#show me how he losses control of his mask when will is around!

[animangalover-writes]

I love those brief moments we get where we get to see hannibal just be human. Like they're such simple scenes but I adore it.

[vixstarria]

A night at the inn (part 2)

Smut galore!

Part 1 here - it's the build-up to this, but not required reading if you're just after some smut

Astarion x Tav x Halsin, Astarion x F!Reader x Halsin

18+, smut, threesome, porn no plot, dirty talk, oral sex, PIV, various kinks in passing, soft dom Astarion, Astarion being a little shit

Approx. 2,700 words (what the hell, how did that happen)

AO3

“Is it company or privacy you desire?” 

You and Astarion, who had been lying on top of you, one of your legs wrapped around his hips, turned your heads towards the druid, who paused in the doorway.  

Astarion turned back to you to give you a wicked look, as though to say it was your call, before untangling himself from you, with a final slow teasing roll of his hips.    

“It seems... Astarion desires a show…" You followed him with your gaze as he got up to pour himself more wine, searching for any signs of apprehension or anything that resembled a slipping mask. You saw no such thing. “...And I desire to indulge him,” you added, turning to look at the druid.  

“Only a show?” Halsin frowned, but stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. “I am more than happy to accommodate that, only I thought you of all people would like to take part,” he added, looking at Astarion.  

“It’s... complicated,” said Astarion, sliding back onto the bed and letting you lean back against him. “Darling, would you care to explain our current arrangement to our friend?” he asked, trailing a finger down your neck, sending a tinging shiver down your spine.  

“Astarion has been taking a break from anything below the waist, for himself...” 

“Say no more, I understand,” said Halsin.  

Astarion raised his glass and nodded towards Halsin, glad to not need to explain himself any further, before taking a sip.  

"And you?” Halsin asked, his voice a low and sensual rumble, his eyes piercing through you. Now that the smaller details were out of the way, you suddenly realised just what you had gotten yourself into, and you found yourself at a rare loss for words.  

You’ve done this before, but never in such fine company. And never with the added complication of having to take anyone’s feelings into consideration. 

Astarion’s fingers slid further down, below your collarbone, and slipped beneath the fabric of your blouse, circling down to one of your breasts. 

“You are not taking any ‘breaks'?” Halsin continued, approaching the bed, breaking eye contact briefly to follow the motions of Astarion's hand, as he started to roll and pinch one of your nipples, before looking back into your eyes, quizzically.  

You'd hardly started, and already you felt utterly exposed, a heat growing beneath your stomach. You were completely overwhelmed. Articulating anything was impossible.  

“Darling..?” Astarion said, softly, when you did not reply. “Are you with us?” 

“No breaks, only insatiable cravings,” you managed, wetting your lips. You tilted your head back to look into Astarion’s wine-coloured eyes. “I think I need you to take control,” you murmured. 

“Oh? Getting timid all of a sudden?” he set his wine down to brush your lower lip with his thumb. “You want me to tell him how to scratch your itch? Make sure he does it right?”   

“I trust you,” you nodded, swallowing.  

Astarion breathed a quick soundless laugh and gave you a brief but tender kiss.  

“Very well...” he lifted his gaze to regard Halsin. “Her sweet lips are mine, but you can have free reign over the rest of her, unless she says otherwise,” said Astarion. “My love you will speak up if there is anything you don’t enjoy?” he asked, lifting your chin to make you look at him. “I can’t make every decision for you, pet.”  

You nodded. Halsin took it as a cue to finally break the distance between you. He started by lifting your leg to unlace your boots. 

“What do you want to see?” he asked Astarion. 

“Hmm,” he deliberated. “I think... No, I know she wants to be fucked senseless. Don’t you, pet? Tell us.” he urged with a devilish grin, his eyes still locked on yours, as you managed a weak ‘mmhmm’. “Let’s see that.”   

Halsin pulled off your boots and before you knew what was happening, one of your feet was in his mouth. You gasped as you felt his tongue swirling between your toes. 

“I knew he was absolutely feral!” laughed Astarion. “No no, let him do it,” he added as you squirmed. “But you are completely overdressed for all this, love.”  

Astarion pulled your blouse off over your head, exposing your breasts, and began to undo the lacing on your pants. Halsin attempted to pull them off but they got stuck around your knees. For the first time since you've met him, you saw exasperation on the druid's face, as he struggled. 

“I would outlaw clothing if I could,” he growled.  

This seemed to amuse Astarion to no end, as he fell back onto the bed, pulling you with him. You somehow ended up being flipped onto your stomach and into Astarion's arms by Halsin, in his fight with your trousers. You giggled as he finally managed to pull them off.  

”Are all your dirty dreams coming true, darling?” Astarion whispered to you, kissing your neck below your ear. 

You felt Halsin's bulk lower himself onto you, holding himself up over you and Astarion with his arms to either of your sides. He left hot, open-mouthed kisses down your back, starting from the opposite side of your neck. You were caught between the coolness of Astarion's skin and the heat that was radiating from Halsin's body.  

“This is impossible,” Halsin groaned as he realised that you were still in your smallclothes. Having run out of patience he resorted to simply tearing them off you in a swift and deliberate motion.  

You let out an involuntary squeal as Astarion wedged a knee between your legs and used it to spread them apart for the druid. 

“Be a good girl now and don't cause any more trouble,” he purred. You hummed your assent and lifted your hips up, your face buried in Astarion's neck. 

Halsin's tongue plunged into you, lapping up your wetness, making you let out a moan.  

Astarion tangled his fingers into your hair at the back of your head, near the roots, and pulled on it to lift your head up. 

“I want to see your face while his tongue is in you,” he whispered. “He’s being good to you, isn’t he?” You held Astarion's gaze as Halsin continued to lick between your legs. You tried and failed to stifle another moan and arched your back further, as he dipped lower to tease your clit with his tongue. Astarion moved his hand to caress your face, before parting your lips with his thumb. You caught it in your mouth. “Yes, I can tell he is... But you want more, don’t you?” You sucked on his thumb and nodded with a whimper, looking into his eyes. “Don’t be shy... Tell us what you want...” You grazed Astarion's thumb with your teeth and giggled, shaking your head. You knew he wouldn’t let it slide though.  

“You brat,” he smiled, his eyes narrowing, before looking past your shoulder and raising his voice. “Don’t give her anything unless she asks for it, nicely. In fact, you should stop what you’re doing now.”  

To your dismay, the druid lifted his head from you. 

“It would be my pleasure to help teach her manners,” he said. He stroked your wet slit with his fingers in place of his tongue, but it was only a tease that made you crave more.  

“Beg him,” Astarion said, grinning, pulling your hair to turn your head sideways, so you could take in a view of the druid over your shoulder. 

You shot daggers at Astarion with your eyes. You were glad he was enjoying himself so much, but this man, who had been flicking his tongue over your asshole just seconds prior, was supposed to adhere to your authority at tomorrow morning’s itinerary discussion meeting.   

“Please...” you managed.  

“Please what?” smirked Astarion.  

“I may have a hunch about what she wants,” said Halsin, slipping a single finger in, shallowly, just one phalange deep, and sliding it in and out of you, teasingly. “Is this it?” 

“No, no, she needs to say it herself,” interjected Astarion.  

“I want more...” you moaned. 

“More?” Halsin slipped a second finger in, keeping it agonisingly shallow. 

“Your cock! I want your cock deep in me... Please...” you were too frustrated to care anymore.  

“Good girl...” purred Astarion. “I’m going to remember this, you know,” he added with a smirk. “Next time you get too sassy with me, I’ll just recall our fearless leader begging for dick.” 

“Listen here, you-” you started, exasperated, but were cut off by him pulling you into a deep kiss. He trailed his hand down your stomach until his fingers reached your slit, dipping in. You moaned into his mouth as he began to gently roll your swollen clit between his fingers the way he knew you liked.  

You heard Halsin discarding his own clothes behind you, and were about to turn to look back, but Astarion held your chin.  

“Ah-ah, no peeking! Let’s keep it a surprise.” He looked over your shoulder. “A very... big... surprise.” 

You felt Halsin start to work his way in with his cock, in slow, rolling thrusts, gradually filling you, inch by inch. You were completely soaked, and stretched to accommodate him, but gods he felt huge. Exactly as big as you would expect by looking at the sheer size of the druid himself. 

You whimpered as he filled you completely and began his deliberate, rhythmic thrusts.  

“More than what you’d bargained for, darling?” Astarion whispered in your ear, continuing to rub your clit. “But you’re taking it so well, my good girl...” All you could do was whimper and moan, as he continued to stroke you and whisper obscenities to you. “That huge cock, all for you...” 

“She’s starting to quiver around me already,” groaned Halsin.  

“Is she now?” Astarion removing his fingers from your clit. “Do we need to talk about manners again? You don’t want to be rude to our friend by coming so soon and all by yourself, do you?”  

“I’ll be good, just don’t stop, please” you whimpered. You could not handle another interruption. 

“You have some catching up to do,” Astarion directed at Halsin.  

Halsin’s thrusts sped up to an infernal pace, as Astarion pulled on your hair again to lick and nip at your exposed neck, running his tongue over your fresh puncture wounds, where it still felt so sweet for you.  

“I’ll be generous, I know how much you want it,” Astarion rasped in your ear. “I want it too.” 

He resumed rubbing circles around your clit and you found yourself falling to pieces, a mewling mess. 

“Don’t get shy now... That’s it... Let us hear how much you like it,” Astarion continued, hoarsely. 

You felt the first ripples of your climax coming on, your moans mounting louder and deeper with each wave.  

“Fuck her through her orgasm. She likes that,” Astarion threw over your shoulder.  

Halsin’s thrusts somehow got even harder then, and you screamed into Astarion’s neck as your pleasure completely overtook you. The sound of skin slapping on skin had already been loud enough to hear halfway across the inn, if anyone in the adjacent rooms had been sleeping through that, they were awake now.  

Halsin’s penis slipped out of you and you collapsed, melting into Astarion’s embrace, no longer able to keep yourself up.  

“Still enjoying yourself, my sweet?” he whispered only loud enough for you to hear. “Do you want more?” 

“Gods, yes,” you answered.  

“We’re not done yet,” he said louder, with a grin, as Halsin pulled you off the vampire by your waist, flipping you onto your back on the bed.

You spread your legs as Halsin settled between them, sitting up. He couldn’t have been far himself, as he entered you again, with quick, needful thrusts, lifting one of your legs onto his shoulder. Your breasts bounced with every thrust, and you raised your hands to hold them, pinching your own nipples. 

“What a sight you are...” purred Astarion, off to your side. “Let us enjoy the view better.”  

You let go of your breasts and raised yourself on your elbows, eager to enjoy a view yourself as you watched Halsin’s cock ram you, slick with your wetness.  

Suddenly you were distracted by Astarion unlacing his pants to release his pulsing cock. Unable to contain his need any longer, he began to stroke himself. You couldn’t look away. 

“Can I have it in my mouth..? Please..?” you implored.  

There had to be a delicate balance to your pleading.  

You knew he didn’t want to feel pressured. Not even by your need and desperation.  

You also knew how he wanted to be wanted. He loved to hear you beg. He revelled in it. In the knowledge that he had such a grasp on your arousal. He would often tease you relentlessly. Usually, he would allow you to find your release eventually, whether with his fingers or tongue, or just from grinding against him. A few times, you pleasured yourself for him, while he watched. But sometimes, it was just a ‘no’ despite the teasing he had initiated himself. Being in control was another thing he revelled in.  

“Desperate, are we?” he breathed. 

“Astarion, please... Anything... Just a taste.” 

He lifted your chin, angling your face toward him. 

“Just the tip, with your tongue. I’ll take all your treats away if you get too greedy.” 

You hadn’t done this since before your talk about wanting something real together. Your heart just about leapt into your throat.  

He continued to stroke himself as you swirled your tongue around the swollen head of his penis, licking up his precum, looking into his eyes.

“I’ve missed this too, my sweet” he murmured as he watched you through his eyelashes, his voice thick. 

Halsin was being a complete menace, rubbing your clit and licking the arch of your foot, and you started to get carried away, close to climaxing again, and wrapped your mouth around the tip of Astarion’s cock. 

“Ah-ah! Make sure she behaves,” Astarion said to Halsin. 

Halsin pinched your clit, just enough to make you jump and distract you. You moaned and continued with just your tongue, as Halsin pounded into you.  

“Shall I go easy on her?” Halsin asked.  

“Absolutely not,” said Astarion. “Just a little longer, love. You can hold out longer for me, can’t you?” he asked you, stroking your cheek with his hand.   

This was becoming impossible. Between Halsin’s incessant thrusts and stroking of your clit, and your added arousal from finally being able to taste Astarion, you were losing your mind. But you did not want to come before he did.  

“I can’t!” you gasped between strokes with your tongue. “I can’t...’ 

Halsin took some mercy on you then, pausing the circles he had been drawing around your clit, as everything else continued. 

Astarion was breathing harder, stroking himself faster.  

“You can come for us now... Come for me...” he rasped. 

Two more firm strokes of Halsin’s thumb, and you came undone again, your walls clenching around Halsin, your legs shaking, just as Astarion’s cum filled your mouth, some of it spilling and leaking down your chin and the corner of your mouth. You were completely spent, as you swallowed what you could. You barely even registered Halsin pulling out his cock to spill his own seed all over your chest and stomach. 

Astarion knelt down next to you, trying to regain his breath, and pressed his forehead against yours briefly, before drawing you into a kiss, tasting himself on your tongue. You felt his lips breaking into a smile as you kissed.  

A short while later you lounged on the bed, your head on Astarion’s stomach as he played with your hair, your legs thrown across Halsin’s lap. Halsin was fiddling with his herbs and pipes again.  

“Care for more catnip?” he asked Astarion. 

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?” Astarion rolled his eyes. “But yes. ...Only to prove that it’s not going to do anything this time!” 

Sure enough, a minute later Astarion once again sat with a ditsy expression, on the verge of breaking out into inane giggling. 

“Gods, I’m not sure I can handle him like this again,” you sighed, shooting Halsin a reproachful look. 

“This is a beautiful, glorious thing - he is embracing the opportunity to get reacquainted with nature,” the druid shrugged. 

“Tell us about the bear you fucked again,” Astarion tittered.  

~~~

Part 3

AO3

Hope you enjoyed, check out my other work

[crayons-and-glitter-glue]

I think about Sun and Moon's original versions a LOT, and I don't get why people say they're not expressive!

Or perhaps, I do, and I just wanna ramble. Anyways! Big ol warning for lots of talking, some fursuit gifs and analyzation of body movement.

So, they have flat, immobile faceplates, right? Technically, yes!some argue that this makes them immediately inert and expressionless and opt to enhance their expressions. And this is a-okay! Do what you like!

But as someone who used to be a costumer, and wears a fursuit on occasion,

(Sorry, I love this gif so much)

BUT! When in a mascot costume, fursuit, or any other costume with a mask over one's face, the performer has to learn how to move in order to portray the emotions necessary for character engagement with the audience! Whether it's exaggerated head bobs, using your hands to talk, or making everything a bit of a spectacle, even the way you tilt your FACE can affect how you look.

Even MUPPETS do this with their limited range of expression. And we can easily draw those conclusions of how the boys were programmed to act in canon!

Take Sun's default animation in the daycare, just standing there.

It's very obvious here what he's trying to portray, and who his programmed audience is- little children! When costuming around little kids, you wanna use big gestures, and get on their level because you can seem HUGE AND SCARY to them! You wanna get down towards the ground, make big sweeping cartoon motions, and make sure all your movements are ROUNDED- not jabbing, sharp, or sudden- so that the kid isn't ever surprised, but rather delighted by your performance as a costumer. I'll show you an example by the amazing performer, Temba the Bat! (Made by Toxicoon, I believe.)

Big sweeping motions, slow without being too spooky, and generally friendly motions while swaying the head! Looks kinda similar right?

Another point is, though, these exaggerated motions don't really... turn off when feeling other things. Sun and Moon don't have a customer service mode, and that's WILD to me that their programming requires them to act like this all the time. Exhibit B: Sun's pain in the transformation scene.

He's making such exaggerated motions and movements to INDICATE he is in pain or holding something back. He's gripping his face like something is trying to come out of it, and even dramatically falls backwards to indicate a loss of control in his body. Whether the way the fall looks so cartoonist was intentionally programmed in, I couldn't tell you.

And then... there's Moon.

This is SO cartoon villain sequel, isn't it? The hands tapping delicately on the surface, the exaggerated head tilt, all of it is so wildly exaggerated in such a smooth way to let you know "Ah! I'm in danger! Great!"

And yet... he still is low to the ground. Still in that pose of going after someone SMALL. Performing for someone small. His evilness is almost completely exaggerated and, dare I say, fabricated by his programming. Of course, the virus probably had something to do with it but LIKE! Look at that range of motion!

Idk what the point of all this is, I just wanna say: it's totally understandable to make the boys super duper expressive in the artistic, flat 2d styles i see a lot!

But man I do hope someone draws them biblically accurate while expressing something else because that would be hilarious to see Sun throwing a temper tantrum by banging his fists on the ground and flailing while his face is just

:D

[kckt88]

Perzys se ānogar II

Summary:

In the aftemath of Rooks Rest, Aemond arrives on Dragonstone to bend the knee but tensions soon erupt when Vaeda stands against her family to defend her husbands life.

Warnings - Angst, Drama, Langauage, Disagreements, Vulnerability, Confessions, Death Threats, Imprisonment, Physical Violence, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Smut, Oral Sex (M & F Recieving), P in V, Breeding Kink, Referenced Character Death,

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C NIECE

Perzys se ānogar - Fire and Blood.

Word Count: 7800

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8

"Aemond Targaryen, you stand before me charged with high treason and murder. How do you plead?" said Rhaenyra, her voice firm and commanding.

Aemond lifted his head, meeting Rhaenyra's gaze. "Guilty, Your Grace-" he replied, his voice steady but laced with sorrow.

Rhaenyra's eyes narrowed slightly as she leaned forward. "Do you have anything to say in your defence?"

Aemond took a deep breath, his eyes flickering to Vaeda for a moment before returning to Rhaenyra. "There is nothing I can say to excuse my treason. I helped to steal our father’s throne-as for what happened to Luke-” His voice broke slightly, but he continued, "-It was an accident. I never meant to kill him, I lost control and I-I’m sorry."

“Lost control?” asked Rhaenyra.

“All I wanted was his eye-in payment for the one that he took from me, but he refused. After he left, I chased after him. I just wanted to scare him, to make him feel as helpless as he made me feel that night on Driftmark. I lost sight of him and was about to turn back when Arrax attacked Vhagar, I could hear Luke shouting, but Arrax wouldn’t listen. Vhagar was angry and she lashed out-I tried to stop her but she wouldn’t listen”

The room fell silent, the weight of his confession hanging heavy in the air. Vaeda's eyes were filled with a mixture of sorrow and hope, her hands clenched at her sides. Jace's face was a mask of barely controlled anger, while Baela, Rhaenys, and Corlys watched with guarded expressions.

Rhaenyra's gaze bore into Aemond, assessing him. "You claim it was an accident," she said slowly, "-Yet my son is dead, and your actions have plunged this realm into chaos and war."

Aemond nodded, his expression pained. "I know that, and I am prepared to face the consequences of my actions. But I ask, Your Grace, to consider my regret and my willingness to stand here before you, confessing my guilt."

Rhaenyra's eyes flickered to Vaeda, who stepped forward, her voice steady. "Mother, Aemond is willing to bend the knee, to swear his loyalty to you and to your cause. He came here knowing the risk, but he did so because he wanted to make things right."

Rhaenyra's gaze softened slightly as she looked at her daughter, then back at Aemond. The tension in the room was palpable as everyone awaited her decision.

Finally, she spoke. "-You have confessed to your crimes and expressed your regret and while I cannot bring back my son, I can choose to show mercy. Your fate will be decided by myself and my counsel, until then you will be held as my prisoner-take him to the cells."

As the guards moved to take Aemond away, Vaeda watched, her heart heavy. The sound of the chains echoed around the throne room, a haunting melody of loss and regret. Aemond's eye found hers one last time, and he whispered, "Avy jorrāelan ābrazȳrys" (I love you, wife).

Once Aemond had disappeared and the doors were firmly shut, Rhaenyra turned her attention to Vaeda. "What exactly happened at Rook's Rest?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing.

Vaeda took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Lord Staunton was under siege by the Greens' forces, led by Criston Cole. I had Cannibal burn as many of them as I could. But then Aegon arrived with Sunfyre, and we engaged each other in aerial combat."

The council members exchanged concerned glances, the tension in the room palpable.

Vaeda continued, "Then Aemond arrived with Vhagar, and he directed her towards Aegon and attacked him."

Gasps of shock rippled through the council. Rhaenyra's eyes widened in disbelief. "Aemond attacked his own brother?"

Vaeda nodded. "Yes, Sunfyre fell from the sky and whilst I could have fled, I knew that getting rid of Vhagar was a chance I could not pass up. So, I had Cannibal attack. The two dragons fought and were evenly matched. They crashed into the ground, and I was thrown from the saddle."

Rhaenyra, still seated on her rock-carved throne, leaned forward. "Then what happened?" she asked, her voice firm but laced with curiosity.

Vaeda took a deep breath before continuing. "I regained consciousness and discovered Aemond injured. I could have left him to die, but I didn't."

Jace scoffed loudly, "You should have left him to die."

Rhaenyra shot him a silencing glare. "Continue-"

"I saved Aemond's life," Vaeda said. "We talked—he told me what happened that night in the skies above Storm's End, and why he attacked Aegon. He also killed Cole to protect me."

Jace's eyes narrowed. "That's not all he did, given the love bite on your neck."

Vaeda blushed deeply, but she held her ground. She turned back to her mother, who shook her head in disbelief. Jace wasn't finished, though, his anger bubbling over. "So Aemond tries to kill his own brother, then sets his dragon upon his own wife, and she not only saves his life but fucks him in the forest like some animal."

"It wasn't like that," Vaeda protested, her voice rising. "Aemond thought that by coming here, he would be executed. We thought it might be the last time-”

“Vaeda-” muttered Rhaenyra, her voice soft yet firm.

“Muña kostilus, ziry emagon issa prūmia, ziry iksos issa idañnykeā perzys” (Mother please, he has my heart, he is my twin flame).

“Jāhor bona lua zirȳla pazavor?” asked Rhaenyra (Will that keep him loyal).

“Ziry jāhor, nyke kivio” exclaimed Vaeda (It will, I promise).

Jace sniggered angrily, but Baela elbowed him in the ribs, silencing him.

Rhaenyra looked at her daughter with a mix of emotions. "Vaeda, your loyalty to Aemond complicates things. His actions have caused great pain to our family, and yet you speak on his behalf."

Vaeda's eyes welled with tears. "Mother, I know what he has done is unforgivable, but he is still my husband and the father of my child. He came here to make things right. He deserves a chance to atone."

Rhaenyra sighed deeply, the weight of her crown pressing heavily on her. "Vaeda, this war has torn us apart, and every decision we make carries immense consequences. Aemond must remain in the cells until we decide his fate. But I will consider what you’ve said”

Vaeda nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Thank you, Mother."

Rhaenyra looked to her council. "We will meet in the council chambers on the morrow to discuss our next steps. Vaeda, you may return to your chambers and bathe-I will send Maester Gerardys to check on your injuries”

Freshly bathed, Vaeda sat quietly in her chambers as Maester Gerardys examined her injuries. Rhaegar sat on a blanket at her feet, playing with his toys.

Gerardys’ experienced hands moved carefully over her bruised ribs, noting the few minor scrapes.

"You've a small but deep wound on your forehead, Princess," Gerardys said gently, his fingers probing the area with care. "It will require stitches; I can prescribe milk of-"

"-No" replied Vaeda, her voice steady despite the pain.

"As you wish." Gerardys prepared his needle and thread, his movements precise and practiced. He began stitching the wound, his touch delicate yet firm. Vaeda winced but bore the pain silently, her gaze fixed on a distant point, the sounds of Rhaegar happily playing filtered through the air.

As he worked, Gerardys noticed the love bites on her neck. He paused briefly, then continued stitching. "Princess, do you require moon tea?" he asked, his tone respectful.

"No, thank you," Vaeda replied softly as she placed a hand on her stomach.

After a moment of silence, Vaeda's thoughts spilled forth. "Do you think I'm crazy for defending Aemond after everything he's done?"

Gerardys paused in his work, meeting her eyes with a kind and thoughtful expression. "Princess, I have known you since you were a small child. Not once have I ever thought you were crazy. Stubborn, yes, but never crazy."

His words brought a small, grateful smile to her lips. He finished stitching the wound and carefully tied off the thread, ensuring the stitches were secure. "There, all done," he said, stepping back to admire his work. "Do you require anything else?"

Vaeda shook her head. "No, thank you".

He nodded and gathered his supplies. "Rest well, Princess. Call on me if you need anything."

As Gerardys left the room, Vaeda leaned back in her chair watching as Rhaegar still played contentedly with his toys on the floor, his silver hair shimmering in the candlelight.

Suddenly, a distant, deep grumbling roar echoed through the air, causing Rhaegar to look up, his bright eyes wide with recognition. "Vhagar," he said, pointing towards the window.

Vaeda nodded, her smile bittersweet. "Yes, darling."

Rhaegar's face lit up with excitement. "Daddy here?" he asked eagerly.

Vaeda took a deep breath, her heart heavy. "Yes, he is."

"I want see daddy," Rhaegar said, pulling himself to his feet. He toddled towards the door; his small hands outstretched. "Daddy!"

“Rhaegar-we can’t” whispered Vaeda as she quickly scooped him up, holding him close as he buried his face in her neck.

"Pease, mummy—want see daddy," pleaded Rhaegar, his voice muffled and tearful.

Vaeda stroked his silver hair, her resolve wavering. "Alright, my sweet. I will take you to see your daddy, but you must be very quiet. Can you do that for me?"

Rhaegar sniffled but nodded, his tiny hands clutching his stuffed dragon teddy tightly. "Yes, mummy. Quiet."

With a deep breath, Vaeda adjusted Rhaegar in her arms and headed out the door. She moved silently through the dimly lit corridors of Dragonstone, her heart pounding with each step. The castle was eerily quiet, the shadows long and foreboding.

Vaeda held Rhaegar close as she descended the winding staircase towards the cells. The stone walls emitting a soft warmth as she passed.

Rhaegar clung to her, his small fingers gripping the fabric of her dress. His amethyst eyes looked around curiously, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with a mix of wonder and apprehension.

As they approached the cell, Vaeda saw two guards standing watch. She walked towards them, her heart pounding. The guards stepped forward, blocking her path.

"You are not allowed to be here by order of the Queen," one of them said sternly.

Vaeda took a deep breath, her eyes pleading. "Please, just for a few minutes. Rhaegar wants to see his father."

The guards exchanged uncertain glances, clearly torn between their orders and the heartfelt request. After a moment, one of them spoke. "You have five minutes. No more."

Vaeda thanked them with a relieved nod as they unlocked the heavy door and moved aside. She stepped into the dimly lit cell, her heart aching at the sight before her.

Aemond was chained to the wall, his face turned towards the small window, the faint light casting shadows across his sharp features.

"Daddy!" Rhaegar's voice broke the silence, filled with pure joy.

Aemond turned at the sound, a smile breaking across his weary face. "Byka zaldrīzes" he breathed; his voice choked with emotion (Little dragon).

Vaeda set Rhaegar down, and the little boy ran to his father, throwing his small arms around Aemond's neck as best as he could.

"Miss you, Daddy," he said, his voice muffled against Aemond's tunic.

Aemond struggled against the chains, the metal clinking as he tried to move his arms. But the chains were too short, preventing him from fully embracing his son.

"I miss you too" he said, his voice thick with emotion. He managed to lower his head and press a kiss to Rhaegar's hair, his eye shining with unshed tears.

Vaeda stood by the door, watching the scene with a heavy heart. She knew their time was limited, and every second felt precious. Rhaegar looked up at his father, his small face full of concern. "Daddy, why you here?"

Aemond sighed, his gaze shifting to Vaeda for a moment before returning to his son. "Daddy made some bad choices-”

Rhaegar nodded solemnly, not fully understanding. He nestled closer to Aemond, his little hands clutching at his father's tunic.

Vaeda stepped forward, her voice soft. "We have to go soon, Rhaegar."

Rhaegar looked up, his eyes pleading. "No, mummy. Stay with daddy."

Vaeda's heart broke a little more at his words. She knelt beside them, placing a gentle hand on Rhaegar's back. "We can't stay, but we'll see daddy again soon”.

Rhaegar nodded and then quickly pressed his stuffed dragon teddy into Aemond’s hands, the soft fabric contrasting sharply with the cold metal of the chains.

“Keep, daddy. Safe,” said Rhaegar.

Aemond’s eye widened, as he clutched the stuffed dragon close a single tear slid down his cheek, glistening in the dim light.

Rhaegar reached up and wiped the tear away with his tiny hand. “No cry, Daddy,” he said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to Aemond’s cheek.

Aemond looked at Vaeda, his eye filled with gratitude and sorrow. "Thank you," he whispered.

Vaeda nodded, her own eyes glistening with tears. She stood and lifted Rhaegar into her arms, the little boy protesting weakly. "We have to go now, my love."

As they turned to leave, Aemond's voice stopped them. "Rhaegar, be a good boy for your mother? I love you both so very much."

Rhaegar nodded; his face buried in Vaeda's shoulder. “Love you daddy”

Vaeda carried Rhaegar out of the cell, the door closing behind them with a heavy thud.

Later that night, Vaeda woke with a start. She could have sworn she heard Aemond's voice calling out to her in the darkness. As she sat up, straining to listen, her attention was captured by the sound of Vhagar roaring in the distance, followed by the unmistakable high-pitched whistle of her father's dragon, Caraxes. A cold dread settled in her chest. Something was wrong.

Pulling on a robe, Vaeda ran down the halls towards the cells. As she approached, she noticed the guards were conspicuously absent, replaced by the sounds of pained groans. Her heart pounded as she flung open the door to Aemond's cell.

Inside, she found her father, Daemon, his fist connecting brutally with Aemond's face. Blood spattered the cold stone floor.

"Stop!" Vaeda screamed, rushing between them. She placed herself protectively in front of Aemond, who was slumped against the wall, blood trickling from his nose and mouth.

Daemon's eyes blazed with fury. "Move, Vaeda. Let me deal with the kinslayer. This boy killed your brother. He deserves to pay for his crimes."

Vaeda stood her ground, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and determination. "If that is the case, then you should pay for yours. You may not have taken the blade to young Jaehaerys' neck, but you paid the men who did."

Daemon's face contorted with rage. "That was a mistake"

"Leave Aemond alone," Vaeda insisted, her voice steadying. "It is for the Queen to decide his fate."

Daemon snarled, his eyes narrowing at his daughter. After a tense moment, he stormed out of the cell, his heavy footsteps echoing in the corridor. Vaeda exhaled shakily, turning to see the guards had returned, their expressions conflicted.

"Unlock his chains," she demanded. When they hesitated, she added, "By order of the princess, or I will have you fed to Cannibal."

The threat worked. The guards moved quickly, freeing Aemond from his bonds. He slumped forward, barely able to stand. Vaeda reached out, helping him to his feet.

"Lean on me," she whispered, her voice soft but firm. "I'm taking you to my chambers."

Aemond nodded weakly, his body trembling with pain and exhaustion. As they made their way out of the cell, Vaeda cast a final, defiant glance at the guards, who quickly averted their eyes. If they wouldn’t do their job and guard Aemond then she would do it for them.

They moved slowly through the darkened corridors, Aemond leaning heavily on Vaeda. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the unspoken gratitude and vulnerability. When they finally reached her chambers, Vaeda helped him to the bed, gently easing him down.

"Thank you," Aemond whispered, his voice rough.

Vaeda sat beside him, her hand resting on his. "You're safe now," she said softly. "I won't let anyone hurt you."

The next day, Vaeda left Aemond in her chambers, having summoned Maester Gerardys to assess his injuries. The maester had cleaned and dressed the previously cauterized wound on Aemond's stomach and reset his broken nose, whilst administering a dose of milk of the poppy to ease his pain.

Now, Aemond slept soundly, his breathing even and steady. Vaeda took a deep breath, steeling herself for the council meeting that would decide Aemond's fate.

As she entered the council chamber, the room fell silent. Rhaenyra sat at the head of the table, her face stern and regal. Daemon, Jace, Baela, Rhaenys, Corlys, and the other lords were present, their expressions a mix of concern and determination.

Rhaenyra's eyes softened for a moment as she gazed upon her daughter "Vaeda, I have talked extensively with my council, and we all agree that it's too much of a risk to allow Aemond to live”

“Are you being serious?” exclaimed Vaeda.

“I’m sorry-but his past actions have proven that he can't be trusted” explained Rhaenyra.

Vaeda scoffed, her frustration boiling over. "Like you can stand there and talk about trust after all the lies you've told. The consequences of which stand before you, in the form of your children."

A shocked silence fell over the room. Rhaenyra's eyes widened in disbelief. Daemon's face darkened as he commanded, "Be mindful of how you speak to your Queen"

“Or else what?” challenged Vaeda.

“I shall have you punished” threatened Daemon.

“Wonderful-” mocked Vaeda clapping her hands together.

“Carry on and you will suffer the consequences-or your kinslayer husband will” snarled Daemon.

Vaeda's eyes flashed with defiance. "You dare after all the trouble you've caused over the years, and yet you dare to label Aemond a kinslayer when you're guilty of the exact same thing?"

Daemon slammed his fist down on the table, rising from his seat with fury. He charged toward Vaeda, his hand wrapping around her throat. "You know nothing of what I'm truly capable of” he hissed.

Vaeda smirked, her voice steady despite the pressure on her throat. "Oh, I know exactly what you're capable of."

Daemon felt a pinching sensation in his side, and he looked down to see the dagger Vaeda had pressed into his side.

“A bold move daughter-” said Daemon smiling, almost as if he was impressed.

"Stand down, both of you. NOW!" Rhaenyra's voice cut through the tension, commanding and firm.

Vaeda put the dagger back inside her sleeve as she stood before her mother, the anger still seething within her. "-This is all your fault," she began, her voice shaking with emotion. "Maybe if you had remained in King's Landing and actually spent time solidifying your position as heir instead of hiding away on Dragonstone, it wouldn't have been so easy to usurp you and maybe if you had bonded with your siblings instead of scorning them, our house wouldn't be so divided."

Rhaenyra's eyes widened in shock, but Vaeda didn't stop there. "And maybe if you had made Luke apologize for slashing out Aemond's eye, he might still be alive. You’ve helped to sow the seeds of discord, and now we’re the one’s dealing the consequences. But I will not stand by and let you sentence Aemond to death-"

"Vaeda," Rhaenyra started, her voice strained, but Vaeda cut her off.

"No! There has to be another way”

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Rhaenyra's face was a mask of pain and regret. "Vaeda, I never wanted any of this," she said softly. "But we have to think of the realm. Aemond's actions have threatened our cause and the lives of our people."

Vaeda's eyes filled with tears, but she stood firm. "And what about my family? What about Rhaegar growing up without his father? What about me, losing the man I love? There has to be another way. Because if you give that order, then I swear you will never see me or Rhaegar again"

“You are heir to the Iron Throne” muttered Jace.

“FUCK THE IRON THRONE!” declared Vaeda savagely.

Rhaenyra looked at her daughter, the weight of her words sinking in. She saw the determination and pain in Vaeda's eyes, and it broke her heart. "I don't want to lose you," she whispered.

"Then don't make me choose-because it will be him. It will always be him" Vaeda replied, her voice trembling.

Rhaenyra took a deep breath, her expression firm yet sorrowful. "I cannot trust Aemond, this you know" she began, her voice steady. "But I will not lose my only daughter." She paused, searching Vaeda's eyes for understanding. “Aemond may keep his life, but he is to remain on Dragonstone for the rest of his days."

Vaeda's breath caught in her throat, but she said nothing, waiting for her mother to continue.

"And when the time comes for you to be crowned Queen," Rhaenyra continued, her tone resolute, "Aemond will not sit beside you as your Consort King. You will rule the Seven Kingdoms on your own, until your son ascends the throne after your natural passing"

Vaeda stood before her mother, heart pounding. She knew how much was at stake. The fate of her husband and the future of her family rested on her next words. She took a deep, shuddering breath, her decision weighing heavily on her.

"Alright," she said, her voice barely above a whisper at first, but then she found her strength. "I agree to your conditions”

Rhaenyra nodded, her eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and relief. "I know this isn't easy, but it's the only way."

Vaeda's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts as she made her way back to her chambers. How would Aemond react? Would he understand the necessity of this compromise? Her heart ached at the thought of telling him, but she knew it was either this or see him executed and she couldn't bear the latter.

Entering her chambers, she found Aemond still resting, his face peaceful in sleep. She approached quietly, not wanting to startle him. Sitting beside him, she gently took his hand in hers, waiting for him to wake.

Aemond stirred, his eye fluttering open. He looked up at her, confusion and concern evident in his gaze. "Vaeda?" he murmured.

"Aemond," she said softly, squeezing his hand.

He sat up slowly, wincing slightly at the pain from his injuries. "What is it?"

Vaeda took another deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation. "My mother has made her decision-”

“Am I to meet the stranger?” asked Aemond quietly.

“That was to be your fate, but I managed to convince my mother otherwise-” replied Vaeda as she reached forward and tucked a lose strand of Aemond’s long silver hair behind his ear.

“How?”

“I told her that if she ordered your execution then she would never see me or Rhaegar ever again. Plus, I may have told her a few home truths whilst I was at it, and I might have gone slightly overboard-” said Vaeda smiling sheepishly.

“Hmmm”

“A compromise was reached. You will be allowed to live, but you must stay on Dragonstone for the remainder of your days and when I become Queen, you will not be my Consort King. I will rule alone."

Aemond's eye widened slightly, processing her words. Silence stretched between them as he absorbed the news.

Finally, he nodded, his expression a mixture of relief and resignation. "I understand," he said quietly. "If it means that I can stay with you and Rhaegar, then it doesn’t matter”

 “No matter what-you will always be Issa dārys” (My King).

“Issa dāria-” muttered Aemond (My Queen).

"Sounds like someone is hungry," teased Vaeda at the sound of Aemond’s stomach growling.

“Little bit” replied Aemond.

“I'll go request some food for you” said Vaeda as she started to move from the bed.

But before she could get far, Aemond's hand shot out, gently taking hold of her wrist. "I'm not hungry for food," he said, his voice low and filled with intent.

Vaeda's cheeks flushed a delicate pink as she realized what he meant. Her heartbeat quickened, as she allowed Aemond to pull her back onto the bed.

"Aemond," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and affection.

He moved closer, his eye locking onto hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. "Vaeda," he murmured, his voice soft but filled with longing. "I need you."

She nodded, feeling a wave of love and desire wash over her as Aemond's hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb gently brushing over her skin. "I love you," he said, his voice rough with emotion.

"I love you too," Vaeda replied, her voice filled with sincerity. She leaned in, capturing his lips in a quick tender kiss.

Aemond watched with a hooded gaze as Vaeda moved off the bed and began to untie the laces of her gown, letting it fall to the floor, with the material pooling at her feet.

Whilst she removed her shift, Aemond hastily pulled off his breeches and small clothes, he sighed in relief as his already hard cock was free from its confines.

Vaeda smiled slightly as she hooked her fingers around her own small clothes and slowly pulled them down, Aemond could feel himself salivating as he stared at her cunny.

“Come here-” growled Aemond, as he reached out and tugged Vaeda back on the bed.

“Let me take care of you” muttered Vaeda as she placed kisses along Aemond jaw and then down his neck, making sure to gently nip and suck his skin as she went.

She carried on moving down, pausing as she reached his chest, she grinned as she took one of his nipples into her mouth, her tongue teasing it before she bit down gently.

“FUCK” moaned Aemond.

“Does issa dārys like that?” asked Vaeda as she moved across and gave his other nipple the same attention, (My King).

“Oh. Gods” whimpered Aemond as she moved further down his body, her tongue and teeth grazing his pale skin.

When she reached the trail of hair from his belly button down to his cock, she pressed her nose against him and giggled when she felt the hair tickle her skin.

“Kostilus issa jorrāelagon” begged Aemond (Please my love).

“Ao līs umbagon issa zaldrīzes” replied Vaeda (You must wait, my dragon).

Aemond stared down at his naughty wife, his mouth hanging open as Vaeda’s warm, wet mouth quickly wrapped around the head of his cock.

Her tongue gently moving around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.

“Fuck, Vaeda!” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through his wife’s silver hair.

Vaeda ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.

Aemond’s heart almost stopped when she sucked his stones into her mouth, one at a time.

Her hand moving slowly over the hard length of him.

When Vaeda moved and engulfed Aemond’s cock in her mouth again, he squeezed his eye shut. She was driving him crazy.

But Aemond forced himself to open his eye, he needed to watch as his wife sucked his cock. 

“Your taking me so well. Such a good girl” moaned Aemond.

Aemond knew it would push the limits of his control, but he did not care. He just had to watch his cock disappear into Vaeda’s mouth and see it come back out, shining with her spit.

Her head moving back and forth, her perfect pink lips stretched around him.

“I’m not going to last if you carry on” Aemond admitted, though it pained him to do so.

Vaeda smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth. 

“It feels so good-that’s it” groaned Aemond.

Vaeda responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of her husband’s cock as she could, whilst her other hand cupped his stones.

“Shit-Vaeda. I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.

His wife took every last drop, swallowing his warm seed and licking him clean.

When he recovered, Aemond saw Vaeda’s self-satisfied smile.

“Was that to your liking husband?” asked Vaeda.

“Y-Yes. Now get up here and ride my face until I’m ready again” gasped Aemond.

“But your nose” whispered Vaeda concerned.

“I don’t care-get up here and sit on my fucking face” ordered Aemond, his cock already twitching with interest.

Vaeda hovered above Aemond’s face; her knees splayed on either side of his head.

“Such a pretty cock sleeve" breathed Aemond as he ran the flat of his tongue along Vaeda’s soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Vaeda her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it Issa dōna. Let me hear you” (My sweet).

“YES. It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Vaeda.

“FUCK” growled Aemond.

“Ooooh A-Aemond” shrieked Vaeda.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Vaeda, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Vaeda "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“Oh" whimpered Vaeda; her chest heaving as she began to gently roll her hips against him.

“That’s it baby, ride my fucking face” groaned Aemond, his cock was so hard that it was boarding on painful.

Vaeda was giving off a slew of loud swear words, moans, and pleas, that anyone passing her chambers would surely hear.

 Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me baby, come for daddy” moaned Aemond.

Finally, he felt Vaeda’s inner walls start to flutter around his fingers, squeezing them. Vaeda’s back arched taut as a bow and she screamed her release.

Aemond pumped slowly and lapped at his wife’s centre as she came.

After a few minutes, Aemond gently urged his wife to move down, so she was hovering above his cock.

Her hand wrapped around him, running the head of his cock along her warm wet folds.

“Your such a tease” moaned Aemond as his hips jerked involuntarily.

But it feels so good” replied Vaeda as she slowly sunk down on his cock, so only the tip of him was inside her.

“P-Please” whimpered Aemond.

“Uh-uh” said Vaeda shaking her head from side to side.

After a few torturous minutes Aemond couldn’t take it anymore and seized his wife’s hips, before surging up and ploughing his hard cock into her soaked cunt.

"AEMOND!" screamed Vaeda.

"Gods. You feel so good" rasped Aemond.

"Fuck me, Aemond" urged Vaeda, her tone bordering on desperate as she rolled her hips against his.

Aemond started to thrust slowly, trying to prolong the feel of his wife squeezing his cock.

“P-Please. Husband” whined Vaeda as Aemond began teasing her pearl with his thumb.

“That’s it-take all of me”

“OH-MY-“ shrieked Vaeda Aemond began to move.

"Faster, please" begged Vaeda.

“Like this?” replied Aemond as he gave a quick deep thrust.

“Yes, Aemond, just like that-" panted Vaeda.

Her hands ran along his arms, over his shoulders and down his chest, digging her nails into his pale skin.

“Gods, Vaeda" grunted Aemond, speeding up slightly.

"Fuck me, Aemond" whispered Vaeda "Fuck me with that big, cock of yours. You feel so good inside me, filling me up. Give me what I need. Give me your seed. I want it”.

Aemond knew exactly what Vaeda was doing, and he couldn’t help himself.

Vaeda wanted faster and he was going much faster now, his feet planted on the bed to give him more leverage and his pace increased with every filthy word that dropped from his wife’s luscious lips as he pounded into her.

“Aemond-I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Vaeda; not caring if anyone could hear them.

Vaeda always looked amazing when she came. Her head thrown back in pleasure, her amethyst eyes alive with lust, and her pale skin shining with sweat.

“I’m going to put another babe in you-See you full of milk-”

“Y-Yes A-Aemond-I want another. Give it to me” whined Vaeda as she clamped down around his cock so hard he could hardly move.

That, combined with how glorious Vaeda looked, pushed Aemond over the edge, the heat shooting across his abdomen.

“God. Vaeda” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he spilled his seed inside his wife’s wet heat.

Afterwards, as they lay together, tangled in each other’s arms, the door to Vaeda’s chambers suddenly opened.

Aemond instinctively moved to cover himself and Vaeda with a sheet, but the sudden movement caused a sharp pain to shoot through his stomach, and he hissed in discomfort.

"Easy," Vaeda murmured, her fingers brushing against his cheek, concern etched in her eyes.

Jace stood in the doorway, his gaze fixed on his sister and Aemond, watching as Vaeda fussed over Aemond, the tenderness in her actions surprising him.

He had always known his sister to be fierce and unyielding, and seeing her reduced to a cock struck woman made his stomach churn. He hated the hold Aemond had over her.

Aemond caught Jace staring at Vaeda, and his lips curled into a slight sneer. "It is not appropriate to covet another man's wife, especially in the presence of her husband," he said, his voice dripping with condescension.

Jace's face reddened, and he looked at the floor, muttering, "The Queen has asked that you both attend dinner." Without waiting for a response, he hastily left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Aemond scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "She expects me to break bread with—"

Vaeda placed a gentle finger over his lips, silencing him. "She has allowed you to keep your life. Let's not give her cause to change her mind," she said softly, her eyes pleading with him to understand.

Aemond sighed, his hand covering hers. "Very well," he relented, though the resentment in his voice was unmistakable. "For you, I will endure this."

Vaeda smiled, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. "Thank you,"

Vaeda and Aemond walked into the dining room, with Rhaegar nestled securely in his father’s arms. The air was thick with tension as they took their seats at the long table. The faces around it—Rhaenyra, Daemon, Jace, Baela, Rhaenys, and Corlys—were a mix of curiosity, suspicion, and barely concealed animosity.

Even though he was hungry Aemond hesitated to eat, his eye flicking to each dish with apprehension.

Daemon noticed and couldn’t resist a jab. “Fear not, nephew. It would not serve to poison you now, not after your wife fought so valiantly for your life.”

Vaeda’s eyes flashed with anger as she scowled at her father. “Enough,” she said through gritted teeth.

Aemond reached for Vaeda’s hand under the table and gave it a gentle squeeze before he reached for some bread and meat.

The entire table of guests were silent, the only noise was the sound of cutlery on the plates, and as the awkwardness progressed, Rhaenyra found herself watching Aemond as he interacted with Rhaegar. Despite the tension, he appeared to be a very attentive and loving father.

Rhaegar openly vied for his father’s attention, and even when the boy threw a tantrum and refused to eat his peas, Aemond remained patient and calm, and Rhaegar eventually gave in and ate his food, much to the quiet amazement of those watching.

Daemon, never one to let an opportunity for a snide remark pass, said, “Surprised to see that you’re actually a decent father.”

Aemond’s expression hardened. “I simply wish for my son to know he is loved, something Viserys never managed to show all of his children. That right was exclusively reserved for his favourite child”

Rhaenyra’s eyes narrowed, but before she could respond, Daemon openly declared, “We set out for King’s Landing on the morrow. Do you wish to beg for the lives of your traitorous kin?”

Vaeda’s patience snapped. “Father, stop.”

Aemond’s voice was steady but filled with restrained anger. “Aegon will pose no threat, as he will more than likely succumb to his injuries, Daeron is but a boy in Oldtown. As for my mother and Helaena, they are innocent of any wrongdoing. Perhaps that’s something you should’ve remembered when you ordered the execution of Jaehaerys.”

Vaeda slammed her hands down on the table, her frustration boiling over. “ENOUGH!”

She took Rhaegar from Aemond’s arms and stormed out of the dining room, her movements swift and determined.

Aemond rose to follow, his eye burning with a mix of anger and sorrow as Daemon sniggered into his cup of wine, clearly enjoying the chaos he had sown.

The next evening, Aemond was pacing around Vaeda's chambers, his steps echoing in the dimly lit room. The heavy burden of uncertainty pressed down on him as he thought of Rhaenyra and Daemon taking King’s Landing.

Vaeda had been reluctant to take Cannibal, as he was still tired from the battle at Rook’s Rest, but her mother’s insistence that she needed her daughter by her side had ultimately swayed her, and Vaeda had spent many hours making sure Cannibal gorged himself on as much food as he could in preparation for the journey to Kings Landing.

Aemond had asked to accompany them, but Rhaenyra had refused.

Now, he found himself left on Dragonstone with Rhaegar under heavy guard. Throughout the day, he made sure his son was fed and entertained.

They played dragons, and he read to him, but no distraction could keep his mind from wandering back to thoughts of his mother, Helaena, and the children. He had faith in Vaeda’s advocacy for their safety, but Daemon was such an unpredictable wildcard that not even the gods would know of his plans.

He did not mourn his grandsire or the others on the council—the seeds of their treason had been sown long before he ever existed. Yet, the uncertainty of their fates gnawed at him.

As night fell, Aemond found himself unwilling to part from Rhaegar. He lay in bed with his son cuddled up to him, the child’s soft breaths a soothing rhythm in the dark room.

Watching Rhaegar sleep, Aemond couldn’t help but notice how much he resembled Vaeda. A fond smile touched his lips as he remembered how she drooled in her sleep too, a detail he would never dare to mention to her of course.

The moonlight filtered through the window, casting a gentle glow over the room. Aemond’s thoughts drifted to the precarious future ahead. He whispered a silent prayer for Vaeda’s safety, hoping that her presence would be enough to sway any harsh decisions made against his family.

Aemond stirred awake, the feeling of a soft touch on his face bringing him out of his slumber. He opened his eye and saw Vaeda sitting on the bed, her hair windswept and falling free from its braid. She looked weary but determined.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Vaeda nodded quietly, then whispered, "Follow me."

Gently detaching himself from Rhaegar, he carefully rose from the bed. Elana, the handmaid had entered the room to look after the still-sleeping boy.

Aemond followed Vaeda through the dimly lit corridors, his heart pounding with every step.

"Is everything okay? What about my mother? Helaena and the children?" he asked repeatedly, but Vaeda remained silent, her expression unreadable.

They reached the throne room, its vast space cloaked in darkness. Vaeda led him to the centre of the room and stopped.

Aemond looked around, confused and anxious, when he heard a voice that made his heart skip a beat.

"Brother."

He turned swiftly to see Helaena standing there, her face illuminated by the faint moonlight filtering through the windows. Overwhelmed, he walked toward her, his voice trembling.

"May I?"

Helaena nodded, and they embraced, the weight of their separation melting away in that moment. Tears welled up in his eye as he held her close.

"Uncle!" came a chorus of little voices.

Aemond looked up to see Jaehaera and Maelor running toward him, their faces lit with joy. He knelt down, opening his arms wide to gather them in a tight embrace.

He looked over their heads at Vaeda, stunned and grateful. She stood watching them, a tender smile on her lips.

"Thank you," whispered Aemond, his voice thick with emotion.

Vaeda walked over to join them, her hand gently resting on his shoulder. "They are to reside here with us-I hope this is pleasing to you husband"

Aemond, still holding his niece and nephew close, looked at Vaeda with an intense gaze. "What happened in King's Landing?"

Vaeda took a deep breath. "My mother has successfully claimed the Iron Throne. The traitors have been culled, with much enthusiasm from my father and your mother has been confined to her chambers, but she is safe."

Aemond's jaw tightened, and he nodded slowly, processing the information. "And Aegon?" he asked, his voice strained.

Vaeda hesitated, glancing at Helaena. Aemond noticed the exchange and felt a knot form in his stomach. Helaena stepped forward; her eyes filled with sorrow.

"Aegon is dead," she said quietly. "He was in much pain. It was kinder to let him slip away while he was sleeping."

Aemond's eye widened, and he looked at his sister in shock. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"The feathers in the cotton took his breath” whispered Helaena.

Aemond’s breath caught in his throat as he realized what she meant. He stared at her, as the weight of her words began to sink in.

He didn't say anything. Because he had no right. Aegon's injuries had been his fault, and now his brother was dead. The realization left him hollow, a deep ache settling in his chest.

“The seed will bear many fruits-the dragon’s line is long; the unburnt mother will fight the ice and fire song”  muttered Helaena softly.

“What?” asked Aemond.

“The stories’ in the steel” uttered Helaena as she reached into her long overcoat and pulled out the Valyrian steel dagger that once belonged to Viserys and then Aegon.

“Helaena, how did you-” exclaimed Aemond his singular eye widening.

“The heir knows, passed down from one to the other” said Helaena as she handed the dagger to Vaeda.

“What do you mean?” asked Aemond.

"I'm quite tired. It’s been a long day. Might I go to bed?" asked Helaena, her voice soft and almost childlike.

Vaeda nodded. She turned to a nearby guard. "Please escort Princess Helaena and the children to the guest chambers," she instructed.

“I do not fear my dreams this night-”

As a guard appeared and gestured for Helaena to follow. She picked up Maelor, his small arms wrapping around her neck, and took Jaehaera's hand.

Aemond watched them go, a mixture of curiosity and relief washing over him. He turned back to Vaeda, his expression softening.

“What was all that about?”

“As me again sometime and I will tell you” replied Vaeda.

Aemond simply smiled as he pulled her close and kissed her, pouring every ounce of love and gratitude he felt into that kiss.

Vaeda melted into his embrace, her own emotions swirling. When they finally broke apart, “I love you," Aemond whispered, his voice full of resolve.

"I love you too," Vaeda replied softly, her fingers gently tracing his scarred cheek.

Many moons had passed since Rhaenyra had reclaimed the Iron Throne and establishing her rule as Queen was not an easy task. While she had her supporters, others still rallied behind Aegon. Rumours of his demise had sparked calls for Aemond to press his own claim, but he steadfastly refused.

Confined to Dragonstone, Aemond found solace in the ancestral seat of House Targaryen. The vast library, filled with ancient scrolls and Valyrian texts, captivated his mind, satisfying his thirst for the knowledge of his forebears.

His days were filled with training and sparring with the guards of Dragonstone, honing his skills. He also took to teaching Rhaegar High Valyrian, cherishing every moment spent with his son.

Helaena, Jaehaera, and Maelor were thriving on Dragonstone, and to Vaeda’s horror so was the spider colony that Helaena had cheerfully installed in her chambers.

Vaeda of course made sure to actively avoid that part of the castle, fearful of what she might encounter.

Another thing that was flourishing was the babe currently nestled within Vaeda. Aemond had been ecstatic when she informed him that his seed had taken root once more and he was by her side as she birthed their daughter, a tiny little dragon who lungs were well in working order as she announced her arrival into the world very loudly.

As he cradled his sweet Elaena in his arms, any doubts over the decisions he had made in the past just melted away, for he knew this was where he was supposed to be.

Especially when Vaeda gave him the news not even eight moons later, she was carrying another child, that pregnancy was quite hard on her and she spend many weeks abed with aches and sickness, but in the end, they were blessed with another son named Aerys.

Given Vaeda had suffered during her term, Aemond vowed not to get her child again, at least not for a while, but the gods obviously had other ideas as when Aerys was but a child of one name day old, she gave him the news of another expected babe.

Helaena found the whole thing hilarious and was quick to remind Aemond that ‘the seed would bear many fruits’.

And well she wasn’t wrong, as in the end Vaeda and Aemond were blessed with six sons and six daughters.

It was just as well that Dragonstone was big enough to accommodate such a large family, but in the chaos of squabbling children and the endless headaches that came with convincing them that their lessons were useful for the future, he knew he wouldn’t change it for the world.

All his children were treated equally, and as often as his sons trained with the sword so did his daughters.

He wanted things to be different, he wanted to be different.

The children, would always know of his love, his attention and they would know how wanted they were.

As would Vaeda, she was his heart, his soul and his greatest love, and everyday he made sure to tell her that he loved her.

Aemond had everything he had ever wanted, he was happy and more importantly he was loved.

And if Vaeda changed the previous Queen’s ruling and installed Aemond as her consort King the moment she was crowned in the Dragon pit well that was just fine with him.

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 6 - Your Brother | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.3k

Even though things were ‘good’ you couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about what you and Trent were doing. He was in and out of town so often for football it was hard to know what was happening. So, in the midst of flickering doubts, you had decided you would try to create some self-imposed distance to keep your heart safe. You’d gotten to a place where yes… you were sending nudes, videos of you in bed which in itself maybe wasn’t the smartest but it was happening, you were enjoying it in fact. But enjoyment couldn’t mask apprehension. Still, you were keeping everything just on the phone. Keeping everything hush, not even Layla knew how deep things were getting. And while this digital relationship was blossoming, you were keeping the public one that existed in front of everyone’s eyes at an arm's length. And it hurt to be living what felt like a double life.  You two clearly had no self control and that was evident in the text exchanges so keeping your distance felt smart.  With all of that in mind, you hadn’t expected to see Trent at your door this afternoon, let alone embracing you in a cuddle so warm it felt like he hadn’t seen you in ages when it’d been mere days. You stiffened at first, taken by surprise, but quickly melted into him. As much as you tried to pretend you shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t do this with him, you yearned for this very thing; the physical connection you were trying so hard to keep at bay. You tried to believe that space was the best thing to do to keep yourself safe but the second his arms wrapped around you… the world melted along with you. Memories of him flooding you. It was like he had your heart before you couldn’t even try to stop him from grabbing it. You were powerless and you loved being weak for him. 

“You’re back home.” Your voice was muffled against his skin in the embrace of the hug. He hummed, squeezing you that much tighter. Just as you began to pull back, his grin widened cheekily. 

“Can you wait here f’me? I got something for you.” Before you could respond, He smiled as he darted back out to his car, leaving you standing there, curiosity building, warmth flooding you. When he returned, he was holding a stunning bouquet, petals in shades of blush and deep red. 

“I don’t play footie in the park anymore so I thought you deserve more than a daisy.” He smiled earnestly with a glint in his eyes that almost looked scared. Trent was still grappling with how to show you just how much he cared. He was worried about Jack, sure, but keeping things hush didn’t feel so bad at the minute as long as he showed you he cared. He was looking for that sweet spot of past and present. And so began another attempt. You couldn’t help the way your cheeks flushed as you took the flowers, turning them in your hands, admiring every detail. But Trent wasn’t done. “Pretty girl…” He cooed gently to grab you attention off the floral arrangement and back to him. He smirked holding two more bags. You raised your brow with a smile you couldn’t contain anymore. He handed you a sleek Dior shopping bag, his words tumbling out in a rush. “You know like… I was in just France for the game and… well, I saw this, and I just thought of you.” He stumbled through words with a smile. You turned and placed the flowers and the bag on a console in the foyer of the house unboxing it all. Inside was a mini red Dior lady dior, classic, chic, and unmistakably something you loved on sight. Yes, this was very much so a perk of present day Trent. 

“Trent, I—” You looked up at him, stunned, your heart racing. But before you could finish, he interrupted with a cheeky smirk.

“One more thing… because well, in my opinion it matches and…”  As you took the next bag he was pushing towards you and began to open the other, you smirked with a furrowed brow. It wasn't any more designer, instead something priceless. You pulled out a familiar red top you had just seen Trent wearing on the telly during his match days ago. You smiled seeing a Liverpool Alexander-Arnold jersey. One of his own. “If you ever want to wear one,” he said, his eyes softening. “I’d prefer it if it was mine. Because you know… you’re kind of mine.” The words hung between you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. You ran your fingers over the bold name and number on the back, biting back a giddy smile. 

“This is… wow, are you sure, baby, It’s a pretty big statement.” you teased, glancing up at him. He stepped closer, his eyes serious, and reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I mean it.  You’re… You’re so important to me, Y/N.” That moment felt like a declaration all on its own, leaving you feeling lighter and less uncertain, ready to see where this might possibly go.  That maybe it wasn’t all just for behind closed doors. The gift in your hands felt weighty, more than just fabric or leather—it felt like a quiet promise. “I always liked when you were at the park watching me play growing up, and I really like it when you’re at Anfield now watching me.” His words stuck you deep. Maybe he wasn’t just making it all up about having a crush on your growing up in the park. The way Trent looked at you, the softness in his eyes and the little, lingering smile on his lips, spoke volumes. You glanced down at the jersey again, fingertips tracing over the double barreled last name. This wasn’t just a shirt; it was a claim, a gesture that felt almost absurdly personal. He watched you closely, gauging every shift in your expression. His usual confident demeanor softened, almost vulnerable, as he waited for you to say something more. But words felt clumsy in that moment, so you took a small step forward and wrapped your arms around him, holding him tightly. Trent hugged you back, his hands gentle against your back, pulling you in like he was afraid to let go.

“I… I don’t even know what to say,” you finally whispered into his shoulder, feeling both overwhelmed and elated. You pulled back, just enough to look up at him. “This is… it’s really thoughtful, T, baby.” He gave a little shrug, downplaying the significance. 

“Think about you a lot. I wish I could show you better. This is one way I guess.  And I just thought you’d look better in one mine, yeah?” His tone was casual, but his eyes betrayed him. You could see the warmth, the intent behind this small collection of gifts. Grinning, you took the jersey holding it up between you. 

“So… I’m supposed to just wear this and be yours, huh?” You said with a smirk. His grin turned into a smirk. 

“That’s the idea,” he said, stepping in close, his hands finding your waist. “But only if you’re up for it.” You felt your cheeks heat up, but you didn’t break his gaze. His fingers began to play with the hem of the shirt you currently had on. You didn’t expect your heart to stutter the way it did seeing him today. You looked down, biting your lip, feeling almost shy under his gaze. 

“And you’re sure?” you murmured, looking back up at him. He reached up, cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek, letting his fingers linger just a little longer against your skin. 

“I’ve known you too long not to be.” His voice was low, and there was a sincerity there that felt like a balm to every worry you’d been carrying. Without another word, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, soft but intentional, letting yourself believe him. Trent’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, like he was anchoring himself to you. The kiss deepened, and you both sank into it, unhurried, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment.  You finally pulled back from the kiss to really look at the jersey still in your hands. It wasn’t from a store it was very clearly one of his. He even had drawn a little heart, in only a way a boy would, but nevertheless cute, on the bottom of the white embossed  #66. The whole thing was incredibly sweet. 

“Guess I know what I’m wearing to the next match I go to. Someone just has to invite me.” You said with a teasing smile.

“You’re always invited but yeah, you better be wearing that,” he chuckled, his eyes shining. “I’ve got a feeling it’s gonna look perfect on you as well.” And with that, you felt some of your doubts fade, replaced by the excitement of whatever was waiting ahead and right now what was waiting was  thick sexual tension creeping in. As you held the soft fabric of the jersey, Trent's eyes sparkled with mischief. He stepped back into you once more, his muscular body radiating heat, planting a soft kiss on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His warm breath fanning your sensitive skin as he gently nibbled, leaving a trail of tingling sensations. Swiftly a moment that was meant to be sentimental, suddenly began to steam up. 

"Do you want me to try it on for you, baby?" you suggested, your voice a little hoarse with desire. Trent hummed in response, his lips still brushing against your skin as his fingers idley returned to play with the hem of your shirt. With a swift motion, he lifted the shirt you were already wearing over your head entirely exposing your bare torso, no bra. Your breath caught at the sudden rush of cool air on your heated skin. Trent's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of your full tits, your nipples already hardening in anticipation.

"You look so fucking gorgeous all the fucking time, baby" he growled, his voice thick with want. His hands glided over your shoulders, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and then slid down to cup your tits. He thumbed your nipples, rolling and pinching gently, making you gasp and arch into his touch.

"I need you, T… now," you murmured before his lips found yours in a searing kiss. The kiss was hungry, demanding, and filled with passion. Different than before. Trent's tongue danced with yours, exploring and claiming, while his hands roamed freely over your body, mapping every curve and valley. He kneaded your boobs, squeezing and lifting them, making you moan into his mouth. You clung to him, running your fingers over his curls, pulling him closer as if you could merge your bodies into one. His erection pressing against your lower belly, a hard ridge that promised pleasure and satisfaction you’d come to know well but couldn’t get enough of. His hands moved to slide around you down to your ass, over it and then under. Breaking the kiss, Trent lifted you effortlessly into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carried you upstairs, making sure to grab both of your tops in his hand, sparing any damning evidence. His strong arms never faltering as you giggled breathlessly nibbling on his ear lobe whispering the naughtiest things in his ear despite feeling like an innocent princess in his hold. And then like a shot gun signaling a start, your bedroom door clicked shut behind you. 

Trent laid you down on your soft sheets, his eyes never leaving yours. In a blur of passion, you found yourself on your bed, both of your clothes completely vanished now, your legs wrapped around Trent's strong waist again. He hovered above you, his body a delicious weight pressing you into the mattress. You could feel his cock, hard and insistent, pressing against you. His eyes, dark and intense, holding yours captive, and you knew in that moment it truly felt like you were his. The dominant glint in his eyes sent a thrill through your body, making you ache to surrender completely.

“Tell me what you want.” He cooed almost tauntingly.  Trent's voice was a low rumble, filled with desire and possession as he whispered above you leaning in to begin leaving kisses from behind your ear down your jaw. You didn’t answer you just nodded eagerly, giving him permission, your eyes pleading for him to take control. And he did. He pressed his lips to yours as his fingers trailed down your body, tracing your curves, before slipping between your thighs and  through your pussy’s wet folds.  “Such a messy girl. You're so always so fucking wet for me, baby," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. You were already soaked, your arousal glistening on your sensitive folds. Trent's touch was like a lightning bolt, igniting a fire within you. “Tell me what you want.” He demanded again and it started a fire in you, igniting something carnal. You whined and when he teased his fingers around your clit. 

"You, T, fuck… I want you," you whimpered as he stroked your clit, his touch feather-light but intensely pleasurable. His fingers dipped lower, finding your entrance and pushing inside, filling you with a delicious stretch. You gasped as you felt him slip two fingers all the way inside of you with a curl. He smirked watching your face scrunch up from the intrusion. You arched off your bed, seeking more, your hips moving in rhythm with his fingers. "Please, baby" you begged, your voice breathy and desperate. "I need you inside me. I want your cock, T." He grinned down at you, his eyes alight with possessiveness.  “I want you to be rough, T.” You whined desperate for him to just use you. 

"You want me to be rough with you? You like that don't you, baby?" He mocked in the hottest way. You reached out towards him, dragging your hand down his abs before wrapping your hand around his hard shaft. You pumped his cock with your spit mixed with his leaking precum,l. He pulled his fingers out of you swiftly. His one hand laced his fingers with yours pinning your hands above your head, the other tapping his cock against your clit, dragging it through your fold’s teasingly.  Neither of you had the patience for more foreplay. You needed him inside of you now and he was giving you just that.  His big brown eyes met yours, your breathing getting heavier and heavier. “You’re gonna be a good girl f’me, hmm?” His words send a thrill through you, a heady combination of desire and submission. You nod eagerly, your eyes locked on his.

"Yeah" you whispered. He positioned himself between your thighs, his hands moving to grip your hip firmly. You felt the broad head of his cock nudging at your entrance before he thrusted forward, filling you in one smooth stroke."Oh, God!" you cried out, your body welcoming him with a delicious tightness. Your hands broke out of his and grabbed to hold him. Your nails digging into his back muscles as he slid inside of you. Your back arched off the bed with a gasp. He rocked into you. Trent’s cock stretched you deliciously hitting the spot only he knew immediately. 

“Doing so good f’me, baby. Take my cock so well. You okay?” He asked gently as he flicked his eyes to yours. You nodded with a shy smile as he pulled back out just barely, leaving just the tip in. With a growl, he thrusted into you again, filling you so completely that you gasped once over. His cock, hard and throbbing, stretching you to the limit, and you loved every second of it. The sensation of being so full, so possessed, sent sparks of pleasure through your body. He set a relentless pace, his hips snapping forward, driving into you with deep, powerful strokes. Your bodies creating a sensual rhythm, the squelching sound of your skin slapping against each other filling the room. Trent's jaw clenched, his eyes hooded as he watched his cock disappear into your slick heat.

"You feel so fucking good," you moaned, your breath coming in short gasps. "Feel so deep. Oh my god." You whined. You inhaled a sharp breath feeling a lightheadedness come over as you took him.  He kept his beautiful brown eyes fixed on you. The pupils in his dark eyes dilated as he felt his cock pulse inside you. Every movement was slow, deep, and intentional. His lips curled into a smug smile hearing you whine. You were completely his and he reveled in it. You dragged your ankle down his back muscles. He was so gentle yet harsh at the same time. Trent’s hand slid up your body and wrapped around your neck gently but assertively causing the knot in your core to tighten as you moaned more.   

"Whose pussy is this?" he demanded, his voice hoarse with need. 

"Yours, Trent," you whispered, your voice breathless. "Only yours." He quickened his pace, his hips snapping forward with each thrust, driving into you relentlessly. Your tits, full and heavy, bounced with each movement, the sensitive peaks grazing his chest, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. He let go of your neck and leaned back a little. Trent's hands moving to grip your thighs, holding your legs wide open, exposing you completely to his gaze and touch. 

"God, fuck. You're so fucking wet, baby," he growled, his eyes fixed on the junction where his cock disappeared into your body. "So good f’me." He praised you as you moaned, the explicit words and the sight of him pounding into your body pushing you closer to the edge. Your hands moved off him to clutch at the sheets, your knuckles turning white as you tried to anchor yourself against the force of his thrusts. The room continued to be filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your desperate moans, and Trent's dirty words. Trent could feel your pussy clenching tighter, he knew you were close. 

"Tell me, baby, whose cock are you gonna cum on right now?" Trent's voice was rough but smug, his face a mask of pure desire and self satisfaction.

"Yours, T," you panted, your voice thick with pleasure. “I want to cum on your cock." Your eyes rolling back as you felt the climax building. "I'll only ever cum on your cock, T." Your words seemed to unleash something primal within him. His eyes lit with possession. His hips pistoned faster, his cock pounding into your sensitive flesh. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust, his cock feeling harder inside of you, and the knowledge that he was close to his own release sent you spiraling towards your climax. The words you’d just said had tumbled out. And to be honest, you kind of hoped your commitment was true. You only ever wanted his dick… it was that good. You wrapped your legs stayed around his waist, drawing him even deeper, your hands moving to clutch at his shoulders, leaving half-moon marks on his tanned skin. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a fierce kiss, his tongue invading, possessing. His hips never stoping their relentless motion, driving you closer and closer to the edge of bliss.

"That's right, you're my good girl. Only cum f’me. Only gonna ever wear my jersey too, yeah?" he grunted the question, his eyes never leaving yours. You nodded as the coil in your stomach tightened. Orgasmic bliss barrelling towards you."Cum for me, baby. Show me how much you love my cock." His words were like a match to the kindling of your desire. His words pushed you over the precipice. Your body tensed every nerve ending singing as you soared into your climax. Trent's fingers dug into your hips, holding you firmly in place as he fucked you into your climax, his own release building. And then in a split second just when the outside world couldn’t have seemed further away you heard the tracks of the garage door begin to open.

 "T!" you cried out, your voice high and desperate. The distant rumble of Jack returning home made your heart stop but you couldn’t stop your body’s orgasmic convulsions though. Your climax exploded through your body, rippling waves of pleasure that caused your back to arch and your pussy to clamp down on Trent’s cock. You cried out, your voice a mix of pleasure and surprise and panic, as your release washed over you, the waves of pleasure so intense they left you trembling. Trent's name was a mantra on your lips you were trying to bite back as you rode the waves of ecstasy but it was all mixed with genuine fear. “T… T.. fuck!” You yelped,  your hands moving to press against his chest to push him off. He didn’t hear the garage, he was locked in. You knew he was about to cum. “Trent!” You yelped just as his body tensed above you. His eyes squeezed shut, and he let out a guttural grunt, his hips making one final, powerful thrust as he filled you with his release. “Jack! Trent!” You told him. Trent had never had a more conflicting climax in his life. Panic, euphoria, and disgust hearing his mates name while he finished all at once. Trent's eyes widened, and he froze, his cock still buried deep within you. His release leaking inside you. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, a frantic rhythm that matched your own. The sensation of his hot cum inside you sent you over the edge again, a second orgasm washing over you, leaving you boneless and sated, Trent fighting back a groan as you tightened around him once more. Panting, your bodies glistening with sweat, you clung to each other, hearts racing but you needed to move. Now. The sudden realization that you were both naked and exposed snapped you back to the present. Anxiety flared in your chest as you scrambled to get Trent off you and find your clothes, your heart pounding. This was it. Jack was going to find out. 

"Shit," Trent cursed, quickly reaching for his boxers. "Your brother... we need to get downstairs." He instructed you. The urgency in his voice mirrored your own racing thoughts. You frantically searched for your clothes, scattered across the room. In a mad dash, you pulled on your panties and scrambled to find everything, while Trent hastily pulled on his trousers. The heat of the moment had turned into a frantic race against time. The sound of Jack’s arrival sent you both into a scramble, grabbing at clothes, fumbling with buttons, zipper, shirts pulled over heads, doing whatever you could to look convincingly casual. 

“Fuck, fuck!” you yelled in a whisper,  heart pounding as you clutched the sides of your shirt, tugging it over your head, trying to compose yourself. You shot Trent a panicked look.  Tears forming on your lash line. 

“Baby… Baby… we’ll be okay. You’re okay. C’mon.” He kissed your forehead before helping adjust your top. The slam of the door into the house had sent you and Trent into an even more panicked frenzy as you scrambled to not look like you just fucked. 

“My car,” Trent hissed almost to himself, eyes wide, realizing that leaving his car in the driveway was like leaving a neon sign that he was there.

“He’s going to see it…” You glanced at him, panicked. There was no hiding now. With your pulse racing, you tried to look as normal as possible, grabbing the closest thing you could find to play off a casual visit—a charger tangled near your bed. The two of you locked eyes, a silent agreement that this was your cover story.  You nodded back before you ran down the stairs just as Jack came through the other side of the house. Thank god the staircase up to your room was at the opposite end. You could hear Jack’s footsteps making his way towards you two as you made it downstairs. When he saw you and Trent his eyebrows raised, but he was relaxed enough. 

“Aye, mate, what’s up?” he asked, looking from Trent to you and back again. Jack looked at Trent with a faintly furrowed brow. Trent plastered on a relaxed smile, putting on his most casual tone.

“Yeah, good bro. Sorry, ah…left my phone charger here last time,” he replied smoothly, nodding toward the one you were now holding out like a lifeline. You forced a smile, trying to seem casual. Jack’s gaze lingered on you for a second, his expression skeptical. 

“So…” Jack’s tone held a playful curiosity. “You knew I wasn’t home?” Trent shrugged. 

“Yeah, bro, only a charger so I didn’t want to nag you about it,” he said, as you casually waving the charger like it was some grand prize he’d finally retrieve. “Y/N was just letting me grab it real quick.” You handed Trent the charger, feeling Jack’s gaze on both of you. Trent took it with a casual ‘Thanks,’ stuffing it into his pocket as if it had been his all along. You were mildly annoyed you were losing a charger but that was the least of your worries “Just thought I’d pop in, grab it, and head out.” Jack stared for a moment longer, lips curving into a smirk as he finally dropped his gaze. 

“Right… sound.” he chuckled.  Trent laughed, playing along, and you couldn’t help but join in, trying to mask your own nerves. Jack looked between you both, there was something in his eyes you couldn’t quite read but it was more confusion at the energy in the room than a hint of suspicion. But he just laughed, shrugging it off as Trent left. Trent still managed to give you a tiny, playful wink before slipping out, leaving your mind reeling.

“He’s so weird.” Jack teased you, still watching Trent get in his car. “Man makes millions and he’s pressed about a charger.” You let out a small, nervous laugh, hoping to play it cool. You felt Jack’s arm wrap around your shoulder in a lighthearted squeeze, and he shot you a teasing grin.

“Nah, he’s just… Trent… mindful, maybe?” you managed, trying to fill the silence and maybe convince both Jack and yourself. Jack smirked, shaking his head. Your heart was still racing but at least Trent had remained calm. 

“Yeah, well, you were probably just gassed you got his attention alone for five minutes.” He laughed, punching at your arm as he passed you. You forced yourself to chuckle, hoping the nervous energy vibrating through you wasn’t as obvious as it felt. Jack’s teasing had hit closer to home than he knew, and as you watched Trent’s car pull away from the driveway, you felt a mix of thrill and relief. The cover story might’ve worked, but the spark between you two? That was only getting harder to hide.

“Oh, please,” you replied, rolling your eyes, trying to sound nonchalant as you looked down, tugging at the hem of your shirt. You laughed, a little too loudly, hoping it came off as amused and not as a frantic release of tension.  Jack gave a little shrug, seemingly satisfied. 

“Just saying, you love Trenty.” He laughed teasingly but you didn’t. Not this time. “Y/N… I’m kidding. I know he’s your mate too. Relax. He came for a charger, innit. I’m joking. Sorry.” He looked at you apologetically, mildly confused why a tease about you have a crush on Trent hit so differently than before. He always poked fun but your vibe felt weird. He opted to just  let it roll off his back, moving on and turned, remaining oblivious as he headed to the kitchen. Meanwhile you were left with a stomach full of butterflies, lined with guilt  and a heart still pounding from the close call. Watching Trent drive away, you felt an undeniable thrill mixed with something deeper, something that had you feeling torn between excitement and culpability. The cover story had worked for now, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that keeping this secret would only get harder with time.

Sneaking around with Trent had quickly transformed into something more, something you felt deep in your bones. The thrill was undeniable, yet the way you kept finding yourself drawn back to him made it feel like it wasn't just about the thrill anymore. After Jack almost catching you, it just felt like you both actually thought what you were doing might’ve been worth it. Tonight felt like a step closer to something real, though the secrecy only intensified it. You'd told Jack you'd be staying over at Layla's, a lie that sat heavy, but the promise of a night with Trent made it worth it. When you arrived at his place, Trent's smile greeted you at the door, warm and familiar, and immediately, you felt all that tension melt away. He led you out to the back garden, where he had set up a cozy space just for the two of you. Blankets were draped over the outdoor couch on the patio, and the fire pit cast a gentle, golden glow. Jazz murmured softly from a speaker, blending perfectly with the low hum of the night, creating a sense of comfort that felt more intimate than you'd expected. The whole setup seemed to say: I wanted this to feel special. You nestled into the couch beside him, sharing the same blanket as the fire flickered, warming your faces. Trent leaned back, one arm stretched along the back of the couch, the other hand resting on your knee, and you felt yourself relaxing against him as if this was exactly where you belonged.

Although, it wasn't long though before he suggested a game of cards, his competitive spirit sparking in his eyes. You moved to sit cross-legged on the couch, turning to face him as you dealt the cards. Trent sat back, legs spread, confidence written across his face. But as the game went on and the tide turned in your favor, his expression shifted. He huffed when you won a hand, mumbling something about beginner's luck, but you could tell he was getting flustered. When you won again, his pout turned into a grin full of mischief.

"Nah, not having this. C'mon, there's no way you're this lucky," he teased, snatching the cards from your hand before pulling you into his lap, his hands snaking around your waist.

"Maybe I'm just better at it than you," you quipped, knowing it would get under his skin. He narrowed his eyes, pretending to look insulted but deep down you knew he hated hearing it, joke or not.

"Oh, so that's how it is, huh?" he murmured before leaning in, his teeth grazing your neck in a playful nibble, a cross between a kiss and bite as his hands gripped you tighter. You squirmed, laughing, trying to wriggle free, but he was stronger than you and wouldn't let you go.

"Just admit I won," you teased, breathless from laughing, glancing up at him with a triumphant smile.

"Not a chance," he whispered, voice low as his face hovered inches from yours, his eyes full of that look that made your pulse race. "The game's postponed. We'll settle it later." He said deciding he just wanted to be with you for the moment, no games. He let his hold on you loosen, and you rolled your eyes with a grin. 

"Whatever you want, baby." You murmured, your voice warm and teasing. He stilled, his gaze softening as he took you in, as if hearing you calling him ‘baby’ for the first time. Colloquially. The look in his eyes made your stomach flip, a moment of quiet that felt far more intimate than any kiss or touch. With a hum of satisfaction, he pulled you in closer, one hand tracing down your back.

"I like the sound of that." His fingers gently pressed into your skin, grounding you in that moment, and his other hand reached up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You stayed wrapped up together, letting the night carry you in the warmth of each other's presence. Hours passed without notice, the jazz lulling softly in the background as you nestled closer, feeling his hand rest securely around you. His touch was soft, comforting, as if to say he wasn't in any rush to let go. The stars were bright overhead, and the crackling flames cast shadows over his face. Trent looked at you with a rare openness, a softness that made your chest ache in the best way. He pressed a kiss to your hair, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on you. You rested your head against his shoulder, your legs curled over his lap, feeling the strength of his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. Every so often, he'd lean down, brushing his lips against your temple or whispering something sweet that made your heart stutter. It felt like you were existing in your own little world, a pocket of warmth and comfort that was just for the two of you. The night stretched on, but neither of you felt any rush to move or break the spell. This wasn't just a thrill, or a secret-you could feel the weight of something genuine growing between you, something you were both beginning to understand couldn't be hidden forever.

Settling into Trent’s bed that night felt surreal—soft sheets, plush pillows, and the faint scent of him in the air made it feel luxurious, almost like a dream. Yet, there was that small tug of something missing, a sense of feeling a bit out of place amidst the perfection. You liked your routine, your things, that’s all. This was well,  it was his bed, his room, his world. You didn’t quite realize how it showed until Trent, lying beside you with a gentle smile, noticed it.

“I can tell you’re uncomfortable. What’s up?” he asked, his gaze soft but curious. You shook your head with a half-hearted laugh, trying to dismiss it. 

“I’m not uncomfortable… I just…” you trailed off, unable to find the words. But he shook his head, unconvinced. 

“Nah, baby, c’mon,” he coaxed, “alright. Tell me what you usually do before bed.” He rolled over and looked at you with a smile. At that, you couldn’t help but grin. 

“Okay, so,” you started, tucking your hair behind your ear as you settled into explaining shuffling in the sheets.. “First thing’s first: I have to take off all my makeup. But that means using an oil cleanser first because it breaks everything down— mascara, everything. Then I use a second cleanser to really clean my skin. It’s called double cleansing.” You giggled as Trent nodded with a raised eyebrow, trying not to smile. 

“Double cleansing?” he echoed. “More than once seems like….” You widened your eyes silently asking to finish and continued on. 

“Trust me, it makes a difference because some of us don’t just wake up moisturize and go.” You teased and he rolled his eyes swiping his thumb over his cheekbone as if to show off his perfect skin. “But then I have to pat my face dry with specific towels or like disposable ones, you know? Like I can’t just be rubbing whatever to dry.” He leaned back, clearly amused but listening intently. You were pretty sure he had no idea what he’d gotten himself into. 

“Okay, what’s next?” he asked, a playful grin on his face.

“Then it’s skincare time,” you declared. “I use a toner first.” Trent nodded but you knew he probably didn’t know what that meant. “After that, I have a few serums. Then… ” You cooed but Trent interjected. 

“A few!?” Trent’s eyes widened slightly. It was becoming evidently more and more clear he did not have a sister. A part of you laughed that you never realized how deep that fact ran and then a part of you felt a bit relieved this was the first time he seemed to be hearing this. The idea that any girl that had come before you had yet to explain this to him. 

“Yeah then we move to like eye creams, moisturizers next,” you explained and continued to rattle on with more. He looked impressed and bewildered at the same time. 

“That’s… a lot,” he said, but there was a note of affection in his voice that made you smile.

“And we’re not even done!” you pointed out. “After the skincare, I do my hair care. Apply some products for hydration. Oh and silk pillowcases are a must for both skin and hair. They’re gentler and prevent breakage.” Trent’s eyes sparkled with humor, but he nodded as if taking mental notes. 

“Alright, so we’ve got skin and hair. Anything else?” He smirked almost assuming you were done. 

“Obviously,” you said, feigning indignation. “Then I have to set up my room. I spray a lavender sleep mist onto my bed to help me relax, and I take my nighttime supplements—magnesium, a sleep aid if I need it, maybe some collagen.” You explained.

“Supplements too?” he repeated, clearly finding all of this fascinating. He had routines but it was more for optimizing performance and in a way you were doing just the same.

“Yep. And then I need like wattterrrs,” you explained dragging out the word, feeling more animated as you talked. “And sometimes, if I’m feeling really stressed, I’ll do a short guided meditation before bed. Just five to ten minutes to clear my mind.” Trent was leaning forward now, his chin resting in his hands grinning ear to ear. Trent started laughing, eyes wide with disbelief. 

“That’s like 15 steps, baby!” he exclaimed, shaking his head as if you’d told him the most extravagant bedtime routine on earth and maybe you had in his mind. You laughed along, shrugging. 

“Hey, you asked! Besides, don’t pretend you’re not just as high maintenance with all your Byredo lotions over there.” You smirked, nodding toward the sleek row of bottles lined on the counter in the ensuite. He rolled his eyes, giving a mock scoff. 

“Alright, alright… but that’s… that’s quite the process,” he said, his voice laced with teasing affection. “You really do all that every night?” You crossed your arms, pretending to be offended. 

“I mean I try to every single night! It’s called self-care, T. There’s more out there than just what the club tells you to do. You should try my routine sometime.”  You giggled teasing him. You knew he took really good care of himself but when it came to beauty he was more relaxed. He laughed, the sound filling the room.

“I don’t think I could handle all of that.” He smirked.  You couldn’t help but smile, warmth blooming in your chest at the compliment. He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Even if he didn’t fully understand each step, he was there, listening and appreciating the lengths you went to for your own well-being. And that made you feel seen in a way that was hard to explain. Still smiling, he grabbed his phone, opening his notes app. “Okay, baby… give me the names and brands. Everything you need for sleeping here.” Your heart fluttered at the gesture, so thoughtful and unexpected. You began listing each product, and he typed them with an almost serious focus, nodding as if he were taking notes on a game plan; Slip pillow cases, Tata Harper cleansers, Maison Francis mists, a 14th Night Hair Elixir. 

“You don’t actually have to do all this,” you murmured, feeling almost shy. But his hand found yours, and he squeezed it gently.

“I want you to feel comfortable here,” he said softly, looking at you with that easy, open sincerity. “Besides, if it’s gonna make you sleep better, then it’s worth it. Keeps you in my bed.” He cheekily cooed. The thoughtfulness left you feeling a mix of warmth and gratitude, a sense of belonging that surprised you. And as much as you adored the idea of your favorite products sitting in his bathroom, what you loved even more was this—him, making space for you in his world, in his home. It also felt nice to know it’d be like a warning should any other girl be over. This was your marking your territory.

“Thank you,” you whispered, shifting closer to him, a smile playing on your lips. “Honestly, though… all I really need to feel at home is you.” He smiled, pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around you. 

“You’ve always felt like home to me.” He whispered back to you. Both of your admissions honest. The room was calm, the dim light casting soft shadows, and Trent’s fingers lazily traced patterns along your arm as you both settled into the cozy rhythm of conversation. The hum of street lights outside mixed with the soft rustling of sheets, making the entire moment feel even more intimate. Even after Trent finished noting down your list, he looked over with a smirk, still visibly amused by the whole process.  “So, am I missing anything? Or do we need to add a couple more things for this routine?”

“Oh, don’t even start,” you teased, giving him a playful nudge. “You wouldn’t understand—it’s just habitual; it’s so I can look pretty.” You batted your eyes at him. He laughed, tipping his head back, the sound warm and rich. 

“Well… you always look beautiful. Don’t think you need all this but, consider me converted if it makes you happy,” he said, miming a solemn vow. “But seriously, I’ll get it, alright? It’s not just about making you feel at home—it’s about you being at home here, whenever you want.” The sincerity in his words made your cheeks warm. For a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would feel like for this to be your regular night: no need to pack an overnight bag, no sneaking in and out, just… this, every night. You snuggled deeper into his embrace, the weight of his arm draped protectively around you making everything feel somehow complete. He noticed the pensive look on your face and tilted his head, studying you. “What’re you thinking about?”

“It’s just… weird, you know? I didn’t expect it to feel this comfortable here.” You hesitated, then smiled softly. “I thought it would feel… wrong.” He ran his hand gently up and down your back, pulling you even closer. It was wrong. It was wrong what you were doing to Jack, but this? This felt very right. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. But I also knew it’d be good. You and I have always been good. I want it to feel easy. Want you to feel like you don’t have to hide anything when we’re here or feel out of place here.” His voice was low, soothing, and he spoke as if he were letting you in on some quiet, long-held secret. He reached over, smoothing a strand of hair away from your face, fingers lingering as he looked into your eyes with that calm, unwavering gaze of his. “I know we’re figuring things out, and it might be complicated but it doesn’t have to be here. We’re good here,” he said softly, his hand resting gently on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, heart beating a little faster. 

“You really mean that?” you whispered, almost afraid of his answer.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied, his voice steady. “I think we’re pretty damn good together.” He smirked. For a moment, the silence between you was filled with unspoken words, a warmth passing between you that felt equal parts thrilling and comforting. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and smiled, nestling closer to him.

“Okay,” you murmured, settling fully into the pillow beside him, letting his steady breathing and the soft glow of his gaze ground you. The weight of his arm around you felt like an anchor, keeping you steady even as your mind whirled with thoughts of what this meant, of what you meant to him. He pulled you even closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

“So… really, pretty girl, any final steps in this ritual of yours? Any last ones?” he teased, breaking the quiet moment with a playful glint in his eyes. You rolled your eyes, laughing. 

“Alright, alright, since you’re so curious… And I’m generous, I guess I could share the one I never even leave home without.” You reached over, awkwardly leaning to grab your lip balm you’d already moved to the nightstand earlier to have on hand. It was a lip balm you brought with you everywhere, so tonight was no different. It was a rich Hermes lip balm. Nothing made your lips feel more well-hydrated, supple or better than this. You applied a layer to your own lips before leaning in, catching him with a soft kiss that tasted faintly of beeswax.

“There, now you’re officially a part of my routine,” you said, grinning. He shook his head, still chuckling, his fingers tracing along your jaw as he pulled you in for another kiss. 

“If this is how the routine ends, I’m in.” And in that moment, with the warmth of his arms around you, the soft glow of the lights outside, and the quiet thrill of realizing just how natural this all felt, you let yourself settle fully into the moment. Trent leaned over you and grabbed the sleek tube again. “You think the lads would take the mick if I rolled around using Hermes lip balm? Because this actually feels so good.” He asked you earnestly. You smirked knowing the answer would likely be yes but you just hummed. 

“Does it? Or was it my kiss?” You teased. “Nah, you could use it though. If you’d want you can take this one. I’ll get another one.” You cooed, pressing your lips to his again. Trent nodded agreeing. And he did. You let him take it the next day. But that night you fell to sleep happy, lips moisturized, and all the worries and doubts fading into the background, leaving just you and him, here together, finding home in each other.

As you bounded down the stairs, practically buzzing with excitement, you were already mentally at Trent’s, imagining the quiet moments you’d get to have again, just the two of you for another night. You’d been doing this a lot. Hiding it all from everyone but reveling in the time tucked together. Your heart raced as you went through the plan in your head—another night wrapped up in his arms, laughing, teasing, letting everything else fall away. But Jack’s voice cut through your daydreams, grounding you in an instant.

“Hey, you headed out? Who’s the lucky lad now?” he asked, his tone casual, but his eyes studying you closely. Your heart skipped, a blend of panic and guilt washing over you. You were sure he’d started to suspect something, especially with all the time you’d been spending away. Swallowing hard, you tried for a casual response. You didn’t think he’d even be considering Trent, but it was clear you were spending a lot of time ‘out’ with someone. No matter, lying to Jack… Jack, your big brother, your best friend; though you’d never tell Layla that, it all felt so wrong. 

“Yeah, but I don’t want to jinx it, you know? Not yet,” you said with a soft smile, hoping he’d leave it at that. But Jack wasn’t one to let things slide easily. He just hummed, giving you a long, knowing look. Then, with a gentleness that caught you off guard, he spoke again. 

“Hey…” he started, and you could hear the tenderness in his voice. “I’ve never seen you like this before.” He sympathetically smiled. 

“What do you mean?” You looked up at him, surprised

“I mean, there’s a light in you that I haven’t seen in a while. It’s good to see it again.” His eyes softened, a mix of pride and love filling his gaze. “I don’t know what this lad’s doing, but whatever it is, it’s bringing out the best in you. Look happier. Healthier.” A rush of emotion swelled in your chest, catching you off guard. The tears pricked at the corners of your eyes before you could stop them, and you looked away, trying to compose yourself. Jack noticed, stepping forward and wrapping you in one of those big, protective hugs he was so good at. You felt the familiar strength of his arms around you, his hand gently rubbing your back as he held you close. “I just want you happy,” he murmured into your hair, and the raw honesty in his voice almost broke you. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. I told Mum and Dad I’d look out for you, you know?” His voice was low, laced with the memories and promises you both had carried for years. You felt horrible. You were lying. Why were you lying? “I know I can be a pain sometimes, but… I don’t want you being with anyone that treats you like…” Jack tried to say it but he couldn’t. Jack was protective, loving but as communicative and close as you two were he just couldn’t stomach the idea of men treating you poorly so he couldn’t get the words out. “You deserve to be loved, to feel safe, that’s all.” Jack was the only place you felt safe since your mum passed. Your dad closed off and Jack stepped up. You shut your eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace seep into you. There were times when a hug from Jack felt like it held everything you missed, everything you longed for—comfort, security, family. It was a rare, grounding feeling, and one that made you ache with a strange blend of gratitude and sadness. Pulling back just enough to look at you, Jack brushed his hand over your cheek, a soft smile on his lips. “Maybe we go to Sefton Park sometime soon?” he suggested. “Just us, like old times. Feels like we’re missing each other lately. Never see you.” He smiled softly and it made your heart ache. The weight of his words settled in your chest, and you managed a nod, blinking back the tears that had filled your eyes. You felt his arm tighten around you for a second, and he chuckled softly. “And… maybe one day you can introduce me to this fella. He seems alright, if he’s making you this happy.” His words hit harder than you expected, the guilt flaring up in your chest as you forced a smile. 

“Yeah… maybe.” You sheepishly told him feeling nauseous at the idea that Jack knew this ‘fella’ better than he probably ever wanted to.  Jack gave you a gentle squeeze, reaching to teasingly pull on the ends of your hair like he used to when you were kids. 

“Alright, go on then. Don’t keep him waiting. Don’t fuck it up now.” He winked, letting you go, but the warmth in his eyes stayed with you. As you walked to the door, your heart hurt, the weight of your secret feeling heavier with each step. The excitement of seeing Trent was still there, humming in the back of your mind, but Jack’s words lingered. You felt torn, a part of you wanting to spill everything to your brother, to let him see the whole truth. But as you got outside, you forced yourself to push it all away. For now, you just wanted to hold onto the happiness Jack had seen in you. You wanted to be with Trent, to laugh, to feel that lightness and warmth without the shadow of guilt hanging over you. And even if it was only for a night, you let yourself believe that was enough.

When morning rolled in, you were tucked into the sheets, the soft weight of the comforter keeping you warm as you dozed off, half-conscious of Trent beside you. The light filtered in through the blinds, illuminating the room in a golden haze, and you felt a deep contentment, drifting in that hazy, relaxed state between sleep and wakefulness. But then you felt the bed shift as Trent sat up more. You looked around Trent’s room, feeling oddly out of place though, despite how many times you had now woken up tangled in his sheets, wrapped up in the ease and warmth he offered. Today, though, it felt different. Your lies seeping in the warmth.  The room, with its familiar scent of him, his things strewn about casually, almost felt like a stage where you were playing a part you couldn’t reveal. It was strange, bittersweet, this cozy little world of yours that felt so real here but that would eventually dissolve the moment you stepped back into your life with Jack.

“Hi, baby,” you murmured, blinking up at him, a sleepy smile spreading across your face trying to be present and not get lost in your thoughts. You scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his waist and nestling into him. He gave a soft chuckle, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Hi, pretty girl.” He leaned down, kissing the top of your head. “Hey, I need you to stay in bed for me for a bit, yeah?” he said, his tone gentle but somehow cautious. You raised an eyebrow, pulling back to look at him more closely, half-expecting it to be some cheeky invitation. 

“Stay in bed?” you teased, smiling as you placed a playful kiss on his chest. But then he spoke again, and you caught the slight edge in his voice.

“Yeah, erm… Jack’s popping over,” he said, watching you carefully. It was like a cold wave washed over you, jolting you fully awake. You immediately pushed yourself up, heart racing. 

“Wait—what?” You scrambled, trying to pull yourself together, suddenly very aware that you were in Trent’s bed, in his house, wearing only his shirt. Trent had forgotten Jack was swinging by today until he got the text moments ago reminding him. He had promised he’d donate a pair of signed boots or something for Jack’s company to auction off for charity and today… he was coming to pick them up. 

“I forgot. Honest. It’ll be alright though.” He tried to tell you. This could not keep happening. You couldn’t tell which situation was worse. Jack finding out the other day - Trent was fucking you at your house, but it wasn’t uncommon for him to be there… Or Jack finding out now - You weren’t having sex as he came over but there was zero reason for you to be at Trent’s this early. There would be no excuse. You couldn’t keep lying to Jack this was eating you up. One mildly redeeming thought popped into your head – thankfully, your car was in Trent’s garage out of sight. It was tucked away though because Trent told you, you needed to take better care of it and can’t just leave it out all the time but still your anxiety was spiking.  

“T, then I have to leave!” you hissed, frantically looking around for how you could possibly grab all your things in time. You could already feel the guilt bubbling up inside, imagining Jack’s reaction if he walked in and found you here. But Trent just reached out, gently tugging you back, his arms wrapping around you, grounding you.

“Hey, hey. Relax, yeah? Just stay here. He’s not coming up into my bed,” he murmured, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’ll be five minutes. He’s just coming by to pick something up. Quick, in and out. We’ll be okay.”  You looked up at him, worried, still tense. 

“Trent…” you began, but he only gave you a soft, reassuring smile, his eyes full of that easy confidence he always seemed to carry.

“Please. Just stay here. It’ll be okay,” he murmured, giving you those puppy-dog eyes that you could never say no to. You sighed, settling back into his embrace, heart still hammering as you heard Jack’s car pull up outside. To be fair, it made more sense for you to hide but it felt even more shameful to do. Part of you wanted to pull the covers over your head, to hide and pretend this wasn’t happening. Instead, you sat tensely in bed, listening as Trent slipped downstairs, his voice echoing faintly as he greeted Jack. You could hear their friendly banter, and it twisted your stomach with guilt. You knew it was wrong to keep this from Jack, but the thought of losing these moments with Trent was just as hard. 

You sat there, still, hands nervously fidgeting as you heard their voices drifting up from downstairs. Jack’s laughter mixed with Trent’s lighter chuckle, and it churned something inside you—a pang of guilt mixed with a longing for this to be simpler, to be something you could share without worry. But for now, the thrill of sneaking around was overshadowed by the weight of keeping this secret from Jack, from the one person who’d seen you through everything, helped you through everything. But still, hearing Jack’s voice below reminded you of the stakes, of how much you valued him, his trust, and how deeply you felt the need to protect this secret with Trent—even if it meant bending the truth. You picked at the hem of Trent’s shirt, which felt soft and familiar against your skin. There was something comforting in wearing a part of him, yet it also made everything feel painfully real. This wasn’t just some fling. You knew it every time you looked into Trent’s eyes, every time he pulled you into his arms like he didn’t want to let go. And then you heard the front door close,  there was silence for a little while until footsteps came up the stairs breaking it. You held your breath, half-wishing you could vanish into the walls. When Trent finally walked back in, you met his gaze, searching his face for some reassurance that you weren’t just imagining this, that he understood the complicated feelings swirling inside you. When Trent came back into the room, you’d moved to sit at the edge of the bed, his shirt still draped over you, your hands fidgeting nervously, his face softening as he noticed the tension in your posture. He gave you a soft smile, walking over and tilting your chin up so you’d meet his eyes.

“Hey. All good, yeah?” he murmured, his voice gentle. He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, and you let yourself breathe again, slowly, finding comfort in his touch. You nodded, exhaling as you managed a small smile, letting yourself relax into him. 

“I just… I hate lying to him, Trent. It feels so messed up.” You let out a shaky breath, relief mingling with guilt. Trent knelt down in front of you, his hands finding yours. 

“I know, and I get it,” he said softly, his thumbs tracing slow circles on your skin. “But it’s just us right now. And whatever this is,” he squeezed your hands, “I want it to be ours before it’s anyone else’s. Jack will understand that.” His words settled over you like a warm blanket, grounding you in the certainty you felt with him. The guilt didn’t completely vanish, but his reassurance made it bearable, made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could navigate this without losing what mattered. “You okay?” he asked, his gaze unwavering, full of that soft patience he always seemed to have for you. He came and sat on the bed with you. Keeping a cautious distance not wanting to overwhelm you but a gentle open hand close ready to hold yours if you wanted it.  You sat across from Trent, fingers nervously fidgeting in your lap, your gaze low as you struggled to put words to the feeling that had been building up inside.

 “I just… I feel so guilty, lying to Jack all the time. T, it’s fucked,” you whispered repeating it once over, barely able to meet Trent’s eyes. Trent’s expression softened, and he took your hands in his, his touch grounding. 

“I know,” he murmured, squeezing your hands gently. “I feel it too. But it’s like… I can’t let this go. I can’t let you go. It’s… “ He paused momentarily, grappling with this almost as much as you. “It’s hard to feel like we can have both.” He cooed. You looked up at him, eyes searching his for something, maybe an answer, but all you found was a mirrored sense of conflict. 

“I want this,” you admitted, your voice a little choked. “I want you. But I don’t know how to make it work. I feel like I’m walking a tightrope, terrified of falling in either direction.” You sniffled, trying to keep your emotions in check. He let out a quiet sigh, his gaze intense, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he lifted one of your hands to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“I know,” he whispered. “I don’t want to hide us either, but I also don’t want to put you in the middle.” The two of you sat there, wrapped in a silence that felt heavy, a quiet admission of the fears you shared but couldn’t quite voice. You could feel the ache in your chest intensify, a lump rising in your throat as the weight of it pressed on you. You blinked, feeling a tear slip free despite your attempts to keep it together. Trent’s gaze softened immediately. “Hey, baby” he murmured, reaching out to gently brush the tear from your cheek. “Are you alright?” he asked, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on your skin. “Talk to me. I know this is a lot.” You tried to smile, to reassure him, but it faltered, and instead, more tears followed, spilling over as you let out a shaky breath. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling raw, exposed. “It’s just… Jack’s all I have. And I’m terrified that by being with you, by hiding this from him, I’m going to somehow lose both of you.” Your voice broke, and you quickly wiped at your cheeks, embarrassed by your own vulnerability. Trent’s expression shifted, a deep sympathy filling his eyes as he moved closer, pulling you into his arms. He wrapped you up tightly, holding you like he could somehow protect you from all the things that felt like they were slipping away.

“You could never lose me,” he whispered, his voice steady, almost as if he was willing it to be true, willing it to ease the fear in your heart. You leaned into him, feeling his arms around you, his steady presence a balm to the ache that had been building. But the silence that followed his words weighed heavily, filled with all the things neither of you could find a way to say. You let out a shaky breath, burying your face in his shoulder, feeling both comforted and conflicted in his embrace. After a moment, Trent pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “You’re all I think about,” he said softly, a tenderness in his gaze that made your heart ache in a different way. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose, and I don’t want you to feel alone in this.” You nodded, but the weight of the situation lingered. A part of you wanted so badly to believe that his reassurance was enough, that you wouldn’t have to choose, that you could keep this connection with Trent without losing your relationship with Jack. But doubt gnawed at you, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were balancing on a thin line, one misstep away from losing it all. As if sensing your inner turmoil, Trent tilted your chin up, his gaze steady as he looked at you. “You’ll never lose me, no matter what happens” he repeated softly, his words a gentle promise. But something about the quiet that followed felt almost uncertain, as if he, too, knew how fragile everything was. Neither of you knew what would come next, and as he held you, the silence stretched, filled with both comfort and unspoken fears.In that moment, you held on tighter, hoping it would be enough to keep things from unraveling.

“Okay.” You nodded, managing a small smile as you squeezed his hands back. He smiled, his eyes brightening as he pulled you to your feet and into his arms. 

“Always, always, always” he murmured against your hair, between kisses, holding you close as you melted into him. You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in his arms, finding strength in his steady heartbeat, letting yourself believe that somehow, everything would work out. While your brain was spiraling, Trent’s heart hurt just the same. He felt like a scumbag for lying to Jack, for being with you. But he also felt like for the first time he was properly falling for you, getting to know you in a way he’d always longed for.  He couldn’t just throw it all away now, now that  he had a taste. He was putting up a good front though holding you, telling you it was fine. It was hard, but fine, but he wasn’t sure if he wasn’t saying that to himself even more. He wasn’t sure he could stomach a fall out with you or Jack. 

One afternoon after things stayed as they were, Trent casually reached into his pocket, pulling out the sleek little tube of lip balm, twisting it open with the practiced ease of someone who’d clearly used it more than a few times. He applied a quick swipe to his lips, completely unaware of the attention it was drawing. Noah noticed first, his brows raising in surprise before he nudged Jack, nodding subtly toward Trent. Jack caught sight of the lip balm and immediately burst into laughter. 

“Bro…” he said, still chuckling, “pretty sure my sister uses that shit.”

“Yeah? What about it?” Trent glanced over, unbothered. Noah shook his head, grinning. 

“Mate, good thing you’ve got that contract lined up. What’re you doing spending pounds on… what is that? Lipstick? ‘Cause it isn’t Nivia innit?” he teased, exaggerating. Trent rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“First off, it’s a balm. Second, it’s moisturizing, and it’s not shiny or anything, so you lot can calm down.” Noah and Jack exchanged a look, both stifling laughs. 

“Alright, alright, Pretty Boy,” Jack teased, holding up his hands in surrender. 

“Just saying, Y/N buying Hermes chapstick is one thing… You? That’s mad.” Noah laughed. Unphased, Trent shrugged, narrowing his gaze on him.

“You ever see Y/N’s lips looking dry?” He held up the balm, grinning. Noah shook his head.  

“Yeah, but I’m not exactly looking, am I?” Noah chuckled, clearly having fun with it. Trent just shrugged again, refusing to give them the satisfaction of riling him up. 

“Just saying,” he replied smoothly. “You can keep laughing, but I’m the one not walking around with dry lips. Yours could use a little help, mate,” he joked, nodding toward Noah, who chuckled. Jack shook his head, still laughing. 

“Alright, fair play,” Noah shot back, grinning. “But careful, next thing you’ll be raiding her entire collection.” Jack just laughed, shaking his head. 

“Honestly, I can’t believe you’re actually using the same shit as my sister.” Jack said. Trent smirked, tucking the balm back into his pocket with a satisfied look. 

“Gotta keep up, don’t I?” he replied, unbothered. “She knows what she’s doing.” Noah and Jack looked at each other knowingly queuing up a joke. Trent rolled his eyes, already sensing the teasing wouldn’t let up anytime soon. But he leaned back on the couch with a smirk thinking of you and your lips.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 7 - Girl of The Season xx

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere Akatsuki Headcanons (Platonic)

❝ — 🍥 lady l: something I thought about for a while and decided to do it now. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️🖤

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of death, yandere themes, stalking and jealousy.

❝🍥pairing: platonic yandere!akatsuki x gender neutral!reader.

Becoming part of Akatsuki was an important decision and one you knew shouldn't be made lightly. They were wanted and dangerous criminals. Once you decided to join, there would be no going back.

You were not innocent, you had already killed and committed some minor crimes and you were a well-trained ninja. That's why you decided to join Akatsuki. You just didn't know that your life would turn out completely different than you initially thought it would.

Pain was a little wary of allowing you to join Akatsuki, as not only did you not have a little-known reputation but there was something about you that unnerved him. That attracts him. But he decided to agree, after talking to Konan.

That's how you joined the world's most wanted ninja, Akatsuki and became their obsession.

Pain is the leader of Akatsuki and has a god complex. He is serious and distant, rarely approaching other members except to give him missions or orders. However, when he is Nagato he is totally different. Kind and shy. You and Konan are the only people who really know him as Nagato.

Regardless of your identity, he is very protective of you. He sees you as something good, as one of the few remnants of goodness, even if you are a criminal, you are still better than everyone. Besides being quite possessive of you. He wants to become a God and he will, but he sees no point in becoming one if you are not by his side.

Konan possessed a calmness, an admirable and frightening control. She has enviable self-control and this is visible in the way she deals with you. She is very calm around you, offering a kind smile and seeking any form of affection she can get from you.

She is desperate for affection, but she will never admit it. Konan is very intelligent and knows how to manipulate you. Stoic and cold-blooded, she will kill anyone who gets in her way, in your life other than herself and the other members. She takes whatever time she can have by your side.

Tobi has lost a lot during his life and these losses have shaped him into who he is today. He never expected to get attached to someone again, to love someone else after being deprived of someone he loved. This made him paranoid and very overprotective of you. Obito already lost someone he loved once, he won't lose you too.

He is introverted, however, and tries to avoid social interactions with the other Akatsuki members as much as possible, but with you, he is more sociable. Tobi is very possessive and always has one eye on you, especially when you are around the other members.

Itachi is calm and reserved, his feelings for you, the obsession he harbors, are very well hidden behind his mask. Not even the other members know Itachi very well, as he is enigmatic and mysterious. He deals with you the same way he does with everyone else, calmly and without showing much of how he feels. This makes you more distant.

However, he is not a really bad person. He did bad things, things he will regret. He sees a second chance in you, he trusts his intuition and you a lot. Itachi has a strong sense of empathy towards you and he is the one who notices the most if you are uncomfortable or upset about something, usually offering you comfort. He is possessive, however, because he has already lost a lot and wants your attention to him.

Kisame is a tailless tailed beast, a shark in humanoid form and he has strong predator instincts. He is very aggressive and can often be dominated by his bloodlust and desire for death, but he knows how to control himself when he wants to or when ordered to do so. You are one of the few people who can convince him to have mercy.

He's very perceptive, though. Kisame is always on alert and is aware of any danger and his first reaction is to take you away from danger. He is very protective and is also great at analyzing people and will know when you are bad.

Kakuzu only cares about money and himself, an avaricious and greedy man. He used to be like that until you joined Akatsuki and he started to care about you, but like a possession. Something that belonged to him, something to be controlled.

He often says that you can only trust him and money, the only two things you can rely on. Kakuzu is very attached to you and cares in his own way. He has a violent temper and becomes obsessed easily and you are his biggest obsession. He gets jealous very easily and reacts harshly to it.

Zetsu is a duality and only a manipulation, a difficult one to read and understand. White Zetsu is the easiest to deal with, he is playful and carefree, and he loves to tease others. He is very calm and loves to have fun with you, but he is very protective of you and although he doesn't usually use violence, he will.

Black Zetsu is the real problem. He is very intelligent and is the real brain behind many plans, serious and experienced. He is a great manipulator, appearing trustworthy and loyal, but his true loyalty is unknown to you. He is very possessive and a born stalker and will kill anyone who gets too close to you. He gets into several conflicts with White Zetsu because of this.

Deidara is extremely proud and fully believes that the greatest art form is destruction. He does not accept defeat and will always seek revenge. He is very reckless and even impulsive, often acting without thinking and that includes you. But he is not stupid, but rather calculating.

He is easily jealous and no one can insult you around him, as he will go crazy and be willing to sacrifice even himself to destroy the offender. Deidara protects you fiercely and his possessiveness leads him to states of madness that only you or Sasori can control. His favorite activity is the art of explosion with you.

Sasori is devoid of any human emotion, has no feelings of affection and is even considered inhuman. He doesn't feel anything, he never cared about anyone or anything, until he met you. Cold and distant, Sasori just watches from afar, preferring to keep his attention on his puppets.

You made him feel something for the first time in years, someone he could finally have the love he always wanted as a child. Sasori, although distant, still stays close to you when it suits him. He became possessive, even threatening the other Akatsuki members over you. He doesn't care about anything or anyone except you. And he won't let you be taken from him. Even if he has to turn you into a puppet. You will stay together.

Hidan has no respect for anything or anyone, insulting everything and everyone that suits him. Not even his own leader is safe from his insults, considering he doesn't respect him at all. Although a religious ninja, Hidan acts in a manner completely contrary to a religious person. He kills everything and everyone without any remorse.

He is quite easygoing towards you, his insults are never directed at you and he will eviscerate anyone who dares to insult you. Hidan is a sadist, finding pleasure in causing pain and killing his victims in the most painful way possible. He definitely wants to teach you how to be like him.

Akatsuki became more united when you joined and although there will always be conflicts between them, you became the missing piece. Pain would never let you leave, not when you were true peace. You're stuck with them forever.

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

When Paths Diverge - Y.JH

💔Who; Yoon Jeonghan x female reader 💔What; Angst. Established relationship. Break up. Vampires. 💔Wordcount; 2.2k 💔Warnings; Honestly, Jeonghan is not exactly a good person. Though it's not really explored in this. Reader realises that their relationship is not healthy and stands up for herself! References to turning/loss of humanity but no actual descriptions of that. I don't think there's actually anything specific to warn about, but let me know if I'm wrong.

Summary; After decades together, after everything you've been through, you can't believe that this is all it takes for the rose-tinted glasses to slip from your eyes and allow you to see the truth of Yoon Jeonghan, the man you thought you would spend eternity with.

-2024 Masterlist-

AN- I have no idea where this whole idea came from, it just hit me and it was supposed to be more of a quick flashback scene in a fic about them meeting in the future but instead this happened. It's very different to anything I've written in a long time so I hope it's okay. Big thank you to @kwanisms for helping me with the header by supplying Jeonghan pics! 💖

"You are not the person I fell in love with anymore." It's said so simply, so effortlessly, like he's rehearsed those words a thousand times in front of the mirror. Perhaps he has. You wouldn't put it past Jeonghan and his neverending need to be seen as nothing short of perfection. "You are nothing like the woman I fell in love with those years ago."

"You can't seriously be saying that." You respond disbelievingly.

"I am. You have changed, my dear, and not for the better."

"Of course, I've changed, Jeonghan! It's been decades since we met and you turned me in that time! Of course, I've changed!"

"I have not."

"Maybe that's the problem, Jeonghan. Your inability to make even the slightest changes to yourself and expect the world to bend and mould around the shape of you." You scoff and shake your head while getting up from the couch. He remains seated in the same formal upright posture he always does. Unchanged in all his centuries of life. You had given up your humanity for him, left everything behind for him, yet he can't even relax his posture even once. It isn't the first time you've noticed it but it is the first time you've ever spoken it aloud, spurred on by his own hurtful words. "Humans are supposed to change as we grow, Jeonghan."

"We are not human any longer. I cannot even remember how it feels to be human. Maybe that is the cause of our differences, that you can still recall those memories." He too gets up and straightens his already neat shirt as his always-so-level gaze meets your upset one.

While it usually settles you to see him so calm regardless of circumstance, always so in control and the voice of reason, now it just hurts. Even now, during what your entire being knows is the end of your decades-long romance, Jeonghan's expression shows no sign of feeling, well… anything.

Shortly, you try to recall a time when he let his truth show beside the gentle little smiles he's treated you to over the years, yet you can't recall a single memory. You don't know how you've never realised before how much that hurts.

Suddenly, you're struck with the thought that perhaps, you never truly knew Yoon Jeonghan. You had thought that you were his exception, the only person he allowed to see the man behind the mask, yet now you're realising that he has kept even you at arm's length even when you were wrapped up in them and tucked safely against his chest. You knew, still know, that he cares for you in his own way. You're just now realising that it's not enough and never was.

"Did you think I would become emotionless like you these decades? Is that why you agreed to turn me in the first place? To remove my physical humanity and hope the rest would follow?" Your heart breaks a little more when he just stares at you. There may be no sign of a response from him but Jeonghan is quick-witted and always has a retort, has never once missed the chance to correct someone. His lack of answer is louder than his words could ever be. "Right." You take a deep steadying breath, making his gaze dart down shortly to your expanding chest before he looks back at you.

You used to think he found your quirk of taking unneeded breaths amusing, or perhaps cute, but now you know the truth; he doesn't look at your chest fond of the sign of the human habit remaining. But in disdain. He's been waiting for you to drop all your links to humanity yet you refuse. Humanity may not be a very elegant species and full of flaws, but as a whole, they're good, have morals and work hard to stick to them. But vampires? Well, after so long living, morals seem to become a rather grey area for them so you've seen. You always thought Jeonghan was a rare exception to that, but you know you've overlooked more than you should've in the name of love. Not in his actions towards you but to other humans. He's always put himself above humans and so long as you continue to keep your little shreds of humanity in your chest, he'll always see himself as above you too.

"I guess I'll pack up and leave." You declare, already walking to your shared bedroom. You don't stop to look around it, take it in for one last time. You already know what you'll see. Signs of the both of you, old mixed with new, him and you. A clear distinction you had stubbornly refused to see for the truth of what is it, two separates that can't make a whole. Not when your edges have been formed in your humanity and the weaker points smoothed over by Jeonghan's hands to fit against his own edges, yet you still have too many sharp points he could never flatten out. You hadn't even realised he was trying to.

"Just like that?" He questions, following you smoothly and watching as you pull out the large case from under the bed, which usually only shows up when he takes the pair of you away on an expensive luxurious holiday somewhere cold in summer. To escape the sun blistering the sensitive vampiric skin covering your bodies. You had never seen him blister and had never experienced it yourself either as Jeonghan has always swept you both away at the first sign of the sun's heat but you trusted his words entirely. Trusted him.

It won't be until the coming summer that you realise that he hadn't been entirely truthful, yes a vampire's skin is much more sensitive to the sun's rays, but it's much less instantaneous than he had made out. The newfound knowledge will make you wonder what else he hadn't been honest about, and send you on a task to relearn everything you know about vampirism, and the world in general.

But now.

"Are you expecting me to grovel and beg for you to change your mind and allow me to remain by your side?" You huff, shoving items into the case, not everything you own because frankly, you don't care for all the silks and jewels. That's all Jeonghan, wanting you both to always be donned in the best money can buy. "Since when have I begged for anything, Jeonghan?"

"Never."

"Then I haven't changed as you claim."

"And you will not?" It's the first time he's outright about his wants here. It makes you pause your harsh packing to look over at him incredulously. "You said that you love me, you tell me every day, my dear, yet you will not even try to tempt me to open my arms again with an offer of change?"

"You think I am the one who should change here? Jeonghan, I gave up my humanity for you, I gave up my family, my friends, my life, everything for you and you think I need to do more to prove my devotion to you?"

"Is that not what love is? Proving one's devotion?"

"Then where are your attempts to prove your own to me?" You point out. "Over the course of this conversation, I've come to the rather jarring and honestly heartbreaking realisation that you have not once ever changed for my sake. You've spent decades manipulating my very heart to your own whims yet you remain as stone-hearted as ever. Unmouldable. I wish I knew that when we met, that you truly are just the empty shell of a being that man accused you of being. Thinking about it, maybe I should've picked him that night."

"That man is a vile excuse for a vampire."

"Is he?" You think of the beautiful tall man from all those decades ago. He hadn't seemed very vampiric to you at the time and even less so now that you think back on it. He seemed more, human. More like you. "I should've taken his hand and let him save me from you."

"Save you?" Jeonghan repeats softly. The first sign in this ordeal that he isn't entirely apathetic. "You have never needed saving from me, I have never done a thing to hurt you, nor will I."

"Not physically at least."

"There is no other way that matters."

"The fact you can say that and truly mean it, is perhaps the scariest I've ever seen you, Jeonghan."

"I do not understand."

"And that makes it worse." You turn and get back to your packing. "But at least I finally know you're capable of admitting to weakness."

"You are my weakness." That makes you pause again, though you don't turn to him. "I do not want you to leave."

"I don't want to either, not really, but I can't stay if nothing will change, if you won't change, Jeonghan. I deserve more than that. You always say that I deserve the best, that you'd give me every star in the sky if I wanted them to hold in my hands, but you won't even change your own centuries-old, outdated habits and thoughts for me." You pack slower this time, not because you're trying to put it off, you know your departure from the home you can no longer call your own is inevitable. You're moving slower because it's finally starting to catch up with you and bloom saltwater in your eyes. You're trying to stop it from falling any faster and hoping your own movements will slow the descent at least until you are out of the door. It will only hurt worse to be the only one crying again when he should be crying with you. But you know he won't. He never has.

"I do not know if I can do that, my love."

"Then I can't stay. If you ever manage, I'm sure you will find a way to let me know."

"You really are leaving? With no intention of seeing me again?"

"Not unless you change. I can't be the only one trying to be a better version of myself for the other." You shove a final jumper into the case and zip it up. You don't really have anything sentimental to keep, it all reminds you of Jeonghan and when he had turned you, he convinced you to let go of all reminders of your past as it would only hurt too much. You had believed him at the time, had full faith and hadn't taken a single memento of your family or human life. Though now you just think he was trying to make you lose all ties to your humanity to change you at your core, not to protect your delicate heart.

"Where will you go?" He asks, stopping you from leaving the bedroom by standing in the doorway and putting a hand on your arm. You brush him off though don't look at him, you can't.

If you did, you would've seen the pain starting to seep into his eyes.

"A hotel, I have enough money to do that until I decide where to make a home for myself."

"You will not go far, will you? I cannot bear the thought of such a distance between us."

"So I should suffer for you instead?"

"No."

"Then let me go without a fuss, you owe me that much at least."

Jeonghan is quiet for long enough that you almost lift your lowered damp gaze to look at him, yet he speaks just in time to prevent you from doing so. He hadn't known that you were about to look up and see real emotion in his eyes for the first time, that you would've seen his heartbreak and immediately reconsidered leaving. If he had known, he would've stayed quiet longer and let you see him for the first time. But he didn't know, so he opened his mouth and spoke quietly. "I owe you a lot more, I am starting to understand that now." He admits. "I will not stop you again, just know that I will be here waiting for you to come back. I shall do everything I can to change myself but this is our home, my love, and it will remain this way ready to welcome you back when I discover out how to prove myself to you. You can change it however you like when you return, but until then, it shall remain this way."

"Don't do that." You frown. "I won't want to return to this."

"I thought you love our home?"

"I do now, but I won't then. To find it unchanged will just remind me of the past. Let it change with you, reflect you and if you find me one day and bring me back, I can add pieces of me back into it again."

"If that is what you want." You nod and adjust your grip on your case. "I love you, I wish it was enough."

"Me too, Jeonghan." Your lips press together tightly to prevent more words from spilling from them in amongst the sobs threatening to bubble out into the thick air between you, and you walk past him the second he steps aside.

The front door of the house is barely closed behind you before the tears start to flow. You stop to take a shuddering wet gasp before rushing to your car to throw the case into the back and drive.

You don't know where you're going, you don't know what will happen but you hope with everything in you that one day, you'll find yourself back on the same path as Jeonghan and meet a man changed for the better.

A/N- Don't be shy to let me know what you think! As I said in my author note at the top, I don't really write stuff like this, all serious angsty type things but if I know people like it, I will try to write more in the future!

[the-broken-truth]

Leaving The Web [Part 5 - Finale] - Platonic Yandere Miguel O'Hara w/ Daughter Symbiote Spider Reader

Summary: The situation has escalated to a critical point. You and Venom have grown tired of Miguel's meddling and are prepared to confront him decisively. A confrontation ensues between Venom and Miguel, but the question remains: can the symbiote control its murderous impulses, or will it result in the loss of the Spider-Society's leader?

The Leader of the Spider-Society was taken aback by the thunderous footsteps approaching him. Two massive arms, locked together, were raised high in the air with a menacing snarl. The arms came crashing down at an alarming speed, causing Miguel to swiftly dodge out of the way. The impact of the components caused the concrete roof to crack, but it did not break. Miguel was then faced with Venom, who let out a loud roar before pursuing him with his claws locked in position. Miguel managed to escape by jumping off the building and swinging away using his red webs. Venom followed closely behind, utilizing his black webs to keep up.

"Be careful, V, I have a feeling that Miguel is going to try to lead us o the Portal where he came from." [Name] said from the depths of Venom's mind.

"We know, we're counting on it. We have a plan in case he brings us there and we hope he leads us to where he comes from. Hopefully, there's an audience of Spider-People, watching their leader get beaten by the beings he abandoned." Venom told [Name] with a smile, causing his host to smile at the thought of beating Miguel in front of his people, showing them not to approach herself or Venom.

Miguel swung until he reached the top of another building - where a portal to Earth-928 was waiting - soon enough Venom arrived at the top of the building and glared at Miguel with a smile on his face; that smile scared Miguel but he wasn't going to show it.

"Venom, this is your last chance - come with me peacefully or I will take you and [Name] back home by force." Miguel threatened but Venom started laughing with his long tongue waving around like a whip before it slithered back into his mouth and he spoke.

"You really think you can scare us? We have been alone for the longest time, Miguel, and now we have a home here; the fact you can't understand how much damage you have done to us shows how pathetic of a Father you really are. This is your last chance - leave our universe and never come back...or we shall break you and throw you back in that portal." Venom warned as he pointed at Miguel who shook his head and started running at the large symbiote and jumped to kick Venom in his face, but he grabbed Miguel's leg and started smashing him into the ground over and over again before throwing him off of the roof and chased after him.

Miguel lifted his hand to shoot a web but the air in his lungs was knocked out when Venom's Feet plowed into his stomach, ending the 2 of them crashing into the ground, Venom stomped on Miguel before he jumped off him and landed in a crouch. Miguel groaned as he turned on his stomach and pushed himself off the ground before weakly standing and looking at Venom, who rose to his full height once again; Miguel wiped the blood leaking from his mouth as he looked at the large creature.

"Mija...please...don't let Venom control you..." Miguel tired but his pleads were met with a punch to his stomach and another to his face that sent him flying into a cafe window, causing the people who shriek in horror as Miguel crashed into the wall behind the counter. Miguel tried to move but a black web connected with his chest and yanked him out of the wall, out of the building, and back onto the street before he was punched upward; Miguel went flying until he landed on the surface of a flat roof, groaning in pain as rips in his suit tried to reform themselves but there was a malfunction in his suit that prevented them from closing - his mask faded once again and he coughed up blood once again as Venom jumped up to the top and grabbed Miguel from behind and lifted him off the ground, forcing him to face him.

"[Name]... Mija... Please, come back to me..." Miguel said in his weak voice as he lifted his hand to try and touch Venom's face but the face of Venom moved away from his touch and revealed [Name's] angered face. "Mija... Please...come home."

"How long is it going to take before it sinks in? We. Am. HOME! Venom and I belong here and I won't let you take us away from the home we have built with the people who care for us - people who love us; sure I love and miss the others but I love being here more with Venom. Now, your body can barely move, your suit is destroyed and I will send you back home but the next time you come here; your brain will end up in our stomach." [Name] said as the mask reformed on [Name's] Face to the Face of Venom as the massive symbiote jumped from building to build until they reached the top of the building where the portal was, Venom looked at Miguel's broken body before tossing him in the portal, causing the portal to close behind Miguel. Venom exhaled and returned control to [Name], causing his body to get smaller to Spider-Woman's Body.

"You okay, V?" [Name] asked.

"I should be asking you that. You went through a lot before You and Me became We but now that we are the way we are and we shared memories. [Name], I am grateful for what you said, thank you, my friend." Venom said.

"You're my best friend, V, thanks for dealing with Miguel. I really needed that." [Name] said as she walked over to the edge of the building and swung away, "So, what do you want to have for dinner tonight?"

"I'll let you pick," Venom said.

"Then I want baked chicken and salad." [Name] smirked.

"NO SALAD! I HATE THAT!" Venom said.

"We need to keep the body healthy; we'll have chocolate for dessert." [Name] said.

"Fine!" Venom groaned.

With a chuckle, [Name] and Venom swung off into the sunset of their world, their universe, without Miguel O'Hara.

[artisplatters]

GENLOSS ANALYSIS TIME

Spoilers ahead, go watch the vid if you havent already

Also I'm writing this as I'm watching it so don't mind any inconsistancies too badly

Episode 1: Spirit of the Cabin

So right off the bat we have confirmation that the ingredients Ran was being made to cook (and Charlie being made to eat) are actually various organs and flesh bits.

Actually, maybe this was already confirmed but I don't remember there being flash-backs in the original, but then again i only learned how to move frame-by-frame recently (like... today)

And then that explains Charlie's hesitance in eating the dish! He's still under mind control but its some crazy cool resistance that he was able to put it off as long as he did.

And when Ran's mask is flashing we now can hear soundbits from later on in the experiments, from whenever he's not under control, an audio testament that they've been through this multiple times like a loop. Which yeah, we already were told that when the mask lights its because he's receiving memories again, but we (or at least, I) didn't know the memories were of the exact events shown in the episodes.

My only question at the moment in regard to that is that, everyone killed was definitely, irl, actually for-real killed (in universe), so how are they brought back to do it again? Clones? Future resuscitation tech?Are they just conscious corpses being puppeted around like some sorta sick marionette show?

And Sneeg, oh Sneeg, the way he was made to stand so rigidly while Ran was asleep, couldn't even move or sit, just looking around frantically. I wonder if he was made to feel like it had actually been 8 hours. I wouldn't put it past Showfall Media.

Episode 2: The Mastermind of the Warehouse

So, it seems like they cut out the Mastermind's little bit of a freakout when he gave Ran "a little bit of juice" that almost killed them, they also made it look like Ran's recovery from it was much quicker. Makes me curious, but I guess they don't want any of the audience thinking the "villain" is just as scared and unwilling as the heroes yet.

Though with how blunt they are with the other murderous torturous stuff, I'm surprised thats one of the things they chose to cover up.

Speaking of which, the surgery section.

God, the surgery section.

Also sped through a bit, understandably, but that cut away to the security camera where he's just screaming in agony.

It hits way harder like that oh my god. Oh my fucking god.

Charlie is an absolutely insane actor.

Onto the Carousel! Which, by the way, the animation blips have been so fun and they are so well done, amazing work on the animation team's part.

OHHH WHEN SNEEG GETS HIS HAT BACK HE GETS FLASHBACKS TO THE CABIN

You see him freak out at remembering but him trying to keep his composure, UGH such good acting. And him saying he needed to go to the bathroom so he can try to escape, still can't believe that almost worked.

But when they catch him with the mask? So much fucking creepier somehow. Everything went dead silent and froze, and even though his body is compliant you can see the anger and fear in his mind. Also felt like that lasted longer than before.

And then how everyone just snaps back and gets into "acting" again, also super fucking creepy. Insanely well executed.

now, skipping forward to after Nikki's death, when Ran goes through the door after the Mastermind... FACTORY RESET? It says factory reset? How far back does that take Ran? They seem to still remember what they had been through so what exactly is it resetting?

I dont remember the slimetowel segment at all, I feel like it was added. Though that would be the nature of generation loss, not being able to tell what was added and taken away.

Episode 3: The Choice

Oh boy here we are again

The transition being in the style of one of those "classified document" videos is a great touch, cuz it does go "off-script" here supposedly, though we all know thats not the actual case.

Ran trying to talk to the camera people still breaks my heart, they're not in control all they can do is film.

Also, can't believe I ever thought Hetch was a good guy after hearing "You aren't supposed to leave yet" and then the blatant lie that everyone is still alive. Like I never trusted him to begin with but he seemed about as trustworthy as everyone else thats under control.

The way Hetch talks about the company makes it sound like its some sort of eldritch entity, rather than a business conglomerate. And who's to say it isn't, with how it's "repurposed" and "recycled" literal human beings, turning them into brainless automatons. Also the cut to Charlie's stream startled me lol.

Aw man, the music/heartbeat/ringing drowning out Charlie's voice after they find Hetch and get the map. Incredible way of showing Ran's mental shock.

Ȩ̵̏p̵̬͊ị̶̼̋s̷̺͝ö̶̪́̒d̷̹͉̓̑ȇ̶͚͓̀ ̷̤͛͝3̶̨̥̾:̶̥̌ ̵̱̫̔Ṭ̶̺́h̴͔͑̈́ḙ̸̻̅ ̵̱̉̂H̸̞̄e̶̬̠̎͐ṟ̸̜́̾o̶̳͊͝

Ough

Still hurts

The change I've noticed here is that we start zoomed in on Ran's face, whereas I think before we could see the whole scene from the start, Hetch, all of it.

And WOAH, the flashes of the photos before the announcement? Are those all photos of them when they were kids? thats such an amazingly disturbing detail.

Another disturbing detail, the zoom-in and silence following the box closing, showing all the blood pouring out. Horrifying. Not even any music or anything while the credits roll. Really lets the audience sit in what just happened.

The Therapy Sequence

I'm calling it the Therapy Sequence based on how the dialogue sounds, though it very much could be psychology or something else.

This Ms. Roads Character is new, I believe

She's been having "vivid, scary dreams" and says to call her Zero, which ha ha pun but also kinda sad. Zero Roads is a kind of hopeless sounding name.

And then, in the unlisted vid, its the Founder giving us the tape of the social experiments.

"Its your experiments now"

I hope people who are able to afford to buy the tapes will share it's contents with the rest of the community. "Communication is Key" and yada yada.

I have no doubts that there's more secrets to be found within.

Final Notes

I'm so fucking proud of Ranboo, oh my god

This story that they're weaving continues to amaze and inspire me, its so incredible that he's gotten to create this.

I'm so excited for what happens next.

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Rewind, Remix, & Replay Jay & Kim 5x11 

This is the to the rest of the series.

I recently mentioned that I had found a fic with the pairing of Kim and Jay. I didn’t like it at first but the more I watched the show the more I felt like they missed an opportunity for a very healthy relationship. This is a series that starts at 5x11 of how I think their relationship would have progressed had it been done.  

I’m writing this as I watch the episodes. I’m almost done with season 5 and have most of that planned out already. This season and the ones to follow are completely new to me so this should be as fun as it is challenging. So everyone that wants to jump on for the adventure- here we go! 

Kim is ready to get the hell out of dodge. Her emotions were whirling uncomfortably in her stomach. She had thought that she had been doing the right thing. She was firm and let Sienna know what she had to do to keep out of trouble. In reality?  

She had got her CI killed. 

All her dreams, of being a chief, making her life better. Kim had killed those too. Even with Hailey's support, Kim was still reeling with her decision-making abilities. How was she supposed to know when to go by the book and when to protect her CIs at the expense of the case? And how did everyone else on the team seem to do it so easily? Kim felt like she was being ripped apart at the seams. 

She stopped when she saw Jay working on his computer. He had been on desk duty over the last month since the blow-up with his CI. Kim had heard he had been sleeping with her. Voight had been pissed and there was clearly a loss of trust between him and Halstead. Kim felt for him, he had been through a lot the last year. Everyone on the team had been silent about it but they knew he was having a PTSD flare-up. 

Kim was bidding him goodbye as she passed his desk. Jay returned the sentiment as he stood up gathering his things and reaching for his jacket. Kim paused and the decision came easily to her. She turned back to him, and he raised his eyebrows in question. Kim noticed the exhaustion painted all over his face when he didn’t have the chance to mask it. 

She didn’t hesitate as she pulled Jay into a hug. A real hug, not one of those halved-assed quick squeezes that some people call hugs. Jay froze jacket still hanging from his fingertips. Kim was a warm heat against him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his waist; cheek pressed against his chest. Most people would have let go with the period the hug wasn’t reciprocated. Kim was a nurturer and more stubborn in her ways than most.  

Jay felt his throat clog up. It had been a long time since he had any sort of friendly physical touch from someone who didn’t want something from him. Whether that be a comfort for themselves or straight-up sex.

Kim’s care vibrated through her. He could feel it now vibrating pure and warm through him. He dropped his jacket on the back of his chair. His arms wrapped around her, his grip tighter than hers. He slumped into her, taking the comfort that she so freely gave. Kim doesn’t let go until Jay loosens his own grip. 

“What was that for?” Kim meets his blue eyes, and he sees the glaze of moisture over hers. 

“Because I needed it. I thought you might too.” She blinks back the tears gaining control over her own emotions. “I know you don’t like talking about it. I get that, I do. But if you decide you want to, I’m always here for you to talk to or just sit with. Whatever you need, Jay. I mean it.” There is a moment of pause and Jay nods. “Molly’s?” 

“Actually, I have something I have to do.”  

Kim sat at the bar a drink in her hand. The team was supposed to be meeting up but so far it was only her and Adam. “Was what you said to that girl about me?” Kim let out a loud breath. She took another long pull of her drink. 

“Yes,” Kim heard Adams hard intake of breath. She had mixed feelings about Adam hearing that. It was a relief because he finally knew how she felt. In the same token she didn’t want to have this conversation. Not when she was already feeling so raw.  

“Wow, I didn’t expect you to actually agree.”She sighed and shook his head. Of course he didn't, even when they were together they were talking and skirting around each other. The deep honesty didn't come easy. And when they finally did have it it didn't come cheap.

It had cost them their relationship.

Kim took another long pull of her beer draining it. She set it back on the bar top.  “Sometimes you just have to cut the thread that ties.” Kim tosses some money onto the counter. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to call it a night.”  

 

There is a hesitant knock on Kim’s door followed by a firmer one. Jay is standing in the hallway of her apartment complex. He holds out a case of beer in offering and gives Kim a noncommittal shrug as she leans against the door jam. “The offer for not talking still good?”  

[sleep-tokens]

I wrote a lil fanfic about Vessel hehe.

TW for light choking

It’s just after a show and you’re the last one left in the theater, wrapping up some cables, when he calls your name. You turn around in surprise. You’ve seen him around, but never spoken directly with him. You’ve always pined for him secretly, and assumed he didn’t even know your name. Why would he have to? He’s busy being the star while you work behind the scenes with the rest of the stagehands.

He’s standing before you, still masked and wearing his cloak from the show. He’s glowing with post-show energy, and the black paint on his body is smudging with sweat. Tonight was the best show of the tour so far. You’d watched from the side stage, in awe of his talent and the way he moves.

He closes the gap between you and suddenly you’re staring up at him. God he’s tall, at least a foot taller than you. You don’t know what to say, you’re suddenly very intimidated by him and at a loss for words. Behind his mask, you can sense that he’s staring at you intensely. He’s looking down at you, then suddenly he’s leaning down toward you, and then his lips find yours.

You’re taken completely by surprise, but you gladly lean into his embrace and kiss him back. You feel his tongue brush your top teeth, and you practically melt into his arms. He’s kissing you like he needs you, like he’s been wanting you just as bad as you’ve been wanting him.

His large hand reaches up to your neck. His hand is so big it easily wraps around your throat. He squeezes gently, and you can’t help but let out a little moan. At the sound, his grip tightens.

He pulls away, but keeps his hand tight around your neck. He’s watching you intently, mouth slightly open in awe of you. Your vision is getting black and fuzzy at the edges, but you don’t struggle. He’s loving watching you choke, and you are getting wetter and wetter the longer you go with him controlling your breath.

Just as you start to feel unsteady on your feet and start to almost collapse, he quickly removes his hand from your throat and wraps his arms around your waist, supporting you while you go limp. You gasp for your first breath, and collapse into him. You’re too air deprived to support yourself, but he’s got you in his strong embrace. You can feel how hard his dick is against your thigh.

“Are you okay, darling?” He says quietly into your ear as he supports you and you catch your breath. “Yes.” You gasp. “Good girl.” He whispers back. You feel yourself get even wetter at those words. You need him so bad.

When you’re steady on your feet again, you get on your toes to reach his lips again. Your hands make their way up to his face to rest on his mask. You’ve only seen him unmasked a couple times, and only briefly. You think about pulling the mask off of him, but decide not to. He’s comfortable this way, and it’s pretty hot anyway.

He puts his hand into your hair and starts to entangle his fingers in it. He tightens his grip and pulls a bit, causing you to moan again. He pulls away, but keeps his fingers entangled in your hair.

“On your knees for me.”

You gladly comply. Now you’re looking up at him, and he grins down at you. He starts to unbuckle his belt. You’re so wet, you feel feral for finally seeing that dick.

He pulls his dick out and fuck it’s so big. It’s long and thick and throbbing for you. You open your mouth obediently and he sticks it in, using his grip on your hair to pull your head forward. You take it into your mouth and immediately gag a little, it’s so big. Your heart is pounding as he uses his grip on you to move your head back and forth on it. It’s so big that it makes you gag as it hits the back of your throat, but it’s still not even fully in.

He moans a little, and the sound drives you so crazy for him. He leans his head back with another quiet moan, enjoying the feel of your mouth on him. You feel his grip tighten in your hair, and he shoves his dick past your mouth and down your throat. You’re choking on it, gagging with tears flowing down your face, but you’re loving it.

He pulls back and lets you gasp and catch your breath for a moment. He pulls you to your feet. He looks you in the eyes and cups your face in his hands. He has a little smile on his face.

“I’ve been thinking about you for a long time.” He says.

“Oh?” You say, surprised that he’d even noticed you before.

“Yes. I think about you while I touch myself. I imagine you on your knees for me.” A shiver runs through you, and you love the idea of him wanting you so badly.

He gently nudges you backwards, until you’re pressed up against a long, waist-height speaker.

“Lay down.” He says, soft but firm. You do as he says, laying on your back on the speaker, as he stands between your legs.

He runs his hands up your waist slowly, until he reaches your breasts. He places his hands on them and squeezes gently.

“I think about what your body might feel like,” he says as he continues to caress your breasts, “what your beautiful body looks like.” He gently pushes up your shirt, exposing you to him. He runs his thumbs across your nipples, and you see him bite his lip a little bit. He wants you so bad.

He leans over you and puts his mouth on one of your nipples, sucking gently, before he starts to kiss all over your breast while he caresses the other.

You reach down to grab his dick and stroke it slowly. You hear him sigh in pleasure. He looks up at you as his hand makes its way down your pants and starts to rub your clit over your underwear.

“I imagine feeling how wet you get for me,” he says, “feeling how badly you want me.”

He smiles. “I’ve been thinking for days about slipping my fingers inside you,” he says as he carefully puts two long fingers inside you.

“Fuck,” you gasp. He thrusts his fingers in and out, the tips of them hitting just the right spot inside you. He starts gently, then builds up speed and force. His thumb starts to rub your clit. You can’t help but moan.

“How bad do you want me?” He asks.

“So bad. I need you. Please,” you moan.

He smiles. He’s still fingering you and rubbing your clit. You can feel an orgasm building. You grab his robe in a tight fist.

“Are you close sweetheart?” He asks softly.

“Yes,” is all you can manage before your orgasm comes. The steady rhythm of his fingers sends a crescendo of pleasure through your whole body. You can’t help but let out a small scream as it intensifies. You hear him let out a soft, satisfied laugh. He slows down as your orgasm tapers down.

You let out an exhausted gasp. He gently pulls his fingers out of you. You lay there breathing heavy for a few moments, still feeling a buzz from your orgasm. He gently caresses your hips, squeezing softly, as he waits patiently for you to return your attention to him.

You lift your head to look at him. He’s smiling, leaning his cheek on your knee while his hands absentmindedly move up and down your other thigh.

“Do you still want me?” He asks quietly. He’s got a grin on his face that shows he already knows the answer.

“Please.”

He continues smiling as he grabs your hips and flips you over onto your stomach. Finally, he shoves his dick inside you. You gasp at the force of it. It’s so big that it fills you up easily, without even being all the way inside.

He thrusts it into you, while he tangles his fingers into your hair. His other hand is on your hip, pulling you closer to him with each thrust.

You feel his weight on you as he leans over you and gets close to your ear. “You feel so good on my dick,” he whispers to you.

His thrusting is perfectly rhythmic, his dick hitting your G spot, and you feel another orgasm building. “I’ve wanted you so badly,” he whispers. The thought of him wanting you pushes you over the edge, and you have another orgasm on his massive dick.

He kisses your neck and keeps thrusting while you finish. “Fuck, Vessel,” you gasp. He laughs quietly. “You’re amazing, sweetheart,” he says quietly. He lets out a soft moan. He’s close to cumming.

His moans a little louder, and his grip tightens in your hair. His thrusting slows down as he cums. He lets out one last sigh of pleasure.

For a moment all is quiet. You turn around to scootch up on the speaker and lay flat on your back, gasping.

He climbs up and lays on his side next to you. His demeanor has changed completely. While he was strong and confident just a moment ago, he’s curled up next to you now, shy and gentle.

You look over and smile. He gently lays a hand on your cheek, stroking your cheekbone. You reach over slowly to push back his hood. You stroke his hair for a moment, and then you carefully take his mask in one hand and pull it off. He doesn’t protest or pull away.

You finally put your hand on his handsome face. He averts his eyes shyly, but has a small smile on his face. You lay there for a while, quiet and peaceful together.

[wordsandrobots]

I just don't get it.

I've been dwelling all day on the times I've seen someone claim/state that the characterisation in Iron-Blooded Orphans Season 2 is inconsistent with Season 1 and I still can't understand how people get to that conclusion. Clearly they do. But everything about S2 reads to me as a really straightforward acceleration of the flaws established in S1, and we know from the writing side, the intention was always to have this end in tragedy, even if the timescale changed. (Which, to be clear, is something I think was entirely to the show's benefit, allowing for a midway 'hope spot' where everything works out by the skin of its teeth, driving everyone to greater levels of reckless confidence.)

Most of the major personality rug-pulls happen by the time we hit the build-up to the climax of S1. We go from seeing Orga in his element -- the charismatic, clever military leader taking control of a miserable situation for the sake of his comrades -- to seeing what he's like in the wider world -- winging it, latching on to new ideas like a limpet, chasing the biggest rewards as fast as he can -- to seeing what's underneath it -- his awe/fear of Mika, his inability to do what's smart in the face of what his friends want, and the way he crumbles under the weight of casualties before stubbornly keeping onwards in an effort to turn the loss into a meaningful sacrifice. There is a straight line from the Dort Colonies where Orga gets pressured into becoming involved, to the point everyone insists on going after Jasley, to what happens in the middle of the battle with the Arianrhod Fleet. It's practically the same scene three times over with the desperation on Orga's face dialled up each time.

Same for the others. Despite his light-hearted presentation, Shino is deeply affected by his friends' deaths and commits himself to fighting so they don't have to, ego driving him to do reckless shit that doesn't quite work. Gaelio is a prideful dick who, while he has various good instincts, ultimately acts based on his emotional reactions alone. Hell, Mikazuki is literally introduced firing a gun that knocks him clean off his feet, his body too frail to withstand the violence he's committing on behalf of Orga, who watches with a mix of terror and amazement, that morphs into a teeth-clenched determination to keep going -- because what else do you do when faced with *that* level of devotion at your command?

McGillis is the only one where I can kind of grasp why it would seem inconsistent, because the reveals about the exact shape of his past are left to the back half of S2, and the twist that he was rooting his entire world-view in childish mythology is (deliberately) dissonant with his ruthless manipulation of the rest of the cast. But, like -- he treats Tekkadan as this amazing, miraculous event from the word go. He is heavily invested in imagery (around them, around Kudelia, around the Gundams) and waffles on endlessly about the Calamity War. His wearing of a mask is explicitly framed as playing dress-up, in which he takes a giddy delight. The revelations set all this in a new light, sure. They're hardly inconsistent with it. Not in a show chock full of people caught up in their own ideas about other people and what a better world would mean.

My point is, Iron-Blooded Orphans is about messed-up people in shitty situations making actively terrible life choices because they're trapped inside the event horizons of their own trauma. It is about everyone crushed by indifferent systems of power, shouting loud and proud that they are human beings with hopes and dreams and loves and fears, and smashing them to pieces regardless because that is what *happens* in an unjust world. It runs on its characters' flaws, like any good tragedy, on their flawed reactions to the very real problems they struggle against. Season 2 is an escalating series of runaway trains, each crisis shaping the reaction to the next in worse and worse ways. I could spend ages breaking down how it goes from Tekkadan at the peak of its ability to brazen through problems on sheer guts, to their strength actively working against them even when they are saving the world with it, to where it ends, a tragic, bittersweet peace that, as cynically as it could be read, still contains small triumphs.

At no point does it seem to me to be anything less than extremely clear and consistent about what it is saying. I've had people comment on my fic saying I've fixed the characterisation for them, and I have to state openly, that is not what I thought I was doing! I'm just taking what I saw in the series and extrapolating from it. There *are* parts where I've added stuff, to fill in the gaps you need to when you're making secondary characters into leads. But I know which bits I made up whole-cloth and, well, maybe I'm fooling myself but I don't think I ever had to introduce something to explain anyone's actions in the series itself.

Anyway, sorry for waffling on so long. Please don't take this as me calling anyone daft for where they landed on IBO, it's just that these reactions always make me twitch and wonder if I've hallucinated something over a gap somewhere. Then I go back to all the times Orga rides rough-shod over Biscuit's good advice and -- no! No, the text very firmly set up why this all goes horribly wrong and pays off each and every point like the world's most appalling check-list! You are 100% free to not enjoy that, but it's clearly working as intended

[buckybarnesss]

Heather, we gotta talk about Peter and Lydia's dynamic, and then how he 'grew'???? Into his relationship with Malia. I mean like kind of insane of him to use Lydia as a soul capsule???? Then just letting her run around??? Then trying to manipulate her into thinking about everything???

i had to sit with this one a little bit to collect my thoughts about lydia and peter.

i'm sure what attracts people is that there's this element of perspheone and hades, of lydia's decent into the world of the supernatural because of peter, that he drove her into some form of madness with the two of them.

peter got lucky with lydia.

her being a banshee along side the connection between an alpha and someone they bit pulled his ass out of the afterlife.

him being his high-school self? was it a manipulation? did peter even have control of it? was it lydia's banshee powers? was it them both seeking a connection in a form lydia would be more comfortable with? less likely to be suspicious of?

in 6a lenore is able to create a manifestation of her deceased son. banshee powers are ill-defined in canon because it seems they are limitless and entirely unique to the banshee forged by their trauma and circumstance.

it's no coincidence to me that lydia under the tutelage of meredith is finally able to control and purposefully use her powers to save malia. lydia's loss of allison is a well spring of trauma, of pain and grief for her. she would do anything to not have someone else she cares about die knowing she could've done something to prevent it.

and also lydia is someone who spent a lot of time not using her voice, hiding behind a mask of the popular queen bee persona and when she does find her voice it becomes her greatest weapon. lydia's being true to herself and using her voice saves mason, stiles, malia and deaton. the wool is fully removed from her eyes. her powers let her perceive beyond the veil to the deepest truth of them all -- death.

the thing about peter is he's clever, cunning and manipulative but this man is also a hale so he's also in turn somewhat reckless and dramatic at all times. peter knows no chill and he will recognize no chill. you commit to your goddamn bit.

during peter's time as an alpha he only bites two people. scott and lydia. scott was bitten because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time but lydia was bitten deliberately.

s2 makes it clear that peter knew she wasn't going to turn but instead her banshee abilities were going to go from being passive to active. it was also a chance to intimate and strong arm stiles with lydia's life on the line.

as with many things with peter there's multiple reasons but i think he knew very quickly what she was when he encountered her in the tell.

going back to season 1 there were hints of lydia's banshee nature but none were as big as the tell. lydia arriving at the video store coincided closely with the death of the clerk. peter was even still lurking on the premises.

her powers were always there just latent.

alpha peter dicks around with terrorizing jackson and than bursts out only to startle lydia who screams. this moment is captured on the cctv footage which the the sheriff shows deaton stills from. this is also a moment when i think deaton begins to realize what's up.

i think lydia's scream brought peter out of his alpha form. a few episodes later is night school where peter brings all his people of interest to one place to have a really intense game of hide and seek, casual murder and attempts at intimidation. it wasn't just scott he was scoping out is what i'm saying. it's lydia's molotovs that eventually kill him. she's connected to both his death and resurrection.

i think peter knew he was on limited time anyway towards the end either derek was going to kill him or the argents so he took precautions to resurrect himself and lydia just fell into his lap like a portent.

he has continued interest in her like the creep he is though. i don't buy for a second he felt cowed at all when she came to the loft at the end of season 3a when she was trying to get information on where the nemeton is.

i don't really think peter necessarily feels guilt for what he thinks are necessary actions and the most necessary thing of all is the continued survival of peter hale. he's a complicated man. like i think he feels regret at having killed laura but it was a necessary sacrifice to obtain the alpha spark. acting contrite with lydia keeps her from killing him basically.

but again peter is complicated and when he views someone as his in any way he will try to protect them even if it's against his instinct of self preservation.

we see this behavior with malia and derek and cora. even stiles.

but lydia and scott? they are his. he bit them. they're both his greatest successes and his greatest failures as an alpha. he will guard that jealously and revel in it. he will be a pain in their ass. he is their demon to wrestle.

[thechaoticcheese]

This post contains Gen Loss spoilers!

So I was thinking about the final scene of Gen Loss where GL!Ranboo's head gets boxed, specifically when Ranboo on one of their streams talking about Gen Loss, he mentioned that there were wires in his mouth. That got me thinking after rewatching and seeing it...

Did GL!Ranboo always have those wires in his mouth, just due to them not being seen they weren't built in? If so that's interesting, cause I've always wondered how the mask worked. I figured the wires and the logo on the back of his neck is connected to his brain but if there is another set of wires in his mouth, that must mean there are multiple brain entry points.

I also want to bring up them HAVING to use a constant mask on GL!Ranboo (other than Ranboo wanting to remain a mostly masked creator). Is his mind so powerful that they HAD to keep having constant instructions put directly to his brain compared to the others who basically have a personality programmed into them with just about 10 seconds or less being put in a full mask, I assume before shows, or in GL!Sneeg's case during one.

If so, how many other creators have this mask or has had it? Would GL!Sneeg have gotten one or just gotten killed due to being able to break his mental hallucination easily? Though rewatching the scene where GL!Sneeg tries to escape it's the "slime" hat that breaks his hallucinations, like really breaks it. After The Puzzler puts the "slime" hat on him his eyes gets wide and he panics a bit but manages to stay calm to leave. Not to mention the screen does that weird side glitch affect when someone isn't in control. Why I never noticed this detail before idk, but I don't think anyone mentioned the blood hat unless it was talking about GL!Austin Shows(Austin). After the glitching happens Squiggles seems to have realized something was up too, or Hetch? I think they're the same person in a sense, please correct me if I'm wrong. After that Sneeg books it out of there, probably trying to leave as fast as possible before getting caught by Showfall Media's employees. I wonder what he saw out there due to him calling it "(What is) This sick place(?!)". Could he have seen Security? How much of the Mall could he have seen?

I also wanna take the time to talk about GL!Austin. I saw on a post that he seemed so freaked out about everything, especially when The Puzzler was going around and playing with Frank and the "slime" hat, which we have found out was indeed blood. I personally think that this is half true. Going back and rewatching Ep 2 near the beginning where GL!Sneeg is reprogrammed live, he is frozen like everyone else. He isn't moving or anything, so he is mind controlled like the others, but maybe he's "allowed" to see what really is happening, that Frank really is a skeleton/rotting corpse and that there is blood on GL!Sneeg's hat, hence how he speaks about how sick The Puzzler is. Though that's just a lil food for thought.

[lowcountry-gothic]

I just finished season 7 of my Dexter rewatch, and wow, that gut-punch of a scene. I always thought of it as a plot twist, a surprise, as the episode’s title—“Surprise, Motherfucker!”—would suggest the viewer is meant to think about it, but this time around, knowing what’s about to happen, it feels inevitable. As if there were nothing else that could possibly happen. And I’m rethinking the way I view this entire show. The first time around, when it was first airing, I always thought of Dexter Morgan as an antihero, someone like Batman, who achieved justice where the system failed, albeit a much more bloody and violent justice. Now it seems clear to me that Dexter isn’t an antihero, and almost certainly isn’t meant to be one by the writers. He’s the main figure in a sort of modern day Greek tragedy.

The tragedy of what happened to his mother, sure, and the trauma her death caused, and the way it made him fascinated with blood and death...that much is obvious. But what I’m seeing now are things that, for whatever reason, escaped me before. Things like his adoptive father seeing this fascination with blood and death and, instead of treating it as an unhealthy coping mechanism for his trauma, seeing it—and more tragically, explaining it to Dexter in such a way that he believes it himself—not as something he could possibly heal from, but as a fatalistic, permanent, and defining aspect of who and what Dexter is. Harry’s belief that Dexter just isn’t normal, and never can be, and the way this shaped Dexter’s own sense of himself and the possibilities his life could hold. The way Harry uses Dexter to fulfill his own cop vengeance fantasies that he can’t enact, and the way that Harry’s subsequent suicide makes Dexter feel like it’s all his own fault.

And there’s the fact that Dexter builds a normal life for himself first as a mask to hide what he thinks truly defines him, but doesn’t even question the idea of this side of his life as “false” until midway into the show, when he begins to see that he is just as capable of meaningful human relationships as anyone else is, and that his brokenness isn’t something unique to him but a feature everyone shares, though in much less extreme ways. How he only realizes, after so much personal loss and tragedy, that his “need” to kill is only a passing emotional state that doesn’t control him, and the way he only realizes this after so much killing when it’s too late to live a life uncomplicated by murder and criminal guilt and murderous habits.

The way he, based on Harry’s beliefs, makes decisions and prioritizes things in ways that seem very small at first, but it’s soon obvious, cumulatively, that he’s unintentionally hurting those he loves in ways that don’t stab but cut like paper.

And the way his ultimate decision that his “fake” life—his career and relationships—is the most important thing to him, and he doesn’t want to lose it, the way this realization comes too late because at this point he’s already given up so much to the altar of his hidden life that so very little of the “normal” life he now values so much is even left at this point.

And of course there’s Deb, and her love for him, and how it causes her to make so many bad decisions, so many instances of giving up her own self for him, and the way this culminates in such a horrifying way for her at the end of season 7—we’re not really even sure if the shot was intentional or an accident, but that doesn’t matter, not for her. It’s so tragic. And the way that she’s so overcome by horror and grief, for herself and for Laguerta, and the sheer agony evident on her face as she breathes, “I hate you,” a line that not even the subtitles caption—you just have to pay attention and listen or be able to read her lips—Damn.

And above all, how things didn’t have to be this way. If Harry had had more faith in Dexter as a child. If he hadn’t—just like a cop—believed that people’s dark sides are the most important things about them. That people are either good people or bad people and that the former need to be protected from the latter at all costs.

How could anyone see this show as being about Dexter’s little darkly comic adventures and the way he forges his own deadly brand of justice, and not about how his entire life, and that of everyone he becomes important to, is just one sad, devastating story after another????

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Hey, I just saw you had an event going on and wanted to request 💀🦖 with Deacon and ‘Move out of my way, or I’ll make you.’

I can’t deny it, I love the angst

Yay! The first actual angst prompt! Ooh, and it's a good one.

I feel strongly about the piece I wrote here... As it's pretty much just the way I yelled at the t.v. when this happened in-game.

But anyway, I hope you like it! 😁

"You lied?"

"Well, that was the lesson here, Sole, that's why the paper says--"

A frustrated groan interrupted him, and when your head lashed his way, there was fire in your eyes.

"'You can't trust everyone,' okay, yeah, I get it, you asshole. But you couldn't have told me earlier? Deacon, it's been months. It's been months, and I thought-- All this time..." You dragged your fingers over your scalp, feeling heat wash over you at the thought of it.

"The only reason I even read the damn thing is because of how out of control you've been lately! The way you've been endangering yourself... I couldn't bare to see you get hurt, I thought, if I used the code, if I thought you put yourself in a situation you couldn't miraculously get out of... Fuck, I trusted you, I cared about you and I believed you and-- and now you're saying that was wrong?"

"Hey, I'm sorry you're upset, okay?" Deacon's voice was calm. It only made you angrier. "But this was all a part of what you need to know. If you're in the Railroad--"

"What other choice did I have, Deacon?" You shouted at him, "How could I not trust you? I woke up in this world with no one, and you're the first person to give me a chance, to think I can make it out here, the first one to support me, and now you're saying I can't trust you? No, you're showing me that I can't? By lying to me?"

His mouth was hanging open, on the brink of saying what, you didn't know, but you weren't about to let him get on with it. You weren't finished.

"This shit doesn't teach me not to trust other people, it teaches me not to trust you. I believed you... I thought you were my friend, and yet all this time... What else have you lied about? Has anything you've told me been true?"

Deacon's silence was deafening.

It wasn't shock at your tone anymore, it was sheer loss of words. Because you were right.

You shook your head as Deacon looked away from you, his shades barely managing to mask the way his mind reeled and turned within itself to think of something he told you about himself that was utterly true.

"I don't even know you. Do I?"

You moved to brush past him, to leave this part of the ruins and find another place to sleep.

In the morning, you'd head back to HQ alone. That much, you'd decided.

"Sole, wait." Deacon made a move to step in front of you, one hand landing dangerously on your shoulder to hold you in place. "You did it. You passed, okay? You read the note, you got the message, and now... Now we can build on that. The first real lesson is checked off. This is a good thing."

You pulled your shoulder away from his grip, ignoring his poor attempt at justification as you went to move past him again.

He side-stepped into your path.

"Deacon--"

"Just let me tell you a few more things, okay? Let me--"

"Why? So you can lie? So you can build up my trust again before tearing it down? So you can start trying to unravel all the bullshit you already had me believing? No thanks."

You waited for him to move, to give in. But Deacon stood firm.

You groaned as you stepped around him deliberately.

He raised a hand to you, venturing to stop you again.

"Deacon. Move out of my way. Let me go, or I'll make you."

Finally, his head hung, and he stepped aside.

Maybe one day you'd be able to forgive him, you two could travel together again, even. But you knew one thing for certain. You'd never make the mistake of trusting him again.