#every single one of them is so precious

[glassrunner]

video games + “what it means to be”

[fancycolours]

I think it's pretty obvious how much I love Robert Lamm...

💜💜💜💜

[dnangelic]

whenever dark's life/existence as the niwa's curse gets equated to a living nightmare i fall over

[spacefighter413]

gods i love thin men in suits who don’t think of themselves as entire people

[justiisms]

"Just because we're small doesn't mean we can’t hide some big surprises up our sleeve. Isn't that right, you two?” *pikachu looks incredibly proud as he stands on top of yuta’s desk, his little arms crossed as he stares at the birthday boys*

“Since we’re all detectives, I thought I would put you two to the test. You know, just to make sure you keep your skills sharp. If you want to be a great detective like me, you have to be prepared for a case anytime, anywhere.”

“Now as for this little treasure hunt, I’ve decided to give you two hints. The first is that both of you will find your respective gift in the same box and that it’s somewhere in this room. And as for the second hint: I’m in your room and I help keep it clean. You hang things inside of me and then ignore me. What am I?”

*yuma furrows his brows as he mimics his even tinier uncle and crosses his arms, lost in thought as he stares at the ground. he seems to be stumped as to what he could be talking about, pika sitting down as he watches the two figure it out!*

*pikachu stays quiet, eager to see how long it will take for them to realize that a purple box with a red ribbon is hiding inside of the closet, pika making sure to stay calm once one of them gets close to it, the tiny detective not wanting his tail to start wagging and accidentally give it away!*

*it’s only when the other detective lifts up the present that he begins to clap, now letting his tail wag like mad as he pats the area beside him, wanting the two to open it on the desk!*

“I knew you could do it! Oh, I can’t wait to see the look on your faces! There’s no way you’ll be able to guess what’s inside!” *and once the box is opened they’ll find a ruby and a sapphire inside, both of them easily three inches tall and one inch wide?!*

“It’s the strangest thing, I had been wracking my brain for days trying to think of what to get you two when those gems suddenly appeared on my desk one morning! Granted they were uncut so I had to take them to a professional, but still. It was like some kind miner answered my prayers and snuck in and left some raw gems. I even asked around to see if someone left them there, but everyone was clueless. Now they’re yours to do with as you please. Display them as is, take them to have them cut into a ring, do whatever you like.”

*however, unbeknownst to the happy detective, something can be seen sparkling from underneath his bed, sableye’s eyes shining with joy before she silently slips back into the shadows~*

"Hehe, that's right! Which means you must had hid some ones for us, huh, Uncle Pika? I can't wait to see what it is!" He beams, before he tilts his head curiously at what their tiny mouse uncle says next. "Oh? Testing our skills...? S....S-Sure, we can do that. What challenge do you have for us, Uncle?"

Then, he listens to the challenge and the two hints provided. "Hmm...so in the same box, and in this room. And you put things in it and then ignore it..." Pacing around the room, he glances at everything to see what the answer could be... until he looks towards the closet door. And then realizing that the description they were given fits a closet to a T... "Oh! Of course-!" He goes over to it and opens it, smile widening when he sees the gift box! "Alright!! Yuma, look over here!" He chuckles when hearing his uncle clap and tail wag excitedly, and begins to bring the present onto the desk!

"T-Thank you!! Ohh, now I'm even more excited to see what we got: thank you, Uncle! Okay, let's see here...." As the two open the box and retrieve their presents, Pikachu would be right in them not expecting what would be inside, Yuta giving a small gasp of surprise as he looks at the jewels! "W...Whoah...!!! I-Is this a real ruby and sapphire?! W-Wow...!!!"

As he looks at the ruby in his hand and the sapphire in his Yuma's, he nods as his uncle explains what had happened. "O...Oh wow, I see... so these were left on your desk by someone... and none of the others knew who did it? Interesting... I wonder who snuck those on your desk, then? B-But wow, so you can get raw gems cut, huh... They're honestly very pretty.. y-yeah!! Maybe until Yuma and I decide what we want to turn them into, I'll put this one in a nice spot in my room as a pretty little decoration I can gaze at, hehe. Thank you, Uncle Pikachu! This was a very nice surprise! I can't wait to see what I can do with i-"

Then he cuts off when he swears that for a second, he saw something... sparkle underneath his uncle's bed? "...!" And then he saw her eyes: Sableye's! ("Oh! Sabeleye...! ......Ah. Ahaha: aww, Sable...") Now figuring out who the mysterious 'delivery person' that left those gems on Pikachu's desk is, his smile grows much brighter and warmer, giving a soft chuckle as he leans in to lift his tiny uncle in his arms, so that the brothers can give him both a hug~!

"H-Hehe, I hope you don't mind, Uncle. Just wanted to express how happy you made us! Thank you!! The little challenge was fun, and we promise to take great care of these gems! I love you all so much!" The 'all' subtly including Sableye, of course~! He doesn't want to put her out on the open right now, but the moment he's alone and can find her: he will definitely thank her in full!

[screampied]

sukuna never says “i love you.”

to him, the words are meaningless. he’s been alive for thousands and thousands of years, of course he knows what it means. he’s not stupid, but for some reason—every time it comes out of your little human mouth, his heart aches. you say it so sweetly with the cheekiest grin on your face, not a single care in the world. he hated it. three words, eight letters of pure rubbish. at least, that’s what he thinks to himself. for sukuna, he expresses his love in a different way.

physical touch. flicking your forehead, teasing you, saying things he’d never say to you while you were awake. that was his version of love, he didn’t need those stupid, stupid words. or did he?

“love you, ‘kuna,” you’d pepper another kiss against his cheek. he tchs, the audacity for you to do something so embarrassing. he never says it back but you know deep down he’s got to feel at least something in that cold heart of his. he just has to, after all you did steal his heart in a way. and he stole yours. your eyes always had a glinting sparkle whenever those words would come out and he hated it. his response to you saying you loved him would always be the same.

“yeah yeah,” he gruffs. or a simple, “i know..”

but— there’d be a time where he’d regret not saying it back. a cold, cruel time where it’s just you and him, no one else. except, it would really just be him.

sukuna had a hard time at expression his feelings. it’s not like he hated you—despite his rough, barbarous persona.

he didn’t hate you but he did. it was complicated. it was a struggle trying to put it into words. all he knew was that he loathed how soft you made him, he noticed his behavior would change around you overtime. sukuna’s voice was get more gentle, his shoulders would relax, and he’d always finding himself flicking your forehead for some strange reason. it’s annoying,

you’re annoying.

the feeling was love though, it had to be.

had to be,

so the moment comes where he regrets not saying it back.

it’s something he’d continuously beat himself up over for. because now, here you are, laid all out near the ground in his arms. all four of his arms held you in a tight, cradling embrace and he’s got an expression you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. sukuna’s scarlet red irises were blown and fearfully dilated. his thin nostrils flared up and his slit brows contort in panic and confusion.

sukuna ryomen was scared.

“brat. get up.” he murmurs, three simple words was all he said to you. three simple words but you could barely even hear them.

all you heard was a brief inaudible mumble. you saw his lips moving but barely any sound came out. your body felt crushed, the pain was excruciating. your limbs, they felt like they were on fire. getting up was the last thing on your mind and you’ve probably sone the most careless thing imaginable.

you took a hit for sukuna, a deadly hit that was powerful enough to cost you your life. it’s funny though—all the talk of seeing your life flash before your eyes, and now, being snatched into the inevitable end, you were starting to really see it.

“get up,” he repeats, and this time, a single tear falls right onto your cheek. you meet sukuna’s gaze. the king of curses was a mere mess right before your eyes. he was like this for just you. teary eyed and sniffling, he can’t stand this pain.

you’re being held in his lap and not once does his eyes leave yours. sukuna takes a while to speak again and it’s as if he’s carefully thinking of what to say. time was precious right now, but he didn’t wanna think about anything. his focus was solely on you, his favorite little human.

“can you hear me? say something.”

“you .. you’re gonna get wrinkles if you keep frowning too much, ‘kuna.” you hum, a weak finger stroking against his cheek.

archons, for whatever reason, that little comment brought a smile to his face. you were so annoying to him and yet, he wouldn’t wanna be in anyone else’s presence. everything hurt though,

your body felt scorchingly hot, your pulse remains to ring through your ears and you were wheezing a bit. “hey, hey,” he watches as you try to cling onto his hand. sukuna didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know what to say - all he did do though, was hold you. it was the least thing he could do. your hand was so small compared to his, his long fingernails gently tickling against your skin.

he didn’t have it in him to scold you for trying to protect him. as fragile of a being you knew you were, you did it anyway. you risked your life for him. sukuna let his guard down and you jumped right in the way without a second thought for yourself. that’s what love was, his heart bleeds at the recent flashback before a shaky breath leaves his lips. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. you can’t leave me like this, please.”

“i’m not l- leaving.” you reply, your voice weak and frail. sukuna knew that was a lie. the more you stared at him, how the look of worry on his face paints and marinates his features, he was really scared. you were his everything, his breath of fresh air, maybe even his one true love. “never gonna leave you, sukuna.”

and sukuna lays there with you on his lap. you seem still - too still. right before his eyes, he watches as your body’s temp run cold, final breaths making its introduction. everything was going so fast. he barely had time to react before he realized,

you were gone.

“no,” he whispers under his breath. the demon was at a loss of words. the feeling in his chest, it was indescribable. painful, and tight as he watches the light leave your eyes, something within him leaves also. a part of him. you were drifting away and there was nothing he could do about it. “no.” he repeats against, feeling a dull ache run cold through his body. sukuna didn’t know what to do. he’s seeing red, but perhaps that wasn’t just bloodshed and anger. maybe, maybe it was the one true feeling he was denying all along,

love.

his breaths become heavy once he realizes you’re actually gone. no movement, no cheeky replies, no random “i love you ‘kuna’s,” no nothing. the tear in his heart was enough to make him see the light with you. it hurt horribly, a lump in his throat builds up before he starts to weep. one tear comes then multiple shortly follow, landing past the thin fabric of his sown kimono and onto your lifeless body.

sukuna hated you. he hated how you made him so soft, so vulnerable, so weak. you came into sukuna’s life, stole his heart, and also broke it.

as his eye twitches, his smile had already faded once you left him.

for the first time in centuries, sukuna was defeated. his enemy wasn’t a sorcerer, a curse, or even himself who he believed was his true worse enemy. sukuna ryomen was defeated by four simple letters, love. not only did you leave him in tears, but you also left him with an engagement ring inside his right palm.

he was far too late, he was gonna propose to you. that way, he’d build up the courage to say those stupid, stupid words. opening up his right hand, he stares at the ring he wanted to give you way earlier before this incident even happened. sukuna waited too long, he’d actually plan this for quite some time but again, he was scared.

with a defeated sigh, he surrenders, glancing at you for one last time. no smile on your face anymore but he just used his imagination. there you laid, peaceful, almost as if you were asleep. taking a deep breath, sukuna gives you his last gentle forehead flick before finally telling you the words he’s been longing to say for years.

“i … i love you too, brat. never leavin’ you either.”

[saetoru]

AGE IS NOTHING BUT A NUMBER — GETO SUGURU.

kinktober day two — overstimulation ; find masterlist here

synopsis. befriending nanako and mimiko has its perks—like fucking their father, for example. suguru might have aged over the years, but that doesn't mean he's lost his touch. don't believe him? that's okay—he can always just show you instead

length. 5.3k words (bro this fic was agonizing)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, dilf! suguru, college au (reader is a student), age gaps (20+ difference), jealous suguru, teasing, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, pet names (baby, sweetheart, princess, angel)

notes. this took me so long bc i hate it so im posting it and running away to play genshin to slave away for primos

most people can tell their best friends everything. not you, though—you have a secret. a dirty, shameful, horrible little secret, in fact.

no one knows that every chance you get, every small little moment you can possibly squeeze in, you fuck your two best friends’ father—and it’s going to stay that way, unknown and forever hidden. suguru is young as far as parents go, just barely in his twenties when he’s found himself a single father of two, but that doesn’t mean he’s not too old for you. and it especially doesn’t mean that it’s not inappropriate to fuck the man that raised your two closest friends.

you meet nanako and mimiko during your freshman year of college—the rest is history. the first time you spend the night at their place, suguru (he insists you call him that on your first meeting) is overjoyed that his girls have someone as lovely as you.

who wouldn’t be? you’re smart, well-mannered, respectable, and incredibly studious. what a perfect role model for his girls—after all, every father’s worst nightmare is his sweet, precious daughters venturing off to the real world. men are dogs—suguru should know. they’re sleazy and prey on young women who are naive and unsuspecting, taking advantage of their hopefulness before completely destroying their innocence. suguru can’t bear the idea of his perfect little girls becoming victims of such sinister behavior—but that’s all quelled when he meets you.

but he never thought, not even for one second, that he’d become one of those men.

those older men who fuck girls half their age—the girls that are barely in their twenties and still don’t even really understand how taxes work. the girls that have just started to learn how to hold their alcohol and can only recently buy it legally. the girls who don’t realize how complicated adulthood can be, just barely spreading their wings and learning what it’s like to be free.

suguru has always found those men deplorable. they’re the awful, disgusting, untamed vermin of society—women must be protected from them at all costs.

but now? well….now he’s one of them—and he finds, even as disgusted with himself as he is from time to time, he has little regrets.

not when you’re sprawled under him, hands tracing over his bare chest, feeling the soft skin under your palms in wonder. suguru, though he’s not let himself go by any means, is past his prime—he still frequents the gym, and he has more time to go now that the girls are gone most of the day, but he’s not immune to the effects of aging.

his hair has more than a few strands of white sprinkled in now; nanako makes sure to remind him not to pull them out unless he wants more. he’s still managed to keep the abs he was once so proud of in his youth, but they’re still not as hard—layered over a slight belly that he can’t seem to get rid of no matter what he tries. his skin is a bit looser, and his eyes have slight wrinkles in the corners of them, but despite it all, suguru still looks as handsome as ever.

he’s aged well, still looks remarkably young for men his age, and still looks like that dashing young man he once was who stole hearts. in fact, he still hears about his looks, especially from nanako and mimiko’s friends—he’s always chuckled to himself and shook his head in amusement.

that’s your dad? god, he’s so hot.

what? he’s single? oh my gosh, do you need a mom?

i can’t believe he’s never been married—women in his generation don’t deserve him. i’ll take him off their hands.

wait, do you have pictures of him when he was younger?

oh my god, he’s so fine. are you sure he’s in his forties?

nanako and mimiko, bless their hearts, have always crinkled their noses at the…less than proper comments they’ve had to witness about their father. in fact, they’ve watched teachers practically throw themselves onto suguru at parent-teacher conferences. it’s bothersome—a little disturbing to hear their friends talk about all the things they’d let their dad, of all people, do to them.

but you? you don’t make unhinged comments. they appreciate that.

but if only they knew…

if only they knew that sometimes, like right now, when you’re spending the night, you don’t actually sleep—instead, you sneak off to their father’s room, lay on his mattress under his body, and feel his touch. you can feel him, hard and throbbing in his sweats as his clothed cock presses against your thigh—but he takes his time with you, and doesn’t do anything about the clear arousal pooling between your legs just yet. 

instead, he focuses on remembering your body—it’s been a while, after all. he hasn’t felt your hips, hasn’t tasted your skin, hasn’t heard your voice. 

“missed you,” suguru breathes, hovering over you as you hum, nipping at your skin as his nose brushes along your neck. your hand is playing with his hair, twisting long, black and white strands along your fingers. “haven’t seen you in a bit, angel.”

“i’ve had midterms,” you murmur.

suguru knows—nanako and mimiko have been studying for them themselves. he’s more than a little disappointed that you haven’t come over to study with them yet. but then, just the other night, mimiko mentions you’ve been spending your time with a boy at the library, sharing a table as you lean over his shoulder to look at his laptop. nanako giggles that you might have finally gotten yourself a boyfriend. mimiko hums and nods as she murmurs it’s about time.

suguru swallows down every bite of dinner with an aftertaste of bile that night.

a boy—a boy? you’ve been skipping coming over to study with the girls (and, by default, seeing him) just to study with some boy? what’s got your attention on the guy so badly? why would you break the routine you’ve had for the last few semesters for someone you just recently met? have you finally started to realize that this is a mistake? is suguru a mistake?

he thinks maybe not, now that you’re back in his bed—but he still has too many unanswered questions. 

“so i’ve heard,” he says lowly, “i’ve also heard there’s a certain boy on your radar.” he smiles bitterly, pulling away from your neck to stare at you with those dark, sharp eyes of his. “a much younger, and fitting match for you, i suppose.”

you roll your eyes, snorting.

“is that what nanako and mimiko have told you? honestly, those two,” you huff fondly, “i told them already. he’s just my partner for a presentation. we’re practicing.”

“oh?” suguru raises a brow—and then he shivers lightly when you lean up and kiss his jaw, eyes fluttering shut at your touch.

“yes,” you giggle, “no need to be jealous of someone half your age, you know.”

“that’s exactly why i’m jealous,” he breathes, leaning in to kiss you softly.

your lips taste like honey—probably sweeter, in fact. they drip with that decadent, saccharine taste of youth. he feels twenty again every time he kisses you, feels not a day older than his glory days.

“oh, you poor thing,” you grin, cupping his face as you scatter kisses along his cheeks and nose, thumb tracing the skin. fuck, is this what it feels like to be in love? it makes him feel so young, so free, and hopeful for the future. when was the last time he felt this way? “have you been losing sleep over my nonexistent college boyfriend?”

“well, kids your age fool around quite a bit,” he says in that father tone that he uses on nanako and mimiko, “what was i supposed to think?”

you’ve heard that tone so many times before; the one where he talks like he knows better, like he’s wiser, like he’s aware of something you’re not. 

girls, make sure you share your location with me—i need to find you in case anything happens. it’s for your own safety, end of discussion.

make sure you watch over your drinks, okay? men these days take every chance they get to spike them when you’re not looking. mimiko, i was your age once, too. i’ve seen this happen plenty.

don’t walk alone in the streets at night. call me. i’ll pick you up—no, nanako, it’s not lame. the streets are dangerous at night. there are creeps, you know.

don’t get into any boy’s cars, girls. you never know what’ll happen; one mistake is all it takes to ruin your life—hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. one day, you’ll understand i’m right.

“i’m not a kid,” you pout, and then, smugly this time, you wiggle your brows. “did’ya lose sleep over my imaginary boyfriend? you need plenty of sleep at your age, y’know.”

“no, you’re not a kid,” suguru agrees, “you’re a brat.” and then he’s back to pressing those hot, open-mouthed, hungry kisses along your jaw, humming in delight when you angle your head to give him better access. 

sometimes, it’s fun to get under suguru’s skin—it’s fun to break that carefully built, mature patience of his, pulling a twitch of his eye and a furrow of his brow from him. so, you grin widely as you murmur, “who knows? maybe he’d fuck better—more stamina, y’know?”

it’s supposed to just tease him, to make him glare at you unimpressed so you can giggle and kiss between his brows—but suguru stills at that, painfully stiff for a moment before he bites at your skin. hard. 

“oh yeah?” he hisses, his voice low and dangerous as he pulls away to glare down at you, “you think so? what, you think an old man like me can’t fuck you long enough?”

you don’t get a chance to reply—not before he pulls your pants down your waist to reveal your soaked panties, pulling a hum from him as he grins at the damp patch of fabric. his fingers circle over your clit for a moment, right over the cloth, making your breath hitch as you buck into his touch. 

“suguru—”

“look at that,” he chuckles, “wearing my favorite one, huh? can’t fuck you that bad if you try your best to impress me. isn’t that what you wanted? is that what you were thinking when you put these on before coming over? how precious,” he murmurs—he speaks so condescending, so knowingly, as if he’s read your mind just by looking at the red lace covering your dripping cunt. you cover your face in humiliation, but he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head, clicking his teeth in disapproval. 

part of you knows you should quit while you can—the other part? well…it wants to test the limits a bit longer. suguru has never been so easy to rile up, you want to indulge in it for just a bit longer if you can help it. 

“well,” you huff, “what’re you waiting for, then? don’t tell me the age has slowed you down—”

“you really don’t know when to quit, do you?” he says in a low snarl, “fine, you want me to hurry up? you got it, princess.”

it all happens before you can even register—one moment, you’re grinning at him with mischief in your eyes; the next second, he has you in nothing but your bra, bare in his bed as he pulls your legs apart and leans close to your pussy.

“you know the thing about guys your age,” he hums, toying with your clit lazily as you gasp with a twitch, “is that they really don’t know how to take care of anyone but themselves. guess they just don’t have enough experience to really figure it out.”

his lips latch onto your clit, sucking before he rolls his tongue over the sensitive bud as his fingers sink into your core, pushing past your folds and stretching you open. it’s slow—deliberately so, in fact. it makes your head spin, and your fingers curl into the bed sheets as you pant. 

“suguru, m-more—”

“don’t worry,” he coos, pulling away from you to grin up at your glossy eyes, “you’ll get plenty, baby. we’ll see if you’ve got the stamina. y’know, since you’re so young.”

his lips are back to wrap around your clit, fingers sinking and curling exactly where you’re most sensitive—suguru finds your sweet spots instantly the first time he has you sprawled under him. didn’t even take a moment of trial, just knew where to touch and kiss to have you unravel in his hold. that much still hasn’t changed—his fingertips press against the sensitive spot in the back of your walls, pulling pretty little whines from you as his tongue flicks over your clit. 

it’s always been a blessing that nanako and mimiko’s room is across the house—had they been closer, they might hear the mewl you let out as his fingers bully into you faster, unforgiving as they brush against your walls and build the ache up between your legs until it’s about to burst. 

“s-suguru, ‘m close, so, so close—”

“already?” he gasps, chuckling as he presses a kiss to your clit with a sly grin, “thought you had more in you than that, baby. so youthful—figured you’d last a bit longer.”

he’s mean about it—rubs it in your face some more that you’re so close so fast before he pulls his fingers away and doesn’t even give you the satisfaction of falling apart on his digits. it makes you sob, hips bucking up to chase the friction of his fingers, but he’s already gone, leaving your walls empty and fluttering around nothing.

“no,” your voice breaks, “n-no, so close, please. i want—”

“that’s what he would’ve done,” suguru hums, “pulled out before you even finished. that’s what guys your age always do—they don’t know how to make girls finish. you ever had that problem with me?”

“no,” you say quickly, shaking your head. you’re a pretty little thing, he thinks—pouty, wobbly lips and those glossy eyes as you sniffle. “no, you always make me cum—please, i wanna cum, sugu.”

“yeah?” he pouts with faux sympathy, “didn’t feel good, huh? feels better when i take care of you, doesn’t it?”

“uh huh,” you nod—you’re still panting through the aftershocks of having your orgasm ripped from you, chest rising and falling harsh enough that it fills him with pride he can pull such drastic reactions from you. no one knows your body like suguru—he’s too good at giving it what it wants for anyone else to compare. 

“think that boy—” he spits the last word like it’s poison on his tongue, “—can take care of you?”

“no,” you whimper, “no, he can’t. not like you, never like you.”

“that’s a good girl,” he nods approvingly, rubbing his slick-coated finger over your clit, toying with it teasingly as you writhe, whining for more. “you know something else about men your age? they don’t care to please a woman—don’t bother to appreciate them enough to make them feel good. you think that boy would be here—” he pauses to motion between your legs, where he’s currently situated, “—willingly? taste you willingly? let you cum on his tongue willingly?”

“i-i don’t…i never asked someone to—”

“did you ever ask me?” he interrupts, raising a brow at you, “you ever have to ask me? i just do it. wanna know why? because i know what i’m doing—know how to treat you right, how to give you what you need. isn’t that right?” 

“yes, yes—you always give me what i want—”

“what you need,” he corrects, “and you know what i think you need right now? this.”

his tongue licks a stripe along your entrances before you can say anything else, pulling a gasp out of you as your hands find his hair and tug—suguru groans at that, feels his pants get impossibly tighter as the aching erection he sports throbs between his legs at the way you pull at the strands so desperately, so needy. for him. only ever him. 

his tongue fucks into you, messy with the way he devours you, the slick arousal pooling from your cunt coating his lips, his cheeks, his chin. you moan—and really, it’s almost a squeal—when his fingers are sinking back into you, tongue flicking away at your clit mercilessly as he thrusts his digits in and out of your pussy. you’re close, painfully so, the pressure steadily building and building until you just can’t hold it back anymore. 

“sugu—’m c-cumming. god ‘s so good—feels good,” you babble, thighs closing around his head as his fingers curl into your sweet spot over and over again, not stopping for even a second as he helps you ride out your high. your walls spasm around his fingers, tight as they flutter around him and make him groan at the thought of being inside you. 

he watches, hungry and in awe, as your back arches off the mattress and your mouth parts, broken little wails of his name rolling off your tongue in a sweet melody. 

“i bet he’s never seen someone look like this,” suguru murmurs, watching the way the ecstasy takes over your features as your face falls slack from pleasure, “so pretty when falling apart. bet he’d never even get close to making you look so fucked from just his tongue.”

your orgasm ripples through you—it’s not new, the way he makes you feel so good, but it’s definitely nothing to get used to either. your body slumps back onto the mattress as you finish, panting harshly while he climbs up to hover over you once again. 

“that felt good?” he asks, nosing at your cheek as you nod breathlessly.

“yeah,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“hope you’re not tired out just yet,” he says smugly, eyeing the way sweat clings to your forehead and huffs of air exhale from your lungs with each labored breath, “because we’re nowhere near done, baby. not even close.”

just like that, your bra is unclasped and pulled off, freeing your tits for his mouth to latch onto a nipple, sucking and lightly grazing his teeth along the bud while his fingers tease at the other, pinching and rubbing over it with his thumb. you whine, eyes squeezing shut as your hand cups the back of his head and keeps him in place. 

“bet i could make you cum just from this,” he says with a laugh, “i don’t even need to fuck you.”

“please,” you dig your nails into his shoulder, moaning as he switches to wrap his lips around the other nipple, “please, sugu—n-need more.”

“be more specific,” he says lowly, looking up at you in amusement, “gonna need more than that, princess. you gotta help me out here—i’m afraid i don’t know what i’m doing.”

suguru is doing everything he can to drag this out—if you’d known one small comment would have him riled up like this…well, truthfully, you can’t say you wouldn’t have made it anyway. it’s exciting in its own right when he’s so determined to show you why you need him, why no one else but him is meant to see you like this, make you fall apart like this, have you sprawled under them like this. 

no one can know about you and suguru—not nanako and mimiko, not your other friends, not your family. you know what they’d say, how they’d feel. 

disgust—shame, even. he’s far too old for you, you know they’d say; he’s a red flag for getting with someone so young. no one can know that you come here, dead in the middle of the night when your friends are asleep, and fuck their father. not only that—lay with their father, talk about your hopes and dreams for the future with their father, giggle as you gossip with their father, fall in love with their father. 

something tells you the feeling is not unreciprocated—that suguru feels the same, that he loves holding you in his arms just as much as you love laying in them. maybe it wasn’t a joke, what you’d said. not to him, at least—maybe deep down, it stung; maybe he had something to prove. that boy might be closer to you in age, but he’ll never, ever treat you the way suguru does—no one will, for that matter. perhaps he has to show it so you really know. 

so you look him in the eye, pull him closer until his forehead is pressed against yours and you can press a delicate kiss to his lips before you murmur against them, “fuck me, suguru. please—need you.”

he groans at that, closes his eyes before his hips move to press the thick tip of his cock against your folds, dragging it along your entrance as he coats his head with your slick. it’s flushed a deep pink—it’s been neglected for so long that he shudders at the way it aches, at the way even the slightest friction along the sensitive tip pulls a soft gasp from him. 

for a moment, he wonders if he really will last long enough to fuck you properly—he might not, with the way your walls always squeeze around him, always have him ready to fuck his load into you just as soon as he’s inside you. the thought alone almost makes his cock twitch—but suguru is a man of patience, so he slowly pushes into you, inch by inch, looking down and watching as his girth disappears inside you. 

“look at that,” he coos, grinning wide as he looks back up at you, “took me so easily. ‘s cause when you do it right, it doesn’t take much, does it?”

“f-fuck—” your head presses back against the pillow, mouth hung open as you breathe heavily, trying to squirm and get even the slightest bit of friction from him as he stays painfully still. “move, suguru—please, c-can’t wait anymore. jus’ wanna feel you.”

“i know,” he chuckles, “patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”

despite it all, suguru is not feeling very patient anymore—it’s been long enough. his hips roll slowly at first, a shallow thrust of his hips that makes you both moan lowly before he all but pulls out and slams back in, hard. you can feel the burning stretch of his girth practically splitting you open, every thick vein dragging along your cunt and every brush of his tip against the back of your walls. it’s loud—the sound of skin slapping against skin, the sound of his deep groans and your breathless whines, the sound of the headboard hitting the wall as he fucks you into his mattress. 

“god—fuck, suguru—th-there,” you mewl as he slams into you right where you need him. 

you’ve lost count of how many times suguru has fucked you like you’re his. in his bed at night, in his shower in the mornings, on the couch when you drop by when the girls aren’t home, in his car that one time he drove you home when it rained, in your apartment that one time he dropped off your laptop because you forgot it. there’s one common denominator—the way he makes you feel, not just from the way his cock ruts into you, but from the way his fingers tangle with yours, from the way his mouth finds your jaw to kiss, from the way his forehead presses into your shoulder with warmth. 

it’s exciting, maybe. at first, it’s scandalous and a little thrilling in its own right. by now, it’s something much more than that—you don’t think anyone could make you feel the way he does, fuck you like he does, even if they tried. even if they knew where to touch and where to kiss. even if they knew what you liked and what you didn’t. 

they couldn’t be suguru—would never be suguru. 

“there, huh?” he pants, moaning softly as he feels your walls flutter around him tightly, “i know. i know how to fuck this pussy—my pussy. you think some boy you hardly know would know? think he’d care to learn? think he’d even try?”

“no,” you gasp, shaking your head as your hips buck up to meet his sharp thrusts, “no. no one would make me feel this good. make me feel so good, sugu.”

“ngh—sh-shit,” he hisses at your words, cock almost swelling harder at the way you praise him, at the way your words are almost slurred with no real thought behind him. it’s a little pride-inducing, the way you’re still able to sing his praises without having to really think about it first. he can hear it, the way you’re lost in the drag of his cock, drunk in the haze of pleasure, unfocused on everything else besides the way he bullies his thick girth into your abused cunt.

it’s a mess, it’s filthy the way there’s a mix of pre cum and your slick at the base of his cock, along your inner thighs, coating your skin as the squelching sound of him nudging past your folds fills the room.

it’s good, the way he makes you feel—he can hear it in your voice as you wail his name.

“s-suguru—oh.”

“what, you gettin’ all fucked out on me? ‘m not even close yet, princess,” he hums, leaning down to kiss your neck as he sucks softly into your sweet spot. you throw your head back, rasping out a cry of his name again as his balls slap against your ass with a harsh roll of his hips. 

and then his hand makes its way between your bodies, thumb attaching itself to your clit before rubbing punishing circles into the bundle of nerves—you sob at that, back arching up as your chest presses against his, nipples hard as they brush along his skin.

“s-sugu—close, ‘m gonna cum a-again—so close,” you pant brokenly, every sentence cut off with a sharp gasp as he thrusts into you. 

you’re close—you can’t fight back the way the coil in your belly snaps as he teases your clit. it’s still sensitive from the last orgasm, every nerve still burning up from before as he gives you more, gives you too much, almost. you cum harder this time—your second high creeping up on you when you least expect it. 

it makes your eyes roll back, makes your thighs quiver, and tears stream down your cheeks as you chant his name over and over. suguru, ‘s so good. suguru, ‘m cumming. suguru, ‘s all for you.

every sentence makes his cock drill into you faster, sloppier in rhythm, maybe, but faster. needier. bordering on desperate. 

“f-fuck, baby,” he grunts, “squeezin’ me so tight—such a tight fuckin’ cunt. you think just anyone deserves this? think you can just walk around and let anyone fuck this? ‘s bullshit—ngh.”

you don’t answer—can’t answer, in fact. it’s all teary eyes and soft sniffles as you mewl with every thrust, voice breaking between every pretty little sound you make. he’s still fucking into you, still dragging his cock against those sensitive walls, still bumping against your clit with his navel, still nudging against your sweet spot with his thick, swollen tip. it’s almost too much—it is too much, making you writhe under his body as you try to form the words. 

“‘s t-too much, sugu—c-can’t anymore,” you try, “can’t.”

“what?” he gasps, furrowing his brows in mock confusion, “you’re tappin’ out on me already? but ‘m not even done yet, sweetheart. haven’t even finished yet—don’t tell me you’re already spent. how will you keep up with your little boyfriend’s stamina if you can’t even take an old man like me?”

“c-can’t take anyone but you,” you sob, “jus’ you—only you. promise.”

“yeah? you swear?”

“uh huh. jus’ you, sugu—don’ want anyone else. won’t fuck me the same.”

“atta girl,” he coos, chuckling as he leans down to kiss your jaw, trailing soft pecks until he meets your lips, “that’s what i thought. make sure you don’t forget, okay?”

“fuck, suguru—’m…g-gonna…”

“gonna what? cum? you’re cumming again?” you nod at that—he grins wide, pride settling into the crinkles of his eyes before his thumb rubs harsh circles into your swollen clit once more. he looks pretty like that—hair framing his face, the mix of black and white strands sticking to the damp skin of his forehead. his skin is flushed, abs flexing as he pants over you. sometimes you feel guilty that half of why you come over to visit nanako and mimiko is to fuck suguru—the guilt is quickly extinguished when you see him like this, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his arms barely hold him over you, eyes shut tight as he groans. 

“i-i’m—fuck, fuck, fuck,” you can’t form sentences anymore as you cum—again. not that you really could before that, but now all you can offer is croaked half-syllables and shaky sobs. your walls squeeze around him, tight as they hug around his throbbing cock. 

it takes one, two, three more sloppy rolls of his hips before he lets out at a low, “baby, fuck—’m gonna fill you up. want that? want me to cum in you? make you mine? always been mine, haven’t you?”

“yes, yes—yours, sugu. yours, yours, yours,” you babble, words slurred between breathy moans and broken sobs. “wanna be yours.”

you can feel him—feel the way his cock twitches in you, the way he grinds into you to ride out his high, the way sticky, hot ropes of cum fill your walls, the way he fucks his load deeper into you with every sloppy thrust of his hips. his arms quiver as he holds himself over you—just barely, though. you can hear the way his voice cracks as he gasps your name over and over, as he mutters lowly about how you’re his, how you’ll always only be his. 

“mine,” he grits, “you’re fuckin’ mine—see how you’re suckin’ me in? see how i fit in this pussy like it was made for me? ‘s cause you’re mine.”

his body slumps onto yours as he finishes, head pressed into the crook of your neck as he kisses the skin while you both catch your breaths. you whimper, still sensitive, as he pulls out of you, a soft chuckle falling past his lips as he pulls his head up to look at you and press a kiss to your cheek. 

“so,” he starts, eyes laced with amusement as he takes in the fucked out look on your face, the tears still drying your cheeks, the swollen flush of your bottom lip, “still think you need someone with more stamina? someone who’ll fuck you better—”

“god,” you groan, slapping his shoulder, “will you drop it already? you got what you wanted, didn’t you?”

“no,” he murmurs, pecking your lips, “still wanna hear it some more.”

“your ego needs a reality check,” you huff as you brush a strand of hair from his forehead, “think i’ve fed it plenty all night.”

“actually, i think you crushed it,” he pouts theatrically, “talking about some asshole who doesn’t care about you right in front of me. after i take such good care of you, too. the girls already think you should date him,” he adds the last part with a slightly bitter roll of his eyes, pulling a giggle out of you.

“they think i don’t know how to talk to men,” you snort, “imagine they knew i was talking to men old enough to be my father.”

“hey,” he clicks his teeth, falling onto the mattress beside you—he pulls you into his chest, letting your cheek rest on his bare skin. it’s so wrong—lying in bed with the father of your best friends. but somehow, suguru feels like the only thing you’ve ever done right. “age is nothing but a number, sweetheart.”

if i have to see the word cock one more time im going to eradicate all humans that have them

do not comment about a part 2 !!!!!!!!!!

[ineffectualdemon]

Also I'm not sure the rest of Cang Qiong actually thinks Luo Binghe is the most obsessed one

Like to half the peaks they completely understand his obsession and devotion. Like Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge are like "Understand the motivation but hate the methodology"

It's Shen Qingqiu who Cang Qiong thinks is weird and unhealthily obsessed with Binghe

Their view of events as evidence:

He mourned his favourite disciple to a point other found excessive

He refused to return his sword to the sword wall and instead made a sword mound behind his house where he would mourn at

He stopped eating

He stayed away from the peaks as much as possible

He was a shadow of his formal self

He called out for him or spoke as if he was still there before remembering and being depressed again

when his precious disciple came back he was seemingly complicit in ruining SQQ's reputation as well as imprisoning him and WORSE: didn't return to his side immediately

Shen Qingqiu then sacrificed himself for his precious disciple

Who is a half demon apparently!? So he was LYING to Shen Qingqiu as well!

And then the brat won't return the body??! Disgraceful! Supposedly dishonouring it too!

And then Shen Qingqiu returns back to life and every single time choses Luo Binghe over the sect over his own life even!

Luo Binghe makes the speech about how Shen Qingqiu will never choose him and everyone else is speechless because What! Is! The! Brat! Talking about!?!

And then immediately after recovering from whatever the fuck happened at that cluster fuck of a confrontation Shen Qingqiu immediately disappears to play house with his precious disciple! Because of course he did!

Like I don't think anyone thinks he groomed Binghe. Like it was clear he loved White Lotus Binghe but not like that but he was still undeniably Overly Attached

And Qing Jing Peak is like "you have no idea"

"Almost as good as Binghe" is the highest compliment their Shizun can give them and they all hate it

Shen Qingqiu is so much more weird about Binghe then the reverse and Binghe is deeply weird

[gutsby]

Ruined!

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.

Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.

Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.

Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse

Surely he was hurting you now.

Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.

At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.

He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.

Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:

“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”

Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.

Crying, too.

Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.

“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”

Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.

Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.

Almost.

He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.

Almost.

“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”

And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.

“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.

Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.

Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.

He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.

“SON OF A—”

“—good girl.”

You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.

“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.

“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.

“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”

Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.

“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.

Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,

“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”

You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.

“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”

Probably forever.

“Good.”

You knew he liked it that way.

You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.

First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.

“Shit,” you whimpered.

Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.

“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.

Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.

“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.

His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.

And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.

“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”

It was.

More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.

He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’

Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.

[reignpage]

Basketball captain!Toji

27th March: he's sweet, really

warning: 18+ mdni, exhibitionism, voyeurism, size kink, rough sex, spanking, name-calling, car sex, possessiveness

basketball captain!toji is the world’s biggest dickhead. it is a fact, one not even he can deny. but he is also your boyfriend. this came as a shock to your friend group and in all honesty you’re still surprised yourself. 

basketball captaintoji is abrasive, calls you ‘woman’ when you’re arguing, or ‘ma’ when he’s buttering you up, you explain to your friends who don’t seem to understand why you like that. and you get it, toji doesn’t treat you like a precious girlfriend, you’ve seen your friends’ boyfriends; they’re sweet, cute, and so kind. you’ve watched romcoms, boyfriends are supposed to gift you flowers and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. 

you don’t bother explaining that basketball captain!toji expresses his love in a different way, that the harsh smacks he lands on your ass is his way of saying he sees you and when his only reply to your long rants are grunts it fills your heart with warmth because the fact that he’s replying at all, humouring you, shows just how obsessed he is. 

and it isn’t like basketball captain!toji doesn’t have cute nicknames for you — when he’s bullying his fat cock into your fluttering pussy he calls you his ‘little slut’ or a ‘pathetic cock-sleeve’. it may not make butterflies appear in your stomach but it does make your eyes roll back and your pussy clench. 

basketball captain!toji doesn’t take you out on dates to fancy restaurants, he doesn’t do walks in parks or wear matching outfits, though you’ve never actually asked him so there’s a possibility he could say yes. maybe in the future. your boyfriend does, however, drive you out to cliff edges and makes you ride him till you’re a shaking mess in the front seat and when you tap out, legs quivering in protest, he drags you to the back and jackhammers into you as punishment.

he loves it when you come to his games wearing his jersey, cheering him loudly. he dedicates every shot to you with a wink and smirks at your elation and laughs at his single teammates for not having a woman to cheer them on, says he isn’t willing to share either. basketball captain!toji may not express it clearly but his heart swells when you smile so brightly at him from the sidelines, and speaking of swelling, seeing his name and number on your body, making it abundantly clear you’re his makes his dick harder than it should be during a match. 

basketball captain!toji may never confess he appreciates your attendance but he does show it when he fucks you in the showers after the game. at this point you already know better than to even think about taking off his jersey. no, he wants to fuck you with it on, panties shoved to the side so he can bury himself to the hilt, clutching the fat of your ass whilst he holds you up against the cold tiles, swallowing your moans. 

pattering of feet interrupts you two, heads swivelling to the pink haired man who turns on a shower right next to you, dick swinging and balls hanging. he has a smirk on his face as he eyes you both before rolling his eyes and continuing with his post game routine. 

“oh, please, don’t stop on my account.”

[poppyseed799]

Just remembered I technically have a Reddit account, cuz one time someone posted an art I made onto r/fnafcringe and I got a lot of hate for it, so I felt the need to make a throwaway account to defend myself cuz I was like 14 or something. idk if anyone responded to whatever I said cuz I never touched the account again after posting my response. I don’t remember the username or password.

[starcurtain]

Teyvat's "Most Down Bad" Award Goes to Alhaitham for a Second Year Running

Seeing everyone making fun of Alhaitham for his "stalkerish" tendencies in this event is funny, because I feel like a lot of people missed that "Be literally everywhere Kaveh is" has been Alhaitham's MO from the day Kaveh appeared in the game.

From only grabbing his house keys after Kaveh returned from the desert (he couldn't have had both sets of keys at the end of the Archon Quest unless he went home and got Kaveh's copy) to ditching conversations to get back to his house only after Kaveh came home, to showing up without any warning or explanation in Kaveh's hangout with some ridiculous excuse about hearing his voice through noise-cancelling headphones... Refusing to offer any help in the Temple of Silence story quest other than staying in the library with Kaveh...

Since when does Alhaitham willingly cover anyone else's duties?

But this trend of "Be everywhere Kaveh is" didn't start when they were adults. It was already in place when they were still Akademiya students--and it's a trend that didn't end even when they had their fight.

Even when they weren't speaking, Alhaitham dogged Kaveh's every step through published responses to Kaveh's research articles in academic journals. He insisted on keeping a line of communication between himself and Kaveh open, even if the only way to do that was through very public ideological clashes. Pulling Kaveh's pigtails to get his attention lolol. It's implied that, for at least the few years between their fight and Kaveh moving in, this was the only communication between them--Alhaitham's refusal to allow their connection to entirely fade away. (And the fact that this is revealed in Kaveh's character stories--through his precious journal that records the moments of his life that had the most impact on him--shows just how deeply he values the fact that Alhaitham didn't give up.)

Another relevant side note: Alhaitham never asked Kaveh to give up his half of their house. Knowing half of it belonged to Kaveh, knowing that Kaveh may one day want to reclaim his part of it, knowing that it was listed as theirs, Alhaitham moved into the house and made zero effort to change its ownership. He was completely fine with living in "his and Kaveh's house." The stories suggest it was only months later (or even longer) that Kaveh even noticed he had the house, and he transferred away ownership of his portion without Alhaitham ever asking him (or even seemingly wanting him) to do so.

Please, let that sink in. Alhaitham actively left his grandmother's (presumably comfortable) house to move into "his and Kaveh's house," with no apparent explanation for why, and after doing so, he made no attempt to change that "his and Kaveh's" label. He moved into the house with no promise that Kaveh wouldn't show up on the doorstep the very next day and move in too. It almost feels like another deliberate provocation--I've moved into our house, are you going to come stop me? LBR, if Alhaitham had had his way, Kaveh would have been living there with him from Day 1...

There's also the fact that Kaveh literally can't write on a single message board anywhere in the entire nation of Sumeru without Alhaitham hunting his messages down and responding to them (which absolutely no one else does, by the way).

"NUH-UH!" "UH-HUH." "NUH-UH!"

Alhaitham's own character stories tell us explicitly that one of Alhaitham's defining character traits is "He is never where you need him to be," yet somehow...

Shot, and chaser:

Any time Kaveh is in the slightest bit of need or danger or just wants Alhaitham near, Alhaitham is "coincidentally" exactly where Kaveh needs him to be, whenever Kaveh needs him to be there.

Alhaitham didn't just "happen" to run into Kaveh in Port Ormos, an entirely different city from where he was supposed to be working. He didn't just "happen" to read the same terrible book as Kaveh when we know he otherwise would not waste a moment of his time on poorly-written literature...

He didn't just "happen" to appear when Kaveh was upset and needed a distraction in the House of Daena during Kaveh's hangout. He didn't just "happen" to be sitting around waiting when Kaveh needed answers after the Archon Quest. He didn't just "happen" to find Kaveh's academic publications and every single message board posting and respond to them at length and in public.

The only person for whom Alhaitham just "happens" to be available is Kaveh, over and over and over again--because he is very deliberately making himself a constant presence in Kaveh's life.

Which is exactly what Kaveh's mother told Kaveh he needed.

(Like, out of all things, I think people really underestimate the devs deliberately paralleling the romantic relationship between Kaveh's mother and father with Kaveh and Alhaitham's relationship. If you want to point to one thing that says "These two characters are intentionally queer-coded," it doesn't get any more obvious than this.)

Alhaitham, are you not embarrassed to be this transparent??? 🫣

[astrxq]

Soulbound Flames

jacaerys velaryon x reader

words: 15.7k

notes: based on this request!

In the shadowed corners of Westeros, where the ancient blood of Old Valyria still held sway, stories of soulmates and dragon bonds had long been whispered but seldom believed. These tales, passed down through generations like precious heirlooms, spoke of a connection so profound that it transcended the already miraculous bond between dragon and rider. It was said that in those ancient times, a dragon could sense the one person who was destined for their rider – a rare and almost mystical connection, deeper and more profound than anything known to the world of men.

But those days were long past, faded into the mists of time and legend. Few alive still entertained such tales, dismissing them as fantastical relics of a bygone era. Now, these stories were spoken of only in quiet corners, among the old and the hopeful, or in the halls of Rhaenyra's court, where intrigue thrummed like a low, constant hum beneath the surface of daily life.

You were no stranger to these whispered legends, though you had never expected to find yourself at the heart of one. The very notion seemed absurd, a flight of fancy better suited to the dreams of children than the harsh realities of life in the Seven Kingdoms. 

You had grown up in the court of Princess Rhaenyra, a place where politics and power wove through every interaction like golden threads in a tapestry. Your father, a man of keen intellect and unwavering loyalty, had been a member of her council for as long as you could remember. He was deeply entrenched in the delicate dance of alliances and loyalties that made up the backbone of the court, a world you observed with careful, curious eyes from the sidelines.

As his daughter, you were afforded a certain standing -- a place close enough to power to be seen, but far enough that you could move quietly, observing the world around you with a perspective few others shared. It was a unique position, one that allowed you to see both the glittering facade of court life and the complex machinery that lay beneath.

It was there, within the imposing stone walls of the castle, that you first met Jacaerys Velaryon. The memory of that initial encounter was etched clearly in your mind, a moment that would prove to be more significant than you could have possibly imagined at the time.

The prince had been little more than a boy when you first encountered him, his face still soft with the roundness of youth. At one and ten, he was caught in that peculiar stage between childhood and adolescence, his body growing faster than his confidence could keep up. And yet, even then, there was something about Jacaerys that set him apart from the other children of the court.

It wasn't his lineage, impressive though it was. Nor was it the way the adults seemed to watch him with a mixture of hope and expectation, as if already envisioning the man he would become. No, what struck you most about Jacaerys was the intensity in his dark eyes, a depth of feeling and thought that seemed at odds with his youthful appearance. Those eyes, you would come to learn, could convey volumes without a single word being spoken.

Your first meeting had been unremarkable by most standards -- a chance encounter in one of the castle's many winding corridors. You had been hurrying back to your chambers, arms laden with books from the library, when you quite literally ran into the young prince. The collision sent your carefully balanced stack of tomes tumbling to the floor, the sound of their impact echoing off the stone walls.

"I'm so sorry!" Jacaerys had exclaimed, immediately dropping to his knees to help gather the scattered books. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

You had been prepared to be annoyed, perhaps even a little indignant at the interruption. But as you knelt beside him, reaching for a particularly ornate volume on herbal remedies, you caught sight of his face. The genuine concern in his expression, coupled with the slight flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks, immediately softened your mood.

"It's alright," you had assured him, offering a small smile. "No harm done."

Jacaerys had returned your smile then, a tentative quirk of his lips that seemed to light up his entire face. As he handed you the last of the fallen books, your fingers had brushed against his, and for the briefest of moments, you felt a strange tingling sensation, as if a spark had passed between you.

"You like to read?" he had asked, eyeing the impressive stack of books with curiosity.

You nodded, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about your literary choices. "I do. These are mostly about herbs and their medicinal properties. My father says it's important to understand the healing arts."

Jacaerys' eyes had widened with interest. "That sounds fascinating. I've been trying to learn more about dragon lore myself, but the maester says I need to focus on my history lessons first."

The conversation flowed easily from there, both of you discovering a shared love of learning and a curiosity about the world around you. By the time you parted ways, a seed of friendship had been planted, one that would grow and flourish in the years to come.

The whispers about you and Jacaerys had started early, though at first, you paid them little mind. They were nothing more than the idle gossip of the court, after all -- soft-spoken observations about how often you and the young prince seemed to find yourselves in each other's company.

The women of the court, always eager for a new story to dissect and discuss, had their theories. Some said it was nothing more than the innocent friendship of children, a natural camaraderie born of proximity and shared interests. Others, however, hinted at something deeper, more magical. They spoke in hushed tones of the way Jacaerys' dragon, Vermax, seemed unusually interested in you, even from a young age.

"Have you noticed," they would whisper behind ornate fans and goblets of wine, "how the prince's dragon watches her? It's not natural, the way those golden eyes follow her every move."

"Perhaps," another would reply, voice lowered conspiratorially, "there's truth to the old tales after all. Dragons and soulmates, imagine that!"

But you had never paid the rumors much mind. After all, they were just stories, weren't they? Fanciful tales spun by bored courtiers looking for entertainment. You and Jacaerys were friends, nothing more. The notion that there could be anything magical or predestined about your relationship seemed laughable.

And yet, as the years passed, you couldn't help but notice the way Vermax's gaze seemed to linger on you, those intelligent eyes watching with an intensity that was both unnerving and oddly comforting. There were times when you could have sworn the dragon understood more than he let on, as if he were privy to some great secret that eluded both you and Jacaerys.

You and Jacaerys had grown up together in the court, your paths crossing often in the gardens or the corridors of Dragonstone. He had always been kind to you, though shy in his attentions. There was a gentleness to Jacaerys that set him apart from many of the other young nobles, a thoughtfulness that manifested in small, considerate gestures.

You, in turn, had found a quiet comfort in his presence. There was a simplicity to your relationship in those early days, a kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you felt the need to question. You could sit together in comfortable silence for hours, each absorbed in your own pursuits, or engage in spirited debates about everything from the properties of various herbs to the intricacies of dragon anatomy.

But as the years passed, that simplicity began to shift, evolving into something more complex, more charged with potential. The easy camaraderie of childhood gave way to a deeper connection, one tinged with an awareness that neither of you quite knew how to navigate.

Your childhood with Jacaerys had been marked by small, innocent moments that, in retrospect, held far more significance than you had realized at the time. Days spent in the castle gardens became treasured memories, each one a building block in the foundation of your relationship.

You had always been drawn to the quiet magic of the natural world, finding solace and purpose among the neat rows of herbs and flowers. It was there, surrounded by the heady scent of lavender and rosemary, that you felt most at peace. And it was there that you often found yourself in Jacaerys' company, sharing your knowledge and passion with the curious prince.

One particular memory stood out vividly in your mind -- a warm summer afternoon when you were both on the cusp of adolescence. You had been gathering herbs with a care that belied your age, your fingers moving deftly among the fragrant leaves and stems. Jacaerys had watched you work, his dark eyes bright with curiosity.

"Here," you had said, offering him a carefully arranged bundle of lavender and rosemary. "For you."

Jacaerys had accepted your gift with a puzzled smile, turning the herbs over in his hands as if trying to decipher some hidden meaning. "I don't understand," he had said, his voice tinged with a mixture of amusement and genuine confusion. "Why do you always give me these?"

You had shrugged, your hands covered in the rich scent of the earth. "They're for protection," you explained, recalling the lessons your mother had taught you long ago. "My mother used to say that rosemary wards off evil. And lavender helps with sleep and calming the mind."

Jacaerys had laughed then, though not unkindly. His eyes had sparkled with mirth as he asked, "And you think I need more courage?"

"It couldn't hurt," you had replied with a grin, pleased to see the way his face lit up with amusement. "Besides, everyone could use a little extra protection, even princes."

There had been something about that moment -- something in the way his laughter had faded into a quiet, thoughtful smile -- that stayed with you long after. Even then, you had sensed the way his feelings for you were beginning to shift, though neither of you were old enough to truly understand what that meant.

What you didn't know then, and wouldn't discover until years later, was that Jacaerys had kept every bundle of herbs you had given him. He had hidden them away in a small, ornate box beneath his bed, a secret treasure trove of memories. Though their scents had long faded, their meaning lingered, a tangible reminder of the bond you shared.

As you both grew older, the innocent exchanges of childhood gave way to something more nuanced, charged with an energy neither of you quite understood. You began to notice the way Jacaerys' eyes lingered on you a little too long, the way he seemed to find excuses to be near you.

There were times when he would reach out, his fingers brushing against yours as he helped you plant a new seedling, and you would feel a spark of electricity pass between you. It was a connection that defied explanation, a current of energy that seemed to flow between you, dragon, and rider.

And always, always, there was Vermax. The prince's dragon had been a constant presence in Jacaerys' life since he was no more than an egg. The bond between them was instantaneous and profound, as it was with all dragonriders. But there had always been something unique about Vermax, a keen intelligence that seemed to go beyond even the considerable intellect of his kind.

From a young age, the dragon had been fiercely protective of Jacaerys, following him with a loyalty that seemed almost human in its depth. But as the years passed, you began to realize that Vermax's interest in you was not entirely normal.

At first, it had seemed like little more than curiosity. Dragons were intelligent creatures, after all, and it wasn't unusual for them to take an interest in the people around their riders. But Vermax's attention had gone beyond that. There were moments when you would feel the weight of his gaze on you, heavy and expectant, as though he were waiting for something.

It was unsettling at times, though never frightening. In fact, there was a strange sense of comfort in the dragon's presence, as though he were watching over you just as much as he was watching over Jacaerys. It was a dynamic that you couldn't quite explain, but one that felt inexplicably right.

As you and Jacaerys entered your early teenage years, the dynamics of your relationship began to shift in subtle but unmistakable ways. The easy camaraderie of childhood gave way to a more complex interplay of emotions, fraught with the uncertainty and excitement of first love.

You found yourself hyper-aware of Jacaerys' presence, your heart quickening whenever he entered a room. The sound of his laughter, once simply pleasant, now sent shivers down your spine. You caught yourself watching him when you thought he wasn't looking, admiring the way he had begun to grow into his lanky frame, the way his jawline had sharpened and his shoulders broadened.

Jacaerys, for his part, seemed equally affected by the change in your relationship. His usual confidence would falter when you were near, his words becoming tangled as he struggled to maintain the easy conversation you had once shared. You noticed the way his eyes would follow you across a room, lingering on the curve of your neck or the sway of your skirts.

The whispers in the halls continued, handmaids and courtiers alike softly mumbling about the prince's obvious crush. You tried to ignore them, and you liked to think Jacaerys did too, but their words planted seeds of possibility in your mind that you couldn't quite shake.

One particularly memorable afternoon, you had been tending to the castle gardens, carefully snipping away at the overgrown tendrils of ivy that threatened to choke out the more delicate plants. You were lost in thought, your mind wandering as your hands worked automatically, when Jacaerys joined you.

You heard him before you saw him, his footsteps crunching softly on the gravel path. "You're going to turn this place into a jungle," he teased, his voice carrying a warmth that made your heart skip a beat.

Looking up, you saw him leaning against a stone pillar, watching you with an amused expression. His hair was tousled, likely from the wind, and you noticed a wooden practice sword at his side. He'd been training with his younger brother Lucerys, you realized, a fact that explained the slight sheen of sweat on his brow and the healthy flush in his cheeks.

You felt a smear of dirt on your own cheek and resisted the urge to wipe it away, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. Instead, you straightened up, brushing your hands on your apron. "I happen to think that a bit of wildness adds character," you replied, unable to keep a smile from tugging at your lips.

Jacaerys raised an eyebrow, his own smile widening. "Character, or chaos?" he asked, pushing off from the pillar and moving closer.

"Chaos, definitely," you admitted with a laugh. "But it's the good kind of chaos. The kind that reminds us that not everything needs to be perfectly manicured and controlled."

He nodded, his eyes scanning the garden with newfound appreciation. "I suppose I can't argue with that. As long as you promise not to let the roses take over the entire castle."

You hummed in agreement, though you both knew you had no real intention of reining in the roses anytime soon. Their wild beauty was part of what made the garden so special, after all.

Jacaerys moved to kneel by your side, his hands mimicking yours as he began to help with the pruning. You worked in comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sounds the snip of shears and the distant call of birds.

"How was training?" you asked eventually, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He shrugged, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Lucerys is getting better. He almost managed to disarm me today."

You couldn't help but chuckle at the mix of pride and mild indignation in his voice. "I'm sure you'll always be able to best him in something," you teased. "If not swordplay, then perhaps in your ability to brood dramatically while staring off into the distance."

Jacaerys let out a bark of laughter, nudging you playfully with his shoulder. "I do not brood," he protested, though his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Oh, but you do," you insisted, your voice taking on a mock-serious tone. "It's quite impressive, really. Very princely."

He playfully glared at you, moving to mirror your position and watch as you threaded the herbs in your hands. Jacaerys spoke of the latest lessons he'd been struggling with, his brow furrowing slightly as he recounted a particularly challenging session with the castle's maester. 

"Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever truly understand all the intricacies of statecraft," he confessed, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. "There's so much to remember, so many nuances to consider."

You paused in your pruning, turning to face him fully. The vulnerability in his admission touched something deep within you. It was rare for Jacaerys to express doubt, especially about matters related to his future role. "You will," you assured him, your voice soft but firm. "You have a good heart, Jace. That's more important than memorizing every law and precedent."

His eyes met yours, a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, more intense, swirling in their depths. "You always know what to say," he murmured, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

The air between you seemed to thicken, charged with an energy that made your heart race. You were acutely aware of how close you were sitting, of the way the afternoon sun caught the highlights in Jacaerys' hair, of the slight quickening of his breath. You cleared your throat, hoping to hide your fluster. 

Suddenly, a mischievous glint appeared in Jacaerys' eyes, breaking the tension of the moment. He reached over and plucked a small, vibrant flower from a nearby bush. With exaggerated ceremony, he tucked it behind your ear, his fingers lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

"There," he said, his voice soft. "Now you look like a true spirit of the garden."

You felt a warmth creep into your cheeks, your heart fluttering at the gentle gesture. "Thank you," you murmured, reaching up to touch the delicate petals. "Though I'm not sure I can compete with the actual flowers."

Jacaerys' gaze softened, his eyes never leaving yours. "I think you outshine them all," he said, his words barely above a whisper.

You found yourself leaning in slightly, drawn by the intensity of his gaze. For a moment, it felt as though the rest of the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you in this secluded corner of the garden.

But before either of you could act on the moment, a distant call broke the spell. One of the castle guards was approaching, likely with a message for the prince.

Jacaerys sighed, reluctantly stepping back. "Duty calls, it seems," he said, a note of regret in his voice. "But... perhaps we could continue this later?"

You nodded, trying to ignore the way your heart was still racing. "I'd like that," you replied, offering him a small smile.

As Jacaerys turned to leave, he cast one last glance over his shoulder, his eyes lingering on the flower in your hair. The moment may have passed, but the promise of more hung in the air between you, sweet and full of possibility.

The days that followed your encounter in the garden seemed to pass in a haze of stolen glances and lingering touches. Every interaction with Jacaerys now carried an undercurrent of anticipation, as if you were both waiting for something to happen, though neither of you quite knew what.

You found yourself seeking out his company more often, your steps unconsciously leading you to the places you knew he frequented. The library, where he would often be found poring over ancient tomes of dragon lore. The training yard, where you would watch from afar as he honed his skills with sword and shield. And always, always, the gardens, where you both seemed to find a sense of peace amidst the chaos of court life.

The day you felt a shift in your heart, Jacaerys had invited you to join him in the open fields near the Dragonpit. The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm, golden light over the landscape. Vermax, ever watchful, was sprawled lazily on the grass, his massive wings folded neatly by his sides.

You approached cautiously, feeling the familiar thrill of excitement at the sight of the dragon. Vermax lifted his head, his golden eyes following your every movement. There was something almost playful in his gaze, as though he were waiting for you to do something entertaining.

“What do you think he’s planning?” Jacaerys asked, coming up beside you.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s plotting some sort of mischief,” you replied, your tone light. “He always seems to have that look in his eyes.”

Jacaerys chuckled, a sound that was quickly drowned out by Vermax’s sudden, exuberant leap. The dragon bounded toward you, his massive frame causing the earth to tremble beneath him. You shrieked with laughter as Vermax’s warm breath ruffled your hair, and he nudged you playfully with his snout.

“Careful,” Jacaerys warned with a grin. “He might decide you’re his new favorite toy.”

You ducked as Vermax playfully tried to grab your skirts with his claws, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I think he’s already made up his mind,” you said, trying to catch your breath between giggles.

Jacaerys joined in the laughter, his face flushed with amusement. “Well, if he’s decided you’re his favorite, then I suppose I’ll have to share you.”

You swore your heart almost jumped out of your chest, you noticed Vermax’s huff at the prince’s comment.

At first, it was just a matter of curiosity. Dragons, as intelligent and formidable as they were, often took an interest in those around their riders. Vermax’s gaze would follow you with a keen, almost feline curiosity, his golden eyes tracking your every movement with a level of intensity that was both unnerving and oddly comforting.

You had grown accustomed to his presence. He would appear near the Dragonpit, his massive form casting a shadow over the land. His keen eyes seemed to follow you, watching with an intensity that suggested he was waiting for something. At times, he would perform small acts of assistance – igniting a pile of leaves with a controlled burst of flame or helping clear debris with a gentle sweep of his tail.

The dragon would often follow you, hovering just out of sight, his golden eyes always watching. It was during these moments that you began to realize the depth of Vermax’s fascination. He was not merely curious; he was attentive, almost protective. 

Jacaerys began to notice Vermax’s behavior as well. “He’s been following you a lot lately,” he remarked one day, his voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and concern.

You shrugged, brushing a speck of dirt from your dress. “He seems to enjoy my company. I don’t mind.”

Jacaerys frowned slightly, his brow furrowed. “It’s not just that. He seems… different around you. I’ve never seen him act this way with anyone else.”

You met his gaze, searching for an explanation you didn’t have. “He’s always been attentive. Maybe he just likes being near me.”

With each passing day, Vermax’s playful spirit drew you in further, his antics becoming a source of joy and wonder. You found yourself captivated not just by his impressive size and strength, but by the way he seemed to understand you in a way few others did. The warmth of his golden eyes held a depth that hinted at a connection you couldn’t quite grasp, igniting a blend of curiosity and exhilaration in your heart.

The salty breeze whipped through your hair as you stood atop the cliffs of Dragonstone, your eyes fixed on the horizon where sea met sky. The pungent scent of herbs clung to your fingers, a reminder of the morning spent in your personal garden. You were already making a name for yourself among the castle's inhabitants as a skilled herbalist, following in your father's footsteps but carving your own path in the world of science and medicine.

You breathed in deeply, savoring the crisp air that always seemed to invigorate your senses. It was in these quiet moments, away from the bustle of the castle, that you felt most alive. But as always, you weren't truly alone.

A low rumble from behind made you smile. You didn't need to turn to know that Vermax had followed you out here. Again.

"I know you're there," you said, your voice carried away by the wind. "You're not as stealthy as you think, you overgrown lizard."

Another rumble, this time sounding almost indignant, and you couldn't help but laugh. You finally turned to face the magnificent creature that had become your unlikely shadow over the past few years.

Vermax's scales shimmered in the sunlight, a mesmerizing dance of bronze and gold. His intelligent eyes watched you with what you could only describe as curiosity. It was a look you'd grown accustomed to, ever since the day he'd first started following you around the castle grounds.

"What do you think?" you asked, gesturing to the basket of freshly picked herbs at your feet. "Think we've got enough wormwood for that new tonic I'm working on?"

Vermax tilted his head, nostrils flaring as he sniffed at the basket. You chuckled, shaking your head at the absurdity of consulting a dragon on herbal matters. And yet, there was something comforting about his presence, a constancy in the ever-shifting world of Westerosi politics that surrounded you.

A sudden gust of wind threatened to topple your basket, and you quickly reached down to steady it. Vermax, in a surprising display of gentleness, used his wing to shield you and your precious cargo from the blast.

"Thank you," you murmured, patting his scales appreciatively. "Though I'm sure Prince Jacaerys would prefer you were with him instead of playing nursemaid to me and my plants."

At the mention of his rider's name, Vermax's head swiveled towards the castle. You followed his gaze, your eyes landing on a familiar figure making his way along the winding path towards you.

You felt a familiar flutter in your chest, one that you promptly ignored. Jacaerys had been your friend for years, ever since his family had sought refuge on Dragonstone. You'd grown up together, sharing lessons and adventures. But he was a prince, and you... well, you were just you.

"I thought I'd find you two up here," Jacaerys called out as he drew nearer. "You know, most people would be terrified to find a dragon following them around."

You shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of your mouth. "Vermax is a perfect gentleman. Aren't you, you big scaly brute?"

Vermax preened at your words, puffing out his chest and eliciting a laugh from both you and Jacaerys.

"I think he likes you more than me sometimes," Jacaerys said, reaching out to scratch under Vermax's chin. The dragon leaned into his touch, eyes half-closing in contentment.

"Nonsense," you replied, busying yourself with your basket of herbs to avoid meeting Jacaerys’ eyes. "He's your dragon. I'm just... a distraction, I suppose."

Jacaerys was quiet for a moment, and when you finally looked up, you found him watching you with an intensity that made your cheeks warm.

"You're not a distraction," he said softly. "You're..." He trailed off, seeming to struggle for words.

An awkward silence fell between you, filled only by the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs below and Vermax's steady breathing. You cleared your throat, desperate to dispel the sudden tension.

"I've been working on a new tonic," you said brightly, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. "For headaches. I thought it might help your mother, with all the stress she's under."

Jacaerys’ face lit up, his earlier hesitation forgotten. "She'll be so grateful."

There was that flutter again, stronger this time. You pushed it down, reminding yourself of the realities of your positions. Jacaerys was kind, had always been kind to you. But kindness wasn’t love, and you knew better than to dwell on such thoughts. You were content with the friendship you shared – its warmth was enough.

You crouched down, reaching into your basket to inspect the herbs, trying to focus on the familiar rhythm of your work. The scent of rosemary and wormwood filled the air, grounding you, but you were still keenly aware of Jacaerys standing just a little too close.

"Your garden’s thriving," He remarked, crouching beside you. He wasn’t one for keeping his distance, never had been. It was one of the reasons why you treasured your time together – there were no walls between you. No formalities, just the easy companionship of two souls who had grown side by side.

You smiled, plucking a leaf from a stalk of lemon balm and holding it out to him. “Smell that. Calming, isn’t it? Perfect for stress relief.”

Jacaerys leaned in, the closeness sending an unexpected warmth through you. His nose wrinkled as he inhaled, and you couldn’t help but laugh at his expression.

"Calming? It smells like... old socks."

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Only because you don’t know what to look for. Trust me, in the right hands, it works wonders.”

He shot you a sideways glance, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. "In your hands, I’m sure it does."

The words hung between you, and though they were casual, they carried a weight you couldn’t quite ignore. You glanced up at him, finding his gaze once more. 

You could have let it linger, but instead, you cleared your throat, standing abruptly. "I should head back to the chambers and start working on this tonic. It won’t make itself,"

You started to gather your herbs, your movements quick and purposeful. You tried to shake off the tension that still hung in the air, but Jacaerys’ presence was hard to ignore.

“Wait,” Jacaerys said, stepping closer. “I’d love to help with the tonic, if you’d have me.”

You hesitated, looking up at him with surprise. You raised an eyebrow, feigning contemplation. “Are you sure you want to trade the view of the cliffs for a kitchen filled with herbs and potions?”

He grinned, a playful sparkle in his eyes. “I’d trade anything to spend more time with you.”

The flutter in your chest intensified, but you pushed it aside. “Alright, then. I’ll need an extra pair of hands. But be warned, it might get a bit messy.”

Jacaerys laughed, a sound that mingled effortlessly with the crash of waves below. “Messy sounds like fun. Lead the way.”

When you reached your chambers, you paused by the door, holding out a sprig of lavender. “Here,” you said, your voice slightly hesitant. “Take this for your chambers. It’ll help with relaxation, especially after all the stress.”

Jacaerys accepted the sprig with a genuine smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “I’ll make sure to keep it close.”

Without a second thought, he tucked the lavender behind his ear, where it nestled among his dark hair. He offered you a cheeky smile, his gaze met yours, and there was a gentle, playful light in his eyes, as if he had just shared a secret with you and the world around you had receded, leaving only the two of you in its warm embrace.

You found yourself momentarily lost in the way the lavender added a touch of whimsy to his otherwise princely appearance. It was a small, almost insignificant gesture, but it transformed him into something unexpectedly beautiful, a blend of the regal and the endearing.

You couldn’t help but smile, admiring how the lavender seemed to accentuate his features. “You look quite charming,” you remarked, unable to resist the compliment.

Jacaerys blushed slightly, a hint of pink coloring his cheeks. "You think so?" Jacaerys asked, his voice tinged with mock seriousness as he adjusted the lavender, his smile widening.

"Absolutely," you replied, your own smile growing as you observed the slight flush that colored his cheeks.

“I suppose I’ll have to make sure to wear it often then."

And he did, each time you saw Jacaerys, there was the lavender – a constant reminder of that afternoon. It became a part of him, woven into the very fabric of his routine, and its presence was a silent testament to something unspoken.

You noticed it the first time he arrived at your herbarium, the soft purple hue of lavender peeking from his pocket. It seemed to bring a new kind of lightness to his demeanor, as if the charm of the flower was somehow intertwined with the growing affection you sensed in his gaze. After he saw your faint blush on your face, and the small smile you tried to hide when you noticed it, he’d started to wear it every day.

Rhaenyra’s invitation to join the court had been a momentous occasion for Jacaerys. At eighteen, he was eager to embrace the responsibilities and privileges of a more mature role within the castle, seeing it as a step towards adulthood. 

The dynamic between you and Jacaerys shifted, though the change was subtle and gradual. There was a newfound awareness in the way you interacted, a heightened sense of connection that simmered just beneath the surface of your everyday conversations.

You would find yourselves lingering a beat too long in each other's company, fingers brushing as you passed one another in the castle corridors. Stolen glances across crowded rooms held a weight that had been absent before, and the easy laughter that had once flowed so freely between you now carried an undercurrent of nervous energy.

Yet, through it all, your friendship remained steadfast. You continued to seek each other out, drawn together by an unspoken bond that defied the conventions of court life. Whether it was trading stories in the gardens or simply enjoying the comfortable silence of each other's presence, there was a sense of security and belonging that you found in Jacaerys' company.

It was during one of these chance encounters that you truly began to realize how much things had changed between you. You had been walking through a secluded part of the castle grounds, lost in thought, when you quite literally bumped into Jacaerys as he rounded a corner.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, stumbling slightly. Jacaerys' hands shot out to steady you, gripping your arms gently but firmly.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his voice. But as you looked up to meet his gaze, you saw something else there too – a warmth, an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat.

You nodded, suddenly very aware of how close you were standing, of the warmth of his hands on your arms. "I'm fine," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you."

Jacaerys didn't immediately let go, his thumbs tracing small, unconscious circles on your skin. The touch sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself leaning in ever so slightly, drawn by some invisible force.

For a moment, you both stood there, frozen in time. The air around you seemed to hum with possibility, with all the words left unsaid between you. Jacaerys' gaze dropped to your lips for the briefest of seconds before snapping back up to your eyes, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

"I..." he began, his voice husky. But whatever he had been about to say was cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps and voices.

You both stepped apart quickly, the spell broken. A group of courtiers rounded the corner, their chatter filling the once-quiet space. Jacaerys ran a hand through his hair, looking flustered.

"I should go," he said, his voice tinged with regret. "I have a meeting with my mother and the council."

You nodded, trying to hide your disappointment. "Of course. I'll see you later?"

Jacaerys smiled, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "Count on it," he replied, his voice warm with promise.

As he walked away, you couldn't help but feel that something fundamental had shifted between you. The easy friendship of your childhood was evolving into something deeper, more complex. And while part of you yearned to explore these new feelings, another part hesitated, aware of the complications that could arise.

After all, Jacaerys was a prince, heir to the Iron Throne. And you, despite your father's position at court, were still just a noble's daughter. The gap between your stations, which had seemed inconsequential in childhood, now loomed large and imposing.

But as you watched Jacaerys disappear around a corner, his tall figure cutting a striking silhouette against the stone walls of the castle, you couldn't quite bring yourself to care about the potential obstacles. There was something growing between you, something that felt important, even vital.

And unbeknownst to both of you, high above in the Dragonpit, Vermax stirred in his sleep, his golden eyes fluttering open for a moment as if sensing the shift in the air. The dragon let out a low, rumbling purr before settling back down, a sound that seemed to echo with satisfaction and anticipation.

As promised, you sought him out, as you walked the castle grounds, you stumbled upon Jacaerys in a quiet alcove, poring over a stack of parchments. His brow was furrowed in concentration, a sight that was both endearing and familiar.

"Hiding away from the world, I see," you teased, your voice light and playful as you approached.

Jacaerys looked up, a warm smile spreading across his lips. "Hardly. I'm simply attempting to make sense of these endless reports. Surely you know how tedious court life can be."

You nodded, settling down beside him on the stone bench. "I do, indeed. But I must say, you seem to be handling the burden with more grace than I ever could."

Jacaerys chuckled, the sound low and rich. "Practice, I suppose. Though I have to admit, it's much easier to bear when you're around to distract me."

The words hung in the air, charged with a subtle flirtation that sent a flutter through your chest. You met his gaze, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"Is that so? Well, in that case, I'll be sure to interrupt your work more often."

Jacaerys leaned in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Please do. I find I'm in dire need of a distraction."

The air between you crackled with an undeniable tension, and for a moment, you were both lost in the intensity of the moment. It was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, your hearts beating in sync as you lingered in each other's space.

Eventually, Jacaerys cleared his throat, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he turned his attention back to the parchments. "In all seriousness, I could use a break. Would you care to join me for a walk?"

You nodded, the smile on your face widening. "I thought you'd never ask."

As you fell into step beside him, your arms brushing with each stride, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. The tension may have been palpable, but there was also an underlying comfort in the familiarity of your bond. It was as if you had known each other forever, despite the ever-changing nature of the world around you.

The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by bouts of laughter and playful banter. Jacaerys spoke of his latest lessons and the frustrations of court politics, while you shared tales of your explorations in the city, weaving vivid descriptions that had him listening with rapt attention.

At one point, as you recounted a particularly harrowing encounter with a flock of noisy geese, Jacaerys reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingertips lingering on your skin. The simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself lost in the warmth of his gaze.

"You know," he murmured, his voice soft and low, "I always enjoy our conversations, but I find myself looking forward to them more and more these days."

You felt your heart flutter, and you couldn't help but lean a little closer, drawn to the intensity of his presence. "As do I, Jacaerys. As do I."

"I thought I'd enjoy court a bit more," Jacaerys confessed, his brow furrowed in a slight frown. "Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the opportunity, but it can be… overwhelming at times.”

You glanced at him, sensing the weight of his words. “It’s a lot to handle, isn’t it?” Reaching for his arm, you linked yours together. “It’s one thing to hear about it, and quite another to live it every day.”

Jacaerys sighed, his gaze wandering over the castle grounds, where the late afternoon sun cast a golden hue on the landscape. “I thought I’d be more prepared, but it seems like the more I try to understand, the less I actually know.”

“You spend every day locked in that dusty library,” you made a face, “Perhaps a change of scenery is exactly what you need.” 

Jacaerys glanced at you, his lips curving into a small, appreciative smile. 

“Or a good distraction,” you added with a playful grin.

He moved your linked arms to elbow your side, his eyes softening with gratitude. “I suppose you’ve been quite the distraction for me. And I’m not sure how I’d have managed without it.”

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words. 

The warmth of Jacaerys' gaze, paired with his words, left you momentarily breathless. There was a sincerity in his voice, a quiet vulnerability that you hadn’t heard from him before. For a brief second, the world around you seemed to blur, the rustling trees and distant clamor of the castle fading into the background. All that remained was the two of you, arm in arm, walking through a world that felt uniquely yours.

“You would’ve managed just fine,” you said, nudging him lightly, trying to keep the mood light despite the flutter in your chest. “But I’m glad to be your distraction anyway.”

Jacaerys' lips twitched into a smile, but his eyes remained focused on you, studying your face as if committing every feature to memory. "Still, I’ve come to appreciate it more than you know."

You turned your head slightly, the afternoon breeze stirring your hair as you walked side by side. There was a new depth to the conversation, an unspoken understanding that your relationship had grown into something beyond friendship. The stolen glances, the accidental brushes of skin, the way your words seemed to hold more meaning than before—it all pointed to a shift that neither of you could ignore any longer.

And yet, you found comfort in how natural it felt. Jacaerys had always been your closest friend, the person you could talk to about anything. That foundation hadn’t changed. If anything, it had only deepened, strengthened by the shared moments and quiet, growing affection between you.

As you passed beneath the shade of an ancient oak tree, Jacaerys slowed his steps, tugging gently on your arm. 

“Wait,” he said softly, glancing up at the sprawling branches that created a cocoon of privacy. The dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting warm golden patterns across his face.

He turned toward you fully, and for the first time, you felt a quiet intensity in the way he looked at you. There was a question in his gaze, though he hadn’t yet voiced it aloud. His fingers, still linked with yours, tightened slightly, and you realized how close you stood to him now, barely an arm’s length apart.

The wind stirred again, a soft breeze that seemed to carry with it the weight of the moment. You felt your heart thudding in your chest, as if echoing his.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and uncertain, like he was tiptoeing around something fragile. 

“Would it be terribly selfish of me to ask for more of your time? Away from… all of this?” He gestured loosely toward the distant castle with his free hand, the spires glinting in the late afternoon sun.

You blinked, taken slightly aback by the request, though your chest warmed at the sincerity in his tone. He wasn’t asking out of politeness, nor was this a casual suggestion. This was something deeper – an unspoken desire for space, for more moments like this one, away from the noise and demands of court. Just you and him.

“I–” you started, unsure how to respond at first. A soft breeze rustled the leaves above, and you realized you didn’t need to think too hard about it. “No,” you said quietly, your smile gentle. “It’s not selfish at all.”

Jacaerys' expression softened in visible relief, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He let out a small breath, one he hadn’t realized he was holding, and his eyes brightened as they met yours. 

"I was hoping you'd say that," he said, the familiar warmth returning to his voice, though the undercurrent of something more remained.

His hand, still linked with yours, tightened ever so slightly, as though he feared you might pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you found yourself leaning into the connection, the warmth of his touch grounding you amidst the fluttering of your heart. 

The world seemed to slow around you, the gentle breeze playing with the strands of your hair, the golden sunlight casting a soft glow across Jacaerys' face. His eyes, those deep, dark pools you had known since childhood, held something new now – an intensity, a vulnerability that made your breath catch.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The leaves above rustled softly, and the distant sounds of the castle faded, leaving only the steady rhythm of your breathing and the quiet tension that hung between you. You could feel the weight of the moment, the way everything seemed to hinge on what might happen next.

Jacaerys stepped closer, just a fraction, but it was enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from him. His free hand lifted hesitantly, as though he wasn’t quite sure if he should, and then he gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was feather-light, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I think,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper now, “that I’ve always wanted more time with you. I just… I didn’t know how to ask.”

His words, so simple yet so full of meaning, sent your mind reeling. You had always been close, always shared moments of laughter and quiet companionship, but this—this was something different. It was as if the lines you had both drawn so carefully over the years were blurring, fading into something neither of you could fully understand, but both were willing to explore.

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry, and met his gaze. “Jacaerys,” The words caught in your throat, unsure of how to express the swirl of emotions inside you. But the look in his eyes told you that he understood, that he didn’t need you to say anything just yet.

His hand lingered near your face, his fingers lightly grazing your cheek. For a moment, it seemed like the whole world held its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

But before you could speak again, before either of you could close the distance between you, a voice called out from the castle. A courtier, no doubt, summoning Jacaerys back to his duties.

The moment shattered like glass, the spell broken by the harsh reality of the world beyond the oak’s sheltering branches. Jacaerys pulled back, his expression one of reluctant resignation, though his fingers lingered on yours for just a heartbeat longer before slipping away.

“I…” he began, his voice strained. “I have to go.”

You nodded, the warmth of his touch still lingering on your skin. “I know.”

But as he turned to leave, he hesitated, casting one last look over his shoulder. His gaze met yours, and in that moment, it felt like a promise, unspoken yet understood. There would be more time, more moments like this – when the world didn’t press in so tightly, when you could simply be Jacaerys and yourself, without the weight of court life bearing down on you.

And with that, he was gone, his figure disappearing down the path toward the castle, leaving you standing alone beneath the oak, the fluttering leaves above a soft reminder of what had almost been.

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself increasingly aware of Jacaerys' presence in your life. 

You began to notice the little things, the small gestures that spoke volumes about Jacaerys' growing affection. The way he would seek you out in crowded rooms, his eyes lighting up when they found yours. The gentle brush of his hand against yours as you walked side by side through the castle corridors. The way he listened intently when you spoke, hanging on your every word as if they were precious gems.

One particular evening, you found yourself in the castle library, surrounded by towering shelves of ancient tomes. You had been searching for a specific book on herbal remedies, standing on tiptoe to reach a high shelf, when you felt a presence behind you.

"Allow me," Jacaerys' voice came softly, his breath warm against your ear as he reached past you to pluck the book from its perch.

You turned, finding yourself face to face with the prince, barely a breath of space between you. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice catching slightly as you met his gaze.

Jacaerys’ fingers lingered on the spine of the book, his proximity causing your pulse to quicken. You could smell the faint scent of leather and parchment mingling with something distinctly him, a subtle warmth that made the space between you feel smaller, more intimate. The soft light from the library’s candles flickered, casting shadows on his face and highlighting the sharp lines of his jaw that had grown more defined with age.

"You're welcome," he murmured, his voice low and filled with an unfamiliar weight. It was his nameday today, turning nine and ten, and though the castle had been buzzing with celebration all day, it was this quiet moment in the library that felt the most significant. The festivities seemed far away, drowned out by the quiet hum of his presence beside you.

You felt a nervous flutter in your chest, one you couldn’t quite control, as you tried to speak, to break the silence that hung between you like a fragile thread. “I didn’t expect you here,” you said softly, your fingers brushing the edge of the book he’d handed you. “Shouldn’t you be at your nameday feast?”

Jacaerys smiled, a small, almost sheepish curve of his lips that sent warmth through you. “I should be,” he admitted, his eyes holding yours. “But I needed some air... and maybe a bit of quiet. It’s overwhelming sometimes.”

You nodded, understanding immediately. The weight of expectation that came with his name, his birthright, was always heavy. "I imagine it must be. All those people, eyes on you."

He let out a soft sigh, his hand brushing against yours as he shifted the book to you more securely. “Exactly. And... well, I was hoping to find you.”

Your heart skipped at his words, and you blinked up at him, momentarily lost for a reply. 

“I’m glad you did,” you managed to say, your voice quieter than you’d intended.

Jacaerys stepped just a fraction closer, the space between you shrinking as he tilted his head slightly, his expression softening. His lips quirked into a playful smile, the kind that had always made your heart stumble in your chest. 

"You wouldn’t believe the amount of gifts I’ve been forced to graciously accept today," he said, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. “Half the court is vying for a chance to be in my good graces, hoping one of their children might become my future Hand when I take the throne.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head as if the thought were absurd, though you knew the pressures that came with his title weighed on him more than he liked to admit. There was something in his eyes – an unspoken weariness, a hint of the heavy responsibility he bore, even as he tried to make light of it.

You couldn’t help but smile, the image of Jacaerys surrounded by lavish gifts from eager courtiers painting a rather amusing picture in your mind. "Let me guess, dozens of finely crafted swords, books you’ll never read, and enough embroidered tunics to last you a lifetime?"

“More than I know what to do with,” he said with a dramatic sigh, leaning a little closer, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you. “One lord even gifted me a statue of a dragon, carved from some rare stone. It weighs more than Vermax himself, I swear.”

You laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet of the library, and for a moment, it felt like the world had melted away, leaving just the two of you in this small, secluded space. “What are you going to do with all of it?”

“I’m thinking of donating it to the maesters,” he said, his voice playful but with an undertone of sincerity. “They’re always looking for more clutter, aren’t they?”

His humor was infectious, and you found yourself grinning, shaking your head at him. “They’d probably find a way to use it in some lesson about the history of Valyria.”

Jacaerys chuckled, his eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and something softer, deeper. The air between you grew thick again, the earlier tension returning, but this time, it felt different. Less uncertain, more sure. 

He lifted his hand, slowly, tentatively, as though he were testing the boundaries of whatever was blossoming between you. His fingers brushed lightly against your wrist, tracing the skin there in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. The gentle touch was intimate, delicate, as though he were savoring the moment, reluctant to let it end.

"You know," he began, his voice barely above a whisper now, "all those presents – they don’t mean anything. Not really." His gaze locked with yours, the intensity in his eyes making your breath catch. "I only wanted one thing today."

Your heart raced, your pulse quickening under his touch, and you found yourself leaning in ever so slightly, drawn to him in a way that felt both natural and terrifying.

“And what’s that?” you asked softly, your voice barely more

Jacaerys’ eyes never left yours as he spoke, his voice low and soft, a quiet intimacy threading through his words. “You,” he said, the single word hanging in the air between you like a confession, vulnerable and raw.

Your breath hitched, heart pounding so loudly that you were sure he could hear it in the stillness of the library. For a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. All you could feel was the weight of his gaze, the warmth of his hand against your wrist, and the undeniable pull that had been building between you for what felt like years.

His fingers tightened ever so slightly on your wrist, a silent plea, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin. 

“I’ve spent so much time in the court,” he said quietly, his voice low and filled with the weight of his thoughts. “Handling affairs, playing the part of the prince, always doing what’s expected of me. But lately… I’ve missed you.” His words carried an ache, as if the time apart had been a slow, painful realization of what he truly wanted. 

Your heart fluttered at his words, the depth of his confession settling over you like a warm blanket. You felt a tightening in your chest, the emotions you’d been trying to keep at bay now rushing to the surface.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you reached into the folds of your dress and pulled out a small, carefully wrapped package. You had agonized over this gift for weeks, wanting it to be perfect.

"I have something for you," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "For your nameday."

Jacaerys' eyes widened slightly, a mix of surprise and curiosity crossing his features. He loosened his grip on your wrist, allowing you to place the gift in his hand.

"You didn't have to–" he began, but you shook your head, silencing him with a gentle smile.

"I wanted to," you assured him. "I suppose you can add this to the mountain of gifts you've received today. Though it might get lost among all those rare stone dragons." you jested.

Jacaerys chuckled softly, but his eyes remained intense as they held yours. "Anything from you could never get lost in a pile," he murmured, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your wrist. "It already stands out from anything any lord could offer."

Your breath caught at his words, the depth of feeling behind them unmistakable. Jacaerys glanced down at the small package in his hand, his fingers running over the careful wrapping.

"Aren't you going to open it?" you asked, suddenly feeling a bit nervous about your choice of gift.

Jacaerys shook his head, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Not yet," he said. "I want to savor this moment a little longer."

Your heart raced as you realized how close you were standing, the warmth of his body radiating towards you in the quiet of the library. Without overthinking, you leaned in and pressed a soft, quick kiss to his cheek.

"Happy nameday, Jace," you whispered, your lips brushing his skin as you spoke.

You pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze once more. His eyes were wide with surprise, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in the charged atmosphere between you.

Then, gathering your courage, you took a small step back. "I should go," you said softly, though every part of you wanted to stay. "You have a feast to return to, after all."

Jacaerys nodded, seemingly still stunned by your gesture. As you turned to leave, you glanced back over your shoulder. Jacaerys stood there, the small package clutched in one hand. The look on his face was one of wonder and longing, as if he had just been given the most precious gift in all the Seven Kingdoms.

He smiled to himself, a mixture of joy and longing filling his chest. As he finally moved to rejoin his nameday feast, he knew that this moment – this gift – would be the one he cherished most from this day forward.

In the days that followed your moment with Jacaerys in the library, you noticed a distinct change in Vermax's behavior. The dragon, always attentive to you before, now seemed utterly determined not to let you out of his sight.

It started the very next morning. As you made your way to the herb gardens, a familiar shadow fell over you. Looking up, you saw Vermax circling overhead, his bronze scales glinting in the early sunlight. You thought nothing of it at first – the dragon often flew over the castle grounds. But as you reached the gardens and began your work, you realized Vermax had landed nearby and was watching you intently.

"Hello there," you called out, amused by his intense gaze. "Come to help with the weeding?"

Vermax huffed, a puff of warm air ruffling your hair. He settled himself more comfortably on the grass, his tail curling around him like a cat. His golden eyes never left you as you went about your tasks.

As the day wore on, Vermax's presence became a constant. When you moved to a different part of the garden, he would follow, sometimes knocking over pots or uprooting plants in his eagerness to stay close. You found yourself having to work around him, like a gardener might work around a particularly large and scaly cat.

"You're being rather clingy today, aren't you?" you muttered, reaching around his massive form to grab a watering can. Vermax merely blinked slowly at you, looking utterly content.

The pattern continued over the next few days. Whenever you left your chambers, Vermax would appear, following you around the castle’s outings with a single-minded determination. He would curl up outside the great hall while you dined, much to the bewilderment of the other courtiers. During your walks in the castle grounds, he would lumber along beside you, occasionally nudging you with his snout as if seeking attention.

One afternoon, as you sat in a quiet corner of the courtyard, attempting to read, Vermax decided your lap looked like the perfect place to rest his head. You found yourself with a lapful of warm, scaly dragon, your book forgotten as you absently stroked the ridges along his snout.

"What's gotten into you?" you wondered aloud, scratching behind one of his horns. Vermax rumbled contentedly, his eyes half-closed in bliss.

It was during one of these moments that Jacaerys found you. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sight of his usually aloof dragon behaving like an overgrown housecat.

"Well, this is new," he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I've been looking for him all morning. Should have known he'd be with you."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, remembering your last encounter in the library. "He's been... rather attentive lately," you explained, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jacaerys moved closer, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Attentive? It looks like he's adopted you."

Vermax opened one eye to look at his rider, then promptly closed it again, snuggling closer to you. You couldn't help but laugh.

"I'm not sure what I've done to deserve such devotion," you said, your fingers still absently stroking Vermax's scales.

Jacaerys' expression softened, his gaze moving from Vermax to you. "I think I might have an idea," he said softly, so quietly that you almost missed it.

For a heartbeat, you didn’t dare breathe. You had heard the whispers – the soft murmurings that floated through the halls of the castle, spoken behind fans and shared in hushed tones over goblets of wine. They were the same rumors that had always been dismissed as mere fables: ancient tales about dragons and soulmates, myths that most of the court laughed off as fantastical relics from a bygone era.

You had grown up with the legends, just as any child of Westeros had. It was said that in the ancient days of Old Valyria, dragons could sense the one person destined for their rider, a bond so profound it went beyond even the magical connection between rider and dragon. This connection was rare, deeper than anything known to man, and some believed it tied the fates of the rider, dragon, and soulmate together, forever.

But those were only stories, weren’t they?

The thought made your heart race, even as Vermax nudged your hand, demanding more attention. 

Jacaerys seemed to sense your hesitation. He sat down beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours, the warmth of his presence both reassuring and unnerving. The weight of those whispered legends hung in the air between you, heavy with possibilities neither of you dared voice. You could feel the question in the space between you, but neither of you seemed willing to give it life, to allow the old stories to weave themselves into your reality.

Vermax huffed contentedly, his golden eyes half-lidded as you continued to stroke his scales. The warmth of the dragon’s presence, combined with Jacaerys’ closeness, made the world feel smaller, more intimate. And yet, the thought of those legends, of the connection they hinted at, stirred something deep within you.

But you weren’t ready to confront that – not yet.

Jacaerys cleared his throat softly, breaking the silence with a casual tone, though you could hear the undercurrent of something more in his voice. "Vermax has always had a mind of his own. I suppose it’s not so strange that he’s taken a liking to you." His words were light, but there was a subtle tension in them, as if he, too, was choosing his words carefully.

You let out a quiet laugh, grateful for the shift in conversation. "He’s a bit of a menace, truth be told," you teased, brushing some dirt from your hands. "I don’t think I’ve ever had a dragon try to uproot my herb garden before."

Jacaerys grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced at Vermax. "He has a habit of getting in the way. I’m surprised you’ve managed to work around him."

You shrugged, smiling despite yourself. "I’ve learned to make do. Besides, it’s not every day you get a dragon for company. He’s surprisingly good at weeding, though I’m not sure he knows that’s what he’s doing."

Jacaerys chuckled, and the sound eased the tension in your chest. For a few moments, the weight of the unspoken words between you lightened, and you both fell into an easy rhythm, the kind that had defined your friendship over the years.

"I suppose I should count myself lucky," you continued, your voice teasing. "Not many people can say they have a dragon who’s decided to follow them around like a lost pup."

Jacaerys leaned back on his hands, gazing at Vermax with a fond smile. "I think you’ve charmed him," he said, his tone playful but gentle. "Though, to be fair, you tend to have that effect on people."

"I think it’s the herbs. Maybe he likes the smell."

Jacaerys turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a softness that made your heart skip. Your heart raced as Jacaerys' eyes dropped to your lips, his breathing slowing ever so slightly. 

You watched as Jacaerys’ gaze flicked back to your eyes, the intensity there nearly making you forget how to breathe. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you. His face leaned closer, his lips only a breath away from yours, and the heat of his proximity made your pulse quicken.

Vermax, sensing none of this, shifted lazily beside you, his warm breath ruffling your hair as you absentmindedly stroked his scales. The dragon’s presence had always been comforting, but now, with Jacaerys so close, you felt a different kind of warmth, one that had nothing to do with the huge dragon lying next to you.

Jacaerys cleared his throat again, but this time, the sound was more hesitant, as if he were about to wade into dangerous waters. He glanced down at his hands before turning back to you, his voice quieter now, almost cautious. 

"Have you ever… thought about marriage?" His tone was casual, but you could hear the tension beneath it, the way he was testing the waters with the question.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. You hadn’t expected him to ask something like that – not after years of avoiding the topic, of keeping your interactions light and playful. The mention of marriage, especially from Jacaerys, felt like stepping too close to the edge of something vast and unknown.

"Marriage?" you repeated softly, buying yourself time as your mind raced. 

You glanced at him, searching his face for clues, for some indication of what he was really asking. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes held a strange intensity that made your stomach twist with nerves.

"Yes," he said, his voice steady, though you could sense the underlying current of uncertainty. "I mean… you must know it’s a topic that comes up often in court. Especially for someone like you. I imagine there have been offers."

You hesitated, unsure of how to answer. It wasn’t that the subject hadn’t crossed your mind – of course it had. You were of an age where most noblewomen were already spoken for, and though your father had never pressured you, there had been whispers, suggestions from the court that a match should be made soon. But you had always brushed those conversations aside, content with your life, with the simple joys of herbcraft and your time with Jacaerys.

"Offers, yes," you admitted after a moment, your voice quieter now. "But I’ve never taken any of them seriously."

Jacaerys tilted his head slightly, his eyes searching yours as if trying to read your thoughts. "Why not?"

You shrugged, trying to maintain some semblance of nonchalance, though your heart was racing in your chest. "I suppose I’ve never felt… connected to them in that way." The words felt heavier than you intended, and you quickly glanced away, focusing on Vermax instead of the prince beside you.

For a long moment, Jacaerys said nothing. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, and though you were tempted to fill the silence, something held you back, as if speaking too soon might unravel whatever fragile thread was holding the moment together.

"I see," Jacaerys finally said, his voice soft but laced with something unspoken. 

His eyes searched yours, as though he were trying to decipher the meaning behind your words – your hesitation, the quiet way you had admitted to have been looking for love. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, and though Vermax lay contentedly beside you, his warmth comforting, it did nothing to quell the flutter of nerves building inside you.

"What about you?" you asked, your voice softer now, almost hesitant. "I imagine you've had many offers as well."

Jacaerys' expression shifted, the playful edge that had always been a hallmark of your friendship disappearing entirely. His face grew serious, his gaze lowering as he seemed to consider your question. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer, that perhaps you had ventured too far into territory neither of you were ready to explore.

But then he sighed, his voice quieter than before, almost reflective. "There have been offers," he admitted, his tone neutral but with an undercurrent of tension. "Plenty of them, actually. It comes with the title. People see a future king and want to secure their place in that future."

His words felt distant, like they belonged to someone else, someone far removed from the boy you had grown up with. You could hear the weight of his responsibilities in his voice, the burden of being a prince, always expected to make decisions not just for himself but for an entire kingdom. 

"And yet," he continued, his eyes lifting to meet yours once more, "none of them ever felt right."

Your breath caught at his words. You hesitated, unsure of how to navigate the delicate tension between you. "Why not?" you asked softly, echoing his earlier question to you.

Jacaerys smiled, though it was a small, almost wistful expression, as if he were contemplating something he wasn’t sure he should say. His hand, which had been resting on the grass beside him, inched closer to yours, the tips of his fingers barely brushing against your own. The touch sent a shiver through you, a subtle but undeniable connection.

"I suppose," he began slowly, his voice thoughtful, "I’ve been waiting for something… more." He paused, glancing away for a brief moment before looking back at you. "Someone I feel connected to. Someone I trust. Someone who sees me, not just the prince."

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came. The silence stretched on, charged with the unsaid, the emotions neither of you could fully express. The space between you felt smaller, more intimate, as if the world outside this moment had faded into nothing.

Jacaerys shifted slightly, his hand finally closing the distance between you, his fingers curling around yours. The touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as if he were still testing the waters of whatever was growing between you. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, and the simple gesture sent a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the dragon resting beside you.

"Do you think…" he began, his voice barely above a whisper now, "that it’s possible for someone like me to have that? To choose for myself?"

Your breath hitched at his question, and for a moment, you were unsure how to answer. Jacaerys, the future king, bound by duty and responsibility, was asking you something so personal, so vulnerable. The weight of his title, his future, pressed down on both of you, and yet, here in this quiet moment, it felt as though it was just the two of you, free from the expectations of the world.

"I think," you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest, "if anyone deserves to choose, it’s you."

Your words seemed to settle over him, a quiet reassurance that made the tension in his shoulders ease just a fraction. He gave you a small, grateful smile, one that made your chest tighten with something you weren’t ready to name.

Finally, Jacaerys broke the silence, his voice soft and filled with a quiet resolve. "Maybe one day," he said, his thumb still tracing slow circles on your hand, "we’ll both get to choose."

The weight of Jacaerys' words lingered in the air between you, a tangible presence that seemed to weave its way into the very fabric of the moment. You could feel the quiet intensity of his gaze, his thumb still brushing against your hand, a gentle, rhythmic motion that seemed to steady both of you.

His hand remained entwined with yours, and you noticed the way his fingers moved, absently tracing the lines of your palm. There was a tenderness in his touch, a delicate acknowledgment of the closeness that had grown between you.

As if to seal the moment, Jacaerys leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the palm of your hand. The sensation was warm and electrifying, sending a shiver up your arm. His lips lingered for a heartbeat longer than necessary, and the intimacy of the gesture made your heart race. His fingers played with yours, the touch light and exploratory, a silent communication that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

Jacaerys’ eyes met yours, and in that look, you saw a reflection of your own feelings – a mixture of hope, uncertainty, and an undeniable connection. His hand remained in yours, a comforting presence that felt both familiar and new.

The quiet was filled with the unspoken, the space between you charged with possibilities. The weight of your shared silence felt like a cocoon, wrapping you both in a moment that was yours alone, away from the eyes and expectations of the world outside.

Finally, Jacaerys’ lips curved into a small, genuine smile, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "I should probably go," he said softly, though he made no move to leave. "There's a council meeting I'm meant to attend."

You nodded, understanding the weight of his responsibilities, even as a part of you wished he could stay. "Of course," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "Duty calls."

Jacaerys sighed, his eyes never leaving yours. "It always does," he murmured, a hint of resignation in his tone. But then his expression softened, and he added, "Though I find myself wishing it didn't, at least not when I'm with you."

The admission hung in the air between you, laden with unspoken meaning. You felt a flutter in your chest, a mix of excitement and nervousness at the implications of his words.

Vermax, who had been contentedly dozing beside you, stirred slightly. The dragon lifted his head, his golden eyes flickering between you and Jacaerys as if sensing the shift in mood.

"I think someone's getting jealous," you teased lightly, grateful for the momentary distraction from the intensity of the moment.

Jacaerys chuckled, reaching out to pat Vermax's snout. "He's not the only one who enjoys your company," he said, his voice low and tinged with meaning.

He stood slowly, reluctantly releasing your hand. As he did, his fingers trailed along your palm, a lingering touch that sent shivers down your spine.

"Perhaps," he began, a hint of hesitation in his voice, "we could continue this conversation another time? Away from prying eyes and dragon chaperones?"

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. "I'd like that," you replied softly.

Jacaerys' face lit up with a warmth that made your heart swell. He took a step back, his eyes still locked with yours. "Until then," he said, his voice filled with promise.

As he turned to leave, Vermax huffed, a small puff of smoke curling from his nostrils. The dragon's gaze followed his rider, then settled back on you, as if to say he'd be keeping watch.

You sat there for a moment longer, your hand still tingling from Jacaerys' touch, your mind replaying the conversation. The weight of what had transpired, of the words spoken and unspoken, settled over you like a warm blanket.

The days passed in a haze, the absence of Jacaerys more palpable than you had expected. His words, his touch, the warmth of his presence lingered with you, like a song you couldn’t quite shake from your thoughts. Every hour felt drawn out, the stillness of your chambers amplifying the emptiness that came with his absence.

You tried to busy yourself, distracting your mind with small tasks, but nothing seemed to quell the gnawing sensation that something was missing. Jacaerys’ parting words had left a subtle hum beneath your skin, a quiet longing that you couldn’t quite place, or maybe didn’t want to.

By the time night fell, the soft glow of the candlelight casting long shadows against the walls, you found yourself sitting by the window, your thoughts wandering back to him. You hadn’t expected to miss him this much. The bond you shared had grown in such a quiet, natural way, yet now that he was gone, the absence felt stark and undeniable.

The evening stretched on, and you were beginning to resign yourself to the solitude when a soft knock sounded at your door. Your heart leapt before you could even think.

Rising quickly, you crossed the room and pulled the door open, and there he was – Jacaerys, standing in the dim light of the corridor, a smile brighter than the candles behind him. His eyes sparkled, and there was an undeniable energy about him, a joy that radiated from his very being. 

"Jace," you breathed, a wave of relief washing over you. You hadn’t realized just how much you missed him until now, until he was standing here, looking at you with that familiar warmth in his eyes.

He stepped inside before you could say anything more, and the door closed softly behind him. There was an almost giddy excitement in his movements as he crossed the room toward you. 

His eyes were bright, his smile wide and unguarded in a way you'd rarely seen before. There was a lightness to his steps, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"I've missed you," he said softly, his voice filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm in a gentle, almost reverent touch.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his words and the intensity of his gaze. "I've missed you too," you admitted, surprised by how easily the truth slipped out. "You seem... happy."

Jacaerys' smile grew even wider, if that was possible. He took another step closer, closing the distance between you until you could feel the warmth of his breath. 

His fingers, resting against your arm, traced a soft, soothing pattern, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I am happy," he said, his voice low, filled with that same lightness. His eyes held yours, and for a brief moment, it felt like there was no one else in the world, just the two of you standing in the quiet intimacy of your chambers.

You felt your breath catch in your throat as Jacaerys took another small step closer, closing the already narrow gap between you. His hand slid gently down your arm, capturing your hand in his, his fingers lacing with yours as if they belonged there.

“I’ve been waiting all day to see you,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper, and there was something in his tone that tugged at your heart – something deeper, more meaningful, than just his words.

Your pulse quickened at his closeness, at the way his gaze never left yours. “It’s only been a few days, Jace,” you teased lightly, though the emotion in your voice betrayed the longing you had felt in his absence.

He chuckled softly, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand, a familiar, soothing gesture that now held an extra layer of intimacy. “A day can feel like an eternity when you’re away from someone important,” he murmured, his eyes softening with sincerity.

There was something about the way he looked at you tonight, something in his touch, in the subtle tension between you that felt different – heavier, more charged. As if the unspoken things that had lingered between you were finally on the verge of surfacing.

“What happened today?” you asked quietly, your curiosity growing stronger. He had been away all day, and yet here he was, practically glowing with happiness. It was as though something had shifted, and though you didn’t know what it was, you could sense the importance of it in every move he made.

Jacaerys hesitated for a moment, his smile faltering ever so slightly, as if he was carefully considering how to answer. His hand squeezed yours gently, reassuringly, before he spoke again. “I spoke to my mother,” he said, his voice holding a note of quiet significance.

You tilted your head, your brows furrowing in confusion. “About what?” you asked softly, though your heart was already beginning to race, sensing that whatever conversation he had with his mother had something to do with you.

He exhaled slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, though there was a flicker of nervousness in his eyes now.

Jacaerys took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. When he spoke, his voice was soft, filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache.

"Do you remember," he began, "when we were children? How I used to follow you around the castle, always trying to be wherever you were?"

You nodded, a fond smile tugging at your lips. "Of course. You were like my shadow."

He chuckled softly, his thumb still tracing gentle circles on your hand. "I was, wasn't I? Back then, I didn't understand why. I just knew that being near you made me happy. It was... instinctive, I suppose. The way love often is for children."

Your breath caught at the word 'love', but Jacaerys continued, his voice growing more earnest.

"As we grew older, I started to hear the whispers. The stories that would float through the halls, passed between servants and nobles alike. Tales of a connection so rare and profound that even dragons could sense it."

He paused, his eyes searching yours, as if gauging your reaction. "I never put much stock in those stories. They seemed like fairy tales, meant for songs and legends, not for real life. But then..."

Jacaerys' free hand came up to cup your cheek, his touch feather-light and reverent. "Then I realized that after all these years, I still feel the same way. That instinct to be near you, to seek out your company, to find joy in your presence – it never faded. If anything, it's only grown stronger."

Your heart was pounding now, each beat echoing in your ears. Jacaerys' words hung in the air between you, heavy with implication and unspoken emotion.

"Jace," you whispered, your voice barely audible. 

He smiled then, a soft, vulnerable expression that made him look younger, more open than you'd ever seen him. "I spoke to my mother today about something I've known in my heart for a long time. Something I think – I hope – you might feel too."

Jacaerys took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I asked her for permission to court you. Properly, openly, with the intention of... of marriage, if you'll have me."

The world seemed to still around you, narrowing down to just this moment, just the two of you standing in the soft candlelight of your chambers. Jacaerys' words echoed in your mind, each one carrying the weight of years of unspoken feelings, of a connection that had grown so gradually and yet so powerfully that it took your breath away.

"Jace," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're the prince, the future king. Surely there are political considerations, alliances to be made-"

He shook his head, cutting off your words with a gentle squeeze of your hand. "I don't care about politics or alliances," he said firmly. "Not when it comes to this. Not when it comes to us. I want to choose for myself, remember? And I choose you. I've always chosen you."

Your heart felt like it might burst from your chest, a mix of joy and disbelief coursing through you. "And your mother? What did she say?"

Jacaerys' smile widened, his eyes sparkling with barely contained happiness. "She said yes. She said she's known for years that this was where my heart lay. And she... she approves. Of you. Of us."

You felt tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the enormity of what Jacaerys was offering. A future together, open and acknowledged, no longer hidden in stolen moments and meaningful glances.

"I... I don't know what to say." you murmured, your free hand coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. 

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting gently against yours. "Say yes," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "Say you'll let me court you, that you'll consider a future with me. That's all I ask."

The joy that lit up Jacaerys' face was radiant, brighter than any dawn you'd ever seen. He pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace. You could feel his heart racing, matching the rhythm of your own.Your throat tightened, words catching somewhere deep inside as you stared into Jacaerys' eyes. His forehead pressed softly against yours, his breath warm and steady, while your heart raced uncontrollably. The truth of everything he had said wrapped around you, too much to process all at once. You had dreamed of this – of him – but you never imagined hearing it, feeling it, like this.

Your chest swelled with emotions too big to contain, the joy so sharp it almost hurt. A smile tugged at your lips, so wide it made your face ache, but you couldn’t stop it. You didn’t want to stop it.

Jacaerys was offering you everything. A future, his heart, and the freedom to choose him. His words echoed in your mind, soft but sure: I choose you.

You didn’t know what to say, didn’t trust yourself to speak without your voice cracking. All you could feel was the overwhelming happiness surging through you. He wanted this. He wanted you. The enormity of it all made you dizzy.

Without thinking, without planning, you moved – instinct, just like he said. Your hand tightened slightly on his chest, pulling him closer, your heart hammering as you closed the distance between you.

Jacaerys barely had time to react before your lips met his, soft and sudden, a rush of emotion driving the kiss. His breath hitched in surprise, but it only took a heartbeat for him to respond, his free hand sliding to the small of your back, gently drawing you closer.

His fingers pressed gently into your skin, grounding you both in the here and now, in the quiet certainty of what was happening between you. What started as a tender, soft press of lips quickly became more – a release of everything unsaid, everything that had simmered between you for so long. His mouth moved against yours with urgency, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other tightening its hold on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands, tugging slightly, and you felt Jacaerys’ breath hitch against your lips. His mouth parted, and without hesitation, you responded in kind, the kiss growing wetter, more breathy as his tongue slid against yours in a slow, tantalizing dance. The taste of him, warm and intoxicating, made your knees weak, but Jacaerys held you steady, his body pressed firmly against yours.

The room felt smaller now, the air charged with the heat between you. His touch was everywhere – his hands roving across your back, your sides, as if trying to memorize the shape of you. You gasped softly into the kiss as his fingers trailed down your spine, the sensation sending shivers through your body. 

Every breath was shared, every movement synchronizing as you poured every unspoken word, every hidden desire, into this moment. His lips, soft and insistent, claimed yours with a raw, palpable need, his tongue flicking gently against yours, teasing, exploring, drawing small, breathless sounds from you that only spurred him on.

The world outside ceased to exist, fading into nothingness as Jacaerys pressed you back against the nearest wall, his body solid and warm against yours. His kiss grew more passionate, his breath ragged as he angled his head, deepening the connection between you. The taste of him, mixed with the faint scent of salt and wind from the sea, enveloped your senses, making you dizzy with want.

You could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours as his lips parted further, the kiss becoming open, wetter, more desperate. He kissed you like a man who had waited years to do so – his lips, his tongue, exploring you with a reverence that made your pulse race, made your skin burn.

His hand slid down your side, lingering at your hip before pulling you flush against him, and the feel of his body pressed against yours made a low, breathy sigh escape your throat. You felt Jacaerys respond, a soft groan rumbling deep in his chest as his hand slipped beneath your tunic, his fingers skimming the bare skin at your waist. The touch was gentle, reverent, but it sent a fire through your veins.

He broke the kiss for only a moment, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air, breaths mingling in the heated space between you. His eyes, dark with desire, searched yours, and in that brief moment of silence, you saw everything – years of unspoken feelings, of longing, of love. 

Jacaerys' breath came in short, ragged bursts, his forehead still pressed against yours as he tried to steady himself. His fingers, warm and trembling, grazed the skin at your waist, the sensation grounding you both in this fragile, beautiful moment. 

When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, breathy, but filled with a raw honesty that made your heart clench. "I used to believe," he whispered, his lips brushing yours as he spoke, "that you were a gift... sent by the gods." His thumb traced a slow, reverent circle along your hip, his gaze searching your face like he was still in awe that you were here, with him. "Even when I was little, I thought... maybe they made you just for me. Maybe that's why... I could never stay away."

His words wrapped around your heart, tightening with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. Jacaerys had always been a steady presence, always at your side, but to hear it now – to hear that he'd felt this way, even as children – left you speechless. 

His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing lightly over your skin as he stared into your eyes. "I’ve wanted this for so long," he murmured, voice shaking with emotion. "Longer than I even understood."

His confession hung in the air between you, soft and fragile, yet so filled with meaning it made the weight of his feelings unmistakable. You could see it in his eyes – the years of unspoken longing, of a quiet yearning that had finally spilled over.  

As Jacaerys held you, his breath fanning over your lips, you became aware of the subtle scent clinging to him – the faint, calming fragrance of freshly picked lavender, mingling with the salty tang of the sea. It was an unexpected but gentle contrast, delicate yet grounding. The lavender must have been tucked in his pocket, its presence weaving into the natural scent of him, a gentle reminder of the day you told him it suited him.

Jacaerys’ thumb continued to trace slow circles against your cheek, his eyes still fixed on yours with a look so tender it made your heart ache. The lavender lingered, soft and sweet, mixing with the warmth of his body, the salt of the sea. It was intoxicating, wrapping around you like the feel of his arms, like the weight of his confession.

In the quiet of your chambers, with the soft glow of candles casting a warm light around you, you and Jacaerys held onto each other, savoring the start of something new, something that had been years in the making. And somewhere in the distance, as if sensing the shift in the very air around you, you could have sworn you heard the contented rumble of a dragon, approving of the love that had finally been acknowledged between its rider and the one who had stolen both their hearts.

taglist: @smurfelle @elliaze @sillylittlepenguin181818 @lustrz-anna @lovelyteenagebeard @misshale21 @cecestea @n4tsha @inspirationquxxn @rin588 @anoravx @bbubbllejisoo

gc lovelies tags: @benjinotes @earth4angels @xxselenite @eldrith @princessbellecerise @bryscorner @v3lary0ns @vee-mage @softspiderling @hxtd @divinesolas @cregnstark @bucksplum @cregan-starks

[beloveds-embrace]

tf 141 with a reader who loves jewelry >>

It’s not a particularly visible obsession; all your boys know is that they’ve never seen you without jewelry. Be it pretty, delicate earrings, a lovely necklace that rests in between your cleavage, or a gleaming set of rings and bracelets. They are eye-catching, on occasions, and other times they blend so nicely into whatever outfit you have adorned yourself with.

They don’t realize it, they don’t make the connection until you’ve invited them into your house, and then you are leading them deep, deep into the basement until they are in front of a closed room. The entire thing is suspicious, honestly alarming because Ghost did so much research into you but never knew anything about this- but you look so nervous and hopeful, emotions bared.

They aren’t prepared to enter a room stuffed full of jewelry. A room practically glittering, gleaming like you’ve brought yourself a corner of the starry universe. Rows upon rows, cabinets and closed glass cases. And then you are smiling, stepping into the room and urging them in.

“I… I’ve always loved jewelry,” you clear your throat, voice soft and hushed. You look around, an unmistakable look of fondness and happiness in your eyes. “Necklaces, earrings.. anything that can be put on the body to adorn it more than clothes could. Ever since I was a child, I was, well, obsessed with collecting them. I love collecting them, and every piece here is precious to me.”

Your cheeks turn pink, and you look away from their gazes. “…but you are more precious to me, and I trust all of you. Which is why I feel happy, showing this part of me to you. And…”

You grin now, opening a cabinet with a simple key you put away to pull out four jewelry boxes. “-And that is why I got these!”

You open the first box, showing John a beautiful necklace that holds a single garnet shaped into a delicate teardrop. Garnet, for his birthstone. John, John, John- a man who will always have your heart. John, who treats you like a jewel even more delicate than the one in your hands. You’ve never had anyone hold you quite as he does, so full of love.

The second box is for Soap, for your Johnny. A dangling pair of earrings that would brush across your skin should you wear them, almost as sweetly as his kisses across your body. A stormy blue, much like his eyes.

Third box is bigger- the biggest. This one, you had custom-made. Not cheap at all, but worth every single dollar. Made entirely out of diamonds, the shoulder pieces would drape so elegantly across your shoulders and dangle off your back, like a never-ending embrace. Your most expensive piece to this day, and yet you would so easily swear that it did not compare to Gaz’s beauty anyways. It was based on him, on how you looked at him, on the sheer love you felt for and from him.

The last piece is a necklace. It curls around your neck not like a collar, but like a hissy cat seeking warmth. Three rows of pearls, shiny and pretty, and in the middle sits a round red jasper. You don’t remember when it had been, but you’d read that red jasper meant courage, preseverance, and healing. Perfect for your brave, incredible Si, whom you’ll always admire and adore.

But in your enthusiasm of describing how and why you chose each piece, you are blind to the way they look at you:

In a room full of gems, jewels and stars, you shine the brightest to them.

[elumish]

My September 2024 election reminder: ideological purity will not win you anything.

I see people on the left saying that they can't possibly vote for Harris because she's too pro-Israel, because she's too far to the right on immigration, because she's too far to the right on criminal justice, because she was a cop (she wasn't), because you think this policy or that policy is too conservative.

Not voting for her only increases the chances that we get a president who is even further to the right.

Those are our two choices. Like it or not, support the American political system or not, we have two choices, and one of them is further to the right on every single policy that you have opinions about.

So if you think Harris is too far to the right on Israel/Gaza, remember: Trump is so much further to the right. You don't like that the Biden administration is providing military aid to Israel (a thing that Harris cannot actually stop even if she wanted to, given that she's not president)? Trump has already proven, on a policy level, to be more pro-Israel. Remember when he moved the U.S. Embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, functionally acknowledging Israeli sovereignty over Jerusalem? He is extremely pro-Israel and has materially proven it. Harris, on the other hand, has been calling for a cease fire since March and has recognized out loud the need for Palestinian sovereignty.

If you're wondering why she hasn't changed U.S. policy on Israel, I would like to remind you once again: she is not currently the President of the United States.

Holding on to your precious ideological purity and not voting for someone whose policies you find distasteful will not result in policies you like. It only increases the risk of policies that are so much further away from what you want.

Voting is public transportation. Voting is harm reduction. Voting is moving us a little bit closer towards the policies we want or, at the very least, keeping us from moving further and further away.

[monstersflashlight]

I know you said you don’t write pregnancy, but would you write about a yandere family dynamic? Like a yandere husband with wife reader, and their platonic yandere children they had together? Just some sweet family fluff and stuff?

Hi there! Sorry this took so long, it got lost between other requests. As I don't really like writting families anymore (you can find my fics in other fandoms around, used to love kid fics), I'm gonna do this like a headcanon, because I think that would be funny.

Yandere monster husband who makes you sit and watch as he does all the chores because you are pregnant. There's no way you are risking your precious body or his precious child by moving even a finger. He gets so mad when you try to do something that he ties you down to the bed and spends hours eating your pussy until you are crying out and asking for mercy. He doesn't stop until you are so tired and spent out you can't even fathom moving to do anything else.

Yandere monster husband who threatens your doctor when you are in the middle of labor because you are in so much pain. He growls and grunts at everyone approaching your squirming body as you scream and curse him for doing that to you. He shushes you, caressing your hair and holding your hand until he's the one asking for mercy because of how hard you are squeezing him. He doesn't let go, through. He promised he never would.

Yandere monster husband who is so obsessed over your soft body and milking boobs after birth that he can't stop staring at you. He looks at you constantly, doesn't even let you go to the bathroom alone. And when the baby is asleep, he takes his turn milking your sore boobs and eating your pussy, you did such a hard work, you deserve to be worshiped.

Yandere monster husband who you think he's gonna calm down after the first pregnancy, but the second one is the exact same. And the third one. And by the time you have three toddlers, he's so obsessed with them as he is with you. He threatened at least four parents because their kids made your kid cry. He threatened the principal of the school because they tried to say the scratches on your baby girl's arm were just an accident. So it doesn't surprise you when they forbid him into school perimeter, he has to wait in the car as you go and talk to the teachers. He grunts all the way, but you are secretly glad, he always makes people uncomfortable.

But you love it. You love how protective he is. How caring and obsessed with you and your children, how much he takes care of every single one of you. You are in love with him even if he's a bit... too much sometimes.