#plenty more where that came from also HAHA

[fakeboycorrection]

Fakeboy story time! This one's a long one, so I'm sure some of you dumber, hornier fakeboys will have to read it in multiple sittings.

Kai had always known that they were nonbinary, ever since they were young. People had always tried putting them in dresses, or getting them into makeup, but it had never felt right. Though, to be fair, typical masculine things had never felt right either. They just didn't feel like they were drawn towards either of those. And though they didn't have a word for it for the longest time, when they first heard about enby people, they knew that's where they belonged.

Going off to college was great for them. Kai had become part of a community of plenty of other trans people, learning about the culture and understanding that gender wasn't some binary thing based on genitals, but something on a spectrum that couldn't be encapsulated with just the simple terms that they had learned growing up. As Kai educated themselves, they grew more and more into a leadership role. Eventually, they even became the president of a group on campus dedicated to spreading the trans rights movement, focused on educating people and allowing themselves to liberate themselves from the restrictions of their genders, just like Kai had been, years ago. They spoke at events, handed out pamphlets, and spent long nights staying up with their trans friends, being a shoulder to cry on as they would start their journey into transitioning.

Of course, Kai also got up to some fun activities on their own, outside of these movements. As a young, sexually liberated enby, they were always looking for some ways to have fun with others and in private. Though they considered themselves a lesbian, and had plenty nice encounters with girls on campus, they had a lot more fun spending some late nights in their dorm room, masturbating to porn online. Some of it was more tame, some of it was more kinky, but it was always uplifting to women and enbies, showing the ways that their bodies could be used to empower themselves, sharing pleasure with the world. Kai loved it, getting deeper and deeper down these rabbit holes, until one day discovering a forum of people that used remotely controlled toys to connect with others around the world, allowing them to control vibrators and choose when to give pleasure out. Kai rushed off to the store, getting one, and logging back into the forum for some fun. They had a lot of fun with girls around the world, even some from different countries, until one day having an interesting encounter with an anonymous account from the site.

"Hey, you interested in some fun?" Was the message they'd received. Kai looked at the account it came from, but it was mostly blank, just saying that it was from a man who was about their age.

"Hi, sorry, I'm usually only into girls and enbies. Hope you have fun with someone else!" They replied, trying to let him down easy. They were about to set their phone down when they got another message.

"Haha, really? I mean, it all happens through a vibrator, and my account doesn't even have a face on it. You could pretend I'm anyone." Kai considered it for a moment. They were really horny after all, and they hadn't gotten any other requests. They decided to indulge, sticking their vibrator into their pants until it was positioned snuggly on their clit.

"Fine, let's get this going, oh mystery man." They smirked slightly, knowing that it would be fun regardless.

"See, there's a good toy." He replied. Kai felt the vibrator turn on, feeling like it was at max strength, causing an involuntary gasp to come out of their mouth. After taking a moment to collect themselves, they replied.

"Wow, going full force off the bat? Don't you know how to properly tease an enby?"

"Oh I know how to. Just giving you a taste of it, so you'll know what you're missing when I do this." And suddenly, the vibrations disappeared completely.

"Hey hey hey! I didn't mean take it away completely!" Kai sent quickly, wanting the pleasure back immediately.

"Then I guess you shouldn't have been so bratty. Apologize, and you can have it back." Kai rolled his eyes and sent a message back.

"Ugh, fine. I'm sorry." Kai waited for a second, but nothing happened. They checked their phone.

"Now, is that any way to apologize to the guy controlling your cunt? Have some manners." They read. Kai wanted to roll their eyes again, but actually felt something stirring inside them at reading that. They decided to take it seriously.

"Okay, I'm really sorry sir. It won't happen again." They replied. Immediately, the vibrator flipped back on, but only to about half strength. It wasn't perfect, but Kai wasn't going to risk losing it again by talking back.

"There we go, that's better. You look so cute in your profile pic. You shouldn't put such a bratty scowl on it." Kai shuddered with a bit more pleasure. They'd forgotten they'd posted a pic of themselves on there. Whoever this man was, he could see exactly what the toy he was playing with looked like.

"Oh come on, you get to see me, but I don't get to see you?" Kai responded, relishing the small amount of pleasure in their pussy. After a few moments a new message popped up, not text, but a picture of the mystery man's cock.

"You like what you see? I might not post my face on here, but I'd argue this is better." Kai stared at the pic for a moment in shock. It was a sizable cock, bigger than any of the toys they'd used in the past. Right after he sent the pic, the man turned the vibrator up, sending more pleasure into Kai's hole.

"Hey! That's not fair, asking if I like something, then turning the vibe up. Now I basically have to say yes..." Kai moaned slightly again. Though they'd only ever been fucked with straps before, they had to admit, the cock did look enticing.

"The only part of that message I choose to acknowledge is the "Yes". But I think we both already knew that was the answer, didn't we? :)" Kai chuckled to themselves. This guy was smug, but he wasn't wrong. This was already the most turned on they'd been while using this site, and the night had barely started.

"Yeah, you're right, okay... sir? Please, give me some more pleasure. I'll even say more nice things for you, like "sir". Kai responded, partially doing it to get more pleasure, but partially because it felt so good to be submissive. They hadn't talked to someone with this level of dominance in quite a while.

"Mmm, I do like hearing the title, but I think there's some other things you can say to earn more vibrations. Some more fun things... Some things you might not want to say..." Kai looked at their phone with a hint of apprehension, but upon feeling the vibrations drop once more, they responded.

"Like what, sir?" They replied quickly, hoping to get the vibrator turned back up as soon as possible.

"Admit that I turn you on more than any girl ever has." He replied.

Kai stared at their phone for a moment. This guy wasn't serious, right? They responded.

"Oh come on. That's not even true, I've been with plenty of girls. You're good, but you're not better than literally all of them." After sending this, the vibrations in Kai's hole disappeared completely. They frantically messaged again.

"Wait wait wait, turn it back up!"

"Not until I hear what I want to hear." He responded. Kai looked down at their leaking, needy hole, then looked back at their keyboard before typing out the next message.

"Alright, fine. You're... better than any girl I've been with... I'll say it, even if I don't believe it." Kai immediately felt the vibrator turn back up to full power, sending another involuntary moan out of their mouth.

"There we go, that wasn't so hard, now was it? And don't worry, by the end of this, that statement will be true. Trust me." Kai was starting to get annoyed at this guy's smug attitude, but had to admit. It felt a little good to say such dirty things. They'd always been attracted to people with vaginas, so saying that a man was better than them felt like something of a taboo. A good taboo. After a minute or so of relishing in the pleasure, Kai felt the vibrator slowly starting to decrease in power. They messaged back once more.

"Wait! Why are you turning it down??"

"You earned a minute for saying that. You earn more if you say more. That seems fair, doesn't it." Kai didn't feel like holding back anymore.

"Very fair, yes sir! Just give me more..."

"There we go, much better. I'll tell you what. I'll give you five minutes if you admit that you feel like more of a girl than a man."

Kai looked at this message, confused. They replied quickly, trying to get through this before the vibrator turned off completely.

"What do you mean? I'm an enby. I'm not a man or a girl."

"Yeah, but if you had to pick one, you'd say you're closer to a girl, wouldn't you?" Kai stared at this, thinking about it for a moment. Though they were an enby, they had to admit, they were more feminine than anything. This was just an admittance of that, more than anything.

"Fine, I admit. I'm closer to a girl than a man." Kai responded, feeling another wave of pleasure hit them as the vibrator turned back on. For some reason, this wave felt even more intense than the last.

"See, you're so easy to convince. And you have to say, it feels good to admit that you're a girl, doesn't it?" He replied.

"Hey, I didn't say that. I said I'm closer to a girl than a man. I'm still nonbinary." Kai replied. Though, reading "You're a girl" did send a strange twinge down their body.

"Sure, sure. I'm sure you're not thinking about how you're secretly just a slutty girl. I'm sure it doesn't turn you on to think about admitting that to me, a man, someone you're not even supposed to be turned on by in the first place." Reading that, Kai moaned again. They didn't even fully understand their own feelings at this point, yet it seemed like this man was speaking their thoughts before they could even think them.

"Fuck, how did you know what I was thinking? Also, still not fair! I'm only turned on by that stuff because you're pleasuring my hole when I was thinking about it." Kai responded, denying the allegations as best as possible.

"Maybe, but why were you thinking those things in the first place? Maybe those thoughts are more true than you realize..." Kai read this, getting even more turned on, feeling like they were getting closer and closer to an orgasm. At this point, they didn't care if it was true or not, they just needed to get pushed over that edge.

"Fine, maybe you're right, just please make me cum sir! I'll be a good little enby, or a good girl, just for tonight if you let me!" They responded, knowing that they were closing in on the end of their five minutes.

"Mmm, I don't know about that..." He responded. Kai felt a wave of despair as the pleasure started to fade from their pussy. "But I'll tell you what. If you can think of the most vile, humiliating, pathetic thing that you can admit to me, and promise me that you'll consider actually believing it, I'll let you cum..."

Kai was desperate at this point, so they gave in almost immediately. "I'm a girl. I'm a girl for you and I want to serve your wishes, sir!"

"That's not nearly enough..." He responded. Kai felt the pleasure disappearing even more. They continued, getting more desperate as the orgasm started to seem unreachable.

"Okay, um... I'll never be a man, or an enby! I'll always be a girl! A straight girl a cis girl, who thinks men like you are superior!" Kai held out hope, but the pleasure continued to disappear.

"Not quite enough... I need even more than that, pretty girl..." Kai was on the verge of tears at this point, desperate to cum. So desperate, that she decided to give in, and let out her deepest, darkest, most real thoughts and fears.

"I'll never be an enby because it's all bullshit! None of us are nonbinary, we're all just attention seeking sluts that need men like you to fuck us! Please sir, I'm just a desperate, slutty girl that needs your cock in me to fix me. Please please cum in me so I can cum, knowing that I'm serving my true purpose as girl, please a cis, straight man's cock! That's all that any of us trans whores want!" Right as she sent it, Kai felt a warm wave of pleasure flow into her cunt. Strangely enough, the pleasure hit her before the vibrator even turned on, though it did turn back on in the end, launching her over the edge and giving her the best orgasm of her life. She came, moaning like a girl, barely able to see as the next message came into her phone. She sat there for minutes, trying to get over the massive shocks of pleasure that kept flowing through her body. Eventually, she managed to regain her composure, panting with her tongue out, and picked up her phone. The next message she read made her heart skip a beat, and the needy, aching feeling in her cunt return.

"Good girl, cumming for me. Your moans sounded beautiful, but you're being a bit loud. I'm in the room above you. Come on up and see how a real man treats a girl, little Miss. "Trans Rights Club" President.

She'd never felt fear like she did at that moment. And she had never felt as horny as she did, walking to the stairs, and heading up into his room.

[anghraine]

I've been trying to peer pressure my bff into watching Much Ado About Nothing with me (my fave Shakespeare comedy), and he wanted to have everything in our house set up first etc etc. But he agreed to watch it yesterday and we had a lot of fun absolutely cackling at, well, almost everything.

I do think it's one of the most purely funny Shakespeare plays that are still really good, especially when performed/directed well. We were watching the Joss Whedon version—yes, I know, but I bought it back when it came out and it's still my favorite—and Nathan Fillion's Dogberry is an utter delight, and honestly there are a bunch of script and directorial choices that make it my favorite.

I particularly like Amy Acker's Beatrice: she can be charmingly witty, vulnerable and hurt, sweet and supportive, an adorable dweeb, and ferocious and hard as nails. The way her face changes in the grand romantic scene with Benedick is fantastic—there's this moment where you just see her features harden before she says "Kill Claudio" that I love. I also really loved how often she's visually framed with Hero in the later part of the story: sometimes literally holding her but often visually paired with her in a way that highlights her priorities.

Benedick is pretty good in this version, as well—not as impressive as Acker or Fillion, I'd say, but I like how Benedick initially seems to be a rather callous asshole only for him to be gradually revealed as the most profoundly decent man in the play—not that the competition is steep, but still—especially with regard to women, and how he's, well, also an adorable dweeb until it really matters, at which point he turns deadly serious. And I really like their dynamic once the story gets rolling.

I also love that it doesn't back away from how shitty Claudio is while keeping to the text of the play. He and Don Pedro seem the gentler, sweeter, more romantic characters early on, but the text itself becomes an indictment of them (and Leonato!). My best friend, who hasn't read this/seen another version of it in years, was just like "She's not wrong!" when Beatrice told Benedick to kill Claudio, and shouted "STAB HIM!!!" when Benedick confronts him :D

I really like the performance of Leonato, as well—the way this thus-far affectionate, mild seeming patriarch becomes the most proximate threat to Hero (it really feels like he might snap her neck at any moment) and only seems able to conceive of Hero as a potential victim when told so by other men is terrifying. And Hero herself has a sweetness and dignity but also charm that I enjoy in a character who can be a bit limp in performance.

I do prefer Keanu's Don John though, for peak unpopular opinions.

Of course, I was also reminded of my Pride and Prejudice is to Much Ado as Clueless is to Emma theory, haha. The Much Ado elements are thoroughly overhauled, rearranged, and modernized in plenty of ways, but I think P&P still draws a lot of raw material from it. And I think it's interesting to look at not just Elizabeth and Darcy as Beatrice and Benedick(/Don Pedro, since Darcy combines elements of both), but things like how Austen works to recuperate Claudio in Bingley (not altogether successfully IMO honestly, but a valiant effort that works well enough) and displaces the worst elements of his character onto Wickham. It's not the only influence but it's very striking.

(This is not an original observation, lol; the first time the comparison was made in print afaik was in a March 1813 review of P&P, which had only been published a few weeks earlier at the end of January.)

[justin-chapmanswers]

Was there any cut content from the II3 finale? And was there anything you wish you would have done better after the fact

Hmm. With the finale there's plenty of stuff cut at the outlining stage, but the script didn't have huge notable cuts after the first draft. I guess the section that was most overhauled after that point would be tightening the Unvitationals debate part of the episode. There was a little less jumping around, and some more back-and-forth. It was nice for being able to take more time illustrating Cabby and Balloon presenting their growth to the jury after failing to do-so during the questioning stage earlier-on. But it definitely felt like it was dragging out. At the outline stage Bot and Goo had a lil side-plot with using N-Slash-A's voice-matching-ability to distract Tyler, guarding the jail, for a fun jailbreak side-story, but that was cut to simplify the story since it was clearly already going to be our longest episode (at least when 18 and 19 were still one script). A few gags here and there were cut for time. I'm sure there's other stuff that I'm not remembering off the top of my head, I'll circle back around at a later point.

Ummm. Second part is a tough one to answer this second, for a few elements of the finale. There might be a little more followup on story in Exits, firstly. But sure, a few things. I reevaluate how I did on everything I've written every five minutes, no matter how it came out haha. But I think many interesting conversations about it will come out of stuff yet-to-come. We knew where we'd be going with the season two finale, and we also knew that down the line first-time-viewers may watch in release-order or may watch all of season two (after its completion) then all of season three. I am curious what new viewing perspectives come out of watching in that order. It could be different. And as well, we definitely wanted to strike a very different tone in each. Let's circle-back in the not-too-distant future.

[darkened-writer]

imagine| Sapphire Gaze

summary || “You remind me of sapphires.”

request || Could write a fanfic for Aemond where he and his cousin (Daemons daughter) are in love with each other and at the family dinner everybody can sense that they have a special bond, much to Daemons despise. Just some angst and fluff please🫶🏻Btw. I absolutely love your writings. :))

pairing || Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon! Reader

word count || 9,472

warnings || Minor angst, some fluff, Aemond needs a hug.

notes || This took me SO LONGGG, so I hope it was worth it haha. Enjoy!!!

The first time you met him was at your mother’s funeral.

Everyone was amongst themselves, chatting and dwelling on the memory of Laena Velaryon. Your sisters pouting and wallowing in their sadness while sitting upon a bench. Yourself, however, decided it would be better to stick by your father whom was near Viserys Targaryen; looming like a vulture seeking dinner. 

You were always told, “You’re just like your father.” or “I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” All in regards to your attitude and how well you swing your sword. You mirrored Daemon’s skills as if you were his long lost twin, and that worried plenty of people, especially Alicent Hightower.

“I’m old enough to notice your gazes towards Rhaenyra, Father.”

The man let his eyes leave Rhaenyra’s figure and settle on yours, your arms folded under your cloak. It was disappointing body language yet your face was upturned with amusement.

“Old enough? You’re just two years older than your sisters, my oldest.”

“I may be good at fighting, Father. But, I also have brains.”

He chuckles and turns to look at Viserys who was also looking at him.

The winds, however, pulled your gaze to a silver-haired boy looking at you from across the way, in a similar way that Rhaenyra was looking at your father. With admiration, a sense of longing, and yet you only knew the boy's name and nothing more.

Aemond Targaryen.

His eyes were scanning your figure, almost curious of who you are. What your origins were, but your train of thought was immediately interrupted. 

“Your girls are the very image of their mother.” You turn to look at your uncle, the King, “A comfort and an anguish, as I well remember. The gods can be cruel.”

A firm pause, before your father answered, “It seems they’ve been especially cruel to you.”

The King finds the comment humorous, when normally it would be taken as an insult.

“Yes…” The tension was palpable between the two, so you speak.

“It’s wonderful to see you, Uncle.” You bow your head a bit and the man cracks a sincere smile.

“Y/N! My fierce little Niece, It’s great to see you also, even if under such dire circumstances.”

“Agreed, Uncle.” His eyes find Daemon’s again, “You should return with us to King’s Landing. It’s time that you came home.”

“Pentos is my home…and that of my children.”

“Daemon… I know we’ve had our differences, but let them pass with the years. There’s a place for you in my court if that’s something you should need.”

“I need…” His mouth moves to say ‘Rhaenyra’, but he stops himself, “nothing.” The silence hits once again but before Viserys could say anything else, your father walks away quickly.

“Brother…”

You place a comforting hand on your Uncle’s shoulder before walking away also towards the stairs to head toward the beach. The sky was a pleasant shade of gray, mirroring upon the shiny sea water that called to your very soul. The Velaryon blood coursed through your veins, drawing you towards the sea but the fire was just as mesmerizing. 

The sand finally touched your boots, sounding a gentle crushing noise. The waves waning against the rocks, sea foam catching on the grains of sand. It was all too peaceful for such a saddening day, but somehow you knew that the sea took your mother with open arms to become a part of it once again.

“You remind me of sapphires.”

The voice pulled you from your concentration, eventually connecting a face to the voice. Aemond Targaryen stood with his cloak flowing in the high winds, hair also meticulously moving in tandem. 

“Sapphires? Such flattery should only come between those who know each other deeply.”

“Well, I’d like to get to know you better, cousin.”

You tilt your head, “Ah cousin, should’ve known we were related based on the hair color.” Your hand finds the pin holding your locks upward and slide it out, letting the silver cascade down your shoulders and flow to the side. Aemond’s eyes watched your hair with great interest, rousing a laugh from the bottom of your stomach.

“Are you always this curious and interested in hair?”

He stifles a cough, “Erm– yes?”

“You liar–”

You quickly move past him, gently shoving him with a laugh that sounded like pure heaven to the boy's ears. You seemed to be in a playful mood, so the boy chased after you, laugh intertwining with yours. And what a true joy it was to meet someone in the family that didn’t completely anger you.

-

Hours later, after departing from Aemond, you were safe and warm within the covers of the bed you truly loved. Your sisters were asleep, subtly snoring until they were awoken by a familiar roar. Vhagar, Mother’s dragon who wasn’t supposed to even be flying or out this late at night. It worried the two twins, so they did only what they were taught in an odd situation, they woke their older sister. 

“Y/N…Y/N… Y/N– wake up…!”

Your shoulders were being shook until numbness, but you eventually let your eyes fall open and settled on Baela.

“Mm…? What is it, sister?”

“Someone stole Vhagar.”

That sets the alarm bells in your mind off, “What?!”

Quickly, you put your dress and boots on and settled the dagger your father had made for you under your gown. Telling Baela and Rhaena to wake Jacaerys and Lucerys and meet you where Vhagar was going to land. And eventually, you all met up to investigate what was going on. Though, you held your sisters back behind you so you could go first in case of an attack. The distant crash of Vhagar landing made you jump, but alas you waited to see who was riding the Dragon that was to remain unclaimed.

“Jace, what are we doing?”

Yourself and the group of children all quieted down at the sight of Aemond.

“It’s him.”

“It’s me.”

“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon.”

“Your mother’s dead. And Vhagar has a new rider now.” Venom was seething through his mouth, and you winced at his way with words, harsh and unruly.

“She was mine to claim.”

“Then you should’ve claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you.”

Rhaena slipped from behind you in rage, going to grapple and fight Aemond but was quickly thrown to the side and to the ground. Baela couldn’t stand to see her sister hurt, so the girl took her turn, throwing a punch and landing it, but ultimately getting the same force of a punch back, knocking her down. 

“Come at me again and I’ll feed you to my dragon!”

You leapt to check on Rhaena to see if the boy had hurt her, while Jacaerys began to throw punches himself. With a gentle caress, you wiped the blood from your sister’s nose, feeling Jacaerys fall to the ground and the shrill shriek of Lucerys. It was chaos, but in spite of Aemond’s meticulous strength, you helped Rhaena up and she went immediately to beating Aemond up with Baela and Jacaerys. 

Blood was all over the boy’s face, while you took the liberty of staying out of the conflict and helping Lucerys up from the dirty ground. 

It didn’t last though, Jacaerys was kicked aside, the girls thrown, but Lucerys lunged anyways; getting put into a chokehold. Everyone tensed up as Aemond grabbed a stone from the ground and held it up, your heart dropping to your stomach. Was he going to kill your cousin in cold blood?

“You will die screaming in flames just as your father did! Bastards.”

“My father’s still alive.” Lucerys wailed out with a bloodied face and salty tears, “He doesn’t know, does he, Lord Strong?”

Aemond’s tone became condescending, and within that rage, Jacaerys grabbed the dagger that laid upon your thigh while you were ultimately distracted.

“Jace!”

You grabbed your sisters and held them back with eyes of fear, watching as Aemond threw Lucerys to fall to the ground, but Jacaerys caught him and threw him softer to land. The boy swung the dagger you once had, missing and getting struck by the stone Aemond wielded. The dagger landed near Lucerys, who grew strength in the moment he had of being defeated. And as Aemond had his arm held up with the stone, ready to strike Jacaerys down, he looked to you and your sisters; and you shook your head in disbelief. 

What happened to the kind boy you had met on the beach?

Sand and then the slash and scream that accompanied it.

Aemond cried into the sandy, night air, clutching his face in great pain. Blood pooled and spilled from his left eye, slipping through his fingers like wine being poured from a bottle. You felt a twinge of guilt for not breaking up the fight, but you knew you’d done right by keeping close to your sisters. Because they were most important to you, even if the boy who was now seething in pain was kind to you once.

-

“How could you allow such a thing to happen?”

The king was chastising the knight in front of him, and you let your eyes come to Aemond sat upon a chair, having his eye cleaned by a Maester. Alicent Hightower, the queen, sat next to the boy with a vastly worried expression. A mother’s worry for her son, her boy.

“Who had the watch?”

“Young prince was attacked by his own cousins, Your Grace.”

You held your sisters in a huddled hug, their blood coated on your fingers as you had tried to wipe their faces clean. Though, it had just ended with red smudges on their skin and crimson tips for your fingers. 

“You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!”

“I’m very sorry, Your Grace. The Kingsguard has never had to defend princes from princes, Your Grace–”

“That is no answer!”

Alicent’s voice chimed in, “It will heal, will it not, maester?” She sounded desperate.

“The flesh will heal. But the eye is lost, Your Grace.”

Alicent and Viserys seemingly reeled at the news of their son’s eye now being lost, and you felt bile rising in your throat. 

“Where were you?” Alicent began to antagonize her son, “Me?”

The answer wasn’t satisfactory, so the woman slapped him and he quivered in fear at the anger on her face. 

“Ow! What was that for?”

“That was nothing compared to the abuse your brother suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool.” The Hightower woman was seething in anger, a sight that was rare and never welcomed. But before anyone else could possibly speak or do anything, doors opened and Corlys and Rhaenys rushed down the stairs.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Y/N, Baela, Rhaena! What happened? What happened?” The older woman immediately embraced your sisters, pulling you into the hug roughly but with care. Corlys went front and center while Rhaenys was comforting your sisters and rubbing your shoulder in hopes of easing you. The grand doors opened with a creak and Rhaenyra Targaryen came waltzing in with a face stricken with intense, motherly worry, but what was odd was your father was trailing behind her; making eye contact with you before leaning against the doorway to watch the commotion. 

“Jace? Luke!” She rushed to kneel in front of them, trying to assess the damage of Lucerys’s nose. 

“Show me. Show me.” 

His small hand moved from his nose, and a fresh gush of blood fell.

“Who did this?”

“They attacked me!”

“He attacked Baela!”

“He broke Luke’s nose!”

The children continued to shout and make their own arguments and claims of what had happened, “He stole my mother’s dragon!”

“Enough.”

“He was gonna kill Jace! I didn’t do anything!”

“Enough–”

“It should be my son telling the tale!” Alicent now joined the children in their chorus of cries and shouts, until–

“Silence!”

Instantaneous silence at the King’s yell, Jace leaned down to his mother’s ear to whisper something that made her face go pale as she rose. Must’ve been the phrase that started the physical altercation, ‘Bastard’.

“Aemond…” The King made his way down the small bit of stairs ever so slowly, “I will have the truth of what happened. Now.”

“What else is there to hear? Your son has been maimed. Her son is responsible.” Alicent chimed in, “It was a regrettable accident.” Rhaenyra argued.

“Accident? The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush. He meant to kill my son.”

“We had no idea it was your son whom was riding, Vhagar!”

Alicent’s gaze turned to you now, “Past conflicts have arisen between them and yet you had no idea it was Aemond?”

“No– and it was I who brought the blade, for protecting my sisters and cousins in case of danger.”

Alicent’s eyes rolled, “And you claim to be oh so high and mighty now, protecting family–”

“It was my sons who were attacked and forced to defend themselves. Vile insults were levied against them.” Rhaenyra interrupted the Queen from continuing.

Viserys’ perked up, “What insults?”

“The legitimacy of my sons’ birth was put loudly to question.”

“What?”

“He called us bastards.”

The room went silent, even a drop of wine could sound across the room.

“My sons are in line to inherit the Iron Throne, Your Grace. This is the highest of treasons. Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such slanders.”

The boy peeked from the rather large chair he was sat upon, looking you directly in the eye as Rhaenyra spoke, sending a chill up your spine at the view of his now lost eye, bloody and bruised.

“Over an insult? My son has lost an eye.” Alicent’s hand roughly gestured to Aemond.

“You tell me, boy. Where did you hear this lie?”

“The insult was training yard bluster.” Alicent interrupted, “The lot of boys. It was nothing.”

“Aemond… I asked you a question.” A pause, before Alicent spoke once again, “Where is Ser Laenor, I wonder? The boys’ father? Perhaps he might have some say in the matter?”

“Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?”

“I do not know, Your Grace. I… could not find sleep. I had gone out to walk.” Your father was glancing at Rhaenyra with eyes you knew well, and your stomach felt like it was weighed down by stones. He was getting involved with his niece, on the day of your mother’s funeral.

“Entertaining his young squires, I would venture.”

No one laughed, not a single breath except for the hateful looks both Rhaenys and Corlys sent Alicent. Viserys was neglectful of the looks and continued his earlier conversation with his injured son.

“Aemond… look at me. Your king demands an answer. Who spoke these lies to you?”

Pregnant silence, before he spoke, “It was Aegon.”

“Me?” The other boy looked terrified, “And you, boy? Where did you hear such calumnies? Aegon! Tell me the truth of it!”

“We know, Father…” The room suddenly feels hotter, “Everyone knows. Just look at them.”

Most of everyone in the room peers at Rhaenyra and her sons, her hand laid on her youngest head, tears welling up in her beautiful eyes. Alicent visibly looked saddened, but you knew deep down she most likely felt satisfied about his answer, but the complete opposite could be said for Viserys.

“This interminable infighting must cease! All of you! We are family! Now, make your apologises and show good will to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demands it!”

The obviously sick and decrepit man, our king, began to walk away, his cane clicking against the ground abrupt against the awkward silence. Alicent looked appalled at her husband's words, tears in her eyes mirroring Rhaenyra.

“That is insufficient.” He turns around, “Aemond has been damaged permanently, My King. “Good will” cannot make him whole.”

“I know, Alicent, but I cannot restore his eye.”

“No, because it’s been taken.”

“What would you have me do?”

“There is a debt to be paid. I shall have one of her son’s eyes in return. And if not her son’s, then the one who brought the blade in the first place.”

The room began to murmur, your eyes widening at her proposition. Rhaenys’s grip around you became tighter in her own worry.

“My dear wife…–”

“He is your son, Viserys. Your blood.”

“Do not… allow your temper to guide your judgment.” He shares brief eye contact with your father.

“If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston… bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon or Y/N Velaryon.”

“Mother!” The small boy shouts, and you turn to look at your father who looks more antsy than before, worried.

“Alicent…”

“The one you choose can choose which eye to keep, a privilege neither of them granted my son.”

“You will do no such thing.” Rhaenyra defended, beginning to look just as worried as your father; if not worse. 

“Stay your hand.”

“No, you are sworn to me!” She yells to Ser Criston, “As your protector, My Queen.”

A sense of relief washed over you, Alicent looking more and more disappointed by the second. 

“Alicent, this matter… is finished. Do you understand?” The king and queen share eye contact for a moment, before the king turns to leave the whole situation all together, but he must leave a brief message.

“And let it be known: anyone whose tongue dares to question the birth of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons should have it removed.”

“Thank you, Father.”

Rhaenyra leans down to console her sons once again, yourself choosing to kiss the tops of your sisters’ heads, until chaos strikes. Alicent moved steady towards Rhaenyra with the blade Viserys usually carried at his side, looking like a woman on a mission, and various people began to shout which alerted her to the oncoming attack; catching Alicent’s arms in a grapple. Luke screamed in fear and you instantly huddled towards Baela and Rhaena to protect them, not noticing your father trying to get to you but being interrupted by Ser Criston.

“You’ve gone too far.”

“I? What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom , the family, the law. While you flout all to do as you please. Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again.”

“Release the blade, Alicent.” Her father spoke, but she did not listen.

“And now you take my son’s eye, and to even that, you feel entitled.”

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you really are.” And with a push away, the blade penetrates Rhaenyra’s skin, conjuring up blood at her wrist that slips down, down, until the crimson liquid hits the marbled floor. Her face was open in shock at what had just happened, even Alicent looking shell-shocked at what she did. The blade in her hand tumbling down and hitting the floor to mirror the bloodshed. 

But, now Aemond was up from his seat, eyes turning to him instead of the commotion.

“Do not mourn me, Mother.” She looks at him, “It was a fair exchange. I may have lost an eye… but I gained a dragon. And Y/N was not at fault at all–”

You both look to each other, “She didn’t even try and hurt me, she stayed out of it, so bid her mercy…”

You let the corners of your mouth slide up in a thankful smile, and he only replies with a nod.

“This proceeding is at an end.”

Ser Criston releases your father, and he makes haste in reuniting with you and your siblings and Rhaenyra, looking at Alicent with the same gaze as the rest of your family, stern, dark, and direct.

-

Ten years have passed since that fateful night.

Baela had traveled to Driftmark to be a Ward for Rhaenys and Corlys, Rhaena deciding to stay with you to keep you company against the hoard of boys. Lucerys and Jacerys were handfuls in of themselves, despite their older age. But now you had little Joffrey and his two brothers to mess about and yell into the halls of Dragonstone. 

Your father and Rhaenyra had wed the morning after the night of bloodshed, happy and content within joining their two families, and Rhaenyra was now pregnant with yet another child after two younger boys with Daemon. You’d hope that they would be a girl.

Though, the peacefulness that was your home was breached by a letter sent by Baela, giving information about Corly’s brother challenging Lucerys’s legitimacy to the Driftmark throne. He was going to present it to the king in hopes of staking claim over Luke, which made Rhaenyra instantly angered by the audacity. And, that is when your parents decided that it would be best to travel back to the kingdom to make their own claim against Vaemond.

A ship ride and a carriage ride, and you were now arriving at the castle that held the man that weighed on your thoughts for a decade.

Aemond.

The boy saved you from losing an eye by claiming your innocence.

How would he look after ten years? Handsome? Stubborn like his mother? The question hung in your head until the carriage stopped and Rhaenyra sent you a small smile to tell you it was time to exit.

“All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne and her royal consort, Prince Daemon Targaryen.”

The bells tolled, and the cold air drifted into the now open carriage as Rhaenyra exited promptly and with a regalness that only royalty could muster. Your father exited just after her without a care of how he looked, but you waited and helped Rhaena out of the carriage before letting Jacerys and Lucerys go and then yourself.

Your whole family was adorned in black and red colors, contrasting the green banners that were in the yard you stood in. Rhaena’s rather cold hand grasped yours, and you let your thumb absentmindedly rub against the frozen skin. She felt anxiety, it was only normal considering where you all stood.

Lord Caswell suddenly came from the entry doors with careful consideration, before coming to stand in front of Rhaenyra and bowing his head. His wrinkled hands found her soft ones, eyes speaking with care.

“Welcome back, Princess.”

“Lord Caswell.”

The man kindly escorted you all into the castle, and the decor change seemed to alarm both of your parents. The green, the religious symbols, it was all so daunting for two people who were raised here. Alas, you had to separate from them as they had duties to attend to, so you followed your brothers to the training yard, their black cloaks dragging behind them like crows feathers. 

Two knights were sparring, catching the eyes of the boys, however you were focused on the blades sat against wood planks to be picked up.

They were awfully shiny and caught your eye, the indistinct chatter all around you becoming void.

“See? I told you this would still be here. And you thought you could swing Criston’s morningstar. And you almost took your own head off.”

Lucerys grumbled beside you, looking at the weapons also as Jacerys rustled the boys’ hair, yet he was focused on the various people staring at you three with curious eyes. Jacerys noticed immediately, “What’s your problem?”

You picked up a shiny blade, twirling it in your grasp, “Everyone’s staring at us–”

“Hyah!” Jacerys tried to play, even smiling a bit but it was shut down by Lucerys’s sour attitude. 

“No one would question me being heir to Driftmark… if… if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong–”

You quickly dropped the sword and placed a hand on your brother’s shoulder, gathering his attention, “It doesn’t matter what they think.”

It seemed to ease him, before a crowd had gathered and cheering began, grunts from the middle of the crowd. Jacerys dragged you two immediately to whatever was going on, and the view shocked you.

A white-haired man brandished a shield and sword, moving swiftly towards the Dornish looking knight, taking a hit to his shield and causing the crowd to react with “ooo”’s and “ahh”’s. But the white-haired mystery was smart, he threw the shield to the side and began relentless swipes towards the knight, but he dodged anyways, now revealing the face of the man.

Aemond–

This alarmed Lucerys, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. He moved meticulously, like a spider on a wall, fast and deadly. His moves were awe-inspiring, and every jab of his sword made your heartbeat faster and faster; until the pointy end was at the knight’s neck and the crowd applauded.

“Well done, my Prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time.”

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys. Nephews, Niece… have you come to train?”

His one eye was wide and awake, an unnerving chill being sent up your spine just by his glance. But before any of you three could reply, a guard shouted.

“Open the gate!”

There was a large creak before your relative, Vaemond, waltzed through with his battalion, making a huge deal out of his arrival. Until you feel a hand grasp yours and pull you back and away from the crowd. The hand was warm and inviting, callouses from sword handling prominent but the veins in the arms were so very noticeable. 

He was pulling you fast towards the library, not even giving you a second to rest before the library doors shut and his gaze was on you once again. His singular eye wandered your entire figure, starting from your face, down to your neck, your chest, your waist, legs, and then back up. He hummed a content, “hmmm”, before speaking.

“My– how you’ve grown, Niece…”

“Could say the same to you, Aemond.”

He circled you now, like a shark circling blood in the ocean, but your desire was probably ten times that. You missed him even after only knowing each other for a day, and it scared you; how much you wanted to kiss him, bite his neck, or nibble on his ear. The possibility of hearing the low, guttural noises of pleasure from him was surfacing in your mind.

You hoped whatever god or gods there were that he couldn’t read your mind right now.

The eyepatch slung on his head looked to be made of fine leather, of course made by someone of exceptional skill and yet, the man most likely saw himself as a cripple due to the loss of his eye. His hair was long and flowed down his back almost like a ravenous river, uncontrollable and wild. What brought out a slice of curiosity from you though was the blue glimmer from under the eyepatch he adorned, did he really stick a gem into his eye socket?

“You still remind me of sapphires.”

“Such flattery should only come between those who know each other deeply, Aemond–”

He smirks, lips upturning, as if remembering the very same day you both had met and spoke. Of course, it was hard to forget you, and the way you didn’t join your siblings in crippling him. You were merciful to him, yet, you were known to have the same anger and rage boiling in you as your father, Daemon. And after these ten years that had passed, there was never a quiet moment where he wasn’t pondering about you, your whereabouts, or how you might have aged and come into your own body.

And you sure had matured in all the right places.

“What did you hope to achieve by pulling me into the library?”

Were you hoping to get a rise out of him? Because the palpable tension of ten years was straining like a rope at its breaking point. About to snap.

“Privacy, mostly, Niece.”

He stood firmly in front of you, now closer than he previously was but just far enough to where you could feel the lingering touch of his hand. His fingers were long, slender, and strong; built for sword fighting and taking down armies of men. He was stronger than he looked. His hand trailed up your arm, settling just under your ear within the crease, cradling your cheek longingly. His gaze mirrored that of when he first saw you, adoring and curious. How is it that such a violent man could stoop into a passive state around a woman he cares for, admires and cherishes.

“You’ve gone soft, Aemond. Where is that daring sword fighter I just saw outside?”

“Even a man as violent as direwolves would falter under the eyes of the woman he loves.”

“And you love me?”

“Of course, I do… ever since we were kids. Ever since the day I lost my eye. I gained a dragon and a person worth fighting for.”

His thumb stroked the skin of your cheek, “Do you feel the same, Sapphire…?”

Before he could even utter another word, your lips were on his.

-

You didn’t see Aemond the rest of the day after the shared kiss.

He had duties to attend to and Daemon had called upon you for your sword training, which he always let you handle Dark Sister since you would be the one to inherit the blade. A powerful symbol and an even swifter blade then the dagger you’d been carrying since you were a kid.

The same dagger that took out Aemond’s eye.

The guilt of even taking the blade in the first place to the cavern was still apparent in your older age, but even your sisters liked to assure you that it was the right call.

You were their protector. Their older sister and through marital laws, could be the heir to the Iron throne if Rhaenyra deemed it so.

The oldest of all your siblings, you were also the fiercest, yet the most gentle.

‘The Realms Essence’, you’d heard in villages.

‘She embodies love and hate, the wind and the flame.’

Yet, you were always drawn to the sea and the color of sapphire blue.

-

The next day was the day of defending Lucerys’s claim to the throne of Driftmark, his birthright and exactly what Corlys’ would have wanted.

Rhaenyra awoke you in the morning, carrying a red and black dress with a blue dragon sutured up the back. It was the color of your dragon, Bessoarth, The Nocturnal. The glimmering yellow of the eyes of the dragon drew you in as your mother helped you put on the dress, smoothing out any creases and beginning to braid your hair in a Dragon riders’ style.

She had said she used to wear her hair the exact same way when she was younger, and a swell of pride bundled up in your heart.

You missed your true mother, Laena, but the attention and love from Rhaenyra brought new light to your inner child.

Eventually, you and your whole family were gathered in the sacred room that held the Iron Throne. The crowds chattering about whatever came to mind but all was put silent as Otto Hightower began to speak and start the meeting.

“Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters.” He takes a seat on the throne.

“The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.”

Your relative walks up to speak his truth, while you immediately tried to find Aemond’s gaze, once locking, a smile arose on his lips that didn’t go unnoticed by a certain someone. 

“My Queen.  My Lord Hand.”

Alicent looks at Vaemond, “The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name. I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother’s seat. I am Lord Corlys’s closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins.”

“As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon–. If you cared so much about your house’s blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition.”

Rhaenyra was right in her correct interruption of Vaemond, yet Alicent Hightower interrupted her immediately.

“You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.”

The tensions between the two formal friends was sharp and unyielding, but to make matters worse, Ser Vaemond came with a rebuttal to Rhaenyra.

“What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess? I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn’t recognize it.” Rhaenyra nods to herself, “This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours.” The man lets his eyes land on Lucerys, which you firmly reply with shoving the boy slightly behind you, looking Vaemond in the eyes with haste. How dare he look at him with such satisfied eyes, who did he think he was? 

“My Queen, My Lord Hand.” He was an ass kisser, that much was obvious. “This is a matter of blood, not ambition. I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother’s successor… the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.”

“Thank you, Ser Vaemond.”

He sent one last glance at your family before taking his place once again. 

“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon.”

She took firm steps to the front, holding her wrist with a certain amount of anxiety that was only a bit noticeable. But even in her worries, she gave off a sense of knowing it would all be okay somehow. 

“If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly twenty years ago, in this very–”

A noticeable creak sounded throughout the hall, taking everyone's gaze to the grand doors behind. The almost toppled over body of your Uncle came firmly to enter the meeting, a golden mask clad on the right side of his face. His white hair was sparse and thin, just about all of it gone and yet his head still held the crown with delight. His cane clicked on the cobblestone ground, and you couldn’t help but notice the small smile on Rhaenyra’s face.

Her father was here to save the day.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”

The room bowed their heads to the King who would die being known for the kindness of his heart, and the love he held for his family. A truly noble man.

He moved slowly and with a limp, but kept his gaze on his only child, knowing what he had to do, and he would not fail. 

“I will sit the throne today.”

“Your Grace…”

The determination your Uncle exhibited was noteworthy and brought a great comfort to you, knowing the bloodline you stem from ties into a man so oddly heroic, even in his last days.

Through his difficulty to climb up to his lofty seat, the crown on his head fell with a thud which prompted yourself and your father to try and aid him.

Daemon held Viserys and helped him to the throne and you had the honor of placing the crown back onto his head. Even after bickering and arguments, the brothers knew they would always have each other, even if one were to pass. And you gave your Uncle an adoring gaze and a loving smile, before joining your family once again.

“I must… admit… my confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present… who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys’s wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”

“Indeed, Your Grace.”

The whole room peered keenly at the older woman, herself stepping forward with her black grown dragging against the ground behind her.

“It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son… Lucerys Velaryon.” Rhaenyra perked up, “His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys’s granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.”

Baela looked to be smiling a bit, Alicent shaking her head to herself as if in disapproval. 

“Well…” Viserys began, “The matter is settled. Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucery Vvelaryon of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.”

He wheezed after his proclamation, Rhaenys rejoining Baela and Vaemond, staring daggers into Rhaenyra, making a ‘tch’ sound.

“You break law… and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir.” He steps up to speak once again, “Yet you dare tell me… who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it.”

“”Allow it”? Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

The man turns and points at Lucerys, face drawn up in a flame like anger, “That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine.”

You draw Lucerys back behind you, Rhaenyra turning and looking him in the eyes. 

“Go to your chambers. You have said enough.” She looks to Vaemond with pleading eyes, not wanting to argue over something so realistically small. However, Viserys decides to chime in again. 

“Lucerys is my true-born grandson. And you… are no more than the second son of Driftmark.”

“You… may run your house as you see fit… but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides.” His venom laced eyes turned to our family once again, “And gods be damned… I will not see it ended on the account of this–” He pauses.

Daemon seeks the words Vaemond wishes to utter and says, “Say it.”

The whole room seemingly freezes, the air thin, but Vaemond couldn’t restrict his tongue.

“Her children… ARE BASTARDS. And she… is… a whore.”

The crowd stirs with gasps and while Viserys tries to rise, you put a comforting hand on Rhaenyra's shoulder.

“I…” The king pulls his dagger from under his cloak, “will have your tongue for that.”

But before anything could even happen, the sound of a sword being swung erupted and Vaemond Velaryon’s top half of his head fell to the ground, soon following his body. Everyone gasped and Alicent pulled Haelena into a hug, knowing the view troubled her. Rhaenyra was shocked but even you knew your father would not let those words go without punishment. 

“He can keep his tongue.”

“DISARM HIM!”

“No need.” Daemon quickly cleaned his blade with his cloak and sheathed it, Aemond now meeting your wandering eyes with one thing on his mind. 

You certainly inherited your father’s flare.

The King fell back into the throne, Alicent calling for the maesters and Rhaenyra rushing to his side to check on him. The dagger sheathed at your side seemed to burn and itch every second, yet that didn’t even disturb you. Aemond’s almost excited gaze towards Daemon is what truly did you in.

-

With the day just about gone, it was time for dinner.

The whole family, including Alicent’s children, were all to attend. You dreaded the ordeal simply by the fact that you knew trouble would most definitely stir up. It was bound to happen with the tensions rising between Rhaenyra and Alicent, not to mention Aemond’s anger towards Jace and Luke. The only person who seemed to not even care about what was going on was Haelena, as she was sipping her wine and smiling to herself, muttering phrases that made anyone shiver. You felt bad for her.

The doors opened to the dining room and Viserys was carried in, everyone standing in greeting to his royal majesty. He had looked tired, exhausted even, and that saddened your heart. 

The sadness could never really last with Aemond staring into your very soul any chance he could, wearing a lustful smile, mind wandering to where the kiss prior could have led. The feelings stirring in your heart were that of love, the very thing that slays duty. A dangerous thing.

Once Viserys was finally seated, everyone else followed suit. His lowly eye looking around the whole table, taking in the sight of his family together, even if torn all the same.

“How good it is… to see you all tonight… together.”

His adoring gaze landed on Rhaenyra, before Alicent spoke.

“Prayer before we begin?”

“Yes.”

An odd thing that your mother had pointed out to you, was that Alicent was never religious during the time they spent together in their youth. The randomness of the religion she was now devout to had caused her great confusion, though she was not one to deny someone the freedom of worship.

“May the mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest.”

Your father sent a playful gaze at you, which you dismissed with an eye roll towards his attitude. 

“This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young princes… and their betrothed.”

Aemond’s eye was on you once again at the mention of betrothal, and your heart skipped a beat.

“Hear, hear!”

Everyone raised their glasses, the bitter wine wrapping around your tongue and slid down your throat with an aftertaste that was oddly sweet. The aroma had accents of earthy tones that reminded you of the sea, your home. Aegon’s whispers to Jace were heard but not acknowledged by you as you enjoyed your wine.

“Let us toast as well Prince Lucerys… the future Lord of the Tides.”

“Hear, hear.”

“You’ll be great.”

Aemond’s lingering stare towards Lucerys was dark, one of extreme distaste, which reflected directly how he felt towards Jacerys also. But not you, never you, you were a person with an attitude that mirrored the harsh waves. Yet, you were delicate and sweet like his favorite fruit, the blueberry. 

“You look beautiful, my daughter.”

Daemon laid a hand upon yours that sat on the table, smiling at you proudly.

“Thank you, Father. Rhaenyra has helped me pick the most beautiful of dresses. I owe it to her.”

The lovely couple now peer at each other lovingly before your Uncle rose up to speak, back hunched and breath coming out rugged and wild. Even while his face was covered, it was obvious his health was declining by the second. 

“It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in all the world… yet grown so distant from each other… in the years past.” His hand reaches up, grasping the gold mask and unclasping it, making you tense up immediately from surprise. 

A skull. His skull. 

The right side of his face had sunken in and molded to the bones of his face, the eye gone forever like his son’s. It was a horrible sight, but knowing that the man who had to endure it was your darling uncle made your heart ache.

“My own face… is no longer a handsome one… if indeed it ever was. But tonight… I wish you to see me… as I am. Not just a king… but your father. Your brother. Your husband… and your grandsire. Who may not, it seems… walk for much longer among you.” The mask is dropped to the table with a loud CLUNK, “Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances. If not for the sake of the crown… then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly.”

Viserys shrinks back into his seat, being helped by Alicent who assists him in wiping his mouth, Rhaenyra now abruptly standing and holding her cup up. Her foot visibly shook from under the table, “I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen.”

The two women looked each other in the eyes, Alicent’s gaze softening a bit at those words before she continued. 

“I love my father. But I must admit that no one has stood… more loyally by his side than his good wife. She has tended to him with… unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude… and my apology.”

She takes a quiet seat, setting her cup down, and Alicent responds.

“Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess. We are both mothers… and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow.” She stands, ringed hand grasping her cup, “I raise my cup to you… and to your house. You will make a fine queen.”

Rhaenyra and Alicent are both smiling to themselves as Alicent finally sits, and oddly enough, Rhaenyra raises her cup once again and looks to you now with a soft gaze, one of a mother.

“I’d also like to announce… Here and now, since Y/N is now my oldest child by law, I want to grant her the title as heir to the Iron Throne after me. A title very deserving of such a smart and beautiful woman, I loved your mother and she’d be very proud of how far you have come.” She raises the cup higher, everyone now doing so except Aegon whom was too busy drowning himself in booze.

“Hear, hear!” 

Daemon clasps a proud hand on your shoulder, but your eyes gravitate to Aemond who tilted his cup to you with a smirk before taking a rather large gulp. A sign of respect perhaps? 

The positive feelings were always to be interrupted, with Aegon now up and refilling his cup of wine. He was whispering to your sister, not loud enough for you to hear until Jace slammed his fists into the table, seat skittering as he rose quite quickly. 

Jace clears his throat, but the tensions didn’t stop rising, Aemond now stood and eyeing up Jacerys, almost mentally telling him to stand down. And instead of attacking Aegon, Jace raised his cup to toast, patting Aegon on the shoulder rather awkwardly.

“To Prince Aegon and… Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family’s good health, dear uncles.” He takes a swift swig of his wine and gives Aegon another pat on the shoulder for the second time, making the man audibly groan, “To you as well.”

Aemond slowly shuffled back down into his seat and Helaena muttered a phrase under her breath while messing about with a thing in her clutches, “Beware the beast beneath the boards…”

“Well done, my boy.”

Helaena stands a bit off kilter, raising her wine glass, “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They’ll be married soon. It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you… except sometimes when he’s drunk.”

A bit of laughter choruses from the two families and the bright girl takes her seat once again, smiling wider than before. She was definitely your favorite between her and Aegon.

“Let us have some music.”

The prospect of hearing gentle tunes eased the anxiety of being sat at the table, and you visibly relaxed, holding the hand that Rhaenyra had held out to you, tightly. Jacerys stood up and excused himself before offering a hand to Helaena to dance, the girl taking his hand with a faint enthusiasm. Aegon, however, looked offended at that fact, yet the two still jumped around merrily with large smiles on their faces, putting a smile on your face also. 

What shocked you was the tap on the shoulder you received, followed by the piercing eye of the man you adored staring down at you.

“Would you care to dance, Princess…?”

You hesitated at first, feeling your father’s eyes barreling into your head, yet your hand found Aemond’s, his fingers gently cusping over yours as he guided you to rise from your seat and stand near your brother and aunt.

One hand stayed clasped in his, the other on his rather broad shoulder as his free hand slid down to greet your waist with a singular touch. He guided the whole waltz, taking the liberty of spinning you and adding flare to the dance, making you giggle and laugh out into the night, all to the displeasure of your father, intensely watching the whole interaction with distaste. Yet, your uncle only watched you two adoringly, seeing himself and Aemma within you and Aemond. A tough man and his adoring wife, a misunderstood boy and the one who understands him the most.

Eventually, the man who held your very heart in his palm guided you back to your seat, kissing your hand ever so kindly before taking his seat, grabbing his chalice to take a hefty gulp of wine. Rhaenyra looked fairly happy, face turned upward and eyes sparkling with child-like wonder that she had lost ages ago. Alicent looked just about the same, smiling at her. It felt… good, and normal, and like home, to be with all the people in your family.

The moment was cut short when Viserys began to groan in pain and Alicent called for the guards to escort him back to his chambers for rest, your father’s face dropping at seeing his brother in pain. Yet, servants came in with various food items as the king was just leaving, a finely cooked pig being set in front of Aemond. 

This aroused a laugh out of Lucerys, who was looking Aemond in the eye while openly laughing, the music coming to a stop once Aemond slammed a fist into the wooden table. His thin and wiry fingers curled atop the wine chalice, raising it up.

“Final tribute.”

Discomfort surfaced over every other emotion you felt, and you pleaded with him through desperate eye contact which seemingly egged him on further. 

“To the health of my nephews: Jace… Luke… and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise…”

Alicent almost seems to stiffen, eyeing up her son, while his eyes bounced between his nephews and you. He was going to say it, you knew it, you felt it in your very heart of hearts, so you braced for the outrage.

“Hm… strong.”

“Aemond–”

“Come… let us drain our cups to these three…” Aegon raises his cup, “Strong boys.”

“I dare you to say that again–”

“Why?” He gazes at Jace, “‘Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?”

The two boys strided towards each other quickly and Jace quickly swung a punch towards Aemond, striking him in the face. It sounded like Lucerys was also getting in a squabble, but you were only focused on Aemond being okay and Jace being unscathed. 

You quickly rose and went to grab Jace to separate him and Aemond, but Aegon took the moment to let go of Lucerys and throw you into the table with him, causing your sisters to shout loudly and stand up, ready to defend you. 

The guards quickly ended the fighting, but not before Aemond shoved Jace down to the ground with a chuckle. 

Daemon was quick to help you from the table, holding you with loving arms of a father who cared heavily for his first-born daughter and future heir to the throne after Rhaenyra. Your eyes were on Aemond, who seemed satisfied with the petty squabbles, and even though he wasn’t looking at you, he could feel how hurt you were, like it was raining upon him from the very skies. 

“Why would you say such a thing before these people?”

“I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother.” Daemon looks at you with eyes of suspicion due to your lingering stare towards Aemond, “Mm, though it seems my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.” 

Jace lunges for Aemond, but you step up, “Wait, wait!”

You hold your arms up to keep distance between Aemond and Jace, everyone's face contorting in confusion. Rhaenyra excuses her sons to go to bed and you keep eye contact with Aemond. 

“You went too far–”

“Y/N–”

“You went too far and you know it, Aemond. I thought you… cared for me.. Enough to at least not claim my brothers are bastards.”

His face contorts to one of guilt, looking almost sorry for even causing such trouble. His eyes suddenly look behind you, and you know your father is most likely staring arrows into Aemond. 

“Mm..” You hear Daemon behind you, and Aemond shrugs it off, now walking away with haste. Before you could chase after him, Daemon gently grabs our wrist to hold you in place.

“Daughter, do you hold affections for the boy who just insulted your brothers?”

Rhaenyra stared intensely from beside him.

“If I did… then what? Would you have me exiled like you were? Fulfill what everyone thinks, that I am a mini version of you? I just want everyone to get along for once, but it seems there will always be a strain upon both of our families…” You look at Alicent, whom looks visibly happy that you are finally saying something about how you feel. Something she could never do as a young woman due to the men in her life.

“I will love who I want, and if Aemond is the one I choose… then so be it. Disinherit me from the throne, throw my name from our family books, I could care less.”

Before Daemon could speak, you walked past him, sending Rhaenyra an apologetic look with your hands balled into fists. You had to find Aemond.

-

You would eventually find Aemond within his chambers, clutching his eyepatch in his left hand while staring wearily out of the window to his left. You couldn’t see his lost eye from the angle you were standing at, but you could see his other eye, blue and almost glowing with the light of the night. 

“You defend me against your family, yet when I insult them, you barely bat an eye… why?”

His voice is calm, low and tired. He had a point, why did you defend him? Should you have just sided with Rhaenyra and her blood children?

“Aemond…–”

“The connection we felt as young children was fleeting, yet you didn’t partake in beating me to a pulp. Why?”

You took firm steps to get closer to him, but he kept his head tilted just so you couldn’t see the other side of his face. He looked almost scared to be vulnerable with you. Yet, you brought a hand up to his cheek and slowly turned his head to look fully to you, and you stifle a gasp.

A sapphire glowed faintly in the socket where his eye would have been, the blue striking and beautiful. It held a sapphire glare, one that made your heart skip a beat. 

He was beautiful, even if his mind told him he was imperfect.

“I’m monstrous, aren’t I?”

“Not in the slightest.”

His face softened significantly at your words and his head leaned down to be against yours, cold yet inviting.

“You always reminded me of sapphires, and I wanted to always keep you in my mind’s eye.”

“Such flattery should only come between those who know each other deeply-”

Before you could utter a word more, his lips were on yours. 

The ocean and the flames, The sapphire and the ruby, together at last.

[moni-logues]

A Dream Come True

Pairing: Jin x reader (afab)

Genre: roommates-to-lovers, smut/pwp

Content: masturbation (reader), use of a vibrator, protected sex

Word count: 3k

Summary: You've been fantasising about your roommate (and making it obvious) for weeks; Jin has been a little slow on the uptake, desperate to avoid awkwardness and embarrassment. It's only when he's tired and worn down from work that he finds himself able to skip over his self-consciousness and you get to find out what happens when dreams come true.

A/N: hehe, it's another repost! I feel like I haven't reposted anything for a bit. This one has had a pretty reasonable facelift but is not unrecognisable haha. The smut has (i hope) been improved significantly but that's really where most of the editing went (shocking, in a pwp, huh). It's not been read over or edited since the editing, so I might nip back and check it over tomorrow when I'm better rested haha. anyway, hope you enjoy! Missing Jin hours are always open!

* * *

It’s been a long day. You’re tired. You’re frustrated. You feel all this pent-up aggression inside you that won’t go away. You’ve been to the gym; you’ve hit that punching bag a thousand times, but you’re still too tightly-wound to sleep. You look at your phone. It’s late. You pick it up and unlock it, then pause. You were about to message a particular ‘friend’ of yours, but you think better of it. You’re not sure when Seokjin will get back and you don’t want him overhearing – not because you’re embarrassed; you just don’t want him to think you’re unavailable. You need it to be clear to him that there’s nothing standing in his way… if he wants to go there, that is. 

Truth be told, you’re not sure he does want that. You feel as if you’ve been obvious enough recently; you live together, for god’s sake, so there’s plenty of opportunity! But he hasn’t taken the bait. You can’t decide whether this is because he’s not noticed (possible) or he has noticed but is pretending not to so he doesn’t have to out-and-out reject you (also possible, but you hope not the case). You feel reasonably confident, knowing him as well as you do, that he would do the right thing and tell you if you were barking up the wrong tree. But that doesn’t explain why he hasn’t given any indication that he’s picked up on your feelings. Short of walking around naked or grabbing and kissing him on a random Thursday night, there’s not a lot you haven’t done to make it clear. Or that’s what you think anyway; you’ve never had to work quite this hard before. Sometimes it makes it difficult to hope. Other times (like right now), it makes you frustrated. 

You were already frustrated and this has not helped. you shake your head and blow out a a deep breath; there’s no point getting annoyed about it and there’s no point making any sort of decision or taking any kind of action now: it’s late and brains do not work well at night. No good decisions are made after 9pm. You know this. 

You finish brushing your hair and slide into bed, taking some slow, calming breaths. You close your eyes and continue thinking about Jin but in slightly different terms. You fantasise about what you would do if you were together; when he comes in from work, so late, so over-worked, and you kiss him gently and take off his clothes. He wraps his long arms around you and sucks at your neck. He’s tired, but never too tired for you. As if your lips were electricity, each kiss makes him feel more alive. He lifts you and carries you over to the bed where you straddle him and grind your hips, his cock already hard, already straining against the thin fabric of his underwear. 

You imagine wrapping your fingers around him then your lips. You don’t just imagine your hand running down your body and slipping into your own underwear. You’re wet and aching for him. Naturally.  

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself; you have got it bad. Big time.  

A thought passes fleetingly into your head: god, what would happen if he came in right now? if he knew what I was thinking? A tremor of excitement runs through your body like an electric shock. 

What if he liked it? 

You know, somewhere in your Smart Brain, that if he came in right now, things would not unfold in the way you are fantasising, that it would likely be awkward and embarrassing and could ruin things between you forever. But your Smart Brain is so not in control anymore. So you let your mind continue to roam around his body—his body and yours, tangled, entwined, hot, sticky, hearts racing, blood rushing. You bite your lip, trying to be quiet and then remember that he’s not even home, so you let yourself be loud. It’s not the real deal but this is as close as you can get and besides, who knows your body better than you do? 

*  *  * 

It’s been a long day. Jin is tired. He looks at the clock and can’t believe he’s not even left the building yet. They had been promised that they’d get off at a reasonable hour today; it was assured. Then things just kept coming up and now it’s almost 11pm and he’s still at work. He rubs a hand across his eyes and sighs, blinking hard. His contacts are bothering him but he doesn’t have his glasses – it was supposed to be a short day after all. It’s giving him a headache and he can’t concentrate. What is even the point of their being there? No one makes good decisions so late at night. 

He stands suddenly and announces that he’s off home. He tells the others to do the same; they can get back to work tomorrow but, right now, they all need their rest. 

He had cycled in this morning, but there’s no way he’s going to ride his bike all the way back home. He takes a taxi and almost nods off in the backseat. He trudges into the building, leaning heavily against the lift wall as it takes him to his floor. He has to heave himself off it when the doors open, moving so slowly that they almost shut before he makes it out.  

When he gets into the apartment, he sighs with relief: finally home. Like a weight instantly lifted, he feels lighter, more comfortable, even just standing in the hallway.  

He walks to the kitchen and grabs a glass of water, drinking it at the sink, wondering if you’re still awake. He feels grumpy and frustrated and would really like to hang out for a bit, chill and unwind, but he doesn’t want to disturb you. 

He’s felt things change between you recently and he’s not sure what to do about it. Initially flustered by your sudden flirting, he feels like he has missed his window to respond appropriately and has just made things awkward. It’s not that he’s not interested, not at all, but it’s different when you live with someone. You can’t go home from a date when you live with the person you’re dating; it’s like living on a date and who wants that? It’s complicated- well, it would be complicated if anything happened between you. He’s thought about it; he really has. A lot, actually. Come to think of it now, he looks towards your bedroom door – slightly ajar – and, in the silence of the apartment, his ears focused, he hears you. 

*  *  * 

One hand tightly grips the sheets whilst the other holds your favourite vibrator against you. You rut against it, trying to let go and give in, but frustration lingers. It’s not the same. All you can think about is Jin, the mysteries of his long, lean body, his unknown face as he comes, the unheard sounds of pleasure escaping his lips. 

Jin stands just outside your room, and he’s about to knock but something stops him. He knows this could be a disastrous move. Awful. Could ruin everything. But he’s tired and not necessarily thinking straight and he also knows that this could be the very thing to get the two of you over this hump. 

He opens your door and walks in. With your eyes shut, you don’t see him enter but you notice his presence and your eyes fly open as he shuts the door with a click. Your eyes meet and his expression is unreadable. You aren’t sure what to do; this could be the very thing you’ve just been fantasising about or it could be the most excruciatingly embarrassing moment you’ve ever shared. 

“Are you thinking about me?” Jin asks, not breaking eye contact.  

He starts to unbutton his shirt and it’s discarded on the floor before you’ve even processed his question. 

Your heart is beating even faster now as adrenalin floods your system. You feel your mouth suddenly go dry as you take in his bare chest, his fingers unbuckling his belt, pushing his trousers to the floor. You must be dreaming. Literally. You’ve fallen asleep and this is a dream because there’s no way Jin just walked into your room, no way he’s standing over you looking at you with thinly veiled desire in his eyes, no way he’s palming at his cock, stiffening quickly under his touch, straining against the fabric of his underwear. 

“Yes,” you whisper in response, your voice taken by your breathlessness. You nod for good measure. 

He nods. 

“I’ve been thinking about you, too.” 

Then he hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and drags them down his legs, stepping out of them, coming closer, kneeling over you. Your mouth opens and closes, trying to catch a word, a sound, something but there’s nothing, nothing until he slips two fingers inside you and you can’t stop the whine that leaves your mouth. Nor can you stop the tilt of your hips, the clench of your walls. He smirks, withdraws, and puts those two fingers at your mouth. Still eye-to-eye, you close your lips around his fingers and suck. His eyelids flutter briefly and you see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. You’re transfixed just looking at him. 

Having licked his fingers clean, he pulls them back from your mouth and the world seems to stop spinning for a moment. Time holds its breath as you and Seokjin look at each other, pausing for a fraction of a second... 

Then it passes and, instantly, you’re in each other’s arms. You bite at his bee-stung lips and he sweeps your hair aside to kiss your jaw and your neck and your shoulder. Your bodies press so closely together, you can feel his heart thumping in his chest; you run your hands through his hair, across his shoulders, down his arms. You can feel him pressed against your thigh and your walls clench in anticipation. It’s quick and frantic and a blur of lips and limbs and breathless words barely uttered, barely heard. It really is like a dream, everything moving simultaneously too fast and too slow, everything a blur and everything in hyper-focus; real and fantastical and you feel so fully in your body as he touches you whilst also feeling disembodied, like you’re floating above yourself watching this happen. Your skin is alight, everywhere, burning where he presses his lips, tingling where he lays his hands. They wander down your body and spread goosebumps all over, a spark shivering down your spine. It’s already almost overwhelming. And you had been so, so close before he interrupted.  

You’re suddenly impatient. As much as you are enjoying this part, you can’t wait any longer. Turning quickly, you grab a condom from your bedside table and make quick work of its application. You grab Jin’s shoulders and pull him around, pushing him back against the headboard. Without wasting another second, you take his hot, heavy cock and lower yourself onto it, sighing as you take him all the way to the hilt. Then you pause. 

You stay like that for a beat. It feels so fucking good to be so fucking full of him but there’s a stretch to accommodate all of him and you give yourself a second to adjust. A second in which his hands squeeze hard at your glutes, in which his lips press lightly at your jaw and his teeth graze at the delicate skin of your neck. There’s a shudder as he bites down and you keen, clenching against him until he groans.  

You start to roll your hips and it somehow isn’t anything at all like you imagined. Reality has obliterated your fantasies and you can’t even remember what you had been thinking about minutes prior. He’s hotter and leaner and bigger and smoother and stronger. As you stare into his dark, dark eyes, you still can’t bring yourself to believe that this is real, but you can‘t believe it is a dream either because you couldn’t have imagined the exact way the head of his cock hits your g-spot just right with each stroke; you couldn’t have imagined the sounds he’s making or the words he’s saying. He fills your vision, the rest of the room – the rest of the world – a blur to you now.  

You lean your head on his shoulder to catch your breath for a moment and Jin wraps his arms around you, rolling and then lowering you onto your back. He kisses you deeply and guides himself back into you, thrusting slowly at first, then picking up the pace. His eyebrows are brought together in a light frown, his mouth pouty and slack; you look at him, making a study of his face, this face that you’ve imagined a thousand times but never seen before. You think he is a work of art.  

You tip your head back and he kisses your chest, sucking on your nipple as his fingers rub teasingly at your clit. You feel full and tight, your entire body stretched to its limits, ready to burst, ready to pop. You’re back at the cliff’s edge again, teetering over it, and then Jin’s fingers press harder, move faster and your rhythm stumbles. Every muscle in your body goes tense, your teeth catching flesh between them, your nails digging into his shoulders as you come. You hear him pant, vocal little ‘ah’s as your cunt clutches him in spasm. Then all the tension and frustration leaves your body at once.  

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” you whisper in his ear, hands wandering to any part of his body you can reach. “I’ve imagined this so many times.” 

He kisses your cheek and his hair tickles your face. So many times you’ve thought about this happening and so many details you’ve missed: the smell of his shampoo, the long dip in his back where his spine sits, the flush in his cheeks, the way his fingers wrap all the way around your wrist. 

“And is it like you imagined?” he asks, his voice breathy and strained. 

“No.” 

He stutters and looks at you, surprised, confused. 

“It’s so much better,” you purr. 

He laughs and shakes his head. You tilt your hips and bring your legs up, allowing him to get even deeper, and he thrusts harder in response, gripping your thigh tightly. It hits you, this post-orgasm clarity, the reality of this situation. It is happening. Really, truly for real. A thousand and one of your fantasies coming true at once. A shiver ripples through you and you can feel the pressure building inside you again.  

Jin is fucking you. Jin, with one hand tangled in your hair. Jin with those big, brown eyes looking, right at you, right now. Jin whose stupid laugh wakes you up when he’s gaming at 3am. Jin who will watch whatever you put on the telly, no matter how much he claims to hate it. Jin who cooks for you. Jin who tells his mother when you’re ill so she will make her home remedies to make you better. Jin who is kind and sweet and funny and (not so) secretly sensitive and wise and-… that Jin. That Jin. Your Jin. Your friend. Your roommate. That Jin is fucking you. That Jin is kissing you and praising you and putting one hand between your flushed, hot bodies to find your clit.  

“Fuck,” you whimper, your toes starting to curl. 

He starts moving faster and the wave of pleasure hits you again. Submerged in a sea of ecstasy, you pull him under with you and feel his muscles twitch as he comes with a grunt, with a gasp, with you. He presses his forehead against yours and you pull his face closer, kissing him so hard you can’t breathe. He kisses your lips and your cheeks, your ear and jaw and neck. He lies heavily on top of you, breathing deeply. 

There’s not a breath of space between you and the moment hangs suspended, like a sword of Damocles. This probably shouldn’t have happened like this. One of you is going to have to say something, shine the light on this now that you’re both sated and spent. You’re going to have to talk about this, properly. But, right at this moment, neither of you is thinking about that. Neither of you is thinking much at all. Just feeling: your hot skin pressed together, the tiny breeze of his breath against your neck, the pounding of your heart in your chest; you’ve never been more fully in your body than you are now.  

Jin groans as he lifts himself up and off you, crossing the room to throw away the condom. You see his eyes glance down at his discarded clothes, but you don’t want him to put them on. It’s cold in the space that he’s left in your bed and you want him back there. You beckon him and he obeys, crawling in next to you and curling into your side.  

“You were back late,” you say after a minutes or two’s silence, mostly just for something to say, because it feels like one of you has to. 

Jin grunts in response and you aren’t even sure if he’s still conscious, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks.  

“Work,” he mumbles eventually. “I’m going to call in sick tomorrow.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, you should, too.”  

“Why’s that?” 

“We’ve come down with something terrible,” he explains, tightening his grip on you. “We can’t even make it out of bed.” 

You can feel his lips stretch against your skin as he grins and you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, too.  

“Is that right?” 

He nods. 

“Yeah, I think it’ll be at least 24 hours until we’re better.”  

“I was thinking 48.” 

“Exactly.” 

[justjams2003]

Fast Pace- 12

Before we start, I'd just like to wish you all a very happy New Year! Know that there is plenty more to come from me in the coming year. And also thank you all for 420 followers (haha nice), I'm still in shock that people keep coming back and wants more. Believe it or not, this is the most active community and website I have ever written for and I'm so glad to have found Tumblr. Anyways enjoy xoxo

Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader

Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', nudity, a garbage family, family trauma, disowning, tell me if I missed any

Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian @hachrinnen

Word count: 3,1k

Masterlist

Part 11~Part 13 (coming soon)

“Echanté de voi rencontre, Monsur.” Carlos is trying his best, but at the moment he is butchering your home-tongue. You can’t but be nervous, he however seems as calm as a cucumber about meeting your parents. He’s got the sunglasses on that you gave him. You can see from where your sitting, your initials carved into the side. “No, no, mon cher. Good try, but it’s Enchanté de vous rencontrer, Monsieur.”  

He sighs, rubbing his face in his hands. He looks so much more relaxed already. He’s got short khaki’s on and a casual button up shirt. You’ve hired a more practical car for the week, one with a big trunk. You got your family lots of presents and might have overpacked a bit. Still not used to having such a big amount of money. But even still, you have the sunroof open, enjoying the county side air.  

“I’m sorry, mi querida,” he shakes his head and rakes his fingers through his hair. You can’t help yourself, tucking the stray hairs that fray in the wind behind his ears. “I should’ve gotten a haircut before we came.” He sighs, but you can see that he enjoys your touch. “No, it is the perfect length, don’t change a thing about it.” He gives a side-eye but you can only laugh. “No, it’s in the way.” 

You pout, “No, your hair is just long enough to...grab...” you mutter, taking a handful of hair and pulling on it ever so slightly. Surprisingly, a growl escapes his throat. The noise causes a warmth to spread through your body.

The sunlight hits his skin just beautifully, he looks like hot caramel. Something you want to drizzle into your mouth. You’re sure you could cook a steak on his sizzling skin.  

“This is your home then?” He asks, while caring the bags. He refuses to let you carry a single one. You nod and then knock on the door. “It is a small house for 7 people, no?” He’s not wrong. “Oui, us three girls had to share a room and the boys shared a room.” He grimaces at your words, “Then one day we will have a big house.” You blush at his words and wrap your arms around his, all while subtly taking a photo.  

The door opens, you only now realise how short your mom has gotten. Or maybe it really has been so long. “Ah, ma fille, tu viens enfin rendre visite à ta vieille mère. Cela fait si longtemps et enfin tu ramènes un homme à la maison!” She instantly starts rambling and then opens up her arms and gives Carlos a big hug. “N'es-tu pas si beau? Quel est votre nom et pourquoi êtes-vous avec ma fille?”  

Carlos looks like a fish out of water. His face is entirly blank and he just seems to be nodding along. “Enchanté de vous rencontrer, Mademoiselle,” he stutters through the French, his Spanish accent still blatantly obvious. Your mother just frowns at his bad French. “He doesn’t speak French.” Her wide smile turns sour, “Pourquoi faire venir un homme inutile qui ne parle pas français?”  

You sigh and then nudge him, “the presents,” you whisper. “Il s'appelle Carlos et il a apporté des cadeaux.” Now she really does smile as he holds up the presents. “Oui, come in, come in.” Like always, he allows you to walk in first.

“What did she say?” He asks to you in a whisper. You sigh and shake your head. “Nothing that you need to worry yourself about.” You give him a kiss on the cheek, trying to soothe his usually worry.  

“Apportez-lui quelque chose à boire, je suis sûr qu'il est fatigué après son très long voyage.” You sigh, of course she asks that of you. As if you and him didn’t have the same trip. You turn to Carlos after he sat down along with your mother to open her present, that you picked out. 

 “Carlos, what would you like to drink?” He frowns and then stands up. He takes your arm and then leads you to the couch. “You must be tired, mi querido, it was a four-hour trip, I’m sure you are tired.” He leads you to sit down next to him, he pulls you into his side. Everything in you wants to cuddle into his side, but you can feel your mother’s judgemental eyes on you.  

Instead, you shake your head, “My mother insists that I get you something to drink. You did drive after all.” You can see the tick in his jaw, clearly not happy with this. He smiles, forced clearly, “Please tell your mother I don’t need anything to drink.” You sigh and do just so and she replies with some comment insisting you do just that. Yes, you are exhausted but even still you stand and pour him a drink.  

“Je vais lui montrer la chambre.” You grab him by the arm and pull him up towards your old bedroom. Quite ungracefully you fall on your childhood bed. He smirks, but his smile is quick to fall. “Mi dulce niña, does she always make you feel like this?” Carlos asks you give and exhausted laugh. “You don’t even know what she said,” you peak at him, and he pulls you into his lap.  

He kisses your forehead, “Tell me," You sigh and rest you head on his shoulder. “When she met you, she went, ‘you’re so handsome why are you dating my daughter?’ And then she went, ‘you’re so stupid bringing a man that doesn’t even speak French.’ Then after that it was, ‘poor thing he’s so tired bring him something to drink.’ As if I wasn’t on the exact same trip as you!”  

His jaw locks and his arms wrap tighter around you, “Does she always speak to you like that,” you sigh and sink deeper into his arms. “Why do you think I brought you with. Call you my armour,” you laugh, actually hiding behind his arms. He laughs, but it’s the same type of awkward type, “Where is your dad, is he any better?”  

You hum and then walk down the stairs again after taking your breather and then ask your Maman where your father is. “He is outside with your brother, working hard as always,” she says, still in French.

“Really, which one?” You ask, opening the back door, only to see your oldest brother chopping wood while your father carves the same wood right next to him. “Bér!” You call out and once he sees you, he smiles.  

You walk into the back fields, Carlos trailing behind you and when you do finally meet your brother, he gives you a warm hug. “Finally, back in your own country,” he comments, and you can’t help but furrow your brows. “What do you mean?” You ask, you haven’t told anyone about anything. “You think I haven’t noticed? I am not like Mama and Papa who do not own a phone and use the library’s computer to email you.”  

You frown and watch his eyes. They’re train on Carlos who seems to be struggling with the mud and his very expensive shoes. “Traveling the world with mister Armani,” he teases you like always, and you can’t help but step on his shoes. “Enchanté, Monsieur.” Carlos holds out his hand and it makes you and your brother laugh out loud. “Don’t worry, race-man... I am not her father.” You jab your brother in the stomach.  

“But he’s even worse.” He groans and then begins complaining in French but you’re quick to stop him. “Connard, you know Carlos doesn’t speak French, clearly, you’ve been stalking him. So don’t be an ass,” Bérenger sighs at your words and then translates for Carlos.

“I was just saying that I you see in your fancy Ferrari and your expensive shoes, no one in the family can understand someone like you being with a dull girl like her.” He shrugs and you both laugh, it’s the way you talk as siblings.  

Even so, Carlos’ expression turns sour. “He much more than that Bérenger, now, play nice.” Before you turn to leave to say hello to your father, you ask your brother one last thing. This time in French, because you’d rather not have Carlos know just yet. “How is Papa today?” You brother hesitates, knowing exactly what you’re talking about. “He’s there, like before, no confusion yet today.”  

You nod and make your way over. “Bonjour Papa, I’ve come to visit.” Your father looks up to you, his eyes clear. Not that his personality has changed much, he replies in a gruff tone. “Who’s the boy?” His eyes are like daggers on Carlos.

“He’s my boyfriend,” your dad rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure. And for how long is he going to put up with you?” You laugh, like always keeping the peace. “I’m not some terrible burden. At least, not in his eyes.”  

Like always he just replies with a scoff.  

Before long, you’re washing dishes after dinner. “Mi paloma, please tell your mother the dinner was delicious.” You can feel his big strong arms wrap around your waist. You’re sure he's feeling a bit alone. It’s only been you and your brother here who can even speak English.

You smile, “Thank you, Carlos, but she didn’t make it.” It’s the truth, the whole evening Bérenger and Carlos chopped wood, all while you have to take care of your mother’s ever whim, like always.  

It doesn’t bother you; it’s always been like this. But you can tell it’s getting to Carlos. “No wonder I liked it so much, it’s your cooking. But, mi dulce niña, you barely ate, aren’t you hungry?” He caresses yours even as you continue washing. “Thank you, Carlos, it’s nice hearing some positive words after that dinner.” He sighs, burrowing his face on the crook of your neck.  

“You’re avoiding my question.” He places small kisses here and there. “It’s not in the diet plan,” it’s an excuse, your mother had been commenting on your weight all evening. Yes, it’s true you’d gained weight, but you’d been working out and most of it is muscle. But her words are sharp, and the thoughts are springing up. If it makes her happy, better so. He does his usual noise when he’s unhappy when something.  

“Tomorrow I’ll cook dinner,” you gasp, turning to him, his words have caused delight in you. “I’d like to see that,” his brows furrow but a smug look is on his face. “What? You don’t think I can?” In your mind, yes, he has a difficult life, but that’s just stress. He has personal chefs and personal trainers and likely his father had too. Not way did he ever learn to cook. “No, not at all.” 

You cross your arms, and he just laughs. “Fine then, I'll show you. You can even post it on your Instagram.” This sparks joy, you love seeing people’s reactions to you and him.

So far, they’ve been nothing but positive. In these short three weeks you’ve gotten 50k new followers. If they’re there for you or Carlos, doesn’t matter to you. You’ll give them what they want either way.  

“You mean it?” Your hands reach up and take hold of his shirt. “Only if you eat,” and with that you bite your lip and nod. “Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal.” He sighs, takes a drying rag and begins helping you by putting away the dishes. “Oh Carlos! Ne perdez pas votre temps avec la vaisselle, Y/N la fera. Laisse-moi te montrer ses photos de bébé.”  

You sigh, leaning your head against his chest. “Oh no,” his brows furrow pulling you away to see what the matter is. “She wants to show you my baby pictures.” A deep laugh escapes his chest. “Mi querida, I’d love to help you finish this, but I can’t miss that.” You laugh but do allow him to see little you.  

“What colour are you choosing?” You ask your mother, watching as she scans through the different nail polishes. Like expect she chooses a toned-down pink, she rarely does her nails but when she does, it’s always that same colour. “Why don’t you choose something different? Look I’m going with this black with gold shimmer. We’re somewhere nice, don’t you want to use the opportunity?”  

Your mother just looks at you over her glasses. “And why is that?” It’s already Thursday, the week had been going by slower than you expected it would and only made you realise why you visit so little.

The only good thing so far has been your father’s awareness, he’s had a few moments of unclarity these past few months. Even so, just like growing up, he doesn’t exactly stand up for you against your mother’s badgering.  

Like always, it's just the usual gruff short replies and relative quietness. Carlos, however, has been nothing but kind. The dinner he cooked was amazing, the fans swooned in your comments. At night he’d hold you tight and whisper sweet nothings. All about how beautiful you are and how you’re perfect as is. It helps, yes, but nothing compares to motherly love. You do everything you can, but still don’t feel like enough.  

“Ah, Mama, don’t be like that.” After that, she continues about the gossip of the town and the lives of your siblings. That is of course until you’re sitting at the dinner table again. Enjoying the food Carlos has crafted to fit both of your diets, showing him your nails. He loves them and makes sure to kiss your knuckles.  

That is, until your mother interrupts your bliss. “Y/N, what did you say Carlos does?” You bite the inside of your cheek. “He is a Formula one driver.” You mutter, trying to hide yourself behind her sharp glare. “And are you still a chef?” You swallow your food; you’ve been avoiding this question for as long as possible. You shake your head, “No, Mama,” her bitter stare grows stronger.  

“So, what is it that you do?” She raises her voice, now your father seems interested. “I am working on my modelling career.” Both your parents groan and gasp in raised tones. “This again,” your brother mutters, he too has been harsh with you. “Why do you keep going on and on about this modelling. Ever since you were small. My daughter, you know I love you, but you aren’t like those pretty girls.”  

Her words are like knifes; knifes reopening wounds you’d been working so hard to heal. Carlos takes your hand under the table. This whole time he’d been encouraging you to stand up for yourself. Convincing you that what they’re saying aren’t normal and that you shouldn’t tolerate it. You’ve tried persuading him or more yourself that she’s your mother and she does it out of love.  

But she’s been ungrateful all week. As if she hasn’t been begging you to come home and talk to her. She comments on everything, your weight, your hair even your laugh. Saying you squeal like a pig, you tried to laugh less after that one. She hates her nails and all the presents you brought home. More than all, you’ve been dreading this happening. Hoping that it never would.  

“No, Mama, I do not know that you love me,” she gasps and begins screaming even more. “How could you not know? I raised you. I fed you, clothed you, gave you the deposit to get your degree. Which you don’t even use now!” The anger over comes you and you rise from your chair. “Carlos will gladly pay back all that money if I was such a burden on you!”  

The whole table goes eerily quiet. Soon it is interrupted by a scoff from your brother. “So what? He’s like your Sugar Daddy, right?” You take a moment to calm down, trying to decide if you’re going to say the truth. But they're your family. You should never lie to your family, right? “Yes,” you take his hand back into yours. You can see that he’s picked up his name and knows he’s being discussed.  

“What is that, Bérenger?” Your mother asks, switching between you and your brother. “She fucks him for money. A glorified prostitute!” His words are harsh and spit flies as he screams. You know for a fact that if Carlos understood French, he’d be raging.

“Unbelievable!” Your mother gasps out and another raging fire starts in you. “What? Is it so unbelievable that someone could actually love me so much that they’d pay to see me?”  

Years and years or anger and trauma, built up due to constant belittlement finally breaks through. “Why does it shock you all so much that he thinks I’m beautiful. That he thinks I’m more worth than all the riches in the world. You hate it that someone actually respects me, because you can’t knock me down anymore.”

Again, the table goes quiet before your brother speaks again. This time in English, clearly wanting Carlos to understand what he’s saying.  

“He doesn’t respect you. He doesn’t care for you. And he most certainly doesn’t love you. He just wants to fuck you. And once he’s bored of you, he’ll take what he’s given and leave you with nothing.” Before you can curse out your brother, a sharp crack is heard. Your brother is on the floor, nursing a bloody nose. “Don’t you ever, ever talk to her like that ever again.”  

You can hear your mother rambling on about her poor son and can only scoff at her reaction. “I’m not some city boy who doesn’t know how to throw a punch. You won’t believe how strong 6G’s of force make you.” Through all the commotion, there is a muttering that can be heard. Listening carefully, it is your father. “Get out, get out,” he repeats over and over.  

You bow your head down low, right by his ear but just shake off his words. This irritates him and he too raises his voice. “Get out, you’re no daughter of mine.” You laugh at his words, “Don’t be silly, Papa, you must be having one of your episodes.” You go to rub his back, in your mind to soothe him but he grabs your wrist before he can.  

“Hear me when I say this girl, because I am clear of mind when I do. While you are still whoring yourself out to this man, you are no daughter of mine.” The realisation hits you like a truck. So much so, that you stagger back, Carlos catching you as your head becomes dizzy. “Mi pequeña, what is the matter?” All you can do is shake your head.  

“Come, Carlos, it seems that we are not welcome here.”   

Just so p.s. me not translating the French and Spanish is for a reason. I'm not just being spiteful, it is part of the storytelling. If you want to get a good grade in fanfic reading (which is totally possible and a very normal thing to want) feel welcome to translate it 😉

Tag list is open, just ask!

[paper-mario-wiki]

I don't know if you've talked about this elsewhere already but was the break from streaming intentional and/or are you planning on returning to streaming some time in the foreseeable future? no pressure, I just miss your silly antics :o)

felt very burnt out from being someone who people are always lookin at all the time mostly! (and also a lot more reasons)

got a new job that pays just as well as streaming (which is enough to pay for rent in seattle with roommates, buy food for myself, and sometimes buy yet another japanese gamecube via online auction), and have been enjoying the feeling of not relying on anonymous teenagers and young adults who are just as poor as me on the internet for my income. It's something i was extremely grateful for, but it's not only a very infirm way to generate revenue on a reliable basis, but also i always felt an ever-present sense of guilt for it. like, instilling within other people who i know are in my tax bracket (one that is below the poverty line) the idea of "hey if you dont tip me for doing this free service, the quality of which is damningly subjective, I will be homeless. but no pressure haha" is something that i was never able to shake.

also like. performing is quite draining for me! the way i portray myself in my streams is EXTREMELY extroverted while, in my personal life, i prefer to spend 8 to 14 of my waking hours every day by myself in my room with my dog. i like the quiet, and i feel at peace most when i am not being perceived by other people.

lastly, i really dislike having inordinate levels of social power. for a several reasons. like, SEVERAL reasons. this is the longest section of this post.

8 years ago, i got way more famous than any 16 year old should ever be when i got tens of thousands of followers overnight for doing undertale shit. and i think it really fucked up my ability to make friends at a time where my only experience meeting new people was at school or at church, and i lived far enough out in the woods that i couldnt just go outside and hang out with the neighbors cuz the neighbors lived a mile away. my socializing skills in general are way more stilted than i'd prefer for someone my age. in private settings ive got my foot in my mouth a lot. and sometimes in public settings too! im sure if youve seen streams ive been on, youve seen plenty of "chase you really shouldnt have said that" moments. and youre probably right, i probably shouldnt have! my moment-to-moment gauge for what i should and shouldnt say is very slow to catch up cuz ive got like. advanced mental illnesses. like, im not joking when i say ive been formally diagnosed several times over by different doctors with shit ive never heard anybody ever talk about, online or otherwise.

i dont think that's an excuse to say heinous or cruel things by any means of course, but i also think that i should not rely on a job where there's constantly a microphone in my hand and an audience listening intently to what i say. im not at all pulling the "its okay that i say mean things because im mentawy iww" card. as a matter of fact i think it's not okay that i say them! and i feel very embarrassed when i do! the filter that separates "normal healthy thoughts" and "intrusive unhealthy thoughts" is thinner and more flimsy in my brain than in others.

ive only gotten this far because i surround myself with very smart, patient, and kind people, and by trying to be understanding and patient with others too. and ive begun apologizing to people a lot more. i dont like it when people are mad at me, and i dont like that for a long time i had professionally painted myself into a corner where im typically always the "heel" in comedy settings, because the "heel" is the guy everyone shits on all the time. i got this reputation not because i actively enjoy being mean, but because i learned to adapt to the aforementioned "clinically unreliable intrusive thoughts filter" by realizing i would say things that came across as mean, and in real time exaggerating that it into a character that people could shoot back at without feeling guilty while still having fun. theres nothing that ruins a good time quite like someone who is constantly apologizing for doing something wrong, and then continuing to do that wrong thing anyway. dont misunderstand, i absolutely adore dunking on weenies when everyone can get a good laugh out of it (like tumblr anons, who i think should be classified as prokariyotic invertebrates and not people (no offense)) but even though it's a joke it still feels very bad when that's expected of me when i walk into a room. because if i walk into a room, and everyone expects me to be an asshole, everyone is on the defensive before i say anything, and sometimes they take shots at me when im not trying to "play". even worse, if im a heel in a setting where it's expected of me and someone cant really keep up with "the bit" then that just means im being an asshole to someone who cant or doesnt have the energy to fight back. and not just any asshole, an asshole who has had nearly a decade of professional experience being a paid asshole.

if im being frank, i dont know if i'll come back in a full capacity. i might! im not ruling that out! and you'll probably still see me pop up in my friends streams, because i did LOVE what i did for a very long time! but after i took my "break" in december after being more stressed than ive ever been, and i knew it was no longer financially necessary for me to livestream, i had the thought "i will go back to streaming when i find within myself a desire to do so" and ya know what? i havent yet.

and DO NOT FUCKING BOTHER MY FRIENDS ABOUT THIS. if you post a fucking "hey have u heard what chase said" message in their chat or in their DMs or anything, im not joking when i say you are actively being the kind of person i changed my career to avoid! fuck you, for real! stop trying to interface with them to get some new piece of information or opinion about me you fucking weirdo! they'll talk about me if they want to, but going to someone who is doing their own thing and asking them to instead comment on someone else it is ALWAYS fucking annoying. if you want to think about me, do it by yourself! or ask me directly! or do it in the comment section of a video im in! or write a fanfiction about me and then throw it away!

but if ur not that kind of person then ur cool dont worry.

anywho! im sorry if this is a bummer to read. but that's the full skinny.

im still posting regularly on twitter (clown_depot)! and if i DO go live, either on my twitch channel or on a friend's stream, it will be posted there!

thanks for watching :^]

im not goin radio silent, im just gonna turn off the electric window that lets people see me for a while.

[my-darling-boy]

Have you had any ✨Ghost Experiences✨ in Scotland yet? Meet any new ghosts???

Ohhhh plenty, but far too many to list without going off on a ramble haha

We’ve done many overnights in castles and old buildings up and down the UK with a team of investigators which has led to really neat experiences, some of them absolutely poignant. I think my favourite interaction has been with a sweetheart of a young seaman called William aboard the RRS Discovery docked in Dundee, also the best K2 session I’ve ever had was there. But yeah, various castles, historic buildings, manors, prisons, etc with some really fascinating results.

I do like how it’s also putting the mediumship to the test which is something I still don’t really like bringing up in general to people but I have apparently shocked investigators/employees at these places with describing events, people, and other things with detail that is not even public or only known privately by people who frequent that location. Nearly all locations I’ve never been to and make a point not to read up on them before I go, which makes these instances more compelling? I often don’t even know the significance of what I’m (sheepishly) describing only to be told I just described a specific thing that happened in a room when there’s no way I could know about said thing. One of the best instances of this was on the RRS Discovery when trailing behind the group in the lower decks, I stopped suddenly. It felt as though something SMACKED very hard and very sudden right where I was standing, someone had lost their life in this very spot. I thought with the boilers around perhaps someone had been hit somehow and died or maybe fallen from the above platform and hit their head on the metal below but was told there were no known records of someone dying in that room and that the platforms didn’t exist at the time. I was perplexed by this as I was 100% sure something had happened there but I just ignored it, maybe I was wrong. We get up to the top deck finally and are told about a boy who, in 1901, tragically fell from the crows nest and died. The investigator and I suddenly realised I had been standing directly below the spot he would have hit on the upper deck when he fell. Another would be a nice young man I’d encountered at a private castle who seemed to be wearing some sort of chainmail and white tunic, followed me around for most of the night, and at one point I picked up on a story about a strange looking gold disc with all these markings on it on the alter in the chapel which he immediately told me not to ask about and refused to elaborate more, I had no idea why he was so adamant about this. I later learned after enquiry the castle historians have documented the place being used by the Templars and it’s a private fact at this location that the Templars have buried artefacts beneath the castle they are working to recover… most notably, beneath the chapel. I’d be talking for ages if I described the other occurrences, but that’s one I’ll always remember!

All and all, I do actually recommend doing it, even if you don’t believe in the stuff, because you get entire historic locations basically all to yourself, at night, which is cooler. I once sat for nearly an hour in a 200 year old jail on the floor, in the dark, at 2 AM, just chilling. On free roam while everyone is usually at base, I’ve been able to explore places by myself, in the dark, opening doors to rooms not even shown to us, panning my torch to old paintings and artefacts in basements to attics and bedrooms and so much more. I’ve sat alone in century old ships and played sea shanties which echoed hauntingly down the passageways. Sprawled out in the pews of medieval chapels in the pitch dark, wandered dark castle corridors alone, sometimes I’ll sing out old songs and just listen to it drift out through the halls and rooms. You feel like some character in a novel, it’s quite a liminal space! Like all these places where so many other people came before you, where people lived and died, sometimes even right where you’re sitting, and you’re able to lay out on the stones in the dark with it all and just feel connected to it yk?

Anyway that still ended up being a ramble HAHA so yeah! I recommend it for both believers and those less inclined because at the end of the day, you’ve basically got several hours of private access to historical locations, at night, no tourists, and sometimes to places the public isn’t allowed at all, and hey maybe something Strange will happen while you’re alone in the darkness.

[leo-interactive-fiction]

Hey, Leo! Hope you're doing alright. I was reading through the blog in chronological order because I wanted to see how much the characters have changed over the course of Triaina's development, and I realized that your answers to some of the old questions have probably changed, too! So, I wanted to bring up the old "what habits do the TA RO's have?" ask and ask you about if they've developed new habits or if their old habits are still accurate.

It's been a while since the start of the blog, and the characters have gone through plenty of evolutions and revisions as I solidified them into my writing. I don't remember the specifics of what exactly my old answers were for that ask, but I'm sure there's probably some things I say that may be the same, while others could be completely different nowadays haha.

Let's see...

E: They have a habit of eating when they're stressed and are fairly particular to certain candies. Their hyperactive lifestyle paired with an extreme metabolism gives them something of a second stomach despite their small stature, so they can end up eating quite a bit more than you'd think. They also have a habit of sticking to an early rising schedule, often being the first one up and about even though classes are hours from starting.

R: They have a habit of getting lost in their own thoughts, and there are often times where they will grow silent and despondent for a second while they think. Unfortunately, it is rare for them to expand on what their thoughts actually were. They also have a small quirk of looking at the ground when they're bored, and collecting rocks they think can be carved.

L: They often lose themselves in rambling when they talk about a topic of interest. Although the servants of their estate in Hospur wouldn't dare to stop them when they'd go on one of these long-winded speeches, they quickly came to realize not everyone held the same passion for discussion, and have attempted to moderate themselves if they find themselves leading a conversation for too long. They also have a habit of reading out loud and performing the motions of the book they're currently reading, an outcome of being isolated in their estate for as long as they have.

V: They make a steadfast habit of cleaning and maintaining their weapon and other equipment. Theyre very methodical in their cleaning process and always do it the exact same way every time, even down to where they place the parts on the table. They also have a habit of sleeping anywhere but on the bed provided by the academy.

P: They clearly have a cussing habit, but besides that they make a habit of doing constant physical conditioning. They also have a habit of tunnel visioning, and focusing very narrowly on one thing at a time when they get emotional.

M: Sleeping.

Ra: You. Also photography, courtesy of the state of the art phone provided to each student by the academy. Again, also of you.

S: They have a habit of doing everything as fast as possible, even at the risk of horrid catastrophy. Whether it's because they have a short attention span, they're used to racing, or they simply can't be assed, no one knows. They also habitually break personal barriers, a general result of the tight-knit communal lifestyle they're used to in Orden.

F: Despite their high stature, they have a habit of tailoring and fixing their own clothing rather than sending it in for someone else to do. They also make a habit of tending the small garden they've collected in their room, and may even dismiss certain meetings and events to make time for that task.

Thank ya for the ask! I'll have to find the old ask for this question and see what's changed since then haha

[sircantus]

LIFE IS STRANGE AU??

Can we get to know more about it, sir Cantus🙏

I can offer a snippet!! Its a crimeboys au, mostly from phils Pov according to my plot points, the basic summary is that Tommy has telekinesis powers, he causes Problems when running away from his foster home with Wilbur, him and Wil go on the run, and then they get picked up by Techno, who is not Exactly a man of the law but takes decent care of them. things at some point go sideways and Wilbur gets separated and put into a hospital for Injuries, and Phil is the person who has to try and gain his trust to figure out what the fuck has been going on (until bedrock bros to come and break him out haha)

Its mostly based off the second game of Life is Strange, bc i rly love the brothers story and i also really like that aspect of an outsider pov trying to understand whats going on (and trying to believe it)

—

Summary:

Phil leans forward, pen now discarded beside Wilbur’s lap. He’s been looking at Wil this entire time, really, but now it feels a little heavier. A bit too much to bear.

“I would like you to be honest with me.” The man says, voice soft. “If you want to be.”

Wilbur presses his lips tightly shut, thinking of Tommy’s smiling face, the leaves floating up around his hair, the sun in their eyes.

“I’d be willing to listen.”

(Or, Phil has heard plenty of stories from mistreated kids. It’s his job to open them up and help. This story is… maybe out of his skill set.)

(Or, or, life is strange AU. Wilbur is just trying to protect his little brother from everything he can, in any way he can. Phil just wants to try and protect him.)

—

And here is a snippet of the first few paragraphs!

—

Wilbur Soot. Sixteen. Brother of Tommy Soot, ten years old, whose whereabouts are currently unknown.

Both brothers are suspected to have had involvement in multiple instances of property damage across four different towns. Wilbur Soot is suspected to have had involvement in the mysterious, fiery death of their previous foster parent, Dream Taken, who was found dead at the scene at their previous residence.

For the past four months, legal enforcement has had trouble catching them as they run up and down the state. There have recently been scattered reports of an adult man now traveling with them; caucasian, pink dyed hair, tattoos on his right arm. No one has been able to pinpoint who that particular stranger is, though.

No one has been able to figure out where he took Tommy after the peculiar explosion that occurred in the quiet, forest town of l’manburg.

Wilbur is apparently outright refusing to talk. Phil doesn’t blame him.

The hospital setting isn’t something that provides comfort, to be honest, and with all the doctors and nurses prodding at Wil with a wariness like he’ll bite if they step too close. It's a wonder the kid hasn’t done much other than scowl for the past three days. Phil does his best to never set up expectations in his head before he sees his patients-- kids can always be so much different than you’d assume, after all-- but Wilbur’s file in his hands tells a story.

Suspected murder. Involvement in multiple explosions, multiple fires, multiple buildings crashing down into dust. Wherever this kid went with his little brother, destruction followed on his heels. On the day they were finally able to bring him in, pulling him from the rubble, he came kicking and screaming, even with his broken ribs and internal bleeding. Rumor around the halls says he gave one of the doctors a black eye when he woke up from the first surgery. The handcuff on his wrist to keep him confined to his hospital bed has stayed there ever since.

By all accounts, Wil is a dangerous, violent criminal, one who isn’t partial to conversation. Phil should probably expect an instant failure the second he walks into this room.

A failure isn’t what he sees when he comes through the door, though.

He sees a scared kid.

—

Aaand thats all im gonna give bc im self conscious about the rest of that story haha!! But yeah its meant to be long bonding arc with Phil and Wilbur in the hospital environment, with Phil kinda having this pressure behind him to get an Answer and Wilbur refusing to Speak bc how could he believe him? Would he even? Tommy has superpowers, thats not even something that would be safe for others to know.

Eventually Wilbur does tell him the whole story, hoping Phil will believe it and Phil…doesnt, but he doesn’t show that. He thinks Wil is a bit traumatized actually but then Tommy and Techno come back to yoink Wilbur and Phil sees he was telling the truth and ends up going with them bc he wants to help, he really does

Also the title is pretty plain, life is strange au haha yup

[drdemonprince]

what made you choose a deer for your fursona?

It's a long story that I am all too happy to tell!

I first attended Midwest Furfest in 2018, after years of being curious about it. My boyfriend at the time was a member of the Neo-Futurists Theater, and the Neo's had a longstanding relationship with the MFF community. They perform their flagship show (Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind, later rebranded as The Infinite Whale) there every year, and when the theater company's former founder attempted to steal their show name/copyright following his ousting due to sexual assault allegations, MFF really came through to offer considerable moral support.

There was lots of goodhearted joking about the furry community within that theater space, and I'd always been curious about furries and a supporter of them in heart if not in fact, and so I finally decided one year to tag along, see my boyfriend performing there, and walk around the convention floor and visit the dealer's den during my down time.

I absolutely LOVED IT. I was completely blown away by the artistry of the suits and the playful spirit of the suiters. I ran into a few friends there, outing them as furries to me, and we grew closer. I also took notice of some teal, sparkly resin antlers while I was in the Dealer's Den:

I snapped those things up and put them on immediately. Some stranger started to pet me right away (which is technically a convention consent violation, and should *not* be done, but I personally was the opposite of troubled by being treated in this way) and I was hooked.

I had always had a "thing" for antlers and horns since playing the PS2 game Ico back in the early 2000's. The young male protagonists horns representing an unwanted appendage and a visible "curse" was very appealing to me... as a boy who had been saddled with two very unwanted appendages of my own. (trangsender). I also have had many very magical encounters with deer in Ohio and Pennsylvania where I grew up. As a skiddish bottomy freak whose caused a lot of car accidents, a prey animal that also has the power to kill people in vehicles seemed plenty apt. So when I found some antlers to wear, it seemed like a natural enough fit for a potential fursona.

Then my friend @jettvector designed my fursona, using the teal antlers as a jumping off point. (this art has his old watermark on it, but he goes by jettvector now. commission him!):

Now that I had a friend-assigned fursona and was officially a furry, I ran with it, and began commissioning some art that further refined my image of the character:

this is from 9inko on Instagram

this one is from @heresvix, who specializes in deer

and this one is from @murgzt . I am currently having a partial fursuit of this iteration of the character made by Daring Duck Designs!! :0

A few things that I love about my sona's design: I love that his ears are big and really stick out, as my ears do the same, I love that he has a spot reflecting my monroe piercing, I love that deers are spotted in general, which can allow me to recast my own bacne scars in a more positive light, and i love that his greenish teal skin reflects my own olive complection (which I used to get a lot of weird comments about as a kid and felt self conscious about).

I also accumulated some gear in the meantime that allowed me to better embody my deersona, who I now call DD (which stands for Deer Devon, Docile Deer, Devon Dawn, my former DD tits, or any numer of potential things haha)

Hood by Miss Kinky Latex UK, photo by @photopotamus.

I have become a little bit more of a furry with each passing year, and it wouldn't have been possible without the hard work and creativity of so many people within the fandom, many of whom are beloved friends. <3 That's part of what makes it so special. Thanks for asking!

[dittydipity]

what is kagepro? - a quick guide

you may be seeing the word "kagepro" around a whole bunch, especially during august, but what the hell is it?

you may have heard or seen something from kagepro without realizing it! you know that vocaloid song, kagerou daze, about the kids who get hit by a truck and are stuck in a timeloop of saving each other? that's actually one of the songs from kagepro.

kagepro, short for the kagerou project, is a series created by vocaloid composer jin (also known as shizen no teki-p). it's a mixed media series that has music, manga, an anime, movie, a radio talk show, books, etc but i’ll try to keep it simple!

basic premise: people who die on 8/15 are taken to another world called the kagerou daze and if they return to the real world, they will have gained a “snake ability” that will turn their eyes red when used. a group of teens that have these abilities form a little gang but are thrown into an endless timeloop.

THE MEDIA

if you want to get into it, there’s a bunch of different ways you can do it, but do keep in mind: each form of media is NOT just a different adaptation of the story.

kagepro is a timeloop story, and each form of media is actually a different timeline (or “route”). the music videos, the anime, the manga, the books - each one is only a piece of the whole story. that’s why many people may have seen the anime, mekakucity actors, and gotten super confused because the anime is actually one of the last routes haha.

but the order of media that has been generally agreed upon to be the most coherent is music videos -> manga -> light novels -> anime

a lot of kagepro media, esp the light novels and manga, are hard to find since they’re almost entirely out of print, but there’s translations or e-book versions of them available, or if you skip them there’s summaries that people have made. you can also ask me if you want :]

music videos

i’ve actually made a couple playlists for the songs! one is in release order and the other is in story chronological order (mostly).

release order: - i tried to get all the original ia/miku versions of the songs with the original pv if there was one - a couple might be a little out of order since some songs came out together in the same album

this is the order that fans got the music, so if you want to try to figure things out and put things together the way we did you can go with this order!

chronological order: - tried to grab some english covers where i could, but if you don’t like eng covers there are plenty of noneng covers or you can use the videos from the other playlist. there's plenty of really great covers out there! - exceptions to the “chronological”: children record acts as the cover/opening song for the series and summertime record is the ending song for the series - some songs aren’t in here bc they’re not part of the music route (they’re mostly from the newer albums and are kinda like ‘epilogue’ songs after the ending of the anime/good ending or are songs made for the anime)

THE STORY

if you don't want to go through all the media yourself, here’s a video explaining the whole story by breadbox/david toth! he also has other really great kagepro videos

[a bit of an extra] a very common misconception about the story/mechanics: people do not have to die in pairs or with somebody else on 8/15 to enter the daze. i didn’t realize this myself until super recently

all in all, the kagerou project is a story about finding strength and support from the people around you, moving on to look towards the future, and overcoming trauma.

there’s definitely other people who have also made guides or summaries or videos that are much better and cover much more than i did, but i hope this was a decent introduction!

feel free to reach out and/or ask me anything! i'm sure there are also plenty of people who would be willing to help newcomers understand kagepro as well :]

happy kagerou day!

[suguri-shark]

Hi! I uh, didn't upload this after art class last night whoops LOL I'm doing it now though!! All of these images are pen only exercises! It's one of my favorites cause it helps like, you know where to put lines so you don't have to erase with a pencil as often and you're more confident or w/e

First is silly doodles then is from a prompt book I got lol

The first image was a doodle in art class lol, the second two I was trying to draw in the car while on a road trip and got frustrated because the road was like *really* bumpy haha

Now for the prompt book stuff!

The first two! Reflection, finished 5.17.24, and Asteroids, finished 5.18.24

The next is The Milky Way, also finished 5.18.24! It's slightly jank but I still like it

The next two are Comic Book Cover, finished 5.19.24, and Lotus Flower, finished 6.19.24! I enjoy Lotus Flower a lot it was fun to compose.

Looking Through a Keyhole is next, finished 8.14.24!

And finally, (for now) Tree of Life, finished 8.21.24! My first time drawing Xerneas, I think it came out alright enough lol

I wanna redo all of these digitally eventually, see how far I've come and stuff but I wanna fill out the entire book first! there's a total of 200 prompts and I plan on making the whole book Kiki so there'll be plenty more drawings in the future ehehehe.

I'm looking forward to learning and growing more with this! It's small but I'm still proud of my progress in the past months, gone are the days of undefined muzzle mouths lol ((not that any of these pictures show improvement on that ehehe :p ))

and finally, bonus doggo Florian sketch lol

Lighting was bad and you can see my phone's shadow it's fine don't @ me lol

[taexbankai]

I only want you

this is chapter 3! The other chapters are posted on my page

This chapter is a little short but the next one will be much longer!

————-

When i woke up the next day i felt like actual shit. I looked at my phone and read the time

“wow 1:36pm” i said to myself. I got up to use the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror

“so i feel like shit and look like shit… great” i said as i turned on the shower to wash off the rest of my birthday makeup that hadn’t came off from all my crying last night.

After my long hot shower i felt a little better. I looked back at my phone and seen i had a few messages

Shoko [1:42]: hey girl, how are you feeling?

Shoko [1:54]: text me whenever you feel like it okay?

i instantly responded to her thanking her for comforting me last night and letting her know that i was okay. I changed into some pjs, went and brushed my teeth and then combed out my hair. I walked over to my room door and opened it. I looked down at where i threw the necklace at satoru last night and saw it wasn’t there. ‘he must’ve really taken it’ i thought to myself. i walked downstairs and saw suguru on the couch eating popcorn and watching a movie by himself. He looked over to me and then back to the tv

“good afternoon sleeping beauty” he said

“haha very funny. is mom and dad back yet?” i asked him as i sat down next to him on the couch, grabbing a handful of his popcorn

“nah, they’re extending their trip for an extra 2 days. they asked how the party went and wanted to talk to you but i told them you were still sleep. So just call them later” he said. i nodded and grabbed some more of his popcorn. I began watching the movie with him, after a few minutes of silence he spoke again

“so…. do you want to talk about it?” he asked, still looking at the screen

“talk about what?” i asked, acting clueless. Suguru sighed and grabbed the remote, pausing the movie.

“why didn’t you tell me?” he said and turned to face me. I stayed silent though

“y/n, you know you can tell me anything. I could have told you he was seeing riko and that probably would have saved you some heartbreak” suguru said

“i didn’t want you to be mad at me” i said, tears starting to fall from my eyes again

“ i wouldn’t have gotten mad. You can’t control who you have feelings for. Now if you and satoru had started dating…that’s a different conversation for a different time” he said

“but i’ve been in love with him for so long, i didn’t even know how to tell anyone other than shoko” i said

“come here” suguru said as he put the popcorn down on the coffee table and gave me a hug.

“it’s okay, there’s plenty of other people out there baby sis okay? don’t get so stuck on just one” suguru said

“i told him i hated him, he probably hates me now” i said, crying even harder

“he doesn’t hate you y/n. he was really upset actually. he blamed himself, he felt like he led you on somehow” i broke the hug and looked up at suguru

“what?! he didn’t do anything, i fell in love with him myself. i was just upset” i said, feeling guilty for letting my emotions get the better of me last night

“you can tell him that yourself then, once you’re ready to talk to him again. He also gave me this and told me to give it to you” Suguru took the necklace satoru had given me out of his pocket and handed it to me.

“i’ll talk to him later today” i told suguru as i took the necklace from him.

it’s now 8pm and i’ve been pacing back and forth in my room trying to decide if i should call satoru or not.

“just do it” i said to myself. I sat down on my bed and hovered my finger over the call button. after 3 minutes of battling with myself i finally pressed the call button. the phone only rang two times before he answered the phone

“hello?” he said, his voice sounding really deep like he just woke up

“hey…did i wake you?” i asked feeling bad for waking him up

“no, everything okay though?” satoru said, clearly lying but i let it slide

“yeah… i just wanted to call and apologize to you about how i acted last night. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset at you just because you rejected me. I’m sorry” i said to him, biting my bottom lip nervous of what his response was going to be

“it’s okay don’t worry about it!” he said. there was a quick moment of silence before satoru spoke up again

“but.. if i did start dating riko, would you stop talking to me?”

i didn’t answer for a few seconds. My heart still felt heavy at the thought of him dating another girl but i can’t be mad at him because he’s happy with someone who’s not me

“no” was all i had to strength to say to him without crying again

“okay, i won’t ask anymore questions. If you would’ve said yes i don’t think i would’ve asked her out anymore” satoru said jokingly

“damn i should’ve said yes then” i said half joking but half serious as i laughed back with him.

“Seriously though y/n, you really do mean a lot to me. I would be sad if you had decided to not speak to me anymore. Suguru almost beat my ass last night after seeing how upset you were” satoru said softly over the phone

“i guess i shouldn’t have made such a big scene, sorry” i said as i got underneath my blanket

“its cool. As long as we’re good now , that’s all that matters” he responded

we spoke on the phone for almost two more hours before we finally hung up.

It almost felt like nothing ever happened and that we were back to normal

maybe i can really move on from him

——————————————

y’all bare with me PLEASE. i feel like there’s so much talking and not enough action so i’m going to get around to that…. TRUST. The next chapter will most likely be a time skip so we can get a move on the relationships and everything

[fuyupeach]

Unintentional (Not Really)

Miguel O’Hara x Gender Neutral! Reader

When on a mission between just Miguel and yourself, things go not as planned: not at all. Miguel thinks he might lose the reader, and finds he's more attached to you than he thought he was.

Leave it to this movie to break me out of my writing break, haha! Fastest I’ve ever written a one-shot this long. Enjoy! Also on AO3 here.

WC: 4,125k

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

Miguel was… well, to put it concisely, very interesting.

The very last thing you expected was to become a Spider, and even less than that did you expect there to be a hub of Spider people all in one place far in the future… to be honest, you were more surprised about there being a (very much needed) therapist Spider-Man and a kitchen-café-food-area-thing than you were to know that there were multiple dimensions in which each Spider dealt with. You were subtly appreciative of being in a universe where technology had had plenty of time to improve, granting you the luxury of fanfic. No one needed to know that was why you were able to understand the concept of Canon events so quickly.

You had just wrapped up a mission containing an anomaly, silently snacking on a banana you snagged on the way to Miguel’s office as he oh so slowly descended from his platform. He may be cute, but you were tempted to tamper with the damn thing if it meant you didn’t have to waste precious seconds waiting for him to speak. Who was he, Batman? He was also lucky the back view while you waited was so visually appealing… you made sure to keep your face calm, lips twitching to smile like a gremlin at your thoughts. 

You had been partnered with Mr. Spider-Punk himself. While you and Hobie got along swimmingly, you knew you would always be delegated debriefing duty when it came down to speaking to Miguel. It was both a perk and a massive disadvantage when you were tired and no longer felt the urge to speak for the rest of the day. Today was one of those days, though you will pat yourself on the back for not growing too impatient today as your thoughts traveled to your comfy bed, it’s soft sheets you recently washed, pillows fluffy and decadent—man, you were tired. You’d probably be hangry too if you hadn’t snagged that banana. It would have to do for now. You could swear you hear Hobie snicker behind you, as if he could read your thoughts. 

Glancing lazily over to the ever slow platform, you’re mildly surprised to see that Miguel is looking right back at you, eyes glowing a subtle red in the low lit room. You straighten out, swallowing your bite of banana before speaking.

“It almost feels like you came down quicker today,” you start, tone friendly. “Everything went as usual. Or, ideal, I suppose I should say.”

Miguel’s face was in its usual slight frown, the pout of his lips appealing to your eyes as always. “You closed a tear in a universe’s most frequently trafficked area and that’s the extent of your report?” 

You swallow another bite of banana, blinking. “I could go into detail on how I almost fell into said tear—in which I did thank Hobie for saving me—but I don’t think that’s very interesting or relevant. I’m quite tired, your majesty.”

Miguel sighs, fingers rising to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“I’ll read your report later, then.”

“Mhm.” You hum, eating the last section of your banana, chucking it in a nearby trash can. Perks of spider-sense, you didn’t even need to look. 

“Dismissed, then?” Hobie chimes in, rising from the table he snuck over to lay on somehow during your conversation.

“..Dismissed.” Miguel sighs again, already turning back towards his holographic monitors. Hobie needed no more words as he nodded his head at you in goodbye before beelining for the doors. 

“I keep telling you you’re going to have even more wrinkles on that pretty face of yours if you keep sighing and frowning all the time,” you call out before he can start rising back up. Miguel stills for a brief second, a quarter of his face hidden from your view as you smile slightly. “And get some rest while you’re at it. I know I will.”

“The fate of the multiverse—“

“Yes, yes, I know, O’Hara. Goodnight.” You wave over your shoulder as you depart, hand raising to your mouth to cover the yawn you let out.

Your relationship with Miguel was probably no different from everybody else. You had your moments where you’d feel you’d become amiable at the very least, given how often you had to speak to the guy. He made you nervous at first, being a terribly attractive person, but he was intense. There was an air around him that seemed to push others away—subconsciously, instinctively? Maybe both. It didn’t help that he seemed to align with your (questionable?) type of men. It was also hard to continue to be nervous when he had a baby crawling all over him whenever Peter B. swung by, and even less so when his serious moments were broken by his AI, Lyla. Miguel was surprisingly… cute. You could imagine the multitude of others that know him looking at you as if you had grown two heads and four arms. What’s not to like about fangs? Tall men? Very muscular, quiet, brooding, men? 

Hm. You were starting to see why they might look at you that way.

One thing you learned from your still short experience as a Spider, however, was the importance of time. You—well, thanks to Miguel, you kind of can—never know when the last time you will be able to speak or see someone is, and unfortunately one of the reasons why is death. It breaks your spirit just to reminisce on what could have been. 

As you became more comfortable around Miguel, you began to test the waters on what to say and how he’d react. Tomorrow is rarely ever guaranteed in your line of work, so if you had to push past a massive spring of nerves to flirt with your hot coworker you might never see again, then dammit that was what you were going to do. He wasn’t really one to react much outwardly to your small advances, but he wasn’t exactly protesting them completely either. One time when you were out for about a week due to your own universe’s conflicts, you could’ve sworn you felt the man staring at you longer than usual when you were silent upon your return. You were eating at the Spider-Cafeteria, and was surprised to see Miguel there. There was always a 30/50 chance you’d see him anywhere except his office, the odds rising to 50/50 on empanada days. There wasn’t really much to say, but as you got up to put your used dishes on the return rack, he spoke.

“No drink?”

Your eyes widen a bit as you turn back around to face him, pleasantly surprised. You smile. “Nah, but I guess I could grab some water. It’s not really something I think of when it comes to soup.” You chuckle for a few seconds.

“Here.” Almost like a magic trick, Miguel slides a small bottle of water towards you, silent as you blink back at him. Well, he is Spider-Man. You guess there could be other things to be more surprised by. 

“Oh. Thanks, Miguel.” Your smile widens a bit more as you take the bottle from him, your hand brushing against his (you totally did that on purpose). 

“I think he liiikess youuu.” 

The two of you jump at the sound of a new voice, eye contact breaking.

“Lyla.”

“I had to say something. This tension is drawing out a little too long for me–”

“LYLA–” Miguel swats at where she floats in between the two of you, large hands just a millimeter away from yourself. You briefly wonder how the size of said hands would compare to the size of your waist. Lyla appears in a different spot behind Miguel, smirking.

“Outta hereeee.” She winks at you before disappearing completely. You’re greeted with the delicious sight of Miguel’s shoulders and back sagging slightly, muscles contracting with his movement. You honestly found it pretty cute how despite how many times Lyla has no doubt teased this man to hell and back, he still reaches to grab her as if she has a physical form to do so. You keep your giggle to yourself, smile betraying your lack of laughter. You decide to give him a break today, turning back around to get rid of your dishes. 

“Thanks again for the water, Miguel.” You shake the bottle over your shoulder as you walk away, confidence and mirth fueling each step.

– – 

Well… damn. 

You’re actually pretty pissed that this rhino out of all the other ones you’ve seen and dealt with is giving you this much trouble. It was only yourself and Miguel on this mission, so it seemed pretty low difficulty. That difficulty was raised the moment he decided to plow through the city and onto one of its main bridges, surrounded by cars and–you guessed it–people. This Rhino was actually quite smart compared to the others. You heave a sigh as you swing around gathering another group of civilians to safety, narrowly avoiding a large chunk of building that flew your way as the Rhino surged forward elsewhere. That was Miguel’s problem until you completely cleared the area. Times like this made you appreciate that your universe wasn’t surrounded by skyscrapers like this one was. The more damage the Rhino did, the more nervous you subconsciously got. 

The fucker was pretty strong too. Every time either of your webs hit or tried to wrap around him, it’d almost immediately snap off, either because of the velocity of how fast he was running, or something he must’ve had added to his suit that would burn it off, leaving useless wisps in its wake. You both needed to find a solution, and fast. It would be hard to find a way to trap him in open terrain, and no point in really trapping him if he can just break through (so far) every damn thing. Your mind was scrambling to find solutions amidst the chaos, temples pulsing. You’d likely have to brute strength it out. You let out another sigh.

You were sure he didn’t need you to tell him, but it’d look like Miguel would need to get as close as he could in order to bite him, leaving the Rhino paralyzed and motionless for capture. Miguel was actually keeping up a great pace with him, it was the whole not killing innocent civilians thing that comes with being Spider-Man that was making things difficult; placed in a crowded city to boot. 

You’re grateful the next group you escort is the last, spider-sense not picking up anything else for now. You swing around two nearby twin towers, using the antennae sticking out from the top to catapult yourself to Miguel.

“It’s bite time!” You yell out, getting straight to the point as you swing to keep your momentum, right behind Miguel. “We’re gonna have to brute force our way out of this.”

“I know!” He responds, swinging in tandem. “I think we’re going to have to rely on all these now empty cars coming up. My signal.”

You look forward, the end of the bridge the only thing in sight. While the bridge wasn’t over a large body of water, you weren’t keen on falling off the side today if the plan falls through. The bridge transitions into a narrow tunnel, tight, but not impossible for the Rhino to fit through at all. You couldn’t see inside it, but there were a good amount of rocks outside it, connecting to a surrounding mountain.

You had worked with Miguel often enough that you didn’t need to verbally communicate when in battle, him turning to nod to you being all you needed before grabbing as many cars as you could and pulling them together with your webs to make obstacles for the Rhino in attempts to slow him down. You couldn’t help but laugh at the view you had from up above. This must be how scientists feel looking at their rodent subjects. 

You hit the ground for a second for more stability as you grab another car with both webs, using the leftover momentum to spin yourself and throw the car in the Rhino’s direction, a grin stretching across your features under your mask as it successfully hits. You flinch as it explodes. You forgot cars might do that. Hm. You were just glad it wasn’t you.

Miguel flies through the explosion smoke, using the distraction as a chance to get close as the Rhino staggers. He lands on his back, sinking his talons into his skin to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. 

The Rhino yells out, trying to shake Miguel off to no avail. Miguel stays low, avoiding the Rhino’s horns from touching him as you see his mask fade away. You couldn’t help the excitement that flared up in you no matter how hard you tried at the sight of Miguel’s fangs. You always thought they were pretty cool, not that he needed to know that. 

Just as Miguel goes in to bite, your senses jump to alert, spotting the reason a second too late.

This Rhino also had a self-destruct in its suit. Great.

You don’t even get to yell out a warning before light is all you see, your body flying back hard into something also oh-so-unluckily for you, harder. Yeah, you weren’t a fan of the big city at all. 

You blearily feel around for your surroundings, crying out at the sudden sharp pain that emerges from your abdomen. That can’t be good. 

You keep blinking until your vision clears, immediately searching for Miguel. You spot him not too far from the Rhino, also on the floor, but relatively unharmed. You sigh in relief. The Rhino also looked unharmed for the most part, to your dismay. He was however, now left without a suit, which meant less obstacles for Miguel. You weren’t too far from them either, but you definitely weren’t close. They were stopped right in front of the entrance to the tunnel, still gathering their bearings. You could tell the Rhino would get up and keep moving soon.

You attempt to move again, but the pain is too intense. You finally glance down to assess the damages, a sharp intake of breath leaving you motionless. 

You had collided with a nearby abandoned car, and were very much inside of it via a damaged windshield. Shards of glass surrounded and were inside you, some minor, some probably very bad. You reach up cautiously to your face, feeling parts of your mask torn as well. You take a breath to steady yourself and try not to panic. You were going to catch that fucking rhino whether it was on your last breath or not. It was extremely personal now.

You manage to maneuver yourself until your front is sticking out of the windshield, trying not to aggravate the pieces of glass that you deemed too dangerous to take out. You spot a nearby car and spray out your web, dragging yourself out on your back. You’d have to ignore the stinging for now. You see Miguel starting to get up as well, and call out to him.

“You have to go NOW, O’Hara!” You cough, body running cold at the taste of iron in your mouth. “Quick!”

His head snaps over at the sound of your voice, body stilling as the words he had ready to say die on his tongue. It takes a blink from you for him to land in front of you, on his knees as he cradles your head. 

“What,” He attempts to compose himself, and you can’t help but let out a small puff of a chuckle at the sight. You may have wanted him to hold you at some point, but definitely not like this. “What did you–what were you–” He takes another breath. Your heart aches at the slight tremor in his voice, and the feel of his talons digging slightly into your skin that he doesn’t seem to have noticed has come out. 

“I.. definitely didn’t plan on flying into a windshield today.” You attempt to joke. You hated seeing him so upset. You had never seen him like this before, and it was starting to scare you. You must look pretty on the brink of death. Your breathing starts to pick up at the thought. 

You catch movement in the corner of your eye. Oh, man.

Your eyes flick back to Miguel. “You need to move.” His face remains tight, expression at a loss for what to do. “Just do what we usually do: kick ass.” Your attempt to smirk is interrupted by another blood filled cough. 

“Hey.” You try again, your hand finding his. You grip it as tight as you can. “I’ll be fine. Take me out on a date after this and we’ll call it even. I don’t know what’s gonna happen after this, so make it a good one, okay?” 

Before he has the chance to respond back you move your head out of his lap, rolling over sharply to aim at the rocks surrounding the tunnel entrance and pull, the pain in your abdomen nearly causing you to black out. You fall forward back onto the ground, stomach down. Your body seems to make the choice to knock out for you this time, the sound of crashing rocks and the feeling of blood rushing out of you is the last thing you remember.

– – 

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Beep. Beep.

Bee–

Your eyes snap open, greeted with the sight of white walls and ceiling. 

You were alive, great! But damn did your body hurt. You felt the pinch of an IV in your arm as you shifted to get more comfortable, looking around. They must’ve had you on some pretty good pain killers if a small ache in your limbs was the extent of your pain thus far. Looking down, you see a hospital gown donned on your body, and bandages were wrapped practically everywhere. You hated that the first thought that came to your mind was wondering how you were going to pee. You don’t think there were any bandages down there…

You take a peek under your gown. 

All good.

Taking an even longer survey of the room, you realize you got lucky. No one else was there. Yet. You were aware of how close you were cutting it at the time. If Miguel’s face before you passed out was any indication, there was at least someone that was tasked with doing rounds on your location. You just hoped you hadn’t been out for too long.

Almost as if you had summoned said person, your senses alert you of someone’s presence a second before the door slowly opens, the door’s shadow growing larger before thinning out again. Lo and behold, it was an exhausted looking Miguel, his eyes unfocused. The dark circles under his eyes looked more pronounced, his lips pressed together in an even tighter line. Another wave of ache runs through your body at the sight. You couldn’t help but want to immediately alleviate the tension that lay thick in the air.

Miguel walks over to one of the sinks in the corner, setting something you couldn’t see down. He had closed the door softly, quietly, still unaware you were watching. You see his shoulders rise and fall as he lets out a sigh, turning on the faucet to splash his face with water. 

What time was it? A quick dart to the clock above the door alerts you to the fact that it’s 3am. 

There wasn’t much light throughout the room, but it wasn’t as if the two of you really needed it to see each other. You can almost see his face in clear detail as the man stills at the sight of your eyes, open, meeting his. 

You attempt to speak, but a sharp dry sensation attacks your throat, leaving you to cough instead.

You blink and Miguel is already at your bedside table, turning the low light lamp on as he pours you a cup of water from a nearby pitcher. His hands completely envelope the small glass, careful as he hands it to you. You take it gratefully, greedily enjoying the brief warmth his hands provide. 

“Thanks,” You finally say, not sure where to look. You truly didn’t know what the man was going to say. “I—“

“What you did was stupid.”

“Alright…” You muttered. Getting right to it, then. 

Miguel takes a seat in the only chair next to your bedside, eyes seemingly more red in the low light of the room. If they could burn through you you were sure they already would have. Tiny little ___ bits…

“Trust me when I tell you I didn’t go out with the goal to end up punted into a windshield.” You start, tone flat. “And excuse me for following your protocol: getting the mission done. I know it was stupid. I also knew you were going to keep me safe.” Your eyes flicker up to meet his.

“And if those were my last moments, yeah, it definitely would have sucked… That would’ve meant no date.” You truly didn’t know what else to say. What happened, happened. You can’t really say you regret it, either. Classic Spider antics.

Miguel runs a hand through his hair, brows furrowed in frustration as he mutters in Spanish under his breath. “What is this, some sort of game to you? This is serious.”

“And also part of the job.” You respond. You pause to really take him in now, curiosity driving forward in your mind. You were honestly surprised he was even here right now. And if the natural way he had maneuvered around the room was any indication, he must’ve been the one checking in on you. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but this was definitely nowhere near the usual lecture you’d receive for doing something he didn’t like. “What’s up with you?”

Looking at Miguel, you could almost see the turmoil going on inside his head. He opened his mouth before closing it again, lips pursed, jaw tight. If it weren’t for the tension in the air as you waited for him to speak, you would’ve said the man looked adorable, almost pouty. Now, though, it was almost like pulling nails out of concrete.

“When you… when I saw you on the ground like that.” Miguel’s tone was low, deep. It was his turn to look away now. “I felt… helpless. Weak. I haven’t felt that way since—well. I’m sure you can guess. I wasn’t expecting to feel that way. Wasn’t prepared to.” 

You were left speechless. 

“If I had gotten close faster, sunk my fangs into that fucker’s throat… I kept thinking, over and over again.” It was as if the floodgates had opened, Miguel getting any and everything he could on his mind out now. “I froze. And when you pulled away, fell to the ground, it felt like I was running with her in my arms again. Then she was gone. You were gone.”

“Miguel…”

“So, yeah.” His eyes meet yours once more, heavy. You wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. If he was going to bear his heart to you in this way, you were going to too.

“I… never really was joking, you know.” You start playing with the blanket on your lap. “Pretty sure you already guessed that.” You chuckle softly.

“I can’t ever know what it’s like to lose something like that, but I want you to know I am here for you. I really just wanted to see how you felt about me; really didn’t have much to lose... I’m not really sure what to do now—“

Your words are cut off by the sensation of lips meeting yours, warm yet hot at the same time. Your hands grip the sides of Miguel’s hoodie, the IV in your arm preventing you from reaching higher. You feel Miguel’s hands hold your head in place as his lips continue to tangle desperately with yours. His fangs brush against your bottom lip and you shiver. 

When you part, you’re almost gasping for air, stomach tingling. Woah.

“If you’ll have me, I promise you I won’t let go.” You whisper, earnest.

Miguel looks surprised as you say this, like he wasn’t the one to initiate your heart to heart moment. His thumbs caress your cheekbones as he moves close once more. 

“Yo también,” He pecks your lips. “mi cariño.”

You rest your foreheads against each other, basking in the silence and comfort of the moment. A beat passes.

“How do you feel about bowling?”

[coltrainbat]

Oh oh! What about Chris Evans finds out that he is going to be a dad for the first time!!!!!

Bubba

A/N: Dad Chris kills me. Enjoy 💕☘️

You hand fell to your mouth in a gasp as you eyed the little blue line on the stick in front of you. Tears well in your eyes. You were pregnant. 

Chris and you had been trying for months, it was a lot of good sex but also a lot of “maybe next month.” In anticipation of the red line. You and Chris were looking into IVF and were going to enquire about it next month. No matter what it took, you both were going to make sure you had the first of many babies. 

It couldn’t have come at a better time, with Chris due to arrive home from filming tomorrow night and you knew the perfect way to tell him.

“Honey I’m home.” He sung out as you heard the sound of a roller bag and jangling keys. 

You jumped from your seat in the living, Dodger, on your lap, tail wagging with excitement. 

Dodger hadn’t left your side since Chris left, 2 weeks ago. Sure, he was always cuddly and cute, but he wouldn’t stop following you around and would whine whenever you’d leave the house or go to the bathroom. Something told you; he knew even before you did. 

You pulled out the plastic wrapped test from behind you. 

“Hold, good boy.” The pup delicately grabbed the stick in his mouth. 

“Dodger stays, ok honey?” You whispered to the pup. Making your way out to the entryway to meet Chris. 

“There’s my girl.” Chris pulled you into a dramatic kiss, your back arching to give him more access to your mouth.

“How you feeling?”

“Pretty good, you?”

“Happy to be home so I can snuggle my favourite girl and-.”

His head shot up in curiosity, he pinged the lack of puppy excitement, no dog nails clacking on the floorboards. 

“Dodger… where are you buddy?”

With the sound of his dad’s voice booming through the house, Dodger came bulldozing into the foyer.

“Hey buddy, hey hey! I’m home.” Chris let you go, crouching down to meet his furry friend.

“Hey what you got there? That a new toy?” Chris grabbed the plastic from the dog’s mouth, unwrapping its tight seal to figure out what the hell was underneath.

“What the hell is this, Y/N, did you-“  

You could see the gears in his head turning as he registered the stick in front of him, blue cap and white long body, he had seen one of these before, plenty of times in the last month but one thing made this particular test different. Two sharp red lines. 

“No way.” He whispered.

“No fucking way.” You stood off to the side, hands nervously fidgeting as Dodger, unaware of what was going on, thrashed his head between the two of you wondering if he had done a good job.

Chris finally looked up to face you, eyes already becoming red and watery at the news.

“You’re pregnant.”

“Well, yes, but I haven’t gone to the doctors yet but I did it yesterday and I didn’t want- OMG.” Not letting you finish, Chris pulled you into him, lifting you off the ground.

“We are gonna be parents! We are gonna be parents! We are gonna be parents!” He jumped around with you in his arms ecstatic at the news. 

Promptly falling out of his haze of excitement into dad mode;

“Oh my god! Wait you’re pregnant sorry… sorry… sorry little bean, you, ok? That was, ok? Do you need to sit down? Was I too rough?” His arms falling softly to your waist, inching towards your soft stomach, eyes filled with concern.

“I’m ok haha I’m only a couple of weeks according to the test.”

Pulling you into his arms, his hand falling to stroke your hair. 

“Jesus, I knew you looked more beautiful than when I last saw you but wow you’ve just made me the happiest guy in the world Y/N, I’m going to be a dad… finally.” 

He choked up at the final statement, all he had ever wanted was right in his arms at this very moment and he didn’t know whether to cry from joy or continue jumping from excitement. 

You cranked your head up to look at him, smiling with glee at his reaction. “I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone but you.” You said, earnestly. 

“You. Are going to be an amazing mom.” He beamed at you, seriousness laced in his voice, believing every word he spoke. 

“Thanks baby… Doctor’s appointment is Friday, it’s not an ultrasound just a test to confirm.”

“I still want to go. Every appointment, baby shop, birthing class, private doula… whatever you need from this moment on I will be there.” 

“I don’t think I could do it without you there, I’m beside myself with nerves.”

“You’ll be a natural… have you told ya ma?”

“No, you’re the first person to know… besides Dodger, little bubbas hasn’t stop following me around.”

“Good boy, keeping bubba safe.” Dodger beamed at the praise he so desperately needed from his master.

“Do you want to tell people yet or wait? Up to you honey.” Chris stroked your arm, lovingly. 

You couldn’t help but appreciate how selfless he was about it all. You know the next 9 months that if you said jump, he’d say how high.

“I kinda want to just stay in this little bubble for a bit… all 4 of us you know? To be sure.”

“Sounds perfect my dear.” He planted a kiss on your lips, then crouched down.

“I love you already.” He whispered on your clothed belly, placing a delicate kiss as you ran your hands through his hair.