#i wish he saw and understood this is not how friends are supposed to be but

[izacore]

.

#all i'm gonna say is #that the people celebrating harry shouting out jeff as his best friend maybe rethink what they're actually celebrating #because if you believe they are truly besties #you also have to acknowledge that harry is okay with jeff and the whole hshq scamming and exploiting his fans without a second thought #so yeah forgive me if i thought better of harry i guess #i am gonna rethink if there's any sense defending him from them since he seems to like these people closeting him for profit #i wish he saw and understood this is not how friends are supposed to be but #too deep right now i guess #and I get it's complicated #but idk these people are genuinely evil #(also this is more @ the smug people being happy how we were obviously overreacting when we dared to call out his team than @harry himself) #(altough i'd love to shake him a little and show him what a true friendship can look like) #ok i am done

[skelliko]

Baji Keisuke |°- he broke up with you, but it was a mistake -- small, tiny bits of angst.

he didn't know what he was doing at all, he thought he understood but turns out he didn't. he thought he could go on with his day without having that giddy, warm feeling whenever you're mentioned or when Baji gets a vibration from his phone and without even looking to see who it's from he just knows it's you which causes a smile to creep up.

now, whenever he gets a text notification he jumps right into it thinking its you wanting him back but no, it's not you. it's some spam message or a text from one of his buds sending him homework answers that he forgot about. day instantly ruined.

he knows he's the one that ended it but why didn't you chase after him? it's a shit way to think and it doesn't make any sense at all because then what's the point in breaking up if he secretly wanted you to convince him to stay?

he regrets his decision, but also doesn't have the courage to face you again with this humiliation that only Baji, himself, has gained and caused. he didn't see the tears fall over your cheeks but he saw how you brought your hand up to your face when your back was turned. he knows you mourn in silence but looking back in that moment, he wished you to of slapped him for making that stupid statement and told him to take you back.

is that selfish of him? yes. because the only reason he broke up with you is because he was confused on what the feeling of love is supposed to feel like. in the beginning it seemed like a regular teenage romance, but as months went by he started to feel stronger emotions for you and that scared the hell out of him.

Keisuke being scared of love. he's not afraid of 50 men charging at him for a fight and it's him alone, he's not afraid of 100 either. he's not afraid of a knife battle, he's not afraid to speak up what's on his mind nor lead a large group within a gang, he's also not afraid to die for his friends. but he's afraid of love.

what is he supposed to say to get you back? 'hey I change my mind, can we get back together and cuddle? I miss your warmth' fuck no, you deserve an explanation and he's been pondering over it so much to the point where hes started to question if his heart can even beat anymore due to the distance between you both.

but is saving himself from humiliation better than losing you? no of course not. if it means to tell you how scared he was of a sappy emotion and you laugh at him then so be it if it means that he gets to see your smile, and if you don't laugh then he sure hopes you understand and don't stay consistent on being apart. cause this loneliness is becoming unbearable.

he ended up mentioning the situation to draken, why him out of everyone? cause draken has more experience with the feeling of love than anyone else. aside from takemichi but there's no way that hed be of help for Baji. and chifuyu gets all his relationship advice from his shows and books which all showcase high standards. and pah-chin is still in the middle of discovering his own feels for a certain someone.

"what the fuck Baji" are the first words that came out of Draken's mouth. it wasn't disappointed nor anger but rather a small push to get Baji actually thinking things over and becomes aware of not only his own emotions but yours as well. If Baji truly loved you then he wouldn't have waited this long, if he did then he wouldn't have even considered splitting up in the first place even if he was afraid. he could have talked his feelings out with you first but noooo he chose to go the hard way.

what the fuck indeed. he ended up being too focused on the humiliation on his side rather than the hurt on your side. now he feels like a complete douche.

sooner or later Keisuke finally managed to collect his mental strength In contacting you, he may have physical strength but his mentality is constantly going from one place to another, though with a bit of encouragement from draken he finally got over the fear. he was relieved that you hadn't blocked his number otherwise he would have to go up to you in person first and if so then he would have pondered longer.

it was a simple message but half the time simple and straightforward is enough to get the message across "hey, can we meet up? i want to explain a few things" "please" he double texted making sure that you get his notification, also wishing behind the screen that you reply soon.

he was starting to worry that you didn't want to talk things out and you were purposely ignoring him. he paced around his room, tried to listen to music to relax but then songs that you both would listen to came up and that just made him feel a lot worse, so he scraped that and started to tidy up his room. the nervous anticipation for your message kept increasing and decreasing with every little activity that he'd do to distract himself from you, it'd either make him calm for a few moments or make him remember.

but once you finally replied he couldn't have been more relaxed once you agreed, it was like a bubble popping. sure it took a few hours but baji convinced himself that you were just busy or maybe you were thinking though certain scenarios, which is what he'd do if roles were reversed. thought him thinking about it now makes him realise that he'd probably be pissed off if he was you, and the both of you were together for a reason meaning he was gonna have to face you while you're irritated.

he brought this all on himself, but he can handle you in that state, or in any state to be precise. he just wants to finally see you again and hopefully make things right.

a large mix of anxiety and excitement filled him up knowing that you both were gonna see each other face to face and talk without any more lies, he said he lost interest in you but that was far from the truth considering that he's actually gained more, and baji is almost dying to apologise to you and hopefully make things right. who knew he'd go this mad over someone.

even his mom realised the difference in Baji when you came into his life, and to now when you're out of it. she knows what happened and what Baji did since he ended up telling her after he told draken but that was mainly cause he asked about you, though that mainly just caused more confirmation of how much of a big mistake he did and sure enough after his mother's words it clicked that he needs you back more than anything. even his mom misses having you around and that's when you know it's serious.

when the time and day came he chose to walk to the meet up spot so that he can collect himself carefully and prepare his words. however on his way there he realised that he can't come empty handed with no tools to fix your heart. it'd almost make it seem like his job would be done half-assed if he went to fix something but only brought one tool. and his only tool in this scenario would be words that could be either taken lightly or with weight.

he wanted to bring you something, anything to physically show how sincere he is but he couldn't turn back to go to a flower shop and be late, that could just cause you to overthink that he doesn't actually care, plus baji wanted to be a little early to prove to you that he really does mean in wanting to explain everything.

so instead he quickly crossed the road to the opposite pathway and reached over someone's fenced, front garden that had some rose bushes and carefully snapped off the prettiest one he could find, one that he could be sure that you'd be obsessed over by how perfect the petals are. for the rest of the walk his finger tips had small, bleeding punctures from snapping off the thorns to make it safe for you to hold... that's if you accept it.

one is an odd number of roses but it's cutely appreciated either way holding one flower in your hand, two is an odd-even number of roses to have and holding just two flowers next to each other in one hand feels off, three and four are an okay amount to have but baji already spent a few dedicated minutes in trying to eye out the perfect rose. the people that own that bush should really try and take care of the roses more.

and there you are, walking right towards him, he could tell that you seem a little stiff and he doesn't blame you considering how you both last seen each other. though despite the whole reason for being here it feels almost nostalgic, because this spot is the place where you both first met where you apologised for mistaking him as someone else and here he is apologising to you in the same place for mistaking his feelings.

 ♡----

#think you'd accept his apology? #I'm actually really happy about this one #tokyo revengers baji #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #baji keisuke #baji #baji x reader #baji keisuke angst #keisuke #keisuke baji #baji keisuke x reader #tokyo revengers angst

[kitasgloves]

"Bound"

event masterlist

— ♬ "You realize how fine she is. She's just what you've been looking for"

— ♬ Ushijima x Reader, SFW, timeskip, fem reader, strangers to friends to lovers, no beta

Usually, Ushijima Wakatoshi left no room for miscalculation. For a long time, he lived with logic and facts. He made no unnecessary actions and did what he thought was fit. He received comments calling him some robot, he understood where it came from but never understood if it was supposed to be a form of insult or harmless teasing. Nonetheless, he paid no attention to it. On the other hand, Ushijima received countless compliments regarding his looks and appreciated it to a certain extent. However, others had way more time in their hands to waste screaming deranged sentences about how they were 'down bad' or 'thirsting' over his physical physic. Ushijima doesn't want to elaborate further on how he felt about those sides of his fanbase.

The athlete had a stable support system from his father and friends, he's endlessly grateful for their support. Ushijima found himself contented with the people he surrounded himself with, he wasn't the kind to linger in crowds but rather the crowd tended to linger around him. After all, he was a famous athlete so he thought it was natural. People often approaching him for photos or autographs wasn't out of the norm but when you decided to approach him one evening, Ushijima was admittedly astonished.

"Hello"

You started with a mere hello. Ushijima peered to his left and saw you standing there with your glimmering dress and lipgloss shining under the chandelier lights. Tonight was an official gathering for Volleyball athletes, the program ended thirty-five minutes ago and everyone was free to scatter around and enjoy the evening. Fortunately, interviewers or the annoying paparazzi weren't allowed inside the venue.

"Hello"

Ushijima greeted back, he thought it was only polite. He didn't recognize you so you weren't an athlete, perhaps you were one of the staff, or maybe one of the organizers of the event.

"I'm [Name] [Surname]"

"Ushijima Wakatoshi"

"Oh, I know. Everybody knows the famous UshiWaka"

Then he learns your name and he instinctively replies with his. Of course, you knew him and he's used to people knowing who he was. Fame doesn't phase him. But what strikes him as perplexed is why you have decided to approach him.

"Would you like an autograph or a photo?"

"Oh, no thank you! I was wondering if you fancy chatting with me"

"Hm"

He hummed, it was harmless. He finishes his champagne and waits for you to talk, but you only stare at him through your thick lashes and sweet smile. Were you waiting for him to speak first? Now, he has no problem with that but he has to admit that he doesn't do it often. Ushijima adjusts his collar and clears his throat.

"How are you finding this evening?"

"Great! I hope you enjoyed your time here"

"Everything is well"

You nodded but didn't reply after. Ushijima finds it odd that his mind is scrambling to keep the conversation alive knowing he could stop talking if he wishes to and wait for you to walk away. But somehow, he doesn't want you to leave. So, the athlete racks his clever mind for anything to say to make you stay longer.

"Do you like chocolates, [Surname]-san?"

"Yes, I do"

"What do you think about volleyball?"

"I think it's a fantastic sport"

He asks you innocent questions to get you to open up and surprisingly it keeps the conversation going. Later, you start spurring hilarious stories about your friends and he'll take note of every detail. You'd share about the music you listen to and he finds your music taste similar to his as he'd share his input about his favorite songs. You and he talked and talked until the venue slowly emptied. You found your cue to leave but Ushijima frowns at that, he insists on walking you out and calling a ride for you.

"You're incredibly sweet, Ushijima-san"

"You can call me Wakatoshi"

"Okay, Wakatoshi"

You winked and Ushijima felt his chest flutter. He opened the car door for you as you waved him goodbye. He wonders when will he see you again because he keeps thinking about you until his head rests on his pillow. He had no idea where to contact you until he brought your name up to Kuroo Tetsuro and by his luck, you happened to be his co-worker. Ushijima had a hold on your number within seconds thanks to Kuroo.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"This is Wakatoshi"

Ushijima can hear you gasping and falling out of your chair dramatically. There were a few chaotic noises on the other line until he heard your voice again. His chest flutters like it did previously.

"Hi! Did you need something? How did you get my number"

"I got it from Kuroo"

"That sly cat"

"I was wondering if you're free to eat dinner with me tomorrow evening"

"You want to eat dinner with me...?"

"Yes"

"Oh, what an honor! Sure! I'll go"

Your answer makes the corner of Ushijima's lips quirk up, it was so unusual that even he was taken aback. He consulted with Tendou Satori afterward via phone call and told him everything, he asked if he did the right thing. His best friend only laughs.

"Just whatever makes your heartbeat go faster, Wakatoshi-kun"

Ushijima didn't understand it at first but when he finally sees you that evening, his heartbeat spikes up. You were wearing one of those dresses that makes him gulp. When you wrap your hand around his arm and go inside the restaurant, Ushijima gets the similar feeling he gets when he's playing on the volleyball court. During dinner, he notices your finer qualities. And the magic of your rare personality.

When dinner is finished, Ushijima lends you his coat when the evening gets windy. You keep his coat until he takes you home. That evening you reached to the tip of your toes to peck him on the cheek before softly shutting your door. Ushijima stood in front of the door, rigid. His hand creeps up to his cheek where you have kissed him. Suddenly, his face feels warm and his chest palpitates wildly. If he hadn't known any better, he thinks he's going down with something.

But he knew what this was. He has read the shoujo mangas Tendou was recommending to him and watched the romcoms available on his television. Ushijima was falling in love. It seemed so foreign yet natural to experience it for the first time. He never prioritized romance during his high school days, having a girlfriend never crossed his mind. However, when you came into the picture, he thought he wouldn't mind having you as his girlfriend.

Ushijima takes his time to woo you, to see if you could return his feelings. He took you to meet his friends, he asked you to have dinner with his father, and he'd even gone far as to bring you to Paris with him to visit Tendou. On the trip back to the country, Ushijima knew he was head over heels for you. He asks what your sign is and he'll find you two are compatible. He realizes how fine you are. You were just what he was looking for.

Everything you did affected him greatly, you plagued his mind with your smile and scent, and he couldn't imagine another lifetime where he didn't meet you. So, as he asked you out on an aquarium date, he specified it was a date and not just one of your random hangouts, and you said yes, Ushijima felt so happy that he could do twenty sets of a volleyball match.

His cheeks ached from smiling as you pointed out every sea creature you saw and yelled out its name. His phone gallery was filled with pictures of you at that moment. When he admires the colorful jellyfish with you, he sucks in a breath and snakes a hand around your back. His heart skips a beat when you lean against him.

"Isn't this nice?"

"It is. I want to do this with you all the time"

"Me too, 'Toshi"

"[Name]?"

"Yeah?"

"I like you"

You turn your head to face him and giggle. Ushijima couldn't deny it, he was bound to falling in love. He was bound to falling in love with you.

"I like you too, 'Toshi"

"So, will you be my girlfriend"

"Of course, ya goofball!"

When Ushijima looks at you it is visible in his eyes. He was beyond lovestruck with you. From the tenderness in his features and the brightness of his smile. His heart wouldn't have wanted it any other way. 

©kitasgloves (do not steal or copy)

#— ♬ ©kitasgloves #haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x reader #ushijima x you #ushijima x y/n #Spotify

[blegh-110]

ii. "you told me i was pretty when i looked like a mess" | Sam Monroe

Pairing: older brother's best friend!Sam Monroe x fem!reader

Summary: Best friend’s older brother!Sam Monroe who you could always count on when you were 13 and he was 15.

Warnings: None

Word count: 976

Next Part

Your hands shook as you applied some tinted lip balm, the tube almost slipping out of your hand because of the sweat forming. 

It was the night of the school’s winter dance, and you were asked to go with a boy who was in your Spanish class. He sat in front of you and always asked to copy your homework, and you’d oblige because every single time he’d say “you’re amazing” and “what what I do without you?” And the occasional tease, “these better be right, or i'm gonna have to ask someone else.” 

It felt too good to be true when he asked you to go with him to the dance, but he was just so nice to you when you saw him. In the end, it was too good to be true when you overheard his friends ask him why he chose you and not the girl he actually liked. 

“She’s been letting me copy her homework, I thought this could be like a ‘thank you’.” 

“But it’s fucking awkward, none of us know her, our dates don’t either, and she’s not really talking. She's just there.”  

You did feel out of place the entire time. Apparently the girl he liked was friends with the other guys dates, they all ran in the same circle and you were the odd one out. While they had their inside jokes and well established friendships, you barely knew your own date. And he didn’t really bother to include you. So you did end up just sitting and listening and wishing you could partake. 

The second you found out his true reasoning to ask you out, the tears came and you wanted to go home. But how? Your date’s mother was the one to drop everyone off. Your brother was out with his girlfriend, and you knew he’d be pissed if he had to leave and pick up his crying, little sister. And the last thing you wanted was to get bombarded with questions from your parents if you did go home so early. 

You called the only person you could think of. You weren’t sure what the plan was, but you just didn’t want to be alone. 

And just seeing him, someone who you feel safe in the presence of, you run into his arms and let the tears flow. It was hard to make out from your watery explanation, but he understood what happened and held you just a little tighter. Despite his anger, there was nothing he could do. They were still in middle school and Sam was a sophmore in high school, he’d look like the loser if he went inside and beat up a kid two years younger than him. 

“Oh, god.” You said as you wiped away your tears only to see the blackness from your mascara. You could only wonder how pathetic you look. This was supposed to be a special night, and it had barely begun before it turned into the worst night of your life so far. 

“Stop that, you still look pretty.” He wipes your cheeks with his long sleeve, trying to wipe away your mascara but really just dragging it around. 

“Thanks.” You whisper, not really believing it.  

“No, I’m serious. You got that kind of Courtney Love-Hole look, y’look cool.” He leaned back to get a better look at you and smiled. You loved when he smiled, when he was happy and sweet, especially towards you. And in the moonlight, he was even more handsome.

With it being winter and cold outside, Sam gave you his jacket and slung his arm around you as he began to walk you home. You thought you could die at that very moment and be the happiest girl in the world. 

“So what should I do to whats-his-stupid-fucking-face?” He knew wasn’t going to do anything to the kid, but he wanted to lift your mood. You smiled and shook your head. Honestly, you wanted nothing to do with him but you played along.

“Just punch him real hard in the face, I want it to be swollen and ugly.” 

“Yeah, yeah that’s good. And let’s take his money, I’ll- no listen to me,” he interrupted himself at your snort and continued, “I’ll kick the back of his knees, hold him down, then you take the five dollars out of his pocket, got it?” 

You giggled as you imagined it, kicking the back of his knees. You saw him do it to your brother after he slapped the sunburn on your shoulder and that was the most you had ever laughed. You’ll never forget your brother’s shock and pointed finger to the smaller slap mark on his back, “she did it to me first, look!”

“Nah, she wouldn’t do that.” 

“And we’ll get hot chocolate with the money.” And he pointed to your favorite cafe and walked towards it. 

“Sam, wait, I don’t have any money on me right now.”

“That’s okay, it’s on me. Something good has to come out of tonight.” He dragged you to the building, and in there he bought you a hot chocolate with extra milk. Which was something you appreciated because you burned your tongue really bad drinking your hot chocolate a few weeks ago and he saw. 

What followed was some talking about movies, music, and embarrassing stories(your favorite one being that he fell off his chair in class because he was leaning backwards). Then a trip to the park where you two spun on the merry-go-round until you couldn’t see straight or stop laughing. 

And when he finally took you home, he gave you a short peck to your head and wished you a good night. It was that moment you believed he liked you as well, and you dreamed of what it would be like to be boyfriend/girlfriend with him.

banner by @dollywons

#hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen fanfiction #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x fem reader #sam monroe #sam monroe x you #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe imagine #sam monroe x y/n #hayden christensen x y/n #sam monroe fanfiction #life as a house

[slaybestieslay946]

uhhh you asked for requests SO luke x fem reader where she joins him with kronos pls😓🙏

thank you for ur request, sorry it took kind of a long time to get to it! i took it in kind of a dark/tragic direction, but hope you enjoy anyway!

Revenge, or Justice?

MASTERLIST

word count: 2100

pairing: luke castellan x nemesis!reader

warnings: kind of manipulative behaviour? they're not good people yall!!

a/n: decided to step out of my delusion for five minutes and confront the fact that Luke Castellan is not my perfect little princess :((

I

You understood Luke Castellan, in ways no one else did. 

Around camp, he had always been the golden boy, charming, talented, kind. But you could see through him, and his act. 

As a daughter of Nemesis, you could practically smell the need for revenge. Every time you saw him, it was like a flashing beacon. The twitch of his face each time someone mentioned his quest, or he caught a glimpse of that scar in the mirror. 

The way he tossed and turned in his sleep, waking up from nightmares to stare at the ceiling angrily. 

It was so obvious to you, and you always wondered how no one else saw it. 

For years, you hardly interacted. Your worlds would never collide, even if you understood him better than most people. He probably didn’t even realise you knew his secrets. That was until he approached you up front, a few days after your 18th birthday. 

“Hey, Y/N.” He said as he strode up to your table, greeting you like you were old friends. Which you probably should be, considering you’d shared a cabin together for the past 5 years. 

“Oh, hi.” 

“Mind if I sit here?” He asked, gesturing to the seat opposite you. 

You shrugged noncommittally. 

“So, what’s up?” You asked, pushing your food around your plate. 

“Nothing really.” He was obviously lying. 

“Why are you here then?”

“Do you not want me here?”

“I never said that. I was just wondering why you’re suddenly showing an interest when we’ve never spoken to each other before.” You explained calmly, you didn’t sound bitter about it, because you weren’t. 

“Hm, that’s true.” He muttered, resting his chin on his palm, “I suppose I just wanted to ask you what you think of it all.”

“All of what?”

“Camp. Life. Whatever.” 

“This place? It’s alright. I’ve been in worse places.”

“Hm, that’s true.” He mumbled, seeming slightly lost in thought, as if trying to decode your answer. 

“Luke, can you please just cut to the chase? What do you want to ask me?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it, sorry for bothering you.” He said, and quickly stood up, walking away in such a hurry that he left his tray behind. 

That first interaction confirmed all of your suspicions, Luke Castellan was hiding something, and you were going to find out what that was. 

II

Eventually, you managed to get it out of him. You cornered him in the woods one day after the campfire, and demanded to know what he was plotting. Of course, you couldn’t have known that he would declare his hatred for the gods and how he wished they could be overthrown, but it wasn’t exactly surprising. You’d always known something was off about the boy, even when you couldn’t properly pinpoint it. 

“I just, I thought you’d understand, y’know-”

“‘Cause I’m the daughter of revenge?”

“Well, yes, but also-”

“No, you're right. I do understand. The gods have treated me like shit my whole life. They dump us minor children in your cabin, along with all the ones they’re too ashamed to claim. And all you major children, you're treated like you don’t exist, probably because there are too many of you to count.” You explained, looking directly at him. 

He returned your gaze, and in his eyes you saw the realisation that you knew him better than he ever thought. And that he knew you in return. 

“I always saw you looking at me, did you know?” He asked, not breaking eye contact. 

“That you were the same as me? I had a feeling. Ever since you came back from the quest you seemed different. Angrier.”

“Huh. I didn’t think I was so obvious.” 

“You weren’t. I just know a want for revenge when I see it. It’s in my blood.”

“You didn’t see anything then, because I don’t want revenge. I want justice.”

“Same difference, Castellan.”

III

It didn’t take long for you and Luke to begin making plans. He had later confessed to you that they all came from Kronos who had visited him in his dreams, insisting that the only way to overthrow the gods was to resurrect him.

You hadn’t been too happy about that. You didn’t like the gods, but that didn’t mean the titans would be any better. But Luke assured you he was only using Kronos, stringing him along to help achieve your joint goal. 

Did you believe him? You believed that was his intention, but whether he could actually execute that was a different matter entirely. 

Despite your slight reservations, you still chose to help Luke with his main plan, which was to steal the master bolt. 

Strategising wasn’t exactly your biggest strength, but luckily Luke had learnt a thing or two from Annabeth, and he was able to formulate the plot to steal Zeus’ bolt during the winter solstice. It was something which suited him, being the son of thieves. 

Meanwhile, it seemed your main role was to be his emotional support. You weren’t overly thrilled about it, but if it helped to achieve your end goal, you could deal with it. 

Soon you realised just how necessary you were to Luke’s plan. He would’ve certainly cracked by now if you weren’t there to reassure him that what he was doing was right. As much as he seemed solid in his convictions, you could tell that without Kronos nudging him, he would never have acted on any of them. 

Although, if it weren’t for Luke, you wouldn’t have either. 

“Do you trust me, Y/N?” He would ask as you went over the plan once again, desperate for some kind of validation. 

“Yes. I trust you a lot. You can do this.” 

“And we’re right to do this?” 

“Yes. You want justice, remember?”

“Yeah. That’s what I want.”

He preferred it when you called it justice and not revenge. He was still so righteous in some ways. Old habits die hard. 

IV

Luke only truly proved his dedication to the plan when he was revealed as the thief. He abandoned his sister and betrayed all of camp for the cause, and as you both fell through the portal backbiter had created, your trust in him was cemented. 

You were in it for the long haul now, there was no going back. And as sad as you were to see Annabeth’s poor little face, you were more disappointed that she hadn’t understood. You’d thought she was a smart girl, so how could she not see that what you and Luke were doing was right?

The next few months were rough, and it took you back to the old days when you were alone and on the run. Except this time you had someone beside you each step of the way. During that time was when you stopped seeing Luke as merely an ally that you tolerated, and more of a friend you trusted. 

He was strong and intelligent, and more firm about his convictions than ever before. And each day, your certainty that you made the right choice grew and grew. You hoped your mother was proud. 

Luke was right. You were fighting for justice. Justice for the minor gods and their children who were constantly overlooked. 

But equally you understood a large part of your decision to go against the gods had been about selfish revenge. And you were ok with that. Revenge was your thing, it always had been. 

V

Over time, your feelings for Luke continued to grow, and you could tell he felt the same way. You’d always been able to read him like a book, and you didn’t know if that was because you were good with people, or because he laid his soul bare to you. 

You hoped it was the latter, and as he hugged you to his side during rough nights on the Princess Andromeda, you knew all your hopes had come true. 

But you also knew that any ‘love’ was just a footnote in your stories. You were both much more focused on your goals. 

This time, it was ‘your’ plan that was put into practice. Kronos wanted to revive Thalia, to put another demigod into play that could fulfil the prophecy. But it was your idea to poison the tree and allow the campers to retrieve the golden fleece for you. 

After all, you knew every demigod wanted glory, to appease their parents. What better way to goad them into doing your dirty work than with the promise of a great quest?

You were pleased to finally have a proper role in the planning, and you realised that this was your greatest strength, understanding people. 

After all, it was what had led you to Luke, and now what allowed you to aid Kronos, and it worked. You were one step closer to realising your dream. 

XI

Luke had been distant ever since he found out Thalia was alive again. He suddenly seemed conflicted, torn between past and present. 

You had always thought it would be Annabeth that came between him and his goal, but it seemed Thalia was the real problem. 

He was determined to recruit her too, insisting that she’d fit in perfectly, and that she was certain to see things his way. You weren’t so sure. In your eyes, Thalia would only serve as a distraction for Luke, something to pull him away from his work. And something to pull him away from you. 

You’d always thought that it would be just you and him. That you needed each other, in a way that went deeper than a silly teen romance. You understood him, you always had. When you looked into his eyes, you saw yourself, your ideals, your future, reflected back at you. And you thought it was the same for him. 

But apparently not, apparently you didn’t know him best. She did. 

“Are you sure you want to recruit her, Luke? What if something happens?”

“Like what?” He asked, his voice derisive and mocking.

“Oh, I don’t know, her saying no and then running you through?” 

“She won’t say no.” He said firmly, brushing you off once more. 

So when you heard Luke was injured, your immediate thought was that Thalia had run him through. And, of course, you were right.

Ethan, your half-brother, had brought him to you, back to the Princess Andromeda, and as twisted as it was, the first thing you wanted to say was I told you so. 

That was of course, until you saw his broken body in the infirmary, and all thoughts of anger were forgotten. 

“Oh, god, are you okay? Please tell me you're okay.” You cried, rushing over to him, and crouching beside his bed. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll survive. Just please don’t say ‘I told you so’ yet.”

“Okay soldier,” You responded, your voice so choked with emotion that you couldn’t help but let the term of endearment slip out.

“Do you-” He paused to take in a deep breath, his body shaking as he did so, “Do you still trust me?” 

You nodded furiously. 

“You’ll be with me till the end, won’t you?”

“Of course I will Luke. Till the very end.”

VII

You wonder if you knew then just how it would end. Possibly you did. You were both doomed from the moment he sat down at your table. 

But you kept your promise to him. You stayed with him until the end, you survived through all those months of watching him change from the boy you trusted into the man you feared. 

You stood by and watched as he grew cruel to everyone around him. Normally you were the exception, but you weren’t entirely immune to his scathing words and glances. 

You sat by his body as he bled out, the golden blood of a titan shifting into the red blood of a mortal. And you didn’t resist as you too were taken. 

Sometimes you wondered what your relationship would be like in a world without gods. Or at least one where they cared about their children. 

Would you have even met? Would you care for each other without that common thread of anger running between you? You hoped so. You hoped that your twisted relationship was just a product of circumstance, and that the feelings were real. You hoped that they could have formed without the codependency and the paranoia. 

But the truth was you were from different worlds, tied together by your goals, so desperate to achieve justice. Or revenge. 

And the real tragedy was not your failed love story, but the fact that even after so much sacrifice, you still couldn’t achieve what you wanted. 

A world where you didn’t need to be an archangel of revenge at the age of 18. A world where you could simply live. 

#luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan #pjo #writing #fanfic #angst #not looking good #betrayal

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part XII

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself. There is a mention of a stranger making unwanted advances (it doesn't escalate, but yeah), and light drinking.

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI

----------------------

“It’s too loud.”

“What?” you asked.

“It’s too loud,” Shoko repeated, closer to your ear this time.

You and Shoko had decided to go out for dinner, and after that, she had suggested hitting the closest bar for a quick drink. The loud music, however, was making her wish she had picked a different place.

“Tell Gojo we will head out. There is another place not far from here; he can meet us there” Shoko half-shouted into your ear and then pressed her glass back to her lips. You nodded and took out your phone to send a message to Satoru, who was supposed to be on his way to join you both there.

After a few minutes, it looked like he had not yet checked your chat, so you thought it would be best to call him. You were going to stand up and head outside to make the call when a stranger asked “Sorry, is this seat taken?” He was pointing at the seat next to you at the counter.

You shook your head no, observing the man. He had dark hair, apparently lean but maybe a bit older than you, and was wearing a gray suit; probably a salary man who worked around the area. He took the seat. “Thanks.”

And you thought that was all, but then he spoke again. “Are you here by yourself?”

“I’m here with my friend.” You gestured to Shoko, who gave him a court nod.

The man quickly started a casual conversation with your and soon it turned into him talking too much. Ieiri was focused on her drink listening disinterestedly to him going on about how a drink is nice after a tough day at work. You forced a smile, each reply coming out sharper than a knife.

Shoko took a quick glance at you. It was obvious you wanted to end that conversation.

If he’s trying to hit on them, he’s doing terribly.

“I need to go outside for…” You were standing up, taking advantage of the fact the man had stopped talking to take a sip of his drink, but he moved his hand to reach for yours.

“Finally found you.” You felt an arm wrapping itself around your shoulders. It’s weigh was instantly familiar.

Shoko looked at Satoru. He had not acknowledged her yet as his eyes were on the man keeping you in your seat. She knew how this would go. It was Gojo’s usual behavior, if he saw someone trying to make a move on you, he would stand next to you to stare them down, especially if that person was making you uncomfortable. If they were pushy, Satoru would even play the part of the clingy boyfriend, pulling you close to him, whispering into your ear, just enough to make anyone back off.

The man immediately pulled his hand away from your arm.

Shoko smiled. Wise choice.

Satoru’s stare could be menacing, even over the brim of his glasses. Ieiri had seen it a few times, and she understood why fellow sorcerers both respected him and feared him, and why average men would be easily intimidated by him to the point of refraining from approaching you if he was around. The ones who were not under the impression that you were Satoru’s, would certainly not risk it.

“I was going to call you. Shoko wants to go to somewhere else.” You looked at Gojo.

“Could I get your number before you leave?” the man spoke to you.

Satoru disliked individuals like this. He knew he would find this man disgusting since the moment he spotted him talking to you when he entered the bar. There had been something about the way you were sitting, and how you kept averting your gaze from him that told Satoru you wanted to get out as soon as possible, and when that stranger had tried to touch you, he just had to intervene.

Of course, he knew you could handle yourself just fine, and you were with Shoko. If push ever came to shove, she would step in, he had no doubt. But that did not mean he would not do it if he was able to.

You were looking at the man, ready to refuse his request when you felt Satoru’s gaze on you. If Shoko had been paying more attention, she would have realized that what was going to happen next was not part of the script.

Gojo turned his head to you and leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, except that you turned unexpectedly and his lips ended up meeting yours.

One second, maybe less.

You were surprised, but Satoru did not seem affected at all by the accidental contact. He swiftly turned back to the man and said “Sorry, but our friend wants to leave already.”

The man’s face revealed he had finally taken the hint. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know.”

At least he has the decency to look embarrassed, Satoru thought when the man changed seats, but his arm did not leave you until you were all finally outside.

“Took you long enough to get here.” Shoko looked at Gojo.

He smiled and wrapped an arm around yours and Shoko’s shoulders. “But I made it, didn’t I? Now where do my precious friends want to go?”

***

Shoko guided you to a different bar. The place was quieter but now your head was louder.

One second, maybe less.

You figured Satoru had meant to go for your cheek. It was unnecessary, really; in those type of scenarios, if one of you wanted to help the other out of an awkward situation, you would just decline or stick to each other, whispering loud enough so whoever that was bothering you would get the message.

Kissing your cheek would have been an aggressive way of demonstrating you were (fakely) taken. It was an accident, you repeated to yourself, watching Gojo’s lips move as he talked with Shoko.

You had kissed each other’s cheeks before. It was not that different, and it had been just a second, not even enough to recall how his lips had felt against yours. Why were you giving it so much thought? Was it just curiosity?

Satoru glanced your way and smiled.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

You could not possibly be curious enough to want to kiss him again.

***

“Shoko is home.” You were looking at your phone, specifically at her text saying she had made it home all right.

Satoru only hummed in response and plopped into your couch.

After a few drinks together, Shoko had left you and Satoru. When you decided it was time to call it a day, he walked you home and, unsurprisingly, said he was too tired to go back to his own place.

You observed him. Satoru looked too big for your apartment, and he was never one for trying to take little space. Legs and arms all spread over your couch, making it look small despite being the larger one of the set.

“You look like a starfish.”

A laugh came out of him and you watched his Adam’s apple move. “Good. I always wanted to be a star.”

Satoru expected you give him a smart comeback, but it never happened. He fixed his posture to look at you staring at him.

“Enjoying the view?”

He saw an indescribable expression on your face for a second, and maybe, in a different lighting, he would have noticed a blush on your cheeks.

Huh…

He was not really expecting to get a reaction from you.

“You wish.” With that, you walked to the kitchen.

It did not take long for Gojo to be standing behind you, peeking over your shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

“You are so nosy.” You added half a teaspoon of sugar to the coffee you had poured into your favorite mug.

You felt the hairs on your nape stand on end when Satoru half whispered in your ear “Isn’t it good that I am sometimes, though?” You realized how close he actually was.

Why was it making you nervous? He had always been like this after all.

You recalled the interaction with that man from earlier. Maybe sometimes having a nosy friend was indeed helpful.

“Thank you.” Your voice came out lower than you had intended,

Satoru tried to look at you, but your eyes were fixed on the coffee mug your hands had firmly secured.

“For what you did at the bar,” you continued, turning to him. “I could have handled it, but thanks.”

He remembered that man, and then his expression when he had realized you would not give him your number,

“And sorry about the… the kiss.” A somewhat nervous smile appeared on your face.

That was right, he had kissed you, briefly and accidentally. Only then it dawned on him that he should probably apologize too, even if he believed it was nothing to apologize for.

“You moved.” He was smiling out of nervousness too now. “But don’t mind it. It was barely a kiss.”

Satoru questioned himself. Why did he not want to apologize? He saw you nod. So, he was right, it was barely a kiss.

He went on. “It’s nothing.” But he should probably stop. “In other cultures, friends do it all the time.” Why could he not stop?

You looked a bit confused, processing what he was saying. He had travelled more than you had, so maybe he knew about that, right?

While you were internally debating whether or not he was right, Satoru was facing his own personal battle and was far more confused than you were.

He knew he had not kissed you on purpose, but that did not mean he had never thought of doing it. In his teenage years, he had blamed such desires on his hormones. He was young, too young, and seeing his dear friend blooming before his eyes has nursed strange thoughts in his head back then.

But now, he was an adult man, was he not? Still, more often than he would like to admit, Satoru would entertain those thoughts, and then scold himself for it.

He could not tell you about that, of course not; he was convinced you would be aghast if he ever did. You would consider him a wicked friend.

“Do they?” Your voice was soft, and Satoru remembered how close you were as you did not need to speak louder for him to hear you.

“They do. It’s a way of showing affection, isn’t it?” He saw your gaze slowly drop to his lips. You were leaning in, and he knew he should not give in, but what can you do when you are so close to something you have wanted for so long?

Before he knew it, he had closed the distance.

Satoru’s kiss was longer than the one at the bar, but shorter than you would have liked. At that moment, you thought that maybe people did kiss the way they felt, because no other person had kissed your lips so tenderly before. For a few seconds, you thought he was truly trying to convey his love for you, but then, he pulled away and averted his gaze.

You were the first to break the silence. “That was… different.”

Satoru had stopped because, as gentle as he wanted to be around you, he could feel himself losing control, and there was no way he would ruin a lifelong friendship over a moment of weakness. That assuming he had not ruined it yet.

He could not read your expression and it terrified him. Had you hated it?

“Yeah, different, but...” How could he salvage this? “...We are friends, so it doesn’t mean anything, right?”

You met his eyes and Satoru thought he had made things worse just before seeing the ghost of a smile on your lips. “Yeah… Right.”

That night, you tossed and turned for a while before finally falling asleep, exhausted from overthinking, while Satoru, who always slept better when he stayed over, or so he said, laid on the futon in your room, wide-awake, a bit too aware of your sleeping figure on the bed.

He had replayed the events of the night a hundred times and scolded himself just as many.

He sighed.

That’s why you don’t give in to temptation. You will only end up wanting more.

----------------------

Note: I was lazy on proofreading (but aren't I always?), so, sorry about that. Will go back to hiding now.

Thank you for reading!

Next: Part XIII

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha @zacatecanaaaa @blushhpeachh @astriarose @missesgojosatoru @ba-ks @sukunasleftkneecap @songbirdlully @cole-silas @heijihattorisgf @chokesonspit @hersheyzzz @smolbeanzzz @luciledreamz @avidreadee123 @moonmalice @ratscandaler

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk drabbles #jjk fanfic #jjk #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #gojo fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #pay it no mind #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you

[akutasoda]

together? together.

synopsis - you two continuously deny others who think you are together until you're not so sure yourself.

includes - dan heng, blade, sampo, natasha, jing yuan

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, wc - 616

dan heng ★↷

↪you and dan heng got along very well. not many understood how you had managed to befriend him but you had. and he trusted you alot and you trusted him. but sometimes to outsider's it seemed like you two were more than friends.

↪as sometimes when you were on the astral express with dan heng, someone - mainly march, would make a comment along the lines of if you two were just friends. and every time of you insited you were.

↪but sometimes one of you would think about it for a longer amount of time. are you both really just friends or do you both want to be something more?

'so are you absolutely sure you're not together?'

'i mean... not yet'

'what?'

blade ★↷

↪as a stellaron hunter you tried your best to maintain a healthy work relationship with your co workers. you had to work together anyway. but somewhere along the line to some peoples shock, you and blade seemed to get along quite well.

↪it was a slow friendship at first but you both often seeked out the other during down times in-between missions. which to kafka atleast seemed like something more, just none of you had made the move yet. so to blade's dismay everytime kafka saw you two she would subtly ask if anyone made a move yet.

↪each time was a no. until one day you started seeing what kafka saw, and couldn't help but wonder if maybe one day you would be something more.

sampo ★↷

↪the merchant was known for being overly friendly with everyone. but they were mainly supposed business partners or potential customers. so why would sampo be overly friendly witn you? someone who had no intrest in his schemes. probably because he classed you as an actual friend.

↪you had know the merchant for a while now and everytime he was in trouble he would seek out your residence and stay until the coast is clear. but this little habit made natasha question whether or not you two were just friends.

↪everytime you saw her she asked about and you just said he was just an annoying friend, nothing more. but maybe you were hoping for more.

natasha ★↷

↪you often came by natasha's clinic to offer her a helping hand with patients. you weren't as good as natasha but it did help reduce her workload quite significantly. and she really appreciated your help.

↪sometimes oleg would come round to discuss with natasha about various affair's, and he couldn't help but notice the look natasha held for you. so naturally he asked. but natasha denied it, you two were just friends and coworkers thats it. someone else had asked you as well about how you saw natasha and again you denied any kind of dating misinformation.

↪but sometimes you would catch natasha's stare or sometimes you would wish you had the confidence to ask her what you two were. but maybe one of you would make a move.

jing yuan ★↷

↪you had know the general for a long time. he held a lot of respect for you and vice versa. but over your time knowing jing yuan you met various other people aswell and all of them became slightly confused that you two were just friends.

↪for example, upon meeting tingyun for the first time she mistook you for lovers instead of friends. and had became suspicious of your dismissal and made sure to ask every single time. yanqing also developed this confusion with how mamy times you visited the general.

↪throughout all if this you wondered if you were just friends. and little did you know the general felt the same way. maybe eventually you would be more.

#x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #dan heng x reader #blade x reader #sampo x reader #natasha x reader #jing yuan x reader #x reader

[gretavanlace]

Valtava

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, pain during sex (this is handled gently and lovingly) language, dirty talk, etc.

Everyone thank our dear @jake-kiszkas-smirk for the scene where his head is resting on her stomach. I’ll say no more to avoid spoiling it, but it’s delicious and it was her idea that she so kindly left in my hands. Thank you, you filthy genius, you. I love you madly. Also, I no longer remember who to credit for this pic of Josh, it’s been in my camera roll so long. But I couldn’t not use it for this…that’s dangerously close to sacrilege.

“This scene right here,” Josh speaks over Ray Liotta’s musings, one arm stretched across the back of his couch, the other bent to stroke his thumb along your jawline, absently “This is where Scorsese really stretches his wings. Here we are, watching the heinous discovery of murder after murder while Layla, a song about love and lust, lulls us. We feel both safe and shaky.”

His fingers now wind through your hair, relaxed and warm, with your head in his lap. “I think it serves as a reminder that even ugly can dip its toe into the waters of beautiful, if you squint hard enough.”

He pauses and talks over his own stream of thoughts, “Well, most ugly things, anyway. Someone saw these murders as a necessary evil. Something to ensure the world they had built for themselves, for their families, stayed clean. Someone went home and slept a little easier knowing there was one less heart beating out there ready to turn state's witness on them.”

You nod and hope for him to keep going. The way his mind works fascinates you, as does the unique lilt of his tone, and the excitement that sharpens his gaze when he is ruminating on something that really spins the wheel for the hamster in his brain.

Catering to your unspoken wish, he carries on, “And maybe even the victims were in on the method to the madness, y’know? They chose the life they chose, they understood how quickly loyalty and love can shape- shift into survival and self preservation. Layla helps the audience understand. It marries the beauty and the bloodshed for the people in the seats.” he shakes his head in wonder. “It’s fucking genius.”

“Thought your brother was the big Marty fan?” You ask, studying the perfect cupid's bow of his lips from below.

“Jake?” His eyes are on the screen, but his focus is on you. “Tarantino. I dig the use of his nickname, though. Marty. It makes it seem as if you have him over for dinner regularly.”

“Maybe I do.” You tease.

You earn a smile, but still not his gaze. “And what do you serve?”

Adopting a tone of nonchalance, you shrug, “Usually, we make love until dawn and then share cold spaghettiOs right out of the can.”

“Ah,” He nods seriously, “the opulence. It’s all very grand.”

A comfortable silence wraps itself around you both until you have a thought that pokes to be shared.

“Do you suppose Scorsese might have chosen Layla because of the double-edged sword it also happens to be as a piece? Since Clapton wrote it about his best friend's wife?” You feel a blush heat your cheeks, and immediately wish you hadn’t contributed. He knows so much about film and you know so little.

True to Joshua-form, however, he hushes your unease effortlessly. “Shit! I’d never even considered that. The beauty for Clapton was the ugly for Harrison. God, I’m so in love with the way your mind sees everything that’s invisible to mine.”

I’m so in love with…

He means the ideas in your head, the quiet corners of your thoughts, but it quickens your heart and nudges the butterflies in your stomach to life, nonetheless.

So, you pull yourself up, a thigh nestled on either side of his waist in the blink of a breath.

“Hi.” You long for the timid smile dancing shyly on your lips to morph into something sultry. Something sexy. Something that might flicker the darkened flame, that hides down deep in his belly, to life.”

“Hi.” He grins back, allowing you to wiggle around until you’re comfy in his lap. “If Goodfellas is boring you, I stand zero chance of keeping you entertained, baby love.”

Your fingers worry over the beads looped around his neck and then twist into the soft pink linen of his shirt, finally coming to rest at the button fastened nearest to his throat. Your eyes travel over him, hungry to soak him in. To tuck this image of Josh, so quietly content with you perched above him, away in your heart…a pretty picture to revisit when he inevitably becomes a memory.

What is he thinking? That question seems to occupy your mind more often than any other. He is an enigma. A mystery parading as wide open sunshine.

Intrusive thoughts, cruel and unrelenting, silently bully you. You’ve become quite adept at ignoring them over the years, opting for at least some semblance of normalcy in your quest for a happy, healthy life. Whatever that means.

But these thoughts in particular are cloaked in far too much truth…too many signs pointing to the worst being the obvious…to be easily disregarded.

You want to say these things to him. If only to bask in the assurance you might catch in his reply. But to risk the absence of said reassurance, is a feat too great.

Instead, you begin a tentative roll of your hips as you lean in close to meet his pillowy lips with your own. He tastes of mint, and the IPA he has been nursing, and Josh.

Like always, he indulges the kiss, but stills your hips, and you long to vanish into thin air, leaving nothing more than a coiling wisp of smoke in your wake. The rejection comes with a throbbing ache in your chest. Is your heart truly breaking? Now you’ll be forced to offer it to him in pieces.

And he isn’t the only one to indulge in old habits, because, also like always, you crawl into the safe embrace of humor. “You’re right, Joshua…you’re boring me. Back to the brilliant mind of Marty, my beloved.”

You slide off of him and stretch back out on the couch, focusing on the screen to hide your tear glossed eyes as he gets comfortable behind you.

“Scorsese, you bastard,” he shakes his fist in mock indignation, “how dare you steal the affections of my woman?”

A forced laugh comes out sounding a little too close to a sob. You play it off as best you can. Nothin’ to see here.

Alas, he catches it. And, of course, he won’t leave it alone, though you certainly ask him too.

“What is it, baby? What’s wrong?” He turns you toward him, hovering over you as you lie on your back and long to melt away. “Talk to me.”

“I just— I mean,” death seems of great comfort. “Is it me? Do you not… are you not… am I not pretty enough? Or sexy enough? Or… I don’t know,”

A frown of deep concern furrows his brow as his palms move to cup your face, “What? Are you not…Jesus, baby, of course you are. Fuck, if anything you’re too much. Too pretty, too sweet, too smart, too sexy.”

Your words come quiet and small, quivering with painful vulnerability “Then why?” You close your eyes, and thankfully, he allows you to hide this way.

Exactly what you knew would happen, happens. He lies without lying. “Why, what?” He sounds of feigned confusion. He knows what you mean.

Throat now constricted and pulsing with a wringing pain, you close your eyes tighter, unwilling to bear witness to whatever lie will follow his last. “Why don’t you want me?”

A tear breaches the dam you had hoped was impenetrable. You loathe and curse it.

“Hey, shhh…don’t do that. Don’t cry.” He brushes the tear away and then kisses over the path it took.

“Don’t cry?” You snap. A twinge of regret flares to life within you. You’ve never spoken to him unkindly, and could it be that there’s no going back? Perhaps this is it; the end of the road you’ve been heading inevitably for.

To your great surprise, he laughs. You crack an eyelid open to find it sincere. “So, she’s capable of something other than sugar, spice, and everything nice, after all.”

His hand smooths down your chest - can he feel the violent rattle of your heart as it thrums and beats out of control?

When at last he speaks, there is an edge to his tone you’ve never heard before. It warms you clear through to your curling toes “You think I don’t want you?”

You shrug, all pink cheeks and complete ineloquence.

“Well,” he soothes, drawing gentle patterns upon your temple and forehead, “you should know, that is far from the case.”

But, rather than take the moment further, as he so easily could, as you so desperately want him to, he sinks into an innocent position - resting his cheek on your stomach as you struggle to keep it from rising and falling too rapidly, his eyes, once more, on the screen.

The film drones on; mafia murders and cocaine swirling down flushed toilets. Betrayal and 20/20 hindsight…

…and on you watch, on the surface - in reality, you can think of nothing else other than the weight of his head on your stomach.

There is a dull ache there, inside you, gripping at every nerve ending all at once. He knows what you want, and he very obviously doesn’t want the same thing. He doesn’t want you.

He speaks first, and there’s too much truth in it. He knows you too well. “I need you to stop that.”

“Stop what?” You stupidly offer a tiny shrug, but for what? He isn’t even looking at you.

“Your walls, I can feel you stacking bricks. Stop, or I’ll take a wrecking ball to them.” he pets over your forearm comfortingly. It doesn’t help.

“Alright, Miley,” you toss the joke out like a life preserver for yourself. “Just don’t start licking sledgehammers and we’ll be alright.”

He gives you the softest laugh. It more closely resembles a sigh, “Is it only sledgehammers that you are opposed to me licking?”

Oh.

When he coolly pushes your shirt up and begins dragging his lips, licked slick and warm, around your belly button, you think you might burst into tiny, burning, longing, pieces. God, how you want him.

“You like that, baby love?” He speaks the words melodically into the room like a lullaby, hushed as a priest absolving you of your sins in a darkened confessional.

A whiny hum is all you seem capable of, but it doesn’t look like it matters much to him.

“Yeah?” He’s teasing now, and you think it might kill you. Your hips begin a barely perceptible rock in response. “Can I touch you, sweetheart? Do you want that?”

“Josh, please,” his name is less than a whisper. It’s a plea gasped into the dark, dancing with the flickering glow of the tv as it blinks and changes like lightning.

The warmth of his hand between them causes your thighs to twitch and tremble, but he hovers just above making actual contact. “God, look at you. How could you ever doubt how much I want you? So pretty. Can I touch you here, baby? My pretty, pretty girl.”

With a soft moan, you lift your hips, pressing into his palm. He doesn’t push for words, your body has given him all the consent he needs, and the want in your eyes reiterates.

His mouth is wandering your soft, flushed, stomach as he slides your pants away, gentle and sure, the tip of his tongue bridging the distance between his kisses.

Your hands weave down into his wild curls, comforted by the way they wrap themselves into your touch, spiraling around your fingers as you tug at them and tenderly scratch over his scalp. A particularly sweet drag brings a shiver to life on his shoulders. He groans in appreciation and runs away with another piece of your heart.

“Oh, fuck,” you murmur, surprised and grateful, when at last, he sinks a single finger into your warmth.

Should you at least have the decency to feel shy about the sound it makes? About the way you must be soaking his skin? Perhaps. But you don’t, and judging by the curse he secrets into the still of the night, there isn’t any reason to.

“Does that feel good?” He isn’t taunting you, it’s a genuine question, but there is a hint of a teasing tone there as well, peeking out from around the edges of his words and you think it might just be the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“So good.” You’re whining and writhing beneath him, tiny pouty huffs of breath tumbling off your lips over and over…but you don’t care about that either.

His finger slips out and you mourn it pitifully, until it swirls around your swollen clit, tearing a shaking cry out of your chest. And then, there it is again, filling you as his thumb begins a slick trail of tight circles just right.

“You want more?” Oh god…the way he sounds, the way you feel. He’s setting you further and further on fire with his gentle, decadent, prodding. With his breathy, gingerly obscene questions. Flames - scorching and crackling - lick up inside you. Incinerating as they consume.

“More?” He asks again, rasping the word, wantonly urging you on.

“Yes!” You nod frantically, spreading your legs further. You want him, need him, so badly…coveting the very breath in his lungs for its privilege of being inside him in a way you’ll never know. You long to trickle down into his pores and vanish.

A second finger - they feel longer than they have ever looked - joins the first and then begins a perfect, guiding, curl.

Tucking into that perfect place inside you, he fucks the pads of his fingers against it ever so carefully. Gently spinning your head in every direction.

He rests against your belly as the muscles inside churn and flex beneath his ear, watching intently as his hand fucks away at you. He wonders what it might be like to stretch you to almost breaking. How it would feel to push another finger inside, and then another, and another. When would you tell him to stop? Three? Four? Could you take that burning stretch? Would you relish it and ask for more? Fuck, he hopes so.

But you feel so tight around him…just two fingers full and you’re squeezing like you’ll never let go. He worries, and the pounding pulse of neglect that aches rhythmically in his cock, reminds him that he worries rightly so.

He has always believed you to be the most beautiful thing his eyes have ever had the pleasure of landing upon, but he’s never seen you like this - spread open, soaked and puffy with want. With need…for him. It doesn’t seem possible.

The way you move…fluidly, like ripples chasing over the surface of a placid lake, urging him along with your body. Your gorgeous cunt sucking his fingers in. A goddess, a beckoning siren, an angel…he can’t look away.

Can’t until he hears it, until he feels it, how close you are. Wild, frothing, horses couldn’t keep him from the gift of watching your face as you fall apart. An army of men wouldn’t stand a chance. He wants this moment with you, and he will have it. He wants to make you cum, and he wants to watch your eyes go blurry with it, and so watch he will.

“C’mon, baby…” he goes breathless when his face tilts up to meet yours. You are flushed and panting, lips parted. The soft pink of your tongue just barely visible, blushing like saltwater taffy in your mouth and he wants to lick against it, wants to taste you.

The smallest blips of a sound he can’t describe chase each other out of that beautiful mouth he wants to kiss so badly. Tiny uh’s that shift into gasps of desperation. You’re right there, and he wants it more than you do.

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, he eases his chin into the softness just below your navel, creating a delicious pressure, and crooks his finger so perfectly, pressing and stroking until it feels like you’re floating and the only thing holding you in place is him.

It is celestial. He is every constellation and you are the astronomer, feet held to the ground by gravity, eye pressed against a telescopic lens hopefully, frantic for a glimpse of his wonder.

There is only Josh.

“Almost there, pretty girl,” he nods, gaze glossed with lust and something that looks like love. “You gonna give it to me?”

You are. You’re going to give it to him. You couldn’t stop it now if you tried. Fluttering walls trap him inside you as his stare fixes, unmoving and heated, with yours.

“That’s it, baby love, that’s it.” He urges you on, leads you deeper and deeper, those long, warm, perfect, fingers working you like he’s been there a thousand times before. “Shh, you’re alright. I’m right here, just breathe for me.”

That’s all it takes for you to realize your lungs are burning for a breath you’ve been unknowingly denying them - and with that hissing, hungry, gasp for air, you explode under him.

He watches, mezmorized, as your eyes roll back, teeth clenched like some ethereal, feral creature. It bursts out of you, clear and shimmering, like liquid diamonds, but you don’t know it yet, he can tell…you’re too far gone, and he fucking loves it. He fucking loves you.

He has said it aloud. I love you, sweetheart. I love you so much. I love you.

But that’s the thing that he doesn’t know yet because he’s also too far gone.

You’re quiet, gentle. Sweet, whining whimpers floating out of you as you vibrate and spill.

On your end, you hear the confession of how deeply his feelings run, but you don’t register…it will settle in later and you’ll weep for not saying it back. Though you don’t need to, he knows.

Once you’ve settled, he pushes up until you are eye to eye, lapping your release off his fingers. You’re sweet enough to lick off a whisk like cake batter, and he tells you so…but you can focus on nothing but the shining glint of you that he wears so well.

Shocked by the sheer amount, you blush hard and hot. Burning brighter still when it drips from his hand and lands on your lip. In an act you don’t seem aware of, you lick it away like a raindrop. The very sight of it, the somehow still innocent depravity, weakens him until he is forced to swallow a whine.

“Had I known what I was missing,” he grins lazily, “I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself.”

The confusion sends you crashing back to reality.

“But why stop yourself at all?” Your eyes are so wide and clear. It makes him want to gather you up and keep you safe.

Once more, it crosses his mind that you’re an angel. He wonders where your wings have gone.

“Because, I—“ he falters, shaking his head as if he might rattle his thoughts into place. Finally, he opts to show, not tell, pressing his hips against yours so you can feel him.

And feel him, you do, but only for a moment. He’s so hard you’re cozy from the heat of it through the sweats he was lounging in when you arrived.

You’ve noticed. Of course you have. You’ve stolen a glance or two when he wasn’t looking. How could you not? You’d just always thought, and not to be crass, you’d always just assumed he was a shower, rather than a grower.

Now you aren’t so certain. He felt massive during the short amount of time he was rocking into you.

“You’re thinking very hard, baby love.” He smiles down at you. “Are those thoughts in my favor, or…?”

He trails off and awaits your answer with that Josh-like patience. Rather than speaking, you curl your hands around the waistband of his pants and then cast your eyes up, in silent question.

Nodding the go ahead, he continues watching you closely…studying your reaction as you tug him free.

“Oh, fuck,” the expletive sighs out of you as the tip of his cock - leaking, angry and swollen - slaps up, well above his belly button, with a solid thump.

He’s big. So big. Long and thick, beautifully shaped. Blushing pink at the head, and visibly pulsing under your awestruck scrutiny. You absently wonder how he isn’t light-headed for the amount of blood it must require to bring him to such full attention.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” He explains softly, finally letting you in on the secret of why he’s been so skittish, “And I didn’t want to…”

His confession loses traction as he watches your mouth rather than meeting your gaze.

Your palms reach for him, cupping his angelic face with as much gentleness as the renewed desire racing through your veins will allow. “You didn’t want to what?”

While he searches for the words, you curl your thighs around him and pull him in, moaning out his name like a mantra when you feel him against you, skin to skin.

“God damn, baby…” he rocks his hips closer to yours and then remembers what he’s doing. “I didn’t want to scare you. And I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Yeah, you said that.” You tease, trying to lighten the heavy load of his anxiety.

“I know.” His mouth meets yours, searching out a slow, needful kiss. “But I kept imagining hurting you, and you being too sweet to say so. I’m still imagining it.”

Your tongue licks into his mouth as you wrap your fist around him. “Look at you, Josh,” you smile shyly through a kiss that is anything but shy. “My fingers don’t even touch.”

“Grew up under some power lines.” He teases, relaxing as he pecks along your jaw.

“I want you inside me.” You sound despondent, and feel just as forlorn, the look in his eye warns you may have a fight on your hands.

“Pretty girl,” he tucks himself away and begins kissing a slow, serpentine trail down your body after he flutters your shirt, indicating he wants it off. “I could barely get two fingers in your sweet little pussy. Why don’t you just let me kiss it? Don’t you want to cum on my tongue, hmm? Won’t that feel nice?”

Such filth is a captivating development, and one you like very much…but, you stop him all the same. Grabbing him by the hair with enough force to tilt his head back, pulling his mouth away from your straining nipple, you issue a demand you intend to make sure he fulfills, “I said, inside, Joshua.”

He raises an eyebrow and suppresses a grin of dirty glee. “Joshua?”

Ignoring him, you watch as he licks the pad of his thumb and then arch away from the cushion when he begins a steady, swirling journey over your clit with it. “Gonna make you cum first, love. Again and again. I’m gonna baby this gorgeous cunt until my name is the only word you want in your mouth…and then I want you to fill my mouth.”

“Jesus, Josh…” you’ve never wanted anything more, but you can hardly force the words out to convey just how fucking agreeable you are.

“You want that?” He flicks over you faster and faster, indulging in your pouty, needy cries, praying they never end. “You want to cum in my mouth? Feed me something sweet?”

~

“Easy, baby love,” he coos, whispering to you like you’re a tiny, broken bird, fallen from the nest and afraid. “You’ve got to relax a little more for me.”

“Yeah…” you nod, staring up at him as if he painted your entire world into existence. And maybe he did.

No longer able to count the number of orgasms he’s gifted you with, you feel like liquid silk. Or clay in his palm, happy to be molded to his liking.

“Yeah?” He drops a kiss onto your forehead and pushes in just a hint further, eyes darting up when you hiss with discomfort.

You offer a smile for him to continue and he returns it gently, but the way he’s fighting for breath betrays him. He wants you badly, he’s going slowly mad with the need to bury into your body to the hilt.

His fingertips skate a ticklish trail down the curve of your waist and then grip into your thigh, spreading you open a bit wider.

Both bare now completely to each other for the first time, you’ve given yourself over right there on the couch. The room is silent, save for hushed words and choked breaths twisting languidly through the air, the movie long since over.

He’d wanted to carry you off to the bedroom, but you refused.

You want him here. You want him now.

Palm cradling the back of your head, he brings you forward until your mouth is sucking at his shoulder. “Just like that, sweetheart. Good girl.” His praise flips your stomach. A violent somersault of carnal need. “You just suck and bite all you want. I’m gonna take care of you. You know that, don’t you?”

Nodding urgently against him, you’re far too interested in the marks you're leaving against his overheated skin.

“Words for me, okay?” He coaxes so gently it makes your chest ache.

“You’re going to take care of me.” You mumble through a long lick along his collarbone.

Without reply, he slides in deeper, yet still not much more than the tip rests inside you.

A shocked cry escapes you before you can stifle it and his face snaps up, searching your own for tells of pain that he doesn’t have to look all that closely for. “Baby,” the pet name sings out of him, a soft crooning apology. “Let’s stop, I…”

“No, please!’ The frantic want bubbling up inside you colors your voice and surprises you both, but he masks it well.

“Hush, love. No one’s stopping yet.” he soothes, massaging your hip carefully. Just wisps of touch, but you relax beneath it like a sleepy babe cradled up snug and safe.

You’re not fond of that ‘yet’ he tacked on to the end of his promise.

“Deeper.” Your hips lift, forcing his hand while you gulp down another sound of discomfort.

“Don’t.” His grip is suddenly digging into your waist, no longer careful, but swift and insistent instead. “Let me take my time. Let me be gentle. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He’s right, and you tell him as much as he begins a slow, stuttering journey. Starting and stopping as you writhe with impatience and uncomfortability in his capable hands.

Reaching up, he guides your fingers down until they brush over your sensitive clit. “You take care of this for me, okay, baby? Help me make this easier for my pretty girl…I can’t stand the thought of hurting you.”

“Please, Josh…” you sound a mess, and who gives a damn? “Please!”

You’re right, it’s time. He knows it better than you do. He can wait no more. There isn’t far to go anyway.

Suddenly, with one firm thrust, he drives in all the way to the base, shuddering as you coil around him like a hot, wet, fist. Squeezing harder and tighter and fuck….

“So fucking tight.” He is trembling, fighting the urge to let go already. “It’s like you don’t want to let me go. Pussy so pretty and soft. Like the sweetest thing all dressed in pink. Aren’t you fucking gorgeous?”

Your eyes drift closed, breathing through the last remnants of the biting sting. You’re so full, it feels so good. So right. So completely perfect, you cannot begin to fathom how you’ve lived all these years without him inside you.

“Say it.” He sounds like an angel clawing his way closer and closer to something he can’t survive without any longer.

“What?”

“Tell me you’re gorgeous.” He’s fucking you faster now…and it stings, but it hurts so good you want to feel the burn forever. “Say you’re my beautiful girl. Come on, I wanna know that you know.”

“I—“ your face flares as pink as the cunt he’s currently locked inside

“That’s it, baby love…” he coaxes, pumping into you with long, torturous strokes. “C’mon,”

A little less tentative now - he effortlessly makes you believe - the words finally come “I’m gorgeous.”

He smiles so wide his nose crinkles as he nods and dips his lips to meet your own. “Fuck yes you are. My pretty girl. You’re doing so well, look at you. Just taking and taking and taking me.”

Pulling you up and away from the pillow gently, he guides your line of sight to the sinful image of him gliding in and out of you. His cock, glistening and covered in your unbridled desire - it catches the light and steals your heart. Is it possible to be in love with a cock? Or are you just in love with the man who wields it?

Both. Most definitely, both.

“Look, baby, look…” a quivering huff escapes him. “It’s like coming home. Being inside you is like coming fucking home.”

“Harder,” you beg, winded and lost. He feels so good inside you. Stretched further than you ever thought possible around him, you clench and twist a fist into the throw pillow beneath you until your fingernails threaten to rip it open.

“Just…fuck,” his pretty face buries itself in the crook of your neck with a whimper as he falters. “Just a little.”

The room is hazy and blurred, filled with sounds neither of you can seem to quiet. Each moan and breath filling your head up until you feel feverish. Every groan and gasp pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

Your bodies meet in a sweat glazed dance that causes your teeth to grit together - biting down hard to suppress a scream that he might confuse with pain.

He tucks his own teeth into your throat deeply, growling out a melodic sound that sets you on fire, when the salt of your skin hits his tongue.

A shaky, “I’m gonna cum, baby love…where, baby, where?” Pants out of him with a desperate urgency the moment he releases your skin from his bite.

“Inside…” you plead, clawing at his waist as your thighs lock him in close. “Cum inside me…c’mon. Please,”

“Pretty girl begging for my cum. Begging me to ruin this beautiful little cunt…” he sounds as if he’s talking to himself, like he’s trying to convince himself that you’re real.

“Ruin it, baby,” your palms drift up his back, slow and steady…urging him along gently. “Ruin me.”

A sound so exquisitely angelic rumbles up out of his chest. Deep and primal, but somehow gentle and submissive, like he wants to fall at your feet in veneration of something holy and ancient.

He falls against you, pulling you as close as he can get you, and then draws the scent of your hair in only to feel that much closer. Rocking into you as he slowly comes down and finds himself.

Gathering you in his arms, he lifts you away from the disheveled couch, ignoring you when you protest weakly that you can walk.

A bath is drawn and laced with plain epsom salt to soothe your throbbing muscles. He slips into the steaming water behind you, cradling you as he drags a washcloth over your skin.

Quiet verses of a song you’ve never heard are whispered in your ear as you drift into a light slumber without worry, confident that he will keep your head safe above water.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @thelvnternskeeper @theweightofjake @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sunfl0wer-power @sad1lynn

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van smut #gvf fic #josh kiszka #fanfic #gvf josh #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka smut #josh kiskza fanfic #josh gvf #smut

[sunlightmurdock]

could we get that idea about dbf Jake picking you up from a shitty date maybe? 👀😬

sorry ignore the sound of me screaming it’ll stop eventually bc yess we absolutely can!!

Like I’m imagining that after a really close call, like a really close call involving you having to hide in Jake’s closet in nothing but a g-string while Jake desperately tried to get rid of your drunk father (who had argued with your mother and wanted to crash at Jake’s place for the night), you and Jake had called things quits. It was mutual in the sense that you both had agreed, and mutual in the sense that you were equally miserable without each other.

so just imagine exactly how bad this date would have had to be for you to call Jake… pretty bad. The guy had seemed really nice when you first met him through mutual friends. He had a good job and was funny, not bad looking.

But then you had sat down to dinner with him, and suddenly he was a pig. He didn’t give a damn about a thing you had to say, his jokes were stale and his intentions were clear. He just wanted to fuck. You had tried to brush him off politely, not wanting a fight.

He had picked one anyway. You had a bad feeling about trying to go home by yourself, so, you’d done the first thing you could think of and had texted Jake.

Your date called you a bitch, and a few other choice names, and you had rushed out to Jake’s car with no intention of ever seeing that asshole ever again.

At first, Jake hadn’t known what to say. He had just looked across at you, all dolled up in that pretty dress, and that devastated look on your face. Then, he had wordlessly pulled away from the curb and started the journey home in silence. It was a while before he decided how to start.

“Are you okay?” He had asked quietly.

You inhale deeply and buckle your seatbelt, staring at the footwell instead of turning your head to look at his face. “I will be. He was just an asshole.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for? — It’s not like you said those things.” You sigh, folding your arms over your chest and watching the road ahead of you.

“I’m sorry that you went out with a guy like that,” Jake admits. A muscle in his jaw ticks, the radio plays on between you and he’s got no intention of letting you go home until he says what he needs to say. “I’m sorry that we can’t be together.”

You close your eyes for a moment, thinking of all the times he held you. The ways that he understood you.

He stares ahead at the road, aching in the same way. He still smiles when he thinks about the inside jokes you had. He’s still got the products he bought for you in his bathroom. He’s got the Valentine’s Day card you bought him stashed in his desk at work, for when he has a hard day.

“Yeah, me too.” You agree dejectedly, suddenly wishing you had called a friend instead of Jake. Sitting here with the man who taught you exactly what being loved should feel like, it’s worse than rubbing salt in a wound. It’s like being wounded again, over and over.

Jake swallows softly, glancing across at you. He hesitates, then knocks his blinker and pulls calmly into a gas station.

“Wait here, honey. I’ll just be a second.”

Without looking him in the eye, you nod and start to think about what your love life is going to look like from here on out. How are you supposed to pretend that any guy is ever going to compare to Jake?

While he’s gone, your mind starts to wander back to that night hiding in Jake’s closet. It would have been mortifying if your father had found you, sure. If he was ever going to find out about you and Jake, you would definitely prefer to be clothed when it happened. But, even though he would have been upset, you’re sure he would have gotten over it eventually.

He would have no choice, if he saw the way Jake treated you. If he cared at all about your happiness.

You flinch as the driver’s side door opens again and Jake slides into the seat, with a bouquet of gas station flowers in his hand. Your brows furrow slightly.

“If I’d had more time, I would’ve gone to a florist,” Jake breathes out with a soft shake of his head, passing the mix of flowers across to you. “I’m so sorry about tonight. You deserve a man who knows how special you are.”

Your eyes sting, throat growing tight as you stare at the colours and soft petals in front of you. Finally, you turn your head and look him in the eye for the first time all night. There are a thousand things you could say to him. A hundred more that you need to.

Instead, you sit forwards and press your lips softly to his. It’s not like the first kiss you shared. This one is slow, and chaste, like a goodbye.

But when you pull back and see the way that he’s looking at you, you know that it’s far from it.

#Jake Seresin #dbf!Jake #jake hangman seresin #Jake Seresin smut

[spiritfrvr]

IM NOT HER DAD — ( Mike Schmidt x Teacher Reader )

“ Well I don’t know what you did and how you did it but, Abby is doing good with making new friends. It feels great to see her smile like this ” You said next to him pleased as you both watched Abby play around in the playground.

Mike cherished his sister more than himself considering what happened when he was younger. Although the memories still repeats in his head he tries not to blame himself for what happened to his brother.

And by the looks of it was clear that his motive was to be there for Abby so that way nobody would come for her next and Mike trusted you enough to tell you about his job accident which had you thinking about two things

One, how the hell did he even manage to find that job anyway I mean, did it not click to him when he walked inside the building? Talking animatronics, Closed down even though it was popular? MULTIPLE MISSING KIDS AFTER IT OPEN? was he stupid, probably…

Two, at least they made it out of there alive and, does that explain the missing posters for Abby’s auntie and her babysitter? You will never know what is going through his head not that it’s a bad thing… it’s a situation where sometimes you wish you could.

You saw him nodding his head in agreement and how he was narrowing his eyes down, “ Mike, You okay? ”you asked holding his shoulder with your right hand, “ is this too much for you? ”

After a few seconds, he glanced at Abby then you, and explained to you that He never felt like a Dad to Abby, he knows he’s supposed to be her “ guardian ” but he’s only her brother… not a dad. A lot of times people think he’s her Dad which he doesn’t mind but, it’s a reminder that Abby truly never understood what a family is supposed to be.

You could see why he would feel that way parenthood was thrown onto him and of course, he’s not going to know what to do. No parents understands what to do they just take care of their baby, let them grow up, and next thing you know they’re gone off to do things without you.

“ Mike you may not be her father but that doesn’t make you less of a guardian, you and I both know she loves you a lot and even if you make her mad ” you chuckled “But you’re a great person Mike I trust you will make the right choices”.

Even if Mike hated advice, it seemed like he needed that one.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #x gender neutral reader #fnaf fanfic #Mike Schmidt x gender neutral reader #fnaf movie

[meryldian]

Hiii! This is my first time doing a request. So this is like a hurt-comfort idea. The reader has been like bullied for being like emo ( kinda in a similar style of bills style ) and when bill and the reader are young they become best friends and now when they are older, she’s a rockstar with Tokio hotel and all the people who used to bully her are jealous. 🤭🤭

��˖°. Things do get better ✧˖°. Reader & Platonic! Bill Kaulitz

I sure can!! I love this idea actually <3 It’s something I can realistically see happening knowing how tolerance was back then, and tokio hotel themselves being victims of bullying. Let’s just be happy that things are better! Just like they’d be for you in this scenario

- I wrote this for platonic Bill, but if you wish for a romantic one just shoot me a request. I’m more than happy to work on them <3

Bill and you probably met at school and became one another’s safe person to be honest.

It was comforting to you to have someone that not only understood and loved your style, but shared it in some ways.

Also someone that knew how getting insulted, pushed around and harassed at a place that’s supposed to be safe felt like.

He always understood the need to express your true self and emotions through clothes, music, et cetera. You bet that his eyes were hooked on you from the moment he saw you.

Chunky and studded belts, gravity defying or sleek hair, or some amazing curls that reminded him of Nena. No matter how your physical appearance might be, it was the way that you portrayed and carried yourself that drove Bill to you.

He was probably so shy when approaching you !!

Sadly, you can’t always see the world through rose tinted glasses. The situation at school and around town didn’t get much better after befriending Bill..

Two is better than one; you guys were easy targets for people’s cruelty.

It was the late 90s & early 2000s, acceptance was lacking much more than it is today.

Tom was you guys’s main defender.

He might’ve been embarrassed of his brother’s style from time to time back in the day (Bill talked about this in his book) but he would never turn his back on him.

One time the twins found you all roughed up after some kids thought it was funny to charge at you as a group. They took you to their home, cleaned you up and their mom cooked you guys dinner.

You watched some movies on VHS and music videos on VIVA.

Not going to lie, you probably trauma bonded with Bill a lot. It might’ve been harmful in it’s ways but it genuinely helped you guys get some relief.

Whenever someone would make a comment out of place or physically harm you, Tom would go feral. You actually had to hold him back from getting dangerously physical a couple times.

Exciting the school grounds, running for your life along with the twins was no rare occurrence.

Bill was not scared to fight back either (verbally) but it took much more to get it out of him. He genuinely just wished to forget about them and go back to his safe bubble with you, his twin and the band.

Speaking of the band, Bill must definitely took you in rapidly as your style matched “Devilish” so well.

It was a tough road to stardom but you guys rose to fame practically overnight when your first single as “Tokio Hotel” dropped. (Shamelessly promoting my Growing up with Tokio Hotel series)

At first there wasn’t much change when it came to bullying. Outside of school you were the newest star in Germany. A young icon for teenagers that needed someone to look up to. Back at school, you were still a looser for many.

At least they learned to shut their mouths a minute. They just looked.

But their looks changed. It wasn’t pure mockery anymore. Their stares were full of jealousy because they knew they could never achieve what you did, and no matter how hard they tried they couldn’t take that away from you.

It generated even more hatred, as if “why does the social reject become a star when I’m the popular and normal one”

Shortly after, you needed to show up to class with a bodyguard.

It was ironic how the reject everyone hated suddenly became the centre of attention. For the best and worst. Some adored you and wanted your autograph and photo, cornering you in the halls. On the other side, some were there to harm you because they wanted your downfall.

To go in and out of school along with the twins, you needed high security. Which inevitably set you even more aside from the others.

Thank god you got permission to get out of that hell hole called highschool.

Time passed fast and Tokio Hotel rose to fame like a rocket ship exiting the atmosphere. Quickly, explosively and destructively. You were on top of the world.

Tour after tour, receiving award after award.

There were rough times and mistreatment by the label but, it couldn’t compare to everything you went through prior. Tokio Hotel and the stage were your escape and safe place.

Bill was with you at every step. Writing songs, working on new riffs, comforting you when it got hard. You never quit each other’s side through the years.

You can’t begin to describe the satisfaction of looking down to one of your school bullies in the front row as you were on stage, rocking out with Bill.

Approaching him, flawlessly playing your instrument as he sung. Face to face, happily and freely.

The look on your bully’s face was priceless, pure jealousy and hatred, yet they couldn’t resist the song.

Call it petty, but it felt damn good to shove in their face that you’re thriving while they’re forced to look up at the people they stepped and spit on.

You would never forget their faces, but they would stay in your past. What matters is how you managed to get out of there

If you ever have a bad time remembering those times, Bill will be there for you. His idea of friendly therapy to get over it might not be the most practical; as it is getting wasted and party it out- but gosh does it cheer you up. No matter how much time passes, Bill’s antics will be there to help you.

You always admired how he stayed bright and even when the world crumbled around him.

A good decade later you found yourself getting recognized at a coffee shop in Berlin as you were out of rehearsals for your next tour. It was a little girl with coloured hair and glasses. She told you how she found the band through TikTok and your songs helped her through hard times. Just to look up and see that her parent is the same bitch that made your life miserable so many years ago.

You simply smirked, signing an autograph for the girl and allowing her to take a photo with you.

You could’ve shoved this in your bully’s face, but there’s nothing that will bother them more than showing them how happy, and better you are.

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz x reader #georg listing x reader #gustav schafer x reader #gustav schaefer #tokita #alien #tokio hotel scenarios #tokio hotel imagines #tokio hotel alien

[itaerae]

we can't be friends — zb1

pairing: zerobaseone x reader

synopsis: heartbreak is inevitable, but not everyone is able to move on.

word count: 1k

warnings: mild profanity, mentions of infidelity, drinking, angst, unrequited love, major character death ! (not proofread)

author's notes: i haven't been here in a while, i missed you all !! apologies in advance for the angsty comeback ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

—

jiwoong can't remember the last time he was able to think straight; the memories of you clouding his thoughts. jiwoong wonders where it all went wrong. ten months ago he would get the phone call that haunts him 'till this night. nightmares, he'd awaken with cold sweat dripping down his forehead; the event playing in his mind like a broken record. he remembers your ever so serene expression, the way your skin was already cold to the touch, the feeling of holding you in his arms one last time. looking down at the shot in his hand, he catches a sight of how a singular tear hits the surface of the glass. "fuck." the singular tear lead jiwoong into a sobbing mess.

zhang hao wonders if you've been well. after all, it was his fault for being in this situation. but what was a man supposed to do given his future or his first love. he catches himself staring at your contact on his phone often, too afraid to hit the call button. do you still think about him too ? do you even still remember him ? he can't erase the last time he ever got to see you, standing so close yet so far away. he wishes he could've gone back and wiped those tears off your face. truth is, zhang hao can't move on, not until he finds a way to reverse what he's done.

hanbin knows that he couldn't have done things differently, even if he tried. he couldn't make you view him as more than just a friend. was this just the consequence of growing up together ? he can't help but wonder why you were so blind to see that he's been here the whole time. he wants you tell you, he really does. but hanbin can't muster up the courage to tell you about his feelings; seeing the way your eyes, heart, and mind focused on another guy. hanbin knows it's wrong to wish the worst upon someone, yet the sting in his heart convinces him more than the rational thoughts in his mind.

matthew was at fault, he fucked up, he knew. he didn't deserve to feel this way, he couldn't help it. two weeks ago he was living the life; a stable career and the girl of his dreams. a week ago, he traded the latter away. he didn't mean to, you'd caught him off guard. matthew looked around the room; there in the mirror, he looked at himself. the red mark, still stinging, served as a reminder to matthew. he'd never been so disgusted with himself, choked sobs threatened to rise up his throat; but he knew he didn't deserve to cry. not anymore.

taerae wanted this breakup and you did too, it was mutual. or so he thought, until he couldn't stop thinking about you; often catching him self reminiscing the times you two shared. this was something he should be over, after all, he was the one who initiated it. yet taerae couldn't understand the way his heart clenched when he saw you again a year later, your hand intertwined with someone else. taerae was never a jealous person, so why did he feel this way now after he'd let you go ? it shattered him to see the way you didn't even look back at him, maybe he was hoping for too much.

ricky had rejected you when you first confessed your feelings to him. he wasn't interested at all and you understood. he thought all was good between you two. eventually ricky noticed you weren't around him as much anymore, he didn't want to admit it; he felt a sense of longing. he missed the way you'd take time to greet him or walk with him to classes. he missed the way you'd ask about his day, mad at himself for all the times he pushed you away. ricky didn't want to admit it; he wished he hadn't rejected you, disappointed in himself for not realizing sooner.

gyuvin couldn't help but feel guilty; he was already in a relationship, however his heart told him that he still wanted you. gyuvin had admired you from far away for so long, he felt sadness for his girlfriend; but she wasn't the one he desired. gyuvin wasn't sure why he was with her in the first place, the guilt eating him up near breaking point. it was you who had taken over his mind and heart, it had always been you. he was frustrated with himself, one day he'll manage to tell you the truth; for now he would have to resort to his current life. it was selfish of him, he knew. but what his girlfriend didn't know can't hurt her, right ?

gunwook was crushed. for a moment, he really thought he had you. he'd been yearning and was over the moon when you had confessed you liked him too. that quickly ended. gunwook didn't mean to eavesdrop on you and your friend and quite frankly, he wished he hadn't. it stung, your words crushed him more than he ever imagined. he was so sure that your relationship was solid, it felt surreal. with a heavy heart, clenched fists, and tears threatening to spill; gunwook listened to your last words, confirming he was nothing but a bet to you.

yujin liked you ever since he was little. in his eyes, you were the perfect babysitter; you also happened to be his older sister's best friend. yujin would see you around often, how couldn't he catch feelings for you ? maybe it was a bit delusional of him, but he thought surely you must've liked him too or thought fond of him, why else were you always around ? after years of waiting, yujin finally decided today was the day he wanted to tell you. he sat on the couch, anticipating your arrival, only to have his heart dropped seeing your arm interlocked with a guy. he felt all sort of emotions, betrayal was the biggest one. he was angry at you, angry at himself; yet he couldn't do anything but smile weakly as you introduced this new guy, blood pounding through his head.

taglist: @kpoprhia, @wonswife, @doobinnies, @chewryy, @watamotee33, @sstephenzz, @yuma-is-mine, @suneonu

#zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios #zb1 drabbles #kim jiwoong #zb1 jiwoong #zhang hao #zb1 zhang hao #sung hanbin #zb1 hanbin #seok matthew #zb1 matthew #kim taerae #zb1 taerae #shen ricky #zb1 ricky #kim gyuvin #zb1 gyuvin #park gunwook #zb1 gunwook #han yujin #zb1 yujin

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

I feel bad for Starlo.

Star has a point, idk what the four were ticked off about, there is like 99% chance everyone willingly participated in the trolley problem, based on what we've seen of his behavior thus far it's not like Starlo to be that big of a jerk/drag them by force/yell at them to do it. Ed's words:

he does it because Star asks NICELY

clearly jealous

It genuinely seemed like a fun time/fun roleplay, especially since every day is the same. Like, the five are supposed to be a rowdy and adventures bunch, what exactly did Starlo do wrong, I'm genuinely confused and curious. Except taking a big liking in Clover (his posse should know that this is a big moment for him, according to Blackjack they've known each other since high school and had the same liking for westerns. So they were basically a nerd gang.) Starlo was kind, patient and considerate towards Clover the whole time, even warned Mooch about them not being bandits, taught Clover gun safety, wanted to bring his posse along for a fun time, thanked Ace for telling him about getting Clover a new hat...

Sure, at first he only liked Clover for being a human, but as Ceroba says, that changed and he grew to genuinely care about them, plus I can't help but think Star saw himself in Clover and that's part of the reason he was so proud of them all the time even when they messed up (I'll talk more about this at some point)

What exactly made Ace want to leave the gang? He even said how he doesn't mind "getting run over by the fake train"

he's so nice. says sorry for forgetting the safety goggles even when he was scatterbrained due to his excitement. I love him so much

The only real "faults" (I'll call them temporary faults) I saw in Star during the Wild East section was that he was even more enthusiastic and more proud than usual. But how couldn't he be when he met a member of the species that he has admired for so long because they have real cowboys and sheriffs on the surface (who are seen as brave heroes who deliver justice, while Star canonically feels like a nobody farmer). His posse should have realized Clover wouldn't be there forever and just let their boss enjoy himself with his "deputy who'd have to leave sooner or later anyway"(or be more patient with him/ask him why he feels this strongly towards Clover/if there's a deeper reason for that). His friends including Ceroba just turn their back on him so quickly instead. The moment he's gotten the chance to feel valued for once and put himself first and not have to take care of this whole town and everyone in it and live his dream of meeting a real human, suddenly "his personality is damaged?"

Star's literally built this whole town, organised everything, he worries about everyone, Ceroba (plus was the one to give her emotional strength before and after Clover's sacrifice), Kanako, the monsters, his family, struggles with feelings of worthlessness yet never wipes that smile off his face, always does his best to be hopeful and optimistic and make others laugh, gave his posse a nap time so they don't become exhausted, gave Ceroba a free home, didn't act upon his feelings towards her and was a 110% supportive, caring friend instead. THAT'S who he is. He's the papa bear of this friend group, the glue holding everyone together.

He was just *really* excited. Y'all know he's insecure and just wishes to escape who he is and yet y'all blame him for liking Clover so much. Yeah, the four are very clearly jealous. But why won't the four of you control your feelings for a while? As mentioned, Clover WILL HAVE TO LEAVE EVENTUALLY. They won't be Star's "deputy" forever (the kid who's just as into westerns as he is, who values justice just as much, who also values doing the right thing. Someone he clearly felt understood in the presence of, whom he loved; just look at the way he talks about Clove during Showdown). Star seems genuinely confused of what he did wrong poor guy just wanted to live his fantasy for once and feel important:

Even at the beginning Moray's like "oh no Martlet is upset" Mooch replies "don't be a buzzkill nothing exciting ever happens around here" and Ray's like "Yeah you've got a point"

If you all agreed to have a little fun with a human who will very soon leave forever why is Starlo's enthusiasm such a big problem? If the posse weren't into this after all (unless they were simply too jealous which could have been solved with a honest talk and a little patience) why are you doing this "rowdy" job with Star in the first place? Do you want your boring routine day to day life so much back? Or just for Clover to leave (which they will soon enough)? You, western enthusiasts, literally met a real human, A HUMAN FROM WESTERNS YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PASSIONATELY INTO (clearly not as passionate as Star but passionate ENOUGH to understand where he's coming from).

... okay.

#Like idk if I'm being biased because Star is my favorite character but I kinda just started thinking more and more about this and... yeesh. #Felt like a BIT of an overreaction to blame Starlo this much #No wonder he cracked #and unlike with Ceroba we actually see him do his very best to “fix” what he did “wrong” #i feel so much sympathy for this guy man #WAY more than for Ceroba #sorry fox lady #uty #undertale yellow #starlo uty #uty starlo #like dude literally had to come crawling on his hands and knees for them to forgive him #what “loyal” “supportive” friends they all are #sobbing for star #poor poor man #meanwhile everyone forgave ceroba for much much MUCH worse #she didn't need to burst into tears and beg for forgiveness even though she SHOULD have #everyone forgives her immediately on the spot + she gets a hug from clover #I'm sorry Starlo #like how was he “selfish” and “reckless” #he did something for himself for the 1st time in his life #y'all are reckless too btw #you put yourself first ONCE and they call you selfish #Star had the right to be mad at them for attacking Clover for no reason other than jealousy #wdym he's throwing you around for human business you literally wanted this #he watched the tapes more than 50 times bc that's how much he hates himself #and yet he's still been doing EVERYTHING in his power to be there for EVERYBODY

[elaratyrell]

Poor Unfortunate Souls {Part 2/3 -> Kiss The Girl}

*All images found on Pinterest. Moodboard made by yours truly*

Dark ! Ursula! Aemond x Fem! Eric! Reader x Ariel! Jacaerys

Warnings: Aemond mind controls the reader, sexual dreams, including Aemond touching the reader without clear consent *Divider from Firefly Graphics*

Synopsis: Jacaerys Velaryon, the reluctant heir to Atlantica. The moment he saw you, he knew he would never see someone who could capture him with their beauty again. You would haunt him eternally. In a desperate attempt to meet you, he turns to Aemond Targaryen, an outcast from the merfolk, to help him walk amongst the land dwellers. But when Aemond lays his eyes on you, he knows he has to have you. By any means necessary.

Chapter Synopsis: Jacaerys goes to Aemond for help in becoming human. The banished prince grants him his wish for legs in return for his voice, but has other, darker intentions. For Jacaerys, for Rhaenyra, and for you.

Part One Jace's Ending Aemond's Ending

“Don’t look at me like that. How was I supposed to know they would do that?” Lucerys crossed his arms as Vermax and Syrax glared at him, the former slapping him on the arm with his tail and making the younger prince flinch back from him.

“I didn’t mean to tell!” He exclaimed. “It was an acciden-“

Once again, Syrax clamped his mouth shut between her claw as Vhagar slithered out of Jacaerys’ grotto. Luke felt goosebumps prickle on his skin at the sight of the best, a shudder running down his spine.

The memories were murky at best, but Lucerys still had the odd night terror of the night of Aemond’s banishment. He remembered seeing the knife on the sea floor, Aemond swimming towards him with a sharp, jagged rock in hand. He remembered grabbing the knife as the older prince grabbed him to feed him to Vhagar, and he remembered Aemond’s screams as he blindly slashed the knife wherever he could reach.

He only heard whispers after that. Of the trial, and how the dowager queen Alicent, Aemond’s mother, was the only one to plead her son’s case, and how Rhaenyra didn’t listen.

And how she died several weeks after her favourite son was exiled.

Even Aemond’s siblings knew he’d gone too far. And his grandfather, Otto, had watched with a stony expression as the prince was cast out with nothing and no one except Vhagar.

Lucerys made no effort to follow the beast, that is until Jacaerys also emerged from his destroyed cavern, hot on the eel’s trail.

Not wanting to alert Vhagar to his presence, Luke silently swam up behind Jace, hissing in his ear.

“Where in the seven hells are you going with that… that thing?”

“I’m going to see Aemond.” Jace replied firmly, brushing his brother away.

Luke gasped. “What? Are you crazy, Jace? He… he’s a demon- he’s the devil.” He protested as Vermax swam circles around his friend in protest.

“Well why don’t you go and tell mother and Daemon about it then? You seem to be rather good at that.” Jace retorted, shooting a glare at his brother.

“Jace… I-“

“You should go Luke. I don’t want Vhagar seeing you. Aemond can see and communicate through her.” He interrupted.

Before Luke could make any more protests, Syrax put herself between the two brothers, gesturing for him to leave. She then gestured for Vermax to follow the older prince to where Vhagar was taking him. Despite his hesitation, Luke understood that his life was at risk by being there, which could jeopardise Jace’s even more. Reluctantly, he turned and swam away back to Atlantica. Once he had swam out of sight and Syrax was sure he was obeying her order, she also began chasing after Jace and Vhagar with Vermax.

Jace knew he was taking a risk, and quite possibly risking his life by going to his uncle, but he was desperate. He knew he didn’t belong in this world, and that he was a disgrace of an heir, of a son, to his mother, and so he needed to see if he could find where he belonged.

And he was certain you were the key to that.

Even so, there was a small nagging sensation in the back of his mind as he and Vhagar approached Aemond’s lair. It was the skeleton of an ancient sea monster, an ancestor of creatures like Vhagar, with sapphire blue light seeping out through the gaps in the skeleton like smoke from a chimney.

“This way,” Vhagar rumbled, slithering in through the mouth of the monster. The fact that such a mighty beast as Vhagar looked rather small compared to the skeleton only made Jace that much more uneasy.

And that uneasiness grew as he entered the skeleton. There, on the floor, ceiling and crawling up the sides, were hundreds of grotesque creatures. They were a swamp green, dull yellow eyes watching Jace as he tried to avoid contact them, a look of disgust on his features. They were a garden of all the souls that Aemond had claimed over time, and maybe even others that Alys had done so before him.

There was no doubt the former sea witch was also among them.

Jace let out a yelp of horror as one of the souls lurched forward, wrapping itself around him, frantically trying to stop him from going any further. Unlike the other souls, this one had vibrant green eyes. Another soul that was slightly taller, and older than the first, grabbed ahold of Jace’s tail in a slightly more painful hold than the other soul, also trying to hold him back.

Jace managed to wrestle himself free from the poor souls’ grips, rubbing his wrist from where one of the creatures had grabbed him. He hesitated as Vhagar slithered into the shadows behind a large conch shell, coiling up like a python, her blue eye focused on the prince, watching him as he lingered in the doorway to what seemed to be Aemond’s… work room? He supposed.

There was a large basin- or cauldron, he supposed, in the centre of the room. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with jars and bottles of the most likely vile ingredients for whatever potions or spell Aemond cast to entrap another soul. A desk rested in one corner, a mirror hanging on the wall. The large conch shell that was connected to both the ceiling and the floor seemed to be Aemond’s bed chambers, with Vhagar coiled around it like a guard dog.

And there, stood over the desk, was Aemond.

He had certainly grown since the last time Jace saw him; his silver hair was longer, his face more defined with matured, sharper features. One eye, lilac like his siblings as Jace remembered. But the other had been replaced by a sapphire, glowing brilliantly in the light. There was a scar running through his brow, down to midway down his cheek.

A souvenir of what Lucerys did to him that fateful day.

Nevertheless he resembled the distinctive features of the ancient royal bloodlines, just as his siblings did.

But it was at the waist where they truly differed.

Where his siblings had inherited their father’s genes of having a fish tail, with his older brother Aegon’s glittering gold and black, his sister Helaena’s pale blue and and silver, and his younger brother Daeron’s cobalt and green, Aemond had taken after his mother, and the house of Hightower.

Rather than a fishtail, Aemond had six ebony tentacles, the underside of which were a vibrant blue to match his eye. From his neck hung a shard of what appeared to be dragon glass, an ancient relic from royal ancestors. It glimmered a faint blue against the pale porcelain of his skin.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to linger in doorway, nephew?” Aemond finally spoke, turning to look at Jacaerys, who simply gaped back at him, his mind completely blank and his mouth hung slightly open.

“It is also rude to stare. Hm, one might question your upbringing as a prince of the realm.” Aemond added, moving from the desk to stand in front of the basin, his good eye piercing right through Jace like a knife.

”I- uncle… I am here because-“

“I know why you’re here, nephew,” Aemond interrupted. “I have been watching- well, Vhagar has been watching. You want me to help you with this little infatuation for you have with a human, is that correct.”

There was a small smirk of his features as he spoke, almost in a taunting manner to the younger prince.

“Y-yes. She’s a-“

“Princess. I know.” He rolled his good eye at his nephew, waving his hand over the basin. In a cloud of blue smoke your face appeared above the basin, and Jace stared at it longingly. Perhaps he was a little too entranced by the mere image of your face, that he didn’t see the way his uncle’s eye darkened slightly as he also studied your face, or the way the corner of his lip tugged upwards into a smirk, or the way he gripped the side of the basin that little bit tighter.

“I truly don’t blame you. She is a rather… exquisite… creature…” Aemond murmured. The smirk on his face widened as he felt Jace’s glare burning into him, watching as the younger prince clenched his fists out of the corner of his working eye. He merely chuckled in mild amusement.

“Now, now, nephew. I was merely complimenting your tastes.” He chided. “As for your problem, the solution seems simple enough.”

“I-it does?” Jace asked hopefully, moving forward, closer towards the basin.

“Indeed,” Aemond hummed, waving his hand through your image and making it disappear in a puff of blue smoke. “To get what you want, two options lie in front of you. You could become a human yourself…” he watched the way Jace’s eyes lit up at the first suggestion before continuing. “…Or… I could turn her… into a mermaid-“

“No! I mean… I would prefer to become human, uncle.” Jace interrupted hastily. He hesitated slightly. “Can… can you really do that?” He asked, making Aemond shoot him a small glare. Jace shrank back slightly from him in response.

“Dear, naïve, nephew,” Aemond sighed. “It’s what I do, is it not? I help poor unfortunate merfolk, such as yourself. Those who have no one else to turn to. I admit, in the past I have made a few… errors, shall we say?” Almost subconsciously, one of his hands rose to his face, fingertips brushing against his scar before immediately returning to his side again. “But I can assure you in my exile I have mended my ways. Found my calling. The sea witch, Alys… she taught me.”

“And… and where is she now?” Jace asked shakily.

“She… was needed elsewhere.” He brushed off the question. When a loud screeching wail echoed from the garden of the polyp creatures, a fist slammed down on the rim of the cauldron. “Lyka!” He yelled. [Quiet!]

He cleared his throat, letting out a small breath through his nose before continuing to his nephew in a calmer manner. “Nowadays I have repented. Found my faith, like my mother always wanted me to…”

There was a small glimmer in that lilac eye of his at the thought of Alicent, the only person who ever had faith in him. He had heard of her death of course, and how his grandfather, Otto, had just stood by and done nothing to help.

And for that sin, the former hand of the king was now just another soul in his garden.

“Fortunately in my exile, Alys took me in and taught me her sorcery. And I decided to use it on behalf of those miserable, lonely, depressed… pathetic…” He muttered that last part under his breath, making Vhagar snort in amusement. “Poor, unfortunate souls. Those in pain, or need. They came to me with their troubles, whether it were changing their appearance, or becoming stronger, or helping them find their true love…”

“And… you helped them?”

“Why, of course, dear nephew,” Aemond replied. “Indeed I helped them… although there were those few occasions- they only happened once or twice, no need to look so terrified, nephew, who failed to pay their price to me. You see I need a small token in payment for my services, and I had to… well…”

Jace followed Aemond’s gaze to the hallway of those trapped souls and shuddered.

“I may have had the odd complaint nephew, but I can assure you, I’m certain you can pay your owed debt to me.”

The way Aemond was staring at Jacaerys unnerved him. There was something lingering behind that lilac gaze and that rather tight lipped smile.

“S-so what would my deal be?” Jace asked.

“I will give you three days, nephew. Before the sun sets on the third day, if you get the princess to fall in love with you and seal it with a true love’s kiss, and that's a proper kiss on the lips, mind you, can't make it too easy, you will remain a human permanently. But if you fail to do so, you turn back into a mermaid… and belong… to me.”

Syrax suddenly surged forward to clamp her claws down on Jace’s tail in a feeble attempt to drag him away from the exiled former prince of the realm, but Vhagar’s tail grabbed the crustacean, pulling her away.

”So, nephew,” Aemond drew closer to the prince, extending his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Jace also went to extend his hand, but faltered. “If I become human I… I’ll never see my mother again. Or… or Vermax or Luke or Joffrey. Rhaena, Baela, little Viserys-“

”But you’ll have your princess,” Aemond smirked. “And besides, you certainly don’t belong in this world, hm?”

Jace winced at Aemond’s use of Daemon’s words, yet still hesitated.

“Life is full of tough choices,” Aemond continued with an almost solemn expression, but that small smirk remained, as though taunting Jace. Mocking him.

“I… I guess so I… I should at least try…”

“Oh, and one more thing,” Aemond added, pulling his hand away just as Jace was about to shake it. “We still have to discuss your payment to me, nephew.”

“I-I don’t have any money on me-“

“I rarely require money. It’s often something a little more valuable and substantial than that.”

“But I don’t know if I-“

“I don’t ask for much, just a token.” Aemond’s voice was slightly strained from his nephew’s hesitation, his patience was thinning.

Jace’s gaze trailed to that gleaming sapphire, a sickening thought intruding his mind. Almost as though he could read Jace’s mind, Aemond chuckled.

“No, nephew. I do not require your eye. That debt… is owed by someone else…” He murmured. “No, no, no, nephew. What I require of you… is your voice.” He said it so simply, as though it were like paying the smallest of fees. Jace’s hand instinctively went to his throat.

“My... my voice?“

“Yes. Meaning no more talking, singing, zip.” His lip curled into a smile, but it held no warmth. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. If she likes short, curly haired brunettes then she’ll think you’re a real catch. And besides, there are other ways to attract someone than talking, nephew…”

“W-what do you mean…?” Jace asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Physically.”

“I… oh…” Jace mumbled, staring at the ground as Aemond’s implication dawned on him. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“Many human women don’t appreciate men who drone on and on anyway, nephew. They’ll think you boring. If anything, I’m doing you a favour. They’ll dote and swoon on you if you listen, but don’t talk. So…”

Jace was still simply staring at his uncle, his hand still resting on his neck.

“GIVE ME YOUR VOICE-“ Aemond suddenly exclaimed, surging forward but stopping himself before he could reach Jace. He let out a breath. “Hurry now nephew… make your choice. I’m a very busy man who hasn’t got all day to wait for you to make your decision… it won’t cost much. Just your little voice.” His words were still sharp, but were spoken in a more softer tone after his outburst.

“I… uh…”

“If you want to cross that bridge and find your lady love, you’re going to have to pay the toll… if not… you know where to leave.” He turned away from Jacaerys to pet Vhagar.

Jacaerys weighed his options in his mind. He could leave the very home he always had to try and find a place of belonging… to find you… or he could stay, and although he would be able to speak and be with his family, was that really where his heart truly lied?

“Alright!” Jace exclaimed, making Aemond turn back to face him. “Alright I… I’ll do it…”

Another tug at his tail made him glance behind him to see Vermax frantically trying to pull him away from Aemond, but he ignored it, flapping his tail and forcing the fish to let go of him. He swam from forward towards Aemond before Vermax or Syrax, could try to grab him again.

“Wonderful…” Aemond smirked, his teeth glinting in the dim light. With a snap of his fingers numerous bottles, jars and other various containers lifted themselves from their place on the shelves hung on the walls of the skeleton and floated down to the cauldron, which by this point was billowing blue smoke.

”Now, nephew,” Aemond said, conjuring a glowing, golden scroll in front of Jace. “You must sign the contract. Merely outlining the terms of our deal as a way so I keep my payments up to date. You know how cunning some merfolk can be… not that I would ever believe that of you but…” He pressed a fish bone quill into his nephew’s hand. “You can never be too careful.”

Jace tried to steady his trembling hand as he raised the quill to the scroll. Aemond retreated back, smirking down at Vhagar as Jace sighed his name. No sooner than he did so, the scroll rolled up by itself and vanished along with the quill.

Aemond closed his eyes, his hands cast over the cauldron, the blue smoke concealing him from Jace’s view as he murmured in high Valyrian under his breath. Jace felt himself retreating as the plumes of smoke began reaching out to him. It surrounded him, and two further tendrils in the shape of spindly blue hands burst upwards from the cauldron, illuminating Aemond in a sapphire light that only made his eye glow brighter. Jace wanted to flee in that moment, swim as fast as his tail could move him back home to Rhaenyra, to the safety of the palace walls, but Aemond had him trapped now.

“Sing, nephew.” Aemond ordered. “Sing!”

And so Jacaerys complied with the sea sorcerer’s command, singing the first song that came into his mind, the song he’d known off by heart from a young age.

The song he’d sung to you.

He resisted every urge not the falter in his song as those ghostly hands advanced towards him. One hand wrapped around his middle to stop him moving, and the other reached down into his throat. It felt at though he were being choked, and then as something was being ripped out from within him as the hand drew back, holding his voice.

Immediately, Jace reached up to his throat, he couldn’t feel anything. It felt like he were frozen in fear and couldn’t even make out a whisper. The smoke circling him at this point was spinning around him like a glowing whirlpool, whipping faster and closer around him as Aemond grabbed the glowing golden orb from those hands, entrapping it in the pendant hanging from his neck.

The smile he gave Jace sent a chill down his spine.

“It’s done.”

The whirlpool surrounding Jace had completely entrapped him within its clutches, holding him in place as a searing pain shot through his tail, like someone was cutting it in half. He writhed in pain as his tail split into two, his scales shedding to reveal human flesh beneath. It felt like ripping a scab off and exposing the raw skin beneath to the air. He ground his teeth together in a suppressed groan as another shudder of pain shot through him, this time his tail fins being changed into feet.

It didn’t help that all he could hear through the pain was Aemond laughing at his suffering in an almost maniacal way.

The burning pain subsided as Jace stared down at his newly formed legs, the whirlpool dissipating in an instant. Jace’s hand immediately flew to his neck as water filled his lungs.

He couldn’t breathe.

He found himself looking desperately to Aemond for help, but his uncle merely smiled.

Rather frantically, he kicked his new legs and flailed his arms to try and propel himself up to the surface.

He looked down to see Vermax holding one of his arms, Syrax on the other, helping him kick upwards. His eyes drooped slightly, his mind foggy and vision blurry as continued to kick, the surface lit in the early morning glow of sunrise acting like a beacon.

Jace let out a choked gasp as he finally broke through the ocean’s surface, feeling the sun’s warmth on his skin for the first time.

As he caught his breath, Syrax and Vermax keeping him afloat as they swam him inshore, he looked up at the sky, painted in gold and orange as the dawn rose with the morning.

Gripping ahold of a rock jagging outwards to the sky, Jace couldn’t help but smile as he felt the warmth of the sun on his skin, the sea breeze ruffling his damp chestnut curls. Leaning back against the rock in the shallows, he glanced upwards to see your castle in the distance.

You were so close.

All he needed was to learn how to walk… and to find some clothes.

He brushed his curls out of his eyes, raising an eyebrow at the glares Syrax and Vermax were both sending his way. Ignoring them, he raised one of his legs out of the water, gazing in pure wonder as he wiggled his toes, letting out a silent laugh.

Syrax and Vermax didn’t return his amusement.

A loud squawk sounded from the sky as Cannibal landed on Jace’s extended leg. The bird tilted his head, as though trying to figure out what had changed about the young prince. He raised a wing, gesturing towards Jace’s hair, getting an amused shake in response. Cannibal then mimed using what had been dubbed “the dinglehopper”- which was, in fact, just a fork- on his feathered, which received the same response of no.

Syrax hopped from the rock beside Jace and onto his leg alongside Cannibal, pointing down at his leg. Cannibal glanced once again at Jace’s leg, letting out a squawk of realisation, jumping into the air to hover above Jace’s head, flying around in circles and letting out screech after screech of disbelief. Jace shook with a silent laugh at the bird’s clueless antics, highly amused by his stupidity and Syrax’s annoyance.

Three days…

He needed a kiss from you in three days…

He could do that… hopefully.

No, he could do that. He will. He knows you, he knows you yearn for the same things as he does. He’s certain you’re the one for him.

A steely determination was set in those chocolate eyes of his as he braced a hand on the rock, slowly rising to his feet on wobbling legs. He drew his hand away from the rock behind him, only to immediately fall over into the water.

Sitting back up and letting out a spluttering cough, he was greeted with Syrax shaking her head at him, earning a roll of his eyes in response. Jumping back in outrage, she extended a claw out at him before pointing it out to the ocean. When he shook his head adamantly, she immediately leaped off the rock and into the sea, no doubt to go and immediately alert Rhaenyra of the situation.

Jace surged forward in alarm, picking the crab up and holding her in his hands, continuing to shake his head rather frantically as Syrax continued jabbing her claw out into the sea. He sent her a pleading look, his warm eyes only saying one thing to her.

Please. Please don’t tell her.

Dropping her claw, she shook her head again, scuttling up his arm to get back to the rock, where she promptly turned her back on him as though she were sulking.

Jacaerys had always told his mother that she spoiled Syrax too much. Smiling, he leaned down press a kiss to the top of her head, making her cross her claws over one another. She was still glaring at him, but it was softer.

A loud caw made Syrax jump back slightly as Cannibal suddenly landed beside her, clutching a torn sail in his beak.

Meanwhile, you had decided to take an early morning walk with Max. You hadn’t been sleeping well since your near drowning incident. For one, you hadn’t been able to get that beautiful melody and voice out of your head, and two, you’d been having dreams since then. You wouldn’t remember them when you awoke, except for a piercing blue jewel that haunted your thoughts. You didn’t know it’s significance, but you couldn’t quite shake it from your mind.

You played the small melody you remembered on your flute, your brows furrowed as you desperately searched every corner of your mind for a face that might match the voice.

Yet all you saw was that blue sapphire.

You let out a rather frustrated sigh, looking down at Max. “That voice. I can’t get it out of my head, Max,” You muttered. “I’ve looked everywhere. Sent word across the kingdom, and yet I’ve found… absolutely nothing.” You groaned, putting your flute in your pocket as you walked along the cove.

Max sniffed the air, letting out a small bark.

“What is it? Max- Max!” You cried out as your dog suddenly bolted down the beach. Letting out a small sigh, you ran after him.

Even though Max had disappeared from sight, you were able to track him down by the excited barking your can hear. He’d clearly found something- or someone.

Upon seeing you turn the corner, Max ran back over to your excitedly, jumping up and licking your face, letting out another excited bark.

“Quiet, Max. Gods, what has gotten into you- down, boy.”

Whilst obeying your orders, your pet had still not lost his excited nature, now eagerly tugging at your trouser leg to drag you over to wherever he had found what was so interesting.

“Max, stop. Why are you so- oh.” You stopped, slightly startled as you looked up to see you were being watched. “Oh, I see… it’s alright, boy.” You patted his head, taking a step towards where Jace was hidden slightly behind a rock. “Hi there. Are you okay? I know he may seem kind of intimidating but he’s quite the opposite. I’m sorry if he scared you.”

All Jace did was stare at you in return, a small, almost shy smile on his face. You were dressed in a similar outfit to the one he first saw you in- a white linen shirt, black trousers and black boots. You hair was loose, and was ruffling slightly in the early morning sea breeze.

As you looked at him, your brows furrowed. There was something almost familiar about those deep brown eyes and that charming smile.

“You… seem kind of… familiar… have we… have we met before?” You asked almost hesitantly.

Jace’s face lit up, enthusiastically nodding in response as he grabbed your hand. You looked down, feeling the soft warmth of his skin. It felt… familiar. He looked familiar…

“I knew it. I knew you looked familiar. I- I’ve been looking for you,” you smiled at him, giving his hand a small squeeze as Max excitedly barked. “What’s your name?”

Jace opened his mouth, but when he tried to speak, it felt like his throat was on fire. His smile fell slightly, his free hand moving to his throat.

“W-what’s wrong? Can’t… can’t you speak?” You asked, earning a shake in response.

Frowning, you took your hand away from his, ignoring the snort Max let out. It had felt like you might have found your mystery saviour… but you were mistaken. All the same, it was unclear why this mysterious man had seemed so excited to see you. Maybe he just knew you were the princess?

“Well, I guess you weren’t who I thought-” You suddenly stopped, seemingly only just realising that Jace was wearing nothing, save for a torn sail wrapped around his waist, held in place by a rope that was tied rather precariously.

You flushed slightly, giving him a sweeping glance. Although he may not be who you had hoped, the young man was surely handsome. A strong jaw, long brown curls and warm chestnut eyes. He had a well defined torso and strong arms, although his legs seemed to be shaking slightly from where he was leaning against the rock.

“Are you hurt?” You asked, and Jace shook his head in response. He waved his arm around in an almost pantomiming way, clearly try to explain something to you and failing miserably.

“You need help?” You asked, only making his movements become more erratic as he desperately tried to communicate with you. It looked almost comedic.

“I-I’m sorry I don’t- woah!” You exclaimed as he went to step forward, only to have his legs buckle beneath him, causing him to fall on top of you and sending you both falling to the floor. You stood up and helped him do the same, wrapping one of your arms around his middle and placing one of his over your shoulders to support him. Jace felt his cheeks heat up at the close contact with you.

“Careful. You must be shaken from whatever you’ve been through, huh?” You asked, and Jace felt himself nod along. In a way, he had, but not in the way you believed. You probably thought him some shipwreck survivor lost far from home.

“It’s okay, I’ll help you. I’ll get you some fresh clothes and food and… and you can stay at the castle for as long as you need.” You offered.

Jace felt his heart warm at your kindness, using you for support as you led him up the beach and towards the castle, with Syrax unbeknownst to the both of you gripping her claws tightly onto the sheet.

As Vermax watched you lead Jace up to the castle, although sad he could follow his friend no further, shared a small smile with Cannibal, who squawked enthusiastically at Jace’s plan officially beginning to be put into action.

Hopefully three days would be enough time.

After taking Jace up to the castle, you left him with the maids while you made sure lunch was being ready. Grimsby certainly raised an eyebrow when you told him you would have company for lunch, but you brushed off his questions, telling him that Jace was the sole survivor of a shipwreck, and he was welcome to stay until he could go home before leaving to get ready yourself.

You sat there at your vanity, pondering the events of that morning while your nurse Johanna brushed out your hair.

“You know… if you’re looking for a man, I know some decent ones. Ones that talk and that don’t appear out of nowhere, dressed in rags and washed up from a shipwreck.”

“I’ve met your brothers, Johanna,” You replied coolly in response. “And I would personally prefer if they didn’t speak either.”

Johanna closed her mouth, pinning back your hair. “Yes malady. Of course. I misspoke. Now… which gown would you prefer?”

Jace tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt as he waited for you to enter for lunch. So far he’d bathed and put on a shirt for the first time… the latter he wasn’t particularly enjoying. It felt constricting, somehow. His newly washed hair was brushed, his curls combed back slightly out of his face. He was dressed in a crisp white button up and a burgundy dinner jacket and matching trousers, a pair of black boots on his feet.

The only other person in the room, Grimsby, was stood by the window, looking out at the view of the sea. He occasionally glanced back at the guest, making sure he wasn’t stealing the silverware perhaps.

Jace looked up as the double doors to the dining room opened, his jaw dropping as he took the sight of you in.

You were dressed in a dress of the finest silks in a shade of rosy pink, the sweetheart neckline showing the barest hint of cleavage. The dress came in at the waist before flowing out into a fuller skirt, accentuating your figure. You wore a pair of diamond teardrop earrings and the slightest pink colouring to your lips.

Jace didn’t think you could look more stunning.

And yet there you were.

Jace hastily stood to his feet, as such was royal protocol in his realm whenever someone of royal lineage entered the room, but you simply smiled at him, telling him it wasn’t necessary and that he could sit down.

He wanted to tell you how beautiful you were, what a wonderful vision you looked in that gown, but he couldn’t.

All he could do was smile warmly at you, gesturing to you and nodding. You raised an eyebrow at him, slightly confused, looking down as though you thought you may have a stain on your gown or something, but Grimsby came to your rescue, taking his seat opposite Jace.

“I think he means to compliment you, Y/N.”

“Oh… are you?” You asked, and Jace immediately nodded. You gave him a warm smile, placing your hand over his. “Thank you. You look… very handsome.”

It was as those words left your mouth that you realised how nicely Jace scrubbed up. His hair was devoid of seaweed and sand, now freshly washed and hanging in soft curls down to just above his shoulder. His clothes fit him well, the red complimenting the warmness of his eyes.

You moved to sit down at your place at the head of the table, and Jace immediately stepped forward to push your chair in.

“My, my, perhaps I was mistaken,” Grimsby mused. “It is not often we have such a polite dinner guest.”

Jace was practically beaming as he took his seat. One of your maids, Carlotta, stepped forward to pour them all a goblet of wine, saying that lunch should be ready soon.

“You seem more content today, my dear,” Grimsby said.

“That’s because I haven’t been alone with my thoughts, Grim,” You replied.

“Mmm… more likely because you haven’t yet thought about galavanting off searching for strange undersea singing saviours.” He quipped in response, making your shoot him a small glare…

…And making Jace stare down at his empty plate to conceal the wide grin on his face.

It seemed as though you were thinking of him as much as he were thinking of you. As he looked down, he spotted one of his treasures that Rhaenyra had destroyed.

The dinglehopper.

He excitedly picked it up, inspecting the intricate carvings into the silver. It was more delicate than the one he had found in that shipwreck, but most likely still had the same purpose.

He held out the dinglehopper to you and you raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah it’s… a fork.” You said slowly. “Um… do you like it?”

Although his brows furrowed at you seemingly branding the object a fork, he nodded at your question, lifting the dinglehopper to his curls and dragging the fork through them, all the while looking at you with a wide smile. You simply stared back at him, wine goblet brought halfway to your lips. Grimsby looked downright flabbergasted.

Jace hastily put the fork down, staring down, cheeks flushed red in embarrassment.

Grimsby sent a rather perplexed look your way as you simply shrugged, taking a sip of your wine. He reached into his pocket and brought out his trusty pipe- a snarfblat- and a match, sending a weary glance to Jace as he watched it with interest.

He hesitated, glancing at the encouraging nod you gave him.

“Uh, do you like it?” He asked, receiving a very enthusiastic nod in response. He held the pipe out to Jace, who snatched it from his hold, inspecting it thoroughly.

“I’m glad you like it. It was passed down in my family for several genera-“

He was interrupted however, as Jace blew a large puff of smoke into his face, stopping him in his tracks. He sent a small glare your way as you bit back a small laugh by disguising it as a cough. That only seemed to make Jace happier, he was practically grinning from ear to ear at this point. He held the pipe back out to Grimsby, who placed it back in his pocket with a rather unenthusiastic thank you, dabbing his face with a white lace handkerchief.

“Why, Y/N, I think this is the first time I’ve seen you smile like this in, well, months.” Carlotta beamed at you.

“Yes… it’s amusing for some,” Grimsby muttered, continuing to dab at his ash ridden face.

Jace shot you a small smile, a pink dust powdering his cheeks as you returned the gesture.

“Carlotta, my dear, what’s for lunch?” Grimsby asked, wiping the majority of ash from his face.

“Oh, you’ll love it. Chef’s been fixing his speciality… stuffed crab!”

That made the smile vanish completely from Jace’s face, replaced by one of mild horror, which you immediately noticed.

“Do you not like stuffed crab? We can fix you up something else, I’m sure-“ You began, but Jace simply shook his head, giving you a rather tight lipped smile as he attempted to ignore the sick feeling welling up in his stomach.

”Don’t pester him, Y/N, the boy’s fine.” Grimsby chided, folding his blackened handkerchief and placing it back into his breast pocket.

The next several minutes were spent in a somewhat comfortable silence. Grimsby had lit his pipe and Jace was watching him smoke it with great interest, while you watched with a small smile on your face, sipping your wine. You didn’t know where Jace had come from, and he didn’t even know how to use a fork, but you found him strangely endearing.

The silence was short lived, as a serious of crashes were heard from the kitchen. You rose to your feet, but Carlotta stopped you.

“No need to stand, your majesty, I’ll just see what Louis is up to.”

“If you’re sure…” You murmured, sitting back down and watching as she hurried out of the dining hall, the crashes ceasing as Louis was no doubt being lectured by Carlotta, gods know what he was up to.

Carlotta soon came in carrying a tray with three dishes, each of which was covered by a silver dome covering.

“You know, Y/N, perhaps our guest here might enjoy seeing some of the sights of our kingdom. A tour, maybe?” Grimsby said, thanking Carlotta as she placed the dishes in front of them. “Y/N? Y/N?”

“Hmm? Oh, sorry Grimsby, what did you say?” You asked, tearing your gaze away from Jace and looking at the older man.

“I was just saying, that you can’t spend all of your time moping around. You should go out, socialise, get some colour to your cheeks. You know… have a life.”

As Grimsby spoke, he placed his pipe down to lift the dome, revealing two crabs. One, clearly dead, was a deep shade of red. The other however, seemed very much alive, and was a rather striking shade of gold.

Jace looked on in horror as Syrax opened one eye, bringing one of her claws up in a shushing motion to not draw attention to her.

“…You need to stop dawdling around and get your mind off…”

Jace made a beckoning motion to Syrax, lifting his plate cover enough so she could hurry onto his plate.

“I mean it’s not a bad idea,” You agreed, turning to look at Jace just as Syrax scuttled onto his plate, the dome promptly covering the crustacean. “If you’re interested, that is.”

Jace looked at you, not entirely sure what you were talking about. His mother would surely berate him for the lack of manners, but he was to focused on trying to save Syrax.

“So, would you like to join me on a tour of the kingdom tomorrow?” You prompted, making Jace vigorously nod in response, and arm leaning down on the plate covering, which had began to move.

“Wonderful,” Grimsby smiled. “It should do the world of good for the both of you. Now, let’s eat before this crab wanders off my plate.”

After lunch, which had consisted of Jace only eating his vegetables and Grimsby every single crab, you decided to give Jace a tour of your castle. He had listened with great interest as you explained the history of the castle, about how your family had inhabited it for generations after settling in the town.

You showed him the portrait hall, where every king and queen had been painted after their wedding. Jace couldn’t help but silently remark at the resemblance you had to both of your parents. You shared your mother’s kind eyes and full lips, but you had your father’s hair colour, and there was a similar trait you seemed to share with your father- the way you stood, and held yourself was identical. Like your father, you looked like a ruler.

A true heir to a kingdom.

You let out a small sigh as you reached the next spot on the wall where a blank canvas was hung up, encased in a golden frame encrusted in rubies and pearls.

“That’ll be me someday, I suppose,” You sighed. “Whenever I marry… no doubt when my parents return from their travels in a fortnight, they will have another proposal, or worse, a betrothal to announce. They won’t believe my story about my saviour.”

Jace’s eyes were welled up with sympathy for the way you almost seemed to wilt at the thought of marrying someone for a mere convenience. His throat burned as he yearned to say something, to scream at you that he was the one, that he could help you escape that horrible ordeal, but alas, all he could do was rest a hand on your shoulder, giving you a small, sorrowful smile.

You let out a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment as you composed yourself. “Anyway, there’s no point telling you my sorrows. What good could it do?”

Jace frowned as you brushed off his hand, changing the subject away from your evident displeasure of royal duties to take him to your study.

It was a relatively smaller room compared to the others in your palace, but still more than spacious enough. There was a large window overlooking the sea, a wooden desk placed in front of it. Either side of the desk, two wooden shelves were hung up, with scrolls, a compass and a globe placed on them. Wooden book cases lined the wood panelled walls, stacked full of leather bound books on history, philosophy, ocean species and plants. An oil painting of a ship on the sea hung over the window. A lamp was resting on the desk, no doubt for when you were staying up late reading, or studying, or writing yet another speech for the kingdom.

Jace’s fingers traced over the gilded gold letters on the books, some faded with age while other gleamed in the afternoon sun.

“Yeah, quite the collection I suppose,” You observed, leaning back against the desk. “This study used to be my father’s when he was prince. Like him, I’ve spent years studying ancient histories and philosophers, practiced training with a sword and riding horses. I know practically everything about this kingdom, and the others that surround it.”

Jace failed to hide the grimace that twisted his features. He remembered his uncle expressing a similar sentiment when challenging Rhaenyra becoming queen and Jace being announced as her heir. It was an echo of his words that for some reason stirred an uneasiness with in him. Yet when you saw his expression, you laughed.

“I know, right? It’s dull. Centuries of knowledge drilled into my mind and it’s taught me nothing about how to rule. The sword training helped should any conflict arise with another kingdom, although that hasn’t happened for centuries. The philosophy is just theory and the history… let’s just say when you’ve heard those stories time after time it gets incredibly tedious.”

Jace’s expression cleared at your response, although that sense of unrest lingered slightly. You were so different to what he knew, and yet so similar to what he’d always yearned for. With you, he felt a sense of freedom. He wasn’t restricted by rules or a fear of judgement.

His hand stopped as he read the title of a book titled ‘Legends Of The Seas’, looking at you.

You walked towards him and reached up to grab the book, reading the cover and raising an eyebrow at him. Jace swallowed thickly as he caught a whiff of your scent. It was intoxicating.

He hesitantly reached for the book, nodding at you as though asking for permission. You handed it over to him, and he flicked through the pages until it landed on what he was after. He showed you the pages and you took a step closer to him, crossing your arms.

“Mermaids? Really?” You sighed. “You don’t think they’re real, do you?”

Jace pointed to himself, and then pointed at the illustration of a merman on the second page.

I’m a merman.

I’M. A. MERMAN.

He wanted to scream those words at you, but you just stared up at him.

“Oh, you’ve seen them, have you?” You challenged, implying something else from his frantic pointing. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to get his point across, he nodded. “I’m afraid I don’t believe you. They’re myths for a reason, you know.” You snorted. “Next you’ll be telling me that…” You flicked forward several pages. “…cecaelia are real too.”

YES he wanted to scream. YES AND HE’S MY UNCLE AND HE’S GOING TO CLAIM MY SOUL IN TWO DAYS AND HE’S A COMPLETE PSYCHO!

But instead, he simply nodded again, albeit with a little less ardour.

“Hmm… if you say so.” You shrugged, but it was obvious you still didn’t believe him.

He held onto the book as you returned to leaning against the desk, glancing down to your right as the blank sheet of parchment.

“You know, I’d really to know your name. Could you write it down for me?” You asked him, gesturing to where the roll of parchment rested on your desk behind you. There was a blue ink bottle and a red feather quill resting beside it.

Jace gave you a nod, and you smiled at him, moving aside to he could sit down on the wooden chair in front of the desk, the wood creaking slightly and the red leather seat cracked with age.

He opened the ink bottle, dipping the feather quill into the pot. As he lifted the quill, a few drops of ink dripped onto the table, but you assured him there wasn’t any trouble. He sheepishly smiled in an apology, gliding the pen down on the parchment to write J, but no sooner than he did, the ink disappeared, leaving the parchment bare.

“That’s strange,” You murmured as he tried again, but to no avail. “Let me try.” You took the quill from him and tried writing your own name, and the ink came out perfectly.

”Hmm… try again, maybe?” You suggest, making sure enough ink was on the quill before giving it back to him. Again, nothing came out, and Jace pushed the parchment away frustratedly.

He knew what was happening.

Aemond was up to his tricks, trying to get him to fail.

He knew his uncle was rather cunning, and would make this task as difficult as he possibly could, simply to claim his soul as revenge for Rhaenyra no doubt, or maybe even just for his own amusement.

“Maybe the ink is drying up. I’ll have to make sure to get some more when we go to the village tomorrow. Why don’t you just trace the letters on the parchment with your finger?” You suggested, your brows furrowed.

Jace’s chest heaved in a deep sigh. Not being able to talk was proving difficult enough, let alone when Aemond was putting even more obstacles in his path. Rather than tracing the parchment with his own finger, he instead grabbed your hand in his, your index finger resting on the paper as he traced a J and an a.

“J-a-“ You began, making Jace nod and continue.

“Um, e? No, c- yes, okay… a- e- r- g- no? Y then? Then s? Jacaerys- Jacaerys!”

You smiled widely as Jace nodded enthyusiastically.

“Jacaerys,” You pondered, looking down at the parchment. “That’s a pretty name.” You murmured.

Jace immediately flushed scarlet, promptly letting go of your hand as he felt his grow clammy. You thought he had a pretty name? He wanted to open his mouth and tell you how beautiful he found yours as well, but all he could do was point to your name on the parchment and then at you.

“You… like my name too?” You asked, receiving a nod in response. “Well thank you, Jacaerys- no?” Your brows furrowed as he held his thumb and index finger a distance apart, slowly bringing them together.

“You like your name shortened? Okay…” You thought to yourself for a moment. “Jacey?” You asked, making him immediately shake his head. You let out a small chuckle. “No? Uh… Jace? Jace. Well, thank you, Jace. You’re very sweet.” You gave him a warm smile and his hand a small squeeze, and Jace’s cheeks darkened even more.

He felt as though he could die happily right there and then.

That night, Jace leaned against his balcony, watching you play with Max in the gardens. You were dressed in a red linen shirt and black trousers, your laugh like a sweet melody in Jace’s ears as Max jumped up excitedly at you, tackling you to the ground.

Jace rested his chin on his palm, a rather love struck expression and a gentle smile on his face as he watched you. He suddenly stood up straight as you noticed his presence, returning your smile with a rather timid wave as he retreated into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

He sat down at the dressed beside his bed, dragging a fork he’d stolen from dinner through his chocolate curls. He ignored Syrax as she glared at him from his bedside table, her claws crossed over one another, one leg tapping against the wood in the same way his mother would tap a finger while waiting for an explanation for whatever he’d done wrong.

Upon hearing a knock, Jace put his fork down and stood up and patted her head as he walked to the bedroom door, opening it to reveal you on the other side, leaning against the doorway with your hands resting in your pockets.

“I just… came to say goodnight,” You said with a small smile. Jace flushed slightly, a hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck as he nodded.

“So, goodnight. I hope you get a good night’s sleep, we’ve got a long day tomorrow,” You said, and he nodded, gesturing to you, as though he were trying to bid you the same wish.

You nodded. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it-“ You stopped, looking over his shoulder at where the fork was on his dresser. He quickly stepped to the side, blocking it from your line of vision.

“Okay, well goodnight.” You said, pushing yourself off the wall and turning away. “Oh, and by the way,” You said. “That brush okay your dresser beside the vase will detangle your curls much better than the fork.”

And with that you walked down the corridor, your figure illuminated by the dim lamplight. All Jace could do was watch after you in awe as your turned the corner, and disappeared from his sight. Part of him wanted to chase after you, but he knew he didn’t want to rush things and potentially scare you off.

Jace closed his door and sank down into the ruby red silk sheets. His new bed was even more comfortable than his own back in Atlantica. He smiled over at Syrax as she continued to glare at him. When she saw him meet her gaze, the turned her back on him, sulking like a spoilt child.

Jace rolled his eyes, pulling the covers over him and closing his eyes. In a way he was surprised at how quickly his fatigue had overcome him, but he’d only been human for a day, and his new legs ached and burned from use. Slumber soon took over him.

When she saw he was deep in sleep, Syrax blew out the lamp on the bedside table. Slowly, she edged closer to the pillow, dropping down onto it just by Jace’s head. She paused, and, seeing him stir but remain asleep, crept around his head to rest on the pillow behind him, falling asleep herself with a claw resting on his shoulder.

As Jace slept soundly in his bed, dreaming of you in bliss, the same could not be said for you.

Upon returning to your room, you had changed into a black silk nightgown and cleaned your teeth before settling down into bed. Usually you would read at least a chapter of whatever book you were reading before going to sleep, but you felt your eyelids droop before your head even touched the pillow. Blowing out the lamp, you soon fell fast asleep… and dreamt of a silver haired man.

You couldn’t see him from the waist down. If you looked down, all you saw was a shroud of inky shadow before something forced you to raise your head, a sort of invisible pull.

The man was strikingly handsome. His long silver hair was loose, cascading over his shoulders like a waterfall. One eye, a gentle lilac, the other… also hidden by the shadows.

He was bare chested, his pale skin glowing in the moonlight. He had a toned, strong body, a defined bone structure and a pendant hung from his neck. It looked like a shard of blue molten metal. Something you had never seen before.

He was, in a word, beautiful.

He simply stared at you, hands clasped behind his back, that lilac eye darkening slightly as it raked along your figure. His lips were twisted into a small smirk.

“Who are you?” You demanded, failing to suppress the waver in your voice. There was something that both intimidated and intrigued you about this mystery man. The way his eye pierced through you made you feel exposed, transparent, as though he could see straight through you, but there was such an allure to him.

The way he looked.

The way he looked at you.

The way he moved, no, glided towards you.

And the way you didn’t back away, or fight back as he reached out to you, slender fingers tracing down your cheek.

“You’ll find out soon enough, ñuha dārilaros.” He murmured, his hand moving to rest at the base of your neck. You stiffened under his touch, yet still found yourself unable to move. It was like you were hypnotised, entranced by him. [my princess]

“Soon... you will be mine…”

Meanwhile, Queen Rhaenyra sat on her throne, troubled. She had sent out her best soldiers and the other members of the royal family in search of her eldest son, who hadn’t been seen since she’d destroyed his collection. She’d spent the last several hours pacing back and forth around the throne room, waiting for any news.

“Any sign of them?” She asked as Daemon and Lucerys approached her.

”No. We’ve searched everywhere. There’s been no sight of Jacaerys, or Vermax. Or Syrax. Not a trace. Lord Corlys still has his fleet out searching the open waters, and Lord Cregan is patrolling the polar oceans.”

“Well keep looking. Leave no stone or shell unturned, no corner of the ocean unexplored. No one will rest until Jace is home and safe.” She leaned back on her throne, resting her hand against her forehead. “What have I done?” She whispered.

“You did what you thought was right, Rhaenyra,” Daemon replied. “Jacaerys will return. He’s probably hiding with Lord Cregan, sulking at you discovering his secret.”

“He can act impulsively, Daemon. If he’s done something reckless-“

“We will find him before it gets out of hand.” He interrupted, placing a hand on her shoulder.

Luke swallowed harshly, his hands clenched by his sides. “Maybe… maybe you shouldn’t have destroyed his collection.” He spluttered out, making both Daemon and Rhaenyra turn to him, guilt swimming in the latter’s teary eyes, and mild annoyance in the former’s.

“Lucerys-

“O-or maybe you shouldn’t do everything Daemon tells you. Maybe you should do what you feel is right. B-because I know you wouldn’t have thought of destroying it if he wasn’t there.”

“Luke!”

“You should learn to respect those above you, taoba.” Daemon replied, shooting a rather intimidating glare to the young prince. Despite being mildly nervous, Luke held his ground.

“It’s true! Everyone can see, they’re just too afraid of Daemon to speak up!”

“And with good reason-“

“Enough!” Rhaenyra held up a hand, silencing the two mermen. She let out a small sigh. “Daemon, leave. Continue searching for Jacaerys.”

“Of course, my Queen.” Daemon bowed before her before swimming out of the throne room, but not before shooting Luke a nasty glare.

“Luke-“

“I need to tell you something, mother.” Luke blurted out. He knew Jace didn’t want Rhaenyra to know what he’d decided to do, but as the hours passed and no one had found any sight of him, he had grown increasingly weary of Aemond granting him his wish.

“Luke, I’m trying to look for your brother so unless it’s important-“

“What if he’s not in the ocean.”

“W-what? What are you talking about-“

“What if…” Luke ran a hand through his dark curls. “What if he’s… up there…” He suggested, pointing to the surface.

“Luke,” Rhaenyra sighed, taking his hand in hers. “I understand that Jace has this bizarre fascination with the surface world but- why do you look so concerned, dearest?”

Concern had suddenly brewed the the Queen’s eyes at the way Lucerys was trembling slightly, his brows furrowed as though he were holding back tears.

“Luke, do you know something?” She asked.

He nodded, staring at the ground. “I-I promised that I wouldn’t tell…”

“Is your brother in danger, Luke?” She prompted, a gentler tone to her voice. Again, the prince nodded.

Rhaenyra looked up at the water’s surface, the moon casting a silvery glow.

“Did he try to become a human?” She asked, a pang of dread striking her heart.

“I… I think so he… he told me to leave him before I could find out. But why else would he go with… with that thing…?”

Rhaenyra hadn’t seen her second borne son look this shaken since he was a child, on the night of Aemond’s banishment.

“What thing?”

“V…” Luke swallowed harshly. “Vha…” he squeezed his eyes shut. The memories from that night were often blurry in his mind, but seeing the beast yesterday had brought then all flooding back.

“Vhagar?” Rhaenyra asked, and Luke nodded.

“Luke,” Rhaenyra cupped the boy’s face, meeting his gaze with hers. “You need to tell me everything. Now.”

Jace rose with the dawn the following morning, throwing the covers off of him with the excitement of seeing and spending the day with you bubbling in his chest. He would get the chance to see the kingdom today, and to see the day to day lives of the people.

His sudden awakening had startled Syrax, who jumped slightly as she was startled awake. She shot him a glare as he opened the doors to his wardrobe to choose a what to wear.

He’d never had to wear clothes before after all, and so held up a variety of outfits for Syrax to choose, each being greeted by a rather dismissive shake of her head. In the end, he chose one that she hadn’t chosen but he had liked- a rust coloured shirt and black trousers, as well as the boots he’d worn yesterday. His legs still wobbled slightly as he walked downstairs for breakfast, occasionally struggling to gain balance.

You weren’t awake yet, so he took his seat at the dining table from yesterday and patiently waited, simply enjoying seeing the newly risen sun casting a golden glow across the sea, which was a little more restless today than yesterday, the tide further in than it should have been and the waves crashing into the rocks dotted along the coastline rather aggressively.

Jace’s brows furrowed. What if it was his mother- no, no. He shook his head to himself, mentally reminding himself of how harsh her glare was the last time they spoke. The way she looked at him with such disappointment, she should be glad he was finally gone.

Jace instead focused on the sky, the few wisps of cloud that had formed illuminated in the golden glow, enhancing the streaks of coral and pink that painted the sky. It was a beautiful sight to see, one that he hadn’t been able to appreciate under the waves.

He rose to his feet as the double doors opened, slightly deflating at the sight of Grimsby, Carlotta and several maids entering, the former taking his seat and drawing out his pipe and the others setting various covered dishes in front of him. Jace, however, kept his gaze on the door. Carlotta sent him a knowing smile.

“Don’t you worry, she’ll be down in a minute or two.” She murmured to him, making him flush slightly in embarrassment.

Was it really that obvious he was looking for you?

He opened his mouth to protest his innocence, but shut it again when no sound came out. He simply shook his head at her, making her chuckle slightly.

“You can’t fool me. You were gazing at her all throughout dinner last night. I saw.” She smiled. “And if it helps, I saw her look at you too.” She added, shooting him a small wink as she and the maids left the dining hall, Jace gaping after her.

Was that true? Were you looking? Or did Carlotta say that to make him feel better? If you did, could he fulfil his end of the deal and get a kiss?

He didn’t have too much time to dwell on that, as a minute later the doors to the dining hall opened, and you walked inside.

You had elected to wear purple that day. A lilac blouse with a darker corset detailing that came in at the waist and an amethyst skirt that reached just below your knees. A pair of black pumps were on your feet. Your hair was tied back with a black ribbon to keep it out of your face. Jace noticed you looked beautiful as ever, but you had applied some powder to your cheeks in an attempt to conceal the slight darkness under your eyes, to hide your tiredness.

You looked tired, yet when your gaze locked onto Jace, you gave him your most dazzling smile, which he tried to return.

“Good morning,” You greeted, taking your seat at the head of the table. Jace nodded in response.

“Did you sleep well?” You asked, pouring yourself some coffee into a dainty china cup and Grimsby a cup of tea. Jace nodded again rather vigorously, gesturing to you to ask you the same.

“Oh, I slept fine.” You muttered rather dismissively, taking a sip of your coffee, your mind drifting to that mysterious silver haired man from your dream. You had been dreaming of him the past few nights, but last night was the first time that you had seen him relatively clearly and heard him speak. Before then, he had been completely shrouded in shadow, save for the small hint of silver hair, or flash of lilac from his eye.

You had pondered that he could be your mystery man, but then your mind wandered to Jace. You felt safe with him, and he made you feel warm inside, like a sense of home. With the silver haired man, you’d felt intimidated, yet intrigued. Bewitched, even. But there was a dangerous allure to him that sent a chill down your spine.

You forced the image of the man from your thoughts, deciding on instead spending the day showing Jace your kingdom, and seeing your people. They were your responsibility while your parents were away, and they would be your responsibility when the crown was passed to you.

After finishing breakfast, you led Jace outside where a black and gold carriage pulled by a beautiful bay horse was waiting. Jace had never seen a horse up close before, and rather nervously let you grab his hand and rest it on the horse’s nose, just as he’d rather admirably watched you do so a moment ago. He was soon put at ease as the horse nuzzled against his touch, a slight pink dusting to his cheeks at you standing right beside him, your hand still resting over his.

After you convinced Jace to stop feeding the horse handfuls of grass he’d torn up from your lawn, he opened the carriage door for you, his hand still interlocked with yours as he helped you into the carriage before following suite. You both waved to Carlotta and Grimsby, the former of whom sent Jace a nod and cheeky grin, before you grabbed the reins and started you on the nearby journey into the town.

As the horse led you down the lane into town, Jace excitedly pointed at every little thing he saw, whether that be a butterfly fluttering past, a rather interesting tree or a nearby field overgrown with wildflowers. You gave him that same, warm smile each time, finding his innocent joy rather beguiling. You did, however, panic slightly when you glanced over in his direction to be greeted with the sight of Jace leaning over the side of the carriage, watching the horses hooves trot down and kick up dust into his face from the road, causing him to cough and you to grab the back of his shirt and drag him back into the carriage properly.

As you led the carriage into town, you crossed a bridge built over a canal. Syrax, who had been hidden at the back of the carriage, peered over the side to see Vermax following them. His gaze flicked between you and Jace, but Syrax simply shook her head. Cannibal, flying overhead, softly squawked in disappointment.

You slowed the carriage to a stop, many of the townspeople stopping to greet and bow and wave to their princess and her companion. Jace watched softly as you greeted each and every one of them, shaking their hand and listening to whatever query or compliment they gave to you. How you graciously accepted the daisy a little girl shyly gave to you and how you helped load an elderly man’s shopping into his carriage. You would be a kind and gracious queen, Jace knew it.

Once the gathering had dispersed and the townspeople had gone back to their day to day lives, you tucked the daisy behind Jace’s ear and took him by the hand, surprising him by not even acknowledging how clammy they were, and led him past the rows of sweet little cottages and into the town centre.

It was bustling with crowds of people going about their business, whether that was going to the market, or spending a day out with their children.

When you reached the square, you immediately felt yourself being pulled over to where a man was gathering up chickens, and then over to where a crowd of children were watching a puppet show (although you rather hastily had to steer Jace away when he reached forward and pulled one of the puppets the puppeteers’ hand). No sooner than you did, he was dragging you over to where a band was playing in the centre of the square, where several couples both young, old and everything in between were dancing.

It was like he were experiencing everything for the very first time.

“Do you like dancing?” You asked, watching the way those warm brown eyes watched every spin, every step. He shyly shrugged in response, making you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“You’ve never danced before?”

He shook his head, his shoulders heaving in a silent sigh as he watched the dancers longingly.

You bit your lip, taking his other hand so both of yours were in his, before leading him over. Initially he tried to resist, frantically shaking his head at you. He didn’t want to mess things up by dropping you, or accidentally stepping on your toes (he still wasn’t completely used to his new legs after all), but you persisted, moving one of his hands so it was placed on your back, your now free hand resting on his rather tense bicep, the other still clasped in his.

“Just follow my lead, okay Jace?” You smiled reassuringly at him, and Jace felt a warmth spread through him at how easily his name spilled from your tongue.

You stepped to the side slowly, and Jace kept his gaze fixed on your footsteps, how you would step back and to the side before bringing your feet together, twirling in a circle as you did so. He tried his best to copy those steps, eventually feeling comfortable enough to let his gaze to meet yours.

“See? You’re a natural.” You smiled, your hand moving from his bicep to rest against the back of his shoulder and neck, your fingertips brushing against his hair. “I can’t believe you’ve never danced before. It’s like you’ve been hidden from everyone your whole life.”

Because that’s exactly how it is, Jace thought as he span you around, his hand now resting on your waist to pull you closer. It was a bold move, but you let him do so, not shying away from his touch. Perhaps it was Jace’s imagination, but he could have sworn he’d felt you lean into it.

In another daring move, he broke his hand from yours to join his other on your waist, lifting you up and spinning you around, your fingers tangling in his chestnut curls as they wrapped around the back of his neck to hold onto him. Jace had always dreamed of how dancing with someone would feel, but he loved it even more when he was there, on land, dancing with you.

Jace would have happily spent the entire day dancing with you, but after an hour or so, he felt his legs start to ache, and he accidentally stumbled and stood on your foot, which he was profoundly apologetic about, but you assured him it wasn’t painful. And so you led him back towards the marketplace. He felt rather guilty about you spending your money on him, but you had insisted, and so he let you buy him a new pair of red leather boots. In return, he chose you a bouquet of flowers- red roses, he’d been told. You’d also bought some things for the palace, including yourself a new ink pot and a loaf of bread for the kitchens. You had been rather intrigued by a visiting jewellery merchant, Jace noticed, also admiring the jewels. He pointed at a rather beautiful pair of ruby earrings before gesturing to your own ears, which had a small pair of pearl earrings dangling from them today.

They would look stunning on you

“They are beautiful,” You agreed. “But I always found myself more partial to a sapphire.” You then added, pointing at a silver necklace set with the blue jewel. Jace grimaced in response, the sight of his uncle’s mutilated eye flashing to the forefront of his mind, only adding to the uneasiness in his stomach over the passing time.

Why did it have to be sapphires?

“What is it?” You asked as you noticed Jace’s expression. “Would it not suit me?”

Jace mentally cursed. If he could talk, it would be so easy to tell you that it would, of course it would look absolutely beautiful on you, but he personally thought the rubies would compliment your eyes more… and they were his favourite colour… and they wouldn’t remind him of his psychopath of an uncle.

So instead he nodded in agreement, before pointing at the earrings and nodding again.

“You… think the rubies would suit me more?” You asked, and he nodded again. “Okay, maybe you’re right… I was having a scarlet gown commissioned before the ball when my parents returned.”

A ball? Oh, how Jace would love to experience a ball.

He only hoped he could stay with you to see it one day.

His beaming smile as you purchased the earrings didn’t last as you also bought the sapphire necklace before leading him back to the carriage.

“You looked tired so I thought we could take a ride through the countryside.” You offered. “If you’re done here, that is. Although we can always come back here next week when the market returns.”

Jace nodded, opening the carriage door for you, trying to forget he only had one more day after this to get that kiss.

The horse drew away from the town in a gentle trot, the late afternoon breeze fluttering through Jace’s hair. He watched intently as you steered the horse down the lane, the road decked with trees either side, forests and meadows sprawling for miles, and yet the slight saltiness from the sea still lingered in the air.

“Do you want to try?” You asked, gesturing to the reins in your hands. He hesitated for a moment before nodding, letting you place the reins in his outstretched hands and position them correctly.

“There you go. You’re doing great.” You smiled at him, a hand resting on his shoulder in encouragement. His tense muscles relaxed slightly under your warm touch and praising words, and rather enthusiastically, he snapped at the reins as he’d seen you do so when you left the castle that morning.

“Wait, hang on- Jace!” You let out a small shriek as the horse reared in the air before bolting into a canter, surging down the lane. It suddenly surged to the left down a small pathway leading into the trees.

“Jace, you might want to ease up a bit- no, slow down! Slow down!” You exclaimed, bracing a hand on the carriage as the horse galloped in the direction of a large ditch. Jace, on the other hand, was showing no sign of doing so, a wide grin on his face as he instead encouraged the horse to speed up.

“Jace, what are you- oh shit!” You braised yourself as the horse leaped over the wide ditch, preparing yourself for the crash.

But it didn’t come.

Jace had slowed the horse down to a steady trot, and had a managed to find the main lane again, turning to look at you with a rather cheeky, yet charming, smile. You flushed slightly.

“Oh. Um… well done. Do you… want me to take the reins back?” You asked, but Jace shook his head, turning back to the road. He seemed to have gotten the hang of it, so you leaned back comfortably with a small shrug, your arms supporting the back of your head as you rode through the trees, the sun beginning to set in the sky.

After taking him for a little tour around the countryside you had steered him to a charming little restaurant for dinner. It was near a small lagoon, and was lit with lanterns set with different coloured glass, some were alight with an amethyst purple that matched your dress, others a deep wine red, or an ocean blue.

Jace watched you with admiration as you greeted the staff one by one, declining the offer of using a private dining room to instead favour a small table outside by the water beneath the lanterns, the hum of the crickets and gentle lapping of the lagoon waves against the shore creating a comfortable setting as the sun dipped below the trees, the sky streaked with gold, violet and pink.

You were approached throughout the dinner by multiple townspeople, who greeted you apologetically for the interruption to greet you, or gifted you with wildflowers. Jace simply watched with a soft smile on his face, flushing slightly whenever anybody turned their attention to him, shrinking back in his seat slightly as you recycled the same story you had told those in the castle.

The meal was far better than anything Jace had eaten in Atlantica, and as a surprise, you led him over to where a small wooden rowing boat for two was nestled in the reeds. Resting one foot on the boat to steady it, you helped Jace take his seat before following him, your hand holding his to maintain your balance.

You took ahold of the oars, not quite ready to hand the control to Jace in fear of your dinner being brought back up.

You rode a little way out into the lagoon, concealed by the reeds and the tall willow tree drooping over the bank, but making sure the water was shallow enough that Jace at least could stand up (you weren’t sure he could swim and didn’t want to concern him with being in deep water after the shipwreck ordeal).

Jace exhaled, spotting Vermax watching them from the water, Syrax resting on the reeds and Cannibal on a tree branch nearby. All three were watching the pair intently, and Jace shook his head once at them.

No kiss yet.

But everything was going so well, surely he could receive that true love’s kiss by the end of tonight. He had felt something when you were dancing. The way your eyes locked with his, the way you didn’t resist him holding you closer, and seemed to lean into his touch, or the way your hand seemed to grow slightly clammy as well when held in his.

Surely he couldn’t have imagined that?

You shot him a small smile as you placed the oars down, flexing your stiffened fingers slightly. You glanced around, not sure what the say. Do you ask him if he was okay? If he liked the spot you’d chosen? You weren’t sure, but Jace seemed very preoccupied by the willow tree at the edge of the lagoon. Or was he just lost in thought?

Before you could ask what had caught his attention, a dreadful sound pierced your ears. It was like someone dragging their nails down a blackboard. It was a shrill screeching sound, like some poor bird was in pain.

“Gods, it sounds like some poor creature needs to be put out of its misery.” You murmured.

Jace grimaced in response, his gaze locked on where Cannibal was squawking in the tree above, raising a wing as a gesture of you’re welcome, seemingly believing he was helping create a romantic atmosphere and that he was doing Jace a favour.

He let out a small sigh of relief as he saw Syrax climb up to the branch, a claw snapping around Cannibal’s beak. Her beady eyes glared him down, her other claw making swiping across her in a zip it motion before she jumped back down into the reeds.

“Seems like somebody was listening.” You mused, using one of the oars to steer you both into the centre of the lagoon. Jace gave a slight smile in response, simply glad that you’re back was facing his unhelpful feathered companion.

He was even more glad that Syrax, perched on a drooping reed leaf, dropped down into the water, and moments later as a small group of turtles appeared. Syrax tapped the shells of the turtles, creating a percussion sound that a small flock of ducks continued for her. She then jumped o back onto a reed, pointing at a group crickets that began to him a little louder.

She was creating music for them.

You seemed to have noticed, glancing around.

“It sounds so peaceful,” You mused. “Nature really is an incredible thing.”

Jace could only nod in agreement, his gaze now focused entirely on you, and how ethereal you looked in the silver glow of the moon and the golden hum of the fireflies circling the lagoon.

All Jace could think about was how much he wanted to succeed in his task, and how he wanted to be with you. As he admired you, it was at the forefront of his mind. How the clock was ticking. He was running out of time, but he had no idea how he would go about it. His mother had always taught him to ask permission first when courting a lady, but, of course, he was unable to. He felt too awkward, so shy around you, to approach the subject. But then again, if he didn’t kiss you, he would lose you forever.

Now was the perfect opportunity, he doubted he’d get a better one. The atmosphere was perfect, the setting was stunning, and you looked beautiful of course but… he didn’t quite know how to go about it. He didn’t even know what was going through your mind as you kept your gaze focused on him. He didn’t even know you were going through a similar mental dilemma.

You didn’t know why, usually you would never rush into such things, he hadn’t even spoken a single damn word to you, but there was something about Jace. You knew there was something familiar about him. Hell, you had even thought he could have been who you had been searching for, but since he couldn’t talk, that was impossible. But there was still something about him that drew you in. A silent charm to him.

You didn’t know why you were particularly focusing on the warmth of his eyes as they gazed at you, or the way his hair framed his face, or the shape of his lips…

You didn’t know why your mind went back to the day you’d spent together, the dancing, the rather intimate dinner.

And then you realised through all of that, every time you spent time together, his eyes were always intently focused on you, just as they were now, as though you were the only thing there. Perhaps you were only imagining that…

Or was he thinking the same thing as you?

You were to caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t even notice the boat start to drift further into the lagoon. You didn’t notice the glare Jace sent down to where Vermax and those turtles were pushing the boat, or the way two pelicans swooped down to part the leaves of a willow tree to let the boat pass through. Or how the fireflies were circling the both of you now. You didn’t notice Syrax climbing onto Jace’s shoulder, goading him on to kiss you before returning to the water.

You weren’t snapped from your thoughts until Jace rested his hand over yours. You turned your hand and allowed him to hold it properly. He looked nervous, from the way his eyes darted from your hand to your lips and then up to yours eyes and back again, to the way he seemed to be biting his lip or the fact his hand was growing more clammy.

Was he feeling the same thing as you?

Almost like a magnetic pull, you leaned forward slightly, not quite realising you had done so until Jace did the same, and you realised how close you were, mere inches apart. Your eyes locked, and you could feel yourself drowning in them, noticing for the first time that there was a darker rim around his iris, and that in the glow of the fireflies that had began to hum louder, they had a honeyed colour to them, becoming lighter towards the centre.

Jace had a swarm of butterflies within him, feeling the apprehension bubbling up inside. Were you actually going to kiss him? You leaned in first after all… could he actually succeed and finally get his wish? Instinctively, he eyelids fluttered shut. He felt you draw back slightly, perhaps surprised at the possibly bold move, but your hand never left his.

And then he felt you lean forward again, the boat creaking slightly as you shifted closer to him. You closed your eyes as well as you leaned closer still, your lips mere inches apart from brushing against his. You could quite believe you were doing this, but something just felt right.

Jace’s heart was hammering within his chest, he couldn’t believe he was about to kiss you. He was so close…

Until the boat flipped over and sent the both of you tumbling into the lagoon.

The animals had scattered, both not wanting for you to see them, and also in fear of where Vhagar had slithered underneath the boat to flip it over before disappearing within the reeds, her teeth bared in a sickening grin and that blue eye glowing brighter than the moon, watching as you grabbed Jace’s hand, the both of you rising to your feet. He looked you over, those chestnut eyes brimmed with worry.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You sighed, catching your breath. Fortunately the water was shallow enough that you could stand above the water level, you steadying the boat to let Jace clamber back on board. He then extended his hand to you to help you as well, you taking the oars and rowing the both of you back to shore.

Jace sat there silently, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he stared down at the water. He knew that wasn’t an accident, and his jaw clenched slightly in annoyance at his uncle’s interference.

Aemond had been watching Jace ever since he’d reached the surface, his amusement at Jace’s schoolboy like crush changing to irritation as it seemed like it was rubbing off on you.

He had been tracking Jace for months, knowing he was the perfect pawn to use against Rhaenyra. To take her throne and rule the seas in revenge of his banishment. The first thing he would do is take Lucerys’ eye.

For his mother.

He had heard of her passing shortly after his banishment, and the anguish he had felt had twisted his mind and blackened his heart. He had descended into madness in his exile, and although he had added his grandfather’s soul to his collection, he knew that was only the beginning.

And then he watched as Jace had become infatuated with you, and initially, he saw you as the perfect stepping stone to Rhaenyra’s downfall.

But then he found himself intrigued by you.

He had always carried some disdain for humans, viewing them as an inferior species. But your free spirit, and your good heart, such a contrast to him, had drawn him in. It didn’t help that you were such a stunning creature, more gorgeous than any mermaid he’d seen. And although that could be seen as weakness, he saw it as an opportunity.

After claiming Rhaenyra’s soul in return for Jace’s “freedom”, he would take control of the the oceans and dispose of those who ever opposed him, and then he would go to you, and claim you as his. He could imagine how soft your skin would feel against his, how you would feel trapped beneath him as he made you his, those sweet noises that would spill from your lips as you’d moan his name.

And then, he’d marry you, and become ruler on land and sea, his power unopposed, finally getting that vengeance on behalf of himself and his mother.

There was a small spanner in the works as you grew closer to Jace, but he had been sowing the seeds in his plan for some time, visions of him plaguing your dreams and observing you through Vhagar.

He gently rested a hand on Vhagar’s head as she swam into the cavern, giving a small hum of approval.

“Nice work, Vhagar,” He praised. “That was a little close. A little too close.” He glared at the cauldron, glaring at the image of you and Jace arriving back at castle, the both of you still damp from the lagoon debacle. Jace got out of the carriage, taking your hand and helping you step out, leading you into the castle where the maids would no doubt hurry to prepare you a nice warm bath.

“That little brat is doing better than I thought,” He mused. “At this rate, he’ll be kissing her by tomorrow’s sunset. No matter…” his lips twisted into a grin. “I suppose I’ll just have to take matters into my own hands…”

He reached up towards a cupboard, grabbing several bottles and throwing them to the basin, causing a cloud of blue smoke to explode from it. He waved his hand, and the image above the basin changed to where you were preparing yourself for bed, dressed in a pink silk nightgown that reached midway down your thighs. However, instead of going to bed for an early night as Aemond assumed you would, you left your room and walked down the hallway, knocking on Jace’s door.

“Hi… I just… wanted to say goodnight.” You muttered, you gaze focused on the floor. Jace frowned slightly. Did you regret the moment the two of you had shared? Did this mean he’d lost his chance?

He nodded, reaching for your hand, only for you to pull it away. You finally raised your gaze to look at him, but the smile you sent him didn’t reach your eyes.

“Sleep well,” You whispered, before leaning up and pressing a small kiss to his cheek. It was feather light, a simple brush of your lips, but it set Jace’s skin on fire, his cheeks flushing bright red as stared at you as you turned and hurried back down the hallway without looking back.

His hand raised to brush against his cheek where you’d kissed him, a small smile creeping onto him face.

Perhaps there was still a chance for him after all.

Aemond on the other hand, was glaring at the image, his knuckles white from where he was gripping the side of the basin so tightly.

“She will be mine,” He spat. “And his soul will be mine. And Rhaenyra?” He chuckled, the shard of dragonglass glowing a vivid blue. “I’ll have her trapped. She’ll be wriggling like a worm on a hook.”

You felt your mind swimming with conflicting thoughts, on whether you should pursue these feelings for Jace, or whether you should continue your search for your saviour.

You felt exhausted, both from the long day and the lack of sleep for last night, and so decided to get some rest, and hopefully sort out the conflict between your heart and your head tomorrow.

Just like last night, sleep overtook you as soon as your head touched the pillow.

And just like last night, you dreamed of the silver haired man.

It was almost as though he was waiting for you, standing right where you left him, that intense stare of his from the one visible eye making you instinctively shrink back. He was intimidatingly beautiful.

Even when he turned to fully face you, there was still something concealing the other side of his face from. A sort of barrier in your mind.

It only intrigued you more.

You took a step back as he advanced towards you. He almost seemed to glide, as though he were floating in the air. You took another step back, only to be greeted with an invisible wall, trapping you completely.

The man’s lip twisted into a smug smirk, a glint in that amethyst eye of his that only meant trouble, no doubt.

The man was soon enough right in front of you, looking down at you, his eye darkening as a his fingertips left feather light touches across your jaw, down your neck and across your collarbone before tracing down to your chest, a hint of cleavage showing. His hand then moved down to your breast, concealed beneath the thin silk of your nightgown. He let out a small hum of content at the gasp that left your lips as he gave it a small pinch, the peak hardening beneath his touch.

You felt yourself shiver beneath his touch, feeling as though you should push the man away and reject his advances, but you found yourself being unable to. You knew it was a dream, that you would wake up at any moment, but it still felt real.

“W-who… w-what are you…? You stuttered out, but the man raised his other hand and pressed his index finger to your lips.

“Hush now, ñuha dārilaros,” He murmured, his head leaning down to the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. His hand that was on your breast was now creeping along your thigh, beneath the skirt of your rather flimsy nightdress.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers grazed lightly over your core, his lips pressing against the base of your throat before tracing up your neck. He pressed another kiss to your jaw this time, before they ultimately reached your ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth.

“Soon, ñuha dārilaros,” He whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His hand pulled away from between your legs. “We will see each other very soon.”

You jolted awake with a start, your chest heaving and a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your skin. You threw the covers off you, glancing at the small clock hanging above the mantelpiece.

You had only been asleep for half an hour.

And you doubted you would be welcome to any more, not wanting to be greeted with the sight of the silver haired man again. Why he haunted your dreams, you didn’t have a clue. But you were certain it was hardly a coincidence.

Deciding that the nightly sea air may do you some good, you changed from that nightgown into a white cotton shirt and navy trousers, pulling your boots onto your feet.

You lit the lamp beside your bed and carried it out of your room, creeping downstairs and out the back door in the kitchens. You blew out the lamp and left it on the kitchen table, walking down through the small courtyard and sitting on the terrace, your legs crossed beneath you.

You let out a deep sigh, glancing back at the castle. Jace’s curtains were drawn, the lamps blown out. Most would have either taken the opportunity of a longer night’s sleep, and would either be in bed already or preparing to do so.

Except for one other, that is.

Your gaze looked out towards the sea. The waves were a lot more aggressive today, and the tide came in far quicker than usual.

You jumped slightly as you felt a hand rest gently on your shoulder.

”Y/N,” Grimsby sighed. “You seem unlike your usual self.”

“I’m just… lost in thought,” You muttered in response, your gazed fixed on how the moon cast a glow on the ocean’s surface, the light being cast taking on a more indicolite colour.

“Y/N, if I may say, far better than a dream man, is one made of flesh and blood. One that is warm, gentlemanly and friendly. One that is right in front of your eyes…”

Your gaze moved to Jace’s bedroom window for a fleeting moment before then focusing on Grimsby. You glanced back out at the sea, your shoulders heaving in a silent sigh. You reached into your pocket a drew out your flute, raising it to your lips and playing that same small tune that had been replaying in your mind ever since your rescue.

Knowing that he wasn’t going to get a response, Grimsby let out another sigh and left your side, walking back up to the castle.

You continued playing the sweet melody, but soon enough found it growing out of tune, your breaths becoming uneven. You let out a groan of frustration, rising to your feet on the wall and throwing your arm back, launching the flute into the sea out of sheer frustration at your internal conflict.

You let out a defeated sigh, collapsing back down and burying your head on your hands. You had certainly grown fond of Jace, but there had been such a short amount of time. You didn’t want to rush into things. And then there was that mystery man, the one who had saved you. You were certain he was out there somewhere. And your mind still drifted to the man you’d seen in your dreams, the one who you hadn’t heard speak above a murmur. Could he be the man who saved you? Why else would he inhabit your thoughts?

You shook your head, not wanting to plague your thoughts further, deciding instead to return to the castle to go to the library or your study and read until the sun rose. Rising to your feet, you turned to walk back, but something stopped you.

It started out as a whisper in the breeze, but soon grew louder. It was a very familiar voice singing a very familiar tune.

It was the tune that was sung to you the day you were rescued from drowning.

Like in the trance of a siren song, you returned to your place on the terrace, leaning forward to try and find where the song was coming from, a growing mist surrounding the shore making you squint slightly.

And then you saw a silhouette, tall and slender, emerging from the fog, the voice growing louder and louder until you finally got a clear sight of the source of the song.

It was a man clad in black leather trousers and a black leather overcoat with a white shirt underneath, the top few undone buttons exposing the top half of his chest. A pendant hung from his neck, glowing a faint blue in the moonlight, and he had an eyepatch covering his left eye. His silver hair was tied half up, fluttering in the night breeze.

It was the man from your dreams.

All you did was stare as the man walked down the beach, your eyes wide and your heart hammering in your chest.

He came to a stop directly in front of you, and even from a distance you could see how his lilac eye glittered in the moonlight, how the moon’s glow made his hair look even more silver.

”Good evening, princess,” He greeted. His voice was smooth and held a sort of allure to it. Like a siren’s song.

“Good… good evening,” You replied, your mouth void of saliva and your thoughts swimming. You knew it wasn’t a coincidence that you’d been seeing this man in your dreams, and the thought of him being your mystery saviour had crossed your mind, but you never imagined he’d be standing here right in front you.

“A lovely evening, is it not?”

“I- the sea is a little choppy tonight.”

“Hm, is suppose you are right,” The man replied. “The waves could destroy the greatest of ships indeed.” He mused, his visible eye glittering. “Speaking of, I hope you have since recovered from that ordeal.”

”Yes… I’m fine…” You murmured, clearing your throat. “What is your name?”

“Aemond Targaryen,” He paused. “Prince Aemond Targaryen. And what is your name?”

He couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at the corner of his lip. He knew your name already. Of course he knew your name.

“Y/N. Princess Y/N L/N.” You replied, mimicking his tone as you stepped down from the terrace and took a step towards the beach.

“Hm,” Aemond let it a small hum of amusement. “You have a lovely kingdom, my princess.”

“Thank you. What kingdom do you reside over.” You asked, taking another step towards Aemond, him doing the same.

“It is one that is far away. Out there, beyond these waters.” Was his response, extending his hand to help you down the steep slope leading down to the beach. His touch was cold, his larger hand holding yours in a tight grip. He did not possess the same warmth as Jace, despite being just as handsome.

“Well perhaps one day I will see it.” You said, making his smirk widen.

“Perhaps.”

You pulled your hand from his, resting it in your pocket. “Well what brings you to these parts?”

Aemond let out a deep exhale. “To escape from everything, I suppose. I have struggled with the concept of me taking the throne. The current ruler of my kingdom… she has grown rather weak. A new ruler is needed and my elder brother is not fit for it, and so that responsibility has befallen me. ‘Twas I who studied history, philosophy, the skills with a sword, all in preparation for that moment, and yet now the moment has come…” He turned away form you, his lilac gaze focusing on the ocean behind him. If you stood in front of him, you would see the smile on the hidden side of his face.

"I understand," You replied, your voice barely a murmur, smothered by the whipping sea winds. "I feel that way too." You hesitated for a moment. "Why did you rescue me that night? How... how did you find me? We were quite a distance from the shore."

"I have always been a rather strong swimmer," He brushed off your enquiries. "I was merely in the area and I saw the ship in flames so I decided to see if there were any survivors. I reached where the ship was by climbing over the rocks lining the shore and then saw you slip beneath the waves unconscious. I couldn't let you die, that much I was certain of, and so I swam out and dragged you to shore."

"Why didn't you take me to Grimsby and the remainder of the crew on the lifeboats?"

"They were gone by the time I had found you."

You nodded. Did you entirely believe the story? You weren't sure. There was something about this stranger that caused a sense of unease within you. He didn't make you feel comfortable like Jace did, instead he was rather unnerving.

All the same, there was something pulling you towards Aemond, like a sailor entranced by a siren. He was a very handsome man, from a royal upbringing. He seemed intelligent and well spoken. A perfect prince, one would say. But that didn't stop the glint in that lilac eye of his. A darkness, or danger, something that set you on edge.

"Well... thank you for saving me. The song you sang to me... it was quite beautiful. Although, I am not familiar with the dialect I heard."

"An ancient language from my homeland. One that is practically extinct. Only those in the royal family use it. A sort of tradition, I suppose."

"Well it sounded very beautiful," You replied, your gaze travelling to the patch of black leather covering his eye.

"You are curious?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I... I did not mean to stare or offend you-"

"You haven't. I wear it around others, as to not frighten them."

"What happened?" You hesitated as he shot you a small smirk.

"Inquisitive, aren't you?" He murmured, letting out a sigh. "When I was a child, I was attacked by someone in my family. It left me disfigured, unable to see out of my eye. And so I wear this to spare others of my wound."

"If they are truly frightened of it, then they are not worthy of looking upon it. It just shows how shallow and self centred people are, when they could instead be looking upon what really matters."

"And what would that be?" He raised an eyebrow, his head tilted to the side. He found your kindness, and the goodness within your heart both amusing and endearing. You saw such hope in the world where he only saw darkness, a darkness that dwelled and festered in his heart.

You may even see good in him.

A shame that was lost the moment his eye was stolen from him.

"You seem intelligent, an attribute that seems to be rarer and rarer to find these days," You replied. "You are well read, you have manners, you seem polite, observant. All admirable qualities to possess."

"I thank you for your kind words, princess," He nodded at you, bowing his head slightly and his hands resting behind his back.

"No. I should be thanking you. I have been trying to search for whoever saved me that day... so I could thank them. I am glad that I can finally do so. I would have died had you not have been there. So I do thank you, I am forever in gratitude to you. If there is anything I could do for you in return... I would be happy to do it..."

You regretted those words as soon as they left your mouth from the way Aemond's lip curved into a smile, one that sent a shudder down your spine. His eye darkened as you spoke, stepping closer to you. Instinctively, you took a step back, only to feel hard rock preventing you from moving further. Your heart was thumping in your chest, your legs feeling as though they could give out from beneath you as he was soon standing so close you could smell him, the scent of the sea lingering on his skin.

And he had you trapped.

Just like in the dream you'd experienced mere hours ago.

"There is something you could do," He murmured, slender fingers tracing up your arm. "A simple favour, if you will."

"And... and what is that?" You whispered. Was he going to touch you as he had done so in your dream? Take advantage of you?

"A kiss," He replied. "Just a simple kiss from you will suffice perfectly." As he spoke he ran his thumb over your lower lip, his other hand resting on your waist. Although cold and firm, his grip was not painful, but you were sure it could be if you rejected his wish.

"I... very well. If that is what you desire." You agreed, your words only making his eye darken. "But in return, I want to see you without your eyepatch."

Aemond tutted. "I didn't realise we were making such demands... but who am I to deny you, ñuha dārilaros. As you wish."

You nodded, meeting his gaze as he leaned forward and captured your lips with his. The kiss was hungry, consuming your every breath, swallowing your every whimper that slipped through your lips as he caught your bottom lip between his teeth, his hands clamped down on your waist, pulling your hips flush against his. Your hands moved to his biceps, gripping the leather, feeling how his muscle tensed beneath your touch.

Aemond pulled away but kept you pressed against him. One hand left your waist to reach up and pull the eyepatch off of him.

Your lips parted slightly as you gazed up at the sapphire glinting in the moonlight. Without realising it, your hand reached up to touch the scar running through his skin above and below his eye, but you faltered, moving to pull it away as you realised what you were doing. Aemond's hand grabbed your own, moving it back to his face, your fingertip tracing over the scar. There was a slight twitch under his eye at the contact, clearly not used to this sort of affectionate attention to his scar.

"I do not see anything frightening." You said, a gentle smile gracing your features.

"You are truly something else, ñuha dārilaros." He murmured, his hold on your waist tightening.

"No. I merely possess kindness that others do not have the privilege of having." You replied, trying to pull away, only for him to keep his hold on you.

"It is late, I should be getting back to the castle to get some rest." You attempted to excuse yourself from your new aquaintance.

"Just a moment," He replied. "I've technically granted you two things. I saved your life, and I showed you my eye. You granted me the courtesy of your kiss, but..." His lip twisted upwards. "You owe me one more thing."

You tried to ignore the pang of dread that struck your heart. "That depends... what did you have in mind?"

Aemond's smirk widened, leaning forward so his lips brushed against your ear, sending a small shudder through you as those two words left his lips.

"Marry me."

Jace awoke the next morning in the brightest of spirits, grabbing his shirt and throwing it over his head as he hurried out of his room and downstairs to greet you for breakfast, momentarily returning to his room to "brush" out a few of the knots in his curls.

Before he had the chance to leave for a second time, Cannibal suddenly came soaring through the open window, letting out a loud squawk as he crash landed on the rather hastily made bed. Scrambling to his feet, he made a series of shrill squawks, frantically waving his wings around and gesturing to a feather on his left wing.

Jace's brows furrowed in visible confusion as the bird continued his erratic gestures, a wing extending to where Jace's left hand hung by his side. He followed Cannibal's gesture to his ring finger, his expression clearing as he understood.

Engagement.

You were announcing an engagement...

...To him?

Had he succeeded?

Jace bolted out of his bedroom door, his heart swelling. He couldn't believe he was going to achieve what he'd always dreamed of- a life in the sun... with you.

The woman that he had found himself falling for ever since he had laid eyes on you.

He heard Grimsby's voice echo down the corridor as he approached the staircase.

"Well, Y/N, it seems I was, er... rather mistaken..."

Jace ducked behind a pillar close to the staircase, not wanting to intrude on the conversation. He peered round and caught sight of you, just about visible from where he was standing. He didn't want to move closer in case he was spotted by you or Grimsby.

"...This mystery man of yours does exist... and he seems very... respectable. Your name, sir?"

That made Jace's blood run cold, but want sent his heart sinking like a wrecked ship was the flash of silver hair as Aemond stepped forward, his voice loud and clear as he told Grimsby his name.

Prince Aemond Targaryen.

"A pleasure. And congratulations to you both." Grimsby politely replied, shaking Aemond's hand. "Now, I'm sure that you will want an announcement to both of your kingdoms in the next few days. And a party of course-"

"We wish to be married as soon as possible," You interrupted Grimsby, your harsh tone making both he and Jace flinch slightly. He had never heard you speak that way to anyone before.

"Oh, yes... of course, Y/N, but, er, but these things do take time, you know..."

"This afternoon," You replied, your voice still retaining that unusual coldness. Jace leaned forward slightly to see better, his jaw clenching slightly as he saw you, clad in a simple dress of sapphire blue, your hair naturally down. In your eyes, there was a slight vacancy, as though you weren't quite in the room. "The wedding ship departs at sunset."

Sunset?

No...

Jace couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. He had you within a fingertips' reach, so close to triumphing over Aemond, but now here his depraved uncle was, wrenching you from him with ease.

"A-as you wish, Y/N..." Grimsby sighed.

Jace couldn't take it anymore, tears welling up in his eyes as he ran back to his room, the door's slam echoing down the corridor. He slid down the door to the floor, bringing his knees up to his chest, letting the tears spill from his eyes.

If only he had stayed a little longer. He may have seen the vice like grip Aemond had on your waist, the way his other hand reached up to touch his dragon glass pendant, which glowed a deep blue beneath his touch, or the way that then made a blue glow cast in your eyes as you rested your head against his chest, the hand that was resting on his pendant moving to hold your hand in his.

But instead he cried, sobs racking through his body.

For himself

For his family.

And for you.

Masterlist

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#Aemond Targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x reader #Aemond Targaryen imagine #Jacaerys Velaryon #Jacaerys Velaryon x reader #Jacaerys Velaryon imagine #Jacaerys Velaryon x reader x Aemond Targaryen #House of the dragon #House of the dragon x reader #House of the dragon imagine

[isa-beenme]

I'm currently writing three things at the same time, but I felt a need to write something sad, something to break my heart and break all of you along, I can't be sad alone, thank you

The plot is basically: every bat boy's mate deal with depression in a different way, or "three different approaches of depression to three different brothers" (I felt so funny when I thought about this one)

So... do we want a part 2?

Trigger Warning: Self-destructive thoughts, depression

Prompt: Prythian saw the way that Rhysand's mate fell into depression but tried her best to get better. They saw the way that Cassian's mate fell into depression and turned it into pure anger and self-destruction. But... what if Azriel's mate simply... doesn't care?

What Was I Made For?

Sometimes I wish I didn't exist.

Not in the sense that I want to die. Far from it. I dread the thought of my own death. If I stop and imagine what happens afterward, I feel on the verge of panicking. Not death. Never death.

However, I like to think about how everything would be so much easier if I simply didn't exist. The number of responsibilities I could just let go of. The countless times I wouldn't have to rush and cry out of despair for feeling so useless would simply diminish. I would be so happy if I didn't exist.

I started thinking about this when I was 14.

It's been 500 years, and I remain the same.

Five hundred whole years where I feel inclined to ask the Mother to not exist.

But I do exist.

And that's what intrigues me.

I don't know who I am, and I just can't find something I like. There's nothing that keeps me here. Really.

That scares me.

A lot.

I mean, I spent my whole life studying in the Day Court, participating in politics, and learning from the High Lord Helion himself. I was supposed to be his successor. But then Lucien came into the scene and I became his spare. Or second in command. Works the same.

My objective was easy enough, everything I knew, I should teach him. And I did. We had fun. I guess. And then his father made a party to invite his "friends" for a celebration. He told me they weren't really his friends. I understood that feeling.

The Inner Circle of the Night Court sat across from us at the table. It didn't take long for the mating bond to snap between me and the Shadowsinger. The celebration became even bigger when he smiled at me.

And I smiled back.

I mean, how couldn't I, right? He seemed gentle and caring and his face was very pleasant to look at.

He courted me. He flirted, sent gifts, and traveled to the Day Court's capital every often to see me. I'm not sure what love means but I'm pretty sure it's something close to what I felt inside of me every time he looked into my eyes and smiled.

And yet, I feel I could not exist and it wouldn't change a thing.

But if I could make him happy maybe I would understand everyone's desire to be alive. I would understand what it is like to fight for your own life with the necessity to live another day.

That's why I accepted the mating bond.

We had a party. A dinner. A house. Vacations. Damn, the tower of gifts we had to open after almost three weeks of pure sex took me a month.

And yet, I feel I could not exist and it wouldn't change a thing.

We moved to Velaris. My role in the Day Court was long forgotten. I mean, I just said I don't care about anything, how could I care about a job I had just because I was good at it?

Being good at something doesn't mean I really need to live for it.

If so, I would be a dancer. Because I'm amazing at it, I have trophies, experience, and talent. But I'm not a dancer.

If so, I would be an actress. Because I'm amazing at it, I participated in hundreds of pieces, and interpreted tons of characters. But I'm not an actress.

If so, I would be a cook. Because I'm amazing at it, I'm the one in charge of making every meal and every cake for people's birthdays. But I'm not a cook.

If so, I would be a warrior. But I'm not a warrior.

If so, I would be a painter. But I'm not a painter.

If so, I would be a singer. But I'm not a singer.

If so, I would be a seamstress. But I'm not a seamstress.

And when I came to Velaris, almost two years ago I became Azriel's mate. And I hate it.

We easily fell into a routine with his Inner Circle. And now, there's no family that makes me want to keep on living. In fact, most of the time I feel even more exhausted when I'm with my family. Or Azriel's family, if I'm being real.

I feel suffocated by an enthusiasm and freedom I can't keep up with. My family isn't bad, not by a long shot, and certainly not up close. They are great. They stand up for the right causes, love to have fun, and are very liberal about any topic.

Except when the topic is me.

I'm the newest but also the oldest among all the female mates. And that kind of put me on a pedestal I never asked for. Something like: "If she did it, you could too, Feyre"; or else: "Even she couldn't do it, Nestha, don't worry about it"; I'm not a unit of measurement, but sometimes it feels like I'm nothing more than that.

Except when I'm with Lucien. He is the exception to the rule of 'I feel suffocated within the family circle'. I'm his favorite friend, obviously, but that's not the reason why we are so good together. He understands me and seems to grasp the feeling of not wanting to exist, even though we've never talked about it. So, he just exists by my side. And that's exactly what I need.

I don't worry about depression.

Or should I?

I am happy. Truly happy.

Not that people with depression aren't happy.

They must be.

I hope they are.

But sometimes I imagine myself going to a healer's office and pouring out everything I feel. But I never know where to start. So, I stop imagining.

I'm usually happy. Very happy. And this happens with my friends. Or anywhere away from my family. Everyone annoys me in some way. Except for Lucien.

Even when I'm alone, I feel extremely happy. Especially when I'm alone. Whenever I'm alone.

I actually hate studying. Which is basically my job.

But if that means staying away from my family, I seriously consider doing volunteer work at the Library during vague hours. Get a full-time job. Anything to keep me away. And contrary to expectations, I don't feel bad about thinking this way. I don't care.

And that scares me even more.

I don't care, and I don't react. Sometimes, I fall into a vast abyss of overwhelming emptiness, unable to separate reality from what's happening in my mind. I don't feel inclined to react with jokes or anything else. I don't care if they argue with me, yell, speak ill of me in the room next door, or debate on how to 'punish' me when I'm three steps away on the sidewalk.

It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters.

I've made my friends cry trying to prove a point I believe is right. It doesn't matter.

I've cried in front of friends so they'd accept what I was saying. It doesn't matter.

I also have the terrible habit of always wanting to be right. In everything. It doesn't matter if I'm wrong, it doesn't matter if someone will get hurt. I ALWAYS have to be right.

Sometimes I imagine I'm going too far in this abyss to the point of hurting myself. Or others.

And here's another characteristic of mine. I imagine too much. Most likely, I have three or four books written somewhere in my room. But I don't feel inclined to publish them or continue writing. It was just a phase. Just like everything else.

Just like my mating bond with Azriel. I love him, but… I'm not like the High Lord's or the General's mates. They… live for them.

I mean, Feyre is an amazing person, she's such a sweetheart. But as High Lady? I swear, she's more like a city mayor than anything else, she can barely read a full sentence without getting a headache from too much effort.

And Nestha? What a fearless female. She's amazing! But being the General of the Valkyries? Come on. They can't possibly think that, just because they cut a miserable string, they are actually able to fight as a battalion. Right?

Maybe I'm mean for thinking like that. Maybe I'm stupid. Or hateful. Or fake. Or cruel.

So I never say anything.

I keep imagining them. Every day.

It's fun.

Sometimes I like Azriel more than I like myself.

But I like most people more than I like myself.

Sometimes I hate myself.

Sometimes I like myself.

There's a thin line between my two states of mind.

Sometimes I think it's my fault.

Sometimes I think it's my mate's fault.

I don't feel bad about hating him whenever I feel anger spread through me. He also triggers the emptiness in my chest sometimes. He can be annoying with all his senseless conversations. The way he lives his life annoys me even more. Because he can do everything.

He's Azriel, the Shadowsinger, the Spymaster, the poor thing, the one who didn't grow up in a good place, the cute one, the funny one, the pretty one, the hot one, the smart one, the-

I don't know.

If I let the anger get me it will soon vanish. Just like every other feeling I ever let myself have.

You know the feeling of losing something you never knew you actually cared about? That's how I feel about my freedom. Not that Azriel took my freedom meaning that he restrains what I do or like I miss my single life (if I'm being honest I was never a lover to no one, Azriel was my second or third). But this bond took it from me.

I used to float around, doing different things every single day, but now I just fall down and down and down into my inner abyss. I could've been a dancer, an actress, a cook, a warrior, a painter, a singer, or a seamstress because I had the freedom to try it. Maybe I don't want to live for it but I want to live with it. Now I'm… his mate.

I used to know I was empty, but I'm not sure now that this bond keeps flooding itself with love and fear and pain and happiness.

I don't know what I was made for.

I don't know how to feel secure. But I wanna try. I don't know how to feel truly happy. But someday I might… Someday I might… try.

When did it all end? All the enjoyment. All the feelings.

It doesn't matter.

None of this matters.

Since I was 14, nothing matters.

And I wouldn't mind just not existing.

But I want to know what I was made for.

That's why I'm leaving.

#spotify #acotar #azriel × reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel/reader #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel x female!reader

[julianalvarez9]

you over anyone / christian pulisic

request: Hey can you do a BESTFRIEND to lovers imagine about Christian pulisic thats about one day he gets a gf and she’s rlly mean to the bestfr and he dosnt believe her and then he overhears the gf being rude and it’s all fluff and they kiss

word count: 1.9k

author's note: i never had written this much before???? clearly got too carried away lmao. hope you like it!! has some back and forth in the "timeline", italics are supposed to be memories!

being mason’s twin, and five minutes younger than him, it was no surprise to anyone when you started to follow him around everywhere he went, like a lost puppy. for the first few years of your life, he was your best friend, just as you were his. growing up as obsessed with football as him was a natural progression, and fully expected after seeing how much you enjoyed playing ball with your brother and his friends.

that's how you first met christian.

"hey, y/n, is it cool if we pick up a friend? his car bro-" mason tried to explain, as if you could get mad at him for helping a friend out. you were arriving early to training anyways, so picking up his friend wouldn't do any damage.

"it's okay, mason, it's your car" you laughed, still appreciating the fact that he was asking for your approval before actually doing it, making sure that you were comfortable.

since that day, even when his car was fixed, christian would always tag along you two for a ride to cobham. at first, he started making excuses, trying to not raise suspicions about his sudden interest in joining his friend to go to training. then, the visits to your brother’s house started growing exponentially, wishing and waiting that, someday, you'll be there. and when you were, the day just couldn't get any better for him: watching movies, playing games, cooking and eating the cookies he wasn't supposed to eat -because of his diet- only to hear your laugh was the highlight of his day. and because mason, who was involved since the beginning, -unfortunately for you two- had eyes and ears, he could see how you two looked at eachother and how you laughed harder when it was one of you that told the joke, even if they weren't half as funny. all of these facts he recollected quietly, helped him figure out what was happening quickly. quicker than the protagonists, at least.

"is there something going on between you and my sister ?" he asked suddenly, one day after training.

christian could feel how the blood drained from his face, leaving his whole upper body cold. he thought that, maybe, he could have a month or two more before confronting his friend about it. bust most importantly, before confronting his own feelings. after all, he had started dating a girl a few weeks before meeting you, and he felt like an asshole. she was nice, sure, but she wasn't you.

"we're just friends, mate. why?" 

he smiled, nodding, like he had answered correctly. at least, it was the answer mason wanted to hear. he said, in a jokingly tone, shoving him softly, "great. didn't feel like murdering my best friend for cheating on his girlfriend with my sister, you know?".

you had met christian's girlfriend, avery, at a game held at the bridge. you used to be there every game you could, always cheering for your brother and your best friend, but it was that particular game the first time that you saw her there, even when you knew that they had been dating for quite a bit. still, when you saw the girl, you understood why he had chosen her: she was like a dream, taken right out of a hollywood movie. but not only because of her perfect, model-like figure: she seemed sweet and kind, a girl perfect for christian, who, in your eyes, deserved nothing but the best. you were actually excited to have finally met her, hoping to get a girl friend to hangout with, someone who you could talk about your love life without feeling weird about it, like it happened when you tried to talk about love with your american friend sometimes. you had started off on a good foot, and christian was glad to see you two getting along.

you had disappeared to the bathroom quietly during halftime, wanting to come back as fast as possible to not miss anything. apparently, christian's significant other had gotten the same idea, entering the bathroom a few minutes before you, just as you were about to exit the cubicle. you could hear her and her friend, who she came along with, talking about someone, so you didn't dare come outside just yet, opting to stay quietly.

wrong choice.

you guessed that her friend was the one talking, since you didn’t quite recognize her voice. "who's that girl that's been screaming nonstop?", she said, and you cringed internally when you realized that it was probably you. confirmation hit a few seconds later, when avery shared the information with her. 

"that's christian's best friend".

she giggled, loud and obnoxious, like the mean, popular girls in teenage drama movies did. "god, she's so annoying". you figured it was too late now to get out of the cubicle, even if you didn’t want to hear more about their conversation, fearing you could learn what she really thought about you. oblivious to your presence in the room, the other girl continued. "did you see how long she hugged him before he left? she's 100% in love with him" she joked, and even when you knew that it was a lie -at least, that was what you told yourself each time someone commented about your relationship with christian-.

the self doubt started to hit harder when the girl you had just met, who pretended to be friendly with you, continued to tell her friend what she had learned from your previous encounter. "i know, right? i just met her and i already can't stand her". 

god, why were they taking so long? why couldn’t they just leave? 

you didn't want to know more information, you had learned enough to last you a lifetime. certainly, enough to keep your distance with avery. 

and with christian too.

"if she bothers you that much, why don't you make him choose?" her friend suggested, and your racing thoughts feared that she already had delivered her ultimatum. after all, she was his girlfriend, and it was a no-brainer that he would choose her.

and when you thought that, surely, it couldn't get worse, it did.

"it's insignificant, really. he'll never pick her. he already told me she's mason's little sister, so she's like a little sister to him too".

getting out of the bathroom just in time before the whistle blew, indicating the start of the second half, and having to sit next to avery and offer her a smile, was one of the hardest things you had to do. at least, during that day.

after the incident, you decided to keep your distance. no longer going to the bridge in fear of crossing paths again and having to pretend that you didn’t hear what she said, putting on a friendly mask, was enough to convince you that it wasn’t your place anymore. it had been difficult to justify your choice with christian, who inquired you about it the first weekend you missed, and they unfortunately had lost the match. eventually, you figured that you couldn't lie to him about being sick every weekend, so you made something up, like your schedule with college had just gotten too crazy to handle in the last couple of weeks.

mason, knowing you like the palm of his hand, didn’t buy it. but he also knew that he shouldn’t push it, and you would, in due time, tell him what was going on. he was your twin brother, after all. you couldn’t hide the truth from him forever.

that was how you ended at christian’s birthday party, without wanting to. all thanks to your brother’s persuasion.

it had started well, really. you had greeted the birthday boy when you two arrived at his once, but since then, he seemed to have banished from the face of the earth, and you, for once, were glad with his disappearance. 

to endure the night, you had resolved to alcohol, which proved to have been not the wisest decision when it was time to meet with christian again, all warnings made by your sober brain about not going near him, in case his girlfriend was close, flew right through the wind when the first drop of alcohol entered your bloodstream. that was how you ended up dancing with him, maybe a bit too close to be excused as just friendly.

"stay away from him" a female voice was heard from behind you when you went to grab another drink. in your drunk, slurred brain, you couldn’t decipher who she was referring to, even if you recognized it was avery speaking. "what? from who?".

the girl rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed at your ignorance. "don't play silly now. you know christian's with me. he's about to propose, and there's no place for the both of us, so back off. I don't care that you're his fucking best friend or whatever shit you made him believe. he'll never chose you over me".

the harshness in her tone had drained the alcohol out of your system, and you found yourself to be in an awkward position after processing what she had just said. 

proposing?

unknown to you, christian was looking for you, since you had disappeared from his sight for far too long. when he saw the two of you, a confused expression was painted on his features, and his anger grew at hearing what she was telling you, even if he just got to catch the last part. "what the fuck are you talking about, avery?".

"I'm sick of her. you'll have to choose. it's me or her".

he frowned at her request, but still made his way over to you, standing so close that you could feel his chest touching your back. "i thought that i had made it clear that we’re over" he coldly said. the girl in front of you let out a furious scream, face turned red, and shoving whoever came in her way, earning herself some nasty glares. clearly avery had thought that you were the reason behind their breakup, but honestly, you had no idea that they weren’t together anymore, after almost totally cutting contact with him to avoid her. nevertheless, her plan of getting to talk to you alone and draw you away from him had clearly backfired.

“why didn’t you tell me before that she was mean to you?” christian said, with a stoic expression. you shrugged, “thought that you would have believed her instead”. he shaked his head in clear disagreement, questioning you again. “was she the reason you stopped going to the matches?”. having never been capable of lying to christian, even if it would be wise to hide the information to him, you conceded. “you’ve caught me”.

mason, who was hearing everything at a prudent distance as to not be seen, joined you two before christian could actually react to what you just had admitted. “can you start going again then? christian can’t score a goal even if his life depended on it if you aren't cheering him on from the stands,” he grinned, cheshire cat’s smile painted on his face, as he saw the faces of the two people that he appreciated the most, a shade of red. “mason!” you two groaned in unison, embarrassed at how the english one had put you on display.

#christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x y/n #football x y/n #football x reader #football imagine