#//i am holding you. so close. respectfully. but close !!!!

[oshygoshy]

1:38 am

word count - 524 words

warnings - slightly suggestive

a/n - wow 2 whole writings?? yeah ik im spoiling my 23 followers...get ready for 4 months of radio silence from me after this though

"how would you describe me to the police if i went missing?" 

"...i'm sorry?"

miya atsumu, professional volleyball player (and who should be asleep by now...!) rolls over, unceremoniously plopping his elbow next to your nose. his shifting weight caused the bed to dip, and you felt your body tipping towards his (because of physics, not for any other reason...!!).

he squinted at you in the dark. "ya heard what i said."

"yeah, and it was stupid. and i'm tired. so please repeat it?" you say, holding back a yawn. "don't you have practice in like...4 and a half hours anyway-"

"hush, baby." (you'd be lying if you didn't get tingles from the pet name.) "jus' answer me?"

you rested your temple on his bicep, curling your body against his (again, physics), and hummed absentmindedly. what a strange question. 

"uhh...suspect has an ath-"

"suspect?? not victim???" he whispered furiously. in the dim moonlight, you could see his eyebrows furrow in mock anger. "whaddya mean suspect??" 

you smirked at his indignation. placing your pointer finger gently over his lips, you gently shushed him. "hush, baby," you mirror him. you could feel his lips twitch down in a frown. 

"ok let me start again. the suspect has an athletic build, is tall, and..." your eyes flit downward (respectfully, to answer his question. nothing more.) "'s pretty muscular."

"pretty mus-excuse me?? i'm very muscular-"

this time, you silence him with a kiss (to shut him up, not for any other reason!!) which works very effectively. he immediately stops talking and places his free hand on your waist. 

"yeah, petty muscular. strong abs-" you punctuate this statement by taking a hand and gently tracing his stomach under his shirt. you could hear his breath stutter, but pretend you don't notice. "great ass," you say with a cheeky giggle as your hand wanders, and he lets out a snort. "and a waist that would make any girl jealous. oh, and the best part?" you move your hand downward. his eyebrows raise but fall back when your hand stops at his thigh. "really nice thighs. like, really nice. they're really juicy, trust me, officer. you'd recognize them from an ocean away." 

your hand pats his thigh politely before you move it back up. 

"got me excited for a sec. yer hand was awfully close to sometime else for a bit," he mumbled into your hair. 

"whoops," you say, not very apologetic. 

"i don't like it when ya tease me," he continued. 

you push yourself back against his chest, looking at him with a raised brow. "oh, we both know that's a lie." 

he blushed, which you also pretended to not notice. "i don't like it when you tease me and do nothing about it. correction."

you sigh, setting yourself against his body. "well, i'm sleepy and you need to get up early. but.."

"...but?"

"i'm free this weekend," you say nonchalantly. 

he kissed the top of your head, grinning. "deal."

...

"so, who do you think is more muscular than me?"

"tsumu, please."

"it's bokkun, isn't it? it's ok, that's valid. he's really beefy."

"atsumu."

"okay, okay. sorry, sweets. goodnight."

[ghost-facess]

hand placement

[outofthiisworld]

idk if this was a meme or something but not me seeing you talking about ophelia and needing to come in here to say that I LOVE her. never mind that I'm slow af and need to send more memes but I catch myself reading a lot of your threads on the dash when I'm on it, especially ophelia's because I love her energy and the way she has this liveliness to her, this almost devil may care whoops!! something went wrong how awful air but she's actually!! hnnnnnn. and I love the way she shows her affections

she brings a hell of a lot of life to the dash in a super neat way. PLUS I am such a sucker for interconnected muses and sprawling storylines and even just seeing the way your (yes I have to specify hahahaha) doc and ophelia interact with each other in your posts and the relationship they have and the way they care makes me feel some type of way.

RE: Red being an absolute doll !!!

👽// COUGHING BLOOD o—oh GREAT SCOTT!!!

Apologies for the hot minute it took to respond to such a lovely message; every time i’d go to respond i kept getting rendered speechless and rereading this a la [tails gets trolled.png here] <- BEYOND AFFECTIONATE BTW !!!! IM JUST !!!!! WAAAH WOW !!!!!

i’m extremely ecstatic that you think so highly of her and even more flattered that you take a peek at her threads too when they pop up!!! She’s a character that really took to her own once i decided to let her be goofy, playful and lackadaisical while still trying to go for an underlying haunted horror when creating her so i am just ✨🌷💖🌈⭐ :”””) thank yoooooou <3

In a way, I really think I took a lot more inspiration from back to the future than I realized (doc’s name aside that one is obvious sdrfgisdfgh it was supposed to just be a placeholder name when i first name him). Something something parallels between our dynamic duos going through so much together and coming out the other end despite everything with an unshakable, unbreakable familial bond and oh man ........ im stopping myself there cause im feeling a certain kinda way too aaaugh

also 🤝🤝🤝 heard felt and seen dude, from one slow writer to another: there’s never any pressure or time restraint at all for anything, we are simply here to vibe (there’s a lil coffee thread in my drafts between our docs thats been there since february so truly #mood 🫡 oopsie!) — i absolutely adore seeing you pop up on my dash be it either ic or ooc! the fun-loving and super welcoming, high-spirited energy you bring to this community never fails to brighten up my day!!!

[primofate]

Drop the towel wrapped around you and appear naked in front of your Genshin husband

In a nutshell: That old tiktok challenge/prank. In your private, shared home of course.

Warnings: My perpetual warning as a writing mother is that I am sleep deprived. Very VERY sleep deprived. SUGGESTIVE: BORDERING ON NOT SAFE FOR WORK, written on a 10 minute timer please be gentle

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, implied fem!reader

Personal Favourites: Tighnari

Aether

chokes on nothing

"Y-Y-Y/N?! What're you doing?"

Comes up to you and tries to cover you up with the towel again, as if it was a sin to look at you naked in broad daylight.

Full on blush on his face and respectfully tries to look away.

"Don't surprise me like that!"

Seems not to like it but actually likes it too much to the point of getting embarrassed for himself.

Yes he's your husband but is still a precious respectful man

Albedo

Blinks a couple of times but appreciates your beauty and gives your body a slow once over. Chuckles in amusement afterwards.

"Is there a reason for this?"

Just to get his reaction, you admit.

"Well..." starts walking towards you. "I do have higher self-control than most others... but let it be known that I'm far from immune to my..."

Stops in front of you and yet again seems to eat you up with his eyes. "...needs," ends with a suspiciously sweet smile.

Alhaitham

Can't help but be a bit surprised and you can see it by the way his eyebrows go up as soon as the towel hits the floor.

Opens his mouth to say something but closes it again, as if hesitating, which is really strange for someone like him.

"...Is this the part where I sweep you off your feet and carry you to our room?" there's a bit of amusement in his tone. Stands to walk over to you.

Places a hand on your waist.

"Cause I can guarantee you that we DON'T need to be in our bedroom for things to happen...but you knew that already, right?"

Ayato

Quirks his eyebrows up, amused smile appearing on his face.

"I must say, this is a lovely surprise,"

Traces your figure with his eyes. Then approaches you to hold your waist and dip in to kiss your neck softly.

"How could I ever resist, my love, when you're standing in front of me in all your magnificence?"

Takes the longest time just admiring and basking in your beauty, tracing every little part of your skin.

Baizhu

Lets pretend the snake ain't here okay?

Does a double take.

"Y/N, first off, you'll get a cold,"

Pushes his spectacles up and gives you a once over.

"Second, you'll give me a heart attack,"

Beckons you over gently with his hand. "Come over, I suppose it's been a while since...I've done a full body check,"

Hides a grin.

Cyno

Blankly looks at you and is still processing what is happening

"Y/N? Is this... Did I do something?"

Is so suspicious that this was some kind of trap.

You tell him its simply to get a reaction out of him.

Immediately shoots out of his seat and catches your wrist.

"Then...Is it my turn to get one out of you? There's several ways to do that...and I know your favourite ones,"

Diluc

Eyes follow the towel down to the floor and head snaps back up to blink at the sight in front of him. Recovers quickly.

Chuckles as he stands and walks over. Picks up the towel and drapes it around your shoulders. "Only because it's quite chilly tonight,"

but still ends up inching the towel off your shoulder, tracing your collarbone. "Although, as your husband, I suppose it IS my job to keep you warm... So how would you like it today, love?"

Itto

"WHOA!" by instinct covers his eyes with his hands but his fingers are actually splayed apart so he can totally see through the gaps

Feels himself getting aroused

I mean the guy gets turned on even just at the sight of your neck

Suddenly stands and walks over to you, easily hoists you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and makes a beeline to your shared room.

"You're asking for it Y/N!"

Kaeya

"Oho?"

Sits back and relaxes, he doesn't really know what he was expecting. Some type of show maybe. "What's this? Finally giving me that lap dance you owe me, snowflake?"

Laughs but you're incredibly flustered at the suggestion.

Beckons you over and grabs you by the waist to sit on his lap.

"Feel that?" he whispers in your ear.

Oh you feel it alright, pressing at your upper thigh.

"Now whose fault is that? You'll have to do something about it now, love,"

Kaveh

"Archons!"

Looks away with a blush on his cheeks.

"Put something on!"

Yes he's seen you naked before, you're married, but the guy's always flustered in unexpected events.

You provoke him further by coming over, sitting sideways on his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Y/N!" He looks down at you and can't help but look at your nakedness in full and close view.

Gulps but starts to feel his body heat up, his hands suddenly, assertively planting themselves on your waist as he meets your eyes. "I don't care what you say about yourself, but know that you're the only one who takes me from 0 to a 100 in a second,"

Kazuha

"Y/N?" Chuckles nervously and takes in the sight of your body.

Smiles at you and takes your hand to kiss the back of it.

"I've seen you countless of times... Each time, I'm reminded by how fortunate I am that you chose me to take care of you,"

Caresses your cheek all the way down to your jawline. "You're beautiful, Y/N,"

He has the most tender and gentle look on his face, but its mixed with a passion that you've never seen on anyone before. "Let me show you how much I love you, dear,"

Neuvillette

Eyebrows twitches upwards in surprise. Has no clue what to do in this new situation.

He doesn't say anything but is most definitely enjoying the view of your body. You see his jaw tense up, as if he's clenching his teeth.

"Ahem," he starts. Then seems to have the most trouble prying his eyes away to meet your gaze. "Is this...perhaps another way to tell me... that you would like some attention?"

You say not really and just wanted to see how he would react.

"Ah," he lets out, as if understanding and as if the conversation has ended.

A moment of silence passes and you're starting to wonder if that was all he was going to do. But he then stands and places a gentle hand on your bare waist. "...So you're simply doing it, as people would say, 'for fun'?"

He asks, and you say yes innocently. He smiles a bit and has another hand cupping your face and thumbing your lips. "I see," breathes out slowly.

"Unfortunately, for your actions, the Iudex feels that a punishment is in order,"

Scaramouche

Raises one eyebrow as if he's bored. Then smirks.

"If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask," pulls you by the waist and makes you straddle him "But this is good too,"

Hands actually start to grope you up and down. Will fondle and squeeze in private places immediately.

"What? Startin' to feel good? S'what you get when you play games with me,"

will smack your butt the first chance he gets

Tartaglia

Immediately jumps up and in an automatic daze, eyes glued to his favourite parts, trudges towards you and attempts to bury himself in softness.

You quickly stop him and in turn HE quickly stops you. Hands easily bunching your wrists up together and angling them upwards above your head.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he grins down at you. "Someone's being naughty,"

You complain that he reacts too fast.

Laughs, but his hand starts to unbuckle his pants and there's a dark look in his eyes. "Oh, I'm just being naughty back. When you want something, Y/N, believe it when I say I'll GIVE it to you,"

Tighnari

ear twitches. Tail swishes back and forth. Does not show any expression except slight curiosity.

"What's the occasion?"

You tell him that you just wanted to see his reaction.

He hums and nods slowly, like processing some type of complicated information.

"Wait here, I'll be back in a minute,"

You ask him where he's going and you're a bit upset at the lack of response from him.

He chuckles and returns to you, tail angling upwards in an attempt to wrap and brush against your waist. Takes your hand, presses your wrist against his lips and seems to take a slow breath in.

"I'm merely clearing off my schedule for today. Now, be patient, I'll be back,"

Wriothesley

Almost spits out his drink but gulps it all down instead.

Eyes widen a fraction at the sudden act but his hand is already loosening his tie.

"Wait right there precious," chuckles while he says this, tie already falling to the ground, now unbuttoning his vest. At the same time walks over to you urgently as if you're going to disappear but laughs nervously while he's at it.

"I swear you'll be the death of me,"

Looks like he's going to pounce on you but when he reaches you he only gives you a chaste kiss, as if asking for permission first.

You suddenly remind him that he has a LOT of things to do today, appointments and all.

Actually barks out a quick laugh. "You're not really expecting me to walk out now? As far as I'm concerned," pulls you flush against him and kisses your jaw "The only thing I need to do today is you,"

Xiao

"Wh-Wh-What do you think you're doing?!"

caught unprepared. Crosses his arms and looks away. Pretends he's uninterested but his eyes still dart back to look at you.

You ask him if he likes what he sees.

He now completely looks away from you. A few seconds pass and when he turns his head back to look at you there's now a carnal look in his eyes.

He walks towards you slowly and captures your chin to tilt it up. Looks down at you as if he hasn't eaten a meal in days.

"...When I'm done with you tonight you'll get your answer,"

Zhongli

Chuckles. Amused.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, dear?"

You shrug and even do a turn for him. He watches you carefully and takes in the image in front of him.

Smiles and strides over towards you. "Truly a magnificent sight," brushes his fingers against your neck

His eyes trail downwards and isn't shy about looking at your body. "Might I remind you my dear, my stamina surpasses that of a normal human," he smiles at you sincerely.

You tell him that you're well aware. He just chuckles again.

"Then you know well what'll come next,"

End

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[astrxq]

Hey! I love The Dragon's Bride so much, I must have read it like 5 times already. You have beautiful writing and the fact that it's 17k is even better.

If your requests are still open, I wanted to throw an idea your way. Seeing how isolated the Blacks are getting, with the Greens conquering everything around them by land, Rhaenyra is desperate to forge another alliance that will bring her more ground stability. The perfect lord that can bring this to her only wants one thing in return: for his grandson to be the future king. So she is forced to break Jace's engagement to Baela so he can marry the lord's only daughter instead. That angst because Jace has feelings for Baela before the fluff of him discovering his feelings for his new wife like fjehdhw

It's totally okay if you don't vibe with the idea and don't want to write it btw!!

Conspiracy of Hearts

jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

words: 23k

notes: thank you sooooo much anon <33, i love long fics (as you can probably tell) and i'm so so glad you enjoyed it. non-canon events, jace x baela at times, a made up lord. a bit of angst?? - fluffy. unnecessarily long fic, i apologize. i am NOT proud of this one 😭

The air in the great hall of Dragonstone was thick with tension, the stone walls seeming to close in as Queen Rhaenyra paced before the ancient Painted Table. The room was eerily quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the hearth fire and the soft rustle of her skirts as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her fingers traced the carved coastline of Westeros, lingering over the territories that had fallen to the Greens’ hands. 

"Your Grace," a voice called from beyond the heavy oak doors. "Prince Jacaerys has arrived."

Rhaenyra straightened, composing herself with visible effort. "Send him in," she commanded, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her eyes.

The doors swung open, and Jacaerys Velaryon strode in. At nine-and-ten, he was already a man grown, with the bearing of one much older. His hands rested on his sword as he approached his mother with calm.

"Your Grace," he said, bowing his head respectfully. "You summoned me?"

Rhaenyra's gaze softened as it fell upon her eldest son. "Jace," she began, then faltered. For a moment, the mask of queenship slipped, revealing the anguish beneath. "I'm afraid I have dire news."

Jace's posture stiffened, bracing himself for whatever blow was to come.

"The Greens have taken Tumbleton," Rhaenyra continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "Our hold on the Reach is slipping. If we do not act soon, all will be lost."

Jace nodded gravely. "What would you have me do, Mother? I can fly to Tumbleton on Vermax, rally our forces–"

"No," Rhaenyra cut him off sharply. "I need you here, Jace. What I ask of you... it is not a battle to be fought with dragon fire, but with words and... promises."

A heavy silence fell over the room. Jacaerys took a deep breath, straightening his posture once again as he nodded once at his mother, silently promising to fulfill his duty.

"Lord Redfort has offered his support," Rhaenyra said at last. "His armies, his gold, his influence in the Vale. With his backing, we could turn the tide of this war."

Jace's eyes lit up with hope. "That's wonderful news, Mother. Why do you look so troubled?"

Rhaenyra's laugh was bitter and hollow. "Because nothing comes without a price, my son. And Lord Redfort's price is... steep."

Understanding dawned on Jace's face, followed swiftly by a flash of fear that he quickly masked. "What does he want?"

"He wants assurance that his family's loyalty will be rewarded," Rhaenyra said, each word seeming to pain her. "He demands that his grandson be promised the throne."

The implication hung heavy in the air. He felt a tightness in his chest, knowing what this meant for Jace, for Baela, for the future that had been carefully planned since their childhood.

"But... Baela..." Jace's voice was barely audible, a mixture of confusion and growing dread.

"I know," Rhaenyra said, and for a moment her composure cracked entirely. She moved to her son, taking his hands in hers. "My boy, my sweet boy. If there were any other way..."

Jace pulled away, his face a storm of emotions. "There must be another way. We can offer Lord Redfort something else, anything else."

"Don't you think I've tried?" Rhaenyra's voice rose in frustration. "I've offered titles, lands, positions at court. Nothing will sway him. It's this, or we lose everything we've fought for."

Jace turned away, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. The firelight cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the anguish etched there. "And what of Baela?" he asked at last, "What am I to tell her?"

Rhaenyra's shoulders sagged. "It is duty that will drive us to victory, my son."

"So I am to marry Lord Redfort's granddaughter," Jace said flatly. It wasn't a question.

"His daughter," Rhaenyra corrected gently. "She is but a year younger than you."

Jace's laugh was hollow. "As if that matters. I don't know her. I don't love her."

"Love?" Rhaenyra's voice hardened. "Love is a luxury we cannot afford in times of war, Jacaerys. You are a prince of the realm. Your duty is to your family, to your people. Sometimes that duty requires sacrifice."

Jace's jaw clenched. For a moment, Rhaenyra feared he would refuse outright. But then, slowly, the fight seemed to drain out of him. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

"When?" he asked simply.

"Lord Redfort and his daughter will arrive within a fortnight," Rhaenyra said, relief evident in her voice. "The betrothal will be announced immediately, and the wedding will take place as soon as it can be arranged after the war."

Jace nodded mutely, his eyes unfocused, staring at something only he could see. Without another word, he turned and strode from the room. The heavy doors slammed shut behind Jace as he stormed out of the great hall. His mind reeled, the weight of his mother's words pressing down upon him like a physical force. 

Without thinking, his feet carried him to the one place he knew he would find solace – or perhaps, he realized with a pang of guilt, the one place he shouldn't go.

Baela was in the dragon pit, tending to Moondancer. The young dragon chirped softly as she ran her hand over the scales, the sound echoing in the cavernous space. She looked up as Jace approached, her expression shifting from surprise to concern as she took in his troubled demeanor.

"Jace?" she called, setting down her hand. "What is wrong?"

For a moment, Jacaerys couldn't speak. He simply stood there, drinking in the sight of her – the way the torchlight glinted off her silver-gold hair, the gentle curve of her lips, the strength and grace in her movements. Everything he was about to lose.

"It's over," he finally managed, his voice hoarse. "Our betrothal. It's... it's been broken."

Baela's eyes widened, but to Jace's surprise, there was no shock in them. Only a deep, resigned sadness. "I see," she said softly. "The alliance with Lord Redfort?"

Jace nodded, a bitter laugh escaping him. "Of course you've heard. Nothing stays secret for long in this damned castle."

“Her Grace mentioned she was working with sending ravens for alliances, I only figured.” she said softly, patting her dragon’s head one last time before taking two steps towards him.

"Jace," Baela said, her voice gentle but firm. "You know as well as I do that this war demands sacrifices from all of us."

Her calm acceptance only fueled his frustration. He began to pace, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Sacrifices? Is that what we're calling it now? Throwing away the betrothal made in honor of my brother’s heirship, everything we've planned for years, all for the sake of some lord's support?"

"It's not just some lord," Baela reminded him. "It's the key to holding the Vale. Without it–"

"I know it!" Jace snapped, immediately regretting his harsh tone. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I know what is at stake, Baela. But it is unfair."

Baela stepped closer, her eyes full of understanding and a pain that mirrored his own. "Our duty is to our family, to the realm. Personal happiness... it is a luxury we can't afford right now."

Jacaerys felt the fight drain out of him, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. 

Baela reached out, taking his hand in hers. Her touch was warm, familiar, and Jace had to resist the urge to pull her close and never let go. Jacaerys looked at her, marveling at her strength, her composure in the face of this devastating news. 

"How can you be so calm about this?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

A sad smile played at the corners of Baela's lips. "Because one of us has to be," she said. "And because I've always known that our duty might ask this of us one day. It doesn't make it easier, but... I've had time to prepare myself for the possibility."

Jace felt a wave of shame wash over him. Here he was, raging against the unfairness of it all, while Baela faced their shared loss with grace and dignity. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I should be stronger. Like you."

Baela shook her head, squeezing his hand. "You are strong, Jace. But it's alright to be angry, to be hurt. Just... don't let it consume you. The realm needs you. Your mother needs you."

Jace felt a swell of admiration for her, mixed with a deep, aching sorrow for what they were losing. "I don't know if I can do this without you," he admitted.

Baela's expression softened. She reached up, cupping his cheek in her hand. "You can," she assured him. "You must. And I'll be here, Jace. Not as your wife, but as your cousin, your friend, your ally. That will never change."

For a long moment, they stood there, the weight of their shared past and the uncertain future hanging between them. Then, slowly, Jace nodded. "I must ready for my betrothed’s arrival, then.”

The new use of the word felt bitter against his tongue, eyes refusing to meet Baela’s as he uttered the words. 

Jacaerys took a deep breath, straightening his shoulders. He knew Baela was right. It was time to face his duty, no matter how much it hurt. With one last look at the woman he had thought would be his future, he turned and walked out of the dragon pit.

The days leading up to Lord Redfort's arrival passed in a blur of mounting tension and barely contained dread for Jacaerys. Each morning, he woke with a heavy heart, the weight of his impending duty pressing down on him like a tangible force. His chambers, usually a sanctuary, felt more like a prison, the stone walls closing in as he counted down the days to the fateful meeting.

He threw himself into his work, training with his sword until his muscles ached and his mind was numb. The clashing of steel, the grunts of exertion, and the rhythm of his footwork became his solace until his hands bled in show of his efforts. But no matter how fiercely he fought, the looming reality of his betrothal was inescapable. His sparring partners, sensing his turmoil, gave him space, their concerned glances only serving to deepen his isolation.

Meals were equally oppressive. The great hall buzzed with whispered conversations and furtive looks. Jacaerys ate in silence, his appetite waning with each passing day. His brothers tried to cheer him with tales of their latest exploits, but their words fell flat, unable to penetrate the fog of his thoughts. Even the usually boisterous presence of his dragon, Vermax, did little to lift his spirits. The bond they shared felt strained, as if the beast sensed his master's inner turmoil.

The evenings were the hardest. As the castle settled into a quiet lull, Jacaerys found himself wandering the halls, seeking solace in familiar places. He often ended up in the dragon pit, watching the majestic creatures in their pens. Baela was always there, her presence a bittersweet comfort. They spoke little, their shared silence a testament to the unspoken pain that lingered between them. Yet he felt as if their bond had not changed one bit.

Often, Baela approached him. Her face was always serene, but her eyes held a sadness that mirrored his own. “This... brooding will only make things harder." she’d tell him. And everytime Jacaerys would nod and mumble about understanding what his duty is. 

Her words, though comforting, did little to ease the ache in his heart. He’d squeeze her hand in silent gratitude, then turn away, retreating to the solitude of his chambers. Sleep was elusive, his dreams haunted by visions of a future that now seemed out of reach.

————

The fortnight passed agonizingly slowly, each day blending into the next. The castle was a hive of activity, preparations for Lord Redfort's arrival consuming everyone's attention. Jacaerys found himself caught in a whirlwind of fittings, rehearsals, and diplomatic meetings. His mother, ever the strategist, drilled into him the importance of this alliance, reminding him of the stakes with every passing moment.

Finally, the day arrived. The great hall was adorned with banners and finery, the air thick with the scent of fresh flowers and polished armor. Jacaerys stood by his mother's side, his expression a mask of stoic resolve. He fidgeted with his fingers, his chest heaving every time he would steal a glance at Baela, who would simply give him a small smile and a supporting nod. 

As the hours passed, anticipation hung in the air like a heavy fog. Jacaerys stood in the great hall, the weight of his impending duty pressing down upon him. His armor gleamed under the torchlight, a stark contrast to the turmoil within. The arrival of Lord Redfort and his retinue was imminent, each passing moment marked by the echoing footsteps in the corridor beyond.

Rhaenyra, resplendent in her queenly attire, stood beside her son with an air of regal composure that belied the storm of emotions beneath. Her eyes occasionally flicked towards Jacaerys, a silent reassurance amidst the grand preparations, but he didn’t meet her gaze. The hall buzzed with whispered conversations and the rustle of silk as courtiers and advisors moved about, ensuring everything was perfect for the crucial meeting.

At last, the doors swung open with a resounding thud, and Lord Redfort entered with measured steps as the maesters announced his name and title. His presence commanded attention – a high lord of the Vale, his face weathered by years of governance and warfare. You walked beside him, your features bore a striking resemblance to your father. Your eyes, however, betrayed a hint of nervousness and curiosity as you glanced around the hall before settling on his.

Jacaerys's heart skipped a beat as his eyes met yours for the first time. You were beautiful, with cascading hair and a determined set to your jaw that spoke of your noble upbringing. He knew your name but little else. And yet, he knew you were not Baela. 

Lord Redfort approached Queen Rhaenyra with a deep bow, which she acknowledged with a nod. 

Your gaze finally settled on the figures at the far end of the hall – Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, regal and formidable, and beside her, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. Your breath caught in your throat as you studied your betrothed. He was everything the stories had claimed – tall and handsome, with the striking features of his bloodline. But there was something else, a tension in his stance, a heaviness in his eyes that spoke of inner turmoil.

As your father bowed to the Queen, you sank into a deep curtsy, willing your voice to remain steady as you spoke. "Your Grace, Prince Jacaerys," you said, "It is an honor to be welcomed to Dragonstone."

Queen Rhaenyra's voice was warm but tinged with an underlying steel as she replied, "We are most pleased to welcome you and your father, Lady Y/n. Your presence here marks a new chapter in the alliance between our houses."

You rose from your curtsy, your eyes meeting Jacaerys's once more. His mother turned to look at him, urging him to speak. For a fleeting moment, you thought you saw a flicker of curiosity in his gaze, quickly masked by the cool formality of his response. 

"The honor is ours, we hope you find Dragonstone to your liking."

You couldn't help but notice the way Jacaerys's gaze occasionally drifted to a silver-haired young woman standing off to the side. The look they shared spoke volumes – a mixture of pain, resignation, and something deeper that made your heart sink. This, you realized, must be Lady Baela, the woman who had held your betrothed's heart until duty tore them apart.

The weight of the situation settled more heavily upon you. The challenge before you seemed insurmountable – to win the trust, perhaps even the affection, of a man whose heart clearly belonged to another.

You gazed up to your father, his serious expression settled on the Queen, arms stiffly linked and resting on his chest. “I assume my wishes were clear, Your Grace. I do not wish to impose but…”

“They were, Lord Redfort. And I assure you, your proposal is being given the utmost consideration.”

Jace’s eyes flickered to yours for a moment, his expression almost unreadable as he blinked at you, trying to gauge your own thoughts on the matter. You inhaled deeply as his eyes moved to Baela’s once again, you followed his train of sight.

Baela’s chest tightened once your eyes met, yours apologetic and Jacaerys’ hurt.

As the negotiations drew to a close, Queen Rhaenyra announced the betrothal formally. "Let it be known," she proclaimed, her voice carrying authority and finality, "that Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and Lady Y/n Redfort are betrothed in the sight of gods and men."

The words hung in the air, sealing the fate of all involved. Jacaerys glanced at you, his eyes conflicted yet resigned. You offered him a small, sympathetic smile, understanding the weight he carried upon his shoulders. He simply offered a tight-lipped smile before he followed after his mother.

Baela’s eyes traced his path down the hall, a sigh escaping her lips as she approached you. “I will walk you to your chambers, let you settle in properly.”

As you walked with Baela through the corridors of Dragonstone, her presence was a calming influence amidst the turmoil swirling within you. The castle walls seemed to echo with the weight of the recent betrothal announcement, yet Baela's gentle demeanor offered a brief respite from the tension.

"I hope your journey here was not too arduous, Lady Y/n," Baela said softly, her voice carrying a genuine concern.

You nodded, grateful for her kindness. "It was quite pleasant… I still have to get acquainted with the change of weather, though.”

She moved to link her arm with yours, the gesture surprised you, awaiting resentment and coldness from her after the broken betrothal between her and the prince. 

"Dragonstone can be quite humid to newcomers", Baela continued as she led you through the winding corridors of Dragonstone. Her touch was reassuring, her smile sincere.

"You'll find the climate more forgiving as you settle in," she assured you, her voice gentle. "It takes some time to get used to the island's rhythms, but there's a beauty to it once you do."

Her words offered a small measure of comfort amidst the uncertainty. You glanced at her, noting the resilience in her demeanor despite the obvious sadness in her eyes. "Thank you, Lady Baela," you said sincerely. "I appreciate your kindness."

Baela smiled softly. "Please, call me Baela.”

As you walked alongside Baela through the corridors of Dragonstone, her arm linked with yours, you couldn't help but marvel at her composure. Here was a woman who had just lost her betrothal to the man you were now set to marry, yet she showed you nothing but kindness and understanding.

"Baela," you said softly, testing the name on your lips. It felt strange to address her so familiarly, given the circumstances, but her gentle demeanor made it feel right somehow.

She glanced at you, her silver-gold hair catching the torchlight as she smiled warmly. "Yes?"

"I hope... I hope we can be allies," you said earnestly, “Despite the circumstances.”

Baela's expression softened, a mix of understanding and gentle sadness in her eyes. She squeezed your arm lightly, her touch reassuring.

"Of course we can," she said, her voice warm. "In fact, I hope we can be more than just allies. Friends, even. We're in this together, after all, as family."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you at her words. The tension that had been building in your chest since your arrival began to ease slightly.

"I'm glad," you admitted. "I was worried... well, given the situation..."

Baela shook her head, a rueful smile playing at her lips. "The circumstances are what they are. We can't change them, but we can choose how we respond to them. And I choose to see you as a friend, not a rival."

She stopped in front of two big wooden doors, thick and heavy at the sight. “Here we are,” she said, reaching for the handles before getting interrupted by one of the handmaids.

“Allow me, Lady Baela.” the girl mumbled, pushing open the doors before you. 

As the heavy wooden doors swung open, you were greeted by a spacious chamber bathed in warm candlelight. The room was adorned with rich tapestries depicting dragons in flight, their colors muted yet regal. A large four-poster bed dominated one wall, its dark wood intricately carved with scales and flames.

"These will be your chambers," Baela said, gesturing for you to enter. "I hope you'll find them comfortable."

You stepped inside, your eyes wide as you took in your new surroundings. A writing desk stood near a window overlooking the sea, and a cozy sitting area with plush chairs was arranged before a hearth. Everything spoke of luxury and careful craftsmanship.

"It's beautiful," you breathed, turning to Baela with genuine appreciation. 

Baela smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "The servants have already unpacked your belongings," she said, gesturing to a trunk at the foot of the bed. "But if you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask."

You nodded, your fingers trailing over the smooth surface of a nearby table. "Thank you, Baela."

She stepped closer, her expression serious. "I know this can't be easy for you," she said softly. "Coming to a new place, betrothed to a man you don't know, in the middle of a war. But if you ever need someone to converse with, simply ask for my presence and I shall come to you."

With a final nod, she departed, leaving you alone in your new chambers. As the door closed behind her, you let out a long, shaky breath, the events of the day finally catching up with you.

As you settled into your new chambers, the weight of the day's events began to sink in. The journey from the Vale, the formal introductions, the palpable tension in the great hall – it all swirled in your mind like a tempest. You sank onto the edge of the bed, your fingers tracing the intricate patterns carved into the wooden frame.

Your thoughts drifted to Prince Jacaerys. His handsome features were etched in your memory, but it was the sadness in his eyes that truly captured your attention. You had known, of course, about his previous betrothal to Lady Baela. It was common knowledge throughout the Seven Kingdoms. But seeing the pain etched on both their faces made the reality of the situation hit home.

A soft knock at the door startled you from your reverie. "Come in," you called, smoothing your skirts as you stood.

A young handmaid entered, carrying a tray laden with food and a steaming pot of tea. "Begging your pardon, m'lady," she said with a curtsy. "Queen Rhaenyra thought you might prefer to dine in your chambers this evening, to rest from your journey."

You nodded, grateful for the consideration. "Thank you," you said softly. "Please convey my gratitude to Her Grace."

As the handmaid set up the meal on a small table near the window, you found yourself drawn to the view outside. Dragonstone was unlike anything you had ever seen. The castle seemed to grow out of the very rock of the island, its towers reaching towards the sky like the necks of the dragons it was named for. In the fading light of day, you could see the churning sea beyond, its waves crashing against the rocky shore.

"Will there be anything else, my lady?" the handmaid asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

You turned, offering her a small smile. "No, thank you. That will be all."

As the door closed behind her, you were once again left alone with your thoughts. You picked at the food, your appetite diminished by the swirling emotions within you. The tea, at least, was a comfort, its warmth spreading through you as you sipped.

Your mind wandered to the task ahead of you. How were you supposed to forge a connection with a man whose heart clearly belonged to another? The political implications of this marriage weighed heavily on your shoulders. Your father's expectations, the need for this alliance to succeed – it all seemed impossibly daunting.

You’d heard all about the making of a babe, about lust and love, you’d read all about it. But the thought of bearing the babe of a man in love with another made your stomach turn, making your throat tighten. 

—————

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the sun's rays filtering through the windows of your chamber. You rose early, determined to start this new chapter of your life with purpose. As you dressed, choosing a gown in the deep red and white of your house, you steeled yourself for the day ahead.

A knock at your door announced the arrival of a servant, there to get you into your skirts and come to escort you to breakfast. As you made your way through the winding halls of Dragonstone, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nervousness in your stomach. 

The great hall was already bustling with activity when you arrived. Queen Rhaenyra sat at the high table, deep in conversation with her advisors. Your eyes scanned the room, finally landing on Prince Jacaerys, seated at a smaller table with his siblings.

Taking a deep breath, you approached. "Good morning, Your Grace," you said, dipping into a curtsy. "I hope I'm not intruding."

Jacaerys looked up, surprise flickering across his features before he schooled his expression into one of polite neutrality. "My lady," he said, rising to his feet. "Please, join us."

As you took the seat he offered, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from his younger brothers. Joffrey, the middle child, offered you a friendly smile, while the younger kids regarded you with wide-eyed wonder.

"Did you sleep well?" Jacaerys asked, his tone formal but not unkind.

You nodded, offering a small smile. "I did, thank you. The chambers are lovely."

An awkward silence fell over the table, broken only by the clatter of cutlery and the low hum of conversation from the surrounding tables. You busied yourself with your breakfast, stealing glances at Jacaerys when you thought he wasn't looking.

He seemed distracted, his gaze often drifting to the far side of the hall where Lady Baela’s seat was empty, next to her siste’s Rhaena. Each time, a flicker of pain would cross his face before he caught himself and returned his attention to his meal.

"Is it true you can ride a horse as well as any knight?" little Joffrey suddenly piped up, his eyes bright with curiosity as he stared up at you, his small hand reaching for your skirts before Jace pulled it away.

You blinked, surprised by the question. "I... yes, I suppose I can," you replied, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. "My father insisted I learn from a young age."

"That's amazing!" he exclaimed, leaning forward eagerly. "Can you teach me? Jace is always too busy."

Jacaerys shifted uncomfortably, but you saw an opportunity to bridge the awkward gap between you.

"I'd be happy to," you said, your smile widening. "If it's alright with your brother, of course."

For the first time that morning, Jacaerys met your gaze directly. Something akin to gratitude flickered in his eyes. "That would be... kind of you," he said softly.

Silence filled the air once again, awkward glances shared between you and Jacaerys as he quietly picked at his plate. 

As the uncomfortable silence stretched, the door to the great hall creaked open, drawing everyone's attention. Lady Baela entered, her graceful presence immediately commanding the room. 

Jacaerys's eyes lit up momentarily as he watched her approach, but the flicker of hope was quickly replaced by the familiar sadness. Baela's eyes scanned the room, locking onto his for a heartbeat before shifting to you. A small, serene smile graced her lips as she made her way to your table.

"Good morrow," she greeted, her voice as warm as the morning sun streaming through the windows. 

Baela took a seat beside you, her presence a soothing balm to the tension in the air. She nodded to Jacaerys, lingering their locked gaze in silence, before turning her attention to you.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, her tone genuinely concerned.

"I did, thank you," you replied, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. "The chambers are lovely."

Baela's smile widened. "I'm glad to hear that. Have you had time to explore the place?"

You straightened your back, glancing at your betrothed and then back to her. You shook your head. "No, I haven't had the chance yet," you admitted, trying to keep your voice light.

Baela's eyes sparkled with genuine enthusiasm. "Then it's settled. I'll give you a tour after breakfast. There are some wonderful places I think you'll enjoy."

Jacaerys felt a surge of confusion as he watched Baela's calm and cheerful demeanor. Her willingness to extend kindness and camaraderie to you, the woman set to marry the man she once loved, was baffling. He had expected resentment, anger, or at least some form of cold distance. Instead, Baela seemed genuinely at ease, her smile unwavering.

His thoughts churned as he tried to make sense of her behavior. Was she truly alright with the broken betrothal, or was this a mask she wore to hide her pain? Jacaerys couldn't tell. He stole a glance at you, noting the slight relaxation in your posture as you engaged with Baela. The two of you seemed to connect in a way he hadn't anticipated. 

Baela's strength had always been a source of comfort, but now it felt like a reminder of his own perceived weakness. His own frustration clouding his judgment as hers only brought her closer to you.

Breakfast continued, the conversations light and courteous. You and Baela exchanged pleasantries about Dragonstone's architecture, its history, and its dragons. Joffrey's enthusiasm brightened the table as he peppered you with questions about the Vale and your life there. Jacaerys found himself mostly silent, observing the dynamic between you and Baela as he ate small bites of his food, dreading his leave. 

When the meal concluded, Baela rose from her seat, her eyes meeting Jace’s. "I hope you'll join us on the tour, Jace," she said softly, her voice holding a note of encouragement.

Jacaerys hesitated, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He glanced at you, noting the hopeful glimmer in your eyes, then back at Baela, who was giving him a look, telling him to go. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat. 

“If I am not busy, yes.”

Again, with linked arms, Baela urged her twin to join you both as she talked your ear off about the halls. Rhaena quickly following suit and giving you a polite smile. 

As Baela led you away for the tour, Jacaerys remained behind, his expression conflicted. He watched as you disappeared around a corner, arm-in-arm with Baela and Rhaena. A moment passed before he made his decision, quietly following at a distance.

Throughout the tour, Jacaerys kept to the shadows, observing the easy rapport developing between you and Baela. His brow furrowed as he watched Baela's animated gestures, her warm smiles, and your growing comfort in her presence. The lack of tension or resentment between you both stirred a complicated mix of emotions within him. He watched you laugh, hand holding onto Rhaena as she pointed at the dragon pit.

As the day wore on and you retired to your chambers, Jacaerys found himself restless, pacing the halls of Dragonstone. The sun had long since set when he finally sought out Baela, his emotions simmering beneath the surface.

You were about to drift off to sleep when muffled voices from the corridor caught your attention. Curiosity piqued, you crept to the door, quietly prying it open, the voices getting clearer.

"How can you be so... so accepting about all of this?" Jacaerys' voice, usually so controlled, trembled with barely contained frustration.

"What would you have me do, Jace?" Baela's response was measured, but there was an edge to her tone. "Treat her unkindly? Refuse to acknowledge her presence?"

"No, of course not, but..." Jacaerys faltered. "You act as if nothing has changed. As if our betrothal wasn't just shattered for the sake of politics less than two days ago."

There was a pause, and when Baela spoke again, her voice was softer. "Everything has changed, Jace. But that doesn't mean we must let bitterness consume us. She is not to blame for this situation."

"I know that," Jacaerys snapped, then sighed heavily, you could hear his frustration. "I know. But seeing you with her, so friendly, so at ease... it's like you don't even care that we're no longer..."

"Don't," Baela's voice was sharp now. "Don't you dare suggest that I don't care. We both knew our duty might require sacrifices. I'm choosing to face this with grace, for all our sakes."

"And I'm just supposed to accept that? To watch you befriend the woman I'm being forced to marry, while my heart..." Jacaerys's voice broke off.

"Your heart will heal, Jace," Baela said gently. "As will mine. But we must give it time, and we must not punish Lady Y/n for circumstances beyond her control."

The silence that followed was heavy. You held your breath, straining to hear more.

"I don't know if I can do that, Baela," Jacaerys finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You can," Baela assured him. "And who knows? Perhaps in time, you might find that Lady Y/n..."

"Don't," Jacaerys cut her off. "Please, just... don't. I could never."

You heard footsteps retreating, growing fainter until they disappeared entirely. Slowly, you backed away from the door, your mind reeling from what you'd overheard.

As you stood there, hidden in the shadows of the corridor, your heart sank with each word that passed between Jacaerys and Baela. Guilt gnawed at you, a bitter realization settling in your chest. You hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but now you couldn’t ignore the raw emotions laid bare before you.

Jacaerys’s voice, tinged with frustration and hurt, echoed in your mind. His words stung deeply, cutting through the uncertainty that had clouded your thoughts since arriving at Dragonstone.

Any chance of him growing comfortable, even forming an attachment to you, vanished before your eyes at his words. 

Locking the door, you sat on your bed, knees to your chest as you felt your breathing break its steady pace. The rawness of Jacaerys's emotions and his adamant refusal to even consider the possibility of developing feelings for you left a hollow ache in your chest.

Rising from your bed, you moved to the window, gazing out at the rocky shores of Dragonstone. The sea churned restlessly, mirroring the turmoil in your heart. You had known this marriage was born of political necessity, but hearing Jacaerys's words had driven home the reality of your situation in a way nothing else could have.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. "Come in," you called, turning from the window.

Baela entered, her silver-gold hair catching the soft candle light. Her lips faltered as she took in your drawn expression. "I did not know you were awake."

For a moment, you considered confessing what you'd overheard, but something held you back. Instead, you forced a small smile. "Just a restless night," you said. "I'm still adjusting to the sound of the waves, I suppose."

Baela's eyes searched your face, and you got the sense she didn't quite believe you. But she didn't press the issue. “I… I cannot find sleep either, I figured I’d come to see how you’re holding up with your stay.”

As you looked closer at Baela in the dim candlelight, you noticed the telltale signs of recent tears. Her eyes were slightly puffy and rimmed with red, and there was a lingering sadness in her expression that she couldn't quite hide. Her usually perfect composure seemed fragile, as if it might crack at any moment. 

Baela's shoulders were slumped ever so slightly, betraying a weariness that went beyond mere physical exhaustion. Her fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of her nightgown, a nervous gesture that spoke volumes about her emotional state. Despite her attempt at a smile, there was a vulnerability in her gaze that tugged at your heart.

In that moment, you realized that Baela wasn't just here to check on you – she was seeking comfort and companionship herself. The strong, graceful woman who had been your guide and support since your arrival now looked like she desperately needed a friend.

You took two steps towards her, offering your hand, which she hesitantly took, and guiding her to sit on the edge of your bed. 

For a while, neither of you spoke. You sensed Baela struggling to maintain her composure, her facade of strength cracking ever so slightly. Her shoulders trembled imperceptibly, a telltale sign of the storm raging within.

Without a word, you moved closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Baela stiffened at first, surprised by your gesture, but then she leaned into your touch, a silent admission of her vulnerability.

“I’m sorry,” you spoke, “I do not wish for your burden.”

"It's not your burden to bear," Baela whispered hoarsely, her voice thick with emotion. "None of this is your fault. Jace is just… still adjusting to the idea."

Baela remained silent for a long moment, her gaze distant. Her fingers traced the intricate embroidery on her sleeve, a nervous habit betraying her inner turmoil.

"I've known Jace my whole life," Baela began softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "We grew up together, shared dreams of the future, of ruling Dragonstone side by side. Our betrothal... it felt like destiny."

You tightened your embrace, offering silent support as Baela's voice wavered and your guilt only grew in your chest. She leaned into you, seeking solace in your presence.

"I care for him, Y/n," Baela admitted, her voice trembling with unspoken emotion. "And seeing him in pain... knowing that our future together is no longer possible... I can't bear it."

Tears welled up in Baela's eyes once more, and this time she didn't hold them back. They flowed freely, silent rivulets down her cheeks, marking the depth of her sorrow.

"I would rather see him find happiness with you," Baela confessed in a choked whisper, her words heavy with resignation. "Than watch him cling to a love that can never be. He deserves that much, after everything. He deserves a love that is possible, that is as just and fair as it is real."

Her admission hung in the air between you, a bittersweet revelation tinged with heartache. You squeezed her hand gently, your own heart heavy with empathy for her plight. You watched as she curled up to the sheets of your bed, breathing steadying as she let sleep take over her. 

You tried to push away the guilt that threatened to overwhelm you. After all, you hadn’t asked for this betrothal any more than Jacaerys or Baela had asked for their separation. Yet, here you were, caught in the middle of their lingering emotions and unspoken regrets.

—————

The following weeks unfolded in a haze of polite interactions and strained attempts at forging connections. You accompanied Jacaerys to meetings and gatherings, each moment underscored by the awkward tension that hung between you. His gaze, when it met yours, was distant and guarded, a far cry from the warmth you had hoped to find.

Meanwhile, Baela remained a steady presence in your life. She showed you the hidden corners of Dragonstone, regaled you with stories of its history, and offered quiet words of encouragement when doubt threatened to consume you. Her kindness was a lifeline amidst the uncertainty that gripped your heart.

Still, you couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider in your own betrothal. Every smile from Jacaerys felt forced, every conversation a careful dance around the unspoken truths that loomed between you. You wondered if he saw you as a reminder of what could have been, or if he simply saw you at all.

Jace and Baela kept their distance, exchanging lingering stares, finding comfort in each other but maintaining their bond as a friendship, an impossible love threatened by duty.

You felt like a young girl with a crush on a soldier, as Rhaena and Baela attempted to bring Jacaerys closer to you. Yet, it ate at you that Baela tried to conceal her own feelings to prioritize yours and Jace's.

You found solace in unexpected places. Young Joffrey had taken to following you around the castle, bombarding you with questions about the Vale and begging for horse-riding lessons. His innocent enthusiasm was a balm to your troubled heart, and you found yourself looking forward to the time you spent with him.

One crisp morning, as you were brushing down your horse in the stables, Joffrey came bounding in, his face flushed with excitement.

"Please!" he called out, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste as he ran little steps towards you. He joined his hands in a plea. "Can we go riding today? Please?"

You couldn't help but smile at his eagerness. 

Jace watched from the courtyard. His expression was unreadable, but for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his eyes – curiosity, perhaps, or a hint of softness.

The moment passed quickly as he turned away, leaving you to wonder if you had imagined it. Pushing the thought aside, you focused on guiding Joffrey through his riding lesson. With a hand on his lower back, holding his upwards, and another holding onto the leather leash, you guided the excited child through the gardens.

As you guided Joffrey's pony through the gardens, the younger prince's laughter filled the air. 

"Look!" Joffrey exclaimed, pointing excitedly at a butterfly fluttering past. "Can we chase it?"

You chuckled, gently reining in his excitement. "Remember, my prince, we must always be gentle with creatures smaller than us. Let's watch it instead, shall we?"

As you stood there, Joffrey perched atop his pony and you by his side, observing the delicate dance of the butterfly, you felt a presence behind you. Turning slightly, you saw Jacaerys approaching, his steps hesitant but purposeful.

"Having fun, Joff?" he asked, ruffling his younger brother's hair affectionately.

Joffrey beamed at his older brother, reaching to hold his hand, almost tumbling off of the animal’s loin. "She is teaching me to ride, Jace! She says I'll be as good as you one day!"

A small smile tugged at Jacaerys's lips. "Is that so?" He turned his gaze to you, something unreadable in his eyes. "You're good with him."

You felt a warmth creep into your cheeks at his words. "He makes it easy," you replied softly. "He's a quick learner."

Joffrey huffed as he tugged on the leather leash in your hands, “When will I be allowed to ride on my own?”

Jace let out a soft laugh, the sound unexpected and somehow comforting. "In time, Joff. You need to master the basics first."

The younger boy pouted but didn't argue, his attention quickly drawn back to the butterfly that had settled on a nearby flower.

You looked at Jacaerys, noticing the shadows under his eyes, the lines of stress etched into his handsome features. The brief moments of kindness he had shown you lately had been few and far between, but they gave you a glimmer of hope.

"Would you like to join us?" you asked tentatively, unsure of how he would respond.

Jacaerys hesitated, glancing between you and Joffrey. Finally, he nodded, a small, reluctant smile on his lips. "I could use a break from all the meetings."

As the three of you walked through the gardens, the tension between you and Jacaerys seemed to ease, replaced by a tentative camaraderie. Joffrey chattered on about the lessons you had been giving him, his enthusiasm infectious.

You caught Jacaerys stealing glances at you, his expression softer than you had ever seen it. It was as if the presence of his younger brother had created a bridge between you, allowing him to lower his guard just a little.

Sadly, he’d stayed quiet the whole time, only nodding along and responding to his brother’s enthusiasm. 

For a moment, the three of you stood there in comfortable silence, watching as Joffrey tentatively guided his pony a few steps forward. You fixed your skirts, arms dropping to your side as the small prince struggled to get down from the pony, refusing to get any help. Then, to your surprise, Jacaerys spoke again.

"I... I was wondering if you might like to join me for a ride later," he said, his voice low enough that Joffrey couldn't hear. "There's a cove on the far side of the island that's quite beautiful at night."

Your heart skipped a beat at his invitation. "I'd like that," you replied, offering him a small smile.

As Jacaerys nodded and turned to leave, you caught sight of Baela watching from a nearby balcony. Her expression turned into a supportive smile when she noticed your gaze. The guilt that had become your constant companion surged once more.

Later that evening, as you prepared for your ride with Jacaerys, Baela appeared at your chamber door.

"Here," she said, holding out a cloak with a smile. "The winds can be fierce near the cove. You'll need this."

As you accepted the cloak, your fingers brushed hers. "Baela," you began, your voice thick with emotion. "I–"

She shook her head, cutting you off. "Don't," she said softly. “Jace is trying, give him a chance."

“Baela,” you began again, your voice softer this time, “I just don’t want to hurt you more than I already have. I’m trying to understand where we all fit into this... tangled mess.”

She shook her head, “I feel no pain if you and Jace are well.”

"But I don't want you to feel like you're losing something," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Baela's expression softened, a small, sad smile gracing her lips. "Jace and I... we were a dream of what could have been. But dreams change. Life moves on, and so must we. I can't hold onto something that was never meant to be."

You nodded, feeling a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. "Thank you," you whispered, unable to find the words to express the depth of your appreciation.

Baela squeezed your hand one last time before letting go. "Go," she urged. "Don't keep him waiting."

With a heavy heart, you draped the cloak around your shoulders and made your way to the stables where Jacaerys was waiting. The night air was cool and crisp, just like Baela had said, the stars twinkling like distant beacons of hope in the inky sky. 

Jacaerys stood by his horse, his figure silhouetted against the faint light of the torches. His expression was thoughtful, almost pensive, as he glanced up at the sky. When he noticed your approach, his eyes softened slightly, almost as if he had been trying to get his mind ready.

The moonlight cast a silver sheen on his dark hair, lending him an almost ethereal quality. 

“I forgot to tell you to get a cloak,” he said, quickly noticing the cloth that covered your body, “you must have read my mind."

"Baela thought of it," you replied, mounting your horse. Jacaerys tried to hide the frown that appeared on his face for a second. The saddle creaked beneath you, and you patted the horse's neck, feeling its warmth through the leather gloves.

Why would Baela want to push him into another woman’s arms? The question echoed in his mind, gnawing at his thoughts like a persistent itch. 

Jacaerys’s thoughts churned beneath his calm exterior. Why was Baela so insistent on pushing him toward you? He glanced sideways at you, taking in the soft glow of the moonlight on your face, the way you seemed lost in your own thoughts. There was a delicate vulnerability about you, a quiet strength that he couldn’t quite grasp.

You rode in silence for a while, the rhythmic clopping of hooves and the distant roar of the sea the only sounds breaking the night. 

His gaze flickered over to you again. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he noticed your serene demeanor, your focus entirely on the path ahead. He couldn’t deny that there was something about you that stirred a part of him he thought was long dormant – a hope for something genuine amidst the political maneuvering and familial obligations.

Breaking the silence, Jacaerys spoke, his voice carrying a note of curiosity he couldn’t completely mask. “You seem at ease. Is the ride helping you clear your mind?”

You glanced over at him, the soft glow from your lantern casting a gentle light on your face. “It is,” you said, offering a small, genuine smile. “I don’t have siblings, like you do. I didn’t have much to be entertained by, growing up. I found solace in rides like this”

Jacaerys nodded, his curiosity piqued. "What else did you do to pass the time?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You chuckled, a hint of mischief in your eyes. "I used to sneak out to watch the soldiers train in the courtyard."

Jacaerys raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Is that so?"

You nodded, warming to the subject. "Oh yes. When I was too bored to read I would hide behind the barrels near the training yard and watch the men practice their swordplay."

"Did you ever try it yourself?" Jacaerys asked, genuine interest in his voice.

You laughed softly. "I did, actually. I'd sneak a wooden practice sword from the armory and try to mimic their movements in secret. I must have looked ridiculous, flailing about in my chambers."

Jacaerys let out a low chuckle, the sound warming you more than the cloak around your shoulders. "I can picture it," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Did you ever get caught?"

"Once," you admitted, a blush creeping into your cheeks. "My father walked in just as I was attempting a particularly dramatic lunge. I nearly toppled into my dressing table."

Jacaerys laughed outright at that, the sound echoing in the night air. It was the first time you'd heard him laugh so freely, and the sound made your heart skip a beat.

"What did your father say?" he asked, still smiling.

You sighed dramatically, "He was scandalized, of course. Grounded me from sneaking past the courtyard for life.”

As your horses ambled along the moonlit path, Jacaerys's laughter subsided into a warm smile. You loved the sound, you realized, not having heard it often because of you, moreso because of his family.

 "Well, if you're still interested in watching swordplay, you're welcome to observe our training sessions here on Dragonstone. No need for sneaking or hiding behind barrels."

You felt a flutter of excitement at his offer. "Really? You wouldn't mind?"

Jacaerys shook his head, his expression softening. "Not at all. In fact, I think the men here might appreciate having an audience. It tends to make them show off a bit more."

You chuckled, feeling more at ease than you had in weeks. "I'd like that very much. Thank you, Jacaerys."

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that hadn't been there before. 

As the path curved towards the cove, the moonlight bathed the landscape in a silvery glow. The sea's rhythmic waves against the rocky shore provided a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. Jacaerys's earlier curiosity about Baela's motives still lingered in his mind, but for now, he chose to focus on the present moment. There would be time to unravel those thoughts later.

“Um…” you started, unsure whether your question was intrusive or not, Jace’s head turned to look at you again. 

“Yes?”

“I was wondering… about the dragons,” 

Jacaerys's eyes lit up with interest at the mention of dragons. "What would you like to know?" he asked.

“I’ve never seen one up-close.” you felt rather embarrassed as your cheeks flushed, quickly turning your head to look ahead of you as Jacaerys bit back a smile. “Would you like to?”

Your heart quickened at his question, and you met his gaze, your excitement barely contained. "I would love to," you replied, unable to hide the enthusiasm in your voice.

Jacaerys smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Then it's settled. We'll visit the dragon pit tomorrow. I’ll introduce you to Vermax."

The path towards the cove became narrower, the sea breeze carrying a salty tang that invigorated your senses. Jacaerys's expression held a mixture of amusement and anticipation, the weight of the earlier conversation lifting slightly.

As the cove came into view, bathed in the soft glow of the moon, Jacaerys turned to you, his eyes reflecting the silvery light. "Vermax hatched when I was just a baby," he began, his voice taking on a more personal tone. “We grew together. I am sure he will be kind to you.”

The connection he described stirred something within you. You felt a growing sense of anticipation for the meeting with Vermax, your excitement mingling with a hint of nervousness at the thought of standing near a dragon.

As you reached the edge of the cove, the waves crashed gently against the shore, their rhythmic sound creating a soothing backdrop. You dismounted your horses, your boots sinking slightly into the soft sand. The moonlight cast a silvery sheen over everything, making the scene almost magical.

Even after having spent long in Dragonstone, the cold breeze still hadn’t made peace with you, you held the cloak tighter to your body in hopes of warmth. The chill seemed to seep through the layers, but the beauty of the cove and the company beside you provided a warmth of their own.

Jacaerys led you to a rocky outcrop, a perfect vantage point from which to watch the waves crash and froth against the shoreline. His hand was holding the sleeve of your cloak as he walked you, not ready to hold your hand just yet, Baela still somehow present in his thoughts. 

Jace’s gaze was fixed on the horizon, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. He seemed lost in thought, the earlier conversation about Vermax fading into the backdrop as he wrestled with his own internal conflicts. You could sense the weight of Baela's memory lingering in his mind, an echo of feelings that he was trying to reconcile with the present.

He turned to you, his expression softening. “It’s a beautiful spot, isn’t it? I’ve always found it calming here, away from everything else.”

You hummed, hands going back to pressing the cloak against your shivering body, regretting not having worn more skirts for the night. “It’s beautiful.”

A small smile touched Jacaerys’s lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He seemed to be searching for the right words, his usual guarded demeanor giving way to a more introspective side.

“Are you cold?”

“A little, yes. I should’ve worn a thicker dress.”

Jacaerys’s eyes flickered with concern as he took in your shivering form, the chill of the night evidently seeping through your cloak. The warmth of his earlier smile faded into a more serious expression.

“Come with me.” he said, his voice soft with empathy. 

He guided you away from the edge of the cove, leading you towards a more sheltered spot further inland. The sea breeze, though still present, seemed to lose its bite as you moved away from the open shore.

As you walked, Jacaerys began to explain. “The rocks here are a bit more protected from the wind, and they get the heat from the sun during the day, it retains some warmth even at night.”

You followed him, hopeful by the promise of warmth. The path became less rugged and more stable, leading to a small, secluded nook nestled between two large boulders. 

Jacaerys gestured towards the alcove with a reassuring nod. “This spot should be much warmer. It’s better than standing out in the open.”

You stepped into the alcove, trailing behind him, feeling a noticeable difference in temperature. The wind’s bite was indeed diminished, and the moss underfoot felt soothing against your tired feet. The warmth was a welcome relief, and you sighed contentedly as you settled into the corner of the nook.

Jacaerys took a seat beside you, maintaining a respectful distance but close enough to share the modest warmth of the alcove. His gaze softened as he looked at you, his earlier concerns about the chill replaced by a more focused attentiveness.

"Do you miss your home?" Jacaerys asked, breaking the silence, his voice gentle.

You considered his question, your gaze fixed on the horizon. "Sometimes," you admitted. "But I've got good company here."

Jacaerys studied you for a moment, his gaze contemplative. The alcove, with its comforting warmth and shielded position, seemed to offer a haven for both of you – a temporary retreat from the complexities of the world outside.

A faint smile tugged at Jacaerys’s lips as he broke the silence. “Joffrey’s obsessed with you, you know?”

You looked at him, curiosity piqued with a laugh. “Is he?”

Jacaerys nodded, his fingers absently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “He always talks about you.”

“He’s rather taken with you, I would think.”

You laughed, the sound bright and genuine in the quiet of the alcove. “He’s a very kind child.”

Jacaerys nodded, his expression warm and approving. “He’s always full of stories about you – how kind you are, how brave you seem. It’s quite endearing, really.”

A smile tugged at your lips, “That’s sweet of him.”

There was a comfortable silence between you, the warmth of the alcove cocooning you both in its gentle embrace. The night outside seemed distant, its chill muted by the sanctuary you’d found together.

Jacaerys broke the silence once more, bringing his knees to his chest and staring ahead at the sea. “Baela’s been kind to you,” you couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement so you simply nodded.

“Very, she’s been really welcoming to me,” you replied, trying to match the sincerity of his tone. “I appreciate her kindness more than I can express.”

Jacaerys sighed softly, the sound barely audible above the distant crash of waves.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, the warmth of the alcove creating a peaceful setting around you. 

Jacaerys’s mention of Baela lingered between you like a delicate echo, and you could see the concern in his eyes. His gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon, but it was clear he was wrestling with his own emotions.

“You’ve been a good friend to her since you arrived,” Jacaerys said again, his voice soft but edged with a tinge of regret. “I appreciate that more than you know.”

The sincerity of his words struck a chord, and though you had tried to offer comfort, the mention of Baela’s hurt still gnawed at you. You understood that Jacaerys’s feelings were complex, his history with Baela casting a long shadow over the present.

You searched for something comforting to say, but the silence that followed was soothing in its own way. 

Jacaerys shifted slightly, his eyes softening as he glanced at you. “Sometimes it’s hard to balance past connections with the present. I suppose I’ve been struggling with that lately. For that, I apologize.”

“It’s never easy to reconcile what was with what is. I imagine it must be even harder when you care about the people involved.”

He nodded, a wistful smile touching his lips. “You are to be my wife.”

Jace’s admission hung in the air like a fragile, unspoken promise. His gaze held yours, his eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and resolve that seemed to shimmer in the soft moonlight. The mention of your forthcoming union brought a new layer of gravity to the conversation, the implications settling heavily between you.

“I know,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Despite the complexities of… my past betrothal, my commitment to you is sincere. I promise to give you a happy marriage. I want to give you a future where you feel valued, cherished, and at peace. As any wife should.”

His words carried a gravity that made your heart flutter. The sincerity in his eyes, combined with the warmth of the alcove, created a moment of shared hope and promise.

Neither of you spoke until the breeze caught up to the warmer spot, indicating the deep hours of the night. “We shall get back. I wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.” he mumbled.

You nodded, the thought of returning to the comfort of the castle appealing after the night’s lingering cold. The promise of a future together still resonated within you, a beacon of warmth amidst the crisp night air.

Jacaerys rose smoothly, offering you a hand as you stood. The gesture was simple but meaningful, a small act of support that spoke volumes to you. His hand was warm against yours, a comforting presence as you prepared to return to the castle. 

Together, you made your way out of the alcove, the cool night air greeting you with a gentle caress as you retraced your steps back to the horses.

The path to the castle was bathed in the soft light of dawn, the horizon beginning to glow with the first hints of morning. He led the way, his presence a reassuring constant beside you as the path darkened, the night making it harder to see. 

Jace offered to guard both of your horses back, while you prepared for your chambers.

As you stepped inside, a lively chatter greeted you, echoing through the stone corridors. Baela and Rhaena, vibrant and full of energy, were waiting for you near the entrance hall. Their faces lit up with excitement, their eyes sparkling with curiosity as they spotted you approaching.

“There you are!” Baela exclaimed, her voice bright and cheerful. She hurried towards you, followed closely by Rhaena, who wore an equally eager expression.

“You’ve been out almost all night,” Rhaena added, her tone filled with a mix of teasing and genuine interest. 

“We took a stroll to the cove,” you said. “It was a peaceful night. We talked, and enjoyed the quiet. It was... pleasant.”

Baela and Rhaena listened intently, their expressions shifting from anticipation to satisfaction. Baela’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she nudged you gently. “I hope Jacaerys was a good companion. We wouldn’t want you to think poorly of Dragonstone just because of a chilly night.”

You chuckled, feeling a blush of warmth spread across your cheeks at the attention. “He was,”

As you walked towards your chamber’s doors, Baela’s excitement seemed almost infectious. Yet, despite the outward cheer, you couldn’t shake a lingering uncertainty. Baela’s reactions were hard to read. 

She turned to you with a smile that seemed almost too perfect. “I’m glad you had a good night, it is important for you two to spend time together.”

Her words were kind, but the subtext felt layered. You couldn’t tell if she was giving her blessing wholeheartedly or if she was still processing her own feelings about Jacaerys. The complexity of their shared past, intertwined with the new future you were all stepping into, made the situation delicate.

As you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it, letting out a long breath. The night had been full of unexpected moments and conflicting emotions. Jacaerys's promise of a happy marriage still echoed in your mind, filling you with hope. Yet, the sadness you'd glimpsed in Baela's eyes reminded you of the complicated web of relationships you'd stepped into.

You changed into your nightgown and slipped into bed, your mind whirling with thoughts of moonlit coves, dragon pits, and the promise of a future yet to unfold.

—————

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the sun's rays streaming through your window and gently rousing you from sleep. As you blinked awake, the events of the previous night came flooding back – the moonlit ride, the intimate conversation with Jacaerys in the alcove, and the promise of meeting Vermax today.

A mix of excitement and nervousness fluttered in your stomach as you rose and began to prepare for the day. You chose a sturdy riding dress, practical yet flattering, and braided your hair to keep it out of your face. As you fastened a cloak around your shoulders, a soft knock sounded at your door.

"Come in," you called, expecting to see one of the handmaids.

Instead, it was Jacaerys who entered, looking slightly hesitant but with a warm smile on his face. His day clothes were already on, a red cape falling from his shoulders.

 "Good morrow," he said softly. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not at all," you replied, your heart skipping a beat at his unexpected presence, fingers struggling to tie the cloak’s strings, too focused on him. "I was just getting ready for the day."

Jacaerys nodded, his eyes taking in your attire. “Need help?" he asked. 

You nodded, grateful for the assistance. Jacaerys stepped closer, his fingers deftly working on the cloak's fastenings. The proximity sent a shiver down your spine, and you caught a hint of his scent – a mixture of leather and something uniquely him.

"There," he said softly, stepping back once the cloak was secured. His eyes met yours, a hint of warmth in their depths. 

"I thought perhaps we could break our fast together before we go, if you're amenable?"

His thoughtfulness touched you, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. "I'd like that very much," you said with a smile.

As you walked together to the great hall, you couldn't help but notice the change in Jacaerys's demeanor. He seemed more relaxed in your presence, the tension that had marked your earlier interactions noticeably diminished. 

The great hall was relatively quiet, with only a few early risers scattered about. Jacaerys led you to a small table near one of the windows, where a spread of fresh bread, fruits, and warm porridge awaited.

"I hope this is to your liking," he said, pulling out a chair for you. "I wasn't sure of your preferences, so I asked for a variety. I hope it isn’t too much."

You sat down, touched by his consideration. "It looks wonderful, thank you."

As you began to eat, a comfortable silence settled between you. Jacaerys seemed lost in thought, his gaze occasionally drifting to the window and the view of the dragon pit in the distance.

"Are you nervous about meeting Vermax?" he asked suddenly, his eyes focusing back on you.

You considered the question, taking a sip of warm tea before answering. "A little," you admitted. "I've never been this close to a dragon before. But I'm more excited than nervous, I think."

Jacaerys smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Vermax can sense emotions, he'll know if you're afraid, but if you remain calm he will be as well."

You nodded, absorbing his words. "I'll do my best to stay calm," you promised. "And I truly am looking forward to meeting him."

Something softened in Jacaerys's expression at your words. He reached across the table, his hand coming to rest lightly on yours. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you found yourself lost in his gaze for a moment. The connection between you felt stronger, a fragile bridge being built with each shared moment.

As you finished your meal, Jacaerys stood, offering you his hand. "Shall we?" he asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.

You took his hand, feeling the strength and warmth of his grip. "Lead the way," you said with a smile.

As you made your way through the castle corridors, Jacaerys walking beside you, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from passing servants and courtiers. It was clear that your outing the previous night had not gone unnoticed, and you felt a flutter of self-consciousness.

Jacaerys seemed to sense your discomfort. "Pay them no mind," he said quietly, his hand briefly touching the small of your back in a gesture of support. "They'll have something new to gossip about by midday."

His touch, though fleeting, sent a warmth through you that lingered even as you stepped out into the crisp morning air. The dragon pit loomed before you, an imposing structure that seemed to dwarf everything around it.

As you approached, you could hear the low rumbles and occasional screeches of the dragons within. Your steps faltered slightly, and Jacaerys paused, turning to face you.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, forcing a smile. "Just a bit nervous," you admitted.

Jacaerys's expression softened. "It's natural to be nervous," he said. "But Vermax is kind, do not fret."

As you entered the dragon pit, the air grew warmer, filled with the scent of smoke and something distinctly reptilian. Jacaerys led you towards a large pen, where a magnificent creature lay curled up, its scales shimmering in the dim light.

"Vermax," Jacaerys called softly, his voice filled with affection.

The dragon stirred, raising its massive head. Its eyes, intelligent and piercing, fixed upon you, and you felt a moment of panic. But then Jacaerys's hand found yours, squeezing gently in reassurance.

"It's alright," he murmured. "Just breathe. Let him get used to your scent."

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain still as Vermax's nostrils flared, taking in your scent. After what felt like an eternity, the dragon let out a low rumble that sounded almost... approving?

Jacaerys smiled, his face lighting up with pride. "He likes you," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "Would you like to touch him?"

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Is that... safe?"

Jacaerys nodded in a chuckle, gently guiding your hand forward. "Just here, along his neck. His scales are warm."

He mumbled words – commands – in High Valyrian, a language that you did not quite understand. As Jacaerys's gentle voice wove through the ancient words, you felt a strange calm wash over you. His hand steadied yours, guiding it towards Vermax's neck. The dragon’s scales were warm, surprisingly smooth, and a thrill of awe coursed through you at the touch.

Vermax's gaze remained fixed on you, but there was no malice in it, only curiosity. Your hand moved slowly, feeling the powerful muscles beneath the creature's skin. The dragon emitted a low, contented rumble, and Jace's smile grew wider.

With trembling fingers, you reached out, gasping softly as your hand made contact with Vermax's humid and warm scales. They were indeed warm, and smoother than you had expected. The dragon rumbled again, the sound reverberating through your entire body.

“There we go,” Jacaerys murmured, watching as Vermax responded to your gentle touch with a low, rumbling purr. It was like nothing you’d ever heard before – a deep resonance that seemed to echo within your very bones. The dragon's presence was overwhelming, a creature of immense power and grace. Yet here, in this moment, it seemed almost… gentle.

Jacaerys stood close beside you, his hand still lightly covering yours, offering reassurance through the contact. The dragon pit was quiet, save for the occasional shifting of massive limbs and the rustling of scales as Vermax settled more comfortably under your touch. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and warm metal, an atmosphere charged with both mystery and excitement. 

"He's magnificent," you breathed, unable to tear your eyes away from the dragon's gleaming eyes, which seemed to hold a world of secrets within them.

Jacaerys watched you, his eyes soft with an emotion you couldn't quite name. "He trusts you," he said quietly. 

He marveled at how quickly Vermax had accepted you, a bond forming almost instantly. In his experience, dragons were fiercely independent creatures, wary of strangers and cautious around those they did not know. The ease with which Vermax had welcomed you was rare, a testament to something intangible that Jacaerys could sense but not quite articulate.

Jacaerys had seen many attempts to win a dragon's favor and fail; it was a delicate dance of trust and mutual respect, often requiring patience and time. Yet here you were, a newcomer to Dragonstone, and Vermax was already responding to you with a gentleness that belied his formidable nature.

Vermax cooed, his big eyes closing as you ran your hand over his scales, Jace’s cautiously hovering over. 

"He really does like you," Jacaerys said, a note of wonder in his voice. "I've never seen him take to someone so quickly."

You looked up at Jacaerys, a smile spreading across your face. "Is that unusual?"

He nodded, his eyes moving between you and Vermax. "Dragons are... particular about who they allow near them. It took some of our most experienced dragon keepers months to gain Vermax's trust to this degree."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words, you turned back to Vermax, continuing to stroke his green scales gently. "Thank you for trusting me," you whispered to the dragon.

Vermax rumbled again, the sound almost like a purr. Jacaerys chuckled softly. 

"Does he understand?” you asked.

"To some extent, yes. He senses your sincerity."

You nodded, absorbing this. The dragon's massive head lowered slightly, its eyes fluttering shut as if enjoying the sensation of your touch. Vermax's breaths came in slow, rhythmic pulses, and you found yourself mirroring them, a sense of calm washing over you. 

“He’s like a pup,” you said, a smile creeping to your face. 

Jacaerys’s laughter was soft, a warm, gentle sound that seemed to blend seamlessly with the low rumbling of Vermax. “That’s a charming way to put it.”

You hummed a laugh, eyes focusing on the beast that grumbled beneath your hand. “Look,” Jace said, pressing his palm against yours to apply more pressure on the dragon’s neck. He moved both of your hands up to the back of the ear, you on your tiptoes as Vermax moved his head down, welcoming the touch. 

Jacaerys applied pressure once again, and the dragon tilted its head, eyes half-closed in a state of pure contentment. 

Jace smiled at the sight, his eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and affection. “He truly enjoys this,” he said, his voice a gentle murmur.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. You turned to see Baela entering the dragon pit, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you and Jacaerys.

She stood near the entrance, her gaze moving from you to Jacaerys and then to Vermax. There was a moment of awkward silence as her eyes took in the intimate scene – you, with your hand resting on the dragon’s neck, Jacaerys close beside you.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, surprised to have found somebody in the dragon pit, usually only the keepers being there. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Jacaerys’s posture stiffened, his expression slipping into a mask of polite neutrality. He took a step back, his hand reluctantly withdrawing from yours. The warmth of his touch, which had felt so reassuring moments before, was now a memory of something he seemed to regret. 

“You’re not interrupting,” he said, his voice measured, betraying none of the emotions that seemed to ripple just beneath the surface. “We were just… introducing her to Vermax.”

Baela’s eyes flickered to Jacaerys, and for a moment, the weight of their shared history seemed to press down on the space between the three of you. The warmth in Jacaerys’s expression was gone, replaced by a hint of discomfort, as if he were grappling with a conflict of emotions. 

Baela cleared her throat, attempting to bridge the gap. “I came to check on Moondancer and make sure she’s comfortable. I didn’t realize you’d be here.” 

Jacaerys shifted uncomfortably, the strain of his previous joy now visible in the tight set of his shoulders. “I should–” he began, but the words seemed to falter. He cleared his throat and straightened, trying to regain his composure. 

“I should let you be. I’ve taken up enough of your time.” Jace offered a polite, albeit slightly strained, smile as he turned towards you. His eyes held a flicker of something unreadable, a mixture of resignation and lingering affection. "I should take my leave," he said softly, his voice carrying a note of finality. 

You nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment at the abrupt change in mood. "Thank you for introducing me to him," you said, your voice sincere.

Jacaerys’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, a fleeting smile touching his lips before he turned to Baela. "I hope the rest of the day treats you both well."

Baela's expression softened as she watched Jacaerys retreat towards the entrance. As he walked away, the tension in the dragon pit seemed to dissipate, replaced by an air of quiet contentment.

After a beat of silence, she spoke, breaking the awkward moment. Baela’s gaze softened as she approached you, her initial surprise melting into genuine warmth. “I’m truly sorry for intruding,” she said, her tone sincere. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You smiled softly at Baela, trying to ease the lingering tension in the air. "It's alright, truly. You weren't intruding at all."

Baela approached, her eyes drifting to Vermax, who was still rumbling contentedly. "He seems to have taken a liking to you," she observed, a hint of admiration in her voice.

You glanced back at the dragon, feeling a mixture of awe and affection. "Jacaerys was kind enough to introduce us. I've never been this close to a dragon before, I’m quite nervous."

Baela chuckled softly, her laughter a soothing balm that eased your nerves. “That’s completely understandable,” she said. “The first time I was near Moondancer, I was shaking like a leaf. Dragons can be intimidating. But you handled it with such grace; Vermax is usually more reserved.”

Her words felt like a quiet reassurance, a bridge between your anxieties and the reality of the moment. You could see the sincerity in her eyes, the genuine appreciation she held for this small triumph. It was as if she, too, was celebrating the bond that was beginning to form.

“Jace must have really taken to you,” Baela continued, her eyes twinkling with a knowing smile. 

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at Baela's words, a mixture of pride and embarrassment flushing your cheeks. "He's been very patient with me," you admitted, your eyes drifting back to where Jacaerys had disappeared. "I'm grateful for his kindness."

Baela nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "He's got a gentle touch, that one."

You found yourself curious about the history between Baela and Jacaerys, but hesitated to pry. Instead, you turned your attention back to Vermax, who was still rumbling contentedly nearby. 

A gentle breeze stirred the air in the dragon pit, carrying with it the mingled scents of smoke and dragonhide. You watched as Vermax shifted slightly, his massive tail curling around him in a relaxed pose. The dragon’s contentment was palpable, a testament to the bond forming between you and the creature.

Baela cleared her throat, breaking the tranquil moment. “I should get going to check on Moondancer,” she said, her tone light and cheerful. “I will see you later? For our midday meal.”

You nodded, eyes trailing after her as she walked away from you. The moment with Jacaerys had been special, filled with a blend of tenderness and excitement. His departure had left a lingering sense of something unfinished, a space where his presence had been warm and reassuring. Now, as you stood alone with Vermax, you felt a pang of longing for the ease and connection you’d shared moments before.

You glanced towards the entrance of the dragon pit. Vermax rumbled again, a sound that felt almost like a fond farewell as you turned to leave. 

—————

Days drifted by, each day settling into a rhythm that felt both comforting and, at times, monotonous. Driven by a restless energy, you found yourself drawn to the training yard one afternoon, eager for a distraction from the sameness of your daily routine.

Your eyes were drawn to the center of the yard when you arrived, settling to stand nearby. You watched as knights clashed their swords, a few of them sharpening them and others simply training. Finally, your attention drifted to the grunts and louder sharp sounds that echoed in the air, Jacaerys wore a makeshift armor, only covering his chest and part of his legs as he aimed for the man before him.

There was something different about Jace. His movements were charged with an almost palpable frustration, each strike of his blade carrying a weight of unspoken anger. You watched, entranced and a little concerned, as he danced with his partner, his footwork sure and purposeful.

But then, in a moment that seemed to unfold in slow motion, Jacaerys overreached. The blade slipped from his grasp and turned against him, biting into the flesh of his hand with a viciousness that made you wince. The clang of the sword hitting the ground was like a thunderclap in the sudden silence that followed, every eye in the yard drawn to the prince’s moment of vulnerability.

It wasn't until Jacaerys stumbled back, his sword clattering to the ground, that you realized what had happened.

Jacaerys grimaced, the pain evident in the way he cradled his injured hand. Blood trickled down his fingers, a stark crimson against his pale skin. You felt a sharp pang of concern, your instincts urging you to go to him, to offer aid.

"Your Grace!" The knight exclaimed, rushing forward as Jacaerys clutched his hand to his chest. 

“Stay back.” Jace ordered, a grunt leaving his lips again as he looked down at his bloodied hand. The knight looked around, unsure of what to do.

You watched as Jacaerys waved off the knight, the young prince's eyes blazing with a mix of embarrassment and anger. It was clear that the pain was secondary to the frustration that now simmered beneath his skin, a potent mix of pride and self-reproach that made him bristle at the attention.

He stood, still cradling his hand, and straightened his posture, his expression hardening into one of determination. He nodded at the knights who had turned to look at him, his voice steady despite the obvious pain. “Back to your swords.”

The command seemed to snap the knights out of their shock, and they quickly resumed their practice, the sounds of clashing blades filling the air once more. Jacaerys remained where he was, his breath coming in sharp bursts as he fought to regain his composure.

You hesitated for a moment, torn between respecting his pride and offering the help he clearly needed. But the sight of his bloodied hand, coupled with the raw frustration etched across his features, propelled you forward. You approached him slowly, your footsteps deliberate and unthreatening.

"Jacaerys," you said softly, your voice barely rising above the din of the training yard. He turned to look at you, his eyes meeting yours. There was a distance in his gaze, a barrier that seemed to rise between you, but you pressed on, determined to offer whatever solace you could.

"Let me help you," you offered gently, gesturing to his injured hand. The words hung in the air between you, a lifeline extended across the chasm of his pride.

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, his gaze dropping to his hand, the blood now drying against his skin. 

"I don't need help," Jacaerys said, his voice clipped and guarded.

"Let me see."

Jacaerys' jaw tightened, a flicker of frustration passing across his features before he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. He seemed to weigh your words, the conflict evident in his eyes as he considered your offer.

Finally, with a reluctant nod, he extended his injured hand toward you. He avoided looking at you as you held his wrist, moving him to the inside of the castle as blood dripped down his fingers and onto the ground. 

As you led him inside the castle, away from the watchful eyes of the knights, Jacaerys' frustration seemed to simmer beneath the surface, an internal tempest he struggled to control. His movements were rigid, his silence heavy with unspoken words.

The frustration that clouded his mind was more than just about the training. It was a culmination of several things – the complexities of his relationship with Baela, the unease and uncertainty that seemed to seep into his days since you arrived, and the pressures of his own expectations. The training had become his escape, a way to channel his pent-up emotions into something tangible, something he could control.

Your presence now was a stark reminder of that inner storm. The sight of you, coming to his aid with a genuine concern that cut through his self-imposed barriers, only intensified his sense of vulnerability. It was as if your intervention had torn down a carefully constructed wall, exposing the raw nerves he had been trying to shield.

Inside the castle, you guided him to a small room, a quiet space away from the clamor of the training yard. The sunlight filtered through a narrow window, casting a soft glow on the stone walls. You set him down on a bench, your movements deliberate as you prepared to tend to his wound.

With a deep breath, you took his hand gently, the blood now congealing into dark patches against his pale skin. As you cleaned the wound, your touch was steady and soothing, a balm to his troubled mind.

Jacaerys watched you in silence, the weight of his frustration palpable in the tight lines of his face. His eyes, though distant at first, began to soften as you worked. Each brush of your fingers against his skin seemed to draw out some of the tension that had gripped him.

Yet, he refused to speak.

The room remained quiet save for the soft rustling of fabric and the gentle flow of water as you cleaned and bandaged his hand. 

As you finished bandaging his hand, you met his gaze with a soft, reassuring smile. The simple act of caring for him had forged a connection, bridging the gap created by his frustrations and the barriers he had erected. The walls he had so carefully constructed seemed to crumble, if only slightly, in the face of your genuine compassion.

"All done," you said gently, your voice a soothing murmur in the quiet room.

Jacaerys nodded, the simple gesture carrying a weight of gratitude and acknowledgment. His eyes, though still distant, held a trace of the vulnerability he had tried to shield. Unsure of what to do next, you sat in silence, his bandaged hand still sitting on yours, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of the cloth. 

With a sigh, you moved to stand. “I shall take my leave–” 

“No.”

You looked at him, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in your eyes. "Is there something else you need?" you asked, your voice gentle and open.

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours as if grappling with something he couldn’t quite articulate. The vulnerability that had surfaced during your care seemed to linger, a delicate thread connecting you both.

For a moment, Jacaerys remained silent, his expression a complex blend of contemplation and unease. It was clear that he was wrestling with the emotions that had surfaced – emotions that he had been trying to keep under control.

Finally, with a deep breath, he spoke. “I just… need a moment. Alone, but not alone. If that makes any sense.”

“I’m not following, Jacaerys.”

“Just… Just stay. Here.”

You studied him for a moment, the sincerity in his eyes and the depth of his request weighing heavily on you. His expression was a blend of vulnerability and longing, a quiet plea for comfort that he could not fully articulate aloud.

With a nod, you settled back into your seat, the minutes ticked by slowly, the only sounds the soft rustling of fabric as he adjusted his position and the occasional sigh that escaped him, each one a testament to the inner battle he was fighting. You watched him with quiet empathy, allowing him the space to navigate his emotions without feeling pressured to fill the silence.

Jacaerys’ gaze drifted out of the window, his eyes lost in thought. The sunlight cast a warm, golden hue over his face, and you couldn’t help but think that he looked beautiful. 

You could see the gradual softening of his features, the way his shoulders relaxed a bit more. It was as if the burden he carried had lightened just a fraction, if only because he had someone to share it with, even if only in silence.

Neither of you spoke of it since then, the needed company enough to ease the burden that Jacaerys had been carrying. 

—————

Days had passed, marked by the quiet moments of solace you'd been sharing. Jacaerys seemed to carry himself with a bit more ease around you, a small but noticeable shift in his demeanor. Though the castle continued its usual rhythm, with its clattering armor and distant roars of dragons, the moments of companionship between you had become a gentle, sincere bond.

You'd often find yourself drawn to him during those moments. It was as if the space you’d created together in the few months you’d been there had left a mark – a subtle, lingering sense of understanding that hung between you, yet not strong enough to end the awkward moments where Jace’s brain reminded him of Baela, or when he’d get nervous around her still. 

Though he didn’t have anybody to speak of it with, Jacaerys felt a stronger care towards you, slowly beginning to accept his duty and where his heart was taking him.

Whether it was through shared meals or the occasional chance meeting in the castle corridors, there was a new layer of connection that seemed to envelop your interactions.

One afternoon, as you wandered the castle grounds, you found yourself in the garden, little Joffrey laid next to you, a serene haven amid the chaos of court life. The sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm, golden light over the flowering beds. 

You had come to clear your mind, to find a moment of peace, and the small child had trailed behind you, desperate for some company.

Lost in thought, you almost didn’t notice Jacaerys approaching until he was almost upon you. The soft crunch of gravel beneath his boots alerted you to his presence, and you looked up, a smile forming on your lips as you met his gaze.

Jacaerys’ expression was relaxed, a stark contrast to the intensity you had seen in him before. He glanced at Joffrey, who was now busy examining a particularly vibrant blossom with wide-eyed curiosity.

“Hello,” the kid greeted, your tone warm and welcoming.

“Hello,” Jacaerys replied, his voice carrying a gentle warmth. His eyes flickered briefly to Joffrey before settling back on you. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

You shook your head, the soft rustle of your movement blending with the whisper of the wind through the garden. “Not at all. Joffrey’s just enjoying the flowers.”

Jacaerys paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on the child. With a thoughtful expression and a small smile, he approached and gently placed a hand on Joffrey’s small shoulder. “Joffrey, why don’t you go find Rhaena? I believe she’s somewhere near the training yard.”

Joffrey looked up at him, his expression a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. “But I want to stay with you,” he protested softly.

“You’ll find Rhaena much more interesting,” Jacaerys coaxed, his tone kind but firm. “And I promise I’ll see you soon.”

“Please?”

Jacaerys’ gaze softened as he looked at the little boy. His hand lingered on Joffrey’s shoulder, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes. With a gentle sigh, he turned to you, his expression easing into a more relaxed smile, letting you choose.

“It’s alright,” you said, chuckling. “If Joffrey wishes to stay, then let him. It’s not often we have the chance to simply enjoy the garden.”

Joffrey’s face lit up with a delighted grin, his initial reluctance melting away. He clambered back to his spot next to you, resuming his exploration of the flowers with renewed enthusiasm. 

Jacaerys settled onto the ground, leaving his sword behind and nestling next to his brother, his posture relaxed as he observed the scene before him. The child mumbled flower names he’d learned about, picking some up to hold them up to you and Jace in pride. 

As the three of you sat in the garden, the atmosphere was filled with a gentle tranquility. Joffrey's innocent enthusiasm for the flowers brought a lightness to the air, his excited chatter a soothing backdrop to the moment.

Jacaerys watched his younger brother with a fondness that softened his features. His eyes, usually guarded, held a warmth that spoke volumes about his love for Joffrey. As the child continued to explore, holding up various blooms for inspection, Jacaerys found his gaze drifting towards you.

There was something different in the way he looked at you now. The tension that had often clouded his expression in your presence seemed to have eased, replaced by a quiet appreciation. It was as if he was seeing you anew, through the lens of your kindness towards your surroundings and the gentle way you interacted with him.

He felt his chest tighten in nervousness as he reached behind his brother, who was too distracted by the flowers in front of him to notice Jacaerys’ hand itching towards yours. 

“You seem more at ease,” you remarked gently, the words barely more than a whisper, yet carrying a depth of observation. “How are you finding things lately?”

Jacaerys shrugged a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’m well, I suppose.”

Jace shifted slightly, his fingers still hovering near yours, but he hesitated. His eyes flickered between you and Joffrey, who was now eagerly describing a particularly colorful flower to you with wide, innocent eyes. The child’s chatter filled the space between you, an unwitting barrier that Jacaerys seemed to navigate with care.

He found himself drawn more and more to your presence. The way you listened attentively to his little brother, offering gentle encouragement and genuine interest, stirred something within him. It was a softness he hadn't expected to feel, a warmth that seemed to spread through his chest.

His fingers, still hovering near yours, trembled slightly with indecision. The desire to bridge that final gap, to make that physical connection, warred with the lingering echoes of his past with Baela. But as he watched you smile at Joffrey, your eyes crinkling with genuine affection, Jacaerys felt something shift within him.

Slowly, cautiously, he let his hand move those final few inches. His fingers brushed against yours, a touch so light it could have been mistaken for a breeze. But then, with a surge of courage, he gently covered your hand with his.

The contact sent a jolt through him, a mix of nervousness and excitement that made his heart race. He kept his eyes fixed on Joffrey, afraid to meet your gaze, afraid of what he might see there. But he didn't pull away.

You glanced at him, but his eyes were still focused on Joffrey, though you could see a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

With a final, enthusiastic show of a particularly bright bloom, Joffrey tugged at your sleeve and glanced up at you. “I want to go find Rhaena now,” he said, his small voice tinged with excitement at the prospect of a new adventure.

You looked at him and nodded, smiling at his boundless energy. “She’ll be happy to see you.”

Joffrey beamed, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “I’ll tell her all about the flowers!” he declared, holding up the few flowers that could fit in his palm before scampering off towards the training yard, his laughter and light footsteps fading into the distance.

As the child’s presence disappeared, the garden seemed to settle back into its previous serenity, leaving just you and Jacaerys alone amidst the blooming tranquility. 

Jacaerys shifted slightly, his hand still resting gently over yours. He finally allowed his gaze to meet yours. His eyes, now more open and honest, held a hint of the conflicted emotions he had been grappling with. 

You could tell something ate at him, had he not wanted to talk about it with his brother present. Gazing at him, you offered a gentle, encouraging smile. “Would you like to talk about what’s troubling you?”

Jacaerys looked away for a moment, his brow furrowing as he struggled with his thoughts. His fingers tightened slightly around yours. 

“It’s just…” he began, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. “I’ve been feeling… left out. Disregarded, almost.”

You tilted your head slightly, encouraging him to continue. “How so?”

Jacaerys shifted his position, the tension evident in the way he gripped the grass beneath him. “I feel like my mother… she doesn’t trust me to take on the responsibilities I believe I’m ready for.”

His words came out in a rush, as if the weight of them had been too much to keep contained any longer. “She hasn’t sent me to war, hasn’t allowed me to fly on dragonback to our allies or to attack the Greens. I understand that she wants to protect me, but it feels as though she’s holding me back, not giving me a chance to prove myself.”

You considered his words carefully before responding. "Your mother's caution comes from a place of love, Jace.” you moved to sit closer to him. “The realm is at war, and losing you would be devastating, not just for her."

His brow furrowed, a mix of understanding and lingering frustration evident in his expression. "I know that, but–"

"She's lost so much already," you continued gently. "The thought of losing you too must terrify her."

A flicker of understanding crossed Jacaerys' face. "I hadn't... I mean, I know she worries, but..."

He brought his free hand to his hair, pushing it back before. “I just wish she’d let me act. I only wish to help.”

“It might not feel like it, but sometimes being present and prepared is just as important as taking immediate action.”

He let himself fall back, hand still in yours as he laid on the grass. You settled beside him, keeping a respectful distance but close enough to offer comfort. 

"You want to make a difference, Jacaerys," you said softly, your voice blending with the tranquil sounds around you. "That’s a noble desire."

He closed his eyes for a moment, the serene atmosphere providing a brief escape from his inner turmoil. "I want to prove that I’m capable, that I can be trusted with more than just the responsibilities here at the castle."

“I rather like having you here, at the castle.” you admitted, cheeks burning as he turned to face you, you avoided his eyes.

Jacaerys’ gaze lingered on you, and you could feel the warmth of his attention even without looking directly at him. The confession had slipped out before you could fully rein it in, leaving you feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. 

You could see him processing your words, the flicker of surprise in his eyes softening into something more contemplative.

“You like having me here?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. There was a trace of something in his tone – curiosity, perhaps, or a tentative hope.

You nodded, still avoiding his gaze as you looked out at the blooming flowers. “Yes. Your presence here has been… comforting.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he almost whispered, “I like having you here, too.”

The realization that had begun to dawn upon him – the understanding of his feelings and the recognition of your presence as something deeply significant – seemed to transform the way he’d been looking at you. 

His eyes traced the contours of your face with a mix of awe and realization, as if seeing you in a light that was both startling and illuminating. The intensity of his stare spoke of a shift in his heart, a transition from the shadow of his past desires to the clarity of his present feelings.

His fingers moved to your wrist, softly caressing the skin as he stared. You felt your heart rate pick up, nervous under his gaze.

The realization that he had been holding back, that his past with Baela had obscured the thought of the potential of something new, seemed to now weigh heavily on him. Yet, despite the tumult of his emotions, there was a serene acceptance in his gaze as he watched you.

Eventually, he was shaken out of his thoughts by one of the handmaids approaching, hands together behind her back. “My prince, your presence is requested at the court.”

Jace’s hand reluctantly slipped from yours as he sat up, the moment of shared vulnerability giving way to the demands of his role. He looked at you, his expression a mix of regret and determination. “I suppose I must attend,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of reluctance.

You gave him a reassuring smile, though your heart felt a pang of disappointment at the interruption. “Of course. Duty calls.”

He rose to his feet, his posture shifting back into the prince’s armor of composure and authority. Yet, there was a softness in his eyes that lingered—a remnant of the moment you’d shared in the garden. He extended a hand to help you up, a gesture that was both courteous and intimate.

As you took his hand, you felt the warmth of his touch and the slight tremor in his fingers. It was as if the brief connection you had shared had made him more aware of your presence, more attuned to the quiet understanding that had passed between you.

“I’ll see you later?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of uncertainty as he looked at you.

You nodded, trying to keep the reassurance in your tone steady. “I’ll be around.”

Jacaerys offered a small, genuine smile before turning towards the handmaid, his demeanor shifting back to the prince of the realm. He followed her down the garden path, his steps more measured, his gaze occasionally turning back to where you stood.

—————

The prince was nowhere to be found. The castle’s usual rhythm was disrupted as whispers of Jacaerys’ disappearance spread through the corridors. The once-familiar sounds of bustling servants and the distant murmur of courtly debates felt suddenly fraught with tension. You moved through the stone halls with a sense of urgency, the weight of concern pressing heavily on your chest.

It had been a restless night after Jacaerys confided in you about his plans. His frustration and the quiet desperation in his voice had painted a vivid picture of a prince caught between duty and desire. He had sneaked past your chambers at midnight and told you, in hushed tones, about his decision to leave the castle in search of allies, to rally forces in favor of his mother’s cause. He begged for it to be kept a secret, for his mother would not allow it if he was found out. 

Now, as you scoured the castle, each passing moment felt like a lost opportunity to stop him. You had hoped he’d reconsider, that the gravity of his actions would weigh on him enough to stay, but now the absence of his familiar presence was a stark reminder of his resolve. You felt anxious at the amount of hours he’d been gone, his dragon with him.

As the days passed without any sign of Jacaerys, the castle's atmosphere remained tense, with whispered conversations falling silent as you approached. You couldn't shake the feeling of being an unwilling conspirator in the prince's absence.

To distract yourself from the gnawing worry, you sought out the company of Baela and Rhaena. You spent time with them in the gardens, listening to Baela's spirited tales of dragon-riding and Rhaena's quieter musings on history and lore. Their presence offered a semblance of normalcy in these unsettling times.

As the week drew to a close, you found yourself lying awake in your chambers, your mind racing with possibilities of Jacaerys' fate. The silence of the night was suddenly broken by a commotion in the halls. Heart pounding, you rose and moved towards the door, straining to make sense of the muffled voices and hurried footsteps.

Emerging into the corridor, you were met with a flurry of activity. Servants rushed past, carrying linens and basins of water. The air was thick with tension and an undercurrent of relief. As you made your way towards the source of the disturbance, you overheard fragments of conversation.

"The prince has returned..."

"...wounded, but alive..."

"...flew in on a weak Vermax..."

Your steps quickened as you approached Jacaerys' chambers. The door stood ajar, and you caught glimpses of the prince through the gap. He was seated on the edge of his bed, surrounded by maesters and attendants. His face was pale and drawn, with a bandage visible beneath his torn shirt and a bloodied gash on the side of his face, from his eyebrow to his cheek. 

As you hovered uncertainly in the doorway, torn between relief at his return and apprehension about the consequences of his actions, Jacaerys' gaze met yours. He shared a small smile before the door was shut fully.

Hours later, when the halls had once again fallen silent, restlessness clung to you like a second skin. So, when you heard the soft knock at your chamber door, your breath hitched with a mix of relief and apprehension. You recognized Jacaerys’ familiar rhythm: two quick raps, a pause, followed by another. Without hesitation, you moved to open the door, ushering him inside and closing it behind him with a soft click.

“Jace,” you whispered, your voice a blend of concern and gentle reproach. “You should be resting. The maesters–”

“They exaggerate,” he cut in, a wry smile curving his lips. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, which were shadowed with fatigue. “I can walk just fine, and these”, he gestured vaguely to his face and torso, “are merely flesh wounds. They’ll scar, nothing more.”

You took a long, careful look at him. Despite the bravado in his voice, you could see the toll of the day’s events etched into his features. The weariness was palpable in the way he held himself, slightly hunched as though to shield his injuries from the world. His normally bright eyes seemed dimmed, burdened with an invisible weight that hadn’t been there before he left.

“What happened out there?” you asked softly, guiding him to sit on the edge of your bed. You remained standing, unable to find the calm to settle.

Jacaerys sighed deeply, his hand running through his disheveled hair, pushing it away from his face. He shook his head, the gesture heavy with unspoken frustration and exhaustion. 

"It's... a long story," he said, his voice weary. "I wouldn't want to bore you with the details."

You moved closer, your eyes fixed on his face. "Jace, you could never bore me."

He looked up at you, a flicker of gratitude passing across his features. But then he shook his head again, more gently this time. "I appreciate that, truly. But right now... I just need a moment of peace. This past week has been..." He trailed off, seemingly unable to find the words to describe his ordeal.

"And I know that once my mother hears of my return, there will be no escaping her scolding," he added with a rueful smile. "I wanted to see you before that storm breaks."

Your heart softened at his words. You sat down beside him on the bed, careful not to jostle his injuries. "I'm glad you came," you said softly. "I've been worried sick about you."

Jacaerys turned to face you, his eyes searching yours. 

“We all have been,” you added. “Baela… your mother…”

A flicker of acknowledgement passed over Jacaerys' face at the mention of Baela, but it lacked the usual undercurrent of pain and longing you'd grown accustomed to seeing. Instead, there was a quiet acceptance in his eyes, as if a weight had been lifted.

"I'm sorry for worrying you all," he said softly, his gaze dropping to his hands.

Jacaerys remained quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on his hands. Though he didn't voice it, the week away had been harder than he'd anticipated, not just because of the physical trials he'd endured. He'd found himself missing your presence more than he'd expected – your counsel, your companionship, the comfort of your familiar face in a sea of uncertainty.

When he'd caught a glimpse of you outside his chambers earlier, a part of him had wanted to dismiss all the fussing maesters immediately. He'd longed to speak with you, to see you, to share the weight of his experiences, to seek solace in your understanding.

His eyes lifted to meet yours again, “What have you been doing in my absence?”

You huffed, fixing your posture and faking a smile. “Queen-to-be training, apparently.”

"Queen-to-be training?" he repeated, his tone a mix of amusement and sympathy. "I can only imagine. Let me guess – the maesters have been relentless?"

You nodded, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. "They were absolutely scandalized when they discovered I hadn't been taught to sew as a child. You'd think I'd committed some grave offense against the realm itself."

He shook his head, still smiling. Jace leaned back slightly, his posture relaxing as he listened to you. Despite his fatigue, he seemed genuinely entertained by your predicament. "And how are you faring with these... essential skills?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

You gave him a playful glare. "I'll have you know, my stitches are only slightly crooked now. Though I fear my embroidered dragons look more like angry lizards."

This elicited another laugh from Jacaerys, louder this time. He quickly pressed a hand to his side, but the smile remained. "Well, I for one would be honored to have a tapestry of angry lizards adorning the castle walls."

You couldn't help but smile at Jacaerys' laughter, even as concern flickered in your eyes when he winced. It was good to see him in lighter spirits, despite his injuries.

"I'm glad you find my struggles amusing, Your Grace," you retorted with mock indignation.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

You couldn't help but smile at his fake offense. "Oh! And apparently, I've been pronouncing 'Targaryen' wrong all this time."

Jacaerys raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh? And how have you been saying it?"

You demonstrated, exaggerating your previous pronunciation. 

Jacaerys laughed loudly again, shaking his head. "Well, I suppose we can't have a future queen mangling the family name. Though between you and me, I think half the smallfolk say it differently anyway."

The way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the genuine amusement that softened the harsh lines of his face, was a reminder of the boyish prince beneath the layers of duty and exhaustion.

You watched him carefully, your heart aching with a mixture of relief and lingering worry. “You really should rest,” you said gently, reaching out to adjust the bandage on his forehead, which had started to peel from the corner. 

His hand came up to cup yours, linking your fingers together as he hesitated. “I suppose I should.”

As if summoned by some mischievous deity, a muffled voice filtered through the heavy chamber doors, shattering the intimate moment. The maester's call, though faint, rang out clearly in the sudden silence: "My prince?"

Jacaerys tensed slightly, his hand tightening around yours for a brief moment before he let out a soft sigh.

"It seems my reprieve was short-lived," he murmured, a note of resignation in his voice.

You both stood, reluctantly letting your hands fall apart. Jacaerys moved towards the door, his movements careful and measured to avoid aggravating his injuries. 

The door creaked open to reveal the maester, whose expression was a blend of relief and professional concern. Behind him, the flickering torchlight cast shadows that danced across the walls, adding to the sense of urgency.

“My prince,” the maester began, his gaze flickering to you with a polite nod, “You must rest.”

As he turned to follow the maester, he glanced back at you, a brief, almost imperceptible smile passing across his lips. The door closed behind them, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room. The soft rustling of fabric and the distant murmur of footsteps were the only sounds breaking the stillness. After a week of restless nights, you finally let sleep take over you.

The next day dawned with a flurry of activity in the castle. You rose early, your mind still occupied with thoughts of Jacaerys and the events of the previous night. As you prepared for your daily lessons, you caught snippets of conversation from passing servants – apparently, the prince had been confined to his chambers on the Queen's orders until his wounds fully healed.

Your morning was filled with the now-familiar routine of "queen-to-be" training, barely having time to visit your betrothed. Every time you’d tried to sneak past the maester in charge, or one of the maids, you’d be given a stern look that made you sit back down to focus on your duties. 

As you moved through the castle corridors between lessons, your path took you past Jacaerys' chambers. You slowed your steps, hoping for a glimpse or perhaps a chance to check on him. Instead, you saw Baela and Rhaena approaching his door.

You hesitated, watching as Baela knocked and then entered the room with a gentleness that seemed at odds with her usual boisterous demeanor. Through the briefly open door, you caught a glimpse of Jacaerys, propped up in bed, his face lighting up at the sight of his cousins.

A pang of something – jealousy? concern? – fluttered in your chest as you observed Baela's careful movements around Jacaerys, her hand resting on his arm, a small smile on both of their faces. But as you watched their interaction, brief as it was, you realized with a sense of relief that there was nothing more than friendship between them. The easy camaraderie, the lack of tension or hidden glances – it all spoke of a comfortable, familial bond rather than the romantic entanglement that had been haunting them for the past months.

As the door closed behind the sisters, you found yourself releasing a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. The knot of tension in your chest loosened, replaced by a warm feeling of reassurance. You continued on your way to your next lesson, your steps lighter than before.

Throughout the rest of the day, your thoughts occasionally drifted to Jacaerys, wondering how he was faring in his confinement. You made a mental note to find a way to visit him yourself, perhaps under the guise of delivering some reading material or simply to offer companionship during his recovery.

—————

Three days had gone by, Jace’s absense from the castle’s halls feeling like a palpable void. The castle's routine continued its relentless pace, but each day felt marked by the absence of the prince, who remained in his chambers as per the Queen’s decree. The usual sounds of the castle – footsteps echoing in the corridors, the murmur of conversations, and the clinking of dishes during meals – seemed muted without Jacaerys’ vibrant presence.

Your lessons, though diligently attended, seemed to stretch endlessly. The repetitive drills and the constant pressure to perfect every task left you feeling drained. 

On the third day, the weight of confinement began to bear down on you. The castle walls seemed to close in, and the routines felt increasingly stifling. You could no longer ignore the need to see Jacaerys, to offer him your support and comfort in person.

In the late afternoon, as the sun began to cast a warm, golden light through the castle windows, you decided to act. With a determined resolve, you gathered a stack of books, their leather covers and gold leafing catching the light, and made your way toward Jacaerys’ chambers. This time, you hoped your visit would be more than just a fleeting encounter.

As you approached his door, you took a deep breath, your nerves fluttering with anticipation. You knocked gently, the sound a soft reminder of your presence.

You were met with silence. 

You were about to knock a second time when the door creaked open just slightly, and you caught a glimpse of Jacaerys himself standing on the other side. His disheveled hair and the faint smile that tugged at his lips betrayed a hint of mischief.

Before you could react, he grabbed your hand with a swift, practiced motion and pulled you into the shadowed recess of the large closet adjacent to his door. The suddenness of the action left you breathless and slightly disoriented, but the familiar scent of cedar and leather from the closet’s wooden shelves quickly grounded you.

The closet was spacious enough to accommodate both of you. As your eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the small crack in the door, you saw Jacaerys leaning against the wooden wall, his face a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“You,” he said in a low voice, a smile playing at the corners of his lips, “have impeccable timing.”

You let out a soft laugh, your nerves calming as you realized the nature of this unexpected encounter. “Shouldn’t you be resting?” you teased, trying to peer through the sliver of light to gauge your surroundings.

Jacaerys shrugged lightly, though the movement was cautious to avoid aggravating his injuries. “The maesters have been relentless. They’ve turned my chambers into a medical haven. And every time they think I’m alone, they come barging in.”

“This is not quite the secret escape I envisioned,” Jacaerys continued, his voice tinged with a playful undertone. “But I needed a moment away from the constant attention.”

You turned to face him fully, the dim light highlighting the fatigue etched into his features. Despite his light-hearted words, the exhaustion was evident. “I can imagine,” you said softly. “I’m sorry to intrude. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

He reached out and took your hand, his touch gentle but firm. Jacaerys’ smile widened, though his eyes remained shadowed with fatigue. “I’m glad you came,” he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine relief. “I’ve missed our conversations.”

“I’ve missed them too,” you admitted. 

“I’m sure they have gone to folly, they won’t let me stand from bed without making a fuss of it.” he nodded his head towards the doors, referring to the healers. Though the light was dim, you could still see some of the light hit his face, letting you see the wide smile on his face, and the less-reddened stitches on his brow.

You glanced around the small space, the closet’s confines feeling oddly intimate as you and Jacaerys stood close together, the warmth of his presence a comforting balm. You could still hear the distant murmur of servants and the occasional clatter of dishes, but the noise felt miles away from this hidden nook.

“You’ve been so diligent with your lessons,” he said, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “I was beginning to think you enjoyed them more than my company.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Hardly,” you said. “If you could see the looks I get from the maesters when I try to sneak away, you’d know I’m barely enjoying myself.”

You heard the faintest sound of footsteps approaching, and your heart skipped a beat. The maesters, ever vigilant, seemed to be making their rounds again. The muffled conversation from outside the door grew clearer, and you could catch fragments of their voices discussing treatments and concerns.

Jacaerys tensed slightly, his hand squeezing yours for a brief moment before letting go. He brought his finger to his lips, telling you to be silent. He glanced towards the door, his face reflecting a mixture of concern and frustration. 

“We should–”

Jace cut you off by pushing the door to the closet, creaking it open just enough to let in a sliver of light, and you heard one of the maesters call out, “My prince?”

Jacaerys’ eyes widened slightly, and he moved quickly, guiding you further into the closet’s shadows. You followed his lead, pressing yourself against the wall.

The maesters’ voices grew louder, and you could see their shadows falling across the floor just outside the closet. “He must be somewhere around here,” one of them said with a hint of irritation. “He can’t have vanished into thin air.”

The tension in the small, shadowed closet was almost palpable. You and Jacaerys huddled together, your breaths shallow and synchronized as you listened to the footsteps drawing nearer. 

Jacaerys' hand, still warm from holding yours, rested lightly on your back, a comforting presence amid the growing anxiety. His face, illuminated by the narrow stream of light sneaking in through the partially opened closet door, reflected a hint of amusement.

The maesters' voices were now directly outside the door, their conversation laced with frustration. “He couldn’t have gone far,” one of them said with a note of exasperation. 

“His Lady is also gone.” you recognized the voice from the maester that ‘helped’ with your duties. 

The sound of the maesters' footsteps echoed ominously in the corridor, each step growing closer and more insistent. The air in the closet was warm and heavy, mingling with the faint scent of cedar and leather. You pressed yourself closer to Jacaerys, your heart pounding in sync with the increasingly agitated voices outside.

Jacaerys' attempt to stifle a giggle came out as a muffled snort, his shoulders shaking with barely contained mirth. The sound was so unexpected that it made you bite back a laugh of your own, though you knew it would only draw more attention. You nudged him gently, your eyes narrowing with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

“Jace,” you whispered fiercely, “this is not the time for laughter.”

He covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of apology and suppressed hilarity. “I’m sorry,” he managed to whisper, his voice trembling with barely contained laughter.

"...The Lady must be with him," one of the maesters said, frustration evident in his tone. "It’s rather irregular for them both to be missing at once."

You could almost see the disapproving frown on the maester’s face. The idea of being found in such a compromising position made your cheeks burn with mortification. Your heart raced as you imagined the potential scandal that could arise from this misunderstanding.

“They must think we–”

Jacaerys, sensing your distress, gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. His eyes, despite their fatigue, held a mixture of amusement and tenderness. He leaned in slightly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “They’ve jumped to conclusions. Don’t worry.”

You covered your face with your hands, even though he could barely see you, he stifled another giggle. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of mortification at the thought that anyone might assume something dishonorable was happening between you. Without thinking, you reached for the doors, wishing to push them open and stop the gossiping outside that questioned yours and the prince’s ability to wait for the wedding.

Jacaerys let out a barely audible sigh, his hand still resting lightly on your back. “We should stay put,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “They’ll leave eventually.”

You nodded, stepping back and pressing closer into the shadows of the closet. The cool, cedar-scented air was a stark contrast to the warmth of Jace’s body near yours. The narrow stream of light that filtered through the crack in the door illuminated the small space in patches, casting elongated shadows that danced around you.

Minutes felt like hours as you waited in the tense silence. You could hear the maesters’ frustration mounting, their voices rising in pitch as they grew increasingly exasperated. Jacaerys was still smiling at the distress.

The voices of the maesters gradually began to recede, their footsteps growing fainter as they moved further down the corridor. You exhaled slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing just slightly. Jacaerys, still pressed close to you, let out a soft chuckle, though he quickly stifled it with a hand over his mouth.

You could feel the heat of his laughter reverberating through his chest, a sensation that was both comforting and endearing despite the precariousness of your situation. You turned to him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. His smile, despite the exhaustion that lined his face, was infectious.

“You could try to find a more comfortable hiding spot, next time.”

“Noted,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. You hoped that by the time all the maesters were out of the room and you stepped out of the closet, the evident flush of embarrassment that showed in your stance and your face. 

As the final echoes of the maesters' footsteps faded away, you and Jacaerys remained hidden in the closet, the silence now a companion rather than an adversary. The tension that had clung to the air began to dissipate, replaced by a more relaxed atmosphere that was punctuated by Jacaerys' muffled chuckles and your own quiet, relieved laughter.

You shifted slightly, careful not to jostle Jacaerys too much, and peered through the narrow crack in the closet door. The hallway outside was empty, the earlier disturbance seemingly a distant memory. You turned back to Jacaerys, whose face was lit by a smile that softened the lines of worry etched into his features.

“Are they gone?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Jacaerys nodded, his expression one of satisfaction mixed with residual amusement. “I think we’re clear. Though I doubt they'll stop their search anytime soon.”

With a final glance towards the partially open door, you slowly eased out of the closet, Jacaerys following suit with a careful, measured movement. The light from the corridor spilled into the closet, illuminating the room in a warm glow that made the shadows retreat. You watched as Jace made his way to his bed, patting the spot next to him for you to sit. 

Jacaerys sank onto the bed with a sigh of relief, the weariness of his injuries evident in the way he settled. You sat beside him, careful to keep your movements gentle and unhurried. 

“I’d brought you books,” you said, pointing at the pile of books that had fallen to the floor when he pushed you into the hiding spot. 

“Would you read to me?”

The request was soft, almost hesitant, but you could see the faint hope in his eyes. 

“Of course,” you said, your voice gentle as you began to gather the books from the floor. You selected one that seemed lighthearted, its cover adorned with an intricate illustration that promised adventure and whimsy. You settled back onto the bed beside him, the book open in your lap.

Jacaerys shifted slightly, propping himself up with a few pillows to make himself more comfortable. 

The room seemed to grow quieter, the only sounds the gentle rustle of pages and your soothing voice. Jacaerys’ eyes, once shadowed with fatigue, now shone with a mixture of relief and contentment. He listened intently, his gaze fixed on you as if the story was a lifeline pulling him away from the distress of his injuries.

You paused occasionally, glancing up to see his reaction, and each time you were met with a smile or a look of fascination.

After a while, Jacaerys let out a contented sigh, his hand resting on the book as you reached a particularly gripping part of the story. 

He cleared his throat softly, a subtle gesture that drew your attention away from the book. His gaze was momentarily fixed on your face, as if seeking the right words amidst the shadows and flickering candlelight.

He paused, as if weighing his next words carefully. “There’s something I’d like to ask,” he said, his voice a soft murmur.

You felt a flutter of anticipation in your chest. “What is it?”

Jacaerys’ gaze fell to the book, then back to you. “Would you… kiss me?”

The request was almost shy, a contrast to the bold stories you’d been reading together. But there was something incredibly sincere in his tone, a plea for a simple yet profound gesture of closeness.

You didn’t hesitate. You set the book aside, letting it rest gently on the bed. You moved closer to him, your heart racing with a mix of tenderness and excitement. Jacaerys’ breath was warm against your cheek as you leaned in.

You pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek, the touch delicate and affectionate. His skin was warm and slightly rough from the healing, but there was a softness that spoke of his vulnerability. As your lips met his cheek, you felt him relax, a sigh of contentment escaping him.

When you pulled back, Jacaerys looked at you with a smile that was both grateful and serene. His eyes were bright, the earlier exhaustion giving way to a peaceful calm. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

For a few moments, there was only the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing and the occasional crackle of the candle flames. The evening outside continued its slow descent into night, the castle settling into a peaceful hush.

The sound of the doors opening eventually broke the silence, you almost jumped from the bed, the thought of being found in bed, unchaperoned, with Jace. 

Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of the doors creaking open. Panic surged through you as you glanced quickly at Jacaerys, whose own eyes widened in alarm. You barely had time to react before the intruder – a young maid, her face flushed with the energy of youth – appeared in the doorway.

You froze, every muscle tensing as she looked around the room with wide, innocent eyes. The maid's gaze fell upon you and Jacaerys, sitting together on the bed. Her cheeks reddened slightly, a mix of surprise and embarrassment flickering across her face.

“I–I’m sorry, My Prince,” she stammered, her eyes darting between you and Jacaerys. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Jacaerys, still propped up on the pillows, cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. “It’s alright,” he said, his voice steady despite the situation. 

The maid took a step into the room, her gaze flickering nervously. “The maesters are looking for you, my prince. They’ve been rather anxious, and I’ve been sent to see if you made your way back to your chambers.”

You could sense Jacaerys’ frustration at the intrusion, though he managed to keep his demeanor calm. He looked at you, a silent plea for understanding in his eyes. You offered a reassuring nod, then moved to rise from the bed.

“I’ll go,” you said gently. “It’s best if I make my exit before things get more complicated.”

Jacaerys reached out, taking your hand with a brief but tender grip. “Thank you for being here,” he said softly, his eyes conveying the depth of his gratitude.

You smiled, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before reluctantly pulling away. “I’ll see you soon,” you promised.

—————

The days that followed your clandestine visit to Jacaerys were a blend of anticipation and reflection. The castle continued its relentless rhythm, but now, each echo and murmur seemed tinged with the memory of your hidden conversation. Jacaerys’ recovery was progressing, and the tension that had initially surrounded his confinement began to ease. The maesters, though still vigilant, were less inclined to hover, and the prince’s rooms were gradually returning to a semblance of normalcy.

You had kept your promise to Jacaerys, visiting him regularly. Each visit was a delicate balance of light-hearted storytelling and quiet companionship. 

Among the many who noticed the change was Baela. The shadows of the past days had given way to a hopeful light, and Baela could sense the shift. She had seen the glances exchanged, the shared smiles, and the subtle, unspoken understanding between you and Jacaerys. It was clear to her that something had deepened between you two, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness for her friend and his newfound joy.

Your months in Dragonstone, even while its halls were rumbling with conversations about the war, were a stark contrast to the familiar, yet isolating, walls of your own castle, where being the only girl and without siblings had left you feeling like a solitary figure amidst the vast expanse of family and duty.

After having spent every given moment with Baela and Rhaena, they had become your confidantes, your sisters of choice, each sharing in the trials and triumphs of your days with an openness that was both refreshing and comforting. And the enthusiasm for company of the small Joffrey made your heart ache with care.

Little Joffrey was fast asleep with his head on your lap, both of you sitting on the grass outside of the castle, under the dappled shade of an ancient oak.

Beside you, Baela and Rhaena lounged on a cloth spread out on the grass. They chatted animatedly, their voices a melodic blend of excitement and curiosity. Baela was gesticulating with animated gestures, her laughter bright. Rhaena smiled warmly, her gaze occasionally shifting to the slumbering Joffrey with an expression of affectionate amusement.

The halt of steps beside you made you look up, a small smile creeping to your face at the sight of your betrothed. 

Without a word, Jacaerys stopped by your side, his gaze flicking to Baela and Rhaena, who had paused in their conversation, their curiosity piqued by his arrival. His expression softened as he met your eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had grown between you.

He cleared his throat softly, a gesture that drew your attention. “Could I speak with you for a moment?” His tone was courteous yet carried an undertone of urgency that made you sit up slightly, careful not to disturb Joffrey’s slumber.

You nodded, glancing at Baela and Rhaena, who exchanged curious glances but remained silent, their interest evident. “Of course,” you said, rising gently and carefully lifting Joffrey to lay him down on one of the girls, ensuring he remained comfortable.

As you moved away from the blanket and the lively chatter, Jacaerys fell into step beside you. His presence was reassuring, though his demeanor was serious. He guided you a short distance away from the others, near a secluded spot where the oak's branches formed a natural canopy, providing a sense of privacy.

Once you were out of earshot, he stopped and turned to face you, his expression a mix of anticipation and something akin to nervousness. His hand moved to the small of your back.

“What is it?” you asked with a smile.

“I figured we could use a moment alone,”  Jacaerys' demeanor shifted subtly as he faced you, his eyes softening with warmth. A hint of a playful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He stepped closer, his hand still resting gently on the small of your back.

"Well," he began, his voice low and tinged with a hint of mischief, "I've been thinking about something for a while now." His gaze flickered briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again. 

He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. "I was hoping we might... continue where we left off the other day?" he murmured, his tone filled with gentle suggestion.

“Whatever do you mean?” 

Jacaerys' fingers traced a feather-light pattern on your back, sending a shiver down your spine. His other hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, lingering there for a moment.

Jace smiled softly, his eyes twinkling with affection as he gazed at you. "You know what I mean," he said gently, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand moved from your hair to cup your cheek tenderly. “I have grown to care deeply for you. You cloud my judgment.”

With a gentle tilt of his head, Jacaerys closed the remaining distance between you. His lips met yours in a soft, sweet kiss. It was brief but filled with emotion – a tender expression of the growing bond between you. As he pulled back slightly, his eyes searched for yours, filled with hope and a question.

"Was that alright?" he whispered, his hand still cradling your cheek.

You felt a rush of warmth spreading through you, your heart beating a little faster. This moment, shared in the dappled shade of the ancient oak, felt like the beginning of something precious. The playful glint in Jacaerys' eyes mixed with genuine care, creating a connection that went beyond your formal betrothal.

In the distance, you could hear the muffled laughter of Baela and Rhaena, a reminder of the world beyond this intimate moment. But for now, wrapped in Jacaerys' gentle embrace, you allowed yourself to savor this new chapter in your relationship, full of promise and sweet beginnings.

taglist: @smurfelle @earth4angels @ @sillylittlepenguin181818 (taglist link is on pinned!)

[finelinevogue]

love in photos

summary - a sum up of love on tour with a few instagram posts

word count - 1k

pairing - boyfriend!harry x reader

liked by annetwist and 727,937 others

yourinstagram goodbye love on tour, you will always be famous <3🤍

view all 34,767 comments

harryfan1 THESE PHOTO YN HOW ARE YOU ALIVE

harryfan2 can’t believe harry spotted you in the crowd twice🙄

yourinstagram @/harryfan2 ik it’s almost like he loves me or something?!

harrystyles liked this comment

harryfan3 yn. respectfully. pls stop. i am now in tears.

jeffezoff Post some more!

harryfan4 i remember him wanting to hug you so bad yn omg🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

•••••••••••••••••

“Babe…” Harry laughed at you crying.

“What?” You laughed back through your tears.

Harry moved from the end of the couch he was currently sat on and further over to you. He carefully picked you up and sat you on his lap, tucking the plush blanket back over you both.

You held your phone in your hand, running your finger through the photos from Love On Tour.

The tears stemmed from reminiscing of a tour that ended only five days ago. You couldn’t help yourself though. Love On Tour had brought you some of the happiest years and memories of your life and it was just sad it was now all over.

“C’mon, love. You know I’m going to cry if you keep crying.” Harry’s facial hair tickled your cheek with how close you were sitting.

You made sure Harry could see your phone screen as you continued to scroll.

“I know, but, i’m just emotionally reflecting.”

Harry budged your finger out of the way and paused to stop on a photo. He clicked on it and it immediately made you both laugh.

It was a photo of Harry creeping you behind you and scaring you. Your face is one of pure terror and Harry looks like he’s ready to pounce.

“You were such a twat for that.” You chuckled, tapping the screen and holding to make it a live photo.

Harry could be heard yelling and then you let out an ear piercing scream. So many people turned to look at you, probably because you sounded in pain. Then you collapsed to the floor with your head in your hands.

“It was Harryween though.” Harry justified.

You shook your head and continued to scroll. A few of the photos were ones you had screenshotted off your secret Twitter account. Fans constantly snuck to take photos of you and Harry, some of which actually turned out very cute sometimes.

You clicked on one of you and Harry watching Madi Diaz as the opener for Harry, back on his US leg of the tour.

Harry was stood behind you with his arms draped over your shoulders. Your hands held onto his and you both swayed to the music playing. Harry had his baseball cap on, but it didn’t stop fans noticing him.

“That’s a sweet photo.” Harry said, kissing your cheek.

“Mhm. Thank your fans for that one.”

“I always loved watching the opening acts with you.”

“Yeah? Why?” You turned your head to face his.

Harry couldn’t choose where to look, because of how much he loved everything about you. He watched your eyes follow his as they ran between your freckles and lips to your eyes and dimples.

“You always calmed me. Calmed the nerves, before a show. Was always more at peace after spending a few moments with just you.”

You smiled, not needing to say anything more, before leaning up and kissing his soft lips. He had been waiting for you to do so and cupped your cheek gently to guide you the way he wanted to kiss you.

Your cheeks flushed at how much you enjoyed kissing him, but you had to pull away before anything got too heated. Tonight you just wanted calm.

After getting back to your photos, you and Harry decided it might be fun to feed the fans and just post lots of content from tour - especially backstage.

liked by jeffezoff and 977,877 others

yourinstagram i’ve decided love on tour isn’t over until i stop posting hslot content. so here is a tiny instagram dump of some backstage shenanigans. we have h putting on his rings. a couple photos of me and h (tehe). and a photo of h that he sent me that i thought you might all like. 🫶✨🌙

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harryfan1 NO YOU DIDN’T OMG QUEEN YN

harryfan2 this is why yn is harrys best girlfriend

harrystyles You’re trouble, you.

yourinstagram @/harrystyles why are you using punctuation like that?

harryfan3 i adore their relationship so much omg

harryfan4 the drought is un-droughting thanks to our saviour miss yn

••••••••••

“BABE!” Harry shouted.

“Yes?” You said sheepishly, hiding under the bed sheets as Harry stormed into the room with a smirk on his face.

He shook his head before, rising to stand on the mattress and loom over you.

“You are…”

“Amazing? Perfect? Beautiful?” You filled in the blanks for him, trying to get out of this silly situation.

“Well, obviously.” Harry rolled his eyes and mumbled quietly under his breath. “That photo is trending worldwide.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lifting the sheets higher over your head with a giggle.

In reality you knew exactly what photo he was on about because you had only posted it twenty minutes ago. It was impressive it was already worldwide trending.

A shirtless photo of Harry was just what the world needed during this time of crisis - a.k.a. the post tour blues.

“Oh, no? Really?” He acted along.

“Maybe you could recreate it?”

“Oh, you’d love that wouldn’t you.”

Harry knelt down on the mattress and then proceeded to flop on top of you. You made a noise as he did and laughed as you struggled to regain the breath he had just winded out of you.

“Harrryy..” You laughed in complaint.

“That’s the last time I send you a shirtless picture.”

“No!”

liked by gemmastyles and 797,877 others

yourinstagram here’s another daily hslot dump. unfortunately this one does not contain any shirtless photos of harry :(

view all 29,837 comments

harryfan1 SHES SO REAL

harryfan2 this is everything i want this so bad

annetwist Lovely photos❤️

harris_reed My baby angels

harrystyles I love you🩷

[creation-help]

A special kind of intimacy between characters

[Not restricted to romantic dynamics!]

- I tear bread into smaller pieces to feed them to you, as if I am Jesus, or a mother bird. You may view me as a savior but I would kill for you

- Being there for the other person when they're sick - In a gross, disgusting way. Holding them unwaveringly through the wretched and repulsive, unflinchingly. Don't apologise, just survive. I'd do it again.

- You're scary, but I'm scarier. You don't know that yet, but I hope you won't fear me when you do.

- You're scary, and thank God for that. I'm more than happy to close my eyes when you use it on others. I am a coward.

- One character knowing exactly what the other one would really like to ask for, but is too self conscious or selfless to. Thus, they do it and provide, without the other person needing to outright request it. The self conscious character always makes sure the other one knows it's not obligated and they're always free to decline, and the other one nods firmly, knowing that, and still doing it.

- Sitting next to each other at the end of the world. Because it won't be okay. But they've accepted that

- "You destroyed the thing I love and I can't forgive you for it." "I can't forgive myself either." "I still can't hate you despite that." "I can."

- "Please hate me" "No."

- One character understanding when the other is in too low of a state to act like a decent person currently, and so they don't step over those lines that they'd normally tolerate. The first character holds the other one responsible for things later nonetheless, when they're able to actually carry it

- Two characters sharing the negative perceptions and opinions they've had of each other over the years. This can either lead to a realization that, respectfully, out of deep understanding of each other, they decide to not stay in touch with each other again from now on. Or, it can lead to a realization that thanks to this understanding they now have, they're more ready to become closer and have managed to clear the air with this conversation

- Characters of notably different ages talk and reflect on time that has passed between them. They feel a connection over how different their circumstances were. The younger one audibly wishes they could've done or changed something significant, to which the older character pointedly and gently tells them it wasn't their place to. Let us old crooks handle the tough things. (It wasn't your fault you spent formative years like this. I'm sorry you had to)

[jjkamochoso]

Pt. 2 of Imagine… Soshiro Hoshina Finding You on the Brink of Death

Angst, Fluff

Soshiro Hoshina x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of hospital setting/devices

You can find the all angst ridden part 1 here!

One week.

That was how long it had been since Soshiro had seen your alluring (e/c) eyes, heard your infectious laugh, blushed at your gentlest smile reserved just for him. The past 7 days of you in a coma after almost becoming a kaiju meal had been devastating for him and the rest of your teammates. You had many visitors over the hours you lied completely still on your hospital bed, but you weren’t the only unmoving person in your room. Soshiro had rarely moved an inch from your side, only getting up to go to the bathroom. He couldn’t remove himself from his seat next to your fragile body in case you woke up; he couldn’t bear the thought of you being alone in such a vulnerable state anyway.

“They’re under the best care here, Hoshina. Go get some rest,” Captain Ashiro had told him on day 3, when Soshiro was sporting dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. He respectfully refused, and Mina knew better than to fight with him right now—he was as stubborn as he was talented with his swords. Every time the nurses came in to check your vitals, they looked upon him and his sad state of being with sorrow, feeling awful to see the man in such despair. They had taken it upon themselves to deliver meals for him since they all knew he wasn’t leaving to eat. Even if most of the time the tray sat untouched, they took it as a win when a pudding or fruit cup disappeared.

Day 5 was the hardest for Soshiro. By that point, he was delirious from staying up practically all night in case you needed something. His typed reports stopped making sense, his brain nowhere near as sharp as usual due to the fog of grief that had settled in his mind. The steady beeps of your life support machine haunted his every waking moment, a perfect symphony of the anguish he couldn’t escape. Thankfully, Kafka had heard about his vice captain’s condition and visited that night, offering to take over Soshiro’s watch in case you woke up. Soshiro was extremely reluctant at first, but he knew that you and Hibino were close; he also trusted the kind hearted man enough to know he’d be there for you in case something happened. With strong hesitation, Soshiro left your sight for the first time in 96 hours, heading to the shower. No matter how hard he scrubbed, he couldn’t wash away the feelings of guilt he harbored over your injuries.

If only I was faster, stronger… I could’ve been there sooner. Stopped the kaiju from ever sinking its disgusting teeth into you. What kind of vice captain am I? What kind of… person am I? How could I ever expect them to love me back if I can’t succeed in my one job of protecting them?

He let his tears fall freely, mixing in with the water from the shower head.

Day 7 was the point where Soshiro was just… there. He barely felt anything anymore, whether it was exhaustion, anguish, or anything else. He sat next to you like normal, gazing at your chest as it sank and rose with shallow breaths, but his eyes were glazed over in a manner reminiscent of a man without hope. The doctors didn’t have an estimated time for you to wake up. With injuries as extensive as yours, there was no telling when your body would be ready to start running on its own again. Soshiro didn’t know how to process that news; he liked seeing tangible results, and the fact that you had been hooked up to all these damn machines for so long and nothing had changed? It was pure torture to him. He found himself inching closer to you, if that were even possible, and he took hold of your hand with the softest of touches.

“I miss ya, y/n,” he whispered, bringing your hand to his lips. He was careful to not disrupt the IV as he laid a gentle kiss on your cold skin, savoring the sensation of doing what had wanted to do since he first met you all those years ago.

“Remember the promise we made to each other when we were young and dumb? Now we’re old and dumb,” he chuckled humorlessly, “and you still have to keep up your end of the bargain. You have to survive. I can’t lose you.”

He took in a deep, shaky breath. “I can’t lose you because I’m in love with you.”

It was like the world was playing a cruel joke on him—he finally garnered the courage to admit he had fallen in love, but the object of his affections wasn’t able to hear it. He let his head hang in misery as he kept your hand close to his face, eventually placing it against his cheek. He closed his eyes, wishing with all his might that you would wake up. If you died… he wouldn’t know how to move on from such a devastating blow. He knew this macabre scenario had a high probability of happening in this career field you two chose, but he always had faith in his and your abilities to stay alive. To say that faith had been shaken was the understatement of the century.

“Y/n, please. I can’t do this alone. I need ya back with me. You gotta keep fighting.”

Soshiro went to place your hand back on the bed when he swore he felt your fingers move against his own. His eyes widened in surprise as his heart started slamming against his rib cage. Was that real or just his imagination?

It happened again.

And your eyes opened.

He slammed on the call button, informing the nurses of your awakening before turning his attention back to you.

“So-soshiro,” you tried to say, but your throat couldn’t form any words.

“Shh, don’t say anything, darling, I’m right here. Always have been, always will be.”

A grin swirled with anxiety and relief was present on his lips as he looked at you.

After a few hours of tests, doctors checking up on you, and small moments to collect your thoughts, you were finally able to form coherent sentences.

“You sat here the whole time? Now I feel bad,” you said, a small frown gracing your features.

“Don’t feel bad. I didn’t want you to be alone, that’s all,” Soshiro told you, nervously scratching at the back of his neck. “Did you… happen to hear anything I was saying before you woke up?”

“What, like how we’re old and dumb and that you’re in love with me?” you said, trying your best not to laugh at his shocked expression.

“Huh? You actually did hear me? I thought that only happened in movies!” he whined, his cheeks tinged with red.

“No reason to be embarrassed, Soshiro. I didn’t know how to tell you but I’m in love with you, too. I have been for a very long time.”

Soshiro was looking upon you like you had descended directly from the heavens, his eyes gleaming with unbridled joy as his fingertips danced over your arm, tracing shapes in an intimate, comforting manner.

“I‘ve been so worried about ya, sweetheart, but now that you’re back with me, it’s like I can breathe again.”

You relished in the calm quiet of the room, basking in Soshiro’s loving presence. He was exactly the driving force behind you willing your body to wake up. You could never leave him to walk this world alone.

“I also felt you kissing my hand,” you said after a long bout of silence. “That was very sweet of you.”

“Guess all I had to do was give ya true love’s kiss to wake up?” he joked, his little fangs peeking out of his lazy grin.

“I’m looking forward to my real kiss when I get out of the hospital,” you replied, attempting to wink at him.

He leaned his face over yours, his breath leaving goosebumps in its wake. “If you want, I can give you a preview of it right now.”

You felt your pulse quicken and apparently so did the heart rate monitor you were hooked up to; the machine started beeping, alerting that your numbers were abnormal.

Soshiro kissed your forehead before sitting down again, smirking. “Do I make ya nervous?”

Now it was your turn to blush. “Watch it Hoshina, or I’ll have you admitted into the bed next to me.”

Soshiro burst out in his trademark laugh, grabbing at his stomach and wiping away the tears forming in his eyes. You could be given all the medicine known to man but nothing could make you feel better than the promise of being loved by the easily amused violet haired man who will never leave your side.

[harveysweakness]

a fic about jealous harvey?

..thoughts?

A/N: jealous Harvey has me

Harvey didn’t often feel the need to prove himself. He was a self-assured, confident, successful man. He got what he wanted and his biggest desire was you. You two had known each other for years, only realizing you would be a perfect couple in the last year. And in that time, Harvey had never felt jealous.

Except for now.

You were incredibly respectful of the relationship you had with Harvey. You used to flirt (among other things) with clients in order to get what you needed. Ever since you and Harvey had made things official, you’d stopped doing anything of the sort. But that didn’t stop clients from attempting to make advances on you.

Your boyfriend didn’t often feel concerned about the advances they attempted, because you respectfully always declined their offers for dinner, declined their offering of their arm when walking into the court house, etc. But Harvey couldn’t stop the anger bubbling inside of his chest when he saw Mark Daniels.

Mark Daniels was CEO of Harper National, a newfound AI company that had gained an enormous amount of legal attention in the past few months due to a battle over company rights. He was arrogant, charming, good-looking, and beyond wealthy. He was similar to Harvey, which is why your boyfriend was so angry.

Daniels was constantly trying to beat Harvey, holding your coat open for you when meetings had finished, grabbing you a coffee, tea, or water at the start of depositions, and buying you dinner every time he saw you, even if he had left the building before it was close to dinner time. The man had it delivered to your office, once even as you had sat down in Harvey’s office with the dinner he had bought for you.

The problem seemed to be that Harvey couldn’t just discuss his feelings with you, but instead decided he had to beat Mark at his own game, which meant that you were in the middle of a stupid men’s war.

“And can you be sure that-“ You stopped talking, confused as Harvey entered the conference room.

“I’m heading out, just wanted to quickly say ‘goodbye.”

“Oh, okay, goodbye Harvey,” you replied with a polite smile. It faltered when he moved around the conference table to bend down and press a kiss to your cheek.

“Harvey-“you began, a little shocked at the display of unprofessionalism.

“We’re in the middle of something, here,” Daniels spoke up.

Harvey opened his mouth to speak, but your eyes flashed dangerously at him and he shut his mouth. You watched as he sent a smirk towards Daniels as he walked out. It took everything you had in you not to yell at the two men. Sighing, you refocused on the documents in front of you.

——————

“Hey, sweetheart,” Harvey greeted as you walked into his apartment. He took one look at your face and furrowed his brow. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” You asked, anger growing as you threw your bag into a nearby chair. “How about that display of ridiculous toxic masculinity you decided you needed to show earlier?”

“You mean in the conference room? I was just saying goodby-“

“No, you were trying to prove to the man what you think is yours, which I am not. I am not yours, I am not anybody’s and I know that man gets under your skin but you-“

“Get under my skin- the man tries to shove the fact that he wants you in my face!” Harvey argued, tossing the dish towel angrily onto the counter.

“But I don’t want him!”

“How am I supposed to believe that?”

“Because I am not going to leave, Harvey! Mark Daniels is not in your league! And he is certainly not attractive to me! He is not my boyfriend and I know that you are scared of losing me, scared that what we have will mean nothing, and I know why, but I am not what happened in your past. And I know you love me, even if you haven’t said anything.”

“How can you know that?” Your boyfriend asked, fear quickly flashing in his eyes before he masked it once more.

"Because I know who you are. I just know, Harvey," you deadpanned, your anger softening. "I know that you tell people we met at a bar because you want our meeting place to be intimate to just us. I know that you were sick when we went up north, but I knew you weren't ready to be that type of vulnerable with me that early in our relationship. I know that your favorite show isn't that law one you like, but actually Will and Grace. I know when you ask me to marry you, it will be because you can't hold it in anymore, and I know that on our wedding day you will say something ridiculous that will make me laugh and two seconds later you will say the most romantic thing I've ever heard. I know that you look not only at my ass and boobs, but at my stomach. I see the way your eyes soften, the way you stare, imagining me pregnant with your child. I know you, I know Harvey Specter. And the next time you get jealous, you remember that."

You finished your rant, slightly out of breath, chest heaving. A flurry of emotions crossed Harvey's face. He looked as though he was about to say something, but thought better of it. Instead he quickly crossed the few steps to you, his lips slamming into yours, arms coming around your waist, bringing you into him like his life depended on it.

Your hands moved up to his neck and hair while he picked you up easily. You could tell he was trying to do anything to get closer to you, like nothing would ever be close enough for him.

“You are the most amazing woman I have ever met,” he murmured against your lips.

“I know.”

[my-writings-and-musings]

So Tumblr is barely functional as usual and wouldn't let me edit an ask and deleted it instead : )

Here's a response the dear anon that asked; "Anon here asking (respectfully begging) for more soundwave content. Can We have a continuation of mama reader? I am fully invested.

Bots being parents to tiny babies keeps my world going round so you absolutely can, dear anon. Continuation of this.

The bunker was far enough underground that day and night didn't really matter, but some part of you still new it was late when you were startled awake, your exhausted body gaining a burst of energy when you instinctively recognized what had awoken you.

Soft cries compelled you to move across the bed despite lingering pain, a powerful instinct giving you strength as you looked into the little bassinet that attached to the side of your mattress and found a squirming newborn Cybertronian. Despite being mere hours old, the little one had managed to kick off all his blankets, leaving him quite upset despite having caused the issue for himself. A rounded visor brightened when you came into view, his cries pausing with a hiccup as he recognized you on instinct. Tiny servos lifted to the sky and his needy cries started again. You smiled as you fulfilled his request and pulled him to your chest.

Just as you managed to lay on your side and get somewhat settled, the door to your shared bedroom opened and closed in a flash, a bright red visor stepping through the darkness.

"Is he alright?" Soundwave asked quietly, approaching with careful footsteps. Your son had ceased his squirms and quieted his cries, but his sounds of distress continued, tiny face scrunching unhappily as his sire kneeled on the berth beside you.

"Mhmm, just fussy, but he did kick off all his blankets." you explained, trying not to yawn. Your body was begging for rest, but you couldn't bring yourself to sleep while your little one needed you. Just having his tiny helm snuggled into the crook of your neck made you want to stay up with him forever. "I think he just wants me to hold him for a while."

Soundwave didn't look entirely convinced. Laying his much longer frame down beside you, he replied in a firm but gentle voice. "You need rest."

"I'll be fine." you answered quickly. You knew he was telling the truth, and your body wanted to comply, but you couldn't just let him go. Something deep had awakened within you when the sparkling had been born, and you were still adjusting. Even now, as his little digits grabbed a firm hold on your pajamas and his warm vents ruffled your hair, you knew you'd die for him without hesitation. Soundwave seemed to understand in his own way, but he was no less insistent for your sake.

"Correction; you'll be fine if you rest." he persisted, subtly tucking you in. The gentle touch of his digits did wonders for your lingering anxiety, and though a part of you still wanted to resist, you had no trouble handing over the mostly settled newborn when his sire offered his servos. Handing him over, you only heard a tiny sound of surprise before the sparkling settled once more, cozy as could be in the mech's careful grasp. "I'll figure out what woke him up."

"He's not hungry..." you offered with a yawn, keeping an eye on them both as you laid your head down on a pillow. You'd already started to learn what each particular type of cry was meant to communicate, and the one that had awoken you was more like the fearful wails he'd made upon entering the world, making you wonder what might have frightened him in the safety of his crib. Sleep clouded your brain and prevented the formation of any sensible theories. Thankfully, Soundwave had more energy to focus on the problem, his visor pulsing faintly in thought as he looked over the bundle in his cupped palm.

With his spare servo, he tenderly traced the rounded helm resting against his thumb, contemplating something you couldn't know until he finally spoke up. "Sensitive audials..." he noted at last, digits lingering as he took a second to observe and ponder the feature he'd given his son. Realizing he'd drifted off, the mech moved a bit more swiftly upon catching himself, looking to the ceiling so his expression couldn't betray him. "The ventilation system is quite loud upon activation. It must have startled him. Solution; resonance dampeners."

"That sounds like a good idea. We can get the nursery soundproofed before he moves in..." you said with a nod, already drifting off. Thoughts blurred as sleep came for you at last, your body dimly aware of the blankets being adjusted once more before warm digits stroked your cheek. You had just enough strength to open your eyes and meet Soundwave's scarlet visor.

"I can handle that, and this." he said in a final, tender insistence. Knowing that everything would be taken care of made it much easier to drift off. The last thing you saw before closing your eyes was the form of your son snoozing soundly in his sire's palm, a loving voice rumbling in your ears as you complied and prepared to dream of all that might be ahead. "Sleep, please. For both of us."

[regulusrules]

FIC RECS: Tore apart my sanity edition

Missed doing those, especially that the brilliance of this fandom is quite endless. You'd think you've read everything, then a fic comes and makes you stare two ceilings above. I think we all have PhDs in ceiling reading at this point.

1. through storm and hellfire by @prattery.

Look, I know I scream a lot about fics, but this time it's so rightfully, I swear. There is something about this one that just unravels you so fully, so reverently. It was a spiritual experience; reading this fic. Anything written by this author is a spiritual experience. If you're new to my blog, you will soon know that I fall apart for such beautiful prose so easily. And the way Arthur was written here.. holy lord in the sky. I haven't survived this fic as of yet (weeks later). It was not Merlin who got kidnapped here; it's our literal hearts.

2. you hold a knife at my throat (i tell you exactly where to cut) by @nextstopparis.

All I can say is that I found this one on the night of my final MA exam and risked failing because I stayed up till dawn reading it. And guess what? I'd do it a hundred times over. Because this fic killed me 🤩 With a knife knowing exactly where to cut 🤩

Whenever it's Protective!Arthur that is as much consumed by Merlin's safety as Merlin was with his, then know I am absolutely and utterly gone. And everything that comes with Arthur teaching Merlin how to wield weapons and its close proximity trope. Oh boy. I was literally killed, I'm telling you.

3. Of Course Falling in Love is Awful. Why Else Would They Call It a Crush? by watchriverdale.

Respectfully, how does this marvel of a fic have less than a thousand reads?? If I may, it's one of the best AU - Canon Divergence that I've read in so long! Merlin being an actual physician, Arthur making silly excuses to go visit Merlin and it ending up for him falling head over heels, BAMF elements of both, just everything! Absolutely AMAZING. And the full circle at the end; what an icon.

4. The Walls of Camelot by spqr. (@andthepeople)

I'm literally not joking when I say my brain function grew and developed more after reading this fic. It was so fully-fledged in a way you don't find in literal published books. The amount of creativity and research combined in this fic.. WOW! You just literally live the war with them, all emotions entangled, all thoughts experienced. I think I had the hardest time processing that the fic ended more than anything else because of how invested I was in the story. I didn't want it to end. It was a wonderful, wonderful ride.

5. I suppose that I look different (without the robes and crown) by WingedWolf121. (@lancelotofthelake)

You know when fic writers begin to narrate Arthur through Merlin's eyes and describe him as golden? That is what I would say as the overall feel of this fic. I felt it radiating gold and beauty. It was unmatched, truly. From the AU idea to its execution.. I was hooked all 18K. I'd give it 18K kudos of my own alone. And the way it was written !!! Please. Any Arthur who just loves Merlin a tad too much is unparalleled. And when the same energy is returned by Merlin >>>

Oh and lastly: “Ask me who you were there to me, Merlin.” I'll leave you at that.

+ 1: My heart is readily yours by yours truly.

Have I mentioned how much this one tore my own sanity apart while writing it? (yes. yes I already have like a thousand times, tell me to shut up about it already). But it's for good reason. I am a changed human being after this fic. For better or for worse, I'm still not sure about that.

[sluttyminghao]

thoughts on having a threesome with seungkwan/chan? I think it’d be so hot with them egging each other on 🥵 (also as a seungkwan girlie I am starving for smutty content I feel like he’s so underrated 😭)

honestly, this is a criminally underrated duo that needs more recognition.

i think chan would be the one who does most of the egging tbh, he knows exactly what to do and say to get both you and seungkwan going, and honestly? neither of you are mad about it. he's also always got this cocky smirk on his lips too.

i think there would be a Lot of teasing and edging too, especially from seungkwan. he would bicker constantly with chan, and I think it would cause a build up of anger which is then in turn taken out on you and your body (not mad about it tho)

in their own aspects, i think chan would be the more dominating one, but would also draw back respectfully to let seungkwan have a turn with you as well. he'd spend a lot of time teasing you, flicking your nipples, leaving pink and red blooming marks on your skin., etc.

seungkwan on the other hand, would be much gentler but hold a sense of possessiveness about him. he doesn't go as far with the teasing as chan does, but he would definitely be giving chan the side eye if he got too close.

in short, it would be filled with lust and passion, and fueled by rage and jealousy

[muiitoloko]

Needs

Summary: You are there to meet all of his needs.

Pairing: Karl Hoffmeister × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut.

Author's Notes: Well, folks, brace yourselves for another rollercoaster ride of a story! I gotta admit, this one had me wrestling with writer's block like nobody's business. Every word felt like it was mocking me from the page! But then, lo and behold, I stumbled upon some Karl gifs on Tumblr and bam! Inspiration struck like lightning! 🌩️ Had to spill some ink on Karl, no question about it. Here's hoping I did justice to the enigma that is Karl in this one-shot! Oh, and can we talk about Charlotte? Let's just say, I'm not exactly her biggest fan... Am I alone in this? 🤔

Also read on Ao3

As Karl stood by the window, his gaze fixed on you, the maid, playing with Otto in the garden, a myriad of conflicting emotions swirled within him. It had been two weeks since Charlotte had left with Friedrich, leaving Karl and Otto behind. Two weeks since Karl had managed to recover from his illness, but the ache of missing his wife lingered like a ghost haunting the halls of his home.

As he watched you, a simple maid with a beauty that had gone unnoticed until now, Karl couldn't help but feel a pang of longing deep within his chest. He missed the warmth of a woman, especially when he lay alone in his bed at night, the cold sheets a constant reminder of his loneliness.

Over time, Karl began to notice things about you that he hadn't paid attention to before. He saw your beauty, simple yet captivating, like someone from his own class. He observed the dedication with which you carried out your duties, the tender care you showed towards Otto, his beloved son.

And then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, Karl's gaze fell upon the neckline of your dress, the delicate curve of your breasts teasingly visible beneath the fabric. His breath caught in his throat at the sight, his pulse quickening with desire as he imagined what it would be like to hold them, to suckle at them with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

Karl closed his eyes, cursing himself as he leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window. He missed the warmth of a woman, the softness of her skin against his, and there you were, a woman so close and yet so far away.

He wondered if you were still a virgin, if you had ever felt the heat of a man's touch. But it didn't matter, did it? Because Karl would be better than any man you had ever known, much better. He would treat you with the respect and adoration you deserved, fulfilling every desire and whim with a passion that knew no bounds.

But then, with a shake of his head, Karl opened his eyes, the realization of what he was thinking hitting him like a ton of bricks. What the hell was he doing? He was a married man, a father, and you were just a maid, beneath him in every sense of the word.

With a sense of self-disgust, Karl moved away from the window and strode purposefully towards the door, determined to put an end to these foolish thoughts once and for all. He swung the door open, interrupting your play with Otto as he ushered you both inside.

"Enough playing for now, Otto," Karl said, his voice firm as he directed his son towards the bathroom. "It's time to wash up and get ready for dinner."

Otto visibly wilted at the dismissal, his shoulders slumping as he reluctantly obeyed his father's command. You, on the other hand, bowed respectfully, apologizing for the interruption and offering to help with dinner preparations.

But Karl ignored your offer, his gaze distant as he instructed Otto to hurry along. "We will have dinner promptly at seven," he said, his tone clipped. "Make sure everything is ready by then."

You nodded obediently, bowing once again before turning to leave the room. As you passed Karl, he couldn't help but notice the way your dress clung to your curves, the sway of your hips as you walked away sending a shiver of desire down his spine.

But Karl quickly pushed aside his wayward thoughts, his sense of propriety kicking in as he returned to his office at home. Taking a tissue from his pocket, he pressed it against his mouth while coughing, the sound muffled against the fabric as he tried to quell the persistent ache in his chest.

"Damn foolish thoughts," Karl muttered to himself, his voice tinged with self-loathing as he leaned back in his chair, his mind racing with thoughts of you. "I must focus on my work, on providing for my family. That is all that matters."

But even as he tried to push you out of his mind, Karl couldn't shake the feeling of longing that lingered like a shadow in the depths of his soul. And as he sat there, alone in his office, the sound of your laughter echoing in his ears, he couldn't help but wonder what might have been if things had been different.

As Karl sank into the warm water of the bathtub, he closed his eyes, trying to push aside the intrusive thoughts that plagued his mind. The sound of the water lapping gently against the sides of the tub provided a soothing backdrop, but even the comforting embrace of the warm water couldn't chase away the persistent ache of longing that gnawed at his chest.

You, the maid, moved quietly around the bathroom, preparing to assist Karl with his bath as you had done countless times before. But today was different. Today, Karl couldn't help but notice the way your gentle hands moved with practiced ease, the way your touch sent shivers of desire coursing through his veins.

As you approached the tub, Karl tried to suppress the rising tide of arousal that threatened to consume him. He had never given your presence a second thought before, but now, he couldn't even relax in your presence without feeling the stirrings of desire.

Desperate for some relief from his torment, Karl toyed with the idea of visiting some prostitutes, hoping that the physical release would help to banish the thoughts of you from his mind. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he couldn't bring himself to act on it, the image of your face haunting him like a specter in the darkness.

You began to wash Karl's back, your touch gentle and soothing against his skin. But as your hands moved lower, tracing the curve of his spine with feather-light touches, Karl couldn't help but tense up, the warmth of your touch sending shockwaves of desire coursing through his veins.

He tried to ignore the sensation, to focus on anything other than the way your touch made him feel. But when you passed into his arms, your body pressed tantalizingly close to his, Karl couldn't help but look at you, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment too long before he quickly averted his eyes, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You noticed his gaze and gave him a small smile, your eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "Are you feeling better, Herr Hoffmeister?" you asked respectfully, your voice soft and gentle as you continued to bathe him.

Karl nodded, his voice hoarse with emotion as he admitted, "Yes, I am feeling much better, thank you. Still coughing a lot, but not as bad as before."

You smiled again, genuine happiness shining in your eyes as you said, "I'm glad to hear that, Herr Hoffmeister. You had us all worried there for a while."

The two of you fell silent once again, the only sound in the room the gentle splashing of water as you continued to bathe Karl. And as he lay there, enveloped in the warmth of the water and the comfort of your presence, Karl couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to reach out and take you in his arms, to hold you close and never let go. But he quickly pushed aside those thoughts, burying them deep within his heart as he focused on the task at hand, determined to put an end to these foolish fantasies once and for all.

As the silence stretched between you and Karl, he finally broke it with a question, his voice cutting through the quietude of the bathroom. "How long have you been serving me, uh... what was your name again?" he asked, his tone slightly hesitant as he tried to recall your name.

You smiled softly, accustomed to his occasional forgetfulness. "It's [Your Name], Herr Hoffmeister," you replied respectfully, your voice gentle as you continued to bathe him. "And I've been serving you for ten years now, since I was eighteen."

Karl's eyebrows shot up in surprise at your response. "Ten years?" he repeated, genuine curiosity shining in his gray eyes. "That's quite a long time. I must admit, I hadn't realized it had been so long."

You nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips as you continued to wash his back. "Yes, time flies, doesn't it?" you remarked, your voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness. "It feels like just yesterday that I first started working here."

Karl fell silent for a moment, lost in thought as he processed your words. Then, with a curious glint in his eyes, he asked, "Do you have a husband? Or perhaps a fiancé? Children, maybe?"

You shook your head, a faint blush coloring your cheeks at the mention of marriage and children. "No, Herr Hoffmeister," you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've never had many expectations about marriage or children. My life has always been here, serving you and taking care of Otto."

Karl's curiosity seemed to be piqued by your response, his gaze lingering on your face as he asked, "Do you have any family, then? Siblings, perhaps? Do your parents live nearby?"

You smiled, though there was a hint of sadness in your eyes as you spoke. "I don't know, Herr Hoffmeister," you admitted, your voice tinged with regret. "I was orphaned at a young age, raised by the nuns at the orphanage."

Karl's eyes widened in surprise at your revelation, his expression one of genuine sympathy as he processed the information. "You're an orphan?" he asked softly, his voice filled with compassion. "Do you... do you know who your parents are?"

You nod solemnly in response to Karl's question, the memories of your past flooding back with painful clarity. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you reply quietly, your voice tinged with sadness. "My mother was a prostitute, and my father... well, from what the nuns told me, he was a judge from England named Turpin."

Karl's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your revelation, his expression one of genuine curiosity as he processes the information. "Turpin?" he repeats, his voice tinged with disbelief. "The judge from England? How did...?"

You nod, cutting him off before he can finish his question. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you confirm, your voice barely above a whisper. "He was traveling through Germany and ended up getting my mother pregnant. But he made it clear to her that he didn't want me, and he returned to England, leaving my mother alone to raise me."

A pang of sadness comes over you as you imagine the struggles your mother faced, the possible loneliness and hardships she must have endured. Only she could not escape the cruel hand that fate imposed on her and ended up dying in childbirth, leaving you alone and an orphan.

Karl's expression softens with sympathy as he listens to your story, his gray eyes filled with compassion. "I'm so sorry, [Your Name]," he murmurs, his voice gentle but filled with genuine regret. "That must have been incredibly difficult for you."

You offer him a small smile, though there is a hint of sadness in your eyes as you continue to speak. "It was," you admit quietly. "But I was fortunate enough to be taken in by the nuns at the orphanage, where I was raised until I turned eighteen."

His curiosity got the best of him, and he asked, "Have you ever tried to contact your father?"

You nodded quietly, a hint of sadness flickering across your features as you recalled the memories of your youth. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you replied softly. "When I was young, I sent a letter to him, hoping to establish some connection. But I heard nothing back. Later, I learned that he had married a peasant girl and started a family of his own."

Karl's expression darkened at the mention of your father's lack of response, a flicker of anger flashing in his gray eyes. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "It must have been difficult for you, reaching out only to be met with silence."

You nodded, a wistful smile playing at the corners of your lips. "It was, Herr Hoffmeister," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I let it go. I lived in the orphanage until I turned eighteen, and then I came here, looking for a job. The old butler spoke to you on my behalf, and you graciously allowed me to become one of the housemaids."

Karl listened intently to your words, his gaze drifting away for a moment as he processed the information. But when he turned back to you, there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes as he asked, "And you've been serving me ever since?"

You nodded, a sense of pride evident in your voice as you replied, "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister. It has been an honor to serve you and to take care of all your needs."

Karl looked away, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions as he questioned whether your loyalty was truly genuine. "But would you be willing to take care of me, of all my needs?" he asked hesitantly, his baritone voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

You frowned slightly at his question, unsure of what he was getting at. "Yes, of course, Herr Hoffmeister," you replied earnestly, your voice filled with determination. "I am here to serve you in any way that I can."

Karl's gaze softened at your response, and he reached out to take your hand in his, pressing it gently against his chest as he searched your eyes for reassurance. "All my needs?" he pressed, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blushed at the implication of his words, understanding what he was asking. Unable to meet his gaze, you looked away briefly before meeting his eyes once again, your cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "Yes, all your needs," you affirmed, your voice steady despite the embarrassment that coursed through your veins.

Karl's expression softens further, his gray eyes filled with a mixture of longing and vulnerability as he pulls you closer by the wrist he's holding. His touch is surprisingly gentle as he brings his other hand to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek.

His voice falls into a low, husky cadence as he asks you to answer to his need now. "Do you mean that, [Your Name]?" Karl's voice is barely above a whisper, filled with a desperate hopefulness.

You meet his gaze, your heart racing with a mixture of fear and excitement. His vulnerability surprises you, but there's something in his eyes that draws you closer, despite the implications of his request. "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister," you reply softly, your voice trembling slightly. "I am here to serve you."

Karl's grip tightens slightly on your chin, his gaze intense as he leans closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. "Then kiss me," he murmurs, his voice a mere whisper against your lips.

You hesitate for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you meet his gaze. But then, with a newfound resolve, you lean forward, closing the distance between you as you press your lips against his.

At first, the kiss is tentative, hesitant, as if both of you are unsure of what to expect. But then, as the seconds pass, the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more passionate. Karl's hand moves from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss even further.

The warmth of his lips against yours sends a shiver of desire coursing through your veins, igniting a fire deep within your soul. You respond eagerly, your hands moving to tangle in his gray hair as you lose yourself in the intensity of the moment.

For a brief, fleeting moment, nothing else exists except the two of you, lost in each other's embrace. And as you pull away, breathless and flushed with desire, you realize that nothing will ever be the same again.

Karl's gray eyes are dark with longing as he admits in a husky voice, "I want to take you to my bed today, [Your Name]."

Your heart races at his words, your cheeks flushing with excitement as you nod eagerly, your desire mirroring his own. Karl's touch is surprisingly gentle as he caresses your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek as he studies your expression.

In a moment of vulnerability, Karl's gaze drifts to your lips before he gathers his courage to ask, "Are you... a virgin, [Your Name]?" His voice is soft, tinged with a hint of uncertainty as he waits for your response.

You blush at the question, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and excitement as you shake your head. "No, Herr Hoffmeister," you admit quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I'm sorry."

But Karl's response surprises you. Instead of expressing disappointment or disapproval, he simply smiles and says, "It's alright, [Your Name]. I don't mind." His words are filled with understanding and acceptance, easing the tension that had been building inside you.

Then, with a note of anticipation in his voice, Karl questions, "Do you... want this? Want to go to bed with me, [Your Name]?" His eyes search yours, longing to hear your answer, to know that you desire him as much as he desires you.

You meet his gaze with unwavering determination, the fire of desire burning brightly in your eyes as you confess, "Yes, Herr Hoffmeister. For a long time, I've thought about it, imagined what it would be like to be taken care of by you, just as you took care of Mrs. Hoffmeister."

Karl's heart swells with a mixture of desire and affection at your words, his hands trembling slightly as he lets go of your face and rises from the bathtub. Moving away from you, he looks momentarily irritated as he says, "Don't mention her, Fräulein. I don't want to think about the fact that she left me for another man."

You nod apologetically, understanding the pain that Karl must be feeling at the mention of his estranged wife. As Karl dries himself off with a towel, he orders you to follow him, and you do so obediently as he leaves the bathroom and heads towards the bedroom.

The anticipation hangs thick in the air as you enter the bedroom together, the tension between you palpable as you both prepare to take the next step in your relationship. His gaze lingers on your simple maid's dress, the fabric clinging to your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that sends a shiver of desire down his spine. He can feel his pulse quicken with each passing moment, his arousal evident as he takes in the sight of you standing before him.

With a husky voice, Karl murmurs, "Fräulein, come closer." His words are a command, filled with a raw intensity that leaves no room for hesitation. You obey without question, stepping closer to him until you're standing just inches apart, the heat of his body radiating against your skin.

Karl's hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. His lips are demanding, hungry, as he claims you with a passion that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

And as Karl's lips claim yours in a passionate kiss, you feel the unmistakable prickle of his mustache against your skin, sending a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins. You relish the sensation, savoring the feeling of his rough facial hair against your soft lips, a tantalizing reminder of his masculinity.

But as the kiss deepens, you break away, holding his shoulders firmly as you gaze into his gray eyes with unwavering determination. His naked form stands before you, still slightly damp from the bath you had given him earlier, his baritone voice filled with desire as he watches you intently.

With deliberate movements, you caress his shoulders, feeling the tension melt away beneath your touch. Your hands glide down to his chest, tracing the contours of his muscular frame before slowly falling to your knees in front of him, maintaining eye contact as you do so.

Karl's breath catches in his throat as he watches you, anticipation evident in his gaze as he waits for you to take the next step. His half-hard cock twitches with desire, but you deliberately ignore it for now, focusing instead on pleasing him in other ways.

As you settle at his feet, your hands trail up his thighs, the fabric of your simple maid's dress brushing against his skin. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, his arousal evident as you continue to tease him with your touch.

With a coy smile, you look up at him, your eyes shining with mischief as you ask in a husky voice, "Herr Hoffmeister, may I take care of your needs?" Your words are filled with promise, a hint of anticipation laced with desire as you await his response.

Karl's breath hitches at your question, his gray eyes dark with desire as he nods eagerly, his voice thick with arousal. "Yes, Fräulein," he murmurs, his voice husky with need. "Please, take care of me."

With a wicked grin, you lean forward, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh as you trail kisses along his flesh. You can feel his pulse quicken beneath your touch, his breath coming in shallow gasps as you tease him mercilessly.

But you're not done yet. With a slow, deliberate motion, you run your hands up his thighs, bypassing his aching cock as you reach for his hips. Karl's groan of frustration only spurs you on, your lips curling into a wicked smile as you revel in the power you hold over him.

With practiced ease, you massage his hips, your fingers digging into his flesh as you work to relieve the tension that has built up within him. Karl's grip tightens on your shoulders, his baritone voice filled with desperation as he pleads with you to give him what he craves.

The hunger in Karl's gray eyes grows more intense, his baritone voice thick with desire as he watches you with unabashed longing. The sight of you, dressed in your simple maid's attire, on your knees before him ignites a fire within him, driving him to the brink of madness with need.

But even in this vulnerable position, it's clear to karl that you hold all the power. Your wicked grin, your teasing touch, they all serve to remind him that it's you who dictates the pace, you who decides how far this will go.

And yet, Karl can't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of surrendering control to you. With a low growl of desire, he reaches down to grasp your chin, his thumb brushing lightly against your lips as he murmurs in a husky voice, "You have me completely at your mercy, Fräulein. But I warn you, I'm not easily tamed."

Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you meet his gaze, your lips curling into a wicked smile as you reply, "Oh, I'm well aware of that, Herr Hoffmeister. But don't worry, I like a challenge."

With that, you lean forward, your lips trailing a path of fire along his inner thigh as you inch closer and closer to your ultimate goal. Karl's pulse quickens with each teasing touch, his heart racing with anticipation as he feels your lips inch closer to his aching cock.

And then, finally, your lips closed around him, your mouth hot and wet as you took him deep within your throat. Karl's head fell back in ecstasy, his gray eyes fluttering shut as he surrendered himself to the pleasure of your touch.

With each expert flick of your tongue, each gentle suckle of your lips, Karl felt himself spiraling further and further into a blissful haze of desire. Your mouth was pure heaven, a sinful delight that threatened to consume him whole as you worked your magic on him.

But Karl wasn't content to simply be a passive participant in this dance of pleasure. With a low growl of desire, he reached down to grasp your hair, guiding you with gentle but firm pressure as he set the rhythm of your movements.

The feeling of your lips wrapped around him, your tongue swirling and dancing with wicked intent, was enough to drive Karl to the edge of sanity. His breath came in ragged gasps, his chest heaving with the effort to contain the overwhelming tide of pleasure that threatened to consume him.

As he felt himself nearing the brink of ecstasy, he abruptly pulled away, leaving you gasping for more as he instructed you to disrobe and recline upon the bed. Eager to feel him within you, you wasted no time in complying with his command, swiftly removing your garments and lying back upon the bed, your body pulsating with anticipation.

Karl watched intently as you shed each piece of clothing, his gray eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of your naked form. He admired the way your curves beckoned to him, the softness of your skin inviting him to explore every inch of your body.

Once you were fully undressed and lying on the bed, Karl moved closer, his hands trembling with need as he reached down to caress his own throbbing cock. His baritone voice was thick with desire as he spoke, his words sending a shiver of excitement down your spine.

"Now, meine liebe, I want to feel you around me," Karl murmured, his voice husky with lust as he positioned himself between your legs. "But first, I need to prepare you for me."

With a wicked grin, Karl leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips before trailing kisses down your neck and chest, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. As he reached your breasts, he took each nipple into his mouth in turn, sucking and nibbling on them with fervent desire.

Your breath hitched at the sensation, your fingers tangling in his gray hair as you arched your back in pleasure. Karl's mustache tickled your skin, adding to the intensity of the sensation as he lavished attention on your sensitive peaks.

But Karl wasn't content to stop there. With a devilish gleam in his eyes, he continued his journey southward, trailing kisses along your stomach and thighs until he reached the apex of your desire. His tongue flicked out to taste your wetness, and you moaned in ecstasy as he teased you with his expert ministrations.

"Oh, Herr Hoffmeister," you gasped, your voice thick with desire as he worshipped you with his mouth. "Please, I need you inside me."

Karl removes his mouth from your pussy, and a soft whimper escapes your lips, craving more of his touch. He doesn't disappoint, his thick fingers soon replacing his tongue as he stretches you open, preparing you for what's to come. With practiced ease, he slides two fingers inside you, his touch sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Karl," you moan softly, obeying his command to call him by his first name. The sound of his name on your lips is like music to his ears, fueling his desire even further. But he reminds you to keep your voice down, not wanting to wake his son with your passionate cries.

You nod eagerly, squirming on the bed as Karl's fingers explore every inch of you, driving you wild with need. His baritone voice washes over you like a wave of heat as he murmurs, "That's it, meine liebe. Moan my name for me, but remember, quietly."

With each thrust of his fingers, you can't help but moan, the pleasure building to an unbearable intensity. "Karl," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper as you ride his fingers, craving more of him with each passing moment.

Karl's gray hair brushes against your skin as he leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, his mustache tickling your skin as his tongue dances with yours. The sensation sends a jolt of desire straight to your core, driving you closer to the edge of ecstasy with each passing second.

As the heat between you reaches its peak, Karl finally withdraws his fingers, his gaze filled with hunger as he positions himself between your legs. With a wicked grin, he whispers, "Are you ready for me, meine liebe? Ready to take all of me?"

You nod eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation as Karl enters you with a single, powerful thrust. The feeling of him filling you completely is overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you in a dizzying whirlwind.

"Karl," you cry out, unable to contain your passion as he moves inside you, each thrust driving you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. But you remember his warning and keep your voice low, your moans muffled against his shoulder as you surrender yourself to the pleasure of his touch.

With each thrust, Karl's baritone voice fills the room, urging you on with whispered words of encouragement. "That's it, meine liebe," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "Take all of me. Feel me deep inside you."

You cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his back as you ride the wave of pleasure together. And as you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy, you cry out his name one last time, your voice filled with pure bliss as you finally succumb to the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you both.

As Karl continues thrusting, chasing his own climax, you writhe beneath him, your body aching with pleasure as you cling to him desperately. His baritone voice fills the room with a chorus of moans and groans, the sound of his pleasure mingling with your own as you reach the pinnacle of ecstasy together.

With a hoarse moan, Karl finally pulls out, his seed spilling onto your belly in a hot, sticky mess. For a moment, he stays on top of you, his body trapping you against the mattress as he revels in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. Then, with a contented sigh, he rolls off of you and lies next to you with a satisfied smile on his lips.

You lie side by side, panting and spent, your bodies still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure. But despite the exhaustion that threatens to consume you, you can't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you as you bask in the warmth of Karl's embrace.

Feeling a surge of affection, you crawl towards him, pressing your naked body against his as you lay your head on his chest. Karl's arms wrap around you instinctively, pulling you close as he presses a tender kiss to your head.

With a contented sigh, you ask in a soft voice, "Did I manage to meet your needs, Karl?"

Karl's gray eyes sparkle with affection as he gazes down at you, a fond smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, meine liebe," he murmurs, his voice filled with warmth. "You exceeded my every expectation."

Feeling emboldened by his words, you trail a hand down his chest, teasing him with feather-light touches as you whisper in his ear, "Is there anything else you desire, Karl? Anything at all?"

Karl's breath hitches at your touch, his pulse quickening with desire as he meets your gaze with unwavering intensity. "Oh, Fräulein," he murmurs, his voice thick with longing. "I desire nothing more than to lose myself in you, body and soul."

With that, he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his hunger evident as he claims you with a passion that leaves you breathless and wanting more. And as you surrender yourself to the pleasure of his touch once again, you realize that this is only the beginning of your journey together.

Translation:

"meine liebe" - my love

"Herr Hoffmeister" - Mr. Hoffmeister

"Fräulein" - Miss (or young woman, typically used to address an unmarried woman)

[demiesworld]

Hi. Firstly love your writing. Secondly (only if you want to write it of course if not I thank you for taking time out to read this) may I request Hantengu clones reacting to their first kiss with S/o?

【♛demie: yes you may and i do apologize for taking so long to get to this request! i hope you enjoy it!】

first kiss with the hantengu clones (sfw)

pairings: sekido, karaku, aizetsu, and urogi x gn!reader

synopsis: hantengu clones sharing their first kiss with their s/o.

notes: reader is gender-neutral. no pronouns are used. reader is of age. in sekido's the reader thinks that he is a monk and sekido gives them a prayer. it wasn't my initial idea to go for it, but it fit in with the plot so i kept it. if i was incorrect with some things or offended anyone please let me know, respectfully, and i will remove it. otherwise, enjoy this! p.s. sekido's is also pure word vomit bc i wasnt thinking of sticking to a decent size script.

— SEKIDO

When Sekido first met you, a human, his first thought of you was that you were weak. You were weaker than him, a demon, because of your mortality. In his mind, humans were susceptible to illnesses and diseases that weren't easy to cure with herbs and medicine. So when he encountered you in the cold hours of the night inside of your hut, after slaughtering and cannibalizing half of your village, his original plan was to just eat you alive.

But when he saw you, something in Sekido couldn't bear to even touch you let alone eat you.

You were laying on your back on a shiki futon next to a burning fire pit and covered by a thick blanket. He could hear your labored breathing and pained grunting at each breath you took. It didn't take a genius to notice that you were sickly. The beads of sweat on your forehead and dazed look in your eyes was a tell-tell sign that you weren't in good health. To him you looked too pathetic to kill.

He was standing in the door way and then turned his back to you. He got ready to leave when your croaky voice spoke, "A-Are y-you a m-monk?" His shoulders went tense as he stood there listening to you, "P-Please m-monk... I'm a-afraid that I don't have... much time."

Sekido huffed in annoyance, but he turned on his heel and further walked into the hut. He stood in the shadows to keep his appearance hidden, not that you – a weak human – could do anything to him. You were most likely on the brink of death.

"Thank you... I-I want to a-ask if you c-c-could pr-pray for me. My health has not been well as of lately, and my family do not live here with me in this village. I've just been taking care of myself, but as you can see I'm not doing a very good job." You let out a soft chuckle though it turns into a coughing fit and eventually subsides, "I will be honest with you monk, I am not a religious person, but if a simple prayer from you would alleviate me of this sickness then I will turn over a new leaf and b-be forever g-grateful..."

The anger demon gripped tighter on his staff as he placed a knee on the floor. Why was he entertaining you? Why was he still here? He should have left you for dead, but his body is refusing to leave. Sekido sits fully on the floor now, crossing his legs and holding the shakujō to his shoulder.

"What is your name?" He asked you. Your heart swelled up with gratitude and you smile affably to the person you thought was a monk. Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes when you state your name to him. "That is a beautiful name. I will give you a prayer now, let us close our eyes and start."

Sekido waited for you to shut your eyes first, before he began the prayer that you requested. The prayer was solely for you and he prayed to relieve you of your sickness. He prayed for you to be healed, your suffering to be freed, and for protection to be bestowed upon you. When he was finished with the prayer, he stood up from the floor and just looked at you blankly.

The anger demon didn't know exactly how to feel when he left you in the hut that night and returned to his counterparts. They asked him where he went to which he ignored the three and trekked in the direction of their next mission destination.

After his mission was complete, Sekido returned to you a night later and found that you were still sick. Your condition did not improve. He had asked you if had eaten and your response was you tried but you kept vomiting. He was a demon, and he didn't know of any herbs or medicine that could cure whatever you had. He stayed with you and gave you prayers to help ease your mind at the least. Sekido would show up to your hut every night at an odd hour to sit with you, offering you his company, and give you a prayer.

One night, Sekido made a decision that could possibly affect him for better or for worse. After consideration, Sekido poked a needle into the tip of his finger and held the bleeding digit to your chapped lips. He let the blood drop several times onto your tongue before pulling it away and regenerating the skin there.

That night Sekido sat with you for a while waiting for any signs of improvement after he gave you a taste of his blood. You didn't show anything, so he figured that you must have passed away. He got aggravated. It was a waste of his time to be stuck here thinking that you – a human – would be alive.

He left your hut that night with the firm belief that you had died. What a pity. What a waste of a time. It clearly showed him that humans, especially a person such as yourself, shouldn't be bothered with trying to strengthen. He couldn't say the word "help" because to him that meant he was performing an act of kindness. Something that he, a demon who felt solely anger, couldn't be synonymous with.

As he went on about his own life, Sekido would ignore the pangs he felt in his chest whenever thoughts of you crossed his mind. He would make battles between him and his counterparts against demon slayers short because he wanted to return to their safe house quickly. Every time he came across a human that he wanted to feast on, that was weak like you, he couldn't consume them. He would just kill them and leave their mutilated body behind.

His counterparts appeared to have notice his slight change in demeanor. Though neither of them made a comment on it. They didn't want to address it for fear of Sekido's rage.

It was maybe a month after declaring you as dead, when Sekido felt a strong pulse out of nowhere surface. He had been resting at their manor when he felt it arise. The demon thought danger was coming and he quickly grabbed his staff and ran out into the rainy thunderous night.

The strong pulse came again and this time it was getting closer. Good. The closer it got the easier it would be for him to kill it. He chases the origin of the pulse to a clearing in the forest. As he neared the center he stopped in his tracks and searched his surroundings for any incoming attacks.

Just as he was about the lure the attacker out with his lightning, Sekido heard a faint shout, "Monk!" and it eerily sounded like you. "Mooonk!" the voice gotten clearer, and louder, you were getting closer.

Sekido turned on his heel to his right to see you running into the clearing. Your clothing was drenched from the pounding rain just like his own, but to his astonishment you were alive. You were on your feet. You were breathing. You were speaking. You... survived.

"Y/N..." he murmurs your name as you slow down to stand right before him. There was no shadows or obscurity covering his face. You could see Sekido for what he truly was. A demon. A human-eating, murdering, demon.

You threw your body onto his as you embraced him in your arms. Why were you hugging him? Shouldn't you be repulsed by the sight of his face? Why weren't you running away from him? Your arms squeezed him tighter and your face buried into his chest.

Sekido's hand comes up to your head and cradles it gently in his grasp. He stands there, still like a statue, as he listens to you speak, "I never got to say thank you for saving my life monk. Without your prayers, I don't think I will be alive right now. I owe you my eternal gratitude and I wish to serve you."

The anger demon looks down at the top of your head and blurts out, "Why are you not running from me?"

You ignore his question and look up at his face. Your lips curve into a radiant smile, "I never saw your face before, monk, you are quite ruggedly handsome." You say as you take a hold of his hand and bow your head. "Please take me to where you rest your head and we shall both explain things to each other."

Sekido growls and squeezes your hand in his own, he scorns at your wince, "Answer my question first."

"I don't want to run away from the person who gave me a second chance at life. Not when I owe them my life in return."

"Are you stupid? Are you blind? Do you not see how I look, human?" He interrogates you, before bellowing, "I am a demon!"

"And I don't care!" You shout back, your lips trembling as you refrain yourself from crying. "I don't." You whisper.

After a brief moment of silence between the two of you, Sekido unwillingly led you to his manor where you two talked over what happened. You explained that after Sekido had given you his blood, you woke up the next morning feeling stronger than before. Your fever and chills went away, you could actually move on your feet, and the bruises you had from being bedridden were gone. You told him that you had tried to walk out into the daylight, but your new body couldn't stand the sunlight so you were left to do things out at night.

Unlike him, you didn't get cravings for humans, you still ate human food. Sekido went on to tell you that he wasn't a real monk and that he was an upper rank demon. He said he found you that night sick, after slaughtering and cannibalizing your village. He didn't even want to kill you or eat you because you looked to be on death's door step anyways. Though when you cried out to him he was forced to stay around. When you asked him why he kept returning every night, he refused to explain why. The only answer he had given you was that he felt pity for you.

Following your discussion over that, you asked him once again if you could stay by his side. To which Sekido allowed you to, but you would only be introduced to his counterparts as his ward. You agreed to that. You stayed underneath Sekido's watch and protection while living with him and his counterparts at their hideout. Sekido arranged for you to sleep in the same room as him, though not in the same bed.

Eventually, you and Sekido grew closer to each other and when you were alone you both liked to lay next to one another. Kind of like tonight, with you laying on his bed facing him while he had his eyes shut. You closely admired the purple veins on his forehead and eyes, the curved horns, and sharp pointed fangs that stuck out of his mouth. He was, in your terms, ruggedly handsome.

"I can feel you staring at me, human," Sekido mutters with his eyes remaining closed. You let out a short chuckle and he adds on, "Why are you staring at me?"

You reached up to cup his cheek in the palm of your hand. You answer his question softly, "I'm just admiring your face, Sekido. You know you are not as scary as you look. There's a few rough edges to your appearance," You didn't flinch when he opened his eyes and crimson hues were fixedly narrowed at you. Your finger delicately touches his jawline then the bridge of his nose and finally his furrowed brow bone. "But there's also the softness that I'm fond of." You smile brightly at him.

Sekido took your hand in his own and murmured, "What are you talking about?"

You didn't say anything instead you leaned closer to him and confidently pressed your lips to his. The demon's eyes widened at the feeling of your lips touching his own. He laid there stunned and still until you slowly pulled away from him.

A giggle past through your lips when you noticed the bewildered expression on his normal scowling face. Suddenly Sekido's hand came to the back of your head and pulled you back to his lips. His mouth locked in with yours while his tattooed tongue delved into the cavern of your orifice. You gasped into his mouth from the unexpected kiss, but returned it with just as much vigor as he bestowed.

You kissed him until your lungs were crying for air and only then did you finally pull away to pant against his supple lips. Sekido's face was tickled by the puffs of air onto his skin.

"I have lived for over two centuries, and never have I encountered a human like you. You are foolish if your wishful mind thinks that a demon like me would ever learn to devote their life to you."

His cruel words were strikingly different from his earlier actions. Though you didn't bother to argue or point it out. While it certainly wasn't an explicit explanation of rejection, you smile regardless to him and lay your head on his chest. "Then call me a fool then, Sekido, because I don't think my mind will change when it comes to someone like you."

— KARAKU

You chirping with glee as you sat on Karaku's lap and patted powdered makeup that matched his dark skin tone onto the areas of his face that had purple veins on it. You held his chin in your other hand while closely examining for any spot you may have missed. Thankfully you didn't and you slid off of his lap while grabbing a handheld mirror and showing it to your lover.

"Look to see if I covered everything up." You say.

He takes the mirror out of your hand and looks at his reflection, his green eyes narrowing for any missed spots. "Hm... I think you covered everything up fine." He then turned to you with a frown and pointed to the horns on his head, "Now what are we going to do about these?"

Your face warms up when you remember the horns on his head. You didn't think about trying to hide them so you didn't know of any method of doing it. As far as you knew, Karaku couldn't conceal them. Therefore you were left with only one option.

With a cheerful smile you blurt out, "We can just tell everyone that they're a part of your costume!"

Karaku grimaces at you, "If you wanted me to dress up as a demon, we could have just forego the makeup and I could have just went as myself."

"Y-Yeah, but what if people get scared by how...devilish you look?"

The demon stood up from the bed and folded his arms above his head, "So? My devilish charm didn't stop you from mounting me like an animal." He smirked at the flustered expression you made.

"You shut your mouth! We've never even gotten that far!"

"Yet." He interjected.

After he made you fluster and stammer over your words again, you decide to ignore your lover for the time being and went to get dressed for the night. Tonight, you had established a date with Karaku by going out to a festival in the entertainment district. Of course there would be people there dressed in bizarre clothing, so you believed that Karaku could attend it without a problem. The only thing you had difficulties with was concealing his horns. Once you were dressed in your outfit for the night, you instructed him to dress in his black yukata tied with a red obi.

You left with him to go to the festival, while you were there some children were in awe at Karaku's "mask" and said he looked like a formidable demon. He arrogantly boasted about his muscles, showing his arms off to the kids and letting them hang off of it like a monkeys in a tree. Eventually they left you two alone and you and him enjoyed your time at the festival. There were some occurrences with Karaku almost exposing himself as a demon. Such as him tossing a ring and when he didn't land on any of the flasks, his supernatural strength was exposed when he slammed his fist on the counter and broke through the surface. Of course, the humans around you just assumed he was a overwhelmingly strong brute and paid him no mind.

As the night grew to a close, the musicians at the festival played lively music at a venue. The strings of the samisen, pounding on the taiko, and whistles of the shakuhachi sing. You took Karaku by the hand and led him in a graceful, animated dance. Your fingers were intertwined with his as you two dance closely to each other's bodies. The radiant smile you had never once faltered from your face as you moved your body to the rhythm of the music.

"Thank you for coming out with me tonight, Karaku," You say as you stare lovingly at him. Your heart was beating in your chest like a drum, and you had an inkling Karaku could hear it even with the music playing in the background. "I really enjoyed myself with you here."

The demon's lips curved up, his fangs peeking through when he did so and his hands settle on your hips. "The feeling is mutual my little human." His eyes softens at yours, and lids lowered as he leans closer to your lips.

Your face heats up when he leans intimately towards you. You try to back away from him, but Karaku is quicker and he keeps you pinned to his strong body. A flutter rises in your stomach. Your hands tighten on his shoulders, and you keep your feet planted on the ground.

"Karaku," you shyly whisper his name.

He doesn't say a word, instead his lips closes in on yours and the distance between you two is shortened. Your eyes shut as you perceive his warm and soft lips on yours. An idea crosses your mind to embrace Karaku by locking your hands together behind his nape. He could taste the sugary flavor lingering on your lips from the candied treat you had ate earlier. While the savor of it was unpalatable to his demonic appetite, Karaku found it to be rather nice as it was solely comparable to your gentle spirit. As your breaths mingled through the exhales of your noses, your hands moved up and fingers weaved into the thick wispy tresses of his hair.

The passionate kiss you shared with Karaku was abruptly short by the loud explosions of fireworks bursting in the night sky. You two pulled away from each other, and your eyes were locked. The explosion of fireworks weren't the only thing enchanting you that night.

— AIZETSU

You were laying in your bed, sleeping underneath the warmth of your blanket, at the time a gust of crisp air entered your room. The wind lifted your blanket away from your body and carried it to a desolate corner where it dropped into a heap. You unconsciously flinch and move into a fetal position. A candle you had lit beside your window got extinguished by the strength of the breeze. In seconds, you slowly awoke from your slumber and drowsily took in your surroundings in your bedchamber. As soon as you turned your head to your right you see an all too familiar dejected face framed by wispy onyx hair and luminous azure eyes.

You lift yourself up to sit upright and look up at your demonic significant other. "Aizetsu... what are you doing here?" You asks him softly. His sudden arrival was entirely unexpected as usually he would send you a letter about coming to see you in advance. With him appearing to you now in the dead of the night, you had wondered if anything went wrong with a mission he been assigned to.

He places his spear against the wall and slid off the bulky ropes around his shoulders. He takes a seat on the bed beside you and looks at the wooden floor. You don't utter a word when he reaches out and grabs your hand in his. Aizetsu's thumb strokes the top of your hand whilst gingerly holding it.

"Aizetsu," you repeat his name again and close the distance between your bodies. "What are you doing here?"

The sorrowful demon stops stroking your hand and tightens his grip on it. He quietly says, "I'm sorry for arriving without letting you know. We were in the area and I really wanted to see you before we left for our next mission." His head turned to face you with a troubled expression.

Your eyes widen and your body freeze for a moment. Then you mull over what he just said, and your face brightened. He separated from his other counterparts so he could visit you before they departed. It was thoughtful of him to do that.

"I'm happy to see you tonight, Aizetsu."

Your words took him by surprise as he stuttered, "Y-You are?" He questions, and leans his face closer to yours. The demon gently cups your cheek in his hand as he pleaded, "Please don't tell me you're saying that just to ease my misery."

You could feel your heart beat quicken from how close he was. You could just how many eyelashes he had and analyze the plum-colored ridges below his eyes. It was astounding despite how many times you spent with Aizetsu you were always nervous around him. You wonder if it was the same feeling for him.

Gradually, the distance between your lips closed and you felt sparks fly when his lips touched yours. The kiss wasn't anything too sensual or too dull, to you it felt just right. Aizetsu didn't want to encourage you into deepening it either, so the two of you just sat there feeling one another's lips in a sense of innocence.

Your lack of awareness of your surroundings was dwindling until the sudden bang! of your door pulled you away from the demon. Startled you both looked to where the origin of the sound came from and were annoyed to see none other than Karaku standing in the door way.

"Time's up kiddos, Aizetsu has to go with us now to the next location!"

You let out a sigh and turn your attention to your sorrowful lover, "I take this as you have to leave now, yes?"

Aizetsu nodded his head while he stood up from the bed still holding onto your hand. "I will be back for you, my beloved. Next time I will send a letter before surprising you again like this."

"You don't have to send a letter of notice anymore Aizetsu. If you surprise me like this again with a visit then I will be happy."

— UROGI

"UROGI!" You hollered from the from the ground and watched as your part-avian demonic lover flew through the sky terrorizing children. You knew that he wanted to eat them for sustenance, and while he was a demon and you were a human, you didn't want for him to do that to children. At least to keep his need to eat humans away from your sight and mind.

Once more you shout out his name, "Urogiiii!!"

He chortled and flew right past you shouting, "Just a moment my sunshine!" Your face fell into a frown when he did that. You could hear his boisterous laughter and the sound of children screaming afterwards. You did not want for him to consume those kids so you ran as fast as you could towards the sound.

"Urogi, do not eat those children!"

You came upon your lover and a small group of children, you thought that he had already began to eat them. Fortunately, you were wrong. Urogi was just playing with the human kids, and letting them climb on his back while he flew around with them. The stomach twisting feeling you had went away and you were relieved to find out the children were unharmed. Some of them had bright grins on their cherubic faces as Urogi leapt up towards the sky with three of them on his back and circle the glade.

The demon winked at you from above and played around with the children for a while. You waited for him to eventually descend from the ground safely with the kids and told the group to not tell their parents that a bird-man was flying around with them. For one, you didn't want to get into trouble, and two you didn't want for Urogi to end up getting killed by a hashira. To keep the children's promise not to tattle, you offered them candied treats if they wanted to play with Urogi again and led them to the path of their village before waving them goodbye.

After you watched the last child leave to go into their village, you turn your attention to Urogi and scowled at him. "Urogi! What the heck were you thinking?! Those children could have told their parents!"

"Relax, sunshine, those children weren't hurt were they? They'll be fine!"

You smack your hand to your forehead and rub your temples, grumbling, "That's not what I meant you bird brain! Children have loud mouths, if any of them tell someone about a bird-man flying around with them, they will come to get you!"

Urogi rolls his eyes at your excessive worry, "Calm down, do you want to go flying with me too? Is that it?" He took a step forward when you took a step back.

"W-What? No! I don't want to go-"

"Let's go for a ride, sunshine!"

As soon as the words left from his mouth, Urogi snatched you by the waist and took off with you into the night sky. The shrill shriek you emitted echoed as you wrestled with the demon to let you go. However you immediately stop once you realize that if keep struggling, and Urogi (accidentally of course) drops you, you could end up looking like a pancake. You glare at you lover who just smiles at you cheerfully.

You throw your arms over his shoulders and shout, "This isn't funny, Urogi!" Your eyes take a peek at how high up you are and you quickly hide your face in the junction of his neck and collarbone. A small fearful whimper resonating from you.

"It's not funny for you but I am having a joyous time right now!" He lowered you two towards the ground, though still he hovered just a few feet above. "Now does this make you more comfortable sunshine?"

"Yes it does."

You caught him off guard when you planted your lips against his. The kiss was fleeting, yet it still brought his mind to a brief pause. His golden eyes widen at you and he stood with his feet on the ground. The demon looks away from you once you start to grin.

"What's wrong my birdie? Did that kiss catch you off guard?"

"Don't tease me like that sunshine or you could end up in a predicament."

notes: it was not my intention to use gifs created by the same person lol but they all looked really good so- why not? also sorry for not posting as much, i have been fairly busy and also mentally drained these past few weeks.

[adhd-mess]

Okay, so I’ve seen people coming up with scenarios abt if Solas and Varric were stuck in the Fade together and now I’m imagining if Alistair and Solas were locked in the Fade together.

I wrote at 2 am so if it’s out of character that’s why

Alistair: “Sooo you’re an elven god?”

Solas: *sighs* “Yes.”

Alistair: “Huh.” Contemplative silence. “Can’t you just use your godly powers to zap us back out—uhm respectfully, your….godliness?”

Solas: “Unfortunately I cannot.”

Alistair: “Oh.”

A pause.

Solas: “Do not refer to me as that.”

Alistair. “As what…oh. Well then what shall I refer to you as?”

Solas: “Solas. Just Solas.”

Alistair: “Feels wrong to refer to….I’ll shut up.”

More silence.

Alistair: “So, if I may ask?”

Solas: “Why ask when you’re going to ask it anyway.”

Alistair: *a nervous laugh* “Which god are you? Of the elven pantheon I mean. I know you’re not Mythal.”

Solas: “Fen’harel.”

Alistair. “Ohh. The-the dreadwolf? Right. Riiiight.” Muttering, “of course I’m locked away with the dreadwolf.”

Solas: “You seem well versed in the elven gods for a human.”

Alistair: “Well, if we’re sharing histories, my mother was an elf and I had the fortunate experience of meeting a few elves.” A pause. “Though I don’t know if I’d say I had the fortune of meeting one of them. Take my advice, an assassination attempt is a bad first impression.”

Solas: *a dry chuckle*

If Alistair and Solas are both romanced by the player:

Alistair: “If I don’t die here I’m so going to be dead when I—we get out.” A soft melancholic smile. “I can hear their chiding through the Fade.”

Solas: “You are speaking of your so called Hero of Ferelden, I presume?”

Alistair: “Yes.”

Solas: “I was not aware Wardens had kin; does it not go against your oath?”

Alistair: “Foolish, we were. So incredibly foolish.”

Solas: “I would not doubt it. I’d say say your still foolish; it’s the nature of your kind.”

Alistair: “Yeah yeah. Yknow you sound so much like an old…friend of mine.

Alistair bitterly: “I guess I answered her question.”

Alistair: *scoffs*

Alistair: “Why did I allow myself to get close to them and them to me? Young and childish thinking we could be the exception. I knew how it’d end. How it ends for every Grey Warden. And now their alone. Because of me.”

Alistair: “Uhhh sorry, didn’t mean to diatribe.”

More contemplative silence.

Solas: “Your foolishness is admirable.”

Alistair sarcastically: “Thanks.”

Solas: “You allow yourselves these things that will inevitably be torn away from you convincing yourself that you’re the exception. Why?”

Alistair: “Why? The future is not now. You cannot always fear the future. Because the right now is what counts.….right, of course.”

Alistair: “I was wrong earlier. We knew we the risks, that our time was limited, and despite that we chose each other. In spite of death or duty—everything. Until then it’d be us.”

Solas, absently: “But they didn’t know….”

Alistair: “Know what?”

Alistair, waggling his eyebrows: *gasps* “Wait, hold on, do you have someone?”

Solas scoffs, averting his eyes:

Alistair: “Oh my Maaabari—Mabari! You do? Who is it?”

Alistair: “Wait wait. Hold on, lemme guess.”

Solas: *a deep sigh*

Alistair: “Hmm, it’s the Inquisitor, isn’t it? Don’t even know why I asked to guess, it’s waaay to obvious with how you look at each other.”

Solas: “Are you ever quiet?”

Alistair: “Sooo what happened?”

Solas: “If I tell you will you finally be quiet?”

Alistair: “Maybe.”

*a lengthy explanation later*

Alistair: “Wait. That would make them the Herald of Solas…or no, the Herald of Fen’harel, wouldn’t it? It’s got a nice ring to it.”

Solas: *his face is turning red from embarrassment or anger or both*

Alistair: “You’re blushing!”

—

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

hi mo! i want to wish you a HUGE congrats on your milestone (: you deserve every single follow and like and reblog! your writing is so, so good and it brings me sm comfort if youre still taking requests, can i pls request alfie + “how long has it been since someone hugged you?”

Oh Noni this was so sweet! You are so so kind. It brings me immense joy that my writing brings you comfort. That is the greatest compliment I could ever receive. I’m sending all my love to you darling, I hope you enjoy this.

Guys this is the last request from our 100 Follower Celebration!!! This was so fun and I am so in love with the community we have built here together!!! I’m currently working on our final installment of Interviews for New Beginnings!!! Anyway I love y’all so much, have an amazing day my loves!! - Mo

100 Follower Celebration: Always

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cursing

“Mr. Solomons. I know you don’t want to hear this… or anything I’ve said the past 10 years I’ve been your physician… but you really need to watch your stress levels sir. It may very well kill you one day.”

Dr. Young had been treating Alfie Solomons exclusively for 10 years. Every stab wound, bullet hole, and influenza season had been watched over diligently by the good doctor. But every month his largest concern was Alfie Solomons’ blood pressure and tension headaches. Unfortunately for Dr. Young… Alfie Solomons was the worst patient he ever had.

Alfie ripped the stethoscope off his burly chest and threw it back at his doctor, “Bah fuck off. Respectfully of course. I’m fine. I’m going to live longer than you mark my words. Stress is good for the body.”

Dr. Young shrugged, there was no use fighting with Alfie. Usually Alfie would see reason and silently beckon and repent right before death came knocking, “If you believe Mr. Solomons. Anyway I want you to keep counting your pulse and recording it. Not that you’ll do it I wager. But I’ll be back same time next week.”

“Yeah, right. See Ollie gives you your fee. And double check with my secretary that your window is still open.”

Dr. Young smiles, “I’ll be sure to let her know that I gave you a task so that she keeps you accountable as well.”

As he walked out, leaning heavily on his wooden cane to offset his heavy medical bag, Alfie hollered after him, “You will do no such thing damn you! Ask her the schedule and nothing else!”

Alfie hears the slight chuckle of his ancient physician behind the closed door. Alfie finally lets out the sigh of relief he had been holding tightly all morning. His head falls into his calloused hands. The slow and rhythmic push and rush of his palms against his eyes and temple soothe the panging and banging in his head. An ache that has been ever present for the past few days. One that hasn’t been aided at all by the lack of water in his day to day.

The past few days have been Alfie’s own personal hell. The Americans’ prohibition on spirits has added another layer of problems to the business. New men had been hired and were not all bright, causing more mistakes than their bodies were worth. Cops were getting greedy, and were needing more to smooth their hands and seal their lips. Usually, a boss would have been able to hand off problems to lower levels. Not Alfie. Never Alfie. Alfie doesn’t get to give jobs to anyone else. No one wants to help Alfie. Alfie is to solve every problem. By himself. If he doesn’t do it, it will not get done. If he doesn’t fix it, everything will fall. But it’s always been like this. Ever since his father passed away, he’s been the man. He’s been the fixer. The protector. The boss. The leader. He alone can do it. He alone does it. He alone. He is alone.

Through the barricade of his stress and rage and sweat and stiff muscles, he hears his door click open, and the soft tap of your feet across the floor boards. Your sweet bell voice tingles his nerves, “Alright Alfie I set up Dr. Young’s appointment next week so you are all settled. This afternoon you have two more meetings. Mr. Yusef and Mr. Edmonds. Also you will need to look over the shipping particulars for the shipment to New York in three we- Alfie are you alright?”

You pause looking at his face. He’s always looked rather scruffy and wild but this was different. His face was gaunt and ashen. His usually ruddy cheeks were pale and covered in a thin sheen of sick sweat. Those bright blue and sparkling eyes looked glossy. If you didn’t know better… they could almost be tears.

You don’t even let him try and explain away his symptoms.

“We’re cancelling the rest of your meetings today. No arguements.”

Screaming. Shouting. Bellowing. The glass in the window panes shake. The wood of the desks bang like the sound of gunshots and canons. “VILE WOMAN YOU TOUCH THAT CALENDAR YOU ARE FIRED DO YOU HEAR ME! YOU BRING YOURSELF BACK HERE NOW!”

You ignore him, calling the other secretaries, having to shout over the bellows and cries of your melodramatic yet beloved boss. The excuse you concocted didn’t matter. You wouldn’t care to remember the story you told. You would deal with it later. What mattered was clearing the calendar to make sure that Alfie could be released from his bindings that he so tightly wound around himself cutting the circulation and breath of peace.

You set the cornflower blue and cream colored tea pot on the little stove in the corner. Gingerly stoking the flame, coaxing warmth and light into a sweet roar. You call for hearty treats from the bakery next door, a good array to settle the spirit of your war laden boss. Soon the tea is ready and the soulful remedies are set. The roaring of the animal in the office has settled into rumbles. It was safe to enter.

Upon entering Alfie is again shouting, “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve treacle. I am your boss. I am your superior officer. I pay your paycheck. And you have the absolute fucking audacity to…”

You let the hot words wash over you like a summer storm. You place your tools of healing on Alfie’s desk, swiftly and quietly. You take your spot in your chair across from him, grabbing his worry worn wooden pipe and filling it with his tobacco. Like a dance you’ve done a thousand times, he gingerly takes that pipe from you as he’s still yelling and scolding, pausing briefly to light it and suck in that air like it’s his last meal.

You smile as he blusters on like a thunder cloud. There was no true threat. You would never really be fired. Even if he was cross with you. There was a certain comfort in the noise. Like the storm cloud the noise signified that there was still life and that a calm would soon follow. But there was still the tightness in his shoulders. There was still that look you saw before he started to storm and blow. In a feat of courage you cocked your head to the side, “When was the last time someone hugged you?”

Immediate silence.

“What. What the fuck did you just ask me?”

“When’s the last time someone hugged you? You look like you need one sir.”

His index finger might as well have been a loaded pistol the way he pointed at you, “Men do not hug. I have never been hugged nor will I ever hug do you hear me? Hugged?! It’s even a ridiculous word. I mean… hugged?! No! I don’t want one I don’t need one that is completely and utterly ridiculous!”

You smile, knowing that he would say something like that. As if approaching a wild dog you put your hand out, offering yourself to him. Offering your vulnerability to him. Alfie stared down as thought it held an invisible gun, unsure what it was you held. Carefully and out of practice, he slowly slipped his hand in yours. Cool and smooth fingertips against is hot rough hands. Your hands so easily slips around his, finally finding its home. To Alfie’s absolute shock, he watches as your perfect thumb runs patterns and circles around his scarred knuckles and ornate rings. He watches the way your lashes flutter and soft smile blooms on your face. In a gentle caress to his ears you say, “You know you don’t have to keep it all inside. You can ask for help.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. But doesn’t move his hand away, “I don’t need help.”

You laugh, and he feels his heart skip, “Oh I’m sure you don’t. I’m sure you could run this entire thing by yourself.”

“I could.”

“I know.”

Alfie hums, satisfied that he’s won enough. You sit in silence, the muffled sounds of the distillery and street below being the only signs that you’re still on Earth. Alfie never moved his hand, never responding to your ministrations beyond a gentle squeeze.

“Thank you… for… being here.” Alfie finally breaks the silence. He can’t help the blush that rises to his ears and cheeks. He can’t look away from the smile on your perfect lips.

You nod at him, squeezing his hand and shaking it. “Always.”