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#blame my poor time management skills

beingcluelessiguess · 2 years

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i'm just feeling so empty and frustrated right now i dont wanna finish this task but i need to but i'd need to stay awake until 3am at least and i have a meeting at 10am idk if I'd be able to wake up and get to my company on time im tired i dont wanna do this anymore

#and i have no one else to blame except my poor time management skills and my inability to delegate tasks to others #personal #edit: i did get to my company on time and the meeting went so well #the group was so funny and likeable

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shanastoryteller · 1 month

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happy Valentine’s Day!! Merlin or dealers choice?

a continuation of 1 2 3 4

"Oh no."

Merlin pauses in cleaning the table - spilling the soup had been an accident but the fact that Arthur had been so quick to dodge probably says something poor about his track record - to look up. Anything that upsets Arthur tends to become his problem eventually. "What's wrong?"

Arthur's reading a letter with a crease between his eyebrows. Actually wasn't he just reading the most recent report from Ealdor? Where did that come from?

He sighs, dropping the letter on top of the scroll Merlin had thought he'd been reading. "My aunt wants my help softening up my father. Except he's just going to blame me for this because my uncle keeps making those comments about taking hostages."

He's probably spent too much in the castle because he's actually able to parse out what he's talking about. "Lady Nimeuh took someone hostage?"

She's supposedly returned to the castle several times in the past month but Merlin's managed to avoid her so far. She's apparently rather skilled in portals and doesn't bother with doors, jumping across several kingdoms as she's needed and almost never bothering to dine in the great hall.

"It seems she's stolen an apprentice," he sighs, rubbing his forehead. "From Camelot. What a sorceress is doing there in the first place I have no idea, but this is definitely one they're going to miss. Couldn't she take the son of a blacksmith or someone useless? What was she doing in Camelot in the first place?"

"An apprentice?" Merlin asks weakly. Great another person for him to avoid - from Camelot and a sorceress! Although maybe those two things cancel each other out.

Arthur rubs his hand over his face. "She's the daughter of Lord Gorlois."

Wait. "She's kidnapping a noble?"

"Now you see what she wants me to talk to my father first," he says dryly.

He'd really thought it couldn't get any worse.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #merlin

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lauraneedstochill · 1 year

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I won’t fall for someone who can’t misbehave

summary: Aemond is betrothed to the sweetest girl in the Seven Kingdoms. She's smiley, soft and kind-hearted. Until she isn't. (or, alternatively: "No one took your side when you were a kid. But I'm doing it now.")

pairing: Aemond Targaryen and F!Reader (her House is not specified) words: 9000 +

warnings: slow (!) burn, attempted harassment, Aemond is in pain 70% of the time (headache and all that) and has no clue how to act around someone he's clearly in love with.

author's note: I'm working on 3 fics at the moment, and it's taking forever to finish (yay for my poor time management skills!), so I whipped up something short(er) for starters. I'm a bit more comfortable with sharing this one because I feel like it's actually more of my style (wow, that sounds kinda pretentious). Rhaenyra is the queen here but I barely mention the blacks (not out of spite, I just thought it wouldn't add anything to the story). also, I don't think women would be allowed to misbehave like that... I don't care ;)

Aemond knew of the preplanned betrothal even though everyone around him was ridiculously mysterious about the subject matter. He's been made aware of the upcoming visit of some noble family, and the preparations were quite extensive. Then he overheard Baela telling Jace that the expected guests will bring their daughter. The middle one. It wasn't very hard for Aemond to put two and two together. His wedding was long overdue, and Alicent was eager for him to make his choice. But he dreaded the mere thought of it.

Aemond's never been very good at courting women, but mostly due to the lack of trying. He's used to them looking at him with fear and suspicion as if he's some kind of wild animal ready to attack at any minute. Getting sidelong glances did hurt him growing up, but with time Aemond learned to benefit from it, using his fearsome image as a shield. No one ever dared to try and break it to see what was underneath. But now he is faced with the inevitable change that's approaching his life at the speed of a storm wave. To him, taking off the eyepatch won't be nearly as excruciating as giving into the vulnerability of letting someone in, opening up to someone. He's never been afraid of much but that? That was terrifying.

The anticipation made Aemond nervous. He knew he should probably ask around and try to gain any information about his soon-to-be wife, but it felt wrong. Not knowing felt even worse. No matter how good of a fighter he was, fighting the uncertainty seemed like a challenge. Aemond spent his nights tossing and turning, wrapped up in blankets as insomnia was clinging to his body. He tried to busy himself with training, but his usual easy victories brought him no satisfaction. He's been winning for so long maybe it was time for him to lose. Except not to his training partners but to a stranger, who in time will get a permanent place in his life.

His rides with Vhagar, which usually brought him peace, now had the opposite effect. The old dragon acted annoyed and disgruntled for no reason, huffing and grumbling at every turn as if she could sense his own frustration. You can’t tame your emotions yet I’m supposed to listen to your commands? Silly boy. If Vhagar could speak, she would probably tell him that, Aemond thought. And he blamed himself even more.

Somewhere in the midst of it all, the headache came back. As usual, it started with a feeling of pounding heaviness in the back of his head, which then spread further: into his temples, forehead and down the hateful scar. Within a couple of days, the pain gets so bad, he has to grit his teeth to keep a straight face, and he's barely able to shove a few bits of food down his throat. But it's a topic he never brings up, it's a humiliating secret that's just between him and his mother. When he lost his eye, for the first month the pain was close to unbearable. The maester kept telling him that it was caused by the healing of skin tissues and assured that the intolerable feeling would go away. It never did. His scar was something he learned to cover up, and the bright red stripe faded slightly with time, but the pain lingered. Aemond opted to think that it only contributed to him becoming more resilient, yet that argument didn't withstand the test of time. The pain receded for some short periods, but then it'd always come back, and he could never get used to that, no matter how hard he tried.

He can only hope it will get better by the time the guests arrive. But the gods seem deaf to his prayers, and the night before the event he doesn't get a wink of sleep. He goes through his day in a daze, skipping the training session to hide in the library instead, although he can't bring himself to focus and read more than a single page. When the time comes for him to walk into the dining hall, it's the last thing he wants to do but he forces himself to go. Festive ornaments, tables laden with the finest dishes, bright-colored clothing of everyone around him blend and blur into each other. He takes deep breaths and counts his steps, gathering all his strength to sit down and not wince at the movement.

All it takes is one look at him for Alicent to understand what's going on.

"Aemond," she approaches him, whispering. "What's wrong? Is it the headache again?"

Aemond doesn't want to admit it, but he lacks the energy to deny it either so he just nods. She gives him a regretful look, gently squeezing his shoulder.

"Should I call for the maester? Maybe he will be able to come up with something to ease the pain."

"I don't think we have time to fuss over me," he declines with a pain-stained voice. "I was under the impression that we're expecting someone to join us today."

Alicent sighs. She knows better than to fight his stubbornness, but she hates how helpless it makes her feel. Aemond hates that feeling, too.

"Please don't tell me you require motivation," Aegon's voice is loud as it is but right now it sounds deafening, and Aemond sharply exhales. His brother flops on a nearby chair, bringing his ignorant attitude with him.

"Undoubtedly you've interacted with women before," he chuckles, completely unaware of Aemond's suffering. "Try not to scare her with your creepy stare, and maybe she won't run away."

Alicent briefly closes her eyes in annoyance. She glances around, making sure not to attract any attention, and then grabs Aegon by the chin, forcing him to look at her.

"Enough with pestering, I need you to behave yourself," her voice is tinged with irritation. "Just for one evening. Can you do that?"

Aegon's body stiffens up, the smug look disappearing from his face.

"As you wish, mother," he mutters, and she lets go of him. Alicent shoots another glance at Aemond before leaving. Aegon gives his brother a side-eye but says nothing.

Aemond is exhausted, anxiety's bubbling in his chest, and he thinks he has a few more minutes to compose himself yet that time passes in the blink of an eye. Before he knows it, the guards at the door make the announcement, and he sees a group of unfamiliar faces. None of them are of his age, though, and for a moment that realization brings him some comfort. But then he notices a female figure in the distance as she's approaching the entrance.

When she walks in, the music goes quiet, and Aemond hears people gasping. It seems like every man in the room has his gaze on her. And she certainly is a sight for sore eyes. She moves with a gracious pace, the silky fabric of her dress flowing downward with every step. It's not too revealing, but it hugs her body in all the right places. Her hair is up, and he can see the waves of her collarbones peaking through. A half-smile is plastered on her face, but she doesn't seem to be nervous. If he was to take a guess, he would've said she was tired. But she won't let it show, keeping her head high and being seemingly unaware of the attention she got. Maybe she's used to it just like he is, Aemond thinks. Although people usually glare at him for a completely different reason.

"Someone is about to get a piece of cake," Aegon elbows him lightly, his voice low.

"Someone needs to shut up," Aemond snarls, earning a laugh from his brother. That catches her attention, and her gaze lands on Aemond. When their eyes meet, her face softens, smile growing wider. He tries his best to force a wan smile in return, but his stomach turns in discomfort. He can already imagine how people will react: a stunning woman like her with a man like him, what a tragedy. That thought stings, his anxiety growing stronger. The headache gets worse, and he tightens his grip on a cup of wine that he hasn't even tasted yet. Aemond can't help but wonder if she knew she would have to marry him. If it does bother her as much as it bothers him.

The members of her family are greeted as guests, with no mention of a possible betrothal. Her name is the only one he catches — and then silently repeats it a few times. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, the sound of it breaking through his clouded mind. She's seated next to him, as expected, and he notes that her dress compliments her eye color. Aemond is thinking of a way to start a conversation, but she beats him to it:

"You gave us such a warm welcome, but I must admit, I'm surprised by the scale of it. I hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience?"

When her words reach his ears, the buzzing in his head stops, and Aemond turns to Y/N, astonished by his own reaction. It's not the naivety of her question, nor the friendly tone of it. It's just her voice. Melodic and mellow, it feels soothing among the loud noises they're surrounded with.

"I assure you, your family was simply welcomed with the respect you deserve," he answers pensively. His throat is sore, but he can't steel himself to take a sip of wine, afraid that it will make him sick. He wants her to speak again.

Aemond asks about her family, letting Y/N lead the conversation. She's easy to talk to and she gives just the right amount of information before jumping to another topic. At any other time, he would've really enjoyed the flow of it, yet now he is growing weary. The headache is still there, but her voice does bring him some relief. That's until she abruptly stops.

"Are you feeling alright?" she sounds worried, and the same emotion is written on her face. Aemond tries to blink away his exhaustion.

"I apologize if I'm not exactly the best at keeping you company. It's been a long day," he knows he should've come up with a better excuse. He feels like he can hardly function at this point.

She keeps her attention on him for a few more seconds. Then Y/N moves her eyes to the other end of the table, where her family is seated. She makes eye contact with her father and gives him a big yawn. It's obviously and comically fake but it works: her family finds an excuse to leave earlier. Aemond knows that now he also got a chance to escape soon after. He feels a pang of guilt knowing that he's the reason their conversation was cut short, but Y/N doesn't make a big deal out of it.

"We shall continue on the morrow when we are both well rested," she smiles reassuringly at him before leaving.

Aemond seriously doubts that he'll get any rest as his head feels like it's gripped in an iron vise again.

The next morning he drags himself out of bed later than usual, the pain now dull but present nonetheless. He sits with his face in his hands, breathing in and out, until he's almost numb. The almost leaves a sour feeling in his mouth — or maybe it's the nausea, he doesn't know nor does he care. He's been handling this for years, he can survive another day.

Aemond decides that since he is to be wed, he should make an effort for it to work. He thinks about his duty, his mother, about Y/N, who traveled all the way to the King's Landing for a man she's never met before. Aemond thinks of everyone but himself because there's only so much he can do without draining himself completely.

He missed the breakfast already but hopes to find Y/N within the perimeter of the castle and rushes out of the bedroom. He's passing by Helaena's chambers when he hears someone laughing. And it's not his sister. Aemond debates if he can deal with kids right now, but chooses to give it a chance and quietly walks in. Helaena has embroidery in her hands but seems more focused on a sight in front of her, and he follows her gaze. Y/N is sitting on the floor with her back to the door, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera are on either side of her, their cheeks plump and pink, tiny fingers grabbing her dress. She's reading to them, and it's a tale they've heard many times before, yet the kids are listening attentively, occasionally making noises of excitement. Aemond doesn't need to speak gibberish to know that they are fascinated by the melody of her voice and the playful tone she uses to make the story more engaging. He leans on the door frame, his body relaxing at the sound. Jaehaera puts her head on Y/N's shoulder and eagerly turns the page, making her laugh again.

"You are an impatient little thing," Y/N giggles.

"That she is," Helaena agrees, and when Y/N turns to her, she is surprised to see that Aemond joined them.

"Pardon me, I didn't hear you coming in," she stands up in a hurry, both kids are instantly glued to her. "Your sister was kind enough to keep me company."

"I asked her to come by after breakfast, and they haven't left her side ever since," Helaena explains, sounding very pleased.

"Would you mind if I steal this new friend of yours?" Aemond asks while keeping his eye on Y/N, waiting for her reaction. Her face flushes but he sees no indication of discontent. Aemond grudgingly admits to himself that it brings him something akin to joy. But it fades, absorbed by his numbness.

"Make sure to be on time for dinner," his sister nods, calling for the nanny to take the kids.

It takes a little bit of persuasion but eventually Jaehaerys and Jaehaera let Y/N go, and she follows Aemond out of the room. Y/N mentions that Helaena wanted to show her the library, and Aemond agrees to take her there. Along the way, he strikes up a conversation in attempt to compensate for their last one. As she's telling him about her morning, her voice seeps into his mind like honey, and Aemond tries to concentrate to take the right turns and not trip on the stairs.

When they walk into the library, Y/N pauses, looking around in awe. This woman makes men turn around after her, yet she is so easily impressed by the simplest things, Aemond thinks. The prince wonders if she'll ever be impressed by him.

"This is where you study?" she's admiring endless rows of shelves, and Aemond gives her an affirmative "hmm".

"How many of these have you read?"

"Quiet a few," he is modest as ever, and she shoots him a curious look.

"I wonder what are your preferred subjects."

"History and philosophy," he doesn't mean to sound so terse, but whatever interactions with women he's had before, that experience obviously didn't turn him into a lady's man.

"Would you be so kind to share your favorite books with me?" when Y/N glances at him, there's a sparkle in her eyes. It looks like she's actually interested to know more, as if she does want to know him. His immediate response, however, is to distance himself, and he takes a step back.

"I'm afraid there are not enough hours in the day to name them all," Aemond opposes, hands clasped behind his back.

"Please, take pity on me, I need something to help me pass the time," she presses the matter further but does so very gently. "Name just a couple."

He gives into her pleading tone and reluctantly agrees but they don't stop at just a couple. They end up spending the day roaming in the library, lost in the labyrinth of shelves and books. She's never too pushy with her questions, she's making small jokes, she doesn't take offense at his cold demeanor. Behind his mask of feigned indifference, Aemond feels like someone is hammering at his left temple, and the pain echoes through his whole body. But he doesn't dare to leave Y/N hanging for the second day in a row.

The prince is too preoccupied with his internal struggle to notice that she's growing worried about him again, and by the time they come back for dinner, her face expresses an alarming concern.

"I must apologize if I tired you out with my relentless chatting," she says, almost whispering, when they're seated.

"You did not, no need to fret," Aemond states. I must apologize that you are to marry a man who can't curb the pain that's spilling out of him, he thinks.

Food is tasteless in his mouth. Y/N is sitting on his right, and Aemond's body can't adjust to the foreign feeling of someone being in his close proximity. He's so accustomed to being on his own, he doesn't know how to unlearn that.

Throughout the whole dinner, Aemond can feel his mother's gaze on him. Later that evening, when a maid brings him a cup filled with the milk of the poppy, he decides against taking it.

He regrets it the very next day.

When Aemond tries to lift his head off the pillow, he feels like his skull is full of rocks. They're rolling from side to side as the pain rumbles, and for a few minutes he can't hear anything else around him. That's why, when Aemond opens his eye, he's startled at the sight of his mother standing in the doorway.

"I did knock but got no response," she gives him a look that's a mix of concern and suspicion. She suspects that he's unwell again and it concerns her. He wishes she never knew of that burden of his.

Aemond moves up in his bed, clenching his jaw. He knows his mother well enough to realize she must've had a reason for this early visit. Alicent proves him right when she speaks:

"The queen went into labor a couple of hours ago."

He absentmindedly hums, not knowing how to react. His mother continues, with a hint of hesitance:

"There will be a feast when the baby is born. We thought... Rhaenyra and I, we thought it would also make for an occasion to do the announcement. About your betrothal."

Her words come as no surprise to Aemond. It is what's expected of him, it's about his duty and his responsibilities, but this time he doesn't want to think of that. He wants to be left alone, to drown in the layers of blankets, to go back to his short-lived slumber.

"The day Y/N arrived, I asked the queen to postpone the announcement. To give you some time to get to know each other," Alicent takes a few steps towards his bed. "It seems like you're getting along quite well?"

"I could think of no better woman than Y/N," Aemond admits and it is true. What he doesn't say is that he can also think of a dozen other men who would be more deserving of her, more than he is.

Alicent catches the discreet sadness in his words but doesn't know what caused it. She eyes her son with undisguised empathy.

"Her father implied that she is content with the betrothal, too. I thought you'd be happy to know," Alicent gives him a lax smile. "I shall let you go back to sleep," she adds and leaves.

Aemond knows he'll get no sleep now. He repeats the well-known routine of deep breaths with the minimum movements, scraping up the remains of his strength before leaving the room. He goes straight to Y/N's chambers, wondering if his mother visited her, too, and how that visit went.

To his surprise, Y/N is nowhere to be found. A maid informs him that she left the room a few hours ago. He can't find her in the library and she isn't in Helaena's chambers, either. He searches for her in the courtyard and then goes back to roam through the corridors, peering into every room on his way. He's lost in his thoughts until he hears Y/N calling his name. Aemond turns around — and there she is, at the other end of the hall.

"I've been looking for you," she skips towards the prince, beaming. He could never imagine anyone being this happy at the sight of him. She stops when they're only a couple of meters apart, her smile glowing.

"We must've passed each other, because I've been looking for you, too," he confesses. Y/N seems very pleased with herself though he isn't sure why.

"I think the weather calls for a walk," she blithely suggests. "Would you like to accompany me?" — as the words leave her mouth, she reaches out a hand to him. For a moment Aemond's looking at her baffled, and then hesitantly takes Y/N's hand. Her skin is soft, fingers warm, and she intertwines them with his own. That gesture comes so naturally as if they've done it before, yet Aemond clearly hasn't. The feeling of holding someone's hand is unusual to him. But it seems enjoyable.

By the time they get to the garden, Aemond finds that her hand fits perfectly in his. He's blushing profusely. He also notices that his headache receded a little and he can't help but think that Y/N was the reason for that.

"Your mother came to me this morning," she informs him as they are walking hand in hand. "I assume she talked to you, too?"

"She did," Aemond confirms. "Am I right to guess we had the same conversation?"

"Well, mine was about uniting two great Houses," Y/N mimics a man's voice, and Aemond grasps that Otto was there, too. "Your grandfather gave a very convincing speech".

"He had a lot of practice while being the Hand of the King. Maybe he misses having an audience," the prince chuckles and she laughs. Aemond holds a pause and then adds:

"Forgive me if I'm being too blunt but I wonder if the conversation was of unpleasant nature to you."

"It was not," she slows her steps. "I know what's expected of me and I will perform my duty. But if I'm being honest...," she turns to him, and the tenderness of her gaze tugs at his heart. "I am glad that it's you," Aemond feels a flare of an unknown emotion deep in his chest. "We'll make a pretty good team. Wouldn't you agree?"

Aemond lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He looks down at their hands and then back at Y/N.

"It seems so," he tells her, a slight smile in the corner of his lips. There's a moment of comfortable silence as they make a short stop in the shade of the trees.

"But I shall give you a warning," Y/N says with a mischievous grin. "My siblings take any celebration very seriously. Every single relative of ours will come to the wedding, and most of them won't shy away from enjoying a cup of wine... Or two".

"Can any of them outdrink Aegon?" he jokes, and Y/N bursts into laughter.

Aemond gets carried away by their conversation once again, losing track of time. While she's listing her relatives, adding innocuous remarks about each of them, the prince is enthralled by the warmth that radiates off her. Her presence alone calms the storm of his insecurities, lulling his fears to sleep. She does that so effortlessly, it's almost intimidating. But there's a certain thrill to it, too — the thrill of being close to her, sharing laughs and stories, and Aemond clings to that feeling.

He enjoys the moment while it lasts; until his headache predictably creeps up on him a few hours later. He can't tell if Y/N senses that something is wrong but she's the one to suggest returning to the castle. Aemond gladly accepts it.

On the way back they're greeted by one of the guards who notifies them that the queen gave birth to a girl. Y/N lightly squeezes Aemond's hand.

"Tomorrow is a big day then," — and the prince knows exactly what she means. The fragile bond that they only started to get the hang of will soon become public knowledge. It won't be their secret anymore but rather an over-discussed gossip.

"There is still time for you to plan an escape," Aemond jests half-heartedly.

Y/N looks puzzled for a second, but then shakes her head:

"Only if you're planning one. We are in this together, remember?" her thumb brushes over his. "It's all about teamwork."

Aemond savors the last fleeting minutes of their day. He barely touches the food at dinner, the pain in his head intensifying but he pushes through. When the time comes for them to part, he doesn't want to. That feeling is alien to him and the prince is clueless about its nature. But he knows that with her any misery will be bearable.

When Aemond walks into his chambers, he notices a little jar on the bed table. It's the one that the maester used to bring him the ointments in, and the prince sighs. The maester doesn't grasp the extent of the problem but occasionally would suggest a thing or two to help with the pain. They've tried using cold packs, then the warm ones, tried massaging his temples, then drinking cinnamon tea, then adding some ginger that's known as a remedy for reducing inflammation... Nothing has worked so far.

But he should make an effort.

Aemond barely glances inside the jar and tosses away a piece of paper with the instructions scribbled on it. The prince already knows it all too well: he applies a thick layer of whatever that concoction is on his scar, involuntarily wincing at the cooling sensation. It smells of herbs and feels oily but absorbs into the skin pretty fast.

For some reason, his mind goes back to his mother's words — "I thought you'd be happy to know". Aemond is unsure what happiness means. The happiest day of his life is forever chained with the worst one, smeared with blood and pain that he's been carrying through the years.

But now that he met Y/N, he questions if there's more to life than what he's been through so far.

While he is laying in bed, Aemond wonders if can consider Y/N his friend. If she will ever be more than just a friend to him.

And then, before he knows it, the prince is fast asleep.

He wakes up feeling like a new man. At first, he mistakes that feeling for the remnants of his dreams that he was enveloped with at night. He shakes off his drowsiness and looks at the ceiling, catching a glint of sunlight that seeped through the curtains. That's when Aemond realizes that the pain is gone.

He sits up, bewildered, waiting for any sign of discomfort yet nothing happens. He waits for a couple of minutes — and then for up to thirty, but his head is clear and doesn't ache at all. His eye shifts to the jar on the bed table, and Aemond makes a note to extend his gratitude to the maester later. Suddenly the upcoming festivities don't seem so torturous anymore.

He doesn't get a chance to see Y/N throughout the day as everyone is preparing for the feast. When Aemond walks into the hall of the Iron Throne, he takes in the decorated surroundings. Unlike the last time he was here, now he wants to remember every detail, knowing that this evening would be of great importance.

The room fills with people, but Aemond patiently waits for her alone. He spots Y/N the second she steps in. Her dress is violet, the material bright and luminous, and it puts her into the spotlight yet again since she's the only one wearing that color. As soon as she takes her place at the table next to Aemond, her hand finds his. He's getting used to that way too fast. It's hard not to.

The first round of toasts goes to honor Visenya, the newborn daughter of the Queen. Rhaenyra willingly tolerates the sweet talk, generous with her smiles and appreciation. At some point, when the timing seems right or maybe when her cheeks are already aching, she gives a nod to Alicent, and Aemond knows what it means. As she starts her speech, he ruefully releases Y/N's hand.

But right when they're standing up, with everyone around cheering and staring, Y/N lightly presses her body against his, and Aemond feels how tense her back is. That's when it dawns on him that she's well aware of the attention but she doesn't really like it. Instinctively, he puts his fingers on her waist, his touch respectful and delicate. She breathes out and briefly rests the back of her head against his shoulder. For a moment it feels like it's just the two of them.

That feeling doesn't go away.

Usually, he's not the one to take part in dancing, but he does so for her. Aemond feels out of practice and he can't tell if that's what makes his head spin or if he's getting tipsy from the intimacy of their dance. Her moves are elegant, well-rehearsed, her body follows the rhythm of the music with ease. He doesn't remember when was the last time that silly activity brought him so much elation. Did it ever?

Time flows by in a blur, and they eventually take a pause after going into a fit of giggles at the sight of Lord Velaryon trying to improvise a move and failing, only to amuse his loving wife. Y/N suggests going out for a while and Aemond is keen on following her but then his mother catches up to them, her hand and her gaze are on him in an instant, pulling him away.

"Aemond, you've been dancing," she can't hide her bewilderment, a timid smile on her face.

"Should I not? Seems like a suitable occasion," Aemond chaffs with a tilt of his head.

"It is, indeed," she doesn't let him go just yet, and he discerns the hidden meaning of her words, the apprehension she fails to conceal. Aemond wants to grant her some respite, at least for the rest of the day, so he tells her with plain-spoken sincerity:

"I can assure you, this isn't a cause for your distress."

But then he quickly finds a cause for his when he doesn't see Y/N around. He goes searching for her in the crowd, then leaves the room altogether, coming out into the hallway.

Aemond hears her before he sees her — and she isn't alone. It takes no effort to recognize the second voice, which belongs to no other than Jason Lannister. As the prince rounds the corner, they come into sight, and Aemond has a very bad feeling.

He missed the start of their dialogue, and the look on Y/N's face is unreadable. She's oblivious to Aemond's presence and he decides to watch them. He tells himself that he'll never allow her to get into trouble. There is something very tempting in having a chance to save her from anything; as if he feels the need to prove himself to her. He tries not to entertain that thought.

"... It's not too late to change that, don't you think," Ser Lannister purrs, his tone sickly sweet but arrogant.

"It is. Which I have no regrets about, ser", when Y/N talks to him there's not a hint of friendliness in her voice.

"Your approach may be short-sighted. The proposition of mine wasn't of a frivolous kind," he's circling her, the manner of his movement is borderline predatory.

"I believe you will soon find a lady to welcome your advances but I would very much prefer to drop this conversation," she recapitulates.

Aemond tenses up, feeling like this is the moment for him to step in. Then he looks at Y/N and realizes that something is off. Her face expression changes — but it's not a look of fear. By the rising of her chest, he detects that her breathing sped up, eyes are shooting daggers at the man in front of her. She's looking, for the lack of a better word, positively furious.

But Ser Lannister, apparently, is not very good at reading signs as he comes improperly close to her.

"I can be very persuasive," his fingers fall on her back — and then go lower. "I think you should appreciate the attention while I'm this generous and..."

He doesn't finish his sentence. In about two seconds his face is suddenly slammed into the nearby wall, the hand he put on her is now twisted behind his back. Y/N uses her free hand to push right between his shoulder blades, pressing him into the stony surface.

To say that Aemond is shocked would be an understatement.

Right at this moment, she looks like a different person. This side of her he's not acquainted with but it only adds to her appeal. The change is barely perceptible: she's still maintaining her posture, keeping up the face of a woman who knows her worth. But Aemond catches a flaming spark of defiance that threatens to shutter her restraint. He can sense her anger from far away despite her doing her best to contain it.

"I do not know what kind of attention you are used to, but you're forgetting your manners. Next time you dare lay your hand on me, I will not hesitate to break it," her voice doesn't lose its usual softness, but now has an added layer to it. It sounds sharper, bolder. It sounds like she's not afraid of anything.

Y/N lets Ser Lannister go, taking a few steps back and smoothing her dress. He's frozen at first, but then slowly turns to her.

"You didn't... You did not just do that," there's a visible red mark on his cheek that will undoubtedly turn into a bruise.

"Did what, ser?" her tone is laced with coldness.

The man looks at her in disbelief, his face is a parade of emotions — from shock to annoyance to anger.

"You will not get away with this," he scowls, nettled.

"You're telling me that you're considering letting everyone know you were overpowered by a woman? Sounds hard to believe," Y/N seems unfazed.

His mouth opens and closes a few times before he roars:

"You, insidious wre...!"

This time Aemond is the one to interrupt the man:

"I suggest you watch your tone when speaking to my betrothed," Y/N flinches at his voice, turning to face him, and Aemond slackens his pace a little.

"Shouldn't she watch hers? She's talking to a lord," Ser Lannister exclaims lamely, his arrogance instantly toned down a notch.

"And I see no wrongdoing on her part. Care to explain what got you into this situation?"

"It was a... a simple misunderstanding," his excuse is so pathetic that it makes the prince sneer.

"And what was the matter in question?" Aemond comes closer to the man which makes ser Lannister evidently uncomfortable. He carefully contemplates his next move.

"I only wanted to extend my congratulations on her betrothal," the man fakes a smile. "Mayhaps I expressed myself poorly".

"You should opt to choose your words more wisely next time," Aemond looks down on him. "Perhaps you are needed somewhere else?"

"I shall rejoin the celebration then," ser Lannister eagerly agrees and bows out way too quickly.

Aemond can barely wait for the man to get out of sight before turning to Y/N. Even though the prince witnessed the whole thing, he can't stop himself from asking:

"Did he harm you?"

"He didn't get a chance," she mumbles, avoiding his gaze. She looks so embarrassed, he wants to offer her some comfort but isn't sure how.

"Dare I say we've got enough interactions for one evening?" Aemond tries to lighten the mood yet she only offers him a half-hearted smile.

"I'll escort you to your chambers," the prince suggests, and before she can argue he adds: "I know you can stand up for yourself if needed. But I insist."

Y/N doesn't move an inch.

"...You are not mad at me?" she's looking at him with doe-eyed sincerity, clearly upset. Aemond is mad at himself.

"I'm thinking about cutting his arm off," he says under his breath, but she catches it.

"Aemond, there's no need!" Y/N gasps and he sees a glimpse of a smile on her lips.

"I will have to disagree," he starts but then she grasps his elbow and Aemond's hand — finally — clings to her again.

"I don't want you to get in trouble because of me," Y/N confesses.

"And I don't want you to get hurt," his fingers caress her arm through the lace material. Y/N's cheeks heat up and Aemond finds it adorable.

"I think I... I was the one who did some damage," she complains.

"You must imagine my surprise," Aemond drawls, teasing.

"Oh, Gods," a quiet groan leaves her mouth. "That was not very ladylike of me."

Y/N covers her face with the other hand, her grip on his arm loosening. Aemond dithers before gently brushing her palm away from her face.

"You did the right thing and you have nothing to be ashamed of," he enunciates each word. "He only sets an example of unseemly behavior."

"I'm afraid I wasn't too far off," Y/N remarks, her voice relenting.

"Hmm, you're certainly not to be truffled with," he retorts, earning a faint laugh from her as they start walking, arm in arm.

"May I inquire how did you... master that very handy skill?" Aemond ventures to ask. That image of her — brave and unapologetic in her anger — will be forever engraved in his memory. Aemond is apprehensive about voicing his curiosity, uncertain of her reaction but when she answers:

"My father taught me that," her tone is surprisingly impish.

"And how did you manage to talk him into it?"

"Talking didn't help much, actually," Y/N grins. "And then I broke my brother's nose and my father decided he should find a way to guide my enthusiasm."

"How old were you?"

"Nine," she looks so satisfied with herself, Aemond can't hold back the laugh.

Y/N joins him and they fall into the comfort of each other's company. But then her smile wilts.

"There was a time when I was the youngest child and my siblings... They weren't very nice back then," she blurts out. Aemond feels his heart sinking.

"What did they do?"

"Oh, it wasn't that bad, honestly, they were only teasing. It's just um," she's looking for the right words or maybe for an acceptable explanation, but there isn't any. "It was very tiresome mostly. I could never understand the reason for them being mean."

Aemond is yet to tell her the story of him losing his eye, and the memory pops back into his head in a flash. He knows exactly what she feels, his own sense of helplessness fresh in his memory. And it still stings the same, and Aemond loathes that.

While he revisits the past, unwillingly slowing his pace, Y/N spots the change in his demeanor within seconds. She sees his facial features congealing, his fingers clenching, and she comes to the only conclusion she can make.

"Is it the headache?" her voice is suddenly quiet, and Aemond comes to an abrupt stop. The question catches him off guard, words stuck in his throat and his mouth agape. He doesn't know how to react nor does he understand how could she possibly know that. Y/N is quick to clear up his confusion:

"I noticed not long after we met and then your mother confirmed my suspicions. I am sorry that I didn't ask you directly, I thought... I didn't want to sound intrusive," she explains coyly.

"By asking about my health?" he finds his voice again. "I am to become your husband, you are free to ask such questions."

"We've only known each other for about a day back then. Surely, you're allowed to take more time than that to open up to someone," she kindly points out.

A day. Up until now the only person who's known about his pain was his mother, and for years no one else ever questioned his well-being. And it took her a day to notice that something was wrong.

"Did the ointment help?" she asks hopefully. For a second he thinks he heard her wrong but the shadow of concern on Y/N's face tells him otherwise.

"That was your doing?" he can't hide his amazement, and it elicits a laugh from her, sonorous and dulcet. Aemond likes the sound of it, he really does.

"I've been fortunate to obtain the knowledge required," she informs him.

"And what kind of witchcraft is it?"

"It is not," she playfully elbows him. "It was something my grandfather taught me. He used to have an ache of a similar nature. No one could understand the cause of it, and it only got worse with age. But my grandmother refused to sit idly by and one day she found a way to ease his pain," Y/N has a dreamy expression on her face but it melts into a wistful one. He guesses that both of her grandparents passed away.

"After her death, he wouldn't let anyone help him. It took me months to persuade him and eventually he let me on her secret," her smile is bittersweet. "Then he died, and I never thought the recipe would come in handy ever again."

Aemond hates seeing her wallow in sadness. He puts his palm on top of her hand in an attempt to offer some consolation. If there was a way to free her of that grief, to take at least some of it upon himself, he would've done it in a heartbeat. But his touch is enough to bring back the cheerfulness in her voice.

"I should mention that your maester did help, too, although he was reluctant at first," Y/N reveals.

"And I presume that it also took some convincing?" Aemond thinks of the maester's face that always looks like he is surrounded by imbeciles.

"I shamelessly boosted his ego," she wrinkles her nose. "Told him there was no way anyone would ever be as skilled as he is, and that my attempt was merely a gesture of goodwill."

"But I wasn't just that," Aemond cordially protests.

They already reached her chambers but he doesn't want to let go of her hand. He wants to tell her that meeting her was like taking a breath of fresh air after being held underwater, like finding a source of light in the pitch darkness of the night or feeling the warmth in the dead of winter. Aemond wants her to know that she's been a saving grace for him, but he's somehow at a loss for words, his thoughts jumbling together.

"It was way more than that and I...," never in his life had he gotten this tongue-tied and flustered. Yet she treats him with the same kindness and with no sign of prejudice, listening closely and keeping her eyes on him. Her gaze is disarming enough to make him say the first thing that comes to mind.

"I must admit, you exceeded my expectations," Aemond breathes out.

It immediately feels like the worst, the dullest choice of words possible, and he wants to sink into the ground right this second. But then he sees her natural smile, genuine and bright, blossoming on her face again.

"I am glad to be of service, my prince," she murmurs the last part, and his heart skips a bit.

He didn't register the moment Y/N came a bit closer, but she isn't shying away from shortening the distance. There's something enamoring about her trusting nature but that's not what draws him in. For the first time, he experiences an unfamiliar feeling that tightens his chest, makes his breathing rapid. His gaze slips over her face, down from her radiant eyes to her smile, framed by the lips that look as soft as freshly bloomed flowers. The feeling melts into an urge — he only needs to take a step, to lean his head forward just a bit and...

Aemond inhales deeply. He thinks they are in no rush, he thinks it would've been disrespectful and naive. He's mostly afraid to misread the situation, to scare her away.

But he wants to make his intentions clear. Aemond runs his thumb over her knuckles, brushing them one by one. And then he takes her hand to his lips, planting a kiss on it. He allows himself just this flicker of bravery before straightening up and releasing her hand. When he looks at Y/N, her gaze is directed at him already. It feels like a particular question is hanging in the air; they let it dissolve for now.

"I shall bid you goodnight," her eyes linger on him for a second before she turns away.

As Aemond watches her go, he is certain he wants them to be more than just friends.

Lucerys's name day comes in a about month, and by that time Aemond's routine has changed drastically. It might look the same: he wakes up with the sun, flies with Vhagar, he trains regularly, he spends his free time reading — except now Y/N is a part of his every activity.

She's never nosy or clingy; he's the one seeking her company at all times. She's an early riser, too, and they're always the first ones at the breakfast table: he asks her about her dreams, they make plans, they poke fun at Aegon, who is perpetually sleepy, and Y/N can effortlessly hold any other conversation with his family which only makes him ever so pleased.

She watches him train with genuine curiosity, she never looks away nor flinches, even when he gets too competitive and rough. Her attention is flattering — and it's all on him, and it feels unusual at first, but becomes empowering and he bathes in it.

When he takes her to meet Vhagar, she's terribly nervous. Aemond jokes that meeting his old dragon will pose no challenge after she handled Ser Lannister. It gives Y/N enough confidence to pat Vhagar's snout as the beast observes her calmly. Aemond assures her that the dragon will never go against his wishes. What he wants to say is that Vhagar senses how he feels about her.

They spend evenings in the library, both absorbed in reading but always sitting close by, their arms and shoulders coming into contact more often than not. He sometimes can't help but get distracted which leads to him forgetting about his book, instead secretly watching her, his glance full of adoration.

For a while, he's oblivious to how inseparable they've become until Helaena tells him one day, while Y/N is playing with Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in his sister's chambers. When Helaena mentions it ever so nonchalantly — "You two seem joined at the hip!", it startles him. But that moment doesn't turn into an awkward one — instead, Aemond realizes that he's not scared anymore.

"I will steal her away from time to time," Helaena says, as cheery as ever.

"Bold of you to assume I will let you," he chuckles, his gaze not leaving Y/N.

"I think she’ll have the last word," his sister retorts with a cunning smile.

Aemond doesn't think twice before admitting:

"She will never say no."

"My point exactly."

The Queen plans a great hunt to celebrate her secondborn son, and a feast is being held in no time. Aemond detests those pompous events yet Y/N seems too enthusiastic about the idea, and he begrudgingly agrees to participate. He doesn't want to burden her with his weighted resentment toward Luke but, as usual, she sees right through him. Y/N asks him if he has any reservations about the upcoming celebration, and that's when he decides to tell her. Aemond doesn't want her to pity him nor does he want to upset her so he keeps the story brief: he claimed the dragon, his siblings didn't like it, things escalated way too quickly and they haven't been on good terms ever since.

She heeds his every word, then bluntly asks:

"Must you really go?"

He ponders before answering with a sigh:

"It would be rude not to. I should pay my respect."

"I wish he had the courtesy to do the same for you," she frowns.

"It would be a little too late for an apology," Aemond shrugs even though her caring tone moves him deeply.

"I still think you deserve one," she says like it's the most obvious, logical thing in the world. He wonders how obvious the reddening of his cheeks is.

"I do not wish to dwell in the past when so many great things lay ahead of me," and he only means her. Having a future with her is his greatest blessing.

She bestows him with her softest smile:

"I guess we should make the best out of the situation we are in. Maybe you will have some fun hunting."

Aemond doesn't know what was her definition of fun, but his definitely doesn't involve babysitting Aegon. Yet that's what he ends up doing as they get separated from the group of hunters and his brother gets so drunk, he can barely stay in the saddle. He babbles and whines and Aemond is on the verge of praying for a miracle when the two of them finally stumble upon a boar. The younger prince catches the animal without a struggle.

"Oh, must be good to be a boar. Wild and free!" Aegon grumbles on their way back to the camp.

"I just slit his throat. I doubt you would want to switch places with him."

"I didn't say I want to switch places," he shakes his head so vigorously, he almost falls down. Aemond moves his horse closer, grabbing Aegon by the shoulder to steady him.

"Although switching places with you sounds tempting," he sneers.

"And why would you ever want that?" Aemond raised his brow questioningly.

"You've got yourself a pretty wife-to-be," Aegon chants and whistles.

"Are you asking for me to tie you to that boar? That can be arranged," Aemond deadpans.

" 'tis won't be necessary," Aegon's quick to object. "Whatever she sees in you, those qualities are not in my possession," his frown turns into a grin and he winks at his brother.

Aemond lightly chuckles:

"You'll get no argument from me."

Leaving Y/N is not an easy task for Aemond but coming back to her might be the second-best thing in the entire world. And the first one, obviously, is being with her.

When they return to the camp, he helps Aegon down, impatiently looking around, and as his eye lands on her, his breathing hitches.

She's standing next to the hunting tent, surrounded by a group of ladies, Helaena by her side and they're both laughing as his sister unsuccessfully tries to finish her sentence. Y/N has a violet in her hair, strands of it falling down her shoulders, her smile bright against the fading evening sun. She helps Helaena to articulate whatever she's talking about, the ladies around them cackling.

Aemond admires his betrothed from afar, savoring the moment.

It amuses him that her softness is a choice, that she chooses to be open-minded and kind, even though the world around her is armed to the teeth, and she does know how to fight back. And yet, that's not what motivates her. Instead, she's an image of benevolence and generosity, always understanding and forgiving, hence why people are so naturally drawn to her. And he is no exception.

Aemond gets distracted when a couple of servants approach him and he instructs them to take the boar's carcass away.

"You had a successful hunt, dear prince," when Aemond hears the question, he rolls his eye. Turning around, he sees Tyland Lannister with a smile so forged his face might crack in half.

"As usual," Aemond answers indifferently. "Never took you for a hunter."

"I cannot appreciate cruelty," Lannister forces out. "And I am afraid I will not be able to negotiate my way out of a bear's grip. So I am here merely to control my brother's primal impulses."

The mentioning of Jason makes Aemond cautious.

"Developing some self-control may be beneficial for him," the prince mutters.

Tyland goes blanch white, taking the hint.

"I was wondering if I should address the delicate issue of my brother's sympathy toward your..."

"You should not," Aemond cuts him off. "Would be better to address his manners but it's the thing you must sort out amongst yourselves," with that, he turns away to find Y/N again.

Except she isn't there.

The ladies moved closer to the tent but she and Helaena are the only ones missing. It takes him a second to realize that the women look alarmed, glancing at the tent. Or rather inside of it.

Aemond all but runs there, going over the worst scenarios in his head. When he gets in and sees Y/N in the company of Ser Lannister, he thinks he's never been angrier in his life. If Aemond was a dragon, the lord would've been burned to a pulp as of right now.

Jason keeps his distance and his face expresses nothing but regret yet it looks like it's already too late as Y/N is glaring at him with a sharp glint in her eyes. And in the next moment, she loses her temper.

"...What am I missing exactly?" she asks Jason, her voice unexpectedly loud, and it draws the attention of some nearby men. She doesn't care.

"You've been eager to win me over, but I am yet to find a single reason why would any woman find your company endearing," she takes a step toward the lord and he shrivels under the weight of her words.

"Is it the winery that your servants built for you? Is it your herd of fine horses? You talk so much about your stable, one may think your betrothed is to marry a stallion," her smile is mirthless. Aemond hears a faint groan behind his back and recognizes Tyland's scared tone.

"But what are your accomplishments?" the tent gets deadly quiet as she continues. "Do you consider your persevering courtship to be one of them? Or your harassing of my parents, my relatives and even my maids with your never-ending propositions, no matter how many times were they all rejected? Or mayhaps ambushing me in the hallway counts as an achievement for you?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Aemond sees Helaena and Aegon, both looking stunned. Pretty much everyone around him has the same expression at the sight of Y/N. He, on the other hand, has never been more proud of anyone.

Y/N looks at Jason as if she wants to bore a hole in him, her voice getting lower but harsher.

"You want to know what prince Aemond did? None of the above," Aemond feels his heart freeze at the mention of his name. She is yet to see him but when she speaks, it feels like she's seen enough.

"The man I am about to marry has been nothing but kind, respectful and loving, fulfilling my every wish, granting me the comfort of his company and his loyalty. The man with the sharpest mind and the kindest heart — both of which you're clearly lacking," Y/N casts Jason a disdainful glance. "So from where I am standing, it looks like I'm the luckiest woman in the Seven Kingdoms."

When she feels a hand on her waist, she isn't surprised and welcomes the touch with no hesitation, knowing full well who is standing beside her. She swiftly turns to Aemond, their eyes locking.

"I would like it if we left earlier, my prince."

"As you wish," Aemond wishes he could marry her right now.

Disregarding everyone's attention, he leads her out and asks the coachman to fetch their carriage. When they are away from prying eyes, her confidence wavers a little. It only fuels Aemond's ire.

"Give me just a second," he can't help himself.

Aemond goes back to the tent — and right to the Lannisters, one of them is already scolding the other. Tyland stops his lecturing when he notices Aemond, but the prince doesn't let him make a sound.

"That was the second time your brother couldn't hold his tongue," Aemond ignores Jason and walks up close to the other man. "If you care about his well-being in the slightest, make sure there will be no third time."

"Aemond, let us not make another scene. You must think how that will look like..."

Aemond stares Tyland dead in the eyes and promises:

"I will gut him like a boar. Imagine how that will look like."

Without saying another word, the prince storms off.

Y/N already got into the carriage, fidgeting with the hem of the dress as she falls deep into her thoughts.

"Ser Lannister will not bother you anymore," Aemond says, sitting next to her.

"I sure hope so," she mumbles, looking down at the wrinkled fabric.

"Y/N, whatever he said, you should not let it get to you. I do appreciate the gesture," way more than he cares to admit, "but there's no need to go through the trouble of standing up for me," Aemond barely finishes the sentence when she retorts:

"I will."

She looks at him, her eyes burning with blazing certainty.

"No one took your side when you were a kid. But I'm doing it now," she states as her palm covers his, the touch is as warming as her glance.

Aemond thinks he is the luckiest man in the Seven Kingdoms.

He runs out of luck so fast, he must've jinxed it. They are nearing the castle when the pain on the back of his head stings so unexpectedly, he winces, his eyebrows furrowing. Y/N notices it immediately and insists he should take a rest when they arrive.

"Mayhaps you have some of the ointment left?" she wonders, leading him to his chambers. Aemond rarely allows people to coddle him but he accepts her care freely. He is also aware that the near-miraculous balm that she makes is long gone because he hasn't had a headache in a while.

When Y/N finds out, she looks devastated.

"It must steep for a few hours, I can't make it right away," her enthusiasm brittles. She glances at him in a dither, mulling over something, while he lights the fireplace.

"There is another way that I know of," she slowly suggests. "But you will need to lie down."

"Quite a vulnerable position you want to put me in," Aemond lightheartedly jests but brings himself at her disposal with no second thoughts.

She sits on his bed right next to him, the bend of her hips an inch away from his arm.

"Close your eye," she asks calmly and he obliges.

Aemond senses that Y/N leans over him and he struggles not to hold his breath at the realization of how close she is. Then he feels the tips of her fingers on his face, the touch is so light and gentle, it makes him shiver. The pattern of her movements first contours his face, then goes up to his forehead, then slowly glides onto his temples. She massages them delicately in a circular motion.

"It was probably all the noise that caused this," she presumes.

"Or maybe the fact that the man makes my blood boil," Aemond says, although his anger is completely gone by now.

"He is pissed I didn't choose him," she laughs quietly.

"Choose him?" her words peak his interest. "You had a choice in the matter?"

"My father said he would hate it if I marry someone I didn't like," her thumbs are following the lines of his cheekbones, then run under his chin, then all the way up to his hairline, right next to his ears.

"May I ask what was your decision process?" Aemond selects his words very carefully. What he really wants to ask is why would anyone pick him, out of all people.

"I've heard you claimed the biggest dragon in the world at the age of ten," he can't see her smile but he can hear it. "That was impressive enough."

Aemond takes a peek at her through his lashes:

"That can't be the only thing you've heard."

"I can distinguish valuable information from pointless rumors," she notes imperturbably.

"I bet those rumors included the stories of me being the scariest man in the realm..."

Her fingers cover his mouth and he stumbles.

"I decided I would be the judge of that," Y/N says firmly.

"And what is your verdict?" he can't stop himself from asking, his pulse speeding up.

She doesn't think for a second:

"All the people who were spreading those vile tales clearly have never met you. There isn't a single bad thing I can think of when it comes to you."

Aemond shouldn't take it to heart but that's precisely where it hits, her voice cracking his shield, her eyes telling him she will never regret knowing him, caring for him. He thinks this is what true happiness is — being with someone who will choose you every time.

Her fingers graze over the strip of his eyepatch and she pauses her movement. She isn't breaking eye contact, waiting for his reaction, for his permission or refusal. Aemond gulps, helpless under her gaze, and doesn't stop her.

She picks up the leather strip slowly, as if she wants to give him a chance to change his mind. Aemond watches her, his body still, heart rate booming in his ears. Y/N removes the eyepatch and looks straight at the sapphire that gleams brightly in the warm lighting. And then she smiles.

"What do you see?" he exhales.

"Nothing scary, that's for sure," Y/N's gaze doesn't leave his face, her index finger tracing the scar, barely touching his skin.

"Nothing I don't admire," her voice is a little above a whisper.

"Nothing I wouldn't love."

His heart is beating so fast, it feels caged and ready to jump out at any second. Aemond forgets about the headache as if it never existed. In this state of bliss, he contemplates making a very emotional decision. But she makes one instead.

Y/N lowers her face closer to his and all of a sudden he feels a touch so light, it's almost like a petal brushes over his skin. It's her lips. She kisses his face — his scar — moving tenderly from the high point of his cheek to the area under the sapphire and then right above what's left of his eyelid.

When their eyes meet again, Aemond can only think of one thing.

He surges upward, his lips colliding with hers — she responds in an instant. His chest feels like it's on fire as kissing her is the most overwhelming feeling in the world, but he doesn't want to stop, ever. Her fingers gently slide down to his neck and Aemond uses his arm for support as he sits up without breaking the kiss. He then pulls her closer, one of his hands on her lower back and the other nestled under her jaw.

She softly sighs into his mouth — and it might be his new favorite sound. She tastes like berries, her lips getting more eager, fiery, addictive, and he is dizzy with joy and longing, trying to memorize each second. The pacing of the kiss grows heated and intoxicating as they melt into each other perfectly. They only part when both are out of air, their lips tingling, swollen and craving to continue.

"I must admit," she tries to catch her breath, she can't stop smiling, her hands caressing his face, "you exceeded my expectations."

Aemond laughs, cheerful and carefree, his nose bumping into hers.

"It's all about teamwork, as I've heard," he plants a quick peck on the corner of her mouth — and on the other one. And then they're kissing again, desperately drawn to each other. He's lost in the sound of her voice, in the feeling of her lips on his.

His love for her is all-consuming. Her love for him is healing.

Turns out, letting her in doesn't make him lose. With her by his side, he always feels like a winner.

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

> the title is a quote from Hozier's song

>> I originally took inspiration from this post that lists the possible consequences of losing an eye. I also can't help but mention the extensive research that @ adderess did, which only adds to that heartbreaking yet very realistic concept.

>>> I have a playlist for Aemond 🎵 I didn't add any music in this fic BUT I've listened to "Mr Sandman" a lot, especially the instrumental version (I didn't mention it earlier in case you don't like listening to music while reading). 💕 my masterlist

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theworldvsyoshiko · 6 months

Text

If you just wandered in here for some reason, I've been rambling about this for a while. The short version, though: I forgot to swap people around while I was setting up my initial colonists, so I accidentally started the game with a randomly-generated 13-year-old with almost no skills. She almost immediately picked up an ancient beer from the ground and chugged it, so needless to say, she immediately endeared herself to me.

Since this whole thing started happened by accident, I never documented the basic situation here, so might as well start with that.

Meet Yoshiko "Happy" Russell. She started as a solo mechanitor, which means that she installed a chip in her brain that allows her to control robots mechanoids, got discriminated against as a result, and decided to flee to the edge of known space to live by herself.

As if that wasn't bad enough, this is the backstory the game gave her:

Thanks to this, the game often displays her name as 'Happy, Pushover.'

She isn't good at anything except research. The only other thing she's competent at is shooting. She's not a horrible artist, but she's not good, either. I think she's only managed a single work with a quality above Poor.

She's also now 17 years old, because Rimworld accelerates aging for anyone under 20 to get them to adulthood faster. Going from 13 - 18 takes 2 actual years.

Also, if you are familiar with how Rimworld handles ages, you will notice that she's 3433 chronological years old (i.e. she was in cryosleep for millennia), which has to be one of the highest that I've seen. It's also confusing, because it's now the year 5501, which means that she was born in 2068. According to the fiction primer, humanity started spreading out from Earth around 2100. So this kid was, like, the first person off the planet. I'm gonna say that relativity bullshit is to blame.

She follows the Creticonian Creed, which came from the game's 'randomly generate a lightweight ideoligion and develop it through play' option. I added a couple of precepts to it before starting, and the result can basically be summarized as "it is a moral imperative to automate as much work as possible so I can spend more time on Space Reddit." This is a philosophy that makes her constantly a little bit happier because she has automated turrets outside her front door. The randomly-generated title for the leader is 'Great Great Automancer,' and they are entitled to wear a beret. Which is all to say that it sounds exactly like something that a 13-year-old who's too smart for her own good would come up with. I swear that apart from the tenets, I didn't touch any of this.

#rimworld #the world vs. yoshiko

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cursedvida · 7 months

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Something about Y/N is a bounty hunter and she has been hired to catch Buggy. She infiltrates his crew to gain access to him. At first she thinks he's crazy and ridiculous duda with all his shows and bravado, but eventually she realises that she has feelings for him?

Well i liked this prompt so... I made something angst because yeah.

PART II // PART III // PART IV // PART V // PART VI // PART VII

SAD EYES, BROKEN SMILE (Buggy x f!Reader)

A/N: i'm not really happy about the result but english isn't my first language and it's been a while since i used to write in this language. Sorry for the typos.

Warnings: just angst, swearing and the reader falling for a sad clown.

Wondering how you could have got in that situation was redundant. You knew perfectly well why you were there. It was part of your job, if hunting pirates could be considered as such. Well, it fed you, and for a person who cared little or nothing about anything but staying alive, how you got things was secondary. So when you received the assignment to hunt down Buggy the Clown for almost double his bounty you didn't have to think too hard about it. With an amount like that you could rest for several months without worrying about the money. You didn't know or care about who was after this guy or what they wanted to do with him, all you could see was the string of zeros in the offer. At the time that was enough for you.

But that thought only lasted for a short period of time. The Clown was not just another regular pirate, he was a big shot. The guy had been nominated as a candidate to be a Warlord, which meant he was no ordinary pirate, and his special skills - which you had researched - made him someone not to be underestimated.

Whoever was interested in getting him had to have good reasons, something you were not interested in at all, but as you got to know your target better you blamed yourself for not having demanded a higher price. Especially since catching Buggy was no easy task, he had a reputation for always moving around guarded by his crew, which made him slightly inaccessible prey. However, when you finally caught up with him and his crew, all the imaginings you had built up in your head disappeared in one fell swoop.

Buggy the Clown was, as his name said, a clown. A real fucking clown who spent his days bragging about his fucking antics and didn't know what it meant to shut the fuck up because he was always in dire need of being heard and being the centre of attention.He wasn't a fearsome pirate, he was a narcissist with an excessive need for attention who told far-fetched stories about great feats that no one in their right mind would believe him capable of. He was ridiculous, and the worst thing was that his comrades adored him, they had almost a special veneration for him. You couldn't understand him, he became hysterical at the drop of a hat, he was hypersensitive to any comment that wasn't literally an offering to his self-proclaimed divine power and would go from over-excitement to melodrama in a millisecond. The only thing that was clear to you was that feigning adoration for this jerk to fit in with his band of morons made you sick.

Joining his crew wasn't too difficult - ego-hungry men are the easiest to cajole-. All you had to do was pretend to be a poor, helpless little girl without much talent who had wanted to be a pirate for years and had heard amazing stories about this genius jester who had not only terrorized the East Blue, but had become one of the most feared pirates on the Great Line.Buggy didn't even pay much attention to you, you was too ordinary to interest him, something that suited you.

"Of course you've heard of me," he told you that first time you met him, when you managed to catch him in a tavern after following him for days. "Hey guys, our little friend says she's heard about the great Buggy!"

That whole gang of freaks started laughing non-stop, as if what you had just said was the most ridiculous thing in the world. Buggy turned to you again.

"Okay, honey, what can you do for me?"

"Anything I can be useful for."

Trying not to sound too intense - so as not to sound suspicious - you insisted that you wanted the chance to learn on such a famed crew, to please give you the opportunity. The same night you were given a bucket, a mop and welcomed as an unimportant cabin girl. Just as you wanted.

The idea was to lay low until you had been cleaning up vomit and serving drunks long enough to have access to the captain. You knew there was no point in trying to cut him because of his powers, and if you tried to tie him up he would escape, so the only way to make sure you could catch him was to drug him.

The plan was a slam dunk. Wait until the key moment to attack and that's it, even if the waiting included having to put up with the bunch of weirdos that made up the crew and the attention whore of their captain, who seemed to have an allergy to normality.

Yes, it was a piece of cake, or at least that's what you thought until that day when everything began to take a turn for the worse that you could never have imagined.

"Oh, excuse me captain"

It was a night like so many others. The crew had managed to embezzle from a rich family and had pocketed a handful of gold. In the face of such success they had not missed the opportunity to celebratre: litres and litres of beer, sake, rum and all kinds of alcohol. Food to rave about. The crew circus that Buggy was leading that night was a complete madness. You, on the other hand, remained sober, in the shadows. You picked up jugs, replenished them, swept up some of the mess... Everything you'd expect from a rookie being used as a maid.

At such moments Buggy loved to strut his stuff more than ever. He used to stand in the centre of the deck, surrounded by his entire fan club, get on a box or powder keg and start his show. He would talk about how wonderful he was, how powerful and rich they would all become by being with him, and he would emphasise considerably all that he had done to achieve the goal. So it was strange enough for you not to have seen him bragging around for the last hour, but stranger still to find him down in the cellars with his back against a row of beer barrels and his gaze lost in infinity.

Buggy was drunk. Very drunk. At that moment you thought maybe the time had come, when would you have a better chance? He was totally idioticated by alcohol, perfect for noqueating it. And his crew all drunk, no one would notice what was going on.

You came out of your role of useless servant, your senses sharpened, your muscles in tension. The time had come before even your personal deadline was fulfilled, you thought it was your lucky night, but at that moment Buggy noticed your presence, looking at you with glassy eyes and lost because of the drunkenness, and there was something in that look that made you feel a slight sneezing in the stomach that you had never experienced before.

"Oh, it's you, uh... uh..." he scratched his fingers, trying to remember something.

"Y/N, Captain," you answered with a fist. The bastard didn't even remember your name.

“Yeah, exactly…" he said to himself. His head crumbled a little.

He didn't wear the hat, nor the coat. Her makeup was a little rushed because of the hours he had already been at the party, and his eyes were still lost somewhere you didn't know, but for some reason it caused you so much curiosity that anything else slipped out of your head.

"Can I help you with something?" You asked, with your most innocent voice.

Buggy stayed looking at his jar for a few moments and then turned to you again.

"Do you think I need help, baby?" His mocking tone seemed to indicate no, but his desolate expression said the opposite. "Do you think a pirate like me needs help?"

"I didn't want to offend you, sir..."

When he saw how you apologized, he laughed, a loud sound, but lacking fun in the tone. In fact, his laughter sounded cold to you. Then you realized that Buggy was not laughing anymore, but was breathing a huge sigh.

"It's better not to need help nor need anyone. At the end you're always alone"

His voice suddenly darkened and, for the first time since you were on that boat, you felt real curiosity for the man you had in front of you. There was something dark in his gaze, a face of lost innocence that seemed irremediably familiar to you. Without realizing it, you had lowered the guard, and that was only the beginning of your great end.

"You're not alone, Captain." You told him, trying stupidly to keep your role. "Everyone in this crew is with you, and everyone adores you."

"Of course they love me" He answered, slightly offended, and then became blue again. It was then that he looked directly at you, and it was that look that suddenly passed through you. There was fury in his eyes, but also another very different feeling, you could see in them something sad and broken, so sad and so broken that you had terrible desires to reassemble it immediately. "Don't you believe it, Y/N?"

The question makes you uninterested, or too distracted.

“What...? that they adore you, sir?"

"No, shit" he cried, shaking at the drunkard. “that we are always alone."

“So…” You was shocked, it’s possible that you didn’t know what to answer? It wasn't even a complicated or out of place question, what the fuck had you been thinking about? Fuck, what happened to you? "Well... I..." You had to react, you were shivering, you didn't shiver. You took air, trying to get back to your boats, and then you turned to him again. "Didn't we all be born alone?"

"What?"

"We are born alone and we die alone," you said. "And we live together in the meantime. But we are born alone and we die alone."

He kept watching you. You didn't know if he was trying to process your words because due to the state of drunkenness in which he was probably not processing half of what was happening around him, or if he really was trying to analyze you. It was somewhat difficult to discern when someone was drunk, the line between curiosity and ethyl coma was complicated.

It was probably the first time Buggy really noticed you since you got on the boat. Because you didn't want to be noticed, he didn’t notice you, you were good at hiding. But now he had all his attention on you and something shrunk inside you, like you missed the air. You suddenly found yourself thinking that maybe he wasn't as stupid as you thought he was. Maybe that whole facade of bravado and arrogance was just a way to make up all his insecurities,. Maybe at the end he just was a broken man behind so much show. In that moment, as his gaze clawed into yours, you realized that he even seemed attractive to you. And that moment you had to look away, horrified by everything that was going on in your head, but what the hell?

"It's an interesting answer," he murmured.

"I have to... I have to go re-set the barrels" you finally said, you had to get out of there, the atmosphere had suddenly darkened "I'm sorry, captain."

And as you went out sparkled back to the deck, you noticed something that made you absolutely horrified: you were totally noisy.

From that night on, Buggy decided that you weren't going to be an anonymous person to him. It's not that he left everything he was doing to talk to you, but when you crossed each other, he always greeted you. And you discovered that, in some way that you were unable to understand, you were beginning to have a very strong crush for a guy who uses make up to painted his face like a clown and was a little bit older for you.

The more interactions you had with him - very little really, nothing even remotely similar to that night - the more you realized that your contempt for all that circus roll and the freaks making shows had clouded your ability to analyze. Buggy wasn't an idiot. Well, he was, but he also turned out to be a very smart man, was good at planning and a real genius at tricks. Furthermore, despite being always talking about himself and being quite despotic, he really cared about the crew and had respect for them. At the end, you thought that he was simply growing up child with anger problems, and that was really charming to you.

So there you are now, you have a fucking crush on the guy you had to kidnap, not knowing what the hell to do because it's the first time in your life that something like this happens to you and feeling ridiculous at the same time because you look like a super stupid fifteen-year-old bitch. You've killed more people than you can count, you've broken bones, cut necks, ripped teeth off, but suddenly you meet that idiot clown and everything, absolutely everything you have worked on so far goes to shit. And the worst part is that you don't even care because you're too worried looking at him from a distance like stupid fool.

"Hey, Y/N"

It's Cabaji's voice that gets you out of your mind. Since you had that meeting with Buggy in the cellars you're no longer dedicated to cleaning and serving, now you clean and fix things. It's kind of an promotion, but really no.

"What's going on?"

"Have you seen the two who came yesterday? You know... those who talked about joining the crew."

"No idea"

Cabaji sits carelessly, your voice has not shaken a single moment. You remember them, of course, a couple of friends wanting to become pirates. And of course you will not tell Cabaji that you had no choice but to open their heads and leave them on the other end of the island when you heard one of the two commenting something about the captain being very attractive and. That information don¡t fit well with your image of a worthless rookie, and it would also be like assuming you have more childish jealousy starts than teenagers and therefore accepting that you're reaching very worrying levels of encapsulation.

Actually, since you found out how much you like Buggy, there are a lot of things you can't say. For example that you were the one who left that bitch without legs when he dared to make a comment about Buggy’s nose on the last island you passed. Neither can you tell the guys who hired you to hunt him that you don't plan on doing your job and that you've long abandoned that idea. Of course, can't say to some of your colleagues you're in that crew because you want it and not for work. But most of all, you can't tell Buggy that you'd love to know what it's like to kiss a man with a broken smile and sad eyes, but you would be willing to admit any of your other secrets before the last one.

#buggy #buggy imagine #buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x y/n #buggy headcanons #buggy the clown imagine #buggy the flashy fool #buggy x you #op buggy #buggy live action #buggy one piece #buggy pirates #captain buggy #buggy d clown

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hard-core-super-star · 6 months

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Ngl, being able to edit things here is cool, other media don't have this option so all you have to do is delete or slowly die every time you remember that mistake🥲

WELL– in that case it would be really fun to see Yelena just being a big softie to reader and end up getting caught by her friends doing so, then everyone would make fun of her or something (it would probably be their last time making fun of something in their lives, poor souls.

I saw that you still have things to write, so no hurry (and good luck with all this-). Also, Your writing is really good so it will be good anyway, but I'm sure you'll get it!

passive-aggressive magic tricks [Y.Belova]

pairing: yelena belova x reader

summary: a fun game night with your friends takes a turn when they realize how much of a soft dork the russian turns into when she's around you.

warnings: none, i think [except peter being verbally attacked every other paragraph lmao]; so much dialogue; a weirdly written game of uno; just...so much chaos; never written for yelena before so feel free to yell at me if she's too ooc in this one

wordcount: 1.2k

a/n: this gif makes me feel things gonna start this off by saying that this is meant to be romantic but you can read it as platonic if you want. i know everyone has an opinion on yelena's sexuality and not everyone will agree with mine and that's okay! [just don't be a jerk about it. i personally think yelena is a demiromantic asexual so do with that what you will] ALSO, this is so chaotic and borderline nonsensical and you can blame 🌟 for making me think about yelena playing uno that one time. ALSO ALSO, thank you for the vote of confidence, lovely anon, this was actually really fun to write and i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

“This sucks,” Kate declares with a pout.

“Don’t be such a crybaby, Kate Bishop.” Yelena’s words only make the archer’s pout deepen which makes the whole situation feel even more ridiculous.

“Yeah, Kate,” you jump in. “You’re the one who started talking shit in the first place.”

An offended gasp escapes her lips at your accusation. “I wasn’t talking shit! I was being honest about my skills.”

This time, Peter cuts in before the blonde gets a chance to make fun of the archer again. “Guys, I thought we decided against Monopoly so we wouldn’t fight.”

“Fighting is Yelena’s love language,” you reply with a shrug.

You pretend not to notice the way the Russian’s lips quirk up into a small smile and instead focus on Kate and her awful decision-making skills. It takes her a few extra seconds and she still manages to choose the most annoying card in her hand.

“It took you two minutes to throw in a plus-four?” Peter questions, clearly doing his best to not sound judgemental.

“Shut up and take the cards, Pete.”

The boy grumbles something you don’t quite catch but Kate is quick to punch him in the arm, earning herself a kick to the shin. Their dynamic is certainly…interesting and you can’t stop yourself from wondering how much of it comes from being two only children attempting to one-up each other.

Yelena leans in toward you, pretending to whisper. “Why are we hanging out with them again?”

The pair clearly overhears her considering both the glare and the pout that gets thrown your way. You merely shrug in response, attempting to shield your cards from her expert gaze. “It’s…entertaining, I guess.”

“You guys are jerks,” Kate says, speaking the thoughts Peter is far too nice to vocalize. (It’s definitely not because he’s terrified of getting on Yelena’s bad side.)

“And you suck at Uno.”

She rolls her eyes at you but decides not to reply. The small moment of silence allows Peter to take his turn and the game continues…until Yelena decides to betray you.

You’re not fully paying attention to the strategies each one of your companions is forming which means you don’t realize it when they decide to team up against you.

You’re only four cards away from winning and the blonde beside you can’t stop herself from sneaking a look at your deck. Kate somehow manages to catch her in the act and the two stare each other down until the archer raises an eyebrow, silently asking to be a part of the Russian’s plan.

A plan that quickly leads to Kate placing down another plus-four card and Peter being thrown one of Yelena’s under the table.

“We can stack, right?” He asks, mainly in an attempt to keep you from noticing what they’re doing.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you reply with a shrug. “Just don’t be surprised when Yelena pulls out a knife from her boot.”

The joke gets a few chuckles, and a slightly concerned look from the young Avenger.

“Do not worry, Spider-Boy, I promised y/n I wouldn’t threaten you…again.”

“Right…” Peter’s clearly not convinced but he throws in his card anyway.

You turn to face Yelena with a smug smirk. “Sorry, babe, but it looks like I’m on my way to winning this round.”

“You sound like Kate Bishop.” She playfully rolls her eyes at you but the glint in her eyes shows off more amusement than annoyance. “I hope you handle losing better than she does, though.”

“Hey!” You and the archer both voice your protests, albeit for different reasons, as the blonde slams down the last plus-four card needed to ensure you won’t win any time soon.

This time around, she’s the one who looks at you with a smug grin but you’re too busy being dramatic to fully appreciate how good she looks when she’s being competitive. It’s genuinely just a stupid card game and yet you pull out all the tricks you’ve learned over the past few months to get the Russian to melt into the huge softie she is at heart.

“Oh, come on, that was mean.” You pull on your best impression of Kate’s wounded puppy dog look. A look that includes slightly wide eyes and an incredibly deep pout.

A pout Yelena has never been good at resisting. (But only when it comes to you, much to the archer’s dismay)

She, literally and figuratively, keeps her cards close to her chest but you catch the way her free hand twitches slightly, almost as if she’s fighting to keep herself from touching you. It’s strange how affectionate she wants to be with you when she’s always been the first to pull away from a hug, the first one to scoot away when someone sits too close.

Being guarded had always felt like second nature to her until you came along.

Her hand reaches out before she can stop it, landing on your knee and giving it a soft yet reassuring squeeze. It's a subtle reminder that underneath all her sarcasm and the rough edges, she cares about you. A lot more than she ever thought herself capable of.

“It’s just a game, sweetheart.” The words are a mere whisper but somehow the person with the worst attention span you’ve ever seen manages to overhear them.

“Did you just call y/n ‘sweetheart’?” Kate blurts out, clearly far too shocked to worry about her safety. “You actually have feelings?”

“Wait, did she really say that?” Peter’s slightly more cautious but there’s both awe in curiosity shining in his brown eyes.

“I heard her!”

“I think you hit your head too hard on your last mission, Bishop,” you reply, trying to steer the conversation away the second Yelena starts glaring at your friends.

Despite all her other skills, Kate is still awful at reading the room so instead of accepting the safety you’re offering, she decides to be stubborn like always. “Don’t lie to me, y/n, I know what I heard. Yelena’s just a big-”

“A big what?” The blonde cuts in with the most threatening glare she can manage. Which, considering she’s an ex-assassin, is quite effective at shutting the archer up.

“Um…” You can practically see the wheels spinning in the brunette’s head as she tries to come up with something different to say. She clearly fails based on the words that come out. “A big softie..?”

“Oh, Kate,” you sigh. “You’re never going to learn to stop poking the bear, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

Her confusion lasts for about a second before Yelena shoots up from the couch and lunges toward her. The archer gets the message pretty quickly after that, expertly ducking out of the way and taking off running in the direction of the bathroom.

All you can do is laugh and shake your head as the Russian chases after her. “Go easy on her, babe!”

“Yeah, Yelena, listen to your girlfriend!”

“Kate!” You and the Russian yell out at the same time, leading to a fit of giggles belonging to the biggest instigator you've ever met.

"So much for a chill game night," Peter mumbles, placing his cards onto the coffee table. "You're gonna go help Kate out, right?"

You shrug. "I'll think about it."

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x female reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova fic #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova #florence pugh #hawkeye #black widow #kate bishop #peter parker #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing

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lesbian-honey-lemon · 4 months

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top ten smartest characters in BH6, my ranking:

1- Hiro Hamada. Of course he’s at the top, lol. Not only did he outsmart Obake, he also came up with everyone’s hero gear, coded Baymax’s other chips besides Tadashi’s, made a working energy amplifier (that didn’t immediately explode) in like two days with only Krei’s failed prototype to go off of, and HE IS IN SFIT AT 14. Of course he’s the smartest. Also he’s made other robots completely on his own like the microbots and Mini-Mac. He also comes up with most of the battle plans for BH6, and helped cure Liv Amara alongside Karmi.

2- Obake/ Bob Aken. First off, he was also in SFIT as a teen. My headcanon was that he started attending at 16, and Karmi’s like a week younger than him (so she’s technically still the 2nd youngest person to ever go to SFIT). Also!! He was the FIRST to make an energy amplifier, with absolutely nothing to go off of. His was the first, and honestly I wouldn’t be surprised if Krei’s amplifier was based off of Obake’s amplifier. Yes the amplifier exploded immediately but he was still the first. And of course, as an adult, he made a shit ton of advanced tech. He made Trina, the most advanced AI in the whole BH6-verse (even better than Baymax because she’s basically indistinguishable from a human and can make her own decisions outside of her original purpose), he made an underwater base, a bunch of other robots, and was able to follow Shimamoto’s clues to rebuild the star machine. Also he managed to play Hiro and the rest of BH6 like a damn violin and would have succeeded if it wasn’t for Globby.

3- Honey Lemon. Honey Lemon is a goddamn genius and I will die on this hill. Her chem-purse has the INDIVIDUAL ELEMENTS. So in battle, she has to legitimately think up and type in a chemical formula to make the compound to use. So she’s gotta have some MAJOR chemistry skill, an excellent memory, and wicked fast reaction time. She also found a way to cure Globby. Also let’s not forget that time she made a literal amnesia serum in like two minutes for Hiro to give to Karmi when she thought that Karmi was onto them. Also, she did uncover Lenore Shimamoto’s secret life as a scientist alongside Wasabi, and Lenore hid that shit really well.

4- Tadashi. Honestly, Tadashi and Honey Lemon are almost tied for third, but Honey Lemon’s a little smarter. He probably got into SFIT early too, cause he couldn’t have been that old. He was probably in at like 17 and died at 20. Also, he made Baymax, one of the most advanced AIs to ever exist, plus the actual robot is rlly advanced too. So just for building Baymax, he can have this spot, because of how advanced Baymax is. Although running into a burning building was kind of a dumb move.

5- Karmi. Karmi’s actually pretty gifted and you all are unnecessarily hating on this poor girl. She’s 16 and at SFIT, and while my headcanon is that she only got in a week younger than the third youngest student, she’s still the second youngest to ever go to SFIT. She also was able to observe BH6 close enough to write moves that could actually work with their gear, which allowed them to escape Momakase and save Karmi herself. Also, she’s made some epic tech. She made the patches to subdue Oreo Knox, which Di Amara later used for her own evil work. She also did that project with the electric currents in the roses, which probably has some pretty interesting uses. She also got chosen to be Di’s intern, and although she got manipulated big time, I can’t say I blame her or say she’s any less smart for literally being mutated and tortured by a woman she thought was her friend and mentor. Also, Hiro would have never gotten the nanobots to work and cure Liv Amara without Karmi’s help and insight. She also made that glove in Season 3 to beat Hardlight. In short, Karmi is way smarter than the fandom gives her credit for.

6- Gogo. Gogo’s actually quite smart and she’s come up with some interesting things. Her maglev tech is really advanced and gives her an extra edge in battle. She also was the first to catch onto the fact that Karmi had a point with her fanfic and was the first to start using Karmi’s ideas to drive up the wall to chase Momakase. She also came up with that train thing we saw her with the model of in CtC pt 1, which I assume is her midterm project. The world can always use more high-speed rail so she’s quite smart in my book for that. She also of course worked with Hiro to make that awesome bike she chased Mr Sparkles with in S2. Plus she’s in SFIT, which is a really challenging environment on its own so she’d have to be really smart to get in.

7- Wasabi. Wasabi and Gogo are like, exactly tied for 6th. They’re both on the same level of smart, but I like Gogo more so she gets 6ths (no hate to Wasabi fans, I like him too). Wasabi, of course, has his plasma blades, which are literally second to nothing but graphene. He can cut through nearly anything with his tech. He also worked with Hiro to build that space junk disposal device in S1, and helped Honey Lemon uncover the very well-guarded secrets of Lenore Shimamoto’s life as a scientist.

8- Wendy Wower. Wendy, although a minor character, has shown herself to be pretty damn smart. She wrote the thesis that Trevor Trengrove stole, which was the basis for Tadashi’s work. Without Wendy’s thesis, Tadashi would have never made Baymax. So, though she never gained the recognition she deserved for her intelligence, she’s still hella smart. Plus, she did manage to make a name for herself as a beloved educator and inspiration for kids to get into science, and that’s kind of hard to do if you’re not already really smart when it comes to science.

9- Lenore Shimamoto. Lenore Shimamoto is really smart, although her invention failed. She built the star machine, which caused the Great Catastrophe. But, she intended it to be an infinite energy device. So, like a very early interpretation of the energy amplifier. She also built a secret lab and hid all evidence of the star machine so well that it took over a hundred years to find. And honestly, if the only person who could crack your secret was literally the second smartest person in the whole show (Obake), you hid that secret pretty well. She also built and ran a whole art institute, it takes smarts to run such a big university.

10- Professor Granville. Honestly I was stuck on who to put here, but I think she deserves this spot. She’s an accomplished professor, knowledgeable about her subjects, and was obviously smart enough to mentor Hiro, Karmi, and Obake. If she wasn’t smart, they wouldn’t have latched onto her as much as they did. She also fixed Baymax that one time in S2 and went to rescue their asses all on her own, built the robot spider SFIT security system, and has some pretty good deduction skills in order to find out where Momakase was going to steal from next.

You can also put Professor Callaghan here at 10th for similar reasons, being an accomplished professor, writing many papers on robotics and inspiring Hiro’s microbots, and coming up with the plan to kill Krei. But, his plan got foiled by Hiro, and Hiro was an inexperienced superhero at this time, so it’s not like with Obake where Hiro was a seasoned superhero who had a fair shot at stopping his plans. Hiro and Obake were evenly matched. So if Inexperienced Hiro could beat Callaghan, that means Callaghan’s not quite as smart.

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the-s1lly-corner · 10 months

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spot that meets a autistic reader, that is talkative to themselves, but has poor social skills because (lack of good parenting + bullys, but is very smart and loves art and engineering, and dreams to be a scientist one day.. it could began as the reader first feared him over an awkward moment? to opening up about themselves and the reader's obsessive fascination over him. two very talented ppl that only wants to be appreciated, respected and loved...💔

idk is it to much?? bruh I'm trying to be creative😭 I'd be happy with whatever happens!. aNd TaKe yO tiME!! On irl things and beloved spotty <3

Spot w/ an autistic reader!

Rubs my autistic little hands

Feeling a lil drowsy but I wanna chuck this out before I fall asleep for (possibly) the next 7 hours :3

Not proof read we die like Peter Parker <\\3 we are sleepy and tumblr wont let me save drafts for asks <\3

Obligatory "I like this character so I'm hcing him to be ND like me" touch

He gets it

Anyways

I think to help make the whole thing less jarring, or whatever, is that you may have known each other vaguely before the collider incident

You weren't a scientist at alchemax, more like.

Well shoot I just forgot the term but like, you work there, but you dont do hands on experiments, not experienced enough yet

Intern?

Maybe, idk

Obviously you don't work there anymore after the collider blowing up, so... you're looking for a new job

You knew about Jonathan, but you weren't friends

You had also heard rumors about what happened to him but you kinda dismissed it as cruel rumors surrounding his death.. I mean no one could've survived that explosion.. right?

So imagine your surprise when you end up almost getting robbed by spot

Can you blame him? He hasnt found another job since the accident and hes probably living off of pity handouts; likely homeless

Now hand over the wallet!!/j

No but on the semi likely chance that you manage to defuse the situation, given Spot sucks as a criminal, you just bluntly ask if the whole

Rumor thing is true

I mean obviously it is but confirmation is important

After a few more chance encounters, you guys both finally decide to properly sit down and talk

Its tense and awkward at first since 1. How does one even act around someone like spot? He's vulnerable but also trying to do the whole. Revenge thing... And 2. Hes desperate for human interaction and it SHOWS, it's almost uncomfortable actually

But you both trudge past it and make it work

One meet up turns into two then three; then you discover how much hes struggling and

Now you're roomates

Oh my god they were roommates/ref

Anyways, that's the set up!! It kinda felt wrong to just. Jump into it without some explanation on how yall end up in the same area consistently

Doesnt mind that you mumble to yourself, he probably does the same thing. From muttering things to keep his train of thought to having a personal monologue, I wholeheartedly believe he does the same thing

Hs understands how it feels to be. Not treated very good, he likely wasnt the most respected in alchemax so it's not uncommon for the two of you to have vent sessions where you both let it all out

You ask him about his journey to becoming a scientist and not so subtly ask for advice on how to get into the field; and touching onto the whole human interaction thing, hes more than willing to talk your ear off about his entire career history

On the chance you dont want to do physics stuff, and you wanna do another branch of science he's all ears on listening to you ramble, may even lend a hand in getting you to where you need to be career wise

Yall do at home experiments as bonding stuff

Look if spot can make a mini collider in some building then I can only imagine the type of shit yall get up to at home

Oh? You're still curious about.. him? Of all things, him?

He never thought anyone would look at him with interest; usually its disgust or fear, or both

Hes hesitant at first because what if you discover something that'll totally change your view of him?

Takes (some, a little) coaxing

Bro caves fast, he misses physical touch

"So like, these holes-" you proceed to just. Dip your entire fist into a hole and watch said fist pop out from another hole

The demons are telling me to make reader like

Make it a game to try to throw stuff through his holes but I feel like that would be really mean, no one likes stuff getting thrown at them

Please dont throw stuff through his holes :(

Random but like

Idk if this happens with yall but

If someone stims do yall. Like stim back

Like I have vocal stims and mess with my hands; and sometimes my friend will be prompted to stim if I stim??

Idk but yall do that

OHOH before I post this if you're both comfy with physical touch please please please hold him, it's been so so long since someone has hugged him and he really really needs it :(

#atsv spot #atsv #spiderverse #the spot x reader #the spot #spot x reader #jonathan ohnn #jonathan ohnn x reader

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cherry-flavoured-thot · 11 months

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i've got an obey me ask

imagine an mc that's just been plucked for the program being from the complete opposite end of the financial spectrum of our beloved cast of pixelated men.

an mc that grew up/was living paycheck to paycheck, barely able to make ends need and feed themselves. it'd be literally night to day with them. they'd gasp over price tags and shopping totals reading thousands of grimm, still stuck in the mindset of "that'll break the bank." a spreadsheet on their computer of their money spending and gaining (i can't remember the proper terms for that stuff, it's been a hot minute since i learned it all in middle school), a long list of things they think they could never stored somewhere.

sure, it'd be on their student file that that's what their life was back in the human world, but whether anyone knows or not besides them is up to you (id imagine lucifer would probably gloss over it completely in the rush of getting paperwork done so he can get to bed before 5am lol grumpy old man needs sleep). poor thing might break down if anyone knew..

sorry if this seems odd, i just feel that as someone who's right there in the pay-to-pay situation, i'd be in complete shock of being able to actually (and easily) afford things without having to debate whether i really needed it or earned it.

if anything in the text is broke, i blame tumblr desktop version. my phone isn't working the best so i had to move here from mobile ;-;

"You spent how much on....?" Is a question the mc repeats to every brother but with different things. Demonus, designer clothes, figurines, skincare products, food, books, ancient objects, new blankets and pillows etc. But no one really thinks too much of it, despite mc's shock every time.

It's not until Mammon complains one time about how broke he is, and mc turns to him, looking him dead in the face saying. "You could easily survive the week with that much." Then they proceed to write him up a budget with the minimal amount of Grimm in his account.

"...mc how did you do that?"

"Oh I'm a pro, I once lived off of five dollars and spite for a full week." Mammon, is casually bringing this up with Lucifer next time he sees him.

"You didn't mention mc was flat broke before comin' here."

"...that's because I wasn't aware." Lucifer is pulling up mc's student file, and there it is in big bold writing. Lucifer and Mammon both have a lightbulb moment, thinking about different occasions where the topic of money came up and mc was acting strange. "If I were you, I'd minimize mentions of your spending habits around mc."

"...yeah." Mammon feels so guilty. That not only does he stick to mc's budget, he always mentions to them when he's managed to save money rather than spend it. But he'll still be a devil on their shoulder encouraging them to splurge a little on themselves because they deserve it.

Lucifer, Satan and Asmodeus would be using this knowledge to let mc know they are providers. (Mammon would too. He would but his budget skills are bad so he's a sometimes provider!) They will always make sure mc is financially good, so feel free to spend (within reason - Lucifer would argue). (You deserve to be spoilt - Asmodeus, Satan)

Beelzebub and Leviathan, would just buy things for mc instead when the opportunity arises. Beel will always pay when inviting mc out for food, it's his treat. mc was talking about wanting to get a game? well they don't need to get because Levi had it express delivered to the front door. (Mammon would also do this when he has money lmao)

"If you want it just buy it." Belphegor is firmly in the middle ground, because he'll tiredly tell mc those words, when they've been debating aloud to get the thing in question. If they mention it's too expensive and talk themselves out of buying it. He just gets it for them.

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imorphemi · 6 months

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Today on Morph brainrot hours: Hermitcraft FMA AU!

except its kinda only Boatem and also Gem and kind of Skizz because. There's too many hermits I can't accurately au them sorryyyy

So! Role call!

Pearl - Lieutenant Colonel Seyche Pearl, the Shifting Earth Alchemist. She became a State Alchemist before the Ishvalan Civil War and joined eventually joined the war. She was assigned to protect the military doctors. After the war, she was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel and transferred to Central, where she now does field work and assists with the alchemical laboratory research efforts, specifically with Gem.

Gem - Major General Taylor Gemini, the Mending Alchemist. She was one of the top military doctors during the war, not just for her skill in the medical field but also in the literal warzone. Though she wasn't involved in the work with Philosopher Stones, she did hear rumors about it from the other doctors. She started researching bio-alchemy, earned her State Alchemist license, and eventually became head of the 4th Laboratory.

Impulse - Major Stevens Impulse. Impulse transferred from East to Central shortly after the war and came under Pearl's command. Old friends with Grian, Scar, and Skizz back from the military academy and through the war. He frequently accompanies Gem and Pearl, who are...notoriously bad at watching their backs.

Grian - The Windstorm Alchemist, I haven't decided on his real name yet but most people just call him by his title. Became a State Alchemist right before state alchemists were called in to Ishval and Impulse, Skizz, and Scar came under his command. Some time after the war ended, Grian decided to remain a State Alchemist for research opportunities and transferred to Central, coming under Pearl's command. Both of his arms are automail.

Near the end of the Ishvalan Civil War, Skizz died during a skirmish. Impulse did not take this very well and was transferred to Central not long after the war ended. Grian and Scar blamed themselves for Skizz's death because Grian was his CO and Scar's negligence was partially the cause of his death (though Grian would argue otherwise). While Scar was not a state alchemist, he does know alchemy.

So Grian and Scar decide to bring Skizz back to life. With predictable results. The rebound cost Grian's arms and Scar's legs. The two managed to drag themselves to Mumbo's workshop, leaving the poor man to freak out over his two friends who are both missing half their limbs.

Mumbo, with some help from his boss Tango, makes Grian and Scar new automail limbs. Scar decides to resign from the military and chills in Rush Valley with Mumbo, but Grian continues with his research.

After Grian transfers to Central, he, Gem, Pearl, and Impulse make some headway into Gem's investigation about Philosopher Stones, discovering the passageway under Lab 4 leading the Lab 5. Gem and Pearl go in first, discovering a philosopher stone and barely escape with their lives, Grian and Impulse following them to give backup. Grian gets ahold of Marcoh's documents before the Library burns down and him, Gem, and Pearl all have an aneurysm trying to decode it. No one is happy with the results when they're done anyways.

Also this is all happening in tandem to the canon events of FMA. This is about all i have right now lol I just needed to spill these thoughts from my head XD thanks for reading

#my rants #hermitcraft #fullmetal alchemist #pearlescentmoon #grian #geminitay #impulsesv #just gonna tag them cuz theyre the most important ones in this au #doc and ren would both be chimeras #cleo probably would be too #oh yeah also grian and pearl are siblings in this au #though they were seperated during their like teenage years #pearl joined the military first as a state alchemist #while grian went through military camp #anyways i thought itd be funny if pearl was grians commanding officer #gem slays so much in this au its not good for her #so does pearl and grian for that matter actually #grian begs roy to teach him flame alchemy at one point #everyone is against that idea #gem and riza are sniper buddies #grian and ed see each others automail limbs at the same time #and both of them are like #'squints suspiciously'#pearl is fast friends with alex #she is prone to making sculptures with her alchemy and armstrong absolutely approves

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save-the-villainous-cat · 2 years

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can I request your typical shipping dynamic on this blog, heroxvillain but they have a chaotic child

“Jesus fucking Christ…” the hero muttered. They squeezed their eyes shut and pinched the bridge of their nose. “Babe, please repeat that.”

“Your child stole a car, damaged public property and endangered a lot of people with their terribly poor driving skills to spend a night with their crush at the lake.”

“Oh my god. I mean, we fucked up when we were young and we did a lot of bullshit but this?” The hero stared at their desk as if they wanted to burn it with their own gaze.

“In hindsight, the overall damage is easily manageable,” the villain remarked. They looked at their spouse so easily, so lovingly and yet, the hero didn’t know what to do with all this love. Sometimes one look overwhelmed them. Right now, they couldn’t be distracted by that, though.

“Well, now it’s manageable. What about the things they’ll do in a week? A month? A year?” They looked at the curve of the hero’s jaw and their heart jumped a bit. Fuck. After all these years, they still had butterflies in their stomach.

“It’s just a phase, my love.”

“This phase has been going on for seventeen years.” The hero groaned again. “God, they won’t even talk to me. They just look at me and when they speak it’s gruff and condescending. They think they know everything. It pisses me off—”

“Hm. Reminds me of someone.” The villain smiled sweetly but even that couldn’t calm down the hero right now. The more they thought about this, the more they got frustrated.

“I didn’t steal cars.”

“No.” The villain pushed the many things — mostly papers and books — on the hero’s table to the side and sat on it. For a moment the hero blushed and got really embarrassed, that was until they realised that they were married to the person in front of them. “You contravened direct orders from your superiors and stole a few weapons to see and impress me.”

“Come on, you can’t compare that to our kid—”

“They’re a good child. You would’ve done the same if I’d been the person of interest.” The villain reached out and traced the hero’s jawline. “It’s adorable how similar you both are.”

“Babe, I don’t want them to end up behind bars,” the hero whispered. It was a thought that had invaded their mind for quite some time now. It had happened to the villain once and those months were unbearable for the hero who was blaming themselves. They couldn’t even imagine how it would be with their kid.

The hero had a lot of connections. They could help to get them out of most things but if their kid messed up badly—

“Neither do I. But they’ll learn. Home isn’t supposed to be something scary you run away from. Our home is supposed to be safe. If they get in serious trouble, their first instinct should be to call us. That is what parents are for.”

“I know…” The hero let out a shaky breath as their gaze fixed on the villain’s thighs.

“My love. I know you’re scared. But they have a good heart. They’ll learn from their mistakes. The most important thing is that they come back home in one piece.”

Suddenly, the hero stood up and kissed them. Hard. They pulled away much too soon but they simply had to whisper the words “I don’t know what to do without you.”

The villain smiled again. And then they simply said “I know.”

#sometimes I dislike the fact that I can write whatever I want #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request

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dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night · 7 months

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Eden part twenty-one

TW: emotional breakdown, agoraphobia, Stockholm Syndrome, trauma, abusive relationships, forgiveness, referenced stalking, referenced major character deaths, pet whumpee, creepy/intimate whumper

As it turned out, all of Ezra's attempts to track down Christopher were totally worthless. Stalking was certainly outside of his skillset, which didn't particularly surprise him.

He managed to banish the thoughts of Stockholm Syndrome and "whump" spurred on by Tumblr, and avoided the site altogether for some time. No point opening old wounds.

His skills at compartmentalization and mild denial kept him sane, or at least tricked him into thinking he was. But other issues still plagued him, even when he managed to bury any thought of Christopher.

His once mild agoraphobia had clearly spiraled out of control after his kidnapping, along with several debts. He chose to ignore the crippling debt for the time being in favor of dealing with his mental health issues.

Agoraphobia first. Stockholm Syndrome second. Debt last.

Even though it terrified him, he forced himself to go out in public. Nothing dramatic, just walking around the block to a coffee shop so he could prove himself capable of existing in public.

Talking to the barista was far more stressful than he had anticipated, and he stumbled over his order multiple times before finally communicating that he wanted a latte with lavender flavor. He hastily handed over a few crumpled dollar bills and dropped the returned change in the tip jar.

Why he had chosen to subject himself to yet more lavender was a mystery to Ezra. He had never liked it before meeting Christopher, but now he was torn between craving it as a source of nostalgic comfort and wanting to put it in a new setting to divorce it from his past trauma.

He collected his drink when the barista was done making it, and forced himself to sit down at one of the tables instead of high tailing it back to his apartment. The cafe was pleasant enough, with flowers on the tables and soft music playing.

While it tasted far different than the lavender tea he had grown used to drinking, the smell and taste of his coffee sent him straight back to Christopher's home. He forced himself to breathe, clutching the table to ground himself in reality. He had to get used to real life.

Christopher wasn't coming back. That was final.

Unfortunately for Ezra, Christopher was quite intent on returning to his life, and had decided to confront him in a public space.. So while Ezra's grounding techniques would have served him well otherwise, they failed immediately when Christopher sat down across from him.

Ezra couldn't understand how Christopher looked so similar in such a wildly different context. If Ezra tuned out his surroundings, he could easily imagine that he was staring at him across their dining room table.

Christopher smiled warmly. "Hello, my dear Ezra."

"Hi s- Christopher." Ezra tried for a practiced smile, just as he had all those weeks ago in Christopher's bathroom mirror. But it crumpled within seconds, and he burst into tears. "Oh god…"

"Breathe," Christopher said soothingly, gently squeezing Ezra's hand. "It's alright. I'm here now. My dear Ezra, you have no idea how happy I am to see you. I spent days searching the woods for you before checking if you might have gotten home…"

"I'm sorry," Ezra sobbed, all emotional progress made over the last few days utterly failing him. "I'm so sorry, sir. I didn't mean to run away. I panicked. It was an accident."

"I'm the one who should be apologizing," Christopher said gently. "I should have never put you in the position I did. Bringing poor Jay into our home, or even allowing Colt's conduct towards them in the first place, was the worst mistake of my life. I don't blame you for running away."

This was everything Ezra had ever wanted to hear from Christopher. An apology wrapped in layers of forgiveness for all of Ezra's mistakes. Just as comforting as Christopher had always proven himself to be.

Despite his overwhelming relief and joy, Ezra still felt compelled to ruin the moment, pouring out all the resentment he didn't know he had. Surely some misguided attempt to take control of his situation.

"You really fucked up," he said shakily. "I wish that we could have been happy, how we were in the beginning. But your fiance blew that all to hell. I don't know what you ever saw in that man, unless you just wanted to fix him the same way you tried to fix me."

"You're absolutely right," Christopher said, still holding Ezra's hand. "I have to take responsibility for my mistakes. Trying to fix men who never wanted to recover in the first place. Putting up with their violence against myself and others. It hurts to admit, but I owe you that much."

"Jay deserved better. But I'm glad they're dead, because they were never going to get better. That's not your fault, or mine, but I have to say it."

"Two lives were just cut short because of my mistakes. But you're still alive, so I owe you an apology above anyone else. I'm truly sorry, my dear Ezra."

Ezra choked back a sob. "You're the only person who ever cared about me. The real me, not some front I put up. Even if your idea of love is screwed up, and you thought rohypnol was the right way to win me over."

"Ezra…" Christopher took a deep breath. "I won't deny that I was possessive and obsessive. I wanted to give you everything you had always deserved, and to be the sole love in your life. That was unfair, and only caused you more pain."

"Why are you so good to me?" Ezra croaked, voicing the doubts that had plagued his heart since the day he met Christopher. "Even if you did screw up. You're still so good. I've never done anything to deserve it."

"Everyone deserves love. And you, my dear Ezra, are an intelligent and kind hearted young man, who I am blessed to have gotten to know so well. You deserve all the happiness in the world, whether I am the one to provide it or someone else entirely. I love you."

"I love you too," Ezra said, fighting back tears. "More than I've ever loved anyone. I'm sorry for getting so upset with you. I'm just having a really rough time."

"You don't owe me an apology," Christoper said. "I already told you that you didn't do anything wrong. You have every right to be upset with me. I don't hold it against you."

"Please take me home," Ezra begged, completely disregarding his friends' warnings and his own life lessons. "I can't stand being a person. I just want to be your pet again. Real life hurts so much. I've missed you more than I've ever missed anyone in my life. I want our Eden back."

Christopher stared at him in disbelief for a moment, before nodding solemnly. "I'm done keeping you against your will. This is entirely your decision.. But if it's what you truly want, I would like nothing more than a second chance."

Ezra rose from his chair, and Christopher stood up after him. After a moment's hesitation, fighting back his doubts and fear, Ezra collapsed into Christopher's open arms. He melted into the warm embrace as easily as he always did, allowing the scent of lavender to envelop him once more.

He didn't care what his breakdown must have looked like to the other people in the coffee shop. The only thought on his mind was that he was finally going home. Back to where things made sense, and he would have all the safety and comfort in the world.

Taglist: @hugh-lauries-bald-spot @thedarkmongoose @whumpsday @whump-by-robin @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @annablogsposts @whumpshaped @seetheothersideofparadise @knittedeyebrowsandcardigans @whatwasmyprevioususername @boonasaurusrex @suspicious-whumping-egg @heavenlyeden @melancholy-in-the-morning @snakebites-and-ink @suck-my-clit-loser @i-eat-worlds @scp-1296 @chiswhumpcorner @skittles-the-whumpee @whumpkinz @dokidokisadness @enbygesserit @canislycaon24 @be-gay-do-crime-ahaha @a-crumb-of-whump @pixelated-whump

#Abraham original: Hot off the press #Eden #Whump #Pet whump #Whump writing #Whump series #Pet whumpee #Creepy/intimate whumper #Willing recapture

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moog-rt · 1 year

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ᴄʏʙᴇʀʙᴜʟʟʏ [ʀɪꜱᴇ!ᴅᴏɴɴɪᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

PART ONE

Links to parts: one two three four five

Summary:

Fate brought you and that purple-clad turtle together in the form of endless battles of code.You were a purple dragon recruit, and he was your target. He plays your games as you tease him with the slim possibility of victory.

You may just let him win if you are feeling particularly merciful.

Notes:

enemies to lovers (I think?); slow burn; takes place after the movie; reader is a villain

If you’d prefer to read it on Ao3, here’s the link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43043685/chapters/108159981#workskin

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

“God, dammit!” Donatello threw himself back into his pimped-out desk chair, hands dragging themselves down his face as he groaned. “How could this happen?” His human friend beside him perked up at his frustrated tone.

“Uh, everything good, D?” April asked, grateful to have a reason to turn her attention away from her biology assignment. You know…that assignment that Donnie was supposed to be helping her with before he got sucked into his computer.

“No, everything is not good. In fact, everything is quite bad!” he began to raise his voice. “It seems that one of our old purple dragon friends decided to hack into my system to get access to some of my blueprints…” Queue an eye twitch of rage. “And they very much succeeded…” He began muttering and laughing to himself. It had all happened almost in an instant. One second, all of his servers were fine, untouched and secure. The next, some black hat hacker had busted right through his firewalls without any warning at all, and just like that, his blueprints were gone…

“Well? What are we waiting for then? Let’s go kick their sorry asses!” April hyped, throwing a fist in the air with a determined grin. Donnie met her enthusiasm, jumping up on his chair and pumping his tech-bo above his head with a maniacal smile.

“Yes! We shall show them what is to come when you attempt to hack Sir Othello Von Ryan!” He began laughing madly, leaping from his chair to start gathering his equipment. Time for things to get physical. April began packing her bag as quickly as she could manage. However, she was stopped in her tracks as she heard her phone go off from a text message, quickly picking it up to check who it was.

“Ah… actually, Donnie, I’m gonna have to put a raincheck on that. One of my classmates wants to meet up to work on that bio assignment I was telling you about.” She threw her backpack over her shoulder and waltzed out, leaving the poor turtle dumbstruck.

“Huh, but what about the—huh?”

♡ ♡ ♡

God, you were good.

You couldn’t stop the wide grin from spreading across your face. Who could blame you though? You had just broken through the firewall of one of the strongest security systems you’ve had the pleasure of coming in contact with, and boy was it fun. You got to play around with some algorithms you hadn’t had the chance to use yet, and they worked like a charm. On top of that, you were now in possession of some pretty cool blueprints for a variety of tech, from drones, to multitools, to sentient AI…

They were incredible designs.

The person you hacked must be some crazy genius. Their cyber security as solid as they come, and to have the ability to design such complex technology, considering all the knowledge of physics, engineering, and everything in between that was needed to create them… Incredible. Simply incredible.

You picked up your phone, ignoring all the notifications you had received and sending the blueprints over to Kendra. She got back to you almost immediately, sending praise for your quick and efficient work. Your heart swelled with pride. Of course, you already knew that you were fairly skilled when it came to coding and whatnot, but to have someone like Kendra acknowledging your good work felt nice… especially since it was your first assignment as a purple dragon.

Flopping down on your bed with a happy sigh, you decided it was probably best to get started on some of your homework. You scrolled through your contacts to find your lab partner’s name, shooting her a text to see if she’d be down to work on one of your assignments together. She gave you a warning when you were first assigned to each other that her area of expertise lay outside the realms of STEM, to which you offered to help her out to the best of your abilities. You weren’t the biggest bio nerd around, but it was an interesting subject, and you knew enough to be a good tutor to your upperclassman.

She, too, responded with lightning speed, eager to meet up and work together. The two of you agreed to meet at her place, and she promptly sent you her address. It wasn’t too far by transit, so you got your things together before starting your trek over. You let her know when you arrived so she could meet you to let you in. When she greeted you at the entrance to her building, you noticed she was breathing a bit heavily, and there was just a touch of sweat above her eyebrow.

“You good? You seem a bit out of breath, girly,” you said, giving her a gentle nudge with your elbow. She let out a breathy laugh in response.

“Oh, I am fine. Don’t you worry. I just got a little caught up in something, so I had to run a bit to beat you here,” she smiled, waving you off.

“Huh? You should have told me! I would have been totally fine coming later—”

“Nah, girl, seriously, I think you actually saved me from getting caught up in some nonsense tonight,” she chuckled, and unlocked the door to her apartment, allowing you in first.

Her place looked incredibly cozy. It wasn’t too spacious nor too cramped. Décor was strewn about tastefully, and there were fairy lights draped around the perimeter of her living room, creating a welcoming ambiance.

“April, this is such a nice setup,” you beamed.

“Why thank you very much!” She put her hands on her hips with a smile in return. “Now set your stuff down and get comfy. You want something to drink?”

“Water is good. Thank you!” You plopped down on April’s couch, pulling your laptop out of your bag to take a look at the assignment. She soon joined you after handing you the water, and the two of you began working through the problems. Luckily, most of the problems were addressing fairly basic vocabulary and cellular functions, which you could get through easily enough. April got stumped just a couple of times, but you were happy to explain anything she was having trouble understanding.

You eventually found yourselves working on the final question of the problem set. This one proved to be a bit more of a doozy. It was asking about the lipid bilayer that forms the cell wall, but it was more of a problem-solving question rather than just a test of basic knowledge. It even challenged you quite a bit, leaving you stumped for a minute or so. When you finally came to a conclusion, April had come to her own, as well. You both blurted out your solutions at the same time. They were very much not the same.

“Uh… April, I still don’t see how you got that answer…” You scratched behind your ear as you stared at the page of scribbles your classmate had created in an attempt to show you her thought process.

“It’s because the lipids have more kinks in them that the bilayer is more fluid as a whole—” you began to explain, however, she interjected again to argue for her own point. Your little debate went on for several more minutes. Papers filled with diagrams and chicken scratch began covering April’s once tidy floor.

“Okay, you know what?” The spunky girl whirled around to reach for her phone which was about 5 feet away from her. She stretched out way more than you would have thought possible, grabbed the phone, and sprang back into her previous sitting position. “Imma just call my nerd friend real quick.” She smiled at you with gritted teeth, eyes not leaving your form as she aggressively typed on her phone.

It didn’t even ring for a single round before her friend picked up. She immediately put the guy on speaker, not giving him a chance to even get a simple “hello” in as she was already explaining the whole situation at an inhuman speed. There was a moment of silence on the other end, and you both waited, biting at your nails in anticipation.

“So—uh… Yeah, no. Your friend’s answer is pretty much perfect,” the guy stated.

“Ha-HA!” Immediately, you threw your fist into the air in celebration of your academic victory. April slumped with her arms crossed and bottom lip jutted out just slightly.

“This ain’t fair,” she pouted. You giggled leaning over to her phone.

“Thank you, April’s friend,” you sang. Again, it was silent until you heard the quiet sound of his throat being cleared.

“Ah—uh… Yeah, it was—” The poor guy had to take another break to clear his throat before proceeding to speak with a bit more confidence. “It was totally no probles. Sciency stuff is kind of my thing, so if you ever need a tutor—”

“Okay. Donnie? I’m gonna have to stop you right there before you embarrass yourself,” April cut in. She put him off of speaker, but you could still vaguely make out some hollering from his end. “Buh-bye now!”

“He seems like a funny dude,” you chuckled. “Maybe next time we should invite him to the study group. He seems to know his shit.” The other girl sweat-dropped at this and began playing with her fingers.

“Yeah, maybe just over the phone… He’s kinda got this thing…” she trailed off, seemingly trying to think of the right word to use.

“This thing…?” you echoed, urging her to continue explaining. You didn’t actually mind, but now you were curious.

“He’s—uh…”

You waited.

“He’s just really shy!” You stared at her and allowed your head to tip to the side. She was giving you a wide toothy smile, not meeting your eyes as beads of sweat ran down her face. She was clearly desperate for you to be appeased by that excuse. Lucky for her, you were a merciful god and accepted her explanation. Besides, if you really wanted to know, you could easily find out.

Now that you finished your bio assignment, the two of you decided to spend a while longer working on other assignments. April had turned on some chill lyric-less music and brought over a good variety of snacks. You guys worked for a while until there was nothing major left to do, and you lost yourselves in simple chit-chat. It was now fairly late, however, so you decided to finally part ways until your next shared lecture.

Your journey back home was just a bit chillier, but still rather quick. You tapped into your building, jotting in the passcodes where they were needed, and made your way to your bedroom swiftly. Throwing yourself onto your desk chair, you spun around twice before stopping in front of your PC. A nice big warning message that your servers were now under attack greeted you. Your heart skipped a beat, and a wide grin was forcing its way onto your face once again.

Your dear friend was deciding to fight back.

♡ ♡ ♡

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damnea · 2 years

Text

- It takes a village -

Even though steam engines are these dirty, great, machines built for purpose, for some inexplicable reason they have a soft spot for kids.

I love it, it's so cute.

(Toddlers are adorably rambunctious and all of the babies I get given to hold at work, always sort of stare right into my soul, they're people in progress.)

So with locos, most of them would try to stay focused on their work, but as things go, when a member of railway staff has a baby, word quickly spreads and gossip ensues.

You can't keep a railway quiet, don't even try.

At first the engines may feign interest, but soon they begin asking a few too many questions, and pretty soon you'll find they're arguing at the sheds about the proper way a nappy/diaper is supposed to go on.

---

"Obviously it goes on the head."

"Pah, clearly it's a catching impliment."

"No, no, no, it's animals at the front and tape at the sides."

"You're all wrong, children are animals, so obviously they belong outside."

"A baby? In the wild? Don't be daft!"

"They'll be fine, we'll give them a tent."

"You'll have them hunting next..."

--- What's the point? ---

There's this theory among some loco behaviourists, that engines actually consider humans at any given age to be *Ahem* "very cute and precious."

This is likely due to our size and relatable fussiness, although a fair few engines have been less kind in describing us.

"fickle time-wasters that should spend less time asking questions and more time getting onboard the coaches."

Now kids are otherwise innocent, until they smash your windows or send you packing down the line of course, but aside from that, they're mostly angels.

They aren't big problems in the grand scheme of things, it's when they grow up and start complaining that things become difficult.

"Are you getting onboard or not?!?" James hissed steam furiously.

"No, your attitude stinks."

"Say it to my face."

Customer service is number one here.

--- Why do they even bother? ---

No matter how big a workaholic the engines may seem at first, sooner or later they will find themselves met with distraction. They can't resist pulling a face, or having an opinion after all.

The infant latching instinct quickly takes hold. "Oh look, a baby."

Edward himself has been on the railway for many years. He's seen generations of passengers grow up and go on to have families of their own. Even so he still can't help but smile whenever a child comes up to greet him.

"I remember when your grandfather was little. Day in, day out all i'd ever see was his poor mother pushing him up and down the platform in his stroller, he was inconsolable."

"His colic was so bad, passengers desperate for peace would be marching around taking turns trying to soothe him. I felt dreadful for them both, but as my driver says, the road to parenthood didn't come with a map."

The old engine was very wise, trains can't be parents of course, he did however manage to learn a few tricks.

Parental methods can be useful for dealing with naughty tank engines.

The Fat Controller himself has been heard quoting his mother almost verbatim when a loco's in hot water. It's funny, when it comes to handling small children and big locomotives, the skills involved are almost transferable.

Minus the changing, bottle feeding, and bedtime stories... Almost.

*cleans out ash box, fills up with coal, and tucks the engine into the shed for the night*

---

"The midnight express is here." Soothed the fireman.

Gordon: *Aggressive snoring*

---

Some locos consider human young to be something of a nuisance. They do come around with time, but others remain indifferent. You can't blame some of them for holding a grudge.

James: "It smells weird, it sounds weird, I don't like it."

Gordon: "I've had quite enough of those little screaming demons today, thankyou."

--- Later that evening ---

Gordon was quietly waiting at his berth after a busy day. He didn't know it yet, but his crew had a big suprise for him.

Soon his driver slowly approached him, carrying an adorable baby in his arm.

"Hey big fella, I want you to meet someone very special."

The driver then slowly and gently rested the infant on the engine's running board. The small child cooed and drooled, their pacifier was almost as big as their face. Gordon stared down at the child as they clapped excitedly at him.

*Gordon's face shifted slowly, melting into a warm doting smile*

"We're in the fostering stages right now, but I thought you two would like to get acquainted," the driver told him proudly, waving the baby's arm.

Now Gordon wasn't normally the type to let his guard down, but when as soon as he looked into the little baby's eyes, the driver immediately knew he was lost.

The big engine always was a big softy.

*Silly noises ensues*

The bigger they are, the harder they fall. Gordon's heart is no match for a tiny baby.

--- Babies, how do they work? ---

In recent years, it's become somewhat of an informal tradition for the engine crews to introduce some of their newest arrivals to their work.

The engine would be left to wait at the platform or sheds, the Fat Controller would step up with the parents, and one or both would gently introduce the little bundle.

Everyone loves a suprise and heaven knows it lights up that paticular loco's day. Even when the first initial meeting goes a bit awry, the loco usually comes around quick when they find out the infant shares their name.

The competition for the crew's attention fades quickly, and soon the silly machine will find themselves inexplicably third wheeling in their crew's family affairs.

"I'm your kid's uncle now, no arguments."

--- What happens next ---

You will get some locos insisting on an "official" Sodor tour, from the safety of the coaches mind.

Because it's good to start early introducing kids to the wonder of railways.

"On the footplate son, we leave at noon."

Thankfully, common sense often triumphs these days. No more babies next to smokey fireboxes or near fume vents, thankyou gentlemen.

The Fat Controller's has enough headaches without worrying about infant driving the trains.

--- Oh Lord, not the seating ---

Finally, there's the matter of "code baby," rarely and only ever used by people in the know, namely the railway staff.

This always sends alarm bells ringing and the poor crew screaming down the line to the nearest signal box.

"There's a woman in labor, the coaches are screaming, a gentleman has fainted, and the only doctor onboard is an orthopedic!"

These phonecalls are always met with slight panic, but almost as fast as the Fat Controller's sanity can spiral, he spurs into action.

"Oh lord in heaven, the poor upholstery!"

Once the panic settles, the railway quickly gets moving like the well-oiled wooden machine it is.

The Fat Controller was on the case.

"The signalman called for an ambulance and it'll be at the nearest station soon."

Then he turned to his awaiting team.

"You call the stationmaster, you call the cleaners, you send an alert out to halt traffic and clear the line, and you call the clinic and have my foot appointment moved up."

Everyone was on the toes, and word spread quickly to the sheds and workshops.

"There's a baby being delivered on a coach!"

"Oh no, not the upholstery!"

As the drama unfolded onboard, passengers quickly backed away and open windows to let in air.

"You find someone with water, you make her comfortable, and you search the luggage and look for towels."

"Anything I can do?" Asked the kind doctor.

"Her ankles are swollen."

The guard has been here before and he was prepared.

"This baby ain't waiting."

The coaches were mortified, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

The engine on duty ran as smoothly and quickly as possible, taking every shortcut and blazing down every line.

In no time at all they'd made it to the nearest station where the ambulance was onhand, but by then the job was done.

To the sound of applause and cheers, the passengers echoed as they erupted out of the coaches.

"It's a girl, it's a girl! They sang and cheered.

The guard had managed to pull off an awkward delivery while the engine was in motion. Soon the paramedics rushed in to check on mum and baby.

The Fat Controller had rushed down himself to personally help manage the crowds.

The guard and engine were indeed heralded as heroes that day. He got a handshake, a crate of beers and was even featured in the local paper.

"Sodor man makes special delivery."

The mother hadn't forgotten about the loco that helped her that day either.

For as old as that engine was, they had not only managed to get everyone to the station early, but in record time too.

And in their honour, the baby was christened the name Emily.

The Fat Controller even threw in a lifetime rail pass, a more than fitting gift for a baby born on his railway.

#ttte gordon #ttte stuff #ttte emily #some post that took over a week and a half #and burnt me to a stub #i'm still working on how to properly structure stories sobs #it's a learning thing #i also need to work on pacing

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haru-natsuka · 2 years

Text

Interest (Floyd Leech x Female Reader)

Genre: Romance

Lack of entertainment in life making Floyd bored but an interesting idea came into his mind, what if you gave birth to little you?...

You were simply chilling in Mostro Lounge which was barely occupied for the day as you played poker with Grim, Ace and Deuce. You were sipping on your chocolate milkshake for the last time and laughing at Grim due to his poorness in the game.

Out of nowhere, a glass was placed in front of you and when you tilted your head up, you saw Floyd was smiling at you, making you wonder what make him that happy. He was well known for his reputation for his fast shift in emotion so you could not blame yourself but felt rather suspicious.

"Here, here drink it up little shrimp. It's on the house." Sensing there was nothing much as the colour of the drink was the exact same as your chocolate milkshake and you had even asked the boys whether there notice magic being mixed with the drink. However, Ace who took pride in his skill made you believe his word that Floyd just giving you a second drink and that was all of it.

How wrong for you to believe that red-haired guy. Fortunately, Floyd was the one who revealed the truth himself.

"I cannot wait to see little shrimp's child" You were about to drink the second chocolate milkshake up but immediately spilt it straight on Ace's face as you were too caught out of guard by Floyd's word.

"UAARGHH! WHAT IS THAT FOR PREFECT!" Ace stood up and used his small napkin to wipe every water away with scowl evident on his face. He would get back to you later on for sure!

Without paying attentive attention to Ace's grumble to make you pay for his tomorrow lunch as compensation, you continued to cleanse well the inside of your mouth from any substance of the drink by coughing everything out on tissues.

"Huh, shrimpy-chan, why you waste it? Don't you know how long it takes for me to brew the potion? It'll be fun to see little you running around" Floyd whined as his mood slowly turned sour.

"Floyd-senpai, I'm still too young to get a child. I'm still in my first year." You tried to reason with him although you did not know how you manage to even talk with someone who was about to make you pregnant unnaturally.

This was all to avoid Floyd from having his mood swing and it would be harder to predict his move next. If now, he was kind enough to not force you to take whatever potion it was or squeezed you out of your life, then, his mood is still stable, hopefully.

"Everything was boring nowadays. I'm tired of meeting the same people. That's why we need to add someone new, hih hih hi"

He laughs rather hysterically upon fascinated with his idea sounds interesting to him. It was only him who liked it and you excluded obviously.

"Here, here another one. Azul is right to make a spare just in case. Drink drink shrimpy-chan. Until the last drop for the potion to take effect."

Seeing Floyd's sinister sharp-toothed grin with threatening different iris, you knew you would be squeezed alive if you ever rejected him. Searching for an escape route fast, the only opening you saw was ducking under the table to get away from your current position at the centre of the round table. Why did you choose that kind of sit in the first place?!

However, before you could even nimbly slide under the table, Floyd already yanked you towards him. His smile accompanied by all evilness seemed scarier when right in front of your face.

"Where do you wanna go, little shrimp? Hmmm..." Your breath hitched. The adrenaline was flowing through your blood cell at a rapid pace due to your heart thumping loudly. As powerless as you were, you use the last opportunity that crossed your mind.

"Grim, I will get you 100 tunas if you help me." Grim, without being told twice, threw fire at him, expecting you to keep the offer but Floyd was too powerful so he easily dodged the attack and the table beside him got burned instead. Azul would be very furious if he learned about the situation and yet if Floyd was the cause of it, what was the only thing he could do?

You managed to run away when Floyd lose hold of you while dodging Grim's fire and yet he was still hot on your trail. You should remember although he was an eel and not that used to living on the land, he was a part of the basketball club and his long legs granted for him to take a big step. Therefore, better be fast or little you would be really born from the potion shortly.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd x reader #octavinelle #octavinelle x reader #floyd twisted wonderland #floyd twst #twst x mc #twst x you #romance

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