon today and see my way to ending things,” you bite your lip and look at him, “It is the only way to ensure that the two of us can be rid of this impossible situation.”

The pair of you are silent for a long moment. You simply look at each other, morose, tired. Heartbroken.

“Once the engagement is over, our paths need never cross again,” you state, “It will be as if we had never met.”

Aemond shakes his head, “You cannot. You cannot do that.”

“Prince Aemond-”

"You cannot break my brother’s heart,” he states, his throat feeling as though it will close in on itself, “He is not a perfect person, nor a perfect brother. There are times when I’ve wished for nothing more than the worst of hardships to befall him. But now that I see how he loves you, I could not live with myself if I were to be the cause of this.”

You stare at him in total confusion, “I do not understand. You have been against this union from the start!”

“I was wrong!” Aemond snaps, looking at you, “I will not be the cause of either of us losing our honor any more than I can stand to see Aegon in pain. You once saw him as your perfect match. You will find your way to believing it again,” he pleads with you, “Please. Please, Y/N,” your breath catches at the way he says your name, “You must keep your word. You must marry my brother. You must marry him as soon as you can, because this feeling that plagues us so, it will pass,” he chokes on his words, “It will become tenable, it will become bearable, and soon enough, it will be as if we never felt it at all. Mere passion. It must because it has to.”

You stare at him, tears in your own eyes as you speak, “Very well. I shall see that the wedding shall take place as soon as possible.”

It is only when the two of you can no longer see each other that you allow yourselves to cry.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond fic #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond x reader #hotd fic #hotd x reader #house of the dragon fic #hotd #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #my writing #bane of my existence fic

[dangopango00]

COLLEGE BAND AU HEADCANONS

Legato x gn reader

It was pretty rude of me to just randomly put an au fic without explanation so heres the explanation bye still self indulgent; always will be i fear

more utc

- OK FIRST ABOUT HIM. He works for knives still but in this au his job is to cause vash suffering by 😭😭… outselling him??? Ridonkulous ik but go with it

- Knives wants him to outsell vash so vash realizes that art and human creativity is obsolete and instead help him run his tech/AI company that also focuses on helping global warming (humans suck they should die. robots go!)

- Hes apart of a band to rival Vash’s and ofc its the Gung Ho Guns; he hired them to play for him

- Tbh i think their genre isnt set in stone bc theyre purely doing this to outsell vash so I think theyd keep the core of it rock or indie but it has a lot of shifting gears, doing wtv gets the most traction

- Legato is the bassist but he knows keyboard if their keyboardist is absent

- I think legato writes most of the songs himself (to impress knives ofc this is still HIS mission afterall) and gets a lil sad and defensive if it flops LMFAO even if its just his first album; considering how Knives talked down on music Legato thought it’d be somewhat easy

- It DEFINITELY took him a while to write things that had some semblance of humanity in it tbh he had to have either another less emotionally stunted member write it or a ghost writer but he did still practice writing in his spare time since he had nothing better to do

- NOW ABOUT YALL. Ur roommates in a college dorm; if it were up to him he’d have an apartment but knives wanted him to keep an eye on vash and vash lives on campus

- He only has like one or two official rules as roommates but if ur pissing him off with sth thats not on the list he WILL let u lnow LOL

- The only rules established off rip are:

1. MYOB

2. Do not touch him (no tolerance rule if u touch him without permission he WILL be out of there asap even if its a lot of trouble and will probably even idk push u or sth ignore u forever, hope and pray on ur downfall idk its hard to translate his violent tendencies to modern society without getting him arrested ok)

- You often eat together when he isnt busy tbh usually in silence but its ok its comfortable silence (to him at least)

- Ok im gonna try to say this in the least creepy way possible but like. He likes to observe you for inspiration HEAR ME OUT. Just seeing u go about ur day and since hes always in first person POV seeing someone else just… live gives him immense inspiration on what to write

- He also gets inspo from other artists and heres where u come in hehe. You are a solo artist who doesn’t show your face and your speaking voice is pretty much completely different from ur singing voice (Not like insanely different but if you heard the two separately you wouldnt really connect the dots unless ur one of those people who connect voices easily + depending on ur genre u could be using a completely different tone of voice than usual)

- Your genre is a little similar to Legato’s in the fact that although you keep your core component (Love theme IMO but hey i dont make the rules yes i doo) you change around the other moving parts such as the instruments or wtv so he listens to your music often though he never really thought it would be you; just never really thought about the possibility

- Im not gonna say hes like obsessed with your artist persona or anything but he does (as much as he would rather khs than admit it since according to Knives music is the bane of this world) greatly enjoy your music and often finds himself getting your songs stuck in his head

- Hes def a gatekeeper i mean this is the guy who can name every song in ur discography (Not saying much though since you dont post too often)

- ANYWAY u have no idea this is going on since hes prone to just listening to music in his headphones rather than showing you or blasting it for the world to hear so ur relationship is developing as normal roommates

- You often get him stuff from the college snack shack and in return he often gives u whatever he doesnt want from the dining hall (that sounds crappy but its usually good stuff like ur fave fruit or cheese and crackers or sth)

- After u become a bit closer going on trips together becomes common not like vacation but like a little drive to a department store or him taking you with him to practice/performances

- SPEAKING OF PRACTICE U work part time at a coffee shop and it has a practice room which is where he usually brings his band it sounds random but I’ve encountered a coffee place like this before ok

- Killing two birds with one stone, he gets to see you on his way in and out and he gets a quiet place to practice + Vash often brings his band here too so ig killing two birds and one afterthought with one stone

- Other GHGs (NOT greenhouse gasses. Gung ho guns) think that ur another one of his groupies probably 💀 he def has tons i fear

- He def writes songs about you or rather than about you, references how u make him feel but he is in denial and thinks feelings are embarrassing so hes just like no they just gave me inspiration

- Its ok though the only one he has to justify himself to is himself bc hes like. The only one who knows its about u since his songs are never rlly about romance and in the rare cases that they are its very subtle

- When, if ever, he feels ready for touch he frames it like hes doing u a favor lmao “I will allow you to (blank)” he is tbh

Random Misc:

- Hes majoring in Ecology or Conservation Biology prob minoring in sth like computer science (his entire life surrounds Knives what did u expect)

- Sleeps in his daytime clothes and ur always like ???? Esp bc he wears jeans often… U two went to the department store one time and u convinced him to let u buy him pajamas so he could wash the day clothes overnight

- Hes a big ass fan of vinyls and cds and just physical ways of owning things like music or games but wont admit to himself he likes it its just for the aesthetic ok even though he has a record and cd player

- Wants to cut ur hair and feels like its one of the most intimate things u could do without having to touch too much (forever subscribed to knives cut his hair hc)

- If u have a lot of accessories and generally just a lot of stuff he gets annoyed if it isnt properly organized and will organize it for u wnv hes having writers block

- If ur an artist he has u make his merch designs n stuff 😍😍 he pays very generously he rlly dgaf abt money tbh + Knives sponsoring him

A/N: irrelevant but idk whether to imagine him as tristamp or trigun design like both are so good but Ok im done yapping ty

#legato x you #legato bluesummers x reader #legato x reader #legato trigun #trigun band au #trigun modern au #trigun college au #trigun stampede #trigun #legato bluesummers #ridiculous men x reader lol #sobbing (literal) #legato and i should kiss #deranged men #yapping