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asumofwords · 9 months

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Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Mentions of assault, mocking, face fucking, somnophilia, dacryphilia, dubcon.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello angels, did you all see AO3 was down? I was distraught lmaooo wtf??? But it's back up now which means I can have my little night time stories again hehe. Reader has been working hard to get where she is and honestly? Slay. So here is the next chapter, I will say, things will be moving a lil quickly from here on out so buckle yourself up babes <3 Enjoy!

Chapter 81: A Council of Green

The dinner was uncomfortable for you all. Just as expected.

You had gotten dressed for the evening with the help of Joanna and Amala, a black dress with red stitching and embroidery, hair half up, and half done in intricate braids with small rubies laid inside.

Aemond had been dressed in his usual black leathers again, the tunic buckling up high on his throat, but his hair was braided back and away from his face, half up, half down.

Two halves of a whole.

You had walked together, anticipation strumming in your veins with every step you took towards the Great Hall with Aemond. Anxiety steadily building as you got closer, knowing that you would be in the presence of Aegon once again, and not only that, but his entire small council including the slimy Lord, Jason Lannister.

When you had arrived, you had been relatively on time. Most of the Lords arrived at the same time as you, with Alicent decked in her usual deep green. She had blinked at you oddly, as though she had not expected you to join, or that she had been told that you would not.

Though Aegon was nowhere to be seen.

Ser Otto Hightower however, did not even spare you a second glance, as though you were part of the furniture or one of their tacky Seven tapestries that defiled the castle walls.

Perhaps you were like a part of the furniture by now.

There, seen, and rarely heard.

When Aegon finally arrived, all having waited for him for a time, food already atop the table, he was flanked by Ser Cole, who announced his entrance to the Great Hall and the small council who joined as though they were not aware of who the pompous silver haired fool was already.

The wives of the Lords of the Small Council were also present, dressed conservatively in their House colours, bright blues and soft yellows and reds. When you had sat yourself down and looked amongst the long wooden table, you had attempted to gage the attention of the other women, hoping that perhaps you could make a friend. But none of the women turned to acknowledge you, avoiding your eye carefully.

The table was full tot he brim, and even the longer tables that flanked the sides of the Hall were full of men and women, servers and guards stationed about the sides of the room. There were even some lower Lords who were not a part of the council, but in charge of large plots of land or advantageous Houses and trades.

It was, for the most part, a loud and joyous affair for them, or for all those except anyone who had witnessed the Prince and the King’s spat. Whenever Aegon’s eyes would graze over the two of you, landing on you in curiosity, the Maester or another Lord like Jasper Wylde, or even Otto Hightower would ask the King a question, speaking loudly to gain his attention.

Like you would a child.

But whilst most eyes were not on you, you felt a pair beside the King’s short glances to be particularly burning.

Jason Lannister sat at the end of the table, donned in his House colours of red and Gold, his blue eyes glued to you and Aemond. Beside him, an empty chair where his wife would have been.

"And where is your wife, Jason.” Aegon asked, noting the absence of the woman, and the presence of every other Lords.

“She sends her apologies that she could not join me in King’s Landing. She is recently with child, and well…” Jason intoned, a limacious smirk winding on his face, “You know how women get when they swell.”

The Lords wives stayed quiet, some with small, shy smiles on their faces in mock agreement whilst the Lords half heartedly agreed, others more enthusiastically than others.

It made your skin feel alight.

“And how do they get, Lannister?” Your voice carried across the table snidely before you could stop it.

A knife scraped across a plate, and all eyes were on you. You could feel Aemond’s careful gaze on the side of your cheek as you stared at Jason.

Prick.

The sound of Aegon snickering caught your ears, and you fought to not turn and face him.

The Lord pressed his tongue into his cheek as he looked at you, “Well, I am sure you will find out in due time.” He smiled, eyes flicking from you to Aemond.

“Of course, but I’m asking you.” You smiled back falsely, reaching to take a sip from your wine primly.

Jason laughed, and some of the other Lords laughed awkwardly with him, sensing the tension, “My wife,” He began, looking around the table, “Has a terrible craving for fried trout, and will burst to tears if she is without it. It goes without saying, her hysteria can be quite jarring.”

“Interesting.” You mused, placing the wine back down, “Perhaps she is not being adequately satisfied with other smaller meats.” You grinned. Aemond hummed in amusement beside you.

Aegon bellowed, large hand slapping against the wood of the table jolting goblets and cutlery. The other Lord’s joined in with their King, seeing permission to laugh at your snide remark. Even Jason himself huffed out a laugh, though the smile did not reach his eyes, and his jaw was clenched tight.

“My niece everyone.” Aegon boomed, “The sharpest of tongues and the tightest of cunts.”

The room burst into laughter again, some more nervous than others. Otto did not laugh nor smile, and Alicent glared at her son. Aemond inhaled sharply beside you, and from the corner of your eye, you saw Ser Cole shift.

"Aegon." Alicent warned beneath her breath, eyes darting from Aemond, to Ser Cole, and then back to Aegon.

“My brother is a lucky man.” Aegon hollered, raising his goblet up in mock toast.

Aemond did not move, eyeing his brother down, anger radiating from him.

It was perfect.

You lifted your goblet to Aegon, toasting to yourself, before taking a deep sip, turning your head to Aemond, smiling. With a soft hand, you grasped his on the table, squeezing it twice.

Aemond did not squeeze it back.

“That he is.” You smirked, head still turned to Aemond who slowly turned his gaze onto you.

He was furious.

Good.

“And how is your son, My Lord?” You asked across the table, looking at Jason Lannister who’s face beamed with pride, “The last I remember was you offering his hand to me, not too long ago.”

Aemond took his hand away from yours and moved it under the table, gripping your thigh.

“Loreon grows bigger by each day,” He grinned, “ A fine young Lord. He has his mothers eyes, but thankfully my hair. Can’t have a lion without its mane.” The Lord joked, and all chuckled with him. “Perhaps one day if you are to have a daughter, the Targaryen and Lannister Houses can be united.” He grinned.

When the world is on fire, and I am long gone.

The rest of the Lords moved to their own small conversations as you continued yours with Jason, feeling Aemond’s fingers dig meanly into the flesh of your thigh.

“Only if you were to build a Dragon Pit in Casterly rock. Our daughter will need to house her dragon there some day, and I expect I would come to visit.”

“You are welcome at the Golden Tooth whenever you please, Princess. We have the finest silk sheets, and the softest of beds.”

“I suppose I will have to see for myself if the riches of the Lannister House are truly what they are said to be.”

“If it is anything like the beauty of the Targaryen House is said to be, then you will find that the riches are just as spoken of.” He boasted and flirted.

You had to bite your inner cheek from gasping as you felt Aemond’s hand bruise your leg meanly, his nails biting into your skin.

“You’d best watch yourself, Jason.” Aegon smirked, “Aemond looks ready to summon Vhagar.”

Jason paled, “My apologies, Your Grace. There were no ill intentions.”

“My husband is a possessive man and protective.” You intoned, turning your head to face Aemond whose eye was locked on Jason again, "Issa iā orvorta, ñuha dōna. Ao gīmigon iksan aōhon.” He is a cunt, my sweet. You know I am yours, You cooed sickly sweet, hand coming to brush against Aemond’s cheek.

Aegon burst into childish giggles, throwing his crowned head backwards against the high seat of his chair. Aemond’s jaw clenched. Whilst Jason cocked his head, not sure of what you had said and turned to join conversation with the other Lords.

“Yn emā issare ñuhon tolī.” But you have been mine too, Aegon grinned, looking at you with bright violet eyes.

Your heart leapt in your throat, bile rising in your mouth.

“Daor ondoso iderennon.” Not by choice,You plastered a fake smile upon your lips, Aemond’s hand digging harder into your thigh as he straightened in his seat.

To anyone else at the table, it looked as though the three of you were having a lighthearted conversation in your mother tongue.

To the three of you, it was a stand off.

“Kostan tepagon ao iā iderennon.” I may give you a choice, Aegon smirked, sipping his ale, “Aemond kostagon urnēbagon lo ziry jeldan.” Aemond may even watch if he wishes.

“Aemond iksis ñuha iderennon.” Aemond is my choice, You purred, sipping your wine, mirroring the King. You felt Aemond’s hand on your thigh loosen.

Aegon rested his elbow upon the table lazily, sitting his chin in his palm as he looked at you both, “Sesīr hae ēza iā līve?” Even as he has a whore?

Anger bubbled up inside of you. You ground your teeth together and pushed out a false laugh, far too high to be believable, Alicent’s eyes darting to you with her brows drawn.

“Sesīr pār.” Even then.

“Lēkia, emā zirȳla orvorta qilōny.” Brother, you have her cock whipped, Aegon smirked.

Aemond hummed lowly, “Issa iā sȳz ābrazȳrys.” She is a good wife.

You almost beamed at the praise. You picked up your goblet to stop yourself from smiling, bringing the cup to your lips to sip at the honeyed Essos wine.

“Ivestragon nyke, qilōni's orvorta iksis rōvykta?” Tell me, who's cock is bigger? Aegon asked, and you spluttered your wine, inhaling it and coughing into your palm.

The urge to dive across the table and force a knife between his eyes grew larger.

You stayed quiet, sipping the wine again to settle the tickling burn in the back of your throat, and the rising anger that continued to mount within. Words fought in your chest to fly from your lips, but you swallowed them.

“Aōha lykemagon vestras nyke.” Your silence says me.

“Ñuha āeksio valzȳrys’.” My Lord Husbands, You smiled, wishing to sink your teeth into his throat, biting through the tendons and flesh, and ripping your head backwards, tearing the flesh away and watching his blood spurt out.

Aegon ignored his Small Council, Lords and Ladies who had travelled from all over the realm to dine with him, and enjoyed the small time given to direct snide remarks to Aemond without the chastising of his mother.

“Ao gīmigon lēkia, eman ryptan mirri sȳz udir hen Harrenhal.” You know brother, I have heard some good news from Harrenhal.

Aemond stilled.

The King grinned, teeth and gums being revealed by his lips pulling back, “Ēza Aemond ivestretan ao?” Has Aemond told you?

“Nyke gīmigon iksā nūmāzma naejot.” I know you’re about to, You snipped.

“Ah, ēza daor. Sȳrī,” Ah, he hasn’t. Well, Aegon smirked, leaning forward, “Gaomagon ao remember bona witch isse Harrenhal?” Do you remember that witch in Harrenhal? He tapped his chin in mock thought.

He knew who she was.

“Alys?” He continued.

Alicent’s head snapped to her son, eyes darting back and forth at the sound of her name. Your heart raced against your chest, heat rising to your cheeks.

How could you forget?

“Hen rhinka.” Of course, You said dully, swirling your wine in your hand as you tried to not give him any satisfaction as rage bubbled inside of you.

Not only at the King, but at your husband.

“Ñuha lēkia ēza issare working qopsa, pār emā daor given zirȳla iā dārilaros.” My brother has been working hard, since you have not given him an heir.

An heir.

“Aegon.” Aemond warned, jaw set in a stiff line.

“Skoros? Kostagon nyke daor biarvī manaeragon ñuha lēkia becoming vala? Iā kepa?” What? Can I not celebrate my brother becoming a man? A father?

Your blood ran cold, and fire licked at your face.

“Kepa?” Father? You seethed, teeth showing, smile faltering on your lips.

“Oh yes, Alys iksis lēda riña.” Alys is with child, Aegon grinned.

With child.

You saw red.

“Alys iksis lēda riña.” You parroted, tying to collect yourself as you thought of driving your fist into Aemond’s sapphire eye.

With child.

Alys was pregnant.

“Y/n-“ Aemond began.

“Aemond,” You interrupted him, turning your face to look at your husband, face cool, “Rijes aōt issi isse jorrāelatan. Kostilus, jikagon ñuha udir naejot aōha līve.” Congratulations are in order. Please send my word to your whore.

Aegon guffawed, eyes bouncing between the two of you. Aemond stared at you with a sallow face, your own carefully schooled.

You were enraged.

Your hand around your goblet tightened, nails reaching around the cool metal to dip into your palm as you desperately tried to use it to ground yourself.

“Bisa iksis daor skorkydoso-“ This is not ho-

“Valzȳrys,” Husband, You smiled joylessly, all teeth, “Ivestragī īlva daor ȳdragon hen aōha nādrēsy’s.” Let us not talk of your bastards.

“Kostilus īlon should maghagon-“ Perhaps we should bring-, Aegon began.

“Aōha Valyrīha jorrāelagon mirre.” Your Valyrian needs work, You snipped, mock toasting your wine to him again, small droplets falling from the rim to the table below at the force of your thrust, barely contained anger spilling over.

You let your eye trail over the King, his crown atop his head, wavy silver hair peaking beneath it, a small blush on his cheeks from the ale.

You were furious.

You were enraged.

You wished to hurt Aemond.

"Sir bona nyke pendagon hen ziry, iksā qumblie.” Now that I think of it, you are thicker, You mused, eyes quickly dropping to Aegon’s waist before back up at his face.

You reached to grasp the decanter from in front of you to refill your wine which disappeared at a rapid rate, and Aemond’s hand shot out, grasping your wrist tightly. The rest of the tables eyes flitted to the sharp movement. You snatched your hand away from him, not even sparing the man a glance as you continued to refill your wine.

"Konīr's bona ēngos,”There's that tongue, Aegon chuckled, smiling at you appreciatively, his eyes grazing down your body, "Nyke gīmigon iā sȳrkta gaomagon syt ziry.” I know a better use for it.

"Ȳdra daor.” Don’t, Aemond finally spoke, voice low and rough, hand returning to your thigh where he dug his fingers into it again, possessively and angrily.

Aegon giggled, excited that he had finally gotten Aemond to react, the unfinished fight between them simmering to almost a boiling point. “Nyke gōntan daor jiōragon naejot sylugon ziry.” I didn’t get to try it, Aegon pouted.

“Se kesā daor.” And you won’t, You purred, sipping your wine, “Yn ñuha valzȳrys gaomas.” But my husband does.

Aemond’s grip on your thigh tightened again, and you watched as he grabbed his goblet of wine and drank deeply from it.

"Kostilus kesan mirri tubis.” Perhaps I will some day, Aegon mused, pouting his lips at you as he fought off a grin.

You steeled yourself for what you were about to do, swallowing thickly as you looked Aegon in the eyes.

“Kostilus.” Perhaps.

The conversation had ended there, and Aegon had smirked, eyes half hooded as he looked at you. Alicent did not take her gaze from the three of you before you excused yourself, stating that you were tired and wished to leave your husband to his duties and fellow Lords for the rest of the evening.

You had pried Aemond’s hand from your thigh and bowed to Aegon and the other Lord’s, reminding Jason Lannister that he should begin preparing a Dragon Pit for Casterly Rock, to which he grinned in response. Aemond’s heated gaze followed you as you left the Great Hall, walking back to your chambers alone.

You arrived in your chambers and laughed loudly, furious at the news of Alys.

She was pregnant.

She was pregnant and he had not told you.

She was a greater risk to you now than before. You picked up a goblet at the side table and filled it with wine, already tipsy from the night, tossing its contents back down your throat.

But Aemond’s reaction at dinner was another thing all together.

It worked.

Your last lingering comment to Aegon, a small, ‘Perhaps', left the One-Eyed Prince reeling in his head, his hand not once undigging itself from your thighs. Even Jason Lannister unburdened flirting that evening had helped you along tremendously.

You had filled your goblet with wine once more, sitting in Aemond’s armchair, drinking slowly as you thought of the evening. Of the way his anger rose off of him in heated waves, the way he had become possessive of you with Jason. The way he scowled at his brother.

He was beginning to resent them all.

The door to the chambers slammed open, and the storming footfall of Aemond caused you to lazily turn your head to look at him.

He was irate.

“You seek to humiliate me in front of the council? In front of the King, flirting like a whore?” He sneered, marching over to you as he yanked you up from his chair, the goblet of wine tumbling from your fingers to the stone floor below, the red alcohol spilling across the tiles like blood.

“And what of you? What of your whoring? Your bastard is pregnant.” You retorted, lips pulling back to bare your teeth.

“She gave me an heir long before you did.”

You hand slapped across his cheek, Aemond’s head turning to the side.

“You disgust me.” You spat.

A shadow crossed Aemond’s face.

Your knees hit the harsh stone floors before your brain could catch up, Aemond’s large hands jarring you down by your shoulders. His eye crazed.

“You want to act like a whore, I will treat you like a whore.”

You tipped your chin up to look at him and smiled meanly, “Like Alys?”

“I told you, I did not see her.” He growled at you, hand gripping the side of your hair as he tugged your head.

“I don’t believe you.” You sneered.

Aemond’s hand moved to the front of his breeches and began to tug at the strings, impatiently ripping them open in front of your face.

A warmth spread within you.

He was so angry.

So on edge.

It had worked.

It was working.

Aemond finally undid the last of his ties and yanked his pants over his ass, pulling his cock out of the confines of his breeches. You looked up at him defiantly as he began to stroke himself in his hand, slowly getting hard.

“Having trouble?” You mocked, watching as he frowned down at you.

“Cunt.” He swore, before grabbing the back of your head roughly and tugging you towards his length.

“Open.” He barked, and you obeyed, keeping your eyes on him as he slid his length cruelly down the back of your throat in one rough push.

You gagged around him, tears prickling your eyes.

“Much better when you can’t talk.” He grunted, holding you down on him, the light curls at his base tickling your nose.

Aemond roughly pulled you back off of him by your hair, a spluttering cough escaping your lips as you sucked in a lungful of air.

“I should have his head for that. Who does he think he is?” Aemond growled, pulling you back on his length, saliva dripping from your lips onto the stone below.

Your knees ached as he began to thrust into your face harshly, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you breathed through your nose, tears dripping down your cheeks.

“Fucking Lannister scum. A Dragon Pit?” He grunted, using both hands to pull your mouth up and down his length, “He thinks he could fuck you? He thinks he could please you? Silk sheets? Is that what you want? You want fucking silk sheets?”

You gagged loudly as he pushed himself all the way in, holding your head down on him as he shook you with your hair, causing his cock to beat against your gag reflex.

“Stupid cunt. None of them could give you what I do. None of them could fuck you the way I do.” He continued, and you squirmed on the spot, bringing your hands up to his thighs to hold on for balance.

Aemond’s hands slapped yours away, “No. I didn’t say you could touch me.”

You dropped your arms, digging your fingers into your thighs as he continued.

“I am the only man for you. You are my wife.” Thrust.

“Mine.”

Thrust.

Warm heat settled in your gut as you hummed around him, curling your tongue up against the underside of his cock. Aemond moaned, letting go of one side of your head to brush hair away from your cheeks.

“Sȳz riña.” Good girl, He praised, framing your jaw with one hand, “Such a good little whore.”

Your core clenched around nothing and you shut your eyes, rubbing your thighs together to ease the ache that steadily began to rise in you.

“Aegon is a cunt." The Prince growled, "A depraved, pathetic excuse for a man. Do you think he could please you?” He grunted.

You did not want to think of Aegon.

You squeezed your eyes tight.

“A useless King,” Aemond continued, thrusts becoming harsh again, “Can't even perform his own duties. Has me do them. Has me fly about the realm when he has Sunfyre and does not ride him.” Another growl, his length heavy on your tongue, you could feel every vein and ridge.

“Mother should have put me in line for the throne. We had to search the Silk Lanes for him when father died.” The wet sound of your mouth filled the room with Aemond’s complaints. “I hate him.”

I hate him.

Hate.

You sucked at Aemond’s length harder, a whine falling from this lips.

Rewarding him.

It spurred him on.

“He should beg for my mercy. Should have me rule.”

Delight sparked within you.

You curled your tongue up against the underside of his shaft, pressing the wet muscle against him as his thrusts became sloppier, thick strands of saliva hanging from your lips as he continued, the front of your dress and the stone floors below wet with it.

“Fucking pathetic.”

You hummed in agreement, opening your eyes to look up at him. Aemond looked down at you watching the way his cock disappeared into your lips. A groan falling from his mouth as you caught his gaze.

“He could never have you. He does not deserve you. He is not worthy.” His tip hit the back of your throat, “Not worthy of your perfect cunt.”

You moaned around his length.

“Not worthy of the throne.”

Thrust.

“Not worthy of life.”

Thrust.

You suck sharply on him as his thrusts grow sloppy, his mouth slackened as he breathed heavily, hands holding your head still as he chased his peak. You fought against your gags, tears moving down your face as you continued to squirm from your spot on the tiles.

It turned you on.

“Fuck.” Aemond moaned, pushing himself as deep as he could go.

His hot seed burst down your throat, causing you to cough and gag on his length as he moaned above you, holding you down on it with no escape. Each pump of his seed coating your mouth and tongue.

“Sīr sȳz syt nyke.” So good for me, “Vok byka ābrazȳrys.” Perfect little wife.

Aemond pulled himself from your lips, and a sharp inhale sucked air into your lungs as you coughed, swallowing what was left of his seed. The Prince’s hand moved to the side of your jaw stroking it as he looked down at you, thumb swiping up the seed that had escaped from the side of your mouth. Aemond rubbed it over your lips as he looked at you, your knees aching in protest.

“Filthy.” He purred.

Aemond bent down and pulled you up. The Prince took you to bed before hardening again, fucking his seed deep inside of you in the hour of the owl. You had whined and moaned, and he had fucked you roughly against the soft sheets, growling about his brother, about Jason, about the throne.

And you had encouraged it.

As the ebbs of your third release left your body, you found yourself boneless in the bed beneath Aemond, who crawled down the length of your body, planting insatiable kisses against your sensitive skin.

“I am falling to sleep.” You had argued, trying to pull him up and away from your core, where his tongue darted between your folds.

“Then sleep.” He uttered, “Let me enjoy the pleasures of my wife.”

His tongue was soft and gentle, pressing soothing kisses to your core as you felt your eyes flutter shut, fatigue dragging you down into the depths of sleep.

You woke some time later to the familiar stretch of Aemond’s cock moving through you. You had groaned, blinking in the dark up at Aemond he pushed himself inside of you.

“Wha-“

“Shh. Go back to sleep.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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hotvintagepoll · 1 day

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Propaganda

Marpessa Dawn (Black Orpheus)—She's like. fairy tale princess etheral pretty. truly eurydice realness. AND she's a singer AND she's a dancer. she used to be a governess/nightclub dancer, which isn't hot per say i just thought it was an interesting job combination. If you want to hear her sing just look up the Black Orpheus soundtrack

Irene Papas (Tribute to a Bad Man, Electra, Zorba the Greek)—"From the opening shot of Michael Cacoyannis's Electra, as the proud, implacable face emerges from encroaching shadows, it becomes impossible to imagine anyone else as Euripides's heroine. Erect, immutably dignified, dark eyes burning fiercely beneath heavy black brows, Irene Papas visibly embodies the sublimity of classical Greece, tragic yet serene." -Philip Kemp (film critic) Also she's a a badass.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Marpessa Dawn:

Marpessa Dawn was an filipina/african american who became well known as an actress, singer and dancer in France. She is most famous for her role in 'Black Orpheus' in which she played Eurydice. It's difficult to find a picture where she and her husband, the actor Eric Vander, aren't kissing or hugging or laughing together, they are incredibly cute (and hot).

basically everyone and their mother will agree that marpessa dawn was one of THEE og vintage black women working in cinema (even if it was mostly in french cinema! the cross language barrier slay). mostly did her work in french cinema, and her smile in black orpheus is literally like the sun breaking over the sea

Irene Papas:

An amazing actress and singer, some may say a literal Greek goddess. Fought against military dictatorship in her home country and had an affair with Marlon Brando.

She literally played Helen, the most beautiful woman in the world in Greek mythology, what more could you want

#irene papas #marpessa dawn #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4

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raisedbythetv89 · 3 months

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I genuinely don’t understand how people can watch the body swap episode and enjoy seeing Faith inhabit Buffy’s body and WORSE objectifying (Faith)Buffy being like “omg she’s so hot she slayed so hard I love Buffy in black leather”

Not only is SMG’s FRIGHTENING thinness even more apparent in Faith’s traditional wardrobe showcasing just how much she is practically skin and bone due to her being under immense stress and being so overworked which always just tears at my heart in so many ways but we are witnessing the WORST violation of Buffy’s body and autonomy!!!! I’m genuinely just sick the entire episode.

Bad enough she almost gets Buffy killed and finally gets her wish of (temporarily) stealing Buffy’s life which she has wanted to do since her arrival in season 3 (only to STILL not understand Buffy’s perspective until she does it again in a far less invasive way in season 7 after Buffy allowed her back into her home and she still never properly apologizes she’s like hehe turns our your life is actually pretty miserable and I don’t want it because I can’t handle the stress and constant pressure you’re under…. Oops!🙃) but unlike when Willow takes Buffy’s free will and autonomy away (where she at least still retains all the memories after the fact of everything that happened so she doesn’t have to wonder and can process them when she’s ready) Buffy has ZERO CLUE what all Faith allows to happen to her body while she’s not in it. And Faith isn’t unaware or passive about the power she holds and the things she can do to Buffy’s body in the position she’s in - she literally tells Riley, BEGS HIM - to do all of the nastiest things he’s ever wanted to do “to this body” she WANTS Riley to do things to Buffy’s body Buffy herself WOULD. NOT. ALLOW. it is one of THE MOST insidious lines in the entire series to me because not only is that an absolutely stomach churning, bone-chilling thing to say but then after the fact when angel asks what Faith did to upset Buffy so much she’s like “I slept with her boyfriend” like UMMMM WHAT??? EXCUSE ME???? That is literally the absolute LEAST of your crimes bitch be so fucking for real. This horrific violation is minimized down to oh well Buffy is just insecure about sex and especially sex in comparison to Faith like GROSS GROSSSSSSS. The entire thing is SO DISGUSTING and misogynistic AND it is part of why I genuinely do not give A FUCK about the events of seeing red as far as my love of spuffy goes because while that was absolutely the most traumatizing to watch not only was it so completely out of left field and out of character that it just doesn’t make sense in the narrative and is so obviously joss whedon coming over the loud speaker and going “women who enjoy sex with men I don’t approve of should and always will be punished” but it is the ONLY time someone hurts her in this way and PROPERLY APOLOGIZES AND MAKES THE PROPER AMENDS!!!!

So until EVERY. SINGLE. violation of Buffy’s body is treated with the same level of outcry seeing red is by all the anti-spuffys I genuinely DO NOT CARE. I DONT CARE because I’m just so done with spuffy girlies having that thrown in our faces by the morality police who are listening to the tiny white male puritanical cop in their head.

ALSO the fact that Riley not only doesn’t think ANYTHING is off about Buffy (when Faith is doing an absolutely HORRIFIC JOB of acting like Buffy) so he not only sleeps with her BUT TELLS HER HE LOVES HER FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER!??!?!?!? WHILE SHE IS LITERALLY PINNED BENEATH HIM?!?!?!?!? AAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!! RILEY FINN I WILL KILL YOU IF IT IS THE LAST THING THAT I DO.

#hey siri how do I rescue spike buffy and tara from a gaslighting manipulative monster of a creator?#I legit haven’t been able to rewatch Buffy recently because so often it just makes me INSANELY ANGRY #RANT #whew really needed to get that off my chest actually lol #btvs meta #buffy summers we don’t deserve you #buffy the vampire slayer #anti riley finn #spuffy

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 month

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I've been dreaming of the Hunter of Love.

Every decision made or not made branches off and creates new realities. There are a countless number of those realities.

Worlds of infinite choices—he will glimpse them all.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

Rook dances through the darkness, unburdened and dauntless. Not a single step produces a sound—though if it had, the sound would no doubt be absorbed into the abyss. He glides effortlessly, a swan upon still water.

There is no road for his feet to follow, only a plane of darkness. Heels strike it, eliciting a clear clack-clack-clack, as if the floor is marble.

The walls—if they can be called that; there's nothing solid when he sticks his arms out to test the environment—are laden with full-body mirrors. They're mounted up upon nothing, floating in place, their reflective faces clean, clear, and free of cracks.

He is drawn to them, tugged along as if compelled by the red string of fate.

In each, he is presented with a novelty.

Familiar places and people, refracted and twisted into something new. Something beautiful.

An ethereal art gallery for his own amusement.

He turns his head, taps fingers along the frames of each realm in turn.

A Night Raven College with as many as fourteen dorms. A Night Raven College set upon a stage, scripts in the hands of every student. A Night Raven College of young women, not young men.

Jade with his hair styled up in a mohawk, a plethora of piercings studding his face. Kalim with a monkey upon his shoulder, sharing a platter of fruit. Young Epel in a pair of glasses, mouthing the lines to a play. Idia, smaller than even his younger brother, in an oversized sweater, playing on a mobile gaming console.

Rook imagines a great tree, its roots ever-growing, expanding deep, deep, deep into the soil and continuing still. Endless choices, endless possibilities.

C'est la vie—such is life.

He stops.

His hand now hovers over the glass casing of a tragedy.

Rook stares at a version of himself, collapsed beside a bottle of apple juice. Its caustic contents ooze out onto the ground, bubbling as it eats away at the floor.

The common man would be repulsed. Chilled to the bone. Frightened.

But Rook Hunt is not the common man.

"Comme c'est magnifique," he marvels. “Willingly consuming poison, wishing so desperately to believe that his queen was free of sin… Here lies a foolish dreamer in the aftermath, still having faith in his dear friend's integrity.”

Rook lingers, drinking in the details of the morbid work of art.

He does not move, does not breathe. Ignoring the bottle, it is as though he had been laid into a peaceful sleep. Lips arranged in a soft smile, long lashes cast over his cheeks.

A beautiful queen weeps for him, tears colored black as the night. His clothes are tattered, his crown tarnished. He is a flower of evil, stripped of his petals.

The next mirror, the mirror after—all horrific ends, varying shades of gruesome. Visions twisting, distorting.

A king dressed in roses slaying their victims, peasants who dares to defy their rule. A hyena dissolving into sand. Students trapped in constrictive tentacles, stripped of their talents.

Mindless drones lumbering around a seized castle. A reality dyed in ink, ruled by blue flames and Phantoms. And… a tangle of briar knitting over the world.

To him, they are just as lovely as the rest.

Heartbreaking, but lovely.

As that thought strikes him, the area ahead brightens. He spots color dotting the darkness.

They start as scribbles, clumsy trails of crayon left by a child's hand. Further along, the crayon gains dimension, turning into yarn threads. Eventually, they weave together to form a coherent path marked by cobblestones made of newspaper clippings.

It leads to a thicket unlike any he has ever seen.

Every glade of grass, every leaf and stem, is painted in a glistening coat of silver. The flowers are crystal, the fruit, plump jewels. The sky, a watercolor masterpiece of brilliant blues, white clouds dabbled on with an artist's sponge.

A tower rises in the distance, fine and thin like a needle. Its pointed roof pierces the heavens, and there is but one solitary window embedded in the structure.

Rook gasps, and a thousand or more reflected Rooks gasp too.

The leaves tinkle, a melody of wind chimes and bells. He feels as though they are beckoning to him, drawing him deeper and deeper into the forest.

His feet have a mind of their own; they start moving, as if bewitched by the majesty of the enchanted wood, by the mystery of the tower. Beads of dew upon the grass are left untouched as he swiftly passes.

A call reaches out from a place far, far away. It's not quite speech, but vocalizations resembling speech--someone grasping for the right words, the right feeling.

There is a haunting hollowness to the siren song. A longing so immense it makes tears spring to his eyes.

It must be seeking its other half, Rook realizes. A harmony for its melody, to form a duet.

But the longer he tries to focus on the sound, the more he tries to parse out its parts, the more confused he becomes. The voice is contradictory: familiar and yet unfamiliar, happy and yet sad.

His pace quickens, as does his heartbeat. It's an anomaly for him, for whom calmness comes easily.

I must go to them, he thinks, unsure of why. I must.

Is there a yet-to-be-discovered wonder on the other side? His queen, whom he has sworn his undying loyalty to, in danger? Is it from the strange tower? A stranger requesting his aid?

Curiosity thrums through him.

Hurry.

The tower seems to drift farther and farther away with each step. The voice, fainter.

Hurry...!!

Rook runs.

The building accelerates. The trees expand as if to fill in the space where the tower had fled.

Wildlife carved of glass watch, some racing with him. A deerling on limber, elegant legs, a rabbit bouncing as high as it can. Even the fish skip atop the river that runs concurrent with the forest trail, and a flock of birds soar upon their crystalline wings.

They trill, they coo, they sing.

His run becomes a sprint, and the sprint becomes a gallop. The call to adventure, loud and clear in his ears.

He is one with nature, and nature is one with him.

I must see for myself what lies at the ends of this world--and beyond it.

His spirit brims, burning with determination.

Chasing something he doesn’t know the true nature, the true face, of. For that... is the thrill of the hunt.

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punkeropercyjackson · 2 months

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Children's media can absolutely and does radicalize kids when written correctly,it's just that shitty bigoted adults in fandoms deliberately misenterpret their messages and trick them into believing they're canon and that's how we got here.Bleach had Ichigo be a goth punk dude who's a fantastic older brother and choose his female love interest because she's his best friend and he finds her weirdgirlness to be enchanting which is good rep for us because being punk is about nonconformity and so is the fact that he never joined the military system his species was largely a part of because he didn't give two shits about them but over half the fandom is convinced the mangaka is a 'sellout' and 'pandering' for not making him essentially a paranormal cop for the sake of pairing him up with the fem mc that he has a familial and queerplatonic relathionship with as confirmed by the aformentioned mangaka

Pjo had Percy hate the gods as much as Luke does and act on it too but directly TO them instead of grooming younger halfbloods to work for him as soldiers and in fact he basically adopted every one of them he came across as his siblings and pseudo-kids and this is explicitly framed as why he's a hero and Luke's evil but you see nonstop erasure of his anti-corruption and anti-authority mentality and direct action despite being his core character traits to make him more palpable as an 'average fantasy protagonist' when the point of him is that he's not normal in any way

The Owl House had 3/5 of it's mcs be poc with the two white ones being an autistic and ocd lesbian and the other a disabled boy with zero conventionally physical traits that're never made out to be ugly and the protag is an inmigrant afrolatina girl while the big villain is a puritan colonizer and every single ship on the show is queer including the m/f one and the token white boy has almost all the important characters to his arc being black and the only one who isn't is a fat asian girl who's also disabled but the HUGE amount of positive rep in the show is deliberately taken out of context for bad faith critisism by a bunch of 20/30/even 40 year olds who've never written actual good stories themselves and this includes them adoring and gushing over the colonizer guy while dismissing the poc and women in the cast as irrelevant

Across the Spiderverse had an EXTREMELY black in every way character literally named SpiderPUNK who makes his beliefs clear in every single one of his lines and isn't all talk for a single second but he's reduced down to 'annoying edgy older brother figure' and made to listen to Taylor Swift and go to Hot Topic and called 'obviously a skater boy' and every other poser punk trope in the books

Atla had Aang and Katara be a gnc boy of a lesser known type of asian race and Katara a brownskin native girl that reclaims femininity for herself with their character drives being to save the world with Zuko's arc hammering it in again and again that while he always had good in him,he WAS evil,he DOES have a lot of bad traits and that made him do a lot of bad things and THAT'S why he needed a redemption arc to be a hero but Aang gets called racist for following the buddhist belief that in-universe he was sole remaining follower of that killing humans is bad,Katara gets adultified and stripped of her actual personality to make her just 'hashtag relatable teen gurl' and Zuko gets infantalized and upholded as the least problematic character in the whole show

And my last and not quite like the rest example is Harry Potter,including the spinoffs and fanon.Everything in it is neoliberal bs and the fandom just made it worse-Oh,the house that's a metaphor for fascism and white supremacy legacies?They're just misunderstood little babies and every minority-coded🥺The lower class family who canonically were Jkr's best attempt at good people that still flopped?Awful homophobic bastards😡All the female characters?Perfect slay 'You can't sit with us' girlboss,precious little baby angel who can't tie her shoes without her reverse harem's help or manipulative self-obsessed hyperfemme pick me,those are the only three categories they can ever fall in.Marauder's Era not only existing but being very,VERY popular is nothing but whiteness-What is there for you to be attached to there exactly?With the canon cast i can least see why you'd have nostalgia but M Era is literally nothing.You just CHOOSE to pick a franchise that's violently bigoted towards basically everyone and who's creator actively influences and helps caused that hurt irl oppressed groups instead of making ocs since you're already building them from scratch anyway

It's not the fault of actual good creators and especially not kids in fandom that grown ass bootlickers couldn't accept that their precious 'escapist comfort media' isn't apolitical at all instead of absorving it's messages like they should have since they have no care for other people despite insisting how kind and unproblematic they are

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 1 month

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hi! could you write the bachelor/ettes with a m!farmer that dresses very fem? like— with all the stuff that's stereotypically related to girls?

Heya 👋 Sure, why not.

I honestly didn't know what format to choose. At first it was going to be big stories, but I thought it would be too long to read lol. Thanks for the ask btw! 💕

SDV bachelors/ettes with male!Farmer that dresses very fem:

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Abigail was filled with envy because Farmer is a man who could wear whatever he wanted and not be told by his parents that he "had to dress properly". Amethyst lover still has to listen from mom that "a lady should wear a skirt" or from dad "a lady should this and that". Ugh... Oh, and Farmer looks gorgeous! Damn, Abby's jealous >:/

"You're such a weirdo, what's with the girly clothes?" Alex should have learnt not to say the first thing that comes to mind out loud, but we all have our flaws. Athlete has nothing bad to say towards the Farmer himself, but clearly doesn't understand his taste in clothing. Neither does he understand why Sebastian is always walking around in black clothes. Farmer looks... alright, Alex think. But he just doesn't get it.

Oh, how happy Emily is to have another person in town who loves to express himself through clothes! Everything is harmoniously matched, the fabric is of the best quality.... And most importantly, the Farmer feels comfortable! The blue-haired girl doesn't care that it's "not for a man". Emily can make clothes for Farmer according to his style, if he doesn't mind of course!

In the past, Abby had been teased for dressing like a boy, and Sebby had been insulted for having long, "girlish" fringes.... More than once Sam has threatened to hit the offenders with his guitar if they keep it up. So if Farmer gets harassed too, he shouldn't hesitate to ask Sam for help. Farmer looks cool, by the way!

To be honest, Farmer's fem style of dressing for Penny is rather extravagant. The young teacher is modest by nature and with old-fashioned ideas about how men and women should dress. On the other hand, she admires Farmer's courage to express himself and not afraid to be judged.

There were at least three times in Sebastian's life when some tourists picked on his "fem look", namely his tight jeans and black-painted nails. The local emo even then knew that judging people by their appearance is a complete nonsense, so he would not react to Farmer's atypical clothes in the bad way. And Farmer look cool, though Sebby is not a fan of his style, preferring everything black.

Yoba, is this the latest collection from the same famous designer that Haley always orders clothes from?! She recognises these clothes anywhere. Haley thought the new farmer always wore dirty overalls. And these clothes look so stylish on him! What? Who frickin cares if the clothes are feminine, the Farmer looks great! Slay! 💅

Shane was about to open his mouth and comment on Farmer's, as he think, ridiculous outfit. But then he remembered that it wasn't his place to judge people by their clothes, considering that his everyday clothes were a torn blue jumper with Joja's logo on it, pizza-stained shorts, and ragged crocs. After Emily's clothing therapy, Shane will have a little change of heart. But in general, he doesn't give a shit what Farmer wears, even if it's a trash bag.

"Hey, you look great." Believe me, Farmer, Leah's words are genuine. This woman is always used to being honest with people, and she will honestly praise her friend's appearance. Because a lot of people express themselves in different ways. Leah chose to express herself through creativity, while Farmer chose to express himself through clothes, and that's totally cool.

Harvey marvelled at the fact that Farmer walks around in these clothes and is completely unafraid of criticism..... No, no, don't get him wrong, Farmer looks good! It's just... In a way, Harvey is jealous, because he has to sneak around to aerobics in fear that some of the other bachelors will see him and make fun of him. But you know, just seeing Farmer has inspired the doctor to be braver.

Although in Maru's situation it was not about clothes, she too had to deal with this type of conflicts. Her grandparents told her mom, Robin, that her job as a carpenter was "not for women", while her father's relatives condemned Maru's passion for inventions as "not for young lady". How nice that Maru's parents were supportive and that Farmer has also defied criticism and is doing what makes him happy. Don't listen to anyone and do what your heart desire!

Quite extravagant, but Elliott even likes his style. Farmer definitely has the taste to pick colours and accessories harmoniously. What? Judging? Pfft! Dear friend, when Elliott lived in town before moving to Stardew Valley, the people there also tried to ridicule his clothing choices, calling him a dandy and, pardon his language, a "pompous peacock." Ugh, some people just have no taste! But at least Elliott has excellent clothing taste. And Farmer has it as well!

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv headcanons #sdv abigail #sdv penny #sdv emily #sdv haley #sdv leah #sdv maru #sdv shane #sdv alex #sdv sebastian #sdv sam #sdv harvey #sdv elliott #thanks for the ask!

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sakurapika · 4 months

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Reviewing New Year Sale Outfits in Twisted Wonderland

In Japan, New Year's Day (お正月, or "Oshogatsu") is the biggest holiday of the year, and it is also my favorite. That being said, the TWST artists never disappoint when it comes to the art for this event, so let's review all of the cards!

Spoiler warning for upcoming ENG and JP sever event cards, including some Groovy art!

Round 1: 2021-2022

Kalim Al-Asim (SSR)

Look at him, he's so festive and cheerful

This Kalim, as well as Deuce's SR, have a special place in my heart. I started playing TWST the summer it came out, but I wasn't a "serious" player until around New Year. Kalim and Deuce were my first "duo magic" pair, and I love their interactions in the story as well.

I love his headband ribbon and how it matches his obi. The sparkly hakama also suits him. I'm excited to see Jamil's version of this outfit as well, but we all know it'll be a very long time until Jamil volunteers to work retail during the peak season.

12/10 he's so cute

Deuce Spade (SR)

I was surprised that this was just an SR, and that you could get him by finishing the event story. His outfit is so detailed!

I chose his Groovy art so you could see that he's wearing sneakers with his outfit, which I found funny. Cater is wearing similar shoes in his own SR, so it must be part of the Heartslabyul New Year attire. It still feels very in-character for Deuce.

The silhouette of his outfit is interesting. His jacket is short like a suit jacket, but has the sleeves of a haori. There are lots of elements of his dorm uniform, like the pins and sash around his waist.

Not only does he look awesome, but he chose to work during the New Year's Sale to buy a present for his mother.

12/10 very cool and wholesome

Round 2: 2022-2023

Ruggie Bucchi (SSR)

HIS HAIR!!!

Aside from Vargas Camp and his birthday cards, Ruggie doesn't have a lot of SSRs, so I'm happy for him. I look forward to getting him in the English server soon.

I love how Ruggie seems to have picked up a lot of merchandise from around the store. Aside from a fan, which all the boys are using as their "weapons" for battles, he has a little koi bag, which I love so much (I have a similar one). The little toy he's holding is called a den-den daiko (でんでん太鼓), which is popular for young children.

11/10 congrats on getting the job, Ruggie!

Cater Diamond (SR)

I chose to show his un-Groovy art, because it's easier to see his outfit.

His clothes are similar to Deuce's, except that his "vest" is red, and he is wearing a button-down shirt underneath. The mix of Japanese and Western influences reminds me of Taisho-era clothing. He looks like Kazushi Tatsuishi in the anime version of My Happy Marriage, which also happens to be set in the Taisho Era.

It's hard to see in this picture, but he has a hairpin in his hair!

10/10 he slays

Sebek Zigvolt (SSR)

He looks so dramatic with his gloves and fur collar, but are we surprised? He's a Diasomnia student, after all. I wish they had given him a different hat, though, because it looks almost identical to his dorm uniform.

This one makes me laugh, because he poses like my dad. Not seen in this image is Sebby's neon-green geta, which I think my dad would love (he likes having shoes in unusual colors).

10/10 who needs fireworks on New Year's Eve when you have Sebby?

Vil Schoenheit (SR)

He stole the show.

At first glance, his outfit may bear too heavy a resemblance to the regular Pomefiore uniforms, since they're already inspired by kimono.

With his fascinator hat, netted gloves, and black nail polish, though, Vil adds a sense of mystery and intrigue to his outfit. He looks like he is playing the role of a Taisho-era socialite who poisoned their lover and is now actively avoiding the police.

Either that, or he got divorced from Rook. After all, it looks like he is wearing a furisode (a type of kimono meant for single women) rather than a tomesode (worn by married women), like in his dorm uniform.

11/10. The storytelling potential is limitless.

Round 3: 2023-2024

Trey Clover (SSR)

I love his scarf and hat. His coat looks longer than Deuce's and Cater's, and more like a haori. Overall, it looks like a cozy combination.

Like Cater, he is also wearing a button-down shirt under his kimono, and his vest is green. Heartslabyul is the only dorm that gets a character in this event every year, so it's nice to see that the outfits are personalized for each character.

He looks like he could be someone's uncle, but you know for sure that he'd spoil his nieces and nephews.

10/10 very classy, if he was working at the store and I came to visit, I'd trust him.

Ortho Shroud (SR)

ADORABLE.

Something I've always found interesting about Ignihyde clothing is their use of sharp shapes and geometric patterns, especially in Ortho's case. I wonder how Idia's version of this outfit would look.

Ortho and Idia must've had so much fun creating this outfit together!

Infinity/10 if Ortho were trying to sell me anything, I'd buy it, regardless of whether I actually need it.

Rook Hunt (SSR)

He's wearing RED EYELINER!

His outfit is quite different from Vil's. While Vil is wearing a furisode, which is traditionally worn by women, Rook's outfit seems to have a more traditionally masculine silhouette (of course, this is just my interpretation). This probably means that Epel will get to wear an outfit similar to Rook's next time as well.

The peacock feathers on his red hat is also a nice touch.

His pose and expression remind me of Wen Kexing from the C-drama Word of Honor. They also have similar personalities.

10/10, he looks like he just stepped out of a period drama. I look forward to seeing the fanarts of him with Vil.

Jade Leech (SR)

Jade's card has to be my favorite from this year's lineup. I just love how they translated Octavinelle's suits into kimono, while keeping details such as the purple bow tie.

I'm obsessed with his haori--it looks fluffy. I'd like to buy five.

His pose is so...

Like Trey, he looks like someone's uncle (it must be the fedora). However, unlike Trey, he looks like someone's uncle who may or may not be part of the Yakuza. Instead of giving you money on New Year, you owe HIM.

He also looks like he goes door to door selling products, and is about to sell me what he guarantees is a genuine Toshiba toaster oven and absolutely not an overpriced knockoff that will short-circuit and cause my entire neighborhood to lose electricity.

11/10 I will buy that toaster oven anyway.

Which cards are you most excited for? Let me know!

#I'm an f2p player so I've been saving for them ever since GloMas ended #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #kalim al asim #deuce spade #ruggie bucchi #cater diamond #vil schoenheit #sebek zigvolt #rook hunt #jade leech #trey clover #ortho shroud

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hlizr50 · 5 months

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Sooo remember yesterday when I reblogged that amazing art by elenana.art on Instagram?

Well, I couldn't stop myself from writing a drabble for my Gwynriel headcanon that it inspired... So here it is!

And there's no angst!!

Read on AO3

Nesta rolled her eyes, unwilling to give her sister the satisfaction of, well, being right.

“The drummer was kinda hot, I guess,” she muttered. ‘Kinda hot’ was a gross understatement for the colossal man who had manned the drums during the trio’s set. The Bat Boys, they called themselves. And that drummer had been nothing less than drool-worthy.

“What do you mean ‘I guess’?! Have you seen his biceps?” Feyre sputtered.

Oh yes. Yes, she definitely had.

“Okay, but what’s with all the tattoos?” Nesta demanded, lifting a brow. “They’re a band, Feyre, not the yakuza.” Her sister’s answering expression was unimpressed, to say the very least.

“I should’ve just brought Elain.”

The Hell she should have.

With another eyeroll, Nesta snapped, “Don’t be silly. Those tattoos would give Elain a heart attack. Besides, she’s—“

Her sentence was cut off when she ran face first into a wall of black.

“Hey!” She seethed. “Watch where you’re…” Nesta looked up, ready to give the offending obstacle her famed I-will-slay-my-enemies expression. Her gaze drifted up… and up and up. Over the collar of the tight fitting black tee and the tendrils of ink that peeked out over it. Over the jaw that was sharp as a knife. Over the beautiful lips, straight nose, and high cheekbones. Until her eyes were met with churning hazel — nearly gold. The bassist.

Holy fuck, was he pretty.

Nesta gaped at him, all lean muscle and height. Not as ruggedly handsome as the drummer, but unfairly gorgeous, nonetheless. Beautiful enough to make the two women gape as he stared back down at them, his face a mask of cool disinterest.

Absolute, awkward silence.

“Um… could you let me through, please?” His voice was as deep and rich as the instrument he played, even if it was soft as a whisper.

What planet of perfection had this guy come from?

“Oh, yeah,” Feyre stammered, pushing Nesta to the side. “Sorry.” The towering, tattooed god of a man passed between them as they stared, slack-jawed.

Forget the drummer. An angel had just appeared before them. Nesta dramatically sucked in a breath as her sister began giggling like a fan girl.

Typical.

But there was still a chance to shoot her shot—

“Az!” Someone called from behind them. And then, passing between them as the bassist had, a blur of cobalt blue topped with a curtain of copper bounded up to the tall, dark, handsome man.

And his whole demeanor… changed.

He’d turned just in time for the woman to barrel into him, and his whole face lit up. If Nesta had thought him attractive before, that bright white smile — complete with a little dimple on one side — sent him straight into drop-dead gorgeous territory.

“Bird. You made it,” the bassist — Az, apparently — murmured into the woman’s hair, his arms wrapping around her shoulders. Her arms were pale against his bronzed skin, and Nesta couldn’t help but notice how much she looked like…

“Gwyn?”

Her pin straight mane flew as the woman’s head jerked, meeting Nesta’s stare with wide, teal eyes.

“Nesta? What are you—“

“Wait, this is the guy you’ve been seeing?” Nesta didn’t need to wait for an answer. Not when Gwyn’s cheeks turned the most incriminating shade of pink.

With a nervous laugh, she replied, “Nesta, this is Azriel.” Icy eyes narrowed on the couple, keenly aware that Azriel’s hand had not moved from Gwyn’s hip and Gwyn’s arm had remained around the musician’s waist. “Azriel, Nesta.”

“I’m Feyre,” Nesta’s sister chimed in, earning a scathing side-eye.

The towering bassist chuckled, pulling Gwyn into his side and dipping his chin toward her. “Have you been keeping me a secret from your friends, Gwyneth?” He teased, only fanning her blush into a roaring red.

Turning to him with beseeching eyes, she exclaimed, “No!” Then she dragged her lower lip between her teeth and looked away from him. “I just… haven’t dated much and I wanted it to be… all mine. For a bit.”

Well, much to Nesta’s displeasure, that was incredibly sweet. It wasn’t that she was unhappy with Gwyn — the redhead she’d met at work was more like a sister to her than a friend, and she deserved only the most wonderful things.

It was the musician that was the focal point of her skepticism now. She’d been drooling over him only moments before, but a man would have to be nearly perfect to even get close to being deserving of Gwyneth Berdara.

Azriel leaned in and pressed his lips tenderly against Gwyn’s temple. “Of course, bird. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Well, he sure was smooth, wasn’t he?

“It’s nice to meet you both,” he added with a warm smile and a nod. “You can come back to the green room with us if you want. We have some food and a bar. And I’m sure Rhys and Cass would love the company.”

And with that, Azriel returned his focus to the freckle-faced woman at his side, guiding her gently down the hall. After a moment of stunned silence, Nesta shook her head and began to follow, dragging her sister along.

Perhaps the drummer would do, after all.

Tag List... I don't have my Gwynriel list handy, so sorry in advance...

@headcanonheadcase @daevastanner @beaumaismortel @vikingmagic33 @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @sunshinebingo @shadowsxgwynriel @freyjas-musings @foreverinelysian @mystical-blaise @positivewitch @thecrispypotatochip @sv0430 @almosttenaciousmoon @aldbooks

#gwynriel #gwynriel fic #gwynriel supremacy #rockband au #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #gwyneth berdara #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #fanfiction #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel fanfic #gwynriel drabble #fluff #acotar #acotar fic

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