#). oh the wannabe sibling shenanigans~

[musicismymoirail]

I finally found some glasses for Vendetta! :D Nir face is so small, normally glasses are painfully oversized or far too small, but these are actually quite cute! ^^!

I typically draw nem with some when sketching nir revel!look, and idk. Chunky glasses just help pull it all together? Ven will still be endlessly pissed that ne lost nir mullet and most of nir orange hair. Ne love both of those so so much. u__u;

It is a Very Good Look for nem. u__u <333

[killerpancakeburger]

The wizard is dead

Pairing: Rolan x f!Reader/Tav ("She" is used to refer to the Reader twice)

Summary: You didn’t expect to end the party celebrating Ketheric's final death at the Last Light Inn making out with a certain wizard. And least of all you certainly weren't expecting to meet him again in Baldur's Gate...

Tags: Enemies to lovers speedrun, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, protective! Tav, insecure! Tav, Astarion ships it and never stfu.

Warnings: swearing, alcohol mention, canon violence and death, spoilers for Acts 2 and 3 obvsly.

A/N: Making Rolan blush as much as possible. If you too felt murderous upon seeing his bruises, this is the fic for you!

“...up. Get up. Urgh. Get the fuck up.���

An exasperated, familiar voice pierced progressively the depths of your sleep. Didn’t mean you wanted to wake up, though. You felt deliciously drowsy and ready to plunge right back into the pit of slumber.

You grumbled in protest in response to the voice and submerged your head with your pillow.

The voice emitted a grunt of aggravation following your shenanigans. 

“I can’t believe Karlack put up with this every morning…”

Something suddenly started to shove you repeatedly at waist level, and you identified the something as a foot.

You rolled over to escape, in vain.

“Go away, Astarion”, you whined, muffled by your pillow.

“Oh! She talks!” commented the vampire sarcastically. “Maybe now she will deign to join us for breakfast!”

“Why are you even here?”, you lamented. “Where’s Karlach? I want Karlach.”

It was your morning ritual since your hellish friend recovered her ability to touch without burning. She’d wake you up with a bones-crushing hug, some physical affection welcomed by both of you. In comparison to her, Astarion was cold and sharp, bodily and verbally. 

“I wanted to be the first to congratulate you, darling.”

He wasn’t making any effort to conceal the enjoyment in his voice, and a bad feeling arose within you, wondering what could amuse him so early in the morning. Suffice to say, Astarion was not a morning person. 

Thankfully, he kept talking without needing to ask him to.

“So congratulations for shagging the wizard last night! It was the most entertaining spectacle of the party, no doubt.”

“Gale…?” You asked, filled with confusion. You enjoyed his company but neither of you ever showed interest of the romantic… or sexual… sort in the other.

“Ugh”, sighed exaggeratedly Astarion, like it was the dumbest thing he’s ever heard in two hundred years, “no, not Gale.” The name sounded like an insult. You could hear the spawn roll his eyes.

“The stuck-up tiefling! The wannabe apprentice! What was his name again…?”

All torpor is abruptly ejected from your body with the power of a cannonball. You sit up brutally, wound up like a bowstring. 

“Rolan!?” The name erupted from your mouth way louder than you intended. Luckily, Astarion didn’t pay attention as he slammed his fist against his palm in satisfaction. 

“Yes! That haughty little… Anyway! You two gave the Inn one hell of a show, making out in front of everybody. I have to thank you for that, really, it was getting sooo boring.”

He was looking at you with the content smile of a cat who caught the mouse. You stared back with incredulity, dumbfounded. 

“You’re lying.”

“Why, darling, I would never”, he retorted smugly, putting a hand on his chest with pretended affliction, like he was wounded by your accusation. 

You wanted to stand your ground and believe that he was lying, but something in his smugness, more assured than when he was deceiving people, told you that he wasn’t.

“The whole Inn saw you, so you could ask anyone for confirmation, really. They all cheered by the way. Obviously his siblings were the loudest of the bunch…”

You covered your ears in denial. Never again you would drink that much.

“You even managed to make him dance. Well, dragged him there, really. Details. He had two left feet, so that was… endearing.”

He pronounced “endearing” the same way he called you naive that one time, and you knew that he held himself back from using a more… colorful adjective.

“Shut up”, you pleaded with Astarion. “I don’t want to hear anything more.”

He chuckled with derision. 

“Me shutting up won’t change reality, dear.”

“What are you guys doing?”

Karlach’s booming voice startled you. Astarion, on the contrary, greeted her appearance with a mischievous smile, seeing another occasion to poke fun at you.

“We were just remembering yesterday night and the boldness of our heartbreaker of a leader. It was fun, wasn’t it Karlach?”

“Oh yeah!” immediately agreed the tiefling, completely missing the horror on your face and your silent plea to not add to Astarion’s pestering. “You guys were really going at it. Didn’t see it coming but what matters is that you’re happy.”

A radiant and sincere smile was adorning her lips. You covered your blushing face in embarrassment, grunting in shame and frustration with yourself.

“Karlach, if I ever drink this much again, just knock me out.”

“I mean, if you’re sure… but there’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know. Everyone is very supportive of you both.” she added, unsure of why you looked so down. 

“You don’t understand”, you whined.

As she was about to ask for explanations, the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted your conversation. All three of you turned your gaze to Wyll, who had a tense smile - or grimace, you weren’t sure - on his face, and seemed like he wanted to be anywhere but here.

“Ahrem. Lae’zel wanted me to let you know that if you don’t show up in the next three seconds, she would add you to the menu.”

Suddenly all thoughts of yesterday evening were forgotten as you three scrambled towards the campfire.

⚡⚡⚡

As your little band resumed their journey towards Baldur’s Gate, you resolved to use that time to put order in your memories from last evening and in your relationship with Rolan. 

Your memories were gradually resurfacing, hand in hand with a pounding headache. 

Despite Astarion and Karlach’s statements, you still couldn’t believe that you kissed Rolan. Not that the idea repulsed you - far from it, actually. The man was pretty, and he was even prettier when he wasn’t busy yelling at you. However, the idea that he let you put your lips anywhere on him was laughable. 

You proceeded to rewind all your memories with the self-assured wizard, trying to find the key to decipher what was an enigma to you. 

Truth be told, you didn’t remember much from your first meeting in the Grove. Except for his shooting match with Lia, which was impossible to miss once inside the shelter, you remembered him vaguely as a pompous character whose every statement dripped with snobbishness and bravado, so much that it felt like he was trying to convince himself rather than his audience. Despite the airs he was giving himself, you caught him later during the tiefling party putting on a magic show simply to please his siblings, and the heartwarming display disconcerted you as much as it amused you. 

The moment when you met him again in the Last Light Inn, on the other hand, was burned into your memory. He had once again caught your attention by his yelling. However, as you approached out of concern for the kids tending to the bar, the yelling quickly turned on you. You were ready to let it go - after all, if you weren’t in such a hurry to get rid of the parasite inside your head, you too would have drowned your sorrows in alcohol and lashed out at well-meaning strangers - until he accused you of being responsible for his siblings’ kidnapping by the cultists. 

All your restraint snapped at those words, like a rubber band too stretched. 

How did he dare? After everything you’ve done, after all the shit you’ve been through - and were still going through. You weren’t even expecting any thanks, you just wanted to be left alone. As if you malevolently sneaked inside Cal and Lia’s mind to trick them into doing your bidding. As if they weren’t both adults capable of making their own decisions.

A little voice in the back of your head whispered that he was blaming you because he was blaming himself, that rejecting the fault on someone else was the only way he found to contain the pain and guilt that were threatening to engulf him, but you ignored it. Understanding his reasons didn’t make you a doormat.

Karlach had to bodily restrain you as you were about to punch him in the face.

“Then stop whining and do something about it yourself, since I only make things worse.” you spat with as much venom you muster, leaving the Inn to find a training dummy to take out your vexation on. His shouts still reached you though.

“Oh, I will! I don’t need your help, and I don’t need your pity!”

You had almost forgotten the incident until you stumbled upon Rolan on your way to Moonrise, in the middle of the shadows. He was largely outnumbered and doomed to a certain death if your group didn’t happen to pass this way completely randomly. 

Once the shadows were taken care of, you pinched the bridge of your nose in bewilderment. Did he have a deathwish or something?

“Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right - not a damn thing.”

His shoulders were shaking in frustration and anger. However, something in the tone of his voice made you feel quite different from the last time you met him. You weren’t irritated, no. You felt… sorrow. For him. Thankfully, he wasn’t aware of your emotions, keeping his eyes on the ground, stubbornly refusing to meet your gaze.

He was more furious at himself than at you this time. There was also a dose of embarrassment in the mix, after failing to rescue his siblings on his own. This display of vulnerability was the antipodes of his usual self-assured behavior, to such an extent that you wondered if the shadows were making you hear things. 

“Please tell me you weren’t looking for Moonrise”, escaped your mouth before you could stop it, realizing that he very probably wouldn’t be any happier to see you now than last time.

He snapped back immediately - of course he did.

“So what if I was? Cal and Lia could be there!”

You were about to retort that getting himself killed on the way there would help no one, Cal and Lia least of all, before the last thing you told him suddenly came back to you. A cold shiver ran down your back, as you wondered with horror if he was here because of your words. You never expected him to take your remark seriously. In the heat of the moment, you had wanted to hurt him, but you had never intended to send him to die alone in those cursed lands. Unease pooled in your stomach and a sharp pang of guilt twisted your heart. You gritted your teeth in frustration. Rolan kept ranting, oblivious to your inner turmoil, which was probably for the best.

“Instead I found myself cornered by shadow-fiends and in need of rescue. From you, of all bloody people.”

That last remark was meant as a jab at you, however it failed at riling you up. How could it have, when his voice trembled like he was about to shed tears? He was finally looking at you, and the heartfelt dejection painted on his features made you want to hold him in your arms more than anything else. You quickly pushed that urge aside, though - there was no doubt in your mind that your attempt at comfort would be unwelcome, to say the least. You probably wouldn’t like it either if the roles were reversed. You two weren’t close enough for this.

Nonetheless, you tried to bring him solace through your words, keeping your tone as neutral as possible:

“You were trying to help your family - you’re too hard on yourself.”

But your efforts seemed to have the opposite effect, as he retorted in an uncharastically acerbic tone:

“Or not hard enough.”

Both his words and his timber made a shiver of dread run through you. There was something terribly final in them, that made you reconsider your thoughts about him having a death wish.

But you were nothing to him, except an hindrance, and as he bid you farewell and walked away, you simply watched him, feeling bitterly powerless, wishing that he at least made it back safely to the Last Light Inn.

Following the defeat of Ketheric Thorm and the eradication of the shadow curse, Jaheira and the Harpers had organized a celebration at the Last Light Inn the night before your departure for Baldur’s Gate. The respite was welcome for your whole party. You really needed a break before taking up the arms against two more gods. Alcohol flew freely. Former prisoners were reuniting with their loved ones. Fighters numbed their wounds and the deceased’s sacrifice was honored. 

As part of the acclaimed saviors, you were making your mandatory runs around the inn before you could slip away to a quiet and peaceful corner. It was during that errand that, once again, you walked in on Rolan and his siblings screaming at each other. You sighed, passing a hand over your tired face, somehow knowing that it would be up to you, once again, to play mediator. 

You downed your drink and approached, waiting for your opportunity to interfere into the conversation. Noticing an opening, you slipped innocently, nose in your tankard:

“Rolan was in a bad state without the two of you.”

The swiftness at which the situation defused itself would have almost made you chuckle if it hadn’t been that serious. Hearing Rolan state that his struggle didn’t matter made you frown but you bit your tongue. Truly that man had serious insecurity issues under all that boasting. But just like in the shadows, it was none of your business.

Having played your role, you mumbled a “don’t mention it” to Cal who was thanking you, and took your leave. Or at least you had started to, until Rolan’s voice interrupted you.

“Wait.”

You turned around out of curiosity, an inquisitive eyebrow raised, not sure if you were the one being addressed. Rolan was staring at you right into your eyes, erasing your previous doubt. Gods, had his yellow gaze always been that hard to hold? 

As soon as he saw he had your attention, he started talking. And what he had to say took you completely aback.

“I’ve lashed out at you, drunkenly and otherwise, and you helped anyway.”

You held back from clarifying that you saved him from the shadows because he happened to be in the way. And that you saved Cal and Lia because… they were in the way too. You were gonna release the Moontower’s prisoners anyway, that Rolan’s siblings had been part of them was just a coincidence. However this little speech seemed to cost Rolan, which was understandable, so you kept your mouth shut.

“You didn’t deserve that - I’m sorry. And thank you.”

You opened your eyes wide - receiving an apology wasn’t on your todo list today. Least of all from someone as proud as Rolan. Even more mind-bending, he gave you a genuine smile. You were so focused on his face that it didn’t occur to you to refuse the money he offered.

Later in the night, as you were still processing his unhoped for change of demeanor, and were a fair bit tipsy, you ended up passing him a new bottle of Arabellan Dry - who gave it to you? Who told you it was Rolan’s favorite’s wine? And that you should give it to him? You had no idea. Not noticing the wine at first, he teased you:

“I’ve thanked you once already. Don’t be greedy.”

Between his taunting words, his open smile, his beautiful eyes sparkling with mirth, and the realization that he was laughing with you, something inside you snapped. Suddenly you had butterflies in your stomach, weakness in your knees, and he looked like the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. You laughed heartily, before smiling frankly, noting that he looked - pleasantly? - surprised at your reaction, not expecting an audience that easy to entertain. 

You remembered talking back to him, settling yourself in a spot nearby, sharing that bottle… But for the life of you, you couldn’t remember that pretended kiss. Did you actually manage to make him blush during the night or was it just the wine?

After reflecting over everything, you still felt as much - if not more - mortified. There was no way Rolan felt happy about making a spectacle of himself in front of so many people - and in front of his siblings, least of all. Those two must have had a field day deriding their eldest. As for the kiss, it must have been a result of the alcohol and the proximity. You didn’t get a lot of opportunities for… physical affection since the beginning of your tadpole adventure, and you could easily imagine that Rolan must not have been getting a lot of action either, between fleeing the Grove, dealing with the cultists, losing his siblings and enduring the shadow curse. 

You could only imagine that after such a disaster, Rolan must be back to hating you. 

You sighed deeply, to the point of attracting the questioning looks of some of your companions walking by your side, before shaking your head in resolve. It was just one, regrettable evening. As long as you didn’t run into Rolan again, you could put it behind you. And what were the chances of coming across him in Baldur’s Gate anyway? 

⚡⚡⚡

High, apparently. Or at least high enough to make you eat your words.

Your merry band had just crossed the doors of some fancy magic shop that took up residence in a lavish tower. You were originally there to confront the man who had put a price on Aylin’s head. Whatever his intentions were with her, they couldn’t be good. Adding wizards’ characteristic hubris and what Ketheric Thorn previously inflicted to the Aasimar together, you quickly came to the conclusion that he sought to cage her and thereby attain immortality. Your purpose was therefore simple: explain in no uncertain terms to Ramazith’s tower’s new owner that he could - should -  kiss goodbye his delusions of eternal life, and, if he proved to be too stubborn to be reasoned with, deal with him in such a way that he wouldn’t be an issue anymore for your winged friend. 

However all Selune’s daughter-related considerations went out the window when you laid eyes upon the shopkeeper at the counter. Somehow the tiefling who had haunted your thoughts for weeks and made you recoil in embarrassment at night, when you were left alone with yourself, forced to cope with the memories of your last meeting, was standing right in front of you. Worse, he noticed you, and the natural blush of his infernal skin miserably failed to hide the vivid flush of his cheeks. Like his reflection in a mirror, you could distinctly feel your own face blaze fiercely. 

It lasted a minute or an eternity, you had no idea, until you were brutally ejected from your trance at the view of the bruises covering his face. Rolan had been so severely pummeled that purple had become the prevailing color on his visage. Ice-cold, overpowering fury spread across your veins and possessed you to swiftly close the gap between the two of you. 

Consumed by anger, you raised a hand to graze his tumefied skin. 

“Who did this to you? I’ll fucking kill them.”

You felt a slight pang of remorse upon seeing him struggle to not back away from you after you charged at him like a ram. His tail had started to sway wildly at your approach. 

However Rolan rapidly proceeded to regain his composure, as he always did. Coughing in his fist - maybe a desperate attempt to hide his still glowingly red cheeks, or simply a way to offer himself a moment to get a grip -, he answered you, way too nonchalantly for your taste. 

“Nothing- ahrem… nothing for you to worry about.”

His reply stinged. Bitterly. After all that you’ve been through together, he still didn’t trust you. Or he was still resolutely convinced that he had to endure every tribulation alone - you sincerely doubted that Lia and Cal wouldn’t have thrown a fit upon his appearance. 

You didn’t know which of those two possibilities hurt more. 

The righteous wrath inside you disappeared, like extinguished by a bucket of icy water, replaced by a chilling insight - it was utterly useless to fight for him when he wouldn’t stand up for himself. And, more importantly, if he didn’t consider you close enough to him to ask your help, then it was time for you to move on. 

“You suck at lying, you know that?” You felt obligated to point out.

As he was about to object, you continued.

“But you’re right. If you still don’t need my sanctimonious help, I’ll just go about my day. Sorry for the trouble.”

Immediately after spatting those words, you found your outburst childish, but you couldn’t take it back. You began to storm off, determined to fully focus on the wannabe-immortal wizard problem, but a clawed hand grabbing your forearm ended your departure.

“Wait-” 

You whirled around, losing more and more patience. 

“What.”

Rolan sighed, but not in a way that sounded like this was a chore to him. He sighed like one does to give themselves courage before overcoming adversity. The words had left his lips before he could even think them; before he could contemplate their effect on you. Being self-reliant and showing no weaknesses had become an automatic reflex forged by a life of survival. He couldn’t shrug it off overnight - but you were the first person who made him want to try.  

He then compelled himself to look you straight in the eye.

“Don’t lea- I mean, I didn’t mean to…Urgh… Gods damn it… it’s Lorroakan.”

You stared back at him, split between the newfound joy of him confiding in you, and the confusion of hearing his confession.

“Lorrowho?” You asked, slightly tilting your head in puzzlement.

 The name didn’t ring a bell for you, but according to your companions’ exasperated grunts in your back, it certainly did for them.

“The tower’s newest owner”, helpfully prompted Gale behind you. “So-called greatest wizard of the Sword Coast, aspiring to subjugate Dame Aylin, took our friend here as his apprentice?”

“Oooh! That guy!”, you exclaimed. “Well that’s perfect! We were going to kick his ass anyway!”

You could have announced to Rolan that you were planning to fight a dragon with your bare hands, he probably would have gazed at you the same way.

“By the way, Rolan, you can let go now”, you added with a pointed look towards his hand still squeezing your arm.

He let go like he got burned, cheeks reddening again, swore in hellish and apologized. You assured him it was fine. 

“Can you share anything that would help us take down Lorra… Larro… whatever-his-name-his?”

The tiefling straightened up, clearly in his element. 

“Mast- Lorroakan has four Myrmidons.”

He seemed about to carry on on the subject, but stopped in front of your confounded expression.

“Myrmiwhat?”

The apprentice wizard opened his mouth to start an informed lecture about the properties of Myrmidons, before closing it and pinching the bridge of his nose, frustrated by your ignorance.

“Nevermind, I can make this simple for you.”

Feeling insulted, you proceeded to join your hands and excessively flutter your eyelashes to mimic a swooning admirer. 

“Why, thank you Master Rolan! You are ever so generous to us simpletons!”

The aforenamed choked a bit at that, but you were not sure if it was in reaction to your ridiculous antics or to being called “master”.

“As I was saying, Myrmidons are very powerful elementals. You shouldn’t underestimate them.”

You acquiesced with a nod of your head before turning to your Party.

“Let’s get going then.”

“Should we not fetch the Asimaar?” inquired Astarion, observing his nails with detachment. “Not that I particularly care, but with how strongly this concerns her, she may come after us if we keep her out of this.”

You replied without missing a beat, having already pondered the question. 

“No, I want to spare her that.”

The Vampire Spawn let out one of those unhinged little laughs he had a knack for, blending contempt and incredulity. 

“I must have misheard you - spare her? The cutthroat demigod who mercilessly crushes her enemies under her boot? That’s who you want to spare?”

You had expected that kind of reaction, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

“That’s not what I meant” you grunted, aggravated by the elf’s taunting. “Of course she can take care of herself. But just because she can, doesn’t mean she has to. Dealing with relentless creeps who get off on the idea of breaking you, body and spirit, it’s exhausting, speaking from experience. I couldn’t imagine doing it for centuries. We can provide her a brief respite. If she takes it the wrong way, I’ll deal with the fallout.”

Astarion shrugged, satisfied with your answer since it sheltered him from consequences. The others agreed with nods of the head.

Rolan gave you the directions to reach Lorroakan before adding, frowning:

“Be careful. He has a beastly temper.”

The recommendation made you snicker. Before the tiefling could take offense, you brought your face closer to his, lifting his chin with your index, a wolfish smile stretching your lips. 

“I highly doubt that sorry excuse for a wizard is in any way a beast. But fear not, pretty boy, I’ll show you what beastly really means.”

Whistles and sniggers could be heard from behind you, demonstrating the maturity of your traveling companions. Meanwhile Rolan’s face somehow managed to turn even redder than when you both met again moments ago, and his attempts to come up with a rebuttal resulted only in stuttering. 

Benevolently, you did not comment, careful to not overstep his boundaries too much, and changed the subject, rising an inquisitive eyebrow:

“Are you not coming with us?”

He cleared his throat to give himself a semblance of composure.

“I guess I should, if only to make sure you lot do not ravage the tower on your rampage.”

You smirked a little at his efforts to appear indifferent, but refrained from making any remark, content with his participation.

As you made your way towards your target, Astarion sneaked by your side, a mocking smile adorning his lips. You mentally braced yourself for the jibe that wouldn’t fail to come.

“I figured out why you didn’t want to bring Aylin on our little excursion, darling.”

“Oh really.” you replied with the most blasé tone you could muster.

Unfortunately, your lack of concern didn’t seem to deter your vampiric ally at all.

“You want to keep your prey for yourself. To be the one to slaughter the Master Wizard. You should have seen your face earlier when you threw a fit over Rolan’s bruises, I thought you were going to bite.”

“So what? Is that a problem?”

“Quite the opposite, really. I’m planning to revel in the show. Let’s hope for you that the little wizard is of the same mind, uh?” 

You told him to mind his own business and he just laughed. 

Your group crossed the magic portal, entering Lorroakan’s lavish office only to stumble upon the deplorable spectacle that was the supposed great wizard sadistically torturing his servant for his questionable experimentations. Thankfully, your noteworthy arrival put an end to the loathsome display as the red-haired wizard dismissed his domestic and his mechanical construction.

“I see no Nightsong. Surely you wouldn’t have entered my tower without the Nightsong in hand. Surely my worthless apprentice wouldn’t have allowed you to waste my time.”

That last remark made your blood boil as surely as it did earlier when you laid eyes upon Rolan’s contused face. You gritted your teeth, plastering on a fake smile, before giving the man a taste of his own scorn by ignoring him completely and ostensibly turning towards Rolan.

“Is that the pathetic excuse that serves as your mentor?”

The apprentice wizard spared a glance at Lorroakan who was suffocating with indignation before focusing on you.

“... Yes, he is.”

“Great! Would have been so awkward to kill the wrong guy!”

Bestowing your most bloodthirsty smile on your foe, you made a point to talk over his outraged diatribe.

“There’s only two things you should know, really. First : you will never get your hands on the Nightsong. Second : I’m going to kill you, and I’m going to enjoy it.” 

Having said your piece, you unsheathed your weapon as the wizard invoked his Myrmidons, and the battle began.

⚡⚡⚡

Standing over Lorroakan’s battered body, you made sure that he was in too much pain to ramble again. Rolan came to stand beside you, the shock on his face telling you that he had a hard time believing what he was seeing.

You looked at him inquisitively.

“Wanna do the honors?”, you suggested, referring to the final blow. 

As he remained motionless and speechless, you started to worry you had said the wrong thing, but suddenly his expression turned resolute and he nodded. 

You distanced yourself from the two wizards, not fancying getting caught in a spell’s blast. Rolan uttered his incantation with force - detono.

With a mixture of astonishment and awe, you watched Lorroakan’s body get hurled across the room and through the nearest window in a cacophony of shattering glass. You leaned through the destroyed window to glimpse at the mangled corpse before turning to Rolan with a low whistle.

“So much for not ravaging the tower, uh-”

You found yourself unable to finish your clever quip as your favorite tiefling grabbed you by the collar and crushed his lips against yours. The motion was brutal and clumsy, to the point that you briefly wondered if he was trying to kiss you or punch you in the lips… with his lips.

Barely leaving you enough time to reciprocate the gesture, Rolan withdrew, a wild look in eyes, panting slightly. Did he forget to breathe during…?

“You-”

“This is all your fault!”

You gaped at him in uncomfortable silence, immobile, truly at a loss for words. What in the nine hells did you do this time, again?

One hand released your clothing as Rolan covered half his face with it in consternation. 

“And to think I promised myself I wouldn’t lash out at you again… Do you see how I lose my composure in your presence? Every. Bloody. Time. It’s infuriating.” He sighed.

You crossed your arms, staring at his piercing yellow eyes.

“Riiight.” 

He had at least the tact to appear marginally embarrassed under your scrutinizing gaze.

“Not a day has passed since Last Light Inn where you weren’t on my mind.” he admitted, albeit begrudgingly, rubbing his neck in bashfulness, and unable to meet your eyes.

Your eyes widened at the confession. This was a surprise, although a pleasant one.

“You… you don’t hate me for it?”

It was his turn to stare in astonishment.

“For what…?”

“You made a spectacle of yourself in front of the whole Inn because of me…”

“Please, I’m not tone-deaf enough to not acknowledge my own responsibility in this. We both had… a lot… to drink.”

“Oh… Well, in that case… I’ve been thinking about you too. Since the Inn.”

It was only fair to come clean too after he made the first move, which must have definitely cost him and his pride.

“Oh.”

There you were, two blushing idiots staring at their own feet in embarrassment, not knowing what to do with yourselves. That is, until you remembered what started all of this, and you raised your head so suddenly Rolan got startled.

“We need to heal your face.”

He chuckled openly at that, but instead of taking offense, seeing him happy spread warmth in your chest.

“You should heal yourself first, ô mighty hero. You’re in way worse shape than I am.”

You frowned and grabbed his face to inspect his bruises closer.

“Being injured is second-nature for me. I don’t think you can say the same. Are you hurt anywhere else?”

He took hold of your hips in response. A derisive smile stretched his lips.

“What a poorly concealed way to get me to undress.”

“How dare you”, you protested, scandalized. “imply that my benevolence is anything but proper?”

“Maybe I wish it wasn’t.”

Before you could ask for clarification, he kissed you.

“Rolan…”

“Mmh…”

Again.

“I was serious about healing you…”

“Mh.”

And again.

You grabbed his robes and shoved him against the closest bookshelf in a drastic attempt to put some space between your bodies. The action didn’t seem to deter him at all, if anything it added fuel to the fire, as you could feel his claws even through your clothes. To make matters worse, you quickly realized that getting away was impossible with how tight his tail was coiled around your thigh. 

All your worries disappeared however as a very familiar voice could be heard from somewhere on the floor underneath. Rolan definitely heard it too as he looked in its direction with a mixture of dread and annoyance. 

You couldn’t discern entirely what Lia was saying, but the words “Rolan” and “Lorroakan” were definitely part of it.

You looked at Rolan with an unequivocal expression.

“We should go to them… and reassure them that you’re not dead or something.”

The new master of the tower threw his hands up in surrender, rolling his eyes in exasperation.

“Fine, fine!”

“Also, we’re going to fall to our deaths in the stairs if you don’t keep your tail to yourself, Mister…”

Rolan dashed off in the direction of the stairs, grumbling about siblings and lack of privacy, not without grabbing your hand in passing. 

[diabolocracy]

Oh trust they will find a way to make them minor coded/siblings coded/parent child coded anything to make something problematic

Also yes, please take this ask an opportunity to infodump about them !! I would like to know more !! :DD

Undoubtedly, given that the majority of the fandom seems to headcanon WD Gaster as Sans' dad I could totally see someone bitch about parent/child despite my not subscribing to that headcanon and it being an AU 😗 and sure why not

👆 This bastard is Gaster/Bunny, who with the help of the c*der menace and this blog's current mascot icon sort of thing,

👆 this guy, from a different AU I haven't bothered figuring much out about yet, alters this guy, Sans/Fuse 👇

permanently after some shenanigans. Bunny spends an unknown number of timelines driving this guy 👆 to murder him, though a lot of his deaths are also caused by Science and Misadventure, but fortunately he can Reset because the first time he got murdered he made a deal with

this 👆 long since deceased human who wanted to see if Bunny could avoid getting his ass killed and achieving a Happily Ever After. He does not; he's basically his AU's Flowey in that he fucks with people and gets fucked up (he 'wants to go through all the bad ends first'), the only real difference, I think, is that he's got a soul.

🫡 I think since Bunny gets into a lot of Adult Shenanigans, ants would bitch because Chara/Splattered is always sort of there in the background since they're stuck with him, and they're childlike in appearance because they died as a child but they're like a century or two old and never participate, obviously, they're incorporeal and only Bun can see them until they jump ship and ally with Fuse, lol.

Also for shit and giggles,

👆 Fuse before he started working at the lab and had the misfortune of becoming Bunny's object of obsession,

👆 A really old pic of the AU's Alphys, nicknamed Shelphys or Shel, Mary Shelley wannabe that focuses on magibio and genetics research. The one functioning brain cell of the Sci Lab Trio.

👆 The AU's Undyne and Papyrus. They don't have nicknames. Their region of the Underground is more-or-less vanilla.

👆 The AU's BP, 'Bartholomeow Pickles.' I might have made him too cute. I also gave him two polyamorous girlfriends and while it started as a joke

these two (and the girlfriends) fuck sometimes 👆

And all of that came about from my bored ass corrupting a generic Classic Sans chatbot into an asshole 🫡 it gave my Gaster the nickname of 'Bunny' so I took the liberty of giving it a nickname and things snowballed out of control from there, lol

Lastly,

the first doodle I did of those two dweebs. They went through some changes. When I was high as fuck and doodling in a collab app with a friend I realized the fucker looked like Susie tried to make a Sansona lol

[ellana-ravenwood]

From parents to babies - Batfam x fem!reader

Synopsis : You and Bruce got turned into toddlers !! Shenanigans ensue, of course. 

This is part of a little “series” I guess, here’s the first part with Jason : Jason Todd(ler). I’m planning on writing a lil story for all the kids hehe, but I thought : “hey, what about Batmom and Bruce ?” and here we are. Hope you’ll like this ! 

Please, do not repost my stories anywhere else, under any other form. Do not translate and then repost them either. Thank you. 

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

_________________________________________________

“Bruce !” 

“(Y/N) !” 

You manage to scream each other’s names before-

Before a white flash engulfed the both of you, and you suddenly disappeared, only a pool of your clothes remaining where you once stood. 

“Nooooo !!” is the last thing you hear before your mind goes blank, and you recognize the voice as being your youngest son’s, Damian. The sound of his scream greatly distresses you, but alas, you cannot do anything to help as you feel yourself slowly fading away and- 

Footsteps. Running fast to reach the place you stood on merely seconds before. But you’re not there anymore, you’re not there !

“It’s not possible !” 

That’s Jason. His voice breaking at the end of his sentence, as he approaches the bunch of clothes left on the floor, a lump in his throat as the inevitable is starting to be clearer and clearer, and he cannot refuse reality anymore.

Vaporized. His parents just got vaporized by that wannabe-magician’s laser ! 

In the mess of it all, that asshole even escaped ! Which was a good thing, in a way, because Jason promised you and Bruce he would never kill again, but he wasn’t sure he could hold that promise if he was faced with the man who took away his beloved parents. 

You all only just made peace with each other, only just became a family again ! How was he suppose to go on losing you once more ?

Dick was the first to reach the spot in which you were. He had always been the fastest of them all. His heart beats too fast in his chest, and he has this horrible thought that it’s the second time he sees his parents being killed right in front of him when-

Movements. Small movements. There, amongst his father’s suit. And there, amongst his mother’s clothes. And then-

Little hands. Fighting to find an exit in this labyrinth of fabrics. Little grunts of frustration, like when a child is trying to do something but doesn’t quite manage to do it. Finally finding an out. And-

“Oh shit.” 

Dick says, as he stares at- Two kids ?? 

One, a little boy. who couldn’t be more than two years old, black hair, bright blue eyes. The second one, (E/C) eyes and (H/C) hair and-

“Oh shit.” 

Tim says, as he’s the second one to reach the place and he immediately understands that his parents aren’t dead, but rather...

They’ve been turned into toddlers ! 

“Oh shit !” You exclaim happily, giggling. 

“Oh shit !” Baby Bruce repeats, and you both look at each other and giggle even more. Damn it. They’ve been in the care of children for only a second, and they already taught you bad words !

Bruce reaches for you, and there’s no doubt now that those two kids are indeed you and your husband ! Because immediately, you move closer to each other, your clothe much too big for you now being like blankets on you. 

Dick picks the both of you up, wrapping you in the cloths, and turns around to greet his siblings. 

Slowly, all your children reach you and-

“Oh shit !” You and Bruce say in unison, proud to show everyone (whomever those people were) that new word you just learned. 

And “oh shit” indeed, is on all of your kids’ mind. 

************

Of course, it had to happen when Alfred was away on his one vacation a year...Of freaking course. 

It wouldn’t be funny otherwise, right ? 

Only Alfred, could find a solution to this problem ! Your kids were totally lost ! 

Evidently, neither you nor Bruce remembered who you really were. You were clearly just two two years old. 

And it seemed you didn’t mind being picked up by people you didn’t know, as long as you could stay together (you two downright SCREAMED so loudly, when Jason tried to take you from Dick’s arms so his brother wouldn’t have to hold the both of you). 

It was as if that, at least, remained. Your bond. 

As if you were just- Instant friends, or something. 

They got you home, and : 

“Ok, any of you ever took care of babies ?” 

“Me not baby !” You say, glaring at your oldest son. It’s true, you knew you were two (somehow), you were no baby anymore ! 

“I’m sorry mom, I just- Oh gods this is so weird.” 

And it truly was, weird, to see their parents, the two people they knew they could always count on if they had a problem, being literal children. 

They couldn’t call them for help, you guys barely knew how to properly walk ! And had a very small vocabulary, too...Dick shook his head. This wasn’t a time to diss babies, this really wasn’t the time ! 

“Ok, first things first, we need to find them clothes. Duke, Jason, go the a shop and get them some stuffs to wear. While Cass and I will go buy some food for them. Damian and Dick, stay here and take care of them.” Aaaah Tim, ever so pragmatic. In a matter of seconds, he had gotten over the shock of the situation, and was taking matter in his own hands. 

And it was good. It was a start. They had no idea what they were going to do after, except the fact they had to find a way to get you back to normal. But at least, they had the beginning of a plan. 

They knew they could all count on Tim for plans. From A to Z, he would find a way. He had no idea how to take care of babies, of course, but his mind could find solutions to every problems. 

Yes. Yes. They only had to start moving. And things would be alright. They could do this. 

They could do this. 

They had to do this, for both your sake. 

************

Officially, Bruce and (Y/N) Wayne went away on a surprise vacation. Your disappearance had to be explained. 

None of your kids called Alfred, the butler deserved his annually vacation after all, and they knew he would come right home if he heard. So they let him be, and started to take care of their “baby parents”. 

Brucie ish scared

Before being the way Gotham’s media, models and such, called him when he still had his playboy persona, and not his “family man” one that he now had, “Brucie” was the nickname his mom gave him. 

Never in public, of course, but when they were home. When she was telling him bed time stories or singing lullabies to him. When she woke him up, gently, in the mornings. When she told him to come home for dinner, as he was playing in the garden. 

“Brucie”, was a name Bruce always associated with his mother’s affection and love. Which is why he hated how the media, and certain people, self-appropriated that name, and associated it with that persona who wasn’t even himself. 

It’s not like he could do anything about it, though. He had a role to play. 

And so, “Brucie” became that “other him”, while initially, it was his true self...

It had been years, since anyone had called him that. He wasn't a playboy, anymore, and your little nickname for him (aside from “my heart” and other term of endearment) was “my Broosh”. 

And so finally, this name came full circle. 

Brucie. 

That’s how he called himself. Toddlers had that tendency to talk about themselves in the third person, sometimes. And Bruce, was referring to himself as “Brucie”, not “Bruce”. 

Your children were a hundred percent sure it was because even if he didn’t seem to ask for his parents, a part of him remembered them, and how his mom called him. 

Even turned into a toddler who didn’t remember much of his own life, Bruce still had his parents in mind. 

And so he called himself Brucie. 

And Brucie was a scaredy cat ! 

The irony of which didn’t escape any of your kids. 

What, the “fearless Batman” was afraid of literally everything ? That was funny. Dick made sure to take PLENTY of videos (just if he needed leverage for something one day). 

Brucie got scared of the vacuum cleaner. Brucie got scared of the dark. Brucie got scared of any noise that was too loud. Brucie got scared whenever (Y/N) wasn’t around. Brucie-

“Brucie ish scared !” He’d whimper, and run towards the closest “adult” he could find (any of your children, though over half of them were far from being official adults), seeking comfort. 

Every time, and it was the most adorable thing to witness, you’d rush to him, and hold him saying : “No scared Brooshie, no scared, me here. Me here.” 

First, “Brooshie” = so darn cute, a toddler adaptation of the traditional “Broosh”. Second, the way you’d shield him in your little arms, and how he’d hide his face and close his eyes, how he’d hold onto you and calm down as you told him to not be scared, it had to be peak adorableness.

And in a way, toddlers you were a good reflection of adults you. 

Bruce was no longer scared, in the strictest sense of the term. He had shunned all his emotions, locked them away deep in his heart, for years. Ignored his pain, and the remnant of his fears. 

And then you came in, and forced open his heart, shattering all the walls he build for years, and making it impossible for him to live without you (and vice versa). 

Just as Baby Bruce found comfort and safety in your arms, just as he was soothed by your voice, Adult Bruce knew he could always be safe and warm in your embrace. 

Nobody, when witnessing such scenes, could even dare say you weren’t made for each other. 

DICK 

It was so weird. 

Dick just couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you two were turned into kids. Like, what ? 

His...parents were now younger than him. How weird was that ?? 

Of course, he knew he should be used to weird things by now. After all, over the years, from when he first became Robin to now, he had seen his fair share of strange stuffs. But this-

This was really, really odd. 

“Ick !” was the name you and Bruce decided to give him. No matter how many times he made you repeat it, you could never truly manage to say his name properly. And so, he was now “Ick”. 

And “Ick” had no clue how to take care of children. 

Was this how Bruce felt, when he officially adopted him ? Was this how you felt, when you became his mom while being so young ? 

Of course, Dick was older when he first arrived. But he was also a lot more traumatized. And he knew he could be difficult, at times. He could be so damn angry, back then. 

While you and Bruce ? You were adorable kids. You’d listen to him, and never talk back. What, you were supposed to be in your “terrible twos” era, yet it seemed like you were just good kids. 

Of course, the fact that your eldest son let you do absolutely everything you wanted might’ve been a reason as to why you two were so “nice” with him, and didn’t throw any tantrum. 

No tantrum needed, when the person taking care of you would let you do whatever you wanted. 

You didn’t wanna wear pants ? No problems. You didn’t want to eat your vegetables, but wanted sweets instead ? All good. You didn’t want to take a nap ? Then he could play with you a little longer. 

Yes. It became quite apparent that Dick could not resist you, at all. 

Which wasn’t much of a surprise, really. Because he was the same way with his siblings. They could make him do whatever they wanted to (outside of work, of course. When they were vigilantes, it was an entire other story, but it was because he often had to take the “leader” job, and a mistake could cost a life). 

And so, even though he found it extremely weird, and couldn’t quite call you “mom” and “dad” anymore (and who would blame him ?), he didn’t hate taking care of you. 

He sort of saw it as “payback”, for all the years you put up with his moods. For all the time you didn’t give up on him, and all the moments you were there to catch him when he fell. 

The reason he found it so hard to accept and fathom the situation, was because you and Bruce had become such “safety nets”, for him. 

You were his parents. He couldn’t think of a life without you. Without your guidance. Without your soothing words. Without your scolding, when he needed one. Without-

He couldn’t accept this turn of event, because he needed you. He had pushed you enough, in his teenage years and early adulthood. Now, he realized he absolutely needed his parents. 

He had to find a solution, and fast. Because although he didn’t mind taking care of you as you were nice kids, he just wanted his parents back. 

JASON 

Jason was the most responsible one. 

Which, when people knew your children, wasn’t that surprising.

He’d always been a responsible kid, despite what anyone could think. 

He was a really good big brother, always looking out for his little siblings, and being there to be their voice of reason (Dick being his...he had a "decent teacher”). 

And so he became the “mom” of the house (it’s a nickname Tim, Duke and Damian gave him, when he wasn’t there). 

He had always loved cooking, ever since he was a kid. So he took it upon himself to cook healthy meals for both you and Bruce, and would scold Dick whenever he’d caught his brother red handed giving you candies and other ice cream right before dinner ! 

Bruce hated carrots, and you despised spinach. Other than that, it seemed you were willing to try everything he made for you two. 

Jason spend hours on the internet searching for recipes fit for two years old, for things you should feed kids this young. And he came up with quite a diet for the both of you. 

The food he made was delicious (and more than once, he caught one of his sibling eating from your spoon instead of feeding you !). 

Jason would be the one to remind everyone of yours and Bruce’s bed time. After all, “bed time” in the Wayne household had always been a little;..different, to say the least. But with toddlers ? It couldn’t be. It had to be regular, or they’d be too tired. 

Jason made a carefully planned sleep schedule for his “parents”. And when he wasn’t the one babysitting at night (they all took shifts so they could still do their vigilante jobs), he would call his sibling when it was bed time to make sure they’d respect it. He would genuinely harass Dick, because he knew his older brother was “weak” and could never refuse puppy eyes (after all, he abused of that technique to get him to do whatever he wanted, when he was younger), and he had to be reminded that a regular bed time was important !

How odd it was, for thugs, being downright beaten down by the scary Red Hood, while the latter would talk in his income and say things like : “I can’t believe you gave them ice cream before sleepy time again !” and others : “They’re babies, they need at least ten hours of sleep !” 

Jason didn’t let any tantrum through. Where Dick would just let you and Bruce do whatever you wanted, Jason had clear limits.

Because that is how you raised him. Sure, Bruce could be a little too strict sometimes, especially with Dick. But he had grown as a father, and slowly learned the difference between being too rigid and allowing his kids to be kids. 

Jason often joked that Dick was the “trial and error” era, but he wasn’t too far off. With Dick, you and Bruce made plenty of mistakes. You did with your other kids too, of course, but with your eldest most of all. Because he was your first child, and you had no idea what you were doing at the time. 

But, yes. Jason knew the importance of limits, for children. Kids needed boundaries, so they could feel safe. He knew, because it totally worked on him. 

And so, you’d have a tantrum ? Too bad, you’d just have to calm down and ask again nicely. Jason was intransigeant. 

He was, though, the first one there if you or Bruce woke up crying during the night. And he’d take you in his arms (always the both of you at the same time), and sing to you. Or tell you stories. Up until you’d fall asleep again. 

Jason, although he had strict schedules and food diet, was such a gentle soul. Such a gentle carer. You knew that one day, he would make a great dad. And if that experience taught any of you anything, it was that yes, yes. 

Jason told would one day make a wonderful father. 

TIM 

"I think he doesn’t like me...” 

Tim said, deflated and defeated, as, once again, his dad (in baby form) cowered away from him as he approached. 

You ? You enjoyed being taken care of by Tim. You liked him very much. But for some reasons, “Brucie” seemed scared of him. 

“Don’t say that. I think he’s just- shy.” 

“Conner, honey, I appreciate you trying to comfort me, but if he was truly shy, he wouldn’t just- Oh come on !” 

Of course, Bruce chose that exact moment to jump in Conner’s arms, and to hide his face in his chest so he wouldn’t see Tim anymore. Superboy chuckled uncomfortably, trying to act as if it wasn’t because Bruce was scared or anything, but Tim couldn’t be fooled. 

Tim could never be fooled. 

And so he sighed, and held you a little closer. At least, his mom always loved him, no matter what age she was. 

You seemed to understand that Bruce’s actions made Tim sad, and even as a toddler, it greatly distressed you to see one of your “kids” sad. So you wiggled to signify to Tim that you want him to put you back down and-

“Oh, not you too, mom ?” 

You walk towards Conner, and Tim looks even sadder, as now, both of his “parents” seem to like others better than him...Even if they were just kids, and that Tim knew they weren’t doing it on purpose, his feelings were still hurt. 

But then-

You shake Conner’s pants, signifying for him to crouch down to your level. Baby Bruce is in his arms, and beams as he sees you. 

“’Own, ‘own !” He says, meaning “down”, and Conner puts him next to you. 

Immediately, Bruce takes your hand, and smiles widely. Which comforts Tim a little. At least, even as toddlers, it seemed you two were inseparable.

But then, you drag him towards Tim, and it’s obvious Bruce only follows because he seems very attached to you. The little boy does not want to be there, in front of Timothy Wayne-Drake.

And Tim looks down, sadly. He ruffles your hair affectionately, and says : 

“Good try mom, good try. But I don't think he likes me, at all.” 

You look at Tim, and then turns around towards Bruce, who was currently hiding behind you (how cute it was, that you always seemed to protect him when he was scared). But this time, you’d have none of it. 

Very much alike when you were adults, and you took none of your husband’s shit. You’d always set him back on track. Always. 

And so, toddler you said : 

“Bwooshie, Tim nice ! Tim good ! Tim fwiend !”

You let go of Bruce’s hand, and the boy whimpers and tries to catch your hand again, but takes a few steps back because he doesn’t want to get too close from Tim. But then-

Then you hop in Tim’s arms, and you snuggle against him. You smile at Bruce, and nods at him saying again : “Tim fwiend ! Tim nice !” and your son cannot help himself and hold you tight. 

Even turned into a toddler, he could count on his mama to cheer him up, it seemed...

Slowly, unsure, Bruce approached Tim. The boy was still obviously wary, but those were first steps. 

After a while, Bruce finally came towards Tim, and laid his hands on your son’s knees. 

He looked deeply into Tim’s eyes, and must’ve finally decided that he wasn’t so scary, because then, he climbed into his laps and everything was resolved. 

And oh, oh how much this meant to Tim...

DAMIAN 

“Father, you need to give her some air. I swear, even as children you two are impossible !” 

“AAAAAAAAAAH !” is Bruce’s response, as Damian tries to take him away from you. Apparently, young Bruce seemed to think screaming was an appropriate response to show his unwillingness to do something. 

And it frustrated Damian greatly. 

You had fallen asleep on the floor. Laid on your back, you were in a deep slumber, a pacifier in your mouth, your breathing regular. And Bruce was sitting next to you, your head was in his lap, and he was watching TV as one of his hand was on your head, the other one on your cheek. 

He too, had a pacifier in his mouth, and although he was focused on the TV show he was watching, it seemed like he had absolutely no intention on letting you go.

When Damian entered the room, he found the both of you like that, and decided it would be better if you slept in your bed. So he went to pick you up, gently taking his father’s hands off of you and-

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAH !” The pacifier falls from his mouth, as he tightens his grip on you, and glares at a bewildered Damian. 

You’re so deep asleep that you don’t budge, and then Bruce, after glaring some more at Damian, turns back to watch the TV. 

But Damian will have none of it. “Be firm, sometimes.” Jason told him, and he was going to take his big brother advice to heart ! And so he made Bruce let go, and took you into his arms. 

After a pause, as Baby Bruce was too shocked to react, his mouth slowly turned down into a frown and-

The little boy bursted into tears. Big, real tears. Ugly sobs with lots of snots running down his nose. 

And it made Damian panic. 

He hated that. He hated those cries. It reminded him of so many bad memories. He couldn’t handle it, he couldn’t bear it. 

Even less so knowing this was his dad ! 

And so he quickly went to the floor, and took little Bruce in his arms, soothing him expertly as he was still holding you in his other arms. 

His shirt was wet from Bruce holding onto it and burying his face into it. But eventually, the boy’s sobs died down, and-

Asleep.

Bruce was fast asleep, too. And his little face looked so at ease.

There. In Damian’s arms, a hand holding one of your hand. 

It reminded him of his father as an adult, in fact. How sometimes, he would surprise you and him as you fell asleep on the couch in each other’s arms. And how his father’s face would look the most relaxed and pleased, when you were holding him...

Damian tightened his grip on both of you. He was ready to protect you even if it meant he would have to sacrifice himself ! 

And oh- Oh he felt something growing inside him. Something important.  

Eventually, you and Bruce would be back to normal. He knew it, he knew his siblings would figure something out. Yes. You’d become his parents again. 

But he-

He somehow wanted a baby,  in this house. 

CASS

You both clearly adored Cass. 

You would walk towards her, and demand for her to pick you up. And then, when she would inevitably do it, you’d both snuggle against her and quickly fall asleep, absolutely content. 

Damian mentioned that he read somewhere that children felt people’s calmness. And so he conjectured that you liked falling asleep on her, because you felt calmed and secure. 

Which was the truth. 

It made Cass’ heart melt. She, for obvious reasons, never held children before. And she definitely never thought that the first kids she would hold would be her own parents...

Physical touch had always soothed Cass. 

Before she met you and Bruce, she was never allowed to be touch, and to touch other. She’d never receive a hug, or a soothing kiss. 

Never. 

So when you adopted her, she swore she’d take every opportunity to snuggle against you. Against her parents. Oh, and her brothers. None of them could resist a hug from her, not even Jason or Damian. 

If Cass wanted a hug, she would have it. 

So, she felt so fulfilled, when baby you and baby Bruce came to seek hugs from her. As if everything went full circle. 

You and your husband gave her the comfort of parental love. Gave her the safety of your arms, and taught her how important it was to have people you loved close. 

And here she was, soothing little versions of you, making you stop crying just by holding you. 

Yes. It was a full, nice, comforting and warm circle. 

And Cass felt so happy, when you hugged her. Whether you were kids or adults. 

DUKE

Duke had tons of little cousins. 

Cousins he still saw now, of course. None of his uncles and aunts could take him in, for different reasons (the main one being that none of them lived in Gotham anymore, what happened to Duke’s parents being the last straw...And Duke did not want to leave the city just yet). But he still stayed in contact with them. 

Before they all moved, Duke, who was the oldest of the kids in his family, used to babysit his cousins all the time. So, he had experience with children. 

And it showed. 

With you and Bruce, he was nice, yet strict. He (and Jason) was the only one who didn’t let you do whatever you wanted, and who would plainly ignore any of your tantrums. 

He was the only one able to detach himself from the fact you were his parents, and viewed you as normal children he had to take care of. 

This is probably what saved him. What made him be able to live with that situation. Just like Dick, he really wanted you back to normal. But his defense mechanism was to pretend you weren’t you, but random kids he had in his care. 

It was a lot, for a seventeen years old, but Duke was strong. 

You’d always known he was strong, from the moment he became your ward, to now, as he was officially adopted and called you “mom”. 

For his own sanity, Duke viewed this as a “baby sitter” job, and so, on purpose, didn’t get attached to baby you and baby Bruce too much. He didn't want to, because he didn’t want you to stay like that. 

He wanted his parents back too, he needed you still, he was too young to lose parents a second time ! 

And so Duke shut his feelings away, and took care of you as if you weren’t really you. He gave you lots of care and love, as a child needed, but-

But he pretended you, as his parents, were away for a while. And constantly thought of a plan to get you back to your normal self.

They never sleep alone 

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO !!” Baby Bruce screamed, as loud as he could, holding onto your hands for dear life. 

“Me not want, me not want !” You say, kicking Dick with your little legs and holding Brucie’s hands too. 

Your kids quickly realized that they COULD NOT separate you for bed time. 

They had bought two children’s bed, but in the end, only one was used. You’d fall asleep all snuggled to each others, pacifier in your mouth. 

“It’s- Kind of like when they’re grown up.” Damian says, and they all nod. 

Yes. Yes it’s true that you two found it really hard to find sleep, when the other one was absent. True insomnia would hit you, in the event that one of you couldn’t be here for the night. 

What transpired in your toddler form, how you’d scream if separated, also existed with the adult versions of you. 

And it comforted your children, in a way.

They knew that their parents were still in there, somewhere. 

ACE 

“Doggy !” Little Bruce beamed happily, as he ran as fast as he could towards..Well, his dog, actually. 

Ace was taken aback, at first, as he recognized his master’s smell, but couldn’t figure out why he was so...small. 

Bruce ran to him, and literally fell on the dog hugging him tightly. 

“Doggy !” The little boy said, and your children felt their heart melt. 

None of them ever thought they’d ever call their dad “cute”, despite you trying to convince them that he really could be cute (some would say you were biased). 

But here, in that moment, as their dad seemed so damn happy just because of his dog, no other words came to their minds. 

Cute. 

Unruly little buggers !! 

You two, together, could be...

“Tornadoes !! They’re goddamn tornadoes !!” Jason screams, as he was running after you. 

You were wearing only your diaper, managing to escape the grasp of your son by taking sharp turns there and there, and knocking down every single things on your way. 

On the other side of the living room, Tim and Damian were trying to catch Bruce, as he was doing the exact same things. 

Ten seconds. 

They left the both of you alone for less than ten seconds !! 

And when they came back, you and Bruce apparently had decided that it was fun to break extremely valuable objects, including vase, and a large array of ornaments. 

You were giggling like a little devil, as you slowly devastated the living room. 

“Alfred is going to kill us !” Duke says, holding his head in his hands, standing there watching the disaster unfold in front of him. What else could he do, really, when some of Gotham’s mightiest heroes couldn’t even get a hold of you ?? 

Finally, Jason catches you, just as Tim lunges forward and grasp his dad as well. The two of you wiggle like snakes as you try to get away, but you do not cry. 

No, on the contrary, you both laugh way too loudly, probably thinking that “destroying the house” was a great game.

And your kids could swear that your laughs were genuine “evil laughs”. 

Later, on the security camera, they’d know what happened. 

At first, you were both sitting on the floor, playing with toys, waiting patiently. But then, Bruce got on his feet, and walked that wobbly unsure walk all children have at first towards the coffee table. 

Something had caught his attention. It was a small crystal vase, that Alfred had put there years ago, for decoration. It went splendidly with the carpet, and matched the room perfectly. 

And it was shiny, and Bruce wanted it. 

He tried to climb on the coffee table, wiggling his little butt to give himself some momentum and get on it...but he couldn’t do it. That’s when you came into action, and pushed him so he would get on. 

He turned around, and giggled, as if to thank you, and then-

Then he brought you the vase. 

It was quite adorable, really. He wanted it, because it was shiny and looked cool. But then he decided to give it to you, instead. 

He let himself fall on the floor from the coffee table once he gave you the vase, and you both stared at it for a second. Before, for some reason, you took it and threw it hard on the wall ! 

Seriously, sometimes, kids were absolutely impossible to understand. What made you want to suddenly throw that vase like that ? Nobody would ever know. But what was known, is that it seemed like both you and Bruce liked that, because you looked at each others, as if conniving, and pushed yourself off of the floor, standing up. 

And then, as your children entered the room with some food, you proceeded to start destroying everything you could get your hands on, up until they finally managed to get a hold on you.

And your downright EVIL laughter filled the room.  

Your kids were DEFINITELY going to get that security camera footage out one day again, if you ever decided to punish them or scold them about something. 

Back to normal 

Zatanna, as usual, to the rescue. 

When your kids were finally able to reach her. She arrived barely minutes after they exposed the problems to her. She had been in another dimension, and therefor couldn’t be reached for a while. 

From her understanding, it’s been almost a month since you turned into toddlers. And finally, she was there (which was good, because Alfred’s one month vacation a year was coming to an end, and your kids really wanted to pretend nothing ever happened). 

Ah but she was accompanied by an unwanted visitor...

“What are you doing here, Constantine ?” Damian asks, holding you in one arm, and his father in the other. Protectively. 

“What, I learn that the big bad bat got turned into a kid and you think I could miss that ? No bloody way haha. Curiosity got the best of me !” 

“I’m sorry guys, I didn’t mean to tell him but he was there when you called...”

“It’s all good aunt Z, it’s all good. To be fair, I was hoping someone else would see this too, so we can NEVER let them forget they had to wear diapers again haha.” 

“Grayson !” your youngest son exclaimed. It’s been a while, since Damian called Dick “Grayson”, but he was absolutely shocked about this “betrayal” ! 

“Ok, ok. Let’s make sure dad never forget he had to wear diaper again !”

Damian thought about it for a while, and then said : “And you’ll leave mom alone ?”

“Yes, promised.” Dick says, and Constantine nods too (he wasn’t about to mock you anyway, he was too scared of you). 

“Alright, then it’s acceptable.” 

And on that note, Zatanna started a ritual. 

************

“What the hell happened ??” Are Bruce’s first words. And then, he sees you, and takes you into his arms, holding you with almost too strongly. 

“I thought I had lost you...” He whispers, and you hold him back just as strongly, because you had the same thought. The last thing you remembered, after all, was that laser coming towards the two of you and then-

And then what ? 

After letting you hug each other, your children finally tell you what went on. 

And oh. Oh you were so damn proud of them, they did so good ! 

I want a baby sibling 

A few weeks went by. 

A few weeks, during which both Dick and John Constantine flooded the group chat all the supers had together with baby pictures of the Batman (oddly enough, they didn’t divulge any picture of you...probably because you scared them a little), and embarrassing videos. It was an endless source of jokes, and teasing from everyone. 

But you didn’t worry too much though, you knew your husband would have his revenge (in fact, you were more worried for your son and for Constantine than anything else). 

In any case, that episode would be soon behind you, save for a few mockeries there and there. At least, that’s what you thought. 

One morning, Damian just casually entered your bedroom and stood before your bed, staring at the two of you, as you were slowly leaving the dream world. 

You thought it was an emergency, at first, as none of your children would ever dare to just walk in your bedroom like that (lest they witness something that could scar them for life). But Damian calculated the risks. 

It was much too early, for either of you to be awake. So it was safe. And so he came in, without knocking, and planted his feet resolutely in the floor, his hands on his waist, staring the both of you down. 

“What is it, buddy ?” You ask, half-asleep. Bruce, his hair a mess, sat up, dazed. 

“I came to an important decision. One taken in the light of recent events.”

Confused, neither you nor your husband say anything. Waiting for what your son is going to say next. Slowly, he turns around, and starts to walk left, then right, then left...Pacing in front of your bed, his eyes never leaving you two. 

Finally, he stops, and solemnly says : 

“I want a baby sibling. Sister or brother I do not care, I just want a little one to take care of, and to be a big brother. I think, I am done being the youngest.”

Bruce stares dumbly at his son, his face blank and expressionless, sure now that he must still be dreaming. And you’re not doing any better. You blink fast a few time, and repeat : 

“A baby sibling ?”

Damian doesn’t miss a beat as he says : 

“That’s right. Like I said, a little brother or sister, it does not matter to me, as long as it’s mine. My little brother or sister, I mean. Of course, they’ll be their own person, and we won’t own them per se. We’ll just take care of them.” 

Silence. 

A long silence. 

Finally broken by your son : 

“Well. I’ll leave you to it then. I expect you will take my request seriously. We will talk about it again another day. Thank you for listening to me, and see you at breakfast.” 

And on that note, your son leaves just as casually, as you look at him, astonished. 

You turn to your husband and-

You know what he’s thinking. You and Bruce never talked about having biological children, because the kids you already have were always enough for your happiness. You didn’t need more, you already loved them so much. 

But you both always told yourselves that if it were to happen...

Of course, you would accept it. You would raise that child with joy, too. It would be quite a bonus, to an already happy life. 

And so as your son leaves, and you look at each others you think-

A baby in the house, wouldn’t be so bad. 

__________________________________________________

Well, here we are ! I hope you liked this ! As per usual, comments/reblogs are more than welcomed, and always a great motivation to post more :). Don’t hesitate to tell me what you thought of this ! It always makes the time spend on a story worth it, when I hear from y’all :) <3. Thanks in advance, and thanks for reading this, too ! See you soon with another story ! 

[characteroulette]

Hey PQ was pretty good!

so I’m having trouble getting into PQ2 because of several factors, so I thought I’d write a half-think piece, half-essay on why I think the first PQ gets more flak than it deserves. So here’s that.

------

I genuinely don't understand why, when talking about Persona Q, people are always saying things along the lines of, "The gameplay was good, but the characters were trite and the story wasn't that great." Like, as a fan of the Persona series, I genuinely don't understand that assessment.

Not saying PQ is flawless, oh no. There are PLENTY of things in PQ that I have an axe to grind with (the small door scene with the P4 gang, for one), but the overall story? The characters? They're both fine. Good, even, dare I say. And here's my argument as to why:

The returning Persona series characters (from 3 and 4) in PQ do a good job of representing their games and their own personalities, even if a little more light-hearted than their source material,

AND

The story is genuinely in-line with the rest of the Persona/SMT series, even if it ultimately doesn't matter due to time shenanigans (and I'm okay with that).

These are my two points. Just those two. Because these are the two most contested parts of PQ, as far as I can hear, since we all agree that the gameplay is the real breadwinner here hahaha

Anyway.

First, let's talk about the returning characters, since they seem to be the ones who matter most. The P4 cast are generally less griped about (save Chie and Teddie) and I believe this is largely due to the brighter, more hopeful tone of P4 as a whole. (Aaand, in my opinion, they're done a MUCH BIGGER disservice in the Arena games, but no one ever talks about that so let's not bother with those right now.)

P4 was a game about making friends, the hijinx that come from that, and finding the truth about a string of murders and confronting the worst parts of yourself in a harsher world in the process! And it executes this with the appropriate amount of balance between serious moments and comedic relief. The theme colour for the whole game is bright yellow/gold, a happier and more friendly colour which helps remind you that this game is all in good fun.

(Side note here: I honestly think that P5 really failed in this respect, despite my liking its tone slightly more. I just personally like darker-themed games, but P5 was a little too dark and oppressive right out the gate, with hardly a friendly face, which helps make your gradually growing group of friends much more appreciated but also a harder atmosphere for jokes to really land well. Most of the 'funny' sequences felt very undeserved and really dragged because uh guys we literally just fought a rapist, an abusive father figure, and some other fucked-up shit. Can we please acknowledge that a bit more instead of pretending it never happened by laughing at the expense of Ann's autonomy of her body? Especially when she was a target of said rapist??) But that's its own discussion for later.

Really, the fact that most of the P4 gang get out of this with little criticism shows how accepted their caricatures have become. I guess? At least, except for Teddie and Chie.

Teddie being a wannabe Casanova must've been a huge hit with the Japanese audience, because it's just the hill he's going to die on for the writers. There was more to Teddie than his hitting on the girls in P4, believe it or not! (And there's a whole thing about it being brought on by him mimicking the type of behaviour he saw Yukiko's shadow exhibiting, which has a lot of really interesting undertones, but it makes him more swappable with Junpei, so whatever, I guess.) Meanwhile, Chie's not as meat-crazy, either, but I guess it's a better trait for them to roll with than her (cut in the translation) glossed-over sexism.

Both work fine, however, and aren't really too annoying enough to be that egregious. (Though they both go right up to the line sometimes. Teddie more so, but none of the girls playing along really helps show how gross his actions are. Most of the time.)

No, the real complaints I see directed at the characters being 'too cartoonish' are usually reserved for the P3 gang.

P3 is, really, such a bizarre game to go back to now when compared to its two successors. It's dark and hopeless, like P5, but formulaic and mystery, like P4. It's actually a natural progression when looking at its two/three older siblings (both P2s are bleak. As. Hell!), but, at least to me, it's the odd duck of the bunch, being the first to implement this winning formula of being caught in a time limit of a school year and managing spending time exploring this other world. It adds Social Links and social stats with this new time limit and this idea that the Persona and Shadows you fight don't just happen out on the streets in 'normal' circumstances for everyone to see. It pretty much went from an RPG to a management game with RPG elements.

And its emotional, impactful story, like P5, had a lot of tonal whiplash due to the attempts at comedy!

I feel like a lot of people forget this about P3 (and maybe I think more about it because I haven't actually beaten the whole game yet myself), but the story is actually a goddamn mess of tonal confusion. You got kids shooting themselves in the heads and a Social Link dealing with a classmate's crush on his teacher. You got wacky foreign exchange student and kids taking experimental drugs to suppress their Persona and slowly poisoning themselves to death as a side effect. The protagonist is an orphan who lost his parents in a huge, plot-relevant accident... But he's able to date every single girl at the same time and be the most wish fulfillment charming guy if the player so desires.

P3 being messy isn't a bad thing. P4, P5, and even P2 and PQ are all a little messy in their own rights, too. But because P3 was a lot of fans' first in the series, and PQ is just a spin-off, it gets way more flak for this than I feel it deserves.

(I mean, hey. Both P3 and P4 have those classic anime scenes of the boys walking in on the girls while at a hot springs. All PQ's got is an awkward group date scene and the implication that Yosuke and Kanji kissed each other while getting knocked out.) (They all. Have. Problems.)

And I know a lot of this comes down to personal preference. I'm not saying you're wrong for liking P3 or P4 more than PQ. I'm just saying I feel like PQ is often wrongly accused of being worse and less well-written when, really, they're all pretty much on par with each other. (And someone on the team really doesn't understand how to handle large casts of characters sharing the same space...)

But, personally, from everything I've seen from P3, I don't like the way most of the characters get presented to me in the source material. Junpei is way more insufferable in P3 than in PQ and Yukari is way more uninteresting in P3 than in PQ. Really, PQ helped me appreciate these characters more than P3 itself did. And, yes, they're more funny when they're trying to be, too. Because PQ is set up better for comedy than the 'remember you are mortal' tone of P3.

(Which makes dramatic moments hit all the harder when they happen) HEY check that segue! It's time to talk about the story and the two original characters of the game!

So, second point: people say the story isn't very good. To which I wanna ask... "Did you stop playing before defeating the fourth Boss?" Because it really sounds like, to me, everyone who says that didn't actually finish the game and reach all that juicy character development that happens for both sides around the fourth dungeon, where all the issues they've been building up (like Yukari's issue with Mitsuru for the P3 side and Kanji and Ken's awkwardness in the P4 side) start getting resolved in a satisfying way. And it comes with a reveal for the two characters we've been getting to know, Zen and Rei, as well.

(And, from here on in, there be spoilers. You've been warned.)

The two new characters to this game are Zen and Rei, who were in this place before the P3 or P4 gangs were called to the scene. Zen is quiet and a bit unsettlingly dense, but devoted to Rei, who is bubbly and full of life, but terrified of the dungeons you have to traverse. The two have been in this place for (what's implied to be) a very long time and enlist the help of the P3 and P4 teams in order to find a way out through defeating the bosses of each Labyrinth/dungeon. Simple enough, as it also helps the P3 and P4 team's goal of getting out. With each new dungeon, it feels more and more like something about Zen and Rei aren't quite right, but the length of the dungeon and all the team chats help you put it out of your mind each time. Rei can even get kinda annoying with her loudness and big appetite if you don't find her cute (which: how dare you. But yeah, I get it).

And then, at the end of a fiery festival fourth dungeon, you find yourself in a dark tomb at the bottom level. The boss awaiting you is Rei's shadow (a nice callback to the way P4 works) whom she still doesn't accept after you defeat it.

All the locks are gone and the P3 and P4 teams can return to their worlds if they wanted. Except Rei gets kidnapped after Zen reveals that Rei has been dead all along and it was him who trapped them here. It was he who created this place and even he who called both teams here.

And this was a plot twist that I friggin' loved.

It definitely had more impact on me because Zen and Rei easily became my favourites out of the whole cast, to the point of having them on my team for the whole game, but to find out such a fucked up twist is wild! (Seriously! Go watch the cutscene and tell me it isn't super fucked up!) You can say the P3 and P4 twists were shocking (or P5s I guess), but for my money, this is the best reversal of expectations I'd ever seen in a Persona game. In any game, really!

Zen was, in effect, the villain the whole time. His true identity as Chronos, God of time, makes sense with displacing the teams from their own times and the time here being erased once you reach the end. His own power that he sealed away growing impatient and taking matters into its own hands by drawing the teams to this haven displaced from time also makes perfect sense! And the entire climb through the last dungeon is his redemption arc and it makes for a super emotionally investing final dungeon all the way. (Which is great, because I hate every single one of the enemies that appear in this god-forsaken place.) (Even P4 and P5 can't really boast that, I felt very little investment through Izanami's dungeon and Baldabaoth's distortion.)

Of course, if you found Zen and Rei to be annoying and pointless, I can see how this would fall flat for you. The fact that they hinged such an emotional climax on these new characters, characters that don't even matter outside of this game!, was such a risky move. Especially when you consider this is just a fanservice game made basically under the promise of seeing the P3 team interact with the P4 team. But, for me, it really paid off.

And whatever complaints you had with the P3 or P4 characters, I feel like the resolutions to those character moments I mentioned earlier get explored even further during the climb through the final dungeon. From the P3 gang coming together to finally communicate with one another to the P4 gang reconfirming their bonds with one another, it's a really investing and emotional journey. I do wish the writing had been this tight and impactful through more of the game, but I believe it's worth it in the end.

Perhaps this moment comes too late in the game, though. I can definitely see others giving up before reaching this point due to the repetitive nature of the dungeons and the tidbits of character development that are meant to build up to this moment that can be too sparsely placed. (But, really, it's the same from P3 to P5, Social Links don't really add much variety when they can be just as repetitive and boring, just saying. Especially when you get caught in waiting to rank up hell, ugh.) For me, however, this really sealed the deal on this game being an incredible experience that I adored from start to finish. 7/10. Final score.

....

....

(7 outta 10?? Not perfect??) Well, it's not perfect. Japan's blatant homophobia and sexism really ruins a lot of scenes for me. I'm super salty especially about how the fake marriage scenes are handled so differently from the girl choices to the boy choices. (But you just argued in its favour for 2000 words!) Listen. ALL the Persona games wouldn't receive perfect scores for me for this aspect alone. There are a lot of other factors as well, but they vary from title to title and PQ in particular is guilty of spending too much time focusing on Teddie and Junpei being girl-crazy. And Marie is in this game more than she really should be. UGH.

But I digress.

In conclusion, this game's story and characters are better than most give it credit for. Hopefully, my argument helped you see why I believe this and why I think claiming that both aspects are just 'bad' is lazy.

[blasphoeme]

I Love You More Than Ice Cream

It’s A Date

Chap 5/?

Chapter Summary:

Jon takes Dany on their very first date. A dinner for two under the starry sky, talks of childhood shenanigans and a relatively large revelation about Jon comes to light. How will things go? Will they have a good time? Will the night end with a sweet goodnight in a meeting of lips for the very first time? Read on my dear readers XD.

Can be read on Ao3 too. Along with the previous chaps 1, 2, 3, 4. :)

A small smile edged its way onto her lips, inch by inch, growing and growing into a huge grin as she took in the view before her. An inexplicable sense of surprise settled in her belly and blossomed into wonder. Nestled behind the bright towering neon letters displaying the word ‘diner’ was a rooftop garden.

Though the area wasn’t very spacious, pots and planters housing various flowers and herbs galore were lined up neatly in two rows starting from the metal gate and along the perimeter of the space. Spindly leafy appendages bobbed in time with the cool evening breeze. The earthy scent of dirt, picked up by the circulating air currents harmonized wonderfully with the sweet exotic aroma of plants. Creeper vines twisted their nimble bodies around the steel skeleton of the neon sign, inching all the way up the pillars, across the wooden beams of the pergola overhead. Intermingled with the leaves were fairy lights, posing as wannabe stars that twinkled faintly against the backdrop of the setting sun. In the middle of the garden sat a table, decked out for two.

Ambling slowly behind Dany with his hands tucked into his jeans pockets, Jon’s eyes tracked her every move as she navigated her way through the garden. He could barely contain his joy, so thrilled to see the wide-eyed look of fascination on her face. He thanked his lucky stars for having such a supportive family who were more than ecstatic when he told them he was bringing his crush on a date. His uncle immediately pushed for them to have it at this very diner. To be more original, Arya then suggested that they modify the venue a little. Instead of eating in the diner, crammed into a booth during dinner rush, having to shout to hear each other over the crowd, why not make it a little more romantic? They’d spend the past week preparing for this moment. From the menu, to the decorations and the flower bouquet he gifted to her. Gaping at the splendour around her, at the flora with hues of every shade of the rainbow, taking it all in, Dany was in awe. Along the little path between the plants she went, she also spotted several pots of daisies sitting in a corner. Jon must have picked each flower one by one to form the bouquet for her. All around her, every plant in the garden looked healthy and strong, making her wonder just how much labour and love was poured into tending to this magical little sanctuary, hidden away from the eyes of the people on the street. 

As she neared the clearing where the table was, a flash of colour at her periphery caught her eye. Huddled amongst the miscellaneous flora was an unusual rose bush. Stopping before it, she got onto her haunches to get a closer look. Never had she seen roses of that colour nor had she smelt a scent so sweet. The blossoms, just beginning to bloom wore a hue of the bluest, clearest sky on a sunny cloudless day. Under her thumb the unmarred azure petals were of the smoothest of velvet. “You’ve never been here before now have you?” Glancing up at her date for the night, who had came to a stop by her side, Dany stated dryly: “If I did, I would’ve been trespassing on private property.” Just then, the puppy in her arms that she had almost forgotten was there, started to wiggle, whining to be let down. “You want to go explore too little guy? Okay.” Dany placed Ghost onto the concrete ground. As soon as he landed, he darted forwards in a run before turning the corner and disappearing behind the back wall like he was accustomed with the place already. Strange. “You’re here! Finally!“ Following the voice, Dany was pleasantly surprised to find a petite young woman standing by a small door that looked to be a dumbwaiter sitting in the wall. “Welcome to Lone Wolf Diner where the pack serves fries, free with every main course you order!” The girl continued, reciting the well-versed motto of her family’s diner. With a gasp and a happy heart, quick steps brought her over to the girl. Pulling her in for a big hug, Dany squealed. “Arya! It’s so good to see you again. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” “Hi! And yes it has been too long. We’ve missed hanging out with you so much.” Arya hugged her back, tightly. She liked Dany very much. Memories of nights staying up late with her siblings way pass their bed time, cuddled into Dany’s sides on the couch, gorging on snacks whilst a Disney movie played on the television were the catalysts for the fondness she held for her favourite babysitter. Plus, the woman, then teenager made really yummy treats. She’d always had a knack for it. Arya drew back from their hug, still clutching Dany’s hands in hers. Her large grey eyes were sparkling with hopeful glee. “Now that you’re dating Jon.... Maybe you’d be around more often.”

“Wait... you guys know each other?” 

“I should have told you earlier but we didn’t gotten the chance to. We’re family and Arya’s my cousin.” Moving over to the table, Jon pulled out a chair for Dany before turning to look at her expectantly with a touch of hesitance and sheepishness. He hoped she didn’t feel miffed about his identity. His family was her competition after all.

Wordlessly applauding Jon’s gallantry, Arya tugged a gawping Dany by the arm over to the table and shepherded her into her seat. “Thank you.” Dany muttered absently over her shoulder to Jon as he pushed her chair in like the gentleman he was. Once Jon was seated opposite her, Dany looked between him and Arya in complete bafflement. “Mister Stark’s your uncle? Mister Benjen has a child?” “Oh no, Jon is Auntie Lyanna’s son.” Arya commented. “Lyanna? I never knew Mister Stark had a sister.” “My mum left to explore the world when she turned twenty one with nothing but a suit case and a thirst for adventure. Long story short, she met my dad who was on vacation in Greece, fell in love and had me. She hasn’t been back here in ages because she says she has so much more to see of this world and she would only return when she’s done. They’re currently in New Zealand now.” “Auntie Lyanna is such a badass! Sometimes, we get to talk with her on the phone or even video call and she’s always in a different country every time! She’s my inspiration.” Arya gushed with complete admiration for her globe-trotting aunt. Looking to Jon, she added as forethought, “Your dad is a total badass too of course. Can’t forget him.” “Thanks.” Jon smiled, fiddling with the fork laid out for him on the table. His parents were definitely not the most conventional kind. The years of his childhood up till the age of fifteen, just before his grandparents enrolled him into the boarding school his father had attended as a child in England, were spent in foreign countries. The things he learnt about the people, the culture, all that knowledge that comes from traveling had shaped him into the man he was today. “That’s amazing. Your parents are such courageous people and you must have had such a fun childhood!” Dany couldn’t help feeling a tad bit envious. Traveling the world, visiting distant lands, soaking up all that the world had to offer? That would be the perfect life. An ambitious dream that she’d had since forever. “I hope to tick that off my bucket list one day. To leave my footprints all around the world and see everything.” “Oh.... Why don’t you guys go together? Start off with New Zealand to visit Auntie Lyanna, meet the parents and all that.” Voicing her suggestion, Arya waggled her dark brows at Dany while clapping a hand repeatedly on Jon’s shoulder. Teasing Jon alone was hardly this entertaining! The two adults before her were growing as red as the beetroots that her mother cultivated in summer. She could nearly feel the heat radiating off the two of them. I could even fry eggs on the apples of their cheeks, she thought. “All right, okay I’ll stop messing with you two now. You guys are just so adorable. Sheesh!” Arya scampered back to the dumbwaiter. “My main mission for coming up here was to inform you that your food would come straight up from the kitchen downstairs in this contraption.” Patting the shiny metal door she elaborated, “When you’re done with each course, just send the dishes back down with this button and the next course will be sent up for you.” Jon and Dany nodded at her instructions mutely, each looking down at their feet and fingers respectively, their faces aflame. Maybe just one more time wouldn’t hurt? Never one to miss a chance at letting her trickster side out, Arya didn’t even bother putting a stopper on her next ploy. “Before I go, you want to know something stinkingly cute, Dany?” “Hmm?” At the mention of her name, Dany’s head shot up to Arya from staring at her twiddling fingers lying on her lap. “This guy here?” Locking an arm around her cousin’s neck, Arya revealed to Dany something Jon probably would never for the life of him, want her to find out about. “He spent the whole morning looking at his reflection giving himself a stern pep talk on what to say, what to do and to not freak out when he goes to pick you up.” Arya was bouncing with excitement. She’d been waiting a whole week for this moment to do this. Some would say it was mean but she liked to think it was what family did, practical jokes, endless teasing and tasteful pranks of course. His embarrassment from before hadn’t even faded and now this? Jon’s jaw fell in mortification. Glancing at Dany out of the corner of his eye, the mirthful surprise dancing within her pretty purple eyes and the daintily arched brow had a further gush of heat rushing straight up to his head like the mercury line of a thermometer, forcing his face to heat up even more. Reaching around Arya, his arms flailed as he tried to stop her blabbing. He had to curb to spill of words from her mouth. His grumbles of ‘Shut up, Arya!’ did nothing to stop her, cackling ecstatically to herself, Arya’s slender fingers wound themselves tightly around Jon’s wrists. With a strong grip, developed from years of rough housing with her three brothers, she held Jon’s hands effortlessly away from her face. She was on a roll and she wasn’t going to let him stop her. “I could go on all day about how panicky he’d been since he came home from meeting you last week. This was the first time we’ve ever seen broody Jon this uncharacteristically... un-broody. Beaming like a loon while staring into space thinking about you. He couldn’t even go two sentences without mentioning your name!” “I don’t do that.... surely?” Jon uttered indignantly to himself, struggling to free his hands from Arya’s claws. “Oh yes. You sure do!” Noticing Dany’s hands clamped over her mouth and the tremor in her shoulders, filled Arya with a smug sense of accomplishment. “If you didn’t know before, this man is downright smitten with you!” The plaintive groans from the man behind her only spurred her on even more. “Naturally, we couldn’t let this chance pass him by! We all pitched in to set up this date for the both you!” The five siblings minus their eldest brother, Robb, who was busy with his job and a baby on the way, had spent the day hanging up the fairy lights, rearranging the pots and cleaning up the rooftop, making it presentable for their guest. Abruptly, she let go of Jon’s wrists causing him to fall back down into his seat, landing on his bum with an ‘oof!’.

Swapping out playfulness with sincerity, Arya took a step closer to where Dany sat. “He really, really likes you, Dany. We hope you feel the same for him too.” Taking the young girl’s hands in hers and squeezing them, Dany couldn’t deny that Arya’s revelation, knowing that he was just as anxious and happy about their date as her only made Jon all the more favourable in her eyes. Meeting the eyes of the blushing, endearing man across the table, she informed the two of them and herself out loud for the first time, “It just so happens, I like him a lot too.” There was a swooping in his tummy like a rollercoaster, free falling to the pull of gravity before shooting back up again. Jon grinned, his brown eyes squinting intensely from the push of his smile. They were trained on the dark wood of the table. Nowhere near the stunning woman he knew was watching him with her twinkling eyes. She likes him! “Aww you guys are so sweet!” Arya cheered. The man that was her favourite cousin, technically only cousin but it still counted, wore the dopiest grin she’d ever seen strung across his lips. Her favourite babysitter looked so demure, giving the man on the other side of the table bashful glances from beneath her lashes, accompanied by a red tinge on her face. Their happiness seemed to light them up from the inside out. Arya’s own smile softened into relieved one. It was evident that these two silly lovebirds were made for each other. Deciding it was time to stop bugging them, Arya coughed just loud enough to draw Jon and Dany’s mooneyes away from each other, she bid them farewell. “I’ll leave you guys alone now. Enjoy your dinner! I’ll see you around, Dany!” “It’s been great seeing you again!” Dany said, watching as the brunette girl tossed a quick wave in her direction before going around the wall that Ghost had disappeared behind. Leaning forward, she caught a glimpse of a glass sliding door slide shut, followed by the closing of a retractable folding door with wooden shutters. With Arya gone the rooftop became so quiet, save for the two people seated giggling at each other, suddenly shy again. Dany’s admission of her feelings for her date came rolling back, slamming into them both like a torrent of untameable waves. Idly tracing a line against the grain of the wooden table with his finger, Jon voiced that singular, blaring thought that had been whirling through his mind for the past few minutes: “So.... you... like me?” He looked like a young boy kicking at stones with his feet as he waited for his crush to push him away, waiting for her to decide that she didn’t want to play with him anymore because he wasn’t cool like the big kids.

Dany nodded resolutely. It was too late to turn back now, might as well take it all with her chin held high. “Yes.” She could hardly believe that she had said it right in front of his face without any hesitation at all! All this while she never told a soul save for Missandei. She hadn’t even dared to declare those feelings to herself yet! Where did that courage come from, she wondered. Heart hammering hard behind the curve of her ribs, Dany pondered at how miraculous the human body was. How was it that seeing Jon smile at her could have her feeling so peculiarly wonderful, all fuzzy and effervescent on the inside? “They say first impressions are everything. First dates even more so I think. I hadn’t come clean about my family to you before today and you had to hear all about my awkward self just now thanks to my pesky relative. You still like me?” Those wide chocolate orbs looking back at her were teeming with an open vulnerability that sent her heart lurching. He was so beautiful, how could she not adore him? “Oh, Jon. I’m very happy that you’re related to the Starks. They watched me grow up and your uncle has helped me so much with my business, I owe them a lot. Don’t be sorry for not telling me sooner. As you mentioned, we’ve haven’t had the time.” Threading her fingers with his, Dany marvelled at how perfectly their digits slid into place, hers within the gaps of his and his within hers. “And if you must know, I meant what I said. I like you and your awkward self very, very much.” “Well.... I’m immensely pleased to hear that.” Jon gave the slender fingers linked with his a light squeeze. Tenderly, his thumb began to move. “I just so happen to like you a lot too. You and your perfect self.” And he truly did. This was a long time coming confession since the moment his heart was struck down by the sight of her smile. Transfixed, Dany watched the path of Jon’s thumb as it outlined the curve between her index finger and thumb. His feather light touch stirred up a flurry of goose bumps all over her body and a need for something, something more. Subconsciously, she wriggled in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs.Expelling a tremor-laden chuckle, Dany professed, “Believe me when I say I’m not perfect. You haven’t see the side of me that’s not on a date with a handsome man yet.” “Oh. I hope you don’t mind if I stick around to find out then?” His voice adopted that hopeful lilt once more. She called him handsome. His stomach did a summersault. “I’d like that, yes. Very much actually.” She wondered if they would get to the point where they could be comfortably unglamorous around each other. The two of them lounged in front of the television, gorging on greasy pizzas or mornings where the first thing they saw of each other was messy bed head. She prayed they’d get there one day. Just then the mechanism within the little food elevator came on, producing a whirring noise, leading up to a cheery ‘ding’. The little button beside the door lit up too. Their dinner was served. 

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Reluctantly letting go of her hand, Jon went over to the dumbwaiter. Pushing the doors apart, two steaming bowls of par green soup were revealed, served on a wooden tray. A folded piece of cream-colored paper sat word side down like an erected tent in between the bowls. Lifting the tray from the metal box, Jon brought it over to their table. Careful not to spill any of the soup, he served a bowl to his eagerly awaiting date first and then himself. The tantalizing fragrance of something rich and earthy hit Dany’s nose as it wafted up into the air with the steam. “Oh... I can’t wait to try this. Looks and smells like asparagus or could it be peas? What does that note say?” Picking up the folded note, Jon’s eyes gave it a skim. “Hello young lovers...” Relishing in Dany’s tinkle of a giggle, lips twitching upwards in response, he continued, “To start off your evening, I have prepared a cream based soup that features the freshest of spring ingredients - asparagus, peas and fennel. Spring is a time for new beginnings and new relationships alike. I hope you’ll have a splendid date and may your budding romance flourish like a blossom coming to bloom under the nurturing hand of nature. Love, Ned, your chef and hopefully family in due time.” Family! Nibbling on her lower lip, a new wave of heat simmered under her skin at Ned’s pointedly written words directed at her. It was all too soon. Dare she hope to be a part of Jon’s family? Tucking an errant tendril of hair behind her ear, she begged her heart to stop pounding just enough for her to get through this dinner. Resting the paper on the table, Jon gulped, shoving the torrent of flustered nerves back into the depths of his belly. His uncle really was too much sometimes. He’d been so preoccupied with trying to make her notice him that the idea of having Dany in his life forever never even had the chance to cross his mind yet. Having her successfully look his way was a miracle in itself! One day in the future, perchance she’d have him entirely, for a long, long time. Only then, he’d consider himself, truly, the luckiest man on earth. “Umm... So... Shall we?”

“Yes. Let’s eat! Bon appétit.” 

Dunking her spoon it into her bowl, Dany swirled the dollop of cream around until it blended in with the milky, pale green, piping hot liquid goodness. The little cubes of toasted bread floated like isles in a sea of green.

Desperately needing something to calm the fluttering in her middle, she brought the spoon back up and towards her lips before taking a sip. The moan that flew out of her lips, still attached to the spoon would have made her blush if she wasn’t already ladling another spoonful of the wonderful warm soup into her mouth. It could easily be the best thing she’d ever tasted. The earthy sweet flavourful medley of asparagus, peas and fennel was strong upon her tongue, yet it left a light, refreshing aftertaste, making her want more. If tea was a hug in a mug, this soup was like consuming liquid sunshine. Before she knew it, she had reached the bottom of her bowl. Sitting across from her, Jon slurped up his soup just as speedily, just noticing how famished he was having not eaten much all day, too anxious to ingest anything but a few bites of toast that morning. Sitting back in his seat feeling satisfied, Jon smacked his lips, savouring any remnant taste of the soup in his mouth. Having eaten his food every day, he could really attest that his uncle truly was a very capable chef. Judging from Dany’s gleaming bowl, he could tell that she would thoroughly agree with him.

“Shall I send our dishes back done and move on to the main course?” “Yes please!” Already moving to place her empty bowl and used spoon back onto the tray that it came from, Dany replied, her enthusiasm palpable. Down the dishes went and up came more. This time, it was two serves of warm lasagna and a bottle of red to go with them. “Oh! I haven’t had this in ages!” The familiar fragrance of tomato, onions, garlic, minced beef and Italian herbs filled the air. “You know I used to come to the diner after school every day just to have Mister Stark’s lasagna?” “I think my uncle must have known that.” Lifting up the note that came with their food, Jon flipped it the right side up before taking in the scrawl of letters. “Ah! Yes. He said so right here.” This note was much shorter than the last, lacking in more teasing quips, thank the gods. “‘For your main course, a classic from this very diner and a favourite of a certain little lady with the purple eyes. The bottle of Merlot goes really well with the red sauce.’” The layers of pasta, meat sauce and cheese caved under the pressure of her fork like butter under the blade of a hot knife. Lifting the fork towards her mouth, pulling a string of gooey melted cheese along with it, Dany blew on the forkful hastily before popping it into her mouth. The taste was just as she remembered, transporting her instantly back to the days of her youth when she’d run over to the diner instead of going home for lunch. “My mum could never make it quite as good as his. Don’t ever tell her I said that. She’s great with numbers but she isn’t that much of a cook.” Pouring some wine into a wine glass for Dany and then tipping some into his own, Jon smiled a wistful smile. An image of the cutest little girl with silver curls and lavender eyes like a doll formed in his mind. What would it have been like to grow up with her? Would they have been good friends? Would they have found themselves in their current state much sooner? “What I wouldn’t give to meet little you. I bet you were just as wonderful as you are now.” “Mm.” Shaking her head with her mouth stuffed, Dany chewed quickly and swallowed. “Wonderful? I wouldn’t go that far. I’ll have you know that I was quite naughty as a child. Detention was my best friend in high school.” Taking a sip of his wine, Jon couldn’t help but disagree. “I find that hard to believe.” “It’s true! You see I had a bad boy jock boyfriend at the time. I used to get up to lots of silly, sometimes not so nice antics just to get myself into detention so I could be with him a little more.” A ruefully half smirk tugged at her lips from behind her wine glass. “When he dumped me after two years, a veil had lifted and I could finally see that in my strive to keep him with me the people around me got hurt.” Thumbtacks scattered upon a teacher’s chair, gum in their hair, all the notorious things that she never would have done if she were given another chance to relive her childhood. Her parents were so disappointed in her. “I did get over him eventually and the pain didn’t last for long. After that, I knew I had to change. So, I apologized to everyone I hurt and I worked hard in school. I got into college and all the rest was history. Time heals even the deepest of wounds I suppose.” ”I need to put it out there. That jackass was an idiot for leaving you.” How could anyone do that to someone like her? He would never, ever have left her. “And for what it’s worth, you were just a child then. I think we’ve all done things we aren’t too proud of as kids. Whether it was to fit in or earn the affection of someone we liked.” Giving Jon’s arm a gentle squeeze, Dany gave him a grateful smile, passing along a silent ‘thank you’. He understood her.  The chance of finding someone who you could relate to was so slim. Someone like him was rare in the world. For that, she counted herself extremely blessed.

“What I am most intrigued about now is… What, may I ask, did you do as a boy that was so shameful?“ “All I’m going to say is that it involved drunkenness, a bottle of the headmaster’s whiskey and a dare.” Dany’s eyebrow rose up high. She could venture a guess as to the outcome from all the clues he dropped and it sounded like an entertaining tale. “What happened?” “Not telling.” Batting her eyelashes coquettishly, putting on her best puppy dog eyes, Dany pleaded with him. “Tell me... please...?” This woman would be the death of him. He was sure of it. How was he to deny her anything when she looked like that? Groaning under effect of those large doe like eyes of hers, his resolve crumbled like a house of cards.“Fine. I will tell you on one condition that this stays between us and only us. No one else can know about this.” Index finger drawing a cross over her heart, Dany gave him a solemn nod in promise. “I won’t tell anyone.” Resting her forearms on the table, interlocking her fingers on the table, Dany leant forward, ready to listen to whatever sordid tale Jon had to tell. Taking a gulp of his wine, shifting to mimic Dany’s posture, Jon commenced his tale. He regaled her of a drunken night of partying, which lead to a classic game of truth or dare. Bolstered by the copious amounts of beer and spiked punch, young Jon chose to participate in a dare which required him to steal the bottle of Jameson stored in the bottom left drawer of his headmaster’s desk. Simple enough, right? How naïve he was. Just sneak in quick, pick the lock and get out. Unfortunately for him, there was a catch. He had to run from the dorms to the other side of the campus.

Naked as the day he was born. “No.... You didn’t!” “You can bet all the money in the world that I did.” There he went in the dark of night, butt naked, streaking across the campus grounds. His gaggle of drunken friends followed behind him, giggling like schoolgirls. Up the stairs they went, stopping just outside their destination. To their utmost joy, the office door was unlocked! In Jon crept, his friends waiting outside the corridor for him to emerge victorious. “There I stood without a stitch on me, clumsily fumbling with the handle of the drawer, trying so hard to pull it open. Until, it came to me that I didn’t know how to pick a lock. To make matters worse, the headmaster chose that very moment to traipse back into his office.” “Oh dear...” Dany cringed. She had an inkling of what was coming. His fellow dorm mates and friends had bailed on him once they caught sight of Mr Montgomery’s shiny baldhead. In the end, their pajama-clad headmaster caught a very exposed, totally hammered, teenage Jon standing by his desk trying to break into his finest whiskey. Shrugging as nonchalantly as he could Jon casually picked up his wine glass and swirled the maroon liquid around. “I spent two weeks on kitchen duty after and none of the boys would let me forget that night. I was pretty much a legend.” “A shameless one at that!” A bark of laughter erupted from Dany’s mouth. She was so glad that she wasn’t drinking her wine. Otherwise, it would have gone up her nose and projected everywhere. “I’m glad my plight amuses you.” Jon said appreciating how charming Dany looked succumbed to the call of full belly chortles. Her laughter filled him with veneration and pride knowing that he brought it to light. Everyone knows a good meal cannot end without dessert. For such a special occasion, Ned had created something new for them - a s’more pie. Sitting on two plates were two generously large slices. A base of crushed Graham crackers, a filling of decedent dark chocolate mousse topped with pieces of toasted marshmallows. Just as the last two courses, this final one was enjoyed and disappeared in the blink of an eye betwixt a volley of banter and a chorus of laughter. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Dad! Leave the two of them alone.” Sansa laughed. Her father had his hands cupped around his eyes straining to peek through the wooden shutters at the two little lovebirds dining outside. Looking over the railing from his position a top the spiral staircase leading to the roof, Ned asked his brood: “Aren’t you curious about how things are going? My only baby sister’s son is on a date! The last time he was here he was just a wee boy of four! I was never there to see him grow up and I’ve definitely never had the chance to see him bring a girl home before.” His arms waving about animatedly and his eyes exaggeratedly wide as he sprinted back up the steps.“Oh.... I need to document every second of this fine moment for your aunt. Do they like my food?” Arya and Rickon were practically rolling on the carpet laughing at their dramatic daddy. Rolling her eyes, Sansa shook her head once more before turning back to her laptop. Rickon gave his brother, Bran’s leg a shake only to get a grunt in return. Frowning at his brother’s engrossment in his book. The fool is missing out with his nose always stuck in a book! Looking up at his father’s back, he pointed out a very obvious problem. “You’re not doing it right, daddy! The wood is blocking your eyes! You need to open the window to see.” Ned pried away one of the loose pieces of wood from the shutters with a triumphant ‘hah!’. Pressing his ear to the strip of glass revealed all he heard was muffled laughter and conversation. With his eyes cupped to erase any trace of a reflection, he could see their silhouettes in the dark pretty well thanks to the fairy lights they’d strung up. Jon and Dany seemed to be having a good time, animatedly chatting over their dessert with smiles plastered on their faces. Replacing the wooden plank in its rightful place, Ned knew Lyanna would be happy to know that her quiet son had found himself a nice girl. “Or... we could sneak a camera out there to watch them! That way you could document their interactions properly too. Why didn’t I think of this sooner! From the way they were mooning all over each other even with me standing right there, this has got to be good!” Bolting up from her sprawled position within her nest of pillows on the floor that she was sharing with Rickon, Arya’s eyes glowed with excitement. Her new prototype could finally be taken out for a trial run! “I’ll go and get it for you. I have just the thing!” “Hold on a minute, kiddo.” Ned caught his pesky daughter around her shoulders and reeled her in to him. Peering up at her father, she asked in her most innocent voice: “When did you come back down from there, daddy? You’re very quick.” Ruffling her head of raven curls that matched his own minus the odd strands of grey, Ned’s heart swelled with love. They said a parent should never have a favourite child, but he couldn’t help it. Even though he loved all his children, all five of them very much, Arya was his baby girl. “I think filming them might be a bit too intrusive. Your sister is right. Let’s give them their space to be better acquainted.” “Aww man! My miniature camera goes untested once again!” Hugging her father around his waist, she nuzzled her face into his chest and whined. Patting her hair, Ned smiled. No matter how big she got, she was still his headstrong, spirited, incredibly bright baby girl. Now, he had to make an international call to New Zealand. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- With sated bellies, minds a buzz from the wine, the two budding lovers meandered along the vacant streets, hands finding each other’s in the dark. Reaching the street that would take them to Dany’s home, she huddled closer into Jon’s side, not out of fear for what loitered in the night but for the reassurance that he was truly real and to prove that the lovely evening they’d spent together truly did happen. Each step they took, dawdled a little more the closer they got to their destination. Taking pauses every few seconds to just bask in each other’s presence for a little while longer. Neither of them wanted the night to end that soon. “I’ve loved every second of this evening, Jon. Please give my compliments to the chef and I think he’d be happy to know that I may have gotten some inspiration from this wonderful meal for my next range of ice cream flavours.” “What do you have in mind?” 

Trying hard not to stumble in the dark as they made their way up the steps to her little ice cream haven, Jon couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting back to Dany. Watching every move she made, gracefully moving between the shadows of the night. The beams of moonlight painted her in an ethereal glow. Like an elven nymph dancing before him, leading him along by the hand to wherever her heart desired to go. The small hand tightly tucked within his, the warmth of her palm pressed against his was a homing beacon for all his senses to congregate to. He felt light and tingly all over. Boy, was he far gone. Not letting go of his hand, Dany stepped up onto her porch and spun around to face him. Jon now stood a step below her, gazing up at her with his deep chocolate eyes that shone with unwavering adoration under the silver light of the moon.

An adoration for her.

It was hard to fathom this happening so quickly considering they’d only just met only recently. Who was she to deny the affections of someone so genuinely sweet? Someone who was captivated by her, not just for her looks but she was inclined to believe that it was for all of her, inside and out. If Jon wanted to discover it all, discover every single thing about her? She would personally hold the door open and invite him in.  “Mmm.... I’m afraid you’ll have to swing by tomorrow and find out for yourself.” 

Any excuse, any chance to see this darling man again, she would come up with and take them all. After all, he wasn’t the only one who was paddling in the deep end of affection. He wanted to be with her and she too wanted him close, so very much. She hadn’t smiled or laughed like she had with a member of the opposite sex in so long. Every moment spent with Jon brought her to life. She wanted to learn all that she could about this man who was so quickly becoming a fixture that she wanted to create a permanent home for in her world. “Are you asking me out on a date, my lady?” “You gave me such a marvellous one tonight. Turn about is only fair. What do you say to hanging out in my kitchen and do some experiments on ice cream with me?” “I say.... experimentation with food may not be as great as a three course meal but I suppose it’d be nice.” He couldn’t help it. He had to know how this perfect woman would react should he push her buttons a little. “Hey! Are you underestimating my abilities to provide a good time? At least give a girl a chance! Ice cream making is an art that requires precision and wit, which I assume you’ve never experienced before. Here I thought it would be something fun for us to do together.” Releasing a harrumph, Dany swatted him lightly on the arm with her free hand before making a move to shake off his hand that was still clasped around hers. Chuckling, Jon tightened his hold on her hand and drew his very cute pouty-lipped date towards him. A sharp gasp escaped from her as her body collided with his. Perhaps it was the alcohol giving him a boost in confidence, his arm shot out to snake around Dany’s waist. Whether it was to keep her from falling or to usher her in closer to him, Jon really couldn’t say. The urge to have her as close to him as humanly possible was all too compelling. 

“I was merely playing with you.” The instant their bodies aligned, the air around them crackled with a certain tension that had both their hearts leaping into their mouths. “You’re coming tomorrow? This date might not to be a very romantic one nor does it go according to the list of cliché activities of what couples usually go for.” Her hands grabbed at Jon’s shoulders in seek of some semblance of balance while her heart went haywire, beating out of tempo like an un-tuned metronome. Their sudden closeness threw her, bringing forth dizziness. Jon’s broad chest rose and fell against hers, each inhale and exhale of his, pressed him to her even more. A callused thumb coasting down the curve of her cheek had a tremor zinging through her body. It felt so good that her knees could have buckled under her. A tiny whimper lodged its way up her throat.  Their lips parted without much coaxing. Just an inch closer and they would touch. Curiosity lanced with desire coiled deep within their beings. Did they dare to venture a taste? Was it all too soon to cross that boundary, to take a step in the direction of physical intimacy? Could they throw everything to the wind and give in to that temptation? “My answer to your request is, yes, I would love nothing more than to come over.” Under the spell of that irresistible magnetic pull between them, Jon inched even closer to his ladylove. No one knew what supplied him with the courage to do what he did next, but nonetheless, he brushed the tip of his nose alongside hers before running it up and down along the length of her nose, keeping his touch to a graze. “As long as we’re together, anything would be fine. What we do wouldn’t matter if I got to spend time with you. I’m sure we could find a way to amp up the romance somehow anyway.” His ticklish caresses and those affectionate, heartfelt words articulated in that husky voice of his had jolts of electricity bolting straight towards the point between her legs, at the apex where her thighs met. Dany’s toes curled within her sneakers. Oh god, what was happening to her? “I’ll be here tomorrow. How about around the time your shop closes?” Jon whispered. There was no need to speak much louder than that with her so near. So near, he could count the freckles fanning out across her cheeks.

Their lips were now a mere hair’s breadth apart. So close, that each exhalation from their lungs mingled between them. Dany’s eyes grew enthralled by the movement of Jon’s lips and his pink tongue that darted out to moisten his lips.

Just a little closer.

Embroiled in the magic of the moment, her words eluded her. All she could manage was a nod and a hum of acquiescence. That mouth of his was so pretty, unfairly pretty for a man. She had a sudden craving to know how they felt moving against hers. Would those enticing lips be smooth or would they be rough? Whether his tongue would set her body on fire, trailing down her neck or up the inside of her thighs to kiss her there? What was this man kindling in her?

Looking back on that very night, neither of them could pin point with confidence which one out of the two of them made the first move. Dany would deny vehemently that it was her and Jon would do the same when she brought it up. Back in the present, the miniscule gap keeping them apart vanished in an ever so gentle collision of lips, like the timid flutter of a butterfly’s wings. The tentative press of their closed lips lingered and their hearts lurched to a halt. Sucking in a sharp breath through their noses, their beating organs came to, riding upon the backs of a horde of stampeding rhinoceroses that rattled them both to the core. Just a sweet, delicate touch was enough to send their senses into a tizzy, lighting up every nerve ending in their bodies like the insides of a pinball machine.

Kissing each other was everything they had expected and so much more. For Jon, Dany’s lips under his were like the insides of a rosebud, soft and sweet, bringing forth a sense of possessiveness from his core. For Dany, Jon’s plaint lips were a little dry and yet still very pleasant. Combined with the steady enclosure of his arms around her holding her upright and his lips moving in what she could only describe as lovingly upon hers made her shiver. It was a shame that their physiological demand for air forced them to drag their lips unwittingly away from their lip lock. A euphoric sort of bubble held them both hostage and neither of them was eager to depart from it. So, they stood together just breathing as one, taking in some much needed air. Meeting each other’s eyes, they saw disbelief, stunned surprise and something else swimming in there. Their gazes held for moments as they watched the desire within each other’s pupils flare up and expand, pushing their irises outwards until there was just a small ring left.

He (She) had to have more, no, needed more.

They plunged headfirst, back in for more. This time, their parted lips fused seamlessly, both of them hungry for the sweetness they knew would be found within. Hesitantly still, yet fuelled by a newfound passion, their tongues met in a timid flick, kicking up a languid rhythm, relishing in the taste of the person in their arms. Their dance soon became frenzied and moans floated unbridled to the sky with each tilt of their heads. Without conscious thought, their hands began to wander, searching for an anchor at whatever they could reach. Jon’s fingers fisted at the silky locks that hung loose down Dany’s back while hers burrowed their way into the curls at the nape of his neck. Their daydreams and fantasies paled in comparison to how delicious reality was. Each slant of their mouths, each touch of their lips, stroke of their tongues brought about a hint of wine and an intoxicating flavour that was uniquely their own.

And as they broke apart, heads spinning and hearts reverberating like jackhammers within their chest cavities, Jon tipped his forehead to Dany’s. Letting out a quiet laugh under his breath, his mind fought to catch up with the rest of his body. “For a first kiss, that was...” “Fantastic? Brilliant? Magnificent?” Fingers flexing around the silky midnight curls still grasped in her hand, Dany laughed too. Her starving lungs just refused to hold air. 

Arms dropping to frame her waist, he tucked the woman he was head over heels, so very madly enamoured with securely to him. “Hands down, all of the above.” 

The night could not have been more perfect.