#‘this always looks positive from the point of view of the story’ do you mean the point of view of the main character

[myfairkatiecat]

“The narrative does this” “the narrative does that” “the narrative always portrays this like that but that like this” they said about a third person limited story in which there is a singular narrator. wonder if maybe they’re unreliable or something

[infizero]

i dont think i made this clear in the prev post but WHAT I WAS GETTING AT WAS i think toby specifically wants players to get attached to ralsei and make choices playing into that so that the inevitable reveal of our distinction from kris and their own opinions and feelings and everything hits even harder by sort of slapping you in the face and being like HEY BUDDY. THEY DONT WANT THIS. and also a slap in the face to ralsei too who i again would like to say is parasocial asf with us and needs to go to video game therapy :heart:

[drunk-person]

Weeds

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: Aemond approaches Rhaenyra's daughter in childhood, always bringing her small daisies that are not flowers, but simple weeds.

WARNING: No age restriction. Mentions of blood, previous injuries and medieval medical procedures. Other than that, just cuteness and sweetness. No reader discretion!

Word cont: 7.500 k

Author's note: This story was the result of a request sent by an anon, it was the first time I received a request and it made me very happy because usually when I make a request to a specific author it is because I like how that person tells the stories from their own point of view, so… thank you. It is not 100% focused only on what is in the request, since I have already read several stories with this same theme, so I decided to adapt and tell it in my own way. I hope you like it! 🥰💕

Ps: Y/n can be the daughter of either Harwin, Laenor or Daemon, you choose!

The day dawned sunny and warm in Kings Landing, bringing many of the nobles out into the courtyards and gardens of the red keep. While the adults whispered gossip and negotiated positions and power, the children simply played and laughed around the Keep.

-I don't know why you like these silly flowers so much. - Jace rolled his eyes as he watched his younger sister braid the freshly picked bouquet of daisies into a flower crown. - They're not even real flowers! I heard the septa say to a girl that they are weeds!

-I like them. - Y/n sighed in a soft voice, shrugging her shoulders without stopping to braid the flowers. - They're delicate and make beautiful crowns!

Jace rolled his eyes and pulled the flower crown from his sister's hands and lifted it slightly in the air so that the younger one couldn't reach it.

-Jace! - The girl scolded, getting up from the floor and brushing the dust off the blue dress she was wearing for the day. - Give it back to me or I'll tell Mom!

-Leave her alone! - Before Jace could answer, Aemond's shy but firm voice sounded through the courtyard, making Y/n smile and go to meet him, forgetting about the flower crown stolen by Jace almost instantly.

-Hi Aemond! - She smiled, tilting her head to the side in a sweet way, making Jace roll his eyes even more deeply.

-I want to see if you have so much courage when training with dragons… - The brunette spoke provocatively and then started laughing. - Oh, I forgot… you don't even have a dragon.

-If you continue to be mean, I'll tell Muña what you and Aegon did yesterday! - The youngest screamed when she saw Aemond's embarrassment, and Jace's eyes widened and he ran away right away, leaving her alone with the older one.

-What did he and Aegon do yesterday? - Aemond asked curiously and the youngest shrugged her shoulders with a confused look.

-I don't know, but Jace probably wouldn't want our mother to know.

Aemond couldn't help but chuckle at the girl's answer, but the smile slowly faded when he saw the sad look on her face when she saw her bouquet of daisies crumpled on the floor.

-Jace ruined them. - She sighed in a sad voice as she played with the crumpled petals on the floor.

-Don't be sad. - The oldest sat next to her. - I'll get some more for you.

-But you said they only grew in the south of forest! - She sighed even more sadly. - You can't go there alone and there won't be another hunt for another 2 moons!

-I'll find a way to get them for you. - Aemond shrugged as he subtly brushed his fingers against hers, who didn't really believe him, but was happy that he cared so much.

-Aem? - Her sweet voice called him moments later as she looked at the sunny blue sky, full of white clouds.

-Yes? - He looked at her curiously when he heard the nickname coming from her lips.

-Don't pay attention to what my brother says. - She muttered, looking at him. - He can be very silly sometimes.

-Something that our brothers apparently have in common. - He rolled his eyes, making the youngest laugh.

-If Aegon and Jace are mean to you again, I'll tell Hūraxes to set them on fire. - The little girl hissed decisively and the older boy gave a small smile.

-I don't know why, but I don't think our mothers would be happy with that. - Aemond rolled his eyes, lowering his gaze, making Y/n smile too.

The next day, the sun had barely risen and Aemond was already chasing Sir Cole through the courtyard, vehemently insisting that he needed to go to the kings wood.

-I just don't understand what you want to do there, my prince. - The knight looked at him confused. - We were there about two days ago.

-I just want to go, Criston. - Aemond rolled his eyes, poorly raised. - And if you don't go with me, I'll find a way to escape and go there alone.

And overcome by tiredness and fearful that the young prince known for his stubbornness would actually keep his promise, Criston reluctantly led him to the forest.

The morning passed quickly at Red Kepp with the adults immersed in their daily activities while the children just attended their daily classes and played among themselves.

Y/n was laughing amusedly as she watched a rabbit that had entered one of the Kepp gardens, it was very white, fluffy and skittish making her laugh as she tried to imitate it. She had been looking for Aemond all morning, but without success in finding him and only now had she found something fun to do alone.

Until, amidst the soft rustling of the leaves, Aemond's voice rang out through the garden, calling her name softly.

-Aem! - She ran to him excitedly. - Look! A bunny!

But Aemond didn't seem very excited about the fluffy animal, he just waved and continued to look at her, looking a little embarrassed.

-Is everything okay? - She tilted her head to the side. - Was Jace bad again?

-No, it's nothing like that. - He sighed after gathering courage. - I just brought you a gift.

And taking his hands from behind his back, he handed the youngest a beautiful bouquet of fragrant, freshly picked daisies, still with a few drops of morning dew on them.

Y/n's eyes widened and became full of brightness at the same time, a smile lit up her childish face as she extended her hands expectantly to the eldest, who smiled at her reaction.

-How did you get them? - She sighed, smelling the flowers with a whiff of air as she looked at Aemond through the bouquet.

-I asked Sir Criston to take me to the forest and I picked them for you. - He shrugged, lowering his gaze a little blushing, and Y/n smiled even more, tilting her head to the side, admiring him.

-They're beautiful, Aem. - Y/n hugged him, being careful not to crush the beautiful daisies. - The most beautiful bouquet I've ever received!

-Have you received many bouquets? - He raised his eyebrow a little laughingly, and Y/n gently pushed his shoulder.

-Don't be silly, Aem.

The rest of the day Princess Y/n spent weaving beautiful flower crowns for herself using the flowers from the bouquet, except for a few that she separated and kept inside her favorite book, just as she had seen her mother do a few times.

And when Rhaenyra smiled and asked who had given her the flowers with her eyebrows raised in confusion, the little girl simply replied that it had been a secret admirer, making her mother roll her eyes with a smile as she kissed her forehead and stroked her hair.

Time passed more and more, and as friendship and love blossomed between Y/n and Aemond, enmity and hatred grew between him and her brothers. Everything reached its peak on the night of Laena Velaryon's wake, when Aemond reclaimed Vhagar and Luke in return gouged out his eye.

Y/n hadn't seen the commotion, she was a little scared after the wake and hearing Rhaena and Baela crying made her almost cry too, and for a moment she thought about how she would feel if she herself lost her mother. With that thought Y/n left the room she shared with her brothers and cousins ​​and ran to her mother's room, lying down alone among the covers waiting for her to return, sleeping in the middle of the wait.

The girl was woken up in the middle of the night by shrill screams and raised voices breaking through the Driftmark fortress. And even fearful she left her mother's room and walked to the main hall following the sound of the voices. The Vision that greeted her was one of the most terrible she had ever witnessed in her life.

Aemond sat rigid in a chair, biting his lower lip tightly without making a sound, while the maester stitched up a furious red wound where his beautiful eye had once been.

At the same moment, tears ran down Y/n's face. Unable to make a sound, she ran to the foot of the chair, throwing herself on her knees and taking Aemond's hands in hers as she cried and sobbed. She didn't even notice her mother and brothers standing further away.

-A-Aemond. - She finally sobbed the name of the eldest after a few moments. - What happened?

Aemond didn't say anything, he just lowered his head, feeling the weight of everyone's gaze in the room on them both and barely able to open his lips for fear of succumbing to the pain and screaming if he did, even though he had already drunk a certain amount of poppy milk.

-What happened? - Alicent shouted, drawing everyone's eyes back to her. - I already said what happened! My son was attacked in an ambush and had his eye gouged out by Lucerys Velaryon!

Y/n shook her head in internal denial, still firmly pressing Aemond's hands in hers, barely noticing the blood that had not yet completely dried on his hands, staining hers. Finally noticing Luke's broken nose and crimson-red stained face, while Jace hovered protectively in front of him.

She didn't know what to think at that moment, and suddenly felt like a loud ringing was in her ears, and she just held her breath when her mother and the queen faced each other in the middle of the room with a dagger between them. The fear from earlier took over the girl's heart again at the same moment when she saw the blood running down her mother's wounded arm, and before things got any worse, Aemond stood up, assuming a very firm and straight posture.

-Don't cry for me, mother. - He spoke in a firm voice and without wavering even once. - I might have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon.

The youngest looked at him confused, not understanding what he meant by that. And when Alicent dragged Aemond back to his room, Y/n tried to follow him, but was stopped by her mother's soft touch on her shoulder, who looked at her with a stern look while shaking her head negatively.

-Why did you do this to him! - Y/n shouted, walking hard towards Luke, her eyes burning with fury as the others left the main hall.

-It wasn't his fault! - Jace shouted back, interposing himself between his younger brothers. - Luke was just defending himself against your dear friend Aemond!

-Lie! - She shouted at Jace while the two were fighting, not listening to Rhaenyra who ordered the two to stop arguing immediately.

-He stole Vhagar, beat Rhaena, broke Luke's nose and then tried to hit me with a stone! - Jace enumerated furiously, staring at the youngest. - All this while calling us bastards…

-Jace! - Rhaenyra practically shouted, reprimanding him firmly for using such a word.

Y/n just stood still for a moment, her eyes wide as she heard that while she slowly shook her head.

-You're lying. Aemond wouldn't do that. - She practically whispered, not her dear Aemond who hugged her and picked wild daisies just to make her happy, he would never do something like that without reason. - I don't believe you.

-But it's the truth! - Jace hissed between his teeth.

-What did you do to him? - Y/n shouted, livid with fury once again, glaring at her brother while ignoring her mother's reprimands. - He wouldn't attack you without reason!

-But he did! - Now it was Rhaena who shouted. - He stole my mother's dragon that was supposed to be mine and then attacked us.

-If you wanted Vhagar so much, you should have gone to her before someone else did! - Y/n spat back, facing the girl.

-Don't talk to her like that because of him! - Jace snapped back, now in front of Rhaena.

And before the argument could continue any longer, Rhaenyra reprimanded them both firmly, this time, leaving no room for questioning. And fearing that the argument would prevail, she took Y/n with her to her own room, taking her away from her brothers and cousins.

Hours later, when the day dawned looking more gray than anything else, Y/n waited until her mother was busy enough with the preparations for the trip and slipped into the room where she knew Aemond was. She was staring at the door in the distance at the end of the hallway, when suddenly it opened and Alicent left the room.

Taking a deep breath to gather courage, Y/n walked quickly over there, closing the door carefully behind her.

-I just want to be alone, mother… - Aemond's voice died when he noticed Y/n there, and as if she hadn't seen the injury the night before, he tried to hide it, turning his face to the side quickly while holding his breath.

-Aem. - She approached the bed slowly.

-Don't look at me. - He hid even more. - I'm completely deformed.

-T-There's nothing wrong with you. - She murmured, extending her hand slowly, fearing that he would move away once again and when he didn't, she slowly stroked his hair with her fingertips.

-I'm leaving for Dragonstone. - She sniffed, looking at his back and seeing him tense up at the same instant. - I just wanted to let you know that I don't believe anything they said about you. And that I'm happy for you to reclaim Vhagar.

As if those words had a calming effect on him, the older boy back relaxed slightly.

-Thank you. - He practically murmured, still feeling her soft touch on his hair.

And interrupting the moment, Y/n heard her mother's voice calling her from a distance, her eyes widening immediately afterwards.

-I have to go. - She sighed, slowly removing her hand. - Aemond?

-Yes?

-Can I see your face before I leave? - She whispered and he didn't move a muscle. - Please. I don't know when I'll be able to see you again.

Taking a deep breath, Aemond decided to end it and break his own heart once and for all when he saw the repulsion he knew would be in her eyes when she saw his mutilation in the light of day.

He slowly turned to her, barely looking her in the eyes as he did so, fearing what he would see there, and when he finally looked at her, what he found was not what he expected. Y/n had approached him with her face hovering inches away, and when he thought he couldn't get any closer, she left a gentle, soft kiss on the stitches that closed the reddened skin of his cheek that had become a mess of patched skin.

-You're still perfect for me, Aem. - She sighed against his skin delicately, making him almost gasp in surprise.

And hearing her mother call her once again, Y/n said "Goodbye" in a very low voice, feeling tears fall as she ran towards the door, heartbroken for leaving the injured Aemond behind.

After that, weeks passed before the two spoke again because they were so far apart, until one morning Aemond got up practically before nightingale time and ran to send a raven saying he was sorry for not having said goodbye properly weeks ago, placing with the letter a small daisy with slightly wilted petals that he had picked in the forest two days before.

The answer came a day later in the form of a long letter in which Y/n detailed everything that had happened at Dragon Stone in the last few days while stating how much she wished he was there, and how much he would enjoy the place.

From then on, it became common for both of them to exchange letters in secret, talking about their own lives and telling each other daily secrets week after week, month after month. Aemond's letters always included a small daisy attached, which made Y/n smile as she felt the sweet aroma of the flower while reading the contents of the letter.

Until the day Aemond sent her a letter informing her that the Master was preparing to perform a procedure on his missing eye to reduce the constant pain he had been feeling lately, and that he recommended inserting something so that the pressure would help his body readapt.

He did not receive a reply to that letter for days and when he thought, with his heart heavy with pain and shame, that the reply would no longer come, he received a small note through a raven with only a few words written and Y/n's name signed below.

Meet me on the middle island at the hour of the wolf.

Y/n

And without blinking he went.

In the middle of the night he sneaked through the secret passages until he reached the royal forest, where Vhagar slept soundly when she was not flying, and mounted her, leaving as stealthily as he could considering the enormous size of the centuries-old dragon.

As he approached the island, he noticed Y/n sitting on the grass, looking up at the starry sky, her head resting on Hūraxes' wing, covered in silver-blue scales. He caught his breath immediately when he noticed how much she had grown, as had her dragon.

As soon as she noticed Vhagar's approach, Y/n stood up, very anxious, admiring the grandeur of Aemond and his dragon in the sky. And when he got down and walked towards her, the two of them were barely breathing, staring at each other in the darkness, with only the moon illuminating them.

-Hello.

-Hi.

The two murmured at the same time, overcome by shyness and embarrassment after not seeing each other for so long and speaking only through letters.

-Y-You're taller. - Y/n whispered, not knowing whether to look up and stare at him or look down and stare at her own feet.

-Mmmm. - He didn't know what to answer, he was too lost in the melodious and sweet sound that her voice had developed over the years.

The two remained silent, staring at each other for what seemed like hours, while little Hūraxes bothered Vhagar by poking her with her nose and the older one turned away, occasionally snorting when she was prevented from sleeping.

-You called me? - Aemond murmured almost inaudibly after the long silence and Y/n widened her eyes, as if she had forgotten that she had planned all this.

-Y-Yes. - She cleared her throat after stuttering. - Yes, I did.

Aemond looked at her questioningly and with a sigh the younger one walked over to Hūraxes, whispering for him to be quiet and leave Vhagar alone in Valyrian, making Aemond smile and close his eye slightly as he felt a pang in his chest.

-I wanted to give you something as a gift. - She looked back as she took something that was firmly attached to her dragon's saddle, and Aemond frowned in confusion at the prospect of receiving a gift from her.

And without saying anything else, Y/n approached and slowly unwrapped the cloth that previously covered what Aemond noticed was a large block of sapphire.

-You told me that the maester is going to do a procedure to alleviate your pain. - She began a little awkwardly, fearing that he would not like the idea. - And that you would need something for the inside.

With a little more courage she reached out her hand slowly and touched him over the eye patch in a gentle caress.

-I always thought your eyes looked like them when I was a child. - She sighed, looking him in the eye now. - As bright as sapphires.

And seeming to have no control over himself, Aemond inclined his head to her gentle touch.

-I thought I would need something that would do at least justice to the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen in my life. - And without thinking about how indecent that would be considered, Y/n leaned forward and put her forehead against Aemond's, staring straight into his eyes. - I found the stone myself, with the help of my guard, of course.

The older one didn't know what to say. He just stood there, staring at her almost breathlessly.

-I am not worthy of so much praise. - He finally muttered a few moments later with his gaze down and Y/n smiled wistfully.

-You are worthy of even more.

And slowly pulling away, she passed the sapphire block to his hands, feeling the touch, previously so soft when they were children, rough and calloused, causing strange goosebumps on her skin.

-I am sorry for not being with you that night. - She lamented, looking at the floor and then looking up at him again. - What my brothers did to you was unforgivable!

-There was nothing you could do, Y/n. - He spoke in a muffled voice, squeezing the sapphire block between his fingers. - You would only hurt yourself too, and I couldn't bear that.

-I also can't bear that you got hurt without me being able to do anything to help. - The pain in her eyes was visible even in the darkness and Aemond would rather be dead than see suffering in her eyes.

-You shouldn't blame yourself for this. - He murmured getting closer to her. - It wasn't in your power to save me.

-But I am grateful for being my confidant all these years, never leaving me alone even for a moment. - Aemond placed the sapphire block on a rock on the ground and held her hands between his affectionately, making her smile with her gaze downcast.

-I have something for you. - He murmured a little shyly, reaching into his pocket and taking out a slightly crushed daisy, making Y/n's eyes light up almost instantly. - I had brought you more, but the wind on Vhagar's back tore them apart, I could only save this one.

-She is perfect. - The youngest smiled, taking the flower from his hands and placing it behind her ear with her eyes shining. - The most beautiful flower I have ever received.

-Have you received many flowers? - He asked with a simple side smile, making her smile beautifully when she realized that he remembered it too.

And breathing deeply as she heard the rustling of birds in the trees as the first rays of morning appeared in the sky, Y/n left a quick kiss on the left corner of Aemond's lips, making him widen his eyes in shock as she ran away with flushed cheeks towards Hūraxes, leaving Aemond stunned behind.

Only when Y/n was already flying through the dawn with her dragon was he able to move again, breathing deeply, feeling his lungs burn as he smiled with his hand on the place where her soft lips had touched.

And still smiling, he reached for the sapphire block on the rock, realizing at that moment that there was a note attached to the bottom, with an anxious look he opened it as fast as his hands could.

"I will be praying to the gods every day and every night for your recovery. I hope you will accept this gift as a demonstration of my eternal affection for you.

With all my love, Y/n"

And looking at the paper affectionately, he put it in his pocket, close to his heart, walking again to Vhagar, feeling his chest heat up uncontrollably.

⚜⚜⚜

The procedure performed by the masters was a success, and even in the midst of recovery, Aemond did not stop writing to Y/n, who was elated to receive the first letter after the meeting, as she feared that he would take her for an dishonorable girl judging by that night.

After that first escape and the healing of Aemond's skin, meetings like that on that small island became frequent for the two. Escaping in the middle of the night and meeting under the moon and stars while they talked and smiled at each other. Every now and then, when he felt bold, Aemond would steal a kiss from her sweet lips, and then they would both blush to death, looking at each other shyly.

A few months after the eye procedure, Aemond felt comfortable showing his almost completely healed eye again to Y/n. He thought it was unfair not to let her see it since she had given him the stone, and he knew she was curious, but he was afraid she would find it grotesque beyond measure and not want to see him anymore after that.

He was completely wrong. As soon as she saw the sapphire attached to the socket where his beautiful blue eye had previously been, she sighed with contentment, carefully bringing her hand to the area and gently caressing the scar.

-Gevie. (beautiful)- She sighed in Valyrian, barely noticing that she had changed languages ​​due to surprise and making Aemond blush slightly with such a feeling of approval for himself.

Over time, Aemond learned a way to bring the daisies to Y/n without them arriving completely crushed and destroyed, and she was overjoyed with joy with each bouquet of flowers she received from him.

There was just one problem, someone started to notice Y/n's constant happiness and the fact that she was constantly surrounded by those weeds that everyone knew didn't grow in Dragon Stone's volcanic soil.

And one day, taking advantage of his sister's distraction, he followed her in Vermax to a small island, landing stealthily among the trees and frowning when he saw her alone admiring the sky. Until a monstrously large shadow covered the moon's brightness over the earth, making him almost lose his breath. And when Vhagar landed with its enormity, the entire land of the island trembled.

Jace's eyes shone with fury when the older man took a bouquet of those damned weeds and held it out to his sister, who accepted it with a bright smile, leaving a kiss on the corner of his lips.

-Get your paws off my sister! - Jacaerys shouted in fury, walking towards them both, making Y/n's eyes widen in shock.

-Jace? What are you doing here?

He didn't answer, he just pulled her arm hard, making her hiss in pain as he snatched the bouquet from her hands and threw it hard on the floor. At the same moment, Aemond pushed him to the ground without making the slightest effort, his face contorted with anger, while Hūraxes approached, growling in an furious manner.

-Don't you dare hurt her, you damn thing! - He growled, taking hard steps towards Jace, causing Vermax to jump from where he was hiding among the trees and threaten to breathe fire on Aemond. But that didn't do much to scare him, since now he had Vhagar who, upon seeing the knight under threat, stood up in a more than imposing manner, hovering behind Aemond and making Vermax back down with just a powerful snort that made the plants spread across the ground.

Aemond threw a smile of maximum arrogance at Jace who was still down, and Before he could hit him again, Y/n intervened with wide eyes, making him stop at the same moment, staring at her fixedly.

-You're going to come home with me. - Jace snorted, standing up, now even more furious at being easily surpassed by Aemond both in physical strength and in the strength of his dragons. - And when I tell our mother and Daemon that you were alone, at dawn, in the middle of nowhere with that cripple, she'll ask for his head for dishonoring you!

Jacaerys had barely closed his mouth when Y/n gave him a loud slap on the left cheek, her eyes burning with rage.

-Don't you dare refer to him that way again! - She shouted angrily, making Aemond's eyes widen. - Do you hear me?

-You want to know? - Jace laughed without humor and even more angrily. - You can stay here with him! It'll be even better to see our mother's and Daemon's reaction when I tell them that you're still here with him.

And after spitting out the words, he turned and climbed onto Vermax with ease, already flying towards Dragon Stone.

-No! - Y/n screamed desperately, unable to stop him, and even at a disadvantage since he had left first, she ran to Hūraxes, ready to mount.

-Y/n! - Aemond's voice sounded tense. - Where are you going?

-I need to stop him! - She practically cried, staring at him in despair. - If my mother finds out, and especially… if Daemon finds out, they'll say you dishonored me and they'll want to hurt you for it!

-You can't go like this! - He murmured, visibly worried, as he caressed her face affectionately.

-I'll be okay. - She forced a smile, stroking the dragon's silver-blue scales. - Hūraxes will take care of me.

Y/n was preparing to climb onto the dragon, but then a terrible idea crossed her mind. What if she never saw Aemond again? What if everything went wrong and the two were separated forever? And faced with these catastrophic thoughts, she turned back and kissed him on the lips. A real kiss, different from all the others they had shared up until that moment. Their tongues intertwined and danced between them, and they only let go when they were practically out of breath.

Aemond pressed his forehead against Y/n's, and they both closed their eyes in silence for a few moments, trapped in that mutual understanding that had always been so common and certain for them.

And with a final sigh, Y/n separated from him and climbed onto Hūraxes' saddle, feeling tears almost escaping her eyes as she flew away from her former safe haven.

Aemond looked at the other beautiful daisies, now crushed and trampled on the ground, and feeling his heart heavy with pain, he mounted Vhagar and took flight towards Kings Landing.

Unfortunately, no matter how fast her dear Hūraxes was, Y/n couldn't get to the Dragon Stone before Jacaerys. And when she landed on the sandy ground and walked towards the castle, Y/n could see her mother and stepfather with deadly looks on their faces.

-Y/n, I want you to tell me the truth. - Rhaenyra spoke in a restrained manner as soon as she reached the top of the stairs. - Did you let him touch you?

Rhaenyra wanted to say more than kisses and soft hugs in the starlight, but Y/n didn't know that and so she just stared at her own feet, blushing, unable to say a single word.

-By the gods. - The older woman sighed, looking at her husband.

-For me, the solution is clear, we ask for his head for taking away her virtue and solve all our problems at once. - Daemon hissed furiously, making Y/n's eyes widen.

-No! - She practically screamed. - It wasn't that way! Aemond never touched me like that, I swear!

-How do I know you're not just trying to protect him? - Rhaenyra looked at her very seriously.

-Muña, I swear to you! - Y/n pleaded. - I swear! He would only kiss me and bring me flowers! That's all! Don't hurt him, please!

-Go to your room right now and get ready, we're going to Kings Landing! - Rhaenyra's voice sounded very serious, making Daemon smile widely while Y/n shivered in panic.

-Muña, I'm begging you. - Y/n cried, looking deeply into the older woman's eyes. - Don't hurt him. If anything happens to Aemond, it will be as if it had happened to me!

And wiping the tears with the back of her hands, she walked with long strides towards the chambers, finding Jace standing in the way.

-If Aemond suffers any harm or is exiled because of you, I will disregard you as my brother! - She practically spat those words angrily at Jacaerys, making him shiver.

Rhaenyra and Daemond argued all morning before leaving for Kings Landing, the shouts in Valyrian could be heard from miles away. Y/n understood some parts, especially what Daemond was saying, since his angry voice could reach the seven hells at that height.

Basically, he continued to ask for Aemond's head or exile, which according to him was the best possible option and the most beneficial considering the whole situation and thinking about a not too distant future. Y/n wanted to understand what her mother was saying, but she used a strangely low tone of voice with screams when she was angry, making it difficult to hear anything from a distance other than angry and disjointed growls.

Rhaenyra didn't even want to leave by ship, since only Y/n, Jace, Daemon and Rhaenyra herself would go to the capital. They all went by dragon, and Y/n had never had such a terrible flight in her life, feeling her stomach churn to the point of almost vomiting on poor Hūraxes.

When they finally arrived and got off the carriage in front of the Red Keep, Y/n didn't know if it was just her impression, but the silence there seemed morbid while Alicent and Oto waited at the top of the stairs.

-My princess, what brings you here without giving us any warning? - Oto murmured, raising his eyebrow in curiosity.

-This is still our house Hightower. - Daemon spat, rolling his eyes. - We don't need to give you any warning or ask for your permission to come.

-That's not what I said, my prince. - Oto spat back, trying to maintain his composure.

-I came to discuss very serious matters with my father. - Rhaenyra finally spoke, and before Oto could open his mouth she cut him off with a serious voice. - Only with my father!

-You don't need to guide me, I know the way. - And without saying anything else she put her right hand on Y/n's back, guiding her into the Keep.

Y/n couldn't feel anything other than fear. All she could think was Aemond. Her eyes ran through every corner and crevice of the castle, looking for even a figure that could indicate his presence, but she didn't see him anywhere.

When they arrived at Viserys' room, a strange smell took over Y/n's nostrils, momentarily distracting her until she realized where the smell was coming from when she saw her grandfather sitting reading a book in an armchair with twice the wounds he had the last time she had seen him.

–Dad? - Rhaenyra whispered and the old man's eyes instantly shone as he looked up.

-My beloved girl! It's so good to see you!

And Rhaenyra hugged him, feeling warmth in her chest as she did so, and for a moment Y/n thought she would reconsider bothering the king by seeing him in such conditions, but she didn't reconsider. She whispered something inaudibly in his ear, making Y/n's skin crawl with pure anguish.

-This calls for an audience with all those involved. - Viserys finally spoke out loud and Y/n felt her heart drop in her chest.

Almost an hour later, they were all gathered in the main hall with Viserys wearing the crown for the first time in months and sitting on the Iron Throne.

Alicent and Otto had morbid looks on their faces while Aemond remained motionless, avoiding looking at Y/n so as not to make the already bad situation even worse.

-As your king, your father and your grandfather, I order you to be sincere. - Viserys did his best to keep the firm voice he once had.

-Aemond, did you take away Y/n's virtue?

After that question, the empty hall was dominated by a deadly silence, and with a sigh Aemond murmured.

-No, I would never dishonor her in that way.

-But would you take her to a piece of land in the middle of nowhere at the hour of the wolf to just exchange kisses? - Daemon mocked and Viserys gestured for him to be quiet while Rhaenyra glared at him with a deadly look.

-Y/n, is what Aemond says true?

-Yes, your grace. - She spoke as firmly as she could while holding her hands tightly so as not to tremble. - He never touched me in an inappropriate way.

-Well, if they both vehemently deny any accusations against my son, you can't do anything against him! - Alicent scolded with contained fury facing Rhaenyra.

-Nothing may have happened between them, but tongues speak! - Rhaenyra hissed very rigidly. - Servants hear things and tell each other and before we know it, the royal houses are aware of everything that happens within our walls too!

-Father… - She looked seriously at the throne. - I will not allow my only daughter to be defamed.

Y/n felt tears blurring her vision, prepared to beg her grandfather not to listen to her mother when she demanded Aemond's head or exile.

-I demand that Aemond marry my daughter so that she will not be dishonored! - Rhaenyra growled unyieldingly and Y/n almost froze in shock, barely feeling the tears roll down their cheeks at that moment.

For the first time in that day, Y/n and Aemond's hearts beat in surprise and then in joy.

-What? - Alicent hissed furiously, and Y/n could see from the corner of her eye that Daemon didn't seem happy with the idea either.

The only one in the room besides her and Aemond who seemed happy was Viserys, who upon hearing Rhaenyra's solution seemed to almost shine with a breath of life again.

-I accept the princess's demand.

Alicent's eyes widened as did Oto's upon hearing Viserys speaking, making the decision so seriously and clearly. And before either or both of them could intervene, the morbid king continued.

-It is hereby proclaimed that from this moment on, Aemond of House Targaryen and Y/n of House Velaryon are betrothed and shall be married within a maximum period of three moons from today.

Y/n could very well die of such happiness with those words. And when she looked in Aemond's direction, her heart brightened even more when she saw the almost palpable joy in his eyes, even though his face was serious, and he could hide it from everyone, but Y/n could notice the curve in his serrated lips.

As she left the hall, Y/n could not hear the sounds around her, it was as if a sweet song sounded softly in her ears, bringing her peace of mind while a smile of enchantment hovered on her lips.

She found Jace waiting anxiously outside, not even having been called to say what he had witnessed, she simply hugged him and left a loud kiss on his cheek before walking, still humming, towards her own chambers, being closely followed by a member of the royal guard so as not to stray from the path.

And when a secret passage opened hours later and Aemond appeared inside the room holding a single, slightly wilted daisy in his hands, Y/n ran towards him, hugging him fervently, laughing outrageously when he spun her around in the air, holding her by the waist.

-We're engaged. - He murmured as incredulous as she was, his eyes still shining with that uncontrollable joy. And Y/n just shook her head positively, holding his face between her palms, bringing their foreheads together, still smiling.

Aemond left a soft, sweet kiss on her lips, and carefully placed the daisy behind Y/n's ear when he let her go.

-She remained in the bag, separated from the bouquet. - He smiled, caressing her soft hair with the back of his hand in a reverent way, and Y/n practically trembled with joy at the sound of his voice and his touch.

Hearing footsteps coming down the hallway, Aemond left a sweet kiss on her forehead and disappeared through the secret passage. And when Rhaenyra entered, she only arched her eyebrow when she noticed the slightly wilted flower stuck in her daughter's hair, but decided not to comment.

From then on, the days seemed to pass like the wind in winter. The rest of the family came by ship from Dragon Stone, while the preparations for the wedding were made with all the care in the world, with Y/n smiling and giving her opinion on every detail.

Jace was appalled by everything that had happened. The intention was to disappear with Aemond, not to marry him to his sister. And no matter how much he tried to dissuade his mother, she was adamant about the idea, as for Y/n, she laughed at his expense, constantly emphasizing the great fool he had made.

Letters and more letters with invitations were sent, and as the wedding day approached, nobles from all over the kingdom arrived in Kings Landing to witness the celebration of a marriage that many believed would bring lasting peace to the kingdom.

When the day of the wedding ceremony finally arrived, Y/n could barely breathe. She hadn't been able to see Aemond up close for two weeks, it was to be expected that the bride and groom would be able to spend time together, but she saw him more when they were hidden than now, with so many eyes watching every possible slip-up before the wedding.

Besides the fact that with so many political and royal tasks for both of them before the ceremony, there was barely any time to talk. She couldn't wait to finally be married to him and nobody never be able to separate them again.

That afternoon, when the sun was high in the sky, Princess Y/n Targaryen entered the sept of Baelor in a beautiful white and gold dress, with a radiant smile on her face, and her arms linked to her stepfather, Prince Daemond, who, on the contrary, had a dark frown on her face.

But what caused whispers to take over the sept was the fact that a Targaryen princess, currently considered third in line to the Iron Throne, behind only her mother and older brother, was getting married with her hair loose and a simple crown of daisies braided on her head, with dozens of other daisies sewn onto the train and skirt of the wedding dress..

"A princess marrying with simple weeds on her head!"

Exalted voices whispered through the sept, trying not to be heard.

What none of them knew was that even though he was up to his neck in tasks, Prince Aemond had woken up early that morning riding his horse and headed towards the royal forest just to pick a bouquet of fresh daisies for his future wife, leaving it on the table in her bedroom for her to find when she woke up.

When Y/n woke up that morning, a smile of pure joy took over her lips as she wove the most beautiful flower crown she had ever made in her life to wear at her own wedding. And making the royal seamstress almost growl at her, Y/n ordered the rest of the daisies to be sewn into the train of her wedding dress, only being satisfied when the last of the flowers was attached.

She didn't care about any mocking looks or laughter from the other nobles who spoke of her dress full of weeds. The only eye that mattered was Aemond's, which looked at her wide-eyed and full of happiness so wide that it almost made the already huge smile on her face tear up her cheeks.

When Daemon finally handed her over to Aemond reluctantly, heading to his place next to Rhaenyra, the septon stood up and everyone immediately fell silent as the wedding ceremony began.

The two repeated the septon's words, breathing deeply as they looked at each other in love with an almost childlike happiness overflowing from their eyes.

After uttering their oaths of fidelity and love, Aemond removed a sapphire ring from his cloak, making Y/n's eyes water at the same time while her lips trembled with anticipation.

-Is-Is that the one? - She whispered only for him to hear amidst a trembling smile as she extended her hand to Aemond.

-Mmmm. - He murmured as he nodded positively with a sideways smile. - Exactly the same stone. - He whispered very quietly, but with a palpable pride in his voice. - United forever now, wife.

And under the watchful eyes of the septon and the entire court, Aemond kissed her hand, making her smile beautifully at him, and then he caressed her daisy-scented hair, gently running his thumb over the flower petals.

-Forever now, husband. - She sighed back, laying her head against the palm of his hand and closing her eyes as she felt the soft touch that would forever be hers now, ears ringing moments later with the deafening noise of the court's applause as Aemond finally placed a sweet kiss on her lips, the first they had finally married, the first of the beginning of a lifetime together.

divider credits, It took me hours to find this perfect divider, thank you to the sweet person who created it! 🥰💕

Final notes: I saw somewhere (I don't remember where) that daisies are weeds! And I became obsessed with this fact because I had no idea that a flower that I like so much is considered a weed by many! From this subtle information and the request mentioned here, this story came about! I hope you like it! 💖💖💕🥰

Ps: Aemond only didn't call Jace a bastard on the island because Y/n was there, and he wouldn't be foolish, but know that inside he did! 🤡😂

[klausysworld]

Hey babes, since you didn't update in 5 days im hoping that nothing bad happened to you and that you are alright:(<333

Anyway If not here is an new idea:

So Y/N is an Omega and her Parents don't like her and always been mean to her and abused her and all that yk? When they hear that Klaus who is an alpha seeks an Omega to be his, they try to sell her to him. (I don't know how to write this without it sounding weird but anywaysss) So they make her "perfekt" for him with putting on nice clothes and make up. And teach how she needs to be with her Alpha, which are all things like she needs to listen to him and do as he says and all that stuff. She is scared of what will happen to her since she heard the stories about Klaus.

But when she is with him he treats her so good and is caring and sweet and tells her that everything her parents said and did to her isn't true and that she doesn't have listen to their rules. She is comfortable with him and surprisingly happy and than there is smut and she even let's him mark her. She is happy with him and never wants to be away from him again and is kind of thankful that her parents sold her off.

Just for him

Klaus had been with his fair share of betas over his time, some other alpha as well but not an omega. Omegas needed tending to, attention and affection that he hadn’t been willing to give until now. He was at a time where he didn’t have anything to do, enemies were eliminated and he was in a somewhat healthy position with his family. All he needed was an omega and his days would be perfect.

And it didn’t take long for the word to spread through the supernatural community, all werewolves were informed that Klaus Mikaelson was looking for an omega to claim.

What they didn’t expect was for him to be so picky.

Elijah had been taking phone calls to arrange his brother meeting with omegas and their families to try and find the one best suited for him and they were both losing hope until Y/n’s father called. They painted the perfect picture, a sweet little angel. So Klaus agreed to a meeting and they brought the girl over.

When they arrived at the abattoir the girl was pushed forward, she reeked of fear and anxiety as her big eyes darted in every possible direction. Her hair was down, framing her soft face, her face was smooth with makeup with a pink blush across her nose and cheeks. Her lashes were long and painted black while her lips were pink and glossed.

Klaus’s eyes travelled the length of her, his pupils dilating as he looked over her pink cami dress. Her smooth legs were on display and her small feet were hidden by ankle strap platform heels.

Elijah could feel his lips quirk up slightly at the sight before them and he glanced to Niklaus with interest. They both gave a subtle nod before welcoming the Y/L/Ns inside.

Y/n kept silent the whole afternoon, just like her parents told her to be. Either her mother or father answered any of Klaus’s questions and both were more than eager to convince him she was perfect.

What they didn’t pick up on was how close Klaus was to tearing their throats out for not shutting up. Throughout the afternoon he could sense that it wasn’t just him that y/n was afraid of. He could see her body twitch and shift whenever either of her parents put a hand on her or looked her in the eye, at one point she had shuffled closer to Klaus himself so that her father couldn’t put his arm around her.

His eyes had been checking her all over and after staring at her soft thighs for a considerable amount of time, he eventually noticed small marks. Her dress had accidentally moved up and it barely covered her pretty panties from his view but unfortunately he didn’t catch a peek. What he saw instead were fingertip shaped bruises on her skin. It was her mother who fixed her skirt, a glare on her face when y/n went to open her mouth to apologise.

So he decided he would like to spend the next morning with y/n, alone.

The poor omega looked like she was going to cry when he told her that she would be having brunch with him and only him. As much as she was afraid of her parents, the ruthless Klaus Mikaelson was surely worse.

Nevertheless the next morning she was up and ready. Dressed to impress and waiting for him to come pick her up.

Her parents stood waiting expectantly for the door to knock and were fast on their toes to answer it, bright smiles on their face. Klaus raised a brow and glanced behind them to y/n who was picking at her freshly done nails.

“Come omega” he commanded, watching as she quickly scurried to his side. Her hand hesitantly went to his outstretched one, her eyes not daring to meet his. He hummed lowly and guided her to his car, opening the door for her and watching as a soft blush covered her face. She got into the passenger seat obediently and within a second he was beside her.

The ride was quiet, she could hear her heart pounding as he drove to a cafe.

He turned his head to her as he parked and unclipped his belt. “You don���t have to be so quiet my love” he mumbled whilst reaching forward to let his hand graze her cheek. Her eyes found his as a small whimper left her on response and his lips twitched into a smirk. “You truly are a sweet little omega” he grins and her cheeks redden further.

He shakes his head to himself and reaches for her hand, holding onto it and pulling her along with him into the cafe. “I’m sure you’re hungry sweetheart, you barely ate a thing at dinner” he muses as he leads her to their table and sits her down before seating himself opposite her.

Her big curious eyes dashed around the lounge type room, following the plates of food that the waitresses wore and to the range of guests, all clearly from money.

Klaus watched as she looked back to him quickly, her jaw clenched shut and her nose struggling to breath fast enough. He turned his head slightly and slid the menu across to her “you can have any thing you like, would you like something sweeter like pancakes or waffles or would you prefer something bigger like a full English or an American breakfast?” He pointed to the different sections for her and let her scan through the contents of each offer. Though his eyes narrow when her gaze landed on the sides

“I’ll just have some toast” she uttered reluctantly but he shook his head

“Choose something proper or I’ll pick for you” he commanded, his tone a little rougher as he felt his wolf pushing forward. A low, barely audible whine left her throat as she looked back down to the menu.

When she failed to make a better choice, out of fear of her mother or father finding out of her ‘greedy’ habits, Klaus simply did as promised and ordered her a stack of pancakes with bacon and syrup while getting a full english for himself.

A vanilla milkshake was put infront of her, despite her claiming to want a water and once more her cheeks went a shade pinker. It baffled her how he seemed to know exactly what she wanted and her wolf was slowly warming to his.

Throughout brunch Klaus was able to pull a few conversations out of her, nothing personal otherwise she seemed to shut down but she liked to hear about him and his interests though he had began to wonder if it was genuine interest or what how she was told to behave.

It wasn’t until after he had payed and brought her back to the car did he mention anything of it.

Just as Klaus clipped her belt on for her to ensure her safety did his hand get ahold of her chin to make her look at him. His eyes flashed gold making hers do the same, his irises bled into orange while hers went a pale yellow. He leant forward to brush his nose along the side of her neck, his wolf hungry for her and his mind wandering at the scent of her blood beneath her skin. The primal urge to sink his teeth in and mark her as his own was overwhelming and the way her wolf was responding only added to it. She was so submissive to him, so ready to bend to his every word.

“How long have your parents been training you?” He whispered gruffly and she felt her heart sink. When she didn’t reply he pulled back and tilted his head at her, daring her to speak “omega…”

“Since you started looking” she murmured timidly

“So they made you just for me?” He hummed and tucked her hair behind her ears as she nodded. “You know you don’t have to be so scared” he told her gently as he watched the panic sink in “you’re a very good girl, a very lovely omega but I’m sure you’re even better when you’re being yourself sweetheart” he explained and she nibbled her lip nervously. “I’d like to keep you my love” he muttered and she glanced to his eyes “to be my omega” he confirmed and she nodded slowly. “But I need you to be happy and comfortable, I don’t want my little omega to be afraid and feeling out of place” he murmured softly.

Y/n fiddled with her fingers as she glanced between him and her hands, unsure how to behave. He sighed lightly and stroked her jaw “alright sweetheart, you just sit and ill get us back” he mumbled a little disappointed.

She looked out the window as he got into his own seat and started the car. Her leg bounced through her nerves as she pictured her parents reaction when he told them she wasn’t the omega for him. As they drove nearer and nearer to his mansion she panicked more and more. Her breathing grew more laboured and she felt like the car was growing smaller around her.

Klaus glanced over to her as he heard her heavy breaths before quickly pulling over and unclipping his belt. He sped round to her side of the car and pulled her out of it and into his arms. She panted for air and he smoothed his hand over her hair

“It’s alright my love” he murmured softly “just breathe sweetheart, nice deep breaths” he tried to calm her but it wasn’t working. He bounced her gently almost like a baby as he shushed her softly. “You’re okay” he hummed “nothing’s gonna happen to you” he whispered but her face only seemed to get redder without air. He cupped her head and pushed her face into his neck, letting her nose press to his scent gland.

As though a switch was clicked she was relaxed, inhaling his scent and huffing it back out. Her eyes fluttered shut and a soft moan left her pink lips. Klaus felt a low rumble leave his chest at the sound she released and his body shivered when her open mouth pressed to his neck.

His fingers gripped onto her hair tightly as she sucked the skin into her mouth.“Omega…” he groaned as he felt the wind whip over them as a car sped past. Her legs were round his waist as he clung onto her tightly. “Such…a good omega” he mumbled as her blunt teeth scraped his neck.

Y/n couldn’t help but want to sink her teeth into his skin. His alpha scent was addicting and being this close to him was sending her into complete auto drive.

Klaus stroked her hair gently, encouraging her to sink her teeth into his neck with a grin forming on his face. None of the other omegas he had met with were like this, nowhere near as perfect as she was.

His wolf had chosen hers and she had submitted to it instantly. Already she was seeking comfort from him and a whining mess.

Klaus’s eyes rolled back as he felt her little canines sink into the side of his neck, he squeezed her tight and pressed her up against the door on his car as he felt the gentle burn of the venom in her gums transfer into his bloodstream.

With much reluctance, y/n pulled her mouth away from his neck and began to drop her legs back down to the ground slowly. Her eyes widened as she realised the marks in his skin weren’t fading and hesitantly looked up to his eyes. He looked straight back at her, pupils blown open and fangs visible against his lip. She felt her belly pool with heat at the sight and she began to tilt her head to expose her neck for him.

Klaus didn’t waste another second before pressing his mouth to her throat, licking and nuzzling the flesh before dropping his fangs into her. Her moan was heavenly and encouraged him to take a gulp of her blood. The taste was intoxicating and his entire body was filled with a pleasant buzz as his hand began to grope alone her thighs.

Both minds fell to autopilot as he pulled back and her legs dropped down from his waist. She was turned around and bent straight over the hood of the car. Klaus ground his front against her soft little ass, his hands dragging the skirt of her dress up to reveal her cotton panties. He let out a groan before sinking his teeth back into her neck from behind, then her shoulder and her back, covering her in bite marks.

Y/n was a babbling, panting mess, her body rubbing itself against Klaus’s dick like a horny puppy. Her omega mind was completely in control as whimpered pleas fell from her lips, begging him to claim her right there.

Klaus wasn’t in any more control to deny her, his fingers snapping the elastic in her panties and throwing them to the road, his darkening eyes finding her bare ass and soaked pussy as he crouched down to get a look at her.

Y/n let out a pleasured cry when his warm mouth pressed to her cunt, her nails dug into the metal she was sprawled over and her legs began to shake. She moaned loudly for her alpha, begging and begging for more.

Klaus lapped like a dog, his tongue twisting and folding to devour her. His hands held her ass to give himself the best access and he sucked and fucked her weeping hole with his his face. Her little nails elongated to form her wolf’s claws as she cling to the car, her moans and cries were echoed out into the road and nearby trees but she didn’t care. All she knew was that whatever this feeling was, she was addicted to it.

Her hips ground herself onto his mouth, her body trembling and screaming for him to keep going. She let out a loud, incoherent sound as she felt something much more urgent flood her, begging to be reached.

Klaus could feel her body struggling to hold onto the building feeling. His tongue plunged into her repeatedly, taking enjoyment in her cries and the way her little cunt would tighten. It only took a few more sucks and licks at her pulsing clit before her legs went out and he help her firmly against the car as a rush of wetness was squirted all over him.

Klaus let out a grunt and a laugh when he pulled his face back to look at the mess, wiping his face with his sleeve and watching her limp thighs drip. “Perfect. Fucking. Omega” he growled as he stood up and ripped his belt off.

Y/n was panting softly, her breath creating a wet circle on the car as she pressed her cheek against the top. A small whimper left her when a car drove past, the drivers eyes wide as they sped by.

She felt his hands hold onto her hips, lifting her so she was bend further over the hood so her toes couldn’t reach the ground. Her lashes fluttered and a breath of air left her lungs as she felt something nice and thick press against her cunt.

“Alpha…” she whined and Klaus hummed deeply

“It’s alright omega, it’ll feel so good” he whispered as he thrust his hips forward. A sharp noise left her at the stretch. Klaus’s head threw back as he forced his cock all the way inside. His hand gently stroked her back as he heard her little sobs “it’s okay” he murmured “you’ll feel better in a moment I’m certain” he soothed.

Her pussy squeezed and pulsated around his cock, clinging to him desperately. She slowly felt the sting disappear and was left with a full feeling. Klaus sensed her calming and gently traced the teeth marks in her skin. “good girl” he whispered as he slowly began to move within her.

Her body relaxed entirety when he started thrusting into her, her cries became soft little moans and her eyes closed.

Klaus could feel his wolf sit right at the front of his mind, claiming her now as his. Klaus could feel the need to breed her full of his pups overwhelm his body.

His hips snapped to hers quickly, her hot pussy swallowing his cock more and more with each thrust. Her moans grew more frequent and her body rocked back and forth slowly to feel him hit deeper.

His hands caressed her hips gently as he groans loudly. “Such a good omega” he praises making her whimper happily.

“More” she whined and he grinned, moving fast and harder, causing the car to shake beneath her. He moved his hand around her waist, sliding it down to stroke his fingers against her slippery clit.

Y/n let out a loud cry at the familiar build up of heat. She looks over her shoulder to see her alpha pounding into her. Dark veins travel under his golden eyes as he looked to her. His lips parted to pant and he smiled to her, his spare hand pet her hair gently. A grunt left his lips when she tightened around him and he pressed his fingers down a little harder as she ground her clit against them.

Her sweaty hands left marks against the hood of the car and her body felt hotter with each passing second. Klaus could feel her squeezing his swelling cock every few seconds, her puffy clit pulsating and her thighs trembling. He could feel the marks in his neck burn pleasantly and knew she could feel the same from her own mating marks as a pleasant purr rolled through her body.

Mumbled moans tumbled from her lips clumsily as her mind completely clouded over. She muttered incoherently as she felt his cock spill inside her. He rubbed her clit quickly, his other hand gently sliding down to her ass as he moving his hips a little slower as his sensitivity skyrocketed.

He smiled lazily to himself at the coked sound she let out as her pussy spasmed around him. He pet her ass gently, gradually reducing his thrusts and pulling himself out. Klaus let her rest against the car for a moment, grinning as another car went by and offering a finger wave to the passengers.

He hummed to himself as he pulled his trousers back up and grabbed his belt from the floor. He fixed himself up before picking up on the sniffles of his omega. He frowned and noticed her still over the car, he quickly lifted her up.

“Sweetheart” he whispered, his hand cupping face to see the tears gathered in her eyes. “Oh dear” he uttered, quickly pulling her face to his neck again and kissing her forehead “what’s wrong omega? Does it sting?” He questioned and she shook her head

“My mother’s going to be so mad” she whispered, looking to her underwear that resided on the dirty road. Klaus smiled gently and pet her cheek

“No she won’t my love, she’ll be very proud of what a good girl you’ve been for your alpha” he told her and she sniffed “I’m gonna get rid of those worthless parents of yours my lovely, and then you’re going to stay with me forever” he whispered “gonna look after you and our babies, bet you’ll give me strong alpha pups” he cooed and she smiled slightly while wiping her eyes.

“my alpha?” She whispers quietly and he nods

“All yours little one, yours forever” he confirms as he carries her back into the car and sits her on his lap. “Gonna have to buy you so many dresses my lovely, and so many pairs of panties for me to rip up” he teased and she blushed. He stroked her hair gently with one hand while the other drove the car back to his mansion.

His siblings only smiled as he walked past them with her hidden in his arms, he took her up the stairs and into an empty room. He opened the wardrobe in the corner and dozens of soft materials fell out. Her eyes sparkled at the sight and he set her down on her feet

“You stay here and build your pretty nest and I’ll go take care of your parents okay sweet omega?” He smiled and she nodded with a bright smile as she grabbed one of the fleeces.

He kissed the top of her head before jogging down the stairs to sort everything out for his little omega to live a safe and happy life.

[tkaulitzlvr]

hii, hope you’re doing well :) love your stories <3

ofc you absolutely don’t have to write this one if you don’t want to!

just had a lil thought of some form of enemies to lovers with tom (2009-11) where reader travels with the band on tour & etc & one night while they stay at a hotel somewhere reader is in the pool at night (in like a bikini or some form of swimwear) for like a midnight swim but at some point tom gets in as-well & it’s just them (they can have some bickering or whatever) but it would eventually result in them doing it in the pool 🤭

again you don’t have to do this one if you don’t want to buy i just thought i would ask :)

ty for reading!!

LATE NIGHT - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: you and tom had never got on well, some unresolved tension meaning the two of you always clashed. so, when you decide to go for a late night swim alone, what will happen when tom has the exact same idea?

content: angst & smut

a/n: omggg this might be my fav request i’ve ever gotten so thank u sm anon, literally screamed when it came thru this whole scenario is so perfect, as u can imagine i enjoyed every second of writing this, hope u enjoy!!

the night is warm, this totally expected for august in southern spain, where tokio hotel were for this part of their world tour. adjusting to the different climates that i experience around the world is something i am yet to get used to, even after coming with the band since they had started accumulating the fans to warrant travelling from country to country to perform. one day, i would be in somewhere in russia, completely submerged in blankets and still cold, then the next, i would be met with the sweltering warmth of southern europe, overheating despite my clear lack of clothing, only my bra and panties covering me. but tonight, the heat was unbearable, my body sweating no matter what position i tried to fall asleep in.

the rhythmic ticking of the small clock situated on the wall in front of me didn’t help - the sound seeming to get louder each time, the time that it displays reminding me that i should be sleeping. but, i know that it isn’t going to happen anytime soon, sitting up frustratedly with a loud sigh.

i stand up, walking toward the large glass doors leading to my balcony, pushing one open slightly so that i can squeeze through. it is even hotter outside, my body being hit by an intense surge of heat as i step onto the balcony, nearing the edge. my arms rest on the railing, eyes taking in the view in front of me - thousands of lights in each direction from the city ahead. however this doesn’t catch my attention as my eyes fall to the large pool below, a decent sized jacuzzi built into it. it is empty, the body of water completely still, small lights around it’s exterior giving away its tranquility. it could cool me down - there’s no way i’m falling asleep with my body this hot.

my feet turn on their heels, stepping back inside my room, closing the glass door behind me as i head to the small walk in closet in the corner. my hands fumble around, fingers finally touching the small bikini that i am looking for. i take it out, stripping from my clothes, before slipping on the skimpy red bikini, tying my hair in a loose bun. i take a towel from the bathroom, sliding on the first pair of sandals i see, before quietly exiting my hotel room and walking to the elevator, entering it as it is expectedly empty.

the elevator doors slide open as i am met with the empty lobby, the receptionist being the only person in sight. i give her a small nod, walking outside to the pool area. as i near closer, i sigh in relief, seeing that it is still empty, placing my towel on a random lounger. i slide my shoes off beside it, walking towards the pool. testing the temperature, i dip my toes in, shivering slightly at the coldness, the feeling relieving me as i already feel myself cool down. deciding that it is fine to get in, i allow my whole body to slip into the water, my head staying above as i begin to swim over to the shallow end, finally stopping once i reach the edge.

my eyes glance over to the jacuzzi just a few metres away, contemplating whether it would be a better option than the pool. it would certainly make me sleepier, and, reminding myself of how late it is, i decide to get in, quickly stepping out of the pool and climbing into the jacuzzi. the water is much warmer, bubbles emerging from beneath as i take a seat, my entire body relaxing. i feel myself becoming tired as i spread out, laying my head backwards and resting it on the edge. my eyes gaze aimlessly at the stars above, feeling completely content, the water removing any tension in my body as i continue to watch the sky.

but, it only takes a few minutes for my head to whip upwards, becoming quickly alert as i hear footsteps nearing the pool, wondering who else would want to be here this late into the night.

i squint a little, trying to make out the silhouette , an audible groan escaping my lips once it enters the light, letting me work out who it is. broad shoulders, slim yet muscular frame, lips adorned with a single metal piercing - i could recognise him from anywhere. the familiar jet black braids move toward me, a confused expression taking over his face once he spots me.

“the fuck are you doing here?” he asks, setting his towel down and pulling his t-shirt off, revealing his perfectly formed abs, muscles in his biceps flexing as he does so. he was hot, but i hated him, his attractiveness only making me despise him more. after my gaze lingers on his torso for a couple seconds, i look upwards, seeing that he is still focused on me, waiting for a response as he walks towards the jacuzzi.

i roll my eyes, beginning to get up, not willing to engage in any conversation with him right now, especially one in which no one else is involved, the atmosphere already tense.

“doesn’t matter. i’ll go.” i say, standing up, water dripping from my body. his eyes scan my figure, tongue poking from his lips slightly as he messes with his lip piercing, drinking in every curve, my boobs admittedly almost spilling out of my bikini top. yet i didn’t care when i had put it on, not expecting to see anyone else at the pool, let alone tom. his eyes still glued to my cleavage, i scoff, putting one foot out of the jacuzzi.

“my eyes are up here, perv.” i remark as he finally removes his gaze from my chest, a small laugh leaving his lips.

“don’t flatter yourself sweetheart.” he states, stepping into the jacuzzi, sitting down as the water covers most of his body, the top of his chest still on show. he stretches his arms out to the side of him, resting them on the edge, tilting his head to the side before continuing. “why are you leaving?”

“cause i know you’ll piss me off. you already are.” i respond, standing beside the water, preparing to walk away.

“really? don’t be so dramatic. get in.” he says, lifting one hand up and motioning to the empty space in the jacuzzi opposite him, his eyes not leaving mine.

“i’ll pass. have fun tom.” i say sarcastically, finding my towel on the lounger, wrapping it around my small frame, now shivering from the lack of warmth the water had brought me.

“you know, to say you’re the most stubborn person i know.” he starts, his tongue running across his bottom lip. “you’re leaving pretty fast. how come you’re letting me win so easily?”

i stop in my tracks, turning around to face him, wondering why he is so eager for me to stay.

“why do you care?” i question, my expression turning sour.

“i don’t.” he shrugs. “just don’t understand why you’re in a rush to leave. you’re not scared of me, are you?”

i scoff at his question, noting the way he is trying to get under my skin, and, much to my frustration, it is working. i know that if i leave, that means i have let him win. and, he is right. i am stubborn. it is this fact that prompts me to turn around, throwing the towel off of my body as i walk towards the jacuzzi, hesitantly getting back into it as a satisfied grin spreads across tom’s face.

“scared my ass.” i mutter, shaking my head as i fold my arms, irritated by his ability to anger me from the smallest of words.

“hm? sorry, didn’t catch that. you gotta speak up.” he taunts, tilting his head as he raises his eyebrows, a knowing smirk tugging on his lips. he stretches his arms out further as they rest against the stone decorating the edge of the water, adjusting his position and getting comfy, awaiting my response.

“just shut up. jesus fucking christ.��� i scold, facing away from him, tempted to get up and leave once again. but i can’t give him that satisfaction, so i stay put, a tense silence between us as he surprisingly listens to me.

my body jolts upwards in shock, feeling his foot brush against mine from underneath the water as he sinks further into it. i make eye contact, scowling at him as he holds his hands up in defense.

“sorry.” he mumbles, his body slowly drifting closer towards mine. i ignore it, letting my head fall backwards, attempting to relax, figuring that if i am stuck here with him, i may as well try to make the experience as comfortable as it can be.

but the second his leg brushes against mine, with too much force to be unintentional, it is clear that his previous movement was definitely not an accident. i look at him, seeing that he has moved much closer, now to the left of me, instead of directly opposite me as he previously was. i stay quiet, trying to pay no attention to his presence despite the noticeable feeling of his eyes burning into my figure.

“red looks good on you.” he says into the silence, my eyebrows furrowing in disbelief, unable to fall for his attempt at complimenting me.

“what?” i ask, now turning to face him, his eyes dark.

“you know what i said.” he states confidently, gaze never leaving mine as his teeth momentarily sink into his bottom lip.

his body inches closer to mine as my own is frozen in place, unable to move or even comprehend what is happening. his finger grazes the knot of my costume from beneath the water, slipping underneath the material briefly before playing with the hem of my bikini bottoms, my hips jolting a little at his touch. he smirks at my reaction, removing his fingers and watching the way my face drops, partly in disappointment.

he sees the desperation in my eyes, dipping his head downwards so that his lips are just below my ear.

“you know you don’t hate me at much as you let out.” he whispers, his breath tickling my neck as i feel him smile against it, goosebumps beginning to form over the skin.

my mouth parts open, no sound escaping from it as my chest rises and falls at a faster pace, completely flustered by his words. he can clearly see this, humming lowly as his face remains inches away from my neck, his slow breathing fanning over it.

“in fact…” he begins, his lips brushing over the skin as he dips his head further downwards. “i don’t think you hate me at all, do you?”

i say nothing, breath hitching once his lips finally make contact with my neck, planting slow, open-mouthed kisses over it. my hands find the back of his head, fingers playing with his dreads as i push him further into me, his kisses become sloppy, his teeth grazing over the skin.

“knew you always had something for me, sweetheart.” he teases, hands grabbing the flesh of my thighs as he uses them to guide my body, placing me on his lap. my chest is now out of the water, lower half completely submerged as it sits on top of him, faces inches apart.

he takes my lack of response as an invitation to continue, attaching his lips to mine in a rough and sloppy kiss. i waste no time in kissing back, overcome with an unforeseen desperation, my hatred for him fuelling desire from within me that had never been ignited - not like this. but i used my anger towards him, keeping it as a motive to kiss him harder, pressing my lips harsher into his. he groans into my mouth, his hands finding my ass as he kneads the flesh, using it to push my hips against his, my lips faltering against him.

the heat around me from the warmth of the night is now nothing compared to the one spreading between my legs, my need for tom only growing as i begin to create my own slow rhythm on his lap, grinding so that his clothed dick, which i can feel hardening beneath me, hits my clit perfectly.

my head falls backwards, unable to kiss back as my hips continue to work against his. his lips find my chest, biting and sucking on the parts of my breasts exposed, my nipples hardening under the fabric of my bikini. he sees this, his fingers running over them as i shudder. his hands reach to undo the knot holding my bikini in place, about to tug on it before i protest.

“you can’t…” i breathe out, not slowing my movements. “someone could see.”

“but they won’t.” he states, keeping his head against my chest, hands staying on my back. “you just have to stay close to me, yeah?”

he tugs on the material, watching as the top half of my bikini falls off, revealing my chest to him. a smirk spreads across his face as he takes it all in, hands cupping my boobs as he squeezes them a little, a low whine falling from my lips in response.

“so fucking hot.” he breathes out, detaching his hands from my breasts, moving them to my back and pulling my chest so it is flush against his. “see? no one but me gets to see. exactly how it should be.”

he whispers the last part as i roll my eyes, becoming visibly impatient. he picks up on this, bucking his hips as i rest my hands on his chest, lifting myself off of him as he takes off his trunks, letting them rest at his knees, not bothering to remove them fully. he moves my panties to the side, the water rushing to my heat as i shudder a little.

he strokes himself a few times, positioning himself at my entrance. “you sure?”

his hands rest on my lower back, looking upwards at me, his expression strangely concerned, my consent mattering to him way more than i had first anticipated. i nod my head, letting out a confident ‘yes’.

that is enough for him as he slowly pushes inside of me, the water giving a foreign feeling as my thighs clench. he lets out a long groan, watching the way my mouth falls open, eyes screwing shut. i feel his tip bottom out inside of me, my walls stretched out further than they ever had been, none of the guys that i had been with being as big as tom. though the discomfort soon subsides, my face twisting in pressure as i nod slowly, giving him the green light as he begins to thrust upwards into me at a steady pace.

“where did the stubbornness go, hm?” he teases, knowing that my entire body is there for him to ruin, long past the point when i would argue with him. “thought i pissed you off, doesn’t look like it right now.”

i let out a loud moan, that the only sound i am able to make as he is hitting angles that have never been felt before, no one ever able to make me feel like this. hell, if i had known his dick was this good, i would’ve stopped hating him years ago. his tip brushes against my sensitive spot, my walls clenching around him as i squeeze my lips shut, trying to stay quiet as i silently remind myself of where we are - anyone able to catch us right now.

“you like that, huh?” he asks, repeatedly hitting the spot over and over as i bury my face into his shoulder, biting it roughly to keep the moans at bay, feeling them dangerously close in the back of my throat. “don’t hide those pretty moans, wanna hear them baby.”

his hands push me away from his shoulder, my head now upright as i can no longer contain my moans, letting them pour from my lips, tom nodding his head slowly.

desperate to reach my climax, i meet his thrusts, hips rotating in an attempt to increase the friction. this clearly has as much of an effect on tom as it does me, his head tilting backwards as he lets out a low groan.

“just like that baby. fuck- yeah, keep going.” he praises, this only fuelling my stamina, his thrusts becoming slow and weak as he lets me do most of the work.

the knot in my stomach tightens, so much that i know i cannot hold on any longer. tom’s hands squeeze my waist, fingers and nails digging in, the slight pain mixed with pleasure turning me on even more.

“getting close.” i manage to say, bringing my lips to messily collide with his, my movements sloppy and uneven. he kisses back, groaning into my mouth as he slips his tongue in. he starts thrusting upwards at a rapid pace, my ability to kiss back faltering as i feel him twitch inside of me.

“me too. cum with me, yeah?” he says against my lips, one harsh thrust into me all it takes for me to come undone, feeling him shoot his load into me. he moves in and out slowly, fucking it into me, his teeth firmly sinking into his lip as his eyebrows knit together. i collapse into his chest, breathing fast and shallow as my entire body shakes, his thrusts coming to a stop, yet he remains inside of me. his lips lazily kiss my shoulder, hands rubbing my back.

“why didn’t we do that sooner, hm?”

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[melrosing]

I really want sansa to meet brienne to see what she thinks of her. both bc she’ll meet the “true knight” she’s been praying for :’) and also bc brienne will challenge her views of women’s role in society. but what do you think brienne would think of sansa ?

yes i'm really looking forward to it too! I think I wrote something about this a couple years ago but their stories click together in such a sweet way.

Sansa entered the world thinking that beauty = virtue, and received such a harsh awakening that she's unsure whether there is any goodness left in the world. and Brienne has likewise insisted to herself that there is, and yet finds it's not always enough to defeat the horror of it all. I think in TWOW she's going to find herself in a similar position to a young Jaime, feeling somewhat nihilistic. I like the idea that their oath to Catelyn ultimately saves both Jaime and Brienne from this outlook - they both mean to see it fulfilled, no matter how bad things get.

so Sansa and Brienne kind of find each other at precisely the right time. Sansa is falling deeper into Littlefinger's machinations and losing sight of who she is, in the midst of all he wants her to be. life isn't so much a song anymore, but something more cynical. meanwhile Brienne is finding that the world is so much darker that she'd believed, and that good intentions aren't enough to save it.

but i think they can save each other in a way that noone else really could! where Brienne and Sansa have reminded Jaime and Sandor respectively that true knighthood exists, they're now at a point where they can remind one another of that.

Sansa will see again that true knighthood doesn't look as she once thought it did, but that it nonetheless exists. I think that through getting to know Brienne, she might also feel closer to Arya, realising that the differences between them aren't so great a chasm. Brienne's chafing with society might remind her of her sister too, and help her consider a different perspective so that there's a new openness when they meet again. and also I really really want Brienne to be able to tell Sansa how much Catelyn was thinking of her and how badly she wanted to be reunited.... like Sansa hasn't received any true empathy for the loss of her mother, and now here's Brienne who has mourned Cat herself and can offer true comfort to Sansa.... i cry

and then for Brienne's part, I really want Bri to have the satisfaction of knowing that she's fulfilling her oath to Cat, that she wasn't a fool to believe she could, and that in so doing she's found a girl who, though outwardly very different, is a lot like Bri herself. they both love songs and knights and want to believe the world is kind, and they can prove to each other that it is. and also Brienne has often experienced contempt from other girls and women (Cat was one of the few who didn't treat her with such), so I think it'll be nice for her to have a meaningful relationship with a new female character, and to feel accepted and respected by that person. idk I just feel like Sansa represents so much closure for Brienne and that they can really fortify each other.

that said I do think they'll initially be very confused and sceptical of each other lol, like Sansa is in disguise and has had to ally herself closely to Littlefinger, so she's going to struggle to open up to a stranger, much less go off with them. and Bri's going to wonder who the hell Alayne Stone is and also... apparently she's fine here in the Vale? i imagine lots of miscommunication where maybe Brienne has come all this way only for Sansa to be like... you can leave I have this under control.

but Brienne knows who Shadrich is so I imagine she can prove herself to Sansa by taking him out in some kind of mini boss, and then we know that GRRM's notes for AFFC said that Sansa will resolve at the end of her Vale arc to be Sansa Stark, and take the North. so can imagine Brienne helping her to return home, and secure Winterfell. the North will have lost the figurehead they'd believed to be Arya (but who was ofc Jeyne), who had kind of rallied them together... and I think Sansa's return will be where they find a new one out of left field. the kid they considered lost to the south, but who is returning north, maybe with the might of the Vale to help secure it once more. idk.

in any case, I've believed that Brienne and Jaime holding the two halves of Ice represent the fact that they will be helping to secure Winterfell again, and the futures of the Stark children. have said before that I do not see Brienne as a perpetual bodyguard for any Stark kid, but restoring them is a big part of her role for the remaining two books imo. I'd really like to see her meet Arya as well, I think the two will have really great rapport.

anyway that was a long answer but yeah in short. im excited about them.

[lightwing-s]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢 ; 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: a helping hand turns an enemy into a friend for one single night of truce. one single night that ends up redefining their entire relationship, the start of where everything is about to change.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: 6,4k warnings: mentions of heavy drinking, sex, p in v, oral (female receiving), fingering, language, size kink, breast play, male dominance, jason's sex stimulated superiority complex

a/n: the fact this was supposed to be way longer scared me of how many chapters i might need to end this series lol. and i tried making it possible to read without the context of the series for those who just want to read a nice smut lol. also, thank you for all the support thus far, it has been incredible seeing so many people invested in this story and wanting to see its development. thank you thank you thank you for supporting this silly writer's dream. ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

Thanks, man. Have a good night. Shutting the door closed behind him, Jason thanked the driver before he watched his Uber ride drive his car away, turning the corner and leaving the street he was left on. The night was cold and dark, the faint lighting of the streetlamp doing nothing to provide him a clear view of his ambiance, instead, all was gloom.

 Standing on the sidewalk in front of his apartment building, he let out a deep, long sigh. It was late, really late, past 1am the last time he checked, and the weight of the alcohol in his system begged him to find his way to bed. But the soft, barely audible, breaths of the lady behind him reminded Jason he still had a task ahead: getting you to his apartment.

As a strong wind blew past him, he zipped his jacket up, protecting himself from the unusually chilly night, for this time of the year at least, and turned on his heels to find you resting against the stony wall of the old structure, eyes narrowly managing to remain open. You felt the weather as much as he did, hugging yourself to acquire some type of warmth despite your inappropriate attire.

Carefully, he approached your sleepy frame and guided you inside, a hand placed on your back the entire walk up the stairs. Jason’s building was old, but well maintained.  Meaning, it looked decent for all the decades it’d been through, but didn’t have an elevator casting on whoever lived on the last floor (Jason) the curse to climb all the way up every single day.

Already struggling due to the alcohol and tiredness, halfway through your journey you let out a moan without realizing. Your pace grew slower, and you lacked the effort to simply lift your legs and place your foot on the next step.

“Come on, love. We’re getting closer.” Jason said, pausing right behind you. He had to hold his laugh as you turned back to face him, eyes watery and lips sticking out in a pout.

“Why didn’t we use the elevator? Do you hate me?” you cried.

“Not everyone has daddy’s money to afford an apartment with an elevator,” he joked, but your response caught him by surprise, as your face crunched into a sort of angry expression mixed with a tint of sadness.

“I’m not… I…” you tried to mumble out, but failed countless times. “My feet hurt!”

Sighing deeply once more, he pushed you up by your waist, hands placed safely around you but alway mindful of its position. As you reached the next floor, you thanked your slow mind tonight for not allowing a scream to leave your mouth when Jason grabbed your legs and lifted you up so he could carry you to his apartment.

You had to say, it should’ve surprised you that he carried you with what seemed like a total lack of effort on his part, like you weighed nothing. However, you knew him. You knew he spent countless hours training at the gym, to the point you often wondered if he didn’t live there as well. That he’d often pass you carrying up to eight different weight plates in one single trip to use in his next exercise.

It did surprise you he could carry you. It surprised you he actually did it.

On his arm, the sweet coconut smell reached your nose, and you had to hold yourself from feeling sick. The alcohol was doing its job on you, and gosh you hated it. Tiredness taking over, you rested your head on his shoulder and fought against yourself to keep your eyes open.

“How much do you lift?” you mumbled a question, poking the bicep within your reach. You felt his breath hit your skin as he let out a soft chuckle.

“A lot more than you weight.” he stated, and continued his climb silently until you two were inside his deliciously warm and scrupulously tidy apartment. “Come,” he called after you when your feet were back on the ground. You followed him through the darkened living room until he opened a door and turned the light on in his bedroom. “You can sleep here, I’ll take the sofa.”

Your polite and sober side wanted to complain, to offer to sleep on the sofa instead, but your drunk and seriously exhausted one just wanted to throw yourself on the bed. Accepting the drunk side’s victory, you sat down with a noise and laid on his bed, eyes closing soon after, but being forced to open as you felt the mattress sink right beside you.

Struggling to lift your head, you found Jason bent down to catch your feet, loosening the laces of your converse and helping you take them off. “Thank you,” you whispered, eyes closed as you sat up again and started to unhook your bra from beneath your shirt.

Jason got nervous, eyes quickly shifting from you to the floor, not knowing what to do. Pulling your bra off through one of your sleeves, he took it as his key to leave you alone before you could start stripping off your pants too. Standing up, he reached the bedroom door just as you were climbing under the duvet, head laying on the pillow with eyes already closed. 

He knew that, in your state, it wouldn’t be long before you were in deep slumber. So, turning off the lights, peeking at you one last time, he closed the door behind him. Careful to not make any noise. Careful not to wake you up. Unaware of the smile gracing his lips.

It’d been well over an hour since you had fallen asleep. The darkness still loomed outside, but the dim lighting of Jason’s side table lamp illuminated his living room, casting a shadow upon his body.

Jason couldn’t fall asleep, for some reason. He had tried lying down and forcing his eyes closed, had tried listening to whale sounds, rain sounds, brown, blue, black, white, purple noises. Nothing. Nothing seemed to put him to bed, not even his half drunk state.

So, feeling exhausted, he stood up from the sofa and went to the small kitchen to make himself some tea, hoping it would help him give in to sleep. He tried to be quiet, mindful of his guest still sleeping in his bed, filled his red mug with the tea and returned to the sofa, sitting beside his also sleeping kitten, whose snores were too loud for a beast of his size. 

The drink was warm, and the taste pleased him just enough. He immediately felt more relaxed, letting the warmth fill his entire body, as he laid back onto the sofa and he could really feel like he was starting to rest.

On the other hand, you woke up confused. It was dark, and the pillows were comfortable, but they didn’t smell like your soap, nor did you find your childhood plush toy just within reach on your bed. Suddenly sober, you almost jumped off the bed before the memories started flooding your mind.

Shit. You definitely weren’t home, and this home certainly wasn’t from someone you wished it was. Slowly, you remembered Jason helping you take your shoes off, remembered him helping you up the infinite stairs of his building. And gosh, you remembered his damned smirk while he flirted with you.

You were pissed. P-i-s-s-e-d. Pissed. Why did you do that, Yn? Why did you end up here? Where the fuck did Nessie go to and why didn’t you go home?

In the darkness, you felt your feet touch the cold wooden tiles and you had to bring them back up quickly, not expecting the chilly night weather, but soon remembering how cold you’d felt just before coming to his apartment. 

Your bare legs were feeling it too, and you struggled to find your pair of jeans. It wasn’t anywhere, goddamn it. There was no way you’d go out in only your shirt. You had to find something, and remembering you were in a 6 foot tall monster, you knew he ought to have something around. 

Blindly skirmishing through the room, you felt the soft cotton fabric of what seemed to be a hoodie and put it on. It fit largely on you, the hem falling on the middle of your thighs, and the strong smell of perfume lingering from it.

With light footsteps, you got to the door. Twisting the handle with care, you heard the cracking sound of the door as you opened it, exposing the dimly lit living room. Jason heard the same cracking sound you did, his head jolting back so fast he felt the muscles on his neck aching. 

There you were, hidden behind the door, a string of light illuminating your shape. You still looked sleepy, your cheeks puffed, and the minimum makeup you wore looked smashed on your face. But then, his eyes fell on your body, how your legs were bare and you somehow wore his favorite red hoodie.

Wow. Just, wow!

“Hey” he greeted, waving awkwardly in your direction. You only offered him a shy, toothless smile, eyes scanning the room and landing everywhere but him. “Did I wake you?” he asked, voice tinged by worry.

“No,” you shook your head, meeting his eyes for a brief while. His stare gave you goosebumps, and you returned your eyes to the floor, the tiling giving you more comfort. “I just… woke up.”

An awkward silence fell before you, neither brave enough to look at the other. The air was warm, you didn’t know if it was a sudden weather change or if it was the lingering tension between you two.

“I,” you started, and he immediately looked at you. “I think I’m gonna head home.” you announce, trying to return to the safety of his bedroom.

“No way,” he denied. “It’s almost 4am, Yn. There’s no way I’m letting you out this late. I’m sorry, I just can’t.”

Sighing, you accepted defeat without even trying to counter argue, aware his decision was well intended, and you too didn’t feel like facing the gloomy and dangerous streets of Gotham at this hour of the night. So, you just nodded, looking back into the room without moving your feet.

“Can I give you something?” he then questioned. “I mean. Do you want anything? Food, water?” Like clockwork, your stomach roared, making your cheeks go red and a smirk to appear on Jason’s face. “I don’t have much in my pantry, but I can make you a sandwich.”

Standing up, he walked to the kitchen once again, mug in hand being left on the sink. He seemed to move around the small area seamlessly, his bigger size never slowing him down. He opened cabinets, taking out of it a couple of dishes and a bag with a long and crusty baguette. Slicing the bread in half and then open, he set it on the plates, spreading butter on top and fishing for the other ingredients from various parts of the kitchen.

“I’m not a chef, you know,” Jason told you while he fished for the cheese, the ham, the vegetables and something else from the fridge. In normal human arms, they’d probably have fallen due the lack of space, but they all seemed to fit in pretty well in his much larger ones. “But I do enjoy cooking sometimes.”

His whole energy levels seemed to rise, and a sparkle tingled in his eyes. He seems to really enjoy it, you thought, watching the scene unfold from the same spot under the doorframe you were not even two minutes before. He was swift, picking things up and down , left and right, with ease and started constructing a delicious looking late night meal.

With watchful steps, you walked closer, something in you wanting to watch him in action from up close. Too enticed by the way he moved, the way he meticulously cut the tomatoes, a green vegetable, that you didn’t recognize due to your total lack of cooking skills, and the garlic before shoving them on a blender. The noise that proceeded, a disturbance of the silence that reigned on the night, but when it ceased, the smell that spread across the room seemed all worth it.

Continuing his craft, he was swift, picking things up and down with ease, spreading butter on the bread, adding cheese, sliced turkey from the smell of it, and the tomatoes. He grilled it on a pan he had started to heat while he assembled your snacks, and shortly after, placed a plate with the sandwich in front of you on the kitchen island.

“I didn’t know if you liked pesto, so I left it here for you to dip in if you want.” he stated, placing a small bowl with the green sauce he’d blended together earlier.

“Wow,” was all you could manage to say, the sandwich’s look worthy of those pins you’d constantly save on Pintrest but never make it yourself. Picking it up with one hand, you wanted to try it first on its own, your stomach getting louder, apparently aware you were just about to fill it and getting anxious over the masterpiece crafted just before your eyes. “Hmmm,” you hummed loudly, closing your eyes and enjoying the taste, your mouth already watering for one more bite.

You heard Jason’s breathy laugh, and your attention was instantly brought back to him. Supported by his elbows on the marble island, he sat beside you, his side profile a beautiful view from where you stood. He had a smirk on his lips, not smug or annoying or flirtatious like he usually had, but a lighthearted and fun one. One that didn’t drive you insane.

Looking at him, though, side by side with you, after making you a sandwich at almost 4am in the morning, you felt a lump on your throat you could not explain or justify. It was something no one had ever done for you and for some reason you wanted to cry. But you wouldn’t, instead, opting to do the sanest thing anyone could do in your position.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, his eyes darting to yours and his eyebrows doing their annoying move and lifting up in question. “For everything. Tonight, especially, but at the hospital too. You were really kind and you didn’t have to do either of those things. So, thank you, really.”

A smile you could not decipher clouded his lips, and his eyes shone with a glint of mischievousness you could not mistake. “Say it again?” he joked, and you had to roll your eyes.

“Jerk.”

“Sounds more like you,” he sneered, finally taking a bite out of his sandwich. He dipped it in the sauce, taking another bite, and you took your time admiring his jaw clenching as he chewed. “But you don’t need to thank me. I hurt you that day and it was the polite thing to do. And I couldn’t just leave you drunk at the party, it didn’t seem right.”

“Why not?” you questioned. “There were many other drunk girls at the party.”

“Yeah, but none of them looked like they didn’t belong there,” he stated, soon regretting letting those words out of his lips. He knew it’d bring out more questions, and he didn’t want to spend his night explaining how you would linger in his head on a daily basis.

“Why not?” If Jason wasn’t so tired, he’d notice you’d felt insulted.

“I don’t mean today,” he said, playing with the sauce with his sandwich. “You were having fun today, but I’ve seen you before…”

“Why?” you insisted impatiently.

“Because people go to parties for either or two things: to have fun with their friends or to find a hookup,” he lifted two of his long fingers to you. “That day, you were clearly alone. You stood to the side all night, not talking to anyone, almost barking at whoever came closer. Option one impossible. And you also weren’t exposing too much skin to fit into the other.”

“I was having fun tonight!” you tried to argue.

“Yeah, but your friend had disappeared. And you were too drunk. I couldn’t leave you there, alone to the wolves,” he concluded, staring deep into your eyes. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if I did.”

He seemed honest. And nice. Actually nice, like, he looked like a decent person, not the one you villainized in your thoughts every day. He was nice, a sweetheart, and a great cook if his sandwich was any indication of what else he could do in a kitchen. It wasn’t supposed to, but it only made you madder at him. You wanted to punch his face while also giving him a kiss. Stop it, Yn, don’t go that far.

You were quiet, not knowing what else to say. Jason decided on not speaking too, buried in his own thoughts, afraid he’d let too much out. Finishing your food, you dipped the bread into the pesto when the intrusive thoughts came over, and for once, you let them win.

“No…” Jason gasped when he felt the cold sauce on his cheek. You let out a good chuckle, looking at the green stain on his face. Your masterpiece. But Jason was competitive, he wouldn’t let you win. So, he dipped his own bread in the sauce and tried to do the same as you, but you held his arms to stop him before he could stain yet another one of your shirts. His in this case.

It took all your strength to keep his arms away, your laughter, louder than it had been in a long while, making the job much more difficult. “Jason,” you screamed when he got too close for your liking, but you managed to hold his hand and, to his surprise, took one bite of his weapon.

You really couldn’t stop laughing. Tears formed in your eyes from it, and all Jason could do was shake his head and finish the last bite of his sandwich you’d left for him. He felt good seeing you smile again, laughing even, and he just confirmed it was now one of his favorite sounds. It wasn’t polished, it was loud, fun. Everything you usually weren’t, but proof you could be sometimes, if only you’d allow yourself to let loose.

He waited till you calmed down, taking deep breaths to steady it. Then, you stretched your arms to grab a towel opposite of you on the islands, cleaning your hands before looking back at him. “Here,” you called.

His heart stopped. Your hands going for his chin and pulling his face closer to yours, cleaning the pesto stain you’d left on his cheek. Jason had never seen you from this close, every detail exposed to him. The way you sucked in your cheeks in concentration, as you cleaned his face, your soft touch barely brushing his skin, aware not to give him any type of skin irritation.

From this close, he could get a better glimpse of your lips. How they were plumb from you biting on it, how reddish they were, how soft they looked. He watched them as the tip of your smile briefly lifted up. And then, watched your tongue leaving them wet.

You were aware of closeness too. But you had committed to cleaning the stain, you couldn’t show him any weakness now. Pulling away slowly, you noticed his eyes lingering on your lips, setting your stomach in a spiral. He bit his lips, lifting his eyes to look at yours through his lashes, and your heart nearly stopped. Your breath hitched, and you had to look away.

“Hmm,” you started, avoiding his gaze and himself entirely. “I think I’ll go back to bed, it’s late.”

Something inside Jason dropped, and he felt a weight in his chest. You stood up quickly, and walked back into the bedroom without looking back. Fuck, he wanted to scream, but he had to contain himself. So, he stood up, set the plates on the sink and made his way back to the sofa. The tightness in his jeans making it uncomfortable to walk.

Resting against the door as you closed it, you let out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your heart raced, wanting to break free from your chest, and you felt the warmth rising from within you. Your legs trembled a little, and your mind flew to things you did not wish to think of right now.

You couldn’t give in. You couldn’t. Jason meant trouble, and trouble meant bad things. You couldn’t let yourself fall for it again. You couldn’t invite trouble in, even if it looked as pleasing as he did. He was nice to you tonight because he was polite, but you knew his type well and knew it never ended well. He was just like the others, he’s not perfect, stop it!

A knock on the door broke you from your thoughts, and as if caught doing something bad, you were quick to react to opening it.

“Can I just get some clothes?” Jason asked, heading poking inside. “I just don’t want to sleep in the same clothes from the party.”

Giving him space, you allowed him in. He gave you a weak smile as he pass you, going in the direction of his closet. He indeed was wearing the same outfit from earlier, jeans, and a white shirt you could notice had some green stains on it. Karma.

“I’ve noticed you found my hoodie,” he pointed out while fishing for his pajamas, making your cheeks burn red. You went to apologize, but he was quicker to continue. “You can keep it, if it makes you comfortable.”

He turned back to face you, and you offered him a smile in gratitude. Suddenly mindful of your exposed legs, you tried to hide it with your hands, but you noticed how it only got his attention in that direction. He was about to leave when something made him stop.

“I need a blanket,” he said, running back to the closet. “Just a minute.”Jason was tall, but he seemingly was part of the crew who would hide their blankets on the tallest shelves, so tall that even he couldn’t reach properly. He stretched his arms up, the heels of his feet not touching the floor, and his shirt lifted up just a little. A treat for a very tired Yn to enjoy.

From your position, you caught a sight of his stomach up to his belly button. The toned muscles on the base of his abs made a perfect V shape, pointing downwards to a place you avoided imagining. A few of his tattoos peeked in and out of view as he moved, decorating his skin in drawings you could hardly identify. The thin line of hair going down the cherry on top of this tempting monstrosity.

Through his white t-shirt, you spotted the silhouette of his  back muscles. Well defined, well designed, strong enough to carry two of you up the stairs, and wide enough making it the perfect canvas to be painted by your nails.

You knew your mind was traveling through a very dangerous territory. You knew where it was going. You knew the consequences, yet you wanted it. You wanted the danger, you wanted the consequence. Just this once. Just this once you wanted the bad, the naughty, the dangerous. You wanted Jason. You wanted him. You wanted him.

Fuck, you wanted to scream. Run at him, kiss him. Kiss up the hair line on his stomach, up his abs, his chest. Damn it!

You didn’t notice him moving, wishing you a good night, walking to the door. You didn’t notice any of it. Didn’t notice his intoxicating smell leaving the room, because you knew your mind could make it up pretty quickly. Filling your nose with his inexistent scent. His shadow looming around you, with you at all times.

“Yn,” he broke you from your thoughts. He was worried. You stood still before the bed, not moving since he walked past you, not even your eyes following him along, or moving somewhere else. He’d called you before, but you hadn’t noticed. “Are you alright?”

He’d walked back in, closer to you. Approaching you worriedly, your breathing heavy, eyes now lingering on him. He couldn’t decipher them. They were darker, darker than he’d ever seen them. They hid something, something he couldn’t figure out.

“Yeah,” you breathed out a reply. “I’m fine,” you confirmed, arm extending to touch his chest. Jason’s breath got caught on his throat, and when he looked back at you, he found your eyes, and finally could decipher them. “I’m really fine.”

Sliding your hands from his chest up to his neck, you brought him closer, slamming your lips against his. A shiver climbed up your spine as you felt his tongue immediately sliding inside your mouth, and yours soon fought with him for dominance.

You couldn’t explain it. It just fit. He kissed you hungrily, like he’d been wanting it for long, and you replied with the same ferociousness, wanting him closer, more and more. You fingers tugged at the little hairs at the nape of his neck, and he moaned inside your mouth, the vibration reverberating through your entire body.

His hands roamed your skin. Squeezing your ass, caressing your back from underneath his hoodie. The feeling of his hands around you waking the little hairs on your body wherever they touched, leaving behind a burning sensation, a need for more of his touch all over body.

Stumbling, you two took a few footsteps backwards, feeling the ends of the bed hit your calves. He carefully lowered you on top of it, not breaking your kiss until you were left out of breath. When you two finally broke apart, he took the opportunity to pull his shirt over his head, exposing you to the tattoos you’d had a hard time identifying earlier.

An angel falling graced his left ribs, while something was written underneath his right boob. Overwall, you couldn’t count how many were there, you just knew they made him sexier and your cunt ache harder for him. Lifting yourself up a little, you pulled him back to you by the hem of his jeans, your mouths meeting soon after, afraid that if you had too much time to think about it, your mind would force you to stop whatever the hell this was.

On top of you, lips glued to yours, Jason started grinding his crotch against your clothed core, feeling his hardness through the harsh fabric of his jeans and only eliciting your arousal. Trapping your legs around his waist, you bent your back so you could reach him further, grinding yourself against him in a clothed love making session.

You wanted more. You need more. Desperately wanting him in. It was a wild, primal feeling you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in ages. Or ever at all. You needed him, like you needed air. You needed his tongue all over you, not just on your lips or occasionally traveling to your neck.

His hands slid underneath your shirt, and he broke the kiss to ask you for permission to take it off. His eyes looked at you with a mix of lust and something else, something softer. With a nod, he swiftly had both your shirt and his hoodie thrown off somewhere in his bedroom. 

You didn’t want to waste more time, sliding your underwear off too as soon as your breasts were freed, finding yourself fully exposed to the guy that just a few hours ago you would rather find dead than in his bed. 

Seeing you rush your underwear off, Jason had to stop and admire. Admire your body and all your curves. Your bare chest, your hard nipples, a sight Jason wanted pictured in his mind forever.

He wanted to remember how your excitement dripped off your thighs, its smell reaching his nose, intoxicating him. Driving him crazier for you than he already was. He really wanted to rip his pants off and fuck you right then and there. Slam his dick into you until he had you screaming out his name for the whole neighborhood to hear. But he also wanted to devour you little by little, taste every corner of your skin.

Pulling you closer from under the knee, he spread you open and fell on top of you again, resuming the action on your lips before moving his kisses down your neck and to your chest. He made sure to leave marks wherever he’d go. He made sure to bite, to suck on your skin until little red and purple stains decorated you instead of your shirt.

His hand, once holding tightly at your waist, found its way down too. Sliding to your arousal, he felt his fingers drench wet as they reached your soaked pussy. Finding you like that, so wet from just his kisses and touches, boosted his ego, giving him extra confidence he could do to you whatever he wanted.

Pushing one finger into you, he felt your body jolt up. He laughed against your skin as his mouth finally found its way to your breasts. He fucked you with one finger while sucking harshly at your nipples. You moaned loud, already feeling a tightness forming on your belly, that sweet but painful sensation you hadn’t felt in a while.

When he pushed another finger inside of you, speeding up his movements in and out while his thumb managed to somehow rub at your clit till it ached, it didn’t take long for you to see black spots in your sight. It did take long for your back to arch up, a muffled scream leaving your lung.

Nibbling at your nipple still, Jason took your moans and screams as motivation. He laughed as you came as if you were just a prey he was playing with, mocking your petite, fragile frame underneath him. Slapping your cunt, he moved his mouth to quickly play with your neglected boob before his tongue drew a line from between your breasts to the entrance to your core.

You could already feel your breath leaving your lungs, your mind half numb from your orgasm and tiredness. His breath hit your folds, as he pecked his way down to your entrance, licking from your ass to your clit, as you had to put a hand over your mouth to stop your screams.

Like a thirsty dog, Jason licked you up and down between your lower lips. His whole mouth stuffed on your vagina, enjoying your sweet taste filling his taste buds. You squirmed from the sensasion, so much he had to pin you down with his strong arms. You tried to push his head away, tug on his hair, anything to make him stop, already aching down there. But it also felt good, and you could feel another orgasm growing inside you.

However, he removed his face from your cunt as soon as he felt you were about to come. He was enjoying torturing you, making you weak to his touch. He wasn’t going to give in much easier, but he also needed to feel you. Feel you around him, sucking him dry till he himself was left just a moaning mess.

Fumbling with the button and zipper of his pants, he managed them down his legs, pulling with them his boxers, letting his hard penis hit against his stomach. You let out a gasp when you saw his erection, already knowing it was going to hurt but be so worth it. He was thick, probably the size of your hands around it, and just long enough.

Jason looked around, trying to remember where he’d last put his condoms on, before your voice void his mind of any coherent thought.

“Fuck me, Jason,” you begged, hands reach to touch his dick. “Please, fuck me.”

“Fuuuck,” he let out a loud and prolonged groan, forgetting everything and placing himself at your entrance. He pushed the tip in, getting a painful moan out of you. You were tight, but he was going to make himself fit. 

Collecting your juices, he rubbed it along his shaft, pressing himself in ever so slowly. As he entered, you molded yourself perfectly around him, taking him in entirely eventually. He let you adjust, allowing you to get used to his size. Lowering down, he pulled you into another kiss. This time, deeper, slower, hotter.

He started with slow thrusts, moving out entirely before placing himself back in. You moaned and your body jumped every time he moved. His low groans on your ear making you wetter, and his speed started to pick up. 

The sound of skin hitting skin getting louder, filling the room along the strong smell of your sinful act. The bed creaked and hit against the wall along with Jason’s thrusts. He started to gain more and more speed, taking one of your legs and placing it on his shoulder.

He modded as the action gave him more access to your cunt, speed going so fast your boobs bounced up and down vigorously. With the spare had the wasn’t holding your leg up, he reached for your clit and your moans only got louder, screaming Jason’s name like a fucking prayer. Begging for release.

He’d sobered up from the party a long time ago, but he was getting drunk on the sight of your glistening skin, coated in sweat, screaming his name as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Not rolling out of anger, or annoyance. But because he was making you feel so fucking good you couldn’t control yourself anymore.

Jason felt like a king. Total control over you as you felt your mind go numb, drunk on his cock, drunk on the sensation he was giving you. He moved his hips harshly, slamming against your wet core like a MMA fighter fights his opponent. He felt the growing knot on his abdomen, speeding his thumb’s movements, wanting you to cum along with him.

A few more thrusts had you screaming so loud Jason had to put his hands over your mouth to shut you up, afraid his neighbors wouldn’t enjoy your fucked up symphony. He felt your release hitting his cock and he too released inside of you, feeling your walls clenching around him, milking his ball dry of any cum he had to offer.

The room was now filled with groans and heavy breaths. The air was thick and warm, and the smell of sex sticking to every corner. He pulled out, watching you juices mixed up and dripping off your pussy. Sticking a finger inside, he took some of you mixed orgasm and put it on his tongue. He didn’t lick it, instead just placing it there before lowering himself to give you a kiss, making sure you two got to taste your second late night snack together.

When you pulled away, begging for air, he had his forehead rested on yours. His eyes were closed, and his hair stuck to your forehead from sweat. Something you’d seen many times at the gym, now got a completely new meaning to you. One you enjoyed a lot more, seeing and making it happen.

You too closed your eyes, tiredness weighing your lashes down, as you barely missed Jason’s body falling beside you. You also missed his arms wrapping around your waist, and his face snuggling into your neck. Soon falling into slumber, a delicious ache on your core, as the dream world quickly took over you.

It wasn’t until hours later that the bright sun beams hit your eyes, or the loud noises of Gotham’s traffic found your ears. Eyes taking too long to open, as you woke up more tired than usual. Your body ached in pain, every muscle seemingly sore, but you didn’t remember going to the gym yesterday.

You only remembered you had to work and ended up getting drunk at a party. You remembered getting mad at your parents and deciding you had to release all your anger doing something they’d despise. You remembered your gym enemy taking you home. To his or mine? You wondered, eyes finally opening to the unknown bedroom.

Fuck. Looking behind you, you found Jason’s body spread on the same bed you now laid, and you quickly became aware of your own lack of an outfit. No, no, no. You went too far. You were just supposed to get drunk at a party, not fuck a stranger, Yn. Not fuck fucking Jason!

Carefully removing the duvet off of you, you slipped out of bed and fished for your clothes around his bedroom. Your shirt was tangled on his hoodie you had worn last night, and your panties were thrown on the other side of it. Your bra rested on the bedside table on Jason’s side of the bed, while your jeans were perfectly folded on top of a chair.

You tried to be quiet, to put your clothes back on without making any noise. But your own constant shits and fucks didn’t help your case, and as you buttoned your jeans you heard shuffling on the bed. Jason rubbed his eyes, trying to understand what was going on. “Yn? What are you…”

“THIS IS FUCKED UP!” you screamed, his eyes jolting open at your reaction. “We shouldn’t have done this, Jason.”

“Woah, I didn’t do it alone.” he replied, feeling annoyed at the tone you’d been treating this interaction with.

“We shouldn’t. We…” you wanted to cry, pissed off you’d let yourself sleep with him of all people. Taking your shoes, you rushed out of the room, wanting all of this to be just a silly little memory of a silly little moment when you had lost control.

Opening the door to the living room, you stepped on something that bit your leg in return, a loud hiss forcing your eyes to the black kitten clutched to your leg. Shaking the cat off of you, you proceeded with your run of shame.

“Yn!” Jason screamed after you, but your feet never ceased, and you ran down the stairs. Eyes only jumping up to find him as he stood by the door. The towel you’d cleaned his cheeks with hardly managing to hide his groin. The last sight you got of him haunting you for the days that followed. His sad eyes, frown and pressed closed lips a memory from his heartbreak.

.

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[neverenoughmarauders]

Hi! what are your thoughts on the ever present fanon idea that James repeatedly asks Lily to date him before she finally concedes (he pesters her tbh)?

I feel like this throws a lot of people off of Jily as it just adds a bit of creepiness to the ship and makes it weirder for Lily to get with James considering this behaviour, after what must’ve been a fair amount of reckoning since he tormented her childhood best friend for years. Like even if Lily hated Snape at this point I don’t think she’d forget how James treated him easily and let James off the hook without a proper reckoning so adding pestering behaviour to that dynamic just makes their relationship more unlikely ya know. Honestly just tryna find reasons why fandom in general dislike Jily more than jegulus atp.

Hi anon

This idea that James repeatedly asked Lily out I think far precedes Jegulus. In my youth, the few fics I engaged with (often because my best friend kindly helped translate them) seemed to position it as a very cute thing - although it always annoyed me even then, because it has no basis in canon. The day and age where James persistently asking Lily out was seen as cute are over, and now this fanon idea is presented in favour of Jegulus or Snily.

Actually, as an aside, in general the marauders' story is one that has aged poorly... You can't really view the marauders without the lens of it being the 70s and during a wizarding world war - but people do and it completely changes everything.

How do I feel about it?

I feel the same way about this as I do with all fanon ideas that get presented as evidence. It drives me up the wall no end. We all get carried away with our own interpretations and that's fine, but if people cannot separate canon from interpretation of canon /headcanon from fanon, how can we have an informed debate?

Canon:

"Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they’re doing at night?” “I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are.” ... “I didn’t mean — I just don’t want to see you made a fool of — He fancies you, James Potter fancies you!” The words seemed wrenched from him against his will. “And he’s not ... everyone thinks ... big Quidditch hero — ” Snape’s bitterness and dislike were rendering him incoherent, and Lily’s eyebrows were traveling farther and farther up her forehead.

My interpretation of canon:

The conversation between Snape and Lily to me indicates that it is a relatively new development (which means sometimes not long before/after the whomping willow incident). At this point I think it's hard to argue that James has asked Lily out - why on earth would Snape feel the need to point out that James fancies her if this be the case.

Canon:

“I will if you go out with me, Evans,” said James quickly. “Go on ... Go out with me, and I’ll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again.” ... “I wouldn’t go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid,” said Lily. “Bad luck, Prongs,” said Sirius briskly, turning back to Snape. ... “There you go,” he said, as Snape struggled to his feet again, “you’re lucky Evans was here, Snivellus — ” “I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!” Lily blinked. “Fine,” she said coolly. “I won’t bother in future. And I’d wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus.” ... “What is it with her?” said James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him. “Reading between the lines, I’d say she thinks you’re a bit conceited, mate,” said Sirius. “Right,” said James, who looked furious now, “right"

Also canon: Lily found James attractive at this point, despite not liking him very much. It was confirmed in an interview, in response to whether or not Lily hated James, but as we know even from the source text:

“How come she married him?” Harry asked miserably. “She hated him!” “Nah, she didn’t,” said Sirius.

My interpretation of canon:

James is being an immature d***. That aside, nothing about this dialogue suggests to me that James has ever asked Lily out before. Why? James looks FURIOUS at the rejection, he does not give off the vibes of someone who has routinely been rejected by Lily.

There's also the small stuff which doesn't by itself mean anything but which adds up, such as Sirius' and Snape's reaction. Sirius doesn't come across as someone who has seen this a hundred times. He's obviously far less affected or surprised by the outcome, but that's not the same thing. Snape completely loses it with Lily - why? It's not the first time James and Sirius has bullied him, but if it's the first time Snape has listened to James ask her out - worse still, use him to ask her out, he might be furious. He told her so, didn't he? James Potter fancied her.

My headcanon:

We know Lily found James attractive, and that James is shocked to be rejected. We also know Snape is nervous that Lily might be falling for James: 'I’m just trying to show you they’re not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are' Why? Probably because by now Lily and James have flirted a little on and off. If Lily spoke the way she spoke to James by the lake - if James routinely asked Lily out - then the conversation between Severus and Lily makes no sense.

If people want to like Jegulus, they can. Personally, I think Jily holds everything I want from an "enemies" to lovers trope, and if I want another trope it's usually best friends to lovers, and I've got prongsfoot for that. Or if I am feeling like I want both, there's always Jilypad <3

[personasintro]

Hi, its me the yapper!! Once again!! 👋👋

I just wanted to clarify something that both you and other commenters seem to have gotten wrong; Whatever I said was incase of the scenario that you’re not feeling the story like you used to, so writing it has taken longer bcs you do not enjoy it as much but you still want to appease the reader. Hence the unwanted suggestions I made.

In my point of view, it seemed that way so I thought it was inevitable that you one day drop the fic because yes we’re getting older and busier and we drift away from things we loved. Thats why I said “is it really that serious?” because you obviously seem willing to keep writing but the wait has gotten so long that it looks like you’re doing it out of obligation(?!).

Looks like I misjudged and I apologise if thats not the case. But it came out of genuine curiosity because I just cant comprehend such long wait. Thats a me problem ig🤷‍♀️

So what I got out of your response is that yes we might/will see the end of mh in like 1-2 years? (more or less)I get that I sound bitter but I promise I am NOT lmao its pure curiosity I promise!!!

Ps to people who said that that was uncalled for or that its serious to me otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered; As I said I am an avid reader of mh so after a reread I thought I could share my thoughts? Like its genuinely not that serious even to me, I didn’t think twice before sending the ask I did it just because the thought crossed my mind. And l believe the whole waiting thing is a fact, so people’s opinions on it are very much called for?

Is it any of our business how long mimi takes to write? No🙂‍↔️. Are we as readers entitled to an opinion as long as we’re respectful? I’d like to think yes🙂‍↕️

Anywayss have a good one yall

i understood what you meant in your previous ask. and i still stand by what i said many times before – i do not hold here anyone against their will and if anyone feels like they're getting older and lose an interest in any of my stories, that's okay and it's their decision to make. i can't be responsible for everyone's feelings of how they feel about this exact situation. that's beyond my control and you're all free to feel however you want. i do wish people would be more understanding and respectful and that's why i said that no one knows what someone goes through. just because i'm no longer totally open about what's going on in my life, doesn't mean i don't care about my stories.

i'm not writing out of obligation. sure, i do feel a certain responsibility to make mh my priority even more than ever, but it's not an obligation. and i wouldn't just drop the story. i said this too, i'll finish this story whether it's for myself or for everyone else as well.

i said this many times before too – i'm in a position where i write whenever i can and want. i do not have any schedule, actually i never had one – but readers were used to more frequent updates and now, of course it's harder to get used to less frequent updates. but that's just life. i apologized when i never had to. my plans was always to finish mh asap (still is) but sometimes things don't go as planned and there are things i don't even have control of.

i respect your opinion and i'm merely explaining myself on this, hope it can be taken with respect and understanding as well!

have a good day everyone ☀️

[nogoodsheepstealing-greatgrandma]

TG on Criston Cole: "He's not the step dad he's the Dad Who Stepped Up! 😍"

Criston Cole in F&B: Literally Humbert Humbert (or, at best, Woody Allen).

Afterward, he gave the seven-year-old Princess Rhaenyra the victor’s laurel and begged for her favor to wear in the joust.

“Ser Criston protects the princess from her enemies, but who protects the princess from Ser Criston?” *

*said at a point when Rhaenyra is the same age as Dolores Haze btw.

Among the changes to the character's ages in HOTD, it's ageing up Rhaenyra when she first meets Criston Cole that grosses me out the most. And to add insult to injury, they don't even get an older actor to play an older Criston Cole after the time jump - Emma D'arcy is actually older than Fabian Frankel.

And to those who say sympathetic jilted lover Criston Cole is more interesting... well we've heard that story before. With Jorah Mormont's depiction in GOT, for starters. And everywhere else in our culture, men like Criston Cole are afforded sympathy and fascination (it's honestly a relief that most audiences outside of tumblr thankfully hate Show Criston - pls leave the actor alone though), while their victims are depicted as seductive temptress 'nymphets'.

Look no further than JK Rowling's favourite 'tragic romance'.

(sure jk, trans women are the problem, but humbert humbert isn't?)

Book covers and film adaptations of Lolita love to age up and sexualise Dolores and completely miss the point, but Vladimir Nabokov named actress Catherine Demongeot as the most book-accurate casting. Who looks very disturbing up against the 1997 film's casting for Humbert Humbert:

She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock.

And wouldn't you know it, Daemon returns from the Stepstones when Rhaenyra (15) is around the same age that Dolores was, when Clare Quilty convinced her to run away with him.

And when Criston proposes to Rhaenyra ahead of her upcoming marriage to Laenor, she is again the same age as Dolores (17) when Humbert tries to get her to leave her husband for him.

Obviously Rhaenyra's story is by no means directly comparable to the horrific abuse suffered by Dolores Haze, and besides we don't know precisely what happened between Rhaenyra and Criston*. But Rhaenyra was also much much younger (7) when Criston came into a position to start grooming her, and at the end of the day she was still only a 12-year-old child when rumours of a sexual relationship began. The parallels are there, and CSA is a common issue throughout GRRM's work.

It certainly wouldn't be the first time GRRM has made a reference to Lolita in ASOIAF:

You see, she had absolutely nowhere else to go.

Littlefinger and Lord Petyr looked so very much alike. She would have fled them both, perhaps, but there was nowhere for her to go.

On Septon Eustace and Mushroom

*I do find it interesting to note that of the two accounts of Rhaenyra and Criston's 'split' (by two people who weren't in the room), it is Septon Eustace's account that puts Rhaenyra in a more favourable light. Mushroom tells the more pornographic account that casts Rhaenyra as the one trying to seduce Criston. Meanwhile Septon Eustace insists that Rhaenyra was the one to refuse Criston - including arguing that if his vows as a Kingsguard mean so little to him, then why should she trust he'd honour any marriage vows?

As I often argue, interpreting F&B is far more complicated than insisting one account always tells the truth, one account always tells propaganda etc. Neither account obviously views the relationship through the lens that Rhaenyra was only 7 when they met, neither of them care to raise concerns of grooming and CSA . This is still the same world after all that thought it was perfectly acceptable for a 12-year-old Laena to marry Viserys, or for a 12-year-old Sansa to marry Tyrion. This is the world that spread rumours of Rhaenyra's lost virginity when she had barely begun puberty.

Mushroom is clearly pro-Rhaenyra, and clearly fond of her (he wants us to know for instance how good it was to hear her laugh, his account expresses the most how broken she was after Luke's death) - but he's writing his account years after her death, and most likely after departing Aegon III's court for White Harbour. His priority, as a dwarf and entertainer, is to write was sells, and salacious tales sell. Just look at the pornographic tales the slavers spread of Daenerys, or how Shae depicts Sansa as a seducer withholding sex to convince her husband to commit regicide, or the play Arya performs in that bawdily depicts Tyrion raping Sansa for the masses. Mushroom at least wasn't the one to actually come up with the Brothel Queens story** - Archmaester Gyldayn credits Aegon II with making that story up - but any loyalty Mushroom had to a long-dead woman wasn't enough to stop him including a popular story. Mushroom's gotta eat.

**to those who still insist the story is true (despite Gyldayne attributing the rumour to Aegon II), do you honestly think if the Queen and Queen Mother had actually been gang-raped there wouldn't be multiple sources verifying it and expressing outrage?

Septon Eustace meanwhile is a misogynist who hated Rhaenyra and wished to justify his allegiance to the Greens. Which is why he'll make up ridiculous stories about Rhaenyra cutting herself on the throne while wearing armour, or Sunfyre eating her in 6 bites and leaving behind one leg for the Stranger, or how Rhaenyra got fat and ugly after giving birth to 5 children. Which is why he'll have Aegon II say "what sort of brother steals his sister's birthright?" - a statement that doesn't match with the rest of his documented words and actions:

Word of Rhaenyra’s coronation reached the Red Keep the next day, to the great displeasure of Aegon II. “My half-sister and my uncle are guilty of high treason,” the young king declared. “I want them attainted, I want them arrested, and I want them dead.”*** Cooler heads on the green council wished to parley. “The princess must be made to see that her cause is hopeless,” Grand Maester Orwyle said. “Brother should not war against sister. Send me to her, that we may talk and reach an amicable accord.” Aegon would not hear of it. Septon Eustace tells us that His Grace accused the Grand Maester of disloyalty and spoke of having him thrown into a black cell “with your black friends.”

***spoken in response to Rhaenyra publicly offering him a pardon

So Eustace has a tendency to demonise and whitewash - which is what makes it interesting when he passes on the opportunity. For example, why would he refute the rumours that Rhaenyra's children are bastards? Surely that claim would have supported his case against her? Why does he give quite a positive, even glowing, account of Jacaerys? Probably because he approved of and genuinely had no issue with Jacaerys, other than that he didn't believe the throne could pass through the female line anyway. True or not, he didn't need to claim Jace as a bastard, and Jace's actions didn't fit any cultural stereotypes. Because it seems there are certain lines Septon Eustace won't cross.

So Septon Eustace has some commitment to telling the truth (some truths anyway). Which is why his own account of Aegon II often contradicts itself, as shown above.

So back to his account of Rhaenyra and Criston. Why not cast Rhaenyra a wanton seductress, trying to tempt Criston Cole away from his Kingsguard vows? Why depict Criston, a fellow Green, as an oathbreaker? Why tell us that Rhaenyra did the right thing, turning Criston down and even expressing disgust that he would abandon his vows? Because for all Septon Eustace dislikes Rhaenyra, casting her as a wanton seductress would be crossing a line. He doesn't need it to be against female succession - her great sin is being a woman who doesn't gracefully abdicate in favour of her brother, and that's enough.

And because his account is probably closer to what happened. While he wasn't in the room, no more than Mushroom was, he was in a position to hear about it from Criston. As a fellow Green, and above all as a Septon. Someone who Criston might confess to. And it is Septon Eustace's account that tells us Criston Cole was the one to slit Lord Beesbury's throat. While he may try (sometimes anyway) to sanitise Aegon II, he makes no such effort with Criston Cole. If you wanted to legitimise your support for the Greens but were unable deny their crimes, it makes sense to allow someone to be the villain.

And supposing Criston did confess, he probably would have displayed the same delusional self-pity and self-justification as Humbert Humbert. And Septon Eustace, just like everyone else in Westeros, certainly wouldn't have considered Rhaenyra a possible victim of grooming and CSA.

Just look at Catherine Howard as a historical example. When she was 13 she was molested by her music tutor, Henry Mannox:

“At the flattering and fair persuasions of Mannox, being but a young girl, I suffered him at sundry times to handle and touch the secret parts of my body, which neither became me with honesty to permit nor him to require.”

This 'affair' was used as evidence against her in her trial for adultery and subsequent execution.

The Princess and her White Knight

Again, we don't know what precisely happened between Rhaenyra and Criston. We don't know if their relationship is comparable to Catherine Howard and Henry Mannox, or if it escalated anywhere close to the horrors of Dolores Haze and Humbert Humbert. Or if anything actually happened at all, or maybe at least not till Rhaenyra was older. Maybe their relationship is more comparable to Soon-Yi Previn and Woody Allen, who had been her stepfather since she was 10.

We have snatches of the truth from Eustace and Mushroom, we have what we can determine of their access to the truth and their motives for telling their accounts the way they do. We have Rhaenyra's young age, Criston's constant access to her, the timing of the rumours, her later relationships with older men, the violent hatred Criston has towards her after she rejects him. We have the fact that CSA is a common reoccurrence in GRRM's work - Daenerys and Jorah, Sansa and Littlefinger, Jeyne and Ramsay, Tyrion and Tywin, Aeron and Euron. We have the salacious stories that are already spreading of victims like Daenerys and Sansa, and we can speculate how future maesters and septons and fools might write about them, the way they write about Rhaenyra.

Whatever happened, my understanding is that Rhaenyra was a child in a court that her stepmother was actively making a hostile environment for her. Who had to deal with the beginnings of puberty in this environment, where adults were already speculating on her sexuality, on top of all the other scrutiny she would face as heir. Yes she had a father who doted on her, but when it came to Alicent he always refused to take sides, he always tried to placate and please and keep the peace. Yes he was steadfast in his decision to keep Rhaenyra his heir, but he did nothing to reprimand Alicent, he allowed this hostile environment to flourish, leaving his barely pubescent daughter to deal with it on her own. Alicent even publicly quips about Rhaenyra's relationship with Criston Cole, and she gets away with it.

Daemon does not return from the Stepstones till after the 5th anniversary tournament Viserys throws for Alicent, when Rhaenyra is 14/15. Before then, Rhaenyra's main confidant, probably her only confident on the subject of Alicent, was her sworn shield and constant shadow Criston Cole. Whatever happened between them, she was young and emotionally vulnerable. And lonely. Yes she had a party of supporters at court - but what is that to a child? She needed a parent to confide in, and when it came to Alicent her own father could not be that parent.

We know Rhaenyra was a precocious child, 'bright and bold' and proud. But we also know that beneath that she was anxious - she was known to compulsively fidget with the rings on her fingers out of anxiety. What kid in her situation wouldn't be anxious? Just when did this compulsive habit begin? Rhaenyra may not have been in anywhere near as vulnerable a situation as Dany, but she was still a vulnerable kid. And so Criston would have been important to her.

He wants me, she realized. He loves me as he loved her, not as a knight loves his queen but as a man loves a woman. She tried to imagine herself in Ser Jorah’s arms, kissing him, pleasuring him, letting him enter her. It was no good. 

It was a long kiss, though how long Dany could not have said. When it ended, Ser Jorah let go of her, and she took a quick step backward. “You … you should not have …”

My great bear, Dany thought. I am his queen, but I will always be his cub as well, and he will always guard me. It made her feel safe, but sad as well. She wished she could love him better than she did.

My bear, my fierce strong bear, what will I do without him?

My bear, she thought, my old sweet bear, who loved me and betrayed me. She had missed him so. She wanted to see his ugly face, to wrap her arms around him and press herself against his chest.

We don't know how much or in what way Criston took advantage of Rhaenyra's dependence on him, or how 'receptive' Rhaenyra might have been (friendly reminder that no matter how 'receptive' she might have been, it's still CSA). Again, it may be that nothing physically happened at all until Rhaenyra was 17 (after 10 years of grooming of course). Whatever happened, we can certainly imagine that Rhaenyra was devastated to lose him, and to Alicent of all people. He had been her confidant and her champion, he had been at her side since she was 7 years old, not long before losing her mother (who was the same age as Criston btw).

My understanding of Criston meanwhile is that he genuinely adored her for those 10 years as her sworn shield. That he was passionately protective of her, fiercely devoted to her, and possessive. Much like Jorah with Dany. Maybe, like Jorah, he tried to kiss her. Maybe much worse happened, and he deluded himself as many abusers do that theirs was a misunderstood romance. Maybe he never touched her at all, but fantasised about it. Maybe he convinced himself that he was a man of honour, maybe he spent those years waiting till Rhaenyra was older, by her side the entire time (cough, grooming).

Whatever happened, he was enraged that 10 years of grooming were ultimately unrewarded. He probably, deludedly, cast her just as cruel and selfish and ungrateful as Humbert Humbert did Dolores Haze.

Despite our tiffs, despite her nastiness, despite all the fuss and faces she made, and the vulgarity, and the danger, and the horrible hopelessness of it all, I still dwelled deep in my elected paradise - a paradise whose skies were the color of hell-flames - but still a paradise.

There is nothing more atrociously cruel than an adored child.

But I was weak, I was not wise, my schoolgirl nymphet had me in thrall. With the human element dwindling, the passion, the tenderness, and the torture only increased; and of this she took advantage.

Don't you love living in a world where multiple think pieces debate whether or not Rhaenyra abused Criston Cole? (Also a world where a book like Lo's Diary gets published...)

If there is any truth to Septon Eustace's account that Criston wanted to elope with her to Essos, then I can imagine that he wanted to possess Rhaenyra entirely for himself (however romantic he may have believed his motives). The 'black fury' that descends on him during the wedding tourney certainly tells us he is violently jealous to see Rhaenyra begin a relationship with Harwin. He probably stewed in fury while Rhaenyra's attention was on Daemon (maybe hypocritically casting him as the villain the way Humbert Humbert does Clare Quilty), celebrated when Daemon was banished, and grew desperately possessive at the thought of losing his exclusive access to her again. Much like Jorah:

“You have been a better friend to me than any I have known, a better brother than Viserys ever was. You are the first of my Queensguard, the commander of my army, my most valued counselor, my good right hand. I honor and respect and cherish you—but I do not desire you, Jorah Mormont, and I am weary of your trying to push every other man in the world away from me, so I must needs rely on you and you alone. It will not serve, and it will not make me love you any better.”

I can't believe I'm giving Jorah Mormont credit here, but at least he doesn't respond to rejection with violent hatred of Dany. Or at least, he hasn't yet.

Now Rhaenyra's relationship with Daemon is another matter, and will require another essay. In sum, there is a broad spectrum between 'pedophile' and 'healthy relationship', and when I say Daemon's relationship with Rhaenyra is healthier than her relationship with Criston I have to admit the bar is very low indeed. Though I do take into consideration GRRM's description of Daemon as a grey character, 'equal parts light and dark'. Anyone is at liberty to declare death of the author and interpret Daemon as they see fit, but authorial intent (however fallible you may consider it) is not irrelevant. That authorial intent is the foundation upon which the characters, relationships, events, themes etc is built.

Ultimately, Daemon was not in Rhaenyra's life between the ages of 8 and 15 - he was in a relationship with an adult Mysaria, and then he was off to the Stepstones until Viserys and Alicent's 5th anniversary tourney. This isn't to endorse whatever may have happened in the 6 months Daemon was in King's Landing before his banishment - however you interpret his actions and motives. But simply to say that when it comes to grooming and abusing pre-pubescent to early-pubescent girls (oh this has been a disturbing essay to write) - Criston wins the "Creepy Even By Child Brideros Standards" Award.

So... is Criston the Step-Dad Who Stepped Up? Sure, if your Step-Dad is Humbert Humbert or Woody Allen.

[twilightmalachite]

Esu Sagiri - Idol Story 2

Author: Akira

Characters: Esu, Subaru

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Hehehe… But you know, even though I was crying like an idiot just by watching… You were smiling up until the very end and did your job perfectly as an idol, Senpai."

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Spring

Location: Cemetery

Second year of ES’ establishment. At a secret cemetery somewhere in Tokyo…

Subaru: (Dad.)

(I’m sorry I visited you so late this year as well.)

(I’m getting busier and busier year after year, you know? Although in Trickstar’s case, it’s more like there’s no leisure for the poor...)

(You wouldn't angry at that, would you though, Dad? ‘Cause you were much busier than I was, day in and day out.)

(Nothing could be done about that, though. You were a super idol who carried the industry on his shoulders, after all.)

(You never gave up, though. You never complained, and on holidays you would even be sure to come back home with a smile on your face just to make your family happy.)

(You sure are amazing, Dad. I’ve always admired you. And I’m now in the same position as you—I’ve become an idol.)

(As time passes, I’ve slowly realized more and more just how amazing a person you were.)

(It made me happy. It made me happy to be able to understand you, Dad.)

(Hey, Dad, I wonder if I’ve become an idol worthy of your praise.)

(If possible, I’d like to have you say “Wow, you’re amazing, Subaru!” if you were alive.)

(And I wish you could ruffle up my hair like I was a dog, just like you used to too, but…)

Esu: NwaaAAAAAAH!?

(thunk)

Subaru: …?

Hmm? Umm, are… you okay…?

Esu: Ah, It's okay, do not mind me! My arms are just outta shape, as it’s been a while since I’ve climbed! I bit off more than I could chew!

I took a dangerous route to get away from this creepy guy, and accidentally slipped from somewhere high—

Esu: —Wait, you’re Akehoshi SubaruuUUU!

Subaru: Yup. Huh, are you a fan of mine?

(This isn’t good. I didn’t really want my fans to know where my dad’s grave was.)

(Although his reputation’s been restored to an extent, there’s still a lot of anti-fans who believe those rumors and consider him the worst idol ever…)

(I don’t want that. What if his grave gets vandalized or something?)

Esu: Oh, no no! It’d be presumptuous for someone like myself to call myself a fan!

Presem… Presim, prisum… Huh, is “presumptuous” correct?!

Subaru: Yep, that’s it.

Esu: Was I right? Got it! Good, good, hip-hooray! I mean, that was very kind of you! This debt of gratitude will not be forgotten even if I am reborn seventeen times over!

Subaru: Seventeen times over, huh? What’s with that oddly specific number?

You’re a strange kid.

Esu: Huh, you think so? I find myself to be normal, though! Maybe I’ve become a little out of touch with the world after having been cooped up for a while?

If I do anything that feels off, do feel free to point anything out! I’ll correct it!

Subaru: Alright. Well to start, it’s looked down upon to cause a ruckus at gravesites.

Esu: You’re right~! My bad! I’ll quiet down! I’m a man who has often been told “You’re so cute when you keep your mouth shut, Esu-kun!” by his inconsiderate classmates!

Subaru: So your name’s Esu, huh?

Esu: Yes! I am Sagiri Esu! My name’s pretty tough to read, or excessively sparkly rather, so it’s okay if you don’t remember all of it![1]

You’re free to just call me something like “Ecchan” or “Sacchan”!

Subaru: Ecchan reminds me of Eichi-senpai. Sagiri—I feel like I might’ve heard “Sagiri” somewhere before…

Esu: Oh, so you recognize it? My father used to be real popular! He was even called a super idol at a point!

Subaru: Ah, that’s right! There was a super idol who showed up sometime between the times of Hokke~Papa—Hidaka Seiya-san and my dad, right?

His name was Sagiri. My dad said that he looked up to him, so I remember.

Esu: Ahaha~, although it was all downhill for him once the next super idol, Akehoshi-senpai’s father, made his appearance.

Subaru: Well, my dad did become the talk of the town for many things, both good and bad… Those from around that time aren’t talked about as much anymore, with Hokke~Papa being an exception.

It’s like it’s all been balled together as a dark past to be forgotten, thanks to all that’s happened.

So I dunno how things are now, but, umm you—Sacchan, what’s your father doing now?

He’s not active anymore… right? I feel I’d know about him if he were active.

Esu: Oh, my father died.

Subaru: …Is that so? Sorry, I didn’t know…

Esu: Nah, if you didn’t know, you didn’t know! He passed away three years ago, and by the time he’d already turned over a new leaf as just an ordinary man.

Just an ordinary man, just with a bit of a nice-looking face.

Could at least look ugly… Wouldn't have to be followed around by that pervert then…

Subaru: Pervert? Had your father been targeted by some weird stalker or something, like mine was…?

Esu: No, no, this pervert has nothing to do with my father’s death. Sorry if I’m being difficult to follow! My communication skills aren’t all too great, after all! Just terrible!

My father died in a plane accident. Just a common—well, it’s not common, but an ordinary accident with nothing to do with idols or anything like that.

I was involved in the accident too, and although I managed to survive, I’ve been in the hospital up until recently. So, I've been in the process of rehabilitation for about six months, as of now.

Subaru: Is that so… I probably wouldn’t have even known three years ago. In the period before I entered high school, I would shut myself away from any and all information.

All of the information that would drift my way… I wouldn’t wanna hear any of it.

Esu: I totally get you~. It feels like anything and everything is an attack on you when your heart is weak, doesn’t it?

Even though nobody in the world probably spares a single thought about you.

Ah, but you’re an idol, Akehoshi-senpai, so tons and tons of people pay attention to you, of course! I was really moved by the SS from two years back![2]

It was like—and sorry if this sounds disrespectful—but your father also passed away… I felt like I could relate with you in some ways.

Like, “Ahh, this person, he’s me.”

Subaru: … …

Esu: At the time, I understood the expression on your face, your voice, everything, as if they were my own—I empathized! I was no longer able to distinguish between you and I!

I was in the hospital, lying in bed watching your performance, and I cried so hard that even the nurses became seriously worried about me.

Esu: Hehehe… But you know, even though I was crying like an idiot just by watching…

You were smiling up until the very end and did your job perfectly as an idol, Senpai. So, I thought you were real amazing—

Esu: Ahh, I can’t find the right words! Hang in there, my vocabulary!

Subaru: It’s okay. I understand you.

Thank you. For watching my performance.

You cried in place of me, didn’t you? Maybe that’s why I didn’t have to show a shameful sight like that upon such an important stage.

So… I know it sounds weird, but thank you. Really.

Esu: Oh no no, I seriously didn’t do anything! I don’t know what to do being shown gratitude like this?!

Oh, shoot!? I hear Fuyume’s voice! He hates exercise and isn’t all that good at it either, but caught up to me through sheer determination…!

I-I’m so sorry, but I gotta go now! It’s over for me if I’m caught!

Subaru: It kinda feels like you’re in danger… Do you need me to hide you?

Esu: Ah, that’s very kind of you, but I’m alright! This is a problem I gotta resolve on my own…!

But if you’d like, do offer some incense at the grave over there, the one decorated with cutesy goods.

That one’s my father’s grave.

Subaru: Right. This cemetery is for those in the industry that need to be kept secret from the general public. Both your father and my dad rest here.

It was through some sort of fate I was able to meet you, and hear your words that made me happy, so… Yeah, I’ll be sure to offer some incense.

Esu: Thanks! I’m sure our fathers are happy too! It doesn’t seem like they were on good terms when they were alive, but everyone becomes a Buddha when they die, right?[3]

I’m sure all those concerns and karma have been thoroughly purified!

—Eek, his voice is getting closer! Maaan, I wanted to have a nice and quiet visit to his grave after all this time!

But, well, I also caused a ruckus for no reason, and disturbed Akehoshi-senpai’s visit to his grave! That makes it sort of a mutual karmic retribution, right!—kinda?

Subaru: It’s fine. My dad always liked it when things were lively.

I’m sure he’s standing beside your father, watching over with a smile on their faces—over us.

[ ☆ ]

story directory

A sparkly name (キラキラネーム) is a term that refers to a recent phenomenon of giving names that are over-extravagant and notably very difficult to read. Esu's name is written with the kanji 笑主, which is both very unrecognizable as a name (it uses the kanji for laugh/smile + the kanji for lord/master), the reading is also very unnatural. The phenomenon is similar to the one where people will name their babies stuff like "Mhackenzeigh" or "Lakynn". Since knowing that 笑主 is read as "Esu" doesn't come instinctively, it would be difficult to remember; hence Esu saying there's no need to remember it all.

Referring to the SS where Trickstar won, back in ! era. If you aren’t aware of what happens to Subaru and Trickstar during the event, I highly recommend reading SS - Friendship 14 until the end of the event story, else this entire scene won’t make as much sense.

Esu uses a lot of Buddhist terminology here. If you’re familiar with the idea of reaching enlightenment, once you reach enlightenment, you let go of all worldly possessions, realizations, attainments, and achievements. This is what is referred to when one becomes a Buddha.

[aeithalian]

On Apollo and fatal flaws

Vague question for my fellow apollogists out there: what do we think Apollo's fatal flaw is? I write this realizing that, in all five books of the series, all told from Apollo's point of view, we never actually have it explicitly stated, either from Apollo's knowledge and refusal to share (which, strangely, seems to me like something he would tell us), or from him not actually knowing, either.

Simply stated, a fatal flaw is any kind of weakness of a hero, god or mortal, that can be exploited and can cause the downfall of that character. That being said, we already know some that generally scope out the larger range of what they can be:

Percy: excessive personal loyalty

Annabeth: hubris/pride

Nico: holding grudges

Thalia: ambition

Leo: feeling inferior

Piper: low self-esteem

Luke: wrath

Jason: hesitation and excessive deliberation

And we are certain that immortals have flaws like these, too. Although it isn't explicitly stated in canon what Zeus' fatal flaw is, it's exceedingly obvious that it's paranoia and hunger for power, as well as his sexual infidelity.

I feel like we can easily knock some flaws off the list already:

Holding grudges is off the list for the main reason that, if there's one thing Apollo oozes, it's forgiveness, and the fact that he is always ready to give second chances to people who have wronged him and the world (Lityerses, Luguselwa, Meg, etc.)

For the same reason, I'm going to knock off wrath. Yes, he has moments of rage, but so does everybody else! It's human nature, and, as stated before, it's usually overshadowed by Apollo's choice to let go of that anger and choose forgiveness instead.

Ambition is an interesting one, but it's not at all something that really comes up in the series to the point where it ends up being powerful enough to be his fatal flaw. He rarely seeks power he didn't already have before, especially when you consider he is Zeus' most powerful son, and one of the most powerful gods period. Why would he need more power? Unless, of course, you choose to point out that one time he tried to overthrow Zeus, but I'd argue he was acting more out of a place of 'hey please be better at your job' than 'I want your title and position', which actually falls more under Poseidon's motivations in that myth.

Interestingly, there's a certain aspect of Apollo's character in the myths that totally screws the pooch in terms of this discussion, and that's the fact that Apollo, throughout the stories of Ancient Greece, is a typical example of perfection. Literally, he's written to be virtually flawless, the paragon of young men, and (in the context of Ancient Greek culture) doesn't have many moments of rage, selfishness, or paranoia, or at least, not as many as other gods (looking at you, Artemis).

HOWEVER, as much as the myths seemingly act like he doesn't have a glaringly obvious flaw, we as a part of Apollo's inner circle/audience know he's got one - I mean, look at him! It's in there somewhere, nobody's perfect, and I don't think anybody's pretending as such for Apollo. What irks me is that we know Apollo is not lacking in general character flaws, but there is one, beyond a doubt, that shapes his inner core irreversibly. And we don't know it.

Thankfully, though, we've got five books of content that might help us come to a conclusion.

The Hidden Oracle, being the beginning of the story and the beginning of Apollo's character development, is where we would get an inkling of what Apollo wants us to think his fatal flaw is. To us, Apollo appears vain, self-centered, and, frankly annoying. And he does these things on purpose. Or at least, he tells us these things.

That's the thing: if you look past all the fluff Apollo spits out to the audience throughout the first majority of the book, before his children are taken into the forest, you'd find that his dialogue, aka how the other characters of the story hear and see him, doesn't really reflect that. Most of the annoying, self-centered brattiness is only on the page, and not as obvious in his personal interactions (not saying they're not there, but it's so much worse in his internal monologue). So, what does this tell us?

That those aren't his fatal flaws. He's very good at pretending that they are, probably because, as I've read several other metas very cleverly explain, that this is what gods are supposed to be, and, Apollo, in his desperation be his father's golden child again (or, also to avoid his wrath, take that how you will) has built up a very elaborate mask for thousands of years, because that is what he is not. He's trying to be glossed over in the vast sea that is the gods, and it's not really working because, well, he got turned into a mortal. Again.

As we pass through books 2 and 3, we're still not quite past the whole "pretending to be petty and self-serving because this is what I am supposed to be as dictated by the laws of my immortal people and my father". That, almost certainly, doesn't come until the latter half of The Burning Maze. So it's further safe to assume that our best guess as to his fatal flaw probably coincides with his more honest moments with the audience, eg. books 4 and 5.

Now, I know a popular common answer to this whole question is that it's his ego and his pride. But here's the thing: as we move on to the second half of the series, we get an interesting revealing of Apollo's perception of himself. To put it plainly: Apollo is not a narcissist, as much as he pretends to be (see the above points). Honestly, he might actually hate himself and what he's become as he learns to take a more critical view of himself as the series goes on. Drawn in direct antithesis to his moments in the first two books, when he tells us that he assumes that anybody he meets is willing to help him, after the peak of his development (marked by his promise and Jason's subsequent death), this isn't the case. That's why I'm pretty okay with putting pride and ego towards the bottom of my list of possible fatal flaws for him.

Honestly, if I didn't know any better as we reach the end of the series, I'd say Apollo's fatal flaw might fall somewhere closer to poor self-esteem, insecurity and self-doubt, but for some reason, that doesn't quite fit. I'd argue that a lot of those feelings probably stem from being stuck in the inadequate body of a mortal with a tiny fraction of his usual power - of course he's going to feel like that. That, and it's almost the direct opposite of what his flaw is perceived to be by other sources, so it feels like too large a leap to me.

I'm deliberating from my point, which is this: I still have no clue what his fatal flaw is.

It's not:

narcissism

pride

OR on the other side of the spectrum:

low-self esteem

self-doubt

OR the list of things we knocked off earlier:

holding grudges

wrath

ambition

And when you compare to other characters he might also be like, I would argue he's a totally different animal. The only character I could see a similarity with is Percy. But, again, it's just not the same. Percy's flaw, excessive personal loyalty, still doesn't really fit because, while I'd argue that Apollo's never really put in a situation where he's had to choose to save the life a mortal friend over his task of restoring the Oracles, I do believe he has a strong sense of duty. No, I don't think he would sacrifice Meg's life to do that job, but it's not something we see him forced to pick between (that I can think of, at least). I like to think that, on one hand, Percy would flat-out refuse to do his duty to save the life of a friend out of principle, whereas Apollo might find a clever loophole to save the friend, do the duty, and end up doing harm to himself. If anything, while Percy would be ready to burn the world to save a friend, Apollo would be ready to burn himself first.

That, I think, is our biggest indicator. Apollo loves his friends and the world. He wears his heart on his sleeve, this is something the Triumvirate exploits to no end.

Athena tells Percy something in the PJO series (the Titan's Curse, I think?) and says that the most dangerous fatal flaws are the ones that are good in moderation. And, of course, Apollo is a main character, so naturally his fatal flaw will fall under this category.

I think Apollo's fatal flaw is of the same breed as Percy's, but isn't really the same creature. I'm sure there's a more eloquent way to put this, but it seems to me that his fatal flaw has something to do with his tendency to be self-sacrificing, easily forgiving, and empathetic. He's been stabbed in the back several times and every time chooses instead to show trust and camaraderie, to see the best in people, and give them another chance to prove themselves: with Meg, Crest, Lityerses, Luguselwa, Meg's adoptive siblings, and many, many more. That seems very dangerous in the wrong situation, yes? Especially someone in Apollo's position - there are plenty of bad people who would be ready to take advantage of this.

And what is a story if not the hero learning to overcome their fatal flaw? And, really what is the Trials of Apollo all about? How do we end? What choices does Apollo make for the future at the conclusion of the Tower of Nero that directly contradict his overwhelming urge to choose forgiveness and let others try again?

The Tower of Nero, Chapter 36

At the end of any good epic story, the hero learns to overcome their weaknesses and flaws and do the right thing regardless. For Apollo, this comes when he refuses to forgive one person: Zeus. Apollo ends his pentalogy with coming to an understanding of himself and his relationship with his father, learning to overcome that tendency see the best in everyone, and realize that not everyone can choose to change for the better like Apollo has.

EDIT: a masterlist of my other metas

[idontknowreallywhy]

Resurface 35 - Reappraise

Story to date in order (Tumblr / AO3)

Previous chapter

ART!VIRGIL KLAXON

Perhaps if you hadn’t read them before these two chapters (here and here) may make more sense of what Virgil has been drawing.

And if you missed the wee!Earth&Sky flying machine adventure, that is contained in this one and this one.

But now, onwards! Virgy-boy still has some demons to exorcise and needs Scooter to help him. Points to whoever spots the cameo from an old friend 😈

💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚

The view from Virgil’s balcony was very similar, but subtly different. They weren’t adjacent - both John’s often-empty and Dad’s always-empty room lay between - and the shift of a few metres to the left meant the light reflected off different facets of the damp rocks of Mateo and the shadows changed shape. The sea met the shore at a marginally different angle, the light refracting through the shallows and hitting the greener end of blue. Two of the trees visible from Scott’s were hidden by the curve of Roundhouse Peak.

Scott hadn’t noticed any of this before Virgil pointed it out. What he did know was that on his own the breeze was stronger and there was fractionally more sky. On a hot day he’d always advocate for the cooler, more exposed position. Where he could see as far as possible. Where he could breathe.

But on a cooler evening, there was something comforting about how the sun’s residual heat radiated from the stone and bathed Virgil’s preferred haven in a warm glow.

Virgil had added to the warmth that evening by opening a bottle of Scott’s favourite scotch which he’d clearly stashed away at some point. Had it been one of the others who produced such a thing, Scott would be waiting for ‘The Favour’ or ‘The Difficult Question’. In Gordon’s case, quite frequently ‘The Confession’.

Virgil, however, often just did it to be nice. And Virgil knew that, unlike Dad and himself, Scott preferred his liquor without rocks. He took another sip and rested his head back with a contented sigh, allowing the liquid to rest on his tongue.

“Scott?”

“Mmmmhmm?” The heat spread through his sinuses as he breathed over it.

“Can I ask you a favour?”

Oh!

The whiskey hit the back of Scott’s throat and his eyeballs burned. Virgil seemed hesitant which mean this was going to be important! He coughed and croaked out a hurried confirmation:

“Always.”

Virgil, staring out to sea, appeared not to notice his brother’s nasal passages vaporising which, again, indicated something was Up. Scott scrubbed at his eyes with a sleeve and with an iron will, forced himself to get a grip of his respiratory system. He was about to say something else encouraging when Virgil suddenly spun to face him and in a voice of utmost seriousness stated:

“It’s a weird one.”

Scott raised an amused eyebrow.

“I can do weird.”

“Would you wear it again?”

The other eyebrow joined it with vigour.

“Wear what? If you’re asking about Halloween and that cursed Superman costume, Alan beat you to it and it’s a hard no. I might be persuaded to consider Batman but only if you’re Robin.”

Virgil snorted and swirled the ice in his glass. The not ungenerous measure he’d poured himself having already disappeared.

“As you very well know I don’t do tights. Not after the Christmas debacle.”

“I think you made a lovely elf.”

“You’re deranged.”

“Yeah but you love me.”

Virgil threw an ice cube at his head before conceding: “I do. Yes.”

He then frowned.

“Scooter, are you CRYING?”

“Nope. No no I’m just… enjoying this with ALL my senses.” He raised the glass and winked.

Virgil narrowed his eyes as if invisibly scanning his brother, then with a quirk of an eyebrow seemed to conclude there was no sudden emotional devastation and released him from scrutiny. He looked back out towards Mateo and tracked the petrels swooping to and from their rocky nests.

Scott followed his line of sight and started a little. There was a small cave at the base of Mateo which was invisible from Scott’s balcony. How had he never seen that before? He was about to point it out when he realised he’d distracted Virgil from his question.

“If you didn’t mean Halloween… what are you asking?”

“Your uniform. The, uh, air force one.”

“Hell no. I’m planning to burn it. That’s not part of my life anymore.”

“That doesn’t sound very environmentally friendly…”

“Alright bury it then. Shred it and bury it. No… shred it, dissolve it in acid then bury it.”

Virgil blinked. “Have you been watching murder mystery reruns again?”

“They’re relaxing.”

“Riiiiiiight.” Despite the feigned disbelief, Scott knew that Virgil had been the one to add three hundred and thirty-six hours worth of ‘A Century of Detective Classics’ to the family server and he knew Virgil knew that he knew that he’d done it as a cunning way to tempt Scott into some downtime. Devious little brothers… who… needed reassuring, immediately.

“It hurt you so it’s got to die. Don’t worry. I don’t even want to touch it again. If Grandma hadn’t spirited it away somewhere to clean it would be gone already.”

“Oh.” Perhaps imbibing scotch straight into his brain had slowed him down, but Virgil didn’t seem as reassured as Scott had intended.

“Don’t you need it for Ash’s dinner? You should go to that, it’s important.”

“I’ll work something out.”

“Oh, ok.” Virgil went quiet again and Scott realised he’d given the wrong answer somehow but wasn’t quite sure how to change it.

“What’s on your mind, Virgil?”

He sighed and cracked his knuckles one by one, making Scott cringe.

“Would you… um, would you wear it once more if… I… for me to… uh…”

“For you?! But… I don’t understand! It made you so unwell? I thought you hated it?”

“I did. I do. But… I don’t want to carry that fear anymore, I can’t be scared of CLOTHES. It’s… I just can’t. It’s ridiculous. And, well… and I was thinking perhaps if I was prepared… if it wasn’t a surprise… it might… I might not react quite so badly? My last memory of it wouldn’t be… uh… so heavy? And maybe I could finish my book.”

“Your book?” Now Scott was really bewildered.

Virgil put down his glass and disappeared into his suite, returning swiftly with one of the large black ring-bound pads of thick art paper the like of which Scott had seen many times. This one was more battered than most and his little brother clutched it to his chest for a moment then cleared his throat awkwardly as he sat down.

“I found it when I was hunting for a sketch I wanted to work up for the exhibition next month. Some of them aren’t… very nice. I was going to just throw it away but Gordon thinks I should complete it… finish the story.”

“Gordon’s seen it?” Scott wasn’t actually jealous, he was relieved to discover - the little snakelike green monster’s appearance seemed to have been limited to the ‘other’ version of himself. But he found himself kind of intrigued that their fish brother was apparently giving art advice these days.

Virgil rolled his eyes and growled quietly. “You know what he’s like… I foolishly tried to hide it when he burst into the room and of course he noticed and he wouldn’t let up until I showed him.”

“May I see?”

Virgil chewed his lip and nodded. Scott shuffled his lounger closer such that they were shoulder to shoulder and felt his jaw drop as Virgil opened to the first page and he saw a vivid recreation in pastel of his toddler self proudly holding a tiny baby Virgil, Mom and Dad hovering in the background. The baby’s fingers were wrapped tightly around his thumb and Virgil had sketched several enlarged views of their chubby hands in pencil along the bottom.

He turned the pages slowly and Scott saw several scenes he definitely recognised from childhood photographs and some he thought must have come from Virgil’s memory. They paddled in a watercolour sea together, rode their bikes in oils, Scott dangled upside down from a charcoal tree with chalky Virgil underneath, arms stretched upwards. There was a cartoon school bus with a dimpled stickman waving from the window.

He smiled as he recognised the two of them with the flying machine on the roof, although he remembered it as much sturdier than the painting suggested. The faded but detailed cross-section taped in to the next double page disabused him of that impression. This one was covered in his own scrawly handwriting. Scott chuckled and raised a hand to the scar on his jaw.

“Oh DEAR, I’d thought it was a much better design than that!”

“Hmmmm.” Virgil rumbled “The basic concept was sound but the materials and our duct tape-biased construction methods left something to be desired and yeah… your “math” was a touch… shaky…”

Virgil smiled and turned over to another cross-section, only this time of a much more elegant design which was surrounded by small sketches of joints and diagrams showing balanced forces, each with the appropriate calculations painstakingly recorded in Virgil’s neat handwriting.

Scott gasped as he realised that this… this could work. Who was he kidding - it was Virgil’s design - of course it would work.

“You fixed it!”

“I did. I felt… bad that we never tried again and you didn’t get your moment.”

“My moment?! Virgil! I nearly killed us both!”

“You were only eleven.”

“Even so…” Scott tried very hard not to think of all the occasions since then when he hadn’t had ‘being only eleven’ as an excuse but the more he tried the more of them bubbled up in his memory like some kind of noxious gas polluting his only fresh water source. No. They were past this now… it was better. Things were changing. He was changing.

“I guess I had this idea that I could build it and if… if you ever came back…” he shook his head “it was just a silly…”

“No.” Scott interrupted, grabbing his arm and pressing his forehead into the side of Virgil’s head. “Not silly. Thoughtful. Ingenious. Seeing the potential in an idea and making it work? Very… YOU.”

Virgil gave a small smile and turned back to the book. Scott felt himself blush at page after page of sketches, all of himself - as a wide eyed child, a cocky teenager winking, a laughing adult flipping pancakes… even a few where he had apparently sprouted falcon wings, one where Virgil had them too.

Scott couldn’t imagine how many hours these must have taken to create

“When did you do all this?”

As soon as the words had left his mouth he knew it was a stupid question. Virgil shrugged and turned the page.

“When you were gone.”

Scott put his arm around Virgil’s shoulders and squeezed as he turned again, seemingly keen not to linger on any one image.

A blazing sun burned out of the page, the wall of colour marred only by a silhouette of the falcon-winged man, clearly falling, curled in on himself as the wings trailed limply behind, the dark shapes of lost feathers becoming larger and more detailed towards the top. No prizes for spotting the reference there. The real sun, heading swiftly towards the horizon seemed to lose most of its heat and a modern day Icarus-but-for-Many-Miraculous-Escapes wondered yet again how he could have been so blind.

If that one gave him a chill, the next made him shiver, the warmth from the whiskey had now entirely dissipated - a faint pencil outline Scott holding a heavily shadowed Virgil in his arms. Then… there was that same Air Force Grad photo, reproduced in a dozen different styles. The last one almost photo-realistic but crossed through in heavy red pen.

Virgil tried to skip several pages but Scott gently took his hand and turned back. He recognised the image of the crashing jet, over and over… pencil drawn, painted, scratched with a blade into a thick black layer of wax crayon. There followed a page solely of fire. Skeletal outlines of fighter jets. Storms. Crowds of agonised faces. An incredibly detailed map of Bereznik decorated with vicious-looking black insects.

The last few pages shocked Scott the most - all the pictures were drawn on scraps of paper, and then glued in. The largest was a drawing in black ballpoint pen of an almost unrecognisable bearded stranger in a hospital bed, covered in bandages and tubes. There were smaller pencil studies of bruised hands, a foot, an ear, eyebrows over sunken eye sockets, a nearly skeletal chin with a scar… his scar. Scott swallowed hard - he’d looked that bad?

One smaller image stood out as it had clearly been screwed into a ball before being flattened out to stick on to the page. Scott’s younger self winked and laughed up at him from behind the creases, one arm wrapped around a huge box of popcorn, the other hand reaching out of the page towards him. Virgil had clearly got hold of a blue ballpoint pen for this one and had skilfully used it to produce a rainbow’s worth of blue shades. The picture somehow gleamed at him and Scott felt the green serpent stir in his gut. He bit the side of his tongue and motioned for Virgil to turn over to the next.

The very last page contained only the sky in vivid shades of blue with light wisps of cloud: Virgil’s starting place.

Scott swallowed hard as he realised Gordon hadn’t been giving art advice at all.

“I put it away when dad brought you home.”

“It’s… Wow…”

“It was an outlet.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Scotty.”

“Not all of it. Some things though.”

He pulled his brother close again and planted a kiss in his hair.

“So how do you want to finish it?”

💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙💚💙

Next chapter

[lokavisi]

So about two nights ago, I had a really solid conversation with Loki. A friend got some cues from him through their pendulum, we were both very confused, and then my wife (who barely gives a shit about the Guy lol) interprets this message so pristinely. It was like getting slapped upside the head when she gave her explanation. So I started free writing to continue the conversation more directly with Loki. There were a few big points made in this conversation.

First, he expressed frustration that, in spite of working with him for 4 years now, I still don't seem to "get" him. Like I keep coming to him to vent about some bullshit that's winding me up, he offers a suggestion to help me unwind, and then I brush it off or forget or just straight up ignore it. So he was like, "I've been telling you the same shit for 4 years now... It feels like you're just fundamentally ignoring all the parts of me that make me, ME." So...naturally I felt really fucking stupid and shitty.

Then he very lovingly affirmed that "this isn't me being facetious or angry or trying to put you down. I'm frustrated and irritated, yes, but surely you do realize by now that I fucking love you and you're stuck with me." This meant a lot to me more so than it might for others because my ADHD comes with mad rejection sensitivity dysphoria. Any time anyone says something that indicates some level of upset at me, my brain catastrophizes and breaks down because "clearly" it means they hate me. (This is basically never the case.) This leads me to the primary nugget of wisdom that came from this conversation.

I realized this whole time (once my wife interpreted the initial message) I was hearing him more clearly than I had in a long time. It was nearly as if a physical person sat next to me speaking. As the conversation was wrapping up, I made a note of this and asked, "Why do I feel l hear you clearest when you're frustrated with me?" We've had plenty of similar conversations, and when I look back at past moments when I simply couldn't deny the messages were coming from outside myself, he usually had some level of frustration with me. But to answer my question, he said:

"Because that's all you wanna hear. That's all you think you deserve. Even when you seek love or comfort and I provide, you don't always fully receive it. I try to be funny to cheer you up and you won't have it, just calling me stupid. You are terrible at receiving input that doesn't put you down or reinforce any negative thoughts you believe about yourself. So stop it. Seriously. Fucking stop believing bad shit about yourself."

He went on to talk about the rune readings I did for a bunch you on here (thanks again for the practice❤️), and how I should be pumping myself up from all the positive feedback I got from it. And we exchanged some jokes and "I love you"'s before calling it a night.

As per usual, I share my story in a giant block of text to remind everyone of what Loki reminded me: to not just take in the messaging that supports a negative view of yourself. Allow yourself to believe that you are the gods' gift to humanity. (I just heard him say, "Seriously. I do it all the time. It works wonders for your self-esteem." 😂❤️) Maybe that verbage doesn't have the greatest connotations, but the point is to think more highly of yourself. Believe in the power and confidence that you possess. Even if it doesn't feel like you have either of these things, fake it til you make it - until you realize they've been here this whole time.

I'm on this struggle bus, too, y'all. We're gonna find ourselves together. Hail Loki ❤️

[reel-fear]

Genuinely so curious who Mike thinks is gonna be buying The Cage or the new DCTL GN bc with the way he tweets as far as he's concerned, it's not gonna be:

The queer people he has actively admitted he will never show any representation of in the games.

2. The POC he has actively fought against representing in his franchise. [Who he also mocked for thinking they would be represented in his franchise]

3. The Bendy fandom which has always been concerned with topics of diversity esp in the sense of queer people since its creation. Who he has responded to really poorly esp in regards to the GN.

4. The fans who critique him. [He blocked me for doing so lol]

5. His fans in general who he tweets about like this currently. [He's being vague about why people were mad at him or sent him 'nasty messages' because if you actually looked into why you'd see he was in the wrong. Either way, a very hateful way to speak abt ur own fanbase.]

Reminder while Mike is trash talking his fans he has always treated them rather poorly. The fans who won the fanart contest for Chapter 5 never got their posters actually in game due to it being rushed. Not only was chapter 5 a big slap to the face story wise, but it was literally so rushed he couldn't be bothered to add in the art his fans gave him for his game FOR FREE. [Meatly blames this on a crazy timeline, reminder him and Mike are the literal ceos of this company. The proposal of future updates here is also pretty cruel considering Mike nowadays happily admits he corrupted Chapter 5's source code and therefore literally can't update it At All currently. Because he is a moron]

At least they got to be in Boris and the dark survival, and by that I mean that was the Only game they got to be in so far, isn't that just treating your fans like you love them? Shoving their hard work into a spin off game almost nobody has played or addresses much. [Hell, who knows if with the Lone Wolf rebrand they'll even stay there. In which case they'll be in None of the games, only in the credits of BATIM]

6. The Bendy fans who just generally disagree with him on stuff. Like the new ink demon design where there is literally a public poll showing people generally prefer the old one.

7. The Bendy fans who can see he is actively lying to them. To their fucking faces.

He says this has always been the case, but screenshots and links to tweets regarding the books being canon prove it was not. Does he really think bendy fans are stupid or something? [Unless he's admitting here he lied to Kress when he told her the books were canon which sounds worse!]

8. Anyone who doesn't like the idea of giving money to a guy who laid off tons of employees then afterwards thought it was a great idea to express his anti-union views! Also brag about how good of an employer he was, according to his employees, he was not!

So in summary; Mike is an awful person who has not learned anything from the awful things he did. I will not be purchasing The Cage because, combined with this and his absolute refusal to take any kind of critique or see any differing interpretation of his franchise, I have no reason to think my problems with the franchise will ever be addressed or fixed. I probably will pirate The Cage along with any future Bendy Products [Including the movie] and will do my best to avoid giving it any kind of monetary support. Unless this changes any time soon, I can't see myself making anymore positive Bendy posts soon.

Mike has just managed to make it so hard to speak positively or optimistically of this franchise when he's so willing to broadcast how little he cares about it or its fans. I'm at the point where I refuse to pull any of my punches with my problems with it. What's the point of trying to play nice with my critique when either way the people creating it don't care?

So with this post, I want to invite anyone who feels similarly about the franchise to tell me, make a post or send an ask talking about how all of this makes you feel. It may not change how things are, but genuinely seeing other people share my feelings of anger makes me feel better. It feels nice to see when other people share our same concerns and worries. I'd also love to know if anyone else thinks they'll be avoiding purchasing Bendy products over this.

I'm not forcing anyone to participate in it nor trying to say anyone who doesn't supports mike but genuinely maybe if we can collectively decide to boycott things like the movie, graphic novel and The Cage... It might at least make the bendy devs acknowledge how much they have destroyed their own fandom's faith and trust in them.

The way Mike tweets about his actions like he had no control over why people were mad at him at least proves to me he takes NONE of it back nor regrets it. If you didn't know about his actions and only went off his tweets, you would be led to believe Mike has been needlessly picked apart by fans over things he couldn't control [or in his own words, had his words twisted and taken out of context]. That is not how you speak about your actions if you have actually learned better from them.

anyway, that has been my bendy dev callout post. This is an open invitation to anyone feeling similarly upset about the way the franchise is going to talk about it. It's genuinely nice to see how people feel about this and the more we talk about the more it's likely the bendy devs are forced to address our concerns. I don't think they will but hey, that's why I'm not gonna support them with my money anymore nor am I gonna be nice to them in any content I make critiquing Bendy. I mean I'm also basically making this post just in case anyone asks me Why I feel this way towards to bendy devs/as a way to respond to anyone who thinks I am too harsh in my critique in the future.

As always, it seems the best part of Bendy isn't actually anything about canon but about what the fan's are creating with the ideas Bendy failed to do anything interesting with.

Also the books, the books slap.

[avastrasposts]

A Baker's Dozen - Ten

A collection of fun and fluffy one shots set in the same bakery. Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stories, twelve recipes.

Hello!

I'm getting to the end of my twelve Pedro boys, only two more to visit the bakery after this one! I'll be sad to see them go, it's been a lot of fun writing all these meet cutes in the same setting and exploring their different voices and personalities. But it's not over yet, so please enjoy this sweetheart.

Your little bakery has two large windows out onto the street, and it gives you a good view of people walking by, especially when the bakery is quiet. This Friday morning you’re on your own in the shop, working on decorating a cake for a naming ceremony. Having an elaborate cake out on the counter, decorating it as people walk past, is good marketing you’ve realized. And it makes for excellent people watching as you straighten up from your hunched up position and stretch your back. 

This morning, from the corner of your eye, as you put your arms over your head and crack your neck, you spot a man you’re sure you’ve already seen hanging around outside the window for some a while. He’s walked past a few times and now he’s nervously hovering around the front door, glancing in through the window. As you spot him, his face breaks into a bright smile, lighting up his eyes and he raises his hand in a wave. Pointing at the door he mouths ‘Can I come in?’, his face even brighter when you nod. It’s impossible to not smile back at him, you feel your mood lifting just as by him coming in through the front door. 

“Hello, you are already open?” he asks as the door closes behind him and he comes up to the counter, still looking a bit uncertain but giving you a wide smile. There’s an accent to his voice, Italian you think, or maybe Spanish, and his caramel colored curls are perfectly swept back from his friendly face, perfectly matching the expensive looking red shirt he’s wearing. 

“Officially not until eight, but since I’m here, you’re more than welcome in,” you smile at him and wipe your hands free from the icing you’re working with. He gives you a worried frown, half turning back to the door as if to leave. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, if you’re not open yet I won’t disturb you,” he says, “I don’t want to interrupt your beautiful work.” 

“No, no, please come in, you’re not interrupting,” you say, waving him forward again, “I need a break, my hands get tired doing this for too long.”  

You smile at him as he comes up to the counter and looks at the cake you’re working on, “What can I help you with?” 

“I was intrigued by the decorations on the cake, they are real flowers?” he asks, pointing at the delicate daisy you’ve just attached to a section of the cake. 

“No, they’re made with sugar,” you explain, “I make them separately and then attach them to the cake.” 

“They look real to me,” he says with wide eyes as he leans forward and looks closer at the daisy chain trailing across the cake, “you’re a true artist, they are incredible.” 

“Thank you,” you smile. You know your sugar flowers always impress people but you never tire of hearing it. The fiddly nature of the work makes them difficult to get just right and you’re proud of your ability to make them almost lifelike. 

“I’m in town for a few days,” the man says, straightening up again and glancing over his shoulder out at the street, “A very boring conference for work, I wanted to take a walk before it starts up again, and I saw your…” he wrinkles his forehead, waving at the bread in the baskets behind you, “I forgot the word in English,” he says apologetically, “your breaderia? No, that doesn’t sound right…” 

“My bakery,” you smile, “What language do you speak?” 

“Spanish,” he replies, his bright brown eyes lighting up as he turns back to you, “It’s panadería in Spanish.” 

“Oh, a breaderia!” you giggle, “That makes sense!” 

“¿Hablas español?” he asks and you shake your head and hold up your thumb and finger half an inch apart. 

“Un poco,” you reply, “I learnt some in high school but I forgot most of it, I only know panadería because well…” you laugh and wave your hand around the bakery and he laughs with you. 

“I’m Javi, by the way,” he says, holding out his hand to you, but you hold your hand up and show him the sticky and colorful sugar stuck to them.

“Nice to meet you, Javi, but if I shake your hand I’ll make a mess. I need to go and clean up,” you say with a smile and nod towards the kitchen, “I’ll be right back, and then I can take your order, if you want to order something, that is.”

“Yes, please, I would love to try everything but I’ll try to choose only one thing,” he chuckles, scanning the display cases as you go back to the sink in the kitchen. When you come back out after a few minutes, Javi gives you an unhappy look. 

“I can’t decide, everything looks too good, you are too talented for my stomach to make it’s mind up.” 

You laugh and walk around the counter and stand next to him, “What’s your favorite flavor? Maybe I can help you narrow it down?”

“I love everything….” he says, “I was always very bad at deciding, when I was a child my cousin would get angry with me for taking too long and then he’d decide for me.” 

“Did he pick what you liked at least?” 

“No, he always picked what he liked so it was a very bad deal for me,” he looks up at you with a grin, “I’m sorry, I must sound like the most pathetic person, I assure you I can make my mind up,” he laughs. 

“You don’t sound pathetic, Javi,” you smile, “but your cousin sounds impatient.”  

“That he is…you have no idea,” he replies and turns back to the rows of baked goods with a shudder. 

“The lemon meringue pie looks very nice, and the carrot cake too,” he mumbles, leaning forward and scanning the cakes again.” 

“What’s your favorite?” you ask, “Maybe I have it, or something like it.” 

“Hmm…” Javi hums, turning back to you and frowning as he considers your question, “I think…my absolute favorite is a small cake I’ve had in Paris many times, with vanilla and rum,” he says, “they’re called canelés, do you know them?” 

“I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never had them,” you say, shaking your head and Javi’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline in surprise. 

“You’ve never had them? They are very delicious, caramel and almost crunchy on the outside, creamy vanilla and rum on the inside…” he trails off, the tip of his pink tongue coming out to lick his bottom lip as he salivates and you giggle. 

“You look like you got caught in a daydream, they’re really that good?” 

He nods and grins at you, “They really are, you should make them sometime, I know I would come and buy them all.” 

“Do you know how to make them?” you ask and he shrugs, giving you a small smile. 

“I tried a few times, following a YouTube video at home,” he says, “but I didn’t have the right thing to bake them in…and then I got distracted and…they burnt…” he gives you an embarrassed little grin, “I’m not a very good baker.” 

“Now you've got me curious, Javi,” you laugh, “I need to find a recipe, come on,” you motion him to follow you back into the kitchen where you open your bookshelf, dropping down the desk to show off the rows of baking books neatly lined up. Javi trails in behind you, his smile widening as he sees your book collection. 

“So many books on baking!” he exclaims, coming over to run his fingers along the spines as you look for a specific book. 

“I have more at home,” you say, “these are mainly for more technical recipes that I need to reference. At home I have the ones I use for inspiration when I’m looking for something new to make.” 

You grab a book on French baking and pull it off the shelf, “This one I think has a recipe on canelés.” 

Javi comes to stand next to you as you place it on the desk and open the book’s index. You can smell his cologne as the warmth of his body radiates in the small space between you. He smells…expensive, a rich sandalwood scent laced with citrus and something sweet underneath that tugs at your memory as you inhale. Glancing up at him you’re met by warm brown eyes looking at you with curiosity and a small smile. 

“You…you smell good, Javi,” you stutter out, “I just noticed.” 

His smile curves up and he seems to shrug, shaking off the compliment, “Thank you, you smell good too, I was just thinking, you don’t smell like your bakery at all,” he says, a pink tinge creeping up his neck, “you smell like…” he purses his lips as he thinks for a second, “la toronja?” 

“I don’t know what that is, but I hope it’s a nice smell,” you giggle and he laughs with a nod. 

“I’m sorry, such a bad compliment when I can’t even tell you what it is,” he chuckles. 

“Describe it to me then,” you say, “I’d like to know what it is.”

“Like an orange, but bigger, and not as sweet,” Javi says, holding up his hands to show you the size. 

“Oh, a grapefruit?” you ask and he slaps his forehead. 

“Ah! Yes, a grapefruit, I knew that,” he laughs, “you smell like grapefruit, it’s very nice, you smell very nice.” 

“Thank you, it’s my body wash, it’s grapefruit scented” you smile back at him and then look down at the book again, flipping back to the index, “here, canelés,” you say and turn to the right page and Javi looks down too. 

“Oh, they take three days to make,” you say, skimming the recipe, “the batter has to rest three days in the fridge before it can bake.” You glance back at the clock on the wall, in about half an hour your morning rush will begin, you won’t have time to make the batter now. 

“I’ll have to make the batter this evening and then I can bake them on Monday, but I guess you won’t be in town then?” 

Javi shrugs next to you, “I was thinking of staying and exploring the city a little while, I can stay until Monday.”

“Ok, then I’ll have them for you on Monday afternoon. If you want, we can try them together, fresh from the oven. I'd love to get your opinion on them since I’ve never had them before,” you smile and close the book and turn to go back into the shop. 

Javi clears his throat nervously and stops you. 

“I wonder,” he says, his hands twitching at his sides and he clamps them together in front of himself, “I wonder, if maybe, I can help you in the shop today?” 

“You want to work in the shop?” you ask, your eyebrows shooting up into your hairline as Javi gives you a small smile. 

“Yes, it’s nice here, and…you seem very nice,” he says, the pink tinge creeping higher up his neck, “and I would like to learn more about baking and I thought, maybe I could…” he trails off, shaking his head, “never mind, it’s a stupid idea, why would you want me in your way all day. I’ll leave now,” he huffs, and walks past you, into the shop before you find your voice.

“Wait, Javi,” you call after him, hurrying into the shop, “Working in a bakery isn’t very exciting but if you really want to stay, of course you can. I won’t mind, I mean…I think you’re nice too.” 

The smile Javi gives you is blinding, his face lights up as he comes back over to you. 

“You’re sure? You won’t mind?” 

“No, not at all, grab an apron in the back while I open the shop, the morning crowd is about to turn up,” you smile at him and he nods, giving you another excited smile before he grabs one of the clean aprons. 

You flip the sign, put out your street sign and come back to Javi proudly standing behind the counter, but struggling a bit with the knot on his apron. 

“Here, let me help you,” you say, “do the strap like this…” you reach up around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, “if you turn it like this it won’t slip.” With your hands around his neck, adjusting the strap, his soft curls brushing over your wrists as his eyes are on yours, you suddenly notice how still he’s standing, and how close he is. The warmth of him filters through your own apron and shirt, and you can see the rise and fall of his chest where his deep red shirt sits open just in front of your eyes. 

“Thank you,” he mumbles softly and you look up at his eyes. He draws a small breath, holding it for a few seconds as your fingers smooth out the strap around his neck, before slowly exhaling and you watch his lips part. 

When the bell above the door jingles, you jump apart as if fire suddenly erupted, and you quickly turn to the first customer. You immediately recognise the tight gray curls of Mrs Levinson, closing the door behind her and coming over to the counter. 

“Good morning, Mrs Levinson, you’re early today,” you give her your bright customer service smile and beside you Javi mumbles a low ‘Good morning’. 

“Good morning, dear,” the elderly lady says, “and who is this handsome man?” she winks at Javi who stutters over his reply. 

“I’m J-Javi, I’m helping in the bakery today,” he gives Mrs Levinson a nervous smile, “What may I serve you today?” 

“Oh, what a sweet boy,” Mrs Levinson smiles, “and you make such a beautiful couple.” 

You raise your eyebrows and bite back a snort, next to you Javi seems to be choking on something. 

“What can I get you, Mrs Levinson, the usual?” you ask, giving Javi a gentle pat on the back as he finds his composure again. 

“I’d like a dark rye please dear, and six poppy seed bagels,” she replies, “and something sweet for my afternoon coffee too, I think.” She scans the selection and taps the glass, “Give me four of these Millionaire’s shortbread things. Mrs Morales is coming over and she wants to try something new.” 

“Of course,” you say, grabbing a pair of tongs and handing them to Javi, “Put four of them in one of the small boxes, please, and I’ll get Mrs Levinson’s bread.” 

Javi nods and does as instructed, putting the box of shortbread on the counter in front of Mrs Levinson with a bright smile. 

“There you go, Mrs Levinson, anything else I may help you with?” 

“No, thank you, my dear, that’s all for now, what do I owe you?” 

You tally up the total on the till and help the old lady count out the money. As you hand her the change she takes a dollar bill and pushes it across the counter to Javi. 

“Such a sweetheart,” she smiles at you, before taking her bag, “Make sure to hang on to him, he’s bound to bring you extra customers.” She gives Javi a wink and makes her way out of the shop. You barely hold your laughter inside until the door has closed behind her and you turn to Javi, who’s grinning widely with pink cheeks.  

“Well, now you know Mrs Levinson,” you laugh and he chuckles. 

“Now I know Mrs Levinson,” he nods, fanning himself with his hands, making you giggle at his expression, “Are all your customers so…forward?” 

“Thankfully, no, only Mrs Levinson and her crew,” you grin, ”I hope she didn’t scare you off, do you still want to stay here today?” 

“Yes, please, I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity of being called a ‘sweetheart’ but nice old ladies,” he laughs and you giggle again.

“Alright then, I’ll let you handle all my elderly ladies, they’re going to love you, Javi,” you say, moving behind him to turn on the espresso machine, “Do you want a coffee?” 

The day passes quickly with Javi’s company, even when the shop quietens down in the afternoon he keeps your mind occupied with questions about your favorite movies while you prepare the batter for the canéles. The bakery fills with the rich vanilla scent as you cut the pod and scrape the seeds into the batter. 

“I can’t believe I never thought about that!” you exclaim as Javi laughs, “But you’re totally right, Indiana Jones only helped them find it faster, his actions have no real impact on the entire movie!” 

“I had to rewatch ‘Raiders’ so many times to make sure,” Javi grins, “I couldn’t believe it either, but he really does nothing that stops them from getting the Ark.” 

“So crazy, I can’t believe I never thought about that,” you say as you reach up to grab the rum bottle from your liquor storage. 

“Santa Teresa,” Javi says, nodding his approval, “That’s what my father always drank, you’ve got good taste, and expensive rum.” 

“Only the best for my cakes,” you smile, measuring out three tablespoons and one extra for luck. Behind you Javi is rummaging around, looking for something and he’s grinning when he comes up to you with two glasses. 

“It’s too good to only go into cakes, let’s drink some, to celebrate my new career as a baker,” he says with a bright smile that makes it impossible to not smile back at him. 

“A great idea, but I’ve got better glasses in the shop, follow me, and grab the bottle, Javi,” you say, taking his hand and pulling him with you back out to the shop. 

“Here, these are better,” you say, handing him your nice glasses, “do the honors.” 

You jump up on the counter as Javi pours the drinks, handing you a glass of the dark liquid and you take it, holding it up to him. 

“To the best shop assistant I’ve ever had, with endless film knowledge, fantastic customer service skills and all around great guy.” You clink your glass with Javi’s and a pink blush creeps up his neck again as he takes a sip. 

“Thanks,” he smiles, leaning on the counter on the other side, smacking his lips at the flavor of the dark rum, “I had fun, and now I know a lot about running a bakery.” He gives you another warm smile, lifting his glass in a salute to you again, and you both sip slowly, the rum sliding down smooth and warm into your chest. 

“Weren’t you supposed to be at a conference today?” you ask, suddenly remembering that he’d mentioned something about it this morning when he first came in.

“Yes, but who cares?” he shrugs with a sheepish grin, “I’m sure no one will miss me, and this was much more enjoyable,” Javi gives you one of his warm smiles, his bright eyes softening as you smile back at him. 

“Did you really like working here today?” you ask and he nods. 

“Truly, I had more fun today than I’ve had at work in a long time,” he says, coming to stand next to you. 

He’s so tall, almost level with you up on the counter as your eyes meet. You give him a small smile and he smiles back, a deep dimple in his cheek as he absentmindedly runs a hand through his soft curls, not as orderly now as they were this morning. A loose curl falls over his forehead and without thinking, you give in to the temptation you’ve been fighting all day, and reach forward to push it back again. Javi reaches up and catches your hand in his, pulling it down so that he can rub his thumb over your palm, his eyes locked on yours. The tip of his tongue comes out to wet his lips and the movement makes you look down at his lips, Javi takes a slow step closer, his fingers closing around your hand. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his soft voice the only sound in the shop as you look up at him again. There’s a heated look in his eyes suddenly, and as you nod, he bends his head to yours, his hand moving up and gently cupping your cheek. 

The jingle of the bell pulls you apart, both of you looking at the door as Javi steps away from you. 

“Mr Gutierrez, you’re needed back at the hotel.” 

The man who’s stepped through the front door is dressed in a driver’s uniform and is looking somewhat exasperated with Javi behind the counter, “Your phone is off and your assistant has been trying to reach you all day.” 

Javi looks back at you and flashes a guilty grin before he looks back at the driver. 

“I’ll be right there, Marco, I’ve just been busy today.” 

“Of course, sir,” the driver gives a curt nod and turns around, the door jingling again as he leaves. 

“I’m sorry,” Javi says, turning back to you, his hand had slipped from your cheek as he stepped back, and you feel the loss of it as a warm imprint on your skin, “It seems I was missed at work after all. I would’ve liked to have stayed here longer, but I have to go.” 

“Of course,” you say, feeling the disappointment creep up as Javi grabs his phone, “It was really nice having you here, Javi.” 

He turns back to you with an uncertain small smile, holding his phone tight in his hand. 

“Can I, I mean, if you want, I’d like to come back…on Monday. To finish the canelés,” he says, his eyebrows bunching up, looking at you with worried eyes. 

“Yes, of course,” you say, excitement bubbling inside you as you see his smile creep back up and he takes a relieved gulp of air. 

“Ok, great! Thank you!” he grins and glances out through the window at his driver who is looking at you both, before he turns back to you, “I’ll see you Monday, ok?” 

“Monday, come by at noon, we’ll bake the canelés together,” you say, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek on impulse. His cologne from this morning still lingers, but it’s mixed with his warm sweat, coffee from a stain on his shirt, and something that must be his own comforting scent. For a split second you fight the urge to lean your head on his shoulder and rest your nose against the soft skin of his neck. Instead you pull back and meet his soft, brown eyes smiling at you. 

“Get going, or your driver will yell at us,” you say, putting your hand on his arm, giving him a little nudge as he chuckles. 

“Yeah, he can be a bit intimidating,” he says and walks around the counter, “Until Monday then.” He waves and disappears out through the door, and you watch as the driver stands to attention and opens the door to the back seat. 

Javi flashes you a smile through the window before he disappears into the car, and you turn back to the kitchen to clean up. 

You’re surprised to see Javi already waiting by the bakery when you turn up a quarter to twelve on Monday and flip on the lights inside. He’s sitting on the steps outside the front door, oblivious to you arriving through the back door, and it gives you an opportunity to study him as you walk across the shop. He runs his hand through his hair as you watch, the curls bouncing back and he lightly scratches at his neck before leaning his cheek in his hand. From behind you can see the saffron yellow shirt he’s wearing stretch tight across his broad shoulders, the bunched muscles a sharp contrast to the softness of his features. 

You lightly tap the window in the door and Javi turns around, his face already bright as you give him a wave. Unlocking the door you let him in as he brushes down the seat of his pants. 

“Hi,” you say, taking a step back to let him get past you before you lock up again, “You’re early, I hope you didn’t wait long.” 

“Hi,” he replies, shaking his head, “No, just a few minutes, I was too eager so I left the hotel early and walked here.” 

He’s standing in front of you, a small smile toying with the corner of his mouth and you’re suddenly reminded of where you’d been interrupted on Friday. Shyness takes over and you quickly take his hand. 

“Come on, we’ve got baking to do,” you say as you pull him with you towards the kitchen, taking the chance to recompose yourself as he follows behind you. 

“I’ve been looking forward to this all weekend,” you hear him muse,  “And not only the canelés,” he adds as you step into the kitchen and let go of his hand, “I had a great time on Friday, I…I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again…if that’s ok to say?” 

You turn back to him, he’s standing in the doorway into the kitchen, a small worry frown between his eyebrows as his fingers twitch nervously by his side, something he seems to do when he’s unsure of himself. You bite your bottom lip, trying to contain the smile that’s threatening to spill over as you look at Javi, taking a few tentative steps back towards him. 

“I’ve been looking forward to it too, Javi,” you give him a shy smile, coming close enough to smell his fresh cologne, to see the smattering of golden freckles on his neck, as you look up at him. Javi sems to let out a deep rush of air, his shoulders sinking several inches, and smiles down at you. 

“No driver this time, Javi,” you whisper, leaning closer and he mimics your movement. 

“No driver,” he echos, and the warmth of his arm presses against your waist as he closes the last few inches between you. You can feel his thumb skim over your cheek when he cups your face, his soft tongue gently running across your lips until you part them, and let him in with a low sigh. His kisses are soft, gentle presses as you melt into him, his arm around your waist holding you close to his chest while your hand finds the curls at the nape of his neck. A low rumble comes from him, groaned into your mouth, as your fingers wrap around the soft strands and lightly tug him closer. 

You hadn’t thought about what to expect from Javi’s kisses, but as soft and affable as he was, you’d never have expected him to kiss you like this. As his initial shyness retreats, his hand on you becomes firm, holding you up against him as he makes you moan into his mouth, pulling back just a fraction to catch his breath before he presses his lips against yours again. His tongue teases you as he nips on your bottom lip, finding news spots to explore. He groans into you as you wind your fingers around his soft strands of hair, returning his nips by gently biting down on his plush bottom lip and he rewards you with a downright sinful moan, fingers digging into your hips as he pulls you closer. 

You couldn’t say how much time passes, you catch your breath in small gasps between clamant kisses, heat rising between you, the pebbled skin on his neck looking almost too tempting as you pull back a little again. You run your fingertips over his skin, tracing down from his jaw, over his smattering of freckles, Javi shuddering under your touch as he opens his eyes and looks down at you with hooded lids. 

“Even better than I imagined,” he mumbles, his eyes drifting closed again as you kiss a particularly sweet looking cluster of freckles on his throat, your tongue coming out to taste his skin. 

“You too, Javi,” you whisper in reply, looking up at him and he opens his eyes again, smiling now in that soft way that makes you think of a sweet puppy, his dark brown eyes gentle and tender. 

Running the pad of your index finger over his cushy bottom lip, giggling as he playful tries to nip at it, you smile back at him. 

“Should we make those canelés maybe? They have to bake for about an hour,” you say, “We’ll have time for more of this,” and Javi nods, carefully untangling himself from you, his warm arm leaving your waist. 

“I agree, let's make them quickly and then get back to this,” he grins, “Where is the batter? And what do you want me to do?” 

You reach up and give him a quick kiss on the mouth, smiling at his eagerness, “First we need to grease the molds,” you say, pulling him with you towards the shelf full of different baking pans, “We need these, I got them over the weekend,” you take down six copper molds, “and beeswax.” 

“Beeswax?” Javi asks, taking the molds from you as you open the fridge to get the wax. 

“Yeah, traditionally they’re greased with beeswax to really caramelize the outside of the canelés and stop them from sticking,” you explain, unwrapping the small cube of food grade wax, “Wash your hands and I’ll show you how to do it.” 

Melting together the butter and wax is quick work and then you show Javi how to brush the inside of the molds with the mixture as you fill up the ones he’s finished. The batter smells richly of rum and vanilla and Javi inhales deeply and leans down to kiss you. 

“You are so clever, they smell delicious,” he hums, stealing another kiss, “and they’re not even baked yet.” 

“Thank you, Javi,” you smile into his third kiss as he nips at your bottom lip again, “but they’ll be better baked, come on,” laughing you gently push him off you and he gives you a mischievous grin.  

He helps you prep a tray and then you place the molds on it and put the whole thing in the oven, setting a timer. Javi pulls your back into his chest as soon as you close the oven door, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Now, more time for this,” he mutters, dropping his chin onto your shoulder and pressing a kiss just under your ear. 

“More time for this,” you mumble your agreement, turning your head so that the cool tip of his nose rests against your throat. You can feel his warm breath on your skin, the smell of the vanilla and rum in the kitchen, the low hum of the hot air oven and Javi’s lips as he moves them over your skin. It all blends together into a rosy haze, your eyes slipping closed as you reach up and caress his curls. Javi mumbles something in Spanish that you don’t catch, your brain going sluggish under the feeling of his wet mouth trailing over every inch of skin he can reach. Somewhere in the back of your head you’re wondering how you’ll be able to handle an hour of this and not end up on the floor with him on top, the sizeable hard length that you can feel pressed against the back of your thigh right now, sliding in- 

The gentle melody of Javi’s phone signal cuts through your train of thought, making you snap your eyes open and Javi lets go of you, fumbling in his pants for the offending item. He gives you an apologetic look as he answers the phone in Spanish. As he speaks you start cleaning up the workbench and Javi moves into the shop. Even though you don’t know enough Spanish to understand what’s going on, you can hear his tone become more and more agitated. Eventually you hear him yell a loud “No!” and the sound of the phone hitting the floor, clearly breaking on impact. You put down the cloth you're holding and slowly go into the shop, Javi is standing in the middle, his phone in two pieces on the floor. 

“Javi?” you ask apprehensively, and he sighs deeply, his shoulders rising up almost to his ears before slumping down, his whole body deflating as he turns to look at you. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, running both his hands through his hair, pushing through it and grabbing hold of the back of his head, his eyebrows pulling together in anguish, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled like that.” 

“It’s fine, Javi, I just want to make sure you’re ok, it seems like it was bad news,” you take a few steps closer to him, gently putting your hands on his waist. He sighs again, dropping his arms down to his sides as you slowly run your hands up and down his torso, the yellow shirt bunching under your fingers. Javi groans and drops his forehead onto your shoulder, cursing in Spanish, that much you understand. 

“It’s my stupid cousin, he’s mad I stayed over the weekend, he wants me back in Mallorca as soon as possible, he’s sending someone to ‘fetch me’. Like I’m a child late home from school,” Javi growls and pushes himself up again, looking down at you. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking anguished, “You don’t need to hear about my horrible cousin and my family problems.” 

“It’s fine, Javi, everyone has family problems sometimes,” you say, still gently stroking his sides, “I can barely stand my dad, we always fight, I wish I had a better relationship with him, but it is what it is."

“I’m sorry for that too,” Javi says, lifting his arms up again and putting them around your neck, one hand gently cupping your face so that he can caress your cheek, his soft hand warm against your skin, “My father passed away a few years ago and my cousin and I took over the family business. I hate it, my cousin loves it, and he bosses me around every chance he gets,” Javi sighs again. 

“He’ll really send someone to come get you?” you ask, “What happens if you say no?” 

Javi just shakes his head, “It’s not as easy as that, unfortunately, the business is…complicated,” he says, his thumb still smoothing over your cheek, he’s tracing the lines of your face, lost in thought. You lean your head against his warm hand, letting him work through whatever is going through his mind until he seems to shake himself out of the reverie. 

“No,” he says, his voice firm again, and he takes your hand, “I’m not going to let that ruin our afternoon.” 

With a small smile he pulls you around and leads you back into the kitchen, “I’m not wasting any more time on that, come here, hermosa, beautiful girl,” he says, pulling you into his chest as he leans against the workbench, “I’m deciding that this is how we spend the rest of the afternoon,” he wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you tight, the other one finds its way back to your cheek as he leans in closer, his soft looking pink lips brushing against yours. 

“If that’s alright with you?” he mumbles, his voice suddenly dropping lower, winding its way around your brain and making you shiver. 

“That’s more than alright with me, Javi”, you mumble back at him, your voice low to match his, his mouth so close to yours that you can feel every breath he takes, slipping over your lips. He closes the distance between the two of you, and takes your bottom lip between his own lips, gently tugging at it. He smiles against your mouth, his hand coming up to cup the back of your head and pull you closer, his tongue teasing the tip of yours. You feel your brain shut down, your eyes closing and the haze returning, all you can think about is Javi’s warm mouth and soft lips as he slowly turns you around so that he has you pressed up against the workbench. 

You don’t end up on the floor, but when the smell of caramelized sugar and butter, the rich aroma of vanilla, pulls you away from Javi, you’re pleased to see that you’ve managed to unbutton several buttons on his shirt. He’s pulled your top up over your chest, his hand leaving warm trails across your torso and he chuckles as you playfully swat his hands away. Your cheeks are flushed and overheating as he chases your lips, trying to hold you closer still. 

“Javi, I think the canelés are done,” you say, giving in and kissing him again, smiling against his eager mouth. Javi groans as if he’s in pain, reaching out to grab onto your hips but you laugh and quickly step out of his reach. 

“Now, now, Javi, let’s not burn these delicious smelling things that we waited three days for,” you tell him, your face teasing him as he follows you over to the oven. The smell of vanilla, butter and rum hits you even stronger as you open the door and slide the tray out. Quickly unmolding them onto a cooling rack, you give Javi a happy grin. 

“They look just like the photo in the book! Do they smell as you remember them?” 

“They smell even better, and they look even better,” Javi muses, crouching down so that he can get a good look at the small golden cakes on the bench. Carefully tapping one of them with his knuckle, he smiles as it has a satisfying hard shell. 

“I guess they have to cool before we eat them?” he asks, looking back up at you. 

“Yeah, they’re way too hot now,” you reply, “but we can make some coffee.”

“Or we can make out,” he says, his hands finding their way up under your top again, pulling you close. 

“Or we can make the coffee and make out?” you suggest, leaning in to press a wet kiss to the skin just under Javi’s ear, the spot that you’ve quickly learned is a favorite of his. You’re rewarded with a shiver, a gentle hum coming from him as he leans his head back to give you better access. 

“Come on,” you laugh, taking his hand and pulling him with you as he protests, “Coffee, then kisses, then canelés.” You grab the plate with the small cakes and lead him into the shop, hitting the on button on your fancy espresso machine.  

Javi leans next to it as you go through the motions, grinding the beans and measuring out the coffee. 

“What do you want?” you ask him, “espresso, cappuccino, latte?” 

“Espresso, please,” he replies, moving to stand behind you while you make it for him, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder. 

“You’re so talented, running this bakery, making all these cakes and pie, and then you’re a barista too,” he says, his short neat beard tickling against your neck as he gives you a kiss, “I’d hire you, but I don’t think you’d like my family business.” 

“That’s ok, Javi, I like running my own business,” you smile, giving him his espresso and preparing your own, “It’s a lot of work but I get to decide everything, I don’t think I could have a boss over me again.” 

“Hmm…” Javi hums as he sips the espresso, turning so that he’s leaning against the counter again, “I won’t suggest it now, but if you ever want to open a bakery in Mallorca, near where I live, I could help you.” 

“I think my Spanish needs to improve first,” you laugh, taking your coffee and standing in front of him so that you can enjoy the view you’ve created by unbuttoning most of his shirt. 

“You could always hire me,” he smiles, “I’ll handle the customers, you handle the baking, we’d be a great team.” 

“I’d hire you here in a heartbeat, Javi,” you say, “you were great with the customers.” 

He smiles at that, leaning forward so that you can kiss him, the bittersweet taste of coffee sharp on both your lips. 

“Canelés”, you mumble as his free hand starts to roam up under your top again. 

“I’m not that interested anymore,” Javi smiles, pressed against your lips, and it makes you giggle. 

“We’ve waited for three days, and I’ve never had them,” you say, pulling yourself away from him with a tremendous effort, his lips really are very soft and his palms are so warm against your skin. 

“Ok, ok,” he chuckles, giving in to you as he leans over and picks up one of the canelés in his big hand and holds it out to you, “have a taste, tell me if it was worth the wait.” 

You take a bite, your teeth crunching through the exterior and you gasp as you feel the creamy inside. The cake is still warm, sweet vanilla and rum hitting your palate together with the flavor of caramelized sugar. 

“Oh my god…” you hum, slowly chewing as Javi smiles and puts the rest of it in his mouth and grabs a second one, holding it out to you again, “This is so good, Javi,” you say, swallowing your bite and letting him feed you a second one, “Thank you for getting me to make them.” 

“I’m glad you like them,” he smiles, “they are exceptionally good, not even the place in Paris comes even close to these, fresh out of the oven.” 

You reach behind you for a third one, pulling it apart down the middle to reveal the lacy center, your baker brain kicking in as you study how the batter has created strong gluten strands that criss-cross the inside of the cake, making it creamy rather than bready. 

“Really interesting…” you say, turning it over until Javi's mouth suddenly opens over your fingers and he takes the whole piece in one big bite. 

“Thief!” you exclaim, giving him a mock scolding look as he grins, his cheeks stuffed full of cake, his shoulders jumping as he tries to chew and laugh at the same time. When you pout back at him he grabs the fourth canelé and presents it to you with his deep brown puppy eyes wide open and pleading. 

“Please…he mumbles around his mouthful, “please, accept my apology,” he swallows down the last piece as you open your mouth so that he can feed you a bite. You hum around the flavors again, putting both your hands on Javi’s chest and taking hold of his open shirt. 

“I want apologies in kisses,” you demand, pulling him into you as he grins widely. 

“You wish is my command, princesa,” he replies, coming willingly into your arms. 

“That Spanish I understood,” you mumble, his lips brushing against yours again as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I’m glad, princesa,” he smiles, and lets you pull his mouth against yours. 

The bitter coffee mingles with the sweet vanilla on his breath, and you know he must taste the same on yours. He groans, angeling his face, moving so that he can reach more of you, his tongue gliding against yours as you run your fingers through his soft curls. 

The sharp rap of knuckles on the window startles you both, and you look over Javi’s shoulder towards the front door. It’s the damn driver.

With a sigh you pull back and look up at Javi again, “It’s your driver, I guess you’re being “fetched.” 

Javi glances behind him and groans, dropping his forehead down on your shoulder as he turns back. The driver is looking at you with a neutral expression, nothing betrays what he’s thinking about finding his employer in a heavy make out session inside a bakery. 

“I’m sorry,” Javi says, “I will have to go, or there’ll be hell to pay for me when I get back home,” he gives you a pained look, “I’m really sorry, I wish I could stay here.” 

“It’s ok, Javi, you know where to find me when you’re in town again,” you smile, “just come back soon, ok?” 

Javi nods and pulls out his phone, “Give me your number, I’ll come back as soon as I can, but I’m going to try to make canelés at home, and I know I’m going to need your help,” he smiles as you laugh. 

“I’ll make sure you set a timer this time, Javi.” 

You add your number to his cracked phone and hand it back. Javi sighs and looks over his shoulder again, “I should go, he doesn’t like waiting.” 

“Ok,” you say, giving him a small smile as he lifts his hand and strokes your cheek, ��come back soon, Javi.” 

“I promise, I will,” he nods, his curls, definitely more unruly now than when he came, bouncing on his head. 

“Oh, wait,” you giggle, “let me button you up, I got a bit carried away,” you smile and quickly do up his yellow shirt, hiding the soft looking, freckled skin again. 

Javi giggles above you as your fingers work your way up, and he grabs your hands as you reach his neck. 

“One more kiss,” he says, “for the road, as they say.” 

You nod as he leans closer, bending his head so that he lips can brush over yours, a last, slow kiss, his tongue coming out to taste yours with a few small licks. 

“Good bye,” he mumbles as he pulls away, holding on to your hand until he has to let go. 

“Safe travels, Javi,” you reply, giving him a small smile. He raises his hand in a last wave and steps out through the door. 

Part Eleven

Please don't be intimidated by this recipe! They are not as tricky as they seem and they can actually be baked in a muffin tin if you have it. I've made these several times and they're really the most delicious little cake!

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