#i hope you enjoy ;000

[sunugf]

tagged by beloveds @28reas0ns @kimsuyeon thank you so very much 😽😽

sweet dreams by red velvet ; ever seen by beabadoobee ; useless by omar apollo ; unf/air by artms ; life's unfair by omar apollo ; getting no sleep by tinashe ; immaterial by sophie ; kingdom come by red velvet ; i'm unhappy by aespa ; supernova by aespa ; sympathy is a knife by charli xcx ; echo by clairo ; russian roulette by red velvet/the boyz

i love any tag games where i can involve my music taste so i was very happy to do this hihi!! tagging anyone who also wants to do this and happy listening <3

[goddessrisen]

@4heroes   summoned the goddess,

tired face and tired body; when have you last rested? you walk to her as you rub at sleepy eyes, a yawn forcing its way out. you drop to your knees in front of her and place your head on her lap, eyes closing as you relished in the warmth. you cling to her like a child.. and in some way you are that - a child, a lost kid who is holding on so desperately to the mother figure in his life. a little rest is okay if you're around, you think, because i know you'll protect me. (izuku :3c

         long   days   turned   to   even   longer   nights,   expectations   weighed   heavily   ‘pon   the   winged   hero.   patrols,   arrests,   and   even   saving   a   stars-damned   cat   from   a   tree.   yet,   ‘twas   all   worth   it,   for   this.   this   exhausted,   tender-hearted   creature   had   stolen   her   heart   before   she'd   even   realized.   relationships   of   any   kind   never   came   easily   to   her.   for   she   was   far   too   reticent   a   child,   too   serious       &&       aware   for   friends.   taloned   hands   tenderly   brushed   away   wayward   green   strands,   gently   scratching   against   scalp.   a   quiet,   heartfelt   coo   rumbled   within   her   chest   as   brilliant   wings   gently   encased   the   younger,   offering   comfort     &&       a   safe   place   to   rest.   silken   flesh   curled   into   a   soft   smile   as   izuku   finally   relaxed,   head   rested   atop   her   lap.   a   half-forgotten   melody   danced   its   way   out   of   her,   something   she   used   to   hum   to   herself   when   padded   walls       &&       stark   bedsheets   proved   to   be   too   much   for   a   child   to   be   able   to   relax.

unprompted ( kinda ) || accepting

[birdiewritessometimes]

You're too good to me - M. Riddle x Gryffindor! reader

A/N: Hii, this is my first Mattheo fan fic, i hope you enjoy it! I don't own any of the characters. English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes i might have made. I'm not that happy with the end but oh well!

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Gryffindor! reader

Themes/warnings: Fluff, slight angst, Harry and Ron being assholes hihi, slightly suggestive, cursing, one fight with the mention of blood

Word count: 14 000-ish (it's a long one)

Edit: I just edited some mistakes I noticed that i made language wise, oh and i gave it a title hihi <3

Please do not copy or translate my work!

Enjoy!

It was the last lesson before dinner, potions with the Slytherins. It was a gloomy day, the autumn weather making yet an appearance on this Monday afternoon in mid-October. The castle was cold, as it usually was this time of year, making you shiver. It didn’t help that you were in the dungeons, they were usually much colder than the rest of the castle. You pulled your Gryffindor robes tighter around you, as to shield yourself from the cold that was seeping out of the stones. You had taken your usual seat next to one of your friends, Hermione.

“Did you see that Harry and Mattheo Riddle got into a fight again?” She asked in a hushed voice. You shook your head no.

“What, why? Are they hurt?” You whispered back with a worried note in your voice.

“They didn’t fight fight, they argued really bad, just now! Before class.” Hermione explained as you shook your head. Although you’ve never really spoken to Mattheo before you didn’t understand their problem with one another. You couldn’t even remember what started it, but ever since first year they’ve been butting heads, getting into fights, taunting each other. Ron was no better, he would back Harry up whenever he would fight Mattheo, whether it was physical, or verbal didn’t matter. You and Hermione tried to stay out of it, neither of you had any opinion on the boy that was Mattheo Riddle, now Draco was a different story. He would take any opportunity to be mean to either of you, using it to get a rise out of Harry and Ron. Mattheo didn’t do that.

“Really? Do you know about what?” You replied to Hermione, she just had time to shake her head no before Snape walked in, effectively silencing everyone.

“Probably the usual.” Hermione whispered silently before turning to Snape to listen. The usual. The usual consisted of taunts such as ‘you suck Potter’ which was usually answered with ‘tell that to your pathetic family’ or ‘oh look an apprentice death eater’ which was most of the time answered with ‘at least I have a future cupboard boy’ if it wasn’t answered with fists. How Mattheo knew about the cupboard you had no idea.

“Today you will be divided into pairs to work on a particularly complicated potion.” Snapes voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He started to list the pairs in a bored sort of voice. Your attention piqued when you heard him call out your name.

“Miss l/n and Mr Riddle.” You looked around the classroom, trying to find him when you noticed that his eyes already were locked on you, an unreadable expression on his face. He sat in the back of the class, next to a boy you knew as Lorenzo Berkshire, you had worked with him before in arithmancy. You gave Mattheo a small, nervous smile before turning back to listen to Snapes instructions. If you were being honest, you were a bit nervous to work with him considering his dislike for your friends but when Snape finished talking, you walked up to him like he was any other student. You stretched your hand out to him and gave him a smile as you took a seat in the chair Lorenzo previously sat in.

“Hi, I’m y/n, looks like were partners for today.” You said as he shook your hand lazily.

“Yeah, whatever, just try to keep up” he said in a bored tone as he started to prepare the ingredients. You let out a rather, in your opinion, unattractive snort at his comment. He gave you a questioning look which made you realise that he didn’t listen to Snape in the beginning of the lesson.

“You know he paired us up based on how well we’ve been doing in class… so we should be at the same level.” You said with an amused expression on you face as you started to get your book and the rest of the ingredients.

“So, I think I’m going to keep up just fine.” You mocked his voice at ‘keep up’ and you don’t know where the confidence came from to tease him but when he let out a small huff and the smallest smile you’ve ever seen someone make you knew you were getting through his icy exterior.

“You think you’re funny huh?” He said, now adorning a smirk on his handsome face. You gave a small laugh at that.

“Oh, I know I’m funny, yeah, people tell me so all the time. Question is, can you keep up with me?” You joked as you started to stir the cauldron the specific number of stirs as he added ingredients. He let out a low chuckle at that before leaning in into your space. His cologne hit your nose from how close he was. He smelled like sandalwood, nicotine and mint. Why did he have to smell so good?

“We’re just getting started, love, let’s find out, yeah?” Did someone just turn up the heat? The coldness you felt moments ago was gone and replaced with the heat that radiated from his body. You felt a blush form on your cheeks from the pet name and his proximity. His smirk widened when he noticed your pink cheeks.

“Looks like I won’t have a problem keeping up after all, love.” He joked as he turned back to adding ingredients to the potion while you stirred. The lesson went by quicker than you thought, talking and joking with Mattheo. Turns out that he was, dare you say, sweet once he was given a chance, in his own Mattheo-esque way of course. He was also unbelievably flirty, it seemed like it was his personal mission to make you blush as much as he could. If he didn’t grip your hand to make you stir in a specific way, he would call you ‘love’ as much as he could. At the end of the lesson, you helped each other to tidy up your supplies, laughing about how Snape looked exactly like an overgrown bat when he swooped through the halls. You felt weirdly comfortable around him, like you’ve known him for ages and not just for an hour.

“Good job today, Mattheo, I had really fun with you and I’m glad we managed to get the potion right.” You said with a smile as you placed your hand on his arm.

“Thanks love, you did really well today, keeping me on my toes and all.” He said with a smirk at the blush that crept up on your cheeks. You were about to reply when Ron’s shouting interrupted you.

“Y/n, are you coming today or? I’m starving!” Mattheo rolled his eyes at Ron, you gave Mattheo an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, I’m coming! See you, Mattheo.” You said, still with that apologetic smile and then you went to Ron who was waiting by the door with Hermione and Harry, what you didn’t see was the glares the boys sent to each other.

“So, how was it to work with the evil spawn?” Ron asked nonchalantly as you were walking towards the great hall. You frowned at the nick name while Harry let out a laugh.

“I’ll let you know Ron, that Mattheo was really nice to work with.” You said emphasizing ‘Mattheo’. You didn’t like to be dragged into the conflicts Harry and Ron had with people. The only time you did meddle in the drama of this school was in second year when you punched Draco Malfoy on the nose for calling Hermione a mudblood. You didn’t take it well when people were mean for no reason.

“And I don’t like it when you call him that.” You said with a frown as your group rounded a corner, walking up a flight of stairs. Ron and Harry huffed at your defence of the Slytherin boy.

“Oh, you can’t be serious, he’s evil incarnated y/n! He is literally you know whose son, it’s in his blood.” Ron rolled his eyes as Harry nodded in agreement. Hermione huffed in annoyance at the argument that was taking place.

“Just because he is related to you know who doesn’t make him a bad person either! Really Ron, judging people based on blood sounds a tad bit familiar, doesn’t it?” You said, a growing frustration in your voice as you crossed your arms in annoyance at the boy.

“Oh, you’re only saying that because you think he is hot, like all the other girls in this place! You be careful y/n, he will use you if you let him get too close.” Harry added.

“Yeah, he’s only nice to you because he wants to get in your pants!” Ron let out, gesturing wildly with his hands, his own frustrations clearly showing.

“Oh really? Yes, because being partners in potions will definitely lead to sex, as a matter of fact, we’ve already fucked! Ron, did you not see us fucking on the table in potions earlier? I’m sure you saw it Harry, you were right behind us! Oh, wait, that didn’t happen because we were doing the assignment, not each other!” You snapped, letting out your frustrations as the doors to the great hall neared. What you didn’t know was that Mattheo and his friends were walking well within hearing distance from your group, intently listening to the fight you were having with your friends.

“He will weasel his way into your bed, he’s not nice, he is manipulative and you’re falling for it!” Ron accused you as you were now making your way towards Ginny at the Gryffindor table.

“Ron! Insinuating that I will sleep with anyone that is nice to me is really hurtful!” You said, feeling hurt by his words.

“Hey, can we please not fight?” Hermione pleaded as she took a seat next to you and Ginny, who looked confused.

“What are you fighting about?” Ginny asked curiously. Fights amongst your group wasn’t that common, small squabbles, sure, but fights as ugly as this one was becoming had only happened about once or twice in all your years of friendship.

“Ron and Harry being pricks.” You said.

“Evil incarnated” Ron said at the exact same time. Hermione sighed. Ginny let out a chuckle. Harry scoffed.

“What did you do?” She asked, making Ron let out a displeased grunt and Harry an annoyed groan.

“He basically said that the only reason I was defending Mattheo, whom I worked with in potions today, was because I think he is hot” You pointed an accusing finger at Harry.

“And he” You pointed at Ron now “accused me of spreading my legs for anyone that’s nice to me. All because I asked Ronald not to call Mattheo evil spawn, because he was nice to me.” You said, frustration evident in your voice. Ginny gasped.

“It’s true, he’s not a good person y/n! He’s a Riddle!” Ron argued, this time Harry chimed in agreement. You felt tears of frustration pool your eyes.

“I swear if that is your only evidence that he isn’t a good person I’m going hex you. You have no right saying that he isn’t a good person when you don’t know him. What, you base your brilliant deduction from the fact that he fights you, just as you fight him? And you definitely have no right telling me that the only reason I’m defending him is because I find him ‘hot’ and will let him in my bed because he is nice to me, what is wrong with you?!” You burst out. Tears slowly rolling down your cheeks, you hated that you cried when you were angry.

“And you!” You turned to Hermione, hurt that she didn’t at least attempt to back you up.

“Thank you so much for having my back…” You said sarcastically before raising from your seat and storming off. You walked to your dorm, making a beeline for the kitchens to get something to snack on, since you had left dinner before actually eating something. When you got to your dorm you threw your bag on the bed in frustration and changed into some pyjamas. You dried your tears as you put on a long-sleeved shirt and some flannel pyjama pants. Grabbing the snacks you went into the common room again; it was fairly empty since it still was dinnertime. Not feeling like hanging around there you went through the portrait hole and started to make your way towards the astronomy tower. Some air might do you some good. When you finally made it there you sat down and watched the stars as you snacked. You weren’t sure how much time had passed as you sat there thinking about the fight with your friends when you heard voices coming from the entrance of the tower. When you turned around you saw that the voices belonged to the very boy you were fighting about, and his three friends: Theodore Nott, Lorenzo Berkshire and Blaise Zabini. You stared at each other for a moment.

“Princess, what are you doing here?” It was Mattheo who broke the silence.

“Princess?” You, Theodore, Lorenzo and Blaise all questioned at the same time. Mattheo shrugged nonchalantly and sauntered up to where you were sitting on the floor.

“You mind if we join you, darling?” He gestured to the space next to you, you nodded for him to join you, and he sat down next to you, his friends still standing by the entrance in shock of how their friend is behaving.

“You’re trying out different pet names?” you asked with a small smile, he bumped your shoulder with his as he took out a pack of cigarettes, wordlessly offering you one. You declined with a small shake of your head.

“Just trying to figure out which ones makes you get that adorable blush the most.” He said with a cheeky smile as he put the cigarette between his lips.

“Oi, are you dickheads going to stand there all night like fools or are you coming?” He asked over his shoulder to his friends, who all sprang into action. They sat down so that you were sitting in a circle of sorts.

“Princess, dickheads, dickheads, princess.” Mattheo introduced you to his friends, cigarette dangling dangerously from his lips, you let out a snort at that.

“Oh wow, thank you for that extremely informative introduction, Mattheo.” You said sarcastically with an eye roll and then introduced yourself to the two boys you hadn’t met before. He just gave you a cheeky wink and lit his cigarette. The boys started chatting about random stuff as they smoked, you opted to listen rather than speak. You were in a particularly deep thought about the fight with your friends when a hand waved in front of your eyes.

“Huh? Sorry! What did you say?” You asked Theo who had asked you a question.

“I was just asking how it was to work with this idiot in potions today?” He asked again, a small laugh escaped you at his question.

“It was fun, except from that he was so moody in the beginning. ‘Yeah, whatever, just try to keep up’” You mocked him again, making you voice deeper to sound like him, he groaned at your teasing and his friends chuckled.

“Hey, in my defence I thought you were going to be real snarky and mean since you’re friends with Potter and Weasley.” He said with his hands up, half smoked cigarette hanging from his fingers. You frowned at the mention of your friends, the hurt from the fight still raw.

“Yeah, I get that. For the record, I don’t take part in their beefs with people in this school. Well, I did one time, but I don’t like it.” You said shaking your head, Mattheo smiled at you.

“Well, you got me curious now, when did you take part in that sort of drama?” Enzo asked as he looked at you expectantly. You blushed hard at this.

“Oh, I don’t really talk about it.” You mumbled, embarrassed at what you did in second year.

“Oh, please y/n, please tell us.” The boys pleaded with you.

“Okay, fine, ipunchedmalfoyforcallinghermioneabadthing” you said it all in one breath.

“What?”

“Huh?”

“Slower.”

“I punched Malfoy for calling Hermione a bad thing… in second year. I didn’t want to tell you since he’s your friend.” You said, much slower this time. It was quiet for a moment before the guys burst out laughing.

“Omg, that was you?? In second year yeah? Oh my days! He told us it was a guy; you gave him a nosebleed!!” Blaise barked out as he was clutching his stomach.

“Don’t worry darling, we’re not that close with him anyways.” Mattheo assured you between laughter, bumping your shoulder with his again, to which you gave him a grateful smile.

“He said it was a guy who punched him?” You wondered, a small laugh escaping you.

“Yes, he did, he even bragged about him beating the guy up worse.” Enzo added, wheezing as he dried the tears that escaped his eyes.

“What? Nooo he ran away crying.” You said now giggling along with the guys, who got into another laughing fit at that piece of new information.

“Whooo, get yourself a girl who can pack punches,” Theo said, making you blush.

“Well, I defend my friends.” You shrugged, a smile on your lips.

“I’ve been meaning to thank you for that by the way.” Mattheo said after the laughter calmed down, the guys humming in understanding. You, however, were confused.

“What for punching Malfoy?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed. Mattheo let out a chuckle at your confusion.

“No, for defending me when your friends talked shit, after potions.” He said, a small smile on his handsome face. You felt the blush come back.

“You heard that?” You squeaked, hands coming up to cover your cheeks, the group let out a chuckle. Memories about you saying that you fucked on a table flooded your brain as embarrassment hit.

“Yeah, we were, uh, right behind you sweetheart.” Mattheo said with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. You were hiding your face in your hands now, only peeking through your fingers.

“Omg, kill me now!” You muttered, feeling completely mortified.

“I must say, my favourite part was definitely the ‘fucking on the table’ part, it really got your point across.” He said and the group laughed at that.

“We were doing the assignment, not each other.” He mocked you, adding to your embarrassment. The rest of the boys laughed at this too.

“Oh shut up!” You squeaked again, still feeling very embarrassed by your choice of words.

“No, but seriously, thank you for defending me, I hope you didn’t fight too bad with your friends.” He said, scratching the back of his neck. His friends, who had calmed down form their laughing fit, were watching your interaction with curiosity.

“Yeah, of course. Please don’t worry about my idiot friends.” You said, glancing down at your slipper clad feet as you rubbed your arms, feeling the cool night air seep through your shirt.

“I can’t help but feel a little responsible…” Mattheo trailed of as he took his hoodie of and draped it around your shoulders, you gave him a small smile as a thanks. His friends looked at each other with surprise at Mattheos behaviour. He was known to be quite the flirt, using girls and then going to the next one. Never had they seen him give his sweaters to any girl, or come to second thought, interact with a girl like he was with you.

“You did nothing wrong Mattheo, Ron was out of line, he said some nasty things, Harry too and Hermione didn’t do anything so…” You said as you shrugged on his hoodie properly, the garment wrapping you in a blanket of warmth and his scent.

“What did he say, if you don’t mind me asking? I skipped potions today” Theo asked cautiously, you gave him a sad smile. Secretly grateful for the fact that his friends didn’t gossip about what had happened.

“So, Ron called Mattheo a bad name, I asked him not to call him that, then Harry basically said that the only reason I was defending him was because I thought that he was hot, and Ron insinuated that I would sleep with anyone that was nice to me. That really hurt my feelings and the fact that they doubled down on that when Ginny asked what was going on hurt even more.” It was quiet when you finished, Theo looked shocked to say the least, the rest of the boys looked angry, having heard the argument in real life.

“Potter and Weasley really said that? To their friend?” Theo then asked in disbelief as you nodded in confirmation.

“Well, they’re prats, but we already knew that.” He then said, making you laugh at how bizarre the whole situation is. Here you were hanging out with the group how almost caused as much trouble as the twins, you were hanging out with the very boy you had defended hours before. It’s funny, because you weren’t known to be a troublemaker, you opted to put your energy into studying, achieving great grades instead. You couldn’t be more opposite these boys, yet here you were, enjoying the time you’re spending with them.

“They’re not even prats, they’re like proper twats.” You laughed, making the others laugh with you this time.

“You know y/n, you’re pretty cool, for being a Gryffindor and all.” Blaise said with a teasing smile.

“Oh, thank you, you guys are really sweet, for being Slytherins that is.” You teased right back.

“Sweet? Sweet?? What are we? Six years old?” Mattheo said, incredulously, the others nodded along with his teasing.

“Yes, you guys are the sweetest bad boys I’ve ever met.” You said, pinching his cheek in a teasing manner. They all jokingly groaned at that. Then you fell into an easy conversation with the group, the boys successfully cheered you up by taking your mind of the fight. They made you feel welcome in their little group, despise you being in a different house than them, you understood that even if you didn’t care about houses others did. You were well aware of their reputation in the school. They were troublemakers, didn’t follow rules, fought whoever ticked them off. People were wary of them, not wanting to get on their bad side and the people who weren’t wary of them disliked them. Your friends were a part of that second group of people. The group of Slytherin boys were also knows to be quite the flirts, being successful with a majority of the girls in school. Your train of thought were cut short when you realised the time.

“Oh, guys we need to get to bed, we have classes in the morning!” You exclaimed, rising to your feet in a hurry. The rest of the group rose lazily, some putting out their cigarettes before casually strolling down the stairs. You were however feeling a bit stressed due to the time and the fact that you were out of bed after curfew, but the boys were as cool as ever. When it came to where you were supposed to part ways to get to your respective common rooms you all hesitated for a moment. Just as you were about to say something Mattheo spoke.

“I’ll walk you to your common room, love.” He said in a low voice, making your eyes widen, so did the rest of the groups. Before you could reply, or even say goodnight to the rest Mattheo put his hand on the small of your back and started to guide you towards the portrait hole. His hand was warm and heavy against the small of your back, only the thick fabric of your his sweater acting as a barrier between the two of you. His hand hung low on your back, it was borderline inappropriate, and you felt your cheeks heat up because of it. You were almost disappointed when the fat lady came into view, shaking the feeling away you turned to him when you reached the top of the stairs.

“Thank you for cheering me up tonight, Mattheo.” You murmured and gave him a small smile; he smiled right back at you. You began to take his hoodie off, to give it back to him when he stopped you by grabbing your wrists. His large hands engulfing your smaller ones.

“Keep it princess.” He murmured and you felt your cheeks warm for what must be the 458th time this evening. You don’t know what came over you, was it his warm hands holding yours? Or was it the low, intimate lighting and the fact that it was in the middle of the night? You don’t know. What you did know was that fact that you rose to the very tips of your toes, your cheeks flushing even harder from what you were about to do and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. His hands were still holding yours as you felt them tense a little. You muttered a soft ‘good night’ into his ear before slipping out of his grip and going through the portrait hole. The small butterflies that resided in your stomach erupted into a storm when the portrait swung closed. You made your way towards your dorm, the common room was completely empty, not unusual considering the time. You snuck into your bed, still feeling giddy, and laid there as you thought about the boy who was Mattheo Riddle. What you didn’t know was that he was thinking about you as he walked back to his common room in the middle of the night.

The next morning you awoke to an empty dorm, you assumed Hermione had left for breakfast with Harry and Ron. You got dressed and headed down towards the great hall for breakfast. When you entered you saw the trio already sitting there eating their breakfast, your usual seat beside Harry was empty. You opted to sit with Ginny and the twins, not feeling like talking to your friends. When you sat down you made eye contact with Theo from across the hall. You gave him a smile and a small wave to which he nodded back at you, with a small smile on his face. He was sitting with his friends; Mattheo was missing from the group however. Before you could even begin to wonder where he was Ginny interrupted you.

“Since when do you know Theodore Nott?” She leaned over with a glint in her eye, having noticed the interaction. You gave her a startled laugh.

“Well, I sort of ran into him his friends yesterday after dinner.” You said with a small smile on your lips. Your cheeks turned the slightest pink as thoughts of Mattheo entered your head.

“So that’s what you were doing?” Fred asked, amusement clear in his voice.

“We missed you in the common room last night.” George mused.

“Oh please, you guys just wanted a new test subject for your new products.” You said with an eyeroll before taking a bite out of your toast.

“Of course not y/n! We wanted to hang out with our favourite goody two shoes.” Fred said, throwing his arm around your shoulders with a smirk on his face. You let out a snort at that.

“But seriously, we want to know everything.” George said, curiosity getting the better of him.

“When you met.” Fred continued.

“How you met.” George said.

“What you did.” Ginny added at the end.

“You guys are the biggest gossips I know.” You said in feigned annoyance with a smile before telling them about how you went to the astronomy tower to think. How they showed up to what was apparently their usual spot for smoking. How you had met Mattheo just hours before in potions. You told them how they cheered you up from the fight with your friends who sat just a couple of seats away. The twins had heard about the fight from Ginny and when you gave them a small recap, they assured you that they gave Ron a piece of their mind. They even said that Ron was blacklisted from Weasley’s Wizards Wheezes, making you smile at the fact that they had your back. You told them that you were up until late after curfew due to how much fun you were having. You didn’t however tell them about how Mattheo gave you butterflies or how you kissed his cheek when he had walked you to the common room.

“What?” George said in disbelief.

“You’re telling me that they got you to stay out until after curfew? You? Little goody two shoes y/n? Never broken a school rule before. This is something else! I recon we should thank these guys, George!” Fred said, not believing his ears. You let out a laugh at this.

“You guys act like I’m some nun! Anyways, I got to get to class.” You said as you got your things and rose to your feet. Fred and George let out comically large sighs at this, making Ginny giggle.

“Doesn’t seem like they made her relaxed enough to not be five minutes early to every class.” Fred groaned.

“You can’t win them all.” George added dramatically. You rolled your eyes with a smile and then with a wave goodbye started to make your way towards your first class of the day. You were glad that the twins and Ginny at least didn’t seem to have a problem with your new friends. The classes dragged on and on until lunch, you were too preoccupied with thinking about your new friends, how nice they were to you. When finally, your last lesson before lunch ended, you quickly packed up your things and made your way out of the classroom. When you exited the classroom, you bumped into Enzo who was exiting the classroom right besides yours.

“Oh, hi y/n, heading to the great hall?” He asked with a smile, silently gesturing for you to join him.

“Hi Enzo, yeah just finished ancient runes, what about you?” You asked, falling into step with him.

“Yeah, I just had history of magic.” He answered. The two of you fell into an easy conversation about school and the classes you were talking as you made your way towards the great hall. As you walked and talked with Enzo you noticed that people were looking warily at you, well more at the boy you were walking with. You noticed some glares and some apprehensive looks. Enzo seemed unbothered by the looks, completely consumed by his rant about how divination is a load of crap.

“Hey, Enzo, can I ask you a question?” You had interrupted him before you could stop yourself. He nodded, looking curious to your shift in demeanour.

“How come you guys are so nice to me?” You voiced a thought that had drifted in your head during the morning.

“What do you mean?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I mean, considering who my friends are, it would be easy to not like me either.” You said, a small frown making its way to your lips. Enzo gave a small smile at that.

“Yeah, but you have always been nice, well of course except to Malfoy but who cares, don’t you remember when we worked together in arithmancy in third year and instead of laughing at me for not understanding, like some would’ve done, you helped me instead?” Enzo explained as you rounded a corner.

“It was the same with Matt, you were kind to him despite his reputation and his family, you even stood up for him when you barley knew him. That is why I, at least, like you.” He said with a smile on his lips. You looked at him shocked, you did remember when you had worked with Enzo, he had a problem with understanding certain things, but that’s not something to laugh about is it? Just as you were about to open your mouth Mattheo and Theo joined you.

“Hey, what are you guys talking about?” Theo asked casually throwing an arm over your shoulders, his other over Enzos. Mattheo walked on the other side of you. You snapped out of your trance at this and directed a chuckle at the boys antics.

“Nothing really, I just met y/n after history of magic.” Enzo shrugged as he gave you a small smile that told you that your conversation would stay with him, you gave him a smile back.

“Oh, so you weren’t talking about how someone couldn’t keep their hands to themselves yesterday then?” Mattheo said in a sing song voice, obviously his question hinted at the kiss you had given him outside of your common room. You gripped his arm and gave him a warning squeeze to not say anything, but he just gave you a teasing smirk.

“Why would we talk about you obviously not keeping your hands to yourself?” Enzo deadpanned; Theo let out a laugh at that.

“Princess, you don’t have to leave.”

“Here darling, take my hoodie.”

“You’re so pretty under the stars, love.” The boys mocked their friend who let out a dramatic gasp. You laughed as you felt your blush rise on your face.

“I did not say that!” Mattheo let out in disbelief.

“You so did!” Enzo countered.

“No, I was obviously talking about y/n not being able to keep her hands of me, she even kissed me!” Mattheo let out in light frustration, waving his arms around. The boys paused right in front of the doors to the great hall. It was quiet for a moment before they let out a laugh so loud it drew the attention of all the people in the great hall as they entered.

“Yeah, right!” Theo said.

“Like that happened.” Enzo continued and Mattheo sputtered in shock that his friends didn’t believe him, when he looked at you, he saw that you giggled at this.

“Oh, you think this is funny? Now be a good girl and tell them the truth.” Mattheo said with a smirk as he grabbed your face to make you look him directly in the eyes, your blush making yet an appearance. Theos arm fell of your shoulders as you stared into Mattheos deep brown eyes. His presence invaded your senses, his smell, his warmth. His eyes were soft, but his smirk was prominent on his face. Your expression spoke for itself, and the boys let out sounds of disbelief when they realised that you did actually kiss him.

“What?”

“No way?”

“With his fugly mug?” You let out a laugh at Theos comment before you broke the eye contact with Mattheo and effectively breaking the trance he had put you in.

“On the cheek, I kissed him goodnight on the cheek, gosh you guys are so dramatic!” You corrected with a smile was on your lips. They spluttered as they tried to disagree with your statement. You laughed as you turned to walk towards the Gryffindor table, not before you gave the boys a cheesy smile and a wave goodbye. When you sat down beside Ginny and opposite the twins the group was awfully quiet. When you looked up from your plate you saw that the three of them looked at you with knowing smirks plastered on their faces.

“What?” you asked, your voice squeaking from the attention.

“Don’t you ‘what’ us! What was that all about?” George asked curiously. You gave a small laugh to try to cover up your embarrassment.

“I was just walking to lunch, with Mattheo, Enzo and Theo.” You said with a shrug as you took a bite of your lunch, feigning innocence.

“Not that! The whole almost kissing Riddle thing!” Fred said teasingly. You hadn’t realised that the whole school had seen when Mattheo had grabbed your face, and you certainly hadn’t realised that it looked like he was about to kiss you.

“We were not about to kiss!” You said incredulously. The three of them exchanged knowing glances before continuing to tease you about Mattheo.

It had been three days since that one incident in the great hall, it was now Friday and you were doing some studying in the library, or well, trying to since you ran into Mattheo on the way there. He insisted on joining your study session, what you didn’t know at the time was that it was to bother you while you studied.

“What about this one?” He asked as he held up a tube of lip gloss from your makeup bag. You had opened it to get some lip balm, and it had piqued the Slytherins interest, make up was probably more interesting than the essay he had to write for defence against the dark arts.

“That is lip gloss Mattheo, it makes your lips shine.” You said as you tried to concentrate on the book of ancient runes in front of you. You heard that he put the product back in your little bag and then you felt his presence closer to you. You turned to him to find him staring right back at you. Those butterflies erupted in your stomach again as they did so often when you were with Mattheo. He was staring at you intently, his soft brown eyes traced the outline of your face, your eyes, your nose, your lips, back to your eyes.

“You know you’re beautiful without it right?” He muttered as his eyes continued to trace your face. You didn’t register what he was saying as you were watching him too, your eyes mapping his face, where his scar crossed his eyebrow. The tiny scar on the bridge of his nose, before you knew it you had reached out, your fingers softly tracing the scar across his eye. Mattheo was still staring at you with those Bambi-eyes of his.

“Where did you get this?” You whispered, your fingers still tracing the scar on his face. His eyes never left yours as his hand moved up to his face to cover yours, giving it a soft squeeze. Your palm was flat against his cheek now, feeling his warm skin, while his large hand was covering yours.

“It’s nothing.” He murmured, closing his eyes. The intimate moment made you feel like you were going to explode. He was so close, so intoxicating, his warmth was like an embrace, his scent of mint, nicotine and sandalwood had become familiar, but no less addicting. When he opened his eyes he looked right at you, his gaze soft and gentle. The moment between you were interrupted by footsteps that was coming your way. He let go of your hand which you let fall to your lap. You both then turned back to your respective work, Mattheo actually doing the work this time. It was Hermione who rounded the corner to your table.

“Do you mind if I sit?” She asked carefully, you gave a wary smile and gestured for her to sit. You cast a sideways glance at Mattheo and saw that he wore a stoic look on his face, his eyes trained on Hermione.

“I’m really sorry that I didn’t defend you y/n, I really am!” Hermione let out when she had sat down, and you felt like some of the weight that had been on your shoulders lifted. You gave a smile before reaching over the table to give your friend a hug.

“Thank you, you have no idea how much that means to me!” You said as you sat back down in your chair.

“Besides, I’ve really missed you.” You said as you smiled at each other.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Hermione meet Mattheo, Mattheo, Hermione.” You introduced them and they nodded at each other, a bit awkwardly. Mattheos face did soften a bit at Hermione’s apology. After dinner you and Hermione hung out in your shared dorm, Ginny had joined you after a while. The hot topic that was being discussed was your newfound friendship with the Slytherin boys. Ginny was happily filling Hermione in on the details about a certain boy that you conveniently left out.

“They did sit rather close to each other in the library earlier…” Hermione thought out loud, Ginny let out a squeal at this piece of new information.

“Oh! Hermione I didn’t tell you about how he was about to kiss her in the great hall!” Ginny said excitedly. You spluttered at that.

“He did not try to kiss me, Ginny! You can’t just say that!” You said your voice high pitched with embarrassment.

“What did he do then y/n?” Hermione asked an amused smirk playing on her lips, Ginny was practically bouncing on your bed with excitement as she explained the moment between the two of you.

“It was nothing!” You said shyly.

“It was totally something!!” Ginny exclaimed excitedly.

“It did sound like something y/n! Come on you can at least admit that you think he’s cute.” Hermione said teasingly, you kept quiet for a moment, deliberating whether you should answer or not. You did think that Mattheo was cute, of course you did. He is stunning, curly hair, dark brown eyes, charming smile, those butterflies erupted in your stomach again.

“Okay, fine, yes he is cute.” You let out in defeat and the girls let out squeals of excitement.

“I knew it!” Ginny let out in triumph as you and Hermione laughed at her but before either of you could reply a knock could be heard at the door. Still chuckling from the previous conversation, you hopped of your bed and went to open the door. Outside of your dorm was a shy first year. Taken aback by the little boy you stuck your head out of your door to look around.

“Can I, uh help you?” You asked curiously while looking at the boy who was too shy to meet your eyes. He quickly thrusted a note in your hands before taking of, running away. You held on to the note, utterly confused as you closed your door and turned back to your friends.

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t know, a note.” You replied as you showed them the note.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Read it!” Ginny urged. You unfolded the note and sat down on your bed again, Ginny and Hermione coming closer to read it over your shoulder.

“Evening darling,

I was hoping you would get your little butt out of your dorm and join us for a smoke in the astronomy tower (I know you don’t smoke but I would love some company since I can feel myself loosing IQ-points from hanging out with the guys for too long). I’m waiting for you outside of the portrait.

- M.R.

P.S. get a sweater, it’s cold out”

Ginny and Hermione squealed in excitement as they shook your shoulders.

“Oh, you have to go y/n!!!” Ginny said excitedly.

“Yes, have fun on your dateeee!” Hermione said in a sing song voice as she threw Mattheos sweater in your face.

“It’s not a date, the others will probably be there too.” You defended as you subconsciously slipped on his sweater and put on your slippers. The girls practically pushed you out of your dorm, giggling like mad men as they closed the door behind you. With a smile and shake of your head you started to head towards the exit of the common room. When you exited the portrait, you paused at the scene in front of you. Harry and Ron had Mattheo cornered, the latter looking more agitated by the second.

“I don’t care, Riddle” Harry spat his name “you’re outside my common room, so I believe it is my business.”

“And I don’t care that it’s your common room, it’s none of your business, Potter” Mattheo spat back. He was a good deal taller than Harry, just a couple of centimetres above Ron. He was staring down on them, with a glare so intense it sent shivers down your spine. This was the Mattheo the rest of the school saw, cold, irritated, bad-tempered Mattheo, not the nice, caring boy you saw.

“If you think you’re here to see y/n you have another thing coming.” Ron gritted out through clenched teeth. Harry nodded in agreement and Mattheo clenched his jaw in annoyance. You noticed the shift in the air as Ron said this. Mattheo looked almost angry now, not wanting the situation to escalate you let your presence be known.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You spoke as you walked around them and placed yourself in front of Mattheo, reaching your hand back to grab his, in what you thought would be a comforting manner. Harry and Ron looked shocked at what you said.

“Wait, y/n you’re taking his side again?” Harry said with a scoff.

“Well, was he doing anything wrong when you got here?” You asked annoyed with their behaviour, it was Ron who scoffed this time. Remembering his thoughts as to why you defended Mattheo the last time you spoke you whirled on him.

“You got something to say, Ron?” You asked, your own irritation bubbling up to the surface. You could feel a grounding squeeze on your hand by Mattheo. You gave him a thankful look.

“Yeah, as a matter of fact I do! It’s clear why you’re defending him, he has clearly gotten in your pants! He’s playing with you, he is using you y/n, how can you be so stupid not to see that?” Ron let out his frustration. It felt like time stopped. It felt like your heart shattered when you heard Ron, your friend since first year, utter those words. You felt tears well up in your eyes.

“Ron, you’re so out of line.” You said through your tears, and you felt Mattheo move to stand beside you, his hand moving from yours to your back, rubbing comforting circles there to soothe you. He was giving Ron an icy glare as he comforted you as your tears now flowed freely.

“You better watch your mouth, Weasley.” He said, his tone cold.

“Hey, don’t threaten him!” Harry said, taking his friends side, Mattheo let out a cold, slow laugh at Harrys reaction.

“Oh, that’s really something, Potter. I knew you were a git, but I thought that you treated your friends better than this. You should be glad that y/n is here, otherwise I would beat the shit out of you two for saying shit like this.” Mattheo said angrily before taking you had in his and leading you away from them. Tears were streaming down your face at your friends words, you could hear that Harry and Ron were saying something behind you, but you couldn’t hear what, your ears were ringing. When you rounded a corner Mattheo stopped you. He pulled you into an embrace and ran his hand up and down you back in a comforting manner as you cried into his chest. Slowly the tears came to a stop and you peaked up at him, he gave you a worried look.

“I’m sorry” You mumbled, feeling embarrassed for crying on him, he gave you a small smile

“You, my love, have nothing to be sorry for. Now for Weasley and Potter it’s a different story.” You could see how his face went cold when he talked about them and you could feel how his grip on your waist tightened. He then did something that shocked you, he placed a kiss on your forehead. For him it seemed like it was the most natural thing in the world as he pulled you into his arms again, but it made your brain short-circuit. You could feel how he rested his head atop of yours as he held you. You let yourself relax in his arms for a moment before slightly pulling away again and looking up at him.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, his eyes soft again, as he brought his hand up to your face to wipe away the last remaining tears there.

“I’ve been better?” It came out more as a question as you were more focused on his large, warm palm on your face. He gave you a small smile and a chuckle slipped out from his lips.

“We don’t have to hang out with the others if you don’t want to…” He said tenderly as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You shook your head, giving the boy a small smile.

“No, I think some cheering up could do me good.” You said. You were still heartbroken from Rons words. That’s the thing with Ron, he will find the most hurtful things to say when he is mad at someone.

“Alright then, but if you want to go you let me know, okay?” He said, grabbing your face with both of his hands searching your face for any uncertainty. You gave a small smile and nodded. With a short nod himself he grabbed your hand as you started walking towards the astronomy tower. His hand in yours was grounding and comforting as he intertwined your fingers, his thumb stroking your knuckles. The walk was silent, you could see how Mattheos jaw clenched and unclenched as you walked, presumably thinking about what had just happened. You had never seen him angry up close before but when he was staring Harry and Ron down you had to admit that he looked scary. He had the same look now as you walked together and while you weren’t scared of him you could see why people where. You would probably fear him too if it weren’t for the way he was holding your hand. When you reached the top of the stairs in the astronomy he didn’t let go, the group of boys quieted down when they heard your footsteps.

“Look who finally stopped making out in a broom closet and decided to joi-” It was Theo who spoke first but stopped himself when he saw your faces, yours with streaks of tears and Mattheos looking like he could kill someone. “What happened?” He then asked seriously, and Mattheo moved to sit down, brining you with him, making you sit down so close to him that your legs touched. He didn’t once make a move to let go of your hand, the feeling was probably as grounding for him as it was to you. He had it in his lap now, playing with the rings on your fingers as he frowned at Theos question. Balise and Enzo both looked at you worriedly and you decided to speak.

“We ran into Harry and Ron.” You said your voice hoarse from the crying. You felt his grip on your hand tighten before he looked up.

“I was waiting for her outside the common room. Those two twats decided to corner me and then y/n came and Weasley” He spat out the name “said some really foul things to her.” His grip was firm now and you gave him a reassuring squeeze that made him look at you and his face softened as his eyes met yours.

“They’re dead.” Blaise said coldly, Enzo and Theo nodded slowly in agreement. You felt the cold queasy feeling of anxiety creep up from the pit of your stomach.

“Guys, please don’t fight them because of me, please.” You said, panic evident in your voice, the thought making you sick. You didn’t want any of your friends to be hurt, neither your new ones or your old ones. Because despite that you’re fighting you still consider Harry and Ron your friends, maybe not as close as before, but still friends. You felt Mattheo pull you to him so that you were sitting in between his legs, his arms wrapping protectively around you as he soothed you. His scent of nicotine, mint and sandalwood enveloped you like a hug.

“Don’t worry love, we won’t fight anyone if that’s what you want.” He mumbled into your hair before kissing your head. You felt your panic settle slowly and as you looked at the others you saw for the first time that they weren’t giving Mattheo cheesy looks like they usually did when he showed you affection or flirted with you. They looked angry, like they didn’t even notice the way Mattheo was holding you.

“But they can’t just treat our friend like that!” Enzo said, anger in his voice. What you noticed was the use of the word friend. They saw you as their friend. You don’t know why it hit you like this, you considered the boys your friends after the first time you met them in the astronomy tower, but the fact that they considered you their friend as well made you feel warm.

“Listen darling, I can promise that we won’t initiate any fights with them” Mattheo looked pointedly at Enzo as he said this. “But if they start one…” You slowly nodded; it seemed like a fair compromise even if you didn’t like it. The others nodded too.

“We can always beat them of their brooms in our next quidditch match.” Blaise let out, you let out a chuckle when you saw the small teasing smile on his face. The thing was that you wouldn’t be surprised if the Slytherin beaters accidentally did club Harry of his broom in the next match. Slowly the tense conversation eased into lighter topics, you could still see that the boys were angry from what happened earlier but you were glad that they slowly found their way back to their normal selves. You were still sitting between Mattheos legs, his arm around your back and his other hand in your lap. You were now playing with his rings as your head rested against his chest. You were feeling drained from all that happened and the vibrations in Mattheos chest from when he was talking was soothing you, making you sleepier by the moment. You heard that the boys went from talking loudly to low murmurs as you slipped in and out of sleep. The warmth of Mattheos large hand on your back under your shirt was the last thing you felt before dosed off, head nestled on his chest as he smoked his cigarette, comfortably rubbing the bare skin of your back.

You awoke some time later. The guys were still murmuring to each other lowly. You could feel Mattheos warm body against yours just like how you fell asleep, your fingers still clutching his. You could feel his other hand against the bare skin of your back.

“Good morning sleeping beauty.” Theo said teasingly when he saw that you were awake. You let out a yawn and you felt Mattheo chuckle.

“You comfortable there?” Blaise said joining in on the teasing, making you blush.

“Yeah, actually, Matty here is very comfy.” You said cheekily while cuddling closer to the boy. He chuckled and his hand found your waist under your shirt and gave it a squeeze.

“You sure you and Matty weren’t actually making out in the broom closet before you came here?” Enzo said with a smirk on his face and the others started cackling.

“Oh, shut up Enzo!” Mattheo let out with a chuckle and you were blushing hard at the insinuation. You get as to why they are teasing you though. You were sitting on the floor with Mattheo, you between his legs as your side are pressed to his chest and your legs were draped over one of his. His arm around your back and his other hand in your lap. You really did understand why they were teasing you, but it didn’t stop you from feeling embarrassed by their teasing. Enzo stuck his tongue out at you two which made you laugh.

“But seriously, how long was I asleep?” You asked and they chuckled at you.

“About 30 minutes.” Theo said and you sat up straighter.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep when we were supposed to hang out.” You apologised with a small frown.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, princess, you just needed some sleep. We don’t blame you.” Mattheo said softly, engulfing your hand in his. You could hear the other snigger at you two but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when you could feel yourself getting lost in his chocolate brown eyes. Those eyes who were looking at you intently, with a softness not many had ever seen.

“Don’t worry about it princess.” Blaise said in a voice mocking Mattheos.

“Oh, Matty, you’re so nice and handsome.” Theo said in a high-pitched voice that you assumed was supposed to be you.

“I’m so dark and twisted but for you I’m nice and sweet, look I even cuddle.” Enzo joined in with a dark voice that was supposed to sound like Mattheo. This made you burst out laughing. Mattheo rolled his eyes but couldn’t supress his amused smile.

“You guys are the worst!” You said as you laughed at them, the three boys were sitting there with cheeky grins on their faces.

“No, you guys are the worst, sitting like that making us feel like third, fourth and fifth wheels.” Blaise said with a teasing eyeroll. You chuckled at that.

“Aww, Blaisie you could always cuddle each other.” You said in a mockingly sweet voice making Mattheo chuckle. Blaise made a face at the thought of cuddling Enzo and Theo.

“Oh, come on Blaise, it wouldn’t be that bad.” Mattheo said, enjoying that you were finally the ones doing the teasing. Sensing an opening you turned to the boy whose lap you were practically sitting in.

“How would you know, Matty? Is cuddling a common practice in the Slytherin dorms?” You asked looking up at the boy with a smirk on your face. He was smirking right back at you.

“You have no idea.” Mattheo said jokingly making you laugh. The banter continued between your group long into the night, successfully cheering you up yet again. This night ended in the same way, Mattheo was walking you to your common room, with a hand on the low of your back. When you reached the portrait hole you turned to him and quietly thanked him for tonight. When you were about to turn around to go into your common room he grabbed your wrist.

“Hey, where is my goodnight kiss?” He said, a small pout on his lips. His question made your blush make yet another appearance on your cheeks. You smiled at the boy who was looking at you expectantly. You put your hands on his shoulders, his found your waist, rose to the very tips of your toes and you placed a kiss on his cheek, just like the first time he walked you back. With a shy smile you let go of him, murmured a soft goodnight and then went in through the portrait hole. You didn’t miss the broad smile on his face as he turned around to get back to his own common room.

The next morning you awoke with a smile on your face as memories from the night before flooded to your brain. It was around 9 when you woke up and you saw that Hermione was awake and reading a book in her bed. When she saw that you were awake, she put down her book and came to your bed, begging for details about your night. You told her about everything. Needing someone to vent to you told her about what Harry and Ron did, all the physical affection between you and Mattheo, the teasing from the boys, all of it. Hermione was giving you her thoughts about the situation as you got ready for the day. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, for which you both were excited. You needed to refill your snack drawer. As you exited your dorm you ran into Ginny and the three of you started to walk through the common room together on your way to breakfast. You joined the twins at the Gryffindor table, Harry and Ron were sitting a few places away from you, Ron sent you a nasty look which Hermione sent a glare back. She was very upset with them for what they did yesterday, Ginny and the twins too as soon as they were filled in on what happened.

The conversation switched to lighter topic as your group made their way to Hogsmeade. When you reached the village the twins left you for Zonko’s. You, Ginny and Hermione walked around in different shops but ultimately found your way to Honeydukes to fill up on snacks. You hadn’t seen any of the Slytherin boys all day and you were wondering if they even went to Hogsmeade today. While you were in Honeydukes you picked out different types of sweets to give to them, in case they didn’t get to go. After Honeydukes you all carries heavy bags of sweets. You stopped by The Three Broomsticks for some butterbeers before heading back to the castle. When you finally got back you dumped your sweets in their designated drawer before grabbing the bag you bought for the boys.

“Hey, Hermione, I’m just going to give this to the guys okay? See you in a bit.” You said as you leaved your dorm. When you exited the common room it struck you that you had no idea where they were. Deciding to check the astronomy tower first you started to make your way there. However, when you arrived it was empty. You checked the library after that, also empty. The great hall, empty. It left you no choice, you went down into the dungeons, on your way you met a Slytherin girl in your year that you were friendly with, Daphne Greengrass. You made small talk as you walked together towards the Slytherin common room. She was kind enough to tell you the password after letting you in. The Slytherin common room was quite different from Gryffindors. It had large windows that showed you the bottom of the black lake, large black couches and some fireplaces with warming fires going. Despite what you heard about it, their common room was cozy. You looked out the windows into the black lake and saw all sorts of fish and other creatures. The guys weren’t here either though.

“Excuse me, do you where Mattheos dorm is?” You asked a 7th year who lazily pointed you in the direction of his dorm. You walked up the stairs and made your way to where the 7th year showed you. You noticed that no one batted an eye at your presence in their common room, nor when you asked for the boys dormitories. Funny how different it would’ve been if the roles were reversed, and the boys were wandering around the Gryffindor common room. Stopping in front of the door you assumed was Mattheos and the rests dorm you took a deep breath before knocking. You waited, no answer. You listened intently and you heard their voices, they must’ve not heard you. You knocked again, harder this time and you heard footsteps nearing the door. It opened and before you were Enzo.

“Oh y/n! Come in. What are you doing here?” He asked curiously as he stepped aside for you to enter. You noticed that you walked into not a dorm but a hall full of doors.

“You guys have your own private dorms?” You asked in disbelief to which he chuckled and gave you a ‘yeah’ as he led you to one of the doors where you could hear shouts and someone groaning. You gave him an uncertain glance which he replied with a small smile before opening the door. Before you were a sight to behold. Mattheo was sitting on the bed, shirtless and bloody. He had dried blood coming from his nose, down his chin and chest, and a cut on his eyebrow. He held a bloody rag to his nose as he listened to Theo and Blaise cuss him out. You dropped the bag of sweets in shock of the scene making the boys freeze and look at you, like deer caught in headlights.

“You’re hurt.” You said with a frown as you stood in the doorway. Mattheo let out a breath.

“It’s nothing love, what are you doing here?” He asked, trying to change the subject.

“What happened?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Blaise chuckled at how you didn’t let up.

“Nothing darling, don’t worry.” He said, winching as he tried to smile, you now noticed a cut in his lip too.

“I’m not stupid Mattheo.” The guys chuckled at how you pursed your lips at him “If I heal you, will you talk?” You asked giving him a pointed look to which he nodded defeated. You bent down, grabbed the bag of sweets and placed it at the desk before moving to stand in front of him, your wand ready.

“Talk first.” You demanded, making the others cackle.

“She drives a hard bargain.” Theo said, amused as he watched the scene unfold. Mattheo mumbled something under his breath that you didn’t catch, the others cackled louder at this. You whirled around and glared at them.

“Shut up” You hissed at them before turning to the boy you were harbouring a crush on.

“What? Use your big boy words.” You said, annoyance in your voice, you could hear the others snigger quietly, making you send glares at them.

“I might have heard McLaggen talk about, uh, someone and I sort of beat him up.” He said sheepishly. You rose an eyebrow at the boy.

“You beat up McLaggen for talking about someone, about who?” You pressed to which he shrugged. You narrowed your eyes at him and then the others who all held up their hands in surrender.

“Why would you do that?” You asked, he shrugged again with a sigh of annoyance you quickly healed him to which he was grateful.

“You’re so annoying.” You mumbled under your breath to which he beamed.

“Yes, but you still love me.” He said in a sing song voice to which you rolled your eyes, but a small smile crept up on your lips.

“Anyways, the reason I decided to bless you with my presence was to give you guys this. I didn’t see you in Hogsmeade today, but since you were busy beating people up for talking about others, I now know why.” You said pointedly as you gave them the bag of sweets, still feeling quite annoyed.

“Oh, y/n this is really nice of you.” Blaise said taken aback.

“You really didn’t have to…” Theo muttered as Enzo and Mattheo murmured in agreement. This made you soften, your annoyance with the boys slowly fading away. You busied yourself with wetting a cloth with some water before slowly walking over to the bed where Mattheo was sitting stunned. You handed him the wet cloth, he accepted it with a small smile, blood still on his face.

“Haven’t anyone brought you a gift before?” You asked softly as the boys stared at the candy, Mattheo cleaning of the dried blood of his face and chest. They shook their heads no at your question.

“We aren’t the most liked people in school, as you know.” Enzo muttered fiddling with the packaging of a chocolate frog. This broke your heart.

“Well, I like you and I will always bring you something from Hogsmeade if you can’t make it.” You said determination in your voice making the boys look at you with wide eyes.

“Like you said, we’re friends, and I like to bring gifts to my friends.” You said with a smile, the boys slowly smiled too. You saw appreciative looks on their faces when you looked around the room, when your eyes landed on Mattheo next to you, you noticed that he had missed some blood.

“Here, let me.” You said softly and you reached to grab the cloth before wiping away some blood on his eyebrow. The look he was giving you now was the same one he gave you in the library. It made your breath catch in your throat, your movements coming to a halt as your eyes caught his. He was looking at you with those Bambi-eyes, butterflies erupted in your stomach, just like they usually did with him. His hand gripped your thigh, not in a sexual way, it was more like he was assuring himself that you really were there.

“You’re too good to us.” He murmured as he held your gaze, you cleared your throat, continuing to wipe away blood, from his chest now.

“I’m not, I just appreciate you guys, you’ve been really nice to me.” You said, a small smile on your lip as you threw the cloth in the trash.

“Well, that settles it, you can never leave us, I’m too attached now.” Blaise said with a cheesy smile on his face as he made his way to you and before you knew it, he pulled you into a bone crushing hug, lifting you up in the air. You squealed and kicked your legs.

“Ahh Blaise, put me down! I won’t leave you okay!” You said in between laughter, he was laughing too before setting you down. You didn’t have much time on the ground before Enzo and Theo went to hug you too, crushing you just like Blaise. Laughter filled the room from your squealing. When you were finally released you collapsed onto the bed, feeling winded.

“So, this is how you show your appreciation, by breaking your friends ribs?” You chuckle before leaning on your elbows looking at the boys who were grinning from ear to ear.

“No but we can break other people’s ribs if you need us to” Mattheo said which earned him a slap on his shoulder from you.

“You’re such a boy! And put a shirt on you heathen.” You said as you stuck your tongue out at him which earned some laughter from the others.

“Don’t try to pretend that you don’t enjoy the view.” He said wiggling his eyebrows at you, making you laugh before hitting his head with a pillow. He let out a grunt of shock before grabbing the pillow from your hand making you panic.

“Please don’t hit me I brought you candy!” You said as you braced for impact, but it never came instead you heard a groan from the boy.

“You can’t just pull that card, now I’ll feel bad if I hit you!” He pouted making you let out a breath of relief as the others laughed. Mattheo put the pillow down and went to put a shirt on, to your very secret disappointment. You all hung out in what you learned was Theos dorm, you were snacking and just chatting about anything and everything. It was around 8 in the evening when he tried to kick you out, but he wouldn’t give a reason.

“Ah, Theos girlfriend is coming soon.” Enzo teased as he stood up from his place by the desk, Blaise and Mattheo stood up as well.

“Omg Theo? You never told me you had a girlfriend! Who is she? How long have you been together? How did you meet?” You asked eagerly as you turned to Theo who now looked slightly uncomfortable.

“Well, y/n, we’re not together in uh that sense…” Theo trailed off, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. It took you a moment to realise what he meant you made a face which made the others laugh. Mattheo grabbed your hands to drag you up from your spot on the bed.

“Well, let’s go then darling, let Theo have some fun with his non-girlfriend.” He said with a laugh as you made another face, Enzo and Balise had already left for their own dorms.

“Come on love, it’s just sex, it’s no big deal.” He said with an amused smile on his face.

“It’s not the sex, it’s the way you’re phrasing it!” You said with your nose scrunched, making both Theo and Mattheo chuckle. You shook your head at them as you gave Theo a wave before letting Mattheo drag you out of Theos dorm. Mattheo started to walk towards another door in the hall, he gave you a look as to tell you to follow him before he opened the door and sauntered into what you assumed was his dorm. You followed him in, closing the door behind you, and looked around. His dorm was neat, he had shelves of books and records, you let your fingers trace the backs of them as Mattheo flopped down on his bed, watching you.

“I didn’t know you liked to read?” You said softly as you picked up a copy of the muggle book Moby Dick, turning it over in your hand as you looked at him. He shrugged before putting his arms behind his head.

“I had a lot of time when I was little, I guess the habit just stuck.” He answered your question nonchalantly. You smiled as you put the book back in its place. You sat down on the bed, looking at him.

“What?” He asked curiously, a small smile on his face. You let out a shy laugh before turning your body fully too him.

“You’re full of surprises, Mattheo Riddle.” You said softly.

“Oh yeah? Good or bad?” He asked, a soft smile on his face as he sat up to face you.

“Only good.” You said as you reached out to brush one of his stray curls out of his eyes. The tension from earlier made it’s way back between you. The air turned thick and heavy. Your hand hovered awkwardly by his cheek for a moment before he grabbed it in his larger one. You had shifted closer to him now as his other hand caressed your cheek.

“You really are too good to us, to me.” He murmured as his thumb traced your cheekbone. You didn’t know what to say, you were lost in his chocolate brown eyes, the feeling of his hand against your face, the whole of him. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. His hand moved to grip the hair in the back of your neck, a soft, yet steady grip as he closed his eyes. He looked like he was in pain as he opened his eyes again. Your heart was thumping loudly in your chest, you would be surprised if he didn’t hear your heartbeat. You don’t know how it slipped out it just did, but the world seemed to stop when you uttered those words.

“Kiss me, Matty.” The restraint he showed earlier completely vanished and his lips were on yours in a soft, passionate kiss. His hands moved to your waist as he lifted you into his lap, so you were straddling him. Your hands found their home in his hair, grabbing the ends of it, making him groan into your lips. His hands moved under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your waist.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” He grunted against your lips as he gripped the soft flesh of your hips. He was kissing you again, more intensely this time, his tongue was in your mouth exploring every part of it, hands gripping your hips firmly. He flipped you over mid kiss so that you were laying under him, his arms at either side of your head, and continued to kiss you.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you in potions.” He said as he kissed down your neck as you let out small moans. He pulled back to look at you, your hair was fanned out on his pillow as you laid there under him. You were looking up at him with big eyes, lips swollen and red from all the kissing. His hand grabbed your chin as he looked you in the eyes, vulnerability shone in his eyes.

“Please tell me that you’re mine, I can’t kiss you again without knowing that you’re mine.” He said, his voice strained, and your heart stopped. Your eyes widened in shock. Mattheo was known for not doing commitment, yet here he was, asking you to be his.

“What?” You asked, shock evident in your voice.

“Fuck, yes love, all I want is you. I think about you before I go to bed, right after I wake up, I can’t eat, sleep or do anything without you being on my mind. Hell, it was you McLaggen talked about, he didn’t even say anything bad, and I still saw red. You’re fucking perfect, you’re too good for me, yet you make me want to rip my heart out of my chest and give it to you if that’s what it takes for you to be mine, my girlfriend, my whatever you’re willing to be.” He said his eyes closed and his head dipped in the crook of your neck. Your hands pulled his face up so you could look at him. His eyes were searching yours for any sign of anything.

“Do you really mean that, Matty?” You whispered to which he nodded. Your face broke out in a wide smile, his face slowly matching yours.

“Then I’m yours, your girlfriend, as long as you’re mine, my boyfriend.” You said, using his words from just moments before. You have never seen a wider smile on his face before. He leaned down again and gave you the sweetest kiss you’ve ever felt. You spent the rest of the night cuddled up in his bed, kissing, talking, cuddling, Mattheo even read to you at some point of the evening. He read a chapter of Little Women, a muggle novel he said he thought you might like. At some point you fell asleep in his arms, your head comfortably nestled on his chest. It was the best sleep you have had for a long time. When you awoke the next day Mattheo was still holding you, his hand firmly on your waist. He looked so peaceful as he slept, his curls messy, his mouth slightly open as soft snores escaped him. You reached a hand up to caress your boyfriends face, his eyes shot open the second you touched him.

“Sorry” you whispered as you stroked his hair out of his face.

“Please tell me I’m not dreaming.” He rasped, his voice thick with sleep. A blush spread across your cheeks at his voice. You let out a giggle at his words.

“You’re not, Matty.” You said softly before giving him a soft kiss on the lips to which he responded immediately by kissing you back and rolling you over so that he was on top of you. He deepened the kiss groaning at the feeling of your hands in his hair. Before anything else could happen, you were interrupted by his door slamming open.

“Rise and shi-” You heard Blaise say before falling completely silent.

“Sorry mate, we didn’t know you had a girl over.” This was Enzo, you assumed they couldn’t see that it was you based on how Mattheo was over you. He gave you a short smirk before looking back at the three boys who stood in the doorway. When he shifted his position, the boys got a clear view of your face.

“No”

“Fucking”

“Way.” They said in disbelief as they saw you, although fully clothed, under Mattheo, in his bed, in the morning. Mattheo chuckled as you let out an embarrassed laugh. Mattheo rolled off you, making you miss his warmth, and the two of you sat up.

“When did this happen?” Enzo asked and you explained what happened, choosing to leave out some of the more intimate details.

“Look, I’m so happy for you and all but seriously, if you were touchy, feely before I can’t even imagine what it will be like now!” Blaise groaned as you were walking to breakfast, Mattheos arm securely around your waist.

“Do you really think they can get worse?” Theo pondered with a smirk on his face. Mattheo rolled his eyes and gave your waist a squeeze, making you smile as your friends discussed the matter at hand. When you entered the great hall, you didn’t have time to think before you were pulled to the Slytherin table to sit with your boyfriend. You were talking and laughing as you ate your breakfast. You caught Fred and Georges eye, just as you did Theos in the beginning of your friendship, the twins gave you a cheeky wink each and wiggled their eyebrows. Then they leaned over to say something to Hermione and Ginny who were sitting with their backs to you. The girls turned around as saw you sitting with Mattheo, his arm around you waist, they smiled at you and then turned around to talk intently with the twins. You turned your attention back to your boyfriend who were arguing with Theo about something. What you didn’t notice were the looks from Harry and Ron, they saw your genuine smile when you looked at Mattheo, they also saw how Mattheo looked at you like you were the one who hung the stars and the moon. They realised then what a big mistake they made.

They caught up with you when you had left the boys to go change in your dorms, with a promise to join them again once you had freshened up.

“y/n, please wait up.” Harry shouted as they ran up to you. You stopped and turned to them, a wary look on your face.

“Please, y/n we’re really sorry for how we behaved.” Harry said, an apologetic look on his face.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry for saying that you would sleep with anyone who is nice to you, I know you would never do that, you’re like one of the smartest people I know.” Ron said, him too looking apologetic.

“When we heard that Riddle beat up McLaggen for talking about you, we sort of realised that he might not be using you.” Ron added.

“I forgive you.” You said slowly. Harry and Ron straightened.

“You do?” The asked, hopeful.

“Yeah, but what you said really hurt. I miss my friends though.” You said with a smile as you gave them hugs. You walked with them to the common room, joking as you did before all the drama. You filled Hermione and Ginny in on your recent development in your relationship with Mattheo as you went around your dorm to freshen up. You were eager to get to him. When you finally had changed and freshened up you hurried through the castle to the dungeons and when you finally reached your boyfriends dorm you walked in and jumped on him as he was laying on the bed, reading. He let out a grunt as you landed on him.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” He asked with a smile as he put the book away. You explained what had happened, about how Harry and Ron apologized and how happy it made you that you were finally friends again. Mattheo beamed at you before pulling you in for a kiss, one of many to come. Everything was finally right, and you couldn’t be happier.

[raitonsfw]

𝟸𝟻𝟶 𝟶𝟶𝟶 𝚢𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 | 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞 ꨄ

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Gojo was a big fucking spender, whether you liked it or not. Almost every clothing item he owned ranged well over the price of 150 000 yen, even his shoes; sometimes those were more expensive. Coming home one day from work, there’s a pink gift bag (complete with a lil bow and all) sitting pretty on the ottoman for you. As you opened it, black expensive lace peeked back at you and so did the price, zeros going on for miles on the tiny tag.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, boyfriend!gojo, rich!gojo, dirty talk, lingerie (and the tearing of it), grinding (if you squint), fingering, cunnilingus, slight breeding kink, p in v intercourse, creampie, insecurity (about how much gojo spends), corny pick up lines, sayings, & jokes, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, pretty, princess, good girl), lovedrunk, feral, & pussywhipped gojo (man loves you, would hang the moon for you fr), a surprise near the end (i said he loves you goddammit)

a/n: happy february 1st (finally can say it without the queue messing up my schedule) anyway, here's my second valentine for you loves! i hope you enjoy, until next week! 💌 wc: 3.4k. v-day m.list | m.list

a/n pt 2: p.s. i'm such a sucker for writing gojo kinda cringey. alsoo its not my best work but i did what i could!

divider credit: @hitobaby & @firefly-graphics

Coming home was the biggest mistake you had made in your entire life, because what the fuck was this? Your fingers held up a piece of lace material, black in color and you puzzled at it as you noticed that the lingerie piece barely looked as though it’d cover anything; thanks to your million dollar boyfriend.

“It’s gorgeous, huh?” You heard his promiscuous voice ring out through the living room at just the right time, when your voice cursed him to the high heavens. You nearly jumped out of your skin, the lingerie falling near your feet and you turned quickly to face him, his hip popped against the doorframe.

“Satoru!” Your face was bright red, the blush spreading down your neck and you hid your face underneath your sweatshirt sleeve with a scowl. Gojo was in his usual sorcerer uniform, complete with the black blindfold covering the vivid blue and you still tried to shy away from him even though you knew you couldn’t. Not when his eyes saw all, saw the way yours glistened at the thoughtful gift.

“Hey sweetheart. Like the gift?” 

“I told you not to buy me any more lingerie…” You huffed, glancing at the tag as you went to put the set back in the bag. There was an infinite amount of zeroes littering the price tag and you almost dropped the lingerie piece again– in utter shock that the fucking price was over 250,000 yen. “Oh my God…”

“Oh, please. I know you, you don’t wear lingerie sets more than twice. And last time I checked, I tore the last one.” He smirked, walking towards you with a tiny skip in his step and your hands trembled as you smoothed the lace over with your delicate fingers. “Besides, your favorite store was having a Valentine’s Day sale and I just had to have you in that.” 

Right, it was Valentine’s Day soon. 

“A sale?! This doesn’t look like a price tag for a sale. More like someone’s monthly rent, -toru.” You frowned, feeling Gojo’s strong arms fold underneath your waist and he took the fabric in his hands. Unfurling it from its tangled confines, he draped it over you with a gentle hum of a tune evading your surroundings.

“Hold it like that for me.” Gojo murmured as he stepped around you, standing in front of you while checking behind him as he backed up slightly. He focused on you, his fingers coming up to ‘snap a picture’ and you blushed profusely when you saw the dopey smile that mustered up on his face. Your blush turned into another scowl though as you remembered the price of it, how could he just spend money so fruitlessly?

Gojo lifted his blindfold for a few seconds to glance at your figure; you could see the gears turning in his head and you wouldn’t be very surprised if he sprouted an erection right then and there. But he also noticed your glowering eyes and his lighthearted demeanor faded away, a worried look washing over his face.

“What’re mad for, baby? I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to spoil you.” 

“You spend so much on me, I’m not worth that much.” You muttered, starting to fold the lingerie set to put it back in the bag; away and out of sight from you.

You usually liked Gojo’s sweet gestures, gifts piled at your doorstep like it was Christmas every month normally but this time it just seemed a bit out of place– you knew him to flaunt his wealth alot but this? He’s never gotten you something so expensive. You couldn’t accept such a generous gift that would be soiled within minutes of wearing it.

“Excuse me? Where’d you learn that crazy talk from?” Gojo said with an exasperated gasp, coming to embrace you and you didn’t answer him as he pulled you close. His hands feathered through your hair and honestly you couldn’t breath through the fabric of his jacket, the turtleneck part of it threatening to strangle you as he squeezed himself around you in a tight hug.

“Don’t ever think that! I would buy the world for you if I could manage to fit it inside a gift box.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh into his chest, his words souring after they sat for a minute. “That was so cringey, Satoru.” 

“You still love me though, perks of being me… I think?” Gojo let go of you, holding you by your shoulders now and you reached up to slip his blindfold fully off. He blinked through the dimness of the apartment, his eyes fixating on you once more. 

There was something that just made you feel so in love with him, everytime you managed to zero in on those hypnotic eyes of his– almost every bad thought melted away and yeah, you were definitely overreacting. 

Let the man spoil you, if he so wishes.

“Yes, I still love you.” You fonded, planting a luscious kiss against his lips and he had no qualms, his mouth instantly moving against you eagerly. Gojo softly moaned into the kiss, one of his hands snaking down your back towards your ass and you squeaked out as he gave you a tiny swat against the plushness of it.

“Great, now go try on the lingerie.” Thrusting the bag back into your hands, he grinned at you and there was no way in hell you could deny him– not with the way he looked, so ecstatic to see you in the precious lace garments he bought you.

Putting it on wasn’t much of a struggle, it fit you nicely in all the right places. The full length mirror did you just enough justice, staring back at a body that had devious curves and everything in between the skimpy lace that barely covered your intimates. You weren't all that self conscious, though you weren’t sure what you’d do once you were in front of Gojo. Where would he look first? 

Would his eyes lay against your breasts that bobbed in the lace, perched up prettily or would they drag to your soft thighs, cuffed in the garter belt holding up the thigh highs that accented the set? Would they focus on your mound and in the middle, your drenched pussy staining the thin fabric or would he drool over everything all at once? 

“Baby… Are you done yet? I’m getting lonely.” You heard him mewl outside the door, a soft tap from his knuckle echoing through the bathroom and you nodded to yourself, adjusting little bits and pieces of the thread to make sure it sat perfectly for him. 

You paused with your hand on the doorknob. Why were you so goddamn nervous? 

“You have it on? C’mon, let me see already.” 

As you opened the door, Gojo wasn’t in front of it anymore. Instead, he was seated on the lavish sofa that met in the center of the room, his head lying lazily against the back of it with his arms extended. His thighs were spread apart on the cushions, his legs folding outwards and you could already see a lush bulge in his trousers, peaked with interest as he waited impatiently for you. You wanted to skip the shame of twirling for him and just sit yourself right against it, sit yourself down on it and just–

Gojo’s head snapped up– he must’ve sensed you– and his bright eyes zeroed in on your face first. Then they trailed down towards your body, drinking in the adorned curves of the lingerie on you and his mouth fell open in a quiet sigh. “Y/N…” 

You walked towards him, a small sway to your step and his hands pressed down against the sofa as you neared him. They nearly white knuckled it, his mouth still open and his eyes flickering over every crevice of the threads decorating you– his knees had quickly pressed together and you’ve never seen him so flustered in your entire life. Sure, you’ve modeled for him here and there with other gorgeous sets; but this was different. 

Was this your Satoru? The ego induced maniac who could and would knock you off your feet with a single flirtatious remark? It was refreshing to see him like this– reduced to nothing but boyish clouded lust.

“You going to say something other than my name, baby?” You asked, pureness reining your voice and you purred inwardly when he was still speechless. You eyed at the seam of his trousers, noticing the way it tented up considerably just from a few seconds of gazing you over. “Satoru?” 

“Hi, yes sorry. Come here.” Gojo’s hand faltered slightly as he reached for you and you happily obliged, straddling his lap. A low hum escaped him as you sat flush with his clothed cock against your heat, his legs spreading apart again to let you sink down onto him comfortably. “Holy hell, is this heaven ‘cause you look like–” 

“So help me if you finish that sentence, I’ll take this off.” You interrupted, getting ready to move off of him but his hands grasped your hips greedily. 

“That’s what I’m hoping for, angel.” A naughty grin crept up on his face as he pulled you into a warm kiss. Yeah, it’s definitely your Satoru.

His tongue slid past your lips easily and his eyes slipped shut, drawing you closer to him– faintly aware of the slickness that roughed up his trousers. You bit his lip seductively and a startled moan spilled into your mouth heavily, his hips subtly rocking up into you. It was needy and desperate and everything you ever wanted to hear and feel from him, because of course he was already riled up– just look at you.

His fingers looped inside the lace of your panties, rubbing his fingertips against the seams of it and you hummed as they curved towards the where you needed it most. His other hand fondled your breast, the flesh of it spilling out over the cups and all he wanted to do was press a tender kiss to your nipple, sucking it in between his teeth to nip and tug til it reddened with overstimulation. 

“Are you going to touch me or…” You shook him from his daze, earning a sarcastic snort from him.

You moaned quietly as his hand immediately slipped underneath the fabric, toying with your nipple until it hardened and a gentle finger swiped through the slick that collected inside your panties. He tsked, “Already ruining the lace, so filthy…” 

You let out a tiny huff, intending to apologize when two of his fingers sunk through your arousal and you leaned into him with a whimper. Gojo didn't hesitate to mark up your neck as soon as you moved forward, his teeth grazing alongside the nasty bruises and your hips jutted out as he expertly curled his digits into you. You whined into his ear– a glorious symphony if he must say so himself– and his thumb pressed into the swell of your clit. Sucking a languid hickey against the near front of your neck, he noticed you had started to move against him– fucking your perfect cunt down onto his pliant fingers.

Every roll of your hips, his cock got some action as well; as your clit rubbed against the tip of his cock that threatened to burst out of his trousers now. Holy fuck, he was straining too– he knew you could feel it as you sat right against it. He was losing his train of thought more and more by the second as you panted out, he needed more– so much more, his dick was nearly crying as it leaked out tiny droplets of precum in his boxers. If you weren’t so lost in pleasure at the moment, you would’ve noticed the small wet spot forming in the fabric– his jujutsu uniform’s probably going to need to be dry cleaned.

He would finish his pick up line if he could speak, his voice not quite there anymore– you looked like a heaven sent angel veiled in the lingerie of a hell spawned devil. 

From his angle, Gojo could see the swell of your ass lightly jiggling, the lace barely covering it and the flesh of your thighs sat beautifully against his own and honestly he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed you, his vision blackening with lust as you worked yourself fully open on his fingers now. His cock ached so fucking badly and he vaguely noted to get you crotchless lingerie next time so he could just slide right in without needing to fumble with the weird straps. 

When your breath hitched in your throat as your clit spasming directly against the frenulum of his cock, his tip desperately trying to dip into the lace through his thick fucking clothing– he lost it.

“Fuck it…” You heard him growl against your laced breast as he popped it out of its cup, the entire bralette tearing on impact. You gasped at the ripping sound, but you were too delirious to scold him as his fingers started fucking faster into you to keep you quiet about the torn lingerie. Gojo snagged your nipple in his mouth with a frantic moan, his fingers coated with slick as he pulled them out quickly to tear off your panties. They shedded easily and you were left with remnants of lace pristine against your body, another gasp coming from you as you realized what he did.

“-toru, what are you–?!” 

Before you could finish your sentence, your entire figure was thrown against the cushions of the sofa and his shirt and trousers were stripped from his body. His eyes were trained on your ripped lingerie and you couldn’t quite figure out what was going on in his head until he yanked the rest of it off, excluding your thigh highs. And now you were exposed in front of him and he was out 250,000 yen; because he just couldn’t keep his composure.

“I’ll buy you another set, I swear– though I can’t guarantee it’ll survive…” Gojo said under his breath, planting kisses down the span of your chest. He trailed them towards your tummy, innate circles rubbing into your hips and he shuddered at how the garter belt sat snug against your waist– and how easy it was to tear off, his teeth latching on it with fervor. You gasped as you felt the band snap, your thigh highs falling  down slightly where they sat as they were no longer held up by the precious lace. 

He grabbed the extra lace from his mouth and threw it somewhere across the room, his tongue immediately delving into your tight heat. A broken whine was coaxed from your throat as he fucked it in and out needily, quiet pants breathing over your cunt. Gojo’s hands grabbed at your thighs, pressing his nose straight into your clit as he lapped at everything he could reach and you couldn’t help the wanton moans that leaked from your mouth, your hands grasping at his snowy hair.

He was downright animalistic at this point. You carved his shoulder blades with your nails, desperate for him to drive you over the edge; your impending orgasm making your legs tremble. “Satoru, shit– c-close…”

“C’mon, cum for me, pretty.” He murmured into your cunt, slightly muffled and you keened up into his mouth– ultimately fucking yourself on his tongue. And God, did he groan at that; his hums of utter satisfaction basically sent you spasming through your climax. Your hands flew to the edge of the sofa, clutching tightly as you rolled your hips into the insane pleasure– into his mouth that lapped up every drool of arousal that leaked out from your convulsions. He was vain with it too, looping out his fucking name against your folds to claim you as you whimpered his name.

“T-Take me with you to shop next time.” You managed out as you sat up on your elbows, looking down at him while you came down from your high. “I’ll decide what you can and can’t rip.” 

Gojo tutted out a laugh, coming up to hover over you– his chin glinted with your juices and you reddened at the sight of how goddamn needy you were. “Fine, baby– now arch your back f’ me.”

His cock prodded your entrance, slender fingers wrapped around the base of it as he guided it into you greedily and you threw your head back against the arm of the sofa with a whine. You did exactly as he said; you arched your back into the intoxicating pleasure, his cock stretching you out and filling every bit of space you could give him. He fit perfectly within you everytime, which made you dizzy with lust as you hooked one hand around the back of his neck.

“Always take me so well, princess.” Gojo purred, not bothering to let you adjust as he started to snap his hips into you. “Fits like a glove, huh?” 

You were so sore already– from the last orgasm wreaking havoc– but you couldn’t get enough of his long cock drilling into you, every thrust kissing your cervix and making your walls clench around him with whimpers drowning out the riveting squelches. You managed to look up at him, his fingertips nudging into the plush of your thighs, against the sleek material of your thigh highs and you knew he wasn’t going to last very long. 

His eyes were already rolling back into his head at every fill of his cock dragging against your walls, his jaw slack and you were surprised at how pussy whipped he was– normally he’d watch you religiously writhe underneath him. His hair was disheveled as he ran his hand through it before frantically gripping your thigh again, panting out curses and you inadvertently squeezed hard around him at the action with a high pitched moan. 

“Oh– fuck, holy shit..! Keep squeezing me like that, we’re g-gonna have to go shopping–” Gojo groaned out, his cock pounding into you harder now, pleasure coursing through your entire body as he hit your sweet spot dead on.��

“F-For more lingerie?” 

“No, for a fucking crib.”

“Fuck, Satoru– faster.” You whined out, completely obsessed with the thought and you felt your second climax tremble through your thighs, straight towards the throbbing of your cunt. ‘Cum in me, -toru…please.”

Gojo didn’t answer you, too wrapped up in your pretty pussy with hefty moans pouring out of him and his fingers slipped down towards your clit. He rubbed circles against it, interchanging his angle to fuck you deeper, faster– and you could feel how close you were.

“Got another surprise for you on Valentine’s Day, baby…” He started babbling, his chest rising and falling as he rutted into you. His eyes slipped from his cock, creamy and wet from your arousal, to your eyes now. “Involves a little jewelry piece, think you’ll love it… Think you’ll love me even more.” 

You didn’t hear him though, too caught up in your release caving in every sense you had and replacing them with pure euphoria. You couldn’t fucking see, hear, even think as it overtook your body. You came so hard around his cock, clenching and unclenching which brought Gojo to his own release rather quickly. He stilled in you with a harsh whine and his eyes squeezed shut as he came in you, white ropes leaking out rather abruptly. 

He repeated soft praises like ‘good girl, take it all…’ and ‘gonna make sure none drools outta you, so good for me’ a few times in a needy tone, collapsing against your chest afterwards. Gojo buried his face into your neck, smoothing his hands over the thigh highs you had on. 

“I’m so sorry about the lingerie, Y/N…” He apologized, his eyes glancing up towards yours as he moved over to litter kisses on your cheek. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow, I promise. You’ll pick out your Valentine’s Day lingerie set and I’ll watch you model it for me–”

You interrupt him with a soft kiss, humming against his lips. “It wasn’t my money, it was yours, you idiot.”

Gojo blinked at you, then a mischievous look crossed his face. “How about a nice pink set this time? Frilly, rose hearts covering your perky nipples and–” 

“Satoru.”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[novaursa]

Where Dragons Dare (1/3)

- Summary: After you are left greatly injured by a dragon riding accident, the small council puts pressure on your father, King Viserys I, to have another male heir.

- Paring: (male!targ) reader/Alicent Hightower

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is twin brother of Rhaenyra and is bonded with a dragon. For more of my works visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mild 13+ (rating will go all the way up for the last two parts)

- Word count: 9 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @literaturedog

- A/N: This was requested by @witch-of-letters. ❤️ I hope you enjoy the first part. I've tried to fit into this one most of the information you've given me. The rest will be in the next two parts.

- Next part: 2

The council chamber buzzes with tension, thick as smoke, as the lords gathered around the long table cast uneasy glances at King Viserys. The king, grey hairs creeping into his Targaryen silver, wears the weight of the realm across his brow. His gaze is distant, fixed on the empty chair at the end of the table where you, his only son, should be sitting, were it not for the incident that left you bed-ridden, your ribs shattered and your leg mangled. The air is tight, a storm brewing beneath the grand stone arches and tapestries that adorn the walls.

Viserys lets out a weary sigh as Grand Maester Mellos, hunched and robed in the dull grays of his order, speaks. “Your Grace, the Prince’s injuries are… severe. His recovery remains uncertain, particularly with the damage sustained to his leg. There is concern that even if he does survive this ordeal, he may never ride Dallax again.” Mellos’ tone is cautious, as if picking each word with tweezers.

At that, Otto Hightower, ever poised and calculated, leans forward with his usual practiced air of concern. “It is regrettable, Your Grace, but these events could have been avoided had the young prince exercised more restraint. Dragonriding is no sport to be taken lightly, yet Prince Y/N chose to put himself and others at risk with those… dangerous maneuvers during Maiden’s Day celebrations.”

The jab is subtle, but the intent is sharp. Otto’s words are always carefully weighted, his voice smooth as oil yet edged like a blade. There’s a flicker of something behind Viserys’ eyes at the mention of your name, but it’s Corlys Velaryon who rises to your defense before your father can respond.

“Dangerous, you say, Lord Hightower? A dragonrider’s bond with his mount is not something to be dictated by the whims of others,” Corlys counters, his voice deep and resonant. “The Prince, young as he is, shares a bond with Dallax that most dragonriders would envy. To stifle that connection for fear of injury would be to deny what it means to be Targaryen.”

Tyland Lannister, ever opportunistic and sharp-eyed, cuts in with a smooth smile, “While that may be true, Lord Corlys, we cannot ignore the situation at hand. The heir is gravely injured, and we do not yet know the extent of his recovery. The Crown’s stability must be maintained, especially with Queen Aemma carrying another child. We all pray for a healthy son this time, as it would ensure—”

Viserys’ eyes narrow, cutting off Tyland mid-sentence. “You would dare place my son’s potential death before the birth of another heir?” There’s a warning in the king’s tone, though it lacks the sharpness it might have once had. He looks tired, older somehow, as if the weight of his crown presses down harder with each passing year. “Y/N will recover. He is strong, like his mother.”

Otto’s voice slices through the tension again, softer but no less cutting. “No one doubts the Prince’s strength, Your Grace. However, we must be practical. The realm must always have a clear line of succession. Given the uncertainty surrounding Prince Y/N’s condition, ensuring that the Crown is secure with another male heir is not an option to be taken lightly.”

Corlys shoots Otto a disdainful glance, his irritation evident. “It seems some here are quick to forget that Prince Y/N is still very much alive. Would you so easily cast him aside, Hightower?”

Otto doesn’t flinch. “I speak only of the reality we must face. The Prince’s injuries are a reminder of the dangers inherent to our lineage. Daemon Targaryen was much the same in his youth, reckless and bold. Look where that has led him. The realm cannot afford another… unsteady Targaryen to destabilize it.”

Viserys’ face hardens at the mention of Daemon, but there’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes. It’s no secret that Otto sees you as another Daemon-in-the-making—bold, fiery, and likely to cause as much chaos as your uncle once did. But Corlys, undeterred, presses forward.

“The Prince is no Daemon, and it is folly to compare the two. Y/N is his father’s son, and he carries his mother’s heart in him as well. You speak of him as though he were already lost, yet he fights even now to return to us.”

Mellos interjects, his voice soft yet firm. “We must consider all possibilities. Should the worst happen, the realm would be thrown into disarray if another male heir is not secured. Queen Aemma’s pregnancy provides an opportunity to ensure stability. No one wishes harm upon Prince Y/N, but the Crown must prepare for all outcomes.”

The chamber falls silent as Viserys leans back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrest. His eyes flicker from one lord to the next, the weight of their words heavy upon him. It is clear that this is not just about your health, but about the fear that haunts every Targaryen king—the fragility of power, and the burden of legacy.

At last, Viserys speaks, his voice measured but lined with steel. “Y/N is my son, my heir. He will recover. We will not speak of replacing him while he yet breathes and fights. The Queen’s child—should it be a boy—will not supplant my son’s birthright.”

The lords exchange uneasy glances, but none dare press the matter further. Otto’s lips press into a thin line, his eyes calculating, already plotting his next move. Corlys gives a satisfied nod, as if some silent victory has been won in this battle of words.

“Let us end this meeting,” Viserys declares, standing abruptly. “My son needs me at his side, not in this chamber, bickering over shadows.” With that, the King strides from the room, leaving the lords in tense silence. 

The echoes of that discussion linger, the council divided, the seeds of doubt planted. But in the end, it is your fate, your strength, that will determine the realm’s future. Whether you rise again or fall will shape the course of House Targaryen’s history, and those who doubt you now will soon see just how much fire runs in your veins.

Alicent Hightower’s fingers work restlessly, picking at the skin around her nails until they redden, a nervous habit she can never seem to fully break. Her eyes, tinged with worry, flicker toward Rhaenyra, who paces before the hearth, her face a storm of emotions. The princess is rarely still, her movements a reflection of her restless energy. But today, there’s an undercurrent of unease in her steps.

Rhaenyra finally pauses, catching Alicent’s gaze, her expression softening just slightly. “You’re worried about him too, aren’t you?” Rhaenyra’s voice carries a note of exasperation, though it’s more for her brother than for Alicent. “Everyone is,” she adds, her tone a mix of annoyance and affection.

Alicent nods, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her dress as she carefully forms her next words. “I heard the fall was… grave. My brother, Gwayne, he’s been beside himself with worry. He asked after Prince Y/N’s condition, but I haven’t had the heart to tell him much, as I didn’t know the truth of it myself.” Her eyes search Rhaenyra’s for any sign of reassurance.

Rhaenyra gives a small, mirthless laugh, though there’s fondness in her voice. “It was a bad fall, yes. Several broken ribs, a twisted leg… it was awful to see him like that, especially with all the blood. But you know my brother—his head’s still intact, and that’s all he seems to care about. He was already jesting the moment I rushed in to see him after it happened. Can you imagine?” She shakes her head, lips curving slightly. “The first thing he told me was that the dragon landing was all Dallax’s fault, as if the creature hadn’t been trying to save him mid-air.”

Alicent lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The tension in her shoulders eases just a fraction, and despite herself, a soft smile graces her lips at Rhaenyra’s words. “That does sound like him,” she says quietly, her voice warm with a touch of relief. “He’s always been kind to me, even when others were not. I thought I might visit him, to see how he fares. But I didn’t want to intrude… especially with everything happening.”

Rhaenyra’s sharp eyes catch the shift in Alicent’s tone, the nervous edge behind her request. Her smirk returns, a knowing look that dances in her violet eyes. “Is that all, Alicent? You simply wish to return a kindness?” There’s a teasing lilt to her voice, but it isn’t cruel—rather, it’s affectionate, as one might tease a younger sister.

Alicent’s cheeks flush a delicate shade of pink, and her fingers return to picking at the skin of her thumb. “I only thought it would be polite…” she trails off, clearly flustered under Rhaenyra’s knowing gaze.

“Polite,” Rhaenyra repeats, almost to herself, savoring the word like it’s some private joke. Then, with a mischievous glint, she steps closer and leans in as if sharing a secret. “Why don’t we visit him now, then?” she suggests, her voice both challenging and inviting. “I was planning to see him anyway, and I imagine he’s bored out of his mind. You’d be doing him a favor by distracting him from all the fussing Grand Maester Mellos has been doing.”

Alicent blinks, caught off guard by the sudden suggestion. “Now?” she echoes, her heart skipping a beat. She had been expecting to arrange a visit discreetly, perhaps later in the day, but to go now, with no time to compose herself or prepare… She hesitates, the butterflies in her stomach fluttering wildly. But then, she straightens her spine, smoothing out the folds of her dress. “Yes,” she replies with quiet resolve, the flush still faint on her cheeks. “Let’s go now.”

Rhaenyra’s smirk softens into a genuine smile. “Good. He’ll be glad to see you, I’m sure of it.” She turns and leads the way, her stride confident and purposeful, and for a moment, Alicent is struck by how effortlessly her friend carries herself, a blend of grace and fire that draws everyone’s eyes.

Alicent hurries to match Rhaenyra’s pace, her thoughts racing as they walk down the long corridors of the Red Keep. She’s already imagining what she’ll say when she sees you, how she’ll carefully choose her words to avoid showing too much concern, or worse, revealing the affection she’s kept hidden for so long. It’s no secret that she and you share a certain awkwardness in each other’s presence, a tension that dances between propriety and something unspoken. But perhaps this visit will be different, she tells herself. Perhaps today she’ll find the courage to speak more freely, to let you see the care that lingers behind her usually composed exterior.

The clang of armor and the soft murmurs of passing courtiers fade into the background as the two young women make their way toward your chambers. The air seems heavier the closer they get, anticipation thickening with each step. Rhaenyra glances at Alicent from the corner of her eye, noting the way her friend’s hands twist together nervously. “You know,” Rhaenyra says casually, breaking the silence, “he’s probably expecting me to bring news of the council meeting. But I think he’ll be more interested in who I’ve brought along.”

Alicent’s breath hitches, but she quickly composes herself, offering a light, practiced smile. “I only hope I don’t disturb him.”

Rhaenyra chuckles softly. “Disturb him? You’re more likely to brighten his day, Alicent. He’s been locked away in that chamber long enough. I’d say he could use the company of someone with a gentle touch.”

As they near your chamber doors, the conversation fades, leaving only the echo of their footsteps in the dimly lit hallway. Alicent’s heart pounds in her chest, nerves battling with the quiet thrill of finally seeing you after days of anxious waiting. She takes a deep breath, her hand resting briefly over her stomach as if to steady herself, before glancing at Rhaenyra, who gives her an encouraging nod.

The heavy oak door creaks open, and the first thing Rhaenyra and Alicent see is Queen Aemma, heavily pregnant, perched on the edge of your bed, fussing over you with the care only a mother can give. Her hand smooths the unruly strands of silver hair from your forehead, her gaze filled with a mixture of sternness and deep worry.

“You should be resting more,” Aemma chides softly, adjusting the pillows behind you for the third time. “It’s a miracle you survived that fall. You push yourself too hard, my sweet boy.”

You chuckle, though the sound is edged with the discomfort you try to hide. “Mother, I’m hardly on death’s door,” you say, your voice light despite the tightness in your chest from the bruised ribs. “You’re embarrassing me, fussing like this in front of my guests. I’ve survived worse—remember the time Dallax nearly knocked me off during that storm over Dragonstone?”

Aemma gives you a look of mock disapproval, though her eyes glisten with affection. “That’s no reason for you to go risking your life every time you’re in the saddle. But I suppose I’ll leave you to your visitors. If you need anything, send for me at once.” She leans in, ignoring your protest, and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Behave yourself, and don’t be too stubborn,” she adds with a small smile, before gracefully rising from the bed.

As she turns, Aemma’s gaze softens when she sees Rhaenyra and Alicent by the door. “He’s in good hands now,” she says warmly, giving Rhaenyra a brief but knowing smile, before excusing herself from the room.

Once Aemma is gone, Rhaenyra moves closer, her usual air of confidence returning as she grins down at you. “So, how is my brave brother faring today? Still planning to be back in the saddle by week’s end, or has the council convinced you to take up a life of courtly entertainment with Mushroom?”

You chuckle again, though it comes out more like a wince. “Well, if I can’t fly, I suppose I can stand in the throne room and juggle while Mushroom tells his bawdy tales. It might be just what the court needs to liven things up.” Your eyes gleam with amusement, though there’s a hint of frustration beneath your humor, the kind only Rhaenyra would notice. You’ve never been one to take well to being bedridden.

Rhaenyra snorts in amusement, shaking her head. “I’d pay good coin to see that. Though I doubt our dear father would find it as amusing as the rest of us.”

Your gaze drifts then, catching sight of Alicent standing just a little behind Rhaenyra, her hands clasped together nervously. She gives you a small, polite curtsy, her cheeks tinged with a soft flush. “Prince Y/N,” she greets, her voice gentle, almost tentative. “I heard about your fall, and… I was worried. I hope I’m not intruding by coming here. I—”

“Alicent,” you interrupt, your tone softening as your expression shifts into one of genuine warmth. The playful banter fades, replaced by something quieter, more sincere. “You could never be a bother. I’m glad you’re here, truly.” Your words seem to ease some of the tension from her shoulders, and the corner of your mouth lifts into a reassuring smile.

Rhaenyra looks between the two of you, her smirk deepening, though she wisely stays silent for the moment, letting the exchange unfold.

Alicent takes a hesitant step closer, her eyes briefly meeting yours before she looks down at her hands. “I… I wanted to bring you something,” she says, her voice nearly a whisper as she reaches into the pocket of her gown and retrieves a small, delicately woven ribbon in shades of deep crimson and gold. “It’s just a token, to wish you a swift recovery. I know it’s nothing much, but I thought…” She trails off, the blush deepening on her cheeks as she holds it out to you.

You reach out to take it, your fingers brushing against hers for the briefest moment—a touch so light it’s almost imperceptible, yet it sends a ripple of warmth through you. The contact lingers in both of your thoughts longer than it physically lasts, and you catch the way her breath hitches slightly, the same way yours does. “Thank you, Alicent,” you say, your voice softer than before. “It means more than you know. I’ll keep it close—perhaps it’ll speed along this recovery of mine.” Your thumb brushes against the fabric of the ribbon, savoring the thoughtfulness behind the gift.

Alicent’s lips curl into a shy smile, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of relief and something else—something tender that neither of you have the words for yet. “I’m glad… if it helps even a little,” she murmurs.

Rhaenyra, ever perceptive, clears her throat pointedly, though there’s a hint of mischief in her eyes. “Well, now that you have such a fine token to aid in your recovery, brother, you’ll be back on your feet in no time. And if you do decide to take up juggling, I’ll make sure it’s the talk of the court.”

You roll your eyes at Rhaenyra’s teasing, but there’s warmth in your gaze as you turn back to Alicent. “Next time, maybe you could bring Gwayne along. I’m sure he’s been worrying just as much as you have.”

Alicent nods, still holding that shy smile. “I’ll see if he can visit soon. He’s always asking after you.”

Rhaenyra steps back, giving Alicent a pointed look before quirking an eyebrow at you. “So, shall we sit and keep you company, or do you have other princely duties to attend to from your bed?”

You can’t help but laugh at that, wincing slightly as your ribs protest. “I think I’m due for a bit of entertainment. It’s been dreadfully dull in here with nothing but Mellos’ remedies and reports from the small council. Stay—both of you.”

With that invitation, Rhaenyra finally settles into a chair near your bed, while Alicent quietly takes the seat on your other side. For a moment, a comfortable silence settles in, broken only by the crackle of the fire and the quiet sounds of the Red Keep outside your window.

But beneath that surface calm, there’s a new feeling—not unpleasant, but charged with possibilities unspoken. You and Alicent exchange brief, sidelong glances, your minds both swirling with thoughts you’re not yet ready to give voice to. And though Rhaenyra pretends to be absorbed in adjusting her skirts, you know your twin far too well to miss the satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

The morning sun filters through the stone arches of the courtyard, casting crooked shadows as you make your way through the Red Keep. The steady thunk of your cane against the cobblestones marks each step, your gait still uneven from the injury. Though you’re no longer bedridden, the limp remains, a constant reminder of the fall that nearly cost you everything. Despite this, there’s a quiet determination in your stride—strength buried beneath the calm exterior.  The deaths of your mother and brother cloak your soul and heart with grief, but you continue to go on as months drag on. Because your mother would wish for you to stay strong, you know this in your bones.

You’re just about to reach the library when you hear the low, familiar drawl of your uncle, Daemon Targaryen. “Another council meeting, and once again, your name was left unspoken,” he says, stepping out from the shadows of a nearby pillar. His silver hair gleams in the light, and there’s a sharp edge to his eyes that matches the curve of his smile—part amusement, part disdain.

You pause, turning to meet his gaze, though you remain composed, unbothered by the subtle provocation. “I’m used to it by now, uncle,” you reply, your voice even, almost indifferent. It’s not a complaint, merely a fact, a truth you’ve come to accept. The small council rarely considers your presence necessary these days, not when Otto Hightower holds sway over your father and lords like Tyland Lannister whisper about the need for more ‘stability’ in the line of succession.

Daemon’s expression darkens, his eyes narrowing. “Used to it?” he echoes, his voice dropping with barely contained irritation. “They push you aside as if you’re nothing more than an afterthought, a decoration. And you’ve grown comfortable with it?” He steps closer, the intensity in his gaze unmistakable. “You’re the king’s son, his heir, yet you let them treat you like some soft-spoken scribe, buried in books and songs while that leech Otto tightens his hold around your father’s neck.”

Your fingers tighten slightly around the cane, though your expression remains calm. You meet his eyes steadily, unflinching in the face of his scorn. “I prefer to choose my battles, uncle,” you say quietly. “Like Dallax, I know when to show my teeth. There’s no sense in snapping them at shadows.”

Daemon scoffs, a mix of exasperation and grudging respect in his tone. “Spoken like a poet, not a dragon. You should be making them fear you, not waiting for the perfect moment that may never come. They should see fire in you, boy, not this... apathy.” His frustration is clear—he’s never had patience for subtleties or caution, preferring the boldness of action over waiting in the wings.

But you don’t flinch. You’ve long learned that the fire in your blood doesn’t need to be on display at every moment. “And where did being feared get you, uncle?” you ask with a hint of amusement in your voice. “You’ve been exiled twice, alienated half the court, and have more enemies than friends. If that’s the path you think I should follow, then perhaps I should throw more reckless tournaments and provoke the lords with tales of misrule.”

Daemon’s eyes flash, though there’s a hint of grudging admiration beneath the irritation. “Perhaps I’ve made mistakes, but at least I act. I don’t hide behind patience while others pull the strings. You speak of showing your teeth when the time is right, but when will that time come? When Otto’s scheming has woven its webs so thick that there’s no air left to breathe?”

You give a small, knowing smile. “You mistake stillness for inaction. Even a dragon rests before it strikes.” Then, with a touch of humor, you add, “And besides, Dallax may have thrown me, but I landed well enough.”

That draws a snort from Daemon. “Landed, yes. With a leg that’ll remind you of it every day.” Despite his harsh words, there’s a glimmer of reluctant approval in his eyes. “But you’ve got a point—Dallax hasn’t eaten you yet, so perhaps you’ve earned a measure of respect. Just don’t think that quiet strategy will protect you forever. Sooner or later, you’ll need to show them who you are, nephew. And when you do, make sure they remember it.”

You nod slightly, letting the words hang between you for a moment before you turn away, your pace deliberate as you resume your walk. “I’ll keep that in mind, uncle,” you call over your shoulder, a hint of dry humor lacing your tone. “Perhaps one day, we’ll both show them our teeth together—when it truly matters.”

Daemon watches you go, his eyes lingering on your form as you disappear into the corridors. Despite the tension, there’s an unspoken understanding between you. You both know that fire is not always meant to be unleashed at every provocation—it can burn hotter when contained, waiting for the moment to strike with devastating precision.

But for now, you choose patience, aware that when the time comes, it will be all the more powerful for having been held in check. As you leave your uncle behind, a small, satisfied smile touches your lips. You know your strength, and you’ll reveal it when it’s most needed—not before.

The fire crackles quietly in the small chamber as Alicent sits across from her father, Otto Hightower. The room is dimly lit by the glow of the hearth, and the air feels heavy with unspoken tension. Otto’s eyes are fixed on his daughter, sharp and calculating, as he recounts the events of the recent small council meeting.

“The council remains divided,” he begins, his tone measured. “The matter of succession is still a delicate topic, but it’s clear that the King will not remain unmarried for long. The realm demands stability, and he knows it.”

Alicent’s brow furrows, her head snapping up at the implication in her father’s words. “Father, you can’t possibly be suggesting—”

Otto’s gaze remains steady, unyielding. “I’m not suggesting, Alicent. I’m stating a reality. The King is vulnerable, grieving, and the pressure of the realm weighs heavily on him. It’s only a matter of time before he considers remarriage, and when he does, you must be ready.”

Alicent’s expression hardens, a rare defiance flickering in her eyes. “I won’t do it,” she says firmly, though there’s a tremor beneath her voice. “I won’t be used like this.”

Otto’s patience visibly thins, a tightness forming around his mouth. “Is this about the Prince?” he asks, his voice edged with irritation. “You’ve grown fond of him, haven’t you? You think that because he’s been kind to you, that he’s somehow different, somehow worthy of your loyalty?”

Alicent shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers twisting in her lap as she struggles to find the right words. “He is different,” she insists, though her voice is quieter now. “Y/N is the heir, Father. He’s kind, thoughtful, and gentle in ways that others aren’t. He doesn’t play these games like the rest of them do.”

Otto’s expression tightens, his frustration barely masked. “The boy is reckless,” he snaps, his tone cutting through her protest. “Too much like Daemon, whether you see it or not. He flies that dragon of his in dangerous stunts to impress the smallfolk, and he’s already alienated half the council with his indifference to their politics. You think kindness will make him a strong king? He’s more likely to lead the realm into chaos than rule it with a steady hand.”

Alicent’s chest tightens, anger flaring in her eyes. “He’s not Daemon!” she retorts, her voice stronger this time. “He’s nothing like him. Y/N has a heart that Daemon lacks, and he cares deeply for those close to him. You only see what you want to see because it fits your plans.”

Otto’s eyes narrow, his patience worn thin. “And you see him through the lens of a girl smitten by his gentle words and kind gestures. You think he’ll protect you from the harsh realities of court, but you’re wrong, Alicent. This isn’t about what you want—it’s about what the realm needs. The King’s decision must be guided carefully, and you will play your part.”

Alicent’s heart races, her throat tightening with a mixture of fear and resentment. She knows there’s little room for argument when her father takes this tone. “I won’t betray him,” she whispers, her resolve wavering under the weight of her father’s expectations.

Otto leans forward, his gaze intense. “You’re not betraying him, you’re securing your future—and the future of our house. You will do what’s necessary when the time comes. The King’s affections can be swayed, and when they are, you must be there. You’re a clever girl, Alicent. Don’t let emotions cloud your judgment. Remember, loyalty to your house comes first.”

She lowers her gaze, the firelight casting shadows across her face. The thought of maneuvering against someone she’s grown to care for—a young man who has only ever shown her kindness—makes her stomach twist with guilt. But Otto’s expectations press down like a vice, and she knows all too well the consequences of disobedience.

“Prepare yourself,” Otto says, his voice softer now but no less commanding. “When I give the word, you must be ready to act.”

Alicent swallows, her resolve crumbling beneath the weight of her father’s will. She nods, unable to muster more than that, her mind churning with conflicted thoughts as she tries to reconcile the path being laid out before her. Her heart aches with the burden of what she knows may come—sacrificing her desires for the sake of duty.

As the conversation falls into a tense silence, the crackling of the fire is the only sound that remains.

The Red Keep is quiet in the late afternoon, the golden light of the setting sun casting shadows through the stone corridors. You walk with only a slight hitch in your step now, the limp almost entirely gone after months of healing. It’s a small victory, but one that fills you with a new sense of freedom, a reminder that you’ve come through the worst of it. Yet, as you round the corner into one of the smaller courtyards, the sight that meets you sends a jolt of concern straight through your chest.

Alicent is seated on a stone bench beneath a tall tree, her shoulders trembling with barely contained sobs. Her hands cover her face, and even from a distance, you can hear the quiet, heart-wrenching sounds of her crying. It’s a rare thing to see her like this; Alicent is usually so composed, so careful in maintaining the image of poise that’s expected of her. But here, alone—or so she thought—she’s unraveling.

Without a second thought, you approach her, the concern plain in your eyes. “Alicent,” you call softly, your voice gentle, almost hesitant as you close the distance between you. She startles slightly at the sound of your voice, quickly wiping at her tears in a futile attempt to regain her composure. But it’s clear that the floodgates have already opened, and there’s no hiding the raw emotion in her eyes.

“Y/N,” she manages, her voice catching as she forces a tremulous smile. “I didn’t think anyone would be here…”

You kneel down in front of her, ignoring the twinge of discomfort in your leg. “What’s happened?” you ask, your voice full of warmth and concern. “You’re crying, Alicent. Talk to me. What’s troubling you?”

For a moment, she can’t meet your eyes, her hands clenching in her lap as she struggles to hold back more tears. But when she finally looks at you, the anguish in her gaze cuts straight to your heart. “It’s my father,” she whispers, her voice trembling with the weight of her confession. “He’s… he’s been instructing me, pushing me to get close to the King. He… he wants me to…” Her words trail off as a fresh wave of tears spills down her cheeks. “I don’t want to do it. I don’t want to be a pawn in his games.”

Your expression softens even further as you take in the depth of her distress. Without hesitation, you reach out and gently cup her cheek, wiping away her tears with the pad of your thumb. “You’re not a pawn,” you murmur, your voice low and steady, infused with a tenderness that you reserve only for her. “You’re Alicent—kind, thoughtful, more than any of these schemes or plots.”

She closes her eyes at your touch, leaning into the comfort you offer, as if drawing strength from your presence. “But what choice do I have?” she whispers, her voice cracking. “He’s my father. If I don’t do as he asks, I’ll be seen as disobedient… or worse. I feel trapped, Y/N, and I hate it. I hate how helpless I feel.”

The fierce protectiveness that surges through you is almost overwhelming. You lean in closer, your other hand finding hers and holding it firmly, grounding her. “You’re not helpless,” you say with quiet determination. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you. You have my word, Alicent. No matter what schemes your father or anyone else tries to weave, I’ll be there. You’re not alone in this.”

Her eyes snap open at your words, searching your face for any hint of doubt, but all she finds is unwavering sincerity. There’s a softness in your gaze that she’s come to rely on, a steadiness that offers her a sense of safety she’s found nowhere else. “But how can you protect me from all of this?” she asks, her voice laced with desperation. “You can’t control what the King decides, or what my father pushes me to do.”

You smile, a gentle curve of your lips that holds both reassurance and quiet confidence. “Perhaps I can’t change everything,” you admit, your thumb still brushing away her tears. “But I can stand by you. I can make sure you don’t have to face any of this alone. And if they try to force your hand, they’ll have to deal with me first.”

Her breath catches at the intensity of your words, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you, the weight of courtly duties and schemes fading into the background. She clings to your hand, drawing strength from the way your fingers entwine with hers. “Thank you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “You don’t know how much it means to hear that.”

You squeeze her hand gently, offering a small but genuine smile. “You deserve to be happy, Alicent, not burdened with all these games. Whatever happens, you have a choice—and I’ll be here, no matter what.”

There’s a long pause as she looks at you, her heart in her eyes. It’s a look that speaks of more than just gratitude; it’s a mixture of emotions that neither of you can quite name yet, a deepening connection that lingers just beneath the surface. “I believe you,” she says softly, her voice steadying at last.

For a moment longer, you stay there, kneeling in front of her, your presence a quiet but steadfast comfort. The world outside the courtyard feels distant, irrelevant. Here, in this quiet corner of the Red Keep, the schemes and pressures of power seem to hold no sway.

As you help her rise to her feet, your hand still holding hers, you can see a spark of resolve returning to her eyes. “You are not alone,” you tell her, a promise wrapped in those simple words.

And for the first time in what feels like ages, Alicent allows herself to hope that she won’t be swallowed by the games of court—that, with you by her side, she might find a way to reclaim her own path amidst the chaos.

The council chamber is as it always is—filled with tension and the murmur of hushed conversations as lords and advisors deliberate the future of the realm. The lords gathered around the table speak in low voices, with Otto Hightower presiding over the meeting with his usual composed authority. Viserys, looking more weary than ever, listens half-heartedly as discussions about trade routes and tax levies dominate the conversation. Rhaenyra stands off to the side, holding the wine jug as she fulfills her role as cupbearer, her expression one of faint boredom—until the door suddenly creaks open.

All heads turn as you stride into the chamber, unannounced, your cane in hand though you walk with almost no noticeable limp. The lords freeze in surprise, the very air growing still as you make your way directly to your seat at the council table. Your presence is commanding, purposeful, as if you’ve planned this moment down to the finest detail. Rhaenyra’s eyes gleam with amusement as she watches from the sidelines, a smirk curling her lips—she’s the only one in the room not taken aback by your unexpected arrival.

The council members shift uncomfortably in their seats, unsure how to respond. Otto Hightower is the first to speak, his voice laced with thinly veiled irritation. “Your Grace, this is most inappropriate. You were not summoned—”

You cut him off sharply, your gaze piercing as it sweeps across the table. “And it is most inappropriate that I have not been summoned to these talks,” you say coolly, your tone brooking no argument. “I am the heir to the throne, yet it seems my presence is no longer deemed necessary while decisions are made that affect my future and that of this realm.”

Viserys opens his mouth to intercede, but you raise a hand, your eyes never leaving Otto’s. “Save your apologies, Father,” you continue, your voice growing firmer. “This is not a matter of oversight or courtesy. It’s a matter of respect—respect that has been slowly eroding while certain parties here conspire to keep me in the dark.”

Beesbury and Tyland exchange nervous glances, both lords visibly shifting in their seats. The weight of your accusation hangs in the air like a blade, unspoken but understood by all. Otto, however, remains collected, though there’s a glimmer of annoyance in his eyes. “No one seeks to replace you, Prince Y/N,” Viserys says, attempting to smooth over the tension. “You are my son, and my heir. There is no question about that.”

You scoff, your gaze now locked onto Otto with unyielding intensity. “Is that so?” you reply, your voice laced with challenge. “Forgive me if I find that hard to believe when whispers circulate through the court, and when my own seat at this table has been deliberately left empty.” Your gaze flickers briefly to Beesbury and Tyland, who both quickly avert their eyes, before returning to Otto. “I know about the talks. I know about the concerns for the continuation of the Targaryen bloodline. If that is what worries this council so deeply, then perhaps it is time I address it myself.”

The room goes utterly silent, every lord and advisor hanging onto your next words. Viserys looks puzzled, while Rhaenyra’s smirk widens, her eyes alight with curiosity and pride. “What are you saying?” Viserys asks, trying to understand where this is leading.

You straighten in your chair, your voice clear and decisive as you deliver your next statement. “I have decided that I will marry.”

The words drop like a stone into a still pond, sending ripples of shock through the room. Viserys’s eyes widen in surprise, while several of the lords exchange stunned looks. Even Rhaenyra, though aware of your intentions, seems momentarily caught off guard by how bluntly you’ve declared it. But the greatest reaction comes from Otto Hightower, who immediately tenses, his carefully constructed mask of composure slipping just slightly.

“Marry?” Otto repeats, disbelief tinging his voice. “Your Grace, this is a most sudden decision—”

“Sudden, perhaps,” you say, cutting him off again, “but necessary. If the continuation of the Targaryen line is such a concern, then I will see to it myself. And I already know who I intend to wed.”

The room waits with bated breath, every eye fixed on you as you pause for dramatic effect. Then, with absolute certainty, you deliver the bombshell: “I will marry Lady Alicent Hightower.”

A shocked silence follows, broken only by the sound of Otto’s breath catching in his throat. The lords gape, disbelief etched into their faces, and Viserys’s eyes widen in surprise, a mix of confusion and relief crossing his features. But it is Otto whose reaction is most striking—his face blanches, a rare display of genuine shock. “This is…” he begins, clearly scrambling for control, “This is not—”

You turn to him, your expression hardening, your voice cold and edged. “Are you offended, Lord Hand?” you ask pointedly. “That your daughter would one day be Queen? Is this not the very opportunity you’ve sought?”

Otto’s mouth opens, but no words come out as he searches for a response. You can see him weighing his options, assessing whether to push back or accept the twist of fate you’ve thrown at him. Before he can gather his wits, Corlys Velaryon’s deep voice rumbles through the chamber, breaking the silence.

“If Lord Hightower finds this match disagreeable, perhaps the Prince would consider my daughter, Laena, instead. The blood of Old Valyria would be preserved, and such a union would strengthen House Targaryen’s ties with the Velaryons.”

You hold back a smile at Corlys’s calculated offer, knowing full well that he’s taking advantage of Otto’s moment of hesitation. Otto’s eyes narrow at Corlys’s interjection, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he realizes he’s being cornered. Backing down would mean missing out on the very outcome he’s been subtly maneuvering toward, even if it wasn’t quite in the manner he’d intended.

After a long moment, Otto exhales slowly, carefully regaining his composure. “Of course, Your Grace,” he finally says, his tone clipped but respectful. “I… only wish for what is best for both you and the realm. If this is your decision, then I will see to it that the arrangements are made.”

You nod, satisfied, as you see the acceptance in his eyes. “Good,” you reply, your voice firm and unyielding. “Because I have no intention of letting anyone else dictate the future of this house. The realm needs strength, unity, and continuity, and I will see that it is achieved—on my terms.”

The council members exchange uneasy glances, realizing that they’ve just witnessed a pivotal shift in the dynamics of power within the Red Keep. Rhaenyra’s smirk remains, her eyes gleaming with admiration as she watches you assert your authority, while Viserys seems both relieved and unsettled by your newfound determination.

As the meeting continues, there’s no doubt left in anyone’s mind—you are no longer the sidelined prince. You are a force to be reckoned with, and the council now understands that you will not be ignored or underestimated.

The sun filters softly through the arched windows of the Red Keep, casting warm golden light over the ladies of the court as they gather in one of the sewing chambers. The room is filled with the gentle murmur of idle conversation, the sound of thread sliding through fabric, and the occasional soft laugh. Alicent sits among them, her focus on the delicate embroidery she’s working on. Her hands move with practiced grace, though her thoughts are distant, lingering on the conversation she had with her father and the weight of the expectations he’s placed on her.

She’s lost in her thoughts when a familiar figure bursts into the room with the energy of a brewing storm. Rhaenyra sweeps into the chamber, her eyes scanning the room until they land on Alicent. The princess’s expression is one of unbridled excitement, a grin wide and mischievous spreading across her face. “Alicent!” she calls out, her voice ringing with barely contained glee.

The ladies of the court look up from their work, startled by the princess’s sudden entrance. Alicent rises from her seat, her brow furrowing in confusion as she sets aside her embroidery. “Rhaenyra,” she says warmly, though with a hint of uncertainty. “What’s gotten into you? You look like a dragon who’s caught a sheep.”

Rhaenyra steps closer, her grin widening as she takes Alicent’s hands in her own. “I wanted to be the first to congratulate you,” she says, her eyes alight with barely restrained amusement.

Alicent blinks, bewilderment etched across her delicate features. “Congratulate me?” she repeats, glancing around at the other ladies, who are now watching the exchange with rapt attention. “I don’t understand—what are you talking about?”

Rhaenyra leans in, dropping her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, though loud enough for the other ladies to hear and exchange curious glances. “You don’t know? Oh, Alicent, you’re going to be married.”

The world seems to tilt for Alicent, her breath catching in her throat as her heart pounds wildly in her chest. “Married?” she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper. “What… what do you mean? To whom?”

Rhaenyra’s grin softens into something more sincere as she watches the realization dawn on Alicent’s face. “To my brother, of course. Y/N announced it himself in the council meeting not half an hour ago. He declared that he’s decided to marry you.”

For a moment, the room seems to spin, the words hitting Alicent like a physical blow. Her chest tightens, and she feels a flush rise up her neck as her mind races to catch up with what she’s just heard. “He… he said that?” she asks, her voice trembling with a mixture of shock, disbelief, and something else—something that makes her heart skip a beat.

Rhaenyra nods, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she squeezes Alicent’s hands. “He did. Right there in front of everyone. You should have seen the look on Father’s face—he was stunned, and Otto nearly choked on his own breath. And you know what’s even better? He said it with such certainty, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He’s chosen you, Alicent. You’re going to be a queen one day.”

Alicent’s legs feel weak beneath her as the gravity of the situation sinks in. Her mind flashes back to the conversation with her father, to the pressure and expectations, to the fear that she would be forced into a match she had no say in. But this—this is something entirely different. Y/N chose her. Not because of Otto’s schemes or because it was expected, but because he decided it. The thought is overwhelming, both terrifying and thrilling all at once.

She struggles to find her voice, her emotions swirling in a chaotic mix of disbelief, gratitude, and apprehension. “I… I never imagined…” she stammers, unable to form a coherent sentence as she tries to process what this means for her.

Rhaenyra’s expression softens as she sees the turmoil in Alicent’s eyes. “You’re shaking,” she says gently, releasing one of Alicent’s hands to brush a stray tear from her friend’s cheek. “I know it’s a lot to take in, but you should have seen the way he spoke about it. He was so resolute, so determined. And you—you deserve this happiness, Alicent. You deserve someone who sees you as more than just a tool in their schemes.”

Alicent’s breath shudders as she tries to regain control of her racing thoughts. “But what if… what if this is just another game? What if he’s being pushed into this?” she whispers, her voice laced with fear and doubt.

Rhaenyra shakes her head, her expression turning fierce. “No. This isn’t like that. My brother’s no fool, and he’s not one to be forced into anything he doesn’t want. This was his choice, and I think it’s about time someone reminded the court that he’s more than capable of making his own decisions.” Her grin returns, wry and full of pride. “And besides, I think you know him better than anyone else. You’ve seen how he looks at you.”

Alicent’s eyes widen, and a fresh flush colors her cheeks. She’s known for some time that there’s been an unspoken connection between her and Y/N, but she never dared to hope it would lead to something so monumental. The thought of being his wife, of standing beside him as queen—it’s as daunting as it is exhilarating.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” she finally manages, her voice thick with emotion.

Rhaenyra’s smile softens into something more tender as she pulls Alicent into a warm embrace. “Then don’t say anything yet. Let it sink in. But know this—you’re not alone, Alicent. You have me, and you have him. And now, you have a future that’s yours to shape.”

As they part, the ladies of the court begin whispering excitedly among themselves, the news spreading like wildfire through the chamber. But Alicent barely notices, her mind still spinning as she tries to grasp the enormity of what’s just been revealed. For better or worse, everything has changed in the span of a single afternoon.

And somewhere deep in her heart, beneath the fear and uncertainty, a flicker of hope begins to bloom.

The sound of your boots echoes as you step into the Dragonpit, each footfall deliberate and heavy against the ancient stone floor. The cavernous space looms around you, darkened by shadows cast by the great arches above, yet the air hums with the presence of power—dragons and their keepers. You wear a deep, crimson coat embroidered with silver thread in the pattern of coiling dragons, the rich fabric tailored perfectly to your frame. Beneath it, your tunic is a dark charcoal, cinched at the waist by a wide leather belt, and black riding gloves encase your hands. Your hair, a cascade of silver, is tied back in a loose knot, allowing a few strands to catch the breeze. The light armor you wear, adorned with the sigil of House Targaryen, adds an edge of battle-readiness to your regal attire. Today is not merely for show—it’s a declaration of your return to the skies.

The Dragonkeepers, clad in leather armor and bearing the scars of long service to the dragons, bow slightly as you approach. Their deference is not out of fear, but out of respect for what is to come. With a silent nod from their leader, they move aside to reveal the imposing silhouette of your dragon.

Dallax emerges from the shadows, his massive form a study in sleek, predatory grace. His scales are a deep, inky black that gleams like polished obsidian under the faint light. Unlike most dragons, his eyes are not the usual shade of fire-yellow; they are a striking, luminescent green, gleaming with intelligence and an almost unsettling awareness. His pupils narrow to slits as he focuses on you, a low rumble vibrating through his chest. His body is built for agility and speed, lean but powerful, every muscle coiled and ready to strike. But it’s his teeth that make him most unique—when he’s calm, they are hidden away, retracting into his jaw, giving him a deceptively benign appearance. But you know better; when agitated or in the heat of battle, those teeth emerge like rows of daggers, sharp and menacing. It’s no wonder Rhaenyra affectionately calls him “Toothless” when she’s in a playful mood.

You take in the sight of him, a thrill running through your veins. It’s been months since you last mounted him, but the bond between you remains unshaken, as if it were a living thing forged in fire and blood. Dallax’s eyes meet yours, and in that moment, the unspoken understanding passes between dragon and rider. He has waited, patient but eager, for this moment as much as you have.

The Dragonkeepers pull back as you stride forward, your limp almost unnoticeable now, a testament to the months of recovery you’ve endured. With a firm hand, you reach up and grasp the saddle harness, your fingers gripping the familiar leather. In one smooth motion, you pull yourself up and swing your leg over Dallax’s back. You settle into the saddle, feeling the comforting weight of the straps as you secure yourself. Dallax shifts beneath you, his wings unfurling slightly, the dark membrane stretching wide, catching the breeze as if testing the air.

You take a deep breath, the scent of leather, smoke, and ancient stone filling your senses. “Fly,” you whisper in High Valyrian, a command and a plea all at once.

With a growl that vibrates through his entire frame, Dallax lowers himself briefly before launching into the air with a powerful surge of muscle. The ground falls away beneath you as his wings beat with precision, each stroke lifting you higher until the walls of the Dragonpit are a blur. The rush of wind tears at your hair, your coat billowing behind you like a banner as Dallax ascends into the open sky.

As you break free into the sunlight, the city of King’s Landing sprawls out below, the rooftops and winding streets glinting in the late afternoon light. Dallax roars—a sound both thrilling and terrifying—as he soars above the Red Keep, his shadow sweeping across the stone battlements like a predator stalking its prey.

From her chambers, Alicent stands by the window, her eyes fixed on the sky as she watches you fly. Her hands are clasped in front of her, a mixture of awe and fondness in her expression as she traces your flight path. You cut through the clouds with an effortless grace, Dallax responding to every shift of your body as if you are one being. For the first time in what feels like ages, there’s no tension in Alicent’s shoulders, only the quiet joy of seeing you in your element—free and commanding, a true Targaryen heir.

Behind her, Otto Hightower steps forward, his expression a mix of calculation and displeasure. He watches silently for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he observes the ease with which you handle your dragon, the majesty of it undeniable. “He’s just like his uncle,” Otto mutters, more to himself than to Alicent. “All fire and pride—reckless.”

Alicent doesn’t turn to face her father, but her smile lingers, soft and secret. “Perhaps,” she replies, her voice distant, her gaze still following your every move. “But there is more to him than you see, Father.”

Otto’s mouth tightens into a thin line, but he says nothing more, turning away from the window. To him, dragons are dangerous, unpredictable forces that must be controlled. But to you, they are freedom itself—a reminder that no matter how thick the walls of the Red Keep or how intricate the webs of intrigue, you are a dragonrider first and foremost, and no one can cage that fire.

As you guide Dallax into a steep dive, pulling up at the last moment to skim over the rooftops of the city, you feel a deep, exhilarating rush. The wind in your face, the roar of your dragon, and the vast sky stretched out before you—it’s a sensation unmatched by anything else, a reminder that the world is yours to claim, one way or another.

You circle back toward the Red Keep, allowing Dallax to level out and glide effortlessly. From below, you see Alicent at the window, her face turned upward, her smile radiant and full of something unspoken—pride, affection, and hope. For a brief moment, you dip your wings in her direction, a silent acknowledgment that she sees you for who you are, beyond the politics and the expectations.

[binniesbooks]

• YOU DON'T WANT HIM TO KNOW, DO YOU?

SB 000 .F23 2024

wc 4k

pairings brother'sbestfriend!Soobin x fem!reader

warnings lot of curses, mouth to mouth passing of liquid, making out, oral sex, slight somno, degradation, protected sex, pet names, dom!soobin (idk what else did I miss)

faye's note I saw Soobin's ig post last night and the cogs and wheels of my brain started working lmao. But I wasn't able to post it immediately because of power interruption, it sucks. Tsk. Anyway, hope you enjoy this! Oh, btw, fuck Tumblr for messing it up again agh!

You had known Soobin for years now. He was your brother's best friend, the kind of guy who was always around, cracking jokes and lending a hand in whatever task you were working on. Soobin has been the most gentle person you've ever met, or so you thought.

But lately, things have shifted. You found yourself drawn to him in a way that was more than just friendship, a stirring attraction that you couldn’t seem to shake. Soobin is not that dumb to not know and knew how to connect the dots.

From the way you welcomed him even if his best friend was not around, the way you gave him water or food, the gazes he could feel you were throwing at him even if his back was turned to you, the lingering touches you were giving with simple grazes of fingers, the way you changed your hairstyle to a high ponytail, the way you kept on using thin clothes whenever he was around and the way you join them whenever they are playing because you never did these things before.

On your brother's birthday, the three of you had been hanging out in your brother's house. Laughter echoed through the rooms, and the smell of barbecue wafted from the backyard where your brother was busy grilling. The moment felt all too ordinary, yet sparkles of tension crackled between Soobin and you when you found yourselves alone in the living room, the rest of the world felt like it was fading away.

The air thickened with unspoken words as you sat close, the TV flickering in front of you. Soobin was just as aware of the shift, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, his usual carefree demeanor replaced with something more serious.

Your heart raced as your knees brushed against each other, a simple contact that sent electricity coursing through you.“Do you think he’ll be done soon?” you asked, trying to lighten the moment as you rocked yourself back and forth, but your voice trembled slightly.“Who, your brother? He loves taking his time,” Soobin replied with a smirk, but his gaze lingered on your lips for a moment too long.

"I'm done grilling, let's start drinking!" your brother announced as he marched with the container of barbeque in his hand.

The night passed with your brother's blabbering and boasting about things, like how he managed to raise you alone even when it's just the two of you, how he takes care of you and he doesn't want you to be taken by a man who didn't treat you with respect. You throw a few more glances at Soobin who's just sitting across you, and you can tell he's staring at you as well with the simple grins he shows whenever your eyes meet.

Your brother is most likely the kind of guy who can't handle his liquor, Soobin does handle his oddly fine, enough to stay conscious and aware of his surroundings. Aside from the bit of redness on his cheek and ears, you couldn't tell he was tipsy.

"He's out." You muttered as you stared at your brother snoring with his cheek pressed on the table, causing Soobin to snort as he poured the remaining alcohol into his glass. It's almost two in the morning.

"Can you carry him to the couch? I'll grab his blanket and pillows," you said dusting your shorts from anything you have sat on. Soobin just simply nodded.

"Stop staring, you'll end up making a cave in my head." You can feel how he's watching you behind your back as you are tucking your brother to sleep. Giving him pillows for him to sleep comfortably at least.

"Y/n," Soobin called the moment you're done. You replied with a simple "Hmm?" as you started to pick up the bottles, glasses, and plates cluttered around the table.

You turned your head to him when you did not hear him answer. He's sitting on one of the couches across the one you're brother was sleeping on, your eyes meet, the ends of his lips curving up.

"Have you tried drinking?" he asked, swirling the liquor in the glass he was holding. "I haven't. I wanna try though, I'm already beyond my legal age. But this asshole brother of mine does not want me to do so." You pouted as you jokingly raised the bottle you were holding to hit your sleeping brother.

"Your brother does seem to care for you so much." He grins once again, sipping on the alcohol.

"Why, of course. I'm his only family." You say as you sit at the armrest of the couch where your brother sleeps.

"Say, have you broken any of his rules?" he asked, running his hand through his hair. You nodded, causing his plump lips to stretch a bit.

You looked at your sleeping brother, "He used to tell me not to go out at night, but well, sometimes I sneak out, to be with my friends." You chuckled as you bit your lip. "Please don't tell him." You looked back at Soobin again. "Anything else?" He tilted his head to the side, still staring at you. "I...I was told not to be too close or friendly to other guys. He also told me not to like any of his friends because they're total assholes." Your voice slowly becomes faint as you fidget with your fingers.

The clink of glass he picked up on the table made you realize you were straight-out confessing, to one of his friends. You snapped back to him, "I-i mean..." You were out of words as you stared at his mused expression. Scared that he might tell your brother. You're screwed.

"Come here," he motions you to come in front of him. "You don't want me to tell this to him, is that right?" You nodded, embarrassed at what you've said and done. "Only if you do me one thing." He leaned back to the couch he was sitting on, his hand once again running through his hair. "That is...?"

"That is if you break one more damn rule of your brother. For me." He smiled at you, purposely pausing, emphasizing the last two words."I... I'll do it." He feels you're desperate as he watches you ball your fist while he can hear your thumping heart in the dead of night.

"Sit here." He tapped the space beside him as he picked up his glass of alcohol once again, his face painted with pure amusement. Just like being bewitched, you obeyed, sitting beside him.

He places his hand on the space behind you, "Pft, you're so tensed," he snickers. "One more rule, yeah?" He inquired, bringing his face closer to yours. "One..one more. Just one only..." You confirmed voice barely above a whisper.

He sipped on his glass as he held and tilted your face towards his. You breathed, gripping the couch to steady yourself. In an uncharacteristically bold move, Soobin closed the gap between you. You were too stunned to push him away. Hell, you liked it too much you couldn't push him away. He brushed his thumb on your lower lips before pressing his lips on yours, slowly letting the liquid flow out from his mouth to yours. That was it—the final push you needed. Maybe it was the fear you felt that he might tell your brother about your secrets or him being the reason you're breaking the rule, but at that moment, you wanted to break every unspoken rule. You parted your lips, you loved the taste, either his lips or the liquor, you don't know anymore. You place your hand on his chest ultimately clutching on his button-up shirt. His lips danced skillfully on yours, the liquid escaping, dripping to your chin.

He pulled away for a bit to look at you. Only to see you drooling as you look up at him with your hands tightly clutched on his button-up. "More... Please." his smile widened at you begging. "Greedy little girl, aren't you?" You lean unto his hand that is gently caressing your cheek. "Please.." you begged once more. He chugged the remaining liquor in his glass as he held your nape, crashing his lips on yours a little bit harder than last time, his other hand flew up your neck, feeling how you slowly gulped on the liquor mixed with his spit, he gently squeezed your neck, emitting a soft gasp from you as you sightly opened your mouth. He wasted no time shoving his tongue into your throat, practically making the dirtiest and nastiest kiss you've ever experienced.

You rubbed your thighs when he gently pulled at your hair, he's rough yet gentle. He's aggressive but careful. How ironic. You know this is wrong. You're kissing-- no you are making out with one of your brother's best friends, who was sleeping in front of you.

"You like this, don't you?" He taunted as he pulled your hair once more. It takes everything in you to not scream out in pleasure. His lips captured yours once more in a fervent kiss that ignited a wildfire within you. You melted into him, the taste of anticipation on your tongue, the weight of what you were doing fueling the heat of the moment. The kiss deepened, and you felt yourself surrender to what was happening. You pressed your body closer to his, your connection growing more urgent. It was reckless, forbidden—everything that made your heart race. You knew the stakes: if your brother found out, you're done. Yet, that thrill, that desire to break one of your brother's rules, is pulling you closer to Soobin.

He pulled you by your hair once again, a string of saliva hanging on both of your lips, you're panting as you snap your head towards your brother. Thankfully, he's still sound asleep. You looked back at Soobin, plump lips red from the pressure and heat of the kiss. He licked his lips, "Such a good girl for me," he chuckled, his hand still on your nape. "Now, come here, we're not done yet." He stood up and grabbed you by your wrist marching towards your bedroom, turning off the light in the living room in the process. Hearts pounding, adrenaline coursing through your veins as he locked the door behind.

The moment you two stepped inside your room, your mind immediately processed what would happen. You are in your room with a boy, Soobin. Your brother's best friend. Whom you recently grew interested in. You even made out in the living room with him. He even made sure your door was locked. What makes you think this won't reach the most intimate part? There’s no doubt about it—something significant was bound to happen. Why wouldn't it? Soobin is experienced. You've heard him and your brother talk about it multiple times. How they shared the same girl, how he ended up with a one-night stand with the girl from the bar, how he made his enemy's girlfriend sneak out with him, and many more nasty things they've done.

"Climb up the bed, pumpkin." He's ordering you around again, yet you are following him without restraint. He unbuttoned his shirt as he was staring down at you sitting tensely on the bed, with your hands in between your folded thighs. You were staring up at him, eyes blown, maybe you just can't handle the shots of liquor, or maybe you're eyes were just filled with lust. He scoffed, running his hand through his hair for the nth time today. He climbed up the bed, the black piece of cloth he was wearing long discarded.

With his back pressed on the headboard, he motioned you to move closer to him. "C'mere pumpkin. I won't tell, any of your little secrets to your brother~" his voice clearly mocking you with a sing-song tone. "Can't afford to let you get screwed, anyway." You were sitting between his legs. You can't decline to anything he wants. Aside from you being scared of your brother, deep inside you, you also wanted this. You also want to break the rules just to be with Soobin.

Your eyes ran through his long legs, his dress pants comfortably hugging the lean muscles of his legs. "Your hands are pretty, you're actually creative," he was probably referring to the artworks you've been doing, "I wonder what else these pretty hands can do." He unzipped his pants as he grabbed one of your hands, placing it on his aching bulge. He rubbed himself with your hand, humming at the sensation. His other hand flew to your lips, rubbing your lower lip as he stared at your eyes filled with need. "Soft lips that give tender and sloppy kiss," he muttered, "What else can you kiss better, pumpkin, hm?" He pressed his thumb on your lip.

You scoot closer, moving your hand on its own accord as he lets go of your hand, eyes still looking at him with unfulfilled pleasure. He pushed your head down towards his bulge, "Why not try going down on me, let's see what you can do." You carefully stroke him once more within the confinement of his boxers. "Fuck. Your hands are quite good." He moaned as he gripped your wrist. You pulled his boxers to expose his girthy length. You're not bewitched, you want him. He stroke his exposed cock as he pushed you down a little bit more, making you almost kiss the base of his cock.

Your tongue prodded out, licking the base of his cock as both of your hands were holding to his legs to keep yourself steady. "Shit!" His cock pulsated as he flinched, he was unprepared. He chuckled at your quirks. "Start. Your secrets depend here." He taunted.

Your dainty fingers wrapped around his cock got him reeling. You licked the tip of his cock, it's red and it feels burning. You slowly took him in your mouth as he puffed out muffled moans and grunts. He crossed his arms behind his head, " Wondering how your brother will react if he finds out that this precious little sister of his is doing something very very naughty behind his back." You took him whole in your mouth, gag reflex kicking in. "Fuck angel, you'll be the death of me." He huffed as he tightly closed his eyes. He's restraining himself to hold you, keeping his arms behind his head.

You continuously bobbed your head with your tongue occasionally wrapping around his cock. "You're quite skilled. Have you ever done this? You don't look and act innocent at all." His grin grew wider at the thought. You pulled away, shaking your head.

"N-never... But I f-fantasize over you." You admitted. The smug look on his face becomes heavier as he lets out a mocking laugh. "Look at you acting innocent and all. Yet you have a dirty little mind." The shit-eating grin on his face looks devilish. "My little slut." You tweaked at his words. Embarrassed at where you have put yourself into. "Now don't be shy and show me who you really are, kitten." The pet names he's been calling you, you can't react to it other than getting wet. You wanted to be degraded by him. You've wanted this for so long.

You continued giving him head, " shit, you are so dirty," his light laughs makes your heart flutter, and his degrading words make your pussy clench. He started thrusting carefully in your mouth when you started moaning, the vibrations giving him extra sensation. He holds your head to stay still as he started fucking your mouth, you could tell he does not care about hurting you but his thrust was controlled, holding you as if you'll break easily, just letting the tip of his cock kiss your precious throat. "Delicious. Fucking. Mouth." He grunts at every thrust. He stilled, your mouth overflowing with his white sticky cum.

He gently pulled you on his lap, "Did you just swallow it?" He asked, his stares at you were intense. You simply nodded "I did, am I good?" You were seeking validation amidst the forbidden thing you two have done. A playful smile shined on his face, "More than good, angel." He gently lays you on his chest, and you could feel his heart thumping as if it were about to burst out of his chest.

"Rest for a while, I'll wake you up before I leave." He said as his long fingers combed your smooth hair, he hugged you tight, pulling your blanket to cover the both of you.

He was in awe, how can you possibly sleep when it's still dangerous around you? He lays you on your bed, registering in his mind how you look. His hand travels around your body, lightly squeezing your neck as you gasp in your sleep. He pushed your shirt above your chest, scoffing at the sight, did you purposely not wear a bra the whole night he was here? He lightly pinches your nipple, rolling his fingers on it, making you squirm. His eyes traveled from your chest to your waist as he hovered above you.

His warm hands enveloped your tiny waist, smiling at how it first perfectly on his huge hand. His hands moved down, gently tugging your shorts off you. "What a little mess we have here." He mumbled, staring at how your panties stuck at your cunt. The baby blue piece of cloth was drenched with your slick. He moves it sideways, prodding his middle finger in your wet pussy. He touched you achingly slow, causing his cock to twitch inside his pants.

His hot tongue finally comes in contact with your cunt. He knows that you'll wake up anytime. "Wake up, pumpkin," he mumbles while lapping on your pussy. You grunt and squirm, feeling the uncomfortably extra wetness in your cunt. Your eyes fluttered open at Soobin eating you out. Your hands immediately clutched your mouth to refrain from being noisy. His tall nose kept on touching your clit, making it more sensitive. You clutched his blond locks, pulling him closer to your cunt as you chase your high.

"I-i'm gonna cum," you whispered, voice muffled as you were almost biting your hand. His two fingers entered you freely, pressing inside, finding your sweet spot. "Let me have a taste of you, kitten," he kept on lapping and pushing his fingers in and out of you, making you shudder and grip his hair tighter as you came on his tongue. Soobin gently sucked on your clit emitting soft whimpers from you.

He hovers above you once again, his veiny hands propped on both sides, his chest rising and falling, toned abs clenching. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, bringing out a condom packet. He wraps his cock in one swift motion, as he prepares at your entrance. He penetrates slowly, grunting at how tight you feel on him, he covers your mouth, "Don't you make a noise-fuck, I'm warning you pumpkin." He stilled inside as you gasped for air, "Stay still, I won't move for a while," he muttered as he kissed your forehead.

The once dark and dead night is almost gone. The bluish color of the sky makes the surroundings a little bit easier to see. You two came to your senses when you heard a knock, then the rattling sound of the door knob. "Fuck!" You shout-whispered, pushing Soobin off of you. He pulled out, both of you immediately wincing at the pain.

"Y/n?" Your brother called you, you panicked as you stood against the door instead of lying down on your bed. "What the hell are you doing there?" Soobin's furrowed as he whispered enough for you to hear.

"Have you seen Soobin?" Your brother asked, you were about to answer when Soobin pinned you on the door.

"Hey, is everything fine? I heard a noise." The rattling sound of your doorknob can be heard once again.

You faked a yawn, "I-i'm good! I just fell from bed! Ouch!" You made your voice as sleepy and hurt as possible but ends up shaky. "You sure? Should I come in?" He asked. "No! No need! I'm fine! I'm good!" You panicked.

"W-what were you asking again?"

"I said if you saw Soobin? Or did he talk to you before leaving or something?"

You gasped when you felt something penetrate you once again.

"Fucking tight, pumpkin." Soobin was gripping your waist, penetrating you from behind. He covered your mouth.

"Y/n?" Your brother knocks again.

Your legs were wobbly, about to give up. "Answer him. But be careful, you don't want him to know, do you?" The grin of mockery is once again plastered on his face. He started thrusting in you. "Shit, what a dirty doll. Likes being taken from the back." He pinned you more on the door, no longer muffling your mouth, making you whine and whimper, you clenched on his cock.

"What the fuck? Are you turned on? Oh fuck, you're really dirty." Soobin whispered in your ear.

"Hey, y/n, if you don't answer I'm gonna break this door open." Your brother's voice is irritated.

"Answer him, doll." Soobin taunted.

"I... I did not see h-him.. mmhhh.. maybe..maybe he had gone h-home." Your voice ends up whiny. "Please s-stop banging the door, i-i'm... I'm gonna sleep some m-more.." you tried your best to answer your brother. Soobin smirked.

"Maybe he did go home, his things are in no sight. Well then, I'll just call him later, rest more, I'll go to my room my head is spinning." You heard the footsteps gone faint. That's when Soobin started thrusting a bit harder on you.

You clawed the door, face pressed on the cold wood. Taking every thrust he's giving you.

"Shit, such a dirty slut." Soobin has been gripping your waist for too long, that you're sure it will leave marks later on. You clenched at his words once again. He scoffed, "Wow, you really love being degraded?" His hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing it a little to restrain your lungs from acquiring oxygen. It makes you dizzy. Yet you love it. It makes you dizzy but you want him to cum inside you. It makes you dizzy but you crave for more.

"Good for nothing, cocksleeve." He keeps on pounding into you, bending you on the table near your door. You can't help but clench at his every word as he laughs lowly, enjoying what you two are sharing.

Your knees grew weaker. "Cum on my cock, I know you want it." He taunted. It was your last straw, "S-soobin.." you covered your mouth as you come undone, squirting all over his cock.

He bent down to your ear, licking your earlobe as he kept on pounding chasing his high once more. "Dirty. Fucking dirty. Fantasizing over her brother's best friend. Getting fucked and squirting on their cock." You wanted to cry at his words but it turns you on so much. He pulled out of you, discarding the condom and pumped his cock as he cums on your back.

He turned you around and kissed you, carrying you to the bed as he carefully laid you down. He picked up his discarded button-up shirt and wore it again.

"P-please don't tell him..." You tug at his shirt while he's buttoning it up.

"Your secrets are safe, my pretty slut." He saw how you melt at his words, he heard how you whine at his words. He pulled you for a kiss, a deep and passionate kiss. He removed something on his wrist and kissed your hand. His silver bracelet is now tied to yours, the cold metal kissing your skin makes you remember the heated moment you and Soobin shared.

You watch him peek outside your room as he steps out, tiptoeing to the front door.

@binniesbooks 2024

[nicholasluvbot]

✶ IN YOUR DREAMS, JUNG SUNGCHAN !

IN WHICH ⨳

You despise Sungchan for his seemingly effortless intelligence, charm, and annoyingly perfect looks. To make matters worse, he matches you in every academic challenge, fueling your fierce rage towards him. But beneath the surface of your competition, Sungchan harbors a secret: he’s been infatuated with you from the moment you arrived and only pretends to share your animosity.

STARRING. jung sungchan x female reader ( ft. riize + aespa , seon_uoo on ig as faceclaim )

GENRE. smau , academic rivals to lovers , grumpy x sunshine , etc.

WARNINGS. suggestive jokes , im the most unfunniest person ever , sungchan is a simp , yn has some serious issues but we're not gonna talk about those , lmk if there's more...

๑ NOTES FROM IRA !

sungchan loml. i just hope i get time to post all the chapters. i love this smau very much and im also so excited to write this! hope you enjoy it as much as i did! feedbacks + reblogs are highly appreciated. and i really want you guys to do that thing where after every chapter, yall send me asks about what you think of the characters, i really enjoy reading and replying to those.

SOUNDTRACK

CHAPTERS ᐢ..ᐢ

000. MANEATERS (EXCEPT ONE OF US HAS A BOYFRIEND) / NASTY NASTY FREAKS

001. ALL MEN ARE DOGS

002.

003.

TAGLIST _ SEND AN ASK TO BE ADDED.

@molensworld , @miyawwn , @byeonwooseokabs , @wiggledingle , @rizzkisworld , @shoberi , @seunghancore , @kyusqult , @so-lychee , @i1uvc4ke , @katarinaesqa , @dongminz , @astrae4 , @solvrse , @givemeakith , @icewons , @fae-renjun , @snowyseungs , @p-d1ddy , @jaexiyu , @urlovelily , @ffixtionista , @cherrytaesan , @eternalgyu , @wonychu , @hisrkive , @renjuneoo , @myuiwi , @billiondollarworth , @mokkaamo , @saranghoeforanton , @pinklemonade34 , @dalsosapple ,

[cacaocheri]

comic i don’t think ill ever finish about why sun might be nervous around new daycare employees :000

BAASICALLY i don’t think sun is super possessive about his job. if you’ve worked in childcare, you would understand the importance of diversity and how kids need variety with their caretakers. some kids like to play soccer. some kids like to draw. some kids like to spend time by themselves. one singular person isn’t capable of providing all that, which is why you hire all sorts of employees that think differently than one another! one person to handle the arts and crafts, another to handle the games, etc. 

sun would understand this!!! and welcome new employees!!! because oh boy new friends, but also new friends for THE KIDS!!!!!!! even if sun could handle all the daycare activities on his own, i think he would understand that some kids just need different things. not every kid is going to like sun. some might even be scared of him, which is why you have other workers! the kids can feel safe in that environment because they don’t have just ONE authority figure to go to

essentially, i think sun would GLADLY welcome new employees into the daycare, not because he needs them, but because the children do (sun is the type of guy to always be thinking about what’s best for the children yknow)

i DO, however, think that it’s possible for sun to be super nervous around daycare attendants because they are kind of creeped out by him. like he wants to make good impressions but none of them really like him :(((

so when a new staff comes in, its a mixture of “oh boy new friend” and “Oh Frick I Better Not Screw This Up”

i hope y’all enjoyed my analysis for those who decided to read under the cut

[taeyegu]

confession is not flashy — 000. character introductions

previous // next

author's note — oh my it's been awhile but i'm happy to be back and with the maknae line <3 please note that i love chan but him and mingyu are just so easy to bully (lovingly ofc) i hope you all enjoy and please don't forget to like, comment, and reblog! every interaction means the most to me!!

svt hospital — medical school interns

intern y/l/n y/n — medical school intern who is best friends with boo seungkwan, chwe vernon, and lee chan. has always dreamed of becoming a doctor since a young age. parents worry about them not finding a relationship since all their time is dedicated to school and work.

intern lee chan — medical school intern who is best friends with boo seungkwan, chwe vernon, and y/l/n y/n. has has a massive crush on y/n ever since they met during their first semester at medical school. is very obvious with his feelings (everyone in the hospital can see) but y/n is just too oblivious to see!

intern boo seungkwan — medical school intern who is best friends with chwe vernon, lee chan, and y/l/n y/n. is always teasing chan about his feelings for y/n but is secretly his biggest supporter. he is a consistent member of dr. moon junhui's gossip sessions as he provides the doctors with information about the other interns.

intern chwe vernon — medical school intern who is best friends with boo seungkwan, lee chan, and y/l/n y/n. also bullies chan about his crush on y/n but is his biggest supporter #2. is the most sane one out of the interns but also has his "breaking the fourth wall" moments at the hospital.

[aquaquadrant]

grbbrgrr. scurries toward you. I offer thee pathbubs fluff, fresh from my mind fortress.

Patho. falling asleep with dbubs’s clock to his ear.

gives you a cupcake skitters away

(offering received, considered, and accepted. however, i have substituted your fluff for angst. i hope this is satisfactory.)

~*~

"watch this!" dbubs shouts, before leaping off the cliff into the water below.

<player>dat -7063fdce-39ac-4a12-d836-a990c45b2bb0

patho leans back just enough to avoid being splashed. the water in this jungle lagoon is clear and blue, brighter than most bodies of water he comes across. tall, thick trees surround them on all sides, creating a natural barrier from the mobs of the jungle. it’s a beautiful place, and one of his favorites to visit when he’s here.

155 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 17/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 28 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -12,683.952 / 39.11563 / 253,589.263 block: -12,683 39 253,589 chunk: -791 15 7,849 facing: south (towards positive z)(1.5/5) client light: 6 (0 sky, 6 block) biome: error:crimson jungle local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 16/247 + 0/8

dbubs surfaces with a gasp, his wet bangs plastered to his forehead. “did you see that?” he crows. “that was- i must’ve done a- a complete 360 spin about five- no, ten times! world record, first try!”

“oh, yeah,” patho agrees with a smile he doesn’t feel. “yeah, that was very impressive.”

they’re almost out of time.

patho has known this since he woke to find a little weeping vine attempting to burrow into his arm, right at the seam where flesh meets metal. this is an event that only happens when he’s overstayed his welcome, and the jungle can no longer tolerate his presence without trying to claim him. that vine was easily removed, putting off the inevitable for a few more days. but he can’t ignore the sudden restlessness that overtakes him now, a buzzing in his very core that fills his mind with static and his limbs- organic and mechanical alike- with the powerful urge to move.

it’s hard to explain, his need to wander. it’s like every moment he’s not traveling, he can almost feel the infinite borders of hels expanding, spreading into new horizons, and the thought of staying put is unbearable. it doesn’t matter if he actually goes beyond the loaded chunks or not- a feat that’d take years, to be sure. just getting on the move again is enough to quiet the itch.

(it didn’t use to be this way. it didn’t start until after he built his communicator into his new arm, fusing himself with it- but he’ll never admit this, never confront the possibility that it might’ve been a mistake. it’s easier just to leave.)

besides, he still enjoys the various business he gets up to with the other denizens of hels. his services as a redstoner and a data analyst are in high demand, and he has a reputation to uphold. he can’t throw all that away to stay here. that just wouldn’t make sense. it wouldn’t be logical.

patho reaches for the clock at his hip. it was the first gift dbubs gave him. early into patho’s first stay, dbubs decided he needed a clock of his own, so he’d always know when it was time for them to sleep. based on its position, nightfall is only a couple hours away.

“well, c’mon!” dbubs pesters him, his haughty voice echoing off the smooth walls of the cliffside. “what’re you- what, are ya scared of a lil water? huh? just- you just try and beat my record, you- i bet you can’t!”

“alright, alright,” patho chuckles, shrugging his jacket off. “you asked for it…”

won’t be long, now.

~*~

that night, patho leaves his eye on.

dbubs, curled beside him, notices this immediately, and deep down, he knows what it means. it took a while- how long, he isn’t sure- for patho to grow comfortable enough to turn his cybernetic eye off while they slept. but ever since then, he does it every night… up until the last night. every last night, like clockwork.

already, dbubs can feel the familiar weight of sleep trying to take him. caught in the jungle’s day-night cycle, he has little choice in the matter; he sleeps every night without fail. but he fights it anyway, biting back a yawn.

“tomorrow,” dbubs starts quietly, “uh, do you wanna- i- i had this idea for a new build, a perfect build, of course, and i’m gonna need a- a super smelter, for- uh, for all the terracotta-“

“dbubs.” that solitary red eye gazes out from the dark. “you know i’m not made for staying.”

dbubs shies away from the words like an insect from sudden light. “and- and so i was thinking,” he continues, as if patho hadn’t spoken, “we could do a uh, you know, maybe a bamboo farm? for the- for the fuel? i- my perfect redstone prowess could make this easy- easily, of course, but um… i uh- euugh, you- you know they always say, sure enough, that two brains- uh, two geniuses, genii, are better’n one.”

“yeah?” patho breathes a soft, empty laugh. “is that what they say?”

“and- well, yes! yes, of course!” darkness creeps in from the edges of dbubs’s vision; he clings tighter to patho. “and… and uh… n’you can learn all ‘bout my new… new dbubs redstone clock… pat- patented design, a‘course…”

“of course.” patho’s lips brush across his forehead. “better get some rest, then.”

dbubs struggles to keep his eyes open, but it’s as if his lashes are lined with iron. he presses his face in the crook of patho’s neck, breathing him in, that redstone-and-gunpowder scent; bitter and metallic.

“don’t,” he murmurs, consciousness escaping him quickly. “please…?”

“night, dbubs.”

the jungle sleeps.

~*~

far from the jungle, patho lays down in a shallow cave carved from netherrack.

168 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 15/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 27 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -11, 987.629 / 30.91778 / 252,896.204 block: -11,987 30 252,896 chunk: -780 15 7,835 facing: east (towards positive x)(1.5/5) client light: 2 (0 sky, 2 block) biome: error:nether waste local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 5/247 + 0/8

he’s put enough distance between himself and the jungle that he’s confident he can sleep for a few hours before setting off again. the surrounding biome is one he’s well familiar with; barren and empty. with a wall put up to shelter him from mobs, he’s finally safe enough to turn his eye off.

that won’t be the case anymore, once he gets closer to the more populated chunks. the risk of being caught with one eye nonfunctional is too high. it’s just something he has to deal with.

(of course, he could’ve built a cybernetic replacement that simply functioned like the eye he lost, but he thought himself clever and built in a data processor to provide him with valuable information, giving him an advantage over anyone else in his field. so this is the price he pays for it.)

he reaches for his clock. there’s only a couple hours left before the sun will rise, unseen beyond the bedrock ceiling, and dbubs will wake to an empty bed.

but for now, patho tucks the clock to his ear and closes his eyes, letting the steadfast ticking finally lull him to sleep.

~*~

[sunugf]

do you guys want to listen to my chill but fun little kpop playlist i've been curating 👉🏻👈🏻

[yenqa]

how enha would react seeing you at their concert!

pairing : enhypen x gn!reader

warnings : like two swear words, mentions of cuddling, relationship is public in jungwons 🤞🤞, mentions of jealousy and crying

wc : 0.84k

a/n : hope you enjoy anon! they might seem similar bc i ran out of ideas after jay also new format

heeseung

ok so we all know damn well this man is a huge flirt.

so yk he’s doing his flirty things while performing but once he spots you, its over for any engene.

he’s actually kinda shocked that you came because they didn’t tour in your area

he literally only winks in your direction and the engene next to you thinks they’re dying

he keeps looking over at you and when he sings polaroid love, you know he’s singing it to you.

but engenes keep getting suspicious because they’re like why does hee keep interacting with only that engene?????

and the clip of someone recording him singing polaroid love to you goes viral!!

jay

im sorry but realistically he does not spot you.

ok but pretend he does and he’s like :000 inside but he like hides it bc he’s in the middle of a concert!!

he gets like a splurge of confidenceand energy so he performs way better than usual (not like there is much to improve on)

and he starts getting like flirty with engenes (you) and fans are like omg what’s happening to him!!?!,!???

he smiles at you so much throughout the concert

man starts crying during shout out and you lowkey tear up a bit

after the concert you go backstage and he pulls you into the biggest hug and like twirls you around :))

bf jay is keeping me alive rn

jake

ok so we know he’s flirter number 2

idk how but he spots you immediately and his face brightens

he literally starts getting all flustered when you two make eye contact

you throw him a little hat you made/bought and he wears it THE WHOLE concert

like fever? he’s wearing it. drunk dazed? hes wearing it

he doesn’t care that it’s a cutesy hat he’s still wearing it

until his manager makes him take it off

he blows you a kiss whenever he can

and he gives himself a pat on the back whenever he sees you flustered

but he also gives himself a dating rumor because engenes notice everything

sunghoon

opposite of jay, when he spots you in the front row he gets shy

like “omg what if i mess up then y/n never likes me again”

but once he sees you having fun, all his worries are gone and he’s also having fun

he pays more attention to whatever section your in and he like keeps walking to wherever you are.

and when he’s like running through the stadium he completes your heart and your heart only

his smile grows whenever he looks at you smiling and dancing

at the end of the concert he gives a little message to engenes (you) and it’s like

“thank you so much for coming today, you make me happy when i see you dancing and having fun” blah blah blah

but you and him both know that the message is for you and you only

sunoo

you know he smiles when he spots you

bro goes from ☺️ to 😁 (that looks a little silly)

he keeps trying to not make eye contact with you but he can’t help it :((

he picks up your phone and he films a little video of him blowing a kiss to the camera (mostly to you but engenes dont know that)

at the encore he specifically requests the songs you love that they didnt perform

after the concert you know that you’re getting cuddles

he fr rushes home with you like hes zooming bc hes tired and you cuddle <33

well after he takes a shower

he loves when you play with his hair

so when you do, he falls asleep quickly

jungwon

ok so your relationship is public

he keeps waving at you and mentioning you

“y/n is here!” “y/n loves this song” “y/n knows the dance to this part of-“

enhypen just wants him to shut up about you

he performs extra hard and sends his failed winks to you

when hes running around the stadium he stops to kiss you hand before running back around

during tfw he points to you multiple times

he can’t stop smiling whenever he looks at you

he keeps eye contact while singing shout out and tears up a little but :((

he literally rushes to you after the concert like he cannot contain his excitement

i need jungwon NOW.

niki

this man gets so cocky

when he sees you filming him and only him, he grins so hard

but secretly he’s so flustered

Y/N? at my concert? filming me?

he acts extra flirty to engenes to make you jealous

when he sees you frowning a little bit, he stops and winks at you

he winks at you a little too much…

when he sees you smiling wide at his parts, he almost forgets all his moves

like how did he get so lucky with you??

if you’re relationship is public you best know he’s talking about you

“my y/n is here at the concert today!”

just be careful of jealous engenes

[redbullseb]

"We're at Nürburgring, and you can see it's packed! A lot of people, I think 30 000 just in this section, which is amazing. A lot of flags, so thank you very much for your support! Great way to keep telling our story of Race Without Trace and explain to people why... why I care. So, yeah, you can see behind me—[CROWD CHEERS]—there's a lot of people that came, and I really enjoyed it. I had a blast, and I hope that the fun that I have inspires people to take what fun they have, and have it in a more responsible way. Might be small steps that we're taking all the time, but they're worth it, so. Thanks for watching! I hope you enjoy the images and the day, and see you soon!"

[x]

[novaursa]

Where Dragons Dare (3/3)

- Summary: Years later, Vaemond Velaryon petitions for his rightful claim to Driftmark. And a broken family must mend wounds that were inflicted long ago.

- Paring: male!targ reader/Alicent Hightower

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N, is twin brother of Rhaenyra and is bonded with a dragon. If you want to read more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 7 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @literaturedog

- A/N: this was requested by @witch-of-letters. I hope you enjoy this conclusion to the story. 🙂

- Previous chapter: 2

- Bonus part: Lost Chapters

You sit beside Alicent in your private chambers, the golden light of the late afternoon filtering through the high windows of the Red Keep. The day had been long, burdened by the weight of ruling in your father’s stead, and yet the discussion you’re having with your wife weighs heavier still. Rhaenyra’s impending visit to King’s Landing brings back memories—some bittersweet, some festering like old wounds—and it’s all been cast into sharper focus by Corlys Velaryon’s grievous injury. Now, with Vaemond Velaryon’s petition to claim Driftmark, the political storm brewing could tear apart the fragile peace you've fought to maintain.

Alicent’s eyes are fixed on you, concern mixed with resolve in those familiar dark depths. She’s changed over the years, just as you have; she’s no longer the uncertain girl manipulated by her father, but a woman of keen insight and strength—your equal and partner in every sense.

“It’s clear why Vaemond is pressing his claim,” she says quietly, her voice laced with tension. “He isn’t wrong to seek what he believes is his by rights. Driftmark belongs to the Velaryons, and the boys… well, it’s plain they’re not Laenor’s blood.”

Your eyes snap to hers, a flicker of warning there. “You shouldn’t speak of such things aloud, Alicent. Not with the walls of the Red Keep so eager to whisper.”

“It’s true, Y/N,” she replies firmly, her gaze unyielding. “Everyone knows it, even if they pretend not to. Viserys decreed them legitimate, but we all see the truth. The danger is in the pretense, in clinging to a lie for the sake of peace. But what peace is this, really? Vaemond’s words hold merit. Driftmark’s true heirs are being passed over for a fabricated legacy.”

A heavy silence hangs between you, the air thick with unspoken tensions that have lingered since the day of Laena’s funeral. Your thoughts drift, unbidden, to that dreadful night when everything unraveled—when Aemond claimed Vhagar and lost his eye for it. The memory of his pained screams still haunts you, a knife twisting in your heart each time you recall it. He bore it bravely, far braver than you expected from a boy his age, but the scars left behind were not just physical.

You let out a weary sigh, leaning back against the cushioned seat as your gaze falls to the intricate patterns on the stone floor. “I demanded justice for Aemond,” you murmur, bitterness seeping into your tone. “Luke should’ve been punished, but Father protected Rhaenyra as he always does. Her children are his blind spot, even now. She never truly acknowledged her son’s fault, not really, and from that moment on… everything between us was strained. We’re twins, yet she became a stranger after that day.”

Alicent’s fingers brush against yours, a silent comfort in her touch. “I’ve never forgotten what happened. I never will. It’s easy for Rhaenyra to speak of unity and family, but the truth is her actions always served her ambitions. She’s isolated herself on Dragonstone with Daemon, as if that distance absolves her from the mess she’s left behind.”

Your frown deepens. You love your sister, you do—but those love-blind affections have long been clouded by bitter reality. The bond you once shared feels frayed, worn thin by years of conflict and choices that placed her interests above everything else. Her sons—Jace, Luke, and little Joffrey—hold a place in your heart, but even that affection is tainted by the lies everyone is forced to maintain. You cannot forget how easily your own pleas for justice were disregarded, how Viserys himself demanded silence when you spoke of the truth.

“Viserys is clinging to a fantasy,” you say after a moment, your voice hard. “He wants to die believing that everything he’s built will remain intact, that the realm will carry on in harmony with Rhaenyra and her children. But there’s rot beneath the surface, and the realm won’t turn a blind eye forever.”

Alicent watches you carefully, her expression unreadable for a moment before softening. “It’s not only you who sees it. The lords whisper, the court shifts uneasily. And now Vaemond has brought that truth into the open, no longer content to pretend. The coming days will test the loyalty of those who have only remained silent out of fear.”

A silence falls once more, only broken by the distant cries of gulls and the muffled sounds of the capital below. The sun has dipped lower in the sky, casting sundown shadows across the room, but you can’t bring yourself to end this conversation, not when it feels as though so much is at stake.

“I don’t know what Viserys will do when Rhaenyra arrives,” you admit quietly. “He’s always favored her, always turned a blind eye when it comes to her and her children. If he sides with her again, if he dismisses Vaemond… it will spark something we may not be able to contain.”

Alicent shifts closer, her hand finding yours once more. “Then we must be ready for what comes. You are Prince Regent, Y/N. You have the authority to act, to protect the realm as you see fit. I know where my loyalties lie.”

You look at her, seeing the determination in her eyes, the quiet devotion that’s never wavered. She’s your wife, the mother of your children, and the one person who has stood beside you through all of it. The bitterness that lingers between you and Rhaenyra doesn’t extend here; with Alicent, there’s no pretense, no lies hidden behind strained smiles.

As night finally creeps over the capital, the light outside fading into a deep indigo, the two of you remain locked in conversation. You speak of the future, of what may come when Rhaenyra and Daemon set foot in the Red Keep, of the lines that may be drawn in the sand.

The fire crackles softly in the hearth as the night deepens, emitting warm flickers of light across your private chambers. The weight of the day’s troubles has lessened, replaced by the comfort of Alicent’s presence. The two of you remain close, sharing lingering touches and quiet words. As you move behind her, your hands begin to wander, gliding across the soft fabric of her gown. You hold her close, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breath beneath your fingertips. Your lips brush against her ear as you murmur, “I think I must confess my sins before the gods, though I fear they are far too many.”

Alicent turns her head slightly, raising an eyebrow at your words. There’s a moment where she appears to take your confession seriously, but then her expression shifts, lips twitching as she fails to suppress a laugh. “That was horrible,” she chuckles, shaking her head, her laughter lightening the mood.

You grin, enjoying the way her laughter sounds, how it brightens the shadows of the evening. “Perhaps, but I’m not sure the gods would easily forgive me if they knew the true extent of my sins,” you jest, voice low and teasing as your hands tighten around her waist.

Her laughter softens into something more intimate as she turns fully toward you, her gaze lingering on your lips before she closes the distance. The kiss is slow at first, a familiar dance of lips and breath, but it quickly deepens as passion flares between you. Her fingers thread through your hair, pulling you closer, and the world outside the chambers fades away. It’s just the two of you—no titles, no crowns, only the warmth of her body pressed against yours.

In the growing heat of the moment, clothing becomes a hindrance, something to be discarded in favor of the closeness you both crave. Your hands make quick work of her gown, letting it slip from her shoulders, pooling at her feet. She helps you shed your attire just as quickly until bare skin meets bare skin. There’s a moment of silence, the air thick with anticipation, before Alicent pushes you back onto the bed with a determined glint in her eye.

You watch as she climbs atop you, her every movement measured and deliberate. The sight of her like this—confident and in control—ignites something in you, a hunger that’s always been there but now roars to life. “You look like a queen,” you whisper, voice husky, your hands finding her hips as she guides you into her. “My heart, my love.”

Alicent gasps softly, closing her eyes as she sinks onto you, the slow, steady rhythm she sets sending shivers through you both. The pleasure builds gradually, each movement deliberate and teasing. You can see the mischief in her eyes as she reaches for a nearby candle, tipping it just enough to let drops of warm wax fall onto your chest. The heat is a sharp contrast against your skin, but it only spurs your desire further.

“To raise the dragon with fire,” she whispers, her voice low and filled with a playful edge as the wax continues to drip.

You chuckle darkly, gripping her hips more firmly as you thrust upward. “The dragon is already raised, my love.” Your words send a thrill through her, and the pace quickens as she moves above you, her moans mingling with your own.

The candles forgotten, they clatter to the floor as her movements become more intense, both of you teetering on the edge of release. But just as you feel yourself ready to fall over that precipice, Alicent suddenly stops, lifting herself away from you. The absence leaves you throbbing with frustration, your desire only heightened by the way she watches you, a knowing smile curving her lips.

“What are you doing?” you groan, the teasing ache almost too much to bear.

She leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss that only stokes the fire in your blood. “Patience, my love,” she whispers against your lips, her voice dripping with teasing amusement. But patience has never been your strong suit, not when it comes to her.

With a growl of determination, you flip her beneath you, your body pressing hers into the soft sheets. You position her on her stomach, her back arched as you take hold of her hips and guide yourself back into her. She moans your name, the sound sending a rush of satisfaction through you as you begin to move with renewed urgency, your rhythm rough and intense, driven by the need to claim her fully.

Alicent’s fingers clutch at the sheets as each thrust draws another cry of pleasure from her lips. You lean down, your mouth brushing against her ear as you whisper praises between ragged breaths, telling her how beautiful she is, how perfect, how she belongs to you as much as you belong to her. The words seem to drive her wild, her voice trembling as she reaches for that peak again.

The pace grows frantic as you both reach the edge together, your bodies locked in perfect harmony. With one final thrust, you feel the tension snap, sending you both spiraling into a shared high that leaves you breathless, your minds lost in the euphoria of your union.

When the last waves of pleasure fade, you collapse beside her, gathering her into your arms as you both catch your breath. The night is quiet now, only the distant hum of the city outside breaking the stillness. You press a kiss to her temple, your heart still pounding in your chest.

For now, in this moment, everything else can wait.

The corridors of the Red Keep echo softly with your footfalls as you walk side by side with your eldest son, Aegon. The council meeting had been more taxing than usual, and you could see the strain in the boy’s eyes, though he hides it behind a practiced indifference. You glance at him, noting how he chews the inside of his cheek—a habit he’s never quite grown out of.

“Father, I—” Aegon starts, his voice tense, betraying the anxiety that simmers beneath his confident exterior. “I didn’t mean to sound insolent when I questioned Lord Lyman, I just—”

You stop, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “You did well, Aegon,” you say, cutting through his worry. “There was no fault in what you said. You spoke with strength and clarity, and you asked the right questions. We must be clear in our decisions, especially when others are too hesitant to say what needs to be said.”

Aegon blinks, the tension easing from his brow. He nods slowly, his expression softening. “Thank you, Father.” His voice is quieter now, laced with gratitude, and as the two of you continue walking, his steps seem lighter. The bond between you is often tested by his impulsiveness and uncertainty, but moments like this remind you that beneath the bravado, Aegon seeks your approval, your guidance.

You approach the sunroom, where a midday meal awaits. The bright sunlight streams through the windows, bathing the space in warmth. Already seated are Aemond, Helaena, and Daeron, each engaged in their own conversations. Helaena’s face lights up the moment she sees you, her smile wide and genuine.

“Father! I finished my collection,” she announces excitedly, almost bouncing in her seat. Her gaze sparkles with the kind of innocent joy you’ve always cherished in her.

You smile back, a rare softness in your eyes. “That’s wonderful, Helaena. I promise I’ll come by later and see it. I’m sure it’s even more impressive than the last one.”

She beams at your words, her contentment visible, before returning her focus to the small assortment of insect jars she’s arranged on the table.

Aemond and Daeron, standing nearby, approach you as well. Aemond, ever the observant one, nods in greeting. “Father, it seems preparations for tonight’s feast are nearly complete. Mother mentioned that Rhaenyra’s arrival will likely set tongues wagging.” His tone is measured, hiding a touch of wariness behind his composed demeanor.

“Let them wag,” Daeron adds with a grin, his youthful energy apparent. “We’ll hold our own, as we always do.”

You can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell in your chest at how they’ve grown—each of them distinct in temperament, but unified by the bonds of family. “We will,” you agree, placing a reassuring hand on Daeron’s shoulder.

Before the conversation can continue, the door to the sunroom opens, and Alicent steps inside. Her eyes sweep across the room before settling on you. A subtle crease forms between her brows as she notices the slight grimace on your face—a telltale sign of discomfort you’ve never been able to fully mask from her. She moves toward you, concern evident in her expression.

“Y/N, is your leg bothering you again?” she asks, her voice laced with worry. 

Before you can answer, Helaena, ever attuned to things others overlook, speaks up from her seat. “It’s the weather. The clouds are moving in. His leg hurts when the air changes like that.”

Alicent’s alarm deepens. “Should I summon Grand Maester Orwyle to examine it? Perhaps there’s something he can do.”

You shake your head, offering her a comforting smile. “It’s nothing to worry over, Alicent. Just an old pain from that fall off Dallax years ago. It comes and goes with the weather, as Helaena said. I’ll be fine.”

Though she nods, you can see that she’s not fully reassured, her fingers brushing lightly against your arm, a silent expression of her lingering concern.

The moment is broken by a knock at the door, and one of the guards steps inside, bowing slightly. “Your Grace, the Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon have arrived with their children. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Vaemond are with them as well.”

A heavy sigh escapes you, the weight of the situation pressing down like an iron mantle. “Of course they have,” you mutter under your breath, straightening your posture. Turning back to Alicent, you catch her worried gaze, knowing she senses the unease that tightens in your chest. This reunion has all the makings of a volatile confrontation, and the old wounds that have never fully healed threaten to bleed anew.

“I must go and welcome them,” you say, your voice measured but weary. The obligations of duty pull you forward, even when your heart longs to stay here with your family in this fleeting moment of peace.

Alicent steps closer, her fingers brushing against your sleeve in a silent gesture of support. “We’ll be by your side.”

You nod, grateful for her presence, and glance back at your children, who watch you with varying degrees of concern and curiosity. Even now, they look to you for strength, for guidance, and you cannot fail them. Not today. Not ever.

With one last glance at the warm sunlit room—a sanctuary from the political storm outside—you prepare yourself for the inevitable tension that awaits in the great hall. The time for peace and warmth has passed; now, you must step back into the fray.

The throne room is heavy with the weight of history, the distant clang of armor and murmured whispers echoing through the vast chamber. You stand at the base of the Iron Throne, the twisted swords looming behind you like the sharp shadows of past decisions. This place has always felt suffocating—the power it represents, the burden it imposes—but today, it seems even more so. The air is filled with anticipation, with all the words left unspoken over the years, words that now hover like ghosts between you and your sister.

The grand doors creak open, and in walks Rhaenyra, flanked by Daemon and her children. The entourage is impressive in its own right. But your eyes meet Rhaenyra’s first, a mixture of affection and lingering resentment flickering in her gaze. Daemon’s expression is inscrutable as ever, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips, as if he’s already prepared for whatever battle this day might bring.

“Brother,” Rhaenyra greets, her voice formal but laced with a warmth she struggles to fully suppress. The distance between you isn’t just measured by the steps she takes toward you but by the years of strained silences and fractured trust. “It’s been too long.”

“Too long indeed,” you reply, giving her a nod. “Though I wish it were under different circumstances.”

She glances back at her children—Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey—who linger closer to their stepfather. It’s a small, subtle act, but one that doesn’t escape your notice. The lines have already been drawn, loyalties established, even within family. Your eyes shift momentarily to Lucerys, who shifts uncomfortably under your gaze. The memory of that night, when Aemond lost his eye, still lingers in the corners of your mind like a festering wound.

Daemon steps forward, offering you a mocking half-bow. “Prince Regent,” he drawls, the title rolling off his tongue with a hint of amusement. “I trust King’s Landing hasn’t dulled your edge in all this politicking?”

“King’s Landing has taught me that sharper edges are often hidden behind polished words,” you counter, meeting his smirk with one of your own. “But some things remain constant, no matter how much time has passed.”

There’s a flicker of something in Daemon’s eyes—approval, perhaps—but he gives nothing more than a faint nod. The moment stretches as if both of you are waiting for the other to strike first, but the tension is cut by the sound of more footsteps entering the throne room.

Alicent appears, resplendent in her green gown, with Aegon and Aemond trailing just behind her. They take their places beside you, Alicent’s presence a quiet assurance amidst the charged atmosphere. Her eyes briefly meet Rhaenyra’s—a mixture of cordiality and something more guarded passing between them.

Rhaenyra’s gaze shifts back to you, her expression tight. “All this—Vaemond’s petition, this charade in court—is unnecessary. Corlys has already named Luke as his heir. This is nothing more than a farce driven by Vaemond’s ambition and desperation.”

You hold her gaze steadily, the words she speaks true, but there’s a bitterness beneath the surface that neither of you can quite hide. “Rhaenyra, you know as well as I do that perception is as powerful as truth in the eyes of the court. Vaemond’s claims are not without support among those who see blood over words. He’s leveraged the uncertainty surrounding Corlys’s health to rally those who resent the decree Viserys made years ago.”

“Resentment or ambition, it hardly matters,” Rhaenyra counters, her voice hardening. “Luke is Corlys’s chosen heir. This is nothing more than a blatant attempt to undermine our family, to sow discord in favor of personal gain.”

Before you can respond, Aemond’s cool voice cuts through the tension. “And yet, the matter has been brought before the court. The Driftwood Throne is more than just a seat; it represents the stability of our alliances and the power of the Velaryon fleet. Vaemond knows this well.”

Aegon shifts beside his brother, clearly eager to speak, but there’s an undercurrent of caution in his posture. “Let them debate the bloodlines and the claims. It’s all they seem to care about. But it’s our family’s unity that hangs in the balance.”

Alicent’s hand subtly rests on Aegon’s arm, a silent encouragement to temper his words. You can feel her worry radiating beside you, though she remains composed. “We cannot afford to be careless,” she adds, her voice steady. “The lords and ladies of the court are watching closely, each with their own interests at heart. We must tread carefully, especially with those like Vaemond, who are prepared to exploit any perceived weakness.”

Rhaenyra’s expression softens only slightly, the strain of years apart visible in the lines around her eyes. “I don’t want this to tear us further apart, brother. The realm needs stability, not more division. But it feels as though every step I take, every decision I make, is met with suspicion.”

You take a breath, weighing your words carefully. “Rhaenyra, I never wished for distance between us, nor did I want our paths to diverge as they have. But the choices we make carry consequences—sometimes ones we never intend. I want to believe that we can still find a way forward, even with everything that stands between us.”

Daemon’s eyes narrow slightly, watching you with a calculating gaze. He’s never been one to shy away from conflict, but even he seems to recognize that this moment is a delicate one.

Before anything further can be said, Alicent’s attention shifts as she catches sight of movement near the entrance. “It seems our guests have arrived.”

The doors swing open again, and in walk Princess Rhaenys and Lord Vaemond Velaryon, their presence commanding attention. Vaemond’s expression is one of grim determination, while Rhaenys’s gaze remains neutral, though there’s an underlying tension in the way she holds herself.

You sigh inwardly, the weight of what’s to come pressing heavily on your shoulders. “I must welcome them,” you say quietly, though the words feel more like a duty than a choice. 

With a final glance at Alicent and your children, you steel yourself, ready to face whatever storm this day may bring.

The throne room is filled with an air of tension so thick it nearly suffocates, a place where every word and glance carries the weight of the realm’s future. You sit in front of the Iron Throne, flanked by your family—Alicent at your side, with Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, and Daeron standing proudly beside you. Otto stands as a silent sentinel to your left, his expression carefully neutral but his calculating mind undoubtedly working behind those cold eyes.

This is your trial to preside over, not his.

Vaemond Velaryon stands before the court, his expression carved from stone, his voice carrying the authority of a man with righteous conviction. “I speak plainly because this matter is not one of politics, but of truth! The Driftwood Throne is a legacy that cannot be tainted by a lie. Lucerys Velaryon is no true Velaryon. He carries no blood of our house—he is not the son of Laenor Velaryon!”

Murmurs ripple through the gathered lords and ladies, some leaning in, eager to witness the drama unfold. Vaemond’s words are like daggers thrown across the room, aimed directly at Rhaenyra and her children. You can see the steel in her eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line as she holds her composure. Daemon stands beside her, eyes narrowing at the offense, but he remains still, his calculating mind no doubt waiting for the right moment to strike.

You raise a hand to silence the room, your voice calm but firm. “Lord Vaemond, you’ve made your case. But it is not solely yours to decide. Princess Rhaenys, as the wife of Lord Corlys and the one who has stood by his side through every battle and storm, you have the most voice in this matter. Speak now, for the realm listens.”

Rhaenys steps forward, her presence commanding respect. Dressed in the deep blacks and reds of her house, she carries the pride of House Velaryon on her shoulders, yet her expression remains inscrutable. You watch her closely, knowing that her words will determine more than just the fate of Driftmark—they will shape alliances and define loyalties.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she begins, her voice clear and unwavering. “It is true that my lord husband is gravely injured and unable to speak for himself. But before he took ill, he made his wishes clear. He named Lucerys as his heir. My husband’s word is law on Driftmark, and I intend to honor it.”

Vaemond shifts uncomfortably, but remains silent for now.

Rhaenys continues, her gaze moving to Rhaenyra before settling on you. “Furthermore, Princess Rhaenyra has proposed a union—one that would not only preserve the legacy of House Velaryon but strengthen it. She has offered her son, Lucerys, to wed my granddaughter, Rhaena. A match I wholeheartedly support.”

The court stirs at this revelation. You feel the weight of Rhaenys’s decision pressing against your chest. Her words do more than just confirm Lucerys’s claim—they solidify Rhaenyra’s position in this fight. The offer to wed Rhaena to Lucerys would ensure that Driftmark remains in Velaryon hands, through Laena’s trueborn daughter. It’s a maneuver as brilliant as it is decisive. Rhaenys has thrown her support behind Rhaenyra in a way that cannot be easily countered.

You pause, considering the ramifications. Your eyes briefly meet Rhaenyra’s, searching for some sign of what she’s truly feeling beneath her stoic mask. She knows the significance of Rhaenys’s declaration; it’s more than just the inheritance of Driftmark—it’s a public alignment of houses, a strengthening of her line.

Just as you’re about to speak, Vaemond’s voice rises again, sharper now, with barely concealed fury. “This is an insult! A mockery of our house! You may support these... false heirs, but I will not allow Driftmark to be handed over to bastards!”

The word hangs in the air, searing through the room like a brand. A cold silence falls, eyes darting between you and Vaemond. Even Otto’s composed mask slips slightly, his eyes narrowing at the brazenness of Vaemond’s outburst. You feel a ripple of anger stir within you, a flame that you must keep controlled, for it would be too easy to let it consume you here.

Daemon steps forward, his smile a dangerous thing as he drawls, “Say it again, Vaemond. Go on.” His hand rests casually on the hilt of his blade, the invitation clear.

You rise from your seat, your gaze locking onto Vaemond with the weight of a dragon’s stare. The silence that follows is heavy, the tension crackling like lightning in the air. The audacity of his words echoes through the chamber—bastards. A line has been crossed, and everyone knows it.

“Enough,” you command, your voice low but resonant, silencing the whispers that had begun to stir among the lords and ladies. “You forget yourself, Lord Vaemond.”

Vaemond’s face twists with fury, but he stands defiant, unwilling to yield. “Your Grace, I only speak the truth that everyone here knows but dares not voice! Driftmark is the seat of House Velaryon, a house built on blood and salt. That blood should flow true, and Lucerys Velaryon carries none of it! The realm cannot be governed by lies and pretenses.”

You take a step forward, your presence a shadow over the defiant lord. “You speak of truth, but your truth is tainted by ambition and grievance. Driftmark’s future is a matter for Lord Corlys’s bloodline, and it has been decided by the one who holds that legacy. Princess Rhaenys has spoken clearly on her husband’s wishes and on the betrothal that will secure Driftmark’s future.”

Rhaenys’s head lifts, her expression one of quiet strength. It is a rare thing for the ‘Queen Who Never Was’ to publicly choose a side so explicitly, and in doing so, she has thrown the full weight of House Velaryon behind Rhaenyra and her children.

But Vaemond is not done. His eyes blaze with a dangerous mix of pride and desperation. “And you would have us swallow this pretense, this farce? I will not see my house’s name sullied for the sake of politics!”

Rhaenyra’s expression is a careful mask, but you know her well enough to see the tension coiled beneath the surface. Her sons stand rigid, their youth apparent in how they strain to keep composed, particularly Lucerys, whose gaze keeps darting toward you as if searching for some semblance of reassurance. You can feel Alicent’s eyes on you as well, a silent plea for this matter to end without bloodshed.

You straighten, feeling the weight of the crown’s authority settle around your shoulders. “This is not about what you will or will not see, Lord Vaemond. The decision is not yours to make.” You look to the gathered lords and ladies, letting your words carry across the room. “House Velaryon’s seat belongs to Lucerys Velaryon, named by Lord Corlys and affirmed by his lady wife. This court upholds that decision.”

There’s a murmur of agreement among some of the gathered lords, though others shift uncomfortably, clearly aligning themselves more with Vaemond’s view, whether they dare voice it or not. Vaemond’s defiance hardens into something bitter, his eyes flicking briefly toward Daemon, who remains a silent sentinel, the edge of his smile dangerous.

“Lucerys Velaryon is not a true Velaryon,” Vaemond growls, his voice rising with barely-contained rage. “He is—”

“Say it,” Daemon’s voice slices through the air like a dagger, his smile cold, daring Vaemond to cross that final line for the last time.

For a moment, it looks as if Vaemond might take the bait, the word trembling on his lips, but the air is thick with unspoken threats. You can see the flicker of fear in his eyes, a recognition that his next words could cost him more than just this claim. He hesitates, but the anger does not fade.

“The truth is plain,” Vaemond finally says, quieter now but no less venomous. “You can wrap it in silks and gold, but it remains a lie.”

Your patience wears thin. “Your passion is noted, Lord Vaemond, but you would do well to remember where you stand and who you address.” You glance at Rhaenyra, who remains poised despite the insults cast her way, then back at Vaemond. “This court has rendered its judgment. The matter is settled.”

The finality in your tone leaves no room for further argument. Vaemond clenches his jaw, his fists trembling at his sides, but he knows he’s lost. His pride is wounded, and though he has supporters among the court, none will openly defy the crown’s decision. He gives you a look filled with loathing, and for a heartbeat, you think he might lash out.

Before anything can escalate, Alicent steps forward, her presence bringing a calming effect, if only briefly. “This matter is closed,” she says with cool authority, echoing your decree. “The realm must look forward, not cling to the past.”

You nod, turning your attention back to the court. “The feast tonight will be held in honor of family and unity. I expect all to attend.” You emphasize the word family, knowing it holds different meanings for those gathered. Your gaze lingers on Rhaenyra and her children, then back to Vaemond, whose seething gaze is impossible to ignore.

Vaemond’s face is twisted with barely-restrained fury, but he bows stiffly. “As you command, Your Grace.”

The lords and ladies begin to disperse, the unrest easing as conversations shift to safer topics. But the undercurrents of unease remain. Alliances have been made clearer, but new fissures have formed as well.

As the court disperses, you catch Rhaenyra’s gaze. There’s a gratitude there, mingled with sadness, a recognition of the unspoken rift that still lies between you. “Thank you, brother,” she says softly when she approaches, her voice tinged with a mixture of relief and weariness.

You nod, offering a small, strained smile. “For now, let us put aside the politics and remember that we are family.”

Rhaenyra inclines her head, and though the words are spoken with good intent, there’s a heaviness that neither of you can ignore. The politics of blood, inheritance, and loyalty remain like shadows between you.

As Rhaenyra and Daemon leave the throne room with their children, you feel Alicent’s hand lightly rest on your arm. “You did well,” she says softly, her gaze searching yours for any trace of what you’re truly feeling.

You give a faint nod, but the weariness of the day weighs heavily on your mind. “Perhaps. But this is only the beginning. There are storms yet to come.”

Alicent’s eyes flicker with concern, but she remains composed. “Then we will face them together, as we always have.”

With that, you steel yourself for the next gathering—the feast, where smiles will hide sharpened knives and toasts will be laced with hidden meanings.

The Great Hall is aglow with the warmth of countless candles, their light reflecting off the polished silver goblets and rich tapestries lining the walls. The air is thick with the aromas of roasted meats, spiced wine, and the subtle sweetness of honeyed fruits. At the head of the table, King Viserys sits, smiling broadly, the years of weariness lifted, if only for tonight. His eyes, though dulled by age and illness, sparkle with the joy of seeing his family gathered together—just as he has always dreamed.

You sit to his right, with Alicent beside you, her presence a quiet, steadying force. Your children—Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, and Daeron—are arranged around you, each reflecting the shared Targaryen and Hightower legacies. Across the table, Rhaenyra sits with Daemon, their children—Jacaerys, Lucerys, Joffrey, Baela, and Rhaena—filling the seats beside them. For once, the invisible line that has divided you all seems to blur, softened by the promise of reconciliation that hangs in the air.

Viserys raises his goblet, his voice trembling but rich with emotion. “To family,” he declares, looking first at you, then at Rhaenyra, his gaze lingering with unspoken hope. “We have all weathered many storms, but tonight, let us put aside our differences and remember the ties that bind us. Blood is what unites us, and that is stronger than any quarrel.”

You lift your goblet, meeting Rhaenyra’s gaze from across the table. There’s a flicker of warmth in her eyes, a reflection of the shared memories from when you were younger—before ambition and politics built walls between you. “To family,” you echo, letting your voice carry across the hall.

“To family,” Rhaenyra agrees, her voice softer, but sincere. The tension that usually clings to her words is absent, replaced by a genuine desire to find common ground. Daemon follows suit with a small nod, raising his goblet, though his eyes never lose their sharpness.

The others join in the toast, and for the first time in a long while, there’s a shared sense of unity at the table. The feast begins, and conversation flows more easily than you had expected. Laughter echoes, and even some of the past hurts seem to fade as old stories are shared, tales from when you and Rhaenyra were children, and the world was simpler.

Aegon, emboldened by the good cheer, leans toward Jacaerys with a grin. “So, cousin, when do we finally see if your swordplay has improved? Or are you still hiding behind the idea of ‘diplomacy’?” There’s a teasing lilt to his words, but it’s free of malice.

Jacaerys chuckles, accepting the challenge with grace. “Any time you wish, Aegon. Perhaps tomorrow, in the yard? I could use the exercise.”

Aegon laughs, and for once, it’s genuine. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Nearby, Helaena leans close to Rhaena, showing her a small, delicate beetle she’s been keeping. “This one’s new. I found it in the gardens this morning. It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

Rhaena’s face lights up with interest. “It is! You’ll have to show me where you find them. Perhaps we can look together tomorrow?”

Aemond, ever observant, listens as Daemon regales Daeron with stories of old Valyria, his tone as dramatic as ever. “You mustn’t rely only on strength, young prince,” Daemon advises with a sly smile. “There’s more power in a sharp mind than a sharp blade, though it’s best to wield both.”

As the night progresses, the atmosphere becomes lighter, laughter filling the hall. You notice Rhaenyra watching you, and when your eyes meet, she offers a tentative smile. There’s a pause, a moment where neither of you speaks, but the silence is full of unspoken words—regret, apology, and perhaps most importantly, a desire to heal what’s been broken.

“Brother,” she finally says, her voice tinged with emotion. “I’ve missed this—us, being together. I know there have been… difficulties, but I hope we can start anew.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the sincerity in her words. The distance between you hasn’t been easy, and the weight of your past grievances still lingers, but you find yourself nodding. “I’ve missed it too, Rhaenyra. We’ve both made mistakes, but we’re stronger together. Let’s try to move forward—for our family, for our father.”

Viserys beams at this exchange, his hand trembling as he lifts it to wipe away a tear. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. For all of us to be united, to leave behind the bitterness of the past.”

Alicent watches this with a soft smile, her hand slipping into yours beneath the table. “This is what he’s longed for,” she whispers. “You’ve given him peace, if only for tonight.”

As the meal continues, the tension that once plagued these gatherings begins to dissipate. Rhaenyra and Alicent exchange kind words, complimenting each other’s children. Daemon, though still carrying his usual edge, seems content to keep his barbs light, focusing more on keeping the mood lifted than on stirring the pot. Even Aemond, usually so guarded, appears more at ease, his exchanges with Jacaerys and Lucerys devoid of the usual undercurrents of rivalry.

At one point, Rhaenyra lifts her goblet again, a more private toast this time. “To new beginnings,” she says, looking at you with hope.

You smile, raising your own goblet in kind. “To new beginnings.”

The night stretches on, and for once, it feels as though the past might truly be put behind you. The bonds of family, strained though they’ve been, begin to mend. The ghosts of old wounds fade into the background as laughter, warmth, and shared memories take center stage.

Viserys, exhausted but happy, leans back in his chair, his hand resting on yours as he closes his eyes, a contented smile on his lips. “This… this is how it should always be,” he murmurs.

And for that night, at least, it is. Family, love, and unity win out, and the weight of the crown feels a little lighter.

From the Chronicles of King Y/N Targaryen I, The Reign of the Unified Flame

From “Fire and Blood: A History of House Targaryen” by Archmaester Melys:

Upon the passing of King Viserys I in the year 129 AC, the realm held its breath, fearing that the simmering tensions within House Targaryen would ignite into the civil war prophesied by many. But where the histories might have diverged into bloodshed and ruin, they instead tell a tale of unity and wise rule under King Y/N Targaryen, the Heir of Dragonstone, who ascended the Iron Throne as Y/N I, known to later generations as “Y/N the Peacemaker” and “The King of Balance.”

Though many lords whispered of conflict, it was King Y/N’s first decree that set the tone for his reign. Gathering his family—Queen Alicent, Princess Rhaenyra, and their respective children—he held council not in the Red Keep, but atop Dragonstone, the ancient seat of House Targaryen. There, in the shadow of their ancestors and the elder dragons, they swore an oath of unity before gods and men. It is said that Prince Daemon himself, ever the rogue, was the first to lay down his blade, pledging his loyalty to his nephew. With that, the seeds of war were quelled, and the Dance of Dragons was averted.

High Speton Eustace credits King Y/N’s wisdom and firm hand for this peace, stating, “His Majesty’s reign was marked by clarity of vision and an understanding that compromise is often the sharpest weapon.” Mushroom, in his typically bawdy accounts, attributes the peace to the deep affection between the King and Queen Alicent, jesting that, “It was her gentle whispers at night and not the threats of swords that kept the realm from tearing itself apart.”

Under King Y/N’s rule, Westeros saw another golden era of peace and prosperity. His approach to governance combined the fiery decisiveness of his Targaryen blood with a measured balance that many compared to his mother, Queen Aemma Arryn. The king’s court was diverse and inclusive; Princess Rhaenyra was granted full authority over the small council alongside her brother, with the Velaryons remaining staunch allies after the successful betrothal of Lucerys Velaryon to Rhaena Targaryen. Driftmark’s legacy was secured without further bloodshed, ensuring that the sea lanes of Westeros remained open and secure.

King Y/N’s family played a crucial role in his reign. His children with Queen Alicent grew into respected figures in their own right. Aegon, though restless in his youth, became a trusted commander, leading the royal navy in expeditions to Essos that solidified trade routes. Aemond, despite the loss of his eye, was known as “The Iron Shield,” a prince famed for his discipline and loyalty, who often served as Hand of the King when his father took to Dragonstone for respite. Helaena’s prophecies, often dismissed in earlier years, became valued by the court, guiding many decisions with a wisdom that bordered on the mystical. Daeron, the youngest, was known as the people’s prince, a bridge between nobility and common folk, fostering goodwill in the Reach and beyond.

The reign of King Y/N I was not without its trials. The Ironborn rose in rebellion more than once, but swift action by Aemond and Daemon in a rare alliance quickly subdued the threat. The Riverlands also saw unrest when Lord Grover Tully’s ambitions threatened to spill into open conflict, but the King’s deft diplomacy resolved the dispute before it could escalate.

Even so, the unity within House Targaryen remained the cornerstone of Y/N’s reign. It is said that Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent, once rivals after their marriages, grew back into a friendship they shared in their youth, sharing their roles as matriarchs to an ever-growing brood of dragonlords. Mushroom—never one to miss an opportunity for scandal—claims that their peace was ensured by shared interests in a secretive cabal of noblewomen, but wiser heads discount this as the jester’s usual mischief.

King Y/N’s dragons also played a vital role in securing his legacy. His bond with Dallax, the Night Fury, became legendary. Dallax, with his black scales and green eyes, was a fearsome sight in battle, but it was his presence at royal negotiations that often quelled rebellious lords before blood could be spilled. The dragon’s reputation as both guardian and enforcer of the realm added to the mystique of King Y/N’s rule. 

In 143 AC, King Y/N I presided over the Grand Council at Harrenhal, where matters of succession and law were codified, ensuring stability for generations to come. It was there that his wisdom was most evident; by balancing the interests of all regions and houses, he secured peace in the realm without resorting to brute force. When the Maester's Conclave reviewed the royal lineage in later years, it was agreed by many that King Y/N’s efforts had preserved not just the peace but the very legacy of House Targaryen.

Mushroom’s final words on the reign of King Y/N are perhaps the most fitting. “In an age where dragons danced upon the edge of war, it took not just a dragonrider, but a man who saw the value in holding back the flame, to keep the realm whole. Where others would have chosen fire and blood, he chose balance, and in doing so, left behind a reign that many would envy.”

King Y/N Targaryen I passed away in the year 150 AC, leaving behind a legacy of unity, prosperity, and a realm spared the horrors of civil war. His children carried forth his wisdom, and under their guidance, Westeros thrived in an era known as the “Second Golden Age.” And thus, the realm’s history turned, not on a dance of dragons, but on a single king’s steadfast resolve to keep his family—and his realm—united.

[binniesbooks]

halloo, I come with a request 🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️ ofc feel free to ignore it if you don't feel like writing about it or js don't like the request, that's totally OK!!

but I have been thinking about idol!soobin x fan!reader (feeding my delusions HAHAH) maybe the reader started out as a fan but at a meet and greet or something, she caught soobin's eye and then yada yada they get together !!

then, one day, y/n is on her phone and comes across an edit of soobin. ofc edits of him weren't anything new to her considering she was a fan before she got w soobin but this one caught her eye bcs it wasn't about soobin specifically but about his hands 👀👀 she saw it in a whole different light but ofc was too shy to tell soobin herself so she keeps it a secret

but then another day, in their shared apartment, reader is watching yet another edit of soobin's hands but what she doesn't know is that soobin came back earlier than usual and was right behind her, seeing the edit. that's when it clicked, why y/n was more nervous than usual these past few days, staring at his hands. and then well smut😌😌😌 (kinda mean dom soobin plsss)

feel free to alter it as u like or not do it at all HAHAHA just needed to get my thoughts out!! love yaa

-🤍

• CHOKING HAZARD

SB 000 .F23 2024

wc 4.1k

pairings meandomidolbf!Soobin x subfem!reader

warnings size kink, choking, fingering, slight oral (fem receiving) unsafe sex, pet names, cum eating, creampie, slight degradation (plus if I missed anything)

faye's note TOTALLY DOWN BAD FOR SOOBIN'S HANDS THAT I WOULD GLADLY SIGN A PETITION TO START A FANDOM FOR HIS PRETTY HANDS??? GAAHHH! Anyway, although I felt like it took me decades to finish this fic, I enjoyed writing this one. Hmhmhm. 🙂‍↕️

"Girl, I swear! He was staring at you the whole time!" Your friend exclaimed on your way home after attending a fan meet event with your favorite K-pop boy band, TXT.

"Stop with your delusions, Rain," you chuckled. "Why would my bias stare at me? That's impossible," you said, scoffing at the idea your friend had been conducting on your way home.

"Oh my god, you're such a dumb Soobrangdan, I swear! You're losing your chance!" Your friend was about to burst out, lucky for you, there are only a few locals riding the bus, and they're not paying attention to your friend making a fuss.

You glanced at the photo card dangling on your bag, your bias really looks handsome. You like the other four guys, but you’re committed to Soobin. The tall guy gave the cute yet sexy and hot aura. His bunny smile and pretty face made you fall for him over and over again. --- You we’re a total simp for Soobin.

"Here! Look! MOAs are uploading pictures and videos here and there. Take a look and tell me if I'm wrong!" Rain frowns. You took her phone and scrolled through the platform.

'She's so lucky! Soobin has been staring at her the whole time!'

'She's a Soobrangdan, right? How lucky!'

'Oh, to be stared at by your bias!'

'Prayer reveal, sis!'

It was true. Soobin was looking at you the whole damn time. He looks at the crowd for a second, quickly returning his gaze at you. Oh my god! What in the world have you done to be looked at like this by your bias?!

"Oh fuck, I hope Taehyun would look at me like how Soobin stared at you last time!" It's been a couple of months since the last fan meeting you attended. And this time, you are attending another fan signing event again.

You weren't expecting anything at all, or so you thought. Maybe, deep inside, you're expecting Soobin to recognize you from the crowd. For him to look at you the same way he did last time.

"You're the one who gave me the crocheted KARA lightstick last time, how could I forget you?" Soobin's bunny smile flashed right in front of your face. His big hand is almost covering your tiny ones.

You were giggling the whole time. His hand envelopes yours. He even held your wrist in an almost teasing manner as he compared your size difference. Soobin couldn't stop smiling either. He adores how your hand fits perfectly on his. How the size of your ring finger is the same size as his pinky finger.

And just before you move on to the next member, he sneakily wrote something on the album he was signing.

"I really recognize you, y/n. I hope we can see each other more often," he whispered. "And... don't let anybody touch this album aside from you, yeah?" He smirks as he slides the signed album towards you.

You went home in a dazed state. Your friend couldn't even talk to you properly, frustrated she just shut up. You weren't saying anything aside from the constant "huh?" and "mhm!", while you were clutching the album against your chest tightly.

After doing your nightly routine, you jumped on your bed. The white and orange-colored album caught your eye as you quickly got up and grabbed it.

Sniffing the album, you slowly turned every page. Admiring every beautiful face on each page. Until you saw his picture near the middle part—it was Soobin's picture.

'Hi pretty, call me if you're free.' was written on the edge of the page along with a phone number. Your jaw dropped to the floor, confused and baffled.

You were expecting something more like a sweet message or such, not a 'call me' note.

Yet you found yourself dialing the number written on the page of the album.

"H-hello?" You muttered when you heard a deep breath on the other end. "I-is this Soobin? Choi Soobin?" You were practically biting your nails while muttering the words carefully. What if it's just a bluff?

"Y/n?" the voice answered. Alas! It was Soobin!

"H-hi! I... I'm... I just--"

"Calm down, sweetie," Soobin chuckled.

You took a deep breath and whispered a soft hi. Soobin hums as an answer. The call was short, because Soobin was busy with his schedule. Well, that one-time call already meant a lot to you, who are you to complain?

A couple of months later, TXT organized another fan signing event for their comeback stage. This time, it was a lot bigger than the other. This time, thousands of people are expected to participate. And once again, you and your friends were lucky to acquire the VIP ticket.

It was a crisp autumn evening, and the anticipation in the air was electric. Fans from all corners of the city had gathered for the long-awaited fan meeting of TXT, their favorite boy band. Among the thousands in attendance, you found yourself at the front of the stage, heart racing as the boys took their places.

As the event kicked off, Soobin scanned the crowd, his gaze dancing over faces filled with excitement until it landed on you. You felt your cheeks flush, unsure if it was the light or the warmth of his gaze that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as his eyes locked onto yours, a playful smirk breaking across his face. You quickly looked down, too shy to hold his gaze any longer, but not before you noticed the playful glint in his eyes.

“Who’s ready to have some fun?” Soobin called out, his voice laced with enthusiasm. The crowd erupted in cheers, but all you could think about was that moment of connection. As the various activities unfolded—games, Q&As, and performances—you couldn’t shake the feeling that Soobin’s eyes kept drifting back toward you.

During a particularly lively segment, he started to walk toward the edge of the stage, playfully teasing the fans. You held your breath, half-expecting him to call someone else into the spotlight. Then, without warning, he pointed directly at you. “You! Come here!”

Your heart stopped. “Me?” You stammered, disbelief evident on your face as you made your way to the front. The crowd parted with laughter and cheers, urging you on. With each step, the adrenaline surged, and by the time you stood before him, your heart was pounding furiously.

“Hi! What’s your name?” Though his eyes were actually screaming, he knew your name, leaning closer, his warm smile making it hard to concentrate.

“Uhm, it's y/n," you managed, your voice barely audible above the loud cheers around you.

“Well, aren’t you brave?” He said with a playful wink. “I have a feeling you’re going to be my favorite fan tonight.

”You couldn’t believe it—he was flirting with you right there in front of everyone! The other members laughed and encouraged him, but he didn’t take his eyes off you. As the event progressed, he kept making lighthearted jokes, steering the attention back to you each time.

When the event ended, he stepped down from the stage and walked toward you. “You know,” he said, his voice low enough for only you to hear, “I think we should hang out sometime. I’d like to get to know you better."

Your breath caught in your throat as the other members around you gasped. Was he really asking you out? “Are you serious?” You asked, trying to mask the disbelief with a teasing smile.

"Absolutely,” he smiled back, mischief dancing in his eyes. “What do you say? Just us, away from the cameras and crowds?”

After exchanging contact information with a heart full of hope, your night wrapped up, but that was only the beginning. Over the next few weeks, Soobin kept his promise. Text messages turned into phone calls, and soon enough, the two of you were meeting in secret cafés, parks, and even sharing ice cream on chilly evenings. Each moment together deepened the bond you were forming.

Dating someone like Soobin wasn’t without its challenges; the scrutiny of being in the public eye weighed heavily on both of you. But amidst the noise, you found solace in the quiet moments—the way he would listen intently as you spoke, the laughter you shared over inside jokes, and the warmth of his hand finding yours.

One night, while walking beneath a canopy of stars, Soobin gently squeezed your hand and said, “I never expected to find someone so genuine in this crazy world. I’m really glad you caught my eye that day.”

With your heart racing, you looked up at him, his face lit with anticipation. “I'd never imagined myself dating you, Soob, I even thought you're joking. But... You’ve changed my life in ways I never could have imagined. You made me love life even more,” you sighed.

In that moment, the world faded away, leaving just the two of you standing under the sparkling sky, two hearts dancing to a rhythm that felt undeniably right.

"Were you watching edits of me again?" You were startled from where you were sitting when Soobin spoke.

"Oh my god, Bin! At least announce that you're home, else I’ll end up dying young," you joked, your hand still on your chest.

Soobin chuckled, planting a kiss on your forehead, "I did, sweetie. Maybe you're just too focused on what you were watching that you didn't even hear me. What if it's not me? What if it's a killer or a thief?" Soobin pouts as he melts into your arms.

"What the hell are you saying? Do they have the house key?" Your eyebrows raised into a frown and Soobin pouted.

It's been only 3 months since you started officially dating him, yet you knew almost everything about him. You're too familiar with when he's stressed out, or when he's angry, or when he just wants to be clingy.

One typical Saturday afternoon, while the sun was casting a warm golden hue across the room, you sat on your bed, scrolling through social media.

You found yourself watching a short video clip that featured your boyfriend in a relaxed interview setting. He was gesturing with his hands, those long, slender fingers of his gliding through the air as he spoke animatedly about his passion for music. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest as you admired his natural charisma. You had always found him attractive, but something about his fingers today set your imagination racing.

The way he drummed his fingers on the table, or how he would push his hair back while speaking, was captivating. You leaned in closer, your face flush with warmth, almost forgetting the world around you. The clip had sparked a whirlwind of fantasies in your mind, and you lost yourself in thoughts of how his fingers might feel on your skin, exploring and teasing.

Just as you were about to replay the video for the third time, you heard a soft click at your door. Your heart raced as you quickly looked away from your phone, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

To your surprise, it was Soobin himself, looking casual yet undeniably cute in his oversized hoodie. “Hey, i'm home,” he said, a playful smile spreading across his face. You froze, phone still in hand, the video still playing in the background as your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

“What were you watching?” he asked. You felt your throat go dry, words barely finding their way out. “Um, just a… a video,” you stammered, avoiding his gaze.

He stepped closer, his curiosity piqued. “Oh really? Is it something interesting?”

For a second, you thought of showing it to him, telling him about it, yet you shut it off and brushed it all aside.

"W-what do you want for dinner?" You muttered, shoving your phone in your pocket.

"Don't cook tonight, I booked a restaurant." Soobin smiled, shrugging off the matter that was the video on your phone.

You took a quick shower, picked some nice casual clothes, and took his hand in yours, walking hand in hand once again.

Soobin makes a joke about you might be cheating on him and that you're hiding something from him. But of course, you showed proof you didn't do anything of the sort.

Dinner went well. Aside from some pair of eyes probably boring holes in your skull, Soobin made you comfortable nonetheless. You had a good time with him again, after a while of being busy with his hectic schedule.

The next day, Soobin went out earlier than usual. They were called in for a sudden meeting for their upcoming shoot.

You were enjoying your time alone. Baking some goods for him to taste when he gets home. Cleaning and rearranging the house stuff for a cleaner and cozy space. You even changed the curtains, the sheets, the pillowcases, and the blankets.

After a whole day of cleaning, you sat down on your usual spot on the sofa, turning on your phone to consume some entertainment. You found yourself searching for the clip you had watched yesterday.

And once again, it made your head spin. His long and slender fingers look so pretty. His huge hand made you think about something unholy. Your fingers slowly digging into the soft pillow, your thighs rubbing against each other.

His eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “My fingers? What about them?”

You jolt up from where you were sitting, quickly shutting off your phone and shoving it face down on the couch.

"H-hey! Y-you're phone--- I mean home!" you exclaimed, quickly hitting your head and cursing yourself for messing your words up.

You felt your face grow even warmer, heart racing. The heat of embarrassment surged through you, but there was something unmistakably thrilling about his interest. Soobin tilts his head to the side, curious of what that was all about.

"They’re just… really nice,” you finally admitted, barely above a whisper, a mix of shyness and audacity washing over you.

Soobin’s smile widened, and a glimmer of something playful sparked in his deep-set eyes. “Nice, huh? I guess there are worse things to be complimented on.” He took a step closer, invading your personal space, making you acutely aware of how your body responded to his proximity.

You could feel the coldness of the concrete wall seeping through your thin shirt and kissing your warm back.

Suddenly, the air was thick with tension, a magnetic pull drawing you toward him. He leaned down slightly, tilting his head, his gaze locked onto yours. “You know, I can show you just how nice they are…” His voice dropped to a whisper, the teasing lilt sending shivers down your spine.

Without thinking, you leaned forward, and the space between you collapsed. The spark ignited, and Soobin captured your lips in a soft, tentative kiss. It was electrifying, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

As he pulled back, you gasped at the intensity of the moment, still dazed.

"Are you okay?” he asked, a mix of concern and mischief playing on his features. You nodded, your heart racing. “I think so… I just never imagined…”

“Neither did I,” he interrupted, his fingers brushing against your cheek, a subtle caress that felt intimate and exhilarating. “But sometimes, the unexpected can lead to something amazing.”

Before you could process it, Soobin pulled you closer, his lips finding yours again, this time more passionately. Your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you melted into him. You could feel his warmth radiating off him, igniting an undeniable fire within you.

As the kiss deepened, his fingers moved down your arms, tracing patterns that sent jolts of electricity through your body. You pulled back for a moment, eyes searching his. “Are you sure about this?”

His playful grin returned, and he nodded. “If you're down, I'm down. Who am I to decline? Besides, I think you need me," he chuckled as he gripped your waist.

With a rush of adrenaline, you surrendered to the moment, letting go of your shyness and embracing the connection between you. It was as if nothing else mattered; the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this shared sanctuary of desire.

The afternoon melted into an evening of exploration and passion, every soft touch and lingering kiss drawing you closer. Soobin’s fingers, the very ones that had ignited this whole encounter, explored your skin like an artist painting a masterpiece, each stroke igniting flames of longing in their wake.

"S-soobin," you choked out.

"Yes love? I'm here. I'm still here," he muttered, kissing your neck. He then pulled away and grabbed your arm, sniffing your wrist. "You smell sweet and amazing, did you take a bath already?" he asked. You simply nodded, pulling your hand away and wrapping them around his waist.

"Bedroom? I think I really need you right now," you bit your lower lip as you look up at him.

"You do?" Soobin taunts, lifting one of his hands, gently rubbing your lip. He pulled your lower lip down with his thumb. "I don't know what I could do to you. Your tiny body looks so frail and fragile compared to me."

"Please, need you..." Your eyes pleading to the tall man, rubbing your thighs together, wanting to finally feel him.

Soobin carefully wrapped his hand around your neck, slowly tightening his grip. You heard him curse under his breath when you gasped for air, clutching on his shirt. His grip easily made you lightheaded and your mind hazy. You're totally making him develop his size kink in a sexual way.

"B-bin... S-soobin..." You managed to squeak out as fat tears fell from your waterline. He pulled his hand away, and he watched you catch your breath, whimpering on his chest as you hugged him tight. Not wanting to let him know how turned on you are.

"Did I hurt you? I'm sorry, you just look... You looked so pretty when you're all drooling and crying with just my hand wrapped around your neck," he said as he hugged you back, his voice tinged with apology.

"F-felt good... Want more..." You admitted, burying your face in his chest. Soobin carried you all the way to your shared bedroom. Laying you down on the bed, carefully stripping you out of your thin clothes, and hovering above you.

"Y/n, if we don't stop now, I can't guarantee you I would be able to stop later on," he sighed, fingers gently brushing your plush thighs.

"Need you. Need you so much, please..." You begged, grabbing his toned arm. Soobin dipped his head down, kissing the tip of your nose.

"I love you, don't think that I only want your body. I love you because you are you, y/n." You weren't expecting him to spew assurance in the midst of this, especially since he was suddenly talking about your body, but it made you feel at ease for some reason.

He then grabs your hands, restraining them both with just a single hand above your head. "My hands and fingers are pretty, you say? Watch them for me, yeah?" he said as he slowly rubbed your clit.

"Mmphh!" You squirmed under him, a faint blush creeping onto your cheeks.

His digits slowly disappeared in your hole as he fucked you with his fingers. Grinning widely while watching your small frame thrash beneath him.

"Say it again," he commands, "That my fingers are pretty."

"B-bin mmphh! Your fingers are--- ahh! Are p-pretty!"

"How pretty are they?" he edged, curling his long fingers inside.

"Ohh! S-so pretty w-wanna c-cum--fuck ahh! W-wanna cum on them!" You managed.

"Mhm, go ahead, do it."

With a few more pumps, you came undone on his fingers, body twitching from sensitivity. His face lit up, looking proud that he managed to make you come on his fingers. When he pulled out his fingers, they were glistening with your arousal. Sticky. Wet. Creamy.

Yet your eyes were fixed on his essence-covered fingers. It didn't escape his sight, smirking as one nasty idea came to his mind.

He shoved his fingers in your mouth, letting you taste yourself. Allowing you to suck on his pretty fingers covered with your slick. Making you play with his fingers with your warm and hot tongue.

"Damn, you look so sexy like this. If only I knew about this, we should've done this earlier," he chuckled as he swirled his fingers on your tongue.

"Do you taste good? I bet you do." He smiled before pulling his hand away from you and dipping his head on the lower region of your body. Gripping your thighs to keep them open, licking a long stripe on your dripping pussy.

Your body arched as a guttural moan escaped from your mouth. "Damn, you do taste good, should've done this to you before."

If he has long fingers, no doubt that he has a long tongue too. That he could even tongue-fuck you and would possibly make you cum again if only he stayed longer.

Soobin pulled out a pack of condoms that had been sitting in his wallet for a long time now. "What if we hit it raw instead?" His voice was joking, yet you agreed.

Soobin was packing. Girthy --- Veiny. Thick. Long.

"B-bin too b-big!" You whined. He made you straddle him, claiming he'd reach deeper inside you in this position. Not to mention the pack of condoms discarded and long forgotten on the floor.

"Baby, you can take me. I know you can. You’re doing so good. Doing so fucking good, my pretty girl." His fingers traced the prominent bulge on your tummy. "See? I'm deep inside you. In here. Look. You're such a good girl," he coos, poking and pushing at the bulge.

His lips captured yours once again. Kissing you fervently yet carefully. "You're so tiny," he giggled as he leaned back, pulling your lower lip again with his thumb. He wasn't expecting you suck his finger into your mouth.

"Dirty," he remarks, and he felt you clench around his cock.

"Fuck, you want that? You want to be called dirty? To be called a slut?” He felt you clench around his cock again.

"Angel, didn't know you're this kinky?" he chuckled. "Aside from being choked, you quite love getting degraded, hm?"

"B-bin, 's too m-much?" You whined, wanting to hide on his neck, but he insists on watching your face contort as he rearranges your guts.

"Poor baby," he coos, red cock ramming your overstimulated cunt even harder. Your wanton moans got louder and high pitched. His thrusts got sloppy and erratic.

"Fuck, won't last long, mmphh!" His head thrown back as he grips your waist, pushing your body down on his cock, slamming through your cervix.

"M-me neither, please, n-need more," you whimpered.

One of his hands flew up to your neck, restraining your lungs to acquire enough oxygen, making your mind a little hazy and your pulse throb for a bit while he shoots his cum inside you.

"Shit!" he hisses, convulsing, as he leans his forehead on your shoulder, loosening his grip on your neck. The corner of his lips curled up when he heard you panting, gasping for air, your body twitching above him as you came undone for the second time. Your boyfriend developed many kinks, after all.

He slowly pulled away, a glob of cum flowing out from your spent hole. "Let's get you cleaned up," he whispers, along with the soft kisses being planted on your temple. You shook your head and pulled the blanket over your bodies instead, hugging him tight, neglecting the sticky feeling.

Soobin then decided to rest and clean up later. He doesn't want you to be sulky and mad anyway, so he just hugged you closer to him, gently massaging your sore body.

Smiling to himself with his eyes closed after realizing something. That when he chokes you, he now knows you love it. When he shoves his fingers on your mouth, he now knows you're reeling at the feeling. When he restrains both of your wrists with just a single hand, given how huge his hand is. He might be your big, clingy baby at times, but he's a total daddy in bed. He likes to show power and dominance towards you—his pretty little angel.

@binniesbooks 2024

[shinakazami1]

have you seen the promotional material from tsp greenlight? if yes i would absolutely love to hear your thoughts on it. otherwise i can go fetch it for ya

First - please check Maximum's art - one of my fav TSP artists fr fr <333 Thanks for the ask!!

I asked for the files and now I'm sharing it here for you guys, too of the original TSP: HD REMIX greenlight.

I want to say that the TSPUD release took some inspiration from this campaign and I will compare the two, focusing mainly on the greenlight as you've asked for it.

There is a lot to unpack here so, I will break this into a few parts.

TABLE OF CONTENT

1) Trailers 1a) The First Trailer 1b) The Raphael Trailer 2) Images 3) The FAQ (frequently asked questions) 4) Final conclusions

1a) The First Trailer

Let's look at this trailer first. From what I can tell, this is the first instance of the 2013 intro. The layout of the Parable is once again unique, which happens in other trailers, too.

What is intriguing is the ending.

The exit sign - was also visible in 2011 Escape Ending (with Curator), and 2013 (Mariella Ending - it's green). The only instance of it being above the door is the Demo (door close to 'Do you like the Stanley Parable' choice). It feels like a clever blend of the 2011 and 2013 ending to me, as the Narrator experiments more with the new placement. That's maybe why the layout feels isn't as familiar.

It's also the first instance where we see Stanley being conscious, besides the 2011 opening. From his perspective - he woke up to completely. Every video present in it is from the intro - which, seeing erratic movements from the camera, could mean those are new to him, too.

My take is this is where the Other Stanley comes in place. As he can move too, he might either be the guy who we see in the trailers OR, the one in the video. I like both interpretations

This trailer was reimagined for the PS5 release of TSPUD.

The layout is also different from the main game. What is intriguing, however, is the setup. While the intro does show the room from above, making this fake 427 room just a scrapped material, the fact that the new Freedom ending (look at the difference in the sky between the images), only furthers what I said in my prev post (about IOS release )

Conclusions:

For trailers, the Narrator likes to make new parts of the Parable and play with layouts, letting Stanley run around freely.

That Stanley might be The Other Stanley. These, besides the Escape Pod Ending, are the only spots that Stanley moves by himself.

The greenlight trailer is there to show the new content from the perspective of 2011 mod, with a small callback to the original.

Now, onto

1b) The Raphael Trailer

Link to it Before I get to the trailer, I just want to give a shoutout to a Raphael Parable mod. It's an interesting fan game and I truly admire it.

The orange walls are typical Source SDK engine ones, and we have the emotion boxes found later in the Demo.

Have this list tho because it's funny

It's the typical type of crazy list we see in the Demo, Disco, and iOS new content; I feel this is closer to most of them, written by the Narrator instead of Proctols like the Disco one.

It's also the first mention of other types of game and the Narrator's interest in them. The survival horror element with the Bicycle scene is really nice. It shows up later in the Memory Zone <3

In general - this is, before Cookie9, the first canon situation of the Narrator reading other people's feedback on the game. Just like with Cookie, he seems to take a proactive method with negative feedback, trying to show he can change. The attitude, however, also changed - for Raphael's ending, he is still 2011 way meaner self. The amount of sarcasm throughout the whole thing is so enjoyable and, whoever Raphael is, I hope he enjoyed this.

Conclusions:

The Narrator takes a proactive approach to critique that feels close to heart.

The construction part with desk 000 is shown for the first time - which could potentially mean each office number corresponds also to the part of office built.

2) The Images

There are 17 images in total. This part is also referenced in the PS5 TSPUD release video but also, if you look at the Mind Control Facility, some of the images are also used there as some of the room renders.

There are main three types of these images. The first, the contradictions that are also present in the PS5 video. It's a theme in the game in general to combine these, as The End is Never The End (thing that the PS5 text segment ends with) only shows it more.

The second element - image 7 mentioned multiple different games styles that just like the video, fits the fact the Narrator loves gaming.

But the third one is most interesting. The text in these seems conscious

For the person who could say this, it could be either The Narrator or The Settings.

a) The Narrator: - Asking someone for help when game doesn't work like he thought:

Demo: " THEY SAID THEY LIKED IT! I NEED SOMEONE TO STOP THE DEMO! HELLO??"

Expo Achievement Fix: "Who fixed it? Is someone here?" ;

Confusion" "Will someone come for us?" - Skip Button parallels:

Image 12: slow corruption and scattered mind,

Image 15: "I am in control" ("It's all out of my control now. ") ,

Image 16: repetition,

Image 17: the return to normality

b) The Settings Person / 432 / TimeKeeper : - This could be his first appearance in the series.

- References to 'someone' could be his coworkers.

- Image 12: we know the number 8 is significant in the game. Just like the Bucket and Gamborrata, we know there seems to be some spiritual stuff going on and that might be the exact moment when he became the Timekeeper.

- Image 14: "If someone could get rid of the text maybe then I would see what the game is about" seems not quite like The Narrator's thing to say, as it's his game. Rather than that, it feels like someone else could be involved. - and with the corruption, it feels like a great

- Image 15: "don't tell me what to do" and Image 17: 'Let's begin again' fit their Settngs Persona

Both interpretations are as likely and while I prefer it's 432, feel free to make your own interpretations :] Maybe it's even a new character we don't know!

EDIT: I want to just show the smallest text on image 14:

"I would just like to know who is writing all of this. Do you know who is doing that. Would you please ask them to stop? Because I'm trying to figure out what this game is about (covered)"

This one part could mean whatever we see here are transcripts of thoughts, or what the person is saying is either written on the slides as they speak (meaning someone IS observing them), or they possibly have internet access (Google Translator). Once again, both can be true for The Narrator and 432 but, I thought it was a neat detail :]

Now, onto the last part:

3) The FAQ

It ties a bit back to who might be the person speaking in the images. And here, I would say it's even harder to tell due to the answers.

The question that starts it all is this:

If you remember the iOS post, the Narrator will in the future to this say he holds back on the details. Of course, as this is Davey/Cakebread, it could be interpreted as one of the Proctols speaking.

The second part though, is really interesting.

The question of identity is one in gen also present in the game (i.e. Confusion ending).

But the ending note-

"I'm alone again, aren't I."

makes me feel that once again. This might be either a) someone else entirely,

b) The Settings Person (theme of loneliness, loss of identity, understanding of weird rules),

c) Or, for this one my favourite, The Narrator.

Skip: "And here I am now, stuck in a room waiting for you (...) and that I'm going to be stuck all alone(...)" 

Bucket apartment: "No, no no, no, no, no, no, no, what's going on? Why do I want to be with the bucket, hear what the bucket has to say do anything it asks, what's wrong with me? I don't understand!"

4) Final conclusions

First - thank you maximum for the ask. I had no clue about the Greenlight Steam page so, this was a delight to look through and analyse. Here are my final thoughts on this:

This was still a collaborative work for the Narrator. The construction work, the different characters seemingly present in the images and the FAQ work well with the Demo having mention of Proctols. He used some old ideas and is going into new territory.

Trailers are spaces for Stanley (or, the Other Stanley) to walk in peacefully without a player's interference. It's unclear which Stanley is it.

The critique was meaningful to him from the start. The way he responded to it felt similar, but the emotional impact seemed to have changed, just like he did between TSP and TSPUD.

Themes of madness and loss of identity are important in the game. It might be the first instance of The Settings Person appearance, but no canon information is shown.

The FAQ might be the last canon instance of him being directly in touch with the Proctols.

If you got to this part of the post - thank you :] Nine cookies for you!!

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