#even from people who ship her with either brother

[042502]

₊ ⊹ summary. you start working with the triplets in the Pódcast where fans started a ship between you and Chris.

₊ ⊹ author's note. My first language is not English, if you notice any errors you already know why. If you want to read more about the boys, I leave you the m.list here.

Context of content below: You and the triplets work on a postcast-style radio. The company was interested in bringing the triplets with them, but they wanted to add a female voice, so they hire you to join them.

Since the program began, the good chemistry between you and the brothers was noticeable, fans of the program were fascinated by the relationship you had. Little by little you integrated and of course the fans began shipping between you and Chris, due to the content that both generated from a kind of bromance. Little by little they nurtured this bromance.

Fans started making small edits on TikTok about the little moments that you and Chris gave them.

"What is important to women in a man?" Nick asks.

"No, no, the question is what is attractive to women in a man," Matt corrects, pointing his finger at Nick.

"The detail-oriented guys, but not in material things, but those guys who remember something you talked about months ago." You answer.

"Yeah, those are so cute" Nick agrees with you.

Below are different clips from the stream where you are talking about different topics and Chris completes the sentences.

"Don't be a bad listener! If it makes you feel better, I peed my pants when I was little," you confess to help the listener who commented that he had a bathroom accident at school.

"Really?!" Nick makes a disgusted expression.

"Yes" you respond and Chris quickly rushes to speak as well.

"Yes, he told it. It was when you were six years old," you feel, giving the green light to Chris.

Another clip where they were playing to see who knew the most about you, in competition were Matt and Chris.

The question was: What drink is your favorite?

"Let's see your answer Matt" Nick speaks and his brother shows his board. "Matt says sprite" Nick turns to Chris. "Your turn Chris" Nick looks at Chris' board with the word coke written on it. "Chris says coke and the point is for Chris."

"She always has a Coca-Cola on her table, before doing the show she takes one and brings another for the rest of the show" Chris adds and you smile.

"It's true," you agree with Chris.

In another clip Matt didn't remember that you were going to tell about a particular anecdote and you tell him that you've even told it on the show.

"Yes, she said it." Chris holds the microphone in his hands, adjusting it. "She said she was even expelled from her high school for two days for that." 

"Yes, yes" you affirm.

"You know today I was on TikTok and a girl appeared talking about how nowadays people make things very complicated for being in a relationship" Matt begins to speak. 

"Like waiting for the other to move first" Nick joins in.

"Yes, but beyond that I actually think it's the fear of relationships. Today I think that the majority of our generation is not related to commitment, but to not having labels and things like that" Matt explains, holding his microphone close to his mouth so he can hear it better.

"I agree with what Matt says" you support Matt's words. 

"I think that now people are playing a kind of game, like giving you attention and then taking it away from you. How they are not usually very clear with their feelings, they play to see who feels less" says Chris, joining the conversation. "How is everything confusing?" He shifts in his seat when he notices that the camera is focused on you while he speaks.

"Honestly, I don't have that confusion," you frown. "And I don't confuse the other person either. I always try to be honest with my feelings, especially when I like someone" the camera focuses on Chris and he looks at the camera to smile sheepishly.

"I propose that for the next stream we get our partner a date" Nick looks at you knowingly.

"Accepted" you make a flirtatious pose.

"We could go to a hospital and find some doctor for you" Matt jokes knowing that you joke about having an affair with a doctor.

"OH! I love it!" You scream excitedly.

"Good idea Matt!" Nick congratulates his brother on the idea.

"Okay, I have to think about my outfit, I have a sexy black dress," you say, thinking about everything.

"Stop, stop, stop" Chris interrupts the excitement. "I think you shouldn't go" everyone stays silent looking at Chris confused. "We should go and choose for you," he rushes to explain.

Chris was invited to another program and was asked questions regarding his difficulty having girlfriends. Trying to delve a little deeper into his feelings.

"I have a question Chris" Chris looks at his partner. "Do you think you are loved more than you are loved or are you loved more than you love?" 

Chris wets his lips with his tongue before answering.

"I believe that I am loved more than I love" he responds and adjusts his cap on his head. "But, because it is difficult for me to show my feelings" 

"Be more vulnerable," says the man.

"Over time, maybe he showed more self, but you have to get to that point," he explains, putting his hand on his chin.

"And did anyone get to that point?" 

"No, no one has arrived, no one has arrived" Chris had a smile on his lips but moved his head sideways as he responded.

"Would you like someone to get to that point?" 

"I don't know, I don't know now. I'll have to wait for the time to come and someone to change my mind," he smiles.

The clip cuts out and many other clips appear where you are on the show with Chris. When it was her birthday and you brought her a cake with orange cream. The hugs that have been given repeatedly.

“Baby” Chris speaks and you look up in his direction.

"Why are you raising your head? Talk to Matt" Nick mocks you.

“No, I…” You laugh nervously.

Some clips where you were jealous, Maddison was invited to the program so she could give a short interview.

"Matt, your hair looks great today." Chris praises his brother, looking at him closely.

"Thanks Bro" Matt combs his hair smiling.

"Chris, you look good today too," Maddison praises Chris and he smiles sadly.

"Thank you" Chris thanks.

"Wow!" You let go and the camera focuses on you.

“Are you jealous?” Nick asks, teasing you.

Everyone says "uhh" and you just smile in denial.

But not only have you had moments of jealousy, Chris has had them too. On another show Nick commented that he has met someone who has a twin.

"I just found out that my friend Lenny has a twin brother," Nick says, putting his hand on his chest in amazement.

"Lenny has a twin brother? That's so cool!" You smile widely, excited.

Lenny was a friend of Nick's and he was very attractive, except that he had been in a relationship for five years, you were surprised to know that there would be someone identical someone and probably single.

"Why would that be cool?" Chris questions you. "Do you like Lenny?"

“No, no, no” you respond while laughing nervously.

Matt shoots Chris a flirtatious look for the provocative question.

. . .

The clips started bombing tiktok and of course you and Chris were aware of all these romantic ship clips that fans created.

"Guys clarification" you look at the camera that was focused on you. "For all those who are doing this stupidity" you raise your index finger, turning it so that it is understood that you speak for everyone. 

"Uy uhh uhh" Nick starts to say.

"No no. In this little Wattpad novel you act in the role of a serious person.

"Yes, listen" now the camera focuses on Chris, who also pretends to be serious.

"Here we have two images, we have two names, there are two faces. They use our photographs" you point to Chris and yourself. "We want" you and Chris make a money sign.

“Transfers, cash, money,” Chris mentions as he slams your fist into his other open palm. "Money on the table"

"We know what those soap operas are about, we need the naming rights" you hold the microphone tightly.

"If your Wattpad story goes viral, I'll go to your Barbie house myself and get all your money," Chris points to the camera. "You heard me" 

"Don't touch my pocket because people might die" you threaten and everyone laughs.

"I think the worst thing they can do to y/n and Chris is take their money" Nick spoke into the microphone.

In another program they invited Nate, you had a great friendship with Nate, it was very noticeable in the stream because they had many knowing glances, They made inside jokes and commented on each other's anecdotes. The fans noticed this and started a new shipping between you and Nate.

The next program the chat was attacked by messages with the name of your ship with Nate. There was nothing more than that.

"The chat is mentioning your shipping with Nate too much" Matt reads the chat.

"What the fuck is that?" Nick asks with a horrified expression.

"What does it mean?" Chris looks at the chat.

"It's the new shipping" Matt smiles looking at you.

"Are they stealing my girl?" Chris points to himself in surprise. "Your shipping with Nate sounds like a terminal illness. Your name and mine sound better." Chris looks at you and you nod.

"Yes, ours sounds much better" they both smile.

In another program they invited James, the boys' father. He faithfully followed the stream and of course was aware of the shipping.

"I have a question, do you and Chris like each other?" Everyone laughs at the boldness of the question.

"We have a shipment, that's true" you respond.

"Their signs are complementary opposites," says someone from the staff.

"Oh, that's important," James jokes.

"Honestly we have a good relationship, when I make a joke she always continues it or just laughs and when she makes a joke I continue it and we have a good relationship" explains Chris.

"We are the true comedy duo" you add and Chris nods.

"People make a lot of clips of us on tiktok" Jemes nods and whispers that he's seen them and Chris laughs embarrassedly.

"When I meet some fans of the show they ask me if you are a couple" Jemes confesses and you and Chris are amazed. "They're honestly cute together, I feel like there's something here" he looks at them both. "You" points to Chris. "Do you like it" 

"Me?" Chris looks away.

"Papa Sturniolo is feeding the shippeo!" You scream and Nick and Matt laugh.

"For dad" Nick hugs Jemes smiling.

"Just asking" 

"This is the end of today's program, thank you dad!" Matt waves goodbye to the camera.

₊ ⊹ author's note. Thanks for reading, remember to leave your like, a comment and share with your friends. Are you interested in being part of the taglist? Leave me a comment below and I'll add you.

₊ ⊹ taglist. @luverboychris @l34n @sturncakez @imwetforyourmom @hotreaderliin @tillies33ssss @sturnioloxlver @jnkvivi @stvrniolowh0re @adirtylittleheart @melonjollyranche @sssoniaswiftt @ecliphttlunar @jetaimevous @khxna @kiliaisinnnthehouseee @luvr4miya @xoxotaylynn @chr1sgirl4life @lovesturni0l0s @sturnthepot @stunza @certifiedstarrr

#﹙𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬. 𝐒﹚🦌 ， #੭ 🤍 ! 𝓈 #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfiction #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo soft #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher owen sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #matthew bernard sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fluff

[rainbow-flavoured-skittles]

Can you tell me more about your bad endings au? Like, from where in the timeline are each of them? Cole is probably either from the day of the departed or that fall from season 10 but I don't know about the others lol

dlfahslhfjhkehjkhldfds yes! and you're absolutely right about where Cole's timline split lol

Cole - during DotD, the ninja forget about him as in canon, but he doesn't go after Yang. this means they don't get attacked by any of their past villains, but Cole also doesn't go through the rift because it's never opened in the first place. so he spends a few years wandering around ninjago forgotten, until he finally snaps and goes after Yang. the details after that are a bit blurry, but he uses dark magic to become human again and "kill" Yang. after that he goes after the ninja and becomes one of their enemies, though they still can't remember him

Kai - his timeline splits the earliest out of all the ninja, meaning that he is the baby of the group. during the volcano scene in s1, where he would have saved Lloyd and gained his true potential, he doesn't. he went after the fangblade instead, but that meant his version of Lloyd died. they still manage to defeat Pythor and the Great Devourer, after that the ninja basically shun/reject him because of what happened to Lloyd. he ends up running away and becomes this lone vigilante-type figure who stops crime in hopes of "atoning" for Lloyd's death

Nya - during s6, Nadakhan kills Jay. she ends up going through through the rest of the season alone as the rest of the group are picked off until she's the only one left. she doesn't go to the lighthouse or gather up people to help her though, and goes after Nadakhan on her own. she pretends to be his bride and kills him at the wedding with the venom. then she escapes, or maybe sinks the ship and kills the rest of the crew. either way, she continues being the last remaining ninja, since the rest of them were in the sword when the ship sank, and is still doing that when multiverse shenanigans happen

Jay - also from a s6 timeline! the season goes exactly as it did in canon, but he doesn't use his final wish to reverse the timeline. he uses it to wish he was far away from Nadakhan. so he gets his wish and immediately regrets it because the rest of the ninja are still with Nadakhan. when he finally finds his way back to the ship he learns that the rest of the ninja are also dead. he tries to start a resistance to stop Nadakhan but fails and ends up doing it on his own. he's still trying and failing when the time twins arrive, who cause the entirety of ninjago to go to ruin, which is also about the time he'd meet the rest of the alternate ninja

Zane - the ninja don't go after him in s4. they assume it was a prank or joke. so Chen's plan fails and he keeps being held prisoner for years. eventually he escapes, somehow, kills Chen, and gets off the island. at that point the oni trilogy has passed and he realises how long it's been. he becomes really bitter towards the ninja for not even trying to find out if he was alive and actually starts to hate them, though he can't force himself to become a villain, so he just. doesn't let them know he's alive. he doesn't go to the monastery or help behind the scenes, he just goes back to his father's old workshop and lives there. he probably got a decently happy ending compared to the others actually

Lloyd - Garmadon actually succeeds in killing the ninja when he destroys the Bounty, so the earlier parts of the season just play out as in canon. they gather up a resistance and try to fight back against him, but then Nya gets executed and he's the last remaining ninja. he continues with the resistance, and when he finds the remains of the Bounty also finds that his brothers are dead rather than evidence that they're alive. this doesn't go well, obviously, and he starts bordering on insanity and vowing to kill Garmadon. he shuts out Misako and the rest of the resistance and is just about to go after Garmadon when he gets pulled into the multiverse

and now we arrive at when these versions of the ninja would meet each other. I'm still not sure on the details, but they end up in some sort of multiverse in-between space and attempt murder on each other before they sort everything out. none of them particularly want to stick together, but Lloyd convinces them. they figure out a way to go to different universes/timelines together and try to find one to live in, as well as going back to some of their original universes to cause chaos

#bad endings but also not au #asked #it's a very interesting au #they're very codependent #if you were to try and separate these guys from each other you'd get eviscerated #ninjago au #lego ninjago #ninjago #lloyd garmadon #nya smith #kai smith #cole brookstone #jay walker #zane julien

[loveinsomesacredplace]

#belly conklin #the older i get and the more stories i see #like clockwork i can count the nisogynistic takes from other women #about female characters esp if they’re in a romantic plotline #and i get protective and like the character more out of spite #mind you i’m older than belly #she’s my well meaning but messy niece #anyway team belly #i get disliking a character #and honestly there doesn’t need to be some deep reasoning behind it #but the hate belly gets #even from people who ship her with either brother #is so???? to me #literally love triangles are built for messy drama #people are going to get hurt!!! #but people thinking it’s solely belly’s fault when a) the boys participate b) they don’t see each other for most of the year #c) who the fuck started this mess in the first place? OH THAT’S RIGHT SUSANNAH #miss me with that blah blah belly doesn’t deserve jere he doesn’t deserve her bullshit #my ted talk: why Belly and Jere are the great loves of each other’s life and fuck a decades old dated endgame #local woman is too invested in the relationship of fictional teenagers and is ashamed of it #it’s me i’m local woman #im 🤡🤡🤡🤡

[tremendum]

heyy, can you write din djarin x reader where she's smth like a princess and he's hired as her bodyguard by her father or brother whatever you want (I know this is basic plot but can't help it 😭) tysm❤️🥰

i got u babes! its cute ive never written something like this but i hope u like it!! <3 its fluffier than anything ive really written to tysm for the request! also this is NOT PROOF READ im sorry

after midnight

(gif not mine!)  pairing: din djarin x fem!reader (afab, use of terms like princess/duchess/daughter)   rating: explicit.  (18+. mdni.)     word count: 6.2k summary: “you were... a princess. you were untouchable, and he knows better than to fall for one of his jobs. so he'd made a tower of armor to protect him from any attraction; but with every passing day he spent in your company, you happened to slip through those cracks like you were made for it.”  warnings: mentions of political unrest/uprisings, reader resents their parents/family because monarchy is BAD folks, threats of death, but smut (PiV, unprotected), mutual masturbation (m&f), teasing, light themes of possession at one point, mentions of eating. cumplay/creampie. i think that's it.

★  

YOU are no stranger to fear. 

it's been a gently lived life for you, in your several decades orbiting the power of your parents' suns.

the duchess of your family's system, the 'Prize Jewel' your mother loves to say; the one who got the love of the people but sought none of the power. 

you weren't the heir, not to the throne: that duty fell unto your younger brother, as per custom tradition. so you were coaxed into a life of sitting around, humming as your ladies in waiting braided your strands, staring longingly as your brother wielded blasters and vibro-blades; as if that is what constituted a good ruler. 

so perhaps the fear you've grown accustomed to is the fear of the mirrors that so delicately lined your chambers; the mirror that appears on your own face as any noble speaks to you, as your father commanded you to embark on diplomatic missions that should be left to those who have any stake in the future of the system. the mirror which constricts any true personality or truth from presenting you to the galaxy. you were the duchess, your parents' daughter; you were not yourself. 

you'd never gone off world, to either of the other planets in the crown's domain - until the day you did. 

that kind of fear was different. 

the tumultuous tracks of your heartbeat when that creaking drop ramp was sealed, those days ago; the footsteps that rang out like funeral chimes as the tall Mandalorian bowed his head to you before escorting you upwards into the cockpit of the ship that was to take you to the other side of the system.  

you were not, though, afraid of him. 

Mando had been your shadow for several months before you left on your enterprise - you were no longer frightened by the cold, sharp angles of his body, the dark rumbling of his scarce voice. now, that same low hum as he listens to you is welcomed. encouraged. sought for. 

no, the fear was from something else; there was a scratching, a slow but insistent simmering that tightened the muscles of your lower back and your upper neck until you woke up in sharp gasps of discomfort.

maybe the fear was in the winding hills that turned into mountains, jagging up and into the sky; your fear clung to you even as you lifted your legs and climbed over top of them - those towers to the sky - and settled yourself with the acknowledge that your parents had sent you on this diplomatic embarkment to a hostile insurgence group with nothing more than the Mandalorian bodyguard and a datapad containing an ultimatum which was surely the fuse to the ticking bomb of your family's dominating sovereignty. the crashing of a scepter, or the squashing of a bug. 

thankfully your father, in all of his Majesty's grace and wisdom, had offered you a full set of your Ladies of the Household on your journey - as if they'd protect you from blaster fire, or kidnapping, or whatever joys may have lied in wait for you once you reached the rebel territory. 

and he knows you are highly mistrusting of those parasitic Mynocks he calls the Kingsguard; that was in fact the sole reason he'd hired the Mandalorian to be your personal guard.

so your father at least had the sense not to call upon the lord commander to escort you, as it would be likely you'd either be dead come nightfall or your cot would be empty come morning rise. 

so he'd insisted on only the Mandalorian instead. 

a fiercely dauntless man, a walking shield, as clever as he is dangerous. 

after seeing him fight, there was no doubt Mando could protect you from hundreds if he needed to. 

there was a stint by another insurgent rebel group, of which your family was battling many currently; they'd made threats on your life, so Mando has shown up with a personal arsenal and enough intimidation to make any man fall to his knees.

it took all of thirty seconds of staring at his figure, hearing his voice, to decide you'd fall to your knees for him, too.

and just before you were ordered to visit the duke of the defecting planet, you were informed he would be replacing the four kingsguard subordinated to Mando who usually escorted you around the kingdom.

one man instead of five? you were sure the King was finally sending you to your death, punishing you for his lifelong regret that you'd not been a son. 

but you soon came to like Mando and his stoic, taciturn presence. 

and at least your instructions were simply to deliver the ultimatum and leave the atmosphere within the hour; the insurgent's strategists would not, as your father and his Hand had believed, have enough time to read through the full terms before deciding they should just break into the duchess's chambers and slit her throat anyways. 

you escaped the planet with nothing but a blaster shot grazing Mando's side and the hate of an entire species of oppressed constituents hurling insults at the Crown.

no slit throat for you - but in the end, you wouldn't even blame them if they'd tried. 

you know, now, that your fear clouded your eyes, as bright as they may have been back when Mando was hired as your bodyguard. but they grew thick, the clouds lifting into the stratosphere and slipping into Mando's helmet with the modulated, quiet inhales you've come to know almost as your own. you don't think he ever intended to frighten you.

he was there to protect you. and he has. 

he has not left you since arriving to the midway planet, where you'll stay for a few days before returning back to your kingdom planet.

here, there is fresh air, the salt of the sea, deep ripe fruits, and warm breezes. there is no fear here, only heat. 

Mando helps with that, though he won't let you admit it. 

as you stare at that unwavering gaze, surrounded by the gilded intricacies of the farewell feast, all you can do is imagine him. Mando, his body on yours, that cold, heavy metal against the thrill of your heated bare skin. he tilts his head slightly at you; you wink at him over your cup of wine. the man next to you makes conversation about your father's latest agriculture subsidies.

you look back to find the relaxing - bone chilling- gaze on you still. you wonder if he'll crack before you do. 

there have been close calls; once, when you'd drank a bit too much ale in the city square and Mando had carried you back to the keep, tucked you into bed as you tried to pull him in with you - you should stay, Mando - the time he'd agreed to teach you to spar and you'd ended up wide-eyed and pinned beneath his very sturdy frame. 

you've seen the pressure on his flightsuit beneath those layers when you'd teased him - his own admission of guilt, that he feels something for you, too.

when you'd asked him to help you shoot a blaster, when you'd left the fresher open to shower, or not particularly covering up when you prepared yourself for the day. though he was always there, always at attention for the slightest danger. 

even last night, you felt the stuttering in his breaths when you'd sat on your bed, staring down at him - his hand in the nook of your knee, the other unlacing your sandals that'd crawled up your supple calves the entire day. you'd felt his leather hands brush against the soft skin of your thigh, the way that helmet had stared up at you from between your legs. at your service. 

you know he could see the way you jolted when he'd place his hands on your hips in passing, or how you'd get particularly flustered at the flip of a blaster trigger, the flex of a muscle under a flightsuit. you didn't try to hide your attraction to him. 

but all of those things; those moments you had - even the subtle brushes of his hand just low enough on your lower back, the smiles you'd share even with the barrier of his cold beskar, the soft conversations you'd hold just between the two of you: all, under the soft shadows of the moons which orbit you. 

never in the broad daylight.

those souvenirs, the ones which you held close to your heart in the last few weeks, high up in the pews of your heart's cathedral; all idolized yet forgotten with the mornings that rise in clean beskar glinting and sleep rubbing from your eyes.  

-- 

DIN is sure you're looking straight through him.

those eyes; you're coy the way you look at him now, over the meal you eat at the table. 

swirling with mischief. 

that trouble-making look, the one he's studied for months as your personal guard. to the constituents of your family's crown, you were the sweet, young girl destined to marry away and sire many noble children. but behind palace doors, you were alive, you were a bolt of electricity that was never to be tamped down.

Din remembers how fiery you'd been when the King had ordered Mando to escort you to the insurgents with your Ladies of the House. you'd requested they not accompany you in this formidable expedition because, as he recalls you'd said, 'how can my bodyguard spare to protect not me but also ten others? shall we just get it over with and behead us all right here?' 

he'd smiled behind that helmet when the King and Queen had heard your snippy tongue.

and so it was just you and him, as it'd been for months. and he likes it that way, as much as he would never admit that; you're a kind woman, much too old to be under the reigns of your parent's power but too caught in the web of bureaucracy to untangle yourself from it. 

Din sees you tilt your head at him, blatantly ignoring the conversation at the table. heat courses through him at your adamant, keen attention on him despite him likely being the least worthy of your thoughts in this room. still, as always, you tease him. 

a drop of a wink; syrupy, sweet, and much too indecent for the public space; much less for you to deliver towards your personal guard. he burns red under the helmet, heat rushing down towards his groin at the way your lips move around the spoon in your mouth. 

you know he's watching you, of course; he's always watching you. it's in the job description. 

maybe that's the problem: he watches too much. it's always been hard for him to remain simply professional with you, but it's been much more challenging the last few nights as he's tried to get a few hours of shut-eye in the dead of night; with your sweet soft breaths on that large, plush bed that nearly swallows you whole. 

it's been excruciating - watching, as you run your hands over your bare legs, kissed by a sweet silk nightgown. massaging your plush skin, slipping just above the hem before dipping down - your lashes fluttering up at him as he stands tall and at attention over you. 

he was a dead man, and he'd known it the moment he laid eyes on you.

you were... a princess. you were untouchable, and he knows better than to fall for one of his jobs. so he'd made a tower of armor to protect him from any attraction; but with every passing day he spent in your company, you happened to slip through those cracks like you were made for it. 

he wonders if the true tragedy after all was his not watching: although you'd left the crack in the door when you'd stepped into the fresher last night, toweling off your soft skin as steam curls round the doorframe and pulls at him like the tentacles of some lust-ridden beast. you'd given him one of those coy smiles last night as you'd slinked out of the fresher: "thought you said you were always watching, Mando." 

you had him wrapped around your dainty, manicured finger and you knew it.

your brows raise at him as you look back up to where he stands, just on the other side of the table, as the diplomats around you at the table buttering you up with a glass of wine, a divine feast, and fancy political phrases. 

it doesn't suit you, as you've claimed to him countless times as you strip the bangled gold from your neck, ears, fingers, thighs and slip into something a little more comfortable and a lot less modest. it doesn't really suit you, he guesses. he likes you much more in the throes of your casual time; wearing trousers and a tunic, blaster strapped to your thigh though you don't quite know how to wield it. when you have no handmaidens to primp you and pluck you, to comb their fingers through your hair or paint fancy colors onto your eyelids. you were heavenly like that, in your most comfortable state. 

that word; heavenly. the word sounds adolescent, when he looks at you.

you transcend beauty; you're alive, you're nothing but yourself, a woman with life and regret that her world bore her name long before she was born. you told him, as he escorted you through the war-torn scrappings of the insurgent city the day before, that you wished to be free from the chains of royalty. to the royal court, you were nothing but a mirror for them to project their desires. 

when you look up at him with those tempting eyes, smirking at him when nobody at the table is looking - Maker, Din swears he will throw away everything he's worked so hard to keep professional. 

-- 

YOU had pulled the best of the feast onto your napkin once you bid the hosts thanks for the feast, hiding it under the layers of your gown as Mando walked you back to your chambers. 

"I kept you some." you offer meekly now, heat painting your face as you offer the spread to him, having taken off your shoes yourself this time. he'd kept his sight on you the whole time, the visor of his beskar piercing you with each movement. 

his helmet tilts in question; you spread open the napkin to reveal the small feast of delicacies you'd packed for him. you wonder how he'd missed it, when his eyes were always on you. 

"you shouldn't have." he's demure in tone, shifting from his casual position leaning against one of the stone pillars near the intricate dressing screen to standing evenly on both long legs; you smile gently, heart fluttering. 

"I thought you deserved some of the feast." you reason, "you did more work than I did, after all." you grin, shrugging a shoulder. you feel the fabric slide over your bare shoulder and it brushes against you like a feather; a ghost of lips that could never be blessed upon your skin. 

cursed to always lie in weight under the heavy support of beskar. 

but his fingers; they're a different story. 

they're gentle, tingling as they brush up the expanse of your deltoid, cascading with a buttery kind touch to return your dress to its rightful place. his hand, swallowed by the leather that protects you so devotedly, trails down your arms, soothing every goosebump that rises in its path. your hand catches his wrist before he can pull away; the tantalizing, intoxicating air in the room rendering him languid as you pull, gently, until your lips press gently to the tip of his thumb.

his breath falters in a staccato as you gently, tenderly press kisses to the tips of each finger; each, a promise. an unnamed affection for the man who does nothing but protect, nothing but exhilarate. the movement feels like the stretch of a plastic band, stretching the tensile strength of your aptitude for waiting, for restraining yourselves. 

you wait with baited breath for it to snap in your faces. 

it doesn't, though. his hand falls away gently, leaving you to still orbit around each other like lonely stars, crossing paths every few blue moons. 

when he speaks, he sounds almost strained. "thank you, ner cyar'ika. you are kind." 

your cheeks are warm and they heat up more when you smile up at him. and this time when you step away into the fresher, you make sure the door is fully closed. 

the water is warm, curling tendrils of milky sweet oils that bathe your skin in a sweet, plush aroma. you return to the main room slowly after you bathe, ensuring he'll have enough time to return his helmet to its proper place before you see. you wring your hair out with your hands as Mando rises from where he sat on the loveseat; his full height shining that reflective metal against you. your warped, clean, scrubbed reflection stares back at you. 

he.... he sees you. 

you've always noticed it; maybe that's why you'd commanded your father's men to leave you at the first sight of the Mandalorian's skills - you see a lot of yourself in him. a life concealed behind the preceding reputation: a princess - young, beautiful, generous, stagnant. a Mandalorian - bounty-hunter-turned-guard, sturdy, resourceful, rough. 

mirrors follow you no matter where you go. they've been thrust upon you your entire life, every snaking hallway of the kingdom winding down reflective images of your youth, bouncing you from person to person, nothing but a blank canvas for the aristocracy to paint their whims upon. 

you suspect, as you stare at Mando's unwaveringly reflective armor, that he understands that more than either of you could know. your heart soars with affection as you pad up to him, craning your neck to take in his entire height. 

"did you enjoy it?" you ask with a small smile, combing your fingers through your wet hair. he nods, "yes, cyare. thank you." 

you shake your head, unburdened by the gesture of gratitude. "let me guess- your favorite was the..." you pinch your chin with your fingers, scrunching your nose as you pretend to think. "chocolate cake." you say finally, tilting your head as you try to gage his reaction. 

a tilt of a helmet, flickering in the candlelight of your chambers. "yes." he sounds surprised; as if you didn't know just as much about him as he knew of himself. it sparks butterflies in your stomach. 

"I know you like it sweet, Mando." you tease, sending him a soft wink as you set your face cloth down on the table he leans against; you stare up at him from this angle, your movements molasses as you smile, hand sneaking around his ribs to hold him lightly. his hand rises tentatively to steady your waist, thumb rubbing the satin of your nightgown. "don't worry, I do too." you whisper. 

he sighs. 

it's a soft, gentle thing; one that nobody would dare imagine your big, bad Mandalorian protector to ever release. but you know him. you see him - Mando is many things, and one of them is hesitant. not unwilling, or shy: hesitant. 

(you'd wait a thousand lifetimes for him.)

"cyar'ika," he starts, tone slipping into that gently warning one - the kind he gets when he's feeling bashful. "I don't like it when you tease me." he chides, and it's - kriff, it's playful. you can almost see the grin behind that helmet; his fingers pinch at your sides gently and you screech with laughter, swatting away his touch but hoping he'll soon return it, much like a magnet. 

"you do, though." you defend, emboldened by the privacy and the budding tenderness that coaxes you into his arms. his hands soothe over your hips as you stare in silence.

warmth surrounds you; coaxes you to mutter it-

"stay with me, tonight?" you whisper, eyes wide at your own words, shocked you'd finally given in to all of the hunger that has swirled between you for all this time.  his helmet tilts. "I am always here with you. my job is to watch you." he says gently, the lilt of guilt ever present in his voice.

you shake your head, eyes shutting in frustration - not at him, never - at who, then? your father? your mother? the last name you've been cursed with for your life? the privilege, the restraint? 

"Mando." you say, pressing your palms flat against his chest. "you know what I mean." your eyes swirl with emotion: please, Mando, I can't keep waiting like this. 

he waits. "it would be wrong." 

you tilt your head, "it wouldn't." but you, much like him, are at a loss for words. a life of inoculation has rendered you unable to express any semblance of amorous emotions, even to this man - the one who is your confidant, your protector, and possibly your only true friend in this world. "I need you. I will-" you swallow, your heart thundering with desire, "I will do anything for you, Mando."  

you can't resist the growing wetness in the apex of your thighs as his helmet moves over your figure, wrapped in a silky robe and still wet from bathing. he hums lowly, a long and slow sound, his head tilting ever so slightly as you clench your thighs in search of relief from the growing pressure. 

"I have wanted you since I met you." he sighs, hands falling from your shoulders. "but... I shouldn't touch you." 

-- 

DIN can see your eyes flicker down as he says it. 

maker damn you; you've always been too clever for him. he sees the hunger swirl in your blown out pupils, the same hunger that plagues his mind and has sent blood rushing downwards. he feels himself throb as you grin up at him, lashes fluttering as a droplet of silky water trails down the expanse of your bare, awaiting neck. 

you know him, you see him. and he thanks all of the stars that you know how badly he needs you, too. 

"well, if you can't touch..." you tilt your head to stare up at him through your lashes, loosening the robe which covers your silk nightgown; each inch that slips down your body, Din feels himself stiffen and heat with desire. "...you can at least watch." you whisper, letting the robe drop before you step back from his figure; his eyes trace over every curve, each smooth line and jagged bump. 

when you're far enough away, he lets out a shaky breath. "gar Kelir ruin ni, dala" he mutters to himself, swallowing thickly as your figure slinks away from him, traipsing onto your plush bed.

his heart thunders in his chest; you lie on your back, gently, eyes meeting his somehow through the shield of beskar as you move your hands slowly, slowly up your legs. silk catches on your deft fingers as you tease yourself, sighing in relaxation. 

Din, standing rigid as a pole as he watches you, cannot look away. you seem flushed, even as your fingers trail over your breasts, toying with the pert nipples which poke through the smooth fabric of your dress. a whimper; high-pitched, breathy as your eyes splinter to Din again. "fuck," you whisper, one hand dragging down to torturously drag the hem of your gown upwards, up, up- 

he's salivating. 

your thighs, plush and welcoming, spread as you spread your glistening cunt for Din to see. for him, he realizes, only for him. a dark wash of possession shudders his whole being as you let out a whimper, the cool air hitting your wet, hot heat as your fingers start to spread your juices; it takes every ounce of restraint from Din to not just pounce on you, take you right now. 

your finger finds your swelling clit and your strangled groan sounds too much like his name - your eyes are hooded, littered with desire and pleasure as you lie out on display for him. 

he can't help but watch; his cheeks, hot. his hands, clenched - his heart, thundering, beating hard as Din watches you touch yourself with hungry eyes. your moans are smooth, melodic to his ears as you slowly dip one finger into your heat, whimpering as the stretch as your greedy little hole swallows you up. 

he can't stand it. 

Din takes a step forward, a staggering, desperate step towards the bed- your eyes snap up from where they'd watched you take your own fingers, eyes blown wide. you whimper, you goddamn whimper it, "M-Mando." 

--

YOU almost pass out when he mutters it, low and baritone. 

"take it off." Mando mutters darkly. 

you stop your languid pumps as you stare up at him, eyes wide as you see him, now looming just over you, eyes trained still on your heat. 

slowly, you sit to peel the dress off of yourself, the material catching on your nipples and sending a shiver down your body. 

you're soon bare; laid out for him, your entire body on display for him as you stare up, chest heaving with desire. his helmet does not leave your form as he watches your hand snake back down, toying with your wetness as it pools out of you, dripping onto the mattress below you. 

there are thousands of things you wish to say; nothing escapes you except whimpers and moans, the muted, heated pleasure swirling through you as you slip your fingers into yourself, pumping languidly. if you close your eyes, you can almost imagine the bite of cold beskar on your bare chest; the thickness of a warm cock slipping through you. 

your eyes stay on him instead, though; the reflection of your squirming, pleasured body on his beskar. you feel sweat sheen your forehead. 

your heart nearly stops as Mando slowly starts to palm himself; his cock, hard and strained against the fabric of his flightsuit as his hands pull himself out of the pants. your eyes widen and your fingers start to pump into you quicker, moaning out Mando's name as his hand slowly starts to pump himself. 

his cock, skin golden and veins prominent as he pleasures himself to the sight of you. arousal floods around your fingers as your other finger falls to lazily toy with your neglected clit. one hand grasps your breast and pinches a pert nipple, your back arching as you whimper. 

you need Mando, you need him. 

"fuck, fuckfuckfuck M-Mando, I need you. i-it's not enough, need more." you groan, the dam breaking as the low high you've been riding simmers. 

he stops his own movements, his chest heaving beneath the beskar. 

"I don't-" you swallow around your dry throat, "I don't think I can cum without you." you admit, heart thundering as you stare up at the beskar wall. "please." 

he pauses and your words hand in the air; suspended by a string, one that is tight and ready to snap. 

"stand up, princess." he orders.

--

DIN almost smiles at the speed at which you scramble on eager legs, to stand up, staring up at him with wanton need. he takes a deep breath before one hand reaches out to graze the swell of your breast; the plush give of soft skin, the goosebumps that trail behind his touch. his cock twitches as your hands find him, pumping slowly as you bite your lip. 

he groans at the soft feeling of your gentle hands around his thickness; your lips grazing over his beskar chestplate. 

his hands tug you as he falls to the mattress; a squeal leaves you as your hands grip onto his shoulders, "Mando!" 

he grins beneath the helmet. 

the smile slowly fades into a grunt of pleasure as you eagerly find your place straddling his hips; your wet hot cunt envelopes his cock with your slick, rubbing him as you whimper. "fuck, cyar'ika." he grunts. "gonna fuck you nice and good. promise." he mutters. 

you smile as you nod, "maker, Mando. I've-I've dreamt of this." you mutter. he smirks- he knows you have. he's heard it. 

but the pride is soon washed away with shock and pleasure as you line his head up at your entrance, easing onto him gently; his hands squeeze your bare skin and he wishes he could pull his gloves off and really feel you. 

dank ferrik, you are so tight around him; swallowing his thickness in your greedy cunt as your breath stutters, gasping at the stretch. you're hot, wet, and Din's eyes shut tight at the feeling. kriff, he won't last long. 

you take him gently, slowly, and all Din can do is breathe through it and resist his hips from bucking upwards and spearing you into two.

his brain is a puddle as you fully sheath yourself on him, thighs plush and shaking as you swallow him. 

"that's good." he mutters, breath shaky, his hands guiding you to move against his hips, "how does it feel, princess?" 

"Mando, fuck, y'so big, filling me-" you're moaning and he thinks he may pass out; heavenly, heavenly, you you you- 

you groan as you start to fuck yourself on top of him, your gummy warm walls coaxing Din towards his high, having been spurred along by the pleasure you'd been giving yourself earlier. 

you shudder at the curling sensuality of his words and he can feel you gripping him tighter and tighter, pulsing around him and dragging him down with you into the depths of pleasure. shivers of pleasure coast down your entire body as Din starts to piston up, his thick length, smooth and hard, spearing into your hot cunt. your desire drips down and smothers the fabric of his flight suit; briefly, he thinks he will never wash them again. your breath is laborious as you near your high- Din chases his, too, because this has already gone on for too long and he's greedy, as greedy as your tight, pretty cunt is and- 

he lets out a splintering moan when you cum with a scream; your legs quivering, weakening as you slump against him. Din fucks you through your high with a moan of his own, pushing up into your pulsing pussy, the wetness easing him to spear into you with a fire of ecstasy. 

"good- you're so good, y'feel so good, Mando," you whimper. that's it for him - he cums with a long groan, release snapping through him with a moan of your name. 

he sees colors, shapes of you in a meadow, spread on a blanket with him taking you from above; with you riding him in the cockpit of his ship; you, thighs spread on your father's throne while he delves his tongue through your plush folds. 

you are his. you will always be his, nobody else's. he will consume you.

he fucks up into you as he rides through his high, his seed smearing your chanel as he holds you close. "fuck," he mutters, rolling you both onto your sides as his hand caresses your cheek. 

"s'good." you mumble, smiling at him. 

he smiles back. you can't see it, but he knows you can feel it. 

"m'not done with you yet, princess." he promises, tugging you towards the edge of the bed, spreading your legs to see his own seed leaking out of you, mixed with your own wet, sticky spend. it's a sight better than any he's ever seen; shivers of desire roll down Din's spine. 

and then Din spends his time on top of you, pulling orgasm and orgasm from you until you're crying, shaking and heaving breaths; he's shaky, drunk from the pleasure of your wet arousal. he aches to taste you, to coax you to sleep with his tongue lapping up your spend; he needs to taste you. 

perhaps, another time. 

he soothes himself for now with his fingers, his cock; another time, he will taste you. 

--- 

YOU are exhausted. you can barely stay awake; but as Mando lays with you between the sheets, you can't help but feel so alive. the sun starts to creep towards the horizon line, over the shimmering sea; the gentle breeze of the world flowing through the faint curtains. 

"Mando?"

he cranes to look down at you, his thumb tracing over your spine.

"in the morning," you start, your hand trailing over his beskar. you figure it isn't comfortable to don this armor in the plush of your mattress; he stays no matter, willing to give you what you want. always, whatever you want. forever.

him.

you chew your lip, "will we- I mean, I just..." 

a thumb, warm though marred with old leather, pulls your lower lip from the clutches of your pearled teeth, soothing over the plush, bitten skin. a shiver runs down your spine as he coaxes you to stare up into that endless helmet. 

"what is it, mesh'la?" his voice is deep and soothing in its modulated baritone. you preen at the nickname in his native tongue and though he has willingly taught you words and phrases of his language, you are unsure of this one's translation. it sounds lovely coming from him. 

"please don't take me back." you whisper. 

he tenses under you; you can feel it. you wish you didn't have to plague him with your burdens of asking him such a crime; to take the duchess, the girl made of nothing but stardust, and give her the life she deserves. 

a whisper of your name. quiet, an exhale gentle and barely picked up by the modulation function of the helmet. 

--

DIN has been waiting for you to say it.

he wonders just about when he realized you were going to ask him to take you away. was it just now, after you'd finally connected in bliss? was it last night, when he'd taken a blaster shot to protect you - his job, of course, but a lifetime of debt to repay to him, you'd claimed - or, perhaps, was it all those months ago? 

your words pull him from his shock as you mutter softly.

"would you take me with you? away?" 

all the moments shared between your two souls wait with baited breath as Din tries to find his words through his thundering heart. 

"in the morning..." he parrots your words from before, but with a different tone. regret. his heart thumps as you tilt your head, bare shoulder glinting in the light of the moons. "will you still want that? will you want..." he doesn't finish the question, but he doesn't have to. not with you.  want me? 

you look at him with eyes so soft he almost melts. "I've always dreamt of leaving my life. it's not who I am." you're firm in your words, hand curling over his shoulder as you blink, "I never thought I would act on it. I had nothing to do, nowhere else to go. but now..." you shrug and he starts to feel hot at the implications in your voice. 

Din's heart thuds importunately under your sweet palm; could you feel it, under all the layers that separated his body from your bare one? 

"if-if you'd have me... it'd be a dream to stay with you. wherever you go." 

Din can't breathe; so many words burst to the forefront of his mind, but all he does is stare in awe. 

you'd been watching life through the jail of your parent's grasp your whole life; and what is the princess of a mid-rim planet to the rest of the galaxy? 

stardust.

"wasted dreams?" you ask softly, shaking your head, "that's worse than death, Mando." 

-- 

YOU fall asleep with Mando's arms wrapped tightly around your middle; the weight of beskar pushing you deeper into the comfort of knowing you've spent your last night ever in this system. 

his words echo in your head. 

in the morning, mesh'la, we will leave here. wherever you'd like. 

it's illicit; the things you're about to do, the traditions which will be seared. your eyes, bleary with exhaustion and hope, looks to the mirror across the room.

you lie in the arms of the Mandalorian, bare besides the plush sheets which wrap around your figures - and when you stare into the reflective piece of decor directly across, it's you who stares back in the reflection. you smile to yourself.

stardust.

those moments, you hope, will shine in broad daylight now in tandem with the sweet secrets after midnight. 

-

taglist: @silkiers @toobsessedsstuff @millersdjarin @tizylish @cloufire @kalea-bane @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis @hello-th3r3 @bbyanarchist @ponyboys-sunsets

-

requests open. message for Din's taglist or Joel Miller's!

-

#din djarin smut #din djarin fluff #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian x reader smut #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader smut #sw smut #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #tremendum’s space cowboy✒️

[buckybarnesb-tch]

I am Yours, You are Mine -Aemond T.

This is an A/B/O fic. You have been warned.

Everyone knew, they had always known.

It wasn’t hard to figure out from what I assume, my mothers children are all boys with brown hair and brown eyes, I have white hair and purple eyes. Everyone knew my older brother Jace and my younger brothers Luke and Joffrey were Harwin Strongs children and just like that, everyone knew that I was the daughter of Daemon Targaryen.

Laenor hadn’t been able to give my mother a child and I looked nothing like him, Daemon however…I’m told I’m the spitting image of him. So while I am technically a bastard, I’m also full Targaryen, so I was never treated like it. I was born only 5 moons after Aemond was and therefore was raised with him in a way, as we grew up his older brother Aegon and my older brother Jace got close, at least closer than they were to us and Aemond got picked on a lot. He didn’t have a dragon, and while I didn’t either, everyone knew to leave me alone, whether it was because I was a girl or because I was Daemons daughter I don’t know. My father is the only current Targaryen Alpha in the world and that made people so much more terrified of him than they already were.

Most people in the world present as Betas, it’s normal and no one really thinks twice about it, an Alpha however is a blessing from the Gods. He will be stronger, and tougher, and defend your family better than a Beta can, at least that’s what people believe, an Alphas instincts being so much stronger than a Betas, the only presentation stronger still is an Omega, and an Omega is considered a blessing from the mother herself. Presentation happens around puberty but usually you can see certain traits in children to tell if they will be anything other than a Beta, my mother believes I will be an Omega because even with a father like Daemon I’m quiet and sweet, always the most submissive in the room which for a Princess is a good thing.

Aemond and I spent more and more time together as we got older, him being shunned from the group with his older brother and mine, along with Luke who followed them around like a puppy and didn’t mind getting pranked once in a while. Aemond was the smartest of all of them, he enjoyed learning, and training, but most of all, he had no dragon. Neither of our dragon eggs hatched and the both of us bonded over that, and I always tried to make my uncle feel better when they had been particularly cruel, like the day they gave him a pig instead of a dragon. We skipped dinner that night and sat together in the library for hours just talking. He was my best friend, and my closest ally in the world, we made promises to always be there for each other.

The promises of children never seem to last though…even if the children weren’t the ones to break them.

After Joffrey was born mother moved us back to Dragonstone, me kicking and screaming, clinging to my uncle who held me just as tightly until our mothers gave up. We had a small second of hope as I wrapped my arms around his neck and he held me to him so tightly it almost hurt. That’s when our mothers called for their guards and we were yanked apart harshly and I was carried all the way to the ship that would take us home.

We weren’t apart for long after that, my fathers wife dying in childbirth brought us back together for her funeral. As soon as I saw him I pulled away from Jace and ran to Aemond who held me close and breathed in my scent as I did his, it was a comfort that only we seemed to give each other. I stayed by his side holding his arm while everyone spoke about Laena, saying kind words about a women I barely knew while my “father” stood in the ocean below, crying for the Gods only know how long.

Aegon was with us for some time, watching the maids and being his normal vile self and eventually we were alone, speaking as if no time had passed at all. That moment as we sat on the steps talking would be one I regret for many years to come, watching Aemond as he gazed at Vhagar. I knew my uncle wanted a dragon, more than even I did and I told him he should go, as the sun went down and people filed inside to bed, I encouraged him to mount her while he had the chance. 2 hours later I was awoken to a knight running into my room to check on me and seeing I was in bed and fine. I followed him downstairs to my mothers relief, Luke was bleeding from the nose, Alicent was angry beyond belief and my uncle and best friend sat with a maester stitching his eye up. I moved to his side quickly, taking his hand in my own and holding it tightly, allowing him to squeeze it as he got stitched up and everyone continued screaming. I didn’t care for the politics, I didn’t care for the threats, or insults, only that my favorite person sat beside me maimed and my brothers had done it. I stayed by his side for the rest of the evening, even as the maester gave him milk of the poppy to be able to sleep, snuggling into his chest and feeling his arms around me as he slept soundly and all the while I felt sick to my stomach knowing that what Jace had said to me when I hugged my mother had been completely true… ‘This is all your fault’

I was taken from Aemond’s bed late in the morning, he had awoken to eat and been put back to sleep, all the while clinging to my hand. My mother took us home immediately, we went back to Dragonstone and so did Daemon who quickly married my mother as soon as Laenor passed.

Jace and Luke were quick to blame me for everything, knowing that I had encouraged Aemond to mount Vhagar, maybe if I hadn’t he would still have his eye and I wouldn’t have had to leave again. Maybe Rhaena wouldn’t despise me for “helping to steal her mothers dragon” even if I don’t believe you can have claim to a dragon if it hasn’t chosen you. Jace and Luke spent all their time with Baela and Rhaena and I was left alone, not wanting to be near my brothers to hear about how much they and Aemond despise me, how the only person I had ever truly loved besides my mother wouldn’t even write to me anymore no matter how many times I wrote him apologizing. My mother and father were the only people I ever spoke to anymore, Daemon practically claiming me as his own even if he couldn’t “officially” do that and I learned that being alone is better for everyone, especially once I presented. Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena had all presented as Betas as expected but I was “blessed” to a life as an Omega, suffering through my heats alone in a locked room, only maids to bring me food and try to relieve my pain which never worked.

I was 15 before I was truly blessed with anything in my life, out for a walk by myself, having escaped my guard and stumbling upon a dragon. The Grey Ghost was a name given to a shy, pale dragon, one I never hoped to even get a glimpse of in my life and I suddenly had, his eyes locked on mine as if waiting to see what I would do and so I reached into my bag to get the bread I brought with me and the fish I planned to cook on my little adventure, tossing them to him and watching as he snubbed the bread and ripped the fish apart. I had sat down on a boulder, watching as he ate, assuming this would be the only time I would ever see this elusive creature but it wasn’t. He had laid down to nap after eating and the next day he sat at the same spot as I brought him an even bigger fish. That went on for nearly 2 weeks of me bringing him food and talking to him before he approached me and allowed me to touch him, letting me mount him after that. I kept him away from the pits, away from everyone who only saw him when I went flying, knowing he was just as comfortable around people as I was, which was not at all. I even had all of my riding gear dyed as close to his color as I could, making it truly impossible for anyone, even another dragon rider to find us in a cloud bank. Daemon was impressed, believing it was a useful skill, especially for an Omega to be able to hide like that. Life continued on like that until Corlys’ injury, resulting in all of us needing to return to Kings Landing to fight for Luke’s inheritance. I was less than enthusiastic about going but my mother forced me onto the ship.

In Kings landing once again I was stuck with Jace and Luke as mother and Daemon wanted to go see Grandfather, forcing me to follow them to the training yard that I hadn’t seen since I was a small child. Everyone’s attention was on a fight in the center of the yard and I pushed between Jace and Luke to be able to see, seeing Criston Cole fighting a young man with an eye patch and knowing instantly that it’s Aemond, and that he is winning, dodging the mace repeatedly before his blade was at Cole’s throat and I ducked behind Jace and Luke, catching a very strong Alpha scent as I did and feeling my stomach twist into a knot.

‘Nephews. Have you come to train?’ He questioned and I knew they were no where close to as good as he is, he would kill them. They had continued training but not very much and Aemond is clearly quite passionate about it. ‘Niece, lovely to see you again…or smell you I should say, and what a lovely scent it is. Hmm?’ I blushed darkly, not moving from behind my brothers until Jace turned and pushed me to walk back the other way.

‘I would stay close if I were you sister, wouldn’t want to be alone with him, would you?’ Luke teased and I wanted desperately to strangle the cocky little bastard but the last time I had hit him I’d given him a black eye and made him cry like a bitch, mother made sure I knew Omegas should never be violent, especially when they’ve been trained by Daemon and could make a man feel emasculated enough to be murderous.

I sighed, rolling my eyes and following them inside, finding my room as quickly as I could and locking the doors. I sat on the windowsill and stared out over Kings Landing, seeing a dip in the clouds and knowing my dragon had followed us, it was a comfort in case I needed an escape and knowing my family, I definitely will.

I stayed in my room until my mother came to get me, walking all of us together down to the throne room where I stayed as close to my father as I could, feeling men’s eyes on me, flinching from one who leaned in to smell me making my father turn and glare down at him, the man moving to the other end of the room quickly. I held onto his belt as Otto Hightower spoke, feeling eyes on me and knowing Aemond was staring as well. That same Alpha scent was back and my stomach felt like it was quivering as the wonderful smell assaulted me. My attention was only drawn when the doors opened to reveal our grandfather looking rough…half dead honestly as he walked into the room, stumbling up to his throne, Daemon helping him as he dropped his crown and leaving me exposed with no one to hide behind until he came back. I watched on, thoroughly entertained as Vaemond shouted about Luke and Jace being bastards, and actually couldn’t contain my snort as Daemon cut off his head though as expected nothing happened to him and Luke keeps his inheritance.

‘Now, if we’re through with this useless event, I think we can-‘

‘Actually my King, if I may?’ Otto asked, approaching the throne and mumbling something to him quietly.

‘Are you sure? Rhaenyra! Why was I unaware of your daughter presenting as an Omega?’ The King asked and my blood ran cold, Daemon pushing me completely behind him.

‘She was not ready for every noble man in the kingdom to be vying for her hand Father, I was protecting my baby. I apologize if you think I’ve hidden it from you but that was never my intention.’ She explained.

‘My girl, this is wonderful! Otto is right, there’s no need for anyone to look for a husband when we have a perfect Targaryen Alpha right here. Honestly I always did believe Aemond and Y/n would end up marrying, they were so sweet when they were babes.’ I backed away from Daemon, moving around the crowd and moving towards the doors the maids use to get to the kitchen quickly. ‘My son, you will take Y/n as your wife, do you have any objections?’ The King asked and I waited a moment, waiting for him to start yelling, or begging to get out of it…but he didn’t.

‘It will be my honor Father. Thank you.’

‘Well then it is settled, there will be a wedding, right here tomorrow night-‘

‘Tomorrow?!’ My mother exclaimed.

‘I’m a sickly, old man Rhaenyra, I would like to witness their union before I pass on. You can afford me that, can you not?’ He questioned and I knew my mother would cave at that as I got to the door, pushing it open quietly.

‘Father, I would like to request one thing. Since it must be such a quick wedding, I would like to do it in the traditional Valyrian custom.’ Aemond asked and I took pause.

When we were children we discussed just this, we talked about how we would be married one day and I told Aemond that I wanted to do it right, in the old customs. Since the day I learned of the traditional wedding I thought it was beautiful and I wanted it more than anything, Aemond promising me the perfect wedding. The idea that he remembered and even cared enough to request such a thing brought tears to my eyes.

‘I don’t see why not, I leave it to my wife and daughter to sort out the details with the bride and groom.’ My mother and the queen? And they want me in the middle of that? Fuck no.

I turned, leaving out the door, quickly running down the corridor and into the kitchens which were busy making dinner, allowing me to run through quickly and out another side door. I just made it to the gardens and down the steps, hiding in the bushes when a guard rushed out after me. ‘Princess! Princess! Your mother demands your presence!’ He shouted, running into the garden while I crept out and down the side of the castle. One good thing about growing up in a castle, you learn how to get around quickly and unseen.

I looked up to the sky, hoping to see my dragon, knowing exactly what he looks like now that I’ve spent so many years by his side and on his back. ‘Come on Ghost! Where are you?’ I questioned, getting down the stairs to the front of the castle, peeking around the corner to see many guards and I quickly moved around the wall and past the gates to the plaines where I knew Vhagar rested by the water. I kept far away from the resting place of the nearly 2 centuries old dragon and whistled, seeing the grayish white color separate from the clouds and dive down towards the ground, landing just ahead of me and just as he nudged his giant head into me in greeting a voice stopped me.

‘Byka Zaldrīzes!’ I froze, knowing only my uncle had ever called me that. He had since we were kids and I was trying to comfort him when he was upset about not having a dragon. My child brain figured, I’m a Targaryen, I can be your dragon and it made him laugh so hard he couldn’t breathe. He called me Little Dragon ever since. ‘Where are you going to go?’ He asked, not yelling…not even seeming angry.

‘Home…’

‘Going home already, and I didn’t get a hello or a goodbye. I admit, I had hoped for a different reaction.’ He stepped closer, Ghost growling but not doing anything more as I shushed him to keep him calm. ‘You used to be excited by the prospect of us being married.’ That wonderful Alpha scent came over me again and I could no longer deny that it was him I was smelling, though deep down I knew it was. ‘You can’t even look at me?’ His voice held more emotion now, upset at the idea I couldn’t face him.

‘Please Aemond, please stop this? You don’t want to be married to me, there’s no point in whatever you’re doing…’ I told him, turning to face him and I couldn’t deny how beautiful he is. I had always found him cute but he had become incredibly handsome the past 9 years.

‘You dare tell me what I want? You?! After all of this time?! I have always wanted you Y/n and I always will, nothing will change that apart from you telling me you no longer love me and that my face is too much for you to accept as your Lord Husband.’ My eyes widened and I took an unintentional step forward.

‘Aemond, you are beautiful, you always have been! No scar changes that, and it could certainly not change the way I feel for you-‘

‘Then why do you run from me? Why have you spent 9 years not answering my letters? Why do you find it so hard to look me in the face? Why-‘

‘Because it’s my fault!’ I shouted, unable to take his questions anymore. ‘Because if I hadn’t encouraged you it wouldn’t have happened, no one would have fought, you wouldn’t have lost your eye! It’s my fault! And Jace and Luke, they tell me all the time and I don’t want to hear how much you hate me! I don’t want to hear you lie and tell me I ignored you, I wrote you every day for months! You never responded and I don’t think I can handle hearing how much you hate me Kepa…I can’t…’ the tears were now streaming down my face like crazy and as I reached to wipe them away he grabbed ahold of my wrists, forcing me to look at him.

‘You think I blame you?’ His voice was so soft it actually startled me. ‘Y/n…first of all I never got letters from you and I’m realizing you didn’t receive mine either which I’m assuming was your brothers but Gods Y/n! I have Never blamed you for that night!’ His face was so serious and hard I knew he wasn’t lying.

‘Never?’

‘Not for one second! You are the only one who gave me any kind of comfort, everyone else was either scared or angry, but you just held me. I loved you so much in that moment I thought my heart would explode! Waking up next to you in the morning, in so much pain, but you were there to make me feel better…then you were gone. My Little Dragon was gone and I couldn’t even speak to her, and now I come to find out you’re carrying guilt that has never been yours to hold! Your brother did that, not you, Luke! He chose to pick up that blade and slice my face, not you! And Vhagar was no one’s to claim, she chose me and I chose her, and yes you helped make me feel better about it but I was going to go to her no matter what you said…please let go of that guilt, my Princess?’ I nodded, sniffling as he let go of my arms and used his thumbs to wipe my eyes before leaning close and pressing his lips to mine. ‘You’re mine Byka Zaldrīzes, all mine!’ He swore, kissing me again, harder this time and pulling me flush against his chest. ‘My Little Dragon is going to be my wife, the mother of my children, my perfect little Omega…Fuck you smell amazing!’ He groaned, digging his face into my neck and inhaling deeply.

‘That’s enough!’ A deep voice shouted and Aemond jumped but I knew exactly who it was.

‘Father, you ruin everything.’ I teased and he just smiled as he got closer, Ghost rumbling in irritation at how many people are here now, seemingly willing to deal with my Alpha and that is all. ‘Did you take my letters?’ I asked and he instantly looked confused.

‘What?’

‘The letters I wrote Aemond, and the letters he wrote me, we never got them. Was it you? I am asking you despite the fact that you’re the least likely…I’m going to kill Jace…and Luke.’ I told him and he seemed irritated.

‘If they really did that, then they will be punished, I assure you. However right now, we need to get you back inside and help your mother plan a wedding.’ I hesitated but nodded my head, moving to follow Daemon and he turned to walk away as well just as I pulled away from Aemond and climbed onto Ghost.

‘Y/n, what are you doing?’ He laughed.

‘You think I’m going to mediate our mothers? Not gonna happen, by this time tomorrow we’ll be married or they’ll be dead, but I won’t be in the middle. Bye father!’ I shouted, hearing Ghost rumble. ‘Sovēs!’ I commanded before he leapt into the air and began climbing towards the clouds. ‘You saved my life, you know that?’ He screeched and I snorted. ‘Not really I suppose, but it wouldn’t have been fun…at all.’ We stayed like that, flying contently over the clouds for several minutes before Ghost seemed agitated and I turned to see the shadow of a large dragon above us causing me to push Ghost down before seeing Vhagar behind us, Aemond laughing while Ghost complained. ‘Not Funny Kepa!’ I shouted, diving after him as he turned to land on a nearby island.

‘I like it when you call me that, Princess.’ He told me as we both got our feet back on the ground.

‘Really? I would have thought you would hate it. My father does, it makes him feel Old when my mother uses it.’ I laughed and he just snorted, laying out his jacket for me to sit on so I could be comfortable.

‘He is nearly 20 years older than your mother, of course he hates it. When you say it, it just excites me.’

‘Hmm, well then I will refrain. Wouldn’t want to excite you too much, would we?’ I leaned into his side and he wrapped his arms around me, Vhagar laying down behind us and Ghost wanting to lay his head on my lap but I wouldn’t let him with Aemond here too.

‘I knew you would be a perfect little Omega, I just knew it. So perfect Y/n, and all mine.’ Aemond’s nose trailed through my hair and I loved the feeling.

‘Not yet Kepa, you need to wait to say that until we’re married-‘

‘Are you going to tell me that you belong to someone else, Omega? Because I will remove their organs.’ He threatened. ‘I’m already keeping myself from killing your brothers so save yourself more problems. If any man has dared put their hands on you-‘

‘Aemond!’ I exclaimed, laughing as he went on his tirade. ‘No one has touched me! Jace tried once when I went into heat the first time but I smacked him so hard his ears rang for a week. I love the possessive attitude but no one has touched me.’ I teased him, giggling as he trailed his nose over my scent gland, groaning.

‘Good, because I would’ve killed them. I told you before, you’re all mine Byka Zaldrīzes, Alphas pretty little Omega.’ His lips wrapped around my scent gland, sucking on my neck and making me cry out. ‘Oh, such sweet little sounds you make for me, my good girl.’ He teased, pushing me onto my back and laying over top of me, arm circling my waist. ‘I’ve waited so long to have you under me like this, to have to wait one more day is torture.’

‘You will survive Kepa, no one will keep us apart again…I am yours, and you are mine. Forever.’ I trailed my fingers up his jaw to his cheek and removed his eyepatch, dropping it to the ground and taking his face into my hands, his eyes closing as I held him.

‘Should they try, I will set this whole world on fire my love. No one will dare take you from me again.’ His voice was firm and fiery, every bit the Dragon that he was always meant to be.

As he leant down, I turned my head and let his lips touch my cheek. ‘We’re not yet married Aemond.’

‘Surely you can afford me a kiss, we will be married by this time tomorrow, don’t make me wait to kiss you one moment longer.’ I had to giggle at the way he made it seem like a life or death situation. ‘I had your first when we were only 8, I would have your last before you’re married.’ His fingers trailed over my cheek as I blushed a dark red before I leaned closer and felt his lips on mine. They were soft and warm as he held me close. I touched my fingers softly to the scar under his eye, hating that he had had to suffer so much pain and I couldn’t even be there for him, or even write to him. ‘I am sorry this is the face you must look at for the rest of our marriage, I-‘

I glared up at him and flicked his nose hard before he could finish speaking. ‘You will not speak ill of the man I love that way! Do you hear me? I care very little about a scar, I’m just sorry that I could not stop it.’

‘Little Dragon-‘

‘All this scar shows me is how strong and tough my husband is. It tells me that I will be safe in his arms and bed, and that our children will never know the feeling of danger…I love you Aemond.’ I could see the unshed tears in his eye that I knew he would never let fall and I pressed my lips to his again.

‘I love you Y/n. You are mine, and I am yours. ‘

For everyone who asked me for more Aemond content as well as those who asked for more Alpha/Omega fics.

I hope you liked it, cause I loved writing it!

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

#house of the dragon aemond #house of targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd dragons #hotd season 1 #hotd aemond #hotd smut #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #aemond oneshot #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #prince aemond #aemond x oc #aemond smut #aemond x niece!reader #aemond x targaryen! reader #ewan mitchell #a/b/o fic #a/b/o dynamics #alpha omega #alpha beta omega

[stainedglassthreads]

I feel like the four leads of Deltarune--Kris, Susie, Ralsei, and Noelle-are just. Somehow two different levels of queer-coded.

(Edit: Just to be clear: not saying any of this to disparage or insult shippers of Kralsei, Suselle, or Kriselle, I've just seen a lot of cool analysis about tropes, romance, and lack of choice in Deltarune and wanted to chime in with some of my own thoughts. If you ship any of those ships in Deltarune--fantastic! May you find a lot of content precisely to your taste.)

Like. On the one hand, if you're looking at tropes, they are very neatly set up into two romantic partnerships. Noelle is very blatantly interested in Susie, and Ralsei's feelings for Kris are often portrayed similarly. On a surface level, both pairings appear very clear. Noelle is a girl in love with another girl, while Ralsei is a very effeminate boy in love with a teen who doesn't appear to use pronouns. And a big deal isn't made of either pairing, there's nothing really in the way of Suselle or Kralsei on a societal level we've encountered so far. At least in terms of gender and sexuality. But if you look a little closer, it's kind of...'these are a very straight idea of queer ships', y'know?

Noelle and Susie are both girls, but one is very effeminately coded, anxious, uses magic, and is more traditionally cute, while they other is crass, crude, intimidating, and physically strong. Ralsei and Kris are gender-noncomforming, but Ralsei is a sweet pacifistic healer who bakes cakes while Kris uses a sword, and keeps being mistaken for a boy by much of Youtube and Reddit. The active one and the passive one, the fighter and the mage, the one with cute hobbies and the one who eats moss, the one in pants and the one in a dress.

And here, I start thinking of some posts I've seen analyzing how, in Deltarune, romance is used to explore how Kris doesn't really get choices. Kris has been cast as the leader and knight, and Ralsei has been cast as the healer and Princess, even if he is a boy. The leader often ends up with the healer. The knight often gets the princess as a happy ending. But Kris doesn't seem to like this! Their reactions to Ralsei are constantly lukewarm at best, and that's not getting into how Ralsei seems to be in love with his idea of Kris, while being very. Asriel-coded, who the game describes often as Kris' brother, in sharp contrast to how ambiguous Chara and Frisk's relationships with the Dreemurrs were.

If we and Kris reject Ralsei as a love interest, we can a different romantic partner in Noelle...but this choice has a bodycount, traumatizes Noelle, doesn't seem to leave Kris any happier, and it's still a kind of straight-coded ship. Now it's the knight being paired up with the apocalypse maiden, for the doomed codepedent toxic tragedy lovers out there. But it kinda makes sense too, right? If Kralsei is the expected RPG romance, then Kriselle would be the expected romance if there were no Dark World and Ralsei weren't an option. They're childhood friends and neighbors in a small town, their families used to be very close, Rudy is still very fond of Kris. They're even extremely angel/devil coded.

But the most interesting part is. It's implied that there IS someone that Kris is very interested in, either platonically or romantically. It's Susie. Kris never seems frightened by Susie when they're bullied by her, and rejects Noelle's offers to switch seats. They seek comfort from Susie rather than Ralsei after the Spamton fight, they call her their friend when Toriel calls, they share moss with her, they refuse to think about her during Snowgrave when Ralsei prompts them, they make it clear that out of all the people they COULD go to the Carnival with, Susie is the one they'd ACTUALLY want to choose.

And this is the part that drives me crazy. Because while Kris is so tightly controlled by genre and narrative, and those things would usually push them towards Ralsei or Noelle, and Ralsei keeps encouraging Kris to stick to the narrative. Susie is the one who refuses to be bound to the narrative. Susie is the character of Deltarune who is most unapologetically herself--and isn't that a very queer thing, refusing to be anyone but yourself despite everything? She says no thanks to the prophecy, until she comes around to it on her own terms! She makes herself and Ralsei learn to take their own actions, and drags Ralsei off to have fun with him instead of letting Kris choose who to with! She doesn't stay in her box of the damage-dealing fighter, she insists on learning Healing magic, even if she's not particularly skilled at it at first! Even Ralsei is forced to admit that it's wonderful that Susie is Susie, and not anyone else!

I think Kris likes Susie a lot. And part of it may be admiration. That while Kris is controlled by the player and the narrative and the prophecy and humanity and divorce and a dozen things outside their control, Susie refuses to ever be bound by anything. And Kris and Susie together happen to be the two more masculinely-coded party members, the two melee fighters, the two troublemakers. It honestly makes me wonder a little if Susie and Kris might be able to make their own ending beyond the bounds of gender expectations and romance expectations together? It would be cool. And I think it would make Kris very happy to break free like that.

#deltarune #deltarune meta #deltarune analysis #deltarune theory #kris dreemurr #susie #noelle holiday #ralsei #kralsei #kriselle #krusie

[aphroditeinthesea]

heyyyy could you write jason x daughter of Poseidon. where the reader gets taken with percy to camp jupiter and when the argo two arrives jason and the reader slowly become flirty friends. but at a very unfortunate time they flirting turns too real.

“ sparks fly ”

jason grace x daughter of poseidon ⚡️

i really don’t like how this turned out but i hope it’s okay that this is half hcs, half one shot-ish and tbh i didn’t wanna post this but also didn’t wanna like ignore this request

⋆ ˚｡ 𓆟 🌊 𓆞 ˚｡ ⋆

- y/n was holding onto her brother’s arm as she tried to get through the crowd of people

- “is that…?”

- but her brother didn’t hear as his green eyes locked with grey ones

- but she heard reyna speak and her attention turned to someone else

- “jason grace, my former colleague”

- when she looked forward, she saw the most beautiful boy she had ever laid eyes on

- although she was soon distracted by her brother leaving her grasp

- she let go of his arm and let him run to his girlfriend

- as everyone watched the scene unfold, she turned to look back at the son of jupiter

- only to find blue eyes meeting hers

- she quickly looked away but couldn’t hide the pink on her cheeks

- when she got to know him, the way she felt only grew

- she found herself doing everything in her power to talk to him

- sitting next to him at meals or even acting like she needed help with something she could completely do herself

- “hey, jason, can you grab that for me?” she would ask, pointing to a high shelf

- “yeah of course,” he would always respond

- but she would watch as his shirt would slightly show his abs as he leaned up

- and percy would be standing behind her like🧍‍♂️

- but when a monster attacked the ship and was 2 seconds away from killing jason???

- y/n was there in a second, slicing that monster

- and jason was like “that was amazing for someone who can’t open a jar of pickles”

- and she was like “i know right”

- or when she came into his room late at night after having a nightmare

- “is it okay if i stay with you?” she whispered into the darkness

- “of course,” he was already awake so he scooted over to make room for her

- she quickly took the spot next to him and let herself burrow next to him

- “why didn’t you ask your brother?”

- she couldn’t think of an answer

- after all, there was her brother or annabeth, who she had known for far longer than the boy she laid next to

- she just sighed and finally spoke again

- “i knew you’d be awake”

- that wasn’t the last time she did that either

- every nightmare she had, she would find her way to his room where he welcomed her with open arms

- but when percy and annabeth fell into tartarus, the nightmares only worsened

- night after night, she would wake up in a sweat

- she got too embarrassed to keep bothering jason, which he took notice to

- one night he found her sitting in the mess hall, staring off into space

- “y/n?”

- she looked up at him and tried to force a smile

- “are you okay?”

- “why wouldn’t i be?”

- he took the seat next to her, “can’t sleep?”

- she shook her head, “i just know i’ll be waking up soon enough from a nightmare, so why even try?”

- he worriedly looked at her, but she wouldn’t even face him

- “you need to sleep, y/n,” he whispered

- she stayed silent

- “you can stay in my room, i really don’t mind”

- still silence

- “y/n?”

- “i don’t have a crush on you,” she suddenly spoke and looked up at him

- his eye widened, “what?”

- “i thought i had a crush on you, but i don’t, jase”

- he felt his heart heavy as he still stared at her

- “jason, i am so in love with you”

- he completely froze, his brain basically short circuiting

- kind of literally too as his hands slightly sparked when she spoke

- “i’m sorry, i had to tell you. there’s just so much going on right now, and trying to hide that was just one more thing i had to stress about”

- “no, y/n, it’s okay”

- “really?”

- “really.”

- she looked away, “i should get to bed anyways”

- she began walking away but he followed behind her, “wait”

- she turned around, waiting for the embarrassment to hit her

- but instead only a pair of lips did

- “i love you, too.”

- she didn’t say anything as she pulled him into another kiss

#jason grace x reader #jason grace #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #daughter of poseidon #daughter of neptune #jason grace x daughter of poseidon

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Round 1

Propaganda Under Cut

Joan Watson

How were BBC Sherlock shippers so rancid about a WOMAN who wasnt even in the SAME SHOW?????

Lucy Liu real life victim of yaoi despite being on a DIFFERENT TV SHOW. And everyone was so busy hating her for getting in the way of johnlocke that they ignored the massive yuri potential of Elementary :(

she wasn't even in the same SHOW as the yaoi I've been convinced she deserves to win the entire poll. I was a Johnlocker but I did watch the first season of Elementary and it was fine????? It was totally okay????? Especially in hindsight given how hard Sherlock season four flopped. Also Lucy Liu is a queen and deserved zero vitriol for *checks notes* playing a character???? A fucking fictional character???????? Oh my god we were all SO mean to this show and we (or at least I) thought it was like The Good Fight™️, like we were defending BBC Sherlock against copyright infringement and straightwashing and Jonny Lee Miller's bizarre scarf, (it wasn't a good scarf I do stand by that) but then Elementary didn't make Holmes and Watson a couple either???? And also it didn't insult its audience constantly etc etc we've all seen the Hbomberguy Sherlock is Garbage video. This is really long sorry hashtag justice for Joan Watson.

Mipha

Honestly she's not just a victim of yaoi, tbh. Basically: she canonically had a massive crush on the protagonist, Link, which consistently gets swept under the rug or ignored entirely in favor of shipping Link with her brother Sidon, their fellow champion Revali, or Zelda herself. She deserves nice things and so many people just... completely overlook her??

She has a crush on Link, but so does her younger brother Sidon, who is much more affable and outgoing. Link/Sidon is the more popular ship. Mipha gets a lot of flak for being a weak female character who's only defined by her romantic relationship to the protagonist. That's not really fair; she has her own storyline about being the golden girl from her town who everyone looks up to, and the hole that's left in the town after her death. It is unfortunate that she is better remembered as the less compelling corner of a love triangle.

The princess of the Zora, sweetheart of the Zora's Domain. Champion pilot of the Divine Beast Vah Ruta. Master healer, cut down in her prime by an ancient evil. But you wouldn't know it, because she's reduced to someone who was in love with Link (the game's protagonist), and therefore has to be sidelined and villainized to ship Link with her younger brother Sidon or her fellow Champion Revali.

#poll #round 1 #joan watson #elementary #cbs elementary #mipha #botw mipha #botw #legend of zelda

[stllmnstr]

easy mode — a lee heeseung drabble

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: brother’s best friend au

word count: 2.5k

warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, jealousy, (brief, non descriptive) vomit mention, veeeeery suggestive (but no explicit content/smut), sorry feminism I let heeseung win this round

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Lee Heeseung likes to do things the easy way. 

It’s not that he’s lazy, just... efficient. A fan of the path of least resistance. He knows how to pick his battles and does so sparingly. 

Heeseung minds his own business, keeps his eyes on the path in front of him and rarely lets them stray. And he definitely, definitely never pokes his nose into other people’s problems. 

It’s a philosophy that keeps his head on straight, that allows his friendships to remain low-maintenance and sans drama. It’s what’s kept Jay at his side for the last fifteen years, even through the trials and tribulations of elementary school playground altercations, puberty-fueled fights in the middle school locker room, and most recently, the frustrating misalignment of their post-graduation work schedules. 

Four years ago, Heeseung thought a bachelor’s degree would be his ticket to success, not a soul-sucking nine-to-five that leaves him itching for a drink or three most Friday nights. Luckily for him, Jay’s in the same boat. 

But tonight, sitting next to his best friend on his favorite slightly wobbly bar stool, Heeseung almost misses the monotony of their usual Friday evening happy hours. 

He’s nursing his third beer, which would usually go down like cold water, even though time and tipsiness have turned it lukewarm. Tonight, though, Heeseung’s eyes keep wandering towards the same corner table just over Jay’s shoulder. 

And every time they do, the muscle in his jaw strains a little further. The beer on his tongue tastes a little more bitter. 

Heeseung hates making things complicated. He doesn’t get involved. He doesn’t. But–

“Are you gonna do something about that?”

On the adjacent bar stool, Jay glances at Heeseung. “About what?” 

Heeseung just keeps his eyes trained on that table, that spot over Jay’s shoulder. 

Picking up on the hint even through the pleasant haze in his mind, Jay turns his gaze to follow Heeseung’s nonverbal cue. It takes him only a matter of seconds to locate what has his best friend in such a mood. Or rather, who. Although Jay isn’t quite sure why. 

He’s digging for clarification when he looks back at his friend. “What do you mean? Did she do something weird?” It wouldn’t be exactly unlike his younger sister to do something slightly embarrassing in public. 

Heeseung’s jaw just tightens further, betraying his annoyance. Finally, he puts words to his irritation, saves Jay from his suspense. “You’re gonna let that idiot put his hands all over your little sister in the middle of the bar?”

Jay frowns, turns over his shoulder once again to make sure he isn’t seeing things. He’s not. From this angle, at least, Sunghoon’s hands are at a perfectly respectable distance from you. Not that Jay could do much about it either way. 

He tells Heeseung as much. “What am I supposed to do? Drag her out by her ear and force her to join a convent? Ship her off to a girls only boarding school?” Jay laughs humorlessly. He’s not exactly thrilled that you and your friends chose to patronize the same bar as him and Heeseung tonight, but he doesn’t want to linger on it either. In fact, he doesn’t want to do anything but forget his woes this evening, drown his sorrows in overpriced pints of whatever’s on tap. He’s perfectly happy with his back turned towards you. Out of sigh, out of mind and all that. “She’s twenty-two.”

And that wasn’t what Heeseung was suggesting exactly, but now that Jay mentions it…

“You’re okay with Park trying to play tonsil tennis with her then?”

“Dude,” Jay winces, setting his beer down on the bar, stomach suddenly queasy. “Gross. That’s still my little sister.”

Which is exactly the card Heeseung is hoping he’ll play. But all Jay does is sigh. If Heeseung didn’t know better, he’d think the exasperation was directed at him instead of the loser he’s pretty sure is currently trying to make himself Jay’s future brother-in-law. 

Jay checks over his shoulder one final time for good measure. It confirms whatever he’s looking for. Mostly the fact that Park Sunghoon’s lips are too busy cracking mediocre jokes to be making sloppy passes at his sister in public. 

Hoping to put it to rest once and for all, at least for tonight, he turns back to Heeseung. “Besides, it’s Sunghoon,” Jay reasons. He finds it in himself to reach for his beer again. “She’s known him since preschool. He’s practically like a second brother to her.” Jay takes a sip, misreading the rise in Heeseung’s agitation as familial affection. Trying to soothe it over, he concedes with a nod, “Or third, I guess. I’ll let you be her second.”

Like always, Heeseung lets it go. Goes with the flow, at least on the outside. 

But even if he weren’t so committed to never rocking the boat, this is hardly the time or place to correct Jay’s assumptions that his feelings towards you are anything but brotherly. That, he decides, will have to be a revelation for another time. Preferably in a situation where Heeseung is well out of arm’s reach and Jay is in restraints of some sort. 

Those, after all, are the only circumstances in which he could ever disclose just how decidedly not brotherly his feelings towards you are. 

In fact, they’re a lot more aligned with that stupid game you used to make him play as kids. The one where you put on the white dress you’d gotten from your cousin as a hand-me-down, an assortment of grape juice, finger paint, and pasta sauce stains scattered along the hemline. The one where you’d gather a bunch of dandelions from your overgrown backyard and call them a beautiful bouquet. The one where you’d live out all your grandest six-year-old dreams of walking down the aisle towards a handsome prince with the latest Kidz Bop rendition of whatever love song was most popular on the radio setting the mood in the back. 

The one where you’d drag Heeseung away from the player number two console, much to Jay’s unending annoyance, and force him to play the part of your groom. Even at six, you were a force to be reckoned with. An argument-winning fiend that even your older brother could rarely best in a fight. 

Heeseung played along, more than anything, because he was scared to face your wrath if he declined. But he’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t feel a little funny in his chest every time he watched you walk down a makeshift aisle made with your mother’s missing tablecloth. 

And Heeseung doesn’t give a shit how long you’ve known Sunghoon. After all, what does Sunghoon know about your childhood dream to get married in a garden full of roses? Judging from the way it looks like he keeps trying to get you to try his drink, he doesn't even know you can’t stand the taste of Coke mixed with liquor. 

But Heeseung knows. He was there the night you developed the aversion. The night you decided bottom shelf tequila and the soda you snuck from your parent’s fridge were your best friends for the evening after junior prom. The night he held your hair as it came back up a few hours later. 

And he was there for the rest of it, too. All the little moments, the big moments, and everything in between that spun the tapestry of your formative years. The day you finally got your braces off and didn’t stop smiling for three weeks straight. The time you sprained your ankle trying to hide Jay’s favorite pair of sneakers in the alarmingly tall tree in your backyard. The night you cried for four hours straight when you found out Jake Sim from biology was a big, fat, liar that was indeed texting other girls for homework answers. 

There may have been moments, tangled up in that swirling mix of memories, when Heeseung felt nothing but a brotherly sort of affection for you. A desire to protect you from the world and a distinct sort of pride when he inevitably failed and you rose to the challenge anyway. 

But Heeseung also remembers what it felt like to stand across from you as you recited your six-year-old brain’s attempt at recreating marriage vows, and he thinks he never really stood a chance. 

Glancing over Jay’s shoulder again, Heeseung watches as you lean a little further into Sunghoon, straining to hear him over the cacophony in the bar. And the anger he feels in his gut is not brotherly in the slightest. Nor is the red, hot, scalding jealousy that burns his throat every time he forces himself to swallow it down. 

Searching for a distraction, he busies himself with his beer once again, lets Jay’s unwanted evaluations fall to the wayside for the time being. Immersed in the dregs of his own despair, he almost misses it. The flash of movement as you slide out from your seat next to Sunghoon. 

Heeseung mumbles some excuse about needing to go to the bathroom that Jay only partially hears before he’s stepping off of his bar stool, beer forgotten on the counter behind him. 

Your footsteps are easy to follow as he traces the predictable path you forge to the opposite corner of the bar. Heeseung’s bathroom excuse was a good one, he’s pleased to discover, once he realizes that’s precisely where he’ll be meeting you. 

The line is long, but it moves quickly. Only a handful of minutes have passed when you emerge again. This time, Heeseung doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t give you the chance to walk back and make him watch you from a distance for the rest of the evening. 

Instead, he wraps the skin of your wrist in long, precise fingers, drags you to the adjacent hallway where it’s empty, quiet. Secluded. Away from any wandering eyes or unwanted ears. 

Any protests of yours are overtaken by surprise, and by the time you finally find them again, they’re replaced by questions. 

Heeseung may be a captain of a steady ship, a firm believer in the merits of smooth sailing, but he’s never been able to resist the urge of liminal spaces like these. Moments with enough plausible deniability that Jay won’t have a reason to give him a bloody nose or threaten his life if he so much as looks at his little sister again. Exchanges that he hopes will linger with you long after the two of you have parted ways. 

Desire for ambiguity aside, the position he puts you in is compromising no matter how you spin it. Your back against the wall, and Heeseung leans over you, cages you in like he’s after something other than your answers, something more. But the gap between your bodies is deliberate, a way for him to backtrack if the situation calls for it, an out if he needs it. 

Your wrist is still in his grip, light but demanding, when he finally says, “Park Sunghoon? Really?”

“What?” You hope you can blame the obvious breathlessness in your voice on shock. “What are you–?”

Heeseung won’t leave you wondering for long. “You think he can handle you?” With the way you’re wrapped up in Heeseung’s hold, the challenge, the comparison is apparent. 

Your shock morphs. Hardens. “Handle me? Am I a wild animal? I don’t need to be han–”

And, oh, this is Heeseung’s favorite kind of tightrope. His very best balancing act. He loves it, thrives on it, revels in it. This exchange of heated words that never go anyway but to your head. He hopes you’re seeing fucking stars. 

Heeseung leans an inch closer. He’s breaching dangerous territory. He’ll blame it on the alcohol if he has to. Glancing at your eyes, holding your gaze, he doesn’t think he will. 

“Who said anything about you needing it?” He’s so close you feel his breath on your cheekbone, ghosting across your temple. “I’m talking about what you want.”

Something unreadable flickers through your gaze before you’re masking it with contempt. As if Heeseung is nothing but a pest, a fly to swat at until it stops buzzing. “Awful presumptuous, don’t you think?”

Heeseung only grins. “I don’t know.” He leans in closer. “There are a few ways we could find out, though.”

If your breath stutters, you’ll disguise it as a scoff. “Pray tell.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Heeseung inclines his head in a mockery of an apology. For a moment, he lets his eyes do what they want. You feel the heat they track in their path from your nose to your chin back up to your molten gaze. “I’d rather show you, and I don’t think I can do any of the things I want in public.”

You hate the way he does this. The way he never says what he means. The way he skirts around things with such heavy footsteps but still leaves you feeling foolish for drawing obvious conclusions. The way your heartbeat stutters regardless. But tonight, you’ll hold firm. If he wants anything from you, he’ll have to spell it out. “What are you saying?”

Heeseung is as evasive as always. “I’m saying that Sunghoon’s too nice for you.” There’s a hard edge in his eyes when he adds, “You’ll eat him alive and still be begging for more.”

Fine. If he wants to play games, then you’ll roll the dice too. Make scathing comments and heated taunts with whatever numbers you land on. This time, it’s you that leans in. “Should I make sure to find you, then? When I’m all done with him?”

You can’t tell if he’s furious or the most delighted you’ve ever seen him. “Careful,” Heeseung breathes. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing at.”

“I’m not playing at anything.” It’s a blatant lie, but you’ve become well acquainted with denial, too. Picked up a few tricks from the ringleader himself. “You’re the one that dragged me here and started demanding that I ditch my friend.”

Heeseung smiles as if you serve no purpose but to amuse him. “You let all your friends look at you like that?”

“Only the ones I really like.”

But now you’re under his skin. “Careful,” he repeats, even lower this time. “I’m not as nice as him.”

You won’t heed any warnings, and especially not ones given from him. He’s all talk. All bark and no bite. You almost wish he would bare teeth, just once. “What are you gonna do?” Unblinking, you hold his gaze. “Handle me?”

A blurred line dissolves completely. Heeseung’s resolve slips, just a fraction. “Is that an invitation?”

“A challenge,” you correct, sliding out of his grasp, maneuvering away from his hold. This time, he has no choice but to turn as you begin to back away, to let his eyes follow your lead. 

After his misstep, the results of this game are under your sole control. You have choices, ones that leave him in the dust and ones that put a trophy in his wandering hands. In the end, you discard it all. You have only one final demand for him. It’s a whisper that’s barely audible, “Rise to it.”

Heeseung doesn’t need to hear it twice.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

note: I was having serious heeseung brother's best friend brainrot on my friday evening and decided to make it everyone's problem. (you're welcome/I'm sorry). and thanks for reading! thoughts, comments, tags, reblogs, and screaming are appreciated as always <3

#enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen scenarios #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung x you #heeseung x you #heeseung x reader #heeseung fic #heeseung fanfic #heeseung drabble

[mortiferumsomnum]

A Blanket Full of Stars

EDIT: MASTERLIST

Jason was 6 years old when Danny was born, and he remembered that Danny looked like a wrinkly monkey wrapped in Jason’s softest blanket that he could find in his closet. The blanket had all these stars and planets, and tiny little rocket ships that look like they’re about to crash into the moon. 

Jason giggled, because his baby brother looked like a monkey in space. 

Jason loves him. 

That day of his birth, when Jason held the little baby in his arms, he promised to be the best big brother ever. He’ll make sure that no one bullies his brother for looking like a tiny monkey, and beat up anyone that even tries to beat up his brother. He’ll read all the books the old ladies from the diner gave him, and turn on the radio when Danny wants to listen to music because Jason sure as hell can’t sing.

But his mom said they couldn’t keep him. They couldn’t afford to keep him.

Jason was heartbroken.

So, some social workers went looking for a family to take Danny in.

The day the new family came to pick up Danny, Jason held Danny the whole morning, not letting go of his baby brother who was sleeping so peacefully.

Danny had also gotten attached to Jason. He’d stop crying when Jason holds him, rocks him, carries him. He’d make little ‘num-num’ sounds when Jason feeds him. And when Jason talks to him, he’d reply with a ‘bwah!’ and an ‘awuwuwu!!’ 

Danny can’t lift anything yet, but he’d hold on to Jason’s finger. Danny can’t roll over yet, but he’d lay his chubby cheek on Jason’s shoulder. Danny can’t talk yet, but Jason just knows when Danny calls for him.

So, when the new family comes into the house with the social worker, Jason couldn’t hold back the tears. No, he couldn’t let go of Danny. 

Danny was still a month old! What if he gets sick in the car ride! What if the parents forget Danny because he’s so small? Danny might not look like a monkey anymore, but what if the parents leave him alone anyways? How can he trust these people to take care of Danny?

Oh, they have a daughter??

It doesn’t matter!! She is a 2 years old girl that’s crying when she saw Jason crying. She can’t take care of Danny! She can’t feed Danny, or bathe him!! Her tiny arms can’t carry him either!

Danny can’t go with them!

But his mom was crying with him. “I’m sorry,” she said, hugging him when the two parents took Danny. Jason’s head was hugged close to her chest, but Jason had a clear view of his baby brother. His baby brother that was making distressed sounds while being held by unfamiliar people. “I’m sorry, but Danny won’t be able to live a good life here, baby. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

Jason hated this. Jason could take care of Danny, he promises! He can! He won’t even let his good-for-nothing dad touch him like the month Danny was with them!

But, when the baby girl, Jazz, was lifted by the giant man, Danny stopped making such sad sounds. Then, Jason watched as Jazz lifted her hand. And he was ready to run in and stop her from slapping his brother, but he stopped. He stopped because she patted Danny’s cheek so gently.

And Danny... Danny cooed the same way he would at Jason. Danny held the little toddler’s finger and babbled loudly, like he would when he’s being held by Jason.

Jason hated it. He hated the little baby girl. Danny was going to a better family, going to be taken care by a girl he’ll call his sister. And Jason will be forgotten! Danny won’t ever remember Jason anymore!

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair!

Jason ran to his and Danny’s room. Well, his room now. All of Danny’s things had been packed.

Then, Jason saw the blanket. The blanket that made Danny look like a little monkey in space. It’s the softest blanket Jason has. And Jason doubts that the new family would have a blanket full of stars like his does.

“Jason! They’re about to leave!”

He picks up the blanket, folds it, and runs downstairs. Danny was all buckled up in the car seat the new family purchased just for him. He was sucking on a binky that the new family bought too. 

The new family saw the blanket Jason was holding. 

“It’s... It’s for Danny,” he told them.

His mom pursed his lips. “It’s not washed,” she said.

But Jazz made grabby hands towards the blanket. “Ish Danny’sh!!” she said, still reaching for it.

The woman, who was going to Danny’s new mother, smiled kindly and took the blanket. She unfolded the blanket, and laid it over Danny, who cooed loudly the moment he held the softest blanket Jason owned.

It wasn’t a spaceship, but Jason felt like Danny was being flown to a whole other planet. It sucked, and it hurt, and Jason was going to miss his monkey baby brother.

He looked into Danny’s car seat and patted Danny’s tummy. Danny held his finger and latched on to it. “Awu!”

Jason sniffed. “I’ll miss you, Danny,” he said. Then, he brought Danny’s tiny hand up to his lips and kissed it. “I’m going to miss you so, so much.”

Jason felt his mom’s hand on his back. “It’s time for them to go, Jason,” she said softly.

Jason huffed. Then, he looked towards Jazz, and gave her a firm look. “Take care of him, okay?” he said, to which Jazz blinked. “Even when adults think they’re taking care of their kids, take care of Danny, okay? He’s small, and he looks like a monkey.”

Jazz looked to Danny, as if to confirm he’s a monkey. She pouted at him. “No mo’key!”

Jason huffed, grinning. “Good, now I know you’ll take care of him...”

He stepped out of the car and stood beside his mom. When the adults were done talking, the new parents stepped into their car. And then, the car started.

His mom was waving. She was crying, but she was waving.

“Say goodbye, Jason,” she said.

He couldn’t do such a thing. He couldn’t lift his hand. And he couldn’t bring himself to talk.

Finally, the car started moving.

Jason couldn’t help it. The car was already a block away, but... but...

He ran. He ran after the car ignoring his mother’s yell for him.

“DANNY!!!” he cried, gasping and sobbing. He wanted his brother back. He wanted him BACK.

“DANNY!!!!!!”

The car turned. There was a traffic light that turned green. There was a truck.

“JASON!!!” he heard his mom cry.

But Jason... Jason was flying.

He looked up to see Robin holding him, gently landing in front of his mom, who ran up to Jason and hugged him tightly. “Oh, my baby...” she cried.

Jason... he... Jason cried, hugging his mom just as tight.

He couldn’t hear his mom thanking Robin, nor hear Robin ask if everything was okay. He didn’t feel his body being lifted and carried into their horrible apartment that smelled like beer. He didn’t feel himself being laid onto his bed. Jason scooted on instinct, but there was no tiny body that was going to be laid with him.

Instead, his mom told him to scoot near the wall, where Danny would have been. Jason would be the body that blocks Danny from falling. 

His chin trembled, but he scooted near the wall anyways. And his mom laid beside him, petting his hair and hugging him close to her.

“I miss him,” said Jason.

“I know, baby,” she said, kissing his forehead. “I’m sorry...”

Jason shook his head. “He’ll be safe with them?” he asked.

“Yes,” his mom said. “Safer and will grow up healthier. He’ll be loved and cared for. He’ll have a normal life, one that’s better than Gotham.”

Jason chose to believe her. He had to.

*******

Okay, so, I cried while writing this whole thing. And, I just--- Oh my godddd....

So, headcanons and notes for this AU!!

- As you’ve read, it’s a Jason and Danny as Bio-Brothers!! Jason is 6 years old uwu, and Danny was just born! Danny stayed with them for a whole month while the social worker was looking for potential families to adopt Danny. They came across the Fentons, who were more than willing to take in a child that came from one of the poorest of families in Gotham. They drove all the way to pick Danny up themselves.

- It takes Jason 3 whole months to get over Danny. He noticed his mom and his dad fighting more and more every day, until one day his mom was... weird. IT was the start of his mom’s drug addiction. This is also when Jason finds out that she’s not his actual mom, but she still loves him. She loves him so much, but she was also tired.

- Cue major events, like Catherine Todd dying over overdose, Jason meeting Batman, Jason in the middle of Dick and Bruce’s argument. What’s different here is that Jason ends up being a little bit closer to Dick, because Dick remembers saving Jason when he was smol. Dick visits the manor more often, only to spend time with Jason and nothing more (maybe for Alfred’s cookies too). Jason dies, Superboy-prime alters reality and Jason gets revived, Talia finds him, dumps him into the Lazarus Pits, blah blah blah, the rest is history.

- In Danny’s corner, who is now 15 years old, for a show-and-tell, Mr. Lancer prompts the students to bring something from their baby days that isn’t a binky or a baby bottle, and to tell the class about it in the most creative way they could.

- Danny tells Jazz about it, and Jazz remembers about the box in her closet full of Danny’s things of when he was a baby that she didn’t want her parents destroying. She brings it out and shows it to Danny, and he finds the blanket. 

- “Heh. Looks like even when I was a baby, I was into space.”

- Jazz had a strained smile on her face. “Yeah. Mom and Dad said that it took you 3 whole years to let go of that blanket,” she said. But her smile was still strained.

- Danny furrows his brow at her and asks, “What? What’s wrong?”

- Jazz sits Danny down. Her parents were going to tell him... someday... when they weren’t busy with their ‘job’. So, Jazz decides to just do it now.

- Danny finds out that he was adopted. Jazz tells him that her earliest memory was this older kid giving Danny the blanket, and calling Danny a monkey. “You held his finger and he kissed your hand, saying he’ll miss you. I think he was your older brother.”

- “I don’t understand,” said Danny. “Didn’t they want me?”

- Jazz nodded. “I asked Mom and Dad about it... your real family... they weren’t doing well. They were struggling financially. They said that the social worker suspected your real dad abusing your mom... I don’t know about your brother...”

- Jazz hugged Danny, who was crying. “They loved you so much, Danny,” she whispered. “So, so much.”

- Danny washed the blanket. After a wash, the blanket ended up becoming the softest thing in Danny’s room. He slept with the blanket, feeling a bit closer with his brother. Definitely his brother. It just felt right. And Danny knew than to ignore his intuition that was getting a bit too accurate now that he was half-ghost.

- Danny then asked Tucker to search about his family. “Todd, that was their last name,” he said. “My mom’s name was Catherine Todd, and my brother’s was Jason... My dad’s was... Will? William? Willis? Wilred? I don’t remember...”

- Tucker searched. And... “Dude... you’re... not going to like this.”

- “What? What’s wrong?” he asked.

- Tucker sucked in a breath. “I just want you to prepare yourself, okay? It’s not good news.”

- Danny frowned. “Just say it, Tuck.”

- Tuck gulps, but nods. Then, he shows Danny what he searched. Catherine Todd had died from overdose, Willis Todd was a crook that was murdered by Two-face. And Jason... his brother... he was adopted into a wealthy family! The Waynes! He managed to get into a prestigious school! And Danny wondered why Jason didn’t go find him? Did Jason ever think of coming to get him now that he was in a better place? And Danny, maybe he wouldn’t be going to Jason, but it would have been nice to reconnect somehow? Maybe not... They had their own lives.

- But then, Danny reaches the final paragraphs of the research results that Tucker put together. 

- “He... He died?” he asked, reading and rereading what happened. An accident. An accident killed his brother.

- But, despite Tucker confirming it, it... didn’t feel right. And Danny’s intuition was getting better and better, more accurate. So, if it didn’t feel right that his brother died, then his brother probably isn’t dead. Did he fake his death? No... that didn’t feel right. He totally died. Then...

- Was he brought back to life?

- Bingo, his intuition said.

- “Dude? Hey, dude, are you okay?” Tucker was patting his back, talking softly and trying to ground Danny back from his panic attack.

- Danny made a decision. He was going to fly towards Gotham. He needed to find his brother. Check on him. Check on how he’s doing. 

- After reassuring Tucker, he made plans. Then, during the weekend, Danny talked to Valerie to take over for him, along with Sam and Tucker, and he flew all the way to Gotham to look for his brother.

- He felt Death everywhere he flew. But he felt the calling of a malformed ghost-core. Jason? His intuition sang. So, Danny flew closer and closer, until he reached an apartment along a street that seemed abandoned, if it weren’t for the various gangster-looking people roaming along it.

- Danny transformed back into his human form, no longer feeling the strong pull, but a weaker version of it. 

- ‘JASON!!’ his mind seemed to scream. He was about to see his brother. He was about to MEET his brother!! ‘JASON!!!!!’

- He was about to cross the street when... the light was turned green... and there was a truck and...

- Danny was flying. He wasn’t transformed, but Danny was flying in the air, held firmly by some teen in a hero get-up and a domino mask.

- Danny was plopped gently on the side-walk he was aiming to get to.

- “Phew,” said the teen. And, wow, he’s only slightly taller than Danny. He’s probably the same age as him... or older. He looked Danny up and down before asking, “So, you doing okay?”

- Danny nods. “I’m good,” he said. Wow, he’s got a nice voice. And a nice body. Are those abs real? Or are those just kevlar linings??

- “Where are you trying to go?” the teen asked, snapping Danny out of his close to sinful thoughts.

- “I’m looking for my brother,” said Danny, clutching onto the blanket tighter, thankful that the teen saved him or else it could have gotten ruined. Sure, he’s been hit by buses before, but not while he was in human form!! “He lives on this street.”

- The way the teen’s brows rose higher made the hero look a little cute--- FOCUS DANNY! He’s not here for cute boys in hero get-ups!! Oh shoot. Oh man. Oh no... 

- “What’s your brother’s name?” the teen asked. And, Thank You!! Yes! THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT DANNY WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DOING!

- “You just look like someone who lives on this street,” the teen said, smiling a bit crookedly. OHHHHHHH WHY ARE YOU SMILING LIKE THAT?! THAT’S ILLEGAL! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE A HERO, NOT A THIEF OF HEARTS!!!!

- Calm yourself, Danny. Let’s find out whether we are talking about the same person. Danny blinked. “What’s that person’s name?”

- “Peter Todd,” the teen said.

- Feeling a bit dejected, Danny shook his head. “That’s not the person I’m looking for,” he said. “I’m looking for Jason Todd.”

- “Jason Todd is... dead,” he said, a bit hesitantly.

- “No, he’s not,” Danny said, a bit firmly.

- The teen took him by the shoulders, and brought Danny’s face closer to his. He could feel the teen’s breath. It smelled like coffee and breath mints. “Legally, he is,” the teen said.

- That... that got Danny’s attention. He whispered back, “What do you mean by-- oh.” Legally, his brother is dead. He died, he came back to life, but to everyone, Jason is dead. So... “He has a new civilian identity?” asked Danny.

- The teen leaned back and nodded. Then, he pointed to a door. “That’s Peter’s house,” he said. Then, he aimed his grappling hook to the sky. 

- Danny stuttered a loud ‘thank you’, to which was responded to with a brief wave from the teen, who flew off to the next building over.

- Danny then went up to the door that belongs to Peter Todd. Jason Todd. His brother.

- Should he knock? Ring the doorbell? 

- Before Danny could make a decision, the door opened for him.

- And there, in front of him, was a tall man who looked like a more human and slimmer version of Dan, a white streak in his hair, and a slight stubble on his chin. He had the same blue eyes as Danny. And those blue eyes widened when Danny brought up his blanket. His blanket full of stars, and planets, and tiny rockets that he loved so much the more he held on to it.

- “Jay... Jason?” 

- The man’s chin wobbled, and Danny felt his own chin wobbling. Great. Both of them are going to cry. But, instead of saying anything, the man stepped towards him and brought him into a hug, a tight hug that’s so warm and full of love, Danny couldn’t help but hug back. 

- “Danny?” Jason’s voice was breathy.

- Danny couldn’t respond, only letting out a small sound that was a mix of a whine and a grunt.

- Jason chuckled. “Still a monkey, aren’t ya?”

- Danny felt Jason’s core calming the more Danny stayed with him, and Jason felt himself lighter than he had in years. It couldn’t be because Danny was here, but it is! It is because Danny is here!

- Jason invites him inside. It was quiet at first, the two of them just taking in the other, trying to process how real this was. And then, they began exchanging stories. Something light, of what had been going on for the past years they’ve been apart. 

- And then, the next thing they knew, it was already morning of the next day, and Danny needed to get back home. He gave one last hug to Jason, promising that he’ll visit again next week, and took off to the street, turning on his invisibility and flying back to Amity Park.

****

- Red Robin, or should we say Tim Drake, saw it all. From the moment Danny suddenly appeared to the moment Danny disappeared in the alleyway. He had just finished talking to Jason about some case they were working on together, although their relationship was still a bit rocky, when he saw the teen suddenly appear in the alleyway below Tim.

- Well, rocky relationship aside, Tim’s mind flew with a thousand thoughts a second when Danny confirmed who he was looking for. Danny knew for some reason that Jason was alive, but he didn’t know Jason’s fake identity. The teen knew where Jason lived, but he also looked like he was just going to go up some random door and hope that the person who opens it would be the person he’s looking for.

- Cass had taught him how to read sincerity of a person’s behavior, and Danny wasn’t hiding anything. He was sincerely looking for his brother.

- He was also kinda cute.

- “Tt. What are you spacing out about, Timothy? Your face is making a weird expression,” said the Demon Brat.

- Stephanie snickered. “Give him a break, Dames! Our dear Timmy-Wimmy’s in Wuuuuuuv~!”

- Tim sighed.

- Anything else that happens? It’s for another day <3

#Damn this got long XD #Oh? Did you guys spot a sprinkle of braindead ship in this? Yes #Yes you did! #My fingers couldn't stop themselves uwu #tim drake x danny fenton #braindead #dc x dp #danny phantom #jason todd #jazz fenton #danny fenton #tim drake #red robin #dp x dc #tucker foley #danny phantom x batman crossover

[beemochi-art]

The very sweet and beautiful Bumblebee! From my transformers au. (God it needs a name.)

He was the first to arrive on earth! Young and way smarter than he looks. Shy and awkward when first meeting someone but when he comes out of his shell he’s quick with his words and his mind. He’s a curious bot and sometimes that’ll get him into trouble, but he can’t help himself to investigate, it’s the scout in him.

Despite his predecessors of the bumblebees with large kill counts, he has decided he’s not going to kill. Beat the stuffing out of, sure. But never kill. He’s seen the bad on both sides.

Backstory time.

Bumblebee was a standard autobot clone and there were hundreds like him. (Well, kind of.)

These autobot drone foot soldiers were put on a ship heading to earths moon to make a base. On their long journey, the soldiers eventually started being more laxed with each other and the standard military ship turned into a colony of sorts. Professionalism was thrown to the side and well… Bumblebee was forged of the ship. But he wasn’t know as bumblebee yet. He was b127. All the soldiers go by numbers since they were taught their line of bots weren’t worth names.

B127 didn’t have a strong connection with cybertron and really didn’t care for the war. He hadn’t seen either. The higher ups that were on the ship; Riptide, Fortress Maximus and the great Sentinel Prime would commonly mistreat the soldiers. ( Riptide wasn’t so bad but still a bully, in an older brother kind of way.) B127 couldn’t keep his mouth shut. And he’d usually be heavily reprimanded. He couldn’t stand seeing his clan take the continued mistreatment and even worse them dishing out the punishments on the higher ups behalf.

Finally they made it to the moon but there were already decepticons there. The two went into battle, the autobots fought hard but it hard been years since they’ve been in a real fight. B127 wanted to fight to protect his family but was instead put on a escaped pod to earth by the order of Sentinel Prime.

The pod reached earth and put bee in a hyper sleep. Bumblebee never found out how the fight would go, waking up years later. He assumed that they both canceled each other out since he didn’t see any autobots or decepticons. He was wrong.

He would meet a girl who got caught up with some cons. Bumblebee saved her but he got damaged. She In return fixed him up. Bumblebee didn’t talk to her cause he was nervous, but she started just calling him bumblebee and the same stuck. Bumblebee fell in love with planet and it’s people. Swearing to protect it. For the girls own safety he left.

Eventually getting an autobot signal. More pods showed up. Optimus Prime, Chromia, Wheeljack, Ratchet, Ironhide, Jazz and Scavenger.

Bumblebee already had like a suto base set up (really it was his secret hide out. And he just liked a lot of space.) Bumblebee soon realized that these bots were very different from the higher ups he met before. They treated each other more like family. Bumblebee just assumed they treated him with respect because they didn’t know he was a drone foot soldier. He saw no need to tell them.

Voice claim: Steven Yeun

I could have said more about the backstory but that would have been spoily spoilers soooooo…..

#my art #transformers #transformers au #bumblebee #tf bumblebee #autobot bumblebee #long post

[blond-jerk-tourney]

Blond Jerk Tourney FINALS

Propaganda from submitters Under Cut

Sharpay Evans

Blonde, HSM antagonist but it was never that deep

vote for Sharpay right now she fought sasuke

Nanami Kiryuu

She's the mean girl of the show, and a pretty interesting take on the "bitchy vain school rival of the protagonist" trope. She spends most of her early screentime being a bully and most of her later screentime being both the biggest loser imaginable and deeply sad/troubled (which still does not erase how much of an asshole she can be). She even laughs like your stereotypical mean rich girl. Nanami has so many problems and sucks so so bad. I adore her.

Shes a psychotic bully who seeks to ruin the lives and reputations of any girl who gets more of her brothers attention than she does. Reasons Nanami Kiryuu deserves to win: - she has made many attempts at physical and psychological terrorism against Anthy Himemiya (including a plotted wardrobe malfunction at a crowded social gathering) simply for drawing more of her brother's attention than her - tried to fill Anthy's bedroom with wild animals (a snail, a snake, and a live octopus) to make her out to be a freak only to find that her room was already full of wild animals - she bankrolled an elementary schoolers crush on her to turn him into her personal boyservant - briefly non-personed a member of her bully entourage for sharing an umbrella with her brother - received a luxury cowbell due to a shipping error and smugly wore it to school for weeks flaunting it like high coture - when her bully entourage rebelled against her due to her brothers manipulation she brought them back in line by just straight up beating the shit out of all of them - all in all just a petty, goonish motherfucker (she also does the ohohohohoho anime girl laugh)

she's blond: despite being Japanese her hair is yellow, unlike her brother's. yellow is even her image color. she's a jerk: introduced as a jealous and dishonest scheming bully, she is one of the more outwardly antagonistic characters in a cast where pretty much everyone is a Real Piece Of Work she's the best: the quintessential ohoho-laughing ojou, her fully-realized character arc makes people both laugh and cry even her sidekick is a blond jerk! how many blond jerks have their own blond jerk sidekick?

i don't know what you've heard but she's NOT the kind of girl who lays eggs!

The token mean rich girl of the franchise. Does the classic "ohohoho" laugh. Doesn't like either of our main characters. She never actually seems to get her way, and secretly has a lot of her own problems. also she lays eggs and turns into a cow

Absolutely THE quintessential anime mean girl. I mean literally her laughing is THE meme for the hohohoho anime laugh. Needs attention So Badly and straight up bullies anyone she deems a threat to that (so basically Everyone). I haven’t finished RGU but apparently she duels with the intent to kill and drowned a kitten once because it was taking up too much of her brother’s attention? Also she’s 13 which explains a lot

#blond jerk tournament #tournament polls #polls #character bracket #sharpay evans #high school musical #nanami kiryuu #revolutionary girl utena #rgu

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

''Fight and Die'' Slightly darkAemond x AFAB Reader 18+ MDNI PART 6!

Aemond x fem oc/reader

Tags: Show setting, abusive brother (but its not aemond) mentioned of forced marriages and duels, mentions of parental loss.

🔷Summary: Your ancestors once betrayed the Targaryens and paid a high price. Now you are back at court with your brother, who hopes to sell you in exchange for his freedom.

🔷Author's note: It might still be a little darkish but not as dark as usual. I think this is the closest to show aemond I ever got. So he still is not a unicorn yall but he is at least imo he is decent and nice.

🔷Wordcount :3347 

Warnings below the cut

WARNINGS: Gore, mentions of assault (but it doesnt happen, and its not aemond who wants to do it) mentions of blood, gore, and violence as well as miscarriages (oc's mother)

Blood does not scare you. It once did, but not anymore.

It is liquid, water in a way. And there is nothing more natural to you than water.

Just funny coloured water that comes pouring out of your body if you are injured.

You came into this world, covered in blood as your mother bled out on the sheets, according to Fyrand. You were screaming and crying, kicking and alive. Despite Maesters feared the worst, despite your enemies hoping the worst, you came out alive. 

And you did just that.

Time and time and time again.

Whenever you see blood, it brings you back to a distant but fresh memory. Not your birth. You don’t recall what your own mother looked like. You never saw a portrait, or anything. You never dared to ask Fyrand either. Your mother is a wound that never healed.

So, another memory surfaces from the dark instead. A dark memory of you, standing on a ship, during a storm. Your brother close to you, his fingers holding a crown. Your family’s crown.

You recall how badly the ship and the men smelled. Like piss, like beer, like all unpleasant unladylike things. Like hell, if you are being honest. You never had any man eye you with desire, but in that very moment you had. The captain of the pirateship couldn’t keep his eyes off from you.

Fyrand had made a deal, selling the crown for passage to Westeros. But the Captain had decided he wanted more. He wanted you. ‘’Westeros is a boring place. It would be best to have her stay here.’’ You remember the way his crew laughed, that sickening, twisted laughter.

Fyrand has never been kind to you. But he was not stupid either. He would not give up his pawn to a mere pirate. Not when he already offered the crown of his mother.

It is funny how the gods have a sense of humor, as that man that wanted to marry you, too missed an eye. And his teeth were almost falling from his mouth, caused by rotting.

Fyrand huffed, took the crown and left the ship, dragging you with him. But you were denied access and grabbed. The captain placed his dagger against your throat. He hissed that you needed to be quiet and that Fyrand had to make a choice. ‘’Either your sister gives me her hand, or you do.’’ You weren’t sure what you ever did to that man. But you noticed a golden sealion that day. A few weeks after the attack, you found out your house tried to destroy that house. He was taking revenge for a crime none of you were even alive to remember.

You remember how you screamed when Fyrand took a sword of a crewmember and placed it at his left wrist, and just chopped. The flesh teared, blood poured and the captain finally released you as you sobbed on the deck, hearing Fyrand’s roar of pure pain and agony. The hand wasn’t off fully. It remained, tangling by pieces of flesh, as a leaf dancing in the wind. You felt your stomach turn and whatever meal you had would soon come back up. The captain approached Fyrand, grabbed his hand, and just pulled, tearing the flesh fully as Fyrand threw his head in his neck and screamed. 

After that, somehow, you were both allowed to stay. It was a uncomfortable journey for you, but no incidents had happened aside from people calling ‘’doll’’ and smirking whenever you passed. 

You and Fyrand shared one room aboard, and in that room, you stitched close his wound with a needle and ripped threads from one of your dresses. You never had stitched a wound before and Fyrand didn’t have anything to soften the pain. You were afraid at first. But you knew he would die if you didn’t get over it. So you pierced his skin and started stitching, bringing the wound flesh close, and tied it close.

It is strange.

Many years and moons have passed since that night but you can still hear your brother scream and picture his hand, the way the blood sprayed out of his hand, coloring the deck red as the pirates cheered.

Aemond does not seem to notice that you are not there anymore, but your feet become quicker as if you are a dancer that takes the lead and your breath increases. Aemond, Aemond doesn't notice. In truth, Aemond seems happy. Almost dazed, enchanted or drugged. He can't seem to stop smiling as you drag him with you, faster and faster as memories plague your mind.

You think back of the conversation the two of you had earlier. How Ser Criston was allegedly a good sword fighter. How good can he be, if he injured the Prince? “I thought you told me that Ser Criston was an excellent swordsman?” Your voice sounds snappy, angry and furious.

Aemond barely hides his chuckle. You turn around to look at him, so he can see the pain and worry in your face. The moment he sees how much this hurts and worries you, the smile dies. He steps forward. You back away at first but he bumps into you anyway. Clumsily he grabs you gently and kisses your forehead. “He is, Revaera. It was a small cut and my own fault. I got too impatient. I am many things, patient is not one of my qualities.”

You smile, mischievously and play with the pins on his shirt, touching his chest. “Someone should teach you patience. I don't want you injured.” You tell him, kissing his cheeks. 

He breaks into a grin, a stunning bright grin that lights up your entire world. You feel your cheeks warm and are pressed against his body. “Maybe you can teach me.” He whispers, seductively. You like the way he has you where he wants you to. You feel safe and relax, until you see that the wound still drips with blood. You stare at it, as the world seems to fade.

“We need a maester.” You hear Aemond say, but you don’t react. This time, he needs to drag you with him.

You and Aemond soon find the maester in his room. It is nicely decorated and as you assumed, it has dozens of books. You wonder if the Maester himself wrote anything. The maester in question is a bald man, wearing classical robes and a chain, as you suspected. He is reading a big book that lies in front of him on the desk, not paying the two of you any attention. 

That is until you speak, pushing Aemond in his direction, surprising the young prince, who stumbles on his feet, his good eye widened in surprise. ‘’He is hurt. The prince is injured.’’ You speak, your voice clear and calm.

You expect perhaps some urgency. Perhaps a worried glance. You don't expect what happens.

The maester slams his book closed, his eyes full of fear and terror as he looks at Aemond. ‘’What? Where? Show me!’ He cries out. The chair he was sitting on falls on its back and you watch, a bit flustered.

Even Aemond seems shocked.

That was perhaps not a good idea.

You feel terrible when the concerned and dutiful Maester looks at the tiny cut in Aemond’s hands. You really scared the poor man and avoid his eyes for now on. 

Aemond chuckles, smiling at you as if you are his whole world. You don’t understand why, you scared a poor man, and you also made a scene. Yet he seems to appreciate it. 

You think back of his words. Earlier, he mentioned that his father wouldn't even notice if he did not attend the supper you two skipped. What was that supposed to mean? 

The maester allows himself to calm down, sighing with relief as he takes in Aemond's injury. He looks at the cut. ‘’O. A small cut.’’ The maester says, after studying it. “Luckily it looks like a clean one. Did you injure yourself when fighting?” He asks prince Aemond.

Aemond turns his head away, so that is a yes. “It was just a scratch, but Revaera insisted.” Aemond should be annoyed or fed up with your behavior but instead he smiles adoringly at you, holding your hand in his free one as the maester looks closer at the wound.

‘’You have a protective wife, my prince.’’ The maester comments kindly. “It is Princess Revaera, is it not?” He asks you, and you can tell by his piercing glare that he knows all too well who your family is.

You nod. The maester does not say anything but his look says it all. Disapproval.“To have a Marthyralys back in the castle. Your ancestors left a colorful mark on Westeros's history books.” You know he is right. You know your ancestors killed a lot of people. But is it really the time to have that conversation? And is it really up to him to judge you for the crimes of your ancestors? 

Any other day you might have reconsidered: This man has a story, same as you. Maybe he is a family member of someone killed. Or maybe he simply wants to keep the castle and the royal family safe.

But you can't stop the words rolling off your tongue. You can’t stop the fire that burns in your veins. “So did any family worth their salt.”

The maester makes a disapproving grimace. Next to you, Aemond nods approvingly as his wound is cleaned, smirking proudly.

The Maester turns to Aemond, tying the bandage over his cutted hand. “A fierce wife. You do best to muzzle her. I'm not so sure Westeros is ready for such a free spoken woman.” You wonder instantly if the Targaryens knew you were hiding in Pentos. You told Aemond, you assume the court knew but why does a Maester know this? A maester, who knows everything about curing a illness….

And causing one.

You look at Aemond and he seems to know you caught on too, quickly scratching behind his ear and turning his head away once more. You will talk with him about that. But you have another problem. The Maester is right. 

You embarrassed Aemond. You spoke out of line. You threw a tantrum like some little girl. You disappointed him beyond words.

Aemond speaks, and you can't even look at him. You really aren't cut out to be a Princess. “She has become quite fierce. I don't mind it one bit, however. She can speak however she wishes.” He says, fierce and protective. He kisses your knuckles as a token of appreciation and love. Then his gaze hardens when he looks at the Maester. “Westeros might not be ready for her, but she is ready for Westeros. Whether it likes it or not; Here she is and here she'll stay. Am I understood?” You beam, pleased as the Maester visibly cowers, afraid of the temper of the Prince.

You see the Maester gulp and know that Aemond has made his point very clear.  “Yes, my prince.” The maester mutters.

Aemond smiles, barely hiding his pride, that you are his wife. ‘’I am truly blessed. My princess has enough worries on her mind. She does not need this as well.” there is a barely hidden warning there. The maester must not disturb you.

The maester does as he is told, and you and Aemond soon leave his rooms. You walk back with him, your left hand into his injured right one. You try not to think of how your brother lost his own hand. But that is difficult.

You two walk in a peaceful silence and when Aemond speaks, you nearly jump out of your skin. “How has your day been?” You think back of your talk with Fyrand. A baby must soon be made. A child. A heir. And you hate how your memories keep haunting you, whenever you see blood.

And there’s something else.

On your wedding day, Princess Rhaenyra said something that haunts you still. She said she had her ‘’own’’ maesters. Is that a good thing? Or a bad thing? And can you even trust them? And why did she tell you, of all people?

Aemond is unaware your thoughts are gathering and forming a storm in your head. “What hobby did you pick?” He asks Excited to know your answer  as you remain silent.  You freeze. You had forgotten all about that. You would try to find something to entertain yourself. To bring him joy, rest, and so that he doesn’t have to worry when doing his duties.

Some wife you are.

“Uhm, well…I…” You laugh first then you become nervous, as the walls seem to close around you and your breath quickens. 

You laugh, begin to breathe harder and eventually you become dizzy. You sway on your feet and begin crying as the air is taken from your lungs, as you collapse to the ground.

Aemond is shocked at first. He kneels down by you right away however. “Calm, my love. I am not mad. Calm.” He whispers, holding you by your wrists, gently so you may be free any moment you want. He also allows you room to breathe and takes deep breaths with you. You follow his example and soon you feel better and calm and stand back up, with his help.

He kisses you after you have stopped crying too. “I had a change of heart. If it truly makes you that anxious to be outside of my rooms, if it truly upsets you so much…” He swallows and looks at the tiles, clearly ashamed he encouraged you.

That's all he did. Encourage you. To be free. To be happy. To let your trauma go. To live your life. Maybe he is right. “No, maybe you were right. Maybe I need this push.” You speak.

He shakes his head. “I don't want to become someone you fear or worse, hate.” He whispers. 

You could never hate him. “You were only worried for my own wellbeing and safety. You were right, Aemond. I can't stay cooped up in your rooms as some chicken.” No matter how safe you feel there. “No matter how comfortable your bed is.” You add, to jest. He takes it well and laughs, grinning.

Aemond helps you stand, testing if you can remain on your own two feet before letting you go. “How about we try to find something fun to do tomorrow? I never showed you the city. We can do that, should you wish for it.” King's Landing.

You have never seen it. Only heard stories. Stories of fierce men and dangerous dragons and treason and loyalty. “Your ancestors built this city side by side with mine. I know my family wants to erase you from our accomplishments. I know your ancestor was a great traitor. But he is not the only Marthyralys that lived. There are dozens before him that advised and counseled my family…” He is right. You know he is.

But…

Seeing your own history…

You aren’t sure you are ready for that.

Your ancestors might have build this city…

But they build it over the grave of millions.

Is it truly something to be proud of?

But Aemond doesn’t seem to know shame when it comes to history. “So, you could learn your history and ancestry, should you wish it.” He finishes a bit shy, and that makes you understand how important this is to him. He wants to show you the city he grew up in. He wants to spend time with you and to hold your hand as you walk through stinking streets as two ordinary people in love.

“Is that even allowed?” You ask. You doubt his father will approve. The king hates you, you are certain of it. And to have a Marthyralys wonder the streets, learn about Targaryen secrets and plots…

He chuckles. “I'm the Prince. You are the Princess. Asides, how can we learn from our mistakes if we do not acknowledge them?” He asks, and there he makes a good point.

Still, you aren’t sure. “That is true.” You mutter.

He breaks into a grin, victorious at last. “It stands then.” He kisses your cheeks and you are reminded of what you and Fyrand discussed. His baby. Aemond kisses increase as he leaves a trail of kisses on your collarbone, his smile something between a smirk and a smile as he softly pins you against the walls of the hallway, quickly looking around for servants or any other witnesses.

You tremble. And just like that, the spell is broken.

Aemond's good eye closes suspiciously, and the sweet kisses end. “What is it?” It is terrifying how well he can read you already.

You know he wants a baby.

You know so.

And you can’t say that you don’t want that. That you can’t want that. That you are terrified of dying like your mother. “Nothing.” 

He scoffs, concern written all over his face as his body language changes from excited to worry. “There clearly is. Tell me what is the matter? I do wish us to discuss this.” You nod, and Aemond allows you to leave the wall. 

You go to his bedchamber, tears burning in your eyes and you hear his footsteps, never that far behind you.

Aemond closes the door and waits for you to explain yourself. You sit down on his bed, sniffling.  “Fyrand has been pressuring me about a baby.” You admit.

At first he is confused. “A baby?”

You wipe away at your tears, furiously that this makes you so upset. Giving Aemond a child, an heir, making princes and princesses, it should be the highest honor. So why does this terrify and hurt you so deeply? “Yes. A heir for you. For your father too.” You blurt out.

Aemond raises a brow.

“You want to carry my father's heir?”

You would rather die. Disgusted, you shake your head. “No! I meant, I'd give you a son, and him a grandchild. According to Fyrand that will disincrease the hate he has for me.’’

Aemond scoffs, and you can tell he does not agree with that idea. He scoffs at Fyrand, not you. “My brother thought the same thing for a while. But nothing will please that old buffalo.” You keep crying. No matter how eager you are to stop.

Aemond sighs, and he soon joins you on the bed, sitting next to you. He grabs your hands, where you are pulling your skin, to stop just that. “I know it is expected of both of us to soon present our child at court.” You nod at his words.

But he grabs your hands tightly and kisses your knuckles. “But I want us to have that child, when you want to have a child.” You are shocked. 

He continues, storking your belly through your gown. “I want you to glow, beam of pride and joy and to stroke and caress your belly and to love our child. I want you to be ready for it.” He says. 

You can’t believe this.

And so you won’t. “But what of your legacy? The Targargen line? Don't you want my baby?” You ask. You can’t imagine Aemond being fine with his line dying out. You just can’t.

He grins, and you can tell he is hiding something from you. He cares. He cares so badly, about having his legacy, about having this child with you. He is hiding his own darkest desires, his own insidious thoughts. ‘’I want you. I married you. I didn't marry your title. I didn't marry your bloodline. But you, Revaera.’’ You tear up, lips trembling as you wrap your arms around his neck, burying yourself in the safety of his arms. “It's alright, my love. Just let it out.” He whispers, holding you. ‘’We will find a way. I just know we will.’’ You nod, and you wonder just how much he believes his own lies. 

/TRAILER CAME OUT

so uh

IM SCARED xD

#tags #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond one eye #hotd x reader #hotd x you #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond smut #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #hotd x oc #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x oc #Aemondsmut #Aemond imagined

[knightprincess]

No Matter What (Crosshair x Reader) - Platonic

Words: 1.3k Warning: Fluff with a little bit of hurt/comfort. Synopsis: After settling on Pabu with Clone Force 99, (Y/N) goes on a self-given mission with Crosshair to bring their lost brother home.

After the assault on Mount Tantis and the death of Hemlock, things had been different for Clone Force 99. Echo had refocused his efforts on helping the build Clone Rebellion, taking with him Emerie and some of the clones rescued from the Advanced Science Division, among them Comet. Omega had seamlessly adjusted to life on Pabu once more, happy to be just another kid, growing up peacefully until she was ready to join the fight once more if she did.

Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair would take care of Jax, Bayrn, Eva, and Sami until they could be returned to their families. Each had decided it was time to retire, to discover who they were outside of being soldiers, and to find out what adventures life had in store for them now. However, they’d always be on call if Echo ever needed them.

(Y/N) on the other hand, would use her skills as a bounty hunter to help provide for the people of Pabu and help clones across the galaxy find their way once they were freed from the empire. Although she loved the peace Pabu offered and the small family unit she had gained with Clone Force 99, she wasn’t ready to settle down completely. Not when she still had questions that needed answering. Not when she still needed to find closure.

“I miss him too,” said Crosshair, picking up Tech’s broken goggles from the dashboard of (Y/N)’s ship. Seconds later, a sigh escaped him, hidden within it, regret and grief. The last time he’d spoken to Tech was on Kamino; once again, they’d gone their separate ways. If only he’d chosen differently. “You have to let him go (Y/N). He wouldn’t want you to hold on like this.”

“I can’t,” whispered (Y/N), stopping what she was doing and allowing Crosshair’s words to sink in. “I have to bring him home, even if I have to say goodbye one last time,” she added, admitting she knew there was a chance Tech was truly gone, but she couldn’t allow herself to believe it, not until she found him. “He never gave up on me when I was lost. Neither of you did. I won't give up on him now until he’s home.”

“Then I’m going with you,” said Crosshair, putting the broken goggles back on the dashboard, moving to sleeping racks, and setting another up, if only to make his point clear.

“Omega and the kiddos need you here,” commented (Y/N), attempting to protest. Although she already knew it was pointless. Crosshair was one of the most stubborn people she knew. Once he made up his mind, there was little that could change it.

“Hunter and Wrecker can handle things here until we get back,” declared Crosshair, turning to face (Y/N) before crossing his arms over his chest. “Right now, you need me more,” he added, although he did not admit he’d thought about going out there to look for his brother. Something didn’t sit right with him, leaving Tech out there.

“I’m not going to win, am I?” asked (Y/N), sighing as she walked the length of her ship. Filled with memories of the past, her life as a Jedi Knight that felt like a lifetime ago, and her new life as a bounty hunter and protector.

“Nope,” simply responded Crosshair, “You’re stuck with me this time Shortfire.”

The moment Crosshair entered the cockpit, he pushed the red button, activating the com channel. He spoke to Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega there, informing them of his impromptu decision to join (Y/N) on her journey. Framing it to make sure she had backup and would come home again.

“It wasn’t your fault (Y/N),” said Crosshair when (Y/N) entered the cockpit, following the routine she’d once taught Tech, checking over all the systems. There’s nothing either of us could have done to stop him from using Plan 99.”

“If I was there, I could have stopped him from falling,” admitted (Y/N), finally opening up about the guilt haunting her. When her family needed her most on Eriadu, she was across the galaxy, hiding from her past and the Jedi Hunters that had seemingly appeared overnight.

“You were protecting them. No one could have predicted Saw being on Eriadu, and no one could have predicted Tech sacrificing himself. Blaming ourselves won’t change the past (Y/N). It will only prevent you from finding peace and happiness, whatever that looks like.”

“For what it’s worth, Fortune Cookie, I’m glad you’re coming with me,” admitted (Y/N), bestowing Crosshair with a new nickname, replacing the old one of Snarky Sniper. “I don’t think I could do this alone.”

“We’re family until the end,” Crosshair replied, pulling (Y/N) into himself and wrapping her in a warm embrace that seemed foreign but familiar to them both. “Where do we start?”

“Where our fight ended,” responded (Y/N) with a shakey voice, recalling when she’d gone to Eriadu, risking everything to follow the monorail track in search of Tech. She’d found the car's wreckage but no sign of Tech. If there was any blood, the rain had long since washed it away; there was no body to be found or any trace that he was even there, just what remained of the car.

“Tantis?” questioned Crosshair, confusion evident in his quiet voice as he took up the co-pilot’s seat.

“Hunter said Hemlock was the one to return Tech’s goggles; there’s got to be some trace, a lead to follow somewhere,” replied (Y/N), a slither of hope present in her otherwise whispered voice. She dared not speak louder in case her fears grew stronger and became her cruel reality.

“Setting course for Tantis,” worded Crosshair as (Y/N) piloted the ship safely away from the small island. As per tradition, the people waved goodbye, Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega among them.

“Take good care of them, Gonky,” spoke Omega through her com, receiving a simple gonk! in confirmation.

“We’ll see when you come home,” added Hunter, his voice filled with acceptance as if he knew the day would come when (Y/N) went in search of answers. As if he knew one day she’d go on the self-given mission to bring Tech home. “Stay safe out there.”

“You got it, Havoc #1,” replied (Y/N).

“I’ll make sure she comes home in one piece,” declared Crosshair, resting the stump of his wrist on his lap, grabbing onto the handle beneath his seat as he prepared for the rough climb out of Pabu’s atmosphere, “Our family’s been through enough. None of us can handle another loss.”

“We’re not losing anyone this time. We’re bringing our lost brother home,” replied (Y/N), determination alight in her voice. One way or another, the small family unit was going to be reunited again, no matter how long it took.

“Remind me again,” started Crosshair, fiddling with Tech’s broken goggles; now they’d left Pabu’s atmosphere. A smirk appeared across his lips as he remembered Tech’s hobby of recording everything—even the little things. “What you told us before we went into our first battle.”

“No matter what, I’ve got your back. I’d take a bullet for you if it comes to that. In the bitter end, we’re gonna be the last one standing.”

The holoclip appeared before the two, glowing blue and fuzzy. Of course, Tech had recorded it. They were so young back then, naive to what would happen when the war ended, unprepared for the cruel galaxy they lived in.

“Looks like Tech knew you were going to ask,” commented (Y/N); the smallest of grins appeared across her lips as she launched them into hyperspace. “Do you think Omega knows it?” she asked, curious if the boys would have shared the almost promise with Omega, the brave little girl growing up far too quickly, growing up to be a fighter no less—the best of all of them.

“She knows. Hunter would have made sure of it,” replied Crosshair, hope flooding his voice despite the uncertainty they both faced. “No matter what, Shortfire, I’ve got your back until the end.”

KnightPrincess Masterlist

#the bad batch #star wars #crosshair #reader insert #reader interactive #star wars fanfiction #star wars oneshot #the bad batch x reader #tbb crosshair x reader #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch wrecker #the bad batch omega #platonic relationships #family memes #Clone Force 99 retires #Clone Force 99 as a family #cross posted on quotev #cross posted on ao3 #cross posted on deviantart #cross posted on inkitt #cross posted on wattpad #cross posted on neobook #cross posted on novlr

[acotar-taylorsversion]

Another Little Rant

I'm sorry, but not everyone wants Lucien.

Not his court. Not his brothers. Not Tamlin. Not his mate.

Rhys only puts up with him for the sake of an alliance. And I think Feyre only keeps him around because of the friendship they once had. Azriel hates him and I don't think Cassian, Mor, and Amren care enough to about him to really say anything.

This is why he's finding his own place and home with the Band of Exiles. Hence the name.

Now, don't go thinking I hate Lucien. I can hear y'all now thinking I'm the worst person because I don't put him on a pedestal. I don't particularly care for him. I only see him being beneficial to Vassa's story, because I do think the small moments between them are cute and they might actually mean something. I'm convinced that this is one of the very few reasons why she has kept him around this long. I never found Lucien as this exciting, funny character. I almost put down acotar when it first came out because I found Tamlin boring and Lucien annoying and I was convinced Feyre was either gonna end up with the boring one or the annoying one (but then Rhys came along 🥰). The only thing that got me through the beginning of acomaf was because I could smell feysand from a mile away. And don't even get me started on the end of that book.

I don't see the appeal in elucien at all. I'm convinced the only reason people support that ship is because of the fact that they are mates and they have this unusual obsession with Lucien. Don't know why, honestly. I don't know how people can read where Elain literally loses her newfound boldness, shrinks into herself, and literally hides in the kitchen refusing to pour water in a cup to make him tea and think "omg I can't wait for them to fall in love 😍." Like, if Sarah makes them endgame then I will be convinced that she forgot about every other acotar book she has written. And don't say "well if you don't want to read about fated mates, don't read acotar." She's talking about rejecting the bond and exploring what happens after and who's the only other couple who hasn't accepted their bond yet? Yeah, that's right, Elain and Lucien. I can only assume it's gonna be them who reject the bond. And yes, that would mean Lucien not having his mate. But, you know what, he's a grown ass man and he's not the baby everyone treats him to be. "Poor baby Lucien, he'll be so heartbroken." "He deserves his mate, he deserves to be happy."

Like what about Elain? Eluciens don't care about Elain at all and nothing will ever convince me that they do. She has found her place in the Night Court with her sisters, and her new friends. She is happy there. She is finally accepting her new life now, and she's doing all of that without Lucien.

Sorry for the rant, y'all. I don't care if no one likes this or comments on this or anything. this is my blog and it is my safe place to express how I feel at certain moments.

And, please if you disagree with me, then by all means let me know. I'm open to any and all discussions.

#acotar #elain archeron #pro elriel #anti el*cien #anti e/lucien #don't know why everyone is obsessed with the one eyed ginger #elain doesnt want him #offer and permission #elain would rather be with Az than her mate #Sarah end this ship war #I am begging you

[vasquez-rocks]

in the spirit of "o'brien doesn't actually suffer the most, it's just that all his suffering takes place in special Suffering Episodes": a complete ranking of ds9 characters by how much they suffer

(including recurring guest stars but not villains. i don't care how much gul dukat suffers. he could get hit by a fucking bus for all i care!!) 1. kira nerys. undefeated galactic suffering champion. literally goes back in time to find out if her mom died in a concentration camp when she was a small child like she thought and somehow the answer she gets is, to her, EVEN WORSE THAN THAT. o'brien could never.

2. odo. lab experiment childhood, spends 5 seasons pining tragically for the station’s most eligible terrorist, seeks his family only to find out they're genocidal maniacs, every small innocent being he tries to parent either dies or runs away, he has to return to said family to end a war! odo suffers so much actually??

3. benjamin sisko. loses his wife, becomes an unwilling messiah, forced to leave his family (the most important thing), etc.

4. miles o'brien. ok fine sure he does suffer a lot. not like kira does tho!!

5. garak. most of his suffering is pre-show but that suffering is BAROQUE. and then daddy never tells him he loves him and he indirectly causes his mother’s death

6. nog. after 6 seasons of minimal suffering, our baby boy suffers a LOT

7. jake sisko. not counting "the visitor" (it was a different timeline!). if the show put Jake through any additional suffering, i would wail and cry. His primary sufferings are pre-show (mom's death) and end-of-show (dad is gone and can't say when he'll return), but they are significant. at least he has, and loves, a wonderful stepmom!

8. kassidy yates. SPEAKING OF. her primary suffering is going to jail for the standard federation prison sentence (6 months, which is also what garak got for attempted genocide!!!!!), but then also losing her beloved husband to the celestial temple like almost immediately after, which is kind of a lot

9. keiko o'brien. a lot of miles’ suffering is hers also, and also she gets possessed by a demon after spending the first few seasons trying to find a new fulfilling job despite her husband moving her, a botanist, to a barren space station on which all life withers

10. jadzia dax. happy-go-lucky sex worm who has never experienced a "problem" until gul dukat throws a death basketball at her at age 35, so idk it evens out

11. julian bashir. gets kidnapped a lot and has a backstory so angsty that it's hard to tell whether he's even technically the same person he once was. HOWEVER, he's a goofy lil sexual harasser which makes it very easy to overlook his suffering!

12. worf. virtually all of his suffering is his own fault and he universally responds to it by creating more suffering for his own perverse ends. however, he does get disgraced from his people (his fault), lose his wife (not his fault but also why was she the only person left on the station when she literally FLIES THE SHIP most of the time??), and refuses to ever have fun (his fault)

13. leeta. perky and happy. in a great marriage. loves her stepson! unionized her workplace! however she is not at the bottom of this list because she is (a) a child of the occupation and (b) has to put up with fuckin quark

14. ezri dax. contrary to her frequently expressed beliefs, many things are easy for ezri

15. quark. when he suffers it's hijinks

16. rom. rom's character development is entirely positive. he goes from being the put upon idiot brother to the self-actualized leader of his people who has a son who loves him and a beautiful wife. the worst thing that happens to him specifically is probably when he masturbates so hard he almost dies and even then the result is he becomes a hero to labor in both his world and ours. things go ludicrously well for him at every turn. he is the winner of ds9

#ds9 #deep space nine #star trek #jadzia dax #kira nerys #benjamin sisko #odo #ezri dax #julian bashir #worf #miles o'brien #suffering #the human condition #also bajoran condition i guess #rom #nog #quark