#ive never played DA before

[missygoesmeow]

sooooo i got a new video game :)

[ruushes]

throuple of all time to me

[stinkrascal]

dax thorne qunari · rogue · grey wardens

[an-assortment-of-forks]

what do you MEAN they made the most twink ass bald twink elf mage and then did not make him AT LEAST BI. should I even keep playing

[tamagotchikgs]

this man is trying his absolute best to avoid eye contact

[danielnelsen]

well i guess i can play bg3 now, assuming it finishes downloading sometime in the next 2 months

[selky]

Hehehe Alistair only stares at me 🥹🥹🥹

[viviae]

i've never declined doing dessent for anders before but I did it on my recent (friend) mage hawke which i think painted a fantastic image of anders.

Hawke: I'm not really sure how I feel about going to the Gallows with no safe return

Anders: You cannot be neutral, you need to pick a side.

And then he just ends the quest there. Now for the purpose of my Hawke OC this is the best possible outcome and their most realistic interaction.

I think like a criticism of Anders that is valid is that he tends to have tunnel vision and he doesn't really consider security or safety nets. As seen in how he didn't have any communication or back up plan with the Circle after the Chantry explodes. And I think a mage Hawke even with wealth and some more influence (something he points out earlier in the conversation won't protect you forever) asking if he has a plan to get out safely is what makes him call you a centrist basically and shut down.

It's very obvious that he equates sacrificing yourself with doing good work and anyone who isn't willing doesn't care.

Also this playthrough is a friendship with Anders but in my last one with a different Hawke I got railroaded into his rivalry because my only interaction with him was rejecting his advances in Act One. So in Act Three hearing him call my blood mage demon loving reaver an enemy to mages and has never supported their cause was also an interesting effect. Now that reaction was caused purely by game mechanics but in terms of rivalries Anders is the only character to explicitly assign you a political belief.

Even Fenris (who in that last playthrough I also had a rivalry with because we love demons) will make an off handed comment about your magical opinion doesn't base the rivalry off entirely mage opinions or slavery. Most characters have two-three major things that they always enjoy you doing but Anders is the only one that will explicitly assign your Hawke a political belief. All the other rivalries tend to be on a character/personality ground .

(This isn't Anders hate or critical, just some interesting personality bits that fit well with MY oc and I wanted to share)

[moss-and-marimos]

Seems like all my pals are crashing here! A party ain't a party without some ambience! Let's get some tunes going! What's your favorite band/song/playlist?

-DJ anon

YEAHHHH WOOO MUSIC I really and truly will like whatever the most energetic thing you can think of is, I will absolutely jam to some Kesha or kinda standard party/club? songs like that, I also really like breakcore stuff, lately have been really into operation sodasteal, I think we should set up just dance for the party bc that would be awesome

[taesanrot]

[cool with you] leehan x f!reader | 3.8k words f2l, college au, smut (oral m.receiving, making out), alcohol consumption note. most graphic fic ive written so far so proceed with caution, also sorry to anon for taking so long to write this thank u sm for sending requests! hope u all enjoy :3 @onedoornet

"hey guys, this is my friend, leehan. is it cool if he sits with us?" jaehyun's chirpy voice interrupted the current discussion at your table. looking up, you saw a boy with glasses and fluffy hair smiling shyly.

"is this the guy from your health class, hyung? my name is taesan, whats up?" the long haired boy's slightly quieter presence fit into your group perfectly; you, belle, and taesan being the same age as him only made it easier for him to talk to you guys.

to be honest, with how big of a group you hung out with, leehan and your conversations often got drowned out, you being pulled over to ningning and giselle while leehan was caught up in discussions with shinyu and jaehyun.

while you had nothing against the boy, you never really found yourself with the opportunity to get to know him one-on-one, and his presence in the group was merely an afterthought to you.

…

slumping into a seat in your 9 am lecture, you yawned, already regretting taking a morning math lecture. unluckily, you'd completely forgotten to register for the class until just before the beginning of the semester, leaving you no choice but to sign up for the morning section.

as you begrudgingly pulled out your notebook, your text buzzed with a message.

leehan: is that you?

yn: huh

leehan: in mr.shin's math class

leehan: look behind you

you whipped around to see leehan sitting a couple rows back, waving at you with a small smile. he donned the same black glasses he always wore, hair messily fluffed and his figure draped in a loose hoodie. smiling back, you quickly gathered your things, moving to an empty seat next to him. his eyes widened watching you walk over.

while he was on the shyer side, you most definitely were not. plus, you were more than thrilled to see a familiar face in class.

slightly out of breath from walking over, you whispered to the boy next to you.

"hey, how are you?" you were smoothing your hair down and reorganizing your things as you spoke.

looking down at his sweats, leehan wondered how you managed to look so put together at nine in the morning.

"good, i didn't know you were in this class." the boy replied quietly.

he glanced up slightly to see if the professor had arrived yet. you sucked in a breath seeing the boy up close. his side profile enticed you, but you recovered quickly, not wanting to make a fool of yourself.

"yeah, it's a requirement for my program, i suck at math, though." you frowned slightly, fiddling with your nails.

"don't worry, i can help you out." leehan smiled easily at you, earning a surprised look back.

"what? i like math." he retorted. and with that, you finally got to know the long haired boy beyond the snippets of conversation you two shared at lunches.

the two of you frequently hung out, using the excuse of working on homework to get food together, waste time at the library, or hang out at your apartment.

despite his quieter demeanor, you found that you clicked with the boy well. the two of you talked about anything and everything, whether it was your favorite movies or some dumb prank myungjae decided to play on giselle.

sometimes, you felt like no one else knew leehan as well as you did. or rather, that you were the only one who witnessed this version of leehan -- the person he was around you. the serious and quiet mannerisms he had kept up like a wall fell quickly around you. hearing his name made you think of late nights at the uni library, cold ice cream after a difficult exam, and loud laughter at his stupid jokes.

"what does a mermaid wear on her boobs?" leehan's question pierced the calm silence of your study session. looking up from your laptop, you quirked a brow.

"huh?" you were slightly in a daze, the quick shifting of your attention and the warm air of the courtyard jumbling your thoughts together.

"an algebra!" the boy in front of you barely spat the answer out before bursting into giggles, his honey voice bringing you back to earth. you sighed in fake frustration, making him laugh even harder. he dropped his pencil and notebook to hold his stomach as his laughing fit continued.

in that moment, surrounded by the soft grass of the courtyard and hair blowing in the slow breeze, leehan was a sight to behold. your breathing faltered, lungs utterly failing you as you watched his eyes crinkle adorably and as your ears filled with the sound of his pretty laugh. you felt your heart beating in your ears, bringing a hand to cup your cheek.

it was warm, and you'd be stupid to think the sun was the only reason for it.

…

you tapped the excess powder off your makeup brush delicately, finishing the final touch ups on your makeup for the night. you were sitting in your roommate, belle's, room with ningning and giselle. the four of you were getting ready for a party, like any other friday night.

"here." you clicked the tin of your blush closed as you turned towards giselle, who handed you a shot glass with clear liquid. you grimaced slightly at the sight, looking past giselle's outstretched arm to see your 2 other friends with matching shot glasses and similar looks of disgust.

the four of you clinked your glasses together before throwing back the rancid liquid. your eyes screwed shut and you reached for the nearest beverage to chase the shot.

opening your eyes, you made eye contact with ningning, giggling as she smiled at you.

moving over to stand at belle's desk, you poured another round of shots for your friends, opening your phone to play some music in the background.

2 rounds later, you were satisfied with the level of buzz you felt, sitting next to belle on her bed and leaning a head on her shoulder.

"tired already?" she laughed at you, poking your thigh teasingly. you shook your head.

"can't sleep now, y/n, or you'll miss seeing your boyfriend." ningning's voice was singsongy as she teased you. you pulled your head off of your friend's shoulder to flip ningning off.

"he is not my boyfriend." you protested, cheeks burning at the mention of the long haired boy.

"seriously, y/n, we all see how you guys are together." giselle spoke lazily as she straightened her hair, throwing a sarcastic look at you.

"yeah, it's like you guys are in your own little bubble. it's disgusting actually." belle agreed. before you could land a soft punch on her shoulder, her phone screen lit up with a message.

it was a message from taesan. you couldn't make out the full text, only catching a glimpse of his contact picture.

"speaking of the devil, he and the boys are about to head over there. we should get going." the timing worked out perfectly as giselle had just finished doing her hair and ningning had finally picked out her outfit.

you checked yourself in the mirror one last time, doing a quick once over of your outfit. the denim shorts and white halter top complimented you well, and you smiled triumphantly as you tucked some of your hair behind your ear.

you wondered if leehan would like your outfit, stomach flipping at the idea of seeing him soon. he usually didn't enjoy these types of functions, but the boys convinced him to come for once.

"y/n! hurry your ass up!" giselle's voice snapped you out of your daze, and you ran out the door to catch up to your friends.

…

music pulsed through your veins as you pushed open the door. the party was louder than you expected, and you could barely hear belle yelling at you over the music.

"let's go to the kitchen!" her voice was almost drowned out by the music, and she grabbed you hand to pull you in the right direction.

you friends found a bit of solace in the kitchen, as well as the drinks.

"let's take a round of shots." ningning smiled deviously, pouring out four shots of some clear liquid from a bottle you didn't recognize. somehow you had a feeling tonight was going to be more eventful than usual.

a couple rounds later, you and the girls were sufficiently drunk, finally deciding to look for the rest of your friends. before you could turn and enter the crowd of bodies, you felt someone grab your shoulder and pull you in for a hug.

looking up, you were met with taesan's smiling face, making you laugh and hug him back.

"we thought you guys died!" he yelled drunkenly, moving past you to say hello to the rest of the girls. behind him, you saw shinyu and myungjae's flushed faces. the boys clearly pregamed more than you guys did.

as taesan pulled belle and ningning out into the living room to dance and the rest of your friends filed out behind them, you were left in the kitchen with none other than leehan. he was still standing near the kitchen's entrance.

you walked over to him, almost tripping over your foot in the process.

"hi." you giggled. the long haired boy's eyes widened with concern at your unstable steps, hand reaching out to grab your shoulder.

"how drunk are you?" he asked with a small smile on his face. he thought you looked so cute like this, cheeks slightly pink and eyes crinkled. you shrugged teasingly.

"dunno. did you drink?" he seemed a bit more composed than the other boys.

"yeah, i'm just tipsy though." you nodded in acknowledgement before breaking out into another dazed smile.

despite the intoxication running through your system, the two of you fell into conversation just as easily as usual. your head felt foggy as leehan rambled about his day and how he and the guys had gotten to the party. the boy could read you like a book, noticing the way your eyes looked at him but felt far away.

"what're you thinking about?" he asked curiously. you snapped out of your chaotic thoughts. not uttering a word, you brought your index finger up and lightly pressed the skin underneath the boy's right eye. leehan's eyes widened at your boldness, not knowing what you were going to do next.

"your glasses …" you mumbled. you traced your finger under the boy's eye and across the bridge of his nose, where his thick frames usually sat. it was the first thing you'd noticed when you finally approached him.

"do you miss them?" he asked with a small smile on his face, amused at the way you were so perplexed by the lack of the accessory. you shook your head fervently, confusing him.

"no, i like this." you stated, tapping the bridge of his nose. "i get to see more of you."

leehan felt his ears burning at the sweetness of the words melting off your tongue. you giggled again, he didn't know why.

before you could drop your hand back to your side, he wrapped his fingers around your wrist delicately, eliciting a small gasp from you. breathing slowly, he moved your hand so it cupped his jaw, laying his larger hand over yours.

he slid your fingers down his neck, laying the pads of them over his pulse point. you bit your lip slowly, mind still spinning. you weren't sure if you were imagining it but you swore you could feel his pulse thrumming unimaginely quick under your touch. the mere thought made butterflies erupt in your stomach, and suddenly the kitchen was too warm and too stuffy.

"can we get out of here?" leehan smiled at your timid question, intertwining his hand with yours and letting them both drop and hang in the small space between the two fo you.

craning his neck to the side, he looked to make sure your friends were okay, sighing in relief at the sight of them all dancing together in the living room. turning back to you, he grinned.

"let's go."

…

leehan’s face is flushed red, and he’s happy it isn’t from the alcohol.

it’s you sitting on his lap so delicately that's making his skin feel like it's burning and his lungs feel like he’s underwater.

your fingers comb into his fluffy hair, ruffling it gently as your lips suck on the soft skin of his neck.

you don’t know how long you’ve been here, kissing leehan all over like you’ll never be able to lay a finger on his pearly skin ever again.

the two of you stumbled into your apartment. you barely even made sure the door was locked before pushing leehan onto your living room couch. as you sat yourself down on his lap, you mentally cursed your friends for how well they knew you — your thoughts when it came to the quiet boy were all but innocent.

his hands landed on your hips easily, tilting his face up so you could capture his lips with yours.

in a drunken stupor you almost missed his lips, but the two of you settled into a rhythm easily, like you'd been doing this forever. leehan's long fingers caressed the exposed skin of your side, brushing up and down until your skin filled with goosebumps.

your arms wrapped around his neck as his tongue brushed your bottom lip, coaxing your lips open. you swore you saw stars as he pushed his tongue into your mouth, the wet muscle brushing the inside of your cheek.

the lewd noises you two were making only egged you on further, and when leehan pulled away to catch his breath you tilted your face and attached your lips to the curve where his neck met his shoulders.

the feeling of your plush lips and warm tongue against his throat pulled a loud moan out of him, and his hands instinctively pressed into your shoulder blades, pulling you into him more and more.

pulling the neck of his shirt down slightly, you moved to his collarbone, biting it softly before stroking it with your tongue. the boy threw his head back, pressing further into the couch as his heart pumped impossibly fast.

while adjusting yourself in his lap to get a better angle, you felt something hard poking your thigh. smiling against his neck, you unclasped your hands that wrapped around his neck and let them drift down. your fingers danced across his chest and abdomen, landing at the waistband of his pants. you captured his lips in another searing kiss as you unbuttoned them clumsily.

before you could get to the last button, leehan pulled his mouth away from yours, large hands landing on top of yours on his crotch.

"are you sure about this? you're still kinda drunk." leehan asked breathlessly. he wanted you, that was without question, but the last thing he wanted to do was ruin your friendship because of some drunken impulsivity.

the corners of your lips curved upward as you looked at the boy catching his breath beneath you. you slipped off on his lap to sit on the floor, hands pushing his knees apart.

"leehan, i've wanted you for so long now. let me make you feel good." you cooed at him, and he moved his hands to help you slip his pants and boxers to his ankles.

his dick sprung out, tip red and leaking, and you spit into your hand lightly before wrapping your hand around the top half. leehan groaned as you ran your thumb over the tip, spreading his slick before giving him a few experimental strokes.

the boy was already shaking, sensitive and aching for your touch. after a few more pumps, you licked your lips and grabbed his hand with your free one, guiding his hand to your neck so he could hold your hair for you.

he complied in a daze, combing his fingers through your hair and holding it back, caressing your neck with his other hand.

you smiled up at him before leaning forward to kiss his swollen tip. something in your stomach burned when you heard him hiss, his grip on your hair tightening slightly.

you delicately wrapped your lips around him, brushing the tip with your tongue once before sinking your mouth further down on him.

a moan ripped through the boy as he felt the warm expanse of your throat. you took as much as you could, wrapping your hand around the last few inches. swallowing harshly, leehan used all of the strength he had to not thrust into your mouth.

you moved languidly on his dick, swallowing more and more. your other hand rested on his hip bone, and the boy removed the hand resting idly on your neck so he could hold your empty hand.

the feeling of your mouth full made you moan, the sound sending vibrations through leehan’s body. he tensed and writhed under you, eyes screwed shut. the sight of him unraveling underneath you only spurred you on even further.

you moved up and down on his length at a quicker pace, his tip hitting the back of your throat in a way that made your name spill from his mouth over and over.

he guided your head slightly so he could keep kissing that spot with his dick, eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head.

when you swallowed around him he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from screaming your name.

you could tell he was close by the way he squeezed your hand and the way his abdomen was tensing sporadically.

"where-" the boy stuttered, almost unable to think straight.

"can i cum in your mouth?" he managed to spit out between moans. you tried your best to nod, squeezing his hand.

as his climax approached, leehan’s whole body writhed and you pressed your hand down on his hips. breathing in deeply through your nose, you sank down and took almost all of him, his tip hitting the back of your throat roughly. that was enough to send him over the edge, and his whole body stilled as his vision went white.

his cum spilled into your throat and you gagged slightly before swallowing it all. dragging your tongue on his length, you removed your mouth from him with a pop.

you looked up at leehan as he caught his breath. giggling at his dazed state, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

“that was amazing” he breathed out, pulling you back onto his lap.

his hand cupped your neck as he pulled you in for a soft kiss, before pulling away and tucking some of your hair behind your ear. you smiled as you let him smooth down your ruffled hair and wipe the tears that had gathered in the corner of your eyes.

“gonna go get some water.” you lifted yourself from his lap slowly, stretching out your legs slightly before padding over to the kitchen.

you returned with a glass of water and a pair of oversized sweatpants from your room.

“do you wanna change? i think these might fit.” you asked, thrusting the pants forward in his direction. he stood up slowly, smiling at your gratefully as he nodded, grabbing the sweats and walking to your bathroom.

when he came back out, you were sitting on the couch mid-yawn, having changed into an oversized tshirt and some pj shorts.

turning to meet his eyes, you smiled and stood up. grabbing his hand, you led him to your room, slipping underneath the covers and holding them up so he could join you.

“wanna watch a movie?” your voice pierced the silence, and leehan chuckled. you were adorable. from how droopy your eyes were, he knew you wouldn't be awake for much longer, but he reached over to your nightstand and grabbed your laptop anyways.

after picking a movie, you placed the laptop on leehan's lap, snuggling against his shoulder. he wrapped and arm around you, pulling you into his side and resting his head on top of yours. you tangled your legs with his, sighing in contentment. leehan smiled down at you.

he was right -- within 5 minutes you were asleep, having shifted to lay down fully instead of leaning against your headboard. leehan smiled fondly at your sleeping form. he felt so lucky that you felt the same way about him as he did you.

setting your laptop away and plugging in your phone to charge, the boy shifted so he was laying down next to you, throwing an arm over you. you stirred slightly in your sleep, arms reaching out to hug him and cuddle into his chest.

…

you woke up before leehan, rubbing your bleary eyes. you were still sleeping against his chest, tilting your head up slightly to look at his sleeping face. he looked ethereal, hair mused slightly. as you reached a hand up to smooth down the messy strands, his eyes opened, a smile forming as he made eye contact with you.

"morning." his raspy morning voice made your cheeks burn. him leaning his head down to place a wet kiss to the side of your head didn't help either, and you were sure your ears were cherry red.

"i have an idea." the boy mumbled, and you tilted your head in curiosity. yawning, he tightened his hold on you, nuzzling his cheek against your hair.

"you should let me take you on a date today." you couldn't stop the grin from forming on your face, giggling. you nodded into his chest, pressing yourself further into him and breathing him in.

his fingers suddenly jabbed into your side, making you shriek. you laughed, pushing the boy away from you.

"i wanna hear you say it!" he said teasingly. you were trying and failing at swatting his hands away, eyes crinkling as you smiled.

"yes! yes! i'll go on a date with you." you exclaimed between giggles, sighing in relief as the boy finally stopped tickling you. he grinned, folding you back into his arms and tucking your head under his chin.

"let's sleep a little longer first."

…

while the two of you were still asleep, your friends sat in the dining hall, grabbing lunch.

"look what i have." belle spoke giddily, grabbing the attention of taesan, myungjae, shinyu, giselle, and ningning.

turning her phone around, she showed them a picture of you and leehan asleep in your bed. it was in the early morning, and you were cuddled into his chest.

"that's where he went!"

"i KNEW they were into each other."

"shinyu! you owe me $15 dollars."

it was safe to say the two of you received a plethora of text messages when you finally woke up.

[coriphallus]

DA: The Veilguard Spoiler review pt2 - The Grime

this is a hard one to tackle without strawmaning anyone because itll be a direct response to alot of defense ive seen for the games morality system so ill just start by saying, iykyk

never a genre has been better equipped to discuss ethics than the interactive medium of games and yes, bioware games have been doing it since baldurs gate and no, theyve not always been 'centrist' and 'conservative'. im not even gonna entertain that idea. do you remember the cultural landscape DA:O released to? the landscape it was developed in? dont give me that just because zevran doesnt write in his little notes -that you can conveniently read- 'gay good. not me but me bisexual'

Thedas is a flawed world and its a world thats just as desperate to hang on to its status quo as our own. every time you play an elf thats thriving, or a human thats queer, or a mage thats not institutionalised you exist in a world that doesnt want you, it is an act of defiance that you do.

im sure we can all see why these games were so popular with the audience they can only weakly try to pander to today.

derailing time again; so one of my favourite paintings of all time is saturn devouring his son. it makes me feel so uncomfortable that it gave me nightmares as a child, and i still cant look at it without feeling this knot in my throat. i hate it. i hate how it makes me feel, how that man looks at me in terror like its begging me for help while cannibalising another. weird story but i was bewitched by that painting as a little kid.

it is not a well drawn painting, the proportions are all over the place, brush strokes crude and inelegant. it doesnt even have a deeper story nor was it intended for an audience. i will never know what goya thought of when drawing it.

i thought alot about that painting later in my life when i was struggling with mental health problems, i thought about goya alot too as an adult and after learning about his life. i stared at his paintings and remembered when i told my dad that i hated [saturns] big eyes and hed jokingly said "it would be scarier if he didnt have eyes"

i know what the drawing looks like now, nearly everyone with a little access to the internet does. if somebody removed saturn from it, we'd still be left with a brutalised headless carcass of a man in a canvas too big for itself. if we removed that too all we'd be left with would be void.

i dont want to live in a world where all i know of goya is his rococo work, i dont want to stare at the painting of a void knowing what filled it before. i hated every second of germinale but i never wanted it to be anything other than itself, the story it tells could never hold credence otherwise.

DAV has done its best to paint over it, but its still on the old canvas and i cant look away from the negative space its left, i know whats under it and it unsettles me, infuriates me. it hands me a palette with baby blues and pinks and tells me to paint over it to make a prettier painting. didnt i hate the eyes? wasnt it gross before?

i am not going to write why we need some grime in art, but its absence is disheartening. and to those who say hanged people in the streets or blighted villagers is dark and mature ill say no. its a kids idea of maturity, its the aesthetic of it with no substance. it means nothing to me if rook can just drench themselves in gallons of blight as they crawl through it. the horror of blight has never been the black goo and slimy tentacles, or the monster woman with way too many tits. it is watching people you love slowly fade away, it is a woman who was forced to cannibalise the contaminated flesh of her friends because the woman she loved betrayed her, it was the sheer scale and inevitability of it.

one area we go to is overrun by it and the game begs me to feel hopeful that flowers are growing again when it never let me lose hope. people have already prevailed, they have roofs over their heads and a steady supply of food on their tables. their spirit is unwavering.

its bad, everybody says. the sky is grey and soil is blackened, as my rook turns some statues to access a haunted house whos inhabitants are long gone and the only story they could ever tell is gone with them.

if the question is do i want to see famine? plague? misery? abuse? assault? the answer is yes. yes. i want to see it all of the filth. i rather face the fucking monster head on with its big bulging eyes and misshapen limbs than stare at the abyss its absence leaves on the canvas.

and if nothing else, this bastardization is disrespectful to the people who gave the IP its fame.

Why choose to be good?

back in the bsn days ive wondered why, even in a fictional universe where your choices have no real-life repercussions what-so-ever, players had more 'good' playthroughts than 'bad'?

what happens when you start killing NPCs, when youre needlessly mean to them? the game actively closes off its own content. you get less out of the game. just as, completely incidentally, you'd get less out of your life if you just started killing everyone around you. The world would be emptier, youd be alone.

in that quote i stole from good place chidi doesnt ask "why be good?" the wording is painfully deliberate. doing good is always a choice, and often not the easy one. what makes the act matter is that you chose to do it, even when given 6 other options not to. did i stop in the middle of an important quest to help a man retrieve an heirloom from a darkspawn infested hut? did i hear what that heirloom meant to him?

i cant stop thinking about that speech ever since playing this game after knowing its predecessors.

So, why do it then? Why choose to be good, every day, if there is no guaranteed reward we can count on, now or in the afterlife? I argue that we choose to be good because of our bonds with other people and our innate desire to treat them with dignity. Simply put, we are not in this alone.

i cant stop looking at this game that spits on its own legacy and think how could they have missed what fundamentally makes us human so bad, what makes us relate and empathise with eachother. what makes us pick the option to interact with an npc who openly hates what hawke is, and allow us to see the traumatised man underneath.

these characters of fiction are written by real people. i have absolutely nothing in common with a guy from canada yet for a brief moment in time i feel a sense of camaraderie as ive felt with goya that i couldnt articulate as a kid.

Nothing too terrible

DAV says it over and over again -as its wont to do with every piece of its flimsy morality- that people can change, people can be redeemed yet it shines as the game with most static characters in its franchise. it simply says things, and since it has nothing to show for it it makes sure to say it repeatedly, in case you missed it.

so when i first played DAO i was in high school, i started with a human noble because fresh out of dark side edgy kotor fame i wanted to be a posh brat. also because, ya kno, we were poor my entire life up until that point and i wanted to have power.

i committed to it, even as the game stripped cousland of everything he had, because i thought a man like him would. i picked the racist options, the sexist options, the options a man in couslands place would. halfway point of the game as i exhausted the initial dialogues something happened; this man who got paid to kill people, who showed no remorse nor care for his victims, begged my cousland to stil his blade.

and i did. i thought maybe he would be as confused as i was, maybe he had a moment of clarity but from thereon bit by bit he was less of an asshole. the characters grew around me, and my character grew around them. i chose to be good because -textually- we were in this together, at the end of all things.

rook is not a character, theyre a mascot. and quite frankly i think they may be a very evangelical mascot because they remind me of evangelical preachings of jesus more than the man from the bible (and i say this as someone whos only exposure to christianity has been through foreign media and the bible ive read that one time). they are the epitome of do no evil and their existence hinges on the frail concept of moral purity. theyre not a person trying to do good, who wants to be good, they are 'good'

-and lemme tell you its a wild choice to have someone like that locked in a prison of 'regret'-

rook can be mean to only one person in the game, and thats someone they dont even have a personal beef with for the most part. but even then they would be shouting at a wall because the game doesnt only undermine them with its narrative, but also every npc in the game suddenly gets possessed by the ghost of wattpad rejects past for a moment to tell them everyone can be redeemed. and i believe it because i played the other games, i believe it because i know zevran and sten and morrigan, isabela and thom and iron bull and dorian. i know it because i can see the vague shapes behind the new coat of paint but i am not rook.

so no, the game fails to get people-can-change points by its own merit, and it cannot gain points from its prequels because it destroyed them. none of those characters i watched grow exist in this universe. zevran cant exist with DAV crows, fenris` story cant exist in an imperium with invisible slaves only glimpsed through empty cages and broken chains left scattered on the ground. i dont know which morrigan this NPC is, is it the woman who grew to learn kindness, who begged to sleep with her friend just to save them despite knowing it would play into the plans of a destiny she so desperately tried to break free from? or is she the clever puppet her mother groomed her to be who wanted to harness the power of a god? i dont know her, i dont know this dorian or this isabela beyond their names ipso facto this is not a sequel.

bellara asks an assassin why he is trying to save the world and his answer is "ive done some things in the past im not too proud of. nothing too terrible, but some of it was bad." and i can hear the games desperation for me to not engage with its material in that 'nothing too terrible'

lucanis never killed anyone innocent, taash never harmed an animal they could shoo of or reason with, emmrich venerates the dead and is friends with every wisp he pulls to use in menial labour, davrin joined the wardens willingly because he wanted to do good...

rook tells harding that her anger is justified when shes not even allowed anger of her own.

nothing too terrible.

aside from creating boring and nonsensical and static characters it creates a dreadful echochamber that we're forced to sustain. No taash is not valid, their gender is but their behaviour is not and for the character to grow and mature it needs to be addressed. lucanis doesnt need to be pampered in shock blankets he needs to see how repressing his problems and jeopardising his health puts people around him in danger etc etc. they are adults and they need to learn more complex ways of healing. and if rooks flaw is that theyre an enabler, then that needs to be acknowledged by the narrative in some way too, and not mindlessly endorsed because they say some buzzwords.

none of these interpersonal relationships feels real because none of these people feel real beyond some draft of themes and tropes. some interactions literally remind me of two bots in facebook comments

i look at this dialogue wheel with familiar symbols and all im reminded of is hawke telling carver he carries every death with him, of him telling his uncle that he wasnt fast enough, of him begging the person he loves to tell him that his mothers death wasnt his fault.

and they dont. they just sit there with him.

[sayafics]

Dragon of Dorne - Chapter IV

This is quite a long chapter (which hopefully makes up for the long wait <3) with lots of fluff and some inappropriate thoughts - I promise so much more Daemon&Alaynha moments in Chapter V, I just wanted to give them something to build a relationship from.

A small change in this is that Viserys doesn't die - at least not yet. Another change is that Rhaenyra also doesn't have a miscarriage yet.

I still plan to stick to the plot-line, but just add in a few extra weeks for some Daemon-Alaynha moments <3 (which I feel so guilty saying but like oops).

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

Daemon had bargained plenty that night - the children did not have to stay. Rhaenyra did not have to stay.

But he would.

For Viserys. For his brother.

Of course, such a tale was not far from the truth. His brother was frail - dying, even. The quicker the hours pass, the closer the Reaper drew upon Viserys, awaiting for him to take his last breath.

Daemon had spent years at Rhaenyra's side, he had neglected his duties as a brother and cast Viserys aside. So his words were not all lies and some truth remained.

He would stay in King's Landing until Viserys had recovered or passed. The children could stay at Dragonstone and continue with their lives, and Rhaenyra with them to rear their youngest.

Of course, Rhaenyra was never one to listen and promised to join him after spending a fortnight at Dragonstone and remain by his side until the birth of their child, during which if all went well, their blended family would return to the Keep and claim it as their home once more.

Daemon gritted him teeth at that, frustration swelling within him at the possibility of navigating his countless schemes whilst being interceded by wailing babes and an angered wife.

There was a quiet ache of guilt present, too - knowing how long Rhaenyra had been pining for him because of his deviances as a terrible and power-hungry man all those years ago. For her to finally have all of which she desires, simply for it to be threatened by a kin she did not want - Daemon could sympathise.

But this was not affection he felt, nor lust. Surely it was much simpler. Much easier.

Daemon was curious.

Daemon is a shrewd man - calculating and manipulative, violent and mean. A rogue prince through and through, where all could see his qualities and hold it to the light with assuredness.

But this girl- this princess. So bright and kind and loving. A mask so thick and well-crafted even Daemon had struggled to see the beast that lurked beneath.

It was the darkness that welled up in those pretty eyes of hers, the spark that ached to turn into a raging fire.

It was curiosity, nothing more.

***

When Rhaenyra and the children had left the following morning, he urged them to return to Dragonstone by sea - it was safer with him absent. A worthy excuse for more time.

Rhaenyra had accepted with a quaint smile, a pretentious act at playing a blushing bride - to which he merely mustered a peck upon the cheek in return.

He could see the confusion in her eyes, could see her wonder why her Daemon was changing so quick.

But the truth was his previous marriages had broken him - kept him confined and chained. He allowed himself to become a tamed dragon, and freely handed his reigns over to Rhaenyra for her to wave proudly in show.

He loved her. Of course he did. He loved the girl who rode upon dragon-back to claim a stolen dragon egg, threats of fire and violence spewing from her lips - but even that girl he did not marry.

And yet, before him stood a swollen bride that was a mere echo of the girl he knew all those years ago. A realisation that had haunted him for far too long.

He thought the children would help - hoped they would ignite the dragon fire within him, would give him purpose and life.

Or perhaps they would ignite the fire that had become smothered within Rhaenyra and an ounce of the girl he knew then would return, and he would settle. He would revere and concede and accept.

Daemon felt weightless. Purposeless. Useless.

Pathetic.

***

Daemon suppressed the smirk itching at his lips as he sauntered his way back to his chambers.

His chambers.

The very ones he'd lounged in so many years ago with his wine and his whores, and not the one he had been made to sleep in the last few days.

The Keep was buzzing with life - Lords and Ladies of the Court watched him with sharp gazes, maids and guards were either hesitant to meet his gaze or watched over him with rousing suspicion.

Daemon could barely suppress his grin as he met their stares head-on with raised brows and dark eyes.

There was one thing he had to remember during his stay at the Keep - with Viserys bound to his bed and milk of the poppy poured down his throat in rivulets, he was without any allies in the Keep.

After Strong had burnt to ashes, Daemon was unsure of who led his Gold Cloaks now and was curious as to whether their loyalties had shifted alongside their leadership.

His mongrels were perhaps wastrels instead, eyes begging and hands postulated for any alms in the shape of golden coins.

Although there should be a few loyalists scattered around the Keep - he may not have been well liked, but he was brash and powerful, something that drew people in.

When Daemon returned to his chambers, he searched through his old belongings with renewed vigour. His muscles almost trembled as he pulled out clothing he hadn't seen in so long - too long has he spent in ornate robes and simple tunics. Too long has he gone without the needed release he found in the wiles of a well-earned fight.

Too long.

He stripped with ease, a sense of relief washing over him as the waning material of the tunics Rhaenyra loved so much fell from his scarred skin and he slipped on his leather armour with ease.

With his sword attached at his side, Daemon left his room feeling more like the depraved and nefarious prince he had been all those years ago.

This time he could not help his grin - big and broad and terrifying to all who glanced his way.

This was the rogue prince - no longer was he an ornament for the Heir to parade, no longer was he a dysfunctional and futile man.

No. He was a dragon.

And it was time he returned to the sky and wreaked havoc upon all those who would dare look down on him.

***

Daemon stood under an archway, arms folded across his chest as he watched the scene unfold with amusement.

Upon the training grounds, engaged in a vicious bout of training, was none other than his harrowing nephew and sultry niece.

Aegon watched his brother and sister in amusement, an array of cakes and fruits and wines laid upon a table near him as though he had beckoned them solely for the purpose of watching his siblings fight as a form of entertainment. He seated himself at the edge of the training grounds, unable to control his laughter or his brutal glee.

He would jeer when Aemond aimed too close to Alaynha's delicate face, cackle with glee when she would trip the boy and throw food at the pair when they would become so distracted in passing taunts they forgot to exchange blows instead.

Daemon was impressed by the skill of the girl - out-manouvering her brother with ease. She met blow for blow, with just as much force behind her own hits as him. She doged every cut and met every slash with a brutal one of her own.

Not once did an ounce of blood drip to the ground in failure - she was skilled.

But he could not ignore the possibility Aemond had taken it easy upon her - with the weight of his glares from the previous night, the chances of Aemond willingly hurting his younger sister was close to naught.

Still, Daemon could not help but draw comparisons.

His first wife had been handy with a sword, but he had only ever heard rumours. And those rumours did nothing to gain her his favour, as although she was a fine swordswoman, she was dragonless and, therefore, useless in all the ways a Targaryen would require.

His second wife and third were fierce dragon-riders. Unafraid of the fire of a dragon and the heights they could scale.

But even they could not tell apart the hilt of a sword from the scales of a beast.

But here, before him, stood a challenge and a promise. A swordswoman and a dragon-rider.

Daemon could feel himself stiffen within his breeches at the sight of her panting form, the sweat upon her brow as she dodged every deathly blow and sweeped her brother's feet from beneath him.

As Aemond fell to the ground, she kicked his arm with vicious glee and the sword he held flew from his grasp. She aimed her sword at his throat, her own rising and falling with hurried pants as a gasping laugh escaped her in glee.

Aegon leapt up from his chair, loud claps and a boisterous laugh at his brother's fall.

Daemon had expected Aemond to grow angered at the humiliation - to spit insulting words and perhaps even show her just how placative he had been.

Instead, he smiled - and for once he looked like a young boy again, a shadow of the child who had half his sight stolen from him.

Aemond stood up with a proud smirk when she had relinquished her sword, a conceding nod as he praised her, "a fine swordswoman indeed. I see Cole has taught you well, jorrāelagon mandia (dear sister)."

"Criston has taught me very well indeed, lēkia (brother). I believe if I continue under his wing, kepa will have no choice but to let me join the Gold Cloaks."

Daemon straightened at the mention of the army he had trained as his own, and his body flushed with a pleasant warmth at the idea of Alaynha - so mischievous and small - killing and maiming vile men under the uniform he designed.

It was almost a sign of ownership.

As though she was his - his violent, little dragon.

Almost.

He entertained the prospect of taking over his Gold Cloaks once more - Viserys would accept in a heartbeat.

And if he did, Daemon would pick Alaynha as his protégée in an instant - perhaps he would give her private lessons on the art of mastering the sword, teach her to command the army in High Valyrian simply because such a sight would flood his body in arousal and have her torture men in his name so he could watch her covered in blood, gazing at him with those pleading eyes, begging for his approval.

Fuck.

But he held himself back from his spiralling thoughts - curiosity. This was simply curiosity, he admonished his traiterous thoughts.

He stood straighter, hand reaching down to adjust his hardened cock.

He cleared his throat before stepping away from his hiding space - although it was quite out in the open, he almost grinned when he saw his nephews stiffen at the sight of his approach.

"Kepus," her voice was light and airy, just as surprised as her brothers to see the man still in the Keep when his wife and children had already sailed away.

"You're still here."

"Ah, I am. Although, dare I say Zaldrītsos (little dragon), you almost seem disappointed."

Alaynha rolled her eyes, a faint smile tugging at her lips, "of course not. I simply thought you would have sailed to Dragonstone with your wife and children."

"They must miss you dearly," Aemond drew closer as he spoke, "perhaps it is not too late to join them. I am sure your dragon will carry you fast and far."

"Ah, but why would I leave such great company for that of whom I've endured for years already." Daemon raised his brow in challenge, daring Aemond to suggest he leave his homeland once more.

He watched as Alaynha gazed between the two of them, her eyes then turning towards Aegon as she sighed in exasperation.

"Come, sister." Aegon consoled from his place, lounging upon a chair with a cup of wine filled to the brim, "let us flee before they bore us with their barbs and insults instead."

Alaynha snorted quietly, an amused grin upon her face as she rolled her eyes at her brother's antics - "might I suggest a better alternative?"

The brothers and Daemon stared at her in curiosity, "well, it seems our dear uncle is prepared for a fight. What better way to bond with the kin he refused to acknowledge than by sparring with them? Do you not agree, kepus?"

Daemon recalled the girl's words from yesterday, the spite that tainted her words as she rightly accused him of despising her family for their Hightower blood.

They were half-blooded Targaryens, barely dragons in his eyes.

But such things could not be true if he saw such a raging beast exist within her, as she was just as half-blooded as the rest of them.

Just as half-blooded as Rhaenyra's children.

But her birth, alongside that of her brothers and sister, had not been tainted by lies and an unsanctimonious vow.

"Mayhaps you are too scared, nuncle," it was Aegon who spoke with a broad grin, "my brother was trained by Ser Cole himself. You must remember the man - he told us the tale of how he knocked you off your horse. And your feet."

"Aegon," Alaynha lightly scolded the boy but could not hold back her own amused smile at his words - even Aemond had cracked a smirk.

Alaynha's eyes widened at the sound of a deep and rich laugh. She feared they had angered their uncle with their taunts and tales, but it only took a glance into the violent hues of Daemon Targaryen to see them swallowed whole by challenge and delight.

So long it had been since he had experienced such provocation, such defiance. A call of like to like as his blood sang with the call of a dragon.

Perhaps there was a kinship here, long denied by tainted blood and half-whispered promises.

"If my nephew is up for the challenge, I will not be the one to shy away."

Daemon tilted his head towards Aemond in recognition, hand placed upon the hilt of his sword as he awaited his answer.

Aemond, never one to turn down a challenge, agreed swiftly by turning his back to his uncle and making his way to the centre of the training grounds once more.

Daemon smirked at the show of confidence that rolled off the boy in tumultuous waves, but even he could not help the ounce of admiration echoing in his mind - had this been Jace or even Luke, they would have quaked and trembled at his presence.

And yet, here was his brother's child - a second born son, a turbulent fire. Seething and wrathful.

The irony of such a thing did not beget him.

Daemon made his way towards Aemond, but a hand upon his wrist stopped him in his place. He glanced down to the delicate hand anchoring him, eyes travelling up the soft skin glowing with a sheen of sweat from a harrowing sword fight, to meet the gentle eyes of a girl much too complex and secretive for him to decipher her with ease.

"Do take it easy upon him."

Her words were spoken pleadingly, as though this was not her idea. It seemed she could hear the words ringing in his head, and she sighed quietly as she continued, "although he may not admit it, he admires you. Truly so. You told me you wanted to know me. Well, know I love my brothers, and I cannot see them hurt - even in jest."

Now, here was a thing Daemon could empathise with. Here was a thing Daemon saw in himself.

He loved his brother, wholly and true. He would conquer worlds in his brother's name, and cut himself upon his own sword if Viserys had asked.

He knew the love one had for their brother, and he could see it shining in her eyes.

Still, Daemon was never one to let an opportunity to tease and test pass without falter - "and what will you give me in return for such a favour?"

She raised her brow in surprise, as though she couldn't believe he was asking such a thing in exchange for a measly request. Still she rolled her eyes and conceeded, "anything."

And such words were the truth.

"Do not spill a drop of blood, and you shall have anything you ask of me, Daemon."

Daemon.

Daemon.

Fuck, she had called him Daemon.

A descending warmth filled Daemon's body at the sound of his name rolling off of her tongue - so familiar, so tempting, so erotic.

Call me Daemon. Say it again.

He was tempted to speak aloud and beg for it.

But he could see Aemond's impatient form and Aegon's restless agitation - "anything, you say? It seems we have ourselves a bargain, zaldrītsos."

***

If this was what he believed was taking it easy, Daemon would be sorely disappointed when it came to asking for Alaynha's favour.

Although, she did have to say - her brother held his own quite well against the battle-worn soldier they knew Daemon to be. She swore upon the Seven she even heard the boy allow a careless laugh to escape his lips as he lost himself in the flurry of lunges and blows they exchanged.

Alaynha couldn't help the soft smile that stretched upon her lips as she watched the pair. Still, she was on edge - whether it was from distrust, enjoyment, or fervent kinship, their fight grew more brutal.

Less and less were there moments of deflecting and blocking and feinting. Every stab and every slash was made to leave a mark.

And still, in place of tension and worry upon the training grounds, there was a growing fever of gratification bubbling in the air - as though this was the challenge they had been waiting for all this time, pushing themselves to the brink of exhaustion to relieve themselves of anger and worry and misery.

This is what they had been missing.

And the realisation only made them fight harder.

"Do try and beat him, little brother," called out Aegon from the sidelines. He stood now, leaning against the back of the chair as he spoke out words of encouragement disguised as mocking jeers.

Alaynha sat upon the chair, reaching back to slap Aegon lightly upon the shoulder. He only huffed in her ear instead, "what? I am being encouraging."

"You are being a nuisance."

"Ah," he grinned blearily, "when am I ever not."

She snorted, "when you a too drunk to raise your head and bat your eyes rōva lēkia (big brother)."

"Oh, but a day in the shoes of a forgotten Prince would have you do the same byka rūklon (little flower)."

She smiled sadly, leaning back so her head rested against his arms - "at least you have your wine," she jested.

"And my whores."

His voice lowered an octave, whispering so dramatically in her ears that she couldn't help the laughter that escaped her in a bubbling concession.

Her laugh was bright and loud and echoed across the grounds. So captivating Daemon felt his heart almost stutter to a pause as he raised his sword, ready to meet a vicious blow from his newphew.

His head turned, as though his body had a mind of its own and his mind clouded with thoughts. Thoughts and ideas and wishes and curiosity.

Just a glimpse.

Just a second.

Instead, he felt his face burn as his sword missed Aemond's by inches, and his hardened slash met Daemon's cheek with vigour.

Daemon hissed, head twisting to the side as blood dribbled from the wound and pooled at the corner of his mouth as a surprised laugh escaped him.

"Aemond!" Alaynha spoke out in admonishment, even Aegon had held his breath for a second.

Daemon tutted, "my mistake, I believe. One should never let their gaze stray from their opponent."

Aemond stared at the man with a gaze so similar to the young boy who had his sight taken from him, almost hesitant to breathe in his presence now.

"Do not tell me you give up now?" Daemon grinned at the boy, eyes simmering with the fire of a dragon, heart beating as adrenaline pumped through him and excitement singed his veins, "come on, nephew. I thought you were better than this."

His words caused a spark to glimmer in Aemond's eyes before a roaring fire was set alight, he raised his sword for another hit, which Daemon met with a fierce one of his own.

Where Aemond parried Daemon's every strike with rigid eloquence, Daemon would meet his with vicious victory - steel clashing against each other as neither was willing to submit.

Alaynha sat straight upon her chair, spine stiffened as her fingers twisted in the material of her own leathers. Aegon's hand came to rest at her shoulder, squeezing in comfort as they watched the two battle out years of anguish and anger upon one another.

Daemon continued thrusting his sword forward, Aemond dancing around him and evading every lunge and throwing back fierce blows as his own sword sliced through the air.

It only took a single second- a breath.

Their swords clashed against one another, and all kindness and civility washed away in face of pure rage and animosity.

Daemon was still Rhaenyra's husband. He still hated the Hightowers. He would rather see Otto and Alicent dead than near the King.

Aemond was a Hightower bastard. A second son only by Otto's manipulations and ploys. He would rather see Rhaenyra dead and sit upon the throne himself.

Teeth gritted and growls escaped their lips as they waited for the other to yield - but neither dared.

A glint of light caught Daemon's attention, and he watched over Aemond's shoulder as Alaynha drew closer in distress.

It seemed Aemond could also hear her approaching footsteps, and the sound caused his eyes to flash and simmer with recognition before the anger, which rolled off of him in flames, settled to a kindling fire as he nodded in ascent.

Almost a show of acknowledgement, a performance of respect.

Daemon smirked, his own head nodding as he reluctantly relieved his sword of the force placed upon it.

They each stood back, shoulders rolling and necks twisting as they came to a stalemate.

Aemond had gotten a blow, had hurt Daemon, and made him bleed. But Daemon had promised to take it easy upon the boy, so truly by what means did the boy succeed.

"You idiots. The lot of you," Alaynha scolded as she reached their side, "what if you had hurt each other? More than you already have."

She glanced between them worried, her eyes falling upon the gash across Daemon's cheek that had crusted and dried but still twinged with pain when his lips stretched into a placating grin - "last I recall, this had been your suggestion."

"Mm, he is right, sister. You cannot fault us for adhering to your orders."

Alaynha's lips parted in disbelief at Aemond's words as she turned to his in faux betrayal, "are you taking his side over mine?"

Aemond smirked at the pout upon her lips, "try as I might, I fear no one holds my loyalties more than you, jorrāelagon mandia."

She hummed, eyeing him in exaggerated suspicion before a grin broke out on her face, "good."

Aegon drew closer upon Aemond's seeing side, clapping his brother on the shoulder and shaking him for good measure, "I believe the Hightowers have won this battle. Do not fret, nuncle. I am sure you will win something, some day."

"Aegon!" She could drag her hands down in exasperation, wondering why her brothers were so desperate to test and mock their uncle until he had enough and unleashed his wrath.

Before she could correct Aegon any further, Daemon drew closer and it did not go unnoticed by anyone how Aegon seemed to shrink behind Aemond, as the younger brother inched in front of the older.

Despite being the younger, one thing was certain - Aemond did not see an heir in Rhaenyra but in his brother and in himself. He may never get the crown, but Aegon could - and Aemond would do all he could to protect the Heir. To protect his brother.

Daemon simply tutted at the action, reaching over Aemond's shoulder to ruffle the shorter boy's hair as he squawked with indignation.

"Do not fault the boy, Zaldrītsos. He only defends his brother's honour - it is what Viserys would have done for me."

Aegon's face heated up at the words, flushing warm as he almost preened under his nuncle's praise, like a child. Perhaps he had already drank too much wine - yes, that must be why.

He escaped his nuncle's petting at the sound of Alaynha's quiet laugh and Aemond's shaking shoulders. He blew a huff of breath so the strands of hair that fell over his face would leave his vision free.

"I am not. I'm just mocking you."

"Ah, of course." Daemon consoled with a teasing grin, words much too enunciated to be well and true, "do forgive me, my Prince."

Aegon rolled his eyes, easily catching on to Daemon's own mocking tone and mumbled under his breath as he stepped away.

Aemond stepped back to follow him, "come sister, we promised mother we would dine with her for supper."

Alaynha hesitated for a moment, a soft frown upon her lips as she gazed at her uncle with gentle eyes. She bit her lip in contemplation, and Daemon found he could not tear his gaze away.

"I shall see you there, I fear Daemon's wound may need some tending."

There it was again, his name - so tantalising, the sound, as it dripped from her tongue.

"Then let the maester deal with him," Aemond spoke in annoyance.

"The maester has much more urgent dealings. It is a simple wound, I shall treat him and join you."

Aemond opened his mouth, ready to protest that if it truly was such a simple wound, Daemon should be able to treat it well himself. But his sister looked at him pleadingly, and he simply pursed his lips and nodded in ascent.

As he turned away, Alaynha hesitated for a second longer before stepping forward and calling out to him - "please let muña know Daemon will be joining us."

She watched Aemond's shoulders stiffen at the order, but knew her brother would never argue with her over such a small and measly thing. He once again nodded his head, waiting for Aegon to swipe his jug of wine before they made their way to their mother's chambers.

Alaynha turned in the opposite direction, only passing a glance over her shoulder to meet Daemon's intense gaze - "come."

***

Daemon sat upon the Princess' bed, his body rigid and tense as he watched her move and gather items scattered across the room.

Whilst Daemon remained in his leathers, she had changed into something much more akin to that of a princess.

Daemon had almost prayed to the Seven to stop his aching thoughts and traiterous body, the temptation to walk behind the dressing screen and see her bare body tremble beneath his gaze.

He had held off long enough, growing hard and stiff beneath his breeches as the dressing screen was almost transparent and gave way to the very shape of the girl hidden behind mounds of fabric.

The gown she wore now was simple, but the material itself was still expensive - a soft satin, perhaps even silk.

As she drew towards him, Daemon couldn't help but part his legs open, ready for her to slot herself between them. She cleared her throat quietly as she stepped in the gap he had made, placing her gathered items next to him upon the bed.

He looked up at her, unable to stop himself from admiring the soft planes of her face, her sharp jaw, her full cheeks, the blush that stained her lips, the eyes that almost gleamed in the light of a setting sun.

When Alaynha peered down to meet his gaze, a damp cloth held in her hand, her breath caught in her throat at the intensity of it, eyes welling with infatuation.

Curiosity, he corrected.

She blinked vigorously, eyelashes fluttering furiously as her hand almost trembled when she took a hold of his face. Her skin felt soft against his flesh, dragging from his hollowed cheeks to rest upon his angled jaw and tilt his fierce gaze away from her own that was growing timid and shy.

The one holding the damp cloth dipped the fabric in a small bowl of warm water, reaching up to brush softly against his gash. Daemon held back a wince, but she could feel the way his jaw flexed in her grasp as he clenched his teeth in pain.

"Sorry," she whispered into the quiet between them.

"You should be." Daemon had meant to mumble the words quietly, but she had heard them all the same.

She frowned at the silent accusation, "excuse me? I do not need to help you. I could always call the maester if you prefer."

Daemon sighed, eyes closing as he realised he had spoken his words much too loud, "I only meant, I would not have gotten this injury was it not for you."

Her head twisted in confusion, stopping her ministrations of cleaning Daemon's gash so she could tap him lightly upon the cheek to gain his attention.

His eyes opened immediately, meeting her questioning gaze as he let out a breath in a huff of amusement, "if it wasn't for that pretty laugh of yours, perhaps I wouldn't have gotten distracted enough to allow my tempered nephew to land a blow."

Her face flushed deeply at his words, eyes rolling as a scoff spilt past her lips, "all I hear are some silly excuses, kepus."

"If it were up to me, I would lock you in my chambers and leave you there, needy and willing, so you never laugh alongside another man again."

He couldn't help the jealousy that tainted his words, couldn't help but tease and test her boundaries once more.

Her hands trembled in truth now as she picked up a small bowl of ointment, dotting it over the gash with a soft touch.

"You speak out of turn, uncle," but her voice still shook under his burning gaze.

"And you do not speak enough. Perhaps you worry of all the others who have been in my chambers, locked away just as I wish you were."

"Perhaps you grow too confident in your own charms and wiles," she sniped as she rubbed the ointment in with care.

"Perhaps."

There was a beat of silence, but his eyes never left hers. Even as she collected her balms and ointments, holding them close to her chest, he watched her.

And when she was ready to step away, he held her waist and pulled her close. Her breath caught in her throat and he simply waited.

Alaynha knew what he waited for, knew what he sought.

She also knew she could not give him such a thing, not when he was wed to her sister - not when he already had a child on the way.

"I am not one of your whores."

"I would never wish you to be."

His voice was earnest, stubborn.

Curiosity, he justified.

She sighed, her hand resting upon his injured cheek and gently rubbing circles upon his skin as his eyes closed as the sensation, her voice was almost a whisper, "my mother must be waiting for us."

And with that she stepped away, and Daemon's hands fell into his lap.

In that moment, Daemon truly did send a prayer to the Seven and begged them to bless him with morals and strength for even he knew his curiosity was giving way to darker desires he would soon be unable to ignore.

An infatuation grew within him. A simmering and burning and aching infatuation- obsession.

If you guys made it to the end, I hope you enjoyed the long read! Thank you to everyone who has engaged with this story by liking, reblogging, and commenting!! I promise to try and update this series more regularly <3

Taglist: @kelssssxd @esquivelbianca @chynagirl13 @luanasrta @kemillyfreitas @americanprometheuss @clarap23 @pet1t3 @your-favorite-god @hypocritic-trash-baby @esquivelbianca @serving-targaryen-realness @toji-girl @queenmendes @the-lil-spud @hotvillainapologist

[shit-people-probably-didnt-say]

Any soft Wesper kid HC or prompts? I’ve always imagined Wespers kid as struggling to read just like Wylan and not fully understanding it. They just know that “Da reads everything for Dad” and growing up in a much healthier environment than Wylan they dont grow up with the same low self esteem issues and instead the idea that love is someone willing to read to you. They hope that in the future they find someone like that for themselves. IDK I’m a sucker for breaking they cycle lol

Aw Id love to share some soft Wesper Kid HCs!

Apologies for the delay in answering Ive had this in my drafts so I can build on it

- Wesper kid is an early riser and often wakes before his Dads, so the only sensible thing to do is bring his favourite book or toy and climb into their bed with them. They often spend the entire morning on off days just lounging in bed

- Swimming lessons! Being so close to canals and the harbour (and that swimming once saved his Pa’s life) having the Wesper Kid know how to swim and be confident in water is extremely important to them

- Ive always imagined if the Wesper kid had a cognitive disability it would be colourblindness or ADHD. Where his Da is the hyperactive sort he is the inattentive type and can struggle to sit for lessons without his mind wondering. So to help him they adjust his school day. They give him more frequent breaks in class and bigger gaps in-between lessons with lots of outside play, and they find tutors who teach in a very practical way to keep him engaged

- Wesper kids favourite animals are rabbits, little bit of Aditi coming to him. Jesper also sings Zemeni lullabies and reads him all his favourite stories from his childhood. Wesper kid becomes their ‘little rabbit’ and Grandma Aditi is well known in their home

- Ive love the idea that theres no shame or secret regarding Wylan not reading. Kids accept the world as it’s presented to them so he wouldnt think anything unusual of it. When it comes time to do homework or bedtime stories theres no hush-hush that only Da can read to him. But Wylan of course memorises bedtime stories and is Wesper kids go to for math/science homework

- Wesper kid has his Da’s energy and his Pa’s musical interest…which results in him wanting to learn the drums. Jesper is overjoyed, Wylan is of course delighted and supportive but makes a mental note to get ear plugs as a kid learning percussion can be quite overstimulating for autistic people

- As much as Wylan is dead set on gentle parenting that doesn’t mean it’s easy. When you’re brought up with harsh treatment and are used to that being ‘normal’, it takes daily conscious effort to break that cycle. He never ever lays a harsh hand or word on their son, but he does have to take time outs occasionally to gather himself on rough days. Its retraining mental instinct but he would do it a million times over for his son to feel safe and loved

- Wesper kid is asthmatic/anaemic like his Pa. Id love a fic of the first time the kid becomes really unwell with the flu or lung fever and Wylan & Jesper are just losing their minds. Luckily Nana Marya is there to help calm new parent worries and pass along some tips on soothing a poorly child

I may continue to add to this, but this is what I have at the moment 💕

[stinkrascal]

i got really sick this morning lol so i spent the morning fixing up my oc page for ocs who arent related to ts4/the strauds!! check it out if u want :-)

[filthyjoetini]

whats UP ive got a request, are you ready? so, it's game night and you play the newly wed game and you and joe SUCK balls at it, it's like you don't even KNOW each other (food for lots of bickering on the way home) but then, at home, joe's like, "let me show you how well i know you" 😏😏😏 turns out, your friends were just asking you the wrong questions heheheheh

Quit Playing Games (With My Heart)

a/n: Thank you so much for your request, babe! I had a field trip with this one....and it took me ages because things happened (saw the lad irl, didn't help...like AT ALL, then work and life and everything happened at once). The usual big thank you goes out to my bby @barfightzanddiscolightz. You da best! (music! DJ Khaled!)

warnings: embarrassment, smut (minors DNI), a pinch of drama (wouldn't be one of my stories if there weren't any drama)

wordcount: 3.7k

Restless in your seat, your irritation intensified by the minute. It was your monthly game night with the two other couples Joe and you had known for years. The newlyweds Amy and Rory, who had nailed the game at their wedding, were the masterminds behind tonight’s entertainment: The Newlywed Game. They were killing it; it was almost corny. Adam and Ethan, the second couple who had been inseparable since secondary school, were also acing it. Their smug grins made your stomach churn. But Joe and you? God. You were awful at it. The contrast between your faltering answers and the other couples‘ flawless performances couldn‘t have been more evident. Game night had never seemed so high-stakes before.

Joe and you were sat across from each other as you faced your relentless gamemaster Ethan. You were five out of 20 questions into the game, which meant each of you would be asked ten. However, the scoreboard was anything but in your favour, you had only managed to get two answers right whilst Joe had gotten none. Incredulously, you stared at him letting out a humourless chuckle, as he got yet another answer wrong. You still had 14 questions in total to go, and the odds seemed increasingly stacked against you.

“Incorrect…again.”, Ethan muttered with a frown on his face. His eyes, which held nothing but compassion and confusion, were set on you.

What the hell was going on? Joe and you had been together for four years and you knew each other inside and out… or so you thought.

“Babe…”, you groaned slightly, staring at him with wide eyes and downturned lips.

“What?”, Joe asked you, mirroring your stare, opening his eyes even wider than yours. His lips, however, were set in a broad grin.

You didn’t answer him verbally but just kept staring at him in disbelief.

“What?”, his smile faltered, and an irritated expression took its place. Before he continued, he took a swig of his beer. “How am I supposed to know what superpower you want to have? We’ve never spoken about this.”

“Yes, we have…”, you started to argue back when Ethan quickly asked the next question.

“This one’s for you.”, he said, pointing in your direction. “What thing/ability/possession of yours would Joe like to have for himself.”

Fuck. This was hard. Joe had everything he could ask for in a materialistic and financial sense, so maybe an ability. You thought long and hard, trying to ignore the whispers from Rory, Amy, and Adam who were sat directly behind Joe. You finally wrote down the answer on one of the notecards you had been provided with.

My ability to say “no”.

Joe couldn’t say no if his life depended on it, which made it very easy for you to get your way. This is how you had ended up with a booking.com account full of planned city trips.

Slowly, you slid your notecard over to Ethan, who picked it up to read the question out loud again.

“The question was “What thing/ability/possession of yours would Joe like to have for himself.” and you said: “My ability to say “no.” … Joe’s answer is: “Your magnificent boyfriend.” … I’m so sorry, zero points again.”

You clenched your jaw tightly, trying hard not to let your irritation show even further. Your magnificent boyfriend? What kind of stupid answer is that? Yeah, Joe is a very decent and loving boyfriend but what makes him think he’s that magnificent? Everyone has flaws! You would have to have a word with him when you got home. This was getting really fucking embarrassing.

Rory, Amy, and Adam were now sniggering behind Joe, as he giggled at the wrong answer, totally oblivious to your growing annoyance.

“Next question.” Ethan announced with a chuckle of his own. Great, you had now totally become the joke of the night. You could bet your reputation as the game night’s laughingstock was secure for the next month until the next gathering.

“Joe.”

“Hi!”

“The question is: What’s her favourite yogurt topping?”

Joe grinned, quickly scribbled down his answer, and shoved it into Ethan’s hand before he picked up his pint of beer and took a huge gulp of it. Good. He had to know this. You ate yogurt every morning and one topping was always on it. Sometimes even he would make you your bowl of yogurt and he always topped it off with it. It was honey.

Ethan cleared his throat and repeated the question and then revealed the responses:

“Joe, you wrote down “Smarties” … and her answer is “Honey” … NIL POINTS! AGAIN!”

SMARTIES?! Who the hell puts Smarties on their yogurt? Does he think I’m a child? You were fuming inside and let out a frustrated huff through your nose, glaring daggers at Joe.

Grabbing your white wine spritzer, you tried to drown out your exasperation, but Amy, Rory, Adam, and Ethan were now fully laughing, and to your bewilderment Joe was too. You swallowed down the scream you wanted to let out along with your beverage and inhaled deeply. 12 more questions to go. You could do this. Also, you were both slightly tipsy and it was just a stupid game. No need to get all upset about it. You tried to persuade yourself but deep down, it bothered you to no end.

---

Joe and you had lost game night. In the end you had gotten six out of ten points and Joe had managed to get one answer right. He had been pretty proud of himself for it. Even took a victory lap and placed a sloppy kiss to your lips.

With your arms crossed tightly, you strode a few steps ahead of Joe, practically marching towards the tube station. It wasn‘t anger driving you forward, but rather embarrassment.

“Baby. Slow down!”, he shouted after you, but you didn’t oblige and just kept walking. Once you had made it to the entrance of the tube station, you opted for the stairs instead of the escalator and took two steps at the time.

“Babe. Please wait up!”

At the foot of the stairs, you came to a sudden stop. Joe almost bumped into you with full force but was able to catch himself by holding onto your shoulders.

You shrugged off his hands instantly and slowly turned to face him.

“What the fuck was that, Joe?”

“What was what?”, he questioned, confusion evident on his face.

“Your answers!”, you replied, letting out a frustrated sigh. “They were all wrong!”

“Untrue, I got one right— Ow!”

You slapped his shoulder, hard.

“Christ, babe. No need for violence.”, he pouted, rubbing his shoulder excessively. You were still standing at the foot of the stairs as people passed you to the left and right.

“We’ve talked about most of those things before. I can’t believe you got them all wrong. It’s like you don’t even know me!”, you explained, voicing your frustration. “It was really fucking embarrassing.”

“Oh baby.”, Joe cooed, wrapping his arms around you, gently pressing you against his broad chest. “It’s just a stupid game. I was obviously not taking it seriously and I’m rather squiffed, which, I know isn’t an excuse, but I know you don’t put smarties on your yogurt.”

With your face squished against his pecs, you let out a soft snort.

“That’s the answer you’re going to rectify? There were other answers that were way worse. Also, I don’t know if you noticed but I took the game seriously.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”, he apologised, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Come on, let’s get going, our train’s due in a couple of minutes.”

With his arm around your shoulders, Joe led you away from the stairs towards the platform.

Just as you rounded the corner, your train was approaching with as much ruckus as it could cause. That’s just the Northern Line, always noisy.

“…still.”, you stated over the noise with a pout which made Joe hum out a short “hmm?“ and looked down at you.

He let out an exaggerated gasp when he saw your face, lowered his lips to your ear and spoke in a low growl: “When we’re home, I’m gonna show you how well I know you. I promise.”

---

As soon as you both had kicked off your shoes, and the door to your flat had fallen shut behind you, Joe pressed you against the wall, peppering your neck and mostly the spot beneath your ear with needy kisses. Each nip on your skin elicited a soft moan from you which he reciprocated with a groan of his own.

“Fuck!”, he groaned against your skin. “I need you. Right now!”

“Then take me.”, you teased him, breathing hard.

You didn’t need to tell him twice. Joe hoisted you up and you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. As quickly as he could, he carried you over to your bedroom and kicked the door open, throwing you onto the bed. The springs in your mattress creaked almost comically which made you giggle softly.

Pushing yourself up on your shoulders, you looked up at Joe who was staring down at you hungrily. His eyes were glossed over with want, and you could see that he was undressing you mentally by the way they were roaming your body.

You gave him a nod, accompanied by a sly smirk which was enough to make him move towards you.

You quickly unbuttoned your trousers and pushed them down your legs whilst Joe removed his polo shirt which he ungracefully threw behind him on the floor. Joe noticed that your trousers were stuck at your ankles and moved to pry them off with skilful hands. He then glided his hands up along your legs to your hips and pinched you there which made you yelp in return. Moving his hands up further, he pushed your top up over your stomach and pressed nibbling kisses along it. Leaning back, he motioned for you to hold up your arms so he could remove the garment from your body completely.

You were now dressed only in your underwear whilst he was still wearing his ill-fitting blue jeans.

“Do you need help with them?”, you questioned him fervently nodding at his jeans. He responded by sucking his lower lip into his mouth and a curt nod. You grinned wickedly and shook your head before you got up on your knees and swiftly undid the button, yanking down the jeans over his hips and bum.

The evidence of how much he wanted you was clearly visible and restrained inside his boxer briefs which made you bite your lower lip in anticipation.

Bending forward a bit, you pushed the jeans further down his thighs and over his knees until you came face to face with his hard-on. You cackled again and Joe wiggled out of his denims, deliberately pushing his groin into your cheek.

He grinned down at you and the predicament you found yourself in.

“Nu-uh. Not so fast.”, you chuckled, leaning back on your haunches again. “I’ll get to that later…eventually.”

With a widened grin, all Joe did, was raise an eyebrow at you. You both knew that you would definitely rather than eventually get to that later.

Joe then beckoned you to lay down on your back which you immediately did. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, he began moving forward, slowly crawling towards you.

He was hovering above you, both hands on your hips with his fingers hooked in the waistband of your knickers.

“May I?”

“If you must.”

Rolling his eyes at your bratty answer and with a couple of yanks, he managed to get them off you.

“Those are always so hard to get off.”, he complained, dropping your knickers to the floor next to the bed. “Next time I’m just gonna rip them apart.”

“Don’t you dare, Joseph Quinn.”, you threatened with a glare.

“I won’t. Don’t worry.”, he chuckled, moving his head slowly towards yours to give you a soft peck on your lips. “Your bra on the other hand.”

“JOE!”

“I’m kidding. Please sit up.”

You pushed yourself up, wrapping your arms around Joe’s torso whilst he moved his hands to your back to unclasp your bra. Unwrapping your arms from around him, you shrugged off your bra which fell into your lap. Joe picked it up and haphazardly threw it onto the floor where it joined the rest of your clothes.

Joe wrapped one arm around you and lay you down on your back again. He eased his arm from around you and moved to sit on his haunches with his legs tucked beneath them, taking in your body in all your naked glory.

“You’re naked.”, he stated the obvious. It was now his turn to bite his lower lip.

“And you’re still in your pants.”, you responded with a smirk, getting ready to sit up again to help him remove his last item of clothing.

Tutting he pushed you back down again.

“I will get rid of them soon but first let me show you how well I know you. I promised, I would.”

Moving forward again, he placed his face in the crook of your neck and started pressing another round of kisses to it, this time the light nibbles turned into more forceful bites. He was kissing from behind your ear down to your shoulder where he sucked the skin into his mouth before trailing his lips to your clavicle where he bit down hard, surely leaving a bruise.

When he moved his lips to your right breast, he closed his mouth around your nipple and sucked hard, coaxing yet another moan from the depth of your throat. Letting go of your nipple with a pop, he kissed it once more before moving to the other one, giving it the exact same treatment.

In the meantime, one of Joe’s hands, which he had previously placed on your knee was currently wandering up your thigh between your legs where its fingers clearly felt how much you needed him whilst his other hand was holding yours in a firm grasp.

Joe removed his hand from between your legs and rubbed his fingers together. They were totally wet with your slick which made him grin against your left boob. Giving it one last open-mouthed kiss, he moved his mouth to your belly and dragged his tongue and teeth down the length of it, over your abdomen and your mound before eventually clamping it over your core.

He sucked and lapped at your lower lips and never neglecting your bundle of sensitive nerves as if he hadn’t eaten in days.

Your free hand came to rest on the crown of his head, grabbing a handful of his luscious curls in an iron grip.

“Joe…”, you whimpered, releasing the air from your lungs in shallow breaths. “Fingers. NOW!”

Joe nodded against your labia, his nose slowly dragging over it and swiftly inserted two whole fingers into your pussy which made you gasp out in pleasure. Slowly, he started to move his fingers with his mouth still hard at work.

With each pump of his fingers, you not so gently pulled at his hair, coaxing groans from his throat which made you clench your thighs around his head, holding him in position.

In no time, he had you on the brink of an orgasm and when the knot, that had formed inside your belly came loose, you let out a screaming moan.

He was guiding you through your orgasm and lapped up your juices when you finally came down from it. Trembling, you let go of his hair and pushed him from between your legs by his forehead, panting hard and covering your face with your now free hand. Looking at Joe from between your fingers, he chuckled at your actions and sat up again, licking his fingers clean, which turned your already flushed face a shade darker.

You closed your eyes, trying to get your breathing back to normal when you heard Joe letting out a small groan. Peeking through your fingers again, you saw him adjust himself inside his briefs with his very wet free hand.

Letting go of his other hand, which you almost squished to death during your orgasm, you eventually found the strength to push yourself up on your knees again. Now it was your turn to get him out of his fabric prison. Slowly you put your hands on the hem of his pants and pushed them down, letting his rock-hard cock spring free. You pushed them down even further to his thighs, which you tapped with your fingers to make him stand on his knees. When you couldn’t get them down his calves he grunted and yanked them off his legs himself.

As soon as his underwear was on the floor, you placed an eager kiss to his soft yet defined belly, before moving your lips to the tip of his penis, placing an equally eager one there before very gently grazing your teeth across it. He let out a shuddering breath that sounded like a “fuck”, which encouraged you to place your hand on his shaft and slowly pumping up and down whilst you took more of him into your mouth, bobbing your head in the same motion as your hand.

One of his hands moved to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair to hold onto you. Your ministrations to his dick elicited the most delicious moans from him. You loved making him moan like that. It’s like a reward and to return this reward you started to use your tongue which in turn made him moan even harder.

After a couple of minutes, he suddenly tugged on your hair a little too harsh which educed a small whimper from you. You let go of his dick with a filthy slurp and smiled up at him.

“I gotta…”, he panted, slowly pushing you on your arse.”…be inside you.”

Giggling, you let yourself fall back again, spreading your legs for him. He quickly positioned himself between them and pushed inside you with one swift move. You let out the longest and most obscene moan he had ever had the pleasure of getting out of you.

“That’s right.”, he smirked, leaning forward to capture your lips in a ravenous kiss.

“…don’t move yet.”, you whispered against his lips, slightly wiggling your bum and trying to adjust to him being inside of you. After a couple of heartbeats, you nodded at him, and he started to move in a hard but steady rhythm. Quickly, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him atop of you, dragging your fingernails across his back, leaving behind trails of reddened skin.

In response, one of Joe’s hands was placed on your hip, holding it in a vicelike grip which would leave fingerprint-like bruises behind, trying to steady you. With the other one, he was quick to use his skilful fingers yet again and had you on the verge of your second orgasm in no time. As his thumb was rubbing at your clit, your thighs started to spasm and your moans got even louder.

“Joe! Baby! I’m about to…”, you yelled, coming before you got the chance to finish your sentence. Your orgasm quickly triggered his and he was not far behind. With short grunts, you felt him come inside before, completely out of breath, he collapsed on top you, fully closing the small distance that was left before.

“Fuck.”, you panted, tightening your arms around him and placing soft kisses to his forehead.

“Yeah…fuck.”, he chuckled, kissing the skin of your sternum where he had decided to rest his head.

---

Wrapped in your duvet and basking in the afterglow, Joe was placing delicate kisses along your arm and the back of your hand.

“Honey.”

“Huh?”, you questioned him. You were confused. He never called you honey. Darling sometimes. Usually, babe or baby. But never honey.

“Your favourite yogurt topping. It’s honey, specifically the dark blossom honey.”, he explained, placing a soft kiss to the heel of your hand, moving up to place another kiss to your thumb’s fingertip. “…and your ability to say “no” is what I’d like to have for myself. Because it would do me good to say no at least once…”, a kiss to the fingertip of your index finger, “…you are an early riser whilst I wouldn’t even hear the EAS alarm…”, a kiss to your middle finger’s tip, “…your childhood pet was a bunny named Scamper…”, a soft peck to your ring finger, “…your favourite film is Forrest Gump and it always makes you cry like a baby…”, and finally, a lingering kiss to your pinky,”…and your hidden talent is that you somehow manage to find a correlation between every fucking thing. It’s insane and I love it.”

He was correctly answering some of the questions from earlier, even with additional information. Of course, he knows you. Having doubted him made you feel really shitty now.

“…baby.”, you cooed at him, sitting up and taking his hand in yours. You kissed the back of his hand and eventually leaned in to place your mouth against his, kissing him hard. He instantly deepened it, moving his hand to your neck and pulled you in closer.

Out of breath, you pulled back a little, rubbing your nose against his. “I love you. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“And I love you.”, he replied, capturing your lips in another kiss. “Ahhh, it’s nothing…see, I told you I know you…I just needed a little physical reminder, is all.”

“Fuck off, Joe.”, you giggled, letting go of his hand and pushing him away from you immediately, smacking his arm playfully. “I’ll give you a different physical reminder if you don’t stop that.”

“Ha! I’d like to see you try.”, he challenged, and you chortled, smacking the spot once more.

“Ow! Okay. I’ll stop.”, he surrendered, holding up his hands in defence with a huge smirk on his lips.

“Good.”

“Good. I love you.”, he ensured you once more.

“And I love you.”

THE END

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[maukiki1-but-cringefail]

i swear to fucking god im not a hater but if i see another fucking badly-made thumbnail boring neurotypical straight guy with lame monotone voice talking over buncha mfb clips video of the worst metal fight beyblade takes ive ever seen with the unfunniest jokes im gonna rearrange the DNA sequence of the closest person to me to that of a Doto greenamyeri nudibranch because i swear to god just shut the fuck up.

how the fuck do you meatheads base how much you like a character over powerscaling and win ratio. would you prefer a wild bear over your own mother because the bear is stronger than her? thats how you fuckin sound like. i gotta rant this shit out because i had enough if i hear another fucking "ryūga da goat🥶🐐" "beyblade really is that serious🤣" "This show is so acoustic😵" "did you know that moses split the sea with a be-" WE FUCKING KNOW THE WHOLE WORLD KNOWS AT THIS POINT. ALSO IF YOU DEADASS USE AUTISM AS AN INSULT LET ALONE USE THE WORD ACOUSTIC OR ARTISTIC FOR IT STAY 7 KILOMETERS AWAY FROM ME AND ALSO DONT WATCH METAL FIGHT BEYBLADE EVERYONE IS GAY AND AUTISTIC YOU KNOW WHY⁉️ which cishet neurotypical out there makin spinning tops fight with neon green or blue whateverthefuck hair half the cast looks like they been hiding in closet before their debut episode.

PRIME example of these bad takes is , because of powerscaling again the hate on masamune ? i thought people hated him because they thought he was annoying (like how i did when i first watched it when i was little) (FOUR YRS OLD) and like id get that as in he talks alot or whatever but people hate him because. fucking. "he has a low win ratio and claims to be the number one blader" BITCH THATS A 15 YR OLD. or like around that age somewhere you get the point. so what if the taco doritos colour palette guy a little confident in himself bitch you hate fun you hate sillyness. people also use him as like a tool to praise kenta? constantly i see takes like "kenta is like masamune if masamune didnt suck" or something as in they both try to rise to the top and get stronger but one of them doesnt talk shit like did you know you can praise a character without putting down the other one motherfucker. another one is "masamune isnt a legendary blader because he talks shit but cant actually back it up" Hey my brother in Allah lets play a little game. which one of the fucking legendary bladers talks big about himself. you have ten seconds. 10...9...8....KING. KING IS RIGHT THERE .

also saw someone say damian shouldve been a legendary blader⁉️⁉️mf that boy was on rearrangement stereoids the effects of that wouldve already worn off by the time of metal fury how does that even WORKK😭😭 he was probably off with 3 big fucking pet dogs to eat custard pudding or sumn idk .Ryūga dickriding has been a thing for for ever but right now for some reason people decided they didnt talk about that guy enough. theres so many videos on him guys there are other characters to talk about i can write a three billion word essay on damian but i dont think i can say anything about ryūga that hasnt been said at this point. also the people who claim hes alive BECAUSE hes alive in the manga is crazy like yall cant see those as two different universes? im not saying wether if i think hes alive or not this isnt about that dont miss the point. i wanted to make text posts about mfb for forever but i was embarrased for god knows why so i just posted my mfb fanart on my main but i cant take it anymore (eatina burger with no honey mustard) must speak this time im afraid

also sorry if this is hard to read im not good at ending sentences where i should punctuation jumpscare. powerscaling mfs will hear u say u like a character like for example tsubasa or sumn and immediately bring up ryūga like shut the fuck up this shit happened on twitter i dont even use twitter i opened the app for 000.1 seconds. you just jelaous ryūga will never serve like did mf also im not a ryūga hater anyways i reached the character limit fuck