#and having the authority to say “i would like to do this” and being totally allowed to do it (within ethical boundaries ofc ofc 😌😌😌)

[scopophobia-polaris]

So, to add on to Navi's post, because her whole read for the original was getting screenshots from the game to debunk what was said, of course....we are now here. I want to tell you that no one here disagreed with your conclusion about Ganondorf being a victim. What we here disagreed with was the method you used to get there. Simplifying Ganondorf down to solely good or solely evil is something this Fandom does all the time with little to no nuance. And even though you have written an eloquent essay, Published even! You twisted or outright made up parts of the game to get to your conclusion. In essay writing, that's called a logical fallacy, and the whole essay either twists what happens in the game or outright gets it wrong.

Now people are probably gonna wonder why I'm treating this like a big deal or why I'm speaking so blunt, because this is by all means very stupid fandom drama.

But I think when you're a college prof and you get an essay published and it's online for people to read everywhere without you, one, not giving the context behind Ganondorf's creation and the coding of his appearance and motivations, two the complexities of a corporate conglomerate in a notoriously socially conservative country taking aesthetics from countries who were historically colonized. And Three, The way that video games are a collaborative effort with usually no singular vision, this is very true at nintendo despite what people may think, and at any moment changes can be made for any reason by team leads or executives that would hinder or even hurt a story. It detrimental to the audience reading it that you do not provide them more of a couple of screenshots

Basically, many things go into a story and now I'm taking this more from a DOYLIST view right here talking about Nintendo. But I'm doing this because you keep trying to say..... well fuck man do I need to pull up more examples? Navi got them all, the whole essay is you trying HEAVILY to imply that Nintendo MEANT to do all of this, as in intentional in the story, idk I feel crazy, words have meaning, specific wording has implication, oh and this dosent even get into how localization can change things 😃😀 wording has meaning and sometimes translators don't have cultural contexxxtttttttt and to not even mention about Nintendo's history or even the short hand that comes from Ganondorf's design and the historical Orientalism behind it feels like a disservice to the paper, but much more qualified people then I have discussed the way Ganondorf is written and probably would love to discuss or link to previous writing again if asked.

And this is a cold take but Nintendo isn’t the place you should be looking to for deep story telling, they will always be a corporate entity first and the bottom line is a general audience, this does not mean JUST KIDS this means to a generalized population. And this is extremely cynical but a lot of people cant even handle the complexity of a female character who is mean, like Midna, do you really think people would handle a Ganondorf like how he is in Tp being portrayed in any form of film language as good????? This game dropped 5 years after 9/11, Nintendo was never gonna lose out in money like that.

And Dude people have given so much shit to HUGE fanartists and comic authors about their work portraying Ganondorf in a sympathetic light, you would of thunk more people would of picked up on Ganondorf's story being written as tragedy if there was something in the game that actually DID that. Maybe they would of written a blog post about how Midna saw Link kill Ganondorf and was ashamed of that or Ganondorf TOTALLY said the history of light and shadow will be written in blood thing before the final battle, you think people would of talked about huh why did Ganondorf say that there or something and maybe went 🤔 instead of it being argued that Tp Ganondorf had the weakest writing of the series until TotK threw a pile of flaming shit at my door with a picture of Ganondorf on it.

Navi also goes in depth on how Hyrule has not exactly stagnated like what was claimed in History of Light and Shadow by using the Goron merchants and Yeto as examples.

Rynling has stated that the cause of the stagnation and decline is due to an ineffectual leader that has "Not allowed its people to be revitalized by change and diversity."

Now I am familiar with the flaws of an undetermined national unity, I am very familiar with the subject, but I’m not going to speak like an authority. Id rather let someone much more qualified make that post and I link back to it, because i know its coming. But Navi said in her post that the idea of what could of happened at Arbiter's Grounds can completely blow over someone's head if they didn't play OoT first, and I think more or less this is accurate, certain things are lost in Wind Waker even with the recaps, but I wanna join in on this in my own way...

Rynling....you may say Hyrule has been on a decline during Tp......you may even think OoT had a more stable Hyrule or some shit.....i THINK YOU FORGOT ABOUT THE PLOT OF OCARINA OF TIME BAYBEEEEEEE

THE SUPPLEMENTAL MATERIAL THAT I CAN PULL UP TO PROVE MY SHIT ABOUT OOT HYRULE BEING DOG SHIT IN COMPARISON TO TP

Like if you're seriously gonna link me and Navi to your essay then I am about to go full BTW it's a Sativa and eat that bitch after midnight cuZ we YELLIN ABOUT OCARINA OF TIME ON THIS POST FOR EVERYONE🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

All of Ocarina of Time's narrative is haunted by the civil war, the whole reason why Link is being raised in the woods is cuz of the civil war, the Sheikah are implied to have died out during the same conflict, and well its said that Hyrule was unified during it

Civil War yet the translators use unified the country like it WASNT under a sole ruler before? Hello? I need to go back through the Japanese script for the game again to see if i missed something of the game and freak it harder. And do realize the Deku sprout in this screenshot says fierce war but every where else, including the Zelda wiki (not fandom) its CIVIL War.

The Gate to Death mountain and Simultaniously the fence at Zora's river gives us and idea that peace was....tenuous at best downright hostile at worse given relations with the Gerudo

so today we gonna do some fun comparing and contrasting the Gorons and how they are treated in OoT to TP

and we gonna start with his racist ass BHJBHDBHKCJW

I mean, damn remmeber how mad Darunia is at Link for being the supposed royal family messenger? Link Unlocking the door to Darunia's room with Zelda's lullaby, I think it's a little funny that Darunia is hung up , you know, like he knows this is some disrespectful shit

Hey wannna hear some shit? The gates at the edge of death mountain aren't guarded by Gorons and were not built by them you can tell, the only way to visit the mountain is to get permission from the King to go up and not from the people that actually live there

God and like, there is something about the way Darunia locks himself in his room, like he does it to keep the ruby safe from all the other Gorons being so hungry that he's frightened they're gonna eat it, he doesn't know what to do on how to act about the Dodongos that Ganondorf summon on him for not giving over that rock. It qlmost sounds like when Ganondorf came in and Threatened Darunia, and that he (Darunia) sent a message to the royal family asking for help, why else would he be expecting someone to come meet with him?

"If I'm not mistaken, you came out here to eat the red stone too! Well, too bad! It's not here! What? That's not why you're here? You're looking for a "Spiritual Stone?" You must mean that delicious-looking red stone that was once displayed above the city! I was so hungry that I thought it would be OK to just give it one tiny, little lick...so I snuck up there. But it was already gone! I think Big Brother took it away. He always says that everyone is after that red stone! Big Brother has shut himself up in his room saying, "I will wait in here for the Royal Family's messenger!" this is a quote from the Goron that you can find on the middle of the rope bridge thing in Goron city.

Yeah so he sent a letter or something and no one answered yeesh.

contrast this all with TP where OH LOOKS WHO'S GUARDING DEATH MOUNTAIN

so in TP spoilers, this happens

Kakariko is more connected then ever! Renado here is wondering what the hell is going on with their FRIENDS. And yeah the Goron elder Gor Coron is trying to keep the last few people from kakariko left safe, and other Gorons, i mean, theyre keeping a piece of the fused shadow in there. also the way that entry into the temple goes in this game is cute, Darunia was freaking it cuz everyone is starving, but here Link wrestles his way up a mountain to ask the Gron elder whats happening since he was asked to come here by Renado, Gor Coron goes DAMN

unless......?

IDK ITS LIKE? ITS SILLY? Idk Hyrule isnt the best place but why try and act like this doesnt happen during TP?

so where am i getting at with this? the hell was going on back during OoT? If things are so odd and weirdly tense with the gates gaurds and non responses

"As time passed, the Triforce became a legend, and the different people of Hyrule forgot the laws and wisdom that the goddesses had left behind. Warfare and strife became common in Hyrule, as the armies of the Zora marched on the Hylians. The Gorons fought the Gerudo. It seemed every race of Hyrule was at the other's throat. Only the secluded Kokiri, sheltered by their magical forest and the Great Deku Tree, were spared the destruction of Hyrule's civil wars.

After 50 years of ceaseless combat, there arose a Hylian King of great wisdom, courage and power. Through his brilliant military campaigns and wise diplomacy, he was able to bring the varied people of Hyrule into a tenuous harmony. Treaties of peace were signed, and prosperity once again seemed to bloom in Hyrule. But no sooner had people declared peace in Hyrule than trouble once again stalked the land."

Tenuous Harmony, could you imagine if they dropped a line like this in Creating a champion? The tumblr side of the fandom would go fucking nuts with that info like OHHHHH SHIT WAS GOING ONNNNNN

This was ALL on the offical Nintendo Zelda website back when oot was the big game out, we have this cuz someone saved it to the wayback, THIS SCREENSHOT WAS FROM DECEMBER 14TH 2001, ABOUT A FULL YEAR AND A DAY UNTIL WIND WAKER WAS RELEASED IN JAPAN. THAT'S INSANE RIGHT???? ‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

And then it all probably got deleted once wind waker became the new thing!!! Or when they wanted to modernize and deleted it!!! THAT SUCKS RIGHT????

And what's worse is that it introduces some new info and also clarifies something. Hey you know when I made that post like damn Darunia racist as hell

"Warfare and strife became common in Hyrule, as the armies of the Zora marched on the Hylians. The Gorons fought the Gerudo."

NO WHERE IN THE GAME THE LEGEND OF ZELDA OCARINA OF TIME IT SAYS THIS, IT DOES NOT STATE THERE WAS CONFLICT BETWEEN THE GORONS AND GERUDO.....LIKE DIN GET YA KIDS.....IM LOOKING EVERYWHERE FOR SOMETHING I MUST OF MISSED.

But Like oh hey a fucking explanation to why he just fucking says that, I figure it was cuz of Ganondorf trying to almond mom all of them or that he kept talking to the King and well.....Navi already showed the GENERAL reaction to the Gerudo in castle town.

it went from oh hes just racist to dARUNIA AND GANONDORF HAVE HISTORY????

But the interesting one is why did thy Zora "marched on the Hylians."

Like sitting here like, I know a comic made in Germany shouldn't be a be all end all in shit I knew it never was and it would like. If you put this in warrior cats canonicoty categorization would be considered lower down supplementary material dubious canon, but their are things in the comic AND the Himekawa manga that behinds some behind the scenes actions given that LINK'S MOM HAS A MOSTLY CONSISTENT DESIGN WHAT THE HELLLLLLLL. And I always thought the Goron Zora war thing was stupid but Nintendo then had that out on their website, what the hell was going ON.

Because idk i didnt think much of Zora De Bon XVI and the Hyrulien King's relationship but

Now a days the Zelda website is much different and does not have lore pages like this anymore, it's more like a summary of the timeline. But yeah actually Nintendo approved shit, Hylian/Zora war.

Hyrule is progressing, its just going slowly, Hyrule is not AS stifled by its monarchy or a lack of integration during TP because Hyrule IS integrating, is people's are intermingling like is hasn't before during this game.

And this isn't even to get started on the E3 demo of Twilight princess that the trip that Link is supposed to take at the beginning of the game was to be the representative of Ordon at the "Hyrule summit

and Hyrule is described in a VERY specific way

Kingdom of Hyrule and neighboring realms? like theyre all not under the crown? so like???? FUN, that didn't end up making it in the game. the dailouge that is, But the remints is still there in the way the game is made up, like how OoT is built off is civil war bones

actually funny, Navi just got me screenshots of the way the dialouge was changed here

Like stuff clearly changed during the demo and finished game, I should of been touching more on the intricacies of how like shit was just change for no reason sometimes but uh....

But maybe @rawliverandgoronspice would want to one day like about games industry stuff if you ever want to 😭 I know you're super passionate on this and I wish I like even off hand mentioned something about how like TP is also effected by how games are made but I didn't and I'm a fool but games are complicated as hell and that post you made talking a bit about it was fun ya know 👉👈 and the Beta of Tp changes a LOT of stuff, one Rusl really is like a brother to link in the way he messes with him, it actually makes some weird Nintendo licensed shit saying hes like a big brother to Link made WAYYYYY more since with the Beta in mind, but....that also mean they tried to keep the big bro vibes....but then put the dad ones in there too like.....uh...did..someone not change his summary anywhere?

that was my big thing i wanted to talk about, navi's already touched on everything else i just think the parallels here between the Goron quest between OoT and TP changes in such a nice way.

And like this doesn't get into other shit about TP, like if we wanna deep dive into shit ya don't gotta do it by twisting the story, like I was going and talking to @blackautmedia to ask with some help when it came to like.......god idk what i even said anymore i was going a mile a minute. He wants to write his own thing on Twilight princess so im not gonna step on his toes but he has recommended Arabs and Muslims in the Media: Race and Representation after 9/11 by Evelyn Alsultany, the link I provided here is too her website and her page on the book this link here is from her own site that has a pdf of a part American Quarterly with a paper by the same name.

Anyways i wanna reflex for a moment cuz ive been up for hours finishing this because my brain wont stop unless i do. But the thing that by all means started this, was not your reblog linking me and Navi to your essay, or that there is 2 versions i found out where the paper published one had a lot more context to why you wrote your tumblr post the way you did, Navi helped me get the parts that were cut, please realize removing these does not remove the sentiment from the essay, its baked in.

fanfic, its a popular Fan interpretation that there was fighting between the Gerudo and Hylians after Ganondorf was caught trying to take the triforce, but this is not stated to of happened in the lore itself or even has evidence to back it up other then the Implications of Arbiter's grounds theory

UGHHHH AND THIS AGAIN "Twilight Princess Delivers a subtle yet poignant protest against neoliberal discourses of empire reflected in the rhetoric of heroism inform the geopolitical movements of Japan throught the twentieth century"

WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOUT......

i dont mean this in a stupid ass way, im saying where the hell was about the protest thing, wait i really shouldt take from the published one cuz you actually dumbed down the line for tumblr

anyways again, where, Navi made it clear enough with her own post that, no, the way that Ganondorf is animated has no sympathy for him until the light is literally leaving him. Hell Twilight princess inst very kind to the gerudo either given that the only thing said about them is that they were thieves and nothing more. Like somehow OoT is more empathetic to the Gerudo, it doesn't just call them thieves, it aint great its not even good its just a bad portrayal of a people, and yet somehow OoT is willing to show the Gerudo in a neutral light at points then TP ever did.

but the reason i decided to just throw down a post is cuz i was pissed that you went after Ezlo for reblogging ME and NAVI's posts and purposefully misunderstood their fuckin wind waker post about ZELDA YOUTUBERS

dude you had them getting genuinely harassed by people with 0 reading comprehension that thinks a snarky reply to a tumblr post means its 100% correct. Webbed. Site.

anyways, I hope people don't take this as a right or wrong way to interpret a piece of work, as stated before, I read your essay, navi read your essay, you changed parts of Twilight Princess to get to the conclusion of you paper...And im gonna be real but it's kinda crazy that you're using post colonial melancholia for this when it's got some.....well something like idk i need someone to do a full ass review because there are point where i gently raise an eyebrow im gonna be real. but also like

like how do you read his book and then miss out on this, one of your whole big aruments is that hyrule is stagnate and not multi cultural and i had to grab screenshots and Navi had to get shit from the game.

like damn, do yall ever uh feel a strange sadness when dusk falls? i do. Idk this is one of the first and last times Nintendo ever delt with Ganondorf with some form a sympathy for him, cuz we got the dragon explosion in totk its like oh he's turbo evil now and he exploded you exploded him and yet the Gerudo probably still gotta pay for his shit from a billion years ago anyways idk idk idk pot shots at totk again.

I know you dug around a little for that post, and I understand from the numerous people that dmed me about that, you probably went on making an essay on their post so you could sound smart again.

And to be clear, I was told to drop some shit i was about to say about you because no one wants to start fandom drama, neither do I truly and any jab on the post itself would just be rude. people change and some people only learn to shut the hell up, so we'll keep it at that. I just hope you really don't truly recognize some of these people you started shit with.

So yeah tldr, uh.....idk, im going in for an autism screening in a month

also me watching the ending to windwaker cuz i wanted to say something about stong endings TP fans im sorry But Wind waker's ending hits no matter what best sequal to OoT thats isnt Majora's mask

The History of Light and Shadow

At the end of Twilight Princess, Ganondorf delivers one of his most memorable lines, “The history of light and shadow will be written in blood.” He is not wrong. As the player has witnessed over the course of Link’s adventure, Hyrule is haunted by ruins and ghost towns, a mere shadow of what it once was. The landscape is filled with numerous sites of past violence and empty spaces visibly marked by decay and wasted potential.

When Zelda tells Link and Midna that “these dark times are the result of our deeds,” she is referring to specific historical acts of imperialistic aggression. Hyrule established hegemony over its outlying territories by crushing the rebellions against its advances, but the kingdom has suffered from cultural stagnation as a result. Without the dynamic diversity symbolized by Ganondorf, Hyrule finds itself in economic and political decline, isolated from any contact with the world beyond its shrinking borders.

As a representative of a marginalized group of people who have been attacked and driven from their homes, Ganondorf is a tangible manifestation of the horrors of imperialism. He must be defeated, but doing so does not address the underlying problems that have resulted in Hyrule’s decline. I therefore want to argue that Twilight Princess uses Ganondorf to deliver a subtle yet poignant protest against the discourses of empire reflected by the dualistic “light and shadow” rhetoric of heroism that has resulted in tragedy and regret.

Keep reading

[0kurakura0]

Case Files Pt.1 (intro)

Simon Riley "Ghost" x UN lawyer Reader

TF 141 receives a visit from a UN prosecutor working at the ICC. This overworked prosecutor is trying to build a case against war criminals and must team up with them to catch these criminals. Along the way, they may even catch feelings for a brooding soldier. slow-burn, M/F, mention of law terms, Human rights violation (genocide), cursing

The dim, sterile lights of the briefing room flickered overhead as the members of Task Force 141 gathered around the table along with Core, a fellow private military group that was hired along with 141 for a mission. Soap MacTavish leaned forward, eyes locked on the Price as he gave the mission report, his fingers drumming quietly on the polished surface. Price, ever the sentinel, stood at the center of the room along with Leopold; the captain of Core a fellow private military company. Ghost remained an imposing figure at the far end of the room leaning against the side wall. Gaz who was sitting in the seat next to Price listened in on the report on their course of action as well as all information gathered on their target. 

"Intel checks out," Soap muttered, his accent thick with the fatigue of too many nights spent in hostile territory. "I think we’ve got it locked down."

Price didn't respond immediately, waiting for the Core captain to add any information on their part. "Just keep sharp. We're not totally out of the blue just yet," Price said.

“Not much to worry about, luckily, but who knows, maybe if we find these bastards as fast as we can, we can have some fun with them,” Leopold snickers in a sadistic tone. 141 just staring at him with disdain in their eyes. Even though they are fellow operatives in this mission, 141 and Core did not see eye to eye on matters surrounding how they handled the enemy combatants. While 141 would be over and done with it. Core, they came to find out they were ruthless and would like to “play” with the enemy, much to the discomfort of others. 

“Prick,” Ghost rumbles under his breath, low enough that it couldn't be heard. 

Before anyone could reply, the door swung open, and all operatives in the room shot from their seats at the sudden interruption. Two armed guards came in and following after them a woman wearing a suit that screamed of legal authority rather than combat experience walked in. The woman’s eyes flicked across the room, taking in each of them, her gaze cold and unwavering.

"Hello Gentleman, I do hope I'm not interrupting at a bad time but I have a pressing issue at the moment" the lawyer’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. Not waiting for an invitation, stepping fully into the room, and looking directly at Price and Leopold.

"Excuse me?" Leapold barked, his brows furrowing as he straightened, clearly not amused. "And who exactly are you? And what the fuck are you doing here?”

The lawyer didn’t flinch at the sudden hostility. "I’m ___, a lawyer assigned by the United Nations to prosecute violations of international law," she said, her voice laced with authority. "I’m here on a matter of grave importance. It seems there have been violations in more ways than one."

Price exchanged glances with Ghost, each sensing the impending storm. "What’s this about?" Price asked, his tone sharp but controlled.

___ walking further into the long table in the middle and held up a folder, its contents heavy with the weight of documents, before dropping it onto the center table "Leopold O'Reilly you are being detained on violations of International Humanitarian laws along with all other soldiers under the command of the Private Military Company “Core”," she said, letting the words sink in. "Violated the Geneva Conventions, among other things. you’ll either face prosecution or give up your position and pay a hefty fine. The decision is yours, but I’m here to make sure that happens and you're brought in." She says as the 2 armed guards come around cuffing Leopold, 

“What the fuck do you mean violation I haven't done shit, and Im a private actor, not a state, so the Geneva Conventions don't apply to me,” Leopold screams at the lady as he struggles against the 2 guards. 

“Under certain circumstances, yes, but 3 years ago, you were hired by a state official in Nigeria to clear out a village to make way for oil drilling in the area where you were not, and while there, it was reported that your team violated multiple human rights law including the violation of the 1948 genocide convention, and since you where hired by a state official you are considered a state actor under contract,” ___ states with a cold glare towards Leopold. As she motions her head to the 2 guards to escort him out.

"You can't Fucking do this to me- fuck stop let me go!" Leopold yells as he's dragged out of the room by the guards.

“Hold, you can't just come barging in here like this,” Soap says as he stands up, half yelling at the lawyer.

___ not flinching turns to him saying. "This is a matter of international law, and as of now out of yalls hands. So unless you want to see the rest of your operation crumble under legal scrutiny, I suggest you start taking this seriously and just let me do my job,"

The room seemed to freeze, the air thick with the weight of her words. Ghost’s gloved hands tightened into fists, his gaze never leaving ___. The lawyer wasn’t backing down. She had a mission, and She would not be swayed.

Price stepped forward, his voice low but filled with command. "We have a mission that we are carrying out. We can't just up and stop this. You think you can just waltz in here and disrupt everything we’ve worked on?"

___ met his gaze head-on. "I don’t care about your mission. What I care about is justice. And that’s what you’re going to face, whether you like it or not," she says, ending the conversation as she turns around leaving the room. 

Price’s phone rings soon after. “Laswell, what the bloody hell is going on right now?” He half yells through the phone. 

“Sorry, John, I guess you just met the reason for my call,” Laswell says from the other side of the phone, sighing. “That was __ a UN litigator. It seems like they are starting to push harder to crack down on violations by sending out their dogs to bring them in. And Leopold was apparently on the top of their list. I tried to call you about the situation as soon as I caught word, but seems I was just a tad bit late,” 

Price grumbles “So what do we do now?”

“Nothing, the mission is being called off, think of it as an early break let off to go home,” Laswell says in a monotone voice before ending the call.

Soap leans over looking over to Ghost with one of his trademark grins. “Well that was something,” he says with a chuckle. “But I will have to say seeing a lassie like that being so commanding is kinda hot, ain't it LT,” he says.

Ghost looks at him with annoyance through his mask, saying, “Can it, Johnny” as he pushes off the wall, leaving the room annoyed with the whole situation. Thinking back to the lawyer. Hoping for his annoyance that he doesn't have to deal with that shit again.

Okay hey, y'all this is my first fic ever so not the best but will edit and add more here and there as I figure out what I'm meant to do and how this app works lol.

I'm always open to little imagine ideas or other stuff. but this fic will take some time also will make a masterlist for it as soon as I figure it all out.

but yeah hope you like this kinda a law nerd but to make it interesting it's not 100% accurate but if I can help it I will be in some.

[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  6 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: "the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." - oscar wilde

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5| chapter 6

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

Despite what happened, you would have done anything to face Father Sylus again. 

He was the type of person who radiated energy from within, dedication unlike anyone you had ever met - which could be a good or a bad thing. The thoughts became an obsession, all that seemed to fill your brain. The recollection of his touch made you sweat. It was the last thing you thought about before drifting off to sleep, the first thing you thought about when you woke, and the next few days stretched.  One thing was sure: you longed to see him again, if only for the courage to apologize.  But did you even have to apologize? He was the one who had kissed you first, right?  It was so unbelievably confusing. You’d talk yourself through circles; for once, no amount of sleeping seemed to help.  You weren’t even given the option to sleep it all off anyway or mellow properly in your self-pity. Upon learning of your ‘arrest’ from Talia, your father forced you out of the house that Sunday to go to church with him.  “What’s going on with you, Y/N?” Dad raised his eyebrows and frowned as he gripped the steering wheel, and you could tell he was trying hard not to get angry or frustrated. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, hon. You came back, and you’re acting weird.  Can you just tell me what’s wrong?”  Shaking your head, you shrugged, trying your hardest to maintain eye contact on the door handle, ignoring your dad’s question and wishing he’d just leave you alone.  “You went from being happy to totally distraught since you moved out. What am I supposed to think here, huh?”  ‘Maybe everything went to total fucking shit,’ was what you wanted to say, and tried not to roll your eyes. Dad tried so hard to not act like the authoritarian or pushy father, especially after your mother had died. He was never like that. And it was because of that you figured it was time to be at least a little truthful.  “I quit my job. I don’t know what I’m going to do from here, but -” you said, “I just…needed some time to think things through.”  Your dad parked the car and turned to offer you a subtle smile. You were convincing enough, obviously. “Okay, fine. Work in the store until you figure it out. It’ll be like old times.” One hand gripped the steering wheel as he looked at you, almost seeming to peer into your brain as his eyes flicked ever so slightly. “So, uh, is this about your mom? I didn’t know you were still upset about that. I should’ve tried to talk to you more.”  You bit down your reply, feeling a bitter taste in the back of your throat, and willing it away.  “No, it isn’t. Just forget about it.”  A long sigh filled the small space as your father pressed his lips together. “Christ, I can’t be mad at you right now. I’ve always let you do what you want.”  This was strange, a particular ache settling inside and spreading to your limbs like an infection. Maybe it wouldn’t stop now that it had started. And the first instinct was to get away and run. Run and run and just get away.  “Hon, Y/N,” Your Dad’s voice was pleading, and you nearly missed it. “We can go talk to -”  “No!” You blurted, immediately regretting it, mortified at just the thought. How did you speak so fast? “No, it’s fine. Let’s just go inside. We’re gonna be late.”

You didn’t feel any better inside the church, but you weren’t expecting much to begin with. All you could do was suck it up and seat yourself beside your dad. It wasn’t crowded, but there were a few unfamiliar faces, so maybe not everyone would notice your fucked up mood. 

Everything felt surreal. You were sitting there in church with the sun streaming through the stained glass windows, and your gaze landed on the one depicting the Virgin Mary.

The word ethereal came to mind. 

Everything seemed like it would evaporate into thin air. Like if you moved too quickly, you’d wake up from one of those dreams that just turned out to be inside of another dream. 

And when a hush fell over the congregation, you had no choice but to look forward. No matter how your brain fizzes or your fingers tingle. You were forced to look at that handsome face in front of the church and feel the emotion well inside you. Something that felt different than embarrassment or frustration. 

Even from this distance, Father Sylus exudes that particular aura, daring to fill the whole church with its strength. You are once again reminded of how inescapable his presence is—not through belief or goodness, but something, someone who felt unearthly, even celestial, as absurd as it felt. 

Ethereal. Once again, with that pretty word. How could you even begin to explain it? It was so easy to feel some sort of bitterness, perhaps even selfishness. Who could blame you? Everything always seemed too simple when you looked at it from a distance. 

“Good morning,” He began, his voice taking on that strangely powerful, lilting cadence. He paused, hands clasping, and his posture was different. Shoulders broad, spine straight, chin lifted slightly. “I want to take a moment before we begin to discuss why we’re here.” 

You were drawn to his words, which had formed an invisible link to you. Maybe if you closed your eyes like you did at night, you could picture that night in the car. It felt foolish because you were certain your own thoughts were desperate. How stupid did it make you seem, trying to replay the sensation? A stupid crush. That is all you wanted it to amount to, even if looking into his fiery gaze had made you feel like you were melting.

“We’re here, in the house of the Lord. Why is this?” 

If a month’s insistence on chasing after a flame could be compared to anything -

 “Free will.” His tone picked up. “Through our actions, we make conscious decisions. As far as humankind is concerned, free will also makes us human.” 

Your breathing stilled. Something terrible seized your gut, a cramping feeling causing you to grit your teeth. 

“This is a sanctified place,” he continued, voice rich and filled with energy. “Within these walls, you should experience peace. Not conflict or anger. All are free here because it is with our actions that we build ourselves.”

How the hell did he manage this? The words continued spilling from his mouth, something pulling you further. And after a pause, his gaze filtered over the room again - and landed on you. 

Time was beginning to stand still, and you swore your face began to heat up. But, thankfully, the look didn’t linger on you, moving on as he cleared his throat. 

Well, fuck. 

There was only a tiny shift in expression, and perhaps you were the only one to notice how his pause seemed more lengthy than those before it. 

"We - uh.” Father Sylus made a show of glancing down at the notes before him and shuffling a few pages. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat again, a little louder this time. “What I mean to say is, with free will, we struggle against our urges and temptations. Sin beckons - uh,” another loud cough. He looked nervous. Vulnerable. In more ways than one. 

Father Sylus hastily pushed aside the pages, shoulders lifting in a deep breath before looking again at the people gathered. He straightened a little, and his powerful tone returned as he folded his hands neatly. “So, how do we resist? It can be hard to…admit one’s faults.” He let out a little huff of air, glancing down again. Then, he stepped away from the podium, stepping along the carpeted dais, hands clasped behind his back and thumbs tapping against each other. 

The congregation started shifting. A glance here and there, unable to guess what he would say next. Probably wondering why their priest was acting so…off. If you weren’t glued to your seat in, well, any number of the emotions you were feeling now - you would have high-tailed it out of there already. But instead, you were frozen in place, feeling like an outsider, feeling the shift in the air more than the others around you. 

“Take those feelings and multiply them by ten.” He stated, looking towards the back of the church at nothing in particular. It was as if he was somewhere only his mind knew. 

“Opportunity is often just an invitation to sin, yes. Free will is a man’s greatest power but also his biggest weakness. With that power comes responsibility. Satan doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns in the middle of the night.” 

Oh God.

 There was a tense pause and stillness, and you wonder how you managed to sit here and listen. Those crimson eyes trailed around the room, but for another second, a brief and terrifying second, they burned into you.

“Satan comes as everything you’ve ever wished for.” He laughed, bitter and slightly hoarse. Then his eyes snapped forward again, unabashed. 

He coughed, cleared his throat again, and gestured with a finger above his head. “We all - well, we all think we can overcome any challenge. Big or small. Big and small.” Father Sylus let out a shaky exhale. “Um, the point is...The point is that the devil is ready to collect when you can’t. So, the point is that - uh,” His tone shifted to something smaller that made your insides tremble agonizingly. A breathless, tight sort of anxiousness that stole through your lungs and caused your heart rate to increase. It was impossible to deny that despite the words coming out of his mouth, you actually wanted to hear him continue. “Um, sometimes I think the hardest thing is that we are human, and we are weak.” 

Before he could even continue, his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” He swallowed, grimacing, an anguish that you recognized. “Excuse me.” He looked like he might break, the wavering tension almost stifling the room, his expression almost tormented. 

“I’m sorry. Excuse me.” And with that, he disappeared into the back, leaving everyone shocked. 

Everyone except for you. 

“And that’s why I’m never going to church again.” You rolled your eyes as you leaned against one of the shelves in your dad’s store, looking over at Rafayel, who was leaning against the counter, making it his personal mission to get every last drop out of an iced coffee. “You should have seen the look on his face. What a fuck up.” 

Rafayel wrinkled his nose, looked around the otherwise empty store, and then glanced at his phone. “Yikes. Poor guy.” He sighed and tapped his foot on the floor. “Talia came home and said he had a migraine - but it’s even more hilarious that a near-public breakdown was because of you.” 

“My God, you are awful.” You frowned and stepped forward to lightly punch his arm, reaching out and catching his elbow with a grimace as he pretended to almost fall over. “That’s a horrible thing to say! You were the one who was practically encouraging me!” 

“I would never,” Rafayel huffed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Anyway, it’s been almost a week now. You’re gonna have to suck it up and face him sooner or later.” With a firm nod, he shook off your hold and dusted his hand on the faded denim of his jeans, turning his attention back to his phone and shaking the ice in the cup he held. 

“How would I do that?” You asked. 

As if oblivious, Rafayel arched a brow and smiled tightly, peering at you over the edge of his phone. His tone was less-than-reassuring, sounding almost pitying. “No fucking idea.” 

You opened your mouth to argue but thought better of it as the shop door opened, just in time for the chilly afternoon to bring in your dad and Xavier. You took a deep breath at the sound of the bell and forced yourself to calm down.

As if on cue, Rafayel pushed himself away from the counter and looked in your direction. “Well, Y/N.” He said, tossing a wink in your direction that made you want to reach out and knock the silly grin off his face. “Good luck.” With that, he turned and walked out of the store with a shake of his head. 

Your dad mumbled something under his breath before tossing a wave a little too late and heading into the back of the small building. 

Unease had settled in your stomach at your friend's departure. You felt as if you had more to say, ask, or get a general idea of as you stared at the shop's door. You ran a hand over your tired face and sighed. 

“Hi,” Xavier gave you a careful, controlled smile as you turned toward his voice. “Need help with anything?” 

You tried your best not to fidget or bite your lip. “No, but it’s nice of you to offer.” You shrugged and glanced away briefly. “Why? Got nothing else to do?” 

“Uh, I work here?” He blinked as he stepped forward. You could take in his softening facial features now that he was closer. His smile didn’t quite fade as he looked around the quiet shop. “Anyway - I um. I tried to call you last night? About dinner?” 

Tilting your head in confusion, you froze. Then, you processed the sentence. 

Dinner. Shit. 

“Oh! My phone went missing. I’m sure it’ll turn up soon or something. Wasn’t the nicest phone anyways,” you brushed some hair behind your ear. “I still can’t figure out how it disappeared!” You forced a laugh at your lie and shifted uncomfortably.

You’d completely forgotten about agreeing to go out with him. How fucking stupid were you? So caught up in the idea of -

“Well, uh, I didn’t plan much. So it’s okay, we can just do something another night. Right?” Xavier suggested, and you couldn’t tell if he had let it go so quickly or was suspicious about your behavior. 

Either way, you smiled, rationalizing with yourself for what felt like the millionth time that spending time with him would be a good thing. Any way to keep your mind distracted. Clearly, he still wanted to go out with you, and you certainly wouldn’t say no. After all, who could blame you for latching on anyone who showed the slightest interest? 

This would be a step in the right direction, right? Things would get better. They had to. No matter how weird it felt for you to think so. 

“That’s fine. Sorry, my head’s all over the place.” 

The worst part of it all was the sudden weight in your stomach, the ache in your chest that was becoming all too tiring. Something pushed you in the complete opposite direction of the young man in front of you, towards what you really wanted, and had no explanation for why you did. 

“Y/N?” Xavier spoke again and stepped closer, watching your expression with careful scrutiny, his hand reaching out to touch yours, giving you a new feeling of unease. “Hey, um, - you alright?” 

Your heart wrenched a little at the worry, and you wondered exactly how pathetic you appeared. “I think so. Can you take over? I gotta step out for a while.”

It grew colder as you walked along the sidewalk, sticking your hands inside your jacket pockets. Clouds gathered in the distance, inching their way towards the suburb. The air smelled fresher, as if it might snow lightly sometime at night. A breeze swept over the street, stirring pieces of your hair from its confines, and you briefly thought you should have remembered your scarf. 

Then, you came to a stop in front of the church. 

You looked down at your outfit, the jeans and the oversized blue sweater you had found in your mom's closet, when you couldn’t be bothered to do your own laundry. Perhaps she would give you strength, or at least enough willpower from wherever she was to give you the courage to turn right the fuck around and go back home.  She was always straightforward in that way, even without the drinking. If only you had taken after her in that aspect. 

For a moment, you almost turned to leave, giving yourself the opportunity to simply walk away and go home. However, after a few seconds of mental debate, you stepped along the worn walkway and up the steps, slipping your hand out of your pocket to place it on the worn wooden door. 

Somewhere in your mind was a glimmer of hope, the possibility of resolve.

Now that you had gathered whatever courage you had left, you took one last, bracing breath before pushing the door open. A jolt of energy speared up your arms, a buzzing sensation against your fingertips. Once you were inside, everything felt eerily silent. Almost too silent. But as the familiar warmth enveloped you, your body relaxed slightly as you shrugged off your jacket. 

The last light from the day was casting through the windows, and the interior was a muted, golden glow and soft orange. It felt warm in more ways than one. Despite the hushed nature of the building, energy thrummed within you. The atmosphere was inviting, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite muster the ability to step forward any further, feet stuck to the floor beneath you. It was ironic, yet in a way, expected; you felt like crying or throwing something, but maybe punching Father Sylus would give you the most satisfaction. 

The chapel seemed alien to you as you made your way further inside. 

Loneliness was all-consuming, a fear ever present and threatening in the back of your mind. You wondered why it hurt so much. And, you considered whether you have ever experienced a real connection in your life. You zeroed in on the cross beyond the rows of pews as if you could use it for answers. It glinted a little in the evening light that filtered through the stained glass. Your eyes felt dry as they fixed upon the illuminated wood, searching, listening, walking towards the front of the church like a mouse. 

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” You asked your question out loud. The silence of the building taunted you in return, and something constricted within your chest. The rush of it all was consuming, filling your every thought with hope and expectation. A breath sucked in, and you shook your head, blinking. Everything felt off, and you had no idea what your body was supposed to do with itself. “This is so fucked. You know, this is all…just so messed up,” you choked out the whisper and, with a small gasp, swallowed. The emotions swelled. Heavy and pounding and suddenly overwhelming. 

Who gave a shit? Nothing would change. 

But, maybe - 

Would God be willing? Could He lift the spell put on you that would continue to grow? 

“Mom is dead, and she’s not coming back.” The words spilled and dropped like shattered glass. “And, uh, it’s just like, that’s fucked up. Isn’t it? Please, it’s - well, I wish I knew, God damn it. Motherfucker!” You swore louder than you should have, not recognizing your own voice. A feeling that had no name gripped your heart. This was it. You were giving up. “Totally fucked up. And you go and make me do stupid shit? What kind of test is that?” 

Only silence answered. You wondered how you should feel. As angry as you were, it felt strange to voice it. Finally, saying the words brought unusual comfort, and it was too easy to admit everything now. “Yeah, yeah. You should really apologize, God. Lord. Jesus. Whatever.” 

“I’m sorry.” The voice that spoke back did not belong to you. Echoing off the walls and the stained glass, it sent a jolt up your spine, causing you to spin in its direction. Leaning against a doorframe was Father Sylus, looking down at the floor, that shameful expression resurfacing on his face. You witnessed the repentant facade as he lifted his head and looked at you. 

It felt like a flood rushed through you, coursing, washing away the anger, seeping into every cell, and filling you with something new. Warm and soft, somehow breaking you apart as it passed. Something indecipherable but true. 

Something almost wonderful and exhilarating. 

He looked like something you could draw. That raw, exposed sort of aura. 

That same warmth enveloped your heart, the comfort expanding across your chest. There was something profound and affectionate within his gaze and the sense that you had underestimated what was truly meant by the phrase ‘care and concern.’

It could have been a few seconds. Or minutes passed as you stood rooted to the spot. The beating of your heart seemed to echo in your ears. Blood pulsed through your veins, the silence around you growing louder. 

“For what?” You were almost afraid to speak up. 

“For whatever you’re feeling,” Father Sylus stated plainly. Then he straightened, and his look shifted, and for a split second, he stepped forward, only to pause with his fingers twitching at his sides. Maybe there was confusion flickering in his gaze. Or longing. But he still didn’t move from where he stood, as if unable to break the tension he had with himself. After a time, he studied your face and added, “For everything and for nothing.” 

After a moment of thought, you shook your head. “That’s vague.” 

“It’s all I’ve got.” Father Sylus ran a hand behind his neck, almost nervously, eyes shifting and gaze searching. Another pause lingered between you, and you blinked a few times. He opened and closed his mouth, finally settling on placing both his hands on his hips, inclining his head to look at the stained glass windows. “That…and guilt.” 

His admission seemed weighted, and his voice was heavy. You watched him take a step forward, then hesitate. 

In that second, there was a great leap in understanding. You understood that he would not look directly at you because it would break this sacred reverence between you and whatever else was going on within his mind. 

Maybe it’d always been a game, and perhaps you knew deep down that this would be his next move. The inevitable, silent communication. Slowly, you folded your shaky arms over your chest. The look that flashed in his eyes made you shudder. With a new boldness, you swallowed and whispered: “Why are you telling me this?” 

Exhaling hard, you weren’t sure whether to scream, laugh, or cry as you awaited your answer.

He swallowed, his dark gaze teeming like a fire in the low light, the red burning. His lip curled. “Because I feel like you can understand it. Why I feel this way.” 

A sick urge, sharp and needy, had you crossing the space between you, the air shaking and trembling as he finally took another stride forward. Your eyes traced over his face. Deep and pained and beautiful. His chest heaved. A strange, bittersweet satisfaction filled you. 

“I - I can’t stop thinking about -” you broke off, words quivering as you spoke. “Us. The other night - it keeps going through my head, what I said, and -” your voice was breaking again, the achy, miserable desperation settling in. 

You could tell he was holding his breath, hands now clenched into fists, gaze searching and uncertain. “I didn’t mean to deceive you.” The words hung heavy as he stepped closer, finally closing the distance between you, tilting your chin, and forcing you to look at him. The grip held you firmly, though his eyes remained gentle and pleading. “I want nothing more than to pray - beg for your forgiveness. Try and restore whatever trust I’ve betrayed - but in all truth, God, I -” 

Another thick swallow, and he paused, the corner of his mouth twisting. He squeezed your chin lightly as if in search of some answer. Then his hand fell to his side, his head turning to look at the cross behind the altar. Something burned beneath your ribs. 

“What is it?” You whispered, trembling with the effort of not spilling all your unresolved thoughts. “Tell me - tell me something, anything, or - or -” You stopped yourself, feeling a little pathetic at not being able to formulate the proper words. 

“My path was never exactly clear, but,” Father Sylus swallowed thickly, sounding more scared than ever. “Someone I loved when I was younger - she -” A long sigh escaped his lips. “We were each other's firsts and…We loved each other very much.” He exhaled again. His face creased into sadness, reminiscent and haunting. A sharp pain, almost. One that lingered from emotions held within. The truth was there, plain as day, naked, heartbroken, and fragile. “She died when she was eighteen.” 

Pain squeezed at you mercilessly, tight and almost bone-crunching. You stepped closer, your brain slowly putting it all together, realization hitting. Then your bottom lip trembles as you reach out, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it. “I’m sorry,” you manage to say after a moment, “that must have been -” Another pause, trying to settle your lungs into a steadier breathing pattern. 

He squeezed your hand, looking at you, catching your gaze and holding it, unwavering. “I went to her funeral in a church far bigger than this one with twice the congregation. And later that day, when they put her down into the ground, I listened to the Monsignor pray over her soul.” He looked away again, this time up at the beams in the ceiling. “And I really listened to what he was saying for the first time. And I don’t know why, I just suddenly felt…” He trailed off, and you moved your hand further up his arm, willing him to continue by pressing your fingertips gently into his forearm. 

He smiled at the ceiling, faint and apologetic. “I felt at peace. Everything clicked into place. As stupid as that sounds. It was like something I couldn’t understand but needed. And, well,” he shrugged. 

“At last, it finally made sense to me,” he muttered. “The power God holds over us was always right there.” Then he turned to face you, his fingers reaching and resting on your cheek, tracing the soft skin of your jaw. “And now, I stand before you - finding these feelings again, the first true connection I’ve felt in years. I don’t mean to doubt anything…but I don’t know how to...” 

He let his voice drift off before tucking your hair behind your ear, movements tender. You wondered what he could see in your expression. 

“How did she die?” You asked quietly as if the question would destroy something in the air, but you needed to ask it anyway. 

The corners of his mouth trembled as he stroked his thumb along your jawline, offering you a small, grim smile. “She was mad at something, drank herself sick. Decided a joy ride on a motorcycle might be a good idea,” he turned his gaze to the ceiling again, and it finally hit you that he kept doing that as a trick to keep himself from crying. “She lost control and swerved, hit a wall head-on. Died on impact. Stupid girl with the dumbest ideas. She used to talk about seeing if the world curved or if the stars continued forever. She was funny and smart - but not as smart as she should have been. Her blood alcohol level came back three times the legal limit.” 

“That’s horrible,” you breathed. The puzzle pieces were assembled together. A crash. Drunk. How similar it was to your mother. Only your mother hadn’t met death head-on. It was still one of those things that made you wonder; which would have been worse? The chance was so similar yet unique. Still, as Father Sylus spoke about it, you swore you felt the faint sorrow he must still carry within himself.

“Sylus, I’m -” 

“Don’t be sorry.” He said, finally regaining a certain poise about his face, somehow managing to look warm even at this moment, smiling very softly. 

At his words, you realized you were breathing harder than before, and it didn’t go unnoticed as he scanned your face. You didn’t know what was wrong with you; you felt an emotion you could no longer explain. He had experienced loss, same as you, just not in the same way. 

Father Sylus let out a dry snort. “It’s not a happy memory, but something good comes from pain. Distrust to trust. Fear to courage. Hatred to love. To an extent, those things make you understand and appreciate everything.” 

You nodded, unable to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around his middle, convincing yourself you would forget how to breathe if you didn’t. You embraced him because it felt like the right thing to do, the smoothness of his shirt beneath your fingertips. His hand ran up along your side until it rested on your neck's base, soft, gentle, and warm. He exhaled a little before resting his chin on the top of your head. 

As he held you, you realized that this was what you had wanted. This was what you had really been aching for. Everything shifted again, changing, rushing with a tangle of nerves and dizziness. Nothing else would settle more easily than being cradled right there, where you could breathe him in. 

“Hey, do you -” He leaned back, both hands cupping your face, tilting it to meet his own. It took him a moment to formulate his question. “I shouldn’t ask, but - do you still want me?” 

Of course you did. More than anything. 

But even then, you should have stepped away. Should have walked out without another word, back to whatever fucking regular life you thought you had. But with whatever strength you had left, you pushed everything aside and quietly said, “Yes.” 

He had pressed you against the wooden door of the office, pinning you in place after dragging you in there and shutting the door. Not that you really had any intention of going anywhere. Not with his lips moving against yours, the desperation sending sparks along your skin.  His tongue darted out, parting your lips and moving into your mouth. Hungry and forceful and tasting every inch.

“You know,” he said as he pulled back, taking a second to breathe, “It’s so hard to be good when you’re so…” He trailed off, leaving you to only imagine what he would say. 

No, you had no words or any logical thoughts, really. Perhaps this was the closest thing to heaven you’d ever feel, surely. And Father Sylus ran his hands down your sides, slow and possessive, grabbing fistfuls of your sweater and bunching it up. Heat began spreading throughout your body as his fingertips crept underneath and stoked along the sensitive skin. 

“Will you let me in?” He mumbled, his lips now on the underside of your jaw as his palms spanned across your stomach as if trying to map out every inch of exposed skin. The blood pounded in your veins, pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat.

“If this is what it feels like to be tempted,” you mused, gasping as he sucked on the skin above your collarbone, gripping the front of his shirt. “I have already failed. Miserably.” 

Letting out a hot breath that sounded an awful lot like laughter, he pulled away, a smile stretching across his lips, amused. “I suppose you really have,” he chuckled. His hands gripped your hips and spun you around so you were against his desk. Then he ducked down to press more kisses along your throat. The shivers returned as he lifted your sweater over your head, tossing it aside with another wicked grin. And for the first time, you noticed the hint of a dimple in the corner of his mouth. 

After a moment, Father Sylus fumbled with the buttons of his shirt until that, too, was discarded, skin suddenly bare. The sight made you stop, observing for a moment. For the first time, your fingers reached out and touched the skin of his chest, moving over the muscles and across his stomach. You marveled at the way he flinched slightly, inhaling sharply at your touch. 

Everything felt…hot, heavy, and inappropriate in the best way. 

And before you knew it, his hands were running up along the bare skin of your stomach, a barely-there brush that made your breath hitch. Then his hands were behind your back, unhooking your bra as his lips found yours again, rough and fervent. As it was removed, there was not a second of delay before his hands cupped both of your breasts, squeezing and drawing his thumbs over your nipples. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his hands shifted, fingers resting along the waistband of your jeans. 

It was like every little action was becoming overwhelming, sending pulsing waves through every nerve, vein, and muscle. When he popped the button, slid the zipper, and slowly eased the jeans down, the pulsing only got stronger—dizzying with its intensity. It was challenging to focus on anything else that would make more sense. Your mind was clouded. 

“Wait,” you breathed, sitting on the desk, pulling the clip from your hair and tossing it to the floor, the waves tumbling out. His hands never left you, still roaming over every little centimeter of you they could get access to, “I -” 

It didn’t need to be said, whatever it was. Because a grin broke out across his lips. A bright, glorious grin as Father Sylus pressed another harsh kiss to your lips like he could swallow the words down.

Stepping closer, he maneuvered you onto your back, your legs dangling over the edge of the desk. The smooth, cool wood pressed against the length of your spine and shoulders as you heard something that sounded like a book fall somewhere behind you. He gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, blunt nails digging in. Breath hitching, your heart thumped at the roughness and passion of his movements. Something animalistic and unrestrained lay just beneath the surface, waiting, ready. 

“Let me,” he urged quietly, fingers winding over the lace underwear, dragging them down the length of your legs. Fingers stroked up again, curling and caressing your inner thighs, one hand finally reaching the place where you were already desperate, soaking wet, and aching to be touched. Without hesitation, a digit dipped, sliding along your slick folds and slipping in easily. The motion made you bite down on your tongue as his other hand ran along the underside of your knee, urging your leg up and apart. 

You felt the pad of his thumb gliding over the little bundle of nerves, back and forth in a way that made you groan. 

“You are,” his voice was low, almost a growl, and his teasing continued. “So gorgeous, laying there. I can’t stop looking at you.” One finger became two. Slick and hot as they moved into you, each stroke moving deeper. All too suddenly, his lips were crashing down against yours, kissing you hard and desperately as if set on devouring you whole. 

The only thing keeping you stable was grabbing his shoulder and his upper arm. The sudden rise of pressure rushed around you. His thumb slipped, pressing down a bit more on your clit, drawing another gasp from you, a sound that filled the room. Then he pulled his hand away, an invisible weight settling when the digits were gone, leaving you empty and still aching for more. 

“I’m on birth control,” you managed, eyes blinking rapidly as you processed that this, in fact, was actually about to happen. The fullness beneath your belly was spooling tighter, coiling. 

It was only a few seconds; that’s all it took for him to undo his belt buckle, his length freed. Straining, leaking, begging to be inside you. The size of it makes you swallow a certain anxious lump in your throat. 

“Please.” The word spilled out before you could stop it. The coil inside you grew more and more tense and throbbing. You needed it now; the consequences didn’t matter, nor did the guilt or shame. “Please.”

His breathing hitched as if a long controlled flame within had been ignited. One of his hands rested on your hip, the other hooking under your opposite knee, parting you further and steadying himself. The tip of his cock pressed at your center. You didn’t have any time to prepare because, at that very moment, he was pushing further, sliding into you inch by inch. 

The heat and fullness and pleasure coursed, trembling through you. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, face buried in the crook of your neck, but you could hear the grin in his tone, the soft desperation in his voice. “You, you -” but his breath choked off as he pushed all the way inside, the moan that ripped through him cracked and hoarse. 

It took you a moment to feel him fully, gasping for air and dazed beyond what was really necessary. Holding tight, you wrapped an arm around his neck, exhaling hard. The room became a haze around the two of you, the entire moment almost suspended, paused, put on hold. 

When he moved his hips again, you whimpered as he hit somewhere deep, and your pleasure spiked. 

“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, raising himself just enough to look at you, eyes glinting with a certain fervor. A little dark, a little feral, something wildly possessive and hungry and yearning all at once. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. Another jolt shot through you. Another strong thrust, this one harder than the last, followed by another. And another. It took a minute for him to set a rhythm, but when he did - you were sure the air was being pushed from your lungs each time. 

You couldn’t do anything but hang on. His mouth met yours in a sloppy, forceful kiss. Gasping and shuddering, you tried not to shout at the next jolt. The constant grind fills you every time. Deeper and sharper. The steady, thrumming pleasure. Intense and focused, as if Father Sylus were on a mission. Searching for something. Finding each sweet spot with whatever desperate greed drove him. Like now that he’d had the taste of something forbidden, he wanted the best of it - anything you could offer. 

He shifted slightly, and before you knew it, he hooked your leg over his shoulder, the deep angle making you arch from the desk. 

One hand tangled in his hair, the other on his shoulder, gripping hard and pulling him closer, trying to keep him buried deep inside of you. The friction built, the pace driving forward and drawing the pressure up, leaving you malleable and aching for release. But somehow, wanting it to last as long as possible. 

When the pleasure spooled tighter and tighter, every breath came short, coming fast and shorter. Until finally with one long, breathy whimper of an exhale, release washed over you, crashing like a wave. His name slipped out of your mouth, some deep, instinctual part of your brain keeping you present enough to utter it, still pulsing around him, shaking. 

And that brought him there, a little broken sound falling from his lips. Hips snapping, driving just the slightest bit further until he groaned into the side of your neck, spilling inside you. After a moment, the stillness settled between the two of you, heavy and thick. There was no actual sound other than ragged breathing. 

You stared at the ceiling, trembling and a bit boneless, wholly dumbfounded and satisfied. Then, with every ounce of energy left, you sat up, placing a hand on his chest.

“You okay?” 

A rush flooded through you at his question, and you struggled to make sense - to be logical and reasonable. 

“Yeah,” you said quickly, “I just. I…” What was the right wording? You trailed off, eyes focused somewhere beyond him. Struggling, you kept your eyes away. How could you possibly articulate the warmth that had settled over you, the lift in your confusion that had been gnawing at you until this moment? How could you explain feelings that make no real sense? 

“I feel at peace.” A near whisper because your words made it tangible, whatever it was. And really, you did feel lighter. It was as if something weighing on your shoulders had lifted in a way that wasn’t just because of the act that had been performed. 

“Really?” A sharp inhale of his breath. 

You nodded, reaching out to hold his face and running your thumbs along his cheekbones. Father Sylus slowly returned the nod, a tentative but wonderful, hopeful smile quirking up his lips—something bright and genuine, untouched by bitterness or remorse.

Serenity had sunken in with a comforting familiarity. Settling inside, like the feeling of returning home. Like the truth had opened its door. Acceptance and serenity. Understanding. Clarity, even. The knowledge you weren’t as broken or faulty as you thought. 

A moment passed, no words spoken. Then, still breathless and maybe a bit disbelieving, Father Sylus reached out and traced a cross on your brow with his thumb. 

“Did you just -” You blinked, a bit indignant as you huffed. “Did you just…bless me?”

He looked a bit sheepish, hands resting on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing gentle circles along your collarbone. “Guess I did.” With a slight chuckle, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91

[echobx]

You sure? - JJ Maybank × fem!plus sized!inexperienced!reader

summary: you take your first hookup JJ back to your place and things start to get hot and heavy very fast

word count: 1.2k

warnings: smut adjacent, making out, suggestive talk, mention of reader being a virgin, mean!cocky!JJ (but only while horny), light petting, slapping, dry humping, biting

author's note: I don't think I'm ready yet to write full smut again, so I hope you forgive me for this somewhat fade to black kinda thing

   You're leaning against the wall behind you, hand holding onto the door frame that is pressing into your back. There's this dizziness inside you that you've never felt before. Warm and heavy and exciting and- 

   “You comin’?” JJ asked while pulling his shirt off and mindlessly throwing the fabric somewhere on the floor. The yellow overhead light casts a glow onto his toned, sun kissed skin as you watch his back muscles before he turns, and your breath hitches. There's something primal in how you force your throat to still and press your legs together. The thought of simply laying him down and licking him all overcomes to your mind before you remember what you actually had planned, and why you had picked specifically him for it. 

   “JJ, I've never done this before,” you croak, wishing you didn't feel so small under his unwavering gaze as he stalks toward you.

   “Hookups ain't for everybody, s'all good, I don't judge, princess,” he winks, twirling some of your hair in between his fingers while leaning over you. You wanna let loose a bit, let yourself fall into how easy he makes it all feel, yet there's the guilt tugging at your conscience. 

   “No,” you shake your head, speaking softly. “I've never done this. Kissing, touching, feeling-” 

   “Fucking?” he interrupts with a cocky smile on his lips, maybe too cocky, but he's standing too close for you to actually care. Your eyes focus on his, blue and growing darker with the passing second. It's like your throat is clogged up by the fear that he would actually leave or worse make fun of you for it, for revealing the truth. A gulp followed by a nod and a small, whined “yes” is all you can get out at first.

   Closing your eyes, you try to focus solely on your words, and not the fact that his calloused fingers are softly cradling your jaw, rubbing a thumb over the apple of your cheek before pulling your bottom lip down as you try to speak. “It- It would to-totally okay if you- you wanted to leave. I shouldn't have-” 

   JJ’s lips are warm and wet and a little chipped, but you don't mind it. You like that he knows exactly what he wants, and that his hand slips down to hold your throat, tilting your head back while swallowing your breath and whimpers. He's even closer like that, his free hand squeezes your hip while his body is fully leaning against your own. And you don't know where to put your hands, so you keep them by your side at first, until he forces one up to have you hold onto his neck. It feels like learning to drive; you're scared to do something wrong, but he's not letting you fail. Chasing your lips and grinding his hips against your body like it's the most normal thing to do. 

   You get dizzy again, the different kind of dizzy, the kind that makes you push against him enough so he stops and lets you both get some air to fill up your lungs. At least you thought so before his lips attach to your neck, kissing and licking, but when you let out a choked moan because he found your sweet spot, his hand lands hard on your cheek. 

   “Don't fucking dare holdin’ back,” he glares, and you nod diligently. It's not something you would've expected from charming, funny, flirty JJ Maybank, but you can't say it doesn't turn you on. 

   His lips lock down on yours again, and you sigh into it. Digging your hands in his hair, running your nails over his scalp until he bites your lip. Your mouth falls open at the piercing feel his teeth left on your plump lips, giving him enough room to dart his tongue into your mouth. Tentatively assessing the situation, he lets his tongue run over your teeth for a moment before smiling and somehow leaning into you even deeper. It's like he's actually trying to devour you, tasting every last millimeter of your mouth and doing it over and over again until you pull on his hair, and the only thing connecting your lips is a short string of spit. 

   “Done already?” JJ teases, tilting his head to the side. 

   “Does it always feel like this?” you ask, and it doesn't even make sense that those words come out of you when you actually just wanted to tell him to fuck you already. 

   “Nah, that's just me, baby,” JJ growls, pulling you away from the wall and kissing you again. It's like he's addicted to your taste, not getting enough even when it still lingers on his lips and tongue. 

   He's slowly stumbling backwards until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he lets himself fall, pulling you with him. But his kisses and the way his hands roam your body never falter. Squeezing your hips, then your ass and boobs, before moving his hand between your thighs and under your dress. 

   Your breath hitches and he sucks on your bottom lip, letting his digits run through your slick folds another time while chuckling. 

   “No panties? You naughty girl,” JJ tsks, taking his hand up and licking it clean. “You wanna get up and strip for me, beautiful.” You’re still debating whether it was a question or an order when his hand closes around your throat. “I don't like repeatin’ myself, princess.” 

   The first thing you take off when you stand, is your heels, and all of a sudden you're another three inches shorter than him, which seems to amuse him. 

   “I should definitely put some inches in you,” he jokes, at least you hope so as you watch him lean on his elbows. 

   “Does that work on other people?” you ask, moving your hands behind your back, but failing to find the zipper. 

   JJ sits up, his hands coming to your hips before spinning you around and forcing you back until you can feel his face pressed right above your ass. “It's workin’ on you too,” he says before carefully pulling the zipper down while lifting his head. “Now turn around and take it off, slowly.”

You follow his instructions, turning your face to look at him before slowly letting your body follow. “It's okay if you wanna leave again-” You can't bring out another word because he's already bitten down hard on your belly fat. 

   “Don't fucking say shit like that again. You're fucking gorgeous, and I'm gonna be fuckin’ you stupid, all right? That's a Maybank promise,” JJ gives you a single wink before slapping your ass and making you jump a tiny bit at the pleasant sting. 

   He pushes himself to stand, taking your face in his hand and digging into your full cheeks a little, forcing you to open your mouth. “I should teach you how to give a proper blowjob. But first, we gotta make sure you're so sore you can't walk no more, once I'm done with you.” 

   And with that he forces another kiss on your lips before throwing you onto the bed as if you weigh nothing at all, all the while your friend's words cross your mind, and you want to laugh in her face. A hookup is the completely right decision for losing your virginity, especially when it's JJ Maybank. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi

[drunk-person]

The tomb of liars (The Gossip) P.10

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x cousin!reader

Summary: One of the most talked about gossips among the lower class servants in Kings Landing is the fact (or not) that Aemond Targaryen got involved with his cousin Y/n Targaryen when they were both teenagers. Mainly due to the fact that at the age of 17 she was sent to Old Town overnight. Some employees claim that Aemond was caught between her legs. Some say that, like her father, she had had a horrible fight with her uncle and aunt and was sent away. And other than that none of this happened, she just became interested in the course offered at the Old Town conservatory. But now five years later, Y/n Targaryen is back, and rumors haunt those who favor them.

This chapter is a part of a main story The gossip, you can find the previous chapter, summary and general tags by accessing the link.

Summary of the chapter: Back five years ago, to the tragic night that changed a life and forever altered every dream.

Warnings of the chapter: 18+, pounds and pounds of teenage romance, teenagers being totally crazy and hormonal, teenagers discovering themselves, young love, family fights, dysfunctional family, severe trauma, mentions of depression, religious guilt, mention of purification rituals, no description for reader.

Word count: 16.500 k

A/n: I hope you enjoy the new chapter. For those who want the songs of the chapter: Demons by Boyce Avenue and You've Got A Way by Shania

*The author strongly advises using a tissue box

"Good morning Kings Landing, it seems that Y/n Targaryen, known daughter of Prince Rouge, left our city for an indefinite period of time the night before. The Targaryen family did not inform the reason, the only thing that is known is that apparently she decided to spend some time in Old Town with her aunt's family. Doesn't look much like our girl, does it?"

❦❦❦

After the first time they made love, it became an addiction for Aemond and Y/n that neither of them could give up. It was like when they learned to kiss a few years before, but much worse. And after a few times using condoms, the two decided together that they would like to try without, with that in mind they went stealthily to a pharmacy in the Flea Basin after class to buy birth control pills for Y/n without even looking properly at the pharmacist in the process for fear of being recognized by someone.

Everything got even better if that was possible, neither of them could keep their hands to themselves no matter how hard they tried, their brains seemed to be controlled exclusively by crazy hormones that made them jump on each other whenever they had the chance. Like on a particularly boring night when they went to dinner at the luxurious restaurant of the Aegon's Fort hotel and during dinner the two of them ran off to make out in the hidden bathroom, exchanging kisses uncontrollably amid euphoric laughter.

Little by little they were discovering things about each other's bodies, they became wilder about it and less careful. Like when on a trip to Harrenhall in the ancient history seminar everyone decided to go to a party and as the two of them danced too close to each other, Aemond started saying dirty things in Y/n's ear and caressing her in a way that was too intimate for a dance floor in a public place full of acquaintances. When the club's lights went out during a small power outage, he had two fingers buried deep in her heat, and she sighed against his neck, grabbing him shamelessly.

Every time Viserys traveled on business and took Alicent with him, the two of them do whatever they wanted with the peace of mind that they would not be caught. Like the day they stole a bottle of wine from the cellar and drank it to the end, having gotten terribly drunk for the first time in their lives, alone and hidden in the attic of the mansion.

Dancing to an old song that neither of them knew, but that Aemond had put on to play on the old record player that had been stored away for years. Spinning around on the wooden floor until they could no longer stand and fell onto the carpet, hugging each other and just laughing like idiots lying on the floor while they admired each other, exchanging sweet kisses and soft caresses, talking in characteristic voices with alcohol slurred voices.

-Aemond? - S/n's laughing, alcohol-slurred voice sounded as she stared at him, slightly cross-eyed.

-Hmm? - He stared back at her, laughing, his eyes slightly lost.

-The roof is spinning for me. Is it spinning for you too? - She asked, holding back her laughter and looking up again.

-Yeah. Fucking spinning. - The oldest confirmed, dragging his own hand across the floor until he reached hers and held it affectionately between his fingers.

-How does Aegon manage to do this all the time? - She laid her head to the side, looking at him and laughing at her own dizziness.

-I have no idea, but I'm sure I can't get up from the floor without falling. - Aemond murmured, laughing, caressing the palm of her hand, tracing the lines delicately.

-Do you think they really tell destiny? - Y/n bit her lips curved in a questioning and slightly silly smile. - Hel thinks so.

-Nonsense. - Aemond rolled his eyes a little credulous and his voice slurred. - We chose our own destiny, I chose you to be mine. - He left a kiss on their intertwined hands. - But if they did, your name would definitely be written on mine.

-And yours in mine. - Her eyes shining as she gently pulled him into a kiss full of innocent affection, gently brushing her nose against his while Aemond held her hand firmly next to his.

They both got really good at not getting caught. The problem is that when you get really good at something you tend to underestimate the intelligence of the people around you.

Like the night Aegon found out everything by catching Aemond sucking on S/n's nipple while he fucked her in the pool on a particularly hot midnight, when Viserys and Alicent were traveling once again. It started innocently enough, just like everything else in their lives, the two were just watching a movie cuddled up on the couch when S/n suggested that he could take a dip in the pool since they were alone, making Aemond agree.

They were just swimming around each other while cooling off, splashing each other and laughing. Until when they were both almost at their peak, Aegon's shrill scream echoed throughout the garden along with the sound of the table with an umbrella that was in the pool area falling to the ground when the oldest leaned on it in shock, knocking it over in process.

-You shouldn't be home! - Aemond shouted with his eyes slightly wide as he and Y/n readjusted their underwear to cover themselves. - It should be in your house! What the fuck are you doing here?

-And you two shouldn't be fucking in the fucking pool! - Aegon shouted with his hands on his head, looking around in shock as Aemond got out of the water and went towards him.

-Stop screaming! - Y/n hissed in a whisper and followed Aemond out of the pool with her entire body red with embarrassment, feeling her cheeks burning. - Someone is going to hear you, you idiot!

-You can't tell your mother anything about this! - Aemond spoke very seriously, but with his skin equally flushed, staring at his older brother. - Seriously, Aegon!

-Do you think I'm stupid? - He chuckled ironically, turning his body backwards while rolling his eyes. -Fuck, she’s going to go so crazy when she finds out about this. - The oldest of the three put his hands on his head while cursing visibly in panic. - Damn. Damn. Fuck.

-She won't find out anything! - Aemond hissed. - We're going to tell her! But only in a few years when no one can do anything about it.

-How long have you been doing this? - The oldest whispered, looking from one to the other, still shocked.

-Some time. - Y/n murmured, looking at the back of Aemond's head as she tried to cover herself by wearing his shirt, as she was only wearing her panties and bra when the two jumped into the pool.

-Oh shit! - Aegon made an instant grimace of shock when he heard that.

-What are you doing here anyway? - Aemond hissed, changing the subject as he put on the black shorts he was wearing earlier.

-Jaehaerys forgot that weird stuffed caterpillar Hel gave him here. - Aegon rolled his eyes, momentarily distracted as he spoke about his son. - He doesn't sleep without her.

-You left Jaehaerys alone? - Y/n widened her eyes at the suddenly shrill voice.

-Yes, I left my two-year-old baby alone in my apartment. - The eldest rolled his eyes ironically. - Obviously not Y/n, my maid, Mr. Dancil is with him.

-By the Gods. - Aegon grumbled one last time, looking from his brother to his cousin in deep shock before entering the mansion in search of the stuffed caterpillar with his hands clasped behind his neck.

Just as promised, Aegon didn't say anything about what he had seen in the pool. After the scare that night, both Y/n and Aemond had become more careful about touching in public. But that didn't stop Aemond from leaving love notes or openly depraved notes signed with just an "A" in Y/n's locker every time he passed by on his way to advanced calculus class. Or that he would place his hands on her thighs as they studied at a picnic table tucked away on the school grounds.

-I'm worried, Aem. - She mumbled with a frown, leaning over her books as she felt him caressing soft circles under the hem of her cheer uniform skirt, absentmindedly, while he wrote something in his own notebook with his other hand.

-Mmmm. - He mumbled, frowning, putting the pen aside and staring at her. - What is it?

-I barely understand this subject with your help, I have no idea what I'm going to do in my senior year when you're in college. - She huffed resignedly, making a loose strand of hair fly over her eye.

-You'll do fine either way. - Aemond laughed when he saw a caricature of the calculus teacher with a lightning bolt striking him in the head in the upper corner of Y/n's book and smiled drumming his fingers gently on her leg. - You shouldn't underestimate yourself so much. You got a good grade on the last test.

-You know very well that I looked at Elyrio's answers on that test Aem. - She sighed laughingly, looking at him from under her eyelashes.

-And you know very well that that's cheating. - He murmured ironically, drawing a gentle circle on her thigh with his fingertips.

-Only if I get caught! - She rolled her eyes, biting her lower lip as she arched her eyebrow at him laughingly.

-I can't wait to be free of all this and be able to do only what I want. - She smiled, still lying her head on the picnic table, imagining the future.

-Just a year and a half. - Aemond murmured with a slight smile on his lips, lightly squeezing her thigh under her skirt. - And we will be far from all this, starting our own lives.

Her eyes lit up instantly when she heard him say those words, and with a smile Aemond guided his free hand to her hair, leaving a gentle caress on her scalp, continuing to speak in a low and cheerful voice.

-I've even looked at some apartments for us, temporary of course. Just until we finish the college, so we can get rid of all this madness and buy our own home. - He smiled beautifully at her. - You'll love one of them, it's in Aegon's building, but it has a beautiful view.

Y/n had to restrain herself with all her strength not to jump on him and kiss him right there when she heard him talking so lovingly about the plans he had for the two of them.

-I'll make everything beautiful! - She smiled excitedly, looking at him, already lifting her head from the table. - We could paint the walls yellow, what do you think? It would bring joy to the environment, buildings are so sad. - She curled her lips thoughtfully. - And plants! - Y/n smiled even more, closing her eyes and imagining. - I'll put several of them everywhere, with lots of flowers.

-Don't put plants near my books, Highness. - He rolled his eyes. - Or it will make them grow mold.

-Okay. - Y/n was barely listening as she imagined everything with excitement and Aemond couldn't help but smile just by seeing her smiling.

-I have to go to fencing. - He rolled his eyes when he saw that free time was almost over.

-Oh you won't believe it… - She smiled mischievously biting her lower lip and staring at him.

-What did you do?

-I convinced the student council that the fencing team needs cheerleaders as much as any other team in the school… this means... - She winked at Aemond gracefully making him laugh and shake his head negatively. - Saturday I'll be there courtside with my pom poms cheering for you!

-The correct term is piste. - He smiled ironically, unable to stop himself from pulling her into a hug and murmuring against her hair.

-Whatever, I'll root for you to destroy them all anyway. - She laughed, rolling her eyes and placing a kiss on his cheek that left a pink lipstick mark.

❦❦❦

The months seemed to fly by, Aemond's 18th birthday had arrived and with it the end of summer vacation. Y/n and he had taken a month-long trip to Dorne with the excuse of visiting Helaena at college together, the two of them actually visited her but obviously did a lot more in their free time. With Y/n driving Aemond crazy and buying almost half the clothes in the city. While he rolled his eyes and said that if she was good and had the kindness to go with him to the main bookstore he could let her play designer with him.

It had been an incredible month, the two of them living alone in Dorne doing only what they wanted, he almost forgot that there was a life beyond that. It was almost like in their dreams where there was only love and happiness, but now they were home again and reality called.

Aemond was lying on the bed motionless, stared at the ceiling. He was going to college on Monday, and had seriously thought about staying at home for another year and moving out only the following year, but the reason would be too obvious and they didn't want to raise any more suspicions.

He and Y/n could do this, they would see each other whenever possible since he was going to KLU (Kings Landing University). When they asked if he didn't want to study abroad, Aemond promptly replied that he would like to study in Kings Landing, since one of the best and oldest universities was in the city and he could do an internship at the family company. Omitting the main reason, Y/n was in Kings Landing, and he wouldn't go anywhere without her.

The sound of the door slowly opening took him out of his thoughts and he smiled when he saw Y/n entering his room wearing a pearly satin cardigan down to her knees. She locked the door behind her and with a smile ran towards Aemond's bed, throwing the cardigan aside, jumping on the sheets and crawling under the duvet.

-Come here. - Aemond pulled her into a side hug and she laid her head against his bare chest.

Y/n caressed his hand and looked at him from under her eyelashes, Aemond immediately knew that she wanted something and was not finding the words to tell him.

-What happened? - He asked, caressing her cheek with his fingertips.

And Y/n, still unable to find words, brought her hand to his chin and pulled him in for a kiss. The two continued kissing languidly in sync, and she climbed onto Aemond's lap, sitting on his thighs, making the grayish nightgown she was wearing rise up her own thighs.

She stared at Aemond as she bit her lower lip gently and nervously reached for the hem of her nightgown, pulling it up and revealing her completely naked body underneath. And even though by now Aemond had seen her naked hundreds of times, he was still mesmerized by the sight of her beautiful body.

-Happy birthday. - She said, looking at him slightly shyly, which was confusing Aemond since Y/n hadn't been shy around him for a while. She walked around naked in front of him as if it were nothing, she was confident in her own body because she knew Aemond idolized it. And suddenly he worried that he had done something that had made her insecure.

-Did I do something that made you uncomfortable? - He asked as he gently stroked her waist and looked into her eyes.

-No, I just want to do something different today. - She sighed, looking into his eyes. - Something we've never done before.

-What? - He asked curiously, still caressing her waist.

Y/n placed her hands over Aemond's, removing them from her waist and guiding them to her ass, and sighing when she felt Aemond squeeze her gently.

-Y/n. - Aemond looked at her very seriously as he began to understand the connotation of what she meant.

-This is your gift. The last part of me that hasn't been yours yet. - She said against his neck with a soft and gentle voice as she left a gentle kiss on the scar on his shoulder.

-You don't need to do that. - He sighed against her soft hair, feeling that sweet and soft scent that made his soul happy. - I never asked you to do that. - Aemond looked into her eyes with nothing but affection as he caressed her bare back with his fingertips. - You don't need to feel like you have to do anything to please me, you know that.

-I want Aem. - She smiled with her hands against his cheeks, caressing him sweetly with the tips of her thumbs, tracing every mark and every line on Aemond's skin. - I want you in every way and in every possible way. - She murmured, looking into his eyes with such a passionate glow that Aemond almost lost his breath.

-I would let you do anything to me, and however you wanted because I know that with you it will always be good. - She slowly traced his soft lips with the tip of her index finger, smiling with a candid look that did not match at all the situation they were in. - Please Aemond, accept my gift.

-I love you. - He murmured very quietly close to her, his lips almost touching the shell of her ear.

That night, like every part of herself that Y/n had ever offered him, Aemond accepted willingly, taking her for himself with passion and desire, completely aware of the fact that Y/n was totally and entirely his, with every piece of herself that she was able to give him.

❦❦❦

It was being harder than they both imagined to get through that year. Aemond had no idea how bad it would be not to see Y/n every day and night and how much he would miss her. The two exchanged calls and messages, but it still wasn't enough. They met religiously in the meadow near Kings Wood every Saturday morning and would lie on the flowers talking for hours to kill the longing, laughing hugging each other while looking at the white clouds in the sky.

-I'm going to stay in the dorm until the end of the year, I don't want to move without you. - He whispered to her in the second week, when after he complained about the noise the other students were making, Y/n suggested that he leave right away and go to the apartment, making her roll her eyes and hug him tightly.

Aemond took advantage of those moments to help Y/n with the work and tasks that she couldn't understand, and almost always ended up doing her calculus homework while rolling his eyes and saying that this was the last time, as he always did every time he did her homework since they were both children.

One of the days after Aemond said that he would probably have to give up fighting or fencing for a while while he adapted to college, the two ended up once again with Aemond trying to teach some moves to Y/n, who just smiled and left occasional kisses on his chin, making him roll his eyes.

-Every time we do this I feel like I'm in kung fu panda. - She laughed, biting her lower lip and looking at him, not taking it seriously. - It's like I'm Po and you're Master Shi-fu.

-First of all, this drawing doesn't make sense. - Aemond rolled his eyes, grabbing her arm and gently turning her around, keeping her trapped against his body. - And if we were there, I'd definitely be Po and you'd be Tigress.

-I like that! - She laughed without caring about being trapped by his arms looking at him over her shoulder. - I want a stuffed panda bear now to name him Aemond!

-Mmmmm. - Aemond rolled his eyes deeply, throwing his head back as he moaned at her words.

-You're the one who gave me the idea. - She laughed, kissing his neck.

On the days when Aemond arrived first to the meadow, which was almost every time, Y/n would find him waiting for her with a smile and a bouquet of freshly picked colorful flowers in his hand, always telling her how much he had missed her during the week while leaving a soft kiss on the younger girl's forehead and pulling her into a hug soon after.

-Bad week? - He smiled against Y/n's hair who sighed with her head lying against his chest holding the bouquet in her hands as she gently ran her fingers over the petals.

-I think you'd better not be too close to me today. - She pulled away when she coughed a little, and then rolled her eyes. - I did a biology project with Pia Rosby and she was sick, she probably passed it on to me.

-You better go to the doctor soon. - Aemond frowned. - You almost never get sick.

-I know! - Y/n rolled her eyes even deeper with a slightly shrill voice. - Damn Pia Rosby!

Aemond just laughed, pulling her back to him.

-Aemond! - She scolded, pushing him by the shoulders. - I told you, you're going to get sick!

-I don't care much, I can only see you once a week, I'm not going to waste it. If I get sick, it's the will of the gods. - He murmured laughing and kissed her again making Y/n roll her eyes and reluctantly returned the kiss.

She did get sick, but Aemond didn't; something he made a point of mocking by stating how good his immunity was, making Y/n deeply roll her eyes at the phone during the call in which the two talked about it. They were both really excited since Y/n was better after almost a week, and at the weekend the family would travel together for Corlys Velaryon's birthday in Driftmark and the two could finally spend more than a few hours together.

Practically all the important families of Westeros were present when the night of the ball finally arrived. Aemond and Y/n didn't care at all, the two were just too busy around each other, laughing and talking in the corners while they thought no one was watching them.

-Alicent, don't you think all this closeness between Aemond and Y/n is strange? - Oto asked with serrated lips and a frown as he watched the two dancing together around the room.

-Nonsense. - The youngest waved her hand at her father with a dismissive look, more concerned with watching Aegon who was drinking and laughing with some acquaintances.

-They're just friends. - She shrugged, looking at them briefly and then looking away back at her eldest son. - They both have difficulty getting close to people, they became friends right away. Y/n is a good girl, she's innocent, she always goes with me to the sept, I don't see any problems.

-Last week I heard her telling the septa that she hadn't even had her first kiss yet. - Alicent murmured, making light of the matter and with a hint of pride in her voice.

-I think it's best to keep your eyes open about what Aemond and that girl might be doing, you know, my daughter, tongues talk, and the apple usually doesn't fall far from the tree. - Oto grumbled between his teeth, staring fixedly at Aemond and Y/n. - We don't want another problem.

Alicent looked once more in the direction of her son and niece, frowning softly as she watched Aemond spin her around and then lay her back while they both laughed, looking at each other happily, but with a strange glint in their eyes that suddenly made a new wrinkle appear on her forehead.

-Did you know that this…

-Was one of your mother's favorite songs? - Aemond concluded for her with an arched eyebrow and a sideways smile, making the youngest laugh and throw her head back.

-Yeah, you know. - She laughed even more when he spun her around and turned her back towards him.

-And that this is your favorite too? - He asked, still with the smug sideways smile on his lips, making Y/n roll her eyes deeply and restrain herself with all her might not to kiss him right there in response.

-I think it suits us. - She shrugged her shoulders smiling. - You make me feel that way. - Y/n looked down at her feet before looking at Aemond again and continuing. - Hopeful… beloved…

-Because I love you. - He murmured with his heart racing, sweetly caressing the base of her back with the tips of his fingers making her smile.

-I love you too, Aem. - She whispered only for him to hear, her eyes shining with joy.

-I think this circus will never end so I can love you right. - He rolled his eyes, snorting and looking around the party, which seemed far from over. - It's been two months.

-Last week. - She rolled her eyes, laughing as the two went further and further into the corner, away from the dance floor.

-That day in the meadow doesn't count. - He whispered, rolling his eyes. - We both didn't even take off our clothes. I want to take good care of you, the way I know you like it. - He smiled against her ear, making her blush, and then he twirled her around one last time before the song ended.

Both Y/n and Aemond couldn't wait for the celebrations to end, but as Corlys was a man who liked to demonstrate his status, the party seemed to never end. It was well after midnight when hundreds of fireworks were launched into the sky from barges at sea, forming the shape of a flaming seahorse in the night sky. According to him, the seahorse was for him and the fire was for his beloved wife Rhaenys.

Aemond and Y/n just looked at each other to know that the two were thinking about the same thing, and while everyone was distracted admiring the fireworks on the beach, the two ran to Y/n's room while laughing and kissing in the slightly dark hallways, since there was no one there at the time.

They had just fallen onto the bed, still dressed, when Y/n's cell phone alarm went off and she groaned angrily, getting up and taking a medicine pack from her bag.

-Is it the contraceptive? - Aemond frowned when he saw the yellow pill, different from the usual one.

-No, it's the disgusting antibiotic that tastes like rotten fruit that I'm having to take. - She grimaced before putting the medicine in her mouth and swallowing it with some water in pure disgust.

-Thank you again Pia Rosby! - She muttered ironically, rolling her eyes as she pulled the zipper of her dress that was already open to the middle of her back and walked towards him again.

-Are you eating right? - He frowned very seriously as he asked while gently holding her behind her thighs. - This kind of medicine is really strong.

-Yeah. - Y/n smiled, rolling her eyes and nodding. - I even cut out sugar this week, and you didn't even have to pay Daeron to keep bothering me.

-I didn't need it? - He raised his eyebrows, pulling her by thighs and making her fall on top of him.

-Okay, maybe needed a little. - She laughed, pouting and kissing him, tangling her hands in his cousin's silver hair.

Hours later Aemond was lying on Y/n's naked body with his head resting in the valley between her breasts breathing slowly as he felt the rhythmic beats of her heart. His right hand was resting on her belly, gently caressing the area with his fingertips.

-I can't wait for us to be married. - He smiled, leaving a chaste kiss on the soft skin between her breasts. - And that you're pregnant with our children.

-Do you think we should wait? - Y/n sighed, feeling his touch. - Until we finish college? I don't know if I can wait that long! - She smiled, looking at him, biting her lower lip while her eyes sparkled with joy.

-Maybe a year or two. - He shrugged, smiling and looking at her from under his eyelashes. - Just until we've adjusted.

-And then. - He left another sweet kiss between her breasts and then went down to her belly, placing a loving kiss there. - We'll have our child.

Y/n practically vibrated with joy below Aemond, a smile from ear to ear on her lips. Overcome by joy, she pulled him up again, leaning forward and leaving a kiss of pure love on Aemond's soft lips.

-I love you! - She sighed after the kiss, brushing her nose against his.

-I love you too. - He murmured with his eyes closed, lost in the caress of her arms, the curtain of his silver silky hair falling over them both.

The sun was already rising when Aemond got dressed and returned to his own room after leaving a few kisses on Y/n's sleepy face, who only laughed and grumbled. The two barely heard the conversations at the family breakfast table, Y/n was too busy trying to make Jaehaerys eat some mashed fruit, since Aegon stared into space, sprawled with the coffee cup in his hand, while Aemond was too busy watching her take care of her nephew while smiling.

-What do you think, Aemond? - Viserys's voice sounded excited, pulling him into the conversation at the table and making him look at his father with a confused look.

-I'm sorry, I was a little distracted. - He cleared his throat and adjusting his posture in the chair under his mother's attentive gaze. - What was the question?

-Corlys and I are going to travel to Vale to close a deal with Jane. - Viserys smiled, taking a sip of juice and cutting the eggs on the plate. - Maybe you should take advantage of the break and come along. It's like my father used to say, college is good, but nothing like real life to learn business.

-That would be great, father. - Aemond smiled slightly and he didn't know if his heart was racing for the opportunity or for the look of pride Y/n gave him as she held Jaehaerys in her arms.

❦❦❦

The trip lasted longer than Viserys expected, and what was supposed to be a week turned into a fruitful trip lasting almost 20 days; since they had gone down to Rune Stone to settle some business with Y/n's uncle who had taken over the company after Rhea's death years ago. Aemond's excitement at being there was almost palpable even though he tried to hide it, looking fondly at the green meadow that Y/n had described to him so many times when they were both children as being her favorite place to play, or just lie down while her mother told her a story and they ate cookies together.

Thinking about it only made his heart ache with longing for her, because since they had met that was the longest amount of time the two had spent apart. Aemond had already found it bad that they only saw each other on Saturdays, but spending all those days without being able to see her, without being able to hear her laugh in person and without being able to touch her… was almost killing him. The calls and messages did very little to help them both.

The afternoon they finally returned to Kings Landing, Aemond didn't even set foot in his college dorm. He went to the mansion with his father smiling and eager to see Y/n in person and tell her about the trip.

-Son, I'm glad you stopped by here before returning to campus. - Alicent caressed his hair, carefully placing a crooked strand in the appropriate place. - I missed you, I hope everything went well.

-Everything went great, Corlys really has a lot to teach. - He murmured, shifting his eyes to the stairs unconsciously. - I just came to pick up a book that I think will be useful. If you'll excuse me mom. - He smiled and left a kiss on Alicent's hand before walking up the stairs, making her roll her eyes at her son's always so gentle manner, but then frown in distrust immediately after seeing him go up the stairs so quickly.

As soon as he opened the door to Y/n's room, he saw her sitting on the bench near the window, looking out over the mansion's wide garden, turning around at the same moment he heard the door click.

-Aemond! - She jumped on him with a huge smile on her lips as soon as she saw him, her heart racing in her chest with longing and anxiety after almost a whole month away as she hugged him affectionately. - How was the trip?

-Absurdly instructive in every way it should be, but totally boring without you. - He kissed her on the lips as he said this. - You know, all this made me think that I can't wait for us to be together next year. - Aemond pulled her even closer to him. - Without having to hide from my mother, so you can run to me and wait for me at the door whenever I come home.

-We'll just hide from everyone else on campus. - He rolled his eyes ironically, leaving a small peck on his lips.

-Mmm, they find our whole family strangely disturbed. They won't be that shocked unless we exchange kisses in public. - He shrugged, making her laugh and throw her head back.

-I can't wait to move in with you either, and you know it! - She stood on tiptoe, giving him a kiss on the nose.

-I brought some gifts for you. - He murmured, hugging her with devotion while he felt her practically rubbing her cheek against his neck.

-I love gifts. - She sighed, smiling close to his ear, making him tighten the hug even more.

-I know that. - Aemond smiled against her hair, leaving a kiss there.

-I brought a dress from one of those stores you're always talking about. - He left a kiss against her ear as he spoke, making Y/n laugh and tilt her head towards his lips with a spasm.

-What color?

-White.

-Did you buy me a wedding dress? - She pulled away, looking at him laughing and arching her eyebrows as she bit her lower lip.

-Not yet. - Aemond sighed and left a soft kiss on her lips.

Little by little the two walked, until they fell sitting together on the same bench below the window, with Y/n sitting on Aemond's lap while he held her firmly close to him.

-How are things in Rune Stone? - She asked quietly, her head resting on his shoulder. - Did my uncle ask about me?

-Yes. - Aemond smiled slightly as he said that, his heart relieved that the man had asked about Y/n's well-being, since he knew she would be upset if he hadn't even remembered and Aemond couldn't lie to her, even if it was for a reason like that.

-He said he would like to come to the capital to see you but he doesn't have time since business is booming with the trade agreements your mother had made years ago that have started to pay off.

-Really? - Y/n smiled, hugging him even tighter and smiling against his chest, feeling a warmth in her chest when she heard those words along with a devastating feeling of pride at knowing that the work her mother had done in life was still thriving.

-Mmm. - Aemond nodded softly, stroking her hair carefully so as not to mess it up. - Rune Stone is really beautiful.

-We could travel there in the summer. - Y/n suggested very excitedly, leaning on Aemond's shoulders to sit better on his thighs.

-I think that would be great. - He murmured, leaving a soft caress on her hand. - By the way, I brought you something from Rune Stone.

-What?

-A teddy bear. - He laughed, holding her waist firmly. - Guess which one.

-A rabbit?

-No, Mr. Bunny would be jealous if he had to share you with another rabbit. - Aemond rolled his eyes, kissing her neck. - He took after me in that aspect.

-I don't know, then. - She laughed, clinging to him. - A cat maybe? Or a bird?

-No and no. - He laughed, hugging her tightly. - The chances are over.

-What was it then? - She smiled anxiously, leaving a kiss on his chin and neck.

-A panda.

Y/n stood still instantly with her eyes shining in a laughing smile.

-No way. - She got up, adjusting her slightly wrinkled clothes.

-Where are you going? - Aemond raised his eyebrow, looking at her.

-I want my dress and my bear. - She smiled, heading towards the door as if it were obvious, and rolling his eyes, he followed her.

The two of them were walking down the stairs laughing when they found Alicent halfway down, looking at them with a strange look on her face, and for a moment Y/n felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, as if the temperature had dropped 10 degrees in 10 seconds.

-Were you together already? - She asked, raising her eyebrow.

Y/n didn't know what to say at that moment, since her aunt had never cared about the amount of time the two spent together.

-I went to call Y/n to come down. - Aemond took the lead with a carefree voice as he shrugged. - I brought her something from Rune Stone.

-Very kind of you, isn't it Y/n? - Alicent smiled at her and momentarily Y/n managed to breathe again.

-Yes, aunt, but Aemond is always very attentive. - She smiled, looking away at the oldest. - It's in his nature to be like that.

-Not with everyone. - Alicent slightly narrowed her eyes. - Let's all go down, dinner is served. You can give her a gift later, Aemond.

Leaving no room for discussion, Alicent turned around, going down the stairs and waiting for the two on the last steps. With no escape, they went straight down to the dining room, where Viserys was already sitting at the table while the servants made the final adjustments.

-Aegon isn't coming to dinner today? - The patriarch asked, looking toward the door with a frown. - I would like to see Jaehaerys.

-Lyan is in town and asked to see Jaehaerys. - Alicent muttered irritably, pulling the chair to sit down. - As if she really cared about the boy!

Dinner went smoothly after that, until Alicent noticed Y/n who was just moving the food from side to side on the plate instead of eating, since dinner was usually the meal where she ate the most with everyone together at the table talking.

-Darling, is everything okay? - Alicent asked sweetly, looking at her worriedly. - You barely ate breakfast today.

The moment Alicent said that, Aemond raised his eyebrows and looked at Y/n, because he had already told her at least a hundred times not to skip breakfast or eat junk food early in the morning, since she always got sick in the afternoon when she did that.

-Yes, I am, auntie. - She laughed embarrassedly, playing with the food on her plate. - I just shouldn't have eaten all that chocolate earlier.

-Y/n, you're an adult now, I don't need to tell you anymore that you can't eat sugar out of hours. - Alicent murmured with a frown. - I don't want you to end up getting sick.

-Sorry, aunt. - She smiled. - I know you're worried, it's just that Rhaenyra brought those from Essos that I love.

-I already told Rhaenyra not to bring that junk home or she'll end up killing one of you. - Alicent muttered irritably, looking at her own plate, while Aemond continued to stare at Y/n.

-She doesn't mean anything wrong, my dear, she just wants to be kind. - Viserys smiled at his wife, gently taking her hand.

-She does it to affront me because I've told her a million times not to! - She hissed, glaring at her husband.

-I had brought a box of madeleines for you from the Vale, we can open them tomorrow. - Aemond muttered, taking advantage of his parents' argument.

-By the Gods, I never want to see madeleines in front of me again. - She muttered with a slightly disgusted look, making Aemond frown, since the youngest had been crazy about this sweet since they were both children.

-Are you sure you're okay?

-Yes, I just ate a little too much. - She whispered, rolling her eyes. - I was really craving it, so Daeron and I went to the flour street, bought two boxes and ate them while watching TV, but I must have eaten too much because I felt a little sick afterwards.

-I'll have to stay with my mother on this one. - Aemond rolled his eyes, gently stroking her hand under the tablecloth. - You can't eat that much sugar, you know that diabetes is hereditary.

-I know. - She murmured, biting her lower lip and tilting her head to the side with a subtle side smile. - I swear I'll take it easy with the sweets.

-What are you talking about? - Alicent's voice sounded, interrupting the conversation, making Aemond frown in confusion at the strange way his mother was suddenly acting.

-I'm just telling Y/n to cut down on the sugar. - He replied with an arched eyebrow. - Where's Daeron? I haven't seen him since I arrived.

-He's studying at a friend's house, he must be in home soon. - Alicent muttered, looking at her golden wristwatch.

Shortly after the servants began to clear the table, the housekeeper came to Alicent, warning her that Oto was on the phone waiting for her, making the older woman get up and leave them, followed by Viserys, who still had some travel paperwork to organize.

-You have a knack for business, Aemond. - He muttered as he left the room, making Y/n give her cousin a bright smile, who rolled his eyes and pulled her by the hand towards the back living room where their bags were, taking advantage of the fact that Alicent had finally left them alone.

-Have you noticed my mother? - He muttered, pulling the zipper of the suitcase and staring at her. - She's been acting strange.

-She was normal until this morning. - Y/n frowned in confusion. - We went to the sept together yesterday as we always do, nothing extraordinary. Do you think something's wrong?

-I must be just being paranoid. - He shrugged, finally opening the suitcase and taking some things out.

-It wouldn't be the first time. - She laughed, rolling her eyes and then widening them when she saw the teddy bear that Aemond took out of a blue bag.

-Gods, he's so cute. - She smiled, taking it from Aemond's hand with a soft pout on her lips, lowering her voice to almost a whisper before speaking. - I could kiss you right now, you know?

Looking around quickly, Aemond pulled her by the cheeks and placed a soft kiss on her lips, making the younger girl smile against his lips, kissing him back languidly while holding the bear tightly with one hand. The two broke off the kiss, jumping away from each other the moment they heard the sound of the back garden door opening, both with wide eyes, relaxing gently when they saw Daeron come in whistling and throwing his sneakers to the corner before jumping onto the couch, laughing.

-So, how was your trip, big bro? - The younger smiled, lying down on the couch and looking at Y/n and Aemond upside down, frowning when he saw their red faces. - Are you two okay?

-Yup.

-Of course, why wouldn't I be?

The two spoke in a jumbled way at the same time, leaving Daeron even more confused.

-Okay, you guys are weirder than normal today and your normal is already bizarre. - Daeron raised his eyebrows, still staring at the two upside down, until his eyes focused on the stuffed panda in Y/n's hands and he stood up with his eyes shining.

-Where did this bear come from?

-Aemond brought it for me from his trip. - Y/n smiled, inevitably looking at the eldest with a look so passionate that anyone who looked closely could notice.

-And what did I get? - Daeron raised his eyebrow, looking at his older brother very seriously, making Aemond hold his breath for a moment.

-Mmmm…..- After a few moments of thinking he saw the ornate box of madeleines inside the suitcase and smiled pulling it towards the youngest.

-A box of madeleines.

Daeron smiled mischievously, accepting the box of fine sweets from his brother's hands.

-I know this wasn't for me, but I'll accept it anyway because of your lack of consideration for your little brother. - Daeron said laughingly, then jumping over the back of the sofa and running out of the room laughing before Aemond could reach him.

-I'll be in my room playing video games, just make me take off my headphones if someone dies! - He yelled from the stairs.

-Little pest. - The older man muttered, rolling his eyes with a small sideways smile, as he took a package wrapped in purple tissue paper from his suitcase, looking in Y/n's direction right after and handing it to her, who received it eagerly.

-Aem… it's beautiful. - She smiled exultantly when she saw the white dress that should reach her knees.

-It's just like the one you said you wanted the other day. - He smiled, caressing her cheek with the back of his fingers. - Did you like it?

-I loved it! - She smiled, hugging him and leaving a kiss on his neck.

-Put it on for me then. - He murmured against her hair, and Y/n nodded positively, still smiling, already standing up and pulling Aemond's hands with her.

The two went up to the rooms via the back service stairs, laughing and occasionally exchanging kisses, almost dying of fright when one of the maids appeared at the end of the hallway and almost caught the two in the middle of a kiss, but it wasn't the first time that had happened, so the two just entered Aemond's room in a hurry, gently slamming the door behind them.

-Ok, turn your back. - She asked holding the dress to her chest, leaving the bear on her cousin's coffee table. Aemond frowned, slightly arching his eyebrow as he looked at her ironically.

-That's not the point. - Y/n rolled her eyes at him, grabbing him by the shoulders and turning his back while he smiled. - It's supposed to surprise you.

-I'll be surprised anyway. - He murmured with a small smile on his lips, making her leave the little kiss on them before going to the other side of the room to change her clothes.

-You can look. – You can look. - She murmured softly a few moments later and Aemond turned around almost at the same moment, seeing her wearing the beautiful white dress that whether he wanted to or not, made him think about how beautiful she would look wearing a wedding dress.

-Do you like it? - She asked, smiling and smoothing the skirt of the dress carefully.

-Really need to ask? - He curved his eyebrow with a look of enchantment, admiring her, then gently taking her hand and turning it around, making the skirt of the dress flow softly around her as he watched her with devotion.

-You're beautiful.

Y/n just laughed throwing her head back as she spun around and felt Aemond's gentle touch against her skin.

-What are you thinking about? - She whispered with her lips smiling close to his ear, hugging him closer and closer.

-How beautiful you'll look wearing a wedding dress for me. - He murmured against her hair, hugging her back and pulling her towards him, making Y/n smile even more against his neck.

-And you? - He whispered back to her. - What are you thinking about?

-How much I love you. - She murmured, kissing his neck softly. - How much I want to marry you soon, to be yours forever.

-You're mine forever. - He whispered, brushing his lips against hers. - Love you. - He murmured before finally kissing her properly, drawing a sigh from Y/n's lips and making her almost melt against his arms.

-I miss you. - Aemond sighed against her ear, pulling her closer and closer until they both fell onto his made bed.

-Me too. - Y/n mounted him, placing one leg on each side and kissing him languidly while Aemond moved his hands up and down her back, waist and hips, squeezing her with devotion.

In pure affection and adoration, he undid the satin ties that held the dress to her shoulders, gently pulling it down little by little, exposing Y/n's beautiful skin, on which he distributed soft kisses.

-So beautiful, my love. - He sighed, putting his head between her breasts. - So beautiful to me.

-Wait… - She gasped under his touch, making Aemond stop kissing and look at her confused.

-You're going to wrinkle my new dress. - Y/n complained, making him laugh softly in a nasal way, supporting himself on the mattress with his hands while she got up and finished taking off her dress, folding it carefully and placing it on top of the stuffed bear.

-Protecting those poor innocent eyes? - Aemond joked since Y/n always covered Mr. Bunny's eyes when they made love in her room, while he pulled her by the thighs to climb on top of him again, making her roll her eyes, pulling the hem of his shirt and throwing it carelessly on the bed.

The two rolled around in the sheets lost in each other's touch, Aemond didn't even realize when he had taken off his pants, but he knew he was only in his underwear between Y/n's legs, who was completely naked for him, while he kissed her more and more deeply.

-Be careful, they are a bit sensitive. - Y/n sighed when he kissed her breasts, and Aemond nodded gently, kissing her even more.

Y/n panted and sighed, every touch from Aemond was a wave of happiness in her body and she was always yearning for more. Her back arched against the sheets amidst slight tremors of pleasure as Aemond tortured her with his mouth between her thighs, occasionally murmuring dirty things, or how much he loved her, making her throw her head back in ecstasy, feeling her legs tremble on the verge of climax.

Lost amidst the euphoria, neither of them heard the sound of the door opening and the light footsteps entering the room. It was there, at that moment that suddenly everything went to hell as the door to Aemond's room opened without warning and Alicent entered distractedly calling him.

-Aemond, your father asked… - She didn't finish the question before emitting a horrified scream that echoed through the walls of the room, when she saw her son between Y/n's legs while the girl was lying among the pillows with her eyes closed and clinging to him.

Aemond instantly got off of Y/n while trying to cover both of their nakedness with a sheet as fast as he could, hiding Y/n's body behind his own. The two of them looked scared like two deer caught in the headlights, motionless and unable to form a word that made sense.

-Mom… what. - Aemond could barely form a coherent sentence, his heart racing in panic while he could feel Y/n's heart racing against his back. - Both of us… we..

-By the Gods, everyone told me something was wrong, everyone did. - Alicent scolded with bloodshot eyes and her hands resting on her head looking in the direction of the two. - But I said no.

-Aunt. - Y/n cried to Alicent wrapped in Aemond's sheets, still hidden behind his body trying to hide her own nakedness.

-Don't call me aunt! I took you in as a daughter when you were nothing more than a poisonous viper. - Alicent screamed lividly, going towards the bed and stopping when she saw the dress and the teddy bear on the table, her eyes burning even more with anger at that moment.

Aemond didn't even get dressed, he just grabbed the shirt that Y/n had thrown on the bed moments ago, and with trembling hands he put it over his cousin's head trying to preserve it, while she shrank closer and closer to him, barely able to move to put on her panties under the sheets with Alicent's shrill screams echoing through the room.

-This is an affront to the seven, an affront to our family! - Alicent screamed louder and louder. - Do you have the slightest idea what would happen if someone found out about this?

-Aemond, my son, how could you let yourself be corrupted by this… this… tramp! - Her voice dripped venom and anger.

Y/n felt those words as if they were a slap in her face. Her sweet aunt, who had taken such good care of her throughout her life, looking at her with disgust, as if she were the lowest trash she had ever seen in her life, and addressing her in such a cruel way.

-That's enough, mother! - Aemond hissed back with a deadly look, putting on the pants that were thrown on the floor, briefly moving away from Y/n to do so. - You're not going to talk about her like that!

Alicent found herself even more horrified, if that was possible. Aemond had never raised his voice to her in his entire life. Never, not once had he done anything other than obey. And now here he was, yelling at her while standing in front of Y/n defensively.

Y/n in turn felt exposed, barely able to move on the bed, tightly holding onto Aemond's arm, who was standing in front of her, staring at her mother. The once safe environment of the room now felt cold and hateful, with the walls seeming to compact on them with each passing second.

-Get your hands off him, you manipulative snake! - Alicent shouted angrily, walking quickly towards the bed and pulling Y/n's arm tightly away from Aemond's protective touch, pulling her out of the bed, making Y/n squeal with the sudden pull, trying to move her arm away. from the angry touch of the aunt.

-Don't touch her! - Aemond shouted, trying to make Alicent let go of Y/n, his hands were shaking as were his lips.

-Auntie… please stop it! - Y/n begged through tears, feeling Alicent's unshakable grip compressing her arm as the older woman tried to pull her away from Aemond, who in turn tried to hold his mother in desperation.

-What in the seven hells is happening here? - Viserys' voice thundered through the room, leaving everything suddenly silent, making Alicent finally let go of Y/n's arm, who was hugged by Aemond at the same time as the two walked away from Alicent, trembling and with frightened eyes.

-Viserys, this girl has desecrated our home! - Alicent screeched, going towards her husband with bloodshot eyes. - You don't know the filthy act that I witnessed when I entered this room!

Viserys barely breathed as he looked in the direction of Aemond and Y/n, finding them half-naked, she only wearing Aemond's shirt and panties and he only wearing his pants still unbuttoned. Both disheveled and clinging to each other, Y/n crying and Aemond looking on the verge of tears as he hovered in front of Y/n protectively. The messy bed further evidenced what kind of unholy activities Alicent was referring to.

-What did you two do. - Viserys muttered tiredly, bringing his hand to his forehead and then sliding it to the bridge of his nose, his tone not a question, it was almost a disgusted statement.

-It was her! - Alicent scolded. - She did! I shouldn't have accepted this idea of yours of bringing this girl here knowing who her father is! She corrupted my son!

-That's enough mom! - Aemond shouted again when he heard her talk that way about Y/n and when he felt his cousin sobbing softly against his skin. -Father, that's not true. - He looked very seriously at Viserys.

-Madam, is everything ok here? - A maid's voice echoed through the hallway, making Alicent's eyes widen and she practically ran towards the door, slamming it hard.

-Get out of here! - She shouted at the woman before she reached the bedroom door. - I don't want anyone out of the kitchen until further notice, anyone who leaves there without being called will be thrown into the street!

-Alicent… do you think it's sensible… - Viserys started but was interrupted by her at the same moment.

-What is sensible, Viserys? Let the employees see this depravity and go around spreading what happened here everywhere? - She scoffed rolling her eyes at her husband. - No, absolutely not! I will not let Aemond be tarnished like this in front of everyone!

-For the love of the gods, Alicent, let's at least talk about this somewhere else. - Viserys said, looking around where the dress Y/n had worn to dinner was still visible discarded on the floor next to the table, as well as the strong smell still present in the air in the stuffy room.

Alicent's eyes went in the same direction as Viserys', hovering again over the white dress and the teddy bear, which she clutched tightly under the watchful eye of Aemond, who was still paralyzed on the other side of the room, holding Y/n tightly against him.

Y/n only had time to put on a pair of shorts and Aemond a shirt, before they were taken by the elders to Viserys' office, both without making a sound, just holding on to each other exchanging frightened looks, feeling a weight so heavy in their hearts that it almost suffocated them both.

The path to the office seemed to be hundreds of miles long while the ground beneath them seemed to burn them as much as Alicent's glare against their backs, the sound of the door closing behind them sounded more like the sound of a saddle than anything else in the world.

-When did this start? - Viserys finally asked firmly, looking at the two very seriously with Alicent at his side.

-Father, it wasn't like that my mother is making it out to be. - Aemond took the lead, taking a deep breath before caressing Y/n's arm protectively. - It's not a dirty thing… it's not like that… we… - He took another breath before continuing. - We both love each other, father. I love Y/n. I always did.

There was no uncertainty in Aemond's voice, much less in his gaze. Everything about him emanated determination and strength, as he openly declared his love and tried to reassure Y/n through soft touches.

-We were going to tell the truth eventually. -He murmured, pulling Y/n even closer to him. - Father, I want to marry Y/n.

Alicent thought she was going to die when she heard those words. The pieces slowly fell into place in Alicent's head as she looked from the two of them to the white dress and that damn bear she had brought with her. The gifts he had brought for her from his trip, and without blinking she threw both into the fireplace, covering the room with the smell of burnt fabric.

-No! - Y/n screamed, running towards the fireplace, grabbing the poker in an attempt to pull what was left of the beautiful dress and the bear away from the fire, but it was too late. The flames had already consumed everything they touched.

Tears ran down her face uncontrollably as a horrible feeling of nausea made her stomach churn with bile rising in her throat. Aemond's arms wrapped around her, holding her in the midst of her broken sobs. His voice said something softly in an attempt to calm her, but she could barely hear him, too lost in the feeling of pain and fear. She could barely speak, mute with panic.

-You will only marry her over my dead body, Aemond! - She shouted, glaring at them both. - I will not let you disgrace your name and ours!

-I don't care about my name! I don't care about any of that! I will marry Y/n, whether you like it or not! - He shouted, standing up from his cousin's side and walking towards his parents in a rage, making the room fall into a deadly silence, only Y/n's sobs being heard.

-Hey, what's going on? Where's everybody? - Aegon's relaxed voice came down the hallway, muffled by the door, which soon opened and revealed him smiling. The smile slowly faded from his face when he saw Y/n with bloodshot eyes crying while Aemond had a look that made it seem like he was being slaughtered alive.

-Shit. - He muttered motionless in the doorway, making his mother's look of fury turn to him, with the realization that the oldest was already aware of these facts.

-Did you know about this? - Alicent shouted, making Aegon flinch under his mother's shrill voice, and under the burning slap she delivered to his left cheek. - You idiot!

-Where did I go wrong in creating you? - She scolded more than angrily, looking like she was about to explode with fury. - What did I do to deserve this?

-Alicent, the best thing now is to stay calm to resolve all this and…

-Not! - She interrupted Viserys strongly again. - Viserys, I will not tolerate this! I demand that something be done about this immediately!

-And what do you expect me to do? - He asked tiredly, looking from his wife to his children and niece. Aegon further away, watching everything with a glazed look, and Aemond and Y/n hugged each other, slightly trembling with scared eyes.

-I want her out of my house right now! Far away from my children! - The older woman looked even more angrily in direction where Y/n was next to Aemond.

-Wife Y/n is under our guardianship until she is 22 years old, we cannot simply send her away. - Viserys murmured thoughtfully. - Unless we send her to stay with her father in Pentos.

Y/n and Aemond's eyes widened simultaneously upon hearing that. Pentos was miles away, even by plane, it would take weeks for them to be able to see each other in person again, even if they were in hiding.

Alicent, on the other hand, scoffed at her husband's idea, putting her hands on her hips as she spoke.

-Sending her to stay in that den of perversion with that demon of a father will only make things worse! - Alicent and Viserys spoke as if the rest of them weren't in the room, as if they weren't deciding the future they had dreamed of and planned for without their consent.

-Then what do you suggest? - Viserys asked and Y/n and Aemond held their breath.

-I want her to spend some time in Old Town. - Alicent demanded firmly, staring at her husband. - The conservatory of the septas will help her regain her composure and dignity.

-What? No! - Y/n squealed in panic when she heard those words. - No, please, aunt, I don't want to go there! My whole life is here! - And unconsciously she looked at Aemond as she said those words, irritating Alicent even more.

-Viserys either you send her to Old Town until dawn or I leave this house! - She hissed in the direction of her husband, who seemed to be on the verge of a heart attack.

-Uncle… uncle, please. - She begged, crying and walking towards her uncle, taking his hands in hers as she always did when she wanted to ask him for something. - Please, don't let her do this to me… Please!

-Y/n, my dear, you know I love you, but I can't leave things this way. Maybe it would be good for both of you to take some time apart. You are still too young to make such important decisions that could change both of your lives forever. - He muttered in an exhausted voice, looking from Y/n to Aemond. - You are too young for all this. You shouldn't even be involved in this kind of relationship yet!

-Father, by the gods, don't do this! - Aemond finally came to his senses after the shock that his mother's words caused him, practically begging, while he felt a pain so strong that it was almost physical when he saw the desperation in Y/n's eyes. - By the Gods… I swear I won't touch her again… I swear. Please don’t do that.

-Aemond… - Viserys barely had time to finish and the younger had already interrupted him, his eyes wide with fear.

-It only happened once! - Aemond lied, his eyes shining with unshed tears, aware that neither his father, much less his mother, believed it. - It was only once! I… I promise it won't happen again, please let her stay.

-You're blatantly lying to me, Aemond! - Alicent screeched. - You've been lying for who knows how long! And it's all because of her influence!

-It's my fault! - He screamed in despair, his hands on his head. - It was me! I asked to sleep with her, it was all my idea, she was innocent until I started all this, I swear… she didn't even know what she was doing. I forced myself on her! - He hissed on the verge of tears. - Punish me, not her! Please, father!

-No! - Y/n screamed with a high-pitched voice in horror through tears upon hearing Aemond say those things and upon seeing Viserys' disappointed look in his direction.

-No, no, no! Uncle, that's not true! Stop saying things like that! - She held Aemond's face between her palms, looking at him in despair. - You can't say those things, Aemond!

-I can't let them do this to you. - He murmured, staring at her with teary eyes filled with pain.

-Not saying things like that about yourself. - She sobbed, bringing her hand to his face.

-That's enough! - Alicent shouted angrily. - There's no decision to be made, Y/n is going to Old Town! It's already decided!

There was no more waiting, no more warnings, Y/n couldn't even go to her own room to pack her bags. Even when the two begged for her to be taken to Pentos, Alicent would not accept, Y/n was only sent to Old Town in the early hours of that day, before dawn was complete. She didn't even go to the airport to avoid even more gossip, she left by helicopter from the mansion's gardens.

She and Aemond didn't want to let go of each other, and they had to call Criston, one of the security guards, to hold Aemond while Harold, the general head of security, took Y/n to the helicopter while she cried copiously, hugging herself, feeling her heart tearing more and more with each step she took further away from Aemond.

To Alicent's complete and utter disgust, Aemond broke free from Criston, ran to Y/n, and without even being embarrassed by that perversion in public, he pulled her into a kiss in the middle of the gardens.

Y/n, when she saw him running towards her, immediately let go of Harold to throw herself into Aemond's arms one last time, and return the most painful kiss the two had ever shared in their lives.

Tears of pure pain ran down their faces and the kiss tasted of sadness and salt. Their hearts were broken with pure, sharp pain, their trembling lips slowly parting as more tears flowed.

-I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. - He murmured with a voice full of pain, holding her tightly against him.

-It's not your fault, Aem. - She sniffled, her eyes bloodshot with tears, trying to contain her tears, but failing and feeling her emotions completely out of control.

-I love you. - Aemond declared, leaning his forehead against hers and closing his eyes as the tears fell, unable to bear looking at Y/n's eyes full of pain and tears staring back at him. - Forever.

-I love you too, Aem. - She replied amidst her sobs, almost brushing her trembling lips against his again, feeling that she had only not collapsed right there because his arms were holding her. - Forever.

-Viserys! - Alicent's shrill scream came from behind them and they were both forced to let go of each other, with Y/n being carried by Harold, bursting into tears towards the helicopter, while Criston held Aemond firmly by the shoulders to prevent him from running to her again.

Aemond's knees gradually weakened as Harold guided her towards the helicopter. When the aircraft finally took off, he barely felt it when he collapsed onto the lawn of the garden, while he watched Y/n disappear like just another dot in the immensity of stars in the sky.

The universe around him seemed to go silent at that moment, or maybe his ears had gone deaf. Aemond couldn't say which, the only thing he knew at that moment was that a part of him seemed to have died.

He didn't know if minutes or hours had passed when he felt someone's hands pulling him up, and when he looked back he found Aegon staring at him with eyes full of pity next to Criston who was staring at the ground.

-Come with me, brother. - Aegon pulled him firmly. - It's starting to rain.

Aemond didn’t want it. He never wanted to move again in his life, he wanted to stay there, motionless, until she returned to his arms. But he was so numb from the pain that he barely felt when Aegon and Criston practically dragged him into the mansion again.

Aemond felt shattered, his vision blurred, his lips trembling, he could barely see the path in front of him. His eyes only came back into focus when they passed through the upstairs hallway and he saw the door to Y/n's room open. Letting go of both of them at the same moment and entering furiously when he saw his mother removing all her things and placing them in boxes on the bed.

-What are you doing? - Aemond hissed in pure despair when he saw her tearing each of Y/n's drawings from the mural, crumpling them and throwing them away like trash.

-All this wicked story ends now! - Alicent screamed lividly, staring at him. - It's over! You'll never see her again! Not if I can prevent it.

-I don't care if days pass, weeks, months, fucking decades pass! - He yelled back with wild eyes. - I'll still love her!

-Don't ever say that word again! - Alicent hissed even more furiously than before, taking firm steps towards her son. - Never again, Aemond! Love is something sacred, something that comes from the seven! That's not love, it's a terrible sin!

-So I don't want to have anything sacred! - He shouted, walking around the room, feeling suffocated by Y/n's presence that emanated from every little thing in that place. - I just want to have her! That's the only thing I want!

-That's enough! - A slap stung Aemond's cheek at that same moment, making him look at his mother even more painfully. - This will all go in the trash! And you'll forget all about this story, Aemond!

-Father! - Aemond shouted, going towards Viserys, completely exasperated, his eyes bloodshot and his hands shaking, as soon as he saw him stop at the bedroom door. - You can't let her do that!

-Aemond… - He began, being interrupted by his son's uncontrolled voice.

-These are Y/n's things. Her things! – Aemond practically screamed. - My mother can't just throw all this away, I won't allow it!

-Cole, take my son to his room. - Viserys asked the security guard very seriously, making Aemond even angrier.

-Could you listen to me at least once in your life, father? - He shouted furiously, walking in the opposite direction, feeling his heart ache when he saw the lilac dress that Y/n liked so much thrown on the floor, completely crumpled.

-I'm begging you… - He looked away from the lilac fabric to his father, his eyes shining with sadness and tears. - Please.. don't do that to her things.

-Alicent… - Viserys looked very seriously at his wife, feeling his son's anguish in the midst of all that. - That's enough for today, leave Y/n's things where they are.

-Viserys… - Alicent looked at him in denial.

-At least for now. - He muttered. - It's happened enough for today, look at the state the boy is in!

Aemond's eyes ran around the room until they landed on something very specific thrown carelessly on the bed. The notebook. The notebook with the drawing of the house. Aemond couldn't lose it. And while his mother wasn't looking too distracted arguing with Viserys, he quickly opened it and tore out the page with the drawing of the future of the two together, tucking it into the waistband of his pants anyhow. With pain in his heart he had to leave the rest behind, but at least the most important of all was safe.

-No one is going to touch Y/n's things for now! - Viserys gave the final word seriously, then grumbled in Aemond's direction, nodding his head towards the door. - Now go to your room, Aemond.

Still feeling torn apart, Aemond took a deep breath with at least a small drop of temporary relief. Aegon and Criston were still at the door, watching everything, but Aemond didn't stop. He just walked past them and went towards his own room next door, slamming it hard behind him, feeling almost collapse when he found the scene of his worst nightmare once again before his eyes.

The sun was shining through the window, but Aemond didn't even feel able to feel its heat. Nothing seemed to be able to warm him from the cold that had contaminated his soul that night. He didn't know how long he had been sitting on the floor when he reached into his pants and pulled out the slightly crumpled paper and stared at it, feeling the pain ravage him once again when he saw the beautiful dream drawn there.

❦❦❦

The days passed and Aemond felt more and more overcome by pain. It was as if someone had come and, without warning, cut his body in half and dragged one of the parts away. He barely ate, and refused to leave the room for anything. Also refusing to let them take the sheets off the bed, the smell of her perfume was still ingrained in them and it seemed to be the only thing capable of making him sleep even for a few minutes, just to dream about Y/n and wake up feeling still worse.

-Aemond I asked them to make potato rosti for dinner. - Aegon murmured near the bed, looking at him with a frown. - Eat some, it's your favorite.

-I don't want it. - He murmured without even looking in his brother's direction. Just the thought of food made his stomach turn, memories of Y/n laughing while eating, always saying that she needed even more cheese no matter how much she already had, made him want to never eat that again in his life.

Two days later, Helaena appeared in his room, sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking Aemond's hair like she used to do when he was a little boy. For the first time, he looked away from the ceiling and looked someone in the eyes after that night.

-Hi, little brother. - She smiled melancholy, still gently stroking his greasy, messy hair.

-What are you doing here? - Aemond murmured very quietly, his eyes dull and lifeless. - You should be in Dorne.

-Aegon called me, told me what happened. - She sighed, slightly pressing her eyes as she spoke. - He's worried about you, Daeron is too. You need to eat, Aemond. Aegon said you haven't eaten anything for a week.

-I don't want to. - He murmured, moving away from Helaena and returning to the corner of the bed where he always stayed. - I just want them to bring Y/n back home. That's not fair to her.

His eyes were once again lost and unfocused, staring into space while he pressed his nails firmly against his palms, leaving red half-moon-shaped marks on his hands, almost tearing the thin skin.

-Helaena, please… ask them to send me away, anywhere. - Aemond begged without looking at his sister, a tear running down the side of his face to his neck. - I swear I'll go without complaining! I'll even go to Winterfell if our mother wants. But take Y/n away from that place, they can't leave her there alone.

Helaena's heart broke when she saw her sweet brother destroyed like that. And even worse in a way that she couldn't help him. There was no cure for what Aemond was feeling, she couldn't sit there and say that the pain would go away when she could see in his broken eyes that it wouldn't.

-What if she's not eating right? - He sighed melancholy with a trembling voice. - What if she gets anemia like she did when we were children?

The older sister frowned at the irony in that, he was so worried about Y/n's health when he himself was slowly wasting away on that bed.

❦❦❦

-I want to go home! - Y/n shouted to the septa through tears.

-This is your home now, child. The sooner you accept that, the better.

-Call my dad! - She pleaded. - Ask him to come get me!

-Nobody come get you Targaryen! - The woman scolded with a very serious look. - Now eat.

-I'm not hungry. - She muttered, climbing onto the bed without looking at the woman.

-You look at me while I'm talking to you girl! And now eat at once.

Y/n's eyes burned and in pure anger, with a mix of uncontrolled feelings, she threw the plate against the door with all the strength she could muster.

-I don't want to! - She shouted, turning around furiously and facing the woman, feeling a metallic taste in his mouth immediately after the firm slap he received on the cheek.

-If you don't want to eat, then that's fine with me! - The septa glared at her. - No food for a week!

-Screw you! - She shouted back as she heard the door slam behind the older woman.

The days passed and Y/n felt weaker and weaker. She didn't eat, she barely drank water, she just sat on the single bed in the room, staring at the wall with a specific focus on a blurry stain that had probably been made with a blue ink pen. Her stomach churned and the little she ate didn't seem to want to stay inside.

She cried herself to sleep every night, overcome by sadness, and in her dreams Aemond haunted her with his beautiful smile, his gentle touches and his sweet words. Only for her to feel even worse when she woke up the next day, still locked in that place, miles away from him.

The paleness on her face was so visible after a few days that the septa insisted that she eat again, but without success. Her lips, which were once red and lush, were now white and cracked, and this, combined with her dull and lifeless eyes, left her with a ghostly appearance lying motionless on the bed.

A few more days passed and the septa dragged Y/n screaming into the shower, forcing her to take a bath. Y/n only stopped screaming when halfway there she was overcome by such strong dizziness that she almost collapsed on the floor, holding on tightly to the walls to keep from falling.

-You're going straight to the infirmary! - The septa, whose name Y/n hadn't even made a point of memorizing, spoke very seriously, looking at her with wide eyes. - You're clearly anemic because of all this stubbornness.

-I am fine. - She mumbled sleepily, still holding on to the wall. - There's nothing wrong with me, you're not going to take me anywhere.

Feeling a little better after the bath, Y/n lay down on the bed, tightly hugging Aemond's shirt, the only thing she had left of him besides the necklace around his neck. His scent was still there, and she prayed every night that it would never go away, because she would die if she lost that only touch she had left of his love.

❦❦❦

The night was cold and rainy in Kings Landing, the angry water lashed against the windows with such force that it made them seem like small stones, the wind blew furiously against the trees making it seem like it would destroy everything in its path.

Maybe that was why Aemond had finally slept that night after Helaena practically shoved a cup of tea down his throat. The world around him seemed to be just as furious and destructive as he was.

The sleep did not last long, as a few hours later Aemond woke up with sweat running down his body, panting and barely able to breathe as he felt the bile rising in his throat, burning everything in its path. He spent a few moments just standing there on the bed trying to breathe again with his eyes glassy, fearing that if he closed them the horrible vision of his dream would become even more vivid.

He could still see before his eyes, as clearly as the lightning that shone through the windows in the darkness. Y/n alone in a dark room, so thin that her shoulder bones were visible, her sunken eyes full of dark circles, her body curled up as she trembled, screamed and cried tears of bright red blood. The moment she screamed his name, as if asking for help, he woke up.

Goosebumps ran across his skin, and an inexplicable pain took over his entire being to the point that Aemond felt that his bones were painful. He didn't even stop to think for another second, he just got up in bed, still trembling and barely able to stand, heading towards Helaena's room in despair.

He didn't knock on the door, he didn't announce himself, he just staggered inside with glazed eyes.

-Aemond, what's wrong? - Came the soft and worried voice of the older sister, who stood up at the same time and ran to support him.

-Helaena, please. - Aemond looked into his older sister's eyes in despair. - I'm begging you… for a way to talk to someone in that place to know if Y/n is okay. Please, sister.

Seeing the look on the younger's face, totally scared and almost lost in the midst of panic, Helaena couldn't deny it. The day had barely dawned when she called the conservatory in Old Town pretending to be Y/n's stepmother, Laena, and asking about her well-being.

The answer that came from the phone it was simple, but it didn't bring peace to Aemond, who seemed on the verge of a breakdown.

"Your stepdaughter has a very difficult temperament, but she is being treated in the best possible way and is in excellent health."

-There's something wrong, I can feel it, Helaena. - Aemond murmured, his eyes wide and his jaw clenched as he spoke, while watching through the window the torrential rain that continued to fall on the capital.

Helaena just serrated her lips, staring at the youngest, the woman's strange tone didn't convince her at all and she was always excellent at judging people's character. But she would never say that to Aemond, her poor brother shouldn't have this incentive to fall into madness anymore, not after a whole month in that cycle of endless pain that he found himself in.

❦❦❦

The next morning seemed cold, dull and for some reason completely lifeless. The rain had stopped and there wasn't even a breeze outside, the trees were completely stagnant, not even the leaves seemed to be falling. Aemond lay still on the bed, thinking of a thousand ways to do something to see Y/n and snorting slightly when he heard the creak of the door, trying to guess which of his brothers would be there now.

-Hi big bro. - Daeron spoke in a melancholic voice without getting any answers from the older man, who just blinked his eyes, still looking in the same direction.

-Mom and dad had to go out, and I took this from mom's things without her seeing. - Daeron raised his hand in front of Aemond, and his eyes instantly focused on the small key with colorful crystal charms. The key to Y/n's room.

-How did you get this? - He smiled for the first time in days, taking the key from Daeron's hands and sitting up at the same time. Aemond thought about jumping from the balcony of his own room to Y/n's balcony, as he had done hundreds of times before when he slept in Y/n's room and left the next morning, but it would be useless with the window locked.

-Mom wouldn't suspect me, so I picked it up for you. - He shrugged, happy to see the eldest getting up. - I need to put it back when she comes back, so be quick. Hel and Aegon won't be able to keep her out for long.

Aemond walked to the door next to his with trembling hands, barely able to put the keys in the lock. Daeron gave him privacy by standing in the hallway, according to him, keeping watch.

The older man closed the door carefully so as not to make any noise, slowly turning back and feeling his heart burn when he saw Y/n's things thrown out of place again. Every little detail she had put into her room over the years, messed up. He almost froze, not knowing exactly what to do at that moment.

After a few moments of breathing deeply in an attempt to calm himself, Aemond began to gather his favorite drawings that Y/n had already made. With his hands even more trembling, he bent down and took out the drawer of the dressing table, where he knew she kept the photos that the two of them had taken together.

Tears rolled down his face when he touched them and the first one was a photo of the two of them smiling and exchanging a kiss lying on the attic carpet. He couldn't take everything, but at least he would keep this safe with him. No one would destroy his memories with Y/n.

When he was about to leave the room he saw him there, alone lying on the floor at the foot of the bed among some clothes. Mr. Bunny, the worn-out plush toy that Y/n had grown fond of while the two of them were playing house. Feeling a tear roll down his cheek Aemond picked him up from the floor, realizing that her scent was still ingrained in him and almost losing his breath and suffocating in pain with the memories that came to him at that moment. He could almost hear Y/n's laughter as she rocked the little bunny in her arms, pretending he was her son, and a feeling of irreparable loss crossed his heart, almost leaving him breathless.

He didn't dare leave any of those things in his room at the mansion. While Daeron went to put the keys back in their place, Aemond went down to the garage and carefully put everything in the trunk of the car, where no one would suspect, where no one would mess with it, locking it right after.

-Thank you. - Aemond muttered looking at the floor when he found Daeron sitting on the counter in the living room.

-We're brothers. - He shrugged, looking at him with a sad side smile. - We look after each other, isn't that what you always say?

-Yes, we are. - A wave of renewed guilt took over Aemond at that exact moment. Aegon, Helaena, and Daeron were taking care of him, but he wasn't taking care of his brothers.

It wasn’t fair that Helaena was missing an entire month of classes to bring him tea in bed every night and make sure he had eaten. It wasn’t fair that Aegon had to skip spending time with Jaehaerys and go over there every day to drag him to the bathroom and make him bathe and shave. It wasn’t fair that Daeron was with deep dark circles under his eyes at such a young age from sitting in an armchair in his room all night monitoring him.

Life wasn't being fair to him, but he wasn't being fair to his brothers by making them go through all this just because he was in pain. His gaze crossed the huge mirror on the counter in which Daeron stood perched, and for the first time in weeks he noticed how bad he looked, how much more dead than alive he looked. And in contrast to that the look of concern the youngest directed at him made his lungs constrict without oxygen.

-When Helaena and Aegon arrive, tell them I want to talk, ok? - He sighed with a tired voice, looking away, no longer able to look at the youngest and then heading up the stairs.

❦❦❦

Aemond felt like hours had passed when finally the bedroom door opened and his brothers entered with visible concern in their eyes. It was then that he noticed how tired Helaena looked and how Aegon, always calm, looked tense as he stared at him as if he were a bomb ready to explode.

-Helaena, you need to go back to college. - He sat straighter in the chair as he spoke while trying to keep his voice steady after so many days of speaking only what was necessary, feeling his throat scratching with each word.

-I thought about this a lot today, you are all exhausted and it is my fault! - He murmured, staring at them intently. - I didn't want things to be like this, you don't deserve them to be like this.

-Aemond, none of us are going anywhere. You need us! - Helaena bowed her head to the side in worry.

-I'll be fine, sister. I swear to you that I already feel better. - He lied, looking down at the floor.

-You are not well and I can feel it! - The oldest shook her head, approaching the bed. - I see how you look every time our mother comes here to talk to you. Why do you think I'm here, Aemond? I won't leave you alone!

Helaena held his hands tightly between hers.

-You need me, you need us by your side. - She nodded to Daeron and Aegon who were further back, equally worried.

-If I leave here, will you go back to Dorne? - He asked reluctantly. - It's not fair, Helaena, it only makes me feel worse.

-And where are you going? - She questioned with a raised eyebrow.

-You can stay in the apartment you bought a few months ago. - Aegon suggested with a shrug. - It's below mine, you won't have any problems with the change and you can see Jaehaerys whenever you want.

The mere mention of the apartment almost made him break down, Y/n hadn't even gotten to see the apartment, and he was going to surprise her on the day of the prom. Maybe it was better this way, he would never be able to enter it if she had already been there.

-That's it… - He murmured, barely looking at Helaena so she wouldn't see the tears welling up in his eyes at that mere thought. - But please, sister, go back to Dorne. It will bring me more joy than anything else right now.

-Will you go back to college? - She looked at him melancholy, sweetly stroking his hair that was washed, but dry and unkempt.

-No, I… I can't do that right now. - He sighed. - But I will eat, bathe and sleep from time to time. - He rolled his eyes, not really planning to do any of those things, but Helaena didn't need to know that.

-I'll keep an eye on him. - Aegon murmured to Helaena as the two walked away from him along with Daeron, and Aemond rolled his eyes at them treating him like a three-year-old child. After much reluctance and discussion, Helaena finally agreed to return to Dorne five days later.

But a week after the oldest's departure, Aemond still hadn't moved. Every day Daeron and Aegon talked about it with him, and every day he avoided leaving his room as always. Feeling like he didn't have the energy to get up from that bed, barely able to breathe at the thought of leaving the house, leaving the memories, that even darkened by all the pain of the last few weeks, he had there with Y/n.

Thoughts gnawed at Aemond's mind as he hugged the faded blue scarf that Y/n had used to cover the floor dozens of times while they had a picnic. Sometimes he thought that if he stayed quiet enough he could hear her voice echoing through the room, and sometimes he thought he was going crazy because of it.

The sound of the door opening woke him from his thoughts and he quickly put the scarf under his pillow.

-Not today, Aegon… we can talk about this tomorrow. - He muttered without even looking at the door.

-It's not Aegon. - Alicent's voice sounded through the room, making him sit up straight on the bed when he saw her. His mother came every day, but only at night; it was still too early for her to be there.

-I'm worried, Aemond. - She sighed, slowly approaching the bed. - Are you thinking of dropping out of college for such a vile reason?

-I have no desire to continue. - He practically whispered, looking in another direction. - There's no point in continuing.

-Aemond, do you realize what you're saying? - Alicent raised her tone an octave as she spoke.

- Do you think this kind of reaction is healthy? This is all a mistake, she contaminated you with her and her father's dirt, but I have the solution. - She spoke quickly, barely giving Aemond a chance to reply.

-You're going to talk to the septon. I've already talked to him, explained the whole situation, he'll help you resolve all of this and put your mind in the right place. - She smiled, holding his hand, but Aemond pulled it away at the same time, his eyes wide.

-I'm not going to any septon! - He glared at her angrily. - My mind is in perfect condition, but yours isn't if you think this will change the way I feel about her!

-Aemond, I've already heard all this and I'm already tired of all this nonsense! - The eldest stood up impatiently with her hands on her hips.

-But I decided to be kind to you and give you some encouragement… - She looked at him in a strange way that made Aemond feel like a small beetle under a magnifying glass.

-If you go back to college and consider talking to the septon, I might consider letting her return to Kings Landing. - Alicent murmured very seriously and Aemond looked back at her, suddenly very interested.

-Are you serious about this? - He asked, standing up and walking towards his mother apprehensively, almost getting lost in the middle of the words.

-Very serious. - Alicent looked him in the eyes and lied. - If you do that, I might think about letting her come back, obviously you'll be away from each other, but she might come back.

Aemond's heart burned in his chest at that idea, he would never consider talking to a septon, as if what he and Y/n had was something wrong and dirty. And the mere idea of going back to college among all those people made him sick, but if that could maybe make his mother let her go back, even if he couldn't get close to her, that's what he would do.

❦❦❦

Shortly after that day, Aemond returned to college, barely looking at anyone who spoke to him. And fulfilling his mother's demands, he began to go to the septon every week to have a conversation, where the man would talk for hours about the problem of the sinful act he had been involved in and how much it was repudiated by the seven.

Aemond would leave the sept with his head throbbing with pain and feeling almost zombified every time, barely able to hear the thoughts in his own mind while waves of repulsion ran through his body, almost making him vomit.

After all that, he really left the mansion, taking all his belongings with him this time, since there was no longer any reason to return there periodically, and moved to the apartment below Aegon's, not wanting to be near the college campus and the gossip that was whispered there.

Aemond didn't paint the walls, he didn't put up any pictures, he didn't even choose the furniture. He just asked a decorator to leave the place clean and habitable. It didn't seem right to do it without Y/n, it wouldn't be fun to do it without her. The apartment was how Aemond felt without Y/n, cold and lifeless, without any color to cheer him up. The only thing there that he had chosen was the wooden chest in the corner of the living room, where he kept the memories he had managed to save of Y/n.

Some days in the self-imposed solitude of his apartment, he would find himself talking to Y/n in his mind, almost as if she could hear his voice. Often whispering words he used to whisper in her ears only to himself, the words sounding like an empty echo through the gray and icy walls of the apartment. And almost always as he said them, the Septon's voice echoed in the back of his mind, in a deadly whisper of sinner.

As time passed, the hope that the two would be together again died inside Aemond, giving way to anger and bitterness. And even though he was without hope, he could never give up the things stored in the chest in the living room, he could never stop sitting on the floor and admiring her beauty and sweetness through the photos while he was bathed in the moonlight and the splendor of the hills of Visenya.

Opening that chest was like digging his nails into an open wound, but Aemond could not stop doing it. Deep in his heart there was that spark of hope that one day they would be able to be together, that they would fulfill all their promises, that they would be happy forever together.

Maybe what they said was true, maybe the absence made his heart grow even fonder, because he didn't notice his love for Y/n diminishing as the years passed, it only grew and the desire to be with her grew every day, as did the guilt for such desires.

The voices of his mother and the Septon constantly echoed in his head, telling him how wrong those feelings were, how much the seven would disapprove of a union between cousins.

But even with such thoughts screaming in his mind, Aemond knew well that he would not be strong enough, he knew well that if he laid eyes on Y/n one more time he would not hesitate to jump over the same cliff again, even if he destroyed himself in the process.

tag list: @afro-hispwriter @fan-goddess @strangersunghoon @zenka69 @callsignwidow @amanda08319 @alesswift-blog @marialikescherries @palomavz

Final notes: It was extremely difficult to write this chapter because I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to properly capture the characters' feelings in writing. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, I still can't believe I managed to translate all of this in one day, I'm happy!!! In the next one we'll return to the present time. 💖💖💖

*Shania song is the song they dancing in Corlys Birthday. 😭🥺

💖 Leave comments 💖

[wereshrew-admirer]

the figure in bysmuth -> the demeaning and invasive process of treating ADHD

chine the cleaver -> the symptoms of ADHD, untreated

[inkybinkyboink]

today i rented a guitar.

[anotheruntitledsong]

i did like the hidden palace but (SPOILER if anyone hasn't read it?) i'm genuinely so annoyed at how Arbeely is handled like... I wish i could be sad but i'm just fucking irritated. I was overly invested in him and that's def why but i just feel like they did him dirty

[loverboybrightsideghost]

so has anyone checked rusty quill's youtube lately

[stillgeekingout]

#it's very strange #because i often feel like the culmination of those characters arcs #like if the point is they're ace great but like... #the option of lesbianism just *never* occurs #which--and again not to discredit any ace people or ace readings of her work--is such a common lesbian experience! #like myself and a bunch of other lesbians i know had that journey #of going 'hmm i don't like men... guess I'm asexual! (do not ask me about women i will combust)' #like lady bird... whatever #little women... alright i suppose if you wanted to make a comentary on how lma was forced to add the heterosexual romance at the end #and not suggest anything about a real person and also not deviate from the source material #but barbie was insane #the coding was next level #like c'mon birkenstocks??? #and i argue that barbies acceptance of genitalia could be read as an acceptance of sexuality or the very least exploring it #so why isn't she a dyke??? (other than mattel probably giving a hard no on that)

I don’t know, the thing that really bothers me about Greta Gerwig’s films is that there is just this gaping hole where gay women should be. Like, when you’re making these movies about the trap of heterosexual marriage, breaking free of that, and the only concrete answer is to be a single woman over and over and over again, it feels like an intentional absence. You can watch the movie with a queer lens, but it is egregious that you may only consider homosexuality in her movies in this way. It ought to be in them. There is no reason for it not to be there. Women don’t fuck women in Greta Gerwig’s feminist liberations. Often, they don’t have sex at all.

[sophiamcdougall]

You're a reasonably informed person on the internet. You've experienced things like no longer being able to get files off an old storage device, media you've downloaded suddenly going poof, sites and forums with troves full of people's thoughts and ideas vanishing forever. You've heard of cybercrime. You've read articles about lost media. You have at least a basic understanding that digital data is vulnerable, is what I'm saying. I'm guessing that you're also aware that history is, you know... important? And that it's an ongoing study, requiring ... data about how people live? And that it's not just about stanning celebrities that happen to be dead? Congratulations, you are significantly better-informed than the British government! So they're currently like "Oh hai can we destroy all these historical documents pls? To save money? Because we'll digitise them first so it's fine! That'll be easy, cheap and reliable -- right? These wills from the 1850s will totally be fine for another 170 years as a PNG or whatever, yeah? We didn't need to do an impact assesment about this because it's clearly win-win! We'd keep the physical wills of Famous People™ though because Famous People™ actually matter, unlike you plebs. We don't think there are any equalities implications about this, either! Also the only examples of Famous People™ we can think of are all white and rich, only one is a woman and she got famous because of the guy she married. Kisses!"

Yes, this is the same Government that's like "Oh no removing a statue of slave trader is erasing history :(" You have, however, until 23 February 2024 to politely inquire of them what the fuck they are smoking. And they will have to publish a summary of the responses they receive. And it will look kind of bad if the feedback is well-argued, informative and overwhelmingly negative and they go ahead and do it anyway. I currently edit documents including responses to consultations like (but significantly less insane) than this one. Responses do actually matter. I would particularly encourage British people/people based in the UK to do this, but as far as I can see it doesn't say you have to be either. If you are, say, a historian or an archivist, or someone who specialises in digital data do say so and draw on your expertise in your answers. This isn't a question of filling out a form. You have to manually compose an email answering the 12 questions in the consultation paper at the link above. I'll put my own answers under the fold. Note -- I never know if I'm being too rude in these sorts of things. You probably shouldn't be ruder than I have been.

Please do not copy and paste any of this: that would defeat the purpose. This isn't a petition, they need to see a range of individual responses. But it may give you a jumping-off point.

Question 1: Should the current law providing for the inspection of wills be preserved?

Yes. Our ability to understand our shared past is a fundamental aspect of our heritage. It is not possible for any authority to know in advance what future insights they are supporting or impeding by their treatment of material evidence. Safeguarding the historical record for future generations should be considered an extremely important duty.

Question 2: Are there any reforms you would suggest to the current law enabling wills to be inspected?

No.

Question 3: Are there any reasons why the High Court should store original paper will documents on a permanent basis, as opposed to just retaining a digitised copy of that material?

Yes. I am amazed that the recent cyber attack on the British Library, which has effectively paralysed it completely, not been sufficient to answer this question for you.  I also refer you to the fate of the Domesday Project. Digital storage is useful and can help more people access information; however, it is also inherently fragile. Malice, accident, or eventual inevitable obsolescence not merely might occur, but absolutely should be expected. It is ludicrously naive and reflects a truly unpardonable ignorance to assume that information preserved only in digital form is somehow inviolable and safe, or that a physical document once digitised, never need be digitised again..At absolute minimum, it should be understood as certain that at least some of any digital-only archive will eventually be permanently lost. It is not remotely implausible that all of it would be. Preserving the physical documents provides a crucial failsafe. It also allows any errors in reproduction -- also inevitable-- to be, eventually, seen and corrected. Note that maintaining, upgrading and replacing digital infrastructure is not free, easy or reliable. Over the long term, risks to the data concerned can only accumulate.

"Unlike the methods for preserving analog documents that have been honed over millennia, there is no deep precedence to look to regarding the management of digital records. As such, the processing, long-term storage, and distribution potential of archival digital data are highly unresolved issues. [..] the more digital data is migrated, translated, and re-compressed into new formats, the more room there is for information to be lost, be it at the microbit-level of preservation. Any failure to contend with the instability of digital storage mediums, hardware obsolescence, and software obsolescence thus meets a terminal end—the definitive loss of information. The common belief that digital data is safe so long as it is backed up according to the 3-2-1 rule (3 copies on 2 different formats with 1 copy saved off site) belies the fact that it is fundamentally unclear how long digital information can or will remain intact. What is certain is that its unique vulnerabilities do become more pertinent with age."  -- James Boyda, On Loss in the 21st Century: Digital Decay and the Archive, Introduction.

Question 4: Do you agree that after a certain time original paper documents (from 1858 onwards) may be destroyed (other than for famous individuals)? Are there any alternatives, involving the public or private sector, you can suggest to their being destroyed?

Absolutely not. And I would have hoped we were past the "great man" theory of history. Firstly, you do not know which figures will still be considered "famous" in the future and which currently obscure individuals may deserve and eventually receive greater attention. I note that of the three figures you mention here as notable enough to have their wills preserved, all are white, the majority are male (the one woman having achieved fame through marriage) and all were wealthy at the time of their death. Any such approach will certainly cull evidence of the lives of women, people of colour and the poor from the historical record, and send a clear message about whose lives you consider worth remembering.

Secondly, the famous and successsful are only a small part of our history. Understanding the realities that shaped our past and continue to mould our present requires evidence of the lives of so-called "ordinary people"!

Did you even speak to any historians before coming up with this idea?

Entrusting the documents to the private sector would be similarly disastrous. What happens when a private company goes bust or decides that preserving this material is no longer profitable? What reasonable person, confronted with our crumbling privatised water infrastructure, would willingly consign any part of our heritage to a similar fate?

Question 5: Do you agree that there is equivalence between paper and digital copies of wills so that the ECA 2000 can be used?

No. And it raises serious questions about the skill and knowledge base within HMCTS and the government that the very basic concepts of data loss and the digital dark age appear to be unknown to you. I also refer you to the Domesday Project.

Question 6: Are there any other matters directly related to the retention of digital or paper wills that are not covered by the proposed exercise of the powers in the ECA 2000 that you consider are necessary?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 7: If the Government pursues preserving permanently only a digital copy of a will document, should it seek to reform the primary legislation by introducing a Bill or do so under the ECA 2000?

Destroying the physical documents will always be an unforgivable dereliction of legal and moral duty.

Question 8: If the Government moves to digital only copies of original will documents, what do you think the retention period for the original paper wills should be? Please give reasons and state what you believe the minimum retention period should be and whether you consider the Government’s suggestion of 25 years to be reasonable.

There is no good version of this plan. The physical documents should be preserved.

Question 9: Do you agree with the principle that wills of famous people should be preserved in the original paper form for historic interest?

This question betrays deep ignorance of what "historic interest" actually is. The study of history is not simply glorified celebrity gossip. If anything, the physical wills of currently famous people could be considered more expendable as it is likely that their contents are so widely diffused as to be relatively "safe", whereas the wills of so-called "ordinary people" will, especially in aggregate, provide insights that have not yet been explored.

Question 10: Do you have any initial suggestions on the criteria which should be adopted for identifying famous/historic figures whose original paper will document should be preserved permanently?

Abandon this entire lamentable plan. As previously discussed, you do not and cannot know who will be considered "famous" in the future, and fame is a profoundly flawed criterion of historical significance.

Question 11: Do you agree that the Probate Registries should only permanently retain wills and codicils from the documents submitted in support of a probate application? Please explain, if setting out the case for retention of any other documents.

No, all the documents should be preserved indefinitely.

Question 12: Do you agree that we have correctly identified the range and extent of the equalities impacts under each of these proposals set out in this consultation? Please give reasons and supply evidence of further equalities impacts as appropriate.

No. You appear to have neglected equalities impacts entirely. As discussed, in your drive to prioritise "famous people", your plan will certainly prioritise the white, wealthy and mostly the male, as your "Charles Dickens, Charles Darwin and Princess Diana" examples amply indicate. This plan will create a two-tier system where evidence of the lives of the privileged is carefully preserved while information regarding people of colour, women, the working class and other disadvantaged groups is disproportionately abandoned to digital decay and eventual loss. Current and future historians from, or specialising in the history of minority groups will be especially impoverished by this.  

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me the first taste” | 10k

logan howlett x f!reader

part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”

"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple

SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. angst. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. age-gap (reader is 25). once again wade saves the day. domestic!logan. soft dom!logan. logan calls reader “kid”. they watch (500) days of summer. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. thumb sucking. throat fucking. multiple orgasms. unprotected p in v. creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)

A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…

Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.

You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.

It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.

“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.

“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”

Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 

“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”

His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.

There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 

“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”

You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”

Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”

“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”

“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”

Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.

As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.

Why is he about to fight a cat?

“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”

“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”

Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”

“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”

This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.

At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”

Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.

Far from dozing off, you feel alive.

It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.

Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 

Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”

“Fucking, you mean.”

“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”

His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.

As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you’re making jokes?”

“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”

Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.

You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.

Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.

“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”

“You could use a new wardrobe.”

“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”

“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.

You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”

“I think I’ve already heard that before.”

“Kid.”

You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”

“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.

“Wait. I have a game to play.”

“It’s late.”

“Please?”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 

“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”

“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”

“Really? You, of all people?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”

“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.

You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.

“You love having the final say, don’t you?”

“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”

“You can always get new teeth.”

“But my morning breath—”

“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”

“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.

Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”

“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.

More silence.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”

And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.

Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”

You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.

Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”

Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.

“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”

That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.

“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”

“Logan…”

“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”

You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.

Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”

“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”

“I could’ve done something much worse.”

“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”

“What if—”

You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 

This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.

“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.

“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”

A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.

You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.

The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.

“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”

Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”

“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”

At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.

You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”

Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”

“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”

“I don’t.”

He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”

“I said I don’t.”

“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.

You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”

“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.

“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”

“Wade, that’s not even possible.”

“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”

“How did you pass History in high school?”

“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”

“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”

The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 

“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”

Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 

“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”

“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”

“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”

“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”

Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”

Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”

“Over a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”

“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”

Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.

Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, homey.”

“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”

“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”

Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”

Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.

Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.

The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.

What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.

Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 

Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.

You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.

It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”

“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”

Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”

You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 

“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.

“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”

“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”

“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”

You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.

From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”

“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 

“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.

Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.

He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”

Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 

You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.

“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”

Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.

Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.

“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”

You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.

The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.

Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 

It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”

Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.

You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.

Hey.

You again.

Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.

Okay.

“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.

“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.

Sure.

What’s that?

Why not?

Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.

We— we’ll figure it out.

We’ll figure it out.

“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.

My name’s Tom.

Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.

When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”

Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”

“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”

You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”

“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.

Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.

“Logan, they weren’t even official.”

“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.

“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”

His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”

Lord have mercy.

“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”

“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”

The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”

“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.

“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”

He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”

“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “

“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.

“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:

“You are the most exasperating person I know.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”

“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”

You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Drop it, kid.”

“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”

You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”

Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”

“Fine with me.”

“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”

Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”

That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 

He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”

You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.

A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”

Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..

“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”

You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.

“Will you—can you—”

“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”

God, you love it when he’s mean.

“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”

The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”

He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”

You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.

Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”

“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”

“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”

“Bub.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”

Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.

“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have any?”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”

The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”

Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”

Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”

“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”

“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”

“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 

Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”

“Inside.”

“What?”

“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”

“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”

“Logan?”

“Tell me, bub.”

“Knock, knock.”

He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream who?”

“Ice cream for you all night long.”

“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”

This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[tossawary]

One of my personal nitpicks for historical fantasy is a lack of servants, staff, subordinates, and... idk... subjects? Like, their absence is not... a total dealbreaker for me, depending on the situations the characters are in and whether or not I can just assume that other people are there in the background... but so many of the protagonists in historical fantasy stuff are higher-ranking (very often royalty), and/or have busy jobs, and/or have enormous houses that would necessitate having at least part-time staff.

Like, girl, you should have a maid! WHERE is your chaperone?! WHO is driving this carriage?! Where are your footmen? Are you trying to imply that a WEALTHY DUCHESS is taking a CAB?! You know that you probably have tenants, right? Where is your steward?! Where is your lawyer? Your accountant?! (Like, yeah, you're not going to have your lawyer living in your house, but you HAVE one, right???)

Or, man, you're supposed to be a military commander and you don't even have a single secretary?! Where is your SQUIRE?! (In the spirit of historical fiction, I am jumping wildly across time periods with every sentence here.) Man, I know you aren't looking after your own boots. Where are your GUARDS?! Who set up this tent for you?! Who is looking after your horse?! Who is making and carrying the incredibly valuable maps people are recklessly stabbing daggers into?!

SOMEONE has to be scrubbing these floors and delivering the mail and cooking the meals and doing laundry, and they're probably all DIFFERENT people! My dentist has at least three different receptionists and we can't even get ONE for our court wizard here? A sorcerer's apprentice to take notes? Someone like Sherlock Holmes could get away with just having a housekeeper and taking taxis, sure, but your character is supposed to be a KING?! Why is he answering his own front door? He's going to get assassinated. His SERVANTS should have SERVANTS.

Like, yes, I understand that a lot of servants in certain places at certain times were supposed to make their labor invisible, but there have always been servants who still had to interact directly with the masters of the house?! Yeah, there are potentially really messy ethics here, class divisions are bullshit, but I don't think that completely ignoring the reality that humans have ALWAYS been doing work for other humans is better than just including some well-paid and well-treated servants and employees? Because a complete absence of them, especially where logically for the worldbuilding there MUST be servants (and probably exploited servants, or worse, for some particular worldbuilds to work), often makes me think that your main characters just don't care enough to notice the "lower class" people or know their names.

Also, even Frodo Baggins had a gardener and Samwise Gamgee might be the best damn character in the story?! Sam saved the world?! Servants are PEOPLE. Servants are often the funniest and most interesting characters, tbh, with the most to say about a society and its workings (yes, Discworld is a very good book series, highly recommend), and also the joke of some romantic scene being carefully orchestrated by a stage crew of servants frantically diving into bushes to stay out of sight never gets old to me. Teamwork makes the dream work!

I don't want to gatekeep historical fiction, especially not historical fantasy, because the worlds don't necessarily have to conform to our own and may have magic and characters are often in very unique circumstances, but... sometimes I pick up a story and it's like... "Author, please tell me that you know there is a difference between a butler and a valet?!"

[angelplummie]

getting baby trapped by 30s art……… i m unwell. after a messy divorce with tashi he found you, his kinder, softer, altogether more human younger girlfriend, and he can’t get enough. part of him craves tashis authority, but the other part of him relishes in being more than someone, older and stronger and wiser. he loves the way you make him feel, loves the way you dote on him and listen to him and take him in his entirety. loves the way you don’t play fucking tennis, you talk about other things, care about other things, fuck about other things. loves the way you lay down on your back for him and do as he says, even when he commands you in his soft, kind way. loves the way your eyes bead with tears as he pounds your tight young cunt and stares into your blistering face. he loves to stretch you open on his long cock and use you, use you for his pleasure until you cream and whimper, eat his seed from your sore, spasming cunt. he could fuck you however he wanted, and you adored him for it. in all his years he had never had so much sexual freedom, never been as totally and utterly fufilled. he loves how you thank him, for everything. with the newest dior hanging from your arm, you thank him. with his cum still on your tongue and bleary eyes, you thank him. he loves so much about you he’s starting to think he loves you. he loves you. you’re everything he needs after all that transpired with tashi, he needs someone loving and open. he wants you forever. but you’re so young. you could change, it could all go away so quickly. he needs a way to keep you, to make sure you always look at him with stars in your eyes, make sure you need him as much as he needs you. so slowly, he begins hiding your birth control. not very well, if you really wanted to find it you would have. but you didn’t. and you won’t.

“art,” you sigh as your wonderful boyfriend kisses your neck. you lay on his white sofa together, legs interlocked, pressing into every part of each other.

“art,” you sigh again, his hands palming your breast over your thin cami,”art, i forgot to take my pill. i couldn’t find my pill.”

“hmm,” he moans into your neck, grinding his hips into your thigh.

“art we can’t.”

“i want you.”

you giggle, and let him push away your top, and take your soft nipple into his mouth until it hardened, and deep in your core you felt a furling, peeling pleasure.

“i’m ovulating,” you breathe,”im gonna get pregnant.”

he groans, rock hard dick straining against his shorts, against your supple thigh. his hands roam over your torso and with kitten licks he flicks your nipple. you expel a soft breath, fingers carding through the blonde, tousled hair you suggested he grew out. you were making him young again.

“i want you. i’ll get a condom in a second.”

he’s lying. hes a liar and a bad bad man and he knows it. but he can’t care. you mewl once more about ovulating, but your fingers comb through his hair, and your chest heaves and your eyes flutter shut as he sucks and licks and paws at your tits, humping your thigh with his achingly hard cock.

“i’m… art… pregnant…” you whine half heartedly, but it only makes him sigh deeper, and he imagines the day that you’ll tell him that in complete sentences. would you be teary eyed? would you need convincing? or would you give yourself to him like he felt you would? only time would tell.

“shhhh.”

you twitched, spine arching and pushing yourself further into his mouth.

“i’m gonna grab a condom any second,” he murmured, “i want you now.”

“you have me now.”

he moves up your body and presses his lips to yours, large hand ghosting your jaw. you close your lips against each others, and open again to touch lip to tongue and tongue to tooth, to taste and to breathe each other. he tastes like sweet nothing, like air and cleanliness and summer. you taste like honey to him. your fingers tuck his hair behind his peach fuzzed ear delicately, and you breathe against each others upper lip. his nose mushes against yours and he flicks his tongue at your gums and lips. it deepens, and he toes the line between lavishing you in affection and trying to eat you lips first. it’s hungry and wet, and you forget where his mouth begins and yours ends, all becoming blurred in the spit and the heat of it.

he pulls away, with a spit string connecting your two puffy lips. his eyes twinkle in the dim light that can reach them in your tight embrace.

“why don’t you take off your panties?”

and he leant away, the warmth of his body leaving you burning in its absence. he sat, perched, watching you from above. he looked down his nose at you with a smile, so genuine and yet so condescending. so soft and nurturing, like you needed to be guided and taken care of. that him seeing you naked and feeling your insides and making you stupid and small was what you needed, was how he had to take care of you. it was times like this that you thought about the age difference, when he made you so aware that he could make you want to do anything, anything if it was just to please him. a special ability only he had over you, and if he has his way you would feel it forever. you scramble to be more upright, to rest on your elbows and lift your hips far enough that your reaching fingers could pull down your cotton panties. you writhed beneath him to reveal yourself, nipples peaking from your cami as he watched you fully clothed, in his white shirt and loose pyjama shorts. his hair was ruffled, this way and that, and he looked more collected than he ever had.

shed of your tiny covering, the orange glow of the living room light reflecting off the wetness that was smeared to your inner thigh. from under your lashes u stare up at him, the way his shirt clings involuntarily to the tightness of his core and to his broad shoulders, the way his blonde eyelashes flutter at the sight of your thighs, your hips, your tits, all the parts of you that spill over with softness. your lips part slightly, and in silence you forget what he wants you to forget and beg him to have his way with you.

he was pulled to you once more like a magnet, and you instinctively bent your knees up and spread your legs to receive his torso and hips. he took the bends of your knees in each hand and folded you up so that your ankles hung by his shoulders, bouncing in the air as the sofa gave way for his weight. he knelt above you for just a moment, just a tortuous moment before bending down, sliding his body back so his face could remain above your hot pussy.

with an untroubled drop of the wrist, your legs fell to his shoulders, sprawled on his back. the innermost part of your thighs pressed lightly to his ear, and your heels rested lightly on his back.

with his head situated mere inches from your hot throbbing hole, he took the opportunity to take his time. while he had you in the palm of his hand he made you suffer for it, kissing the tender flesh that shined with the mess he had made for you.

every touch was torture, and he knew what he was doing. his eyes never left your face, the ghost of a smile across his lips whenever they were not eclipsed by the fat of your thighs. your eyes never left his face either, and you watched him breathlessly. he licks a stripe of skin against the grain of your leg hair, and you make a sound like you’re crying.

“oh,” you whisper, “please.”

he hums, laughing. the air from his nose hits your folds and you twitch.

“ok,” he’s soft, controlled, serene.

lips parted, he leans forward into your core, not for one second breaking eye contact with you as he takes your clit into his wet mouth. his pink tongue lathes it, up and down and up and down.

his fingers make sharp indents in your thigh to stop your wriggling, and he forces your ass into his chest. he cranes his neck to eat you deeper, and you cry out, tears beading in your eyes. sucking brutally, he moans into your hole.

“fuck,” you fist the cushion beside you, gathering the fabric and ungathering it,”fuck.”

he eats your pussy like it’s your mouth, makes out with it, makes love to it. he seems to take you in your entirety into his mouth, making you all wet with him, covered and soaked. he reaches up slowly, taking your hand in his, and squeezes it softly. your fingers are tight, paralysed in his hold. the pressure his hand provides gets rid of your compulsive need to squeeze, pacifies you, makes you dumb and limp. you lie back, no longer watching his eyes trained on you, your mouth hanging open and your eyes fluttering closed. you moan involuntarily, unaware at all that you’re alive, that you haven’t died and gone to heaven.

his thumb rubs soft circles on the back of your hand in time with his mouthing, the swirl of his tongue and the rhythmic closing of his mouth. you taste like honey here too, like nectar and sugar and love. your ankles lock together and unlock on his back, and the mere feeling of that sends chills down his whole body.

suddenly he stops. he lays a final fat kiss on your clit, watching as you mewl and your tight, ready hole gushes. he pulls away with your puppy fat legs still hugging side burns and jaw. gently he rises and slips out of your leggy grasp, fingers still interlocked with yours. he wants to kiss you. you are so pathetic when he has his way with you, so passive and pliable. he wants to hurt you because you would let him, but infinitely more and for the exact same reason he wants only to look after you. to make you happy and full and rewarded for your eternal beauty, inside and out.

he wanted to kiss you, and so he did. he leaned over, still completely dressed, and draped his slender, finely chiselled body over yours. it even made him light headed to think about being close to you, to your body, not hardened by the dedication that destroyed him, left soft and unscarred, left without taint. his underbelly of tenderness was your everywhere. you were the rounding to his shoulders, the layer of fat that kept him in warm in winter.

you collided without friction, his wet lips gliding over yours in a dance of want. your legs were still under his control, and as such you were spread beneath him. your knees dangled by his sides, leaving your pussy wide open to leave sloppy kisses on his shorts. you kissed back with the same ferocity. despite your implicit submission, you wanted to consume him as much as he wanted to consume you, if not more. you gave him what he wanted because you wanted to give it to him. wanted to give him everything he would receive.

you gave him your tongue, which he accepted with a grin.

you gave him coiling fingers that grasped the fabric on his back desperately, which he took for momentum. he rolled forward on top of you, deepening the hold his mouth had on yours.

you gave him moans, whimpers from a wavering throat which he took for courage.

“im so hard for you,” you felt the reverberation of his voice in your very core, and you died a sweet death,”i’m gonna put it in.”

“uh huh.”

success. you had forgotten. he laughed, mischievously, and a smile settled into the curves of his face.

all you heard was the snap of elastic, the rustle of fabric and the dulled slap of arts heavy cock against his t-shirt.

all you saw was his pupils grow until his eyes appeared black, like an animal’s, looking at you so directly you felt he saw you deeper than skin, deeper than meat or bone. you felt utterly seen, and utterly loved. you met his gaze pleadingly, eyebrows quirking up in the centre and lips pouting. please, it told him, please my love.

“you want it?” he breathed. pre cum smeared the fat tip, his balls hung low out of his shorts that gathered at his middle thigh. it was so big. long and fat and filling. so big and so pretty, so big and pretty it was all you could do not to cry.

“i want it art,” you replied, voice clipped and cheeks burning,”i want you.”

“yeah?”

he touched your face, from your jaw to the temple. he didn’t even try to kiss you. he just held your face. he was gentle, gentle, gentle as ever. his every action was kind. you love him. you’re in love with him.

“i want you art. i love you.”

and that was that. he was getting you pregnant tonight. someone would have to pry him off of you, because so help him god he would drain himself dry in your hot wet cunt if it was the last thing he ever did.

you squealed as he pushed the entirety of his cock in, bulbous head stretching your cunt wider than any cock had stretched it before. but it slipped in so easily with the outpour of your sticky love. it made a thick squelch, and he groaned so loud, squeezed his eyes shut so hard, you might’ve thought he was being tortured.

“fuck!”

the force of his thrust had caused the thick juices of you arousal to spread around his thick cock where he stretched you out, the pain minimal, familiar and intoxicating.

you throbbed in unison, blood coursing through where you connected. you were so tight and hot, so fucking wet. art struggled, arms bracing either side of your shoulders, to force the rest of himself into you. he also struggled to think, to be a human and not a ploughing, panting, thoughtless dog.

a moan rose through your throat, broke from you involuntarily, came out like the sound of murder. your taut pussy suckled his fat dick with every pulse and quiver. you felt him so deep inside you, and he fought to push deeper. fingers still locked, his crushed your knuckles and your palm.

“oh my fucking god.”

it could’ve been either one of you, because you both meant to say it. this moment of stillness and feeling waited one more second, before art became beast, and drew back his hips so that only his pink tip stayed gripped inside. you felt so soul crushingly empty, until he drove himself back in, and you were brought back to life.

“god,” he pounded any thoughts away, any and all of them, until all you could do was breath and blaspheme, “fucking- christ.”

the buttery, fevered roll of his hips was one he was in no control of. he felt as though he was being moved by some godly force to cram your tight cunt full of him. his jaw hung open, and the hand that didn’t hold yours instead held your shoulder, dwarfing in it in his wide palm. holding onto you for sanity, his eyes opened to take in what he had done to you.

“you’re so tight. perfect. perfect. perfect.”

“i love you.”

“i love you. i love you. please god.”

what was he asking for? was he asking you or god? you would do it for him, regardless. you would do it.

your hand reached into his hair, and tugged hard. a whorish moan left his lips, the rolling of his lower half stuttering as his neck arched up. his knees were spread wide, digging deeply into his sofa. his pelvis moved on its own, smoothly, as if he had reverted to his baser instincts and let years of evolution take its course, nature guiding him to your inevitable impregnation.

you were as he liked you, completely dumb. he was too gone to enjoy it, but on another planet of pleasure entirely. he couldn’t relish in the feeling of control, but he could in the feeling of you, of having you, being loved by and loving you. the suckling heat of you was more than a man could take, and the picture beneath him was no more comprehensible.

your angel lips spread to a glistening tongue, your eyes glassy and dilated, your brow creased, hair mussed. he had to have that too, and so he kissed you once more. the hand on his hair tightened, and he moaned into your mouth.

he pumped your pussy so deep, pre cum was dashed from his oozing tip inside you, heavy balls slapping at your skin. you were so wet you didn’t notice, only felt the heat and the mind numbing ecstasy. the feeling of being pounded like a piece of meat till your tight girl pussy remembered every vein his grown man dick, but kissed like a lover and held like a princess pushed you that much closer, sent you that little bit more over the edge. you needed it. you needed him to cum. to please your daddy.

“i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum inside you.”

“fucking do it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. get me fucking pregnant art.”

that was all he needed. he breathed into your lips and cried out, long steady body shuddering like a leaf. he held you close, pressing his weight on top of your till he could feel the fat of your breasts move around his chest. cum, thick and milky white, shot deep into your cunt, which even now gripped him tighter than ever. so much of it too. his meaty balls tweaked as their contents leaked into where they were always supposed to go.

your orgasm hit you like a ton of bricks, parting your lips in a silent scream.

his cock had not moved an inch from where it rested fully buried in your pussy. it was wet. it would spill out once he removed himself. it needed to stay inside.

he pressed his forehead to yours, your eyes fluttering closed from exhaustion and contentedness. you didn’t even think about what art had just done. you didn’t even realise he had done anything. he was just doing what you needed him to do.

you needed him. forever.

[ghostfacd]

IN A WORLD FULL OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN ! | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. despite being in a world filled of childish boys, your boyfriend was definitely a gentleman, always putting you before him

AUTHORS NOTE. the third installment because we love tom blyth and yn avocot. I recommend reading part 1 and 2 for more context!

tomblyth “babe, do you think we’re together in every universe?” is that even a question?

tagged @/ynuser

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ynuser stoppp i didn’t know youd actually take the question seriously

user1 get you a man like tom blyth bc oh my god

user2 idk what yn did to manifest him but i need her ways

user3 ugh idk what he’s doing with her lol he could do so much better

➥ user4 well someone had to say it..

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You didn’t understand how some people on the internet can be so . . . mean. Although there have been countless of fans cheering you and Tom on, it didn’t make it any less hurtful that there were still a ton who weren’t scared to be open about how much your boyfriend could do better.

It’s ironic; you think. They’re claiming they’re looking out for Tom, yet totally disregarding him and his girlfriend as human beings? Those weren’t real fans.

The reason for them hating you so much? Just for simply being with Tom. Everybody wanted him, that was your crime.

Everytime you got lost in your thoughts about this topic, Tom knew. Boyfriend instincts, he called them, but really, he was just a caring and observant person.

You tried not to break down over it, you really did, but a girl could only go on for so long before it all bursts out. Luckily, Tom pulls you right in, telling you to let it all out.

Although the world was filled with childish and hurtful beings, Tom Blyth was still who he was, a gentleman, attending to your every needs.

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tomblyth really dgaf if you like my girlfriend or not cause i do and that’s all that matters

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user5 im cryinf the polaroid he has of her

user6 YES REAL MEN STAND UP FOR THEIR GFS

user7 ALL THE PICS HE HAS OF HER 🥹🥹

tomblythswife oh to be yn avocot and be loved by tom blyth

rachelzegler tell ‘em 🙊

user8 she doesn’t even comment on the posts he makes abt her, so self centered lol

➥ ynuser I’m right next to him rn?? cant say the same thing about you “lol”

➥ user9 OH SHE ATE YOU UP @/user8

tomblyth_daily here are some clips of tom talking about his relationship in his new interview! GET YOU A MAN THATS LIKE TOM BLYTH 🗣️🗣️🗣️

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user10 the way he’s so passionate when talking about her and being a good boyfriend, God I hate being single

user11 “they’re not even that cute” STFU AND GO WATCH THIS INTERVIEW CAUSE ??

user12 tom blyth said put aside your nonchalant attitudes, im looking at YOU MEN 🫵🫵

ilovetomblyth he’s so boyfriend it actually hurts

user13 yn must’ve saved a continent in her past life to be dating tom blyth omg

ynuser girls, before you have a meltdown over a boy: think of what balleona laurent would do. kiss and manipulate coriolanus!

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tomblyth you kiss and manipulate me too

➥ ynuser you’re gonna get me CANCELLED

user14 literal unbothered icon i love her

user15 if i were her id post a tiktok with that audio “he chose me he don’t want you”

iloveyn SHES SO FUNNY

lionsgate us when behind the scenes photo of balleona 😻

➥ user16 lmao stop who’s the admin of lionsgate

user17 balleona is such a bad person but oh is she hot

tomblyth she was like a shot of espresso

tagged @/ynuser

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ynuser i love u more than words can describe blyth

user18 ok who’s cutting onions

user19 GIRLS, GUYS, THEY THEMS, STOP SETTLING FOR BARE MINIMUM WHEN TOM BLYTH LITERALLY CALLED HIS GF A SHOT OF ESPRESSO, GIVES HER FLOWERS EVERYDAY, AND TALKS ABT HER ALL THE TIME IN HIS INTERVIEWS

➥ user20 YELL IT HARDER SISTER 👐👐👐

user21 this is so dark academica im inlove with u guys

user22 parentssss

rachelzegler my favorites

ynuser SNOW LANDS ON TOP LOSERS

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tomblyth yn, i love you but

➥ user23 LMFAOO when he doesn’t finish his sentence

user24 the second pic thank u yn

joshandresrivera on top of u maybe

➥ user25 IM DYING OML

user26 thank you to lionsgate for casting the most hottest villain couple ever

[causenessus]

i definitely got way too deep into this and started my aforementioned 2 hour long video essay analysis of drunk walk home so here's the rest of my tags that don't fit </3

DRUNK WALK HOME

chapter one: morning after

masterlist

“i hear my heart breaking tonight / do you hear it too?” -pink in the night by mitski

cw: mention of/implied drinking problem

extras!

mattsun and tendou are #1 yn defenders for life it does not matter if she is wrong/in the wrong (and she is the majority of the time)

yn spent a good chunk of time on her own drinking herself into oblivion and trying not to care about the fact that she was crying in public before she called tendou

akaashi yn beef is deep and long-running (we will absolutely get into it)

he has not filter when it comes to yn and he hardly even tries

yn is still nursing that hangover and has not even once asked for her phone back she is too nervous and humiliated to even look at it

this is kinda chaotic and messy and it was kinda supposed to be but im sorry if this sucks im not confident abt it yet lol

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @bedeater @deluluforcarlos55 @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @crownj1min @frvppe @mollyrolls @karasyuu @ciderscape @phoenix-eclipses @s1ckntw1st3d @cnnmairoll @soobin1437 @worldgyu @snail-squasher @dragonictears @ferntv @reignsaway @Lisoozi @staygoldsquatchling02 @gsyche @yuminako @spicana @hermaeusmorax @shoyostar @whorefornoodles @hqsimprevival2024 @atsumuenthusiast @lemonocityyy @itsdragonius @robinphobia @aboveasphodel @savemebrazilhinata @lllaw @dreamingofyeo @milesmoralesluvs @miliondollagirl @kitnootkat @soulfullystarry @bows4life