#Learn the rules so you can break them I guess

[thewertsearch]

CG: WHAT HAPPENED TO THE FROG BREEDING, I THOUGHT WE WERE ON A ROLL WITH THAT GG: yes, we still are! GG: this little detour was related to that task. we should be nearly done.

Echidna is located on the frog planet, so I guess it would make sense if she offered Choices that related to frog breeding. Maybe she needs to 'approve' the nascent universe, just like she did the Scratch.

CG: WHAT WAS SHE EVEN SAYING TO YOU, I CAN'T UNDERSTAND A WORD OF THAT HORRIFYING GIBBERISH. GG: i can understand her just fine!

It’s reasonable to assume that only the Denizen’s designated Player can understand their speech.

That would probably prevent any Player from completing a Quest that wasn’t assigned to them, which was one of my suggestions for ways to ‘break Sburb’, a million billion years ago.

CG: I STILL DON'T REALLY GET IT. CG: WHY MY DENIZEN WAS SUCH A NIGHTMARE WHILE YOURS APPARENTLY GIVES YOU GUTTURAL PEP TALKS IN SOME BYZANTINE MONSTER LANGUAGE. GG: we already talked about this GG: echidna and i have an understanding now ;) CG: OOH, VAGUE BULLSHIT, IT'S THE EXACT FUCKING THING I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF. GG: well maybe if you werent in such a grumpy hurry all the time you wouldnt have killed your denizen so quickly GG: you might have actually learned something!!!!!!

I'm willing to bet that Karkat shot first, aggroing his Denizen before it had even opened its mouth. Just like Eridan and his angels, the possibility that this NPC wasn't an enemy simply didn't enter Karkat's head.

...granted, the Consorts do to tell you that your Denizen needs to be slain, so the messaging is a little all over the place. Perhaps the game straight-up lies about how the Denizens work, in order to test the Players in some way.

After all, a species which shoots first and asks questions later might not have an ideal temperament to rule over a universe...

...so maybe Sgrub ensures that they can't.

GG: did you ever talk to kanaya about it? […] GG: her situation was very similar to mine

If the kids needed to activate their frog, then so did the trolls. It sounds like Kanaya, at least, had the wherewithal to listen to her Denizen before immediately popping a Fraymotif.

CG: I THOUGHT SHE KILLED HER DENIZEN TO LIGHT THE FORGE OR SOMETHING GG: it doesnt sound like you got the whole story

You seem to have overlooked the fact that Jade’s Forge is lit - and yet, Echidna was available for a second visit. Keep up, Karkat!

[shirajellyfish]

Kill your darlings? Wrong. Darling necromancy.

[voyter]

DEVOTION — jeon jungkook.

genre. a song of ice and fire au. 103 AC. smut. knight!jungkook. queen!reader.

your knight is completely devoted to you, and while it’s his duty, you can’t help but wonder if there’s something more behind his unwavering loyalty.

word count. 17.1k words (FUCK i am so sorry) warnings. this fic might be a bit confusing if you havent watched game of thrones or house of the dragon !!! misogyny. gender dynamics. seokjin and namjoon cameo hehe. forced / arranged marriage. over protective jungkook <3. cute convo between oc and her husband. violence. mentions of blood and murder. SO MUCH FUCKING TENSION. smut. two sex scenes !! dry humping. oral (male!receiving). unprotected sex (this universe takes place thousands of years ago and condoms didnt exist yet give me a break). bath sex. they almost get caught OOP. cheating (but both parties are consenting and they both openly do it to each other but they dont love each other romantically so its okay i guess) ???? jungkook literally worships her oh im sick i need him.

ana's notes. this fic ended up being much longer than i anticipated but oh my gosh i literally could NOT STOP WRITING !!! this is the longest fic ive ever written hello. this is inspired by alicent and coles relationship in season 2. sorry i hate them but this trope ??? OUUU TOO GOOD. so you know i got inspired. anyways, i love this one so much, so please let me know your thoughts <3. as always, keep your comments positive or say nothing at all xx

listening to. blue jeans by lana del rey / middle of the night by elley duhé / flawless by the neighbourhood

part of the based off film series. this one shot is based off house of the dragon.

You had always hated the idea of marrying someone you didn’t love, but you knew that marriage was not a choice — it was an obligation woven into the fabric of your destiny. Though reluctance filled you at first, you gradually came to terms with your duty, accepting the role thrust upon you with a measure of peace.

House Emberwyn ruled the Seven Kingdoms, making them the most powerful house of all. Your father had forged a deep bond with King Aelyx, the two men connected by the shared grief of losing their wives. Beyond their friendship, your father was adamant that uniting your houses through marriage was crucial. He envisioned a future where the intertwining of two powerful, wealthy legacies would forge an unbreakable realm.

Atticus, the son of King Aelyx, was only a year older than you — making him a suitable match. Like you, he was reluctant to marry, but he, too, understood the importance of duty. He wanted nothing more than to make his father proud, even if it meant sacrificing personal desire.

As the sole heirs of your respective houses, the pressure to produce children was immediate. The act of intimacy with Atticus was never one of passion or love; it was merely another duty. The first time was uncomfortable, almost unbearable, but over time, you learned to tolerate it. This was your life now, dictated by duty rather than desire.

Since your marriage, you have been blessed with three children. Ares, your eldest and only son, was conceived during your bedding ceremony. Now a boy of one and ten, he is wise beyond his years, his sharp mind driven by a deep love for books and knowledge. Celeste, your first daughter, is nine years old — a whirlwind of wild, unrestrained energy that seems impossible to contain. Already, she’s been eagerly awaiting the day she can take to the skies on dragonback, her spirit far older than her years. Then there is Luna, your youngest and newest addition to the family, a radiant little soul who brings warmth and light into every corner of your life. She is the calm of the storm, a small but powerful source of joy that never fails to lift your spirits, no matter how heavy the burdens of the day.

Atticus is a good father, never neglecting his children. He is present in their lives, providing for them with steadfast love and care. As a husband, he is kind and dutiful. Yet, despite all his virtues, he is not the love of your life.

The two of you had come to an agreement early in your marriage: you were free to seek pleasure where you wished, as long as heirs were made with each other. It was a compromise, one that allowed you both to navigate the confines of your duty while maintaining some semblance of personal freedom.

Tragedy struck shortly after Celeste’s birth when King Aelyx succumbed to an unknown illness. The crown passed to Atticus, and with it came the immense burden of ruling the Seven Kingdoms.

With Atticus as king, you became Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, unlike your husband, you did not feel the same pressure. Your days were mostly spent within the confines of your chambers, where the laughter and antics of your children filled your life with light and purpose. Despite never having known your own mother — she had died giving birth to you — you felt as though motherhood had always been your calling.

While you wouldn’t trade your life for anything in the world, motherhood came with its challenges. Ares and Celeste were at the age where they bickered endlessly over the smallest of things — whether it was toys, attention, or simply to see who could get on your nerves first. Their constant squabbles were a source of frustration, and yet you knew it was a phase they would eventually outgrow. Luna, on the other hand, still so small and newly born, could not seem to stop crying. Her wails often filled the castle, and while the maids were always close by, ready to assist, you never allowed them to. You wanted your daughter to find comfort in your arms, not anyone else’s.

There were days when calming her down felt like a losing battle, the hours stretching into what felt like an eternity. But when you finally succeeded, when her cries quieted and her tiny form melted into sleep, it filled you with a sense of accomplishment. It was a small victory in a life full of larger, weightier battles.

Fortunately, today was one of the easier days. Luna wasn’t feeling particularly fussy, and after a few gentle rocks and soft pats on her back, she fell asleep in your arms without much protest. Relief washed over you as you gazed down at her peaceful face, her tiny chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The soft warmth of her against you, the quiet of the room, made you feel like, for a moment, everything was right.

“Your Grace?”

A voice interrupted your quiet reverie, but you didn’t turn. Your eyes remained fixed on Luna, unwilling to break the fragile serenity of the moment. You hummed in response, acknowledging the speaker but unable to tear your gaze from your sleeping daughter.

“Your presence is wanted, though not required, Your Grace.”

The words draw you from your thoughts, and with a soft sigh, you finally turn to face the speaker. It’s the Lord Commander, standing tall and imposing, his armor catching the dim light filtering through the windows.

“What for?” you ask, your voice calm but laced with curiosity.

“The Kingsguard posting,” he replies, his tone formal, as always. “It’s been suggested that you select who will guard the Red Keep.”

You consider his words, your gaze drifting back to Luna, still fast asleep in your arms. The thought of placing your trust in someone else, of relying on others to protect what matters most, brings a weight to your chest. As a mother, your first instinct is always to shield your children. You would want nothing more than for them to roam the castle freely, knowing they were surrounded by those you trusted — those you handpicked.

“I suppose,” you murmur.

After carefully setting Luna in her crib, you linger for a moment, brushing a tender hand over her soft cheek. Ensuring the maids were nearby to watch over her, you quietly slip from the nursery and follow the Lord Commander through the castle's stone corridors. Your thoughts remain on Luna for a heartbeat longer before shifting to the matter at hand — choosing the knights who would guard your family, your children.

You arrive at the balcony overlooking the courtyard, where a line of knights stands at attention, their armor gleaming in the afternoon sun. The air is crisp, the tension palpable as each knight awaits his turn to be presented.

The Lord Commander steps forward, his voice ringing with authority. "Step forward, Ser Kim Namjoon."

The knight moves with a quiet confidence, offering you a small, almost shy smile. Dimples crease his cheeks, and despite the serious nature of the proceedings, you find yourself smiling back, charmed by the warmth in his expression.

"Ser Namjoon has proved strong and steady in both the tourney lists and in service beyond," the Lord Commander begins. "While traveling through the Kingswood on the way to King’s Landing, Ser Namjoon recently brought a would-be poacher to justice."

You listen carefully, considering the man before you. His loyalty and steadiness are clear, and his recent actions speak of a knight who serves with honor. Still, your mind drifts to a darker, more urgent thought — combat. The Red Keep, and more importantly, your children, needed knights who were not only honorable but battle hardened. In these uncertain times, loyalty alone would not be enough. 

"Ser Namjoon," you say, your voice polite yet measured. "We thank you for your loyal service to the Crown."

He bows deeply before stepping back into line, and you offer him a nod in return, though your thoughts continue to circle around the same question — how many of these knights had seen true combat?

The next knight steps forward, and your gaze narrows as you take him in.

"Ser Kim Seokjin," the Lord Commander announces.

This knight is taller, leaner than Namjoon. He holds himself with a quiet grace, his expression serious, but there's a spark of something beneath the surface — determination perhaps, or ambition.

"Winner of the melee at Cider Hall," the Lord Commander continues. "He was the last mounted of three and twenty knights. Ser Seokjin was knighted at eight and ten."

You raise an eyebrow, impressed by his accomplishments. Yet, your thoughts linger on something more pressing, more crucial to the protection of your family.

"Do any of these knights have combat experience?" you ask, your tone sharper now. "Beyond capturing poachers and winning tourneys?"

The Lord Commander nods solemnly, signaling the next candidate.

“Ser Jeon Jungkook.”

As the name is called, a young knight steps forward, noticeably younger than the others who had come before him. Yet, despite his youth, he carries himself with an air of quiet confidence, his steps measured and purposeful. Strands of raven hair fall loosely across his forehead, framing a face that, while youthful, is sharp with focus. His dark eyes meet yours with a steady gaze, neither too bold nor deferent — he stands unshaken by the weight of the moment.

He looks about your age, perhaps even younger, and though he lacks the grizzled scars of a seasoned warrior, something about him immediately draws your attention. There's a natural grace in the way he moves, his armor fitting him perfectly as if he was born to wear it. He’s quite handsome, a fact you can’t help but notice as he stands before you, the light of the setting sun casting a faint glow over his features.

"Tell me, Ser Jungkook," you say, breaking the silence, "have you seen real combat?"

He doesn’t falter, his voice steady as he speaks. "I have, Your Grace. I fought for a year as a foot soldier against the Dornish incursions. I was knighted after we razed two of the watchtowers along the Boneway.”

There is no hesitation in his tone, no embellishment. The quiet intensity of his words, the weight of lived experience behind them, strikes you deeply. His demeanor isn't that of a man seeking glory but of one who has already faced the fire and come out stronger for it. In that moment, your decision feels clear.

“It’s settled.” Your lips curve into a smile, one of certainty and satisfaction. “I choose Ser Jungkook.”

The Lord Commander stiffens slightly, his jaw tensing as though weighing whether to speak. Before you can take a step back toward your chambers, his voice interrupts, filled with respectful hesitation. "Perhaps we shouldn’t be too hasty, Your Grace. There is no doubt Ser Jungkook is a fine warrior, but Ser Namjoon and Ser Seokjin are from houses that are important allies of the Crown."

You turn slowly, your expression cool but firm. The politicking of the court — alliances, the endless exchange of favors and titles — was something you understood all too well. Yet, this was not a matter of alliances. This was the safety of your family, the future of your children. And no amount of courtly maneuvering could change that.

“Those men are tourney knights,” you say, your voice laced with a sharp edge. “My children should be defended by a man who’s known real combat. Should they not?”

The Lord Commander pauses, his gaze flickering between the knights and your unwavering stance. He gives a short bow, conceding. “Of course, Your Grace.”

You nod once, satisfied. “Very well, then,” you say, a smile returning to your face, though this time with a sense of finality. “I expect you to plan Ser Jungkook’s investiture.”

There’s a flicker of something in the Lord Commander’s eyes — perhaps begrudging respect or recognition of your authority in this matter. He bows once more before stepping aside. “As you wish, Your Grace. I will see to it.”

As the days passed, it became clear that your decision to appoint Ser Jungkook was more than justified.

Jungkook proved himself an unwavering presence in the lives of your children. He guarded Ares and Celeste like a loyal hound, always at their side, his dark eyes constantly scanning their surroundings for any sign of danger. Wherever they went — whether it was the training yard where Ares spent hours practicing swordplay or the garden where Celeste attempted to name every flower — Jungkook followed, his sight never leaving them.

In the corridors of the Red Keep, you would often catch glimpses of him, stationed at the door to whatever chamber Ares and Celeste had wandered into, standing with that same quiet intensity that first caught your attention. He never intruded upon their activities, never interfered with their games, but his presence was felt all the same. He was a silent sentinel, ensuring that no one entered or exited a room without his knowledge.

Even the servants and court members began to take note, offering respectful nods as they passed him. There was a certain respect that began to build around Jungkook, not just as a knight, but as a protector of the royal family — of your family.

Before Ser Jungkook’s arrival, the Red Keep had always felt secure. Its towering walls and seasoned guards provided a fortress of safety, a place where danger rarely crossed your mind. Yet, somehow, with Jungkook’s arrival, there was a new, tangible sense of protection. His presence, quiet yet vigilant, added an extra layer of assurance, as if the very air had shifted, growing thicker with safety, steadier with his watchful eye. He didn’t need to speak or make grand gestures; just knowing he was there, standing mere feet away from you, made the castle feel more fortified than it ever had before.

In many ways, he made you feel like that too — protected, even in the smallest, unspoken ways.

The Small Council was always the most grueling part of your day. Despite your title as Queen, you found yourself constantly sidelined, your voice often drowned out by the men who dominated the discussions. You had grown accustomed to their subtle condescension — the way they’d nod and pretend to listen, only to carry on as if your words had never been spoken. You’d learned to expect it, but the sting of dismissal never faded entirely.

And today was no different.

As you took your seat, Jungkook stood nearby, ever the silent sentinel. He’d grown adept at reading you, his dark eyes keenly observing the smallest shift in your demeanor. He noticed how, at first, you entered the room with a composed grace, ready to engage in the matters at hand. But as the meeting dragged on, frustration began to creep in, visible in the slight tightening of your jaw each time a man at the table spoke over you or dismissed your suggestions with a polite but infuriating nod.

Jungkook’s eyes followed the subtle changes — the way your posture stiffened, the soft sigh you tried to suppress, and then, finally, the way boredom started to settle in as you reached for the small stone ball on the table, rolling it between your fingers absentmindedly. He knew you were doing your best to remain patient, but the disrespect weighed heavily in the room.

His hand instinctively twitched at his side, a protective instinct rising within him as he stood there watching. He was ready to intervene if the moment called for it, though he knew better than to step in unless absolutely necessary. Still, his silent support was palpable, a reassuring presence amidst the clamor of men who failed to see the strength in the woman before them.

“Perhaps we should discuss Driftmark, Your Grace,” the Maester began, his voice too casual for the gravity of the subject. He directed his attention toward your husband, but the mention of Driftmark instantly drew you in, pulling you from your growing boredom. You straightened in your seat, the defensiveness in your posture clear.

“What of it?” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, the raw emotion behind it hard to suppress. Driftmark wasn’t just a topic for idle conversation — it was family. Personal. The loss of the Lord of the Tides, your cousin’s husband, had been a blow that still lingered, and the aftermath of it weighed heavily on your heart.

He had been more than just family; he had adored your children as if they were his own, even naming your daughter, Celeste, as his heir. It was an honor, though one with its own set of complications. With Ares set to inherit the Iron Throne, Celeste was to inherit Driftmark. Your cousin, devastated by the loss of her husband and without heirs of her own, was to hold the seat in her stead until Celeste came of age.

The Maester’s eyes flickered between you and your husband, clearly aware of the tension in the room but too entrenched in his own position to approach the subject delicately. He cleared his throat, then spoke with a tone that bordered on patronizing. “It’s... a delicate matter, Your Grace. There are those who believe the succession should be reconsidered, given your daughter’s age. Furthermore, some question the wisdom of naming a girl as heir to such a powerful seat.”

Your stomach tightened, fury simmering beneath the surface. A girl. As if Celeste’s age or gender diminished her worth, her potential. You could feel the disdain, not just for your daughter, but for the very idea of a woman wielding such power.

You held the Maester’s gaze, your voice sharp with barely concealed fury. “And do you agree with them?”

The chamber seemed to freeze in that moment, the weight of your words pressing down on everyone in the room. All eyes flickered nervously between you and the Maester, the tension palpable as if even the air had thickened, making it harder to breathe. Everyone braced themselves for the confrontation that was surely coming.

The Maester, sensing the chance to finally reveal his true thoughts, straightened in his seat, his chest puffing out as arrogance replaced caution. He no longer glanced toward your husband for approval; instead, his focus was solely on you, his eyes glinting with condescension.

“A woman on the Driftwood Throne, Your Grace?” he repeated, his voice dripping with condescension. “Forgive my candor, but Driftmark is not some soft and delicate estate. It is a seat of warriors, sailors, men of the sea and battle. Its history is steeped in strength and tradition. To put a mere girl — no matter her bloodline — on that chair is folly, plain and simple. A woman’s place is in the home, tending to hearth and children, not commanding fleets or sitting in council chambers. The late Lord has a brother who would make a fine new Lord, more befitting the legacy.”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, your hands tightening into fists. “His brother has no desire for rule!” you shot back, your temper dangerously close to boiling over. “Celeste is his rightful heir. It was his wish, and it will not be questioned!”

The Maester, unfazed, continues. “Your Grace… with all due respect, your daughter is but a child. A girl of her age should be concerned with dolls and dresses, not the governance of a seat as vital as Driftmark. There are many in the realm who would argue that Driftmark deserves a stronger hand. A male heir, one capable of steering the course of the future, as tradition demands. Perhaps it is time to reconsider your decision, before it’s too late. Before the realm begins to question not only Driftmark’s future, but the Queen’s judgment as well.”

The insult hung in the air like a storm cloud, casting a heavy, suffocating tension over the room. The audacity — the sheer gall of the Maester to question not only your daughter’s right but your authority as Queen. Fury simmered beneath your composed exterior, your hand twitching as though you might lash out.

But before you could muster a response, Jungkook was already moving.

“You will watch your tongue when speaking to the Queen, Maester,” Jungkook’s voice was a low, dangerous rumble, carrying the unmistakable weight of a threat. His usually calm demeanor was gone, replaced by something far more menacing. “Or it shall be taken from you.”

The room seemed to shrink around the Maester, all eyes now on him as the color drained from his face. His earlier arrogance dissolved in an instant, replaced with wide-eyed panic. The man who had dared to question your daughter’s birthright now looked as though he might faint from fear.

“I- I meant no offense, Ser Jungkook,” the Maester stammered, his words tumbling over themselves in a desperate attempt to backpedal. His gaze flickered nervously from you to Jungkook, searching for some kind of escape.

“You did,” Jungkook cut him off sharply, his tone like the edge of a blade. His gaze bore into the Maester, unyielding, unwavering. “And I will remind you once more: mind your tongue.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the threat hanging in the air like a blade, and no one doubted that Jungkook would make good on his promise if pushed further.

You turned your gaze to Jungkook, barely concealing your silent shock. The man who stood just feet away, usually so quiet and composed, always speaking only when spoken to, had stepped in to defend you — boldly, without hesitation. The gesture was unexpected, and for a moment, you were struck by the kindness and protectiveness it held.

It was not just the words he had spoken, but the intensity behind them, the clear signal that he would tolerate no disrespect toward you. In a room full of lords and courtiers who often dismissed your voice, Jungkook’s sudden defense felt like a rare and precious show of loyalty. Uncommon as it was, it left a warmth spreading in your chest, a silent but deeply felt appreciation.

Jungkook still hadn’t met your eyes, his intense gaze fixed on the Maester, the disapproval and disgust etched in his expression radiating an aura so fierce, it was almost frightening. He stood there like a wall of steel, silently daring anyone to challenge him again.

You turned your attention back to the Maester, who now squirmed under the weight of the moment. His once confident, condescending exterior had crumbled, now sitting timidly in his seat.

“Celeste is the rightful heir,” you stated, your voice even and composed, though laced with quiet authority. “She will rule Driftmark, and she will do so just as well as any man ever could. Anyone who questions that,” you paused, allowing the weight of your words to settle over the room, “will regret it.”

The Maester lowered his head, unable to meet your gaze, his earlier arrogance completely shattered. “Of course, Your Grace. Please, forgive my words.”

Jungkook didn’t move an inch, his focus still locked onto the Maester like a hawk waiting for the slightest wrong move. The room felt smaller, the tension almost suffocating as the Maester’s earlier confidence reduced to a pitiful murmur.

“See that you don’t forget that again,” you said, your tone final and cold, leaving no room for further argument.

With that, you stood up from your seat, the weight of the moment still hanging heavy in the air. Without another word, you turned on your heel and made your way out of the courtroom, every step deliberate, your posture unyielding. The entire room seemed to hold its breath as you moved, a quiet power radiating from you that demanded respect.

Jungkook, as ever, was by your side in an instant, but he kept a respectful distance, just enough to remain a silent protector, his presence still like a shield around you. His footsteps were measured, the sound of his boots echoing softly in the corridors, and yet there was an undeniable sense of security in the space between you two. No words were exchanged as you made your way to your chamber — there was no need for them. His silent solidarity was all you required.

Jungkook’s presence was reassuring, like the calm after a storm, and it made the weight of leadership — of being Queen — just a little easier to bear.

After the heat of earlier’s events, the last thing you wanted was to step foot back into the chaos of the court. The weight of the Maester’s words still lingered in the air, and you felt the need to retreat, to recharge in the only place that felt truly like yours. So, you didn’t leave your chambers for the rest of the day. You took the rare opportunity to unwind, the need for solitude outweighing any further obligations for the day.

Without a second thought, you changed into your nightgown well before the moon rose, the soft fabric a welcome contrast to the tense weight of your court attire. You moved with practiced ease, the familiar ritual of shedding the day’s responsibilities easing the knots in your shoulders. 

The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting a warm glow that danced across the room. You sank into the couch, the cushions molding to your body as you settled in front of the flames. With a book in hand, you opened the pages, the words inviting you into another world — a world where you could forget, if only for a moment, the burdens of being Queen.

You lost yourself in the story, the flicker of the fire keeping time with the rhythm of your reading. Outside your window, the castle was quiet, the usual noise of the corridors muted by the sanctuary of your chamber. For the first time that day, you felt a sense of peace. The world outside could wait. Here, in the comfort of your own space, you could simply be.

But just as the fire’s soft, flickering glow began to lull you deeper into peace, a knock at the door broke the fragile silence, its sound sharp and intrusive. A flicker of annoyance stirred within you — someone daring to interrupt the quiet sanctuary of your evening. But then, a familiar voice, calm and steady, followed.

“Your Grace?”

It’s him.

You took a slow breath, the irritation melting away at the sound of his voice, and called softly, “Come in, Ser Jungkook.”

The door creaked open, but Jungkook didn’t immediately step inside. He stood just beyond the threshold, his tall frame framed by the dim light spilling from the hall, casting long shadows across the stone floor. There was something endearing in the way he paused there, as though uncertain, hesitating to cross the boundary of your private space without your explicit permission. His respect for the sanctity of your chambers was something rare, a simple act that made him stand out even more.

“My apologies, Your Grace,” he said, his voice smooth and steady, like the evening air itself. “I’ve just come to alert you that the children are abed.”

A soft smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

What you didn’t know was that the children had been in bed for some time. Jungkook had only alerted you now because he was standing just outside your door, hesitating. He wasn’t sure if he should disturb your peace with the news. Still new to this role, he was uncertain of how to balance his duties with the delicate art of discretion.

“Thank you, Ser Jungkook,” you said, your tone warm with gratitude. “I would appreciate it if you informed me every night from now on.”

“Of course, Your Grace. Sleep well.” Jungkook gave a respectful nod, his voice as steady and sincere as ever, and he turned to leave.

“Ser Jungkook,” you called again, before he could close the door behind him.

He paused, hand resting lightly on the doorframe, his dark eyes meeting yours in the soft, flickering firelight. For a brief moment, the noise of the castle seemed to fall away, the crackling fire the only sound that filled the space between you. It was rare, these moments of true stillness, where it was just the two of you, no interruptions, no duties weighing on either of your shoulders. The warmth from the fire cast a soft glow over him, accentuating the quiet strength in his features.

For the first time, you found yourself truly looking at him — not just the protector of your children, not just the present knight, but Jungkook. 

“I’ve yet to thank you for earlier — in the Small Council chamber,” you said softly, your voice quiet but earnest. “I appreciate your defense. Thank you.”

The words hung between you for a moment, carrying a weight that felt heavier than it should. It wasn’t just the defense itself, though that was significant; it was the quiet way he had stood up for you. Jungkook had always been the silent one, always just there, standing in the background. But today, he had been more. He had spoken when no one else had. His simple act of defending you meant more than you could say.

Jungkook’s posture softened at your words, though his expression remained composed, his usual stoic demeanor intact. Yet, as he held your gaze, his dark eyes seemed to linger a moment longer than usual, a subtle warmth settling in his look that wasn’t often there. It was as though the space between you both had shifted, the heavy tension of the day dissolving into something quieter, almost comforting.

“It was nothing, Your Grace. You need not thank me,” he replied, his voice low and measured, though there was something beneath it — something genuine, almost vulnerable, that made the words feel different from his usual calm, detached responses. His eyes remained steady on yours, and for a moment, the usual distance between you seemed to shrink, as though he was offering something unspoken, something more than just a knight’s duty. “You shouldn’t have to endure that kind of disrespect. It’s my duty to protect you, in all ways.”

You gave a soft nod, absorbing the weight of his words. Jungkook was a constant in your life — a silent guardian who stood watch over both your children and yourself. But hearing him speak of protecting you in such a way, so plainly and honestly, stirred something within you. It wasn’t just your children that mattered to him; it was you, as well. 

“You do more than protect,” you said, your voice softer now, the weariness of the day gradually easing. “Your actions today… they meant more than you know.”

Jungkook’s lips twitched at the corners, acknowledging your words, but he didn’t respond right away. There was a brief silence between you both, the fire’s crackling embers filling the stillness as he shifted his weight, his stance still as rigid as ever, but now, a slight tension in his shoulders had eased.

“If there’s ever anything you need, Your Grace,” he said finally, his tone softer than it had been moments before, but with an underlying firmness that conveyed his commitment, “I am here.”

The sincerity in his voice wrapped around you like a quiet promise, steady and unwavering. The light of the fire caught on his features, casting soft shadows over his face, making his usually guarded expression seem less distant, more human. You felt a sense of peace settling into the space between you both, a momentary connection that felt more genuine than anything that had passed between you in the public eye.

“Thank you,” you replied softly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips, finding comfort in the rare, honest exchange.

Jungkook inclined his head once more, his expression softening in a way that was unusual for him — a small, but genuine smile curling his lips, the warmth of it making him seem more approachable, more... real.

“Goodnight, Your Grace,” he said quietly, voice full of respect, but also something else — something deeper.

“Goodnight, Ser Jungkook,” you murmured in return.

With that, he turned and moved to close the door behind him, the soft click of the latch signaling his departure. But as the door clicked shut, you realized that this time, you didn’t feel the usual solitude. There was something different. Something comforting. Something exciting that made the pit of your stomach feel funny, in knowing he was standing just outside your door.

Just the barrier of wood between you two.

The next day unfolded much more peacefully than the last. 

You sat on the floor of your chamber, the luxurious fabric of your gown pooling around you like a soft sea of silk. The quiet of the room was comforting as you focused on the delicate task in front of you — embroidering a blanket for Luna. Each stitch was a calming motion, your mind momentarily free of the weight of royal duties. 

You hadn’t seen Jungkook yet, but his presence lingered in your thoughts, like an unspoken promise. The anticipation of his arrival stirred a quiet excitement within you, though you had no idea when he might appear. 

The silence was broken by your husband's voice, cutting through the peaceful air as he entered without knocking, his tone casual. “How are you feeling today?”

You glanced up briefly, meeting his eyes before returning to your work. “Better,” you answered, the edges of your lips curving into a faint smile.

“Good,” Atticus replied, smirking as he made his way over to the table and poured himself a goblet of wine. “Do you think you’ll be attending the Small Council today?”

You hesitated, the thought of sitting through another long, tedious session filling you with a quiet reluctance. “No… if that’s alright?” you replied, your tone tentative, not wanting to seem too dismissive of his suggestion.

“Of course,” Atticus said, lifting the goblet to his lips. His eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief as he added, “But I’ll have you know, I’ve hired a new Maester.”

The words hit you like a spark, and without thinking, you put your needle down. The sudden shift in the conversation caught your attention fully. Your eyes locked onto him, eyebrows raised in surprise. The idea of a new Maester was unexpected — and it immediately piqued your curiosity.

"Are you upset about that?" you asked, your voice soft and laced with a hint of apology, eyes searching his face for any sign of how he truly felt.

Atticus paused, his gaze meeting yours with a quiet intensity. His lips curled into a knowing smirk, and he set the goblet down gently on the table. "I could never be upset with you for only standing up for yourself," he said, his voice steady, though there was an underlying heat to his words. "And someone as disrespectful as that will not continue to walk around in this castle."

His declaration was resolute, filled with a quiet determination. The confidence in his voice was not just from his position, but from a place of deep respect for you. It was as if he had taken the full weight of your frustration upon himself, and the fire behind his words showed that he would do whatever it took to ensure you never had to endure such treatment again. 

You smile warmly at his words. "Thank you, Atticus."

He pauses, a small smile tugging at his lips, his fingers tapping idly on the edge of the table. "You know, as much as I’m not in love with you," he says slowly, his tone more thoughtful than usual, "I still love you."

The admission hangs in the air between you, the raw honesty in his voice bringing a quiet comfort. It wasn't the passionate declaration of romance you might have hoped for, but it was the kind of love that ran deep — steady, consistent, unshakable. 

You meet his gaze, and your heart softens with understanding. "As do I," you reply, your voice gentle but genuine. 

It wasn’t the kind of love that others might expect, filled with grand gestures and whispered sweet nothings. But in its own way, it was a love that had stood the test of time. It isn’t passionate, but there’s a respect and understanding between the two of you that runs deep.

“Now,” Atticus says, his voice low, teasing. “Can we talk about your knight in shining armor?”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the smirk that tugs at your lips. “Oh Gods,” you say, the edge of amusement clear in your voice as you go back to your needlework.

“Oh, come on,” he whines, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. “I let you pick, now you have to tell me all about him!”

You raise an eyebrow, glancing up at him. “It was you who suggested I pick?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “I thought you’d feel more content choosing someone yourself.”

“I do,” you reply with a small smile, returning to your embroidery. “It was a wise suggestion.”

“Oh, don’t change the subject now!” He motions with a dramatic hand. “What was that about yesterday?”

“He was just defending me,” you say, hoping to dismiss the conversation, though you’re well aware it won’t be that easy.

Atticus lets out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes in dramatic fashion. “No knight is that devoted to duty, my dear wife.”

His words make you pause, but you try not to let it show. Still, a smile begins to creep onto your lips, unbidden. You hadn’t really allowed yourself to think about it that way. Jungkook had always been quiet, loyal, reliable — but devoted in the way Atticus is hinting? It’s a thought that stirs something unexpected in you.

“Well, believe it or not,” you say, unable to stop the small grin now, “we’ve spoken to each other only a few times.”

Atticus raises an eyebrow, leaning in slightly, clearly entertained. “Is that so? And yet, with little words between you, he’s ready to challenge a room full of lords for your honor. Fascinating.”

You roll your eyes, returning to your needlework in an attempt to focus, but your mind can’t help but drift back to Jungkook. The memory of his voice, steady and unyielding as he defended you, lingers. Maybe Atticus has a point, but admitting that would only fuel his relentless teasing.

“He’s just dutiful,” you insist, though even you can hear the uncertainty creeping into your voice. 

Atticus catches it too, and his smirk widens as he takes a slow, deliberate sip from his goblet. “Dutiful because he loves his duty? Or because of you?”

Your cheeks flush instantly, the warmth creeping up your neck as you try to brush off the insinuation. “You’re reading into this too much,” you mumble, focusing on the embroidery in your lap, though your needlework suddenly seems less interesting.

“Am I?” Atticus drawls, stepping closer, his tone playful but probing. “Did you solely choose him because of his skills?”

You glance up at him briefly, trying to suppress a smile. “Are you implying something?”

He shrugs, the smirk on his lips widening. “Well, did you?”

“I did!” you exclaim, the words tumbling out a little too quickly, as if you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him. You glance up at Atticus, catching the amused gleam in his eyes. “He’s excellent with the children, and he strikes the perfect balance around here — intimidating enough to make it clear no one should challenge him, but not so much that the children are frightened. I trust him completely, and I’ve only known him a short while.”

Atticus hums, swirling the wine in his goblet with deliberate slowness before taking a sip, his skepticism apparent in the slight arch of his brow.

You shake your head, sighing lightly. “He’s proven his worth,” you say, trying to sound firm, though the soft smile that sneaks onto your lips betrays you. “It’s his abilities that matter.”

Atticus grins, thoroughly enjoying this exchange. “Of course, his abilities. And it’s just a coincidence that the knight you trust with our children’s safety also happens to be rather… easy on the eyes?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, though the warmth spreading through your chest betrays your amusement. “His appearance has nothing to do with why I chose him,” you insist, though your tone has lost its edge, becoming playful and light. “He’s capable, loyal, and vigilant. His looks are irrelevant.”

Atticus raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening into a knowing grin. “Irrelevant, but not unnoticed?”

You shoot him a mock glare, though the smile tugging at your lips makes it hard to maintain any seriousness. “You’re impossible,” you say with a shake of your head. “I care about his skills and nothing more.”

Atticus chuckles softly, clearly entertained. “We shall see,” he teases, his voice lingering in the air as he begins to make his exit. His steps are slow, unhurried, as though he’s savoring the moment. 

He walks out with a lightness in his stride, and the faint echo of his laughter trails behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts — and the quiet, unsettling realization that maybe, just maybe, his words weren’t entirely off the mark.

Returning to the Small Council felt different this time. The atmosphere had shifted. The men were more considerate, actually taking your opinions into account — a stark contrast to their usual dismissiveness. It seemed Atticus’ harsh punishment of the last Maester had sent a clear message: disrespect would no longer be tolerated. They were treading carefully now, not wanting to find themselves in a similar predicament.

You exhaled a long breath as you walked into your chamber, ready to unwind after the tense day. Removing your jewelry, you placed each piece delicately on the table, the soft clink of metal filling the otherwise quiet room. You went to bend down to slip off your shoes, eager for the relief of the cool floor beneath your feet.

But before you could, a sharp point suddenly pressed against your neck.

You froze.

Panic surged through you as the cold blade pressed harder against your skin, the world around you narrowing to the sound of your racing heartbeat.

“Don’t scream,” a low voice hissed in your ear, breath hot against your skin, “or you will die.”

Your breath hitched, the threat sinking in, terror flooding your veins. Tears welled in your eyes as helplessness gripped you. You had never felt so vulnerable, so utterly at the mercy of another.

The man spun you around with a jerk, and your gaze landed on another figure lurking in the shadows — both were dressed in the rough, dirt stained garb of rat catchers, but their eyes gleamed with intent far darker than pest control.

“We were paid to kill the little girl,” the man growled, his eyes boring into yours with malicious purpose. “The one who is set to inherit Driftmark. Where is she?”

Your heart stopped. They wanted Celeste. Your daughter. 

Desperation clawed at your insides, but you forced yourself to remain calm, though your voice trembled as you spoke. “I have many things in here of great value,” you said, your mind racing to stall, to buy any time you could. “You can take whatever you want. Jewelry, gold…”

The man sneered, pressing the blade just a fraction closer, enough to make your skin prickle with fear. “We’re not here for trinkets,” he spat. “We’re here for the girl.”

The suffocating pressure eased as the man shoved you away, though he kept his dagger trained on you, its sharp point a constant threat.

“Lead us to her,” he snarled, “and you will live.”

Your pulse quickened, panic rising. But amid the terror, you clung to one thought: Jungkook was just outside, standing guard by the children’s room. He would protect Celeste.

Heart pounding, you forced your legs to move, stepping cautiously toward the door of your chamber. The rat catchers followed closely, one of them pressing the dagger against your back, a constant reminder of the danger lurking just inches away.

By the time you reached the door, your eyes caught a glimpse of movement. Jungkook — his back against the wood, waiting, ready. His gaze met yours, and in that brief moment, you felt a surge of relief, but it was fleeting.

Before you could react, Jungkook sprang into action. In a heartbeat, he grabbed your arm and yanked you behind him, shielding you with his body. You stumbled backward, watching in awe as he unsheathed his sword with deadly precision. 

Jungkook wasted no time. His blade sank deep into the stomach of the first rat catcher, a sickening thud echoing in the hallway. The man gasped, blood spurting from the wound, and crumpled to the floor.

The second assailant, wild with desperation, swung his dagger wildly at Jungkook. But Jungkook moved with lethal grace, dodging each strike effortlessly. His movements were swift, controlled, each step calculated. In one fluid motion, he caught the man's wrist mid swing, twisting it with a force that made the man cry out in pain. Jungkook’s grip tightened, and with a brutal efficiency, he forced the attacker to plunge the dagger into his own abdomen.

The man’s eyes widened in shock, the weapon lodged deep within him, his strength faltering. Jungkook released him, and the second rat catcher staggered before collapsing to the ground beside his companion, both of them now lying in pools of their own blood.

In shock, you stood frozen, tears welling in your eyes as the reality of the moment crashed over you. Only a minute ago, you had feared for your life, for your family’s lives. And now, Jungkook had effortlessly put an end to the rat catchers, his blade on the ground still stained with their blood. It all felt too surreal, too close.

Before you could fully process what had happened, Jungkook rushed to you, his expression softening with concern. He cupped your face gently in his hands, his touch grounding you. “Your Grace? Are you hurt?” His voice was low but urgent, his eyes scanning you for any sign of injury.

You shook your head, still unable to find your voice, too overwhelmed by everything. Your heart pounded, your throat tight as you struggled to keep yourself together.

“You’re alright now,” Jungkook whispered, his thumbs brushing tenderly across your cheeks. “Everything’s okay.”

But it wasn’t. The fear, the relief, the gratitude — they all hit you at once, overwhelming your senses. And before you knew it, your emotions spilled over. You erupted into sobs, throwing your arms around Jungkook’s neck, seeking the warmth and safety of his presence. You buried your face into his skin, your tears dripping onto his armor as you cried.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate for a second. His arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you close to him, his strength and warmth offering the comfort you so desperately needed. One of his hands rubbed soothingly up and down your back while the other cradled your head, pressing you gently against his chest. His heartbeat, steady and strong, was the only thing keeping you grounded amidst the chaos of your emotions.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he murmured into your hair, his voice soft and calming. “You’re safe now.”

And in that moment, in his arms, you believed him.

After Atticus learned about the rat catchers’ attack, his fury was swift and intense, shaking the very walls of the Red Keep. His voice thundered from the Small Council chamber, echoing through the halls as he took command of the situation. His anger wasn’t just justified — it was terrifying. No one dared stand in his way as he set out to make sure something like this could never happen again.

You sat in your children’s room, seeking comfort in their innocent presence. Even as you tried to calm your racing heart, the distant roar of Atticus’s orders only heightened the gravity of what had nearly occurred. He wasted no time doubling the guard, placing knights at every vulnerable corner of the Keep. The added protection was meant to reassure, but for you, it only underscored the severity of the danger that had almost taken your daughter.

Atticus was relentless in his pursuit of justice. He immediately dispatched his men to find out who had hired the rat catchers. It wasn’t long before the truth came out — your former Maester hadn’t been acting alone. There were more, many more, who shared his poisonous view that Celeste, your little girl, had no right to inherit Driftmark. These men, clinging to their outdated belief that only a man should rule, had conspired to end her life before she could ever sit upon the Driftwood Throne.

Those who were caught speaking against Celeste’s claim were dealt with harshly. Atticus showed no mercy. He threw them in the dungeons without a second thought, ensuring that any who dared oppose your daughter’s future would be silenced. In this, he was steadfast, and you were grateful for his fierce protection of your family.

But even with the threat supposedly contained, the fear hadn’t left you. That night still clung to you like a dark shadow, creeping into your thoughts when you least expected it. The memory of those men — of their knives and their cruel threats — replayed in your mind every night, a loop you couldn’t break free from. 

Sleep was becoming harder to find. You would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of the attack pressing down on your chest. Even with Jungkook stationed just outside your door, standing as your silent guardian, the sense of unease never fully faded. You trusted him more than anyone now, knowing he had saved you without hesitation, but your mind couldn’t silence the what ifs. What if something happened to him? What if the guards missed something? What if they came back?

Tonight was no different. The room was quiet, your children safe in their beds, but your thoughts raced. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind outside felt like a reminder of how close you had come to losing everything. You sat up in bed, pulling your knees to your chest, trying to calm the storm within. 

Jungkook was right outside the door — so close, and yet, the fear lingered. You knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to you, but that night had changed everything. The vulnerability, the terror, had been too real, and you couldn’t just forget it. Even though the Red Keep was locked down, even though Atticus had done everything in his power to keep you safe, you were haunted by the thought that danger still lurked just out of sight.

You couldn’t sleep. The quiet room, the stillness, your own thoughts circling endlessly — it was too much. You knew that tonight, like so many others, you’d be awake until the sun rose. So, with a sigh, you slipped out of bed, crossed the room, and quietly opened the door.

And there he was.

Jungkook stood just outside, his back to you, ever vigilant. When the door creaked softly, he turned, eyes meeting yours. In the faint light of the moon, his features were softened, yet his gaze was alert, concerned. The gleam in his eyes caught the moonlight, and for just a moment, the comfort of his presence made the world feel a little less daunting.

“Your Grace?” he asked, his voice low but steady. “I thought you’d be abed by now.”

“I can’t sleep,” you admitted, your voice quiet but laden with the weight of sleepless nights and endless worry.

“You’re safe now,” he said gently, his tone firm yet soothing, as if trying to will your mind to find peace. “Allow yourself to rest.”

You managed a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “You said you’d be here if I ever needed anything.”

His brows furrowed slightly as he nodded, understanding your unspoken request. “I did.”

You hesitated only briefly before speaking again, your voice softer now. “Can you come in?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and he straightened. “Your Grace, I hardly think that is appropriate,” he replied, though his tone was more uncertain than firm. His sense of duty and propriety clashed visibly with his desire to help you.

“It will comfort me,” you said, the vulnerability in your voice enough to make him falter.

He hesitated, clearly torn. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword as if it could ground him in the face of your request. His loyalty to you was absolute, but the boundaries of it were something he grappled with now.

Seeing his hesitation, you added, teasing softly, “Your Queen demands you.”

That earned you a small smile, one that softened the tension in the air. Jungkook shook his head, chuckling under his breath as he conceded. “Well, who am I to deny my Queen?” he said, stepping past the threshold.

As Jungkook entered the room, his mere presence brought with it a sense of security you hadn’t even realized you’d been yearning for. His eyes never left yours, filled with a mix of concern and quiet understanding, as you led him over to the couch by the fireplace. 

You settled yourself on one side, pulling a blanket over your legs as you crossed them beneath its warmth. When you glanced up, you noticed he hadn’t joined you yet. Instead, he stood a little distance away, unsure, his posture stiff as if still on duty.

“Sit,” you gestured to the empty space beside you.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering to the door as if he still wasn’t sure this was the right thing to do. But your gentle command was enough to sway him. With a slight nod, he moved closer, his heavy footsteps softening as he reached the couch. Just as he was about to sit, you spoke again, your voice quiet but firm.

“Take off your armor.”

He froze, eyes wide as if caught off guard by your request. “Your Grace,” he said slowly, his tone almost a warning, a reminder of the boundary he believed needed to remain in place.

But you shook your head, your expression soft but insistent. “I don’t want you here as Ser Jungkook,” you explained, your voice carrying a vulnerability you hadn’t meant to reveal. “I want you here just as Jungkook.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, clearly torn between his sense of duty and the comfort you were asking for. But then, with a slow exhale, he began to unfasten the clasps of his armor, the metallic clinks filling the otherwise quiet room. Piece by piece, the weight of it fell away, and he set it aside, each movement careful and deliberate.

Jungkook looked at you, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips as he gestured to his cloak. "If you would," he said softly, his eyes warm but with a hint of playful mischief.

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a bit lighter as you stood from the couch, the blanket slipping from your lap and pooling onto the floor. Your fingers brushed against his as you reached for the clasp of his cloak, feeling the cool metal as you carefully undid it. The fabric was thick and heavy, and as you pulled it off his shoulders, it seemed to take with it some of the invisible barrier he kept between you both.

The air between you felt different now, more intimate, as you set his cloak aside with the rest of his armor. When you turned back to face him, he was watching you closely, his expression softer than before, as if seeing you in a new light.

For a second, you just stood there, gazing at each other in the soft glow of the fire.

Now, without the weight of his armor, Jungkook looked more relaxed, his shoulders less tense, though there was still a quiet alertness in his posture. When you invited him to sit, he did so without hesitation this time, his expression softening as he settled next to you on the couch.

As the fire crackled gently beside you, casting a warm glow over the room, you found yourself seeing him differently. Here, sitting in your chambers, with the walls of duty momentarily lowered, Jungkook wasn’t just your knight anymore. He was a man — kind, steady, and unexpectedly gentle in his presence.

“I’ve not been able to sleep as of late,” you admitted, your voice quieter, more vulnerable than you intended. “But with you here... I feel safe.”

Jungkook’s smile was soft, a flicker of warmth that reached his eyes. “I’m happy to hear that,” he said, though his voice was still laced with the respectful formality he always carried. “Your Grace.”

You hesitated for a moment, then spoke your name, more firmly this time. “Use my name. The formalities can stay with your armor… Jungkook.”

The moment hung between you, quiet but significant. When he repeated your name, his voice was different, softer, almost intimate. It felt personal, as if you were the only thing that mattered in this room, in this moment.

Your heart fluttered hearing your name on his lips. The way he said it felt more intimate than you’d expected, and as the quiet settled around you both, you realized the walls between you were coming down even more.

“My mother died when I was four and ten,” Jungkook begins, his voice steady but carrying the weight of years of grief. “She was murdered right in front of me. I was weak, untrained... I couldn’t help her. I just stood there, frozen, and I couldn’t save her.” He pauses, his gaze distant, lost in the painful memory. “When I left the children’s chamber to go guard yours and I saw those rat catchers in there… I knew I couldn’t let you down like I did my mother. I couldn’t let that happen again.”

Your heart clenches and your brows knit in sorrow, completely torn by his story. His words hang heavy in the air, the realization of his past weighing on your chest. You feel both gratitude and guilt — glad that Jungkook trusts you enough to open up, yet heartbroken by the trauma he’s lived through.

It suddenly makes sense — why he’s always so guarded, so precise, so fiercely loyal. You understand now why he was trained in combat at such a young age, why he’s so vigilant, and why he holds himself to such a high standard. His devotion to you, his protection of your family, it all stems from a promise he made to himself long ago, a promise born from tragedy.

You reach out, placing a gentle hand on his arm resting on the back of the couch, your touch warm and comforting. Jungkook’s gaze flickers to where your hand rests on his arm, and then back to your face, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

“You’ve done well to uphold that promise,” you say softly, your voice filled with sincerity. As your eyes meet his, you offer him a genuine smile, hoping it conveys the compassion you feel. “Your mother would love the man you’ve grown to be, Jungkook.”

For a brief moment, Jungkook’s eyes soften, his usual stoic expression breaking. He looks almost vulnerable, as if the weight he carries is shared, if only for a second.

“Thank you,” he says softly, his voice low and sincere. “I find myself very… protective over you.”

You tilt your head slightly, a teasing smile curling at the corners of your lips. The soft glow of the fire casts a warm light over your face, and your eyes seem to shimmer with curiosity. “Why is that?” you ask, a playful lilt to your tone as you watch him.

Jungkook hesitates for a beat, his dark eyes holding yours. He slowly pulls his arm away, the loss of contact leaving your skin colder than you expected. But before you can fully miss the warmth, you feel the feather light touch of his fingertips brushing down your arm. His touch is slow, deliberate, sending a tingling sensation across your skin, awakening something inside you.

Your breath catches as his fingers trail lower, the gentle path they take igniting a flutter in your chest. When his hand finally finds yours, his touch is warm and firm, his fingers lacing with yours like it was meant to be all along.

Jungkook looks down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing tenderly over the back of your hand as if testing the waters. “It’s more than duty now,” he murmurs, his voice soft but filled with something deeper. He looks up, his eyes meeting yours, and you can see the vulnerability there, something raw and unguarded. “I can’t explain it fully, but… it’s like you’ve become more than just someone I’m sworn to protect.”

His gaze lingers on your face, searching for a reaction, and you feel a mix of emotions swirling within you — curiosity, anticipation, and something that feels dangerously close to longing.

Your lips part slightly, your heart hammering in your chest as the room feels smaller, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. “More than duty?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jungkook’s fingers tighten just a little around yours, grounding you in the moment. His eyes soften, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yes… much more than duty,” he says, his voice tender yet filled with a quiet intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

The fire crackles softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls, but all you can focus on is him — on the warmth of his hand, the depth in his gaze, and the way the space between you seems to shrink with each passing second.

With his fingers still interlaced with yours, Jungkook gently pulls you closer. The sudden shift brings you nearer to him, and you let out a soft giggle, feeling your cheeks heat up as you blush under his gaze. The warmth of his body, the way his eyes are fixed on you — it sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.

As the distance between you vanishes, your breath catches when you realize his gaze is locked on your lips. It’s intense, and it makes your heart race. You watch, spellbound, as he lifts his other hand slowly. His thumb brushes tenderly across your bottom lip, the pad of his finger soft against your skin. The simple, teasing touch sends a wave of warmth washing over you.

He lingers there for a moment, rubbing your lip, and then his thumb presses just a little more insistently, grazing the slit of your mouth as though silently asking for permission. The unspoken question in his eyes makes your pulse quicken, and you instinctively part your lips in response. His thumb slips inside, and you close your mouth gently around it, letting him in.

Your eyes remain on him as his thumb rests against your tongue, the sensation both intimate and electrifying. The fire crackles in the background, but the world feels muted, like it’s just you and him in this moment. Your heart pounds, and the connection between you grows stronger as you suck lightly on his digit.

Jungkook’s breathing becomes slightly uneven as he watches you, his eyes darkening with something deeper, more primal. He gently withdraws his thumb, his fingers now tracing the curve of your jaw, his touch both firm and tender. His hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

The air between you is thick with anticipation, the moment heavy with the promise of what’s to come. His forehead rests against yours, and for a heartbeat, time seems to stop.

“We should stop before things go further,” Jungkook whispers, his voice low and husky, the warmth of his breath tickling your lips as he gives you the chance to pull away.

You pause, your heart racing in your chest. “We should,” you whisper back, the words lingering in the air between you both.

But neither of you move.

Instead, your gaze remains locked on his, and you can feel the heat radiating between you, the unspoken desire that lingers in the small space that still separates you.

And just like that, his lips are on yours.

The kiss is electric, his lips soft yet insistent as they press against yours. It’s slow at first, a tentative exploration, but the moment your mouths meet, everything else fades into the background.

As your lips remain locked with his, you straddle his lap, the movement seamless and natural, as if you’ve both been leading up to this moment for far too long. Your hands slide behind his head, fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair, tugging lightly as the kiss grows more heated, more desperate.

Jungkook’s hands find your waist, gripping you firmly, and the sensation sends a shiver down your spine. You feel his muscles tense beneath your fingertips as you press yourself against him, your hips moving instinctively. A soft gasp escapes your lips when you feel the hardness beneath you, his cock straining against the fabric of his breeches, the friction making you yearn for more.

Your hips begin to buck slowly, grinding against him as you search for more contact, more release. The heat between you two is palpable now, your breath mingling with his as the kiss deepens, tongues tangling in a rhythm that matches the slow, steady roll of your hips. Every shift of your body sends a wave of pleasure through you, and you can feel his grip tighten on your waist, his breathing growing heavier.

Jungkook lets out a low groan against your lips, the sound vibrating through you, igniting something primal. You can feel the restraint he’s holding onto, the tension in his body as he struggles to keep control, but the way his hands grip your waist tells you he’s just as lost in the moment as you are.

The friction between you both builds, the heat intensifying, but the layers of fabric between you only heighten the desire, making you ache for more.

“Perhaps I should thank you,” you whisper against his lips, your breath hot and teasing as your hips roll against him, causing a deep groan to escape from Jungkook’s throat. You can feel him hardening beneath you, his body responding despite his attempts to maintain composure. “For your service…”

His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your sides just enough to make you feel how much he’s holding back. “It is only my mere duty,” he says, voice strained, each word laced with barely controlled desire.

You smile at his restraint, your lips moving to brush against the sharp line of his jaw. “You’ve done so much,” you murmur, your lips trailing lower, leaving a warm path down his neck, just beneath his jaw. His skin is soft and warm, and his pulse races beneath your touch. You hear his breath catch as you kiss along his collarbone, each word punctuated by a slow, deliberate press of your lips. “For me…” You move lower, your kisses more intentional, feeling his chest rise and fall more rapidly under your touch. “For my children…”

His hands twitch on your hips, torn between pulling you closer and letting you continue your slow, torturous descent. When you glance up at him, you see the way his dark eyes watch your every movement, clouded with need, a silent plea for more even as he struggles to keep himself grounded.

"I think you deserve a reward," you whisper, your voice sultry, teasing as your lips hover just above the edge of his tunic. Your fingers slowly, deliberately trace the hem, brushing against his heated skin as you make him wait, drawing out the anticipation.

Jungkook's head falls back, his lips parted as he releases a shaky breath, his control slipping with every passing second. His voice is a low growl, thick with longing. “You owe me nothing,”

You shake your head softly, your lips grazing the exposed skin of his chest. “I owe you everything,” you whisper back, your voice filled with sincerity and seduction, the intensity of the moment building as your hand moves lower, testing the boundaries of his restraint.

His body tenses beneath your touch, but his hands stay firm on your hips, holding you against him as if he’s afraid to let go. His eyes meet yours again, dark and full of raw emotion, his voice hushed, almost reverent. “I am yours,” he breathes, and in that moment, you know that he means every word.

With a soft smile playing on your lips, you slowly lift yourself off his lap, feeling the tension in the air as you lower yourself to the ground, kneeling between his legs. Jungkook watches you closely, his breathing uneven, eyes darkened with a mix of anticipation and restraint.

You place your hands gently on his thighs, feeling the heat radiating through the fabric of his breeches, his muscles tense beneath your touch. You start slow, allowing the moment to settle between you, your fingers tracing soft, deliberate circles along his thighs, teasing without rushing. Jungkook’s breath hitches slightly, his gaze locked on your every movement, as if entranced by the sight of you at his feet.

With a deliberate slowness, you begin to untie the laces of his breeches, savoring the quiet rustling of fabric as you pull them off completely, your fingertips brushing against his skin, making him shiver. You take your time, your eyes never leaving his, a playful gleam in your gaze as you watch his resolve crumble little by little.

His cock springs free, finally released from its tight confines. Jungkook lets out a low groan, the sudden release of tension sending a wave of relief through him. The sight of him, hard and ready, makes your breath catch, but you don’t rush. Instead, you rest your hands on his thighs again, grounding yourself in the warmth of his skin, feeling the subtle flex of his muscles beneath your palms.

You glance up at him, and the intensity in his gaze sends a thrill down your spine. His lips are parted, his breath heavy, and you can see the restraint in the way he grips the couch, knuckles white, fighting the urge to take control.

You spit into your hand before wrapping it around his cock, feeling its warmth and weight resting in your palm. You start slow, allowing him to adjust to the sensation, your fingers curling around him with a firm but careful grip. As your hand begins to move, sliding up and down in deliberate, teasing strokes, Jungkook's head falls back against the couch. A low, breathy moan escapes his parted lips, his chest rising and falling more heavily with each breath, betraying his struggle to hold onto his composure under your touch. His muscles tense, eyes fluttering shut, as the pleasure builds with each movement.

His reaction fuels you, and you keep your pace slow and sensual, your hand gliding smoothly along his length. Each movement draws another sound from him — whether it’s a quiet sigh, a deep groan, or the way his breathing catches for a split second. The power you hold in this moment, the way his body responds to your touch, makes the air between you feel electric, alive with tension.

Jungkook’s fingers dig into the cushions beside him, as if holding on for control, but you can see the way his restraint is unraveling, bit by bit. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his lips parted in silent bliss, eyes closed as he surrenders to the sensation.

With a mischievous smile, you tighten your grip just a little, adding the slightest bit more pressure as you continue to stroke him, and his moan deepens, sending a shiver through you.

You lean in, teasingly slow, letting the anticipation build. Jungkook’s breath hitches as he watches you, his chest rising and falling faster, his hands tightening into fists. The moment your tongue makes contact with the tip of his cock, his body tenses. You start with soft, delicate kitten licks, testing his sensitivity, letting him feel every light flick of your tongue as you work.

A bead of precum gathers at the tip, and you lap it up, the salty taste lingering on your tongue. Jungkook’s groan is deep, almost guttural, his head tipping back against the couch once more as you tease him with your soft licks, never giving him more than just a taste of what’s to come.

The way he reacts, the way his body trembles under your touch, only spurs you on. You take your time, savoring the control you have over him, feeling the way his thighs tense beneath your hands.

You glance up at him through your lashes, enjoying the sight of Jungkook completely lost in the moment, his lips parted, breath heavy. His reaction fuels your desire to tease him more. Your tongue moves slowly, deliberately, swirling around his sensitive tip, while your hand continues its steady rhythm, pumping him with just enough pressure to keep him on edge.

He moans again, low and deep, his hips instinctively bucking up, searching for more of that friction you’re so teasingly withholding. You hum softly, the vibrations making his cock twitch against your tongue. You take him a little deeper, wrapping your lips around the head, sucking gently as you let your hand pump the base, building the tension.

Jungkook’s hands grip the couch tightly, fighting to stay still, his body betraying him with every small thrust of his hips. You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you suck, your tongue working against the underside of his shaft as you slide him further into your mouth. His response is immediate — his body jerks, a strangled groan escapes him, and you feel his hands twitch as if he’s fighting the urge to reach out and grab you.

You reach up and intertwine your fingers with his, and in that simple gesture, a new layer of intimacy blooms between you. His grip is firm, almost desperate, as if holding your hand is the one thing grounding him in the intensity of the moment. It's no longer just about desire; it's something deeper, more vulnerable, a connection that transcends the physical. His thumb gently brushes over your knuckles, a soft, tender contrast to the raw passion swirling around you. That small touch, full of unspoken emotion, speaks louder than words ever could, reminding you both that this is more than just a fleeting moment — it’s a quiet, shared promise.

Jungkook’s breathing becomes even more ragged as you continue to take him deeper, your lips and tongue working in perfect harmony to push him closer to the edge. You can feel his restraint, the way he’s holding back, trying to stay in control despite the pleasure coursing through him.

He groans, your name slipping from his lips in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. You hum softly in response, the vibrations causing another moan to escape his lips. The combination of his hand in yours, his soft gasps, and the warmth of his skin beneath your touch creates an almost overwhelming sense of connection.

You pull off him with a soft, wet pop, leaving his cock glistening in the firelight. Your lips curve into a teasing smile as you drag your tongue slowly along the length of his shaft, watching his reaction. Jungkook’s breath catches, his body tensing with anticipation. When you reach his base, you let your tongue dip lower, tracing a path to his balls. You take your time, licking and teasing the sensitive skin before gently sucking them into your mouth.

The reaction is immediate — his hips jerk up involuntarily, a deep moan escaping him as his head falls back against the couch. His knuckles are white as he grips the cushions, and his fingers tighten around yours, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the moment. You keep your eyes on him, enjoying the way his face contorts with pleasure, his lips parting with a shuddering breath.

“Fuck,” he groans, voice rough and strained, the sound vibrating through the air, sending a thrill through you. His chest rises and falls heavily as you continue to pump his cock in your hand, your strokes slow and deliberate, matching the rhythm of your mouth as you suck gently on his balls.

You can feel the tension building in him, his body trembling slightly under your touch. His muscles are taut, straining as he tries to hold himself back, but you know he’s close. The soft, breathless curses he murmurs between groans let you know just how much you're driving him to the edge.

Jungkook’s mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, each one more intoxicating than the last. The feel of your mouth wrapped around his cock is overwhelming, your lips warm and slick as they glide over him, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. But what makes his pulse race even more is the sight of you — the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms — on your knees before him, your eyes dark with desire, lips wet and swollen as you take him deeper.

He can barely process it. A part of him feels like he’s lost in a dream, but the grip of your hand on his thigh, the soft, wet sounds filling the air, and the heat of your mouth around him all ground him in reality. His fingers tighten around yours, the intimacy of your entwined hands a stark contrast to the lust coursing through him.

He can’t stop thinking about how utterly beautiful you look, your regal composure gone, replaced by raw want. It’s sinful, how he can feel his cock throbbing in your mouth while your crown sits not too far away, a reminder of who you are — his Queen. And yet, here you are, on your knees, giving yourself to him so completely.

And then there’s the thought of what comes next. His cock twitches at the idea of getting you beneath him, of spreading your legs wide and burying himself in your warmth. He’s desperate to feel you around him, to watch your face twist with pleasure as he takes you, over and over again.

But even with all those thoughts swirling in his mind, one thing keeps echoing louder than the rest: the sheer power of this moment. The Queen, on her knees, sucking his cock like she’s wanted this as much as he has.

The thought sends another wave of heat through his body. He’s barely holding on, every moan, every stroke of your tongue pushing him closer to the edge. His breaths come faster, more ragged, his hips beginning to move on their own, thrusting gently into your mouth. 

Before Jungkook can take control, you pull back, rising from the ground and denying him the release he craves with a teasing smile. His frustrated groan fuels your confidence as you straddle him again, your knees resting on either side of his hips. Your fingers intertwine with his, and you guide both of his hands behind his head, locking your arms around his neck. His arms cross behind him, muscles flexing as he fights to keep himself in check.

The intensity in his eyes is undeniable — burning with desire, frustration, and the raw need to touch you, yet restrained by the control you've taken. Every part of him is taut, his body tense beneath you, waiting, aching for your next move. His gaze never wavers, fixed on you with an almost desperate longing, as if the anticipation alone could undo him.

You lean in slowly, planting a soft kiss on his lips, then another on his cheek, your breath brushing his skin. His chest rises and falls against yours, the heat between you both building to a near unbearable height. Then, lips grazing his ear, you whisper in a low, sultry voice, “I want you to fuck me the way a Queen should be fucked.”

Your words send a shudder through him, his body reacting instantly to your challenge. The restraint he’s been holding onto falters, his breathing turning ragged, his grip tightening slightly on your hands. The dominance of your demand ignites something primal in him, the heat in his gaze searing into you.

"Your Grace..." Jungkook murmurs, his voice deep and breathless, the title slipping out before he can stop it, laced with a mix of reverence and raw, uncontained desire. The slip into formality catches him off guard, as if he’s forgotten to leave the titles behind along with his armor. His jaw clenches, the tension in his body palpable as his control begins to fray at the edges. His eyes burn into yours, dark and hungry, as if your very presence has set him ablaze, and now, all he can do is watch helplessly as the flames consume him.

You feel the tension in his body, the way he’s holding himself back, and you smirk, rolling your hips against him, letting the friction drive him further into madness. “Are you going to make me wait, or must I command you again?”

That’s all it takes. His resolve snaps. With a low, feral growl, Jungkook releases your hands and grabs you by the thighs, lifting you effortlessly in one fluid motion. You let out a surprised giggle, heart racing at how easily he’s carrying you across the room. His strength, his commanding presence — it’s intoxicating, making your body heat with anticipation.

With a mischievous grin, he throws you down onto the bed, your body bouncing softly against the mattress. Jungkook is on you in an instant, crawling over you with a predatory grace, his body looming above yours, eyes dark and filled with intent. His hands press into the mattress on either side of you, caging you beneath him. The weight of him, the way his muscles ripple as he moves, has your breath catching in your throat.

His lips hover just inches from yours, teasing, his breath hot against your skin as he whispers, “I’ll show you exactly how my Queen should be fucked.”

There’s a rough edge to his voice now, one that sends shivers down your spine. His hands trail down your sides, fingers curling around the fabric of your dress, pulling it up and over your head in one swift motion. He takes a moment to admire the sight of you beneath him, his gaze smoldering as he drinks in every inch of your bare skin.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Jungkook’s lips descend to your neck, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down your throat, your collarbone, and lower still, as his hands grip your hips, holding you firmly in place. His touch is everywhere — greedy, relentless — stoking the fire that’s been building between you all night.

As his mouth moves lower, a soft moan escapes your lips, your body arching instinctively toward him, craving more. And just when you think you can’t take any more teasing, he pulls back, hovering above you once more, eyes dark with lust and promise.

Jungkook pulls off his tunic, standing before you, fully bare. His gaze is unwavering, filled with awe and raw desire as he drinks in the sight of you, every inch of your body drawing him in with quiet reverence. The heat of his stare is palpable, his lips parting slightly as his eyes travel from your breasts down to your stomach, pausing at the faint stretch marks left behind by your children. 

There’s no shame in his gaze, only admiration — those marks are a testament to your strength, the life you’ve brought into the world. His hand reaches out, hesitating for just a second before brushing over your skin, tracing the delicate lines with his fingertips, as if memorizing every detail. His touch is tender, contrasting the heat in his eyes, and the reverence in his expression makes your heart swell. 

“So beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice hushed but filled with sincerity, almost as though he's speaking to himself. The way he looks at you makes your heart swell. There’s no hesitation in his gaze, no second thoughts — just pure admiration.

You can’t help but smile. Despite being nearly bare beneath him, you don’t feel vulnerable. You feel cherished, worshipped even, as if this wasn’t the first time he’s seen you like this. There’s a sense of ease between you, as if his presence was always meant to be like this — intimate and without fear. 

Jungkook leans in closer, his lips trailing down to your hip bone, placing a soft, lingering kiss there. The sensation is both grounding and electrifying, sending a shiver through your body. You glance down, meeting his gaze — intense and burning with desire, the kind of look that makes your heart race and your breath falter. In that moment, you can feel the fire behind his eyes, as if the world has fallen away and you're the only thing that matters.

Without breaking the connection, he lowers himself further, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The kiss is soft, reverent, but full of promise, inching closer to the place where you crave his touch the most. Your breath catches in your throat, anticipation thick in the air, when he finally leans forward and presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your pussy through your soaking wet underwear.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips at the sudden contact, and instinctively, you lift your leg, gently pressing your foot against his shoulder to stop him from going further. His eyes flash with surprise, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in them as he looks up at you, waiting for your command.

“Maybe another time,” you murmur, your voice breathless but firm. “I want your cock.”

Your words hang in the air, heavy with anticipation, and Jungkook’s expression shifts, darkening with pure lust. He gives a low growl of approval, his hands gripping your thighs a little tighter as he quickly moves back up your body.

Jungkook wastes no time, his hands quick but careful as he pulls off your last piece of clothing and positions himself between your legs. His cock, already hard and slick with anticipation, brushes against your entrance, the warmth of him sending a ripple of electricity through your body. You can feel the tension in his muscles, every inch of him taut with restraint as he fights the urge to simply take you. He wants this moment to be more than just a rush of desire.

With a slow, deliberate nudge of his hips, he presses the tip of his cock against your core, the sensation both tantalizing and overwhelming. Your body reacts immediately, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he teases your entrance, the heat between you intensifying. His eyes are locked on yours, as if he’s savoring every second before fully sinking into you. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in closer, urging him to give you exactly what you’ve been yearning for. His lips crash onto yours in a heated kiss, the moment charged with raw, unspoken passion as he finally pushes into you.

“Oh Gods,” you moan, your back arching off the bed as the sudden stretch overwhelms you. Jungkook fills you completely, every inch of him pressing into you, making your breath hitch as your body adjusts to the delicious pressure. His movements slow for a moment, letting you feel every bit of him, the weight of his body grounding you as the heat between your legs spreads throughout your entire body.

Jungkook’s forehead drops to yours, his breathing ragged as he holds himself still, giving you a moment to adjust. "You feel so perfect," he groans, his voice thick with restraint. His hands roam your body, gripping your hips as though he needs to hold onto something to keep himself from losing control completely.

Your fingers slide up his back, nails grazing his skin as you tug him closer, desperate for more. "Move," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I need you."

That’s all it takes.

With a low growl, Jungkook begins to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, the sensation sending waves of pleasure rippling through you. Each movement is deliberate, deep, and measured. Your moans mix with his breathless grunts, filling the room with the sounds of your shared desire.

Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper with every thrust. His pace quickens, and soon, he’s moving faster, harder, the rhythm building as the pleasure between you grows. Each thrust drives you closer to the edge, your moans growing louder, more desperate as you cling to him, completely lost in the moment. 

Jungkook’s lips find your neck, peppering kisses along your skin between ragged breaths. “You feel so good… so fucking good,” he pants, his hips snapping against yours with growing urgency. 

Your hands tangle in his hair, your body responding to his with a need that’s been simmering for so long, now finally unleashed. "Don’t stop," you moan, your voice shaky as the heat within you builds to a breaking point. 

Jungkook’s thrusts become erratic, his breath hot against your ear. "Don’t think I can stop," he chuckles, his words sending a shiver through you just as the first waves of release begin to crash over you. 

You kiss him eagerly, teeth grazing his bottom lip before tugging at it playfully. Jungkook groans into your mouth, his hips stuttering for a moment at the sensation. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more heated as your hands pull him closer, your nails digging into his back.

He responds in kind, his lips crashing back onto yours, the intensity of his kiss matching the rhythm of his thrusts. He bites gently on your bottom lip in return, making you gasp into his mouth, your bodies completely in sync as the pleasure mounts between you.

Your kiss is a frenzy of passion, tongues dancing, breaths mingling, as every movement pulls you closer to the edge. You tug harder at his lip, and he growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips and sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins.

Jungkook’s pace becomes relentless, his control slipping as he loses himself in you. “The day of the Kingsguard posting,” he starts breathlessly, his voice low and rough as he thrusts into you. “When you walked onto the balcony… I saw you. Thought you were so pretty. So, so pretty.”

His words, spoken between ragged breaths, send a shiver down your spine, making you arch closer into him. You gasp, your hands clutching onto his shoulders as his confession wraps around you like a heated secret. The intensity in his eyes as he speaks, as he moves inside you, is overwhelming — his vulnerability laid bare, a part of himself he’s never shared with anyone else.

“I shouldn’t have thought it,” he continues, his voice thick with desire and restraint as his pace quickens, “but I couldn’t help it. I wanted you from that moment.”

You feel your heart pound in your chest, not just from the pleasure but from his raw honesty. Your lips part, but no words come out, only breathless moans as he pushes you closer to the edge. His hands tighten on your waist, his lips brushing your ear.

“I never thought I’d have you like this,” he whispers, his voice rough with awe and hunger, each word laced with the weight of unspoken desire. “But now that I do… I’m never letting go.”

His confession wraps around you, sending a shiver through your body as his movements become more intense. The passion in his eyes, the way his body presses into yours, has you spiraling, lost in the heat between you.

You raise a trembling hand, gently brushing his hair back, your fingertips lingering against his skin. “I’m yours,” you breathe, the words slipping from your lips like a vow.

The way his eyes darken, the way his grip tightens on you, tells you he’s heard it loud and clear. And in this moment, you know he’ll hold onto that promise as tightly as he holds onto you.

He laughs out a moan at this. His pace quickens, his thrusts deeper, harder, each one sending you spiraling further. Your moans mix with his, filling the room, the sound of skin against skin only adding to the fire between you. His hands roam your body, memorizing every curve, every inch of you like it’s the last time.

“I’m so close,” he whispers, his voice strained, his body trembling as he fights for control. His forehead presses against yours again, his eyes searching yours, desperate, as if he’s asking for permission to lose himself in you.

You nod, your own release building, teetering on the edge. “Cum with me,” you breathe, your voice shaky, your heart pounding in your chest. “Please.”

With a few more deep, powerful thrusts, you feel Jungkook’s body tense as he releases into you, a low groan escaping his lips. The sensation triggers your own climax, waves of pleasure crashing through you as your body tightens around him. You gasp, arching against him, your hands clutching at his back as you ride out the overwhelming sensations together.

His name tumbles from your lips in a soft moan, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. For a moment, the world outside fades — it's just the two of you, tangled together, hearts pounding in sync, as you both come down from your highs.

He doesn’t move right away, his weight still pressed against you, his hands tracing slow, soothing circles on your hips as he catches his breath. You can feel his heart beating wildly against your chest, a silent reminder of the intensity you just shared.

Finally, Jungkook picks his head up from your chest, his dark eyes soft as they meet yours. He leans in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss, just because he finally can. It feels different now, with no hesitation between you, just pure connection. After pulling away, he shifts to lay beside you, pulling you against his chest, your bodies fitting together perfectly. 

You lie there in comfortable silence for a while, both of you catching your breaths, the calm after the storm. Jungkook’s fingers absentmindedly trace shapes on your back, lulling you into a peaceful haze. But then, he breaks the quiet with a teasing tone.

“Did I exceed your expectations, my Queen?” His voice is low and playful, a soft chuckle escaping him.

You laugh, swatting his chest lightly. “Arrogant, are we?” 

But you don’t let him respond. Instead, you sit up, straddling his waist once again, your grin mischievous as you lean down to kiss him, deeper this time, your lips lingering against his. 

“Might need to go again to give you a wholehearted answer,” you say with a smirk, looking down at the man who looks far too comfortable in your bed — a man who, by all means, shouldn’t be here.

His eyes widen for a moment before a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face, matching your energy. He chuckles, his hands gripping your waist firmly, his desire evident.

Jungkook knew that once the children were tucked safely into bed, these sneaky nights with you would be his favorite part of the day — full of far more excitement than he’d ever imagined.

The days stretched on like endless hourglasses, the sand moving far too slowly. Every moment of the daylight hours was consumed by anticipation, the constant pull of wanting the sun to sink and the moon to rise. It was during the night, when Jungkook would slip quietly into your chamber, that the world finally felt right.

Whether it was tangled sheets, quiet conversations, soft laughter, or simply lying in each other’s arms, those moments with him were the highlight of your days — only second to the joy of your children’s smiles, of course. But with Jungkook, time seemed to bend, each night feeling like a stolen treasure that you cherished more with every passing hour.

As much as you despised the act of walking past Jungkook during the day, pretending he wasn't your lover at night, the thrilling game of trying not to get caught was undeniably fun.

The secret, the tension of it, had its own special allure. Yet, there were moments when the near misses took a more terrifying turn.

Like that one time.

You'd been soaking in a bath, the water warm and fragrant with bubbles, the steam swirling around you like a blanket of comfort. But Jungkook, always unpredictable, had snuck in without a sound. Before you could even protest, he was stripping himself bare, sliding into the tub with you, the sudden shift in water making a small splash as he settled in.

Laughter filled the room as water overflowed, but that quickly faded into a mix of heavy breaths, wet skin, and the sound of sloppy kisses. Jungkook's hands gripped your waist as he leaned back, his head resting against the tub's edge, eyes locked on you. Your hips moved in sync, the sound of water splashing and your soft moans combining with his groans, creating a rhythm that made your heart race.

Then, just as the heat between you both reached its peak, a knock at the door shattered the moment. It was so sudden and unexpected that Jungkook's hand shot up, covering your mouth before you could release a gasp, freezing you in place. Your breath caught, heart pounding in your chest.

"Your Grace, I have your warm towels," came a muffled voice from the other side of the door. The maid sounded so oblivious, so unaware of what was actually happening just beyond the wooden barrier.

Jungkook didn't move a muscle, still as stone, his hand resting over your lips as his eyes met yours with a mischievous glint. Slowly, he lifted his hand, urging you to speak.

"J- just leave them at the door," you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heartbeat betrayed your calm facade. "I’ll grab them once I'm finished."

Jungkook stifled a chuckle, clearly finding the entire situation amusing as though it was nothing more than a joke to him. But you knew better. This was dangerous, reckless, and could cost both of you far more than just embarrassment.

"Very well, Your Grace," came the maid's voice, before the sound of her footsteps faded into the distance.

The moment she was gone, you slapped Jungkook's chest, eyes narrowed in mock fury. "We could've been caught," you said, your voice laced with both exasperation and something else — something darker, more thrilling. But the smile that tugged at your lips betrayed your feigned seriousness.

Jungkook grinned, his chest rising and falling with a quiet chuckle, as he pulled you back toward him, the playful tension still lingering in the air.

Because nights with Jungkook were always too short, he made sure to steal as many kisses and playful winks during the day as possible. The fleeting moments shared between you were like stolen treasures, hidden in plain sight.

Whenever the children finished their lessons, Jungkook was quick to position himself in front of the door to the next room they’d move into, knowing you'd soon follow, eager to check on them and hear about what they’d learned. Each time, like clockwork, you’d approach, ready to step past him, only for him to block your way with a teasing grin.

“Let me in,” you’d whine softly, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips.

He’d simply point to his cheek, signaling for a kiss as if he were making a royal decree. You’d roll your eyes but play along, leaning in. Just as your lips brushed his cheek, he’d turn his head swiftly, catching your kiss on his lips instead.

Your heart would race as you quickly pecked his lips once more, a mixture of thrill and worry filling you at the thought of someone walking down the corridor and catching you both. With a final flustered glance at him, you’d hurry into the chamber to join your children, trying to maintain your composure as you asked them about their day.

Meanwhile, Jungkook would stand tall outside the door, his expression serious, as though he was merely guarding the room. But the sparkle in his eyes and the lingering hint of a smile betrayed him, the playful mischief still present even as he forced himself to appear composed.

The only person who knew about your secret relationship with Jungkook was Atticus. You’d confided in him, and he had been overjoyed to learn he’d been right all along. He had always suspected something, but hearing it from you only fueled his excitement and pride at being in on the secret.

Jungkook’s devotion to you went far beyond his duty as a knight. On the surface, he played his role flawlessly, always by your side, always vigilant. To everyone else, he was simply your loyal protector, the ever watchful guard who would give his life without question. But beneath that armor, beneath the stern facade he wore in public, his loyalty ran much deeper.

He wasn’t just devoted to you as his Queen; he was devoted to you as the woman he loved, with a fierce, unshakable passion that transcended titles or obligations. Every time he stood by your side, it wasn’t just as your sworn knight but as the man who would do anything to keep you safe, even if it meant loving you in secret for the rest of his life.

In the quiet moments, when the world wasn’t watching, his love shone through. The way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way his fingers lingered just a moment longer when they brushed against yours, or the way his lips would curl into a faint smile when he caught you stealing glances at him. It was in the way he held you at night, after everyone else had gone to bed, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that spoke of a love so deep, words could never do it justice.

Jungkook didn’t need grand gestures or declarations of love. His devotion was in the small things, the quiet sacrifices, the way he protected you not just with his sword but with his heart. Every glance, every touch, every whispered word in the darkness was a testament to his unwavering loyalty — not to the crown, not to his duty, but to you.

And though the world might never see the depth of his devotion, you felt it every day. In the way he watched over you, in the way he shielded you from not only physical threats but from the weight of loneliness that sometimes crept in. He was your protector, not just in body but in spirit.

As the years passed, your secret love remained hidden, but his devotion never wavered. No matter the risks, no matter how many times you had to pretend in public that he was nothing more than a knight, Jungkook’s heart was yours, fully and completely.

In the end, it didn’t matter that the world would never know the truth. You knew. You saw the way he loved you, not just as a knight sworn to protect you but as a man devoted to your heart, forever bound to you in a way that went beyond duty or title.

And in that devotion, you found your peace. Because you knew, no matter what happened, Jungkook would always be by your side — not just as your protector but as your lover, your confidant, and the one person who truly understood the depths of your soul.

© voyter 2024, all rights reserved.

[moonstruckme]

If it interests you, could you maybe do poly!marauders smut surrounding how they would react when reader gives one of the boys a blowjob? If this isn’t comfy for you I apologize immensely. I double checked your rules so hopefully I didn’t overstep or anything. Love your work! Also my middle name is Mae:)))

Honestly babe when I read this I didn’t know if I was comfy with it either (not because of you, just because I didn’t know if I’d be able to write it) but I decided to give it a go and somehow it turned into over 2k words? So thanks!

cw: smut mdni, oral (m receiving), praise, this might be horrible? I can't decide if I hate it

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

Sirius’ kisses have turned sloppy, one of his hands wrapped loosely around your neck while the other wiggles its fingers below the waistband of your jeans, taking greedy handfuls of hip. His hard length presses into your thigh through his pants. You tilt your head, slanting your mouth against his so you can kiss him more deeply, and a low groan rumbles through him. 

He plants a chaste kiss on your lips before starting to mark a path downwards. 

You know where this is going, and you like where this is going, but still a breathless “wait” slips past your lips. 

Sirius pauses, his face hovering over your middle. Next to you on the bed, your boyfriends continue making out, but you can see you’ve caught James’ attention. His eyes open to slits, peeking from beneath his lashes to check on you. 

“What’s up?” Sirius asks, rubbing your hip. “Don’t feel like it?” 

“No, I just…” you rub your lips together nervously, and you see his eyes drop to the motion. Already large pupils growing larger. “I wanted to know if I can ask you something.” 

Sirius’ eyes skim over you, a slow perusal that’s probably meant to deduce the cause of your anxiety but only serves to worsen it. “Sure you can,” he says, tone somewhat gentler than usual. “What is it, sweetness?” 

“Could you maybe,” you ask hesitantly, wishing you could lean away from him, as if some distance between you would make this any less embarrassing, “teach me to give you a blowjob?” 

Sirius’ lips part in surprise. This time it’s Remus who you catch looking over, a second before James breaks their kiss, sitting up over Remus’ torso. 

“You wanna learn?” James asks, lips bitten red and swollen. 

You glance between him and Sirius, not quite sure who to look at. “Yeah?” you say, hating the way your voice crawls up into a question. 

Sirius’ eyebrows twitch together. “You know you don’t have to,” he says, “right?” 

“I know.” You give him a little smile. “I’m just curious, I guess.” 

“Okay,” he says. His thumb sweeps over your hip like he knows you need the reassurance. “Yeah, we can show you, gorgeous. Wanna do it sitting down?” 

You take a breath, nodding before crawling out from under him and kneeling on the floor by the bed. Sirius follows you, sitting on the edge of the mattress and spreading his legs wide. Your brain buzzes in response to the erection you can see bulging through his pants. 

You glance towards the other boys. “Are you guys just going to…watch?” 

They’ve both been staring at you, but now James grins sheepishly. “If you don’t mind.” 

“We can help, if you’re alright with that,” Remus offers. “Give you tips.” 

You can feel your face growing warm at the prospect of them being witness to your bumbling first attempt, but you don’t hate the idea of them coaching you through it. 

“M’kay,” you say. “Um, what do I do?” 

“Try taking it out, sweetheart.” There’s a bit of laughter in Remus’ voice, but his hand is gentle as he reaches over the edge of the bed, brushing your hair behind your ear. 

Your eyes flit up to Sirius’ face. He gives you a smile, and you undo his pants, pulling down the waistband of his underwear so that his length springs free. For a few moments you just look at it, wetting your lips before looking to the boys for direction. 

“Here.” James gets down on the floor beside you and takes your hand in his, guiding it to Sirius’ shaft. “You’re probably gonna want to start by holding it like this, okay?” He wraps your fingers around the base. “Good. Now be careful to cover your teeth, and just try putting it in your mouth.” 

Just? You glance up at Sirius again, and a bit of pride swells in you at the undisguised lust in his expression.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you tell him softly. 

“Me neither,” he jokes, reaching down to thumb affectionately at your cheek. “You won’t hurt me, baby. And you can stop anytime you want, you know that. If you don’t like it, just stop.” 

You bob your head, wrap your lips around your teeth, and take him into your mouth before you can think too hard about it. His cock feels odd and weighty on your tongue. You lean forward a bit, seeing how far you can go. 

“Breathe through your nose,” Remus instructs. “Try sucking on it, whenever you’re ready.” 

You let your jaw relax, sucking experimentally, like you might on a popsicle. Sirius moans. 

“Just like that,” he says, voice taking on a thick quality. “Fuck, good job, baby.” 

Warmth unfurls in your gut at the praise. You suckle a bit longer, getting used to the feel of him in your mouth before you begin moving slowly forward and backward. After a few tries, your lips are making contact with the curled O of your thumb and forefinger each time. Sirius’ cock twitches in your mouth. 

“You’ve got it, angel.” James’ big hand roves the curves of your side, his touch steadying your nerves and stirring that heat in your core. “Don’t rush yourself, but if you wanna take him deeper you can take your hand off.” 

You do it with little hesitation, high on praise and the rush of what you’ve already accomplished, and ease more of Sirius’ shaft into your mouth. He puts a hand in your hair to help you along, but then all of a sudden it’s too deep, too big, too much. You gag, choking. 

Sirius’ hand disappears instantly, but you’re not so ready to give up. Your throat spasms around the intrusion, vision blurring as you try to breathe through your nose. 

“Easy,” Remus murmurs.

You finally can’t stand it anymore, pulling away and drawing in a gasping breath. 

“Shit,” Sirius says, and you lift your teary eyes to his embarrassedly while James rubs your back. “You alright?” 

“Yeah,” you manage, swallowing. “Sorry.” 

His eyes go soft. “Don’t be sorry, you did great. Do you wanna stop now?” 

You shake your head. “I think I just need a second.” 

He nods, and there’s a few seconds of quiet, James' hand coasting up and down your spine. “Do you think a demonstration would help?’ he asks. 

You swipe under your lashes, looking over at him curiously. “Um, maybe? I’m not sure.” 

He exchanges a quick look with Remus before grinning, shuffling closer to where the other boy sits at the edge of the bed and taking off his glasses. “Here. Sirius, talk her through what I’m doing, yeah?” 

Sirius seems about as transfixed by what’s about to happen as you are, but he nods. James does as you had, taking Remus’ cock out of his pants, and there’s no need to get it warmed up after the show you’ve been giving them. He feeds it right into his mouth. Remus groans as James takes his entire length expertly, fisting a hand in the other boy’s curly hair. 

“Right. Um, see how he’s breathing deep through his nose?” Sirius clears his throat, voice noticeably rough as he watches James’ lips move over Remus’ shaft. “He’s keeping his throat relaxed, not moving back and forth too much.” 

You watch as James’ mouth grows wet with spit and slick, his eyes watering a bit as he fights his gag reflex. His throat bobs, and Remus swears, his grip tightening on James’ hair. 

“And when he swallows,” Sirius manages, “his throat tightens, which is…uh, nice.” 

Remus lets out a breathy, half-delirious laugh at Sirius’ commentary. His cheeks are flushed red from pleasure and the attention, and it’s not long before curses start to spew from his mouth and he goes rigid, cuming down James’ throat. James swallows, grinning up at him. Lips and eyes shiny.

You and Sirius watch them for a few seconds longer, entranced by the sight of your boyfriends. 

“Okay.” You clear your throat. “Um, thanks.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” Remus says weakly, and you have to swallow a laugh. 

You turn to Sirius. “I think I’m ready to try again.” 

He gestures as if to say Go right ahead, and you take his shaft in your hand, guiding it back into your mouth. Once again, it takes time to adjust to the feeling, but this time when his head hits the back of your throat you’re ready for it. You breathe steadily through your mouth, focussing on staying relaxed as you suck gently. 

“There you go, angel,” James praises, putting his glasses back on to watch you. “You’re taking him so well.” 

“Fucking yeah she is,” Sirius agrees, voice growing reedy as he starts to pant. You take one of his legs to steady yourself, hand wrapping around a tattoo on his thigh. “Look at me, baby.” 

You lift your watery eyes to his, finding the stormcloud gray nearly eclipsed by dark pupil. The raw want in them makes your cunt throb. Sirius must find your face nearly as arousing, because he mutters another quiet, Fuck.

You’re distantly conscious of Remus shuffling back to the edge of the bed, and then he’s laying his head on his arms, gazing down at you. “Look at you, such a quick learner,” he hums. “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart. Making him feel so good.” 

“Look at her eyes,” James says, just loud enough so you can hear. You know they’re aware of what their words are doing to you, of the wetness pooling in your underwear. “She looks so pretty like this, doesn’t she?” 

“She does,” Remus agrees. “Our pretty girl.” 

You move a bit more surely over Sirius’ length, constricting your throat tentatively. Sirius moans loudly, his hand twitching toward you before he stops it. You take it in yours, setting it on the back of your head so he can guide you the way he wants. 

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” he pants, tangling his hand in your hair. “So good f’me.” 

You make a small, pleasurable sound, and another moan slips from between his lips, his hand urging you closer. You breathe through it when his cock sponges against the back of your throat, starting to enjoy the odd sensation of your mouth and throat being so deliciously full—and, if you’re being honest with yourself, the feeling of knowing you’re doing well. And if Sirius’ increasingly loud curses and the other boys’ murmured praise are anything to go by, you’re doing rather well. 

“God, I wish you could see how you look right now,” James says, voice smooth as velvet as he drops a kiss on your shoulder. “You’re so lovely.” 

“Fucking hot, s’what she is,” Sirius insists, brows coming together so urgently you wonder for a second if he’s in pain. “Fuck. Shit, where can I cum?” 

You don’t take your mouth off his cock, doing your best to communicate with your eyes. Sirius seems to get the message, his grip on your hair tightening, pulling at your scalp as his thigh tenses under your hand. You swallow hurriedly, and the sounds that leave him will echo in your dreams for the rest of the week, loud, pleady moans interspersed with mangled curses. Your mouth fills with warm wetness, and you ease him out of your throat before swallowing again. 

“There we are.” James tugs you gently away when he realizes neither you or Sirius are moving, pulling you half into his lap. “You did it, sweetheart, great job.” 

He strokes his thumb under your eyes for you, wiping away the wetness there as Remus watches you move your tongue around in your mouth funnily. 

“You alright?” he asks you.

You nod. “Tastes different than I thought it would,” you say. 

James laughs, the sound bright and clear. He plants a smacking kiss on your cheek. 

“Not bad, I hope,” Sirius says, voice still a bit stringy. He leans back on his elbows, watching you from the bed. 

You feel color rise to your cheeks. “No. Not bad.” 

His lips quirk up, eyes steady on yours. “That was fucking killer,” he tells you, “especially for your first time. Thanks for that, gorgeous.” 

You grin bashfully, dropping your eyes. James clears his throat loudly. 

“Right, right, and thank you for the demonstration,” Sirius adds. “Very instructive.” 

James beams, but Sirius only pats the bed next to him. 

“Why don’t you hop up here so I can give you a real thanks?” 

Impossibly, James’ smile widens. He’s quick to obey, Sirius moving to take his place on the floor. Your lips part, and you hear Remus chuckle. You turn to find his amber eyes watching you. They linger on your lips, still glossy and swollen. 

“Y’want me to help you out too, sweetheart?” He juts his chin toward the bed, a silent request for you to lie down. “Seems only fair, doesn’t it.” 

[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 13: Uniform Kink

Pairing: NewJeans Hanni x Male Reader

Word Count: 5,562

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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It’s just another goddamn stressful day that you’ll be tackling and you just can’t wait for it to end. Even teaching a class full of boisterous students sends you into a hellhole of utter stress and dismissing them is such a sigh of relief—you still show empathy and enthusiasm to teach and make them learn new things but there are just times where it’s really unbearable but you fight through it, following your moral code of conduct.

Yet one student stood out from the rest, not really because of her academic performance (in which she is already doing decently great) but, in the way she dressed that literally doesn’t follow the campus’ dress code.

As she’s about to leave and get her bangs packed and ready, you suddenly called out her name in a formal manner as you caught her attention off-guard. Of course, she rolls her eyes in subtle annoyance as her friends opted to just wait for her onto the campus’ canteen and Hanni agrees on that and averted her attention towards you.

“What is it, professor?” Hanni asks you with little-to-no-interest as wants this to end as quickly as possible as she has more endeavors to be in with.

“Ms. Pham, I would like to talk about something that I’m pretty sure you’re aware of.” Your stern demeanor intimidates Hanni as the presence of gravitas within you makes her feel a hint of nervousness, unsure on what you may talk about.

“I don’t seem to know what you’re talking about, professor?” She seems to not be cognizant about what you’re talking about as there’s multiple reasons on why you may call her out. It may seem sincere but she may act oblivious just to trick you but you could never be so sure, so you enlightened her with a fact. “Don’t you see what you’re wearing, Ms. Pham? Don’t you see that it definitely doesn’t follow the dress code of the school’s regulations.”

“Oh, I guess I’m sorry, professor. I don’t know anything about this regulation-thingy and what are you going to do about this, hm, strip it out of me, professor?”

God, this girl—Pham Hanni, yes, this girl is not the girl you don’t want to deal with. Everybody knows how bratty and stubborn she can get whenever she’s being disciplined and snapped back to her place, despite her bubbly and friendly attitude. With that iron wall that’s strong within her, you want to teach her a lesson and break it despite the possible risks and you might need to even take it a step further than the most primitive ways of disciplining students.

You let out a deep sight as silence ensues and then, you slammed hard on the desk and gave her a cold, stern gaze that startled and scared Hanni. “Don’t you dare talk to your professor this way, Ms. Pham Hanni—and I know you’re not this oblivious to not know about the school’s rules and regulations, don’t you?”

And as much as you’re having the higher authority right now, Hanni herself didn’t back down without a fight and rather provoked your inner fire that you didn’t absolutely like but your patience is staying stronger than steel, fighting through her stubborn behavior. It became continuous that the both of you are starting to argue like little kids but you still maintain your composition yet Hanni’s erupting like a volcano gone rogue right now and there’s one thing to deal with this, moreso, privately.

“Then why does it matter so much for you, professor? Just say the words and I—”

“Go to my office now, Pham Hanni.” You interrupted her with a single sentence as her heart dropped massively as fear now emanated on her eyes, as she never saw you this serious before. As much as she wants to complain or retaliate, she doesn’t want to get in any trouble or escalate this situation further so, without any choice, she packed her things and went to your office with you, of course—you need to guard her since she might immediately escape and catch you off-guard, unprepared and you don’t want that to happen.

Once you’ve reached your office, you offer her a seat as you turn on the lights and sit on your chair, ready to further talk about her annoying and frustrating behavior.

“Professor, if it’s just another dumb talk about my bitchy behav—”

“Can you just stay quiet, please?” You retort in response with her talkative antics that made you boil in anger and immediately, Hanni shuts her mouth silent and gulps nervously. “You are being a nuisance to a lot—let me repeat it again for you, a lot of professors, whether it’s your stubbornness or you just being incapable of following such simple instructions and being selfish, it’s getting out of hand.” You blow a deep breath as you’re about to tame a beast like Hanni as you’re preparing for another pointless hindrance that further makes everything go down into flames. 

You’re just as puzzled as most of the people that knew her and you hate that one thing that really shows how much the professors despise her—her bratty attitude that will never fade as the boys around her fall in love with that and it’s just something wrong. As much as you don’t like her not following the dress code the school has implemented, you can’t lie and dive into your hypocrisy with the beauty that lies within her because of her aesthetically hot school uniform outfit. Of course, you won’t let your intrusive thoughts win and remain composed throughout the time being of disciplining her and making her snap back to her roots.

Yet you have a single trick up your sleeve whenever this gets out of hand, and you’re just holding onto this for a while, testing your patience.

“We don’t know what to do anymore with you so a little cooperation will be appreciated if you will just—”

“But here’s the thing, professor—” Hanni pushes the chair a little back, before standing and giving you a subtle smirk in aims to lower down your guard. “—at the end of the day, it’s not going to harm anyone and you can’t do anything with it, hah.”

“Hanni, it’s not just that—it’s all about the discipline and the control of your—”

“Oh, stop it, professor—” Hanni walks towards you as your senses heightened, absolutely flummoxed with her eager movements towards you as she’s obviously seducing you into making you fall down her spell. “—don’t tell me you don’t like how pretty I look in this outfit.”

In all means, she’s goddamn right and there’s no way on earth you would say a no but of course, you’re fighting the urge of your primal desires as you brush her approaching advancements to lure you in, retaliating and further wanting Hanni to back down even though you know that she’ll just advance without anyone to stop her.

“Stop this madness, Pham Hanni—you’re not going to—”

“I’m absolutely in this, professor—stop being a hypocrite and tell me how pretty I look with this uniform.”

It’s her accent and her saccharine voice that further doesn’t help with your defensive state against her unstoppable will. You can’t lie how perfectly beautiful she looks in this possibly-cursed uniform as every inch ultimately highlights her slender waist, her beautiful thighs and her perky mounds and you hate it. Maybe, she dressed like this for a purpose but you’re not so sure and you’re running out of time before you unshackle everything that has been caged for so long.

Knowing that hypocrisy is such utter bullshit, you finally give in a little as you start to stutter and mutter such complimentary words that Hanni catches her ears on it.

“You l-look good in this outfit, Hanni—not going to lie with you. Your curves, your thighs, it’s just perfect for you.”

Hanni finally smiles widely with her eyes drawing such crescent moons, emanating her cuteness towards you. She’s delighted to hear your sincere takes on her outfit and decided to take it a step further than ever before. Hanni then closes towards you as her hands palmed your chest, the warmth of it making you overwhelmed and excited as your heart races its beat like it’s catching something.

“I guess you want something to deal with this, right, professor? And don’t you dare say no because—” Hanni looks at your eyes endearingly with aims to further lure you onto her spell as her thick Australian accent followed by her sweet voice seduces you further, “—I can see in your eyes, professor—your pretty, black eyes says it all…” She further puts gasoline on the flames as she caresses her hands slowly on your chest, making you feel the affection and sincerity of Hanni’s eyes and because of your clever mind, you knew exactly where this is going as you fully gave in to your animalistic urges and broke apart your stern, teacher-like persona.

“I do want you, Hanni. I can’t believe I’m saying this but you’re so goddamn pretty and hot.” You took some quick peeks on her impeccable features as she saw this, smiling at the fact that you’re admiring her scrumptious body and her pretty face.

“I know professor—you’re hot and pretty handsome too. You don’t know this but—” Hanni tiptoes as you slightly slouch in order for her to be in level with you as she whispers in your ear, “—I had a crush on you for a long time now, professor.”

This may sound unorthodox for you but you feel your heart beating triple its normal rate, finding Hanni’s advances wholesome and flustering. It may sound wrong as you want to unhear what Hanni just said but you can’t help yourself with your own desires and even wanting more. Knowing that Hanni’s touches are getting bolder enough for you to act up, you gently push her hands off on your chest as she pouts cutely, dejected with your retaliating advances yet she doesn’t give up, at her watch.

“Hanni—we can’t be doing this. This is just wrong, I’m sorry—”

“But professor—” Hanni lays down onto the couch as she displays herself in front of you and all you can see is an angel getting ready to be sullied. “—don’t you wanna think of something else? Like, kissing me, making me rile up or just ruining me with this goddamn uniform? Come on professor, make a girl worth her while…”

With your own desires taking over you, you can’t be bothered to really make yours unattended as her primal calls make up for your time as you were lured by her own devilish remarks. You pin her down at the couch as she yelped in response, feeling a little shocked with your aggressive actions but she never wanted you to break the heated atmosphere that has been building up as she grabbed your collar and kissed you intimately.

This is totally wrong—you said to yourself but you didn’t care anymore, not when Hanni’s plump, luscious lips are in contact with yours, sharing such an intimate kiss as the both of you find yourselves even indulging deeper and not wanting to end this so soon but speak of the devil, Hanni pulls out of the latch of your lips as she looks at you with need in her eyes. Can’t seem to really contain yourself anymore because of such a hot scene, you thought of something that will change the course of this session and will start things off incredibly well.

“Get on your knees, Hanni. I’ll probably assume you know where this will go, right?”

Getting up on the couch, Hanni eagerly obliged to your request as she knelt down in front of you with her eyebrows furrowed, a little nervous about what you may have in store. Hanni knows what you’re coming up with but she just wants everything to be confirmed by you so she didn’t hesitate to ask you about it. “Are you s-sure about this, professor?”

“Yes, Hanni—I am more than sure. Besides, no one will know any of this and have no secret cameras installed here anyways. Now, do your thing and impress me.”

Your tone makes her heart drop as the heat makes everything intense as your stern face intimidates her but it didn’t bother her to start her own service. Her hands trembled a bit but she didn’t care as she continued unbuckling your belt and then unbuttoning your pants as you mildly groan due to her hurried actions as her touch feels enchanting, the hotness rivaling the cold air that had permeated around the room. Even with the possible uneasiness laced in every move she does when she’s stripping you, you can’t help but be in awe of how she’s genuinely interested in what she’s doing as the lust and anticipation glistens on her dark orbs.

“Have you done this before, Hanni?”

Hanni, still busy with her current activity, takes a second before she could respond as she looks at your eyes endearingly and mutters, “Not really, professor—just on my toys though, so I had some little practice at my end.”

You scoff as you were shocked by Hanni’s dirty, little secret but you didn’t take it as a joke or way too seriously—it’s just great that she had experienced it with even a silicon toy but now, she’ll be trying the real thing and it’s just going to be better than this. Now, with your last defense left before her grand treasure, Hanni didn’t waste any time and let the feral beast inside you be unshackled from its frustrating restraints and god, Hanni’s eyes lit in awe and amazement as she gets her first treatment and a sight of such a beautiful, perfect cock.

“Professor—it looks good and thick. It feels so warm and nice on my hand too—woahh...”You can see how adventurous and how new Hanni is in these kinds of things as she’s just in full-admiration of your entire length now all for her to taste and use. You want to show some mercy with Hanni, even with her bitchy attitude that makes you want to teach her lesson, you’d still keep the feral beast inside you for now as you don’t want yourself to grow impatient, reminding Hanni on what to really do.

“Show me what those plump lips can do, Hanni—show me what they’re really made of.”

“Yes, professor…” With no time to waste, her soft flesh meets your engorged tip as she sends multiple pecks onto it, from your tip down to the base her actions immediately send waves of pleasure and it's a pandemonium of delight. Sudden surge of pleasure does course down your veins and you can’t help but let out moans that screams volumes of peak delight and gratification with the incredible work of Hanni’s lips marking every inch of your shaft with her touch and she’s barely even doing anything on your cock yet. 

Well, you didn’t need to imagine anymore nor Hanni as she envelops her soft lips all over your tip, just pushing it almost the frenulum as she eagerly bobs her head and sucked onto your length like it’s favorite popsicle. With you sitting onto the couch, you may think that Hanni’s struggling a little due to the position but she shows no signs of it as she continues her masterclass of an incredible display of her talented mouth doing wonder all over your length. She definitely knows how to suck a damn cock like yours, even if she said she hasn't had a real one and just done it with her toys makes you think if she’s lying on her teeth but you didn’t mind it as you let do an incredible job between your legs. Inevitably, saliva seeps out at the side of her mouth and onto her chin due to her furious bobbing as it stains the couch and makes it a little wet—adds to the element of a messy, sloppy, and most of all, a great blowjob session.

With now taking more than half of your length everytime she thrusts her mouth on your cock, a gag can be heard resonating around the room as it’s bound to make your arousal soar higher than the heavens, and it absolutely did. She didn’t stop sucking you, moreso, even pull out quickly enough to catch her breath as she gives you the best she could deliver as she’s totally serving the dish hotter than what you expected, all of the elements coming all together in aims to reach a single goal: to make you stimulated enough to blow a healthy, thick load. With her furious bobbing onto your constantly throbbing penis, you grabbed her blonde-highlighted dark streaks as an outlet to fight the constant pleasure you’re experiencing and wanting yourself to give her a treat, you caught her off-guard by simple forcing your entire length down her throat as it hits the back of it, activating her gag reflex and immediately, she forced out of your saliva-sheathed member as she catches her breath in response.

“Wha—What w-was that professor?”

“I just wanted to feel your entire throat and if you can take it whole, Hanni—go on and continue…”

Hanni throwed a slight glare because of your sudden harsh actions towards her but she brushed it off immediately and got back onto sucking your raging length again. This time, it was better considering how she locks eye contact with you periodically, more often that earlier and with a new and a better addition, Hanni’s dainty fingers finding its way to fondle your balls for further stimulation as it became so frequent that you increase the quality and also the volume of your moans and that alone sends Hanni onto a better task at making your brain go haywire.

There’s is no absolute way that this can get any better—Hanni bobbing her up and down furiously as she gags every time she does it, saliva seeping out her mouth and staining the vicinity around her lips, her tears and makeup getting ruined because of her own harsh doings against your length, and the peak of the iceberg is herself in her uniforms which turns you on so fucking much—and there’s nothing you can ask for at this moment. Her pace is just getting ridiculous at this point that it’s all going to get out of hand soon because you’re feeling the familiar sensation growing up in your loins as you have  more plans ahead for this girl as the both of you are just starting.

Well, you never knew that a girl in her uniform would make such a blowjob session thrice as hot as you’ve ever thought about and maybe, you just found yourself a new fetish.

“S-Stop, Hanni…” Your pleas fall deaf onto her ears as the sounds of her constant slurping and her sheer focus on sucking you off makes off a wall to refrain herself from any distraction. Gathering up more strength, you raise your voice in hope for her to hear you as you can feel yourself going near that high you’ve been waiting for but you don’t want it deep down her throat.

“I said stop, Pham Hanni!”

Fear took over her as she’s startled and afraid with your tone, immediately stopping and pulling out of your drool-lathered, throbbing length as connections of saliva were evident.

“Did I d-do something wrong, p-professor?” You could feel the fright laced between her words as felt bad and guilty with it, so you reassured her in the nicest way possible as you don’t want this to end so quickly and anti-climactic.

“No—I want my load to be deep in your pussy because girls like you don’t deserve a load deep down their slutty throats…”

“B-But I deserved it!”

“I won’t repeat myself, Hanni.”

You’re not wrong, by any means. If she misbehaved so badly and acted like an unbearable brat earlier, then it’s just fair making her be deprived of your seed. You commanded her to stand up as she did so, and you helped her with that and not so long after, you ordered her again to bend herself over, her hands palmed all over the wall as she gave out an excited look, Hanni anticipating what you may still have in store up your sleeve.

“Do you w-want me to strip off m-my clothing?” Like your growing fetish onto hot and petite girls in uniforms, you can’t be bothered to see her naked as two brilliant things are the reasons: one, she’s still within the school’s premises as you don’t want her to be utterly ruined and naked when the both of you are done and two, you really want to sully her with her uniforms on as it’s such an arousing sight to see her curvature and her impeccable features being complimented by her uniform. With this conclusion, you came up with a single reasoning and replied to her—

“No, I want your uniform stayed on—you’ll look better ruined with those on and look too great on that.”

Hearing this, Hanni’s lips curled up a smirk as she knew how to really turn you on right from the start. She knows her captivating and alluring aura will send down your defenses and will break your stern persona as a professor and given the fact that her in a uniform turns you on even more than what she expected, makes everything better and more arousing. Now, with her unparalleled pleas of needs towards you, you can’t help but feel yourself inching closer towards a heavenly route towards your own sin—and you’re about to take such a bold risk that will define your limits and Hanni’s and it’s all about to break down. With her petite and slender figure bent over and ready for taking, you take a moment to admire her plump cheeks and her beautifully sculpted thighs that it’s in the right amount of thickness. You caress your palm over it as your fingers slowly run over the hem of her white-laced panties, stretching it out a little in order to tease her and not for long, your deftly swiped it down to her ankles as you were met with her glistening, needy cunt that’s already dripping and you don’t know when it started.

With that desired treasure within your reach, you’re in no state to not dive into it yet your conscience fights with you but you manage to calm it down as you fully indulge on your own needs and immediately, you plunge your length in her with a harsh grip on her thighs as a leverage and god, her moans are basically the purest and the most erotic sound you’ve ever heard in your entire life—such sultriness and sweetness behind her lustful needs makes it such a great symphony to listen as rhapsodies of her delighted feelings escapes her mouth, further muttering such lovely moans that greatly fueled your lust over her.

You know this is wrong—so besmirching yet you’re at the point of no-return and just finding yourself being lured deeply into the abyss of your primal desires.

“God—p-professor—your cock—oh, it’s so big and n-nice up my tight, l-little cunt!”

“You’re t-tight as fuck too, Hanni—let me guess though—” You then inch closer towards her ear and fixed her hair as some of it falls back onto the other side as you muttered, “—you’ve tried shoving up your toys in this tight pussy, isn’t it?”

Hanni’s already at her vulnerable point as she can’t think of any articulate response rather than moaning in need yet she manages to fight through it, uttering a reply before she can let out her lustful profanities again. “Y-Yes—yes, professor! I l-love playing w-with my toys that’s why—fuck, so good!”

As you ensue such powerful yet slow thrusts, Hanni can’t help but voice out her satisfaction each time you do it as her thighs jiggling in response to your harsh movements is bringing you into a hypnotic trance. With her delectable buttcheeks being a victim of such vibrations due to your constant ramming of her cunt and with that such, you gave her a single spank that reverberated around the room and Hanni herself cried in intense pleasure because of it. With such an incredibly hot sight of Hanni in her uniform, getting railed from behind, you can’t help but make yourself unable to maintain the pace even if you wanted it slow with Hanni and you didn’t last long and gave in to your primal instincts and let your hips do the work.

Your new profound pace makes Hanni writhe as her fist forms tight curls from the constant course of pleasure running down her veins, making her stimulated enough to drip around your ravaging member and onto the floor, staining it with her own succulent juices. Your hands now averted its attention towards her shoulders and then her perky mounds in which you slowly groped, and fondled them carefully while still maintaining a breakneck pace that’s been forming such heavenly clouds of gratification that makes the best for both worlds. She lets out a series of satisfied moans, but this time, it’s more sultry and more of a whimper in your words as your intimate actions brings her closer onto her own promised land.

“Oh fuck—professor! P-Please k-keep doing—fuck, ahh—that!!”

It was the same words uttered earlier and until now, and you’ll never get tired of it and will even make her a ruined mess that can only moan such lifeless syllables full of lust. With your relentless pace and such stimulating actions onto her small mounds, you further make it worth her while as you kiss her nape and suckled onto the porcelain skin, making her feel cherished and treasured as it’s all just becoming too much for Hanni that she’s unable to control herself, vulnerable on writhing unstoppably as the quivering of thighs would be a reasonable evidence to start with.

If this is what Hanni wanted at the very start, then she’ll get what she wanted—not because she solely deserved this, yet.

“Is this what you wanted, hm, Hanni? You really decided to dress like this to lure me in—well, you fucking got it because—” You keep fucking her steady as she cries from the stimulating actions your hips has been oscillating as her tumultuous mouth letting out the most lustful profanities are coming into a halt. “—I’ll destroy this pussy and fill you up like a good fucking girl and to teach you a fucking lesson!”

With the venom laced being thrown at her, unlocking the pure devilish deeds in you and putting your merciful façade onto its unfortunate demise, you let yourself be unshackled from the restraints you’ve been cursing yourself onto and rammed her tight, wet cunt like there’s no tomorrow. You gave her nothing but a lightning pace as each thrust aims to break her in half, teaching her a lesson and as the cherry on top, to fuck that living bratty and bitchy attitude out of her. Now grabbing the tie that has been an absolute iconic element of her outfit, you used it as a collar for a leverage to further fuck her into oblivion and with this pace, it isn’t going to be long before Hanni meets the end of the line, setting herself up to the top step of absolute lust and peak quality of pleasure—the long-awaited orgasmic trance of Hanni.

You know how close she is with the constant pulsations of her pussy around your ravaging length as you muster up the fastest pace your hips can do just to chase her orgasm further and with an ear-screeching scream of ecstasy, she announces her anticipated high.

“Oh god—I’m g-gonna—fuck—gonna cum on y-your cock, professor! Holy sh—shit!”

“Do it, Pham Hanni—cum on my cock like a good, pretty girl.”

With the last string of her defense now cut down, streams and streams of her nectar flow around your cock as she catches her breath everytime she lets out rounds of such an intense orgasmic high. You didn’t stop your thrusts though, yet you slow down to give her a breather but she looks back at you, wanting you to fully ravage her tight cunt even with her current state. Marking that as a green, you further resume your frantic pace as the wet squelching of her pussy and the constant clashing of both your drenched bodies became an arousing sound to hear as it draws you further to your own peak, inching it closer yet you fight it in order to savor the tight feeling and an ecstatic clenching of her velvety walls around your throbbing shaft. You support Hanni with your muscular arms as you can see how her orgasm depleted a chunk of her energy as her hands became weak, unable to full grip onto the walls as she just became a lifeless form capable of just uttering the most erotic syllables known to man and god, it’s even drawing you closer to the edge as it stimulates you into oblivion, and can’t draw back.

Chasing your own high as you want it as soon as possible, you use her body like you have something to prove to her as you train her with the aims to derive the best pleasure out of it and Hanni’s, too. Even with the orgasm-drunken state of Hanni, she’s able to encourage you to further release in her as she wiggles her bubble butt leisurely, wanting to get off yourself too as her voice captivates you and lures you deep on your darkest, lustful desires.

“Come o-on, professor—use m-my cunt and cum i-in me—please, I w-want it! I’m s-safe so you don’t need t-to worry—ahh—a-about me!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, reluctant with that approach that you may do the unthinkable but yet find yourself thrusting harder and faster, “Are y-you sure, Hanni?”

“Yes! Yes, p-professor—so please, I w-want your load d-deep inside me…”

With Hanni’s reassurance and her further encouragement for your long-awaited release, you trust her as you give her wet, tight walls the final thrusts it deserves as she constantly clenches with your pace, unable to control herself from it as you gave in.

“God—I’m gonna cum so hard in you, Pham Hanni!”

And then, your final blow decimates the last standing defense within you as your euphorically groaned and shoot spurts and spurts  of your treasured load deep inside her cunt as you bury your whole length in her, in aims to fill her up to the womb as she lets out such ecstatic moans with the warmth inside her painting every inch of her walls white with your seed. Your initial response after a mind-bending orgasm that lasted for like fifteen seconds is to pull out slowly and admire the creamy mess you made inside her emanating heat, as the both of you let out such exasperated breaths after a steamy session that no one can possibly top off. Hanni becomes weak as her legs got a little wobbly from your aggressive actions, sitting down slowly at the floor and recovering herself from the earlier euphoric trance and so did you, letting your cock soften as it twitches in need but you didn’t mind anything and take some time to recover.

“Oh my—you came so much in me, professor…” Hanni lightly laughs as it’s contagious, laughing with her and smiling right after, knowing how satisfied she is as much as you did.

“You too—I could literally feel a faucet leaking out of me when you came.” Hanni blushes from your reply as her hands come down to the hem of her panties, pulling it up as some of your semen leaked out and stained her thighs.

Awkward silence ensues right after as both parties slowly descend into recovery, catching breaths and reminiscing—maybe comprehending too—such remarkable moments throughout the intense session of such intimate sex. 

“Oh gosh—well, y-you proved your point already, professor.” Your face paints a confused one as you vaguely remember what she could be talking about.

“Of what, Hanni.”

“Of teaching me a lesson, professor. Would definitely follow your orders from now on.”

You faintly smile from her possibly sarcastic ways of a response of your “discipline” but you can sense the sincerity deep within her despite her unfathomable attitude.

“You know, we should clean up and fix ourselves, Hanni.” 

The both of you then hurriedly got up as you helped Hanni since her legs are weaker right now (but it’s in a state where she can still walk) thanks to your constant ramming at her cunt for like umpteenth times. The both of you fix yourselves and become more presentable and as she’s about to leave, you chat with her for a short while and then waved goodbye at each other but now, both of your faces emanate delight and comfort.

---

As Hanni is walking her way down towards her friends who've been waiting for forever, probably in the school’s canteen, she notices a small note stitched onto her backpack that says, “Thanks for that, Hanni. I’ll be calling you later for something… :)”

Knowing that it’s from you, she can’t help but smile as it went all troublesome but in the end, it all fell down onto curiosity and possibly, a stronger connection.

[moonchild033]

Indicators of having sex before marriage 🌚❤

Disclaimer: *MINORS DNI*❌

Note: There is no universal right or wrong in anything. Whether you are a person who is sexually active before wedding or after wedding does not make a change, I'm putting in this note as there is a huge taboo in having sex before wedding in India and in some other cultures too I guess, You do what's best for you, Just remember to stay happy and healthy always. *Hugs*❤

This post is to unravel which placements or synastry aspects can make you have sex or any physical intimacy in an unconventional setting, more like where your culture does not support it but it can happen secretly, making a native more inclined to break the so-called taboo in their surroundings. 🤫😈

OKAYYY, That's a huge blah blah, Let's dive into the topic-

Rahu/Ketu in the 8H of D9 chart- This is a very common but least explored placement. This can even make the native conceive before wedding and conduct the wedding right after or have wanted abortions before wedding. The point to note is that Rahu/Ketu should be alone in 8H of D9 and Ketu here is more prominent for contributing to this interpretation.🤰🧚

Moon-Mars conjunction synastry- This is the most common, famously known as the baby maker placement in the astro community and YES, this may cause intense physical attraction between the couple. If this synastry is in 4H or 12H, most probably it can be a taboo in either of the couple.💣💯

Mars signs in opposition/Mars in 8H synastry- Mars in sister signs can create a magnetic attraction dynamics where you don't even know why you got attracted in the first place, something you lack is in them and it turns you on. Mars in 8H synastry is again pretty commonly talked placement and this can be more unconventional when it is in the sign of Cancer or Taurus. 🤫😏

8H stellium/Scorpio stellium- No sextrology observation posts end without this mention, so here you go. The unconventional theme here strikes in when the stellium includes Rahu ,no Jupiter/Saturn in the mix and when the stellium planets are a mix of stars ruled by either Rahu/Venus. Ex. Two planets is in Rahu ruled stars and Others are in Venus ruled stars in a 8H stellium. 💥🖤

Lots of 7H synastry aspects (Esp. Conjunctions and Oppositions)-Having this is again an immediate attraction factor. Only this cannot be an indicator of having sex but sure is an indicator of having physical intimacy and physical touch as primary love language. They may also be the PDA couple *winks * 😍💋

Water dominants- This may come off as a surprising placement but as water is associated with being soft, tender, timid or quiet, this is often overlooked. Water dominant natives are more prone to indulge in sex when they are emotionally connected with the person and they love to have sex frequently too. Don't underestimate water placements, they give it all when you got their heart even if it is unconventional in their upbringing. 😈🖤

Aquarius/Sagittarius Mars- This placement especially in 4H, 6H or 8H can make the native love the concept of sex if it is a taboo for them. They are very curious and have an explorative side. Aquarius is an unconventional placement but it is ruled by Saturn-Planet of restrictions and Sagittarius can be very religious and following their beliefs as it is ruled by Jupiter, so these placements can go either way. Either they are sexually very active or follow their morals/beliefs to death, there is no in-between. They can be interested in outdoor sex.🤓👄

Again another Note: Having these placements alone does not mean these interpretations can 100% match with you, Analyze your whole chart, do not conclude anything from a single placement. Hope you had a good read! 😼🖤

Please feel free to comment down your thoughts/questions! 🤗

Let's Learn and Grow Together! 💅💋

With Love-Yashi❤⚡

Here's my Masterlist! 💖

[literaila]

Please give us another day in the life of reader and gojo I love them too much 🙏😔

“gojo satoru.”

satoru hangs his head over the couch armrest, a brilliant smile lighting up his face. “hello, wifey.”

he makes grabby hands at you, but you push him away, frown strong enough to burn down buildings. you’ve lived with megumi for nine years—you’ve learned well.

“why am i getting texts from yaga, shoko, and nanami about you?”

“planning my birthday party?”

“it’s august.”

“must be a big party. now c’mere, i haven’t seen you all day.”

you realize, then, that you’re standing far too close to him. satoru’s arms are egregiously long, and built only to annoy you. he tugs at your pants, entirely too strong.

“stop,” you shake your head at him, slapping his hands away. “not until you tell me what you did.”

satoru huffs, falling limp. “why did i have to do something?”

“are you kidding?”

“shouldn’t you be on my side?” he pouts, sitting up so he can plead at you. “isn’t that in the marriage vows?”

“it’s sickness and health, not stupidity and recklessness.”

“that’s just mean.”

you poke his forehead and he falls backward—very dramatically, just so we’re clear. “tell me what you did, gojo.”

satoru flips around, looking dejected. and maybe it’s a bit cruel to ruin his happy, clingy mood. but you know what else can ruin your mood? getting texted by your coworkers the entire day about your idiotic husband.

“if they’re texting you then you already know,” he mumbles, into the side of the couch, like a child.

you just stare at him, deadpan expression on your face, tapping your foot incessantly.

(it’s the same look you give megumi and tsumiki when they’re fighting over something inconsequential).

“oh, put that away,” satoru complains, waving his hands at you. “that’s only for the kids.”

“when you start acting like an adult, maybe i’ll start treating you like one.”

satoru scoffs. “all of you guys are just lame. you’ve never experienced any joy. don’t you want the children to be happy? can’t you allow them some—“

“i feel joy every time i get to pull your hair,” you tell him, leaning over the couch so that you can do it. “now fess up.”

you’re perched over him, knees on either side of his body, almost sitting on his back. and you can’t get a complete view of his face from here, but you know enough—have had enough satoru—to guess every expression.

he frowns, waiting for something to come same him—like an excuse, or a saving grace—and when it doesn’t, he says: “i don’t see what’s so wrong with taking the first years out for dinner.”

you lean back on the armrest, staring at him. “where’d you take them?”

“twenty-four hour ramen shop.”

you pause, inspecting the side of his face. “when did you take them, satoru?”

“…the night you were gone last week.”

“what time?”

“well, time is relative, so—“ satoru gives you a little, completely guilty, grin. he’s turned around to try and ease the blame with his face.

“what time?” you repeat.

“just like… three-thirty in the morning.”

you slap your forehead and groan automatically. no, really. your body has an instinctual reaction to all things satoru.

“they were hungry!” he protests. “and i missed you. you know how quiet it gets around here. do you just expect me to lay around all by myself?”

“taking the first years to dinner is fine,” you tell him, leaning over to him, hands in his hair, so you’re face to face, making direct eye contact. “nice, even. but they have a curfew, satoru.”

“well, what’s up with that? it’s pointless. we didn’t have a curfew.”

you blink at him. “…yes we did?”

“no, we didn’t,” satoru gives you a condescending look, “we used to leave all of the time.”

“yeah, without yaga’s knowledge. you used to force me to break the rules.”

“no, i didn’t.”

“satoru,” you say, shaking your head. “are you being serious about this? because i can’t tell.”

he pouts. “didn’t you like going out with me?”

you laugh, moving off of him so you can actually sit on the couch. your feet ache after a long day at work, and you really would like to cuddle—after an appropriate amount of scolding, of course.

you don’t say anything and satoru sits up, putting his head on your shoulder in a ridiculous attempt to get you to look at him. “didn’t you?”

“no.”

“then why did we do it at least once a week?”

“because you never take no for an answer,” you tell him, as you try to push his head away. but he does budge, choosing to, instead, dig his nose into your neck.

“c’mon,” his voice is muffled. “you liked it.”

you give up—or give in—and string your hands through his hair, trying not to squirm at the ticklish feeling of his breath. “well, i liked that you were too scared to kiss me.”

satoru snaps back, frowning. “i was not scared!”

“then why did it take you nine years to finally do it?”

he crosses his arms, staring down at you, very unimpressively. “six,” he corrects, basically huffing.

“okay, satoru. six. why did it take you six years to finally kiss me?”

he looks away from you, pouting again.

and you laugh, finally, prying his arms from their position so you can lay on him. satoru goes down easily, his hands finding their place around your shoulders, his legs colliding with yours, connecting like a puzzle.

you kiss just under his jaw, your only version of an i missed you.

really, it’s not like you can tell the man without him imploding from the very idea.

“i wanted to make it count,” he whispers to you, “kissing you.”

“that might be the only thing you’ve done right in our entire relationship.”

he pinches your side, but does nothing more, not bothering to argue again. the kids won’t be home for another two days, so it’s just you.

just the two of you, laying there.

still, you’ve grown used to satoru’s methods of distraction—his sweetness, his ability to talk forever.

“if you ever take the kids somewhere after dark again,” you whisper to him, sweetly, “i’m cutting your hair in your sleep.”

“you like my hair too much,” satoru argues.

“it’ll be a punishment for both of us. i can’t let you be unattended for too long.”

“yeah,” satoru nods his head aggressively. “i guess you cant leave me alone ever again. guess you’ll have to stay here forever.”

you snort into his neck and he keeps you there, smushed against him, not caring if you can breathe or not.

still, you can both clearly hear the “guess so,” you murmur into him.

[sanguineterrain]

Ahhhh yes I'm so excited that you're writing spencer! Could I request something with a reader who's also considered "weird" by people (aka neurodivergent) and it gets them down but spencer doesn't think they're weird obviously and maybe they bond over that? I hope this makes sense 🩷 love ur fics!!

hope this is okay :) spencer reid x gn!reader. rude cop alert, reader feels down about not picking up on invisible social expectations/cues, Spencer comforts them. ty for requesting!

****

New crime scenes make you lock in and hone your attention. You've always done that. Ever since you started at the BAU, that's meant that you break some invisible rule more often than not.

You approach the cop who called in the case from behind. "When did you find the—

He flinches, dropping his clipboard. Immediately, he rounds on you, annoyance palpable.

"Jesus, knock much?" he asks, brow low with frustration. "Sneaking up on people in this line of work is a bad habit."

"I'm sorry," you say, not quite sure what you're apologizing for. "When did you—"

"And who are you, exactly?" he interrupts, looking you over. "Selling cookies?" He laughs at his joke.

You push through, showing your badge and saying your name. The cop snorts.

"FBI, huh? Wouldn't have guessed. You don't act like it. You know you're supposed to sign in, right?"

"Yes, I know. I've been here for ten minutes," you say. You can't pinpoint exactly what you sense, but you recognize the tone someone gets when they're making fun of you.

"Ten minutes?" The cop looks past you. "I didn't see you."

"I signed in at 8:14."

You've learned that being precise is very important because it makes people more likely to believe you. Sometimes your precision puts people off, but you have to show them that you pay attention, lest they have any doubts.

"Uh-huh. Look, is your supervisor here? Someone in charge? I need to give this report to someone."

"You can give it to me. I was assigned to this case," you say.

He snorts. "Right. First time sniffing around a murder case, rookie?"

You blink, confused. "No. This is my thirty-third case."

He's about to respond when Derek interrupts. He flashes his badge, says his name, and the cop clearly respects him, straightening up.

"What have we got here?" Derek asks, and the cop launches into the explanation you've been wanting since you started the conversation.

You get that prickling sensation on your neck, that feeling of humiliation when you've missed some cue. Your first thought is that maybe the cop doesn't respect younger agents, but it's more than that. It's always more.

It's always something you've done.

You slink away, and Derek doesn't even glance at you, which is fine. He's busy. You won't take it personally.

You drift over to Hotch and Spencer instead. Hotch is talking to a witness who heard the gunshots. Spencer is supplementing his questions with information about how bullets splinter different types of wood. He looks at you as you approach and that instantly makes you feel better. Spencer never ignores you.

"Thank you very much," Hotch finally says, touching the witness on her arm briefly. "We'll call you if we have more questions. Someone will drive you home. If you'll follow me out."

She follows Hotch and then it's you and Spencer.

"What do you think?" you ask.

He shrugs. "Too early to tell. The witness said she heard sounds after the shots that she didn't recognize. What did the officer say?"

You shrug. "I don't know. Derek's taking his statement."

"I thought you were," Spencer says in confusion.

"I tried to, but he wouldn't talk to me. He said I don't act like an FBI agent. Called me a rookie."

It's part of the job, these kinds of interactions. Not every government worker is the nicest.

"I don't understand what's wrong with me," you say before Spencer can say anything. It's too honest for a crime scene. Anyone else would be annoyed by your whining.

Spencer shakes his head. "Nothing's wrong with you."

"I feel like there is," you say quietly.

Spencer's the only one who understands. He's been called every name under the sun. He's so smart, and you're always in awe at how smart he is, but, according to Hotch, some people get intimidated rather than awed and say mean things as a result.

You're not a genius like Spencer, though. You're just an agent. You're fine at your job, but sometimes you don't even get the chance to demonstrate that. You have no idea what makes you fumble simple interactions like taking a statement.

"So he made it seem like you're inexperienced," Spencer says.

You nod. "I don't know why. I went to him, about to ask a question, but I guess I startled him. He snapped at me to not sneak up on people. Then I apologized. People like when you apologize, right?"

Spencer shrugs thoughtfully. "Sometimes. Apparently, it's a very fine line between when you should and when you shouldn't. Did you introduce yourself?"

You frown. "Later, I did."

He hums. "Apparently, people don't respect our authority unless we're flashing it obnoxiously. That's what Penelope told me. Take a page out of Derek's book."

You both look at Derek, who's got his hands on his hips, posturing like he's in a procedural drama. Spencer shares in your laughter. It's like drinking the sweetest, richest cup of hot chocolate when Spencer looks at you like that.

"Do you do that?" you ask, smiling.

"Ah, apparently, I haven't quite nailed it. I'm the least approachable agent on the team, according to a DEA agent."

Your face falls. "I think you're approachable."

Spencer lifts his hands as if to say, what can you do? Maybe you should be the same. It's just so hard.

"I can't do anything right," you blurt, sobering up. "There's so many rules, Spencer. I just want to solve cases. Isn't that why we're here? That's why I went to the cop in the first place."

You feel babyish for complaining. You know what someone else would say: suck it up. But this job sometimes feels like you're on the field playing baseball, and everybody else is playing chess. No one else seems to struggle with the invisible rules of being an agent. No one except...

"Yeah, but to that officer, it's also an assertion of power," Spencer says. "He's the kind of person who only responds to perceived authority. He didn't perceive authority from you, even though you have it, because you wouldn't be here if you didn't. So, he thinks you should've cowed to him and flattered him with inane niceties to get the information that you deserve to know to begin with."

You blink. "Really? All that?"

Spencer nods. "I've known lots of people like him. Classic law enforcement personality. For the record, I think it's stupid. You're smart, and you're good at your job. You shouldn't have to make yourself smaller to get people to do what's expected of them."

"I wish I could do something quiet," you say morosely. "Do autopsies or something. Stay out of the way."

Being quiet is easier. You work in a place where some talking is necessary, but it's also not strange to think quietly for periods of time. And people can't get mad at you when you're quiet.

But then, you really love the BAU. You'd hate to be transferred. You'd hate to be away from Spencer Reid.

"I don't want you to be quiet. You're good at what you do here," he says. "Don't let an insecure person make you doubt yourself. Also, you're not inexperienced: you've solved thirty-three cases."

You grin. There's nothing quite like being seen.

"Tell me more about bullets and different wood types," you say.

Spencer's face lights up, and you suddenly feel more sure that this is exactly where you're meant to be.

[chaos0pikachu]

4 Minutes and the Cinematography of Nipples

I said before that I thought 4 Minutes was pretty instantaneously the best looking BL on the market for 2024 after one episode. Which, not gonna lie, is a pretty big fucking claim. There’s been a lot of BL that’s come out that’s looked good, and I do think there’s been a steady improvement overall in the market in the last few years. Personally I think Japanese and Korean BL have a stronger production quality over a majority of Thai BL but like, if that’s a hot take I guess I prefer my food spicy. 

The point being~ if I’m gonna make such a hyperbolic statement, well I better back it up right? 

So I’m gonna break down a few scenes from the first episode, what I liked about them, why they worked for me, and why on a technical level I think 4 Minutes has just got it going on.

For better readability you can also check out this essay here.

Sidenote: my google docs kept trying to autocorrect “Bible” to “the Bible” and idk how to teach google I mean the hot Thai actor and not the book of Jesus. 

To start, I’m going to break down this scene featuring Great and his nepo baby cat: 

I thought starting with this scene would be good because it’s such a low-key scene and honestly making these simplistic scenes visually interesting is very difficult! But if you have the basics down, the foundations of cinematography and film making, these simpler scenes can be really memorable. 

Like yeah we’re all gonna remember this scene because shirtless Bible and oh my god Akira!? - I have only recently learned who Akira is; why is this cat getting a bigger bag than me? - but beyond that, what makes it cool to watch? What makes it interesting? What information does it showcase to the audience? 

One thing I added to the video was a grid for the rule of thirds. 

Rule of thirds is a shot composition technique applied to both film and photography. It’s the grid you see if you film a homevideo and helps a Director and Cinematographer figure out where to place the subject or subjects of the shot. The idea is the gridlines show you where you “should” place the subject(s) of said shot. 

Like everything, the rule of thirds is a guideline in filmmaking, not a hard and fast unbreakable rule. Filmmakers like Wes Anderson like to play more with central composition shots, rather than ROT. 

Anyway on to the opening shot, right after our credits and we’re moving into the shot. 

To start, the first thing I notice is the scene’s color grading. Color grading in film is the manipulation of raw film footage to create specific color tones throughout a project. Sometimes this grading is more pointed and obvious, think The Matrix, while in other films it’s not as obvious but still very prominent, think Killers of the Flower Moon. 

It’s not that the before credits scene looks entirely, jarringly different from the opening scene, but the hospital scene is surrounded by whites and blue tones, it’s darker, and only a single source of light exists. It gives the entire scene a much more frantic, uneasy aesthetic but it’s not so far off from the darker muted tones of the next scene that it feels jarring or out of place. 

The second big thing I noticed in the episode is the use of aspect ratio. I’m not 100% sure what aspect ratio the production used exactly, but the use of widescreen as opposed to full screen in my opinion, gives the episode a more cinematic feel to it in comparison to other Thai BLs. 

Example, if you look at Century of Love (2024) it appears to be filmed in the standard full screen - which I believe is 16:9? - while 4 Minutes is widescreen (thus the black bars at the top and bottom). Widescreen can give a show a more “movie like” quality to it which is part of the vibes I get from 4 Minutes. 

(source)

Onto Great’s actual introduction scene.

We’re not starting the shot with static movement, but with a camera panning right. I’ve talked about camera panning and such in BL before and it’s something I’ve found doesn’t happen as often as it should. Which is a shame! It’s such a simple technique but it adds so much. 

Imagine if we entered the frame with a static center shot, and then a cut to Great sleeping and turning off his alarm clock, and then another cut to above the bed. Think about how much more boring that could be visually. 

Instead, we enter the scene with movement, panning over and creating some interesting visual framing. 

So here’s our opening shot, do you notice anything interesting? To start, what I like about this shot other than the panning movement in, is that we don’t see Great’s face yet. In fact we don’t see his face in full until about 30 seconds into the scene. This builds anticipation, yeah we all know what Bible looks like, but for the audience who doesn’t this helps build anticipation. 

Who is this character? What does he look like? What’s his deal? 

It also engages the audience more, if you notice part of the composition of the shot has Great in the mid-ground slightly blurred out, while the foreground emphasizes the things on his desk. He’s distant from us, the audience, sleeping off his hangover not yet ready to “join” the world yet. 

Here’s another two more things I like about this shot:

Lines. 

Using lines and shapes can make a scene more visually interesting and invoke different feelings to the viewer. In this shot, I get a sense of symmetry, the camera panning right, lightly drags across the screen alongside the lines below and above Great, almost creating a frame within a frame effect. As if Great is boxed into a clock in and of itself. 

You can also see the use of balance in the scene as well, connecting back to that visual theme of symmetry as well as blocking our view of Great’s face. The lava lamb and champagne bottle are almost the same height, which helps create balance in the shot. The champagne bottle informs us Great has been drinking or does drink since it’s positioned so close to his bed, whilst also continuing to hide his face away from the viewer. 

I also like that the lava lamp is a bright spot of color. The tone of the scene is mostly muted greens, and gray, but the bright orange lava lamp and even the pink champagne bottle draw our attention but don’t overwhelm us either. It provides the scene with some warmth but doesn’t offset the overall tone of the color grading. 

And then, the last bit of this shot:

We have Great knocking over the champagne bottom, and turning off his alarm clock. Notice that the alarm clock and the champagne bottle hit those ROT dots almost exactly. There’s also the use of lines by the length of Great’s arm - I just forgot to add a line I’m a failure, a fake, fml - we see him knock over the bottle, and then we follow the line of his arm directly to the alarm clock which is also a shape, a circle. 

I like that they used a clock with a specific notable shape, since by the end of this scene the clock is relevant to the story as a whole. Using a shape makes the clock more visually noticeable and memorable to the audience. 

So in the next cut we’re above Great - just like Great’s gonna be above Tyme, fuckin hell I’m corny - in a medium-full shot and there’s a couple things I really like here. 

I really like the use of lines here with the bed going in one direction but Great’s body going another. It’s disconcerting, and off kilter a bit. 

The use of patterns plus the opposing symmetry, whereas in the previous shot the lava lamp and champagne bottle were providing balance, here one side of the bed is patterned, while the other isn’t. This creates a sense of imbalance and makes the shot more visually interesting.

This medium-full shot at a high angle makes Great smaller, and continues to showcase his dishevelment, keeping him distant from the world itself. Also notice the lack of color here as well. 

What could this say about Great as a character? Or his story? 

So this next cut is the one that actually inspired me to write this essay to begin with and know what I’ma eat some crow here. I originally said it was a great ROT shot but I was wrooooooong. It’s definitely a center composition shot. 

Notice as well, the bed itself is its own shape - rectangle - center in the frame, and yet the shot almost looks unbalanced again because of that singular patterned rug. It’s the only pattern in the entire shot, not even Great’s pillows have noticeable patterns on them. 

The above view camera angle in a full shot creates almost an omnipresent feel, as if the audience - or something else? - were looking down upon Great. Whose face we still haven’t seen! It makes him smaller, less powerful, and almost vulnerable. Shots like this are often used in horror films like James Wan’s Malignant (2021) where the horror spector will be looking down above the would-be victim. 

Another thing I like about this scene though is we have Great moving. It would be simpler and easier to have his phone just by his alarm clock, or under his pillow, but think about how much more visually interesting it is that he has to move down the bed and reach for his phone. It creates action in an actionless low stakes scene. 

And now, 30 whole seconds in and we’ve finally seen Great’s face! 

Fun fact, with the ROT grid the gridlines fall right across Bible’s nipples. That’s not a film analysis, just something I noticed entirely intentionally. Thanks Madam Director Ning Bhanbhassa Dhubthien.

The actual shot is in center composition again, as Great rolls over and reveals his face the camera begins to zoom in. 

This creates movement in the scene instead of leaving the camera to statically observe it’s now, finally, inviting the audience to meet Great. Pulling us in towards him whereas before we were kept at a distance. Great’s awake and, well as ready to meet the world as somebody with a raging hangover can be. 

I also like how Bible is moving constantly in this scene; he rubs his eyes and nose, he twitches his fingers, titles his head back and forth, etc it’s nothing revolutionary but it’s appreciated. 

When the scene cuts, we get this shot: 

I didn’t put the red dot on his nipple, it just landed there. This is all Madam Director Ning chepie. 

But you can see how Great’s body is landing on all those gridlines pretty solidly. Also in the background we see his alarm clock again, a bright blurred circle in the distance. I also like the angle of this shot, as it creates depth in the frame, with Great’s head being in the foreground his lower body in the mid-ground and the background blurred out. 

What follows is Akira appearing in frame. Which was really difficult to capture so I don’t have a screenshot. But what I really like is Akira entering the frame out of focus. They could have just cut to Akira, but instead they opted for Akira to enter the frame which is more interesting. 

When we do cut, Akira is firmly on one of those dots so we don’t miss them in the frame. I think it’s also interesting that we’ve pulled out again, into a mid-full shot, hanging above Great, and we see that clear symmetry line again between the patterned rug and the regular carpet. 

I also really love that when we got to Great sweet-talking Akira and feeding them we’re not just doing a cut, we’re panning downwards which continues to add movement to the scene. And we get that moneyed sponsor shot! 

Durex can’t pay for everything okay?

So in the final bit of this scene we get focus on Great, who’s in focus, before he gets up and leaves the frame where the camera then focuses on the clock behind him. 

See how in the first frame the background is all blurred out, but once Great walks out of the frame - again, great that he walks out, movement!! Y’all don’t understand how boring 1000 Stars was for me to watch because of the lack of this stuff okay? - and then the focus shifts to the clock. Which is round. 

God I know that sounds so dumb, but imagine the clock without that ring light bit on it, it’s just a tiny little rectangle. Not as fun or interesting to look at right? Or as noticeable especially from a distance? 

This shift in focus also tells us “this is important” whatever “this” is. The subject of the shot goes from Great to the alarm clock but they are positioned as equally important. We’re meant to pay attention to this seemingly innocuous item, which we learn later in the episode is time. We’re meant to remember and note that time will be important to the story - I know with a title like 4 Minutes you’d fucking hope time would be important but have y’all ever read Youtube comments? It’s rough out there for visual comprehension okay? 

So all in all this scene is only 1 minute and 40 seconds give or take. It’s very short, but I don’t think it was boring at all. I think it’s a really solid introduction to a main character. Think, Korn didn’t get this much time to showcase his introduction, his scene is shorter - though also well done - which showcases which character is more of a story priority. 

This scene eases the audience into the story, inviting us to wake up into the world like Great is. It uses techniques like lines, shapes, symmetry, color and focus to make what could be a very boring scene into an interesting one. 

There’s so so much I probably and certainly missed, I’m far from an expert, but I hope I was able to articulate what I liked about this scene, and why I think it looks good. 

Stay tuned for more if I can manage to focus long enough to breakdown more scenes lol

Also red dots on Bible’s nipples are just funny to me it be what it be. 

Further Reading: 

Composition in Cinematography / THE LAST OF US

Center-Framing vs Chaos-Cinema: Mad Max vs Transformers

Camera Framing: Shot Composition & Cinematography Techniques Explained [The Shot List, Ep 2]

The Ultimate Guide to Camera Shots (50+ Types of Shots and Angles in Film)

Color Grading 101 - Everything You Need to Know

Mixing Film And Digital Footage: Killers Of The Flower Moon

In Praise of Subtle Cinematography

[lazycats-stuff]

Hiiii! I was wondering if u could so a batfam x deaf male reader? Where everyone in the family knows sign language and all that. But during one of Bruce's galas the reader gets kidnapped and no one's knows until Damian notices that his younger brothers not there anymore? U can decide how u wanna finish it and its completely if Ur not comfortable writing it. Also I love Ur writing 😙

Oh hell yeah. Thank you for loving my questionable writing though.

Summary: (Y/N) is deaf. That doesn't help him when he gets kidnapped.

Warnings: kidnapping, protective family, fluff I guess...

Bruce was protective of all of his children. But he was more protective of (Y/N), his youngest child. Why? The reason is very simple. (Y/N) has been deaf since birth and that made Bruce beyond protective. (Y/N)'s brothers were no better than Bruce. Of course, they knew that deaf people could function normally in society. They knew that very well.

However, problem lies in two points.

First one being that they live in Gotham City. Crime is rampant, criminals are absolutely everywhere and the fact is that you get mugged at any point during the day or night. Although most of criminal life in Gotham operates during the night, no one wants to take any chances.

And even though (Y/N) doesn't go on patrol, Bruce still worried about his youngest son. Always has and always been.

The four birds shared the same sentiment. Everyone made sure to learn sign language and how to live with a deaf person. Rules were determined, such as, if entering (Y/N)'s room, just push your hand in and then flicker the lights on and off to signalize that you are entering. Don't approach (Y/N) from behind because he would often get spooked.

(Y/N)'s own words.

The second problem lies in the last name Wayne. Bruce Wayne is a well known businessman in the world. And the world of business is like a sea full of sharks. Bruce knew that very well. One drop of blood and they would be out for you and your weaknesses. And one of those is your public image.

Bruce was a proud father, attending anything that his children might have. Anything there is. He wants to be there for his kids, sue him. He would never allow work to take him away from his children. And the way he presents himself in the public is the way he is. More often than not, he hates how many people can be ignorant about deafness.

Sure, some may be genuinely curious about it and the questions come from a genuine place of interest. Unfortunately, such people are far few in between. Bruce can sniff them out rather quickly. More often then not, they often look condescending. Which is a rather judgmental way of looking at people, yes, but it's obvious.

Whenever they had a gall, one of the boys would be with (Y/N) to translate. And despite the fact that (Y/N) can read lips, he's not a fan of that. If someone turns their head and he can't see their lips, it gets more complicated.

Even now, as they are at the gala full of people, (Y/N) stuck close to his brothers, needing a translator. Bruce and others often rotated, to make sure that (Y/N) knows what's going on and that he's in the loop. (Y/N) was happy with that he wasn't out of the loop. It's not a good feeling to be out of the loop. Hearing or not.

He signed to Jason that he was going to go to the bathroom, who nodded, sipping his drink.

Jason signed back. " Sure, go ahead. I'll be moving around so don't expect to find me here. "

(Y/N) nodded and started walking to the bathroom. Jason glanced at him for the last time before moving to the table with food, ready for a snack. He was hungry and the catering at galas is just great since rich people pay for it. AKA Bruce Wayne pays for it and he also loves good food.

As Jason went to the food table, (Y/N) was on his way to the bathroom. He was about to enter when someone grabbed him from behind, putting a cloth over his mouth. (Y/N) panicked and tried to remember the self defense that he was taught. He tried to break free from the person, but the smell of the cloth made him go out cold.

Something was off. Damian glanced around the room, trying to spot what that something could have been bothering him so much. His eyes moved around the room, trained to find anything out of the normal. Then it hit him.

Where is (Y/N)?

Damian moved around the room discreetly, trying to figure out where he went. He talked to Jason about it and Jason told him about (Y/N) going to the bathroom. But that was far too long ago... Damian now became more suspicious and worried. He was on edge. He could feel himself getting more and more restless, his mind screaming at him that something is wrong.

He quickly walked over to his family as they all took a chance to breathe on the balcony. Damian made sure that they had some sort of privacy.

" Are you alright Damian? " Bruce asked, glancing over Damian. He could feel that something is wrong with Damian.

" I'm not alright father. I can't seem to find (Y/N) anywhere. " He crossed his arms as he leaned on the railing of the balcony. Everyone tensed up at that.

" Hold on, he went to the bathroom the last time I talked to him, " Jason declared and Damian nodded.

" But it's been far too long though, " Damian countered the point.

" Did he come to anyone, at all? " Bruce asked and everyone shook their heads.

" Okay, maybe he went to his room, " Tim said, trying to provide a logical explanation. " But he would have told one of us where he would go. He would find one of us and he would tell us... " Tim muttered, now worried himself.

" Should we check the security cameras? " Dick asked, worried, but trying not to show it.

" I'll check the cameras near the bathroom. " Bruce took his phone out of his pocket and going into his security feed.

Jason remained silent, feeling guilty that he didn't notice sooner. Bruce noticed and put his hand on his shoulder. " Do not blame yourself Jason. Please. You couldn't have known. This is our home and none of us should be on guard in our own home, " Bruce murmured and Jason sighed.

Bruce brought Jason into a hug. " (Y/N)'s going to be fine. We are going to find him quickly. "

Dick and Tim furrowed their brows. " What do you mean? " Dick asked.

" You 4 have to swear to me that you won't tell (Y/N), " Bruce stepped away from Jason and everyone muttered that they won't tell.

" I put a tracker on his suit. It's a small one, " Bruce admitted and everyone was shocked by it. They knew that their suits that they wear for their vigilante activities have trackers on them, but a normal suit, for galas and other events...

" It's only when we are at galas and such. There's no tracker on him 24/7, " Bruce elaborated before his sons could accuse him of something.

" Well, we can't tell (Y/N). But lets go get (Y/N) please, " Tim said and everyone nodded.

" I'll have Alfred make something up and we'll make a story so it doesn't seem suspicious about why we didn't know (Y/N) was taken. "

And that's what happened. They concocted a story about it and once Batman dropped him off at GCPD, Bruce came in as a worried father. Media had a field day with the story, a father and son reuniting after a such traumatic event. Bruce couldn't care less about them, his sons are his priority. Screw the media.

Understandably, (Y/N) was shaken up by the entire ordeal. Anyone would be shaken up after being kidnapped in their own home, but with (Y/N) being deaf, he couldn't hear anyone walking up to him. Not to mention, they put a bag over his head. Being in the dark, not being able to hear...

It tugged at Bruce's heartstrings. The other 4 weren't immune either. Damian, the normally stoic one, was affected by that aspect. Even he saw how scary it was. Not being able to see due to the bag over your head and not being able to hear because you are deaf sounds like hell. Damian saw it as a form of torture. And in a way it is. Sensory depravation. Only being able to feel with your touch or feel vibrations, but still...

Damian still shuddered as he tried to envision it.

The other 3 shared the very same sentiment.

And even now, as (Y/N) was with them, on the couch, bundled up in blankets, sipping some herbal tea that Alfred made to calm him down. Both Bruce and Alfred were trying to calm him down too. Bruce was going to find a therapist for (Y/N), that much is sure. It would have to be someone who can sign though...

Well, he'll make sure to find one. For now, he'll focus on making sure that (Y/N) is calm enough to try and sleep. Buce knew that adrenaline was still pumping, but that it will stop soon and (Y/N) would essentially crash.

Everyone sat around (Y/N), trying to calm him and make him feel safe again. Bruce and Tim were going to see how in God's name they managed to get into the manor. This place is more safer than Pentagon, designed to keep any intruder out. And he was going to find out why they wanted to kidnap him.

The best bet was probably money, but then again, you never know. And Bruce was going to make sure that he knew why. You have to nip the problem in the bud.

[azriels-shadowsinger]

Game Night (Azriel x Reader)

summary: You and Azriel have been kinda flirty for a while, but it has never actually gone anywhere. When game night turns into strip poker… well i’m sure you can guess where this is gonna go.

wc: 1.5k

a/n: i haven’t written anything in a long while bc ive been kinda very depressed so this may suck. also thank yall so much for 200 followers!!

!!warning: suggestiveness at the end.

The males should have known it was a bad idea when you four females insisted on the game. Mor had oh so innocently suggested a game night, after which Nesta randomly got the idea to play poker out of nowhere, followed by immediate approval from you and Feyre. Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel had wrongfully assumed that you all had suddenly gained interest in the game and wanted to learn for fun, so they agreed.

The night started out wholesome. You were ‘learning’ the basic rules of the game while losing a decent amount of money. As expected, Rhys was trying to help Feyre as she kept losing money to his brothers. After several rounds of defeat and many more rounds of drinks, the males started to notice that you four were losing less and less. Actually… you were all holding the majority of the chips by this point. Azriel, in his usual perceptive manner, accused you four of cheating and hustling them. You and Mor couldn’t help but break out laughing.

“I’m sorry! It was just too easy!” You said between giggles.

“Especially when Rhys started telling Feyre his cards in her mind so she wouldn’t lose, which she immediately told to us!” Mor laughed loudly. Feyre gave a sheepish grin and Nesta only smirked while pulling her most recent winning to her pile. Rhys, Cass, and Az couldn’t help but to laugh, commending you for being able to trick them. Cassian, however, insists that they were going easy on you the whole time.

“Well, it’s on now. No more holding back, right boys?” Cassian says with a smug grin while dealing new cards to the table.

“It shouldn’t be too hard to win, now that I figured out each of their tells.” Azriel stated matter of factly while peaking at his cards. His shadows swirl around him, blocking anyone from being able to see the hand he was dealt.

“Oh really? You think you can tell when we’re bluffing? I think you’re overestimating those spy abilities, Az. You haven’t called any of my bluffs correctly so far.” He shrugs. “I think we may need to make this game more interesting since you three claim you’re going to actually try now. I’m thinking we raise the bets to-“

“Let’s play strip poker!” Cassian bellows, obviously drunk, and cutting you off before you can say anything else. Rhys exchanges a look with Feyre. “I think that Feyre darling and I are going to retire for the night before we lose more of our money or our clothes. Goodnight everyone!” He laughs. They throw their cards on the table and winnow away, leaving just you, Nesta, Mor, Azriel, and Cassian at the table.

Cassian stares expectantly at Nesta. “Cmon, Nes! Say you’ll play!” She sighs dramatically and agrees. “Fine. Only if Y/N, Mor, and Azriel all agree to play too.” Your face turns red. While you don’t doubt your poker abilities, the thought of stripping in front of Azriel… or worse, seeing him half naked, makes your heart race. You and Azriel have only ever gone as far as flirting with each other, but these Illyrians are always flirtatious, so you don’t think it means anything. Regardless, your mind wanders to the mental image of a shirtless Azriel, sparring in the training ring this morning. It’s always so hard not to stare. His abs, his arms, his wings…

“Y/N? Are you playing or not?” Mor questions, pulling you from your daydream. You realize everyone has agreed but you now.

“Sure, whatever.” You say quieter than before, still slightly blushing. You look at your cards nervously, praying to the Cauldron for a good hand. Luckily, you get it. The round goes on, and eventually Cassian is the first to lose an item of clothing, opting to lose his shirt and making a big display of removing it.

An hour later, you have all had several more drinks, everyone has discarded a couple items of clothing (except for Cassian who was down to only his boxers and his left sock), Mor got tired and left, and you were focusing way too closely on one of your poker chips in an attempt to not stare at Azriel.

Cassian flips the last card and… it’s not what you need. You bite your lip nervously, pushing several chips to the middle of the table while trying to maintain a confident façade. “I raise.”

Cassian and Nesta both fold, leaving just you and Azriel. You feel his eyes on you, probably trying to tell if you’re bluffing. Your skin heats under his gaze. Trying to appear more confident, you meet his stare, only to notice he’s not staring at your face, but rather a bit lower. You blush and Cassian clears his throat. “Uh, your move, Az.” Azriel immediately looks away, staring back at his cards.

“Um, I fold.” He mutters and tosses his cards on the discard pile, and you can’t help but notice the way his other hand is clenching and flexing under the table.

“Y/N wins! Az, looks like you’re down to your boxers now!” Cassian slurs slightly. Your eyes go wide and you give a panicked look to Nesta.

“Cass, I think it’s time for us to head home. I’m tired.” She gives him a look that he obviously must recognize because he is very quick to leave, obviously excited to get home. They say goodbye and head out, leaving just you and Azriel.

You stand to gather your things, but Azriel stops you. “Are we done playing, sweetheart?” You feel his eyes trail down your half-exposed body.

“You can keep your pants on, Shadowsinger. It’s late and I’m drunk. Plus, if we play another round then one of us will end up a bit more naked than friends should be around each other.” You laugh awkwardly. Azriel’s eyes darken slightly and he leans in to whisper in your ear. “Scared you’ll lose?” You shudder at the closeness and the feeling of his breath on you.

“No. I just don’t think you want me to find out that the wingspan theory isn’t true.” You quip back with a raised eyebrow. He lets out a short laugh and sits back down. “Deal the cards.” He says smugly.

You deal the cards, trying to ignore the tension thick in the air. What the hell is he doing? How are you supposed to act friendly and hide your feelings if you see him naked? How is he going to react if he sees you without a bra? You deal the last card and look at your hand. Not terrible, but definitely not great. You bite your lip nervously. The round plays out and it’s time to place the final bets. You make your bet and then look to Azriel, biting your bottom lip nervously. He studies his cards, then sets them down to look at you.

“You wanna know something, Y/N?” He picks up a poker chip and spins it between his fingers. Gods, those fingers. “You bite your lip when you’re nervous. Did you know that?” You freeze. “And while it has been rather advantageous to know when you’re bluffing this whole game, I do find it kind of cute.” He slides all of his chips into the middle pile. “I knew you were bluffing the last round. And I know you are now too.” His voice is low and full of confidence. Your face is completely red now as he flips his cards over. Royal flush.

You turn your cards over in defeat and he grins. “I win.” He says smugly. He stands and saunters towards you, caging you between his arms in your chair. You look up at him, and you can see the silent question in his eyes. Is this okay? You nod softly and he smirks.

“As the winner, I think it’s only fair that I get to claim my prize. May I?” He gently slides your bra strap down your shoulder. This is actually happening. Weeks of flirty words and lustful glances, leading to whatever is about to happen.

“Rules are rules.” You maintain eye contact and reach behind to unclasp your bra. He grabs your wrist, guiding it back down and reaching behind you himself. His fingers softly trail up your spine, leaving goosebumps behind, before he reaches the clasp and unhooks it. Your bra falls to the floor and Azriel’s eyes roam over you hungrily.

“Gods, you are even more beautiful than I imagined.” He gently guides you to stand, walking you back to the wall and pressing you against it. “I have wanted to do this for so long.” He whispers against your skin before moving his lips to yours. He kisses you with no restraint. One hand cups your face while the other moves up your side. You melt into his touch, savoring his taste. A small moan leaves your mouth, causing him to growl softly.

Azriel pulls away for a moment to say something, but before he can, you hear footsteps in the hall. Quickly, you rush to grab your clothes before anyone can see you. Moments later, whoever it was walks past the room towards the kitchen. You let out a breath, continuing to get dressed.

You give a look to Azriel, who had already managed to get fully dressed somehow. He can read the question in your eyes. Now what? Azriel reaches out a scarred hand toward you. “We can keep playing the game in my room.” He smirks. You take his hand and you two quickly head out, leaving the cards and poker chips on the table.

idk what this was. honestly it was a WIP from months ago and i’m not sure if I love how it ended up but whatever i just am trying to write again :)

[casanovawrites]

random sentence prompts  ━ from various tv shows, part 11

you’ve been such a pain in my ass.

you’re the most fascinating person i’ve ever known.

can you stop needing to be the hero here?

people don’t just disappear. 

we are saying goodbye. just not to each other. we’re saying goodbye to everything else, our old lives.

everything that kept us safe is gone.

i would rather prepare for the worst before the worst happens.

i am basically 100% headache right now.

you’re the only one who ever let me feel normal.

maybe i suck too. i just don’t know how yet.

i’m not choosing anyone. i’m choosing work over play.

doesn’t it feel like everyone wants us to be someone we’re not?

a sleepover? am i invited?

it has to be you. you’re all we’ve got.

you know me. we know each other.

it’s called keeping up with the times, asshole.

but fuck all of you, and i mean that.

people don’t usually follow my lead, if you know what i mean.

there’s nothing wrong with us.

i want your point of view on things.

you’re killing me. you get that, right? that’s what you’re asking me. to die for you.

i’ll follow your rules. that’s all you get.

i’d love to trade witty one-liners with you.

you’re the worst. you know that, right?

today is the first time in my life that feels like the right time.

there is a point to everything. there are answers.

god doesn’t just play games with people for fun.

the sun just keeps coming up every day, and you can’t cry forever. 

you have to have hope, don’t you? because who knows. maybe tomorrow.

you don’t get to decide what matters.

a lot of what’s happening is us being scared, and alone, and bored. so we do scary things to each other, we hurt each other. 

it’s like she wants to turn the whole world upside down.

who’s been there for you more than me?

bullshit. we’re not the same person.

you didn’t pick me. because you didn’t think i belonged.

if i had to pick anyone in the world when things got bad, i’d pick you.

this isn’t about us. this has nothing to do with us.

there is no us. because of everything.

i love you. i know i don’t always show it, but i do. i love you.

the universe does not care about your love life.

i’m not sad. i’m pissed off.

you say too many things you don’t mean.

i’ve thought a lot about dying. i’ve gotten used to that. but i don’t like to be afraid.

sometimes when i’m angry, i want to hurt people.

i’m worried that i’m not real.

all you can do is have an advantage, and this is mine. it’s all i have.

what i did is not the worst crime in the world.

given everything, can’t i get a tiny break?

why? what’s so special about me?

are we going to fight each other over food? that’s fucking crazy.

you can live wherever you want, just not with me.

we should get some food, before it’s all gone.

what if things don’t go back to the way they were?

don’t give me a fucking speech. you have no idea.

i guess i can learn to get along with a few more people.

what’s so hard about being honest with yourself?

it’s been ten days. i’m not the same person i was.

if there are things that need to be done, i want to do them.

there are no sides anymore.

you’re the best decision i’ve ever made.

we’re the same. you have to stick with your own.

i’m scared, and i have to take care of myself.

i live in your shadow, and now you suddenly want to disappear?

you know that you’re the love of my life? and whatever comes after this.

if this is it, this is where i want to be. i mean not here, but with you. you’re where i want to be.

i was a different person before we fell in love.

thank you. for loving me. 

right now, we could use all the love we can get. 

you get scared, and you get mean.

is this how you want to spend the time you have left? always looking over your shoulder?

you’re giving me a headache instead of having my back.

it’s just, sometimes i know what i want, i just don’t know how to say it.

the only feelings that anyone cares about are yours. 

people keep dying around me.

i feel really lucky to have you. you’re my rock.

the end is none of your business.

i like you exactly the way you are.

i’m so sick of feeling different from everyone else.

after “fuck you,” i don’t have much.

i think about you too much.

i don’t think about you.

i’m not scared. i’m just realistic.

it feels like i’ve been starting forever.

no one cares about the best player on the worst team.

i’m tired of losing. i just don’t know what to do.

that’s hopelessly romantic. and this isn’t hopeless.

i haven’t been happy all year. why start now?

i’m sorry i can’t turn off my feelings whenever you want.

seems like everything i do hurts your feelings.

i care about you. i just don’t know how to prove it.

i like who i am in your eyes. i like how you see me.

i’m not sure i like myself in a relationship.

i’m way easier to replace.

when it ends, it’ll hurt.

the right thing is just to be here with you.

death is not beautiful, it’s final.

i keep failing everyone, and i don’t know what to do.

i don’t feel sad. i feel numb.

i ask people if they’re all right too much.

you never needed me. you needed someone.

i made myself sick to make you feel better.

this whole time i thought it was dying, but it’s living what scares you

you’re afraid to commit, and i need constant validation. 

you don’t belong here. not after what you did.

there is no mystery here. nothing to avenge.

i made a wish, and it came true, and i couldn’t take it back.

he was a bad person and a worse father. the world is better off without him.

you never know when to stop, do you?

you do whatever it takes to survive. or you die.

you think i didn’t try everything to get back to my family?

[sewinrat]

What if the reader is Randal's twin sister that is always calm and quiet but yet more intimidating than the rest of the ivory household and is always abusing or scaring Sebastian?

It's just something I made up in my head! 😭

Only if you have the chance to do so, of course!

Hey I know I disappeared but I'm going to break my own rule to give you all content

*Reader implied to be female. Also this will not be a fic, just those headcanons thingy

Being Randal's More Intimidating Twin Sister;

Goodness, Randal would never have a boring day if he decides to watch your torture sessions daily

He definitely doesn't like how quiet you are but Nyen and Nyon are the same and he doesn't have a not-fun day watching them so he lets it be. But he's definitely forcing you everywhere with him. You are his twin after all and two is better than one as the humans say!

Clothing wise I'd say a Japanese school girl outfit with blazer and wearing gloves to match Randal's outfit. Honestly it doesn't matter what you want to wear as long as the colour is inverted of Randal's. White outfit and black gloves. You wear glasses but most often contact lenses. The feeling of them intrigued you but glasses are also usually a hindrance in your day to day activities.

The day when Luther gifted the both of you a human pet, you are ecstatic. Your face doesn't show but Randal knows and he's ecstatic as electric as well. Both of you have the dynamic of Maud and Pinkie that's why he can tell. The day after that is the day Sebastian the human pet learns true fear.

You are unnerving and rightfully so. Especially when you keep chasing after him with those garden shears. If Randal has scissors, you have bigger scissors. You like to snip snip Sebastian's body parts. Hair, legs, hand, you get the point. You won't necessarily kill him on purpose, only by accident but Luther will stop you when Sebastian's at the brink of death. Which he wished for more than escaping after weeks upon weeks of torture. Too bad Randal is enjoying this too much which encourages your behaviour.

More often than not, Luther had to tell you to clean up your mess after you finish your fun activity. He doesn't encourage it but he doesn't stop you as well because in his words, who is he to stop his little sister discovering her hobbies and enjoying them.

Two peas in a pod the both of you. It doesn't matter how different you both are, you're still twins. If anyone knows anything about twins, is that somehow they have a deeper bond than with anyone else around them. If you mess with one of them, you have to deal with the other or together if you wanna get messy.

Nyen won't say it out loud obviously but he much prefers you over Randal if we're talking about violence and perfect fit to be the next heir if it ever comes to that. I mean obviously because we're speaking the American cat here. If he's 'lucky', you might spar him one on one. Nyon on the other hand definitely avoids you like the plague. Not a fighter and definitely does not want to be your next experiment but too bad for him, you're still above him in ranks.

Satoru won't favour you more than Randal but he'll definitely ask for your help to make him 'real' to which you happily complied. Remember that spider girl in Vol.2 and Avalona Mercury? Yeah they're your besties. Don't ask how but they just naturally are. Unless you're someone who seeks to pursue a relationship with one of them which I guess go off. No one really cares.

Known as well as the ratmen's worst nightmare. They wish to never come across you ever or else they're better off as a taxidermy head on top of a fireplace. Even if there's a slight chance they'll be let off uninjured, there's a high chance they'll end up getting owned or dead.

Wednesday Addams kinnie I just realised but hey maybe that's what you wanted.

Randal would definitely dragged you into his own mess by making you dress up as him and take the blame. Sometimes you let him do whatever he wants, other times he ends up bloodied.

Ranfren Characters thoughts on You(ooc);

Randal: "You've met my twin?! Oo! Oo! How are they?! Did you have fun with her?! She's really fun to play with especially with those shears of hers!" Excited to rant about his twin. Get comfortable or not because he can go on and on and on.

Luther: "Ah yes. She's quite a delight isn't she? I just wish she wouldn't leave such a bloody mess everywhere and anywhere she wants but oh well~ I can't stop her from enjoying what she loves doing." Dismissive yet acknowledged. Just don't get blood on the new carpet or curtains and you're good like you're avoiding angering your mother too much but brother instead.

Nyen: "Would love to fight against once. With her next in line, everything will definitely turn for the worst but it'll be very fun." Nothing else to say except he gives more respects to you than to Randal but won't admit it.

Nyon: Like I said, avoids you like the plague. It got to the point where he can't come up with an opinion on you because his mind goes automatically to 'avoid her alert'. That's not to say he hates you, he could never hate his master's family, he just rather not be under your torture sessions.

Sebastian: "Please don't tell me she's behind me." Shivering scared little thing. He likes his limbs to be intact 24/7 of course so even by the mention of you have his thoughts rapidly flashed the flight or fight instinct. But it's only flight no fight. He's not that bold.

Bonus! Tsukada Satoru: "Randal's twin is nice. She helps me when I needed her most especially when it comes to hurting. Glad to see her interacting well with those two." He's too much focused on Randal to care but since you're Randal's other half, his literal twin, he has to care enough about you.

[zafulz]

Regarding SotE's ending.

Spoilers ahead, rant.

I'm a dissappointed on the fandom always wanting to take sides for the most nuanced narratives ever written in games, sometimes it feels like we play different games at all. They want to excuse other demigods and put the blame on the ones who wanted to changed the status quo, when we all should realize how the Greater Will and the Outer Gods had influence and have been the ones to actually be playing chess with their tragic fates. Radahn and Morgott wanted to keep and perpetuate Marika's / Golden Order rule, Miquella, Ranni and Rykard wanted to get rid of all the Gods (using the Stars/Moon, destroying gods or becoming God themselves), and Mogh, Malenia and Godwyn had their fates taken by Outer Gods/Plots. They were all played and incited by the horrors of Marika, under the Greater Will. Remember that Marika shattered the Elden Ring to rebel against the Greater Will due to all the grief and most recently Godwyn's death, so we can guess she realized too late.

Then, it surprises me how easy we are to label Miquella as a villain without taking all that into the equation. The game changers, following up Ranni's statements, were only Miquella, Malenia (as she was almost ready to become a goddess even before Miquella), and her. Ranni, probably the one who knew all of Marika's record and was already done with the situation of her family and the Lands Between, started this first with killing Godwyn. Miquella just could not keep at delaying the facts during the time he tried to revive his brother and revert his twin curse, leading to despising the Greater Will and deciding to ascend having learned the horrors of the Lands of Shadow and the current state of the Lands Between. The actions taken by them can't be honestly judged at certain human moral standpoint, since we are talking of literal demigods, SOME of them supporting the current status quote where Omens, Demi Humans, Albinaurics, Giants where OBLITERATED to keep the Golden Order's rule. The DLC covers the process in which Miquella decided to walk the same path as Marika, probably for similar "better world" goals, but Marika just followed the Greater Will. Miquella decided to become a god and strip himself from all essence, without any guidance. Is not a mending rune to keep the Elden Ring somehow. The story trailer show us how Marika called the Greater Will, now dried up after thousands of sacrifices, Miquella becomes a God by stripping himself of what attaches him to the world (reminds me of Tales of Symphonia, where Colette is loosing all senses to become an angel or the Avatar State) St. Trina asks us to kill him, because she understood this path will only create another Greater Will-like God, no feelings, just cold stare and control, a caged god.

Now, somethings that aren't clear is how the affection compelling powers works. Miquella shattered his own rune knowing this would remove his "charm" from others. Why he did that? What's the vow Radahn and Miquella made? The cutscene crystal clear shows Miquella is afraid of becoming a god, but taking that decision on this vow.

Probably a fight with Malenia before becoming Lord. Whispered this part on his ear like normal.

A LOT of information is missing, but the point was that there are no " villains" in this game, BUT THE GODS. It is a Man vs God narrative that is very nuanced. Thanks for your time.

Ps. Did you notice this?

Grace and the Gods influence reflect in the eyes. Messmer is final proof of it when he breaks his Grace and Serpent appears isntead, or Miquella showing up with eyes shut, becoming a God himself. Ranni Melina I wish we could have more dialog options and reactions from what we did in this DLC :')

[dr-spectre]

I think that it's now more important than ever to keep making art.

Whether it's some scribbles on a piece of a paper, paint on a canvas, typing out erotic fanfiction about two cephalopod women, i need you to keep going. OKAY?!

Keep going at your own pace. Don't feel like you have to "grind" to achieve success, you're probably young as hell, you don't need to become a masculine obsessed fucking nutjob that is so obsessed with "discipline" and all this bullshit. Sure "discipline" is cool but... That shit takes a LONG TIME to develop and it only comes with experimentation and see what you believe in and what you enjoy. Don't get.... heh...... heh heh..... BRAINWASHED!!! by women hating bald bastards online who wanna turn you into a fun hating robot that's all about "work work work." Fuck them.

You are a human with flesh, blood, bones, a heart and a brain. You are not a machine. Got it?

Anyways, in talks of art, i wanna give my own sort of help for my writer friends out there! I thought it would be fun and plus, there's too many damn writing tips out there that boil down to "you HAVE to do this thing, you HAVE to follow this structure" and i think that is bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit that gives you more stress than needed. You know how many boring mid action movies come out that follow the hero's journey? The three act structure? The story circle? It is better to just make shit and learn what you could do for next time.

There are no rules, all of the "rules of storytelling" are just optional suggestions that you can either take or leave. Plus it seems like every fucking YouTuber has a different set of rules that conflict with each other anyways. However, I wanna share my own sort of "basic ass fundamentals of stories" that can fit into any story structure you want! I got these guidelines from the YouTube channel The Closer Look. I like their content, it's very insightful.

Here's Dr. Spectre's basic ass fundamentals for stories.

Characters. Simple, a story must have characters otherwise you are making something else that is not a story.

Progression. Is there a sense of progression? Does it feel like for every second of story it isn't stagnating or getting dull and boring? Does it feel like shit is happening and growing? If it feels boring to read for you, then it's gonna be boring for another person reading it. Progression could be plot based or character based and them growing as the story goes on. Doesn't matter which one, can be both or one. Good stories never feel like they are staying the same or spinning their wheels.

Delivery (Aka. Setup and payoff). Do you deliver on the promises in the story? And do you deliver them in a way where the audience after they finishing reading or watching, they felt like it was all worthwhile and they didn't waste time consuming your story.

Everything else? IT'S OPTIONAL!!! COMPLETLY OPTIONAL! YOU KNOW HOW MANY STORIES BREAK THE "RULES"?! Do not become reliant and dependent on these "rules" because it'll slow your development and discourage experimentation. Not every story is gonna fucking follow the Save The Cat format.

There is also the talk of theme and i will say this.

Theme is not "this story is about sex, drugs, greed." No. Theme is a message or argument, it is not a word, it is something you are trying to say via a story. People don't have to agree with the theme, but it must make people think about it. If your story is about sex, what is it trying to say about sex? That sex is a scary thing and that it's okay to feel scared and worried about your first time? What are you trying to say about greed? Etc. Etc.

I read through a Sonic comic recently that everyone loves called Scrapnik Island and guess what? I fucking love that comic too.

Scrapnik Island isn't truly about Sonic and Tails getting stuck on an island and Mecha Sonic is there and he becomes evil and does all this stuff. No, what it's ACTUALLY about is that your worth as a person isn't determined by successes and failures, Mecha Sonic feels like he is worthless and is a failure because he not only failed to kill Sonic, but also failed to help his friends on Scrapnik Island. However, Sonic snaps him out of that bullshit mindset and it's truly, truly wonderful stuff.

Splatoon 2: Octo Expansion isn't truly about Agent 8 being trapped in a facility and defeating an evil ai. It talks about racism and what does it talk about specifically? That it doesn't matter what someone looks like, as long as they are a good person that's all that matters. That life is varied and beautiful and it's worth protecting from those who wish to destroy it.

There's a reason why Agent 8 takes the time to soak in the fresh air and sunlight near the end of Octo Expansion, why Eight has memcakes to collect and we see their thoughts and wishes. it's there to explore that theme, that idea of what the story is truly about.

Splatoon as a franchise is about how wonderful creativity itself is, that art and life are connected and grow together and are important and deserved to be protected. Commander Tartar, Mr. Grizz and Overlorder are all opposed to that idea and that's why they are the antagonists. DJ Octavio less so because he is trying to save his own culture and art, even as to go far as manipulating a mentally ill Callie who was already growing distain and tiredness from her own culture, so it just so happens that these two chaotic forces share the same ideology.

Now, I wanna say, do you NEED a theme to make a story? No. BUT! If you don't have something to say and that connective tissue, then it's gonna weaken everything else and the action, plot and characters have to be fucking top notch. The "Rule of Cool" only works when... you know.... it's cool? And well done?

Anyways, I've rambled long enough. Please keep making art, please? Especially now considering what has happened. I need you to hold onto hope, hold onto creativity and fun. You must. You have to...

Be good people.

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

CH2-12 thoughts (spoilers, I guess. You probably shouldn't be in the tag if you haven't finished the episode though.)

So! DRDT is officially back, and wow what a way to begin the rollercoaster we'll be put through the next few weeks. This episode was amazing, and I wanted to discuss my thoughts on it in a more detailed form. This episode gave us a lot of character moments that I want to at least mention, so let's get into it? Before we do though, I want to say that through these posts, I will be updating two things and showing them at the beginning and end First one being the swear statistics! It became a thing after my previous rewatch that every time a character swears, I count it, and I want to continue doing that for the rest of the series if I can so manage it.

^ current swear statistics as of CH2-11

And the second being...drumroll please!

My own personal DRDT CH2-Part 2 bingo card! If something on this list happens in CH2-Part 2, I'll check it off. Hopefully I can get a bingo or two in here, especially since, spoilers, two of the boxes have already been checked. But with all of that preamble out of the way, let's begin shall we? I’m going to cover the character moments we got in separate categories of the well…characters, rather than in order, for the sake of being concise.

Arturo

First and foremost, “Shut your whore mouth” made me scream at the top of my lungs. God I wish that was voiced. But more importantly, the thing about Arturo being very young for a plastic surgeon actually being addressed was not something I expected, especially so early. But I definitely appreciate the nuggets of Arturo backstory. Funny enough, his situation sounds very similar to Min’s in some regard, especially this line

(x) Arturo: I was only able to get this far in such a short amount of time because I specialized in plastic surgery, and nothing else. I neglected everything that wasn't immediately relevant to my goals.

This absolutely plays a factor into his relationship with his little sister. It more than likely was not just him leaving that made her commit suicide, but perhaps also years of neglect. And if she really felt like she couldn't live a life without Arturo in it, it's safe to say that their parents probably weren't the best either. The more I learn about Arturo and his homelife the more worried I am for him and especially his sister.

Veronika

Veronika didn't get much besides being her usual self, but I gave her a category because I wanted to point out two things One, Veronika calling Arturo cute. That just made me smile

And secondly, this line right here

(x) Veronika: Oh, and don't say something as boring as "I want to kill myself." I have no interest in such mundane reasons.

This is so fucked up and awful and gross and I absolutely love her for it. I just know she's going to get worse, I hope she does.

And also the fact that she apparently finds suicide to be inherently boring is very interesting, given the fact that she more than likely has the self-harm secret.

Whit

I know he didn't have much, if any major role in this episode but...listen I missed him. So much. You have actually zero idea how much I missed him and his goofiness... But also I can't believe that was the explanation for the dent in the computer lab that's been bugging me for months. Well played DT-Dev... (though the fact that Whit got away with breaking a rule solely because MonoTV thought it was funny is a bit fishy...it's almost like he's the MASTERMIND-- /hj)

We also in general got a lot of Charles and Whit moments, which I always like to see I don't think there's anything else to cover when it comes to Wh--

(x) David: Ugh! Goddamn it, Whit, does everything you say have to be made into some shitty dumb joke?! You're actually really fucking annoying! Shut the fuck up!!

...Well, when I said I wanted more Whitvid interactions I guess this can serve as a reward. ...guys dont worry this is how we can still wi--

Levi

...I mean, what else is there to say really?

No but actually I'll talk. This is what we've been theorizing for a year, and I actually had it in my predictions that Levi's secret was going to be the one revealed in this episode. But I did not expect it right at the end, nor did I expect it to be so sudden. And I don't think Levi has any reason to lie either, so I think this is his actual secret. Seeing him lose confidence and apologize for his unhelpfulness kind of stung to me, honestly. Levi has been trying to help the group since the very beginning, and that has only amplified since the start of Chapter 2. So seeing him...basically give up was very upsetting He is definitely going to be in the hot seat next week's episode and I am very excited for it, hopefully we get some insight on his past as well and...maybe a levi and nico interaction? please dt-dev? please? :>

Hu

FishyFried, as always, knocked it out of the fucking park with Hu's voice acting, and her monologue towards David was just as amazing...if not a bit terrifying, as it directly parallels with her hidden quote

I want to pay for what I’ve done. But even then, I still want to live.

I think I've said this before, but I adore David and Hu's dynamic and how both of them tackle the themes of change in their own ways, how both of them project onto the people around them to fulfill their own desires due to being stagnant in their own growth as people, it's so much fun, and I can't wait to see how this continues to develop in the later chapters I am sincerely a ch5victim!david + ch5killer!hu believer at the end of the day.

Teruko

Oh Teruko, quite a bit to discuss with you today.

For starters, her genuinely feeling embarrassed and upset upon realizing what she did wrong, apologizing for it, and (how I interpreted it anyway) beginning to realize that working alone and not accepting help from others is starting to bite her in the ass? That was not what I expected. I really did think that Teruko was going to get worse before she got better, but maybe she's improving a lot quicker than I thought (...let's hope she doesn't backslide again though, especially if the culprit is who I think it is) Also.

If I have to live with this knowledge, so the-fuck do you. And then there's her argument with David, which I already made a post about, but I want to add onto it by saying that the performances from Swords and LuucarIi here are absolutely phenomenal. One of my favorite voice acted scenes in the entire series. I have replayed Teruko's "Hah! Based on what?!" probably around 20 times and I will repeat it 20 times more because the delivery gives me actual chills. This fangan has such an amazing voice cast oh my god it's insane.

David

Oh. You are such a broken, broken man, and you are absolutely going to go down the Simon Laurent route. I actually don't have a lot to add when it comes to David's actual motivations for his actions, I think a lot of us theorized that he was trying to kill everyone and himself. But the main thing I want to talk about is the Xander shit because oh my god this man is Down Fucking Horrendous. I mentioned all the way back in this post that David idolizes Xander just as much as Xander idolizes him. What I didn't expect was for him to still be clinging onto the hope Xander gave him and trying to follow in his footsteps, and being borderline possessive over the damn dead man. Xander may have idolized David, but David is obsessed with Xander and what he represents to him. And he is willing to ruin his reputation, reliability, and dignity in pursuit of what he thinks is right. Not to mention, it puts the Tally5 image in a whole new light.

Though I still think these words apply to the very possible revolution that David, Xander, and Mai enacted towards Hope's Peak, a theory that has become even more credible after this episode, I also think these lines portray David's thought process during his actions in CH2-11 and his motivation for doing the things that he does. David calling Xander "the only good person he's ever known" is very, very telling when you consider what he personally thinks makes someone a bad person (lazy, useless, stupid). And that makes me upset. Xander and David's relationship will never not be absolutely fascinating to me. ...alSO DAVID APPARENTLY HAS MEMORIES FROM HOPE'S PEAK??? APPARENTLY??? Like am I reading that right or do I just have bad media literacy. How...How does he??? WHY does he??? Why did he say he didn't know who Xander was in the prologue???? I am very confused and I'm sure it will all be answered. Extra Thoughts !! - we got 7:30 AM confirmation, woohoo!! And the bonus of Arei swinging when she was first found was such a good detail and I’m surprised none of us noticed it, honestly. With that confirmation, that leaves basically everyone else (minus J, David, Veronika, Hu, and Nico) in the hot-seat. - the multitude of new sprites we got were so amazing, especially David's - Apparently everything that happened in the second half of CH2-11 was in the span of two hours?! Sheesh, the editing crew on the TV show must be working overtime. Hopefully they get a paycheck and its not just MonoTV who gets paid. - If I had any doubt in my brain that Eden was the culprit it has basically dissipated with this episode. I really do not know who else it could be other than her. three of the five main suspects other than her have basically been cleared up, either through alibi (J and Hu) or though plot (Levi) David and Nico are also cleared from suspicion Though there isn't really any plot or evidence reason to necessarily exclude Rose, given her moment in CH2-8 and, let's be honest, this murder being way too physically complicated for someone as lethargic as her to commit, I'm inclined to believe she is not And every other character has something that's clearly being set up to be further explored in Chapter 3 (Charles, Whit, Ace, Arturo, and Veronika) Like... even if you don't think Eden is the culprit, you can't deny that she's the odd one out here. I still think Accomplice!Levi is true, but I also truthfully think the culprit can't be anyone other than Eden - If I were to give one I-guess critique though, not just on this episode but on the trial as a whole, it's that we are four trial episodes in and there has been very, very little focus on the actual murder mystery itself. We have barely even covered 80% of the evidence. This isn't like, a huge problem for me specifically because I very much watch DRDT for the astounding character writing over the murder mysteries, and I definitely think that the lack of focus on the case is worth the amazing character moments we got in this episode. But I can see it really bothering some people, and there's a part of me that can't help but be a bit afraid that the actual solving of the murder case is going to hit the audience with a bunch of information at once and come across as a bit rushed due to the lack of focus it's had so far. I trust that DT-Dev is cooking though, and it'll probably be a lot more cohesive once we have the full trial to look through.

Predictions for CH2-13 - Like I said before, Levi is going to become the main suspect easily thanks to his secret reveal. I know Ace is going to be on his ass especially, because in his mind it would basically confirm the image he has already conjured up of Levi in his mind as a violent brute who is going to snap his neck any second. J is also going to jump to conclusions because that's just what she does, and she was already concerned about the murderer secret to begin with. - Furthermore, I think most of this episode is going to entail Teruko trying to disprove that Levi could've been the culprit. Considering the fact that there, well, isn't much evidence to suggest he didn't, maybe this episode will feature this chapter's Random Guess minigame. - I highly doubt we're getting an AM VS PM scrum debate now, but maybe we'll get one on whether or not Levi is the culprit? Maybe? - On the topic of trial minigames, I hope we get another nonstop debate, it's been like three episodes since we've had one lmao - Nico is either going to defend Levi, or reiterate the speech that J gave them in CH2-9. Either way, I hope this reveal causes them to interact it would be so interesting - We are on a track-record of having at least one person's secret exposed every trial episode. Considering the fact that Xander and Min are dead, and I do not think Teruko's secret will come out until the end of the chapter, that really only leaves Hu and Veronika...which is interesting, as they are both in the clear for being the culprit. Hu has already had multiple moments to shine in this trial, so I think its more likely that Veronika's secret will be the one getting revealed. How that happens, I am unsure. But I think Veronika will be the next person to have her secret revealed.

Conclusion Overall, I think this episode was amazing and a great way to kick off the end of the hiatus. I can already tell that these next few weeks are going to be a wild ride for us DRDT fans, but we're all in this together, so I think everything's going to be fine (nothing is going to be fine.)

UPDATED SWEAR STATISTICS: CH2-12

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