#ok going back to playing dragon age. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eldrith · 4 months ago

Note

i literally just thought abt this ajehbsha but like what if the reader was jace's bethrothed that was "killed" by the greens during the dance, but was actually captured and brainwashed her to be an assasin ksjwbsna

think of it somewhat like bucky barnes

safe flight on ur trip!:)

BABE YOUR MIND…. also i haven't seen the marvel movies in ages so im kinda going off what i can recall . and i took this in a bit of a diff direction i hope thats ok but i love this i could write a whole fucking book about this omfg. your mind is beautiful id love to keep it in a jar warnings: mentions of torture, death, assassinations, angst, allusions to smut if you squint, targcest bc its implied you are aegon's sister/of valyrian blood, brief allusion to suicidal thoughts, fluff mostly at the end and is a bit canon divergent. and yes i know this is 3.1k words but it's still a headcanon ok. its just a great concept

you and jacaerys are betrothed when you are young.

despite this, you remain close; shy smiles, kind whispers and youthful awkwardness that blossoms into a strong, devoted friendship. you're to be queen - and he, king. indeed you study for your future duties side by side, with prideful grins - and along the way, you find time for yourselves.

in youth, it is in teaching jacaerys to sew and read tarot, painting, or maybe even showing him the game you used to play with your brothers; it is in him teaching you to wield a sword, studying high valyrian together, him showing you how to climb the castle's ramparts, and inviting you along with he and luke to throw stones at the sea.

as you grow old, it is in jacaerys giving you rides on vermax, dancing with him any chance you can, exploring nature - mountains with caves and tall waterfalls that he pulls you under with feverish kisses, finding ways to sneak to each other's chambers; it is in you kissing his cheek and teasing him when his face grows pink, bringing lucerys along with the two of you when you begin to sneak out of the castle, in sharing too many cups of wine and stumbling to your quarters, in hands weaving through each other's hair.

it is nice.

but then, the war.

things are as okay as they can be for a while- duty is a blessing and a curse for you both. tensions mount. jacaerys feels like everything is falling apart, but he has you; his best friend, his lover, his favorite person in the entirety of the seven kingdoms. you cry with each other, train with each other, sneak off when things become too intense in court. you begin to whisper about a secret wedding, a traditional valyrian one; intimate, quiet.

he just wants to call you his wife, and you just want to call him your husband. but duty has a way of interfering with even the sweetest plans.

the evening jace leaves to treat at winterfell, you clasp a chain round his neck, one you strung your favorite ring through; a keepsake, perhaps. or as he likes to think, a reminder of you during the cold nights in the north.

despite it all, things are okay.

until he loses you.

you are killed with your dragon, defending a crucial line of passage for their men; vhagar and aemond are the last ones to see you as your dragon spirals beyond a hill, wings singed and aflame. you vanish.

jace is overwhelmed with grief.

the news comes just as he's beginning to find himself in a new world - a world without his younger brother - and he, an empty pit of grief and despair, isolates himself from others. consumed by sorrow and rage, his emotions spiral out of control - snapping, yelling, unable to contain his emotions even at council.

his days are marked by a deep mourning that he's unsure will ever be mended. life continues in its droll capacity - the war rages on, and jace becomes more bitter, and more like his great uncle daemon. bloodthirsty, demanding revenge.

and then, you return from the dead.

the day you come back to him is rainy and drowsy. he had foolishly, or in a bout of grief, not noticed the sounds of dragon overhead the caste; a dragon whose screech he had not heard in many moons.

his mother is the one to find him - alone, staring at the hearth in his quarters, eyes filmed with the glossy haze of sorrow.

rhaenyra's face is ghostly, sickly - and he grows immediately concerned as he sees her expression, rising to grasp her arms. "mother, are you well?"

he is shocked when he hears her whisper out: "she's alive."

his worry for his mother vanishes, blinded by her words. you. you're...

and despite being ordered to remain, his legs carry him out - to you. his mother's own footfalls follow behind him, her voice begging. he does not listen, even when she warns him - there is something that isn't right.

when he finally finds you he's elated, heart nearly stopping when your eyes meet.

but there's something missing.

when he takes you into his arms, you're cold; barely blinking, you are not who you used to be.

his own tears distort his vision as he cups your face, pressing a kiss to your full lips - and perhaps that is why he does not notice the sullen, empty look on your face. but he feels it in the way your lips do not kiss back.

jace tries to ignore it, at first.

as you are nursed back to physical health, you avoid telling the court of the truth. all that is revealed is the harrowing tale of your mangled body, put back together by the maester in the red keep; your mutilated dragon, whose health was dangled over your head by your own brother, the one whose head bears a crown that is not his.

you do not speak of your time, but the nightmares you wake from, screaming your throat raw, speak for themselves.

you heal.

you begin to show some signs of humanity after the initial shock subsides; and when you begin to seek his touch, he is glad for that semblance of what you used to have.

but it isn't the same.

you flinch at the slightest movements; your face, once expressive and joyful, is rarely lax of the straight, icy stare you send mostly towards walls. he knows he must be patient; you've endured something he could not imagine - but he cannot help his unease.

you do not speak as you used to - lapse in memory, seemingly unfamiliar with jacaerys; as if you did not grow up together, running down halls, whispering secrets, notching each other’s heights in the frame of your chamber’s threshold.

he can't help when he begins to turn away from your lips, avoiding the mechanical feeling of your mouth upon his, the coldness of your eyes when you attempt to unlace his tunic.

he feels as though it is a different person that tries to kiss him each time. he grows incredibly lonely.

in time, he is suspicious of you. you're... different. during conversations, you forget important details, you cannot recall milestones or memories you used to cherish.

the way your palm fits oddly into his, the way you no longer brush his hair back when it falls into his eyes. you call him jacaerys, or your grace - that, indeed, is the first seed planted in the suspicion of his mind. always jacaerys, never jace - and when he asks you what you do with all the time you spend alone in your chambers, you lock up as if mute.

when performing certain duties around the queen, your eyes would slide to odd objects, or pay close attention to cupbearers and how the queen enjoys her wine.

and he begins tracking your walks when you think you're alone: he discovers you sending ravens with a cloak pulled low over your head, visiting odd alleys in town and disappearing into the lower bowels of peculiar shoppes.

jace goes to daemon, of all people - daemon, first. he knows his stepfather's reputation—ruthless, cunning, and fiercely protective; if anyone can help him discern the truth, it's him. "something is not right," he tells him, worried daemon would somehow turn it into something it's not.

even worse, though, is that daemon is quick to agree. and when jace tells his mother, she confesses her own concern.

"that isn't her," his voice warbled when he tells his mother - lip, trembling, tears tracking down his cheeks as she pulls him into her embrace, her own fear poorly concealed.

when it finally happens, it is a shock to his entire body.

a mere word; murmured, off-hand at a council you happened to be attending - of which you often no longer attended, your trauma and recovery from the kidnapping having sequestered you to your quarters most days.

"Usurper," he'd said.

and then your head had snapped up.

a change in your face - as if no longer human, you’d leapt, ripping out a dagger that had been concealed in your bodice.

and then you'd lunged at him; slicing like a hound rabid for a piece of meat.

he does not remember much besides his reaction: striking you across the cheek and disarming you- kicking hard, your body being thrown to the stone. four swords at your throat. daemon holding you down with a look of disbelief at your heaving frame.

you were relentless, ready to kill - but you are too small, and the rest too many.

a stinging pain, throbbing at his neck as he watches you in shock.

but that was not you - a statue, some sleeping beast that'd been awoken in your tortured brain at the trigger of such a word. it had nearly been worse than when you'd died.

brainwashed, maester gerardys tells them.

it is not until after you have been thrown into the cells below and a bandage sealed around jace's neck.

the blade was one of green and black hilt; intended, likely, for the queen herself - in hopes that she'd have been the first one to utter the word.

likely, maester gerardys says, you were led to believe you'd been abandoned by them, and subsequently tortured for all the time you'd been held at the red keep.

and of course, there was the threat of further maiming your dragon, perhaps, or other similar threats - and physical torture, if the scars on your body are anything to go by; this twists a raw agony in jace's gut and he has to shut his eyes to ward off the thought of you, in pain.

it is a miracle you did not lose your head for nearly slitting the throat of the crown prince; he contests while still lying abed with the open slice of red across his throat, relieved when his mother informs him you are still among the living. she is a merciful queen.

he does not weep until he is alone that night.

breaking the brainwashing is the hardest part.

nights, falling asleep in his brothers or his mother's quarters where your screams of anguish or anger could not be heard - days walking past your heavily guarded chamber to reach his own, swallowing thick as he imagines you on the other side.

isolation is key, he's been told, but it makes it so much worse.

it takes so long that jacaerys nearly forgets what your voice sounds like, how your eyes shine in the sun. he forgets how your smile, beautiful and uneven, makes his heart flip; the taste of your lips, the cadence of your voice.

he even finds himself praying to the seven for the first time since he was just a babe.

slowly, as you begin to heal, you are permitted to see others. he is not allowed, nor is his mother - daemon first, then baela and rhaena with their grandmother. servants and maids.

he begins to hear you again. walking past the chambers which lie near his own, he'd hear your voice, conversing quietly with maester gerardys. when he dozes off over a strategy tome at his desk, he is jolted awake by your gentle, haunting humming; a tune he used to love.

his mother tells him it is not healthy to keep it in.

but he cannot bring himself to speak of it.

shame, pain, anguish, embarrassment - heartbreak. he has grieved you twice over, seen you become a ghost. he has lost you and lost you again.

herbs, potions, guided discussions and meditations. solitary confinement, exposure to the word - all of this, and you begin to shed the skin of whatever person they had made you into.

he pretends that he does not endure nightmares of that day every time his eyes close - of the glint of your knife, the soulless stare of your eyes. the swelling bruise on your cheek - in the shape of his own fist.

there is a thin scar, a puckered pink line of fresh skin across the apple of his throat the next time he sees you.

it's an accident; he walks past just as a maid leaves your chambers, and he naturally glances over. your eyes meet him, hair wet and fresh from bathing; wide as a sweet doe, pain and regret laced through your gaze. "jace."

his throat is tight when he hears your voice - gentle, laced with remorse. jace, you'd called him. he hides the tears in his eyes when he continues briskly past your chambers. he thinks about you ceaselessly the rest of the day.

he's told you do not sleep. you eat only when it becomes impossible not to, you cannot make meaningful eye contact nor hold steady conversations without breaking down in guilt. it eats away at him.

but as you begin to show signs of improvement, jacaerys is finally allowed to visit.

they're brief, supervised; he brings paintings, books, and anything they believe could help stimulate your memory of life before your change. he tries to ignore the sting of pain when you barely meet his gaze, voice stuttering, hands shaking.

you’re still not you; flickering eyes, quiet voice. but soon, after moons of quiet conversation, stunted by the armored guards standing between you and observing your every move, it changes.

little by little, he sees glimpses of you again. you laugh like you used to. you recount stories of your shared youth - with a grin, you remember the day he'd fallen from an apple tree trying to pick you a fruit, and you'd had to snap his arm into correct place.

you brush flecks of dust and lint from his shoulder with shy looks, you share the books you’ve been reading; one day, you ask him to braid your hair - a task you'd taught him in youth. you fall asleep when he's halfway through.

and yes, there are bad days - days where your grief and guilt eat your stomach and you refuse to even look him in the eye; when you sob into your hands and curl yourself on the chaise longue and jace is stuck, heartbroken, watching you push him away.

you do not forgive yourself, you will not let him forgive you - but you soon let him hold you, and you soon begin to hold him back with a desperate grip.

it takes a while for jace to accept help.

but soon, he undergoes his own healing process; he knows he must reconcile the grief of losing you with the joy of having you back, albeit changed.

eventually, he speaks openly with you about the death of lucerys and about your own assumed death as well. you stroke his hair when he cries into your chest, you kiss his nose and cheeks to rid the tracks of tears.

during quieter moments, you find solace in each other's presence. you walk together in the gardens, hand in hand, your steps in sync as you talk about the future; you sit by the hearth in the evenings, your heads close as you share whispered conversations and stolen glances.

you broach the subject one stormy day, your beautiful hair loose and whipping around your head.

he watches your mind churn behind those eyes, the ones that have regained their expressive nature - the eyes he's loved since before he knew such a word.

"i would have killed you." it's a whisper into the wind. "and yet, you saved my life."

your voice is not grateful - to his horror, it is pained - as if you believe such repentance could only be achieved through greeting the stranger.

he shakes his head, "it was not you who did it." but you've heard it countless times, and you still find it hard to accept - guilt swims in your beautiful eyes.

"i love you." he whispers it.

tears drop from your eyes as you look at him. "why?"

eventually, the fog clears fully.

you remember the details of your manipulation, the torture, the indoctrinating, the conditioning. you confess it all to queen rhaenyra and the dragonstone court - voice shaking and body bent with shame, you apologize for your weakness. jace has to look away when you begin to cry, when you beg for forgiveness, for another chance.

it is given without hesitance.

one evening, you sit by the fire with him.

something upon him catches your eye; with a tentative reach, your fingers brush his chest. jace looks down, breath catching as he realizes what you've found; gently, you pull the necklace from his tunic - a ring upon it, untarnished. your smile is sad, sorrowful - "you kept it," you whisper.

he can only nod, eyes never leaving yours. "i never took it off."

it is that night you tell him about a dream you had; you were both young again, carefree and in love. his eyes glisten with unshed tears just as yours do, and he takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "we'll get there," he promises, his voice unwavering. you both believe it.

you come back to him in ways he doesn't expect.

longing glances, eyes holding on his lips when he speaks to you - short teases that release your sharp tongue and quick wit. you are given some old duties back. kept to the castle, you mostly held draw efforts from within, but he can see the fire in your eyes return as the guilt subsides.

when the word usurper is accidentally used in conversation, eyes still flicker to you. there will remain wariness - conscious or not - for the rest of your days. but you prove yourself loyal and trustworthy, and you soon begin to forgive yourself.

nights you spend in jace's arms, fingers brushing against the scar you'd given him. tears are replaced with soft kisses upon lips, and eventually upon flushed, sweat-laced skin.

he is terrified each time you ride into battle - even when he and vermax are alongside you.

perhaps it is a weakness - to worry so, during a war; he cannot help it. but to his relief, you always come out unscathed, as does he - and you always slide off the wing of your dragon and pull him to you, murmuring into his neck, soothing over his back with your palm once you return.

you love him, and you tell him as much any chance you get. you begin to stop wincing when he tells you he loves you, too.

you still wake sometimes with a hoarse throat, but now you are soothed back to sleep when jace, bleary eyed and heart pounding, crawls into your bed alongside you. your cries turn into soft puffs of breath as he braids your hair until you fall asleep.

you still sometimes flinch when someone raises a hand, jace sometimes watches with wariness when he sees you wielding a knife.

but eventually the war ends.

you and jace marry.

a traditional, valyrian one; dragonglass sliced into lips, palms. a kiss that tastes of metal, of loyalty, of love. you whisper the words to each other, no echo of ghosts nor fear in your minds.

one flesh, one heart, one soul. now and forever.

you become prince and princess of dragonstone, first in line for the succession to the iron throne.

you show to be just rulers; fair and kind, strong willed and bright. ceaselessly, fiercely in love.

your firstborn son is named lucerys.

he has jace's eyes and your hair. you sing him the song jace remembers you humming those days after you came back to them - and when the queen visits to give her congratulations and to meet her grandbabe, the heir to the heir, she calls you daughter.

the scar upon his neck fades away, until you can scarcely trace it with your finger as he pulls you to him in the late hours of eve, wrapped in furs and the soft flicker of candlelight.

you do not hear the word usurper again.

requests open, or talk to me <3 taglist/mutuals; @bitchydragonparadisee @lukehughes43 @rhea-ripley @jottositto @chloe-petrichors @softspiderling @dipperscavern

#requests #jace thoughts ༊*·˚#jace x reader #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #jace smut #prince jacaerys #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd smut #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #jacaerys fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon imagine #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jace fanfic #jace imagine

520 notes · View notes

felassan · 8 days ago

Text

Polygon article.

Rest of post under a cut due to length and possible spoilers.

“I’ll say one of the greatest challenges of this game, but also one of the most enjoyable things, was, How do the Dalish react when their gods are out in the world and rampaging?” creative director John Epler told Polygon. It seems that across the board every Dalish elf in the game pretty much rejects their risen gods now that they’ve shown their true hand. Two of Rook’s companions, elven historian Bellara Lutare and Grey Warden Davrin, come from Dalish clans themselves and even though they’re a little shaken about confronting their gods, they’re not conflicted about doing so. In fact, among Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain’s lackeys and puppets, there’s not a single elf to be found. Epler said that it’s vindication for the Dalish — which is nice to see considering how they’ve been portrayed in past games. “Dragon Age has not always been the kindest to the Dalish,” he said. “Somebody once made a joke to me, and it’s not untrue, that it’s possible to wipe out a Dalish clan in all three of the games in some way.” In Origins, siding with the werewolves in the Brecilian Forest quest leads to the clan being destroyed. In Dragon Age 2, if you defend your companion Merrill’s blood magic usage, her clan attacks you and must be killed. And in Dragon Age: Inquisition, if you’re playing as an elven Inquisitor, you can accidentally kill your clan by picking the wrong options in the War Table mission. It’s not easy being a Dalish elf in Thedas. Still, though, why haven’t any Dalish elves decided to join forces with their gods? As Epler put it, the gods simply don’t care about them. They’re looking for followers in other places. Even though the end of Dragon Age: Inquisition’s Trespasser DLC revealed that Solas had amassed a network of elven agents, they weren’t going to be swayed. “Solas’ agents were never there for power,” Epler said. “They were there for a sense of identity and a purpose. And I would say that it’s fair that Fen’Harel probably bent the truth to them when he was doing his recruiting pitch — the part where he says ‘I’m going to destroy the world’ at the end of Trespasser [was] not what he was telling them.” Solas’ agents are almost jarringly absent from The Veilguard, with barely any mention of how far and wide they spread in the years prior to the game. But they do have very good reason for not being the ones joining up with the gods. “Those blighted, decrepit gods, they’re not bothering with the soft pitch,” Epler explained. “Their pitch is, We’re going to make a horrible world. We’re going to give you a lot of power, and maybe you’ll be OK.” On a more meta note, the Dalish just needed an in-game win. It’s refreshing that Bellara and Davrin get to honor their culture and also not be ostracized from it and possibly forced to kill their clan, as was the case with Merrill in Dragon Age 2. And instead of being accidentally (or purposely!) killed off by the player character, the Dalish elves in The Veilguard get to righteously rally against the mages that they once called gods and reclaim part of their history. “I love that the Dalish in this game, by and large, are saying, No, we were lied to. We were the first victims of these gods. We’re going to fight back,” Epler said. “And they really get a sense to kind of rise up in this game and start establishing themselves in this way that in the future I can’t wait to go back to, but in this game gives them a sense of a win. They get a victory in how they respond to the threat of the gods in this game.”

[source]

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #solas #dragon age 5 #(note: i just want a tag to start filing things under which are about the possible future thats all ^^)

110 notes · View notes

luceafarul-de-dimineata · 7 months ago

Text

"What will you do once I pass away?" The question came out of the blue, but such strange questions were par for the course at this point. Gamigin was nuzzling to your neck when you spoke, but he wasn't phased.

"I'll revive you. Death won't be permenent in Paradise Lost for as long as I'm around to stop it." You were running a hand through his blue hair, playing with a strand of it.

"But what if you don't revive me? If you can't revive me? What will you do then?" The dragon stopped kissing up your neck and shifted so he would be at eye level with you on the bed. He looked confused and hurt which almost made you ashamed that you asked the question.

"My staff can bring anyone back from the dead."

"Ok, but I age and demons don't what about that? What if I get so old I want to die to end my mysery."

Gamigin looked even more confused by your words. He didn't quite understand why humans aged so fast. He pouted in thought and stared at the ceiling. After a while, with a stern voice he asks "How long do humans usually live for?"

You try to remember your anthropology classes and what the avarage age of death was for your country, but you just can't put your finger on it. "I don't know, 70 or something like that." "70! Only 70 years!?!" He pushed you to the bed and pinned you to it with a shocked expression. His mind was working overtime trying to calculate just how long that timespan felt like.

Finally, he turns to you and holds your hands softly kissing them both. He stares determined in your eyes. "You are going to have the most exciting life ever. I promise you. What do you wish to do before you die?"

You've never seen him so stern, but the question was one that you've many times asked yourself yet never seemed to have an answer to. Gamigin's glare was starting to intimidate you so you gently slap his face.

"Don't look at me like that! You're making me nervous! I don't know what I want to do before I die. I just kind of want to see where life takes me."

Gamigin smiles like he usually does and pins you to the bed with a hug. His staff, which he kept in one hand at all times, jiggled lively as you both collapsed on the cottage bed.

"Well then, I want to cuddle with you and rewatch the 'How to Train Your Dragon' trilogy. And then we can play blackjack and whoever wins has to wash the dishes after dinner!" Gamigin proclaimed before kissing your cheek and nuzzling into it.

"Who tought you blackjack?" It was strange hearing your usually innocent boyfriend putting forth the idea of blackjack of all things.

"My brother Buer. He also thought me the dishes strategy as well. Jokes on him, I won." His giggle was contagious and you two ended up just cuddling and watching movies for the better half of the night.

If your relationship with Gamigin thought you anything, it was that you didn't have to live through bombastic experiences to enjoy life. You were having the time of your life just being close to him.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb gamigin #whb fluff #whb x reader #I'm experimenting with writing formats #to see which ones I like the best #for now I can say that I love writing dialog #but I struggle with narrative and especially serious one #let's hope practice will improve on this issue over time #and you'll get to see it!#did you guys know I'm a published author of non fiction #crazy world out there #if you read all of this through #hi #you're really cool #thank you for caring about my stuff

224 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months ago

Note

AITA for threatening to become a girl's step dad to troll her into blocking me and stop dragging me in a group chat ? Jenny (23F) blew up because I (24NB) said she'd be a shitty social worker bc of her specific autism symptoms + class bg. My gf (45F) said it was warranted because of how overwhelmed i got by the wall of text with triggering details of my abuse. I never told my GF that the fight started because Jenny called me a gold digger. I also never mentioned that I ended it an hour later by posting pics of Jenny's mom in the chat, ignoring her ranting and discussing the vacancy left by her dead dad*, and how i could fill said vacancy. 😬😬😬 Might of gone too far with this one.

Backstory: I lived with Jenny when I was houseless indefinitely. She only let me stay for two weeks because it would be too "distracting" to her studies. Jenny was incredibly rich, didn't work, and her parents paid her rent for a 2 bedroom. She admitted she got rejected from every grad school she applied to except for the one her mom was in charge of. Her mom bought her a condo in the city the school was in. She kept asking me how she should decorate it, completely ignorant to how uncomfortable this made me and my other friends. Jenny was oblivious constantly to how she made others feel. She was actually the most incompetent person I've ever met in terms of comforting other, always tone deaf and completely absorbed with her own, single traumatic event. She made constant jokes about the abuser I was fleeing and even compared this stalked to a /serial killer/ documentary she watched, but never EVER showed any signs of internalizing how I almost lost my life to another person, how that might affect me or even just bum me out. Seriously, I've never met someone else who was so incapable of even being sensitive to issues that were /EXTREMELY SERIOUS/. Forget comforting, the stuff she routinely said to me and my other friends to try to cheer us up was beyond degrading. It was wearing on me a lot.

Jenny herself was neurodivergent. She often said her autism prevented her from understanding the feelings others had, reading their expressions, and tolerating crying or loud noise-- she forbid her musician roommate from doing both. None of those mean shes a worthless person, but all of those things would make someone a horrible therapist or social worker. Oh my God, literally every time I talked about my recent trauma, she would talk about herself and then blame her autism when I told her it just wasn't helping.

The final piece of this was I had a nervous breakdown and screamed at her over discord that she was a shit friend and needed to give up on social work, for like an hour. NOT MY PROUDEST, but I ALMOST DIED. I was living with her because SOMEONE WAS STALKING ME. and I would have liked to not have my abuse JOKED about. HOW DID JENNY RESPOND!? She began dragging me, through the mud, in the group chat, for, dating, an, older, woman, who, paid, for, my, air bnb, because, !!!she!!! wouldn't let me live with her for more than a week. I was HOMELESS. It became all about "OP you are such a b*tch, you are with a woman twice your age and she pays for everything now but you are still a miserable and angry person. You are so blah blah blah you are an ableist, you said I can't become a social worker bc of autism blah blah blah you have major major issues, Go back your rich granny and leech off of her you useless, fucked up little gold digger."

U_U Then, she started graphically describing how I deserved my abuse, so I shrimply began to troll. And yes, I pulled out my magnum oppus like fucking playing blue eyes white dragon, oh yeah I slipped her a pristine Jenny's mom facebook photo and said "Hey you never said your mom was so cute. Maybe, I could leech off her next and become your new dad." Yes, her dad died.* She blocked me immediately. Its OK. It was knives out for Jenny as soon as my GF gifted me a pair of $700 Isabel Marant shoes** , the most EXPENSIVE thing ive ever owned in my whole life, and Jenny saw me excited and called her mom to buy her a pair. It's, absolutely OK, if I am the asshole. I wear my crown of thorns, judas that I am, but I really, really think Jenny was being cruel. *he died 18 years ago ** the shoes are no more because i fell into my gf's rich friend's koi pond

#aita #am i the asshole

202 notes · View notes

i-eat-mold · 2 months ago

Note

Opinions on 22 skk ever deciding to date?

ok guys you know i don’t often talk about canon/postcanon timeline skk but honestly its because i know if i begin i will get sucked into an endless rabbit hole. How can i possibly talk about this without foaming at the mouth? imagine how they feel about each other.

chuuya about dazai. dazai was the only “friend” he had in the mafia that had been with him since he joined. dazai helped him avenge all the other friends chuuya had that were murdered, both the flags and in the dragons head conflict, and as much as he might’ve hated the bastard, he made sure the sheep weren’t harmed and he always made battle plans that would give chuuya the choice to use corruption or not. they were together for so long, longer than any other friendship either of them had. Chuuya knew dazai was an extremely strange boy. despite his clown facade he could see glimpses of the sheer sadness and emptyness behind his eyes. Chuuya had gone through plenty of painful things himself, but he fought through it, the pain growing with him into his strength. and he wondered about what happened inside dazais head for him to be so utterly detached, so hollow, so sad. dazai saw chuuya suffer endlessly as a human, yet all it took to abandon him and his life in the mafia was odas death. just as in beast, he leaves with no word, no explanation, no goodbye, a relationship built on trust and unspoken respect. Chuuya, for as long as he could remember, was betrayed and abandoned and betrayed and abandoned and betrayed and abandoned over and over again. he knows damn well you can rely on no one but yourself, everybody leaves, everybody lies, and eventually dazai did too. he shouldn’t have been surprised but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. chuuya was left with a feeling of rage, pain, disappointment and hurt, yet again. yet again, the feeling buried behind his chest through the years, eventually becoming one more bitter experience that came back to the back of his mouth every once in a while when he thought about it.

dazai about chuuya. dazai was a child alienated from every adult in his life, always considered nothing but a monster and someone who you must never come near to. he made a friend, for one. he met a kid his age who he could play video games with and play prank wars against. he could mess with him and although they often found each other annoying, they were kids together. chuuya inspired him to keep living, at least to see what else could be out there, and while obviously oda was the nail in the coffin that made dazai turn sides, chuuya was the one who over the years shaped him into a better person and taught him about ethics (not in the most ethical ways but whatever). still dazai was born alone, he lived alone, and he would always be alone. on his hands there was a black sticky liquid that rotted everything he touched. he figured if he used gloves or was very careful of his every move he could go on about like a normal person but eventually everything and everyone around him stained, and the only way to prevent it was to not touch anything and stay away from everything he could slightly care about. chuuya was the complete opposite of him, his facade was of rage and annoyance but he had a heart so human and so big it couldn’t fit inside his chest, and personally i feel like dazai was deep inside at least a little jealous and grossed out by it. when oda, the only person who didn’t seem to rot away by the black stains died and he left the mafia he obviously couldn’t just delete chuuya from his mind, all those years of mutual respect and shared late childishness. he knew what chuuya had gone through, he knew he was an absolute piece of shit of a person for becoming just one more betrayal in chuuyas book, and he did it anyways. it became something that didn’t sit right with him for years.

years pass and their feelings, complex and painful, settle down in strange ways and aftertastes. you meet someone again, and they are a different person, and you are a different person, but the two children inside you are still best friends, soulmates, and you still know their worst fear and their deepest wishes, but you don’t know who will they hang out with on friday night, or how their job is going. you have to get to know each other again, you already know everything about each other, you know nothing about each other. theres a thousand things you want to explain, to cry on their shoulder about, to yell at them, so many healed scars to show them and so many open wounds to shove in their face, to forgive them, to tell them how much you resent them and forever will, to not say a word at all and yet have them understand all of it.

i personally think their relationship in their adulthood has so much to talk out and come to terms with, but they were partners for so long and so much love doesnt just disappear. if they acknowledged all the things between them that have gone unspoken since they were children they would make a great true couple.

1. because of how deeply they know and understand each other and how they always cared for each other wether theyd admit it or not and

2. because they are so utterly terrible and unbearable that them being together would be a disaster, but having them be with anyone else separately would be even worse bc the only people that can tolerate them are each other

97 notes · View notes

thought--bubble · 9 months ago

Text

In Need of an Heir Pt 8

Aemond X (Baratheon! Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 2,656

In Need of an Heir Masterlist

Canon Aemond Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Dividers and Banners by @arcielee

Warnings:: attempted Non-con Reader discretion advised.

Aemond watches your form retreat down the hallway. His heart tells him to chase after you to fix the situation, but his mind tells him there is no use. You hate him. As you should. As everyone should.

Aemond turns around to head back to his own chambers. He has no desire to walk to gardens without you and chooses to wallow in self-pity. He berates himself the entire walk back. Why would I ask her if she's trying to escape? She was simply telling me what kind of books she likes! I couldn't possibly be this bad at general conversation?

As he arrives at his chambers, his mother and Criston Cole are stationed outside the door. His entire body instantly tenses. He is in no mood for this.

"NO" is the only thing he says as he gets nearer. "Not today, no." He moves to open the door to his chamber when Alicent places her hand on the door solemn expression on her face.

"It's Aegon, the maesters...... they don't think there is much time left...... he wishes to see you." Her voice trembles, wirh the ache of a mother who has watched her children fall one by one. The slow, painful death of her eldest son has aged her beyond repair.

"He's in his rooms?" Aemond asks without turning his head. He can not bear to look into the eyes of his mother as her heart breaks again. The guilt of the role he played in the injuries his brother sustained plague him every time he looks into her eyes.

"Yes, please go see him. Even if just for a moment, " she pleads while tightly gripping his forearm.

Aemond gently removes her hand from his arm and gives it a gentle squeeze as he keeps his sight on her chapped and torn fingers.

"I will see it done"

Aemond takes off towards Aegon's rooms, nausea curling its way up his spine growing to a tightening in his chest. This may be one of the last moments he gets to spend with his brother. With his sister, Heleana, and his brother Daeron long dead, the ache in his chest burns hot.

As he approaches the door to Aegon's chambers, the maester is exiting his face says it all.

"How is he then?" Aemond makes sure that his voice comes out strong and sure, although the little brother inside him is weeping.

"The wounds he suffered in battle. The infections we've fought them as best we can for as long as we could, but I'm afraid..... I'm afraid there isn't much else we can do. I've offered to make him comfortable, but he refuses milk of the poppy"

Aemond nods his head and swallows back the pained expression that is attempting to claw its way onto his face.

He releases a deep sigh as he pushes open the door. It smells like death. The smell was reminiscent of Viserys as he withered away and died. His son was somehow doomed to the same fate.

Yet Aegon was a stronger man. One would never have estimated the man Aegon grew to be. Even as he was slowly engulfed by the stranger, he made plans and put things in place to ensure his family would be ok upon his death. Something his father could never do.

"Aegon?" Aemond walked closer to the bed chamber tentatively. He wanted to see his brother while simultaneously not wanting to see his brother. Not like this.

In a garbled, broken voice, Aegon called out to him. "Aemond? Brother?"

Aemond pushes through the curtains that had been hung before the bedchamber to give Aegon some privacy and the comfort of darkness and sat in the chair by his bedside.

Aemond looked ahead. Looking at Aegon in this state was too much to bare. His screams at rooks rest echo through the recesses of Aemond's mind. The night Aemond had spent running through the dragon battle in his mind, what could he have done differently? To save his brother and keep him whole? Unfortunately, he would never know the answer.

"The stranger will be coming for me soon," Aegon manages to say between labored gasps. "I wanted so badly to make it long enough to see your son. To see our future, but the gods have different plans, it seems." Aemond sits silently unsure of what he should say, his eldest brother, his last sibling is dying before his eyes, and there is not a thing he can do to stop it. The grief and helplessness taking their toll.

"I need you to promise, brother. You will not stop until you have a son, and you will marry that son to Jaheara." Aegon lays with his eyes closed his hand grasping tightly to Aemonds.

"This was already decided, brother." Aemond replies, unsure of why Aegon would ask this.

"By me. The king. As we both very well know the word of a king holds no weight once he is dead." Aegon coughs and gasps for air while Aemond watches his insides twisting and turning. This is his brother. His last sibling slowly slipping through his fingers. He grips Aegons hand tighter, silently begging him not to let go.

"I wish for Jaheara to be queen. She is all that is left of me, all that is left of Heleana, but I will not foolishly send her to the slaughter by naming her heir. I'm a smarter man than my father. I love my daughter enough to know that I do not wish the realm to turn upon her."

Aemond watches as Aegon again struggles for air. Through garbled breath, he is able to get out one final sentence. "Please don't swear to your king, promise your brother, Jaheara will be queen, married to your son and protected for always." Aegon grasps Aemonds hands his fingernails biting at his skin.

"I promise, I will see it done." Aemond then sits by Aegon's side for a few hours, watching him struggle to breathe until he drifts off to sleep. Aemond gets up and walks to the end of the bedchamber before looking back at Aegon, and he feels it.

"Goodbye, brother."

Aemond leaves him in the care of the maesters and stalks of toward his rooms thats where he had planned to go anyway yet his feet pull him in a different direction and by the time he is able to pull himself out of his own thoughts he is standing before the door of your chambers.

He bangs on the door more than knocks. His brother is dying, his sister is dead, and their daughter, the only one he didn't get killed, needs him, and he is failing her spectacularly.

A maid opens the door, looking up at Aemond with trepidation. "My prince".

"Is my wife in?" The disdain behind his tone at the pronunciation of the word "wife" was not lost on the maid who nodded her head quickly while slightly shrinking back.

"Y-yes, my prince, she is in the bath"

Without another word to the maid, Aemond pushes through into the room where you are currently getting your hair washed.

"Leave us." Aemond enunciated the venom laced words quickly, and both maids scatter from the room.

You sit in the tub facing away from him, your heart pounding like a hammer in your chest. This tone of voice you had never heard from him. This isn't his usual cool stoism. No, it is clear what this is. This is anger.

You try to speak, but words escape you as you internally curse the gods for sending him here now while you are naked wet and vulnerable. Your first thought is that you need to make yourself less vulnerable immediately.

You move to get out of the tub but are quickly pulled back down by your hair, causing water to splash up and over the sides. You grip the sides of the tub in panic.

"Sit wife. You must finish your hair. " He again pronounces the word" wife "with vitriol as goosebumps travel up your spine and onto your neck. You are no coward, but you are also not and idiot. This is a dragon. A pissed off dragon, and you are at a grave disadvantage.

"Is there something the matter, Lord husband?" You attempt to keep your voice strong. You can't afford to show him weakness, not in this moment.

"Of course not. Can a husband not assist his wife?" He starts to wash out the soap and oils from your hair, his grip is firm, and he tugs along your hair. There is no gentleness or sensuality to be seen.

"This can not go on," he states plainly. Before you can respond, he continues to speak, "You are my wife. I need you to start acting like it"

He pulls your head back by your hair, your neck cranes over the back of the tub, and he looks down into your eyes. "We will perform our duty tonight. You will come to my chambers after dinner. Do you understand?"

You nod, just wanting to end this moment your vulnerable neck splayed out and naked body just under the surface of the water.

"Good, that's good." He releases your hair and continues to rinse it, massaging at your scalp tenderly. The mixture of violence and gentleness, the telltale sign of a dragon.

You sit in the tub, your shoulders tense, not making a sound.

"Relax, dear wife. I am not going to harm you. I am your protector, after all. " He finishes rinsing your hair and moves to get you a towel.

"After dinner tonight, you will come to my rooms, and we will consummate this marriage"

He holds the towel open for you as you rise out of the tub, not saying a word. You wrap the towel around yourself averting your eyes from him.

You would not show him weakness, yet you would not stand in direct opposition. A true strategy is smart, not brash. It is thought out in the mind not played out through the heart.

Aemond nods towards you one more time before abruptly leaving your chambers. As soon as he is gone, you squeak out a cry. The tension you had been holding comes flooding out. You sit down on your bed, your face in your hands.

Your entire body trembles as you try and piece together exactly what just happened. What happened to make him change his behavior towards you so drastically?

You move quickly to get into your clothes for dinner, your mind racing. Why is he being like this so suddenly?

You knew a time would come when he would demand the marriage be consummated, the fact he hadn't already made that demand had surprised you but the way he addressed it today, the anger he contained yet also expressed towards you was off putting. You wanted more than anything to feign illness and skip dinner so you could hide away in your chambers or somehow escape the castle altogether.

Knowing that was impossible you dredged on, getting ready on your own being in no mood to have your maids around. You choose a basic dress, nothing fancy.

You begrudgingly make your way to the dining area and are shocked to see only Jaheara and her maid there since you had put off going to the last possible moment you should be last not first.

You sit down and the dining staff move about quietly keeping their heads down. The ominous silence in the room setting alarm bells off in your head. They should be here. Aemond not showing up isn't surprising. Aegon as well since he's so sick, but Alicent would not leave Jaheara to have dinner alone without a damn good reason.

After you and Jaheara finish eating, you go to Aemond's chambers as he had ordered but find them empty. Maybe he was just in a foul mood and did not intend to hold you to his earlier demand? One could only hope.

That couldn't be it. There is something much more serious amiss. The hallways are quiet. the rooms are empty, and you haven't seen one member of the royal family, save for the only living child.

You arrive back to your chambers and wait. You know eventually someone will let you know what is happening and with your current relationship with your husband being in the sorry state that it was waiting to be alerted to the comings and goings is really all you could do.

Minutes turned to hours as you sat before the hearth waiting for a knock on the door, screams down the hall. something. Anything would be better than waiting like this.

Yet as the night got later, the answer never came. Until you finally acquiesed to your need for rest. You blow out the last candle by the side of your bed, and that is the last thing you remember until you are awoken into a nightmare.

"Wake up, wife." The raspy words of your husband wake you in a daze as he tears the blankets off of your sleeping form. The sudden chill and the energy radiating off of your husband made it easier to alert to full attention.

"Aemond what has happened?" You attempt to sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes.

"What has happened?" He scoffs. His voice is higher pitched. manic.

"What has happened is tomorrow i will be crowned king of the seven kingdoms and I have no heir. I have not even consummated my marriage" He nearly barks at you.

Your face contorts in confusion. "Tomorrow? What-"

Before you can get the words out Aemond has climbed in your bed and drags you toward him by your thigh.

You immediatly react by kicking your free leg. "Stop it!"

Aemond moves up the length of your body and snatches you by the chin. "Listen here, wife, you will be quiet and do your duty in giving me the heir that the kingdom requires. Are you capable of that? Or must I dispatch of you and get me a wife, that is?"

His pupil is blown and staring back at you wildly, and you know. Fighting him now will only get you hurt or killed.

You lay your head back and turn it to the side. "Do what you must, husband." You say the final word with all the distaste he had been showing you as of late.

You feel him moving your legs and positioning himself above you as you blankly stare at the wall trying to count the cracks between the stones in order to disconnect your mind from your body as you await the intrusion. The intrusion that doesn't come.

Aemond hovers above you for what feels like hours but could realistically only be a few minutes before he brings his forehead down to your chest.

"I can't do it this way. " The words are muffled into your chest hardly audible as you feel tears hit your skin. His tears. Aemond brings his hands down to your waist and holds on tightly. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry".

You don't move or speak, you just listen. The sounds of his quiet sobs and your barely audible breathing the only noise in the room.

"Forgive me" He whispers quietly before placing one delicate kiss on your chest and removing himself from your bed. Quickly collecting the clothing items he had left at your bedside and disappearing back out into the castle leaving you visibly shaken.

"Tomorrow he will be crowned king?" You feel panic rise and bubble in your chest, as it starts to actually settle in what just happened to you. What the pressure almost made him do.

Tomorrow he would be King, which means you would be Queen and both your family and the realm are in need of an heir.

To be added to taglist click here

256 notes · View notes

aclowntiny · 1 year ago

Note

Skz as type of dads? 🥹

CRYING YES QUEEN/KING/MONARCH 👑🥹 kept this open for the kids to be biological or adopted or perhaps some of both for all family types 🥰 plus I’m a huge supporter of adoption personally hehe

Today is US Thanksgiving but fuck that ‘holiday’ here’s a post 🤙🏻

Stray Kids as Dads

Bang Chan

♡ Such a caring and protective dad, like his kids will never get hurt on his watch or his name isn’t Christopher Bang

♡ Being an eldest brother, he’s an absolute champ caring for them, like the moment they’re born he’s rolling up his sleeves and helping out, screw gender norms or the idea of the dad not helping. Being present with his children is a joy and honor.

♡ Would probably like the idea of a mid-sized family, probably a family of three like he had! Still manageable but no one’s lonely or received unfairly high expectations. Especially if they end up being closer in age, that’s ok because they’ll get along better instead of being teens enlisted to care for a baby or something of the like.

♡ Such a multi-talented man is a wonderful mentor to any interests the kids have, easily able to foster and participate in nearly any hobby- sports, singing, dance, acting, playing instruments, you name it!

♡ I can so see him loving to run around with the kids on his shoulders, grinning at the way they laugh and coming up with all sorts of vehicles and steeds to be, whether they want a spaceship ride, a horsie, a plane, or a dragon! Absolutely soft for their pleading to indulge their play.

♡ As a boy dad, Chris views it as super important to model what it truly means to be a man- no toxic masculinity here though! He treats you like royalty so his son(s) know how to treat and provide for their partner someday. He teaches them to fight for what they believe in and be brave. Many of the same things are true for girls, too, but he treats them like absolute princess(ess) too to make sure they don't settle for any less from a man! Indulges dress-up and teaching them martial arts alike because they're his princess(es) but also they must be protected and unafraid to fight back! No one gets the better of his babies!

Lee Know

♡ Acts like he’s got everything under control, but on the inside he’s freaking out a little ��🏻

♡ Proud dad OMG. Every milestone and first that gets experienced, he is sharing it and telling everyone even if it’s completely normal. Like crawling for the first time? Amazing. Absolutely stellar. That’s his kid, you know.

♡ Leans more toward a smaller family like he had, maybe one or two children…and the cats, of course! He adores the idea of being able to pour all the love and care into his little family and give extra attention to you and the kid(s).

♡ Loves kitchen time with your kid(s), doing anything remotely dangerous like cutting or frying on his own but otherwise giving them near free reign! It's messy, sure, but it's also a life skill and a way they can provide for others in the future, too. Minho's kid(s) will appreciate the effort and quality that can go into meals for sure.

♡ Can be firm when he needs to be, but it's mainly in situations where they show any form of disrespect or intolerance. Beyond being happy and loved, he wants his kids to be beacons of love to everyone they meet, and that starts with teaching them that being a bully is never ok, even if it's to an annoying sibling or cousin.

♡ Boy or girl, he’s making a dancing machine out of that kid(s)! I mean, he won’t force them or anything but absolutely indulges it and becomes their biggest coach if they have any interest in dance or choreography. With a girl he’d be so soft when he twirls her and lets her stand on his feet to slow dance, a smile across his face the whole time. His son would be busting idol moves at a very young age 😎

Changbin

♡ His affection toward you increases tenfold if that's even possible once you two are starting a family! And that carries over into the kids for sure.

♡ Honestly the sappiest and goofiest dad, like he won't go a single day without telling his kids he loves them, often in a cutesy voice. Plays with them and gets down to their level so well and gets so invested in any make believe they do.

♡ The idea of having a big family is cute to him, so numbers like four or five don't scare him! But he can be talked down if you like too- Changbin mostly just wants his kid to grow up with at least one sibling like he did.

♡ Playground days are a must for him- heck, he'll be right there going down the slide with little ones in his arms and spinning on the merry-go-round with eager squeals of his own. Becomes their own personal playground, having them hang off of his arms and spin. You have so many silly pictures of them like that.

♡ Plushie theatre! Changbin will act out the most elaborate scenes with teddy bears and stuffed dogs on leashes and anything else provided to him and he will take it as seriously as if he was reciting Shakespeare. May even play music to set the scene. The kiddos laugh so hard and just eat it up every time.

♡ Has the perfect balance to be a boy and girl dad. Lets his daughters put makeup and bows on him with the biggest sappy grin and asks if he looks pretty, then turns around and plays drill sergeant with the boys. Half-jokingly, half-seriously encourages them to mix play with each other and that’s how you find Changbin in camo with blush and the boys smudging lipstick on each other’s faces while the girls try to shoot their action figures away from their dolls.

Hyunjin

♡ Really invested and emotional about the whole process, especially in the beginning. His heart just fills and overflows whenever he looks and sees the life you two are raising.

♡ The dad who’s been practicing diaper changes on dolls or others’ kids if allowed so he knows he can do it right the first time for real 🥹

♡ In his mind, a small family sounds nice, maybe spaced apart so you can spend some time with each. But when he holds his little one for the first time suddenly he looks up like ‘I want ten’. Hyperbole, don’t worry. But suddenly bigger numbers like four or five or six don’t sound so terrible if you’re game 👀

♡ Unafraid to get messy with the fam in the name of art! Hyunjin's at the table when you come home, colors splattered all over his hands and the kids' as they finger paint. Don't worry, he's covered it all up with paper and made sure at least one of the paintings is a portrait of you 😉

♡ Dresses up the kids in the most stylish outfits, like you're about to have little models on your hands! Also has a soft spot for coordinating outfits with them, whether it's family photo day or just an afternoon out with the little ones.

♡ He values all his children so much, especially the awareness that they’ll bring different beauty to the world and be perceived differently. Because of this, he encourages fortitude in all the kids, boy or girl, to be themselves and stand firmly in their interests whatever they are.

Han

♡ This man is the sweetest dad for real! Adores his kids and is always happy to show them affection 🥰

�� Also the type of dad who tries really hard (sometimes a little too hard but that’s why you all love him 🤭) to be hip on the trends and name their generation’s memes.

♡ I can see him once he gets into the swing of things as the type to want a bigger family, maybe even more than he thought! Nothing crazy, but in his head he thought he’d feel complete after one or two, now that he has them though? Three or four doesn’t sound bad, just look at how cute they are with a sibling to play with! Kind of reminds him of the feeling of having so many brothers.

♡ You have to stop him sometimes from buying every cute toy he sees. “Do we need another playset?” “But babe, then he can run his own sushi restaurant 🥺” “Shit, that is cute, ok.”

♡ Cries when his kids cry, laughs whenever they do or at any joke they ever tell him, can hardly bring himself to scold them because he just loves them so much and doesn’t want to break their hearts!

♡ Honestly doesn’t mind if he has boys or girls, like both sound great so you’d never catch this dad sulking at a gender reveal! In the end though I can see him having one of each, and it warms your heart to see how he teaches his son(s) to respect their sister(s), value and cheer them on from a very young age. He is all of their biggest cheerleader, though, handing them mics when he’s recording or playing around in the studio, showing up to every event of theirs he physically can, and just going ‘that’s my son/daughter’ with a huge smile all the time.

Felix

♡ The type of father to describe his kids as the twinkles in his eyes! Just constantly looking at them with adoration- they’ll never wonder if they’re loved 🥹

♡ He's always wanted a family, so having little ones of his own is Felix's dream come true for sure. You'll practically have to pry them from his arms, he loves showering them in affection so much!

♡ For some reason, I see him wanting three kids, the classic 'nuclear family' size or in his words the perfect number to fill up his arms! You guys are ever-so-slightly outnumbered, but your life's also full to the brim of cuteness.

♡ A pro at bath time! Felix is the epitome of 'organized chaos' during this time, managing to get all your little ones to love the water and keep it in the tub. He knows all their favorite toys and has a voice for each one.

♡ One Mother’s/Father’s Day you awake slowly, eyes fluttering at a few clattering sounds and shushes. Your eyebrows furrow in concern, but sleep swims too quickly still beneath your eyes to pull you up. Your internal questions are answered in moments as Felix and the kids burst in with a tray of all your favorites for breakfast, all clearly handmade as the notes and drawings scattering it.

♡ Absolutely no difference in his intent with raising boys or girls… but real talk, the sweetest girl dad on the planet OMG. While he is conscious about modeling caring and providing behavior in both, curiosity and discovery regardless… he has at least one girly girl that just steals his heart and has him wrapped around her finger. Will play as whatever princess needed, incredibly active in every single tea party he can make, you name it, he does it.

Seungmin

♡ The do-it-all dad. He learns sooo much about all of their interests when they're older and reads up on everything baby/toddler before then. An absolute champ at juggling care and keeping the house afloat!

♡ All he wants in life is to do right by his family and be a man you can be proud of. No fear with jumping right in to any aspect of raising your family, even if he does crack the occasional joke.

♡ He's a bit open on number, probably leaning between two or three but more wouldn't hurt if you'd like bigger!

♡ Bedtime is one of his favorite times. Just being able to lay down with the kids and read them stories, doing funny voices and raising and lowering for suspense, fills his heart. He'll sing them lullabies until their eyes stay closed and watch for a few moments wondering how he got so lucky to have this with you of all people.

♡ Invents a whole secret language with the kids one day, so you come home and can't understand any of them. Teases the dickens out of you, grinning and bumping your shoulder and egging the kids on to say more until relenting and letting you in on the secret!

♡ He can’t decide if he’s more excited to have a son or a daughter! Practically weeps imagining playing dress up but has also always wanted a mini me??? (See what I did there?) He takes photos of the kids often, which ends up sparking an interest in photography that he’s happy to foster. Heck, maybe through that his daughter will become his mini me and he gets the best of both worlds!

I.N

♡ Playful dad! It’s not uncommon to come home and find him rolling around with the kids in a big ball of laughter!

♡ He hadn’t always thought about having a family, but when he met you and you guys began your journey, he wondered how he would have ever considered anything else.

♡ Because of this, he never had some dream number in his head and he’s happy to give you the floor on that question whether you’d like one or three or six!

♡ S-Class (see what I did there) nurse. They'll practically demand that he's the one to care for wounds and put the bandages on because he's so good at distracting from the sting of cleaning it and kissing where it hurts.

♡ They love his trot voice. Thus he hams it up plenty, bringing out his most exaggerated moves and probably bringing props too. Would not at all be adverse to them becoming his backup singers or dancers.

♡ Loves the idea of at least one mini you and one mini him- his words! Y’all definitely get a mini him though, OMG: your son wants to be JUST LIKE his dad, practically following him around all the time. He takes after his dad’s goofy smile and performances so soon you really do have two trot performances to watch! Jeongin is so honored and floored by this that he’s always saying he has to be the best man possible for his son as well as for you 🥹 he always encourages his son to say the sweetest words to you too- but don’t say it was from him, shh!!!

346 notes · View notes