#it’s supposed to be step sibling romance

[intomybubble]

Aaaaaah the volume covers for Uchi no Otouto-domo ga sumimasen are really pretty

[velvrei]

logan dating tony starks daughter !!! like he wants to dislike you soooooo bad because he automatically assumes you’re some spoilt brat who’s always gotten anything and everything that she’s wanted without having to lift a finger but after being forced to spend time with you (probably because of missions) he can’t help but fall head over heels for you!!! that stark charm is definitely something to be in awe of (ur dad and him still despise each other tho)

the other stark

pairing: older!logan howlett x stark!reader

summary: logan finally meets you, tony starks daughter at an avengers gala. as much as he thinks you are a stuck up brat who has everything handed to her, he couldn’t wait to have his hands on you.

warnings: smut, age gap (legal), somewhat forbidden romance, slight degradation, praise kink, cowgirl position, face riding, oral (f receiving), kinda slow burn, kinda enemies to lovers, really filthy smut, intentional overuse of the word fuck at the end, tony is pissed when he finds out

word count: 5k

a/n: don’t look to closely on the gif cause you’ll find the part where i didn’t try

nsfw below the cut!

logan was not looking forward to attending the avenger’s ‘met gala'. mostly because he knew he would be meeting the folks he was supposed to despise the most.

tony stark invited the x-men as a way of trying to mend the rip between the two groups; it was always avengers vs. the x-men, never avengers and the x-men. tony wanted to change that. logan didn’t.

as everyone arrive, there was a little red carpet where several photographers stood, flashing pictures in the hopes of capturing good shots of each of the visitors.

the x-men limo slowly approached the curb, with spectators surrounding the vehicle as everyone exited.

logan huffed and climbed out the door, disregarding the fangirls that surrounded him, eager to get the night over with.

he walked up to the carpet alongside his team, each member getting a solo shot. when it was logan’s turn, he rested his face and let the camera take pictures of him, stood up straight.

he was wearing dress pants, a button up, with the sleeves rolled up just above his forearms, and a black vest over his button up. the shirt easily displayed his muscles, which he claimed was unintentional, but it was vastly intentional.

the paparazzi turned their cameras as another limo pulled up, and out came peter parker, and logan rolled his eyes knowing it was all the younger avengers.

logan couldn’t help but watch as peter stepped to the side, holding his hand out as he watched a woman get out. he gulped, seeing who the woman was.

it was you, tony starks daughter, or so he heard from his team. he had never actually met you. as much as he wanted to persuade himself he wasn't drawn to you, it would be a complete lie.

you were wearing a long, form fitting dress. it was a dark red, almost maroon. you wore gold heels and chunky gold bangles and necklace along with it, making sure it wasn’t just one color, which was something logan noticed.

peter stood at your side and it made logan a bit curious as to what your relationship with him was, but once he saw you two begin bickering he quickly realized it was more of a sibling relationship.

logan felt like he was going through the five stages of grief as the two of you walked over, followed by some others that exited the limo. you walked in front of peter, walking up to the red carpet.

logan was still stood in the middle, he quickly turned his attention in front of him, looking at the camera for the picture.

“logan! pose with tony’s daughter!” one of the men behind the camera shouted. peter shot you a protective look, however you just shook your head, silently telling him to calm down.

logan almost huffed as you walked up next to him, even though you had never met the man, it would be more embarrassing to turn down the offer in front of millions of people.

“logan.” you say.

logan questions the fact you know him, wondering if he should’ve done his research beforehand.

“y/n.” he responds. he knows your name, and that’s it. he knows nothing else about you, and he is almost sure he doesn’t want to know.

the more he stood next to you, the longer he saw how many times you posed for the camera, wanting to roll his eyes but holding back knowing that would definitely get caught on camera.

you gave a small smile to the camera, turning to logan as you stood next to him. the two of you stood together, nothing more.

logan saw it as awkward, while you thought nothing of it, walking off the red carpet as he followed, quickly finding his team in attempt to avoid speaking to you any longer.

…

it had been an hour and logan hadn’t seen you again sense the introduction. he knew he was bound to be brought back to you again, but he didn’t want to be the cause of it.

logan finally spotted wade, approaching him, trying to pretend that wade wasn’t his comfort person.

“well hello my second favorite furball! i’ve missed you.” wade’s words make logan roll his eyes.

“missed ya too, bub. i barely know anyone here.” logan admits, quietly. he looks around the room to see if he saw anyone else he was comfortable with, but he just saw you in the corner, casually chatting with thor.

wade gasps, beginning to speak loudly on purpose. “the wolverine doesn’t know people-” wade starts but logan covers his mouth, staring daggers into his eyes.

“shut the fuck up. now is not the time.” logan says rather quiet, seeming a bit panicky as wade furrows his eyebrows.

wade goes to say a muffled remark but catches where logan’s distress is coming from. logan slowly lets go of wade’s mouth, watching as wade’s face brightens as if a light bulb had just been placed over his head.

“is billionaire bitch still your opp?”

“stop fucking talking like that.”

wade couldn’t help but giggle. “is it because of tony? he’s trying to make amends, stud muffin. i don’t know why you’re stressed.”

logan goes to respond, but takes a second, actually processing. “i- i don’t know why i’m stressed either if im being honest.”

wade smiled, appreciating the fact that his friend was actually processing his feelings instead of pushing away. that was something wade had taught logan, which was something wade had learned from his therapist.

“logan, you can’t hate the avengers forever. we’re gonna be forced to work with them. and as much as you may hate the starks, i’ve already looked at the first mission list and you’re partnered up with stark’s daughter.”

logan practically chokes on his champagne as wade speaks his last sentence. logan didn’t know whether to be curious or incredibly annoyed.

“oh, fuck me…” logan complains, rubbing his forehead.

wade holds back a giggle, “oh, i’m sure she will.”

with a smack to wade’s arm, the two boys noticed you and your father making your way over to them. logan almost cussed out tony in his head.

tony walked up, you not far behind your father, you have wade a side hug and gave logan a hand shake, that was strangely quick. tony smiled his millionaire smile. “thank you guys for joining us tonight. so glad you could make it, and i’m so happy we can finally kill this little rivalry.”

you knew your dad was being fake, but it wasn’t your place to say anything, especially when it was against wolverine and deadpool.

logan spoke the words, “i’m happy to be here,” but his face showed different, which earned him a smack in the arm from wade.

“i bet. we have a lovely spread of finger foods and you’re more than welcome to help yourself to some more champagne. would’ve told you how expensive it was before you decided to chug it all, however that’s okay.”

logan literally bit his tongue to stop himself from retaliating. if it was really okay as tony offered, tony wouldn’t care of the price.

after a few more dreadful minutes of banter between the two, and many side eye looks between you and wade, tony walked away, leaving just you, wade and logan.

which wade quickly saw himself out. “i’m gonna go find the woman with the magic hands, been dying to meet her. you two fartknockers try not to kill each other, okay?” his voice seemed so sarcastic but wasn’t, which made you almost smile.

wade walked away and left the two of you there. logan sighed as you started talking.

“you know, you don’t have to avoid me, logan.”

logan’s eyes shot up into yours. he wasn’t avoiding you. was he? “excuse me?”

you almost huffed, watching as his body tensed up. you stood up straight, even though you were still a bit shorter than him. “logan. i am not my father.”

your words cause logan to scoff. logan knew you weren’t your father. he just saw you as an exact replica of your bloodline. he didn’t want to say that right to your face, but you noticed he was processing a response, so you ignored the awkward silence and let him get his thoughts in order.

“obviously, you’re not him. your father is a 55 year old billionaire with a mustache. however you two are more similar than you think.”

his words make you think for a minute, deciding to keep the conversation a bit flirty, as much as you convinced yourself it wasn’t a good idea.

“listen, my father and i are just like you and wade. one is the caustic, sassy fighter who never knows when to quit. and the other is the hot one who simply follows the other's example.” your remarks force his brow to furrow.

out of the long phrase you just said, logan only processed one thing. “did you just call me hot?”

you smiled, batting your eyelashes before answered. “no, i called myself hot. you just happened to assume we’re similar, proving my point.”

logan hated how self centered you were. key word, hated. logan slowly realized how attractive your confidence was, but covered it up through his grunts and complaints of how stuck up you were. you weren’t wrong at all. you were hot, and there was nothing he could do about it.

logan rolled his eyes, “of course. you evil woman.” his words were half sarcastic, but you smiled, quickly remarking to his comment.

“you can call me evil, lo, but you can’t call me ugly.” and with that you walked away, leaving him there in his thoughts for the second time that night.

logan huffed. he would be lying if he said your words didn’t get to him. but he couldn’t. he was over half your age, and your father was the one person on this earth he couldn’t stand.

…

the first mission was the hardest. you and logan didn’t agree on much, the two of you couldn’t even decide on what food the team should get after the mission.

with each mission, logan felt his hatred for you slowly slipping away. as much as he tried to keep it because of who your father was, he couldn’t help but secretly adore you. your confidence, your skills, your remarks.

when you shared missions, logan was always paired with you. wade was sometimes there, but sometimes it was just the two of you. logan was the muscles, while you were the brains.

as much as he hated that, each mission he found it easier and easier to protect you. at first, he almost didn’t want to, so that way you could possibly learn your lesson.

then, by the third mission, he was protecting you like you were his own. you noticed those changes, knowing you were slowly getting to the man.

it was the aftermath of the fifth mission. all the avengers and x-men rented out a hotel through tony’s card. it was a smaller one, but was able to fit everybody. each partner was neighbored, but thankfully for logan not in the same room if opposite genders.

so logan was lucky enough to have a room to himself, however, that meant sleeping on his bed, knowing yours was on the opposite side of the wall. the walls weren’t exactly thick, which made it harder for him to keep himself together.

he felt filthy as he listened to your phone conversation with one of your friends. he refrained his interest and was just laying in his bed, reading a book when something you said striked his interest.

he assumed your friend asked about the person you were partnered up with, because as soon as your name left his mouth he couldn’t help but listen.

“yeah, i’m with logan.” he perked up, placing a book mark into his book before placing it onto his nightstand. he felt creepy listening in on your conversation, but convinced himself he had every right because he heard his name.

he heard nothing but mumbles from your friend, before he heard you speaking again.

“yeah, i can’t even lie, everytime i walk past him i just… there’s just something about him being my dad’s least favorite person that makes me want him even more.”

logan was at a loss for words. you wanted him? no. you couldn’t. he was practically forbidden. he felt like a pervert at the fact that his pants were tightening.

the friend laughed, and logan was not tuned out from your conversation, wondering what should be done from there. he quickly reminded himself that was your private conversation that he wasn’t supposed to hear, so what he knows must remain a secret.

…

logan usually wasn’t one to get much sleep, especially during the nights during missions, and especially only hours ago he found out you had the hots for him.

it was around two in the morning. he tossed and turned, trying to figure out what he should do.

he paused, throat feeling dry. he stood, throwing on his pajama pants, not bothering to wear a shirt before he left his hotel room, walking down the single set of stairs to the mini den, where there was a small kitchen and some lounge chairs.

he unintentionally scanned the room, catching you sitting in one of the lounge chairs, book in hand and your reading glasses sat low on your nose.

he swallowed his spit, walking over the the cupboard and grabbing a small glass, filling it with clean tap water from the sink.

the noise of the water running through the sink brought you from your reading trance, you took your glasses from your face and set your book down, finally noticing logan’s presence.

you slowly stood up, and logan tried to ignore your actions. looking out the window above the sink and quickly downing his water.

before he could leave the room you stopped him. “got somewhere to be?” your words made him sigh, head falling down as he turned his body to you.

he shook his head, realizing his attempt to avoid you was unsuccessful. you gave him your signature smile, not breaking eye contact even though he was tempted to.

“just tired.” his eyes tell different. he wasn’t tired at all. just couldn’t sleep. he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to now that he was down here with you.

“why are you lying to me? why are you avoiding me?” your words slow down as you mention him avoiding you, making sure your sentence really sinks in to his mind.

you couldn’t help but eye his shirtless figure, noticing how defined his abs we’re and feeling yourself become wet because of how manly he looked.

he notices your eyes and gulps, you watch his adams apple bob, and he suddenly realizes he needs to not look like a fucking pussy, even though he feels like one.

“why do you care?” his voice is back to his usual raspy. there’s your boy. you smile, finally recognizing he was back to the grumpy man you know and forbiddingly wanted.

“am i supposed to not care because my dad doesn’t? because i’ve told you many times. i am not my father.”

logan couldn’t help but search your body up and down. his act of checking you out, which you caught, makes your smile grow. “clearly not.” logan murmurs.

you eyebrows raise, your eyes never leaving his. “is that flirty comment leaving your mouth?” your words make him almost stutter but he takes a deep breath to stop himself from being vulnerable around you.

“no. it’s only flirting if you take it that way. i’m not flirting with you. i can’t.” logan’s last words make you curious. was he not flirting because he didn’t want to, or cause he couldn’t?

“you can’t? cause of my dad? fuck who my dad is. as much as i love him he’s gotten in the way of almost everything i’ve wanted that didn’t follow his path for me. i’m not letting him ruin this for me.” his breath quickened as you continued, “sometimes a girl needs to be taken care of. no matter who it is..”

your words make his eyes widen. he didn’t even know what to say.

we’re you flirting with him? he knew based on your phone call earlier that you wanted him because of the thrill it brought. but was that the only reason? did you actually want him?

“is that right?” his voice is low, trying to hide his desperation, and his words make you realize you’ve got him. he’s slowly letting down his forbidden barrier.

which is exactly what you wanted.

you step closer to him. “exactly right.” you were so close to him, only a few inches from his face, his husky breath fanning your face, you were able to smell his minty toothpaste from when he brushed his teeth just a few hours before.

you smiled, trailing a hand down his arm, watching satisfied as he shivered beneath your touch. “feels good, doesn’t it?”

logan backed up, finally letting his head reprocess what was happening. “no. y/n. we can’t. we can’t.” he repeats, and you can’t tell if he’s convincing you, or himself.

"why not? cause of my dad? don't you want to anger him? make him mad? isn't that what you've always wanted? well his daughter is standing right here, begging you to take care of her, to show her how she deserves to be taken care of."

logan almost moans at the thought. you step closer to him again, hand running down his arm.

you watched as he shivered, but instead of stepping back this time, he leans into your touch.

he sighs, your touch calming his nerves. he looks down at you, jaw clenching. "i'm.. too old for you. you deserve someone younger."

his words almost make you scoff in disagreement, and you couldn't help but disagree more with him.

"younger? all the guys my age are either assholes or taken, logan. i need someone older, to take care of me, to show me what it's like to be treated right, and fucked good. wouldn't you rather that that be you, rather than another man your age?"

it's like you knew just what to say, because he was standing there, as his dick hardened in his pants at your words.

he wanted you so bad. he didn't know what to say. he wanted to protest, for your sake, all he knew is that he wanted you so fucking bad.

your name tumbles from his lips, trying to think of what to say next.

“don’t tell me we can’t. because we can. we can do whatever we fucking want. we’re adults, aren’t we, lo?”

he sighs as the nickname slips from your mouth, he bites his lip, looking down at you, searching your eyes for any hesitation. he found none. just pure lust. he almost moaned as you gazed into his eyes, pupils dilating slightly.

“we are.” is all he says, eyes looking from your pupils, down to your lips. he licked his, eyes sharpening as he perked up.

you smiled up at him, batting your eyelashes, practically daring him to make the first move.

you decided to tease him a bit more, knowing exactly how to irritate him.

“i could always, go find another older guy to take care of me.” your words caused him to growl, slightly, jaw clenching at the thought of you with another boy, let alone an older guy.

“hell no. you’re mine.” his words make you smile, your expression still facing away from him as you turned your head, raising your eyebrows at him.

“i’m yours?” your words slightly questioning him, “prove it.”

at that moment, logan felt all his control slipping away.

the moment he’d been waiting for had finally come, he could finally devour you the way he had dreamed about many nights before.

you started to walk away, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you back in his direction and turning you around.

his hand wrapped around the back of your neck, his other on your waist, bringing you closer and finally connecting your lips with his.

he moaned into the kiss, knowing this was the moment he’d been waiting for. his lips were hungry, he was hungry.

logan let his hands roam along your body, both going down to grab your ass, squeezing and chuckling as you squealed into his mouth, taking that as his chance to slide his tongue into your mouth, touching yours.

he couldn’t help but moan as your lips wrapped around his tongue, sucking on it.

your eyes looked at his. causing his body to tremble at how dirty you were being.

he quickly squeezed your ass again, as the two of you continued to kiss, spreading your legs and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“who knew you were so fucking naughty.” he whispered against your lips, pecking them after speaking then setting you onto the counter.

he stood in between your legs, hands running up your thighs, noticing how short your sleep shorts really were.

he kissed you again, kissing your jaw and continuing down your neck.

he made out with the sensitive skin just below your chin, panting as your head fell back gently against the cupboard.

his hands slowly went under your t-shirt, nails running against your torso, and up to your chest, squeezing, hearing as you moaned, quickly bringing one out and covering your mouth.

“gotta stay quiet, sugar. wouldn’t want your father hearing and getting curious.”

you moan into his hand, and he just chuckles at you, enjoying how needy you’re being just for him. he’s grunting against your skin, his hand moving faster than his brain.

he tries to ignore the fact his dick is practically leaking in his pants as his hand runs up your thigh, closer and closer to your core.

his face is still in your neck, as his hand pushes your shorts and underwear aside, his other still around your mouth to silence your sounds.

he quickly slips a finger in your pussy, smiling into your neck as he feels you moan into his hand. he pressed a kiss against your neck, as he wasted no time, thumb rubbing against your clit as his finger penetrated your hole.

he stuck another finger in, loving the fact he had you trembling under him. his two fingers curved inside of you, watching as your thighs shook at his unexpected action.

you whined into his hand, almost biting down onto his fingers.

he noticed that and removed his hand for a brief second before slipping his fingers into your mouth.

his lips moved from your neck to your ear. “god, look at you, letting my fingers stuff two of your holes,” he moaned around your fingers, smiling to himself as he shoves them down your throat.

his fingers leave your mouth after making you gag, his other set of two fingers still inside your pussy.

his other hand went to your neck, holding it as he licked a long stripe up and kissed it, nibbling on your soft skin.

“fuck, if your dad walked down right now and saw how much of a slut you’re being for me. would piss him off so bad, wouldn’t it, sugar.”

his words made you bit your lip, holding back your whimpers and whines as his fingers relentlessly pounded into you.

you finally let out a whimper, causing his smile to grow, his fingers leaving your pussy, leaving you slightly stretched out.

he placed a sweet, quick kiss to your lips before slipping you off the counter and into his arms, carrying you bridal style.

he walked you upstairs to his hotel room, kicking the door open then kicking it closed behind him.

“sweet girl couldn’t handle being quiet, felt too fucking good didn’t it?”

he set you down, forcing you to stand, sitting himself on the bed. he unintentionally manspread, holding himself up on his elbows. “come on sugar. strip for me.”

his words only encouraged you, smiling as you took off your shirt in a teasingly slow manner, leaving you in your lace bra and skimpy pajama shorts.

he bit his lip, eyeing you up and down. normally you’d feel intimidated, but you’d been waiting for this moment for weeks. there was no time to be intimidated by him.

you smiled as you slowly slid your shorts down your legs, revealing the matching panties, causing his head to fall back.

“a matching set? you planned this, didn’t you?”

all the dots connected in his head and he couldn’t help but moan at the thought of you planning to seduce him, and the fact you wanted him that bad to make a whole plan.

he brought his hand up, using his two fingers to signal you closer. without a word you stepped closer to him.

you straddled his body, leg wrapping around his waist, before you move his elbows and push him back onto the bed.

he moaned as you did so, looking up at you with wide eyes. “oh? is that how we feeling, sugar?” his words only made your confidence grow, palms resting on each of his pecks.

you tilted your head slightly, bringing one hand down to his pants, slowly palming the sensitive area you were sitting on.

“yeah, don’t act like it doesn’t turn you on, either. i feel you through your pants. your little friend here’s practically screaming for me to touch him.”

your hand palms him, slowly gaining speed as logan feels his breath hitch, heart skipping a beat. the friction of your hand manipulating his clothed dick only made him harder, head falling back onto the bed, as his back arched like a slut.

the material of his pajama pants stimulating his cock in all the right places.

at this point your cunt was sticky, logan could almost feel it through the two articles of clothing, forgetting the fact yours was extremely thin.

“feels good, doesn’t it? you were already so fucking hard, lo. does it turn you on that i’m so much younger than you? that this is forbidden?” your words only make his hips buck into your hand, mouth falling open.

you smiled grew, biting your lip as you watched his desperate. “god, it does, doesn’t it? you gonna let me ride you?”

logan moaned and nod his head, “if you’re not inside me within the next ten seconds i’m flipping you over and fucking you myself.” his words made you moan, losing your dominance, feeling the sudden need for him to demolish you.

“really, you don’t want me to sit on your face?” logan’s mouth watered at your words, quickly changing his mind.

he moaned, “wait, fuck yes. give it to me. come here and sit on my fucking face.”

you stood off him, slowly taking off your panties, then bracing yourself and climbing back on top of him, slowly making your way up to his face. you smiled, seeing logan’s desperate expression, as if he needed your pussy in order to live. he yearned for you, and it made you wetter at the sight.

you slowly hovered over his face, lowering onto his mouth, moaning as soon as his nose rubbed against your clit.

his tongue immediately went to your hole, tongue fucking you. you couldn’t help but squirm, moaning again as you felt his arms wrap around your thighs, holding you onto his face.

logan is loving the desperate way you try to bite your lip to keep yourself from being too loud, as if anyone was up at this hour.

"eating me so fucking good," you moan out, feeling as logan moans against your cunt, your words were like fuel to him, and he found himself bucking his hips at nothing because of how beautiful and desperate you sounded.

you adored how eager he was for you, causing you to scream as he moved his tongue quicker, eventually moving his entire face after noticing your liking for his nose on your clit.

he was getting so into it, being so messy, pussy clenching around his tongue, but he slowly removed his arms from your legs, lifting you off his face, then down to his abs, uninstall sitting your clit onto his hard abs, causing you both to moan.

“fuck, need you to cum on my dick, you can cum on my face later. i need you now. need you to ride me so good.”

logan moaned out as you quickly moved down, pulling down his pants and boxers, and with no warning, quickly sinking onto his dick.

logan moaned out slightly louder than you, making your smile grow.

you slowly took your hair out from the ponytail it was in, letting it fall down. logan looked up at you in awe, watching as you started to ride his cock.

“i’ve imagined this so many times, and god, nothing is better than it actually happened. you’re so fucking beautiful.”

you smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, cupping his cheek before placing your hands to his v-line, using his hot body to brace yourself as you rode his thick cock.

as you began to bounce, logan was a moaning mess. he started fucking up into you, “come on sugar, ride it.”

his words of encouragement made your moans become louder. he smiled up at you, his hands now holding your hips, holding you in place as he fucked up into you.

“that’s it, baby. take it, take my fucking cock. so fucking tight around me.” he eyes moved from your glowing body, down to your pussy, practically sucking his dick in.

“look at you, sucking me in so good, like she was made for me. fuck.” he looked at your stomach, practically seeing a bulge move in and out of you.

“can see me in your tummy, fuck,” he points out, and you look down and moan. you smiled at him, watching his glistening body, as sweat droplets formed on his forehead.

“god that’s so hot, you’re so fucking big. told you i needed an older guy to take care of me.”

his name tumbles from your lips, he sees you in your desperate state. the two of you both feel your climaxes reaching closer, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer if he kept talking to you like that.

“good fucking girl.” his voice was so low and raspy, you couldn’t help but moan.

logan enjoyed the fact he had tony stark’s daughter currently bouncing on his cock, begging for more. it was forbidden, and the thought alone almost made him cum.

“you keep talking to me like that i’m gonna cum,” your voice is desperate and needy, and that turns him on to the max, slowly feeling himself reach the edge. he grunts, jaw clenching, feeling himself go almost animalistic, he grunts through his teeth.

“come on sugar. that’s it. cum on my fucking cock. riding me so fucking good i’m gonna cum myself. want you to moan so loud tony hears you from the floor below and knows his arch nemesis is fucking his daughter. wanna see my cum spill out of this sweet little pussy of yours.”

his words carry you over the edge, as he continues to talk you through it. “that’s it, bub, i’m so fucking close. this pretty little pussy is sucking me in so good, yeah i feel you clenching. dick so good it has you trembling, huh, sugar?” you cum on his cock, legs shaking as you stop bouncing, but logan grabs your hips and drills into you, chasing his own climax.

you feeling extremely overstimulated, you couldn’t control your whimpers and whines and how loud you were. logan finally came with you, mouth falling open as he grunted, moaned, and even almost whimpered.

your eyes scrunch shut, when you finally are able to open them you see logan under you, body glistening in sweat, his eyes closed shut and his head pushed back into the pillows, holding your hips so tight, like if he lets you go you’ll leave.

you smile as you come down from your high, logan quickly following you, his smile growing as his eyes meet yours again.

“that what you meant when you said take care of you?” his cocky words make you smack his bare chest, slowly pulling off him, your cum and his cum slowly spilling out of you, getting both of your attention.

“fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” logan mumbled under his breath.

you almost moaned again, feeling empty as you pull his cock out of your pussy, the cum dripping onto his v-line and abs, making your smile grow.

“yes, this is what i meant. fucked me so good.” you giggled, going to get up but logan flipped you over gently and pushed you down onto the bed.

“lay here, sugar. i’ll clean you up.”

logan grabs a damp, warm rag from the bathroom of his hotel room, bringing it to you and wiping up the cum, once you’re fully clean he tosses it into the hamper across the room. he goes to his bag, grabbing one of his shirts and walking over to you.

he smiles and carefully brings it over your head, finding your tired state adorable.

once you have the shirt on, you lay down in the bed, pulling the covers over you sleepily, as he puts his pajama pants back on, climbing back into bed next to you.

…

the next morning, logan isn’t in bed with you, you check the time and it’s about 10am. your mission didn’t start for another few hours, so you decided to go downstairs and get yourself some of the hotel breakfast.

you slipped on some sleep shorts and slowly walked out of your room, down the stairs and into the kitchen where breakfast was being served.

you walked over to the counter, putting waffle batter into the waffle maker and turning around, trying to find your dad within the many avengers and x-men sat around the mini tables, but when you saw almost everyone staring at you, some with their mouths slightly open, you became confused.

you turned to see your dad, tony, sat at a table with steve, thor and bruce.

tony almost gasped as you turned around and continued making your waffle, not caring how loud he was.

“why the fuck does the last name on the back of you shirt say howlett.” as soon as your dad reveals that information, you avoid turning back around to face him.

logan smiles from his seat, watching as tony slowly turns to look at him at the table near him.

tony’s eye twitches as he looks over at logan. logan unfortunately cant hide his amused expression, almost giggling at the situation, watching as wade walks into the room, also noticing the back of your shirt.

wade jumps up and down, clapping his hands together. “is that logan’s shirt! omg, they finally fucked!”

bruce and thor can’t help but giggle to each other, as steve holds in his laugh.

tony eyes shoot from wade to logan, practically shaking from how mad he was. it was something logan wanted to take a picture of and remember forever.

“you stuck your dick in my fucking daughter!?” tony’s loud, obviously unhappy voice made you slowly turn around, you and logan making eye contact trying not to break into laughter.

“am i the only one furious at this? why the fuck are you all fucking laughing!?” tony shouts, standing up, almost spilling his coffee all over the table.

…

a/n: don’t forget to comment and tell me your thoughts ;)

[missglaskin]

Yandere Aegon's Conquest (platonic) headcanons

AKA Aegon, Visenya and Rhaenys as your yan!parents + Aenys and Maegor as your yan!Brothers

Characters: Aegon the conqueror, Visenya Targaryen, Rhaenys Targaryen, Maegor & Aenys Targaryen, Orys Baratheon

Note: Adopted and female!reader, toxic relationships, some interpreted romance/incest, Fire and Blood spoilers

You may have joined the Targaryen family through any of them. Brought to King's Landing as an offer, a hostage from Dorne. Whatever the reason was, you have now become the obsession of three dragon riders.

Naturally, there was some opposition at first. It's enough to keep a whole kingdom together; with lords either bending the knee willingly or by force, having the faith tolerate their marriages, and now they bring a child into the fold who didn't seem to bear much resemblance.

Yet despite widespread opposition, there was utter silence when it became evident what would happen if someone were to comment on your legitimacy. It's frightening to face Aegon's wrath, but he and his sisters combined; downright terrifying. 

They tended to differentiate when it came to ways of parenting. You would have likely been overindulged if it weren't for Visenya, who adopted a stricter role in place of Rhaenys and Aegon. On the other hand, it's Aegon who adopts the role of the meditator, keeping the peace whenever his wives come to disputes.

Orys is the only one Aegon truly trusts along with his sisters and despite Rhaenys and Visenya sharing Aegon's trust, they're not exactly thrilled about sharing you with anyone else. It’s noticed how quickly Orys steps into the role of an uncle, adding more fuel to the gossip (being Aegon’s brother). Like everyone else, he's just as protective and is more than willing to personally handle anyone who dares to cross you. But also similar to Aegon, beyond being protective, he's pretty laid-back. During your younger years, he'd times have you seated on his lap or playfully throw you up in the air.

As mentioned, Visenya is fiercely protective and sometimes may come off as a bit harsh, but her intentions are solely for your well-being. Her kingsguards are not only ordered to protect the king but are specifically trained to protect their little princess. She’s involved in your education, ensuring that you embrace your ‘Valyrian’ heritage. 

Each day she’ll have you rehearse your words, recount the history of your family house, and fulfill all your supposed duties. It’s Aegon and Rhaenys who urge Visenya to give you a break from time to time (not just because they want to spend time with you). Visenya also insists on training you despite her brother and sister’s wishes. Rhaenys thinks your gentle hands shouldn’t touch a blade with Aegon claiming you’re protected enough.

While they might disagree on many things, both Aegon and Rhaenys agree with Visenya's idea of giving you your own dragon egg. Given as a gift on your nameday. And even if the dragon hatches and you may never ride it, they are sure to let it recognize you as their owner; to let it be yours and yours only. Besides it’s further proof to the rest of the kingdom that you’re indeed one of them.

Like Visenya, Rhaenys is very much involved in your life and rarely lets you out of her sighs. She’s much smothering and the most affectionate out of her siblings, known to watch you with great fondness and expect to be praised for even the smallest accomplishments.

Rhaenys takes charge of your wardrobe, dressing you in the colors of House Targaryen and embellishing you with all sorts of jewelry. The many songs she has ensured to be dedicated, praising your elegance and beauty that they are believed to have passed down generations.

That’s not to say Aegon isn’t involved, he is but tends to be overshadowed by his sisters; finding himself stuck in the middle of their disagreements. Despite this, he makes his stance known and will use all types of excuses to steal you away. Aegon goes as far as making you his cupbearer, though while the council members are hesitant to take you away from the king's side. Only Orys dares to have you come and fill his cup.

They often find themselves in childish arguments on who you should ride with. Aegon occasionally claims victory, it helps Baelrion is the largest. In fact, whenever any of the siblings go for a flight, they are likely to bring you along. During their shared flights, they would showcase all sorts of tricks like getting close to the water or letting their dragons spit fire in the open air just to witness the excited look on your face.

Aegon spoils you (rotten) and is ready to fulfill almost all your whims and desires. While he’ll gladly gift you with jewelry and gowns like Rhaenys, Aegon is more inclined to make grand gestures like contracting statues and naming things in your honor. If you were to ask, he'd happily construct a bathhouse, a vast garden, you just need to ask.

Aegon is surprisingly someone you find it easy to turn to whenever you get in trouble, along with Uncle Orys. He's perfectly fine with you doing your own thing, playing away while he watches from a distance.

Despite their occasional arguments, at the end of the day, they are united through their care for you. You mean everything to them, and though each may express it differently, they all just want to see you happy and safe.

Adding Maegor and Aenys into the mix just makes everything more chaotic. While it's not much of a hidden secret that Rhaenys and Visenya favor you, they attempt to keep it subtle. Aegon isn't very adept at hiding it, and there have been discussions where he expresses the desire for you to be his heir instead. However, by the Westerosi tradition, Aenys is the expected heir.

Aenys and Maegor are particularly attached to you, even when their parents clearly seem to favor you. Being a bit older than Aenys, Rhaenys actively encouraged the bond between you two. She always insisted your small self to hold him and it became well-known among the castle servants that baby Aenys would cry until you came at his side. 

The death of Rhaenys threw everything into chaos. Visenya and Aegon, if possible, became even more protective, god forbid if Dorne were to make an attempt (or try to bring you back). You became the outlet for their grief, with Aegon demanding your presence more than ever. Aenys clung to you for comfort, a child who doesn’t seem to fully understand where his mother went. 

A year or two passed before Maegor was born, and he was already different from the start. Aenys, always smaller than the other kids, remained easily carried by your child self even as he grew. You'd lift him up on your back as he squealed with delight, but Visenya would scold you; your back could get hurt and Aenys is heir, he must be expected to behave like one.

Maegor, on the other hand, was bigger than most kids, with round and full cheeks that you couldn't resist poking and pulling. Similar to Aenys, he constantly demanded your attention, but unlike Aenys who cried, Maegor caused tantrums, pushing other kids you interacted with and throwing things until he got the attention he sought.

A rivalry started between the brothers, and more often than not, you found yourself in the middle of it, but it was mostly one-sided with Maegor often starting the conflicts. Moreover, Aegon directed most of his attention toward Aenys with kingdom duties and all, leaving you mostly with Maegor and Visenya.

Unlike Rhaenys, who didn't have the time to mold her son, Visenya did. She made sure that her son knows that it’s his duty to protect and care for you, deeming Aenys as weak in her eyes. Maegor learned to value you above all else. Sparring was no longer necessary, as according to Maegor he’ll be the one to protect you from now. In one incident, Maegor attacked a noble boy who had jokingly insulted you. Aegon and Visenya never punished him, with the excuse that Aegon didn't want to cause a scene.

Aenys, much like his mother, is naturally affectionate. Openly embracing you in front of the entire court or hold your hand as you walk together. Such displays of affectionate were a never-ending lecture from Visenya and Aegon and all it did was fuel Maegor’s jealousy. 

As all three of you came of age, there was a flood of suitors vying for your hand in marriage. Aegon would use any excuse to deter them, but deep down, he secretly wished to wed you to Aenys but he knows Visenya might insist on Maegor instead, further fueling the rivalry between the brothers. The reactions of your brothers toward your suitors only intensifies, with Maegor eagerly challenging anyone who seeks your hand and Aenys wearing a mask of happiness for you while secretly desiring to have you all to himself.

It becomes even messier if the brothers are wed to other women. Alyssa and Ceryse, in particular, feel the pressure to be on your good side, knowing that a gesture from you could sway their husbands in your favor. Despite being married to them, the wives can't shake the feeling of being the "other women". The awkwardness is heightened by Aenys, who insists on you being close to his children, going so far as to let you be one of the first to hold baby Rhaena. 

The family was struck with a moment of grief upon Aegon's death, leaving Visenya as the sole parent. With Aegon, and even Orys, no longer present, Visenya had the freedom to enforce her regulations and expectations without interruption. Maegor, being a wild card, proved difficult to control. Despite Aenys' perceived weakness, he stepped into Aegon's place, not directly opposing Visenya and Maegor but making it clear that you were a line not to be crossed. Your place is to be with him and his family, by his side in council. 

Aegon's death set off a chain reaction, fueling the underlying war within the family that had already been brewing.

[marichive]

100 INDULGENT TROPES

A collection of one hundred tropes of varying nature. Spiritual successor to my previous An Extremely Self-Indulgent Meme. Some of these pair well together and can easily be sent in various combinations. Some are also highly suggestive in nature. Engage appropriately.

one muse steps protectively in front of the other

one muse tends to the other’s injury

one muse is not acting like themselves and the other has to snap them out of it

one muse kisses the other during an argument

one muse pins the other to a wall

one muse kisses the other on their hand or wrist

one muse kisses the other on their neck or shoulder

one muse helps the other put on a necklace or tie

our muses aren’t supposed to be together but keep meeting anyway (on purpose or by accident)

our muses have a secret relationship

one muse takes a blow meant for the the other

one muse fights away enemies attacking the the other

one muse asks the other for their favor / a token before battle or a tourney

our muses share a night together believing it might be their last

our muses are in an arranged marriage / betrothal

our muses willingly marry for political reasons

our muses get married for love

our muses get married in a spur-of-the-moment decision

one muse has taken the other captive

our muses are in love but one thinks they aren’t good enough for the other

our muses are forced to ally for a common goal

our muses are enemies or former enemies but have started to fall for each other

our muses claim to hate each other but there is palpable tension between the two

our muses are trying to manipulate each other

one muse is trying to manipulate the other

our muses have feelings for each other but have conflicting loyalties

our muses are friends but have started to fall for each other

our muses are childhood friends that have been slowly falling for each other over the years

one muse has been in love with the other for a long time but is afraid their feelings are not reciprocated

one muse is in love with the other but they are in a relationship with or engaged to another person

our muses engage in a courtly romance

one muse is a knight in service to the the other’s family

one muse seeks comfort from a loveless marriage with the other, their lover

one muse traces the other’s scars

one muse kisses the other in a moment of heightened emotion

one muse confides in the other in a vulnerable moment

our muses are in love but circumstances prevent them from being together

our muses are exes who discover lingering feelings after reuniting

one muse confesses love to another after that person is injured

one muse confesses love to another because they believe they may die soon

our muses must share a bed

one muse lifts the other’s chin to look them in the eye

one muse places a hand at the back of the other’s neck to pull them extremely close

our muses have been hooking up, no strings attached

our muses have been hooking up, but one or both has developed deeper feelings

our muses are exes that hook up against their better judgement

one muse presumes the other is dead but is shocked when they show up alive again

one muse betrays their long held loyalties in order to save the other’s life from their own allies

our muses fake a relationship but have no actual interest in each other

our muses fake a relationship but start to genuinely fall for each other

one muse is known for their hard exterior and softens only in the other’s presence

one muse is the other’s weakness, something an enemy is trying to exploit

our muses are stuck somewhere together and must occupy their time

one muse has feelings for the other but has not acted on them due to their association with another character (a sibling / relative / ex / etc. ) or an organization

one muse is scared to act on feelings for the other due to poor experiences with love in the past

one muse is oblivious to the other’s feelings for them

one muse acts oblivious to the other’s feelings for them but really they are aware

one muse has unrequited feelings for the other

our muses are co-workers engaging in a hidden romance

one muse reveals one of their darkest secrets to the other

one muse comforts the other during an emotional breakdown

one muse calms the other from an intense rage

one muse’s family forbids them from seeing the other

our muses are in love but their friends / family do not support their relationship

one muse seeks redemption for past actions and comes to the other to atone

our muses regularly exchange letters

our muses move in together

our muses adopt a pet together

our muses have a child together

our muses adopt a child together

one muse discovers they are pregnant by accident

our muses have been set up by mutual friends

our muses have been set up by a matchmaker

our muses are in love with each other but are in denial

one muse is the other’s bodyguard / protector

one muse is royalty while the other is a commoner / rogue / societal outcast

one muse kisses the other for a bet

one muse relentlessly flirts with the other

our muses kiss for the first time ever

one muse wins a date with the other at an event

our muses dance together for the first time

one muse brushes their fingers through the other’s hair

one muse drunkenly confesses something to the other

our muses drunkenly hook up and wake up next to each other

our muses are roommates

our muses are partners in crime

one muse is a supernatural creature who falls for the other, who is a mortal

our muses are supernatural creatures from opposite clans or species that are historically hostile to each other

one muses is under a spell / in the middle of a monstrous transformation but somehow recognizes the other and refrains from harming them

our muses cuddle for warmth

our muses run away together

one muse wears piece of clothing or jewelry that belongs to the other

our muses bathe together

our muses cook together

our muses cuddle in bed

one muse serenades the other

one muse holds a weapon to the other as a threat

one muse physically lifts the other up

one muse protectively wraps an arm around the other

meet cute !

[pascaloverx]

DANDELIONS

Summary: You are the new guest of the Bridgertons. Your mother, an old friend of Lady Violet Bridgerton, has requested that you spend a season at the Bridgerton house in hopes that you will change your perspective on true love and marriage. You are convinced that love is a fictional construct and that a marriage without love will be your downfall; but some time with the Bridgerton siblings might change your mind.

Author's Note: The characters belong to the Bridgerton universe and Julia Quinn. However, the story will have some changes from what happens in the Bridgerton series (2020-). Dear readers, this story may contain strong language and steamy romance scenes. It may even feature a love triangle. Be warned and enjoy the reading.

AO3 LINK TWO

ONE

"A great idea," you grumbled the entire way from your house to the Bridgerton house. Your mother had told you it would be an excellent idea for you to venture into society. "An independent mission," she said. Your father is so ill and trapped in his own world that he didn't mind letting his only daughter go to a stranger's house. Your mother has given up on arranging a conventional marriage for you. She doesn't respect the fact that you don't want a marriage like hers. You wonder if it's so wrong to want a marriage filled with tenderness, passion, love, or any feeling other than indifference. You basically grew up knowing you were the product of an obligation. The only child your parents managed to conceive before your father became too ill to have more children. Or rather, before your mother gave up trying to love him. When you were born, at least she had shed the moral burden of having to provide your father with an heir. Obviously, both she and he had hoped you would be a boy. But you think that over the years they have grown accustomed to you. This year, for some reason, your mother wants you to get married. Perhaps it's because your father is on the brink of death. If you find a husband who can manage your father's properties and investments, maybe you will become something useful to your family. Your father only mutters about wanting a male grandchild to carry on his legacy, and your mother wants you married. After Lady Violet Bridgerton successfully married off her daughter Daphne, your mother began to think that perhaps she could help you. So, after exchanging a few letters, you are now on your way to the Bridgerton house to be introduced to society's marriage system.

"I need to step out of this carriage for a moment," you say as you stop murmuring your mother's words. Your companion gives you a look that says, "She's lost her mind," but you know she will eventually let you get out of the carriage.

"Actually, we are already in front of the Bridgerton house entrance. I must remind you that your mother recommended I stay by your side most of the time," Mrs. Lydia says, as if you didn't know that, as your companion, she is supposed to always be nearby.

"I know your job is to protect my honor, but believe me, if I enter the Bridgerton house in my current mood, they will expel me before midnight. I need a moment to think," you say, nervously adjusting the hem of your dress. Your companion gently nods as if she understands. Lydia is the closest thing to true family that you have. So it's no surprise that she understands you.

"Enter the house for a moment and be polite. There's a stable on the Bridgerton property; I'll see what I can do. Ask Lady Bridgerton or the Viscount Bridgerton if you can go for a ride. And try not to get into trouble. I'll pretend to accompany you but give you some time alone," Lydia says, and you hug her tightly. A good horse ride after meeting the Bridgertons is just what you need. Not that you know much about them. You can only imagine. They are several siblings, and you are an only child. It's not hard to imagine there will be some incompatibilities. Minutes later, you step out of the carriage with Lydia, observing several people standing around you two.

"Dear Miss Y/L/N, it's a pleasure to welcome you here. I must confess that when your mother informed me of your arrival, we all looked forward to it," Lady Violet Bridgerton says as she approaches you. She seems so friendly that you feel inclined to hug her.

"I would like to thank you, Lady Bridgerton, and your lovely family for your hospitality. Unfortunately, my mother couldn't come with me, but my companion Lydia is here," you say awkwardly. The truth is, you're feeling that this season at Aubrey Hall with all the Bridgertons might be more challenging than you imagine.

"Let's not waste time exchanging pleasantries and let's go inside so you can see your quarters. I believe it will be the perfect time for you to get to know my children better," she says as she guides you into the house. The place is spectacular. As soon as you enter, you see some people approaching.

"Miss Y/L/N, I must warn you that this family can be a bit lively, but we will try our best to welcome you with courtesy," says a girl who must be a little younger than you. She has a book in her hands and is the first to approach you as you enter.

"Eloise, don't scare off our guest. Welcome to our abode, Miss Y/L/N. My name is Colin Bridgerton, and if you need someone to talk to, I'll be available. But I know that after a journey, the best thing is a good night's rest," Colin says to you, who smiles, finding it amusing how many Bridgertons are showing up.

"I believe I should thank Miss Eloise for the warning and Mr. Bridgerton for his kindness. Although I believe I still have a long way to go until my restful moment," you say, looking at the two who seem pleased with your gratitude.

"Your dress is beautiful, Miss Y/L/N. By the way, unlike my older brothers, I know how to introduce myself. My name is Hyacinth Bridgerton." A girl who seemed not to be at the entrance of the house just moments ago suddenly appears, saying this as she walks quickly toward you.

"You're mistaking knowing how to introduce yourself with flattery, Hyacinth. I'm Gregory Bridgerton, but you can call me Gregory," says a young boy who appears to be almost the same age as Hyacinth, while the girl taps him on the shoulder. You find it cute and funny how they behave. Having siblings seems to be at least entertaining.

"The younger ones are so noisy. I wish you a pleasant stay with us, Miss Y/L/N. You'll need it. If you need some peace, just look for me. My name is Francesca," a young woman says kindly as she moves away from the confusion that this introduction session is becoming.

"Now that Miss Y/L/N has met most of the Bridgertons who reside in this house, how about having some tea in the garden of the property?" Lady Violet speaks gently, touching your arm. You nod in agreement.

"I would just like to go to the quarters where I will be staying for a change of clothing. I hope you understand, Lady Violet." You were already starting to feel pain in your back from the corset that was too tight on you.

"My dear, you can call me Violet, and you may go. I'll ask them to take you to the room where you'll be staying, and your companion will join you shortly to assist. Once you're done, I'll be in the garden waiting for you." Lady Bridgerton speaks, and you follow the servant she assigns to show you where you'll be staying. Knowing that Lydia will be with you shortly, as soon as you enter the room, you lock the door.

"What are you doing here, Miss?" A male voice speaks as soon as you lock the door, and you startle as you turn around to find a man, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, staring at you.

"I'm almost certain that I should be the one saying that, sir. I must warn you that if I were to scream, you'd be in trouble," you say, composing yourself as you observe the man looking at you curiously. Perhaps he knows that you wouldn't scream because it would ruin your reputation, or maybe he is part of the Bridgerton family, considering your mother warned you that there were three older adult brothers.

"Do you really want my family to know that I'm inappropriately dressed near you? Let me guess, you're desperate for a marriage and want to make your life easier by tying me to you?" The man speaks as he straightens up, buttoning the rest of his shirt.

"How dare you accuse me of such a strategy, considering that it is you who is in the quarters assigned to me, improperly dressed, and with an attitude worthy of pity. Honestly, my last thought at the moment would be to force a scandal so that you would have to become my husband," you reply, holding yourself near the door, keeping yourself away from whoever this Mr. Bridgerton is in front of you.

"Forgive me, Miss, but I don't trust a word coming out of your mouth at the moment. However, I assure you that this type of situation is not customary. I was trying to enter through the window of my room or one of my brothers' rooms, but I ended up in here. I had no idea that you would be arriving today. In fact, I'm being rude at this moment. I am Viscount Anthony Bridgerton," he says, approaching you cautiously as if analyzing you. Perhaps he is trying to figure out if you are an opportunist or not.

"Without intending to be rude, but already being so, whether you are a Viscount, Prince, or Duke, I don't care. What matters now is that no one finds out that we are alone here," you say, looking him squarely in the eyes, as if to firmly convey that you absolutely do not want them to be discovered.

"If you can draw the attention of the people in the house to yourself for a couple of minutes, I can leave the way I came in. Do you think that would be possible?" Anthony says with a certain petulance. However, a bold idea occurs to you. You give him a determined look and then step closer to him, bringing you both very near to each other.

"I'll simulate a small fall down the stairs. You'll have the time it takes for me to miraculously recover. Be efficient, Viscount Bridgerton," you say briefly and storm out of the room, aware that spending more time in the Viscount's presence would be a real test of your self-control. The room was starting to feel quite warm.

You descend the stairs, doing your best to appear slightly unsteady. You kick the last step with all your strength before reaching the bottom of the stairs and let out a loud groan of pain, loud enough to be heard from afar. You even manage to tear up a bit, waiting for everyone to come and check on you. Just as you are lightly sprawled on the floor, a man walks through the door. You don't remember being introduced to him before, but he is certainly a Bridgerton. He sees you and immediately rushes towards you.

"Miss, are you alright? Can I help you up?" The man asks with a concerned and caring expression. Knowing that Anthony needs more time, you let out a cry of complaint as if in fake pain when the Bridgerton in front of you tries to help you up. At that moment, you start to be surrounded by several people.

"Oh, I think I twisted my ankle, but there's no need to worry. I just need a moment," you say, uncertain if you can keep up the pretense much longer.

"My dear, don't strain yourself. Benedict will help you to a room where we can call for Dr. Lewis to examine you," Lady Violet Bridgerton says as she lightly touches the arm of who you presume to be Benedict.

"May I?" Benedict asks seconds before you nod your head in agreement. But to be honest, you're not even sure what you're agreeing to. Until Benedict lifts you, asking you to put your arms around his neck. You hold on tight to him, somewhat afraid he might drop you.

"Mr. Bridgerton, you are very kind. I believe you didn't need to lift me. But I am grateful for your help," you say as you are leaned close to Benedict's chest, which you now notice is slightly exposed. What's with the Bridgertons today that everyone is showing more than they should?

"I must admit, before my family enters here, that it was amusing to take part in your charade. It was quite artistic of you. I hope you'll call on me if you want to star in another theatrical piece to get my brother out of trouble. Have a good afternoon, Miss Y/L/N," he says all this as he gently releases you onto a sofa. He doesn't seem angry or anything like that; genuinely, he seems to be enjoying himself. As soon as he leaves the room where he left you, the rest of the Bridgerton family and some servants surround you. Now you'll have to pretend to be in pain for a little while longer while you're intrigued not only by one but by two Bridgerton brothers.

[janicekao]

Kookville

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x stepsis reader(dark smut) Summary: Rafe Cameron and his step sister secretly have been hooking up and he is extremely possessive over her. She's a plus size black goddess and he wants her all to himself, although they often quarrel and bicker, she is his and only his. (reader may use Y/N or choose any name of your liking for the fem character)

Warnings: stepcest, dark romance, smut, hate s3x, rough s3x, cr3ampie, violence, br33ding kink, possessive, d0m&femsub, dub!con, etc.

3890 words

Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 -------------------------------------

The house quiets down just the way that you like it. Each of your family members have their own plans as they do everyday in the beautiful OBX.

You enjoy the beach, but what you enjoy the most is the new mansion you and your mom just moved into when it's nice and empty.

It's only been you and your mother for as long as you have known it, but just last year, she married the millionaire real estate developer, Ward Cameron.

Not only did you have to get used to having a stepfather, but now you have three step-siblings. Two sisters, Sarah and Wheezie Cameron, and a brother, Rafe Cameron.

You enjoy Sarah and Wheezie's company. Sarah is a year or two younger than you, but she's really down to Earth. Wheezie is the baby, she's much younger than the entire house and seriously looks up to her big sister Sarah.

The girls are nothing like Rafe and Ward...

Rafe and Ward are two of the same kind. Arrogant, selfish, spoiled, and most of all pure evil. Labeling themselves as "Kooks" they believe that they are better than the lower class people on this island who are known as the "Pogues."

You're not sure what your mother saw in Ward Cameron, but you have no right to say anything being that for the last few months, you've been fucking Rafe behind everyone's back.

Started as a drunken mistake, now it has become a necessity to you both.

He needs you so badly, that if he weren't as stuck up as he is, he'd worship the ground you walk on... But then again, maybe he wouldn't with the amount of hate you both have for each other.

You see him as a cruel, rich, arrogant, asshole... And he sees you as a boring, loser, with a bad attitude. So why put up with each other?

Because the sex is fucking incredible.

Incredible to the point that he spoils you with skimpy lingerie and has put you on a birth control regiment.

Each time you do it, you promise yourself it's the last... Hating the fact that you and Rafe were supposed to become family, and now embarrassing enough, you two can't stop boning.

Maybe it is a kink that you both share together... An exhilarating fear of getting caught and the excitement of doing something so extremely wrong...

Whatever it is, you just can't stop.

—————

Lounging in a pair of black shorts, you enjoy the quaintness of your room as you flip through a magazine on the bed.

Sarah and Wheezie are out for ice cream, Mom and Ward are out shopping and spending alone time together, and Rafe is out on the town being devious as always... so you thought.

Bursting through your bedroom door, Rafe comes inside as he searches your purse for money...

You sigh, here we go again.

"What is it this time?" You continue to read as you ask in sarcasm. "For coke, or molly?"

"Shut up, y/n." He takes the only money you have, quickly storing it in the pockets of his pants. "It's my Dad's money anyways. If you need more, just go ask your slutty mother."

"What did you just say?" Hearing the insult about your mother makes your blood boil.

You leave your bed to quickly check him, however he only finds your short and innocently chubby stature amusing. You're far from threatening, voice too sweet to strike fear into anybody.

Staring down at you he chuckles deviously. "You heard me right. Every single night, they keep me up as she loudly fucks my dad out of all of his money."

Rafe caresses your full bottom lip as he gently pulls it down. "Like mother, like daughter, huh?"

You slap Rafe clean across his face.

He takes it like it's nothing.

A low toned growl heats his throat. "Do it again."

You do.

Face hot and red from the second slap, he absolutely loves it.

Rafe tightens his grip around your wrists pulling you up against him. His face should be stinging with pain but instead you feel his hardened cock poke against your bellybutton.

"When was the last time we—"

"Fuck off." You immediately interrupt his lewd intentions as you find yourself back onto your bed and reading your magazine.

Rafe gently lays next to you. He's quiet, too quiet as his intense blue eyes watch you.

Rolling your eyes you immediately turn your back on him. You try and hide the fact that his cologne from after his fresh shower has you almost dizzy with arousal, but he knows.

He watches the goosebumps fill the skin of your arms and begins to smirk.

"What is it this time?" He gently taunts. "Was it my presence? Maybe lying beside you? Or was it the cologne?"

Rafe chuckles as he watches your body tense up. "My cologne. It's always my smell isn't it, y/n?"

"I'm in a rush." He snaps.

Rafe pulls the tiny shorts off of your hips and down your legs before he tosses them to the floor. "I have places to be, not time to waste here with you. Lay on your back."

"You came in here to bother me, remember?" You play hard to get as you bark, knowing that your panties are soaked for him. "Go fuck yourself Rafe."

"Yeah?" He questions. "Well I can do that too."

As you ignore him, you hear his khakis suddenly unzip and the sounds of lewd fapping.

You peel your eyes from the magazine and notice Rafe stroking himself at the sight of you in your underwear and T-shirt.

His mouth hangs agape as he whispers your name. You continue to peek and your mouth begins to water for his handsomely long cock.

His large hand seems to swallow yours up as he takes your attention from your magazine and places your digits over his shaft for you to continue the hand job.

You sigh. "Rafe, what do you want from me?"

"You know what I want." He groans lightly. "I'm going to give you this cock and then I have to go and meet up with Barry."

Rolling your eyes at the thought of Rafe's friend Barry, you know for sure that the money he stole from you is to party. Barry is the worst company to keep... OBX's drug dealer.

Taking your hand away from him as he nears his cum immediately aggravates him.

Rafe takes your magazine and throws it out of your bedroom's opened window, vexed from the aching blue balls you've now given him.

"I was reading that!?" You whine as you watch the pages of your favorite magazine soar through the wind and out of your window.

Rafe puts himself away as he scoffs and begins to leave your room. "You're just a fucking tease."

You hate being called a tease.

You aren't a tease, you two just... hate each other.

Sitting up from your comfortable position, you begin to demand an exchange. "What's in it for me?"

Rafe hardly hears you as he becomes nearly hypnotized by the way your thighs expand as you sit on the edge of the bed.

"Rafe!?" You complain.

"Whatever you want." He can't pull his eyes from you as he licks the drool from his lips in temptation.

You begin to ponder over what it could be that you want in return... You are having a bit of trouble making friends in this new state, maybe getting out more could help. As much as Rafe parties, you are sure that tagging along will help you meet new people.

"Let me come with you to the beach party this Friday!" You finally decide.

"The beach party?" He frowns. "No fucking way. I know you too well, y/n. You'll do something stupid like wear that black string bikini I bought you... That's only for me to see."

You laugh. "Rafe, I'm fully grown, you forget that you're my stepbrother... not my dad."

He gags. "Trust me, I remember quite well."

You reach to aggravate him further. "You're just afraid you'll see me flirting, having fun, and ready to fuck someone else, huh?"

His sarcastic grin fades until his eyes darken. He hates when you push him there, and somehow you're the only one who knows how to do it.

"Do you remember the last time you tried to make me jealous?" Rafe begins to threat.

You reminisce on the red and blue lights that approached the fist fight that nearly knocked you to the ground as you tried to step in between Rafe and your potential one night stand. The evening at a local bar that you wished you never had visited... The evening when you realized how possessive Rafe was truly over you.

You gulp, "I try not to actually."

"Good." He fumes. "Now take off your panties, you're wasting my time."

Tempted to watch the spoiled rich boy plead for something that only you have control over, you begin to toy with his patience.

"Hmm?" You taunt. "Beg for it."

"What? Beg? You?" He laughs in a way that most would see as him bullying you.. Laughter that seems like you're not shit to him, but you know that you are. Your confidence has always been your most powerful trait, also what drives Rafe mad the most. "I can get pussy somewhere else."

He gulps as your cold siren eyes wait for his childish laughter to end. "So do it."

Rafe's jaw clinches. He's terribly angry that the only sex that he actually wants, is yours.

His skin begins to redden as you break the arrogant spirit of the powerful six-foot-two-inch man of pure muscle. "Please, y/n?"

You ignore him... it inflames him.

"You fucking want it too!" He scoffs. "Stop playing so hard to get!"

"So what? I also want a million dollars Rafe." You argue. "I want to hear you beg or you're not getting a fucking thing."

You gently part your plush thighs apart to drive him a bit more crazy... It's nearly comical the way you can melt him. Far from his usual type, however you have just what he needs.

"Yeah, fine. Whatever, fuck you— fine." He struggles with his thoughts and words, wanting you so bad that he nearly stutters words of hatred. It's hilarious.

Eyes of hunger, he finally submits to you. Rafe sits at the edge of your bed, tossing you into his lap as if you were weightless.

He wants you to feel his heated gaze as he does what you ask him to do. He begins to beg for you.

"Y/n, please let me eat your pussy and fuck you until your flesh is raw and you finally shut the fuck up." His erection prodding against you out of his tight khakis nearly takes your breath away.

"Nicer." You whisper quietly.

....

His voice shudders. "Please baby.." Rafe is finally the begging puppy that he deserves to be brought down to. "Let me fuck you so good."

A smirk creeps across your face. "Baby?" You coo. "You must really want it, seeing that you've already gone to pet names."

"Shut up."His kiss takes your breath away, thirsty for your essence, Rafe chokes you with his tongue.

He strips you out of your clothes, letting your T-shirt and panties hit the floor as he stands over your completely bare body.

The way he watches makes you redden with shame. You're nude and he's fully dressed as you become more vulnerable by the second.

"At least undress Rafe!" You frown as you go to stand.

Your breath is sharply taken from you as he pushes you roughly back onto the bed. "Shut up, let me look at you." He demands.

Your goosebumps are back and at full force.

"Oh god.." You become embarrassed as the glistening waterfall between your legs begins to reveal your arousal. Tightening your knees together was a bad move... All Rafe does is pry them apart to watch the slickness even closer.

Enticed and licking his lips, his shirt finally comes off. He enjoys watching the gripped indents around your thighs, so soft and malleable like two pillows as he pulls you further down to the edge of the bed.

Rafe doesn't hesitate any longer. His mouth begins to swallow you up causing you to gasp from how sensitive you are down there.

Your back begins to arch as he devours your pussy and the flicking of his tongue on your clit makes you squeal uncomfortably.

You can't take it.

Your hand presses against his head, fingers through his buzzcut as you shove him away.

Rafe growls. Eyes of pure evil watch up at you as he pins your wrists to the bed. He doesn't stop.Slurping, nibbling, and tongue fucking you as he wants badly to see you cry from his pleasurable torture.

Adding his long digits into your tight cunt, Rafe curls a singular finger at your g-spot.

"Fuck! Rafe please—" Your begging is pathetic.

"Shhh." He coos gently. "You can take it, I need to work you open for me a bit."

You hate how at times he can be almost gentle and romantic... It gets to be so confusing, and in this case, it doesn't help the orgasm tightening in the midst of your stomach.

His indecent finger-fucking has your brain a puddle of dumb mush, not being able to take the precious tongue flicks and kisses on your clit along with the rough thrusts inside of you A second long and strong finger takes you to the moon. Pussy too full of his tanned digits and melting down his wrists, you sinfully cum and lay tiredly into the mattress.

He comes up for air, panting lightly as the alluring muscles in his chest writhes with each breath.

His smile melts you, wet and devious as he presses his lips to yours. "Taste that?" He taunts breathlessly, "Pussy too good for someone so fucking annoying."

Stripping out of his pants, you watch Rafe's weighty erection near his bellybutton as it stands at attention.

He strokes himself softly, making his skin slick with the drop of wet precum that's already beaded out of his needy tip. "Turn around."

He tosses you onto your stomach without much of a warning. You still can hardly think for yourself since your last cum, so Rafe does the thinking for you.

Putting you onto your knees, he arches your back and smooths his fingers through your curls as he presses your face into the mattress for the coming back-shots.

Sliding through your slickness a few times, he lubes himself enough to fuck into you. The tip of his cock plunges through your already sensitive cunt, forcing you to take a gasp of air as you fist the sheets under you.

You hear a gulp that chokes his throat as Rafe continues to push his cock forward. "Fuck, you feel so good baby."

Clinching your eyes shut, you feel his swollen bulbous tip kiss at your cervix. It makes your body shudder. He's so far deep in you, you almost feel sick.

His balls slap against your cunt as he bottoms out into you. Your pussy feels so tight around him that you're sure you can feel his every vein probing out of his hardened flesh.

Rafe follows his own speed, paying most of his attention towards his needy want to reach his own finish. Fucking power drives into you because he knows that you can take it.

His groans are music to your ears, but you can hardly hear them over your own weeping and curses.

"Stay just like that, y/n." He nearly pleads. "You're so tight for me baby, whose pussy is this?"

Although clearly fucked to a pulp and pussy clearly belonging to him, you'd rather die than to let him know it. Eyes half-lidded and drooling onto your sheets, you refuse to let him have it.

"Mine." You pant.

Rafe laughs, plummeting his broad thumb into your tight asshole. "You're so fucking hardheaded, that's okay, you'll learn."

"Rafe! St-Stop!" Your fist tighten the sheets further until your knuckles turn white.

"Next time it'll be my cock.." He threatens you to behave as he forces his thumb in deeper and suddenly snatches it out. "Keep playing with me."

Your body lewdy continues to slap against his. Rafe is so obsessed with it, loving your extremely thick figure and knowing just how to handle it.

He slaps your ass. "Fuck me back."

You do. You throw your ass back in away that has Rafe biting at his lip, trying to hold back from cumming his load too soon.

His strong fingertips seep into the plushed flesh of your waist as he hammers his last strokes into you. Chain dangling against your skin with each thrust.

He groans, deeply growling out his words as he tries to help his own anticipation. "The other day when you babysat for our neighbors, I watched you bounce that baby on your hip and all I could think of was breeding you. Wanting so badly to take the pills from you and pump you with my seed."

"M-fuckkk." You mewl, pussy numb, obliterated, and needing a break.

Rafe chuckles. "The family knows how reckless I am, but what will Mommy and Daddy think of their precious-America's Sweetheart daughter when they find out she's a slut who fucks her stepbrother? A dumb slut who loves her stepbrother's cum so much that she let him fill her until she grew his baby?"

He snatches a handful of your hair, making you yelp and drop tears as he continues to tear you apart. "You deserve the hate that I get it..." His jealousy has his jaws tightened, and gritting his words. "They should know you aren't as innocent as you act."

Rafe harshly slaps your ass, you can feel the handprint swelling into a stinging welt on your flesh.

You can't help but to moan. The sex is so good but the embarrassment of loving it causes you to cry.

"Fuck you." You manage to speak through your wet lips and trembling breaths..

"Anytime you want, sis." His laugh is pure mockery.

"Fuck."Rafe fawns over your body, his hand reaches beneath you, cupping your large breasts and slowly choking your air away.

With a grip on your chin he forces your head around to watch his final act.

Deviously impaling your insides as he sputters his hot cum inside of you. "You're so pretty with a cock in you.Stop acting like we're going to stop, you know that we never will."

"Mmm."His muscles tighten as his many inches still inside of you, jolting as he spills his milky seed. "Tell me how much you love to be fucked by me..."

You feel shame as the hot nut causes you a second climax. Biting the sheets, you can't answer anything as your eyes cross and roll to the back of your skull.

"I swear to god, y/n, answer me." Rafe impales you further making your tummy ache and your cunt nearly tear against him.

"I love it." You weep a final act of submission. "I love to be fucked by you Rafe, my god, just don't go any harder."

Spreading your cheeks apart, he grins at the masterpiece of mess he's made on your swollen flesh. "I won't baby, you did good."

Melting into the mattress, you flatten out of your arched back.

Rafe checks his watch... he's extremely late to meeting up with his drug dealer.

He redresses, grinning as he watches you ache from his ruthless fucking.

"Ice it." He cruelly demands. "I'll be back again when the house falls asleep."

You roll your eyes, reaching for your clean beach towel to wipe his cum from dripping down your thighs.

A phone begins to ring as you redress. You think that it's probably Barry calling Rafe's phone to see where he's been so held up at...

But it's not Rafe's phone, it's yours.

Rafe immediately beats you to the ringing iPhone. "Ohhhh?" He taunts. "An unsaved number? What are you being sneaky about?"

You snatch for your phone, angry that he keeps it high out of your reach. As he answers he tightly wraps his arm around your waist to keep you from fighting it.

Rafe answers your phone quietly, waiting for the caller to speak first.

"Hello?" The voice asks. "Y/n? Where are you? I thought you wanted me to come meet you halfway? Anyways, you know where we are! Bonfire at John B's baby! I already got the beer."

...

Rafe's blood boils.

Hearing a Pogue's voice has him heated. But hearing that out of all people, the voice belongs to JJ Maybank? It makes him furious.

He hangs up. "Getting drunk at John B's house, huh? My sister Sarah has you hanging with those fucking Pogues?"

"Give me my phone back!" You argue. "It isn't like that.."

"So then what is it like?" Rafe frowns. "You're fucking JJ Maybank?"

You scoff. "What is wrong with you? He's the only friend I've made here in Outerbanks. He waits tables with me at the Waterside restaurant."

"Oh does he now?" He taunts.

Rafe begins to laugh sarcastically. He suddenly snatches your arm into both of your views, forcing you to see how your skin is again riddled with goosebumps.

The same goosebumps that you get when indecent thoughts make you horny.

Fuck... He knows you better than you thought.

"Look at you." His jaw tightens. "You might not be fucking him, but you want too."

Your eyes widen and your large guilty irises give you away.

You are smitten with JJ, and you can't help it. He's the opposite of Rafe... He's kind, gentle, and extremely sweet to you.

You love his innocently dimpled smile. He's the largest crush you've had since you were in middle school and watched your first Justin Timberlake video.

"I guess I have to stop by John B's house tonight, huh? Pay a visit to JJ?" You're able to feel the heat raging off of Rafe's body.

You grab his arms, pleading for him not to make a scene. "No don't! Please, Rafe! What do you want? Aren't I giving you enough?"

"No." Rafe firmly grasps your wrists, flinging them away from touching him. "Block JJ's number, and stop talking to the fucking Pogues."

You agree, nodding as tears swell in your eyes.

"You live in this house, you're a fucking Kook!" His raised voice rains frightening screams upon you. "...Better yet, you're not even a Kook, you're mine.You're Rafe's, and if you continue to be hard headed and act like a fucking child, I'll release hell on Earth... you know that I can, and that I fucking will."

"Tell me you understand y/n, before I make you hate me even more." His voice lowers into a final threat.

You've seen him get rough with people, better yet, you've seen him already kick JJ's ass once for something that had nothing to do with you... doing it again would only make his day.

You gulp. "I get it Rafe, I understand."

...

Silence fills the room as he continues to gawk deviously over what is his, you.

Rafe wipes a fallen tear from your face. "Kiss me."

He tilts your chin to reach his lips and places the most tender kiss he has ever given you.

Rafe claims you as his as he grabs a handful of your ass, prying your sweetly soft lips apart as his tongue locks with yours. Rafe Cameron's tongue kiss is the only thing that has ever made your knees weak. Sadly, you can't decide if you still hate him or if his need to be possessive over you is actually causing you to love him.

[bedoballoons]

Had a thought of Lyney and Lynette finding angel reader with broken wings after a performance

- sorry if my English is bad

You're english isn't bad at all and I absolutely love your idea! The only thing I wasn't sure about is if one of the siblings was supposed to be a romantic interest or not, so just in case I kept the romance to a minimum! Thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Falling~༺}

CW: Mentions of broken wings, reader is a angel!

(Includes: Lyney and Lynette!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney and Lynette:

"Lyney!" Lynette called out to her brother, her normally monotone voice suddenly filled with worry and fear, even with the crowd clapping in the background she could hear her own heart racing loudly in her chest. She couldn't take her eyes off of you...off of your wings that sprawled away from your body in crooked positions like a birds after it had crash landed..and your face that was so pale that if she didn't see your soft breathing she would have assumed you were dead.

Lyney hurried to his sisters aid, stopping mid step when he caught sight of you, "Lynette...what what is this?" She shook her head, not knowing how to answer as she kneeled down beside you, hand gently reaching out to touch your feathers. It caught her off guard...how real they were, how crazy this all was, "It sounds unbelievable...but Lyney these wings...are real. Is that even possible?"

The magician followed suit, kneeling beside his twin to examine up close...only to confirm her findings, "Well I suppose it has to be. I mean you have cat ears and a tail...who says a person can't have wings? Bright...white, beautiful wings. Reminds me of angels in story books." He carefully moved your wing, trying his best not inflict pain as he got it ready to be wrapped up. It was the least he could do after all their gawking and prodding, "Lynette could you get me some bandages?"

"...do you think they are actually a angel?" She looked at Lyney with magical glint in her eye, images of angels with halos and sweet smiles playing in her mind as she grabbed the first aid kit nearby. If you really were such a amazing creature...she secretly hoped you'd tell her all about it over a cup of tea and maybe even show her what your halo looked like.

"I'm not sure, I suppose we can ask them once they wake up. I was considering taking them to get medical assistance but...maybe it would be better to keep them a secret for now. I don't want them getting hurt more than they already have." Lyney was gentle with your wings, bandaging them up softly before lifting you off the ground and carrying you bridal style to a stage couch that had been left over from a previous show.

A slight blush coated his cheeks as took another look at your sleeping figure, you were beautiful in every sense of the word...hurt and broken but still somehow bright and goregous. He hoped you'd wake up soon so he could tell you as such and hopefully learn your name...maybe even how you had come to crash land outside, but for now he'd watch over you alongside his sister and remember all the stories of angels he'd ever read.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[physalian]

Writing Tone #2: Avoiding Manufactured Sincerity

There’s a scene in season 5 of My Hero Academia where two beloved teachers have been brought to some high security prison to interrogate a captured villain that turns out to be a brainwashed childhood friend of theirs. The scene is really dramatic, these two teachers are screaming at this guy, heartbroken, and when I saw the episode (shortly before quitting the entire show mid-episode over how bored I was) I was not at all as outraged and horrified as they were.

It was so tonally jarring, and so unfounded within the plot, that it was almost uncomfortable to watch. The villain they’re interrogating isn’t unfamiliar, but the plot-twist-surprise childhood friend is a stranger no one but these two care about.

I didn’t care, couldn’t empathize with why they were upset, knew nothing about their relationship with the guy beyond the ham-handed flashbacks given right that moment. I wasn’t prepared to mourn the loss of this random character, wasn’t primed ahead of time with the idea that this was a possibility to dread the scene before it happened. I was just waiting for it to be over and when it finally was, the impact it had on me was a resounding: Well that was weird. Now back to the plot.

Unfounded sincerity is the uncomfortably ugly step-sibling of plots that are starved of sincerity—look at most of Phase 4, but really, starting with Thor: Ragnarok in the MCU. Many Marvel properties are afraid to embrace the emotional moments and resort to bad jokes to laugh at themselves before the audience can laugh at them. Because how dare a late-stage superhero story about mythical gods be at all sincere in its relationships, its quiet moments, its tragedies. Nope, time for jokes.

Unfounded sincerity is when a story goes far harder with the drama, the love-declarations, the angst, the humor, where it’s trying really hard to convince the audience to care and it just isn’t working.

This happens when arguments start out of nowhere, as well, when characters explode at each other in a heated screaming match that hasn’t been left to fester for nearly long enough, undercooked and hard to swallow.

This happens when characters fall suddenly, madly in love with each other with zero dubious intervention to explain away the sudden passion.

It happens particularly when characters care a whole heck of a lot about someone the audience doesn’t, at the expense of characters the audience is invested in.

It happens when characters have emotional breakdowns and start crying over what ends up reading like spilled milk. When stoic and strong characters break over something they normally would never, for ~drama~.

This is usually both a tone and pacing issue, and a serious case of telling. The author hasn’t done any of the work ramping up a situation or relationship for proper delivery of these emotionally charged moments that are written like critical character beats we’re supposed to care deeply about.

So how does this happen?

1. The author *really* wants this scene, but writes it too early into the story

Unless there’s foul play involved, or this is a romantic comedy that isn’t supposed to be a realistic and healthy depiction of how romance works, characters suddenly declaring love for each other at the cost of their own well-being, their own character arc and journey, and their other motivations can be very frustrating to read.

But the author wants to get to the Good Stuff, so they coast on the “male + female leads = relationship” expectation without writing the why (and so ensures the rise of so many gay ships in the process). Or the male + male leads” or what have you.

2. The author cannot fluidly change tone and characters explode, instead of simmer

An argument that comes out of nowhere can really take your audience out of a scene. Your characters suddenly look ridiculous and your audience can’t follow what’s going on or why they’re so upset. This is different than a character exploding seemingly out of nowhere, but who we know has been building resentment for dozens of pages and loses it over something otherwise inconsequential.

These scenes are painfully, obviously there for manufactured drama and don’t feel natural. These characters don’t feel like people, but playthings, action figures manipulated by the hands of the author.

3. The characters involved are underdeveloped

As in the My Hero scene mentioned above, of the three characters in the scene, the “friend” we’re supposed to care about is a non-entity. The two teachers could have lost their minds over this guy’s sudden death, or the reveal that he turned traitor, or that he murdered younglings and puppies and kittens, to the same emotional impact, because we don’t care about this guy (or, I don’t, at least. I didn’t, and shouldn’t have to read the manga).

You can of course have characters who grieve non-entities, like the fridged wife trope. The difference is the audience knows we’re not supposed to know or care about that lady and the character she never was. This happens pre-plot, not mid-season 5. The frigid wife is the catalyst for the character we then come to know, not a character whose death radically changes our heroes from the people we’ve already established.

4. The tonal jump is just too extreme from the established rules of the story

Abrupt changes in tone can be very tricky to pull off, and almost always fail when it surrounds an abrupt shift in character dynamics (as opposed to something more plot-related). As in, your lighthearted comedy suddenly stops the plot so two characters can scream at each other, when this level of emotional charge hasn’t been established as a possibility.

Or the aforementioned emotional breakdown that just leaves audiences uncomfortable like the awkward friend trying to soothe a weeping companion.

—

Unfortunately, the fixes to these situations are either delete that entire scene, or go back and do a lot of rewriting so there’s enough build-up to justify its existence. Go back and write in that simmering resentment, all the little frustrations, a pre-existing tension within the relationship that is always primed to snap.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder and there’s a reason the “slowburn” is so popular. Setting out from the beginning to write a fast-paced, passionate romance tells your readers to expect exaggerated displays of emotion.

My favorite musical is Moulin Rouge. This movie is insane. Everyone is hyperbolically emotional and nothing is half-assed. The dances, the belting singing, the costumes, set-design, editing, the declarations of love– they’re all dialed up to 11. So characters screaming their love or rage from the rooftops is a *lot* but you’re prepared for it from the opening scene, knowing exactly what kind of movie this is.

Even if you don’t start your story with the level of drama it will eventually reach, there should still be some sort of progression when it comes to character drama.

Last Airbender didn’t open episode 2 with the emotional intensity of Zuko and Azula’s last Agni Kai… but it did show you that this isn’t just a lighthearted comedy in episode 3, with the reveal of Gyatso’s body and Aang’s violently emotional reaction.

Speaking of episode 3, they didn’t throw in Gyatso out of nowhere. We know from the show so far that a) Aang is the last of his kind, and b) he doesn’t know this. Everything leading up to this reveal is lighthearted, sure, but with that undercurrent of dread, waiting for Aang to see for himself, waiting for that other shoe to drop.

So some things to keep in mind are:

Prime the audience with dropping that first shoe, make them aware of the building tension (romantic, aggressive, grief, or otherwise), even if not all the characters are aware.

Build that tension. If your characters will eventually explode, let them be mildly irritated first, then annoyed, then frustrated, then angry, then raging until they can’t contain it anymore.

Make sure every party involved in this dramatic moment is someone the audience actually cares about, not just someone they’re told to care about.

TL;DR: Don’t pull the trigger prematurely. It’s most obvious with suddenly passionate arguments, characters flinging insults and hurts the audience isn’t prepared for and doesn’t know about, in effort to move the plot along before it’s fully cooked.

So unless there’s some drugs or fairy magic involved, or one of these characters has a gun to their head forcing them to do this right now, people don’t just explode in a rage without some buildup first. People can explode in a rage over a seemingly inconsequential and unrelated thing, but they’re likely already upset and this one little thing is the final straw. Audiences love the anticipation of what that final straw will be, and whether the explosive drama is rage or romance, “slowburn” is immensely popular for a reason.

[swarvey]

paper rings | harvey x f!reader

summary -> you get yourself a partner for the flower dance; harvey lets his imagination roam wild. warnings -> very mild hints of nsfw wc -> 2861

a/n: lowkey writing this chapter was sm fun. enjoy!! we're getting into the thick of it now >:)

ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6

paper rings masterlist

chapter five: you belong with me -> "been here all along, so why can't you see?"

“He’s dancing with who? ”

You looked at Haley with big eyes as she nonchalantly filed her nails. Emily, whom you’d learned was her older sister, continued to braid her blue hair, while Leah worked on her latest sculpture in the corner. The artist had invited the three of you to her cottage to spend some time together, to your surprise — from the small conversations you’d had with her throughout the season, she seemed to be pretty reserved. After running into her and the sisters more than a handful of times, though, she must have warmed up to all of you.

“His nurse,” the blonde repeated, her tone bored and monotone. “This is old news, keep up.”

“I only got here a few weeks ago,” you sighed, slumping down in your seat. “How was I supposed to know?”

“Haley, be nice,” Emily scolded lightly, walking over to Leah and admiring her work. 

The Spring season had flown by quicker than you anticipated, though it felt fulfilling to know you had accomplished so much in such a short period of time. Your once weed and debris-ridden farm was completely cleared, replaced with plots of crops. You made sure to leave some open spaces for the animals you were planning on getting, excited to take the next step in your farmer life.

Throughout the past few weeks, you’d gotten closer to Haley and her sister. The blue-haired girl was closer to your age, though her personality was a stark contrast compared to her younger sibling. She was open and expressive, while Haley was typically moody and blunt. Both of them were kind to you, though, and it was refreshing to talk to people you could at least somewhat relate to.

Obviously, you had Harvey, too. The two of you made sure to get dinner with each other at least once every week to make up for your lost time together, never once mentioning romance again. Instead, you easily fell back into rhythm with him, old jokes resurfacing and memories continuously being shared. You’d nearly forgotten what good company he made; he never interrupted you, and always made sure to ask about your day.

Better than any boyfriend you had, anyway.

“She’s just jealous because she has a crush on him.”

The comment snapped you back into the current conversation, head quickly turning to look at Haley. She had a knowing smirk on your face as you began to blush. 

“Honestly, you sound like a high schooler,” you huffed, turning away. “I’m just not used to the thought of Harvey liking someone, that’s all. It’s like knowing my brother has a girlfriend.”

“Right,” she responded, sarcasm dripping from her voice. “So, you’re not jealous?”

“No, I’m not.”

“And you’re not interested in dancing with someone? Y’know, just to see how he reacts?”

Silence.

Emily and Leah looked at you with similar expressions, brows raised and curiosity in their eyes.

“No, no way,” you laughed, as if she’d said a joke. “I mean, seriously? Who would do that?”

“I would,” Haley said without hesitation. “The worst that can happen is that he gets a little jealous, so what?”

“There is no way Harvey of all people would get jealous over something like that.”

“So do it.”

You looked at her with narrowed eyes, trying to think of a rational reply. She shrugged, not even bothering to look up at you.

Emily cleared her throat. “Well, it would be nice to see you dance,” she said, though there was a mischievous edge to her words. “You’d look beautiful in one of those dresses.”

You eyed Leah for her opinion, but she simply shook her head, continuing her work. “Don’t drag me into this,” she said, squinting at her woodwork. “I’m done messing around with guys.”

“You literally dance with Elliott every year,” Haley noted, pausing her filing to give her a deadpan stare.

“Elliott and I are friends, that’s all,” she replied, her voice final. “Besides, after what happened last time, I think I’m over boys completely.”

“You mean, you don’t think you’ll date again?” you asked.

“I never said that.”

Emily blinked in surprise. Haley hummed in approval, resuming her previous acts. Leah blushed slightly, though you gave her a reassuring smile and shrugged.

“Who am I going to dance with, anyway?” you questioned. “I mean, doesn’t everyone in town have a partner already?”

“I doubt Shane will do it,” Emily sighed, crossing her arms. “He only dances with me because Marnie forces him to every year.”

“I don’t know if Elliott will, either,” Leah added. “He’s a bit . . . particular.”

Haley dropped the file beside her, a tired breath escaping her as she wordlessly picked up her phone. 

You tilted your head. “What are you—”

“Alex, where are you?” A pause. “Come over to Leah’s. Now.”

The three of you gave amused glances to each other as Haley hung up, obviously annoyed by whatever Alex had said on the phone.

A few minutes later, the jock showed up to the cottage, roughly knocking twice before opening the door. Upon seeing the four of you sitting in Leah’s living room, he stopped suddenly in the doorway.

“Uh, am I . . . supposed to be here?” he asked.

“Just get in and shut the door,” Haley snapped. 

Sighing and mumbling something about her “not having to be so mean all the time,” Alex made his way over to all of you, awkwardly scratching the side of his head.

“You’re gonna dance with her this year,” she said, pointing her thumb at you.

“What?!” He quickly looked between you and her, dumbfounded by her remark. “Haley, why would I do that?! I don’t even remember this girl’s name!”

“I don’t doubt it,” you muttered, and Emily laughed.

“Listen up!” Haley stood, and despite being a solid few inches taller than her with a much larger build, Alex flinched, seeming to shrink away. “ You are dancing with her because, quite frankly, I’m sick of dancing with you!”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She groaned, rolling her eyes. “It means, we’ve been doing the same thing for years now, and I’m bored. I don’t want to do it, so I’m sitting out.”

“But you never—” She glared at him, daring him to finish his sentence. Instead, he let out a short breath of defeat. “Fine.” He turned to you, undeniably uninterested. “What’s your name again?”

“Y/N,” you replied, equally as flat-toned. “Thanks.”

“Sure, I guess. Can I go now?” You felt a little bad for him, especially since he looked like a kicked puppy,  but you knew him well enough that he’d bounce back within the hour. Haley nodded, and he quickly made his way out of the cottage.

“Actually, we should get going, too,” Emily said, checking the clock. “We still have to make dinner.” With that, her and her sister made their goodbyes, leaving you and Leah alone.

“You know,” she started, wiping her hands on her pants and looking at you with a smile, “she must really like you if she went to those lengths for you. I don’t think Haley’s ever sat out of the Flower Dance.”

You nodded, chewing your lip. “Yeah, well . . .” You trailed off, your head being filled with thoughts of Harvey and the words he’d said before.

“I guess we’ll see how it goes.”

-

Harvey anxiously fiddled with his tie as everyone began to arrive at the festival, brushing a hand through his hair.

Shane stood beside him and scoffed. “Seriously, you’re acting like we’re at your wedding. Calm down, doc.”

“Yes, I know, I just . . . I want to look put together.” For you, he wanted to add, but kept his mouth shut. “I can’t believe she’s going to see me do this dance,” he mumbled, not even having to say your name for his friend to know who he was talking about.

“If I can do this every year in front of Jas, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” he replied, looking at his goddaughter with a fond look on his face. Those were the only moments where Harvey saw the typically stoic man soften. 

“Before you know it, she and Vincent will be old enough to participate themselves, you know,” he said, hiding his smile when Shane scowled and whipped his head towards him.

“Like hell, she will,” he retorted, giving her friend a death stare. “That kid better watch it. He does anything to Jas and I swear I’ll—”

“Ah, my glorious friends! How are you this fine morning?”

Harvey and Shane nearly toppled over as Elliott appeared in between them, balancing them with his arms wrapped around their shoulders. Harvey was sure he heard the man next to him mutter some not-so-kind comments under his breath, but ignored them.

“It was fine, up until a few seconds ago,” Shane snapped, ducking out of his hold. “How are you always so damn chipper at every hour of the day?”

Elliott stood up straight proudly, his healthy hair shining in the light. “You see, this is what the magnificent tool of sleep can provide you. With proper vitamins and a good night’s sleep, anyone can be as energetic as a hare.”

“What is this, a fuckin’ ad?” 

“He’s not wrong,” Harvey chimed, making Shane grumble and walk away towards Jas.

“Ah, I’m afraid I have some news to share with you, my friend,” Elliott started, turning to look at him with a slightly worried look on his face.

Curious, Harvey opened his mouth to question him, but was interrupted by the sound of Emily gasping loudly and calling out your name. 

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next.

He watched as you walked into the festival wearing a flowy white dress, flowers intertwined into your hair. He swore he felt his heart jump at the sight, unimaginable thoughts racing through his head as he wondered what it would’ve been like to be by your side then, or even before at home helping you put the dress on, drunk on the sight of your exposed skin—

Wait.

Harvey’s imagination went blank when he saw Alex by your side, saying something to you to make you laugh. Certainly he was dreaming, right? He’d seen you just the other day, and you had never once mentioned anything about the aspiring gridball player. Was he even your type? Was that what you were looking for? If so, his hopes were out the door. 

“Harvey? You okay?”

As he blinked back into focus, Harvey realized Maru was now standing in front of him, concern written all over her features. He turned to glance at Elliott confusedly — noting how he was anxiously biting his fist before mouthing him a sorry — before giving his nurse a kind smile, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder.

“Yes, sorry, something just . . . came to mind,” he lied. “You look amazing, Maru. Thank you for dancing with me again.”

She laughed. “You don’t have to thank me every year, Harvey, it’s not like I’m doing this against my will. I like dancing with you.” Her face flushed slightly at her last sentence, though he paid it no mind. He was more interested in your figure walking over to him, a lopsided smile on your face.

“Hey, Maru,” you greeted, an ounce of tension in your tone. 

Though, Maru didn’t seem to notice, smiling brightly back at you. “Hey! You look great, you’re paired up with Alex, right?”

“That’s right!” His jaw tensed at your despicably happy mood. “Haley wasn’t too interested in dancing this year, so he decided to ask me.”

A lie . Harvey knew you well enough by then to tell when you were lying, and he felt it immediately as the words left your mouth. Why, though? What were you doing? Or, more so, what part were you lying about?

“Cool,” the nurse replied simply, completely oblivious. “Well, I think we’re about to start, so how about we all get lined up?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

You jumped slightly when Harvey pulled you back by your arm, trying his best not to be swayed by your looks as he scanned your face.

“What?” you laughed, feigning innocence. “Is there something on my face?”

He shook his head quickly, blushing before letting you go. “No, it’s just . . . I didn’t expect you to be dancing, is all.”

“Well, someone didn’t ask me,” you teased, making any words get caught in his throat. “I’m kidding, Harvs. Alex just needed someone to dance with.”

Another lie. “I see.” 

“Harvey, come on!” He waved to Maru in acknowledgment, giving you one last look before beginning to walk away.

“You, uh, you look stunning, Y/N,” he managed, turning so he couldn’t see your reaction.

As the music began to play, Harvey’s body easily began to move with it, remembering each step after years of doing the same movements. The only difference, though, was your body in his line of sight, Alex’s arm wrapped around the small of your back. 

A familiar feeling started to rise from his gut. He recognized it as how he felt in the saloon the first day you’d gotten to Pelican Town, telling him shortly about your previous relationships. He didn’t like how it made him feel, not at all, but he couldn’t resist it as he observed you. What kind of cruel game was the universe playing? 

Alex looked down at you, giving you a small, unexpectedly shy smile. You grinned back.

That should be me. The singular thought raced through his head as the music swelled, Maru twirling under his arm in front of him. His eyes stayed on you, breaths becoming hot with jealousy. You should be with me, not him.

Then, as everyone entered the last part of the dance, you tripped on your dress, nearly falling backward. Harvey tensed, and if it weren’t for Maru already leaning back on his arms, he would have lunged for you. 

It didn’t matter, though, as Alex had already caught you, his face inches away from yours as you panted heavily.

As everyone applauded, Harvey gently let go of the girl in his arms, looking away and taking a couple deep breaths to still himself. How was this happening? Did you enjoy seeing him suffer? 

Apparently, you did, as you lingered in Alex’s arms after standing up. He watched as Emily and Haley greeted you with smiles, even Leah walking up to compliment you. No one seemed as taken aback by the situation as he was, though that was of no surprise to him. 

“Seriously, Harvey,” Maru said, and he realized she was standing in front of him with her hands on her hips. “You don’t look too hot. It wouldn’t look too good if the town’s doctor got sick, would it?”

Harvey cleared his throat. “Yes, of course. I think it’d be best for me to go a bit early, then.” She nodded in agreement. Guilt ate at him as he walked away — he felt terrible for leaving Maru there alone, but she was right. Although he didn’t have the kind of sickness she was thinking of, he was obviously not in the right state of mind to be interacting with people who mostly saw him as a pillar of stability.

Just as he escaped the forest area, a voice called his name, his eyes widening as he recognized it immediately. 

“Where are you going? Everyone’s still there,” you asked. You had a leaf sticking to the front of your dress and your face was blushed from running to him. 

If you were his, he would’ve dragged you home with him, making good riddance of that damned piece of clothing before showing you just what you did to him. 

Instead, he walked forward a couple of steps and plucked the leaf off, allowing it to drop out of his hand easily.

“I’m not feeling very well,” he said, voice thick and gravely. You looked at him with another new look in your eyes, though he couldn’t decipher what that one meant. Were you upset? Confused?

Or were you interested in the sound of his jealousy-filled tone?

“Right,” you replied shortly, nodding. “You should go get some rest, then.”

“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner?”

“You know the drill.”

With that, Harvey turned back around, almost in a daze as he resumed his journey home. As soon as he got in his apartment, he fell to the ground in exhaustion, swiftly loosening his tie as he leaned back on his door for support. His thoughts were filled with the image of you dancing with the jock, except he imagined it was himself by your side, swaying to the music with your hand entangled with his. Then, of course, there were the thoughts of what would come after; after he’d walk you home, after he would lock the front door, after he’d shrug off his suit and push you onto the bed, lifting the dress and exploring what was underneath. 

At that moment, Harvey knew it was hopeless.

He would trade anything, go to opposite ends of the earth, if it meant you’d be with him.

[quitealotofsodapop]

I have many thoughts on this.

First and foremost, Wukong has extra stones. Since the pendants don't just represent the bond between a mated pair. It's supposed to represent the Monkey themselves in a way too, their family history and those important to them. It isn't uncommon for parents to weave pieces of their own stones into their child's pendant, so when that child gives away their pendant, it's not just to initiate courtship but to officially invite their mat into their family troupe and give a piece of both themselves and their lineage to the other monkey. I imagine Shitougushi had been the one to teach Wukong how to braid and weave his fur, and had added pieces of his own stone, and perhaps a piece of Jade his mother had left him. As for Ye Lin, unfortunately Shitougushi does not have any of his stone, but he knew what it looked like from Shíhua's marriage pendant (which was buried with her) and could fashion a replica.

Macaque, who knows nothing of his lineage and had no such relics form his parents to weave into his pendant, simply chose a simple pendant, but he had a slightly more complicated and secure braid to keep it together to make up for that. I imagine that Macaque had spent hours using hours deliberating over the perfect stone until Chang'e eventually had to step in and tell him to just pick one before he loses his chance and loses the famous 'Peaches' he'd been talking her ears off about for years! She's a romantic and understands the importance of picking the right stone. She gets it, but at some point, it's just delaying the decision. When she later sees Wukong with the pendant during his trial and execution, it had taken all her self control not to intervene when she spotted him clutching to his necklace.

@soniclozdplove;

(Prev Century Stone Egg post)

We were discussing the designs in messages! I love the idea if Wukong's pendant including his parents' stones + the Elder Shitougushi (you know that old stone monkey smiling hard when Shihou asks to include him in the pendant's design).

Wukong using his pendant as the ultimate show of trust towards Macaque, welcoming him into not only his troop but to the life/knowledge of what they both are.

And ofc Macaque being dense at first and not realising the significance until Elder (+ the stone monkey spirits of FFM) smacks him over the head, explaining how much the pendant means to Wukong. Macaque then panicking and running/shadow portal-ing to his sister's place to ask for help choosing part of his birth stone real quick. XD

I love Chang'e being the sibling who's waiting impatiently as Macaque chooses a "wedding ring", but is overjoyed to see him do the exchange! And oh! Her seeing the pendant on Wukong so many years later, especially during his original Trial for the Havoc, and later after Macaque's passing during Jttw when they met in India, and even later still in the modern day, and trying her best not to squee at the romance of it all!

And oohhh Chang'e wanting to intervene during Wukong's original trial/executions in Heaven, but not having the power to do so as a goddess pretty much on house arrest.

The pendants just mean so much to these monkeys, its no wonder that for the longest time the celestials believed that the black-corded amethyst on Sun Wukong's neck was his secret to immortality.

Tysm for this as always! ^_^

[novaursa]

Part 2

- Note: This work was fully published on AO3, so expect steady updates. I'll post regularly to engage more readers.

- Title: zōbrie ānogar

- Rating: Explicit (18+)

- Romance: (Aegon II/OFC)

- Warning: All flags are up for this work. Aegon is also a warning on his own.

- Summary: It was written by Archmaester Gyldayn that on the day Princess Vaella Targaryen was born she was supposed to die. Until she fed upon her twin, Baelon. And when she turned one and five, she sought her end in the lair of Cannibal, in Dragonmont. But instead of feasting upon her, the dragon wept with her. And Archmaester had written a lengthy thesis on how wild dragon recognized a kindred soul in the Princess, as they both dined on their kin.

- Word Count: 9 000+

- Parts: 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Final

In the quiet sanctum of the Red Keep’s library, the flickering candlelight illuminated rows of ancient tomes and scrolls. Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, and Vaella sat around a large wooden table, listening to Maester Mellos. The rare presence of Aegon in such a studious environment, with Kingsguard standing watch nearby, was an unusual sight. However, Aegon paid little attention to the lessons, his focus entirely on Vaella. He sat beside her, absentmindedly playing with her long, pale hair, winding it around his fingers.

Maester Mellos, already irked by Aegon’s lack of interest, glanced over and cleared his throat pointedly. "Prince Aegon, please pay attention. This is important history."

Aegon gave a dismissive shrug, his fingers still entwined in Vaella's hair. "I’m listening," he lied, though his eyes never left Vaella.

Vaella cast a sidelong glance at Aegon, her lips curving into a small, amused smile. She had grown used to his antics, even if they occasionally annoyed her. The atmosphere was tense, broken only by the rustling of parchment and the occasional exasperated sigh from Maester Mellos.

The door to the library opened, and Alicent Hightower stepped in. She looked at her three children and said, "Aegon, Aemond, Helaena, come with me. Your father wants to speak with you."

Alicent’s gaze lingered on Vaella, her expression unreadable. Vaella sensed a hint of disappointment, though she knew it wasn't directed at her. She remained seated as Maester Mellos resumed his lesson, clearly uncomfortable with Vaella’s presence but bound by duty to continue.

Aegon looked at Vaella, his expression one of reluctance. He seemed ready to protest, but Alicent’s stern gaze silenced him. He hung his head and reluctantly stood, following his mother and siblings out of the library. Vaella watched them go, a sense of unease settling in her chest.

Alicent led her children to King Viserys’s chambers. The King, looking more frail than ever, sat propped up with cushions, his face lined with weariness. He smiled weakly as his children entered, though the gravity of the moment was clear.

"I have come to a decision," Viserys began, his voice thin but firm. "Aegon, you will marry Helaena. This union will strengthen our family and bring stability."

Aegon automatically stiffened, his face contorting with anger. "What?" he barked, unable to contain his outrage. "No, I will not marry Helaena! She should be wed to either Aemond or Daeron, call him back from Oldtown. I will marry Vaella."

Viserys opened his mouth to respond, but Aegon continued, his voice growing louder. "I will not marry Helaena. Vaella is the only one I will wed." He turned to his mother for support, but Alicent averted her gaze, her expression pained. It was clear her voice had not been heard, and she disagreed with her husband's decision.

Viserys sighed weakly, his eyes closing briefly as if summoning the strength to continue. "Vaella will be wed to a noble lord to further our House's standing. This is my final decision."

Aegon's face flushed with fury. "I will not wed anyone besides Vaella," he shouted, his voice echoing through the chamber. He turned on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by Viserys’s labored breathing. Alicent looked at her husband, her eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and resignation. "Viserys," she began softly, but he raised a hand to silence her.

"This is not up for debate, Alicent," Viserys said, his voice tired but resolute. "The decision has been made."

Aemond and Helaena stood quietly, their faces a mix of confusion and concern. Aemond glanced at Helaena, who looked pale and uneasy at the prospect of her new betrothal. Alicent gathered her composure and turned to her remaining children.

"Come, let us leave your father to rest," she said gently. She led them out of the chamber, her mind already racing with the implications of Viserys’s decree.

…

Alicent found Aegon in his chambers, pacing furiously. His anger was palpable, the air thick with his frustration and hurt. As she entered, he turned to her, his eyes blazing with fury.

"How could you let this decision stand?" he demanded, his voice trembling with emotion. "You’re my mother! You should have stopped him!"

Alicent sighed deeply, her own frustration mingling with sadness. "Aegon, I tried. I have spoken to your father many times, but he is adamant about keeping Vaella away from you."

Aegon’s face twisted with anger. "I will not wed Helaena. I won’t do it."

"Aegon, please try to understand," Alicent pleaded, stepping closer. "Your father believes this is what's best for our family."

"I don't care what he believes!" Aegon shouted, his voice echoing off the walls. "He doesn't understand what this means to me. Vaella is the only one I want to be with."

Alicent’s expression softened with empathy, but she knew the futility of arguing against Viserys’s decision. "Aegon, I know this is hard, but you must try to accept it."

Aegon's panic grew, his eyes wide with fear at the thought of being separated from Vaella. "What if they marry her off to someone else? What if she's taken away from me?" He began to hyperventilate, his chest heaving with panic. "I can't lose her, Mother. I can't!"

Alicent reached out, trying to calm him, but he recoiled, his fear turning into blame. "This is your fault!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "If you had fought harder, this wouldn’t be happening!"

The accusation stung, and Alicent’s patience snapped. She slapped Aegon across the face, the sound sharp and shocking in the quiet room. Aegon stood frozen, his hand slowly moving to his cheek where her palm had struck.

"Aegon," Alicent said, her voice trembling with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "You do not understand the complexities of ruling, the sacrifices that must be made for the good of the realm. Your father’s decision is final. You must learn to accept it."

Aegon’s eyes filled with tears, his anger momentarily eclipsed by the shock of the slap and the depth of his despair. "But I love her," he whispered, his voice breaking.

Alicent’s heart ached for her son. She stepped forward and took his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes. "I know, Aegon. I know how much she means to you. But you must find a way to be strong, to honor your father's wishes. This is the burden we bear as members of the royal family."

Aegon closed his eyes, a single tear slipping down his cheek. "I don't know if I can do this, Mother. I don't know if I can live without her."

Alicent pulled him into a tight embrace, her own tears threatening to spill. "You are stronger than you think, my son. And no matter what happens, you will always have my love and support."

Aegon clung to his mother, the anger and fear slowly giving way to a deep, abiding sadness. The future seemed bleak and uncertain, but in this moment, he found a small measure of comfort in her arms. 

As they stood there, wrapped in a silent embrace, Alicent prayed for the strength to guide her son through the difficult times ahead. 

…

After her studies, Vaella wandered through the winding corridors of the Red Keep, her mind still preoccupied with the events of the day. She turned a corner and spotted Aemond and Helaena standing together in a secluded alcove, their expressions troubled and somber. Concerned, she approached them, her brow furrowing with worry.

"Aemond, Helaena, what happened?" she asked, her voice gentle but filled with urgency.

Aemond glanced at Helaena before meeting Vaella’s eyes. "Father has decided that Aegon will marry Helaena," he said, his tone flat.

Vaella’s eyes widened in shock. "What? When did this happen?"

"Just now," Helaena replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mother and Father called us to his chambers. Aegon was furious."

Vaella was left speechless, the weight of the news settling heavily on her shoulders. She turned to Helaena, her concern deepening. "Helaena, what do you think about this?"

Helaena sighed, looking down at her hands. "I don’t know, Vaella. I never imagined marrying Aegon. He’s always been so... difficult."

Aemond scoffed softly, shaking his head. "Difficult is putting it lightly. He’s impossible."

Vaella nodded, her thoughts racing. She knew how possessive Aegon was of her, and the idea of him being forced into a marriage he didn’t want was troubling. But her immediate concern was Helaena. "Are you okay with this?" she asked, her voice gentle.

Helaena looked up, her eyes meeting Vaella’s. "I suppose I don’t have much of a choice. It’s Father’s decision. But it feels... wrong."

Vaella reached out and took Helaena’s hands in hers, squeezing them reassuringly. "I’m here for you, Helaena. We’ll get through this together."

Helaena gave her a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Vaella. That means a lot to me."

Aemond sighed, his expression conflicted. "I hate seeing Aegon like this. But at the same time, I can’t help but feel relieved that it’s not you who has to marry him."

Vaella nodded, understanding his feelings. "It’s a difficult situation for all of us. But we have to support each other, no matter what."

Helaena nodded, her eyes filling with determination. "We will. We’re family, after all."

Vaella smiled, feeling a surge of affection for her siblings. Despite the challenges and uncertainties ahead, she knew they would face them together. "Let’s go for a walk in the gardens," she suggested. "It might help clear our heads."

The three of them made their way to the gardens, the fresh air and the scent of blooming flowers providing a much-needed respite from the tension within the castle. As they walked, they talked about their fears and hopes, finding comfort in each other’s presence.

…

Later that evening, Vaella sat in her chambers, trying to find solace in the quiet after the tumultuous day. She was lost in thought when the door creaked open, and Aegon stepped inside. His face was a picture of despair, his eyes red and swollen from crying. He looked utterly broken.

"Aegon," Vaella whispered, her heart aching at the sight of him. She knew Alicent had forbidden them from sharing a bed, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn him away. She stood and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around him in a comforting embrace.

Aegon clung to her desperately, his body trembling with sobs. "Vaella, I can't do it. I won't wed Helaena. Father is trying to keep you away from me," he cried, his voice breaking. "He thinks I'm not good enough for anything, let alone you."

Vaella tightened her hold on him, her heart breaking for her brother. "Shh, Aegon. It's going to be okay," she murmured, stroking his hair gently. "We'll find a way through this."

She led him to the bed, and they sat down together. Aegon buried his face in her shoulder, his tears soaking through her gown. Vaella held him, her own eyes filling with tears as she felt his pain.

"I can't lose you, Vaella," Aegon whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You're the only one who understands me, the only one who cares."

Vaella kissed the top of his head, her heart aching for him. "You won't lose me, Aegon. I'm here, and I'll always be here for you."

Aegon’s sobs gradually subsided, replaced by deep, shuddering breaths. Vaella continued to hold him, offering silent comfort. Eventually, they lay down together, Vaella cradling him in her arms.

"Father just doesn’t understand," Aegon muttered, his voice hoarse from crying. "He’s always thought I was a disappointment. But you, Vaella... you're the only one who makes me feel like I'm worth something."

Vaella’s eyes filled with tears as she listened to him. "Aegon, you are worth everything to me. Don’t let Father’s words define you. We’ll find a way to be together, no matter what."

Aegon sighed, his breath warm against her neck. "I hope you're right. I can't imagine my life without you."

Vaella stroked his hair, her heart full of love and determination. "We'll make it through this, Aegon."

As they lay there, the room filled with a sense of peace and comfort. The world outside their small sanctuary felt distant, and for a moment, all that mattered was the bond between them. Aegon’s breathing slowly evened out as he drifted into sleep, his tears finally spent.

Vaella watched over him, her heart heavy with the weight of their shared burdens. She knew that the road ahead would be difficult, but she was determined to stand by Aegon’s side, no matter what. As she closed her eyes and held him close, she whispered a silent promise to herself: to protect him, to support him, and to fight for their future together.

And so, they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s embrace, finding solace in the one person who understood and loved them unconditionally.

…

A few days later, Vaella found herself in the presence of her stepmother, Alicent Hightower. The interactions between them had always been awkward, strained by the complicated relationships and the familial tensions that seemed to pervade the Red Keep. Vaella knew that Aegon’s attachment to her was a point of contention, something Alicent had long tried to break but had recently begun to accept, realizing that Vaella’s presence had a stabilizing effect on Aegon’s more destructive habits and impulses.

The two sat in a quiet chamber, the air thick with unspoken words. Alicent was working on some embroidery, her movements precise and measured, while Vaella sat nearby, her hands folded in her lap.

"Vaella," Alicent began, her tone formal yet not unkind, "how have you been finding your studies?"

Vaella looked up, meeting her stepmother’s eyes. "They have been well, thank you, Mother. Maester Mellos has been very thorough."

Alicent nodded, her focus returning to her needlework. "That is good to hear. Your education is important, especially in times such as these."

There was a pause, the silence growing heavy. Vaella took a deep breath, deciding to speak her mind. "Mother, I wanted to thank you."

Alicent looked up, surprise flickering across her face. "Thank me? For what, child?"

"For taking care of Father all these years," Vaella said softly. "I know it must have been difficult, especially with everything that has happened."

The stern lines on Alicent’s face softened at Vaella’s gratitude. She set aside her embroidery, her hands resting in her lap. "I only did and do my duty, Vaella. As a wife, as a queen."

Vaella nodded, her expression earnest. "I know. But I am thankful nonetheless."

Alicent studied her for a moment, her eyes thoughtful. "You have a kind heart, Vaella. It is a rare quality, and one that I hope you never lose."

Vaella smiled faintly, the warmth of Alicent’s words comforting her. "Thank you, Mother. I try my best."

After a moment's silence, Vaella’s expression turned somber. "I often think about my twin brother, Baelon."

Alicent’s gaze sharpened, her interest piqued. "Do you, now?"

Vaella nodded, her voice tinged with sadness. "I feel responsible for his death. If I could, I would change places with him. Perhaps then, Father would be less miserable, and he would treat everyone better. Even you."

Alicent’s face softened with understanding, her stern demeanor giving way to compassion. "Oh, Vaella. You mustn’t blame yourself for what happened. It was a tragedy, but it was not your fault."

Vaella’s eyes filled with unshed tears. "But sometimes it feels like it is. If I had cried when I was born, if I had been stronger…"

Alicent reached out, placing a gentle hand on Vaella’s. "You were a newborn, Vaella. There was nothing you could have done. Your father’s sorrow is his own, and he carries it for many reasons. Do not take that burden upon yourself."

Vaella nodded, grateful for Alicent’s words, though the weight of her guilt still lingered. She stood, feeling the need to leave before her emotions overwhelmed her. "Thank you, Mother. For everything."

Alicent watched her stepdaughter leave, her mind swirling with thoughts. She recalled the words of Maester Mellos, the strange circumstances surrounding Baelon’s death. Vaella had not cried until after her twin brother had passed, and there had always been an air of mystery and unease about that event.

As Vaella’s footsteps faded down the corridor, Alicent sat in the quiet chamber, her needlework forgotten. Her thoughts drifted to the past, to the fateful day when Baelon had been found lifeless in his crib next to Vaella. The Maester’s words echoed in her mind, speaking of omens and strange occurrences.

Alicent sighed, feeling the weight of her responsibilities and the complexities of her family’s history pressing down on her. She had done her best to navigate the treacherous waters of court life, to protect her children and secure their futures. But some burdens, she realized, could never be fully laid to rest.

As the evening shadows lengthened, Alicent resumed her embroidery, her fingers moving deftly through the fabric. The quiet chamber was filled with the soft sounds of needle and thread, a moment of calm amidst the storm of their lives. In her heart, she carried the hope that somehow, they would all find a way to heal and move forward.

…

As Vaella made her way down the dimly lit corridor of the Red Keep, she was lost in thought about her recent conversation with Alicent. The weight of her family's turmoil pressed heavily on her shoulders. Her mind was filled with worries about Aegon, Helaena, and her father. She barely noticed the figure approaching until he was right in front of her.

"Princess Vaella," Otto Hightower's voice was smooth but commanding. He was the Hand of the King, and his presence always demanded attention.

Vaella stopped and looked up, her expression polite but guarded. "Lord Hightower."

"Have you seen Alicent?" Otto asked, his piercing eyes scrutinizing her.

"Yes, my lord," Vaella replied, maintaining her composure. "She is in her chambers, attending to some letters."

Otto nodded, his expression unreadable. As Vaella turned to leave, he spoke again, stopping her in her tracks. "My son, Ser Gwayne, has been asking about you."

Vaella's heart sank, but she kept her face neutral. "Oh, has he?" she replied politely, her tone carefully controlled. "Please send him my regards."

Otto's eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to gauge her reaction. "You should consider speaking with him more often. He is quite fond of you."

"Thank you for letting me know, Lord Hightower," Vaella said, eager to escape the conversation. "I will keep that in mind."

With a polite nod, she turned and walked away, feeling Otto's eyes on her back until she rounded the corner. The moment she was out of sight, she quickened her pace, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn't want to think about Ser Gwayne or any potential suitors. The idea of marriage, especially after her conversation with Alicent, felt like another weight pressing down on her.

Vaella finally reached her chambers and closed the door behind her, leaning against it with a sigh of relief. The silence of her room was a stark contrast to the chaos in her mind. She crossed the room and sank onto her bed, feeling the tears welling up in her eyes.

Everything felt overwhelming. The responsibility of supporting Aegon, the tension with her father, the absence of Rhaenyra—it all pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe. She missed her sister terribly. Rhaenyra had always been a source of strength and guidance, and without her, Vaella felt adrift.

She curled up on her bed, hugging a pillow to her chest as the tears finally spilled over. "Rhaenyra," she whispered into the silence, her voice trembling. "I need you. I don’t know how to do this without you."

The room offered no answers, only the quiet sound of her own breathing and the occasional creak of the wooden beams above. Vaella closed her eyes, trying to find some semblance of peace. She thought of Aegon, of his broken expression when he had come to her that night. She thought of Helaena, who faced an uncertain future with a strength Vaella admired. And she thought of her father, a once-great king now frail and weary.

"I have to be strong," she whispered to herself, wiping away her tears. "For them. For our family."

With renewed determination, Vaella sat up and took a deep breath. She knew the path ahead would be difficult, but she was a Targaryen. She had the blood of the dragon in her veins, and she would face whatever came her way with the strength and resilience that defined her family.

As she prepared for the night, Vaella felt a small flicker of hope amidst the darkness. She might be young, and the world might be filled with trails, but she was not alone. She had her family, and she had herself. And that, she decided, would be enough.

…

The news of Lady Laena Velaryon’s death had arrived in King's Landing like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over the royal family. The raven brought with it the grim details of her passing, having died giving birth to her third child. Preparations for the funeral at Driftmark were underway, and the Red Keep was a flurry of activity as servants rushed to ensure everything was in order.

Vaella, Aegon, and Aemond were together in one of the quieter rooms, away from the chaos. Vaella was seated at a small table, carefully finishing the painting of a dragon model that Viserys had helped her create. The dragon was a tribute to her twin brother, Baelon, a way for her to feel connected to him despite his absence.

Aegon, restless and bored, lounged nearby, watching her with growing irritation. "Why are you fussing over that thing, Vaella?" he asked, his tone sharp.

Vaella didn’t look up from her work, her focus intent on the delicate details. "It’s a dragon for Baelon. It helps me feel close to him."

Aegon’s reaction was immediate and harsh. He had grown tired of hearing about the brother who had never lived, the one who seemed to hold so much of Vaella’s affection. "Enough about this dead twin of yours," he snapped, striding over and snatching the model from her hands.

Vaella’s eyes widened in shock and fear. "Aegon, please give it back," she pleaded, reaching out for the dragon.

Aegon examined the model with a sneer, his jealousy and frustration boiling over. "This is rubbish," he declared, flicking it away carelessly.

The dragon hit the stone floor with a sickening crack, breaking into several pieces. Vaella gasped, her eyes welling up with tears as she dropped to her knees, frantically trying to collect the broken parts.

Aemond, who had been quietly observing, sprang to his feet, fury in his eyes. "Aegon, how could you?!" he yelled, his voice filled with outrage.

Vaella’s tears spilled over as she gathered the pieces, her heart breaking along with the model. "You didn’t have to do that," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

Aegon, still fueled by jealousy and now regret, crossed his arms defensively. "You’re just being dramatic, Vaella. After all, you’re the one who killed your precious brother."

The words hung in the air like a curse, stunning everyone into silence. Vaella’s head snapped up, her eyes burning with a mixture of pain and fury. Aegon realized his mistake too late, the weight of his cruel words sinking in.

Vaella stood abruptly, her face a mask of anguish. Without another word, she rushed out of the room, her sobs echoing in the hallway. Aemond turned on Aegon, his anger palpable. "What’s wrong with you? How could you say something so vile?"

Aegon’s bravado crumbled, replaced by guilt and self-loathing. "I didn’t mean it, Aemond. I was just…"

"You were just being a selfish, jealous brat," Aemond interrupted, his voice cold. "Vaella’s done nothing but care for you, and this is how you repay her?"

Aegon hung his head, the enormity of his actions hitting him hard. "I’m sorry," he muttered, but the apology felt hollow even to his own ears.

Aemond shook his head, his disappointment evident. "Sorry won’t fix this. You need to make it right with Vaella. She doesn’t deserve this from you."

Meanwhile, Vaella fled to her chambers, her heart aching with the weight of Aegon’s words. She collapsed onto her bed, clutching the broken pieces of the dragon to her chest. Her sobs wracked her body as she mourned not just the destruction of the model, but the harsh reminder of her brother's death and the blame she had carried for so long.

The memory of Baelon, the twin she had never truly known but felt deeply connected to, was a wound that never fully healed. Aegon’s words had torn that wound open, and she felt the raw pain of it all over again. The one comfort she had, the one thing that helped her feel close to Baelon, was now shattered, just like her heart.

As the night grew darker, Vaella’s tears finally subsided, leaving her feeling hollow and exhausted. She knew she had to be strong, but in that moment, she allowed herself to grieve, clutching the broken pieces of her dragon and whispering a silent promise to Baelon that she would find a way to heal, for both their sakes.

…

Aegon stumbled through the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep, his heart pounding with a mixture of guilt and desperation. The realization of what he had said to Vaella weighed heavily on him, and he knew he had to find her and make things right. His steps were uneven, his emotions a chaotic storm within him.

As he rounded a corner, he saw Ser Criston Cole speaking with his mother, Queen Alicent. The knight's stern expression contrasted sharply with Alicent's worried gaze. Aegon considered approaching them but decided against it, knowing that his mother would likely scold him rather than help. He pressed on, determined to find Vaella.

"Vaella!" he called out, his voice echoing through the stone halls. He received no response, only the distant murmur of servants going about their duties.

Eventually, he encountered Haelena, who was quietly observing a tapestry depicting a dragon's flight. "Haelena," Aegon panted, his breath short from the hurried search. "Have you seen Vaella?"

Haelena turned to him, her eyes distant and dreamy. "I haven’t seen her, Aegon. But you should watch out for Vaella, as something might eat her."

Aegon sighed, used to his sister's cryptic ramblings. "Thanks, Haelena," he muttered, not really listening. He continued his search, feeling the weight of time pressing down on him.

As he walked, he passed a platter of wine goblets left by a servant. Without thinking, he grabbed one and drank deeply, the wine burning his throat and dulling the sharp edges of his panic. He repeated the action with another goblet, feeling the effects of the alcohol quickly. His steps became more unsteady, but he was determined to find Vaella.

Eventually, he found her in a secluded corner of the castle, sitting on a stone bench near a small garden. She looked up as he approached, her eyes red from crying. The sight of her made his heart ache even more.

"Vaella," he called softly, stumbling slightly as he approached her. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of what I said. Please, you have to believe me."

Vaella looked at him, her expression a mix of hurt and resignation. "Aegon, you can’t just say things like that and expect everything to be alright. You broke my dragon, and you blamed me for Baelon’s death. How could you?"

Aegon fell to his knees in front of her, his eyes pleading. "I know, Vaella. I know. I was jealous and angry, but I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry." His voice broke as he spoke, the wine and his emotions making him almost incoherent.

Vaella sighed, tears welling up in her eyes again. "You always do this, Aegon. You say hurtful things, and then you apologize, and I always forgive you. But you have to understand how much it hurts."

Aegon reached out, his hands trembling. "I’ll do anything, Vaella. Just please forgive me. I can’t stand it when you’re upset with me."

They argued back and forth, Aegon’s desperation clashing with Vaella’s hurt. The conversation grew heated, their voices rising in the quiet garden. But eventually, as always, Vaella’s resolve softened. She saw the genuine remorse in Aegon’s eyes, the way he was truly sorry for his actions.

She sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping. "Alright, Aegon. I forgive you. But you have to promise me you’ll try to control your temper. We can’t keep doing this."

Aegon nodded vigorously, relief flooding through him. "I promise, Vaella. I’ll be better. I swear it."

Vaella gave him a small, sad smile. "You need to get yourself together. We’re leaving for Driftmark soon, and we need to be strong for our family."

Aegon rose unsteadily to his feet, his heart lighter but still burdened by his guilt. "I will. I promise, Vaella. Thank you."

They embraced, Vaella holding onto him tightly as if to reassure herself that he was truly sorry. As they stood there, the sounds of the Red Keep faded into the background.

Eventually, they pulled apart, and Vaella looked into his eyes. "Let’s go back. We need to prepare for the journey."

Aegon nodded, the alcohol in his system making him slightly unsteady but determined. Together, they walked back towards the heart of the castle, ready to face the challenges ahead. 

…

The funeral of Lady Laena Velaryon was a somber affair, the sky over Driftmark heavy with clouds that seemed to echo the sorrow of the occasion. The sea breeze carried the scent of salt and mourning as the royal family gathered to pay their respects. Vaella stood between her father, King Viserys, and her half-brother Aegon, who barely concealed his boredom. She nudged him discreetly, hoping to remind him of the gravity of the moment as Vaemond Velaryon began his speech in High Valyrian.

Vaella listened intently, her eyes fixed on Vaemond as he extolled Laena's virtues and spoke of the purity of their bloodline. When he reached the part of his speech that touched upon blood purity, Vaella’s gaze shifted to her uncle Daemon, standing apart from the rest of the mourners. Daemon’s quiet chuckle drew several curious and disapproving glances, adding an undercurrent of tension to the solemn ceremony.

As Laena’s body was prepared for its final journey into the sea, Vaella felt a mixture of sorrow and unease. The circumstances of their gathering were dark, but she was grateful to see her sister Rhaenyra after so long. Once Laena’s body was committed to the depths, the guests began to move, offering their sympathies to Daemon, Laena’s parents, Corlys and Rhaenys, and her twin daughters.

Ignoring Aegon’s insistent nagging not to leave him alone with Aemond and Helaena, Vaella slipped through the crowd, her heart set on finding Rhaenyra. She weaved her way past grieving nobles and courtiers, finally spotting her sister standing with her sons, Jacaerys and Lucerys.

“Rhaenyra!” Vaella called out, her voice a mixture of joy and relief.

Rhaenyra turned, her face lighting up as she saw her sister. “Vaella!” she exclaimed, opening her arms for an embrace. The two sisters hugged tightly, the warmth of their reunion a small comfort amidst the sorrow.

“It’s so good to see you,” Vaella said, pulling back slightly to look at Rhaenyra’s face. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” Rhaenyra replied, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “These have been difficult times.”

Vaella nodded, then turned to her nephews. “Hello, Jace. Hello, Luke,” she greeted them warmly.

“Hello, Aunt Vaella,” Jacaerys said, managing a small smile despite the somber occasion.

Lucerys nodded, his expression serious but pleased to see her. “Hello.”

Vaella ruffled Lucerys’s hair affectionately, then turned back to Rhaenyra. “How have you been holding up?”

Rhaenyra sighed, glancing at her sons before answering. “It’s been hard, but we’re managing. The boys have been a great comfort to me.”

Vaella squeezed her sister’s hand. “I’m glad you have each other. And I’m here now, too.”

Rhaenyra smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. “Yes, you are. And it means the world to me.”

They stood together, drawing strength from their reunion, even as the mourners around them continued to offer condolences. Vaella felt a sense of peace being with her sister, a small respite from the constant pressures and tensions back at King’s Landing.

Meanwhile, Aegon stood with Aemond and Helaena, casting anxious glances in Vaella’s direction. He wanted to follow her, to ensure she was safe and to draw comfort from her presence, but he knew better than to disrupt the sisters’ reunion. Aemond, noticing his brother’s discomfort, smirked slightly.

“Miss her already, Aegon?” Aemond teased, his tone light but knowing.

Aegon scowled. “Shut up, Aemond.”

Helaena, lost in her own world, looked up suddenly. “The sea takes and the sea gives, but the heart remembers always,” she murmured, her voice distant and cryptic.

Aegon sighed, his frustration growing. “I just wish this was over.”

Back with Rhaenyra, Vaella felt the need to address the elephant in the room. “Rhaenyra, I heard about what happened with Harwin and Lyonel. I’m so sorry.”

Rhaenyra’s expression darkened briefly, but she nodded. “Thank you, Vaella. It’s been a challenging time, but we must carry on.”

Vaella nodded, her heart aching for her sister. “If you need anything, anything at all, please tell me.”

Rhaenyra smiled gratefully. “I will. Thank you, Vaella. Your support means more than you know.”

As Vaella talked with Rhaenyra, their father, Viserys, joined them, his presence lending an air of solemnity and gravitas to their conversation. They discussed the funeral and shared memories of Laena, finding comfort in each other's company. Nearby, Aemond took the opportunity to address his brother, Aegon, who had already managed to snatch a goblet of wine.

"Aegon," Aemond said sharply, his voice low but firm, "you should at least try to spend some time with Helaena. She will be your wife."

Aegon scoffed, his gaze drifting over to Vaella, who was deeply engrossed in conversation with their father and Rhaenyra. "I've already told you all, I will not marry her," he said dismissively, taking a deep drink from his goblet.

Aemond's eyes narrowed in frustration. "You have no choice, Aegon. You can deny it all you want, but it is Father's decree."

Annoyed, Aegon retorted, "Then you marry her, Aemond, since you defend her so much."

Aemond's face hardened. "If she were given to me, I would marry her. I would do my duty."

Aegon rolled his eyes, the word "duty" like a bitter pill. His mind flashed back to a conversation with his mother a few months ago, a memory that still stung. Alicent had found him in the gardens, her expression stern and her tone urgent.

"Aegon," she had said, "you must understand your duty. As the firstborn son of the king who should’ve been named heir after your birth, you are a threat to Rhaenyra’s claim. By simply living and breathing. You need to start behaving more reasonably."

Aegon had looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of confusion and frustration. "I don't want any of that, Mother. I just want Vaella."

Alicent's reaction had been swift and harsh. She had slapped him, the sound echoing in the quiet garden. "You will do your duty," she had said, her voice cold and unyielding.

After that confrontation, Aegon had left, seeking solace in Vaella's chambers. The memory of that slap and his mother's words haunted him now as he stood in the dimly lit Driftmark hall.

"Do you even understand what duty means, Aegon?" Aemond asked, his voice cutting through Aegon's reverie. "It's about more than just what you want. It's about the family, the realm."

Aegon glared at his brother, his frustration bubbling over. "I understand more than you think, Aemond. I just don't care."

Aemond shook his head in disbelief. "You are hopeless."

Aegon took another deep drink, his eyes once again drifting to Vaella. "Maybe. But at least I know what I want."

Meanwhile, Vaella was deeply engaged in conversation with Rhaenyra and Viserys. They reminisced about happier times, their shared laughter and stories a brief respite from the grief that hung over the funeral.

"Father, you remember how Laena used to challenge us to races on the beach?" Rhaenyra asked, a wistful smile on her lips.

Viserys nodded, his eyes brightening at the memory. "She always had such a fierce spirit. It's a great loss for all of us."

Vaella listened, feeling a sense of warmth and belonging in their shared memories. She glanced over at Aegon and Aemond, noticing the tension between them but choosing to stay focused on her conversation.

Rhaenyra placed a comforting hand on Vaella's shoulder. "It's good to see you, Vaella. We need each other now more than ever."

Vaella smiled, feeling the love and support of her family. "I'm glad to be here with you all."

The conversation flowed, a blend of sadness and comfort, as they found solace in each other's presence. The evening wore on, the weight of their responsibilities and the loss of Laena ever-present, but the bond between them offered strength and hope for the days ahead.

Aegon, feeling the effects of the wine and the emotional toll of the day, finally made his way over to Vaella. "Vaella," he said quietly, his voice tinged with vulnerability, "can we talk?"

Vaella looked up, concern etched on her face. "Of course, Aegon." She excused herself from Rhaenyra and Viserys, leading Aegon to a quieter corner of the hall.

"I'm sorry for everything," Aegon began, his voice trembling slightly. "For what I said about Baelon, for not supporting you the way I should."

Vaella's expression softened, her heart aching for her brother. "Aegon, I forgive you. But you need to understand, we all have a duty to our family."

Aegon nodded, his eyes downcast. "I know. It's just... so hard."

Vaella reached out, taking his hand in hers. "We'll face it together. But you need to be strong, for all of us."

Aegon looked up, meeting her gaze with a mixture of hope and determination. "I'll try, Vaella. For you."

They embraced, finding comfort in each other's presence. As they held each other, they knew that no matter what lay ahead, they would face it together, united by their love and loyalty.

…

As the evening gave way to night, the royal families began to retire to their chambers. The air was heavy with the weight of the day’s sorrow and the undercurrent of familial tensions. Otto Hightower, ever vigilant, was overseeing the last of his family’s attendants when he caught sight of Aegon, clearly drunk, clinging to his half-sister Vaella. His face twisted with anger and embarrassment at the sight of his grandson bringing shame to their family.

Otto strode over, his expression severe. "Vaella, get him out of here," he ordered sharply. He then turned his ire on Aegon, his voice a harsh whisper. "You are an embarrassment, Aegon. Pull yourself together."

Vaella nodded, gently pulling Aegon away from the gathering. "Come on, Aegon, it’s time to go to bed."

Aegon, his steps unsteady, leaned heavily on Vaella as they made their way through the corridors of Driftmark. He muttered incoherently, his words slurred by the wine. Vaella remained patient, her grip on him firm but caring.

When they reached the chambers designated for Aegon, he suddenly pulled Vaella inside with him. The door closed behind them with a soft thud, sealing them in the dimly lit room.

"Aegon, what are you doing?" Vaella asked, her voice filled with concern.

Aegon, his mind fogged by the alcohol, didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled her onto the bed with him, his movements clumsy but insistent. He pressed his lips to hers in a fervent kiss, his desperation palpable. Vaella tried to break the kiss, pushing against his chest gently.

"Aegon, stop," she murmured against his lips. "Mother will be furious if she finds us like this."

Aegon dismissed her words, his focus solely on her. "I don’t care about Mother," he muttered, his voice raw with emotion. He pulled back slightly, his violet eyes searching her indigo ones. "Vaella, do you love me?"

Vaella’s heart ached at the vulnerability in his gaze. She looked into his eyes, seeing the depth of his longing and the pain he tried so hard to mask. Her own feelings were a complex web of love, loyalty, and the heavy burden of their family’s expectations.

"Aegon…" she began, her voice trembling. She cupped his face in her hands, her thumb brushing gently over his cheek. "You know I care about you deeply."

Aegon’s eyes pleaded with her, his hands gripping her waist as if afraid she would slip away. "But do you love me?" he pressed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Vaella took a deep breath, her emotions swirling within her. She felt the weight of their shared history, the unspoken bond that had always connected them. She knew that her answer carried immense significance, a promise of loyalty and support amidst the chaos of their lives.

She looked into his eyes, her own filled with a mixture of tenderness and resolve. "Yes, Aegon, I love you."

Aegon’s relief was palpable, his tense body relaxing slightly as he leaned into her touch. He kissed her again, softer this time, his desperation giving way to a deep, abiding need for reassurance and comfort.

As the night deepened, Aegon muttered into Vaella's neck, his voice filled with despair. "Nobody else loves me, except for you. You heard what Grandsire Otto said—I’m a disgrace."

Vaella held him tighter, her heart aching for him. "Aegon, you are special to me. Don’t listen to them. They don’t understand you like I do."

Aegon buried his head further into her neck, savoring the closeness before he began kissing her again, his childhood rivalry with Rhaenyra resurfacing. "I won’t let Rhaenyra take your attention again," he murmured between kisses.

Vaella closed her eyes, choosing silence over words, not wanting to ruin the moment or send him into another spiral. She cherished the connection they shared, a bond they had to hide more and more as they grew older. She wasn’t naive; she had heard the whispers of the servants comparing her to Rhaenyra’s rumored promiscuity in her younger years. It was one of many rumors she had learned to ignore.

As Aegon's kisses trailed down her body, Vaella's soft moans began to fill the room. His kisses were eager yet familiar, evoking sensations she had come to know well. When his kisses reached her thighs, her breathing grew shallow with anticipation.

Aegon lifted his head, quickly undoing his own attire. They shared a look filled with longing and determination, a silent understanding passing between them. Just as they were about to join, the chamber doors burst open. Commander Harrold Westerling, alarmed and taken aback by the scene before him, stood in the doorway.

Aegon and Vaella scrambled to disentangle and cover themselves with the sheets. Harrold averted his eyes, his voice urgent. "There’s been an incident. The king demands your presence in the throne room immediately."

Their intimate moment shattered, replaced by a cold dread. Vaella nodded, her heart pounding. "We’ll be there right away."

Harrold turned and left, leaving the door ajar. Aegon and Vaella quickly dressed, the urgency of the situation sobering them. They exchanged a final glance, their connection momentarily overshadowed by the gravity of the call.

As they left the chambers and approached the grand doors of the throne room, the faint murmurs of the gathered nobles reached their ears.

Aegon squeezed Vaella's hand, a silent promise that they would face whatever came next together. She squeezed back, drawing strength from his presence. The heavy doors loomed before them, the threshold to yet another challenge in their complex lives.

…

Aegon and Vaella walked into the throne room, their hearts pounding in their chests. The sight that greeted them was one of chaos and bloodshed. King Viserys stood fuming, leaning heavily on his cane, his face a mask of fury and grief. Jacaerys and Lucerys were standing in front of the angry and tearful Baela and Rhaena, both boys bloodied and battered. But the sight that shook Vaella the most was Aemond, sitting in a chair with the Maester just finishing his work. Aemond's eye was gone, replaced by thick, bloody stitches that adorned the empty socket.

Before Vaella could fully comprehend what had happened, Aegon was suddenly struck hard across the cheek by Alicent. The force of the slap sent him stumbling back a step. Alicent's face was a mixture of rage and despair as she hissed at him, "Where were you?"

Commander Harrold, who had followed them in, spoke up hesitantly. "Prince Aegon was in bed... with Princess Vaella."

Alicent's eyes flicked to Vaella, giving her a pained grimace and a look that promised a severe conversation about the broken promise they had made to the Queen. Turning her fury back to Aegon, she accused him bitterly, "While you indulged in your desires, your little brother was attacked and maimed!"

Aegon, holding his stinging cheek, looked around the room in a daze, his eyes wide with shock and guilt. "I didn’t know, Mother. I didn’t know," he muttered, his voice breaking.

Vaella stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and holding his head against her. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling.

Viserys's attention shifted briefly to Aegon and Vaella, his expression one of deep disappointment and sadness. "Aegon, Vaella, we will discuss this later," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "Right now, we must address this grievous injury to Aemond."

Vaella's heart ached as she looked at Aemond, who was staring blankly ahead, his face pale and drawn. She wanted to go to him, to offer some comfort, but she knew that her presence would only complicate matters further.

Just then, the doors to the throne room opened again, and Rhaenyra entered with Daemon following closely behind her. Her face was a mask of alarm as she took in the scene before her, her eyes widening in shock and fear.

"What happened?" Rhaenyra demanded, rushing to her sons and inspecting their injuries. "Jace, Luke, are you all right?"

Jacaerys and Lucerys nodded, though their faces were marked with cuts and bruises. "We're fine, Mother," Jacaerys said, his voice steady despite the pain.

Daemon's gaze swept the room, taking in the blood, the tension, and the wounded Aemond. His expression darkened, and he stepped forward, his presence commanding and intimidating.

"Who did this?" Daemon asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Alicent, her eyes filled with tears, pointed a trembling finger at Rhaenyra's sons. "They did. They attacked Aemond."

Rhaenyra's eyes flashed with anger as she turned to her sons. "Is this true?"

Then all hell broke loose just as Rhaenys and Corlys arrived, their faces etched with concern and confusion. Jacaerys and Lucerys began to shout, their voices rising above the din. "Aemond attacked Rhaena and Baela!" Jace cried.

Baela, her face flushed with anger and tears streaming down her cheeks, yelled, "He stole our mother's dragon! It was Aemond who attacked first!"

Aemond, bloodied and battered but defiant, shouted back, "I did not attack them! I claimed the dragon because no one else had the courage!"

Alicent, her eyes blazing with fury, stepped forward, her voice ringing out. "It should be my son telling the tale! Look at what they've done to him!"

Viserys, his face a mask of anger and desperation, banged his cane on the floor, his voice booming, "Enough! Silence, all of you!"

The room fell into a tense, uneasy silence. Aegon clung to Vaella, who looked around the room with desperation. Helaena stood nearby, looking lost and bewildered, her usual serene detachment shattered by the chaos. Vaella noticed that Laenor was absent and her sister Rhaenyra had entered earlier with Daemon, his presence a silent threat to anyone who might harm her sons.

Rhaenyra, her voice trembling with controlled fury, said, "It was my sons who were attacked. Heavy insults were levied against them."

Alicent scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "How does an insult justify my son losing an eye?"

Viserys turned to Alicent, ignoring her outburst, and asked, "What insults?" His voice was calm but laced with barely restrained fury.

Luke, his voice barely above a whisper, said, "He called us bastards."

A heavy silence descended upon the room. The weight of the accusation hung in the air, everyone feeling its implications. Rhaenyra stepped forward, her voice strong and clear. "I am the heir to the throne, and to question the birth of my sons is the highest treason."

Viserys turned to Aemond, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and anger. "Look at me, Aemond," he commanded. "Who told you these lies?"

Vaella noticed Aemond's gaze shift briefly to Alicent before he quickly averted it. "It was Aegon," Aemond said, his voice steady but his eye betraying his fear.

Vaella stiffened, her heart pounding. Aegon lifted his head from Vaella's embrace, his face a mask of confusion. "Me?" he asked, his voice incredulous.

Viserys quickly turned his attention to Aegon, who still clung to Vaella. "Why do you spread such lies about your nephews?" he demanded, his voice filled with disappointment and anger.

Aegon looked at his mother, then at his brother, and finally at his father. "Everyone knows," he said, his voice low and resigned. "Just look at them."

Vaella's grip on Aegon's hand tightened. The truth was undeniable and dangerous, a reality that could destroy Rhaenyra's claim to the throne. Vaella hung her head, unable to defend her sister. It was all up to their father now.

A long silence filled the room, everyone waiting for Viserys's response. The tension was visible, the future of their family hanging in the balance. Viserys, his face lined with pain and sorrow, finally spoke. "This fighting must stop," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "If not for my sake, then for the sake of this old man, who loves you all so much."

The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, the silence deep and oppressive. Vaella felt the tension in Aegon's body, the fear and uncertainty that mirrored her own. They could only wait and hope that their father would find a way to hold their fractured family together.

Alicent's eyes blazed with fury, her voice trembling as she spoke. "That's insufficient!" she declared, her anger boiling over.

Viserys, his desperation evident, asked, "What would you have me do, Alicent? Children fight."

Vaella could see Alicent's rage reaching a dangerous peak. "I demand an eye for an eye," Alicent said, her voice cold and merciless. "I want an eye from one of Rhaenyra's children in return."

The room erupted in shocked gasps as Rhaenyra quickly moved to shield her children. Alicent turned to Ser Criston Cole, her voice a command. "Bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon."

Ser Criston, his expression conflicted, shook his head. "I am sworn to protect you, Your Grace, not to carry out vengeance."

Viserys, his face contorted with a mix of anger and sorrow, hissed at Alicent. "This matter is closed, Alicent."

Vaella watched in horror as the scene unfolded before her, almost as if she were in a dream. She saw Alicent's eyes narrow in determination as she grabbed Viserys' dagger from his belt as he turned away. With a cry of rage, Alicent rushed towards Rhaenyra's sons. Everyone in the room backed up in shock, and Vaella screamed her sister's name, her voice piercing the chaos. "Rhaenyra!"

Aegon's grip on Vaella tightened, his own fear palpable. Rhaenyra, reacting quickly, blocked the dagger with her hand, the blade drawing blood as she halted Alicent's advance. Otto yelled for his daughter to stop, but Alicent continued, her eyes wild with fury.

Rhaenyra and Alicent faced each other, the dagger between them, their faces inches apart. A tense silence fell over the room as everyone held their breath. "You would destroy this family for your pride," Rhaenyra hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

Alicent's eyes were filled with tears of rage and frustration. "And you would see it torn apart for your lies," she retorted, her voice shaking.

Suddenly, Alicent pulled the dagger back, slashing Rhaenyra's arm. The blade clattered to the floor as Rhaenyra clutched her bleeding arm, her face a mask of pain.

Aemond, who had been silent until now, spoke up, his voice steady and resolute. "Do not mourn for me, Mother," he said, turning to Alicent. "It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon."

The room fell silent once more, Aemond's words hanging in the air. The weight of his sacrifice and the implications of his gain settled over everyone present. Vaella felt a mix of fear, sorrow, and a strange sense of admiration for her half-brother's resilience.

…

As the chaos in the throne room began to settle down, Vaella slowly let go of Aegon, who called softly after her, "Vaella, don't go."

But she gave him a reassuring squeeze before stepping away. "I need to check on Rhaenyra," she whispered, her eyes filled with concern. Aegon nodded reluctantly, watching her go.

Vaella moved through the crowd, her heart pounding. She found Rhaenyra surrounded by their family, with the Maester already working on her wound. Rhaenyra winced as the Maester cleaned and dressed the cut on her arm. Vaella knelt beside her sister, gently touching her shoulder.

"Rhaenyra, are you all right?" Vaella asked, her voice filled with worry.

Rhaenyra managed a strained smile, her eyes softening at the sight of her sister. "I'll be fine, Vaella. It's just a scratch."

Vaella stayed with her until the Maester finished his work, offering quiet words of comfort. Once Rhaenyra's wound was tended to, Vaella turned her attention to Aemond, who had moved to stand closer to Aegon. She approached him cautiously, her heart aching at the sight of his injury.

"Aemond," she said softly, "does it hurt?"

Aemond, trying to put on a brave face, shook his head. "It doesn't anymore," he replied, his voice steady.

Vaella smiled gently, her admiration for his strength evident. "Congratulations on claiming Vhagar," she said, her tone sincere.

Aemond nodded, a flicker of pride in his remaining eye. "Thank you," he said softly. "Rhaena told me I stole her mother's dragon."

Vaella frowned slightly, shaking her head. "Dragons can't be stolen, Aemond. They choose their riders."

Aemond's lips curled into a small smile. "I know. I hope you get a dragon soon, too, Vaella."

She returned his smile, feeling a warm sense of connection with her younger brother. "I'm content for now, Aemond," she said, her voice gentle.

Aegon, who had been watching the exchange, stepped forward and placed a hand on Vaella's shoulder. "Can we go back to bed now?" he asked, his voice laced with fatigue and longing.

Vaella nodded, giving Aemond one last reassuring smile. "We'll talk more later," she said softly.

As Vaella and Aegon turned to leave, she exchanged a final look with Alicent. The Queen's eyes were filled with a complex mixture of emotions—pain, regret, and a touch of resignation. Vaella held her gaze for a moment, silently acknowledging the unspoken understanding between them. Then she turned and walked away with Aegon, their footsteps echoing through the now silent throne room.

As they made their way back to their chambers, Aegon leaned into Vaella, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice filled with gratitude and exhaustion.

"For what?" Vaella asked, glancing up at him.

"For being here. For always being here," Aegon replied, his eyes softening.

Vaella smiled, resting her head against his shoulder. "Always, Aegon."

They reached their chambers, the tension of the night's events still hanging heavily over them. But as they settled back into the familiar comfort of each other's presence, a sense of peace began to wash over them. The world outside their small sanctuary was filled with turmoil and uncertainty, but in this moment, they had each other.

As they lay down, Aegon pulled Vaella close, his arms wrapped protectively around her. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity.

Vaella looked up at him, her indigo eyes meeting his violet ones. "You'll never have to find out," she replied softly. Aegon sighed, his tension slowly melting away.

They closed their eyes, the warmth of their bond shielding them from the harsh realities of their world. And that, for them, was enough.

[sol-kha-ne-lubri-if]

Sol-kha-ne-Lubri

Rational is to Irrational as Irrational is to Rational. Then again, in this land, Rational is to Rational as Irrational is to Irrational, and Positives are to Negative as Negative is to Compromise; This ways are that ways, one ways are other ways. This way, that, here, over there, which way is true and what way leads fair?

Your home land is odd– a rarity, that much is a given, but even in a land of all that is odd and irregular, that doesn’t stop unhidden exclusivity in the form of a certain acceptance letter for which you had been ridden.

Welcome to Sol Kha-ne Lubris, even the richest royal families couldn’t pay their way into these academy walls.

There are two sides to every coin, parallel lines that are never meant to meet. But since when have the dreamscapes every been one to abide by those rules?

You play as... You, or-- well, more accurately, you play as the ever-fantastic you, a regular in a realm of oddity and circumstance, a wonderful, enigmatic you who has just been offered acceptance into the most prestigious magical academy in the dreamscape.

And as you... You guide yourself, both physically and mentally, though the halls of this new school, making allies and (possibly) starring in a very casual(?) school romance with the next generation’s elite.

۞ Play as a being of your choice, whether male, female, neither and all, no one would dare step on your shoes without being respectful of how you are called.

۞ Have your ancestry come from a land of riches, or a land of the cymbal waeves? the Victorian ages or the age of industrialism? Whether you live in a forest, a mountain, the skies or the oceans, the academy’s exclusivity is not limited to where your birth is.

۞ Care you for dolls? For stars? For royal romances? a group of 6 students are susceptible no matter how you play your advances. 

۞ Do you excel in history and language, or the art of alchemy, or physical prowess. The academy accommodates all sorts of knowledge, so no need to fret. Should you excel in none of them, then how strange that your acceptance had been granted without need for background process… 

۞ Dreamers are those who walk through your lands and think of it all as fantastical. However, one familiar dreamer in particular seems quite lost. Do you truly care for them as an equal despite your otherworldly hailing, or will you show that keeping them alive comes at a hefty cost?

ღ Dottie Hendrix, The Almighty: Entitled, egotistical, and ethereal, Dottie is the top dog at this school with the intelligence to back it up. For your sake, you best hope she finds you fun to keep her company. 

ღ Ambrose Hendrix, The Lapdog: Loyal to one and only one. He isn’t afraid to use whatever means possible to ensure the safety of his allegiance, even if it means using his siblings and cousins.

ღ Loriette Kei, The Cheshire Cat: A mercenary in their own right, they work from the shadows that share the same color as their primary source power, eyes always watching, smile never waning.

ღ Lorelei Kei, The Plague Doctor: Keeping her eyes downcast but ears sharp and senses keen, they seem to have the answer for any ail that may befall you, but do you dare keep your eyes open during her procedure?

ღ Nadia, Half a whole kingdom: Birds of a feather flock together, one half of a whole. The supposed “naughty” to the “nice”, be as kind to him as you want, she has their own standards on who keeps her graces.

ღ Noré, Half a whole government: Birds of a feather flock together, one half of a whole. The supposed “nice” to the “naughty”, but is he good enough to keep in your circle of trustees?

⚜⚜ ☾ ⚜⚜ ☾ ⚜⚜ ♔ ⚜⚜ ☽ ⚜⚜ ☽ ⚜⚜

DEMO https://dashingdon.com/go/13924

[cmdrfupa]

Felicity #2

Second chances were for regular people. Fourth chances were designed specifically for Toji. A chance meeting of having the same mark turned into a whirlwind romance and now here he was settled into the calm monotony of fatherhood and marriage. The worst has already happened so it can only go up from here, right?

~~please refer to *this* post for potential content warning~~

SAHD!Toji x fem!reader

wc: 2.2k

“Lady. I have two children with me. Do you have not an ounce of shame?”

“I don’t discriminate. I think it’s hot seeing such an active father.”

Toji sucked his teeth. The baby was strapped to his chest, cooing while Megumi stared at yet another woman hitting on his father.

“Ma’am. I have a stepmom. My dad is trying to be nice.” stepping in front of his father, the tall teen gave a somewhat polite nod before reaching for the box of infant cookies.

“Dad, she’s been eating this brand. Maybe we should get a new flavor.”

The woman stood there, unwilling to accept the truth.

“Stepmother shouldn’t have you here picking up groceries with your father.” She looks back up to Toji, the thinning patience evident in his eyes. “Could always show you what a wife is supposed to do.”

Toji looks at the box Megumi holds before tossing it in the buggy. “Lady. You have 3 seconds to turn around and get out of my face before I call my wife. She will mop the floor with your tears. So, please.”

“Mah!” The baby smiled, grabbing her father’s face as he lowered his brow, gently kissing the infant's palm.

Now concerned, the woman walked past the trio, Megumi shaking his head as he pushed the cart.

“I’m not coming with you next time unless you wear a looser T-shirt. These run-ins are exhausting..”

“I know. But your help is appreciated. Tsumiki used to love coming to the grocery store with me.” Toji proceeded to cross something off the list, walking next to Megumi.

“Yeah, well, she’s off at uni, and I’m tired. So, can we wrap this up soon? I made plans with Itadori.”

Toji smiled, ruffling the boy's hair before throwing more necessities into the buggy.

“Go ahead and grab those ginger cookies you like, and meet me at the register.” Toji watched his look-alike walk off. “I’m gonna crack your big brother’s hard shell one of these days. Isn’t that right, Emiko?” The chubby-faced baby showed her gummy smile, leaning in to gnaw on Toji’s shirt.

Toji took on the role of stay-at-home Dad much easier than you expected. However, it took more time to convince Shiu, a man who wanted no acquaintanceship initially, that it was the right decision.

(almost 2 years ago)

“Fushiguro, what the hell do you mean she wants to expand the family? They haven’t brought it up to me!” Shiu lit another cigarette before finishing the one between his lips. “You can still do that?”

“Ouch, Kong. I thought we were friends.” Toji sat back on the leather couch, smiling as the new contract envelope sat on the table before him. “Megumi has brought up wanting a sibling. And the missus isn't against it. We've been together for 6 years, and I’m not getting younger.”

“Toji, I can't lose both my top hirelings because you fell in love and now trying to populate the city with a litter of kids. Just get this last one under your belt, and I’ll make sure to wipe your slate clean. Nothing leading back to you or your past, I promise.”

Curious, Toji opened the envelope, reading over the contents until something specifically grabbed his attention. “Haru Zenin? Shiu, what the hell is this.”

“They want to hire you. Simple.” The death stare Toji gave him pushed him to say more. “Not you in particular. They don't know it's you. They just want the best, so they came to me, not knowing that one of the best is their blood. Wild coincidence, right?”

He read the contract. The rival family attacked the child of Haru Zenin, who was his cousin. They wanted to retaliate. In reality, they just wanted to end the issue if they went the route of an assassin.

“I'm not doing it. I've got way too much to lose now. Especially with having Megumi back home full-time with us. Give it to my wife.”

“That's not how this works. You won't be compromised and there isn't a time frame-”

Toji hugged Shiu, holding his shoulders and proceeding to flick the cigarette from his mouth.

“I'm cooking smoked duck curry and cheese tteokbokki tonight. Megs has been asking about his uncle, and we'd love to have you there, yeah?”

Toji sat with a face of defeat, Emiko wailing in her high chair after tossing another spoonful of mashed cauliflower on the floor.

“Oh, sweetpea. Come on. Just one little spoon for Dada? See how tasty it is to me?” Reluctantly, Toji put the now cold mush in his mouth, fighting off the immediate recoil of disgust. “Mmm… so so good,” he coughed down a gag, shivering after he swallowed. Emiko laughed. The sound of her sweet giggle helped ease the tension on his shoulders. “Okay, sweet girl. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Gentleness wasn't lost on Toji. Years of killing didn't make him an insensitive monster. But being here every moment with his baby girl was altering his brain. He was actively involved in how she was being raised, choosing outfits, handling every diaper, and even implementing tummy time with the sensory toys he found, thanks to Pinterest. He was fully embracing this new chapter. However, the chapter included being a father to a teen who spoke 13 words maximum. Toji was willing to work with it.

Megumi would die if his dad knew he appreciated the effort he'd been putting in. Making sure Megumi had his own room for when he was home, letting him be a big brother, and doing family things together. Toji had become the father Megumi both wanted and needed, even before baby Emiko. He knew you were a big part of the dramatic change and it meant he should probably try to show his appreciation outwardly. So he offered to help Toji while he was home from school.

“Want me to clean the kitchen?” Megumi stood in the doorway of the bathroom.

“Yea, that’d be great. Thanks, Megs.”

“K.” Toji watched as Megumi walked back to the kitchen before turning his attention back to the infant.

“I told Mama about these long trips. We miss her a lot, don't we.” he began to tenderly bathe the baby. The shallow water swayed over her chubby legs. “But Mama is tough and so are you. She'll be home soon. Til then, you've got the old man and big brother.” the burbly infant smiled as the soapy suds disappeared from her hands.

Wasn't long before Megumi was done. The dishes dried and put away, the floor was spotless and the baby's highchair was disassembled, disinfected, and put back together. He mosied back to his room but stopped at the sound of a familiar snore. “Old man. ‘Tch” Toji sat snoring with the baby on his chest in the rocking chair. The baby wasn't sleeping, just accepting her fate as her father at least got her dressed for bed.

“Oi. Come on Emi. Lets get you a bottle.” Megumi gently cradled the baby to his chest, walking with a bounce as he grabbed a bottle from the fridge and sat it in the bottle warner.

“You know, Dad's doing his best.” he held the nipple of the warm bottle of milk to the baby's mouth before she took it immediately. “He is trying and even Uncle Gojo is shocked. Mom.. she's gonna be back to us soon.”

The curly dark hair of the baby brought a fond smile to Megumi’s face. “You look like me when I was a baby. Minus the curls. And the smile.” her lids began to slowly close as her grip on the bottle loosened.

Megumi had seen you burp the baby and figured that would be the next step. “Okay. I've seen mom do this. Uh. So I'll just sit you here, hold you up here, aaaaand” After a few moments of light back pats, 2 healthy belches come out. “Nice.” Emiko clings back to Megumi, holding onto the neck of his shirt as she closes her eyes.

Toji watched from the doorway, watching his only son display the most emotion he'd ever seen him exhibit. This was your doing. Making him an in-shape father. Fit for trying and doing. ’Did he just call you Mom? Oh fuck.’

“You alright kid? Want me to get her to bed?” Megumi looked over as Toji approached.

“It's cool, I can lay her down.” He stood carefully, holding the baby’s head and back as he rose. “And you were sleeping. Figured I could feed her seeing how tired you were.”

“Megs. Thank you.”

“You already said that.”

“Yeah but, not just just helping with the baby. But for um, everything..”

Megumi sucked in a breath. “I know. And thank-you. For everything.”

“Of course. Anytime. Anything.”

“Cool.”

Megumi walked past Toji to the baby's room, lying her down and turning on the night light before heading back to the living room.

“Dad. Can we talk?”

Toji walked to the kitchen, baby bottle in hand as he went to clean it in the sink.

“Yea. Everything good? What's up?”

“How can you tell if someone likes you?”

Baffled, Toji grabbed the scrub daddy and cleaned the few dishes in the sink. “Like… Likes you like you?”

“What the hell do two likes mean?” jumping up, Megumi sat on the counter. “I guess yes. Likes me likes me. We’re always hanging out and doing stuff together… But the vibe feels different than just friends.”

Internally, Toji was having the freakout every mother would have about their baby growing up. His only son, came to him, about dating and girls. *‘I'm definitely rubbing this in Satoru's face’*

“Whose the person? Is it the Kugisaki girl? She's always around you and that Itadori kid.” Toji leaned up against the island counter.

Megumi cleared his throat before shaking his head. “No… not her.”

“Well you only hangout with those two so if it isn't her then is there another girl-” drying his hands, he glances at his long haired double. A gentle smile found itself sprouting on his face. “Do you like him back?”

There was a hesitant, gentle nod from Megumi that gave Toji his answer. A moment of silence fell over the kitchen as Toji tried to give Megumi space to do this how he wanted.

“Is that okay? To like him like this?”

“Of course. I want you to be happy. And if the pink haired kid who eats all the Taiyaki when he's over is who you have interest in.. I'm all for it.” He went to stand next to his son, throwing the dish rag over his shoulder. “Now. I think you should invite him over for dinner sometime.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I can grill em. Gotta make sure he's good enough for my kid. I’ll race him then we can have a strong man challenge.”

With a heavy sigh and roll of the eyes, Megumi hopped off the counter mumbling as he made his way to his room.

“Love you too Megs!”

Reunited At Last

You'd finally returned from your mission after three weeks of travel and minimal contact home.

After a week back of catching up and enjoying time with the kids, date night rolled around. Gojo graciously took Emiko while you and Toji spent time in one of Gojos’ penthouses.

“So you mean to tell me, I missed all of that?” A small bit of fomo settled as Toji shared the big and small strides made in your absence. But you relished knowing how amazingly your partner handled everything. “You weren't too much with Megs, were you? Coming out can be profound, even for someone so reserved.”

“Mama. Of course not. It just felt really good to have him trust me in that way.” Toji laid his head on your chest, his large frame providing a blanket of comfort as you ran your fingers through his silky hair.

“You’ve been doing remarkable as a dad. Megumi sees the effort and I think you should be proud of yourself.”

Years of not-so-great fatherly actions would beg to differ, and those moments crept back. Toji sat up on his elbow, the silk sheet shifting, now bunching up over his waist as he looked down at your face.

As the moonlight filters into the bedroom, it casts a soft, silvery glow over the room. The curtains softly dance in the gentle breeze, sheets tousled and wrinkled, a testament to the intimacy shared just a few moments prior. Your angelic face brought him out of the doubt that attempted to take over a sweet moment. You were his saving grace.

“I wouldn't be this remarkable without you.”

“‘Tch. I just added a little refinement. You were getting your shit together when we met.”

“Barely. I got it all the way together when you told me you'd walk away from me after backsliding and seeing how pissed megs was when you went back to your place for a week.”

“I don't know. Sounds like you're whipped to me.”

“Yeah. No shit baby.” Sliding his arms around you, Toji pulled you on top of him, skimming his fingers over the curvature of your dimpled hips as you settled into his embrace. “Im a fucking simp.”

“Oh my God. Simp?? You are too old to say that shit old man.”

“You're literally only 4 years younger than me. Shut the hell up, respectfully.”

Tired giggles filled the room as you nestled into his familiar embrace. Another night of rest and contentment.

Life gave another chance.

Thank you @/saradika-graphics for the lovely dividers!

thank you for reading <3

[gimmethatagustd]

venor (final) | kth + jjk

The barista at the university’s café keeps telling Jungkook not to come back, but Jungkook is too busy daydreaming about kissing the beauty marks on his face to be paying attention to his warnings.

○ Pairing: Tiger!Taehyung x Bunny!Jungkook

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Hybrids, predator/prey, college au, strangers to lovers, slow burn, fluff, light angst, eventual smut

○ Word Count: 5,064

○ Warnings: Scenting, lots of kissing and happy crying, gross cute romance and all that other annoying stuff

○ Notes: It's the end of an era, my friends. I promised a Bestie Who Must Not Be Named that I'd write an epilogue, so technically this series isn't 100% over. I hope you had fun with it! And thank you to everyone who was so kind to me as we went on this unique little journey together 💜

○ Post Date: April 21, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Cross-Post

○ What was Jai listening to? The series playlist

Series Masterlist

Jungkook and Taehyung wait until they finish their final projects and exams before visiting Taehyung's family home. As much as a getaway trip, no matter how short or ordinary, would help alleviate Jungkook's end-of-the-year stress, his commitment to his studies, and his fear of disappointing his parents force him to focus on his studies. Exercising helps, especially when he convinces Taehyung and Yoongi to tag along, but most days near the end of the semester, Jungkook spends in the library or in class. 

When Jungkook submits the last project due, the mobile app he spent the whole semester designing, he feels like his brain dribbles out of his ears. With final presentations and exams now over, they have the freedom to do as they please in the last few days before they must leave the dorms for winter break. He's lucky he doesn't have to drive to Taehyung's house, even though it's a short trip. 

"Jiae is still in school, but my appa should be home," Taehyung explains, keeping his eyes on the road as he drives.

"Where did you say she's studying?" 

"New York University. I've never been to the United States, but she likes it for the most part. She said the city is dirty, though." 

Jungkook watches Taehyung smile as he shares a story about his sister's first time seeing a rat scurry across the city streets. Without a sibling, Jungkook doesn't know what it's like to share a life with someone for so long and then be separated by so much distance. There's love in how Taehyung talks about Jiae; Jungkook can feel it. Taehyung also experiences a little bit of joy in knowing his sister has been chased by rats, and Jungkook supposes that's just how it is being an older sibling. 

When school isn’t in session, Taehyung stays with Jiae and their father in the home where the children grew up. It’s a small villa in a quiet neighborhood far enough away from downtown Seoul that Jungkook almost feels like he’s back in his own town, free from the bustling city and the hassles that come with it. The villa is well-maintained but modest and home to four families, with the Kim family occupying one of the apartment units on the second floor. The building is cute from the outside, not as big and intimidating as the apartments Jungkook imagined in the city, and a few of the nerves jittering through his body calm down.

Taehyung finds street parking nearby so they don’t need to walk far in the cold. Just like the end of the semester, winter descended on Jungkook quicker than he expected.

In the villa’s compact front yard, a few young children bundled up in thick coats, scratchy scarves, and winter hats too big for their heads build miniature snowmen. Feline tails whip out from two of their coats, and another child has sparkly olive scale splotches on his cheeks like freckles.

“Taehyungie hyung!” squeals one of the children when Taehyung leads Jungkook up the front steps.

Once the other two children notice Taehyung, they fumble in the snow, knees lifting high to jump over the lumps of snow they’ve pushed together. They’re adorable, even more so when the three crash into Taehyung, clinging to his legs and tugging on his gloved hands.

“Hey kids,” Taehyung pats each child on the head with the hand that isn’t being pulled nearly to the ground by one girl.

“When is Jiae noona coming back?” the little boy demands, making Taehyung frown.

“I come home for the first time in months, and you want my sister instead?”

“We missed you too, oppa,” one of the girls insists with wide eyes that remind Jungkook of how he looks when he���s trying to get someone on his good side. He can’t help but giggle over it, and the sound alerts the children to the fact that he’s there, patiently waiting on the front steps behind Taehyung.

“Hello,” the little girl hanging on Taehyung’s arm swings her body around to look at Jungkook. “Who are you?”

“That’s my boyfriend, your Jungkook oppa.”

“You have a boyfriend, Taehyungie oppa? Did your appa say that you can have a boyfriend?”

With his hands on his hips, Jungkook turns to Taehyung, giving him an expectant look that mirrors the three children's expressions. 

“Well, Tae, did your appa permit you to have a boyfriend?”

“Bun, not you, too,” Taehyung groans as he tries shaking off the children.

“Oh my gosh! He’s a bunny! Look at his ears!”

“Come on, guys. It’s cold.” Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s bicep and pulls him forward as the children rush to cling onto Jungkook instead.

Shouting over each other, the children demand that Jungkook remove his winter hat to show off more of his ears and demonstrate if he can jump really high. Their silly questions are endearing, but Jungkook’s nose is frozen, and he grows more nervous with each step he climbs to reach the villa’s front doors. 

“Go back to your snowman.” Taehyung shoos the kids away while he holds the door open for Jungkook. “You’ll see Jungkook later.”

“Bye hyungs, bye oppas!” the children call out, fumbling over each other to move out of the way when Taehyung tries to usher them from the door.

Despite Taehyung’s grumblings, his affection for the children is evident by how sweet and patient he is with them. Jungkook hasn’t thought much about children. He knows his parents expect grandchildren, especially since they only have Jungkook to provide them, but he always saw parenthood as a far-off concept not worth worrying about in his youth. Seeing Taehyung interact with the neighborhood children makes Jungkook consider that, perhaps, he could spend a little time thinking about it more than he has in the past…

“My appa did give me permission to have a boyfriend, by the way,” Taehyung says with a silly smile as he loops his arm through Jungkook’s to lead him down the hall once they’ve reached the second floor.

“Oh, good. What would we have done if he hadn’t?” Jungkook smiles, too, just as goofy.

“Break up, I guess?” Taehyung offers, laughing when Jungkook stops in the middle of the hallway to stomp his foot in frustration.

Taehyung is obviously joking; Jungkook can’t imagine him ever asking for permission to do anything, not that he’s the type of kid to go against his parents at every turn. Something tells Jungkook that Taehyung’s mother encouraged his free spirit rather than trying to stamp it down. Perhaps some of that has rubbed off on Jungkook, too.

“You didn’t even formally ask me out!” Jungkook complains.

Squeezing Jungkook’s bicep, Taehyung tugs on him gently. “I totally did!”

“When?!”

Taehyung removes his gloves to input the apartment unit’s code. His hat covers his ears, but Jungkook can tell that they twitch under it just as his tail flicks out to smack Jungkook on the thigh. He’s so cute that Jungkook thinks he might genuinely die over it one day. How can he possibly withstand this type of cute aggression for the rest of his life? Because that is what he wants, to be with Taehyung until the end, even if it’s too early to say such a thing.

“I was nervous, okay,” Taehyung presses his shoulder against the door to give it a little push as he opens it. “Just saying it seemed easier than asking. Besides, I knew you wanted it, too.”

Winking, Taehyung gestures for Jungkook to enter the apartment first and grins when he notices Jungkook’s bright pink cheeks. Ridiculous. Taehyung is ridiculous. The only reason Jungkook is willing to let this slide is because Taehyung does get nervous when he’s put on the spot, as Jungkook quickly learned during their final presentation for their Art History class. Standing at the front of the lecture hall, Taehyung had forced his tail through his belt loops so it wouldn’t nervously swish back and forth and started off the presentation with wide eyes pleading for Jungkook to take the lead, but it went well.

The Kim residence reminds Jungkook of Taehyung’s dorm room and his father’s restaurant. It is bright and nature-toned, with plants in every corner and large windows providing natural lighting. It isn’t perfect, but it’s lived in, and Jungkook prefers that over something so minimalist that it’s sterile. Taehyung kicks his boots into the corner of the entryway and tosses his coat on the kitchen table as he walks past, meaning Jungkook should follow his lead.

“So it’s just you, your appa, and your sister?” Jungkook asks.

“Yup. It’s kind of small for three adults, but as a kid, it felt huge.” Taehyung shrugs. “We’ll both be out of the house soon, anyway.”

Jungkook folds his outerwear and neatly places it on the kitchen table, trying not to take up too much space. He’s hesitant about taking off his scarf. The bruise Taehyung left Jungkook when he bit his neck still hasn’t entirely disappeared, but Jungkook concludes that it would be more suspicious to keep his scarf on inside than to have splotchy skin.

“Your appa will be so lonely…” Jungkook looks around, taking note of the little pieces of Taehyung and Jiae scattered around the house — Taehyung’s pottery and Jiae’s soccer trophies. Recently, Jungkook has learned that both Kim children are exceptional athletes.

“Eh, he’ll be fine,” Taehyung says, intertwining Jungkook’s fingers with his. “I’ll give you a tour.”

It’s a bit of “organized chaos,” as Taehyung calls it. Clothes are strewn around the apartment, draped on the backs of the kitchen chairs and the arm of the living room couch. The whiteboard calendar on the fridge still reads “November” despite it being the beginning of December now, and there are kitchen appliances everywhere, including niche ones Jungkook can’t name.

“Appa is somewhere around here…” Taehyung thinks aloud, “Might be on the roof, though. There’s a garden up there. The one I told you about.”

Taehyung’s mother’s garden. Jungkook nods, but he doesn’t interrupt Taehyung as he shows off the chaotic apartment, even jiggling the doorknob of his sister’s room hard enough to force it open so they can take a peek at the disaster of boy band posters and too much pink.

“She’s such a girl,” Taehyung teases before ushering Jungkook down the hall to his bedroom. “At least she gets to keep her room, though. Appa turned mine into a fucking office.”

The last room on the short but thorough apartment tour is Taehyung’s, which is more like an office than a bedroom. It seems that Taehyung’s furniture—a bed, dresser, and nightstand—has been arranged in one corner to free up space for a desk, bookshelf, and filing cabinet that wouldn’t fit anywhere else in the apartment.

“Why does he need a filing cabinet? Who keeps paper documents anymore?” Taehyung shuts the bedroom door behind them.

When Taehyung turns around, Jungkook feels a shift in the energy between them. Having been uncharacteristically talkative, Taehyung suddenly grows quiet.

“You didn’t put your backpack down,” Taehyung notices with a frown.

Jungkook squeezes his backpack straps and shrugs, hoping Taehyung’s predator hybrid senses don’t ruin everything by noticing his nervousness. He’s trying to be chill, just as he tried when he first met Taehyung. It hadn’t worked then, and it probably won’t work now.

“I, um…” Panicking, Jungkook looks for a distraction, not ready to let Taehyung know why he still has his backpack with him. “Didn’t you say you wanted to give me something?”

Eyes widening, Taehyung rubs the back of his neck and averts his gaze. Why are the two of them being so awkward right now? It catches Jungkook off guard, making his chest tighten and his heart feel as though it’s being crushed by his ribcage.

“Tae—”

“Can you sit on the bed, please?”

Nodding, Jungkook sits on the edge of Taehyung’s bed, thinking Taehyung will follow him. Instead, Taehyung squats in front of the old wooden dresser. He pulls out the bottom drawer and looks through the clothing, no longer neatly folded, as he pushes it to the side. Whatever he’s looking for is buried deep in the back of the drawer beneath cable-knit sweaters and flannels.

“I wanted to keep it safe,” Taehyung mumbles once he pushes the drawer shut.

In Taehyung’s hand is a small pouch of blush velvet that matches the shade of pink blooming across Jungkook’s cheeks. Shy embarrassment makes his upper body feel hot. Though Jungkook was excited about the gift when he first learned of it, the reality of being presented with it is nearly too much for his little bunny heart to bear. With a frenzied heart, he takes the pouch from Taehyung, and his breathing stutters when their fingers brush, as though it’s the first time they’ve ever touched.

“I hope you like it,” Taehyung says softly, and Jungkook thinks he might explode.

Undoing the tie at the top of the pouch, Jungkook lets the contents inside slip out and fall into his hand. Rose gold and cold against his skin, the expensive bracelet shines in the natural light bathing Taehyung’s bedroom. It’s a simple gold band that comes together at the top of the wrist where the tiger-shaped clasp is. Decorated with sparkly white diamonds for eyes, the bracelet shimmers when Jungkook turns it to examine every little detail.

“It was my eomma’s. She didn’t wear it a lot, mostly just for fancy things. But she gave it to me when she… Well, she said I should keep it for someone special.”

“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook murmurs, too afraid to speak louder because he can already feel a lump growing in his throat.

Taehyung reaches out to take the bracelet. He turns it so Jungkook can see what’s engraved into the inner part of the bracelet.

“I found a jewelry shop that does engravings, so I got our names…” Taehyung’s face turns bright red, and his tail flips between his ankles faster than Jungkook has ever seen. “I don’t know if you noticed, but I’ve been… ah, fuck , why is this so hard.” He exhales through pursed lips, making a silly sound when his lips flutter. “I’ve been courting you, and I’m supposed to give you something really nice at the end to ask if you accept me, okay? That’s what I’m doing. So. Yeah. That’s all.”

Thrusting his arm, Taehyung holds the bracelet for Jungkook to take back.

Taehyung never formally asked Jungkook to date him, but Jungkook knows that this means something more than just a silly title for a young relationship. Although prey hybrids have different customs, it’s easy to see how important this moment is for Taehyung. He’s unbelievably agitated. Not once has his tail calmed down, and now his hands tremble enough for him to shove them into the back pockets of his jeans.

Conversely, Jungkook’s infatuation makes him burn with an eagerness he’s never felt. He can’t help but smile, even when Taehyung frowns, and it feels good because Jungkook knows Taehyung well enough that he can tell the frown is because Jungkook has yet to say anything. Does he accept Taehyung? What a silly question!

“Tae,” Jungkook begins and thinks he can genuinely feel Taehyung grow tense from how suffocating the room is, “I would have accepted you with just the striped donuts. This is… this is more than I could ever imagine, Tae. I accept you, but I don’t know if I can accept something so special to your eomma.”

Shaking his head, Taehyung sits down next to Jungkook. He takes Jungkook’s face in both hands to slowly rub his thumbs across his cheeks, gathering the tears that stain them.

“You’re special, bun. She would’ve loved you. Probably more than she loved me.”

“Shut up, that’s not true.”

“It is, I swear! I gave her so much grief. You’re literally perfect.”

Jungkook’s giggle sounds wet and stuffy. He shivers as Taehyung pulls him against his chest so he can tuck his face against Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Baby, why are you crying?”

Jungkook tries answering Taehyung, but his words get muffled and lost, and he can hardly put the scrambled mess together in his own head. It takes a few minutes, but he eventually stops crying. It helps that Taehyung eases the backpack straps off Jungkook’s shoulders so he can rub his back in soothing circles. He hums a gentle purr and plants little kisses atop Jungkook’s head until Jungkook finally pulls away to look at him with glossy eyes.

“You’re really sweet, Tae,” Jungkook says with a soft smile that grows larger when Taehyung tries to look away from him. “You want to act like you’re not, but you are.”

“I’m alright, I guess.”

“You’re lovely.”

Taehyung’s ears flatten against his head, and he sticks out his tongue, reaching for Jungkook’s hand to squeeze it.

“Can I put it on you?” Taehyung takes the bracelet and clasps it around Jungkook’s wrist. It fits well, not too tight, and it doesn't slip down his forearm.

Jungkook can’t stop thinking about how pretty it looks and how important it is for him to keep it nice. He’ll cherish it for the rest of his life. This gift is not only a declaration of Taehyung’s love but also demonstrates the level of trust that Taehyung has in Jungkook to keep his mother’s beloved possession safe.

Taehyung rubs his wrist against Jungkook’s, scenting him before he pulls back so they can both admire how the bracelet looks on Jungkook. A thick band of rose gold, it’s pretty but isn’t dainty, instead solid and bold. Jungkook knows he won’t wear it always; he’ll be afraid to. Perhaps he’ll wear it on the days he wants to feel Taehyung’s love the most, so his love can be a tangible pressure on his wrist, pressed to one of the points of his heartbeat.

“I love you,” Jungkook whispers against Taehyung’s lips when he kisses him. He loves hearing Taehyung purr when he unexpectedly initiates a kiss, and he loves feeling the warmth of Taehyung’s hands on his body.

“I love you too, bun,” Taehyung whispers back, but he speaks into the corner of Jungkook’s jaw, then nips at each faded hickey down his neck. “Are you gonna tell me what’s in your backpack now? Or do you wanna keep stalling? I could come up with some ideas…”

“Taehyung.” The scold doesn’t mean much when Jungkook digs his fingers in Taehyung’s hair to hold him close as he scents him.

“Come on, baby. What are you hiding from me?”

Of course, Taehyung sees right through Jungkook and catches on to what he’s doing. It should be embarrassing, but Jungkook is too drunk on the feeling of Taehyung’s lips against his throat to care that he’s the most obvious person in the history of the universe. It doesn’t matter anyway. Jungkook has no reason to lie or hide things from Taehyung.

Though this is at least a little bit serious — in a good way, but still…

“How do you know I’m hiding something?” Jungkook stalls just like Taehyung guessed he would, though not in the way Taehyung might want.

Rather than respond, Taehyung pokes Jungkook on the tip of his nose. Like Taehyung has hit a magic button, Jungkook immediately scrunches his nose and giggles when Taehyung kisses the tip of it.

“Suyun told me you were courting me,” Jungkook admits shyly as he drags his backpack into his lap and unzips it.

“Of course she did.”

Jungkook buzzes with excitement even as Taehyung pouts. He holds all wiggles in, though. He can’t afford to have Taehyung teasing him during such a brave moment. Instead, he focuses his energy on not growing too nervous.

“Close your eyes,” Jungkook commands. He stares blankly at Taehyung until he follows his instructions, unwilling to tolerate Taehyung’s cheekiness when it gets in the way of an important moment.

Once Taehyung has obeyed him, Jungkook pulls out a thin, rectangular frame from his backpack and places it in Taehyung’s lap.

“Okay, you can open them now.”

When Taehyung saw Jungkook’s half-finished portrait, he’d sucked Jungkook off so good that Jungkook allegedly passed out. Jungkook didn't want to make any assumptions, and he’s still nervous from being in Taehyung’s dad’s apartment, so he tried not to imagine what Taehyung’s reaction would be after seeing the finished product.

“I know it’s not as fancy or as special as your eomma’s bracelet, but—”

Jungkook quiets when Taehyung presses his finger to his lips and shushes him while his amber eyes scan over the artwork.

“Baby, respectfully, shut up.”

The snort that comes from Jungkook is uncharacteristic. It feels like a Yoongi thing Jungkook must have picked up in the months they’ve lived together. Taehyung pays him no mind, though. He holds the frame up to admire the print. It’s colorful, glossy, and perfectly matted because Jungkook asked one of the digital photography students at their university to help him with it. The girl knew Taehyung; she swore to keep the print a secret and didn’t even charge Jungkook for help. That might be a testament to how sweet Jungkook is, but it could also indicate just how personable Taehyung is, that people are willing to do kind things for him without anything in return.

“Bun,” Taehyung says after spending a quiet moment with the portrait, “Please don’t downplay yourself like that ever again. You are an amazing artist. Your talent, god, bun… your talent is unreal.”

Taehyung is almost too serious when he speaks, and Jungkook feels the looming need to scoot away from him. He doesn’t, though, because he knows this is Taehyung working through his intense feelings for Jungkook, feelings that his predator hybrid instincts don’t know what to do with. Neither Taehyung nor Jungkook is hardwired for a relationship like theirs.

“Thank you.” Jungkook runs his fingertips along Taehyung’s clenched jaw and watches the tension slowly melt away when he pulls back his sleeve to scent him. “Having a gorgeous model is half the battle, actually.”

Ignoring Jungkook’s teasing, Taehyung slides his hand around the back of Jungkook’s neck to pull him closer.

“I love you, bun.”

Jungkook can’t answer, though he doesn’t need to. His lips speak in other ways when Taehyung slips his tongue between them. Unlike before, their kiss isn’t heated or rushed. It’s sensual, but Jungkook is learning that all intimacy with Taehyung, sexual or not, is still somehow sensual. But this kiss feels comforting rather than rousing. It lulls Jungkook instead of stimulating him, and he likes the reassurance that it brings.

"Is this your final courting gift, too?" Taehyung asks once they've finally detached from each other. 

Jungkook blushes with a shy, "Yes." 

Months ago, Yoongi told Jungkook that pursuing a predator hybrid would break his heart. For the first time in his life, Jungkook feels like his heart finally has a home.

-

“Would you like me to speak with your parents, Jungkook?”

“Oh, no, no, that’s okay!” Jungkook politely but quickly shuts down Mr. Kim’s offer. “They’re, uh, they would probably be upset if they heard it from anyone other than me.”

With an understanding smile, Mr. Kim resumes cleaning the kitchen, though his endeavor must begin with decluttering, considering all the appliances and utensils tossed around. It’s the life of a chef and restaurant owner, Taehyung had groaned as he complained about how long it would take for them to eat dinner when his father had created a disaster in the kitchen.

Jungkook is eager to scramble out of the kitchen and return to his spot on the living room couch with Taehyung, bringing two bottles of beer given to him by Mr. Kim.

“What was appa talking to you about?” Taehyung asks, before opening his mouth for Jungkook to give him a sip of beer. He looks like a baby bird waiting to be fed, and it makes Jungkook giggle despite how his stomach twists with new nerves.

“He asked me if I told my parents I’m staying with you for winter break yet…”

“Well, have you?” Taehyung raises his eyebrows, but he keeps his eyes on the TV.

Jungkook feels like he needs to remind Taehyung to blink occasionally, but he doesn’t. This is Taehyung’s first time playing video games; Jungkook may as well let him get the authentic gamer experience by fucking up his eyes.

“No.”

“Bun,” Taehyung’s scolding is cut short by a string of expletives when his video game character is murdered.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that Taehyung would choose to play a game about a virus that turns humans into vampires and the human hunters dedicating their lives to slaying them. Violent video games aren’t Jungkook’s preference, but it certainly feeds into the stereotypes about predatory hybrids.

“I’m nervous about it…”

“What’s the worst thing that’ll happen? They’ll get upset, and then they’ll get over it. It’s not like you’ll never come back ever again.”

Taehyung is right, but he’s also wrong. Is Jungkook being dramatic? Perhaps, but he knows his parents better than everyone else, and he knows that they are sensitive.

“Let me talk to them. Do a video call so they can see how handsome I am, and they’ll know you made the right choice.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook takes a few more sips of his beer to take the edge off his nerves before he gets up, phone heavy in his hand like a weapon or a ball and chain.

“Pray for me,” Jungkook mumbles into Taehyung’s hair when he kisses him.

“Tell them I’ll eat them if they’re mean to you. I like how bunnies taste.”

“Oh my gosh, Taehyung, your appa is right there,” Jungkook whispers harshly, but Taehyung’s boxy grin is the symbol of audacity.

Jungkook uses Taehyung’s bedroom to make the phone call. It takes a few minutes of Jungkook biting at a hangnail before he randomly chooses his father to call, having no idea which of his parents will be the least likely to be upset over the news. Jungkook wonders if other college students must worry about having this conversation when they go away for breaks.

Before visiting the Kims, Jungkook tried to do a roleplay scenario with Suyun and Yoongi to see if that would help him plan what to say.

Yoongi was too scary to talk to; Jungkook kept slipping up. The more he talked, the worse it got, until he was practically sharing the whole story of his romance with Taehyung to justify why he was choosing to stay with a predator hybrid.

“Well, don’t tell them what he is!” is what Suyun had insisted.

“True… I don’t have to. It would be lying, though. I’m so bad at lying!”

“It’s not lying. It’s just withholding information. Totally different.” 

As usual, Jungkook thinks hanging out with predators changed Suyun — but probably for the better.

With a sigh, Jungkook sets his phone on speaker and lies on Taehyung’s bed, counting each ring and thinking that his heartbeat somehow harmonizes with it.

“Jungkook-ah?” 

“Oh, eomma, hi. Where’s appa?”

Jungkook doesn’t think it matters which one of his parents hears the news first, but he doesn’t like being caught off guard. Despite being proud of how much confidence he has gained and the personal growth he has experienced since transferring to Seoul, Jungkook still feels like a kid when around his parents.

“He went into town for groceries but forgot his phone again. I think I need to buy him one of those watches. Do you know the ones?” 

“A smartwatch?”

Despite their flaws, Jungkook loves his parents. It’s just that the love they all share for each other is different, and it isn’t always easy. Jungkook feels that love while his mother rambles about his father being forgetful, and he reminds himself that Taehyung is right. This isn’t the end of the world.

“Hey, eomma, I can’t talk for a long time right now, but I needed to tell you I have a boyfriend now…” Jungkook takes a deep breath and continues before his mother can respond, “And I’m going to stay with him and his family for winter break.”

The silence that follows is expected. Because of this, Jungkook hears the bedroom door open, and he nods when Taehyung asks for permission to come inside. He sits on the bed beside Jungkook, who is now lying on his stomach, and gently scratches the base of Jungkook’s ears.

“Oh. For the whole break?” 

“Mhm.”

“You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.” 

Jungkook cringes. “I know, eomma. I’m sorry.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem offended. He plays with Jungkook’s hair and ears and keeps quiet to let Jungkook think.

“Hmm, Jungkook-ah, I hope he is treating you well. Is he smart? What is he studying? What do his parents do for a living?” 

“Ah, please, don’t interrogate me!”

“I’m just asking simple questions every eomma should know.” 

“We can talk later, okay? I will call you, and we’ll talk with appa, too.”

One day, Jungkook will tell his parents more than the bare minimum details about the boy who holds his heart. For now, Jungkook tells his mother he loves her and tosses his phone off to the side once the call ends so the pretty tiger, who smells like summer rain, can shower him with sweet kisses until all of Jungkook’s worries are washed away.

“I can’t wait to meet them,” Taehyung purrs against Jungkook’s throat, where he kisses him. “How many times do you think I should visit with them before I ask them if I can marry you?”

“Stop it,” Jungkook whispers, though Taehyung can’t tell if Jungkook is scolding him for what he said about marriage or for how he’s got Jungkook flat on his back with his leg hiked up over his waist so he can grind their hips together.

Both? Either? Jungkook doesn’t know.

“Did you know Jackson can officiate weddings?” Taehyung asks with a slow roll of his hips. They’re both in jeans and sweaters; Taehyung just likes being a tease.

“Taehyung.”

“I heard sex feels different after you’re mated.”

“Taehyung. You’re so gross.”

Jungkook throws his arms over Taehyung’s shoulders and crushes him against his chest, ready to drown in the giggles he earns in response, giggles from a big, scary tiger who is utterly whipped for his bun. Who would have thought?

Series Masterlist

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie).

[commander-krios]

With Devotion And A Little Luck

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3 Pairing: f!Tav/Rolan Rating: Teen Summary: Rolan wasn't expecting a tiny bard with a penchant for wild magic to get under his skin in this way, but with a little luck, his devotion will be rewarded in kind. Words: 5002 Additional Tags: Tieflings, Romance, Love, Fluff, Pranks, Marriage Proposal, Post-Canon, Bard Tav

Read on AO3

The gathering was separated from the bustle of Baldur’s Gate, sequestered away in Ramazith’s Tower as they were. The company wasn’t awful, he supposed, taking a drink of wine from his goblet. This party was much better than the one at the Grove, for many reasons, but the main of them because Rolan was now archmage of Baldur’s Gate, master of his own tower, and safely within the city walls with his siblings, a new life opening up before him.

And it was all because of the irritating bard playing at the center of the party, the soft melody of her lute at odds with the swirling dance she attempted. She’d taken to keeping her hair down lately, the burgundy streaks more noticeable as the waves of her raven hair tumbled over her shoulders. Juniper was beautiful, free of a tadpole, her only responsibility to herself and those she deemed worthy of her attention.

Rolan was grateful to be one of them.

With a satisfied sigh, he walked the perimeter of the room, eyes sweeping across the other guests: her former companions, most of the surviving tiefling refugees (the children as well), Cal and Lia, and some of their allies were gathered, drinking and laughing and enjoying the very fact that they were alive and their enemies were not.

“You’re smiling more than usual.” Lia said from where she lurked, a mug of ale in her hands and the usual mischief on her face. 

“Be careful, Rolan.” Cal added from where he sat on a chair near their sister, his expression parroting hers. “You might scare the children.”

“Very funny.” He snapped, but his voice held no anger. It couldn’t when he was grinning like a fool. “You cannot deny we’ve been lucky in our endeavors.”

“It isn’t luck. Not when Juniper is involved. Luck laughs at her every time she tries something.” Lia waved to where the bard was starting a new tune, joined by Alfira’s lute and Shadowheart’s singing voice. Wyll spun Astarion briefly before dipping him, a grin curling the Blade’s lips as he righted them to standing, applause breaking out amongst the group.

Rolan turned back to Lia, ready to jump to Juni’s defense if he needed to. “That’s not-”

Cal raised an eyebrow and he paused, waiting for his brother to speak. “She attracts accidents like fruit attracts flies, but then you know that.”

“Let’s be fair to Rolan. He probably likes it.”

He opened his mouth, a retort on the tip of his tongue when a touch of the weave passed over him. A soothing presence, to be sure, and he didn’t even have to turn to know who had joined their circle.

“Ah, it’s wonderful to see you three in such high spirits.” Gale said, the smile on his face brighter than the dancing lights that Halsin was casting over the gathering. “How is life in the Tower?”

“It’s wonderful.” Lia gushed before taking a quick glance at Rolan, grin only widening. “We never get a moment’s silence thanks to this one.”

Gale raised an eyebrow, curious, and Rolan already felt his cheeks heat. “She’s being facetious. Nothing as untoward as she’s implying happens. Besides-” He glared at his sister with a pointed look. “She doesn’t live at the Tower any longer. Not since joining the Flaming Fist.”

“And I’ve never been happier.”

Ignoring Lia’s jab, Rolan motioned for Gale to follow him, away from the prying ears of his siblings and the rest of the guests. The rumble of chatter drifted around them, a comforting lull to the evening. Stepping away from the crowds, Rolan faced Juniper’s closest friend, wondering how he might approach the subject without the awkwardness that he knew was going to follow.

Clenching his hands into fists at his side, he took a deep breath before hissing it out between his teeth. Anxiety clenched at his chest, a fear that he didn’t realize he had coiling in his gut. “Gale, I want to propose marriage.”

The older wizard cocked an eyebrow, a shocked laugh escaping his mouth. “Well, this is certainly unexpected, for sure. While I am flattered, Rolan, I must regretfully decline.”

Rolan opened his mouth to speak, before shutting it close quickly, confusion morphing into horror. “What? No, not you! Whatever made you think such a thing. I meant Juniper.”

Gale chuckled, giving him a knowing look as he swiped a bottle of some fancy liquor from the table next to them. “I didn’t know your face could get any rosier, archwizard.”

Rolan huffed, running a hand over his face, mortified. He’d walked right into that one. “I think you are spending too much time with Juniper.”

“On the contrary, I do enjoy our afternoon teas.” Gale sipped his drink, barely able to hide the grin he wore. When he was finished, he pointedly glanced around the room at the people as they moved around and conversed with others. A crowd that rivaled any of the parties they’d had since the war had ended. “So what was your plan? To do it now, here, around all of these people? Don’t you think you might do this in a… quieter environment?”

The very thought of making a public spectacle out of something so personal, so private, was almost enough to make him combust on the spot. “I… not at this very moment! I am looking for advice on how to proceed with a proposal. I… well, I’ve never done one.”

“And you believe I have?” Gale asked, the amusement on his face at least letting Rolan feel comfort knowing that he hadn’t offended him. “I think you might have the wrong idea about me.”

Rolan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers, trying to regain control of the awful turn in their conversation. 

“Maybe you should consult Astarion, hmm? He might be better for planning elaborate things like this.” Gale’s eyes searched the people for the vampire. “I’m sure he’ll have some ideas. The bigger, the better.”

“No.” Rolan growled out, the idea that Astarion would help him instead of mocking him the entire time was beyond what he was willing to deal with. He cleared his throat awkwardly when Gale turned back, eyes widened in shock. With his voice under control, he repeated himself. “No. I would prefer it if Astarion was not involved.”

“Perhaps Shadowheart, then?”

That name brought up a different issue. Rolan winced, trying to hide it but knew Gale saw it when his gaze softened slightly. “I… doubt she’d want to help. It might be awkward for her.”

“How so?”

He didn’t know then? That was a surprise. Juniper wasn’t usually a secretive person. Rolan figured her fling with Shadowheart would’ve been obvious to those that spent time in camp with them, especially someone she was as close with as she was with Gale. When she’d told him about her feelings for Shadowheart, and Karlach, back when they were traveling together in the beginning… he’d had a mini breakdown over it.

“Shadowheart and Juniper… well, Juni mentioned the two of them were… close.”

Gale pondered his words momentarily before his eyes widened, realizing what Rolan was getting at. “Oh, I see what’s happened.” Gale poured a second glass of alcohol, handing it to Rolan without preamble. “You’re completely mistaken about the type of relationship they had.”

“But-”

“There was, at one point, a mutual attraction. They spent much of their time together in the beginning. Shadowheart, especially, felt a closeness to Juniper that she didn’t with the rest of our party.” Gale waited for him to take a sip of the drink, the alcohol burning his tongue before it set his throat on fire when he swallowed. Rolan hoped it helped him get through this conversation. “But- that all changed after the attack on the Grove.” Rolan met his gaze, finding it strange to see Gale watching him in interest. “Do you know why?”

“I’m certain you’ll tell me.”

“There was ample opportunity for her to choose a lover the night of the party. I remember it well. The way the attention was on her as she played her lute, chatted with the guests, drank more alcohol than her small form should’ve been able to handle. Shadowheart, Astarion, the Blade of Frontiers, our dear Karlach. I watched them all from where I sat by my tent, observing the festivities, watching them make fools of themselves because no matter how hard they tried, no matter how much flirting Halsin did or how much praise that Zevlor lavished on her, none of them had a chance.” Gale sighed, eyes far away as if he remembered that night as vividly as Rolan did. 

Things were making sense now, but he needed to hear it. He couldn’t find the words to respond, only stared at Gale as he returned his gaze to his face.

“Because she chose to spend the night in your presence.”

“I…” He didn’t deserve her affection at that time, not at all. Not with the way he’d treated her. “I was awful to her. Why did she-”

“You’ll never truly know unless you ask.”

He pondered Gale’s words a moment, weighing the truth of them. He was prepared to ask another question, probably one that would’ve embarrassed him no doubt, when something tugged on the sleeves of his robes.

“Master Rolan?” 

Glancing down, Rolan caught sight of Silfy… or was it Ide? Which one had the mass of curls piled atop their head? He honestly didn’t know all of their names, not like Juniper did, and he felt a flash of guilt. After everything they’d all been through, he really should’ve been making more of an effort to keep in touch with the other tieflings from Elturel. The children were especially vulnerable.

“Uh, yes? Did you need something?”

The child fidgeted, glancing at her feet and it took him a moment to recognize where he’d seen her. It was the same child he’d angrily (and drunkenly) yelled at during their stay at Last Light. More things for him to make up for, it seemed.

“Ide, right?”

She blinked at him owlishly, as if surprised he knew her name. Which, he supposed, was a shock since he too wasn’t sure if he knew it either. “Y-yes, sir.”

Rolan knelt so he could meet her gaze on her level, giving her the power when she’d had so little in her young life. He knew how awful it felt to not have control over what happened to you, to have to trust others for your safety. But she was safe, and despite how much of an ass he acted about it, he was proud to know that he helped her achieve that much. “Why don’t you tell me what you need and I’ll help you, alright?”

She eyed him warily, ochre eyes slanting suspiciously. “Why are you being so nice?”

Rolan flinched, but he supposed he deserved that. Stifling a sigh in his chest before it could escape, he glanced around the room, seeking the woman he knew would help him find the words that always failed him. Juniper stood across the room, leaving Alfira to continue the music while she, the Hero of Baldur’s Gate, chatted with some of the other guests. She must’ve felt his gaze because she glanced in his direction, a smile on her lips.

His heart skipped a beat, maybe even two, at the grin that was only for him. A grin that he got to see every morning when the dawn broke across the sky, and every night when the stars were sparkling like a thousand dancing lights. Whatever it was that Juniper saw in him, even months into their relationship, he still completely didn’t understand, but he was never going to regret a single second they were together. 

Rolan returned his gaze to Ide, trying to tame his own smile, if only to keep from scaring the child. “Because someone reminded me that kindness was important. And we can’t choose our pasts, but we can decide our futures.”

Ide smiled at him, reaching out to tug on his sleeve again. “Juniper is smart.”

Rolan snorted in amusement, but the child spoke the truth. At least, when it came to matters that didn’t require magic. He would never trust her with that ever again. “I’ll ask again, what did you need?”

“Oh, I wanted to do something for you.” Ide kicked her feet with her hands clutched behind her back, and for a brief moment, he swore he noticed the same type of mischief that Lia got in her eyes before she teased him. “Juniper let me braid her hair for the party and…”

She trailed off, raising her eyebrows as if she expected him to finish her thoughts. With a sigh, he took another glance in Juni’s direction, noting that she did indeed have an elaborate braid in her hair. The little hat with bells attached was also a newer acquisition, probably from Facemaker’s though Rolan didn’t know when she’d gone to get it.

He turned his attention back to Ide, watching as she smiled at him with a grin that made warning bells go off in his head. She was up to something, but with no proof, he’d only make an ass of himself if he started making accusations.

“Let me guess. You want to braid my hair as well?”

The child shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes as she responded. “It was Miss Juniper’s idea.”

He knew that was bullshit. Or at the very least, not the entire truth. While he didn’t doubt that Juniper helped Ide in whatever schemes she and the other children had concocted, Rolan remembered when he too had been a child, not all that long ago. Causing trouble was a perk of being small and presumably innocent of the world. Though, as a tiefling child, it is certainly more difficult to get away with even the smallest infractions.

And that was the purpose of this, he supposed. These children were orphans and Juniper was extending them a kindness, a place to belong, even for a fraction of a moment in time. It was more than he and his siblings ever got.

Stifling a sigh, Rolan let Ide lead him to a chair out of the way of the crowd. He sat, suspicion growing as she pulled up a stool behind him, climbing up with little trouble. She balanced on her knees, wobbling briefly, and Rolan feared that she might topple over and smash her head against the ground. But she steadied herself, putting her hands on the back of his chair. 

When she met his gaze, she raised an eyebrow. “Ya need to face the other way for this to work, yeah?”

The sigh slipped out this time. He tried to get comfortable, but nothing was significantly less comfortable than having a child in control of anything.

Ide pulled the band from his hair, combing her fingers between the strands, admiring the length. Or, at least, that’s what he assumed she was doing. “Ya always so damned uptight?”

“What did you-” Rolan tried to turn, but Ide pulled on his hair roughly, stopping him with a sudden stab of pain along his scalp. “Damn it, that hurts!”

“Stop movin’ then.” She muttered, twisting a tight braid along his hairline. “Ya makin’ my work hard.”

Rolan rolled his eyes, but did as he was told, letting the menace that masqueraded as a child continue to braid what was left of his hair after she’d yanked half out. The things he did for Juniper, even when she wasn’t the one who’d asked in the first place. 

It wasn’t long before he and Ide drew a small crowd…of more children.

“I can braid better than that.” One of the girls said, crossing her arms and turning up her nose at them. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail with cute little braids framing her face. Braids that were pretty, he supposed. “You aren’t making them tight enough.”

A boy, Rolan was pretty sure it was the one that swindled people while his sister pickpocketed (Matthis? Matty?) stood next to the girl with braids, tapping a finger to his chin. “Arabella has a point.”

“There’s only one way to settle this.” The girl, Arabella, pulled up her own chair, climbing up on the other side of Rolan without even asking. What in the nine hells were these children up to?

Rolan shifted away from Arabella, only to get his hair tugged painfully by Ide again.

“Ouch!”

“Sit still!” She scolded him like he was the child here. Once he settled again, she must’ve turned her attention to the other girl. “You're on. Stakes?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Arabella wave another tiefling child over, Mirkon if the wild mass of curls was any indication, whispering something in his ear before he disappeared. “Tightest braids with flowers weaved in. Mattis will judge. Winner gets the last sweet roll in the kitchen.”

Last sweet roll? Wait- 

“When did you go into the kitchens-”

“No usin’ your fancy magic.” Ide snapped, untangling the braid she’d been working on before the interruption. 

Laughter on the opposite side of the room caught his attention. Lia and Cal were watching the situation with the joy of two younger siblings witnessing the oldest’s torture. He flushed in irritation.

When he opened his mouth to snap at them, or the children, he wasn’t picky, the words stopped in his throat. His mouth flapped like a fish’s, no sound, not a single word uttered from it. Glancing at the little girl to his left, he saw the flash of a smirk before she blinked at him, eyes wide in childlike innocence. 

Did she… use Silence on him?

That little-

“Handy magic.” Mattis said from where he stood, watching the entire interaction with a shit-eating grin. “Maybe we could make use of it for…” He trailed off at the glare Rolan aimed in his direction. “Ah, we’ll talk about it later. Where there are less ears.”

Rolan tried to speak, to tell the little menace what he wanted to do with his ears, but nothing came out. With a disgruntled noise that couldn’t be heard either, he crossed his arms over his chest like a child and waited for the girls to finish their work. It wasn’t long before Mirkon returned with a handful of flowers from one of the vases.

He suffered for about twenty minutes as his hair was pulled, flowers were woven into the plaits, the scent tickling his nose. His scalp was on fire when they finished, leaving him sitting there with a frown on his face and a head full of braids.

“There!” Arabella exclaimed happily, jumping off of the stool to the giggling of the rest of the children. “What do you think, Mattis?”

The young boy approached, a claw to his chin as he studied their handiwork. “Hmmm.”

Zurgan, he could only imagine how he looked with the frippery in his hair and the ridiculous amount of braids he felt pressed against his scalp. And he still couldn’t speak. Despite having once been a child himself, he couldn’t imagine doing half the things these ones did. Zevlor was too soft on them and Juniper only made it worse.

“I'm calling it for Ide.” Mattis said with a grin, as if he liked it when Arabella glared at him incredulously. “Sorry, Bells.”

“I’ll ask him instead.” Arabella huffed, muttering an incantation to lift the spell. The tingling in his throat dissipated and he was left with a roughness in his vocal cords that he was sure would annoy him for the rest of the evening. Then she handed him a small oval mirror, small enough to carry in someone’s bag on their travels. “What do you say? Which braids are better?”

He glanced down at his mirror image, seeing his prominent nose and smattering of dark freckles, the dark scleras and fiery irises, the points of his teeth showing beneath his top lip. His dark hair was plaited on both sides, but the right was significantly looser, the flowers drooping where they were tied in. He remembered the last time he said a harsh word to Ide and lost his nerve. How could he be a critic to a child whom he’d hurt in the past?

Rolan was prepared to risk the ire of the little wizard in the making when he noticed the other decoration they’d put on him. 

Mittens. On his horns, fingerless ones that bent at awkward angles from where they hung. When had they done that? 

“What did you-”

The children broke off in laughter, scattering throughout the Tower in a rush, each in a different direction so they wouldn’t be found together.

With a huff, he stood, taking the mirror with him before he stopped suddenly, realizing he’d been watched. Juniper crossed the distance between them, struggling not to smile, but failing immediately when he glanced down at her, his face scrunched in irritation. His scalp throbbed painfully, the braids too tight, the flowers irritating his nose and he had to stifle a sneeze.

“Having fun?” She asked sweetly, hands behind her back as if she was innocent of any wrongdoing. It only made him suspect her more.

“You set me up, didn’t you?” He asked, even if he already knew the truth. Her smirk was enough of an answer for him. “Those children were not gentle.”

“Poor Rolan.” Juniper reached up to run a hand over his new braids, inspecting them thoroughly. A delighted sound left her throat, something close to a laugh. “They did an excellent job.”

“I’m sure they did. Even if they were clearly plotting something else the entire time.” He pointed at the mittens hanging haphazardly from his horns and the sight made a giggle burst from her. “This is your fault.”

“You don’t trust me when I say I had nothing to do with it?”

Rolan slid his hands against her waist, locking his fingers together at the small of her back before pulling her closer. His mouth brushed across her cheek, a soft kiss before he responded. “I trust you to save my life, but I also trust you to keep that same life from being boring.”

“Oh, believe me. You’ll never be bored with me around.”

Rolan glanced down at her clothing, taking in the low cut neckline, the flare of the gown down to her feet, the slit on one side that showed off her calf whenever she turned just so. It suited her as much as the stupid hat on her head did. 

“You are stunning.”

Juniper’s mouth curled, and he was prepared for her teasing before she even spoke. “The bells really do it for you, huh?”

She finished her question with a jingle of said bells.

A choked laugh left him. Moving closer, Rolan brought her flush against his body. “The one attached to the bells is the reason behind my affection, if you must know.”

She laughed, breathless, her fingers brushing against the back of his neck before disappearing into his braided hair. “Be careful or we’ll be giving the guests a different type of show.”

“Let them see if they wish to look.” Rolan rested his forehead against hers, uncaring about the guests or her friends or even his siblings when she was watching him with that cheeky expression. “They should know how lucky I am.”

She flushed. He could see it against her collarbone and up her neck, across her cheeks. She was more than stunning. The glow of the magical lights made her nearly ethereal, a goddess of song and dance and happy things. “You’re charming when you want to be.”

“I’m always charming.” Rolan shifted away, enough to offer an arm, a smile on his face when she stared at him. “Care to take a walk?”

She gazed at him with suspicion, raising an eyebrow when he didn’t explain. “What more could I need than good music, excellent wine, and the people I love?”

She was teasing him. Of course she was. It wasn’t Juniper if she wasn’t poking fun at him. “Perhaps a moment alone with your favorite wizard?”

She studied him briefly, trying to discern the real reason from expression alone. He met her eyes with a lazy smirk, only for a laugh to escape her. Instead of taking his arm, she slipped her hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “What makes you think Gale isn’t my favorite?”

“I won’t dignify that with a response.” 

She laughed again, as melodic as her singing, and all feigned anger about his hair faded. No matter how irritated he became, whether at her or someone else, all she had to do was laugh and he forgave everything. “I’m sorry, but your hair-”

“You can say it looks ridiculous. I’ve seen it.”

She snorted before covering her mouth as if she couldn’t believe the sound came from her. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” 

“I’m not, but I swear there was a reason.” Juniper moved closer to wrap her arms around him, laying her cheek against his chest, the gesture simple yet powerful. She trusted him beyond anything he’d ever expected and he wrapped his arms around her, feeling her warmth pressed against him.

Brushing his lips against the spot between her horns, he sighed, a quiet happy sound. “You always have your reasons, don’t you?”

She giggled, the laughter rumbling into his own chest, and he couldn’t stop from grinning. He truly didn’t care what the reasons were. Only that he got to hold her at the end of the day. 

“Well, you know how Alfira was overwhelmed with students at the school and I offered to take Mirkon on for her?”

Juniper’s bard training with Mirkon was unorthodox, but the child was learning many things from her, enough that Rolan agreed to let them practice in the Tower on the days he was tending the shop. But what did that have anything to do with this? 

“Yes.”

“And do you remember how my father took Mattis on to learn how to run a business? So that one day, he might take over the instrument shop? And Silfy, with Zevlor’s Hellraiser training.” 

Pieces were clicking in his brain, but he still couldn’t figure out the path they were taking. “And was it Arabella who you wished me to take on as an apprentice?”

He felt a flash of irritation at the use of silence on him. Even if he was so inclined on taking an apprentice, he might refuse now from a childish pettiness.

“No, that was Ide. She mentioned wanting to read and…” She paused, biting her lip. “It doesn't matter.”

Her hands moved up his back, tracing a path across his clothing and around to his chest, brushing his shoulders briefly until she reached his neck. Then she played with the hair that freely hung around his shoulders. The easy touch of her fingers as they unraveled the braids almost made him shiver, the gentleness with which she worked nearly undoing him immediately.

“I was wondering if they could become a more… permanent addition to the Tower?” She hadn’t looked at him with those fiery blue eyes, but he could hear the gears turning in her head. “I figured they were already practically family, why not make it true?”

When she tilted her head up, Rolan glanced at her lips, unkissed since this morning and a dangerous feeling took hold in his chest. He wanted this for the rest of his life. The teasing, the longing, the love. The half made plans and late mornings and laughter. And a family, one he could have without fear of not being worthy. Cal and Lia and a roost of rambunctious children. He wanted all of it with this frustratingly beautiful woman in his arms.

Even if those children would probably drive him to an early grave.

Leaning forward, he captured her mouth in a kiss that shook him down to his very bones. Her lips were soft, insistent as she kissed him back, her hands still gentle as she pulled him closer. He couldn’t name every feeling swirling in him, but as soon as Juniper broke away and continued to undo the braids in his hair, he knew what he wanted.

For the first time in his entire life, he wasn’t second guessing himself.

“Marry me.”

She paused in her work, eyes wide and unblinking, fingers still against the braids still in his hair.

“We can work out the details later, the Tower, the children, the future.” Rolan promised her, forehead touching hers as he forced her to meet his gaze. She was still in shock, mouth hanging partially open. “But I want it all. With you. So I’m asking you to be my wife, Juniper.”

A laugh left her in a breathless gasp, mouth curling in a smile that he would work like hell to see every single day. “You do realize what you’re getting into, yes?”

Squeezing her sides, he pressed a kiss to her nose, a soft touch that pulled a quiet noise from her. “You’ll drive me mad every day with your incapable magical skills. Your penchant for chaos is second only to the kindness in your heart. I… do not deserve your devotion, but I’m asking for it. Please, marry me.”

Juniper laughed again, louder and slightly manic, but she finally met his gaze. And the only thing he saw reflected back at him was the same love he felt. “I promise I will drive you crazy for the rest of your life, Rolan. If you think you can handle that?”

A challenge that he’d gladly take. “Try your worst.”

Her mouth was on his again, arms squeezing him closer until he could barely breathe. And he couldn’t help, but to think that it was perfect.

[loveromeo1641]

Ok I JUST finished persona 5 so here's all my thoughts and ramblings because I NEED to put this somewhere (none of my friends have played the game and I'm going insane) (I also currently don't have any persona 5 moots so you know......)

Major spoilers (obviously)

I despise Kamoshida. They did a REALLY fucking good job of making him hateable. Like for me personally, all the other palace-owners aren't nearly as detestable as Kamoshida is. I feel like it's because we see Kamoshida's actions directly hurting people in a way that no other palace-owner is shown, if that makes sense. Like Madarame's actions do hurt Yusuke very directly but it's just not the same vibes. I really absolutely hate Kamoshida and I'm glad he got justice.

I love the original group of four. I do like all the characters that come after them and join the group, but those four have a special place in my heart. They're iconic.

I love Ann's story during the first palace and I feel terrible for her BUT it grosses me out how the creators continue to sexualize her (and other female characters) for laughs throughout the game. Like why the fuck did they think any of those scenes were they have to wear extremely minimal clothing was necessary. It's so fucking weird. You can't just write a character who's plot point is that she's forced into uncomfortable sexual situations, and then force her into uncomfortable sexual situations for a joke. It's not only not funny, it's fucking disgusting.

Speaking of which, can Ryuji and Morgana stop making weird comments or suggesting weird ideas? I get it's supposed to be funny, but it's just uncomfortable.

Yusuke is the gayest man I've ever seen good god.

I want to date men in the game, Atlus, come on. Stop being homophobic, let me date a man. Let me date Ryuji please

I love Futuba. She's like my younger sister and I would kill for her. Which made me really fucking grossed out when the romance started happening. Like what the fuck was that huh. I'm sorry, you can't just have Ren (I think that's he's name) and Futuba have a siblings relationship like the entire game (not to mention their basically step-siblings), and then all of a sudden turn it romantic.

Speaking of which, it's kinda weird that you can date your teacher and doctor (and the other adults). Like not shaming anyone for picking those options cause the doctors hot as hell, but why would a teacher think it's ok to date their student or a doctor date their underage client. There's nothing wrong with choosing them to date, especially if you (the player) are an adult, but it's still weird that like four different adult women want to date you.

I've seen this said before, but the middle palaces are kinda boring. The story pacing falls off after Madarame's palace. Again, I love Futuba, but Kaneshiro's, Futuba's, and Okumura's palaces feel like there's much less at stake, especially Kaneshiro's. Not that I disliked the game at those points, but compared to the rest of the game, it's not as exciting.

The Nijima palace was my favorite. Oh my god, it was so interesting and well developed. The music was also FIRE. I liked going around and collecting chips to continue on to the next level, and I liked seeing a shadow that wasn't directly hostile towards the group. It was such an interesting concept. I also just love Sae as a character, I like that she's not directly evil and she has good intentions, she just got kinda lost at some point. I think that's a nice change of pace from the other palaces.

Ren and Akechi have the most romantic tension in the entire series. Like kiss already, jesus fucking christ.

I like all the phantom thieves except Haru. She feels so out of place. This isn't like an attack on her character or anything, but the issues with her Okumura Foods stock or whatever it was felt so... weird. Like I get she's in a tough situation, but she's also like a millionaire, so no matter what she decides, she would be set for life probably. I don't know, it just feels wrong to me

I cried when Akechi died :( I know he's technically a bad guy but come on. He deserved better. I want to bring him back from the dead and give him a hug. Have him and the other phantom thieves live a happy life being besties or whatever.

The ending felt weird. It was so much monologuing. I don't even know exactly what I didn't like about the ending, I just didn't like it. I also didn't play royal, I just played the original, so that might have changed it. I know that apparently I was supposed to talk to the wardens throughout the game and I just... didn't. Oops.

This is such a small thing but I hated the music for Shido's palace. It made me go insane and not in a good way.

I cried when I thought Ryuji died. And then I got mad when the cast beat him up for some reason???? Literally why did they do that????

I realized I didn't talk about Makoto at all but I love her. She's amazing. She can do no wrong idc

Ok final thoughts: I actually really liked the game. It's far from a perfect game but I generally enjoyed it. I'm glad I sat down and played it (for 100 fucking hours). Anyway, this is all just my opinions, I'm not bothered or anything if you don't agree with something I said. If you want to leave a comment either agreeing or disagreeing, I'd appreciate it as long as you're not a dick about it