#like i think it should be tagged separately

[heechwe]

lost in wonderland | 𝐩𝐬𝐡

୨୧ pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 12k ୨୧ genre: smut, semi-angst, fluff ୨୧ tags: mentions of drug use, fake dating au, rockstar!sunghoon, popstar!reader, enemies to lovers au, jerk to down bad sunghoon, pet names (baby, doll, love, etc.), dirty talk, nipple play, oral (f receiving), belly bulging, spanking, unprotected sex, creampie ୨୧ synopsis: Park Sunghoon, one half of popular rock band Into Eden, is on thin ice with his management and the general public. What does his manager Jay decide to do? Set him up with the leader of rising pop girl group PrismHeart. And while it starts as two stubborn people living in a lie, growing feelings cannot hold anything but the truth. ➸ This one's dedicated to my lovely betas: Ley @pars-ley), Ally @lovetaroandtaemin, Kiki @wonwovy, & Lola @monamipencil)! I'm so grateful to y’all and the love you’ve given this story; I hope everyone else loves it too �� Also the ending song and inspiration for the title is from Boys Like Girls's song "Lost in Wonderland"!

“PARK SUNGHOON: ANOTHER HEARTBREAK UNDER HIS BELT?”

“IS HEESEUNG TIRED OF HIS BANDMATE’S GAMES? IS ‘INTO EDEN’ IN TROUBLE OF DISBANDING?”

“DID SUNGHOON RUIN ANOTHER GIRL GROUP, AND HIS EX’S CAR?”

Sunghoon laughs at the headlines plastered across his manager’s desk. The gossip rags are the only vibrant thing in the office, the monochrome black and white color scheme creating a strict atmosphere that suffocates the rock star to no end. Who knew such bullshit could provide such humor? 

The sound dies on Sunghoon’s tongue when he sees Jay’s displeasure pervade the older man’s entire face. His arms are crossed, and Sunghoon can see the veins in Jay’s neck tighten.

“You think this is funny?” Jay asks, his voice even-keeled, but his body language anything but.

“No, Mr. Park.”

“Hoon.” Jay says his talent’s name with admonishment. He sits back down in his chair across from Sunghoon, the large desk separating them. “You know I hate when you call me that.”

“What should I call you, Mr. Park? Bro? Dude? J-Man?”

Jay can’t help the chuckle on his lips, but he shuts it down to go back to the discussion at hand. “Simply put, the label’s pissed. All that we should see two months before your tour is good press, not this shit. And you know Yeji is going to do more than just comment in a couple of tabloids.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “She has nothing to say, besides the fact that it ended mutually.”

“You call making out with Lia ‘ending mutually’?”

Sunghoon raises his hands in defense, a smirk on his lips. “Don’t know what you were told, but that happened after we broke up.”

“Okay, that’s it.” Jay takes the multitude of tabloids and throws them in the trash next to his desk. “The label is going to chop my balls off if I don’t fix the problems you created.”

Sunghoon, in his mind, isn’t a problem child, per se. He simply pales in comparison to his golden boy best friend and musical partner, Lee Heeseung. It isn’t his fault that Heeseung is squeaky clean. The only crazy thing the guy has ever done was dye his hair red for their recent cover shoot. 

Sure, Heeseung has been committed to one person for years, long before the two men ever became a name in the public eye. The guy never partakes in recreational activities, choosing to spend his free time with his girlfriend or in video game chat rooms rather than in nightclubs like his counterpart. And he’s always been a media darling, giving signed photos to fans and providing the paparazzi with his undivided attention without complaint.

 Sunghoon likes to live without restrictions or red tape. If he has to be judged for that, constantly not measuring up to the pedestal his best friend lives on, so be it.

“It’s time for Plan B,” Jay says, breaking Sunghoon from his thoughts.

After Sunghoon’s brows furrow in confusion, Jay turns on the TV stationed behind his desk. The news video on display shows the members of PrismHeart, the label’s rising girl group, attending the AMAs with bright smiles and matching sparkly ensembles.

“This is Plan B?” Sunghoon asks, releasing a breathless laugh.

“No.” Jay points to you in the center of the LED screen. Your hair billows in the wind as your face shines with the same quality of the cameras capturing your essence on the red carpet.

Sunghoon is taken aback by you without hearing you speak a single word, and he suspects something devious brewing behind his manager’s eyes when he says, “She is.”

The nightclub is packed with D-list celebrities and upcoming starlets, ready to post to their respective social media accounts. With the right touch, the news will work its way to the trending page without fail.

Thankfully, Jay, Sunghoon’s manager, knows how to set the scene for a piece of tabloid fodder. It’s part of his job to make sure that, for better or worse, Sunghoon gets his time in the spotlight.

As for you, all you’re expected to do is mingle with your new “boyfriend,” look pretty in your little black dress, and set the trap. 

You asked your own manager, Momo, if you could bring one of the girls along to break the ice and make the “meet cute” look more believable, and both she and Jay agreed.

So here you are, sitting across from Yujin with a strawberry martini in one hand and your cellphone in the other, waiting for the signal.

“He is pretty cute. You can’t deny that.” Yujin scrolls through Sunghoon’s Instagram feed, multiple gym pics and rehearsal photos lining the grid of his main profile.

When Momo produced Jay’s offer to her, she marketed it to you as the perfect way for PrismHeart to skyrocket from simmering stardom into true mega-fame. All it took was a handful of white lies and scheduled meetups. No harm, no foul, right?

Like a devoted group leader, hands in your lap and a demure smile on your face, you said yes. You would do anything for your team and the girls who were your second family at this point. Not disclosing the truth was an easy thing to do, and nobody’s feelings would be sacrificed in the process.

It would also be a welcome distraction from the destruction of your last relationship. The back and forth with Jake proved to be too much on both your work and personal lives, 7 months of happiness leading to a slow and bitter end.

Maybe a cute boy with no attachments and some light flirting could be a nice way to bounce back into the game. Then, when a real relationship would be possible for you again, you’d be ready.

You nod and take another sip of your drink, the alcohol leaving a burning aftertaste in your throat. “He is,” you agree. “He’s terrible at time management, though, clearly.”

Yujin rolls her eyes and continues scrolling. “Take off your micromanaging hat tonight, babe. Have fun. Kiss your new fake beau.”

“Say it louder,” you chide, lips on the rim of your glass again. The drink was taking the edge off of your nerves, but you still couldn’t shake the desire to make sure things went perfectly.

For both work and personal reasons, you need this to go off without a hitch.

A second later, your phone buzzes on the top of the bar. Sunghoon’s face lights up your screen, along with his message.

[Received at 10:46 PM]: Walking in with Jungwon. U?

You internally roll your eyes at the cryptic text. Jake was so good at making his messages personable, and although you could put a dagger in him for breaking your heart, the least you can do is recognize that was one of his better qualities.

You just hope Sunghoon is better in person than he is on the page. Or phone, so to speak.

[Sent at 10:48]: By the bar with Yujin.

Sunghoon saunters through the club’s double doors, the notorious half of Into Eden smiling ear to ear with his friend Jungwon in tow. Your ex Jake and Jungwon hung in similar circles due to their statuses as popular actors, but Jungwon was always nice when you ran into him.

He greets you with a smile but stops short when he sees your best friend, his cheeks turning a red hue. “Sorry, you’re just even more beautiful in person.”

As Yujin stutters over her next words, sharing a similar blush with the man in front of her, Sunghoon saunters over to your side and grins. As you look closer at him, you can discern the pink around his irises and the flimsy edges of his smile.

He’s high. So much rides on his cooperation on this plan and he’s fucking high?

“Park Sunghoon, pleased to meet you.” He gives your hand a sloppy kiss when your fingers link together in a handshake, and you retract immediately. Sunghoon pays no mind to your distaste, immediately ordering a beer and downing it the second it slides across the bar.

“Do you think you should be mixing alcohol with…whatever’s in your system?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Sunghoon winks at you and scoots closer on his barstool to you, tracing the skin of your thighs with his eyes. “I think this is the part where we dance?”

You scoff and down what’s left of your martini. You flag the bartender down for another, incredulous but trying to mask your anger with another drink. “Maybe we should get to know each other first?”

“What’s there to know? Jay gave me all the cliffnotes this morning. And we can just learn as we go, you know?”

A part of you wants to run into this without a roadmap, but it’s not in your nature. And it would be a lot easier to let yourself relax if you knew you were walking into this plan with a person as serious as you are about it.

But no, you get a stoned rockstar as your new “boyfriend” instead.

The bartender hands you your second martini, and you hop off the barstool with it in your hand. You take a light sip before you motion to the dance floor. “Let’s go.”

You have a tight grasp on the stem of your glass as Sunghoon takes your free hand to walk towards the dance floor. You notice Yujin and Jungwon dancing in a far corner together, the two of them hitting it off incredibly well.

Your hips sway to the song, your body trying to follow the music that’s thumping loudly through the speakers. It’s a remix you don’t recognize, but you enjoy it nonetheless. You smile as the pulse of the song thrums through your veins, your nerves at their lowest since arriving at the club.

What you don’t expect is for Sunghoon’s hands to settle on your hips, pulling you closer to fall into rhythm together. He moves well considering his prowess lies in rock rather than pop.

“You’re a pretty good dancer for a bassist,” you tease.

“I have a lot of talents,” he remarks back, the club lights gleaming across his face in purple and pink strobes.

He looks better in person than in all the interviews and tabloids you read prior to meeting him tonight. In your efforts to gain intel for the meetup, you couldn’t deny how well he cleaned up, even when he acted poorly.

The slosh of your drink makes you stop dancing for a second, and you laugh. “Probably shouldn’t have brought this on the–”

Sunghoon captures your lips in a searing kiss. The taste of ale lingers on your tongue the longer both of your mouths are linked. He is a good kisser, no doubt, but where does he get off assuming you wanted him to? All you had to show for tonight so far was some small conversation. Is that his typical green light to dive straight into making out? 

You immediately push him off, the contents of your martini glass spilling on him in the process. “What the hell?” Sunghoon asks, touching his jacket and feeling the leather soaked in sugary liquor.

You’re stunned at how brash yet nonchalant he is about what he just did, caring more for his clothes than your personal space that he just invaded. 

“You’re such a bastard,” you whisper loud enough for only Sunghoon to hear, his eyes immediately widening at your words. You walk away from him stunned and drop the glass on the counter where you were initially sitting. Not wanting to take Yujin away from her success of a night, you run outside to a handful of cameras flashing and your failure coating your skin.

Late into the next morning, you sip a hefty cup of tea for breakfast as you scroll through your latest mentions. The socials are blowing up from your recent outing with Yujin, Jungwon, and Sunghoon. You half expected to wake up to the ending of your career, but to your relief, the event was nothing short of a success.

Despite your embarrassment on the drive home and sadness before bed last night, your followers and many of Into Eden’s fans seem to have taken the bait. Some took shots of you exiting the nightclub, Sunghoon following shortly behind with a smile on his face. They also edited short clips of the two of you on the dance floor. Incredibly, none of them caught your mishap with your martini on video.

Better yet, they found the prospect of you and Sunghoon not just exciting but fitting somehow.

@edenenthusiast: hope she can whip him back into shape, miss the old hoon.

@sunghoonsluv71: sad he’s off the market but they’re actually cute together??? 

@prismshearts_09: she looks so happy!! suck it @jaeyun_sim.

In the next second, your phone blows up from a mention on Sunghoon’s most recent story. Your handle is hidden in a far corner of the black screen but the words plastered across the screen say everything they need to.

“Love at first spill? 🍸😏”

All of your band members and Momo light up your group chat with their excitement. In the chaos of the chat, you thumb-up a text from Yujin about Jungwon giving her his number.

Then, a single text pops up from Sunghoon that makes your glee transform into anxiety.

[Received at 11:52 AM]: Lunch on me? :/

You feel a part of your chest flutter. There’s a hope that maybe in the light of day you’ll get a chance to see the real Sunghoon. No drugs, no cameras, no need to impress. Maybe if he’s away from the attention, he’ll realize you deserve an apology for his actions.

[Sent at 11:56 AM]: Lunch and dinner or get lost.

You see the quick succession of bubbles following your text, his response hot on the heels of your last message that he reacts to with a laughing emoji.

[Received at 11:58] I think I can handle that.

You sit across from Sunghoon on the balcony of his apartment, two BLTs cooked to perfection on the patio table in front of you. He kept to his word, laying a spread of food out for you in exchange for your time.

You quirk an eyebrow. “Did you make these yourself?” You ask.

Sunghoon shakes his head, bashful. “Jay helped me. Not only is he a great manager, but he’s actually an amazing cook.”

You nod and smile, grabbing a bite as Sunghoon’s blush and your quiet chewing fills the silence.

“I wanted to say that yesterday got out of hand, and I shouldn’t have gotten wasted before meeting you. It was unprofessional, and I apologize.”

 You tap your fingers on the wicker table, your gut warning you to be cautious. “Did Jay tell you to say that?”

Sunghoon stutters on whatever words he planned to say next and quickly runs a hand through his hair. “I mean it, what difference does it make? I really am sorry, okay?”

You roll your eyes. “So you’re apologizing using someone else’s script? That’s supposed to make me believe you?”

Sunghoon scoffs and presses his palms to the table. “You’re fucking impossible, you know that?”

“I’m impossible because you got loaded and decided to stick your tongue down my throat? Oh, and I bet the next words out of your mouth were going to be how stubborn I am because I expected you to actually want to make up for how shit you acted last night.”

“Wow. Are you just mad because you didn’t expect to like me kissing you that much?” Sunghoon says his question with a pestering but sultry tone, the words completely rhetorical.

You huff and make your exit from the table. “Fuck this, I should never have come.”

Before you can walk away from the balcony, Sunghoon takes your wrist in his hand. His eyes express his frustration, his mouth in a grim line. “Don't leave, please. Can we just pretend that the last twelve hours never happened? Start from scratch. We both know we need each other here.”

You take a deep breath and cross your arms, walking back to your side of the table with a stone expression. “I think it’s a good idea to create some rules for…this arrangement.”

Sunghoon stares you down, still irritated but agreeable. “I’m all ears.”

“First and foremost,” you start, “whenever we’re scheduled to meet, no drugs. Do it in your spare time.”

Sunghoon nods. “That’s fair.”

“Second, no PDA unless there’s people around that need to notice it. And we have to agree on it before either one of us initiates anything.”

“What,” Sunghoon laughs, “like a secret bat signal?”

“Sure Batman,” you jest. Does he have to joke every time he decides to speak? Against your better judgment, a small piece of you finds it endearing.

He ponders the thought and then taps two fingers to the side of his neck. “How’s that?”

“Fine,” you agree. “Do you have any other rules you think we should add?”

The word “we” slips so easily from your tongue. In spite of the way he stirs up every ounce of frustration inside of you, already you see him on the same team as you. That has to be a good sign.

He rubs his index finger and thumb under his chin, half teasing but half reflecting on what he could add.

“Only one more thing,” Sunghoon says. “When we don’t have plans to spend time together, what we do in our private time is our business.”

You raise your hands. “Not a problem for me.”

Sunghoon reaches his hand across the table. “Deal?”

What the outcome of your arrangement will be besides the expected results remains up in the air. Whether it will reap what you want is really anyone’s guess. But if it means you do your duties as a good bandmate, you will take whatever comes at you.

You grasp his fingers in yours, shaking them gingerly. “Deal.”

Into Eden’s most popular song “Salvation” plays on the stereo speakers in the photography studio of Vogue magazine’s headquarters. The two men on set act incredibly comfortable, Heeseung’s arm wrapped around Sunghoon’s shoulder. The older musician’s red hair is stark against the chosen clothing for the shoot, but he makes it work.

He always does, Sunghoon thinks with a repressed sigh. His hair is slicked back in contrast to Heeseung’s messy mop of wind-blown tresses, creating the contrast between the two that highlights the shoot’s concept. TWO SOULS COLLIDE: THE LEADING MUSICIANS OF NEW AGE ROCK.

Sunghoon stays still for the next shot of him and Heeseung, but he can’t help himself from following you with his eyes when you enter the studio with a bag of breakfast treats and a to-go tray of coffees.

He did not expect to see you show up to his photoshoot, and Jay didn’t give him any warning for the event on his schedule being one you would share space with. He’s not against it though. In the sea of gray suits and media lackeys, you’re a breath of fresh air. You have already taken his attention away from the mundane nature of the task he’s assigned to complete today.

He can’t deny that Jay’s plan has already made shifts to his image in the public eye. It’s only been a week of public paparazzi candids and social media mentions shared between his and your accounts, and fans are eating it up.

And, though he might never say it out loud, something about your presence levels him in a way Jay’s and Heeseung’s doesn’t. He quantifies it to you also understanding the pressures of the music industry, the feeling of someone outside of his circle who can relate to him foreign but welcome. Your relationship may be manufactured, but he has to look at the positives it’s already created in his life.

Jay runs over to you with a bright smile. “You’re an angel, thank you.”

You grin and take a breakfast sandwich from the bag to give to Sunghoon’s manager. “Least I could do for a member of my boyfriend’s camp.”

Jay winks over the rim of his coffee cup and goes back to the photographer’s side, overseeing the shots with a bit of sausage sticking out of his mouth.

You give Sunghoon a slight wave and stay a few steps away from the large lights capturing the shadows and highlights on the men’s faces.

You haven’t met Heeseung up to this point, so interacting with Sunghoon’s bandmate will add a new dimension to your “relationship.”

In contrast with Sunghoon, Heeseung exudes seriousness in every movement. You’re unsure if it’s because of his maturity or dedication to everything he does, similar to yourself, but it shows in the way the men stand next to each other. Where Sunghoon is fluid like water, transforming into whatever he needs to be, Heeseung is stoic and certain of himself, solid like a stone.

You wonder how such different people managed to be friends and bandmates. Then again, you’re in a group with four other girls, and your personalities are anything but similar.

“Alright, I think it’s time for individual shots. Mr. Park, we’ll do yours first!”

Heeseung runs to his chair in front of the vanity. It’s set up in a corner of the room for retouching his and Sunghoon’s hair and makeup. He beckons you over with a polite smile, and you oblige the silent request.

“Sorry I haven’t been able to greet you since you came in. You know how it is,” Heeseung’s lips turn up at the corners as his makeup artist dabs at his forehead with a clean powder puff. “I’m Lee Heeseung.”

You respond with your name and shake his hand, your nerves spiking. You expected Heeseung to be both attractive and polite, but it’s another level in person compared to his media appearances.

“Have you always been interested in music?” You ask.

Heeseung nods, still smiling. “Since I was old enough to hold a guitar. Both of us, actually. I don’t know if Hoon told you, but he was the one that started the band.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “No, he didn’t say anything at all. He doesn’t really talk about his work. Neither of us do.”

Heeseung laughs. “Yeah. He’s a closed book a lot of the time. But he’s got a great soul, he just doesn’t let a lot of people see it.”

You look down at your shoes, smiling. “I’d offer you a bagel, but I think the team would kill me if I let you mess up your makeup.”

Heeseung releases another chuckle. “Save it for Hoon, then. Make it a little lunch date.” When the photographer’s assistant calls for Heeseung, he winks at you and leaps off of the chair.

Sunghoon finds you in the next second, smiling warmly before taking the bag of food from your hands. “Please tell me there's an everything bagel in here.”

You nod. “With extra cream cheese.”

He beckons you to the free armchairs on the opposite side of the makeshift vanities. You sit down across from him and find your croissant in the bag, ready to eat it whole at this point.

“You could’ve eaten before I finished. You didn’t have to wait for me.”

You shrug and bite into your food. “Force of habit. I always make sure the girls eat before I do.”

He nods and takes a chunk out of his own bagel. “Like a good leader. I knew Jay liked you for a reason.”

You scoff, practically choking on the egg and cheese in the croissant. “Says the guy who started this whole thing. You didn’t tell me you were the one who made Into Eden.”

Sunghoon shrugs, his mood shifting. “It never came up. Besides, Heeseung took the proverbial role of leader a long time ago, anyway.”

You shake your head, picking at your food. “I bet everyone would give you more of a lead if you proved you could handle the responsibility.”

 Sunghoon is taken aback, there’s no doubt about that. When has he not been serious and responsible about his commitment to the band, save for the past year?

Sure, he hasn’t made great decisions recently, especially with his new…habit, simply put. But he’s never stopped caring, no matter how the tabloids turned on him or Heeseung overshadowed him when he began to fall short.

Maybe he needs to put some good will back in, even if he feels justified for being jaded at this point in his career.

Wanting to turn the tide of the conversation, Sunghoon spots a random guitar in the studio and grabs it eagerly. He sits back down with a newfound interest, plucking the strings to ensure it’s in tune.

You laugh and stuff the crumb-filled wrapper in the bag. “Avoiding the subject, I see.”

“Hey,” Sunghoon defends himself. “When I see a guitar, it’s only natural to play it.” He strums a few chords, satisfied. “Have any requests?”

You lift your shoulders, intrigued.

Sunghoon begins playing the opening strings of Oasis’s “Champagne Supernova.” It’s a bittersweet song, one with a beautiful instrumental but somber lyrics. Seems fitting for the man playing it somehow.

He begins to sing the first lines, the fried timbre of his vocals lulling you into a state of relaxation. By the introduction of the first chorus, you’re singing along with him, matching his tone with your saccharine harmonies. 

It makes the crowd around you pause to look on for a moment, mesmerized at two stars seeming to shine at the same second. They must resign it to fate, two talents coming together in music and love, unaware of the reality of your situation.

Or maybe, they see the shades of something blossoming that you and Sunghoon have yet to recognize yourselves.

You flip through the newest issue of Vogue, excited to read Sunghoon’s part of the interview. It takes a handful of turns before you make it to the spread, the interview intertwined with shots of Heeseung and Sunghoon clad in V-necks and leather jeans. Their outfits coincide with the grunge aesthetic. You flip through the discussion about their newest album, “Under the Sun,” until one specific segment catches your eye.

VOGUE: So, it’s safe to assume this new album is about dedication, or the commitment, to one’s desires. It shows in your new single off this album, “All For You,” as you said Heeseung, but how do you feel about it Sunghoon?

PSH: I agree with Hee a hundred percent. Sometimes you don’t realize how devoted you are to something or someone until you’re caught in the middle of it. And sometimes that can be beautiful and intoxicating, a reason to go on that keeps you alive in so many ways.

VOGUE: I sense something or someone on your mind besides the album.

PSH: You could say that.

You left hours before the boys began their interview. It could’ve been a million things on his mind when the writer made note of his reaction, but you know the online forums and fandoms must be exploding over the snippet.

“Whatcha reading?” Ningning asks. She walks into your kitchen, looking for a cup to fill with ice water. She may live a few apartments down, but she never fails to use her status as the youngest to barge in whenever she wants.

You show her the front cover when she turns her head back in your direction. “His new article just came out.”

“Any mentions of his new love affair?” She wiggles her eyebrows and you threaten to throw the magazine at her head.

“Drop it already, Ning! It’s not real anyway.”

“Come on. The guy is cute, you’re cute, have some fun with it!”

“I would if he didn’t have so many walls up.”

“Like you don’t?” Ningning tests the waters, the air suddenly thick with tension. “You’re always so serious. You know we love you, but you never let yourself loosen up.”

You sigh and drop the magazine on the counter. “There’s a lot of responsibilities on the line. I can’t just shuck them whenever I want.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to worry every second about them, or about us. Let go sometimes,  babe.”

Before you can respond, your doorbell rings. You’re both surprised, not expecting anyone to show up today, but you answer the door anyway. 

Sunghoon stands before the threshold with a bag of takeout and a shy smile. His eyes are not bloodshot, his outfit looks purposefully put together, and his posture tells you he’s on a mission. “Figured since you brought food last time, I oughta return the favor.”

Ningning saunters up behind you with a smirk, arms still crossed. “Speak of the devil.”

“Easy, that’s not me,” he jokes. “Probably more of an associate.”

Ningning laughs and takes the cue to exit the apartment. “Have fun, you two, but not too much fun!”

You press your hand to the back of your neck, the heat on your cheeks rising at an alarming rate. “Didn’t know we were supposed to meet today.”

“We weren’t,” he admits.

A corner of your mouth quirks up. “I thought whatever we did in our private time was our business. You’re using the space in your schedule to hang out with me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Sunghoon bops you on the nose with his index finger and drops the bag of takeout on the counter. “I didn’t know what you’d like so I got a little bit of everything. Wontons, crab rangoons, egg rolls…I guess I kinda went overboard, didn’t I?”

You shake your head, the other part of your mouth turning up until your face cracks into a full-blown smile. The uncertainty on his face, the wind-swept hairdo covering a part of his eyes, the rapid motions of his hands taking the containers of food out of the bag.

In any other circumstance, you would consider this an awkward but real first date. And because your heart is not functioning in tandem with your head, you feel the flutters in your stomach all the same. “I’ll eat whatever you brought.”

The sun sets into the clouds surrounding the apartment complexes near yours, the high-rise bathed in orange and yellow hues from the day coming to a close. Your stomach is still overwhelmingly full from the food Sunghoon brought over, but you’re in a comfortable space as you both sit on your couch together watching another episode of New Girl.

“Can I ask you something?”

Sunghoon turns to you, his smile not meeting his eyes. “‘S a free country. But I get to ask you one also. Quid pro quo and all that.”

You ponder how to word your next sentence, not wanting to cross an unspoken boundary. “Why did you start using drugs?”

He sighs, rubbing the palms of his hands on his jeans. “Honestly, I didn’t know the reason until I stopped taking them a few weeks ago…when we started this thing. It helped to take the edge off of things, off of me always worrying about how I was measuring up to Hee. And then they just helped with everything else, until they didn’t.”

Your heart aches at his answer, the explanation one you did not expect to be so in-depth. Like most starlets and singers at your age, it just seemed to be around and available to take whenever you wanted. Not that you or any of the girls in PrismHeart partook, but it was still there.

You didn’t realize that his proclivity started from a place of genuine need for something else. Anything else, if it meant he could escape.

 “My turn,” Sunghoon says, turning his full attention to you on the couch. “Why do you never let yourself relax?”

His question and Ningning’s words haunt the deep recesses of your brain in an instant, the unspoken fears inside of you coming to a head as you try to create an answer. “Being able to sing professionally has been something I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember. I guess somewhere deep inside I’m worried if I don’t take it seriously, I’ll lose it forever.”

Sunghoon ruminates on your answer before he traces the outline of your hand with his fingers, the touch setting off sparks on your skin. “We’re more alike than I thought.”

You laugh and throw the pillow under your back at him. “What? It’s not like I’m a robot or something.”

He chuckles and stands up from the couch. “Okay, well, either way, we need to liven the mood again.” Sunghoon scrolls through a playlist on his phone and finds a song that immediately makes his face lighten up. “Perfect.”

He connects his phone to your Bluetooth speakers, the guitar riff of The Darkness’s “I Believe In A Thing Called Love” cutting through the silence from moments before.

“What the hell-“

“Stop thinking for five minutes and dance with me or so help me God.” His eyebrows quirk up in an unspoken challenge, and before you can stop yourself and use your logical brain to think first and then decide, you’re up off of your feet with your best cockney accent to match the lead singer’s tone.

You may be off key and breathless, and Sunghoon may look ridiculous as he riffs on an air-guitar, but it’s the first night in years where you’ve truly felt free. No obligations or restrictions are there to stop you from doing what you please.

That night when you go to sleep, you save the ridiculous song to your Apple Music account and think about Sunghoon’s smile before shutting your eyes.

The flash of cameras is nothing new, especially on a red carpet. What adds a unique dynamic to the situation is Sunghoon standing by. He watches you pose for the cameras, the press doting over you for a shot of your outfit and presence at Into Eden’s album launch party.

His eyes on you burn brighter than the lights strung across the space. You blush to yourself and keep smiling for the multitudes of paparazzi. The next minute, Sunghoon puts a hand on the small of your back gently to lead you in the direction of the club a dozen feet or so away.

“Sunghoon, one picture! Just one!”

You turn your eyes to him and press two fingers to your neck, feigning it off as nervousness in front of the public. Sunghoon smirks and pulls you into his chest, letting the vultures beg for more as he holds you close.

He puts a hand up to say goodbye and walks away with you, palms intertwined. Even as you enter the club, seeing Heeseung and his girlfriend Ryujin waiting for you both, Sunghoon doesn’t let go.

“Do you want a drink?” Sunghoon asks, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

“No thank you.”

“Who are you and what have you done to Sunghoon?” Ryujin asks, mystified at his newfound etiquette.

“He’s still around, Ryu. Just trying to be on his best behavior for once.” Sunghoon ruffles her hair before walking away to greet Jay at the bar riddled with executives.

She huffs and fixes the flyaways Sunghoon caused, but smiles at you when she’s done. “Whatever you’re doing to him, keep it up. I haven’t seen him this way in forever.”

Clearly Ryujin’s not aware of the circumstances of yours and Sunghoon’s relationship, but something has changed in him both in and out of the public eye. Many posts and headlines showcased your numerous outings and discreet meetups in the weeks you’ve spent together. However, there were more moments shared between you that the public had no insight on.

Nights in the recording studio, rehearsals for PrismHeart that turned into goofing off between the both of you, and rides on his motorcycle that almost made your head spin.

It’s hard to tell now where the truth stops and the lies begin, and vice versa. How can you tell yourself the smiles that he gives you aren’t genuine? How do you respond to Ryujin without feeling like your answers are coming from the depths of your heart?

“Babe, there’s that director! Let’s go say hi!” Ryujin runs over to the eponymous man with her hand tightly wrapped around Heeseung’s. He smiles apologetically before being stolen away.

You wait for Sunghoon to come back, but not before you witness Yujin and Jungwon linked arm in arm, followed by the last two people you expected to show up tonight.

Jake’s hair is newly dyed, the ash blond of his hair striking under the lights of the club. He doesn’t notice you, only shakes hands with Jungwon and continues on his path to the bar. His date and Sunghoon’s ex Yeji has her body wrapped tightly around his, even as they walk through the crowds of people.

It’s been months since you last saw him, and in spite of your desire to stay and show your pride for Sunghoon and his newest album, you want nothing more than to run out of the club and never come back. Your heartbeat quickens, the thumps of it rattling your chest with no guarantees it’ll calm down.

Like a magnet, Sunghoon is by your side immediately and looking into your eyes with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Jake’s here. Yeji’s with him.”

Sunghoon scans the crowd and lands on the two at the bar. Jake catches the younger man’s eyes and lifts his drink in congratulations, a smug smirk on his face.

Before he can walk over to the idiot’s spot, you hold onto his arm tightly to stop him. “He’s not worth it, Hoon. Trust me.”

Sunghoon knew enough of your history with the C-list actor from your own admissions and your friend’s anecdotes to want to kick the guy’s teeth in. Jake didn’t just make it harder for you to make your relationship a priority in your life, but he made every issue between the two of you your fault somehow.

And as far as Sunghoon could tell, no-one could be more devoted to the things that mattered to them than you.

“Why the fuck would he show up here?” Sunghoon asks nobody in particular, still fuming at the man’s audacity and his effect on your wellbeing. “The least I can do is show him the door.”

“No, please.” You grip onto the lapels of Sunghoon’s suit jacket, emphasizing your need to have him close. If he leaves you, you might fall apart. “Dance with me?”

Sunghoon’s anger transforms, lightly scoffing at your request with a soft smile to follow. “I don’t think this song is good to dance to, love.”

The term of endearment makes your knees weak, the word on his lips making your fingers tremble against the fabric of his jacket. Yes, the remix of one of Into Eden’s new songs “No Doubt” is more suited for a mosh pit than a couple wanting to dance, but you don’t care. “Dance with me anyway.”

You lead him to the center of the club. Both your worlds look on as you hold him close and try to match the rhythm of the remix. It’s a pointless endeavor, the beat changing right when you think you’ve mastered it. Your attempts to follow make Sunghoon smile. “If it helps, I’m not a big fan of this version of the song. Glad it’s just a B side track.”

You roll your eyes and grin. You rest your head on his chest, deciding to sway softly instead of thinking about the music pumping or the strangers’ passing glances.

“I think we’re breaking rule number two, love,” Sunghoon whispers into the crown of your head.

You move to stare up at him, running two fingers to the side of his neck exposed over the collar of his shirt. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

In the haze of blinding lights and blank faces, Sunghoon’s is the only one that matters as he bends down and presses your lips to his.

In contrast to the first kiss you ever shared, this one is not entwined with alcohol or unwelcome shock. It’s ingrained with weeks worth of tension and words that you could not read before, the lines between your agreement now crystal clear. 

You gladly accept his mouth on yours, your body on fire when his tongue touches the roof of your mouth. His hands slip down to the curve of your hips, squeezing the skin through the confines of your clothes.

The sounds of shuttering cameras and surprised voices intercut with the music are of no priority to you. All that matters is that this kiss never ends. That the feelings you’ve been harboring never have to be concealed again.

Sunghoon walks into Jay’s office with a heavy heart, unsure how to present the situation he will unfold to his manager. He’s been ducking your calls and texts, unsure how to go about his next moves before discussing his predicament with the person he trusts the most in this world, save for Heeseung.

“I could kiss you!” Jay says when he sees Sunghoon walk in, pointing at him with pure glee.

“Please don’t,” Sunghoon responds.

 “Streams of ‘All for You’ hit an all-time peak last night, the projected numbers are predicting this record to be your best selling one since the first album, and you’re a golden boy in the press again!” Relief washes over Jay’s face, the success of his plan evident in the easy posture of his body. “Not gonna say I’m a god, but I'm definitely a genius.”

Sunghoon claps his hands together, giving his manager the praise he deserves. “That’s great, Jay. Really.”

“You should be happy, man! We’re on the straight and narrow again. Now I just have to come up with some sweet and easy way to end the whole thing and we’re good to go.”

Sunghoon wants to interject, but Jay continues on with his thoughts, letting them run free out loud. “It should be pretty easy. Just gotta find another event to have you guys attend and then we’ll pull the plug—“

“Jay, I can’t.” Sunghoon blurts out the three words that have been on his mind since he walked into the label’s building. His heart rests in his throat as he holds nothing back. “I like her. Really.”

Jay stops walking around the room and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He blows the hair in front of his face, puzzled. “Well, that’s a pickle.”

“I didn’t mean for it to go this far,” Sunghoon admits, because it’s the truth. He never intended on actually finding you endearing, funny, attractive, all the positive adjectives he can come up with in his mind. “And then the album party happened…and I just can’t.”

Jay sits down at his desk, his face becoming a mask of professionalism. “You know that’s not possible, Sunghoon. I mean, think about it. She has her band, you have yours. It would be a disaster trying to keep it up. The only reason Hee and Ryu are still together is because she isn’t involved in any of this shit.”

Sunghoon shakes his head, vaguely listening to his manager’s words but not giving them weight. “You don’t know her like I do.”

Jay shrugs. “You may be right. But you could barely handle a relationship, real or fake, when this started. Do you think a real one is manageable right now?”

Sunghoon leans back into the armchair, some of his manager’s words hitting too close to home to deny. Would he truly be able to keep a true relationship with you alive when he was always under public pressure and eventual scrutiny?

Sunghoon walks out of the office with more questions than answers, more unsure than he was before.

You sit in your bed, undecided on whether you should try to text Sunghoon again or not. The downpour outside reminds you of the onslaught of emotions pooling in your gut, a mixture of hurt and anxiety weighing heavy on your heart.

He kisses you because you both wanted him to and then he decides to leave you without a single word for days? What kind of sense does that make?

Yujin and Ningning want to cut his heart out with a rusty knife, but you assure them you’re as confused as he probably is, unsure where to go from this point forward.

If only he could give you some signal he’s still alive, you would feel more at ease.

A knock at your door makes you run to answer it, expecting Ningning to show up with Sour Patch Kids and the newest film on your To Be Watched list. “Ning, you better have ‘Bend It Like Beckham’ in your hand or you’re not coming in!”

You open the door to Sunghoon soaked through from the rain. “Sorry I came empty handed.” Sunghoon trails his eyes down your body, smirking at the Hello Kitty pattern of your cotton shirt and shorts. “Nice outfit.”

You shake your head, incredulous that he’s at your door without any word to warn you. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to see you,” he says honestly. He walks through the door and makes you back into the hallway wall. His wet body traps you against him and the walkway. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

You give him a lopsided grin. “You have a funny way of showing it.”

He chuckles, swiping his wet hair off his face. “I know, I’m an idiot.”

“And a jerk.”

“And a jerk,” he parrots, eyes full of sincerity. “But I want to be better for you. I want to be worthy of being yours.”

The confession makes your body buckle. The breath that was still in your lungs escapes in one gust from your lips. How can he think he isn’t worth it after all the vulnerability he’s shown you? “You already are, Hoon.”

He places his hands on either side of your face tenderly, his mouth inching closer. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

You mirror his expression, covering his hands with your own. “I might have been told that once or twice.”

His lips collide with yours, the action soft but the emotions charged behind the kiss heavy. Where that kiss in the nightclub was chaste compared to this one, you can only imagine how the rest of the night will play out.

Sunghoon discards his jacket onto the floor, your hands automatically sliding across his damp shoulder blades. Your touch makes him shudder, a moan escaping his throat. “You’re so warm.”

You smirk. “My bed’s warmer.”

The tangle of clothes and tongues leads to your position in his lap on your bed, the comforter discarded somewhere in the rush to get him to sit down and hold you closer.

Your body writhes against his, his pants the only thing left that he’s wearing. He holds you tighter against him, groaning against your lips. “Fuck, are you trying to get me to come already?”

You blush and kiss his neck. “Wasn’t my intention, but I don’t mind.”

Sunghoon chuckles. He flips you onto your back on the mattress, taking your bra off to reveal your breasts. Your nipples perk up once the air hits your skin, and Sunghoon can’t fight the groan that escapes his lips. “You’re fucking beautiful. I could stare at your tits all day.”

Most compliments make you feel like the person giving them is obligated to, not because it’s true. But when you hear such explicit thoughts leave Sunghoon’s mouth, you believe every word he says.

He covers your body with his own, taking one nipple into his mouth as he kneads the neglected breast with one hand. Expertly, he uses his other hand to slide into your underwear, finding your clit in record time.

He swirls his index and middle finger around the bud, using your essence that has already pooled in your panties as lubricant.

You mewl, grasping Sunghoon’s hair in your fingers for purchase on something, anything.  “Fuck, that feels good.”

Sunghoon releases your nipple with a pop, his mouth trailing up the valley of your breasts to stop at your lips. “I’m not done yet, darling.”

Suddenly, he has both hands pulling your underwear down your legs, leaving the fabric dangling on the curve of your ankle. He wastes no time settling his face at the apex of your thighs.

He kisses your clit, making your body buck into his face at the quick act. By the time his tongue is inside of you, prodding deliciously at your walls, you’re practically at the brink of an orgasm.

“You like that?” Sunghoon asks, his voice wicked against your pussy, the vibrations of his mouth reverberating against your skin. “Like how I stretch you open, love?”

You nod vigorously. “Yes, Hoon, you know I do.”

He licks a long stripe up your center, from your perineum to the hood of your clit. “I have to be inside you right now, darling. But I promise, I’ll make you come on my tongue later.”

You clench down on nothing, eager to have his body conjoined with yours. He takes his jeans and boxers off in one motion, his cock long and thick. You want nothing more than to take him in your mouth, feel the taste of him on your lips, but you’re too excited for what’s to come when you look in his devilish eyes.

He settles on top of you once again, certain he’s prepped you enough for him to enter you. He looks into your eyes for confirmation, and you kiss his lips to emphasize your eagerness.

He slips inside without issue, his girth stretching you more than his tongue did. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, a curse flying from your mouth when he fills you completely.

“That’s it, baby,” he says, his voice anchored to the skin of your neck. He can practically see the outline of himself on your lower belly protruding through the skin. “Feel all of me.”

His hips push himself in and out of you, his tempo slow and torturous. The rational part of you thinks he’s only doing this for your comfort, but you know him better than most deductions of logic.

 Sunghoon knows you want him to go faster from the feeling of your nails digging into his back and your moans in the shell of his ear. But because he loves to tease, he’ll drag this out for as long as he can.

Until he hears you beg for more, that is. And you don’t mind groveling for what you want.

“Hoonie,” you plead, trying hard to meet his hips with your own for more force. “Please fuck me harder.”

Sunghoon kisses your forehead before saying, “Flip over for me, love. All fours.”

You do as he commands. Once you’re in an acceptable position, he slams himself inside of you.

The tempo barely compares to the previous one, giving you no time to do anything but relish in the pistoning of his hips as they make contact with yours. He smacks your ass for good measure, a moan escaping from your lips as he rubs the reddening skin.

“You wanted this,” He reminds you, smacking your other cheek harder as he drills himself in and out of you without any sense of stopping. “Wanted me to ruin you like a good little doll.”

“Yes, yes, please don’t stop,” you beg, stuffing your face into your pillow.

“None of that, my love.” He takes your hair into a makeshift ponytail to raise your head from the bed. “Want everyone to hear how good you feel, how well you’re being fucked. And I want them to know how beautiful you sound when you come.”

You’re limp by the time your orgasm rushes through you, your body wrecked to no end as you’re bathed in ecstasy.

“Holy shit,” you mewl, still feeling the aftershocks.

Sunghoon continues on with his relentless attention, his speed not letting up. He moves you against him and vice versa as he pleases, seeing the white coating of your essence on his cock as it disappears inside of you.

“Fuck, baby, where do you want me to come?” He asks, unsure how much longer he can hold it in.

“Inside of me, please.”

Don’t have to tell him twice.

A groan rips from Sunghoon’s throat as he releases inside of you, knowing his entire load is painting you white. If only he could see it, see how much of him is a part of you now.

He runs his hands up and down your body when you both come down from your highs. He kisses the reddened skin of your backside as he drags a washcloth between your legs, making sure not to overstimulate you in the process of cleaning you up.

You stare at each other, both in lingering rapture as well as disbelief. He hums a song into your ear as your eyelids flutter closed, the gravel in his voice the perfect lullaby.

You wake up the next morning to Sunghoon playing the chorus of “Wonderland,” PrismHeart’s first hit on the Top 100. You grin to yourself, holding the comforter close to your chest. “Trying to record that music video was such a pain.”

Sunghoon turns and smiles at your awoken form, putting the guitar against your side table. He takes you into his arms, kissing the top of your forehead. “How so?”

“They wanted us to do this themed shoot. White rabbits, decks of cards, me dressed as Alice. But every time the director tried filming the segment where we all went down the rabbit hole, it just kept going wrong.” You laugh and run your fingers across Sunghoon’s chest.

He chuckles and kisses your shoulder. “They didn’t think to try a different concept out?”

You shook your head. “We all agreed on it. Besides, the story is actually one of the inspirations for the songs. I read a lot of Lewis Carroll growing up, but I always loved ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’ the most.”

 Sunghoon runs his lips across your neck, his hand tracing circles into your waist. “A beautiful girl lost in her fantasies. Sounds nice,” he whispers, his breath creating delicious waves of heat across your skin.

It still doesn’t feel real, having him so close and naked against you in your bed. It could be a dream, one action of your subconscious playing on your deepest desires. And if that were true, you wish you would never come out of it, too happy for words to express.

When Sunghoon slips under the covers and between your legs once again, you wonder if the faraway place that held your dreams could hold a space for Sunghoon too.

It only takes one weekend for your happiness to come crashing down. Whatever you and Sunghoon were building is destroyed, all in the span of seventy-two hours.

Sunghoon is helping you cook a plethora of pancakes when your front door opens in a slam. Yujin and Jungwon bust through with worried expressions.

“You guys haven’t seen it, have you?” Yujin asks, frown lines etched on the sides of her mouth. She hands you her phone, and you and Sunghoon look over the article headline on the screen.

“‘INTO EDEN’ & ‘HEARTPRISM’ CAUGHT IN DATING SCHEME? IS IT REAL OR JUST FOR SHOW? EXCLUSIVE INSIDER TELLS ALL!”

Sunghoon pulls out his phone to call Jay, stalking into your bedroom. The conversation immediately bursts into a screaming match, the sounds of Sunghoon’s anger apparent.

“I swear to God, Jay, if you don’t find out whoever leaked this shit, I’m gonna have your head on a plate right next to theirs.”

Yujin and Jungwon grow quiet. With the news shared, your friend hugs you and walks out the door with Jungwon in tow. 

Sunghoon throws his phone onto your bed and walks back over to you, clearly worn out from the information he told Jay and the facts that were given to him by his manager.

You give him a close-lipped smile and envelop him into a hug. Sunghoon strokes your hair as you promise him, “It can be fixed, Hoon, and it will.”

A few days and one interview later prove that in spite of your hopes, not all things are fixable. 

Jay sets up a quick interview with Buzzfeed under the guise of discussing the new album. Everyone knows the sole reason for its existence is to quell the rumors of your false romance. It started that way, yes, but that doesn’t mean you or Sunghoon have to divulge that information to the public.

Heeseung and Sunghoon discuss the inspiration for their songs and the creative process behind the album. And when the questions come up regarding the rumors, Sunghoon plays them off with a smile.

“I’m not desperate enough to need to fake a relationship with anyone! How stupid would I have to be to do that?”

The interviewer quirks an eyebrow. “Are you saying your girlfriend was desperate to date you?”

“All I’m saying is that she pursued me that night in the club, and I was more than happy to see where it would go. And as they say, the rest is history.”

Heeseung looks at Sunghoon with wild eyes, his face practically screaming: That’s the best answer you could come up with?

When Sunghoon comes to your door that night to explain himself and how his words got twisted after the fact, you open the door only to throw the jacket he left in your apartment in his face.

“Desperate,” you seethe. “That’s the word you thought best described me, huh? So I guess I’m also stupid enough to want to date you, too?”

“No, I didn’t say that! I didn’t say any of those things!”

“So the interviewer was lying? Just another person or thing out to get you, right Sunghoon? When will you take responsibility for once and own up to the shit you said about us, about me?”

The girls huddle behind you as the tears stream down your face. “Just leave me alone, Sunghoon. Get away from me, use this as the out you wanted since day one.”

You slam the door in his face, not bothering to address the fist that slams into your door or Sunghoon’s pleas for the two of you to work this out.

His heart shatters from the force of his mess, a mess that not another soul can be blamed for but him.

Weeks roll by into painful silence, not a single exchange shared. You blocked him on all social media in hopes to avoid taglines of your name in relation to Sunghoon, but it’s of no use. The time comes where the girls have to keep your phone away in hopes you’ll stop searching online for comments related to the Buzzfeed article. “Babe, it’s not gonna do you any good,” Yujin sighs, powering off the device.

You nod, resigning yourself to the fact that whatever relationship you had is over, and there was no way to prevent it. You could not control or change Sunghoon anymore than he could change himself, and unfortunately, he was still in the process of doing so and shattered your heart in the quest to be a better man.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, tries everything to repair what he’s destroyed. He pleads with Jay to make contact through Momo, but his hands are tied. “She doesn’t want to talk to you, man. If I keep pestering Momo she’s going to have my ass, and not in a fun way. I’m sorry.”

The first few weeks of the tour comes and goes in a haze, Into Eden beginning their string of tour dates up and down the eastern coast of America. The only time Sunghoon is coherent enough to remember anything is in the mornings before he falls into another night of misery. He doesn’t go back to his usual routine of drugs and booze, keeping his promise religiously. Instead, he goes on in a blur, playing his instrument and performing his parts of the songs without a hitch.

He may not be happy, but at least he’s doing something he‘s always been meant to do.

One afternoon of rehearsals, Sunghoon decides to use his break time on the roof to his advantage. The sounds of the city, its car horns and speeding pedestrians, keep him sane for once in a long time. 

Of course, Heeseung has to ruin the solitude with his presence. “Sunwoo said I’d find you up here.”

“Sunwoo needs to learn to shut his mouth and focus on sound mixing,” Sunghoon grumbles, strumming the electric guitar in his lap and avoiding Heeseung’s gaze.

Heeseung sighs and sits next to his best friend. Both of their legs dangle over the edge of the building as they take in the bird’s eye view of New York City. “If you want to fix things, you just have to tell her how you feel.”

“Thanks, Yoda. Where would I be without you?”

Heeseung laughs at the young man’s ridiculous attitude, Sunghoon’s stubbornness unbroken since they became friends. “Just because you may not like my advice doesn’t mean I won’t give it to you.”

“What nuggets of wisdom could Mr. Perfect give me that I haven’t heard a thousand times over?”

“Is that what you think of me?” Heeseung runs a hand over his face, mystified at Sunghoon’s words. “I don’t know where or when you got this notion in your head that my life is perfect, but it’s complete bullshit.”

“Look at you and look at me, Hee. Everyone has said it for years. How much more talented you are, how much better you handle the spotlight compared to me, the list goes on and on.”

Heeseung closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Ryujin and I almost broke up last year.”

Sunghoon looks at his best friend, stunned. “Fuck, really?”

His best friend nods. “The last album’s release…I was never home. Ryujin kept getting on my case about us not spending time together, and we took a break for a few weeks. Once I realized how dumb it was for us to be fighting in the first place, things went back to normal. Well, normal and one relationship counselor later.” Heeseung sighs. “Jay kept it quiet from everyone, including you.”

“You could’ve told me,” Sunghoon says, guilty he had no clue.

“I know. But everyone has their secrets, just like you.” Heeseung emits another breath from the depths of his lungs. “I’m glad you know now, though.”

Sunghoon nods. The reality of what he’s done, coupled with the fact he’s spent so long misunderstanding one of the only people to love him so earnestly, hits him hard. Against his will, a few tears escape his eyes. “I really fucked up, Hee.”

Heeseung takes Sunghoon by the shoulder and makes Sunghoon look him in the eyes. “Then fix it. And let me help you.”

Sunghoon smiles, his first real smile in weeks. “How?”

Heeseung smirks. “I may not be as good at making plans as Jay, but I have a few ideas.”

The arena is alive with the sounds of the audience chanting and the instrumental intro to “All for You” exploding from the main stage and stadium speakers. Sunghoon tries to brush off his sudden nerves, the gravity of what he’s about to do shaking him to the core. It could go terribly wrong or do nothing to fix his problems, but he has to try, right?

Heeseung puts his hand on Sunghoon’s back, his bandmate providing the reassurance and stable ground he needs. “You got this, Hoon.”

The two men step on stage, the crowd screaming an octave higher when they take their instruments off their stands. Sunghoon raises a hand, motioning for the band to go quiet and the audience to silence their cheers.

“As you know, a few months ago I met a person that really matters to me. I want her and all of you to know that she still does. And if she’s listening somewhere tonight, she should know that this is for her.” 

Sunghoon begins playing the first chords of the song he’s written, nobody but Heeseung and the band aware of this change in the setlist. “This isn’t off of our new album, but I hope you all like it. It’s called ‘Lost in Wonderland.’”

Sunghoon begins the song on his guitar, Heeseung following behind him with backing vocals and a bass. The audience sways to the song, enraptured by the lyrics and melodies of the two musicians. Sunghoon pours his heart into the chorus, hoping by some luck that you’ll be able to hear this if nothing else.

“Maybe I’ll see you in Brooklyn, maybe I’ll see you in France. As long as the waves keep on rolling in. Things don’t always go the way they’re planned.

“Maybe I’ll see you in Jersey, maybe next year in Japan. Sometimes it’s so hard to find a friend, you’re the only one that just might understand.

“Lost in wonderland…”

By the time the final chorus rings out, the notes of Sunghoon’s guitar flying through the air gracefully, Sunghoon feels a million times lighter. All he can hope for now is that his plea will reach you amidst the sea of screaming fans.

Sunghoon runs off the stage as soon as the band finishes playing their last song, unable to hold his composure any longer. What stops him short from running to the green room is your face riddled with tears.

Sunghoon is unsure what to do next. Hold you in his arms and not let go, the last time he saw you being too long for him to accept as reality? Or confess what he said on stage was only a fragment of what he holds in his heart?

You beat him to the punch, your words coming out practically on top of each other. “Momo booked me a red eye to get here in time. She said Heeseung told her something had happened to you before the concert and—“

“I love you,” Sunghoon interrupts, the three words and eight letters no longer able to be kept inside of him.

You smile, eyes puffy but shining. Before you can ask him if what he just said is true, he repeats it until the words go stale, but they don’t. “I love you,” he says, “and I’m so sorry I made you think I didn’t.”

He runs to you immediately and kisses you with all the energy he has left in his body. The feeling of your mouth on his and your hands gripping tight onto his shirt fixes the part of him that broke the second you told him to get lost.

He knows he’ll never let you go again, never take you for granted for another second, and always remind you how much of you is home to him now.

When you part, you ask him, “Did you really write that song for me?”

Sunghoon smirks. “Every single line.”

You nod, running your thumb across his chin. “I love you, too.”

The resounding sound of the bustling audience leaving the venue and the crew packing up fills the background as you kiss Sunghoon again, making up for the time you lost, and preparing for all the times to come.

1 YEAR LATER

PrismHeart’s new album cover is plastered across the press wall. The red carpet is dyed neon pink to accentuate the colors of the title, “Love Language.” It’s a fitting name for the project in your opinion, many of the songs directly inspired by your personal life.

Yujin fusses with Jungwon’s suit once they’re away from the press wall, their matching ensembles making you smile. They’ve been together for as long as you and Sunghoon have at this point. Sharing your songs and thoughts for the newest record has been easy thanks to a fellow member being stupidly in love like you.

Sunghoon steps onto the carpet for his round of paparazzi photos. His suit and jewelry are completely black except for the shirt he picked out that coordinates with your dress. It may be too pink for his taste, but he’d do anything to make you happy, and he knows how to stay on theme for a special occasion.

You add on a few brownie points in your mind for how incredible he looks, the suit emphasizing the contours of his body that you know too well by now. 

When Sunghoon’s done with his pap walk, he has to hold himself back from running to you and kissing you hard on the mouth. His composure hangs by a thread through seeing the top of your chest accentuated by the sweetheart neckline of your bubblegum pink dress.

He holds you close and kisses you on the cheek, a halfway point between what he should do and what he wants to do to you, the audience around them be damned.

The audience in question goes crazy when his lips linger on your cheek, the candid shot perfect for the slew of tabloids that will come out tomorrow.

“You look fucking incredible, just so you know,” Sunghoon whispers in your ear.

You smack him on the chest softly, beaming. “Language, Hoon!”

“Hey, forgive me. Words of affirmation and all, y’know. My love language.” He winks, and you chuckle into his chest.

“You and your dad jokes. You’re lucky I love you.”

“I am,” he confesses, taking a free lock of hair between his fingers. “Very lucky.”

Before you can tell him you feel the same, you hear the sound of your name on an interviewer’s lips. You walk hand in hand with Sunghoon to greet her before she begins her parade of commentary, both of you all smiles as you discuss your latest single.

The show must go on, the multitude of cameras and questions second nature by now. But with Sunghoon’s hand in yours and your heart completely his, you know that none of the fame will compare to the happiness that his love has brought to your life.

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy @monamipencil

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[novaursa]

Legacy (the night is long)

- Summary: Tywin was the man who saved you from Robert's wrath. He was also the man who doomed you.

- Paring: targ!reader/Tywin Lannister

- Note: Be aware of the unspecified time jumps and how canon events don't add up with the story's timeline.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: sun over the capital

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

Jorah Mormont approached Daenerys' tent, with a letter in his hand. The parchment was sealed with an unfamiliar sigil, one that bore neither the lion of Lannister nor the dragon of House Targaryen. Daenerys looked up, curiosity flaring in her eyes as Jorah handed her the letter.

"This arrived, Your Grace," Jorah said quietly, his tone cautious. "It was smuggled into the camp by Varys's contacts. I thought you should have it at once."

Daenerys took the letter, turning it over in her hands, her fingers brushing across the wax seal. She broke the seal and unfolded the parchment carefully, her gaze settling on the words that began to reveal themselves. She read, her eyes widening as the truth of the letter began to sink in.

My dearest sister, the letter began, in a handwriting that was elegant yet steady. You do not know me, but I have long known of you. My name is Y/N, and though fate has kept us apart, we share the blood of the dragon.

Daenerys felt her breath hitch as she continued reading, taking in every word with reverence.

I write to you from Westeros, where I find myself bound in an unexpected alliance. I am now Lady Y/N Lannister, married to Lord Tywin, who sees in me both a strength of my own and a promise of loyalty to House Lannister. But know this—my heart remains true to our blood, our lineage. You are not alone, Daenerys. Though we are separated by sea and circumstance, you have a sister here who thinks of you, who carries your memory, even though we have yet to meet.

Daenerys’s hands trembled slightly as she lowered the letter, her mind racing, filled with emotions she couldn’t quite name. This was her sister—a sister she had never known, reaching out to her across the world. The realization felt both profound and bittersweet.

Noticing her expression, Jorah leaned forward, concern etched in his brow. "Your Grace," he asked gently, "what is it? Who wrote to you?"

Daenerys took a steadying breath, her gaze unfocused as she tried to process what she had read. "It’s… from my sister," she whispered, almost as if saying it aloud would make it more real. "A sister I’ve never met. Her name is Y/N, and she’s… married to Tywin Lannister."

Jorah’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, though he masked it quickly. "Tywin Lannister," he murmured, his tone both shocked and wary. "I had heard rumors of his new marriage, but I never expected it to be to a Targaryen."

Daenerys looked at him, her expression filled with a mixture of wonder and sadness. "She says she’s thought of me. That I am not alone." She paused, her voice softening. "Did you ever see her, Jorah? In the North, when she was a ward at Winterfell?"

Jorah thought for a moment, casting his mind back over the years. "Yes, Your Grace," he said quietly. "I saw her once, many years ago. I was a young man then, visiting Winterfell on some matter for my father, Lord Jeor. She would have been just a girl then, but she had a certain… presence."

Daenerys leaned forward, her eyes bright with interest. "Tell me about her."

Jorah smiled faintly, recalling the memory as if dusting off an old, cherished book. "She was quiet, but there was a strength in her that couldn’t be ignored. She carried herself with grace, even then—a grace I could see was not learned from the North. She had the look of a Targaryen, unmistakable silver hair and violet eyes, and yet there was something solemn about her. I remember thinking she seemed like she carried a great weight, even as a young girl."

He paused, his gaze distant as he remembered. "The Stark children seemed to adore her. Robb Stark, Jon Snow… they were just boys then, but she was close to them. And Arya—she followed her around like a shadow. Y/N took Jon under her wing, I remember. It was as if she had a purpose that even she couldn’t yet name."

Daenerys listened, her heart aching with each word. "So she was… loved," she murmured, almost to herself. "She wasn’t alone."

Jorah nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "No, she wasn’t. She became a part of Winterfell. The North can be a harsh place, but it’s loyal to those who earn its trust. And she earned it."

Daenerys looked down at the letter again, a sense of warmth filling her despite the bittersweet nature of it. "I wonder what kind of life she has now… married to Tywin Lannister of all people."

Jorah’s expression darkened, his voice cautious. "Tywin Lannister is a calculating man, Your Grace. He sees people as assets, tools to be used for his legacy. I don’t doubt he sees her in the same way. But your sister must be strong—she survived Winterfell, and she made a place for herself there. She’ll find a way to endure in the Red Keep, too."

Daenerys nodded slowly, her fingers brushing the edge of the letter as though she could feel her sister’s presence through the words. "She says that her heart remains true to our blood," she murmured, her eyes fierce with newfound determination. "I may be in Essos, and she may be bound to the Lannisters, but we are Targaryens. We are still family."

Jorah’s gaze softened, admiration in his eyes. "A family reunited, perhaps. Someday."

Daenerys looked up at him, a spark of hope igniting in her heart. "Yes. Someday," she agreed softly. She folded the letter carefully, tucking it close to her heart. "Until then, I will remember her words—and the promise that we are not alone."

Wrapped in a plain, dark cloak that concealed your features, you made your way through the narrow, winding streets of King’s Landing, keeping your gaze low as Ser Barristan Selmy walked by your side, ever vigilant. The sky was cast in shades of twilight, the lingering golden glow of the sunset slipping away, giving way to the shadows of the evening.

You cast a glance at Barristan, who looked deeply displeased, his brow furrowed in a way you’d rarely seen. He’d been silent most of the journey, but as the brothel finally came into view, he couldn’t help himself.

“My lady,” he murmured, his tone respectful yet firm, “this… this place is beneath you. Surely, a prince could arrange to meet somewhere more dignified.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips, though it was tinged with a hint of irony. “Knowing Oberyn, I suspect he chose this location precisely for that reason, Ser Barristan,” you replied softly. “It amuses him, I imagine, to think of a Lannister bride stepping into a place like this.”

Barristan’s disapproving look didn’t waver, but he remained quiet as you pushed open the heavy door, stepping inside the dimly lit room. The air was thick with the scent of incense and perfumed oils, mingling with the low hum of laughter and whispers from the patrons scattered around. It was an ambiance that spoke of indulgence and secrecy, and yet, you felt a certain comfort in its anonymity.

In the center of the room, reclining on a plush chaise, was Oberyn Martell, dressed in his usual vibrant colors, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement as he spotted you. At his side, with a quiet, knowing smile, sat Ellaria Sand, her gaze warm yet calculating as she took you in.

“Well, well,” Oberyn drawled, his voice like silk as he looked you up and down, noting the plainness of your disguise with a smirk. “The new Lady Lannister gracing us with her presence, in such humble surroundings. I must say, Y/N, marriage has brought you to… interesting places.”

You smiled, pulling back your hood and allowing him to see your face fully. “And you’ve always had a taste for… unconventional meeting places, Oberyn. You haven’t changed.”

Ellaria laughed softly, her gaze resting on you with curiosity. “Tywin’s bride herself,” she mused, her tone smooth. “I must admit, I didn’t think I’d ever see a Targaryen in Lannister colors. How curious fate can be.”

You offered her a polite nod, though you couldn’t miss the slight bitterness beneath her words. “Lady Ellaria. I suspect fate has played its hand here more than once.”

Oberyn watched you, his eyes glinting with something unreadable as he poured himself a glass of wine. He gestured for you to join them, patting the seat beside him. “Come, sit with us. We have much to discuss, I think. So many bonds between our families, so many… tragedies.”

The words were spoken lightly, but they held a sharp edge that settled uneasily in your chest. You took a seat, Barristan standing protectively behind you, his presence a reassuring reminder of unwavering loyalty and honor.

Oberyn regarded you for a long moment, his smile fading as he tilted his head thoughtfully. “And so here you are, Lady Lannister, wife to the very man responsible for the destruction of both our families. Does that sit well with you?”

You met his gaze steadily, though the weight of his words pressed heavily on you. “Oberyn,” you began, choosing your words carefully, “you know as well as I do that we are often given choices… with very limited options.”

He leaned closer, his voice lowering, his tone soft but laced with bitterness. “I suppose you know that better than most. But tell me, does Tywin Lannister whisper anything to you in those quiet hours about the screams of Elia, of her children? Does he confess his sins to you as if they might be absolved?”

Your heart pounded, the familiar ache resurfacing with each word. You knew well the horrors he spoke of; they had haunted you ever since you first learned of your family’s brutal end. You lowered your gaze, struggling to maintain composure. “I have no need to hear it from him,” you whispered, your voice barely steady. “I remember all too well, Oberyn.”

Oberyn’s expression softened just slightly, though his eyes remained sharp. “And yet, here you are, tied to him. You, a Targaryen, bound to the man whose legacy is soaked in blood—our blood. Elia, Rhaegar, their children… they should be here, living, and yet their lives were ended so that your husband could secure his power.”

A shuddering breath escaped you, and you held up a hand, your voice trembling. “Please, Oberyn… I do not wish to hear more.”

For a moment, he studied you, his anger giving way to a flicker of understanding, though it did not diminish the fire in his gaze. “Very well,” he said, his voice softening. “I can see it pains you as it pains me. But make no mistake—I am here in King’s Landing for two things.”

You looked up at him, the question clear in your eyes. “And what would those be?”

“Vengeance,” he said, the word slipping from his lips with the weight of years behind it. “For Elia. For her children.” His gaze hardened, his voice carrying a quiet, lethal promise. “Justice, however long it takes, however I may have to find it.”

Your heart twisted as he spoke, a mixture of fear and empathy welling up inside you. “And the second reason?” you asked, almost dreading the answer.

Oberyn’s lips curled into a smile, though it lacked warmth. “Why, the royal wedding, of course,” he replied with feigned cheer. “A grand occasion, the whole realm gathered to watch the next king unite with his bride. The perfect stage for anyone with a purpose… and the perfect place to leave an impression.”

Ellaria, who had been watching silently, leaned forward, placing a comforting hand on Oberyn’s arm. “We have waited a long time, and now, we are here. The world will remember what was done to our family.”

You sat in silence, absorbing their words, understanding the unspoken intentions that lay beneath them. There was no mistaking Oberyn’s resolve, nor Ellaria’s quiet fury. You felt caught between two worlds—the blood of your family calling for vengeance, and the precarious ties that now bound you to House Lannister.

“Oberyn,” you said softly, meeting his gaze, “I… I do not ask for forgiveness, nor can I pretend that anything I do could ever make amends for what happened to your sister. But I hope that you know… I have never forgotten. I have never betrayed our blood.”

Oberyn’s expression softened, a shadow of compassion in his eyes. “I know,” he replied quietly. “I don’t blame you, Y/N. But I am not here to forgive, either.”

You nodded, a heavy silence settling over you both. The weight of the past hung thick in the air, filling the space between you, an invisible chasm that could never truly be crossed. Yet, even in that silence, there was an understanding, a recognition of shared loss and the scars it left behind.

Finally, Oberyn’s expression shifted, a flicker of his old charm resurfacing as he gave you a sardonic smile. “But tell me, Lady Lannister—how does it feel to bear that name? To share the bed of the man who holds our fates in his hands?”

You managed a faint, humorless smile, your voice soft but steady. “It feels… like survival, Oberyn. Nothing more, and certainly nothing less.”

He chuckled, though there was no real amusement in it. “Survival,” he echoed. “A fitting answer, I suppose. Just remember, Y/N… survival comes with a price.”

As he leaned back, pouring another glass of wine, Ellaria’s gaze softened as she watched you, her voice gentle. “If you ever need allies, Y/N… remember that we understand you, more than the lions ever could.”

You nodded, feeling the truth of her words settle deep within you. Here, in this darkened brothel, surrounded by the bitterness of shared pain and the fire of quiet vengeance, you felt a strange sense of kinship—a bond forged in blood, loss, and the relentless desire for justice.

And as you rose to leave, with Barristan by your side, you carried with you the weight of their words, their promise, and the unspoken knowledge that, though you wore the colors of a lion, the blood of the dragon and the Martell ties would never truly let you go.

In the quiet shadows of his private solar, Tywin sat at his desk, his fingers steepled as he listened to Littlefinger’s report, his expression as inscrutable as ever. Lord Baelish, standing just a few paces away, shifted his weight, his usual smooth smile in place, though his eyes were sharp, always watching, always calculating.

“The men you stationed around the brothel have remained vigilant, Lord Tywin,” Littlefinger reported, his tone measured. “No disturbances to speak of—at least, none beyond what’s customary in a place like that.” He allowed himself a wry smile, though Tywin’s cold gaze did little to encourage it.

Tywin’s gaze was fixed on a map stretched across his desk, though it was clear his thoughts lay elsewhere. “Good,” he replied curtly. “My wife’s safety is paramount. It is imperative that Prince Oberyn and his paramour understand that they are in King’s Landing at my discretion, not theirs.”

Littlefinger’s eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief. “Ah, Prince Oberyn. Quite the guest of honor, isn’t he?” He folded his hands neatly, his gaze never leaving Tywin’s. “Dorne is rarely so cooperative when it comes to Lannister matters. One has to wonder what they hope to accomplish by bringing him to the capital now.”

Tywin’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Oberyn’s presence here is a reminder of the alliance Dorne holds with the crown,” he stated, his tone as sharp as a blade. “They may smile and offer pleasantries, but they haven’t forgotten what happened to Elia, nor will they. I suspect Oberyn is here not only to attend the royal wedding but to assess how far we can be pushed.”

Littlefinger tilted his head, a glimmer of intrigue in his gaze. “And what do you intend to do about it, my lord?”

Tywin looked up, his eyes cold and calculating. “For now, we extend them the courtesy due to their status. The Martells are careful, and they won’t risk open defiance… yet.” He allowed himself a pause, studying Baelish’s expression as he continued. “But make no mistake—Oberyn and his ilk must be reminded that this is my realm. The Red Keep is not a playground for Dornish revenge fantasies.”

Baelish nodded slowly, a small smile curving his lips. “The Dornish are known for their tempers, after all. And Oberyn is as infamous for his passions as he is for his fighting skills. One might say he’s an ideal instrument to incite… disorder, if left unchecked.”

Tywin’s gaze remained unyielding, his tone filled with quiet disdain. “Disorder is something I do not tolerate. Prince Oberyn will have to curb his impulses while he’s in my city, or he will be reminded of the consequences of forgetting one’s place.” He leaned back, his gaze sharpening. “You are to keep your eyes on him, Baelish. Any shift in his intentions, any move that hints at more than courtesy—report it to me directly.”

Littlefinger inclined his head, his expression unreadable. “Of course, my lord. Though one has to wonder… might it not serve House Lannister’s interests to… encourage Oberyn’s passions in a more controlled setting? A bit of a… release valve, if you will.”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. “You mean to tempt him into some reckless act, a slip of temper that could justify an official response.”

Baelish allowed himself a slight shrug, his expression one of feigned innocence. “Not as crude as that, Lord Tywin, of course. But… Dorne is known for its pride. Oberyn is unlikely to let slights lie—he’ll strike if prodded.”

Tywin considered this, his fingers tapping lightly against the desk. “Oberyn Martell is not a fool,” he said slowly. “He knows we are watching him, and he knows the cost of defiance. But if he were… convinced to show his hand, to reveal just how far he’s willing to go—perhaps, yes, that would indeed serve a purpose.”

Littlefinger’s smile grew a fraction wider, his tone light and conspiratorial. “I may have just the contacts, my lord. A few whispers, a few… strategic pressures in the right quarters. Prince Oberyn may find himself slightly less at ease than he hoped.”

Tywin’s gaze held a glint of satisfaction, though he remained as stoic as ever. “Very well. Proceed. But ensure it’s done subtly. The last thing we need is for the Dornish to think they’ve been provoked outright.”

“Of course, my lord,” Littlefinger replied smoothly. “I would never think of disrupting such a… delicate balance.” He gave a slight bow, his eyes glinting with dark amusement. “And as for Lady Y/N’s protection, I assure you, the measures in place will continue. My men will see to it that her privacy and safety remain undisturbed.”

Tywin gave a short nod of approval, his gaze flickering to the map once more, though his mind seemed fixed on his growing plan. “Good. The fewer chances Oberyn has to weave himself into my wife’s affairs, the better.”

Littlefinger’s smirk deepened, though he kept his tone respectful. “It’s rare to see you so… invested, Lord Tywin.”

Tywin’s gaze darkened, a cold warning in his eyes. “My family is my legacy, Baelish. That is not something I gamble with. Remember that, as you work with those whispers of yours.”

Littlefinger inclined his head, his face the very picture of compliance. “Of course, my lord. I live to serve.”

With that, he slipped from the chamber, leaving Tywin to consider the intricate dance of alliances, enemies, and strategy that was unfolding with Oberyn Martell in King’s Landing.

Joffrey paced back and forth in the golden glow of the late afternoon, the flickering shadows playing across his features. The tension in his expression was unmistakable, his mouth pressed into a tight, dissatisfied line. Margaery watched him from her seat beside the large, open window, her calm demeanor masking the unease she felt as she observed the king’s agitation. She’d seen him like this before—when his pride had been bruised or when something had threatened his sense of power—and knew it was best to tread carefully.

“Joffrey,” she began gently, her voice warm and soothing, “perhaps you might tell me what’s on your mind. It pains me to see you so troubled.”

Joffrey stopped pacing, his eyes narrowing as he looked out the window, avoiding her gaze. “That… that child,” he hissed, venom lacing his words. “That Targaryen bastard Tywin has whelped on her. It has no place here, Margaery. And yet everyone’s acting as if it’s some great blessing to House Lannister!”

Margaery nodded, tilting her head thoughtfully, though her expression remained soft and supportive. “I understand,” she replied calmly. “A child with both Targaryen and Lannister blood would… naturally cause quite a stir. But remember, Joffrey, you are the king. No one can challenge that.”

Joffrey let out a sharp, derisive laugh, his hand gripping the back of a nearby chair so hard his knuckles turned white. “Do you think that matters to them? To Tywin? Or to… her?” He spat the last word with distaste. “They’ll all whisper, saying this child has a claim, saying that it has royal blood, that it deserves something… more.”

Margaery rose from her seat, crossing the room to place a gentle hand on his arm. “And yet, my love,” she said, her voice a soft murmur, “this child will be nothing more than an infant, while you are already crowned, already commanding the loyalty of lords and bannermen. Tywin Lannister knows where the power lies, Joffrey. He has sworn loyalty to you.”

Joffrey glanced down at her, his expression softening just slightly as her words seemed to calm him, though the tension didn’t fully leave his face. “You’re right,” he muttered, though his voice still carried a note of doubt. “But Tywin is ambitious. And if he has a child with Targaryen blood, what’s to stop him from making some… claim for it?”

Margaery kept her hand on his arm, her touch reassuring. “Tywin may be ambitious, yes, but he is also practical. He knows it’s unwise to risk a confrontation with you. And as your queen, I will stand by you, ensuring no one challenges your right to the throne.”

Joffrey’s expression softened further, his gaze finally meeting hers. “You always know what to say, Margaery. You make it sound so… simple.” He paused, his eyes flickering with something almost vulnerable. “But I don’t trust them. Not my grandfather, not the Targaryen whore he’s married, and certainly not the child.”

Margaery offered a faint smile, though inwardly, she made a mental note to discuss this development with her grandmother Olenna. “Then we shall be vigilant together, my king,” she said soothingly. “And if that child ever becomes a threat, we will deal with it… quietly.”

Joffrey seemed to take comfort in her words, a sly smile creeping onto his face. “Yes… quietly. That’s how it should be. I knew I could count on you, Margaery. You have a way of… understanding these things.”

Margaery’s smile remained warm, though her thoughts were elsewhere. She would need to speak with Olenna as soon as possible, to ensure they were prepared for any shift in the court’s dynamics brought about by this unexpected addition to the Lannister family.

“Of course, my king,” she replied, her voice steady. “I am here to support you, always.”

In the cold light of dawn, Stannis Baratheon sat alone in his tent, reading over the crumpled parchment that his spies had delivered to him just the night before. His brow was furrowed, lips pressed into a tight line, as he read the message again, the words seeming to smolder off the page with each reading.

Tywin Lannister’s Targaryen wife—the woman who should have been wiped out along with the rest of her kin—was with child. The blood of the dragon and the lion combined, an heir that, by the laws of inheritance, could lay a claim more legitimate than even Joffrey’s bastard lineage.

The tent’s entrance flap rustled, and Davos Seaworth stepped inside, his expression concerned as he took in the grim look on Stannis’s face.

“My lord,” Davos began, his voice low, respectful. “Is it true? The report… about Tywin’s wife?”

Stannis’s jaw tightened, his eyes cold and unyielding. “It’s true. Tywin’s Targaryen wife carries a child—a child that will carry both Targaryen and Lannister blood. There are some who might say that alone gives the whelp a stronger claim to the throne than anyone else.”

Davos frowned, concern deepening on his weathered face. “But… that’s impossible, my lord. The Targaryens were cast down. Your brother saw to that. The child has no true claim, no right to rule over you or anyone in the Seven Kingdoms.”

Stannis’s gaze turned icy, his voice laced with frustration. “Yet here we are, Davos. The whispers have already begun. And Tywin, with all his clever schemes, is bound to use this child to stir the minds of the lords, to make them doubt my own claim.”

Davos leaned forward, his voice earnest, pleading. “Then we should be cautious, my lord. Tywin Lannister has a way of twisting the truth, bending others to his will. If we react too rashly, we might play right into his hands.”

Stannis’s eyes burned with a fierce determination, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “Caution is weakness, Davos. I will not allow a child—a child of a tainted, dead bloodline that my brother tried to erase—to claim legitimacy over me. No child of the Mad King’s line will ever rule the Seven Kingdoms.”

There was a long, tense silence, and Davos could feel the chill in the air deepen as he realized the path Stannis’s mind was heading down. “What will you do, then?”

Stannis’s gaze shifted, growing colder, more resolute. “I will consult with Melisandre. She will have insight into this, into what this child means and how we can best… eliminate the threat.”

Davos’s heart sank, alarm flashing across his face. He took a step closer, his voice urgent. “My lord, please. Lady Melisandre’s methods are… not without consequence. Consulting her in matters of life and death—especially concerning an unborn child—may lead us down a dark path. One that may taint your honor.”

Stannis’s mouth tightened, his gaze hardening. “Honor does not win wars, Davos. And it does not secure thrones. If this child is born, it will be used as a symbol, a weapon against my rule. It will embolden Tywin’s allies, bolster support for a claim that should never exist. We cannot allow it.”

Davos held his gaze, desperation flickering in his eyes. “But, my lord, there is more to consider than just the claim. Killing an unborn child… it’s not justice, it’s vengeance. And vengeance will do nothing but erode the loyalty of those who follow you.”

Stannis looked away, jaw clenched, and he seemed to be struggling against something unseen. “I know the weight of my choices, Davos. But if we do nothing, we risk being overthrown before we even take King’s Landing. Tywin will not hesitate to use that child as a pawn, as a symbol of power that could rally the realm against us.”

Davos took a deep breath, his voice soft but firm. “I know you seek justice, my lord. And justice will come in time. But perhaps there is another way, one that does not require consulting with shadows or flames.”

Stannis’s face twisted, frustration and doubt warring within him. “I will speak to Melisandre,” he repeated, his voice like iron. “I will hear her counsel. Nothing more.”

Davos’s shoulders slumped slightly, but he did not give up. “Then at least allow me to be present, my lord. If nothing else, I can help temper her… enthusiasm.”

Stannis considered him, his gaze penetrating, and after a long moment, he gave a short nod. “Very well. But know this, Davos: my patience is running thin. I will not let a child born of treachery and deceit stand in the way of what I am owed.”

Davos felt the weight of Stannis’s resolve, and a chill ran through him, knowing how dangerous a path lay ahead. He could only hope that, in the end, there would be some way to save Stannis from the very shadows he sought to wield.

[georgiapeach30513]

Peach! Mrs. Pasta here...checking in for the second time in a few days!

Normally I just lurk in and smile to myself when I see your posts and banters with your followers. But tonight I just couldn't resist...

Ramen, bless him, is getting really good at the non-specific, vague-turnaround, deflective answers to personal questions! I'm impressed.

Also...Nobody keeps their hands more to themselves than Ramen does when he's around a lot of salty things. Is he on a low-sodium diet? Is that why he exercises such great self-control when it comes to these things? TBF, he's very gentlemanly when it comes to being around women, especially costars/colleagues.

I can see (most) people on here are either tired, upset, tired, over it, or a combination of both. I can understand that, especially for the mods that run these blogs. I notice that for a lot of people, separation of professional and personal for their favorite celebrity can be a difficult task. I don't blame anyone for feeling that way, it can be hard to "not think about THAT" when you just want to enjoy "THIS". I will say this though.

Something I have found time and again to be true, is that IF something/someone/someplace is meant for you, things will fall into place. If something is NOT meant for you, no matter what you do, things tend to fall apart. You can try and put it back together, but then something else falls. This has happened to me personally recently, where I was in a situation where I wanted to make something work because I thought I had no other choice and I didn't really want to rock the boat further and go searching for something else. Unfortunately, the more I tried, the more I compromised and kept on staying, the worse it got. I'd fix one thing, another would break. I'd get over one hurdle, another inconvenience would pop up. Finally, I decided to take matters in my own hands and started actually listening to what the universe was trying to guide me towards. It was very hard for me to do this, as I'm more of a logical/rational person, than a spiritual one (I don't really like reading signs or feeling energies to tell me what to do)...But I tried a different approach, and started asking the universe, "If this isn't right, what should I do?" And I would listen and wait, and then tangible things would happen, and then I started making different decisions and taking different approaches. Almost immediately, things started changing for the better. I'm in a much better place now (figuratively and literally).

Just some food for thought: Let things play out. They will. And hindsight is always 20/20. Think about it. I believe Anne's blog has a library that can be helpful for those interested. If all else fails, keep coming to Jen's blog where she posts stories, baking, and general hilarity to keep everyone's spirits up. You are truly a beautiful soul, Miss GeorgiaPeach! <3

Mrs. Pasta! Welcome back. Clearly, your presence has been much needed this past week. Which I do say that there is a reason one shouldn’t consume too much sodium. I suppose were all bloated, and now need to fast.

Ramen is quite smart. He’s playing it coy and vague, non-definite answers. He’s doing good, despite a quick facial change with some questions. It’s funny to watch.

For someone that is quite a gentleman and claims to love PDA his hands do seem quite to himself. But it is a family movie after all, wouldn’t want to be too obvious, I suppose.

I think a lot of people are tired, and more so tired of ongoing arguments that suck the life out of the fandom, much like an overly salted diet. So maybe it’s just the influx of salt that has everyone red in the face? But this is why I implore anyone to curate the space that you want. Filter tags, block blogs, unfollow blogs, create the space that you watch to see with personalities that jive well with your own.

The universe is quite a tricky lady. She usually makes way for things that are for you. Usually when you try to fit a square peg in a round hole, you’re met with resistance. You can sit there, and smile you’re doing it, but others around you will eventually be able to see that you are in fact creating a bigger problem with an impossible task. I’m glad you were able to get to a better place once you listened, and were aware that what you’re forcing isn’t for you.

I do think that hindsight is 20/20. There always seems to be something poking around that pops up at the last minute. Eventually things either fall into place, or you’ve created a big mess. @anneslibrary is a great well of information. And of course @annislittleshopofhorrors herself is a peach in her own right. You are a beautiful soul from the inside out as well, Mrs. Pasta. Take care, and never feel afraid to pop on by when you can.

[lilyrealm]

i lied i changed the tag immediately. anywayyy maybe ill just start typing and see if inspo comes to me. i think itd be kind of funny if in this au ei and makoto arent even related, ei is just an actual android body double commissioned for makoto. i cant rmb, inazuma didnt know makoto existed right? did they just not know there was a handover 500 years ago... but yea thats gonna add a little identity crisis to the mix (remembers fontaine) wait... ok we'll get to there when we get there!! inazuma first

i suppose yae is just made for the shrine... everyone else that has like a normal job, just assume theyre made for their normal job ok. ittos is not a normal job tho. UNLESS... genius strat where they make a "gang leader" that is actually harmless and even plays with kids, but is capable of overpowering other gangs, thus. no actual criminal gangs!! we onto smth here. kuki wouldnt be needed tho but since she has that shrine story she can be one of those that had their purpose changed perhaps. how? well either its sentience or someone behind the scenes 🤷‍♀️ dont think abt it too deeply

who else... everyone else is kind of self explanatory i think. they just... do their jobs/help people they work alongside. i suppose kokomis different since shes in a position of power, and they have that family line jazz, so its kind of weird for her to be a commercial (celestia) android. maybe we can just assume technology is fairly advanced in this era so theyre not all commercial? people can just make their own. oh yeah this ties back into daydreams' original concept of like... broken down models being fixed up by readers... who knows, maybe people even make imitations. hm. maybe that should be neuvillette since hes an enemy of celestiaOkay i keep jumping to fontaine for some reason

should i keep it to one nation a reblog or just keep going. imma keep going. now how do we fit in rukkhadevatas whole thing... i also dont claim to be very knowledgeable about all the desert stuff (and havent finished the pari quest😭) but its probably also not celestia approved so maybe its also a separate faction? wait hold on. the forbidden knowledge can just be. a virus. and some buggy code is left in rukkhadevatas memory so nahida had to delete her loooool okay with how tech they made sumeru this fits really nicely.

im gonna say cynos bad jokes+tcg interest was not scripted at all cuz idk why theyd do that unless some engineer was like wouldnt it be funny. i mean thats also possible ig but like with kuki, sentience is an option... i think this entire au was (partially) inspired when i read smth (an anon on daydream's blog maybe?) about alhaitham and nahida being school guides or something. alhaitham proobably wouldnt be a teacher type i think he just helps them do admin and is fully aware the sages delegate a lot of work to the "scribe" bc they know hes an android. oooh but maybe they keep it quiet and not even everybody knows hes an android so hes like Lol if youre gonna masquerade me as a human you better treat me like one and give me time off and holiday pay etc. yeah thats funny

...i have no idea how to fit in his and kavehs roommate situation. it would be funny if kaveh wasnt an android and just had no idea (bonus angst when he finds out and is like uve been lying to me?!?!) though i did start this thinkihg vision holders would all be androids. WAIT WHAT DOES THAT MEAN FOR THE VISION HUNT DECREE. oh i guess its just "deactivate that mf" huh. no thats weird cuz yoimiya wouldnt be able to be "alive" for the coup... maybe it fr just disables their elemental powers. which could be connected to their ambitions who knows, that could be the original concept.

okay now weve got that squared away, back to sumeru. ill put kaveh on the backburnerWait. what if there was like a. make someone into an android a la nikke bc theyre dying or just because. and he did that but now hes broke bc of the payment for it. okayy maybe.

also im thinkin if usually the ppl in charge commission these droids (i mean that might spoil a lot of the rebellion plotlines) maybe celestia also just randomly releases models that werent commissioned... okay what i wanted to get at was, the sages wouldnt have commed nilou (unless they were more lenient on the arts in the past which is possible i just cant rmb) but if not i guess she can just be a random celestia release. who the fuck made layla

aaaand ive been avoiding the elephant in the room... scaramouche. i do love the idea of each of his forms being different models. ahhh it would be cool if ei actually did make him, not celestia. using her own knowledge and power but shes not perfect and neither is he (ok thats not why she deemed him unsuitable) (omg. it was bc he cried on birth and she was like ah hes too soft (human) HaHaHa that would be really Funny if it reminds her of makoto Lol)

so... kabukimono escapes his holding and tatarasuna happens... damn the whole irminsul-history-wipe thing doesnt really work here. unless, if we are still setting this in the original universe with magic and stuff, just with MORE androids, then i guess irminsul could exist. just that instead of being a corrupting Thing in rukkhadevata, the forbidden knowledge is a corrupting virus. 👍

back to scara. there isnt much to change here, he can absolutely still have his human crisis because none of the people he stayed with were vision holders so he never met a fellow android. and hes also different from fellow androids anyway since ei made him! wow! double whammy! anyway dottore

everything is just the same actually. like this doesnt change anything in the plot they still make that fuckass robot. okay is there anything else in sumeru im missing. oh right earlier i was like why would they make layla cuz i was like. they should not encourage sleeping in class. but it could be like, yk, relatable to students, but she still gets work done so yk no excuse (except that shes an android)!! i also know she has some identity issues but i havent done her hangout yet so... gonna leave it there, idk if itll affect this too much. faruzans just a teacher, etc etc, dori could be a plant or just commissioned/made by the black market lol

cyno and sethos' Thing... hmmmmmmm. i guess, instead of kids they just made two androids to be the host for the the soul of h. im trying to remember but all thats coming to mind is hamarhaft which is a weapon in bg3. quick google: hermanubis. yes. oooh so maybe cyno isnt commissioned by the sages at all! yeah okay that makes things make sense!

hmmmmm. collei. she didnt have a vision in the manga, right... perhaps dottores experiment is to "fix" eleazar patients by combining them/putting their brain into an android? yeah that sounds plausible (dottore fans dont gut me cuz i never read too deeply into his experiments)

that should be all outliers in sumeru? onto fontaiWAIT I FORGOT ABOUT KAZUHA. hm. hmmm. yk its possible that the inazuma clans comm their own androids, so like, the kamisatos... (i also think itd be an extra layer to ayakas angst if the public didnt know they were androids.) so maybe the kaedeharas made one on the last of their money lol. his friend is i really dont know he could be anything, all that matters is hes an android (had a vision) and was killed by ei (driving a sword through an android should probably fuck it up. especially if the sword is empowered by elemental magic and ei was part of the original archon lineup).

then he fucks off to explore the world. definitely not a commercial android. haha even though he and scara would be popular choices (not necessarily tgt) but i accidentally made them one of a kind so no you cant really go to the market and buy a scara android. though i suppose that does delve more into "genshin plot is just a story the company made to drive sales" rather than "genshin plot is happening right now".

baaaack to fontaine. oooh boy oh boy. to start, focalors was against celestia from the start, though i dont think itd be too bad to say they made her and she went r—wait i forgot, the previous hydro archon passed the title to her. side note what the fuck are oceanids in this au. androids lite. nah maybe they can still be oceanids. so the prev hydro archon (egaria? no its egeria) passed the title of archon to focalors. perhaps she did an ei and made her own droid? how does passing the archon title work with this though... unless archon isnt really assigned the androids, thats just what they called the initial lineup and those that still have that initial model treat them as gods. so egarias the commercial bot that went rogue. or something im looking at her wiki and the history is... um a lot more complicated im not even sure if she was part of the original archon lineup. okay thats not important. whats important is: what the fuck is furina???

furina is supposed to be part fontainian, so part oceanid... magic fuse an oceanid with a droid and bam...! but splits them in two... shit then the droid is the one hiding instead lol. but hey with all their pneuma ousia shit maybe it needs to be a droid converting all that energy! but normal fontainians are not immortal the way furina is/was sooo... idk we're mixing scifi and fantasy magic so theres probably something connecting the two of them to each other, some battery inside them, or maybe furinas like 1/4 droid while focalora is 1/4 oceanid. that could work.

WHAT THE FUCK IS NEUVILLETTE. clearly not made by celestia. lol since they stole the power from the dragons its just an old company that maybe pioneered this tech but celestia stole it!?!? i feel like i should be thinking about khaenriah here. but anyway. neuvillette canonically isnt pure dragon so maybe its like... the creators have lost some of their materials or process due to celestia so they cant make a proper dragon again. so they just make a humanoid also to masquerade under celestias gaze (spoiler: they aint even notice?)

so how does the transfer of power work... focalors kills herself, WHAT THE HELL IS THE WHALE DOING HERE, and gives up her "archon powers"... which, here, can be some kind of magical tech that neuvillette takes. bit more manual work perhaps but we ball

okay. the fatui. the tsaritsa (glances at wiki) isnt even the original cryo archon, but otherwise we dk much. but i think its prooobably fair to assume she makes the fatui. or does nikke shit like dottore was gonna do except like better. and delusions? just. fucked up versions of the elemental magic (visions) other bots have ORRR its just terrible for mortals since its not that bad for visionholders. spews toxic shit idk. REGARDLESS. okay obviously not all the fatui are from snezhnaya... maybe she makes the normal fatui army looool ok ignore ALL of this since we dont really know anything about her, i was just trying to figure out the house of hearth 😭😭😭

so. we have to remember the fontainian oceanid thing. hold on what the fuck then fontainians cant be androids here since theyre full human(ish). hmm. hmmmmm. alright, so, hm. fuck. i dug myself into a hole. OKAY. lets see. what if the fontainians are all actually a kind of oceanid-droid egeria made. its just that focalors has extra archon tech in her from egeria. so all fontainians have like (i was gonna say kill switch which im not sure is better than dissolving to water honestly) a latent ability to become magical (get visions) to make up for... celestia not giving them any because they were like what the fuck, egeria.

i mean its also possible celestia also sent normal androids there you just cant tell. and its not like everyones tested the primordial water, maybe they actually wont be affected (who would even want to risk it lol), you really just cant tell. like we can just say all the playable/important chars we know never touched primordial water (well obviously. cuz theyre. still alive)

pause i just saved this as a draft just in case i accidentally like close the app and i realised i DO have another draft talking about inazuma bots. and it had this crazy idea of the real ayato and ayaka dying so they made bots of them. but the other stuff i wrote there about ei is not as interesting as the one i wrote here tho so scrap that. i did have one interesting line about venti and zhongli not being their original prototype archon model anymore and ei still was because she just makes new models/upgrades. then its funny cuz im like yea rukkhadevata probably figured that out with the irminsul (nahida must be a new model) and fontaine has its own problem so its just. venti and zhongli. old ass men being the originals. WAIT WHAT IF VENTIS APPEARANCR WAS JUST THE NAMELESS BARD AND THEY NIKKEFIED HIM. what is a wind spirit. actual wind spirit or little ai lmao.......

ok so back to um, the HoH. arle only gets her vision after becoming the knave, right, she fights the whoever orphanage mom with her own blood powers first (wtf is that btw i feel like theres no explanation in game but ig it doesnt appear much in game either so its okay...?) maybe just a defective bot or smth... MOVING ON i just wanted to get to the trio siblings...

wow okay i wanted to get to them cuz i like them but now that im here im like... what could i say. theyre the "doing jobs" droids again. cant even say theyre fatui made bc of the fontainian thing and most of them are just normal people. sorry damn. damn i think the rest of the chars are also just "doing jobs" droids. oh well

i havent touched natlan at all so i cant say anything about them 🤷‍♀️ JESUS THIS WAS LONG AF WHATS WRONG WITH ME (the undiagnosed autism, my oomfs would say)

SHUT UP OMG i just looked at my drafts again, i had ANOTHER inazuma draft written where id alr come up w the idea of makoto being human. ah well. Wait this doesnt mesh with makoto also considered an archon before ei took over LETS WORRY ABT THAT LATER CUZ that short draft also had an extra concept for the kamisatos which is. parents couldnt conceive so they commed ayato and ayaka without telling the public theyre androids. so its either they start androids or replace humans... im thinking start because theres not really enough time between the familys deaths to make new models of them. unless their deaths were separate and earlier and somehow kept very hushed up... yeah no. they were always androids. WHEW NOW WE'RE DONE. I PROMISE. MAYBE

i simply think it is so fun to imagine a world where a company makes a bunch of androids to assist people and provide companionship so they give the androids stories and release them in certain themes or lines and those androids are the genshin characters. credit to @yandere-daydreams for the idea. i love it so much. yes we all want x character to be our boyfriend or girlfriend and we have sex with them yes but i think its fun to imagine their roles when theyre not being yandere...

also the read more is very long i just went off about my ideas for most of the mondstadt characters. nothing wrong with me

if this is set in teyvats world imagine amber being like a gliding instructor in mondstadt. good engineer too, maybe the first bot that can fix other bots/have intricate knowledge of them (because she made baron bunny).

for human injuries theres barbara and jean, but with different temperaments for different patients. or if we're still set in teyvat, then jean (and the rest of the favonius knights characters) are actually android assistants to the actual human knights. basically the androids replace vision holders??

but yeah kaeya would also be a knight assistant, noelles story is she trains super hard but still isnt a knight (because shes made to help actual trainees!). lisa of course manages the library. yeah sorry thats it. makes tea

and i had the idea (this is all stolen from my own twitter thread from *checks* last year? anyway) that they would tease the release of bots like diluc, rosaria and razor through voicelines from kaeya, barbara and lisa. really like the idea of razor originally being some sort of surveillance android for wolvendom/integrating with them in some way for research and sort of became a guide for people who get lost in wolvendom.

diona and diluc are two different types of bartenders, one is good against people who cant say no to a cute (angry) kitty and the others... are those require some intimidation.

VENTI. god, i think itd be cool if they had prototype models for the seven archons and actual venti bots now definitely play into the "broke bard who plays for alcohol" thing. but of course anyone with eyes knows that his original model was the barbatos android.

oh!! and bennett and fischl being adventurers buddies. bennett is "unlucky" but hes actually like, wired to be hypervigilant and take hits for you while he shrugs it off. and fischl comes with oz if you need some chuuni speech translated, but you can disable that if you want to go full rp with her.

*looks at my thread* oh yeah "Albedo is made for the alchemists in the Knights, and he was meant to be released with Klee, but there was a delay because his ai kept experimenting on its own copies (Flowerfell Albedo?)" ngl i didnt play the albedo event and never bothered to watch a video so i dont know the full extent of his lore here. oh right and i added "sucrose is made to keep an eye on him in the labs" lmao

klee is. i suppose made for the knights. a cute energetic girl to keep morale up, whos fireproof and thus able to scout dangerous areas/bomb them if you so wish.

oh yeah i wrote that the church was not happy about the rosaria bots being made so they relegated her to guarding dragonspine against foolish adventurers. as to why she keeps appearing in bars, well, uh. No comment — Celestia Inc.

the lawrence clan wanted in on this business and sponsored a representative of their family, but mondstadts opinion of them is less than friendly, so the knights compromise and make eula, a lawrence knight.

whew okay for some reason i was able to churn out a lot for mondstadt and then everyone else i was like uh yeah. they exist and do things similar to what they do in game like xiangling being a cook's aide. yep. idk why the mondstadt worldbuilding gripped me so hard like that.

also my last thought is that maybe the hilichurls are just the verryyy alpha version of their bots, the khaenri'ah line (i think daydream mentioned this) and maybe just broke down and went rogue/abandoned. so now they make better bots to fight them and keep people safe. go figure. earns them a ton of cash though. lol imagine if getting them was a lottery too....

[euphorial-docx]

ngl i get very disappointed when i see “gay regulus black” tags under the jegulily tag…. like… damn :/ a lot of people hate to see hot people kiss apparently

[forgettable-au]

FORGETTABLE-AU (Page 44-47)

*...

[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]

[98chao]

Yummers

[wasyago]

we're at it again🕺

[waitineedaname]

not romantic or platonic but a secret third thing (bonded pair)

[algoreithms]

will you draw david 8 & shaw from prometheus ..

the adventures of freakboy and hatergirl

[thebrainrotsreal]

BACK ON MY INVINCIBLE MLP CROSSOVER JOY!!! I love this crossover smmmm, my soul is happy, cured even, treated of all possible ills. For Andressa's species, instead of relying on a horn for magic (which they don't have), every filly is bestowed a gem for magic! AND, because I want it, Oliver has some winks to Andressa's designs with the swirls on his legs mimicking the lines on hers, sharing a thinly tail, tiny little bumps like spikes, and the curls sorta kinda maybe like her antennae (if you squint and believe, which you should). Andressa and Oliver ilysm. Best purple pony on the planet tbh, sorrry not sorry Twilight Sparkle :/

Bonus drawing of Oliver trying to practice magic by lifting a sheet of paper, he's trying his best, ok???

[wybienova]

dream visit (nostalgia) - a 2nd anniversary katfl comic

[front-facing-pokemon]

[yume-fanfare]

day 7 of torikasa week is future! what will they do after graduation?

[sluckythewizard]

'I wont cry for you, I wont crucify the things you do. I wont cry for you, see, when you're gone, I'll still be BLOODY MARY'

[almakrowan]

Don't mind me posting a small Clip Studio Pain tip! (I'll be posting these here time to time as well!)

📝Did you know that you can edit the grid of your mesh transformation tool in Clip Studio?

(this tip is for license version 1 and up!)

---------------------

A FOOTNOTE: I will be ONLY sharing tips for PRO version since this is the version I use 🩷🙏 So you can use these tips in both PRO and EX as well!

I'll be doing my best to add the license version information as well!