#what can i say im weak for shared history

[sednonamoris]

i caved and now there are actual dates on the sacred houndprice timeline

[greenfuls-secret-chambers]

Warnings : Minors DNI, shameless smut

Reader is of legal age

1800+ words

Our Little Secret

Tripping over your feet, you successfully made your way past the crowd to the door of the bar.

It was Friday night, being the last few weeks of your third year of college , you and all of your friends decided to go out for a drink. Next thing you knew, one drink led to two, and two some how led to four.

You pushed past the heavy door, finding yourself leaning up against the building fishing in your pockets for your pack of cigarettes. Finding the pack you took one out and put it to your lips. You took out your lighter, tried to light the end but no luck.

“Well fuck, isn’t that just peachy.” You groaned

You looked around, scanning the figures around you, looking for someone who might be able to save you from your predicament. To your left you saw a man blowing smoke out of his nose.

“Hey would you mind? I need a light.” You pointed to your cigarette.

He looked up at your with green eyes and smiled. “Sure, no problem. I’ve been there a couple of times myself.” He stood up and put his hand around your cig to light it.

Holy shit, was this man TALL. Not only was he built like a damn giant, he was hot as fuck.

You stared at him in the pale moonlight, taking in his light brown hair, his bright green eyes, but also a scar that ran across his face. What you wouldn’t give to be under this mystery of a man.

“You know, it’s not polite to stare.” He smirked, as if he knew what you were thinking.

“I’m sorry!” You blushed, “My name is Y/N, thank you for the light.” You smiled, trying to not make things awkward.

“Oh yes Y/N Y/LN, I know of you, I’m Professor Remus Lupin, I teach world history at UCL.”

Your brain short circuited.

Im standing here smoking in front of a professor. NO I’m standing here drunk, smoking in front of a professor.

Worried about your image you moved your arm down by your side trying to hide your cigarette. You couldn’t afford to lose your scholarships.

Seeing you become uncomfortable he spoke,

“No need to be bashful, I’m not going to scold you for smoking. That would be hypocritical of me to do so.” He brought his hand up to his mouth and took a drag.

“Plus we are off of school grounds, so it can be our little secret.” He smirked

There it was again, that smirk was making your knees weak.

You finished your cigarette and flicked it away

“Well professor, the night is still young, I’m going back in and to grab another drink.”

“Mind if I come and join you? It is the weekend and I could use one. Grading all these exams are going to be the death of me.”

Feeling a little brave, you smiled, “Sure, since you helped me out with the light, just put yours on my tab.”

“Well I never say no to a free drink”

With that you walked through the door making your way to the bar taking a seat, Lupin following behind you.

The bartended made his way over to you, “Need another jack and coke?”

“Yes please, and could you put his on my tab?” You looked at Lupin.

“Cinnamon whiskey on the rocks.” He requested.

Within a couple of minutes your drinks were sat in front of you.

Lupin turned to look at you “For someone as sociable as you, I know you couldn’t of come alone.”

Oh shit your friends, you had completely forgotten about them. You looked around the bar, but no dice. “Well I didn’t, I guess they have already left for the night.” You looked down at your phone confirming your suspicions.

*Hey, I hope you’re alright! We waited for you to come back to the table, but Maria started to get sick so we took her back to Uni. Be safe! I’ll see you back at the dorm later*

…

An hour had past, you were now on your 6th drink of the night and you were feeling it. The night was going very well. The both of you were chatting up a storm, everything from what was going on at university to even some hobbies you both shared.

“.. and you know what,” Lupin spoke in between sips, “Professor Snape needs to have the huge stick removed from his ass, he is so insufferable to work with.”

You almost spit out your drink from laughing and lightly slapped him on the arm, “Imagine being one of his students, I have never in my life had a professor who is such a hard ass for no reason, I think that man just needs to get laid.” You giggled.

Lupin looked down at your hand, still on his arm and bit his lip. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks so.”

He looked up at you, taking in the sight. He hadn’t noticed early but you truly breathtaking. His eyes began to look you up and down, noticing a couple of your buttons at the top of your shirt had come undone. You skirt had rode up just slightly, giving him a view of your upper thigh.

You but your lip and quipped “You know Professor, it’s not polite to stare.”

“Y/N, no need for formalities, please call me Remus.” He replied, trying to take away from you catching him staring.

You smiled, noticing you still had your hand on his arm, you squeezed it ever so gently. This caused him to shift a little in his chair.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for another smoke.” You said trying to break the tension.

“I think you’re right.” He smiled

You both made your way outside, it had gotten a little colder which caused you to shiver.

Seeing this he asked, “I’m freezing, would you want to smoke in my car?”

Taking the opportunity not to go into hypothermic shock, as well as be alone with him, you happily agreed.

You both made your way to his car, getting into the passenger you could smell chocolate and warm spices. It was a nice change from the mustiness of the bar.

You both took out a cigarette. He lit his, waiting for him to hand you the lighter never came. He leaned over and lit your cig with his. His face only inches away from yours. Between the booze and his action, your cheeks turned red.

You both smoked in silence, stealing small glances while the other one wasn’t looking.

A few minutes went and you had both finished your smokes, flicking them out the window.

You checked your phone seeing it was almost 2am. “Well it’s getting rather late, I need to get back to the dorms soon.” You sighed.

Your hand reached for the door, but before you could open it, Remus grabbed onto your arm and pulled you over to him. Leaving you both inches away from each other’s face.

Staying in that position for what seemed like eternity, you closed the gap putting your lips to his.

He kissed you back immediately, sliding his tongue along your bottom lip, begging to be let inside, you happy obliged and parted your lips slightly, allowing him access. You both fought for dominance, but in the end letting him win.

A few seconds later he moved his hand to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of hair, pulling you away to look at him.

This caused you to whimper. Your cheeks where flushed, and your eyes where slightly closed.

“Such a pretty girl, I was just waiting to get my hands on you.” He looked you up and down, taking in the sight before him. You skirt had rode all the way up, giving him a view of your black lace panties.

Wanting more you moaned out, “Professor please ..” Starting to rub your thighs together.

He smirked “Professor? I do recall telling you to call me by my first name.” He brought his other hand to your thighs and pushed them apart.

Taking his finger and rubbing them up your clothed slit, he lowly chuckled feeling the wetness.

“Oh I see. This little slut has a thing for getting fucked by a Professor huh? That’s quite naughty isn’t it Y/N?”

You couldn’t take it, he was turning you into a moaning mess.

“Professor Lupin, please don’t tease me, I need more.” You gasped out, grinding down on his hand.

“Exactly what I would expect from a whore like you, don’t worry my love, I’ll give you more.”

He pulled your panties over to the side and pushed two long fingers into you, immediately curling them.

With his other hand, he let go of your hair, almost causing you to lose your balance, to unbutton his pants. He pulls them down just enough to free his cock.

Your eyes grew wide at the sight. He was definitely larger than average and so thick. You have no idea how it was going to fit inside you.

He brought his hand up to your mouth and commanded, “Spit.”

You did as you were told and watch him bring his hand down to his cock, starting to stroke at the same speed he was thrusting his fingers.

He started to speed up both hands then completely stoped.

“Come here, I want you to get in my lap.”

Without hesitating you climbed over the middle console.

He slid down in his seat to give you more access. He pulled your panties back over to the side and slowly pushed you down on his cock.

“Professor Lupin, you’re stretching me out.” You moaned, bitting your lip.

He grunted as he buried himself completely to the hilt. “Y/N, you have such a tight little pussy.”

Without warning he started to thrust upward into you. Both of his hands ripped open your shirt, sending buttons flying all over his car.

He pulled your breast out of your bra and leaned forward to take a nipple into his mouth.

His thrust started to become more rough causing you to grab on to his shoulders for more stability.

“Professor please, I want you to ruin my pussy, fuck me harder.” You cried out, begging.

He released your nipple from his mouth and grabbed the back of your neck pulling you close to him.

“If you keep squeezing around my cock like that, im going to make sure you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

And with that he sped up, thrusting into you at a speed you couldn’t even fathom , before you knew it your orgasm hit you like a train

“Fuck Remus, fill up my tight pussy.” You pleaded, riding out your orgasm.

With his name leaving your mouth he sped up.

“Y/N I’m so close my darling.” He groaned

Feeling you clench around him caused his movements to become uneven. With a final thrust he emptied inside of you, panting to catch his breath.

You both sat there, slumped in the driver seat. He brought his hand up to your cheek , taking his thumb ever so gently to rake across it.

[0seraptor0]

A theory made by me and my friend: part 2

Hello everyone I’m the Whitepine community. Me and my friend have spent the past hour making up theories. They may be quite long but we’d love for you to read them!!

2. As i looked through specific areas of the whitepine mansion i noticed as ivory arrives it is raining this is a key factor on what im about to say. The hemlocke family name is possibly referring to the posionious and toxic plant “hemlock” which grows in dark damp places. and im pretty certain im some what on the right path with this idea. Hemlock Can kill someone in a matter of 15 minutes or sooner after being posioned, hemlock is a white flower coinedence? i think not. As ivory looks around the mansion i noticed in the garden there is TONNES of white flowers is this telling us that those flowers are the imfamous hemlock plant? the posionious hemlock plant. THE SAME PLANT THAT IS SAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE TABLE ON THE SERVANTS EATING QUATERS?!?!. In one of the scenes where ivory meets all the maids/butlers ectect they are eating only certain maids/butlers are eating which i believe to be some sort of foreshadowing of the future on who might die next? though near the white flower which i assume to be hemlock and coincidentally the one who is found dead at the stairs is mysticat ONE of the people eating at the table near the white flower. As hemlock the plant is poisionious i believe while eating mysticat was some how posioned. specifically at 22:50 that is when all of them gather mysticat begins eating at 23:06 which gives around a 6-7 minute gap between when she was poisoned as i mentioned before from the flower she is then found dead at the bottom of the stairs. I believe ivory wanted us to assume mysticat fell and died but in actual fact she died from hemlock poisoning. We also see mysticat full of blood which would make sense as she “fell down” the stairs but i believe this to be a sign of hemlock posioning me and my friend dicussed the possibility of the blood is actually blisters a symptom of hemlock poisoning. I am also sorry to let down all the serapter fans but i believe he is also poisoned. In one scene in falls randomly hemlock posioning causes the person to be weak and unable to have fast movements so when seraptor fell that was showing he was also posioned from the hemlock. I saw a comment about the newspaper in the trailer and how men have been dying from starvation and being overworked. What if one of these workers was starving and was searching for food. A common mistake with people is they mix up two similar plants hemlock and cows parsley, What if this worker comes across hemlock and mistakes it for the so callled cows parsley instead and eats it sharing it with others and bringing them to their death. There was also a supersition at this time (i cannot confirm this) if someone was to bring cows parsley into their families house hold it would bring automatic death to their household maybe that is linking together with the fact people are dying from “starvation and overworking” but in fact it is once again the hemlock plant causing it and that it is clearly a common issue currently in the area they all are in that hemlock poisoning is a key dominate thing happening for everyone in this town/place. I am still unaware what century/time whitepine is set in but maybe it is possible people are unaware of the fact that hemlock is posionious at this time in history.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5

[midnigtartist]

Since Dotty is romancing Gale and has a history of acquaintance/friendship with Wyll, I'm curious about what her relationships with the rest of the party are like if you don't mind sharing. C:

I’m gonna just do the remaining origin characters so this post doesn’t get to long!

Shadowheart: Dotty kind of imprinted on her like a duckling lol. Shes who Dotty would consider to be her first friend on the adventure. Being friends with Dotty has definitely instilled the ‘mom arm’ instinct in Shadowheart bc Dotty (the rogue) has extremely low perception and walks into traps constantly. They basically walk around w Shadowheats hand on the back of her shirt to point her in the direction of things that need disarming

Lae’zel: i dont think Lae’zel really warmed up to Dot until the end of act one. She thought Dotty was weak in body and will and that she was probably gonna die early and stupidly and took up a begrudging protector roll with her. its not till everything that goes down a the crèche that they really become friends and Dotty proves that shes someone that can be relied on. Also did a big class change in act three where Dotty took fighter lvls and I hc that she asked Lae’zel to train her

Karlach: I dont have Karlach in my party often but she and Dot are definitely chaos “let me shoots this apple off your head blindfolded” friends. Drinking buddies for sure. Karlach calls her Shortie 💙

Astarion: its very “im the only one allowed to bully you” energy from Astarion. Dotty is kind of exactly the person he hates. Too emotional, too naive , too much of a bleeding heart. He finds her extremely annoying at first but possibly stupid enough to run his little scheme on if she wasnt so head over heels for Gale (ugh). He wants to hate her, but shes so infuriatingly considerate and nice. Being mean to her would be like kicking a blind puppy. Its no fun if she doesnt see it coming (he says even though he is a bit protective of her). I also love the idea of them eventually becoming in laws bc Astarion is so her cousin’s type lol

[v-anrouge]

i almost never draw men despite being a gay homosexual fruity man so genderbends just really tickle my pickle however twst fans are so egregiously bad at doing genderbends??? do. people just think genderbends are longer hair, boobs, and an hourglass figure? fem!vil would not just be vil but with allat YOU WANKERS RAAAGGHHHHH. vil is feminine because hes a MAN and is breaking out of the norms of being a man. his femininity is crucial to his identity as a man. whatever he may be, he'll always be gnc, because the whole point about him is that he DESPISES stereotypical expectations of gendered presentation. he owns his masculinity while also being comfortable in his femininity. so if vil were a woman she'd have short hair, dress in typically masculine clothes, call herself a king-- fuck, vil would probably use he/him pronouns. all that wouldn't negate fem!vil's identity as a woman because her womanhood is based off being her truest self, of embracing the energy that makes her, her, even if it isn't stereotypically feminine, and breaking out of the norms is what gives her power and comfort in her identity. her womanhood IS breaking out of the confines that shackle women to this paragon of submissive perfection. it makes me mad when people waste the potential of genderbends especially since gender can add different and interesting nuance to a character given how the concept itself can shape and affect people's lives on the whole. not to mention, women are often given more shit for doing the exact same thing men do so it'd be interesting to see these characters changed to adapt to that. more people might be anti's of fem!vil than of og!vil. call her a manhater and a feminist that's weakening society and so much more horrible shit because every weak man just NEEDS to drag a strong woman down and humble her and though og!vil is already headstrong, full of confidence, and ready to give anyone shit, fem!vil would have to build her resilience even more against the raging misogyny she'd receive. she knows just how much the world hates women and gnc people like her and that's what motivates her even more to destroy society's narrowminded perception of gender. and you just know how butch women aren't even perceived as women by many members of the queer community-- she's a woman, and she's butch, masculine, etc etc and you'll know it. she won't take shit from both heteronormative people AND prejudiced queer people.

maybe im just speaking yappanese because twst doesn't really have the history of misogyny and sexism as the real world does however there is proof that there is toxic gender norms where we can see the toxic masculinity from the real world being reflected in epel so id take that as an indicator that we may share similarities in some of their societies.

anyhow point is that if you genderbend gnc characters like vil to just be the stereotypical representation of the gender you're bending tjem to, you're the person they hate the MOST. you're putting them in the box they DESPISE because you refuse to see all the effort they've put into their non-conforming identity and seeing them as nothing more than what you expect from them-- perceiving them in the constricting standard they're fighting to break. STOP MAKING ALL FEM!CHARACTERS SHORTER AND THINNER AND MORE CONVENTIONALLY ATTRACTIVE YOU SCAT STAINS!!!!! WHILE A PART OF WOMANHOOD AND UNDESERVING OF HATE, ITS NOT THE PARAGON OF WOMANHOOD BECAUSE THERE IS NO STANDARD TO IT AND TO DEPICT ALL FEM!CHARACTERS AS A MONOLITH OF THE SORT IS AN INJUSTICE TO THEM AS A WHOLE!!! you want a girlboss but can't even do girlbosses right what makes you think you can handle girlfailures or girldisasters OR GIRLINSANITY. women are not there for you to draw them pretty. they can be just as complex as their masc counterparts if not more than in some scenarios.

like fem!jamil would be even more tragic. fem!riddle too. fem!leona too. not to say that they aren't already full of existing nuance because they ARE and it's GREAT but fem characters are just so full of heart wrenching potential AND NO ONE TAKES IT UP RAGGGGGHHHHHHHHH

anyways im not even a girl kisser but i would kiss fem!rook because i fucking love it when girls are unfiltered and creepy and off-putting and disturbing and covered in blood. maybe im bisexual. who knows.

also i just think fem!malleus would be super cool like ahagha girllll you're SO autistic and strange and frightening pleasseeee talk to me about gothic architecture while i explode.

ANON U ATE LIKE HIGHKEY OH MY GOD PLEASE IM PUTTINGTTHIS IN THE MAIN TAG

i never quite understood why i always disliked vil genderbents specifically until like some time ago that i realized the reason i hated it it's because the way people draw it (hyperfemme) doesn't make sense for vil's character, it doesn't make sense that vil, as a man would dress feminine to fight gender roles yet if he was a woman that wouldn't happen and she would still be dressing feminine. genderbents r such an :/ topic because most ppl that make them take the characters make them shorter, skinnier, puts then in tight short clothes, gives them long hair makeup and idk man it always puts me off like being a woman is way more than that and despite the fact a lot of women do present themselves that way, making EVERY character be like that is just idk it FEELS wrong. i feel like most genderbents r just copy and pastes of the same gender roles slapped into a character carelessly just because and honestly it fucking sucks

[seldomdrawncherubs]

im a dudebro seer of heart/blood and ive decided i plan to use my powers for evil. any quick tips?

(I will do seer of blood here since seer of heart is somewhere else in the inbox)

UU: seer of blood. yoU share an aspect with kankri and the signless

UU: yoU have incredible potential for good! knowing how to help others, how to connect with them?

UU: i almost envy yoU! you coUld have so many friends and lead people to peacefUl victories.

UU: the seer of blood can also see connection where others claim there is only division.

UU: yoU can recognize injUstice as kankri and the signless did. yoUr classpect means yoU will know what is hUrting people and how the harm of society works. yoU coUld dismantle entire frameworks of sUffering.

UU: are yoU sUre yoU want to be evil?

***

uu: OF COuRSE THEY DO! DIDN'T YOu SEE THAT?

uu: BLOOD MEANS BLOOD. HISTORY. MARKS OF VIOLENCE.

uu: TO SEE THESE. IS TO KNOW THE WEAKNESSES. OF YOuR ENEMIES. TO KNOW HOW TO ORGANIZE YOuR ALLIES INTO A KILLING MACHINE. AND TO MANIPuLATE. YOu COuLD DISMANTLE INJuSTICE. OR MANTLE IT. YOu SHOuLD MANTLE IT IF YOu WANT TO BE EVIL.

uu: MY SISTER. SAYS FRIENDSHIP IS BETTER. I SAY. DO WHATEVER YOu WANT. SEER IS A SHITTY CLASS. YOu MAY AS WELL. FIGHT DIRTY. TO BE AN ALPHA CHAD DuDEBRO. AS YOu CLAIM

uu: ORDINARILY. I WOuLD REJECT YOu. FOR YOuR LACK OF POWER. ESPECIALLY SINCE YOu SHARE WITH THE SIGNLESS. WHO IS BORING AND NOT VERY ALPHA.

uu: BuT I LIKE. THE WAY YOu THINK.

uu: PROVE HOW EVIL YOu CAN BE. WITH MANIPuLATION. AND CuNNING. THEN MAYBE. I WILL CONSIDER YOu.

tumut.

[acreaturecalledgreed]

ppl who have read through it say that the august few: amygdala is as pretentious as it is stupid as it is vibrantly creative

and like yeah lol 

i havent read it yet but i could have told u this from listening to fennah talk for five minutes

this is the kind of guy who thinks that saying he takes no stance at all on the politics of his book means that its more intelligent than if he did

hes the sort of guy who i get the impression feels that having Strong Feelings About Anything means that you are wrong simply for having strong feelings (this is based on vibes from what hes said in vids etc; he has not to my knowledge outright said anything like this im not trying to slander anyone, this is just the impression he gives off)

but he is kind of a textbook example of why “kill your darlings” isnt bad advice, and why sometimes you need someone to say “idk man this doesnt read super great” 

watched a livestream with him and the guy stumbles reading through passages of his own book, not b/c hes a bad reader but b/c he Really likes using as many words as he can to say anything

anyway fennah is one of those internet creators who makes me cock my head in both admiration for that devotion and bravery in really putting his stuff out there and boldly and proudly embracing how weird it is

but also in a wince, because it really, really is frustrating how much thought he seems to put into literally everything except what it is he’s wanting to say or share with the world, and what seems to be a massive aversion to researching aspects of culture, nature, economy, environment, even parody (as he describes the book as a hyper-parody of the animal kingdom, which i can see and it does have this really over the top extremity to it that i think is fun! but needs to be handled better) 

he talks about how he likes his characters to not behave how they look like they Should behave- but then at the same time elaborates that he designs his gentler characters to outwardly show traits more in line with herbivores than carnivores, like his more intense and violent characters, which is both like, textbook visual queueing and also feeds into the whole “herbivore soft weak gentle carnivore big scary mean powerful” thing which is just. massively inaccurate

anyway the entirety of fennah’s works and their history absolutely fascinate me in this really detached way and i am rolling them over in my mind and inspecting them like a neat bug

i will read the book eventually and probably enjoy it if only b/c excessively wordy hyper detailed prose is genuinely fun for me to read, and i know its going to have me rolling my eyes A Lot

[apilgrimpassingby]

hello! i just wanted to say i am so pleased to find your blog😊your views on masculinity are so very refreshing, and i wish there were more blogs like you here.

so i wanted to ask you something!! sorry it’s a bit of a long-winded explanation, i am prone to overexplaining😭

i am sort of unofficially dating this guy—we still have to talk about it, but we do like each other a lot and are just taking it step by step. he’s very artistic, enjoys literature, he’s deep and introspective, and he’s very emotionally intelligent. one thing he has always talked about is how he loves examples of masculine men in fiction that aren’t necessarily athletic, like himself. he is gentle and kind, while still being protective and nurturing, and he takes good care of himself—but sometimes people will call him feminine or girly for his interests, or for actually taking care of his body/having a fashion sense (im pretty sure it is also because he learned to take care of himself this way a lot earlier than other guys in his class, so they were all just kinda like🤨)

i was wondering if you have any suggestions on how i can uplift him and help him feel secure in his masculinity. obviously it is not up to me to make him feel masculine, that’s not what i mean—i was just wondering if there is anything i can do, or avoid doing, to remind him that i don’t think of him as weak or what-have-you, since sometimes i know guys can start to feel that way if they aren’t necessarily athletic or if they don’t enjoy sports, because that is sort of the masculine stereotype—and i would imagine that society definitely makes you feel less masculine if you don’t fit into that.

it’s alright if there isn’t really anything to be said since this might be a bit of a weird question, but it’s something i think about a lot so i decided to just go ahead and ask. i would just hate to add to any of his anxieties or unintentionally cause him to question his masculinity, if that makes sense? i would like to support him in any way i can, whether subtly or directly.

thank you for taking the time to read this if you did, and no pressure to answer it, especially since i sort of just sprung this in your ask box. just know that your blog is appreciated and i am glad that you are here and sharing your thoughts. i hope you are well :)

Here are my attempts to help.

Point to historical/literary examples. Yes, I believe there is an essential "masculine function" that has been more-or-less constant across recorded history and human culture; but the Left is right to say that the form of it has historically been tremendously diverse. Taking care of appearance? The Spartans didn't just braid and oil their hair, their did so in public before their enemies as a show of masculine prowess. Literature? My ideal man, King David, wrote poetry (which the Bible has recorded for us). If you want more examples, message me and I'll happily provide them.

In terms of taking care of his body, it's a part of the relationship - you presumably want him to look good. Do you do it for your woman's happiness? That makes it a chivalrous - and, thus, manly - action.

More generally, step away from modern masculinity and towards historical exemplars. My chosen ones are David (as already said) and the chivalric code of high and late medieval Europe. Many people also look to the men of The Lord of the Rings who are, of course, rooted in the characters of early medieval English and Scandinavian literature.

As for not liking sport, that ties into the above points - a good masculinity is applicable to all men. It's about protecting your wife and children, providing for them, and leading them by word and example. That's what (in my humble opinion) real manliness is. For me, as a Christian (don't know if you're one) the essential masculinity passages are the example of David (1 Samuel 16 to 2 Samuel 23) and Ephesians 5:25-30. Nothing about doing sport or eating steak.

Hope this helps! And don't worry about bothering me, I always like receiving asks in my inbox.

[optimistpax]

ooh I'm thinking of reading tf 2019 but idk if it's for me, could you share more of what you enjoyed about it? I'm curious!

Absolutely!! I'm always down to talk about comics!

Gonna throw my thoughts under the cut bc oops this got really long really fast... i have a lot of thoughts

TLDR: I like it bc it's easy to get into organization/access wise, it's soooo pretty to look at, has genres I personally enjoy and find fun, has a lot of characters I vibe with, and its themes are empathetic and hopeful which is nice to read about when life is tough

Organization

So the first thing that I think rocks about the 2019 comics is that they are actually organized in volumes that make sense from the get go. All the main story AND side stories are compiled in chronological order. This may not seem like anything significant, but I have major beef with serialized American comics about this so imo this is great skldjfg. Also!!! 5/6 of these volumes are on overdrive! So if they aren't already on your libraries library app (libby or hoopla), then the library can absolutely get you them if you ask! I'm certain that the 6th volume will be up there soon, it did come out relatively recently tho so it might be a month or two. It's also only 4 years/6 volumes long so it's not an overwhelming amount of content to read, which is nice :)

Art

Another thing I really love about the 2019 comics is the art!! They've got a couple artists that are series regulars, but 9 times out of 10 they knock it out of the park! Usually I'm bothered by a series jumping around different artists, but the regulars have similar enough art styles that with the colourists help, it's not that noticeable when they do switch around, which is really nice! I also Looooove the use of colour dots (i dont think they're screentones in this case? since they're quite big and used as a texture thing? idk im not a professional comic artist.) You can see some in my header! It's a double page spread from the first volume!! gorgeous stuff :)

Genre/Story

As for the story itself, I think it'll really depend what kind of genres you like reading. It starts on Cybertron before the war, which is fun to see since we get to learn a little about their culture, history, and geology. The genre starts off as a murder mystery and evolves into a political drama before finally dissolving into something more action-y. So it's not for everyone, but I personally had a fantastic time!

Characters

The 2019 comics have a MASSIVE cast of characters. There are so many characters that there's bound to be at least a FEW that you really enjoy! Lots of more obscure characters from the depths of tf lore that haven't really been developed in mainstream media (afaik) get some time to shine (Flamewar, Roadrage, Jumpstream, Javelin, Lightbright, and Subsea to name a few) and also introduces some new characters (Termagax, Codexa, Geomotus, Exarchon, Cryak, Rubble, Gauge, Lodestar) which imo were really fun to see! There's also a surprisingly large (relatively fleshed out) female cast which is refreshing to see in a franchise that originated as Reagan-era toy ads lmao.

I say relatively fleshed out bc the massive cast of characters is one of the series biggest strengths, but it's definitely also one of its biggest weaknesses. Since there are so many characters sharing limited panel time it's difficult for the series to explore them in depth bc there are just SO MANY. They're also using the toy designs where they exist (see: lots of same designs with different colours), so characters are sometimes difficult to tell apart. Esp if they don't show up often and you're not already overly familiar with transformers. Altho my comic book club of non-transformers fans managed to get through the first volume alright (or at least they said they did) so it can't be that unintelligible...

Themes

I really liked the themes in this series! Again, that's a personal preference that'll vary from person to person, but I had fun with this one. I'm not sure if it's the right word, but I think the narrative felt very empathetic(?). Characters were very rooted in their ties to other characters, their relationship with other characters. Something something we're better with the connection to and with the support of others. Some of my favourites character arcs in support of the theme of empathy in no particular order off the top of my head:

Cyclonus and his grief

Arcee and the lasting impact that the PREVIOUS war had on her and her relationships (esp with Greenlight and Gauge)

Gauge getting to CHOOSE her family not because she has to but because she wants to

Sad videogame dad Bumblebee

Geomotus and how he's autistic and taken seriously and respected and also his friendship with Landmine

Optimus being chosen for the matrix because he has the quality of HOPE

Javelin's PTSD

Shadowstriker trying and failing to keep Flamewar from being a gremlin and getting in trouble

Megatron being the pettiest man alive

Starscream's love for Cybertron?? ???

Wheeljack being SO supportive of his mentee Gears

I would apologize for the essay but you DID ask ahaha! Anyways, I definitely think the 2019 comics are at least worth looking into if you're a transformers fan and are looking for some comics to read. I had a blast reading them :)

[ma-lark-ey]

Lark Liveblogs Lit episode 4(?): The Mortal Instruments

Here’s what I know going into it;

Magnus & Alec are endgame, Alec walks away from his marriage???? Very dramatically to kiss Magnus. I, originally, thought these two were reversed but my mate corrected me.

It’s (roughly???) inspired by her old Draco Trilogy (which I did track down and download, will read eventually) and shares the name with a Ron/Ginny fic (which I read. Mortal Instrument was a very fitting title)

And that’s literally all I know before hand;

Unlike the Harry Potter post, I’ll add my thoughts whilst reading and not just completely after finishing. I will still do the entire series post-mortum on each book, though.

City of Bones; (3/11/23)

Alec is EASILY my favorite. I figured it’d be Simon or Magnus because my blorbo history favors Simons and Magnuses, but Alec has CAPTURED my heart and when he almost died to Abbadon I literally cried even though I KNEW he survived.

Clary, on the contrary, is only slightly less boring than Isabelle. I think Isabelle is badass because she’s got a whip but both of these women is like. Go girl! Give us NOTHING! Especially weird because Clary is primarily our perspective character??

Jace & Simon’s weird little dynamic is interesting. I’m not. Its whatever. I don’t hate it, I’m not intrigued. I DO think Alec/Jace is a far superior romance to Jace/Clary. But also maybe my opinion will change. The little kiss in the garden WAS very cute. Jace thinks he’s so cool and he’s literally not. He’s literally so cringe. His snarky sass is so fun as well, obsessed with whatevers going on there.

The cup being IN the Tarot cards was SO cool. I’m obsessed with THAT.

How old is Magnus. Can I be condoning Malec. Is it like, a Calypso situation. Emotionally he act around 19-20, we’re going with that. He feels like a shitty frat boy. How did this man name Magnus Chase he’s so cool and Magnus Chase is the most pathetic meow meow I’ve ever seen.

UMMM??? HODGE??? WHAT THE A C T U A L FUCK. HELLO. NO. NO. I REFUSE. THIS IS SO FUCKED UP WHAT. SO THAT WAS A FUCKING LIE???? Hodge.

Pov you’re my actually mildly hyperventilating at the end of chapter 22.

JACE IS VALENTINES SON??? THEY’RE SIBLINGS??? Really living up to stealing that name from Ron/Ginny fic huh 😭😭 oh god. Cassie… cassie clare… bbg….

So. The Johnathon reveal fr had me set the book down and walk away because I was in HYSTERICS. congrats, Simon! New chance with your girl because the other part of your love triangle was her BROTHER. so—

Newly finished City of Bones. There’s so much going on here. I’ve thoroughly exhausted my thoughts already. Uhm.

All I have left to say is I adore Luke. He’s perfect. And Magnus Bane RUSHING to Alec like that??? OKAY. HOMOSEXUAL MUCH??? Yes sir go get your man. I see you.

2.) City of Ashes (02/05/23-8/17/23)

Simon and Clary are a MESS i love them. Theyre IDIOTS.

Luke is still my beloved

The complex ass dynamic of Jace and Valentine,,, EAT. love it.

Im gonna be so fr i have updated this in six months and dont remember 90% of book teo anymore actually but Vampire Simon was a slay

Wait that didnt happen in this book.

OH. OH. THE SEELIE COURT? INSANE. INSANO FUCKING CRAZY THAT WAS WILD.

this book took me forever to read because second installments are always weak af (Son of Neptune is an exception) and i struggle so bad

Dont remember if it was this book or book three but him almost dying and Jace giving him blood was the GAYEST thing I’ve ever seen and they should make out. Like that was so horny and for what.

YES THAT WAS TEO IM CORRECT because two was the boar fight and three was the city where sebastian whatever the fuck killed max

Moving on.

3.) City of Glass (8/19/23-8/23/23)

THEYRE NOT. SIBLINGS. WIN FOR EVERYONE INVOLED.

Magnus & Alec appeared like twice but im obsessed with Magnus every time he appears im flirting with him hey bb howzit going.

Maya is my FAVORITE ever i love a wolf girl. Also love a fear demon.

The Max death was UNNECESSARY and UNCALLED FOR he was a BABY BOY. what did he ever do to deserve this. He died HOLDING JACE’S SOLDIER. devastating. Awful.

The mark of Kane for Simon was real as shit im obsessed with that.

The Angel reviving Jace was literally so funny silly goofy. He went “god. What the fuck. At least give this kid a chance at being normal” and thats so funny.

I want to study Jace like a bug. Hes so babygirl.

(I’ll reblog with updates as I read the last half of the series 🙏 it’s taking longer bc ~ school ~)

However!

My best mate & I watched the first season of the show & the City of Bones movie and;

Okay we only watched the first like. 45 minutes of City of Bones because we wanted to watch something genuinely bad and it was doing too well. Obsessed with the cast on that, though. We didnt even get to Magnus or Alec because every casting on the movie was good until Isabelle and it was so bad I made my mate turn it off because I Could Not.

I’m on episode ten of season one of Shadowhunters and its not good but it is fun so I’m thriving. Like this show is bad but also its a fun time so we’re thriving.

[vlkodddlak]

For shockwave!

15. Does this tf character ever make anything creative (e.g. writing, drawing, sculpturing)? If so, do they show other people what they’ve made?

16. What do you think this tf character’s opinions regarding humankind is?

THANK U FOR ASKING!! your ask game is super cool!!

im gonna go with tfp shockwave cause he's my fave. my version of him isnt that scary and evil he's just kind of a guy who likes to play around with science and engineering, doesnt know basic safety, and is bad at socializing. he's still kind of a cartoon type villain tho

15. ohh he's creative for sure. it's not always that obvious, but i do like to think that shockwave likes to create things for fun sometimes. about 98% of the stuff he works on are projects that will help the decepticon cause, but he does occassionally get a spark of creativity and decides to make something for himself. it's not art in a traditional sense, like poetry, music, etc, but it's enough to count as art (in my opinion)

the 'art' he creates may include stuff like: 1) creating little gadgets that have no practical use, they just look cool

2) playing with chemicals just to get some interesting reaction. like putting some liquids together just cause it makes them change colors in a pretty way or something

3) adding decorative designs to his creations, again, simply for the esthetics

ok ok i know these sound silly, but when you think about the fact that shockwave is a serious, 'logical' character and not someone artsy, these little actions DO count as creative! think about it!!

he NEVER shows others, tho. it's not that he's insecure about his craft, it's simply not something that he wants to share. i wouldnt say that the creative things he does are personal (he probably doesnt see any artistic value in his little projects, it's just for fun after all) but his art comes from feelings and thoughts deep within him that even he doesn't like to admit (like idk... the fact that he can be happy and enjoy something? no one should know that! 😡). basically, he's not comfortable showing his creativity to others, unless it's someone he knows for a long time and absolutely trusts, which isnt a lot of people...sigh hes so weird

16. oh he couldn't care less. like, fr. i mean if the decepticons want to transform Earth and eradicate all life including humans then he'll just... go along with it yknow? his main focus is helping megatron, it's all he really cares about....BUT! i do think that there's a chance he COULD develop some sort of care for humanity? i can't say it confidently, but i do think he would be able to connect with humans through his favorite things - science and technology!

human technology is WAY behind cybertronian one, but shockwave might find himself curious about it! well, to be specific, he would find interest in HOW humans came to their discoveries and research. humans are such a small, young species after all! how come they've done and discovered so much in so little time? (this is all relatively speaking lol)

of course, over time he would be interested in more than just human technology. he would also look into human history, art, language...probably anything regarding humans. if he's focused on something, he is focused A LOT. shockwave human hyperfixation real

eventually his slight interest for human science would turn into fascination and later... appreciation? maybe? it would take him a pretty long time and he would definitely need someone or something (preferably a human friend) to convince him to even look into human stuff, since he doesnt view humanity as anything important from the start... but yea! i like to think that this big purple mf would go from "humans small and weak and stupid and unimportant" to "humans small and weak...and kinda cool"

ahhh i can't believe i wrote so much omg.... embarrassing! 😞😞anyway yea shockwave is my fucking fictional fidget toy, whenever i'm bored i poke him and squish him in my brain

[erectedingold]

Life Update

Writing this on my phone, think i might rn getting a little sick 😓

but lots going on rn, started school & tbh as i get older i realize school ain’t that bad bro! im so thankful for my classes & i dropped a science class cause fuck science i hate that shit SO MUCH. but when i was doing that i mentioned in my email to my guidance counselor the college im wanting to go to & she says to me “you probably won’t get in your gpa isn’t there & your SAT scores aren’t there as well, maybe check out *college*”

first of don’t talk to me like that. i know academically i am far from great but my talent & ambition outweighs ALL of that. never tell an artist they can’t go to an art school they deadass don’t even have math classes there dude like who tf do you think you are? i know my talent & what i can & cannot do so don’t doubt me ever again bitch LMAO. second don’t tell me where YOU think i should go. like please. i am being so fr don’t ever tell me where i belong because ill go where i want. so watch yourself the next time you talk to me.

that whole interaction ruined my day. my whole life i’ve been doubted but i know who i am & what i can do.

but i wrote my essay & it’s amazing, & now im gonna get 2 letters of recommendation from my teachers. one from my english teacher & the other from my business teacher. then i got 2 open responses i need to write for & then i can send my applications. if i don’t get into this school im applying for in boston idk what ima do tbh, im applying to one in NY & one in NYC but like fuck bro i’d rather one here in boston especially when i have friends here. also applying to one in california 😴

but back to school, i think the older i get the more i realize how EASY shit is, my math is easy, my english is easy, intro to psychology easy, history is a joke, & my related class is easy. it’s just managing time in the class room like damn it makes me annoyed that my senior year of high school i don’t have anxiety with school anymore 😭 is what it is though that just makes this year easier for me 🙏

my new film is dropping tomorrow i’m really nervous for it i’ll be honest idk why, im afraid of it getting NO views but also it doesn’t matter it’s my art & im proud of it 😴 it don’t matter what anyone thinks because i do it for me 🤷 i make art because creating makes me feel alive. that’s what i do it for, i make because its second nature to me, it’s like breathing i don’t think about to at all it comes so naturally to me & im truly blessed to have my brain this way.

i hope everyone who views it can feel the passion though 🙏

I’m also not taking any disrespect anymore, i’ve been on my journaling shit & some more self development. i’m going to start reading more because i want to be a better writer & also expose myself to more challenging material. i’ve been watching more international films which has been on my list for a while, subtitles aren’t that scary guys! enjoy the art made around the world never let a language barrier stop you from that.

but also finally just more self discovery on my end & solidifying my boundaries whether people like it or not because i will NOT allow myself to be disrespected in my one life. idgaf if it’s just “jokes” because my perception is my reality & if your joke is disrespectful then shut the fuck up 🤷 i also won’t be giving my energy to people who don’t match or or appreciate me. you don’t deserve me. there some people who i show nothing but kindness & give the biggest helping hand to when needed & i don’t get that energy back so guess what im not trying anymore because you’re not worth my time. simple as that.

i’m not going to give pieces of myself to people who no longer deserve it. i know that i always have good intentions & share my kindness always & i will no longer allow myself to be a doormat. people have mistaken my kindness for weakness & i won’t let them mistake it anymore.

i don’t have to have everyone like me or respect me so boom if you don’t get out of my life i don’t need you because when i look in the mirror i love myself & respect myself & that’s all i need. as long as you have yourself you have somebody.

i’m also cutting out some bad habits that i started that have been damaging to myself. i deserve better because i love me.

i am proud of me & who i’m becoming. ive been making big changes this year & im telling you 2025 will be the year of diego. im manifesting it.

but yeah i’ve been getting closer with my dawg nathan much respect & love to him always. amazing & talented filmmaker who is my best friend dude & im happy me & him have gotten closer recently. we both got broken up with around the same time & we’ve talked like everyday since dude, the universe has plans for us. we’re gonna be great i can feel it.

&& speaking of universe that’s another thing. the universe has a plan for everyone including you reading 🙏 if you feel lost something will happen to bring you onto the right track of self discovery & self love. keep going even when it’s hard because the reward will be great. i have full trust that everything i manifest will come to life & i’ll reach all my goals.

thank you for reading this blog post, lots of changes in my life & i am human & experiencing & living & breathing & feeling emotions. thankful for my mind.

- Diego Muñoz

[howyouloveyourdragon]

part 2 is here!!

And though it went against every instinct he had to ask for it, he would much rather admit this weakness – this shortcoming – than suffer seeing that disappointment on her sweet face each time he came to her.

that's actually sweet considering how much i imagine he cares about his pride

the man had seeded twenty-seven surviving legitimate children thus far,

christ almighty

but for Aemond to ‘woo’ her.

the word is time and context accurate for sure but i can't stop imagining him saying 'woo her' with jazz hands and idk why but it's beautiful

More than anything, he wanted her to love him – as he loved her.

“I need her to like me,” he sighed, feeling not like the fearsome Prince and warrior he was, but like a whimpering, desperate child.

Before he had failed to protect Aemond from their bastard nephews – spurred on by the very teasing Aegon had once led them in.

AEGON LORE LETS GO BESTIES

Your brow instantly furrowed in anger. Did he really think you were so stupid you could not understand a simple book meant for children?

this girl like me fr

He finally blinked and leaned across the table, truly reaching for your hand now. “No… I didn’t…”

oh babe you've royally fucked it before you even started

It was stupid of you to even want to read about Targaryen history, you scolded yourself. It was little more than a repetitive tale of countless generations of dragonriders who all shared the same handful of names. A stupid story about a stupid civilisation.

no bby i love you somebody please help me give this woman a sword

So, as you sipped your tea, you allowed yourself to fall into the world of your book – a world of grand adventure, mythical beasts, and a pirate lord with a dashing smile and eyepatch…

Aemond was carrying a small bouquet of dog roses, your favourite flower.

They seemed so out of place against the wall of black leather that was Aemond.

OH MY GOD IT'S LIKE THE HOUSE MEME YES

Distantly, you heard Aemond saying your name, drawing your attention back to him. He was frowning, his brow crumpled. “I thought…” he whispered, “I thought you would like them.”

AWWW THIS MAN IS TRYING

Then he turned, stumbling into the table once more, and left.

pfffttt boy is so goofy when it comes to her

Because you made your decision to attend the evening meal at the last minute, the rest of the family had already begun eating when you arrived.

yesss

Aemond, who sat facing the door, was the first to see you. His eye immediately went wide, and he stood so quickly that a servant had to catch his chair before it toppled to the ground.

AWWWW

What you were not aware of was Prince Aegon’s eyes on you, noticing each time your eyes slid to his brother. Every so often, he would dip his chin and raise his brows when he made eye contact with Aemond, nodding toward you in encouragement.

boy wants to play matchmaker so bad that it gonna make him look stupid i can feel it

Aemond noticed, but did nothing to act on it. Not until the meal was ended and everyone rose from the table. He stepped to your side and extended his arm, accidentally bumping you, rather firmly, with his sharp elbow and causing you to jump away from him.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

at the near-pleading in his eye,

AWWWWW

“This dress suits you much better than the one you wore yesterday, and is far more flattering than your nightclothes.”

what the diddly daddly da da?

You did not speak to your maids as they prepared you for bed until they presented you with one of your favourite cotton nightgowns and your robe.

STOPPP I WANNA GIVE HER A HUG

In the hall, Aemond took a stumbling step forward to rest his forehead against your door, his hand resting on the handle but not moving. He stayed like that for many long moments, silently cursing himself, before he stepped away and retreated to his own chambers.

i would like to donate this man a brain but im not sure he deserves it yet

He was right. It was not flattering. Your father had it made when you were younger, and he had obviously expected you to grow as large and tall as your brothers. But you had not, and the robe still overwhelmed your frame.

no sweet girl i bet it's beautiful

But worse than the aching in your bones and the heaviness of your head was the sinking feeling in your stomach when your maids told you that Aemond had sent word asking you to come watch him fight in the training yard.

You braced for another grimace, but it did not come. Were it not for the slight, almost hopeful raise of his brows, you would think him completely indifferent.

i don't know how to describe it but author if your reading this, your writing keeps sending little shockwaves to my heart i swear

Aemond did not attend the family meal that evening. He could not bear to face his wife after such a mortifying display.

babe you're only making it worse

Perhaps the next day, Cole would give him his wooden practice sword back. He would deserve it, for both his abysmal performance and his arrogance.

oh god he has so much trauma can we bundle him up? someone get the blankets i'll get the hot coco

When he was naked and laid himself across his bed, his cock was suitably hard and leaking. Still, he reached for the small phial of oil Aegon gave him when he suggested he ‘practice building his stamina.’

Then, you wished you had not gotten out of bed at all. There was another note from your husband – he wanted to meet you for a walk in the gardens.

You spent the entire walk through the castle praying. To the Father for forgiveness for your sin. To the Mother for forgiveness for failing your husband and to beg that his seed quickened the next time. To the Crone for the wisdom to be a good wife – again, as the same prayer had obviously not worked the first time. To the Warrior, for the courage you would need to face Aemond. To the Smith, to repair what had been broken between you. And to the Stranger for whatever you had forgotten to include in your prayers to the others.

nooo get that religious guilt out of here lovie

poor bby

You found yourself almost smiling at him, at the sentiment he offered. Then, nodding, you stepped forward and awkwardly held your hand out for a moment before returning it to your side. “I have not yet had the chance to see the gardens. Will you show me?”

they're growinggg

“It is wisteria,” Aemond said after a moment, pointing with a finger to trace its path from its roots to the very ends of the vine some twenty feet away on a trellis. “At the end of spring, it will produce hanging blooms that are a lovely shade of purple.” You looked up at him, at his one eye and its lovely shade of purple – the colour of wisteria, you realised. Before you knew it, you were smiling so wide it hurt your cheeks. “I know,” you replied, your voice almost a laugh. “It is one of my favourites.”

they're connectingg

To your credit, you did not cry until you were back in your rooms.

Curious but cautious, you only grabbed the note before settling back into your seat to read it:

LETS GO BESTIES

I pray you will like him, perhaps even learn to love him. For he loves you so very, very much

STOPPP IM GONNA SOB

So, after one last prayer, you set Aemond’s note back on the table, picked up the diary, and began to read.

Studious II (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+

After your last coupling, Prince Aemond has been acting quite strangely toward you. It doesn't make sorting out your own feeling for him any easier...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: smut (kinda?) , male masturbation, female masturbation (attempted), more Aegon commentary, more Aemond awkwardness

Author's Note: WOW, I was not expecting anyone to like my awkward Aemond brain dump, but boy howdy did y'all... I hope this lives up to the hype!

Read Part I Here

My Masterlist

Taglist below the cut

Studious II

The day after his marriage, utterly distraught by the look of confusion and dissatisfaction on his wife’s face after the bedding, Prince Aemond Targaryen came to terms with the fact that he desperately needed help. And though it went against every instinct he had to ask for it, he would much rather admit this weakness – this shortcoming – than suffer seeing that disappointment on her sweet face each time he came to her.

He went to Grand Maester Orwyle first. For while he had taken a vow of chastity, his knowledge of anatomy would be more than useful. Besides, he had always been kind and patient with Aemond during their lessons in his youth – he would not judge the Prince for this failing.

For more practical knowledge, he asked Lord Jasper Wylde, his father’s Master of Laws. His long-held position on the Small Council proved he could be trusted. More than that, the man had seeded twenty-seven surviving legitimate children thus far, and another was soon expected. ‘Ironrod’ clearly knew what he was doing.

Lastly, Aemond reluctantly enlisted the help of his older brother. He had his doubts about whether Aegon actually knew anything useful. Still, no one could deny that he had more relevant experience than anyone in King’s Landing who was not a whore.

Aemond listened to their advice diligently, as if it were no different from anything else he had studied. And, like always, he had been a good student.

The glorious sounds his wife had made when he started putting his lessons to use still echoed in his mind. The gentle whine when he had kissed her. The sharp inhale when he had started caressing her. The shiver that ran through her when he found her ‘pearl,’ as Aegon had called it. And her delicious gasp when he found that sweet spot inside her.

But there were other sounds – worse sounds. The alarm in her voice after he had brushed his tongue against her lips. Her confusion as to why he was touching her at all. How her eyes had gone wide with panic when he began to pleasure her, and how she had begged him to stop.

And every time he closed his eyes, he saw her hiding her face in her pillows after he smiled at seeing her find her own pleasure as he thrust into her – as though the very idea of enjoying being with him was something incomprehensible. Like it scared her.

She hadn’t wanted to look at him, kiss him, or be pleased by him. And she hadn’t come.

So, he assembled his advisors the next day, seeking some explanation of what he had done wrong. Or new instructions on how to please her in a way she wouldn’t eschew.

They had quickly decided the solution wasn’t some new technique, but for Aemond to ‘woo’ her.

The prospect at once delighted and terrified him.

At least he had advisors to help him figure out how.

Indeed, Lord Wylde had taken on the demeanour of a man plotting a war. He asked Aemond to list every detail he knew about his new bride and wrote everything he said word-for-word on a piece of parchment, along with his own commentary and musings on strategies.

Aegon’s comments and observations, mostly concerning her breasts, were not written down.

But the elder Prince did not mind, as he was quickly distracted by his own interrogation of Grand Maester Orwyle. He wanted to know precisely when, why, and how the Maester had pleasured Helaena.

Once Orwyle finished giving him the details, it was clear the Prince was far more impressed than offended. When Aegon finally turned back to the matter at hand, the Maester said a silent prayer of thanks that he was not going to lose his head.

After more than an hour of strategising, they had devised several courses of action for Aemond to try.

“She will be so enamoured by you that you won’t even have to touch her to get her to come,” Aegon declared proudly.

Orwyle and Wylde winced at the Prince’s crass words, but could not deny they also felt confident in the plan.

Aemond growled at his brother, eye blazing with rage. “This isn’t just about sex, Aegon. I want... I want her to like me.”

He sighed and slumped in his chair, running a hand over his flushed face. While he would never admit it aloud, he wanted so much more than to just be liked by his wife.

He wanted her to feel the same thing he felt exploding in his chest every time he looked at her. The intensity of the feeling was more frightening than losing his eye had been. And more thrilling than his first flight on Vhagar.

More than anything, he wanted her to love him – as he loved her.

But as his fingers grazed the leather strap of his eyepatch, he knew it was an impossible dream.

She was so beautiful. So gentle and kind. So pure and full of light.

He was monstrous. In the years since losing his eye, he had become as hideous in his soul as he was in the flesh. He had delved so deep into the darkness of his anger, resentment, and hatred that he knew there was no escape.

Until she had come into his life.

From the first moment he saw her step out of her father’s carriage, he knew that if she looked on him affectionately and allowed her holy light to shine upon him just once… perhaps he could be saved from damnation.

“I need her to like me,” he sighed, feeling not like the fearsome Prince and warrior he was, but like a whimpering, desperate child.

A dozen snide, and admittedly quite witty, comments died on Aegon’s lips. Once, he would not have hesitated to say them, to laugh at the hurt in his brother’s eyes.

But that was before Driftmark.

Before he had failed to protect Aemond from their bastard nephews – spurred on by the very teasing Aegon had once led them in. Though he wasn’t there when the eye was actually cut, he knew that if he hadn’t been such a twat before then, his brother would be whole.

He would still be an awkward, pathetic mess with no clue how to fuck a woman properly, but… he wouldn’t think himself so unworthy of his wife.

“Well,” Aegon drawled, slipping back into the mask of the blithe, carefree Prince everyone knew him to be. “I think we can at least manage ‘like.’ Now, get off your brooding ass, woo the girl, and make her come!”

-

You sat comfortably in a secluded corner of the Red Keep’s library, reading the book you had been forced to set down after your husband’s arrival in your chambers the night before.

Libraries were all the same, no matter where they were. The peaceful quiet interrupted only by the turning of heavy pages every so often. The soft shafts of yellow sunlight streaming through the small windows – stained glass, if you were lucky. The smell of old paper and well-worn leather.

It was far too easy to imagine you were back in your father’s library at home. Even better, this little corner you found felt as private as your own rooms.

More private, perhaps. Here, Prince Aemond could not barge in requesting you perform your marital duties.

Or so you thought.

A shadow stopped in front of you, blocking out the mottled sunlight you were using to read. Thinking that perhaps it was later than you’d thought, and one of the Maesters had come to tell you that you’d once again stayed past the library curfew, you looked up with a polite smile.

And met the single violet eye of your husband.

“Good afternoon, wife,” he greeted, dipping his head slightly and giving a decidedly awkward smile.

With his dimples, he was very nearly handsome when he smiled. But it did not quite reach his eye, and his brow was set too hard for you to truly see him as such.

Blinking rapidly as you tried to quickly hide your disappointment that your private reading spot was discovered, you returned the smile as best you could. “Husband.”

Aemond stared at you as though he expected more, as was apparently his habit, but you only stared back.

Why should it fall to you to put more effort into the marriage than he did?

Finally, he cleared his throat slightly. “I was wondering if I may join you in your reading? I noticed last night that you were reading Valyrian history. It is a favourite subject of mine.”

Indeed, you had begun studying the history of House Targaryen more in-depth the moment your betrothal was announced. You wanted to familiarise yourself with the family you were to join.

Though your ideas about becoming a true member of the family faded quickly, you continued your research. As much as the disappointment of your marriage had made you loathe to admit it, it was a fascinating history.

But now it meant Aemond wanted to read with you…

“I am sure you’ve read this particular history before,” you said, shyly showing him the title. It was little more than a beginner’s primer, almost more a storybook than a proper history, but you had to start somewhere. “Would you not rather read something more… novel?”

He laughed slightly, and you realised you had just unintentionally made a play on words. And not even a particularly clever one.

“Seeing my family’s history through your eyes would be quite ‘novel,’ as you so cleverly put it,” he replied, obviously quite determined, if he was willing to compliment you.

Was that… the first compliment he ever gave you?

When he smiled at you like that, it brought you back to the way he smiled when he had done… whatever it was he had done while he was inside you that made your vision burst into stars.

You blushed as heat pooled in your stomach at the memory, and the feelings that came with it. Your feelings about him, which you hadn’t yet allowed yourself to sort through – if you even wanted to.

He had made you feel so small and unwanted in the training yard when he grimaced and ran away from you. But then he had touched you so gently and gazed at you reverently at your slight gasp of pleasure like it was as beautiful a sound as he’d ever heard.

And then he left. Again.

But that was what you wanted – wasn’t it?

You had no idea what you wanted. And right now, figuring it out wasn’t your primary concern.

What he wanted from you was.

You prayed it was honestly just to discuss history.

So, you smiled as genuinely as you could and gestured to the seat across from you. “Then I would be… happy to have you join me.”

His eye lingered slightly on the seat next to you, but he nodded and took the seat you indicated.

You looked at him. He looked at you.

“Should I…” you began, at the exact moment he opened his mouth to speak.

You looked down, clamping your lips shut to let him speak first – as a good wife does.

He let out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sigh before setting his hand on the table. You watched as he flexed his fingers, wondering for a moment if he wanted you to reach out as well – if he wanted to hold your hand.

It was a ridiculous thought. One you silently scolded yourself for as you gripped the book harder, keeping your hands firmly where they were.

Silence fell as he mulled over his words, the left corner of his mouth twitching every so often as though he had almost decided what to say. Not wanting to interrupt, you simply sat there, pondering how uncomfortable you had become in this once-soothing place.

When it was just you, you savoured the silence. When he was here, you abhorred it.

“Do you have any questions?” Aemond asked, finally breaking the silence.

His words confused you. Was he referring to the book or to him? You had so many questions about what he had done last night, though you were more than a little afraid to ask them.

“What kind of questions should I have?” you replied, ashamed by how small your voice came out. Hopefully, he interpreted it as respect for the library.

He quirked his head, his lips again spreading in that not-quite smile, not-quite frown he often made after you had said something to him. Then, on the table, his hand curled into a fist.

“Just…” he gestured to the book. “Questions about what you don’t understand. I would be more than happy to help you.”

If your mind had been clearer, perhaps you would have seen the offer for what it was: a genuine desire to help and, perhaps, a way to get to know you better.

But something about Aemond clouded all your good sense as thoroughly as a stormy sea.

Your brow instantly furrowed in anger. Did he really think you were so stupid you could not understand a simple book meant for children?

“I have no questions,” you said coldly, your voice louder and harder than before.

Aemond blinked, his eye widening as he reached further across the table toward you. “I… I have studied the histories extensively, and I know they are complicated and difficult to understand. If there is anything that you are struggling with, or – ”

“Of course,” you cut him off. All your mother’s advice about how to be a good, dutiful wife was long forgotten as your anger rose higher and higher. “It is quite a difficult book. The words, I’m afraid, are well past my simple understanding. I’ve actually only been looking at the illustrations.”

His face was frozen, his eye wide, and his mouth hanging slightly open. He looked remarkably like a freshly caught fish. You laughed at the thought, slammed the book shut, and stood.

“Although,” you hissed. “Even the pictures have started to become too ‘complicated’ for me. I’m afraid my headache is returning.”

He finally blinked and leaned across the table, truly reaching for your hand now. “No… I didn’t…”

You stepped away, harshly pulling your hand away from his. “If you will excuse me, husband. I must rest before the evening meal, or else I fear I will be too exhausted to participate in any intelligent conversation.”

That look of hurt again came over Aemond’s face, but you were far too angry to care. As you stomped out of the library, you did look back at him once.

If you had, you would have seen him slump over in his chair with his head in his hands before he pounded his clenched fist against the wood table, earning quite the scolding from a nearby Maester.

-

You once again did not attend the evening meal with Aemond and his family.

It had been a hard decision to come to. You had even dressed before finally deciding to remain in your rooms. But in the end, you supposed that the consequences of missing a second night would be easier to endure than an evening sitting next to your husband.

Your husband, who so obviously disliked you and thought you were an idiot.

That was what he had insinuated, wasn’t it? Why else would he have offered you help in understanding a children’s history book?

It was stupid of you to even want to read about Targaryen history, you scolded yourself. It was little more than a repetitive tale of countless generations of dragonriders who all shared the same handful of names. A stupid story about a stupid civilisation.

But as you sat at your desk eating your solitary meal, you couldn’t help but wish you hadn’t left the book in the library.

You contemplated sending one of your maids to fetch it, but you had no doubt Aemond would hear about it. That is, if he hadn’t just taken it himself.

Oh gods, what if he had?

He would find the notes you had made and tucked into the cover – including the family tree you sketched to keep all the names straight. It would only confirm his suspicions about your intellect.

You could picture his smug smile when he found the notes. The way the corners of his mouth would lift just enough to expose his dimples. There would be an arrogant twinkle in that violet eye. Perhaps he would be so amused by his simple-minded wife that he would have to bite his lip to hold back a laugh. Those lovely pink lips that had felt so soft on yours…

Shaking your head violently to banish the foolish, lustful thoughts, you took a long drink of your wine. Hopefully, it would soothe your nerves enough for you to think about anything but Aemond. Or at least enough to calm your breathing and banish the heat that bloomed beneath your thighs.

Once again, you lost your appetite and sent your meal away only half-eaten.

You needed to pray.

That was the only answer. The only way you could rid your mind of these horrible, sinful thoughts.

You had only just grabbed your copy of The Seven-Pointed Star when there was a knock at the door.

Not again.

“Who is it?” you asked, heart pounding with both nervousness and anticipation.

“It is Grand Maester Orwyle, Princess,” came an unfamiliar voice. “The Queen sent word you were unwell.”

A great wave of relief and disappointment washed over you, your book falling to the floor as your hands went slack. “Yes, come in,” you called.

Then, to yourself, you whispered, “I am quite unwell, indeed.”

-

The next afternoon, you sat comfortably on your couch, still in your nightgown and robe. It was improper, yes. But after assessing you in your somewhat panicked state the night before, Orwyle commanded you be relieved of your duties for the next few days.

‘Duties’ was a strong word, as your responsibilities only required you to stand silently next to your husband at court and gossip with the Ladies in the afternoon.

Still, you were glad to be rid of them, even if only for a few days. You had plans to go to Sept and pray and to sort out your feelings for your husband – the frightening, complicated feelings that had you so rattled that the Grand Maester himself thought you to be genuinely ill.

But not today.

Today, you would simply rest, drink your chamomile tea, and read the books your maid had fetched from the library.

None of them were history books. That had been the one requirement you had. Well, that and no romance.

So, as you sipped your tea, you allowed yourself to fall into the world of your book – a world of grand adventure, mythical beasts, and a pirate lord with a dashing smile and eyepatch…

Damn.

You threw the book aside, dangerously near the lit hearth, and crossed your arms. But before you could get too far into your wallowing, there was a knock at your door. Again.

“Who is it?” you called, eyes blazing as though you could see through the wood and smite whoever stood behind the door.

There was silence.

“It is Aemond,” came his soft, melodic voice. “May I please come in?”

You clenched your jaw, willing yourself to say ‘no. No, I don’t want to see you.’

“Yes, you may,” your voice said instead. You baulked, unsure how the words came out so wrong.

The moment he stepped through the door, you turned your eyes down. You didn’t want to look at him, for you knew if you did, your logic would abandon you as whatever it was you felt for him overcame you.

But then you caught a flash of bright pink, and your head snapped up.

Aemond was carrying a small bouquet of dog roses, your favourite flower.

The large blooms were the most vibrant pink you had ever seen, perhaps even more so than in the fields where they grew back at home. Even the dot of yellow in their centres seemed as bright as the sun.

They seemed so out of place against the wall of black leather that was Aemond.

Slowly, you looked up from the flowers to face your husband. He had crossed the room to stand before you – awkwardly, as always. His lips were pursed, and his brow set in a deep furrow.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly and quietly, stiffly holding the flowers out to you. “For what I said yesterday.”

You did not move to take them. Did not blink. Did not breathe.

“I did not mean to offend you,” he continued, arm still extended. With the flowers only inches from your face, you could see how tightly he held the stems – his knuckles were bone white. “I spoke without thinking, and my words did not accurately reflect my intentions. I only meant – ”

His voice faltered as you reached up for the flowers. You did not want him to snap the stems. They would die more quickly if he did.

As your fingers brushed his, he flinched, dropping the flowers unceremoniously onto your lap. You immediately grabbed them, carefully examining each bloom to ensure it was not damaged. Thankfully, they were intact.

You stared and stared at them, memories flooding your mind. Every year, your entire family would journey to the fields where the dog roses bloomed. First, you would picnic together in the grass, the happiest meal of the year. Then, when you were finished, you and your siblings would race to examine each flower, competing to see who could find the loveliest bloom.

They would do so without you this year.

Distantly, you heard Aemond saying your name, drawing your attention back to him. He was frowning, his brow crumpled. “I thought…” he whispered, “I thought you would like them.”

You blinked, confused by his words. But the motion sent the tears welling in your eyes spilling down your cheeks. You were so caught up in your memories you did not notice you were crying.

As you looked back down at the flowers, you missed the subtle movement of Aemond’s hand, reaching out to wipe the tears away. Instead, when you moved away, he clenched his fist so tightly that his nails began to bite into his palm.

“I miss home,” was all you could say before the tears began to fall in earnest.

Aemond stepped back, bumping into the low table before the couch. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. “I did not mean to upset you.”

Then he turned, stumbling into the table once more, and left.

As the sound of the shutting door echoed in your mind, you did not know whether you were still crying from your homesickness, or because he had left you again.

-

After Aemond left, and you had finally stopped crying, you had one of your maids set the bouquet in a vase. But not before you had carefully inspected each stem to be sure they were intact.

Somehow, they were.

You put the vase on your vanity where the flowers could catch the sunlight before crawling into your bed, intending to take a nap after what was an unintentionally exhausting morning.

But you did not find sleep.

Instead, you stared at the ceiling, thinking over what Aemond said.

He had apologised for making you feel stupid, and then you immediately cried over flowers.

You had never felt more stupid.

And now you felt like you needed to apologise.

So, despite having Orwyle’s official permission to skip all your obligations, you finally rose from your bed as the sun set and asked your maids to dress you for dinner.

Because you made your decision to attend the evening meal at the last minute, the rest of the family had already begun eating when you arrived.

Aemond, who sat facing the door, was the first to see you. His eye immediately went wide, and he stood so quickly that a servant had to catch his chair before it toppled to the ground.

Aegon began laughing hysterically.

Queen Alicent shushed him once before she stood, giving you a mildly concerned but otherwise pleasant smile. “I’m so glad you could join us, my dear,” she said pleasantly as she gestured for you to sit. “We were beginning to worry about you.”

“I have simply been tired,” you assured her as you slowly walked around the table to your place. Curious, they had still set a place for you, despite your missing the last two meals. “Adjusting to life at court has been more difficult than I thought.”

As you came to stand before your chair, Aemond held a hand out to help you sit. Then, just as you had only hours before, you looked from his hand to his face. His brow was still set in a furrow, but he was almost smiling.

You took his hand, squeezing it tighter than you usually would. The only forgiveness you could give while being watched by his mother, grandsire, and siblings.

He seemed to understand, giving you a real smile – a breathtakingly beautiful smile – as you sat. You wanted to return it, but all your lips would do was tremble pathetically. You were sure that if you opened your mouth, you would burst into tears. So, you fixed your eyes on your plate and listened to the idle conversation around you.

Aemond himself began serving your plate, somehow knowing exactly what you liked and what you didn’t. When he finished, you looked over to him briefly and nodded your thanks, earning another of those beautiful smiles.

Your stomach flipped, and you told yourself it was only because you were hungry.

Neither you nor Aemond said anything to each other for the rest of the meal. Instead, you were more than content to simply listen. Or try to.

You were all too aware of every movement Aemond made. The way his long, elegant fingers gripped his goblet. The severe line of his jaw moving when he responded to his grandsire’s questions. The way he sat, legs bowed slightly outward to allow him comfortably at the table.

If you weren’t careful, your leg would brush against his.

You made sure to be very careful.

What you were not aware of was Prince Aegon’s eyes on you, noticing each time your eyes slid to his brother. Every so often, he would dip his chin and raise his brows when he made eye contact with Aemond, nodding toward you in encouragement.

Aemond noticed, but did nothing to act on it.

Not until the meal was ended and everyone rose from the table. He stepped to your side and extended his arm, accidentally bumping you, rather firmly, with his sharp elbow and causing you to jump away from him.

“I’m sorry,” Aemond said hastily. “I just… I hoped I could escort you back to your chambers?”

You looked at him for a moment, at the near-pleading in his eye, and nodded, slipping your arm into his for the first time since your wedding ceremony, and began to lead you through the castle halls.

As your private chambers were separate from the rest of the family’s, you were alone as you walked. You were not sure whether you were grateful for it or not.

The silence was palpable and nearly painful.

“Thank you,” you whispered, and Aemond stumbled at the unexpected sound. “For the flowers, I mean. They are a favourite from home.”

You looked up at him, and he gave another half-smile, but said nothing.

Silence fell once more.

“You look very beautiful tonight,” Aemond said, nearly shouting the sudden words. The corner of his lips twitched when you looked at him in shock. “This dress suits you much better than the one you wore yesterday, and is far more flattering than your nightclothes.”

Any warmth you felt at the initial compliment was thoroughly snuffed out at the remainder of the comment. Though you once more felt like crying, you schooled your features into indifference as you turned away from him, only looking straight ahead.

“I did not know you disliked them so,” you muttered, removing your arm from his and clasping your hands in front of you. You fixed your gaze straight ahead and did not waver. “I will not wear them again.”

Aemond stilled, but you did not break your stride. You only knew he followed after a moment when you heard the soft sounds of his boots against stone.

You walked in silence until you reached your door, then turned back to him. “Is there anything you require of me tonight, husband?”

He wore that expression of hurt that caused your chest to tighten, but you did not allow yourself to react. Finally, after a long moment, he licked his lips and shook his head once.

That was all the dismissal you needed. You opened your door just enough to slip through and shut it firmly behind you.

You did not speak to your maids as they prepared you for bed until they presented you with one of your favourite cotton nightgowns and your robe.

“Not those,” you whispered, though you longed for their comfort and warmth. “Something else. Anything else.”

They dressed you in one of the thin silk nightdresses, one which matched the colour of the dress you just removed. Though it was soft and luxurious against your skin, as you settled beneath your covers, you felt cold.

In the hall, Aemond took a stumbling step forward to rest his forehead against your door, his hand resting on the handle but not moving. He stayed like that for many long moments, silently cursing himself, before he stepped away and retreated to his own chambers.

-

The following day, you woke still feeling tired. It had been hard to find sleep when you felt so cold. When curling into yourself still did not warm you, you rose from the bed and stalked to your dressing room, determined to find your more comfortable nightclothes.

But the moment you ran your hand over the well-worn brocade of your robe, Aemond’s words again echoed in your mind.

He was right. It was not flattering. Your father had it made when you were younger, and he had obviously expected you to grow as large and tall as your brothers. But you had not, and the robe still overwhelmed your frame.

Your maids had offered to take it in to make it fit better, but you had denied them. You liked the way you could disappear into it, how it could double as a blanket, the way it streamed behind you as you ran through the halls of your father’s keep.

It was familiar – it was home.

Now Aemond had ruined it, as he had your dreams of a happy marriage.

Reluctantly, you rang the bell for your maids, apologising for the late hour, and asked for another blanket.

But worse than the aching in your bones and the heaviness of your head was the sinking feeling in your stomach when your maids told you that Aemond had sent word asking you to come watch him fight in the training yard.

No reason was given. Why would there be? A man did not need a reason to summon his wife.

You wanted to ignore the request. With Orwyle’s orders that you should rest, you easily could. Yet you could not deny the sinful part of you that remembered how you felt watching him train only days ago.

With his sword in hand, Aemond was a different man. He was graceful and confident – the Prince you imagined when you first heard of your betrothal. The sight of him had lit the smouldering fire of desire within you, shameful as it was.

Despite your prayers, the memory of his seeming indifference, and his more recent insults, you could not deny you wanted to see that man again.

So, you once again donned your warmest cloak – only after confirming with your maids countless times that it was flattering – and headed to the training yard.

Aemond was not in the ring when you arrived but sulking by a table full of weapons. His arms were crossed tightly in front of him, and though he faced the ring, he was not truly focused on the fight. He looked as distant as he did on your wedding night, just before he asked you to get in the bed.

That is until one of the Kingsguard – the Dornish one – pointed to you on the ramparts, and he looked to you.

You braced for another grimace, but it did not come. Were it not for the slight, almost hopeful raise of his brows, you would think him completely indifferent.

He turned back to the weapons table, quickly selecting a longsword and walking to the ring, barking an order that immediately disbanded the current melee. You watched him jump up and down, stretching and shaking his limbs to prepare for his own fight.

The Kingsguard stepped into the ring with him, wielding a large morningstar. The sight of the fearsome weapon sent a shiver of fear through your veins, but you quickly brushed it aside in favour of a small surge of pride.

You had seen Aemond fight. Surely success would come easily.

Though perhaps not.

At the first strike of the Morningstar, Aemond fell to one knee as his shield shattered. You startled, prompting the old Lord to your side to set a hand on your back and whisper his assurances.

“The Prince is a fine warrior,” he said, “a single strike will not fell him.”

But it was not only the one strike.

Over and over, the Kingsguard’s weapon struck, Aemond only barely avoiding it each time.

Once, after Aemond was forced to concede several steps back, the Kingsguard let his offensive stance fall and whispered something. Your husband only growled back at him, loud enough for you to hear from where you watched. Though even in the ferocity of his new advance, he fumbled through his strikes.

This was not the man you watched in the training yard before. However, there were hints of him, sometimes – a graceful swing of the sword, the agile avoidance of an incoming strike, or a strong blocking with his shield (which was replaced several times).

Though those glimpses were few, they were enough to light that fire once more as each one sent that tingling down your spine.

You even considered going down into the yard when the fight was over and asking him to take you back to your chambers.

The idea when quickly squashed when the fight ended badly.

A powerful blow from the morningstar sent Aemond backwards into the dirt. He only barely hung onto his sword. The Kingsguard dropped his weapon and approached the Prince with his hand outstretched.

Aemond did not accept it. Instead, he swatted the knight aside as he stood, driving his sword point-first into the dirt. Then, after whispering something you could not hear but could tell by the fury in his eyes was harsh and likely cruel, he turned and left the training yard.

Without a single glance your way.

-

Aemond did not attend the family meal that evening. He could not bear to face his wife after such a mortifying display.

Seeing her disappointment would break him, he was sure. Though worse was the possibility that she may laugh at him – mock him, as he had unintentionally mocked her.

Gods, he had not fought so poorly since he was a mere boy and had not yet been allowed to wield real steel. Perhaps the next day, Cole would give him his wooden practice sword back. He would deserve it, for both his abysmal performance and his arrogance.

When Lord Wylde suggested he invite her to ‘witness his martial prowess,’ he had let himself fall victim to Aegon’s flattery and his own vanity. And the gods had seen fit to punish him for it.

He would beg their forgiveness later. After he committed another sin. One he had been indulging in far too often of late.

Though his body – already sore from the fight – protested every movement, Aemond removed all his clothes. All the while, he tried not to think about the wrongness of what he was about to do or how much he had embarrassed himself, but about his wife.

How beautiful she had looked on the ramparts. How her hair floated so gracefully in the wind. How the colour of her cloak brought out a delightful sparkle in her eyes. How she had jumped each time Cole landed a blow.

That she cared whether he lived or died should not make his heart flutter as it did, but he would take whatever she would give him, even if it was the barest of affection.

When he was naked and laid himself across his bed, his cock was suitably hard and leaking. Still, he reached for the small phial of oil Aegon gave him when he suggested he ‘practice building his stamina.’

“It is a sin,” Aemond had hissed, horrified by the mere suggestion.

Aegon only shrugged. “So is killing. But we do so in war without fearing the wrath of the gods. Why? Because it is in pursuit of a noble goal. I would say making your wife c… happy and satisfied is a noble goal, wouldn’t you?”

It was an impressive logic – for Aegon. Still, Aemond went to the Sept each morning to ask the gods for forgiveness.

And each night, like now, he practised.

After depositing a droplet of oil into his palm, he took hold of his cock and began to slowly stroke himself.

It was nothing like being in his wife. No matter what he did, he could not replicate that wonderful feeling. So he quickly stopped trying.

Instead, he pumped himself hard and fast, trying to get to the edge of his peak as quickly as he could – and then stopped. He curled his hand into a fist at his side as he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting a few agonising moments before resuming at a slower pace.

The only thing that made that waiting bearable was assuring himself what it would lead to – or what he hoped it would lead to.

He pictured his wife as she had been when he was touching her. How she had come so close to giving herself over to pleasure.

He hoped she would not ask him to stop the next time. Instead, she would let him touch her until she came. She would let him taste her, something he had never considered before Aegon told him of it, but which he now craved like a man lost in the desert craved water. She would beg him to fuck her, to once again brush his cock against that spot inside her, over and over until they both came apart.

And he would gladly obey. He would do anything she asked – if she only would.

Aemond brought himself almost to coming over and over until his stones ached from being denied so long. Only then did he allow himself release, spilling across his stomach with his wife’s name on his lips.

-

The dinner felt unbearably strange without Aemond beside you. No excuses for his absence were given; it was apparently not a subject anyone else was curious about.

So, you ate your food, spoke when you were spoken to, and excused yourself the moment you were done eating.

Though he had never much talked to you at meals, his presence was still somehow missed. You missed the touch of his hand as he helped you into your seat, the low timbre of his voice when he answered a question from his mother or grandsire, and the warmth of his gaze whenever you caught him looking at you.

You missed all those little joys, which you only then realised were indeed joys, so much that you would gladly endure his insults and criticism if it only meant he was there. Besides, you liked how he had gawked in the library when you mocked him in return. That could become a fun little game…

As you left the dining hall, thinking about how he had smiled at you the night before, you found yourself turning not for your own chambers, but for his.

Perhaps he was hurt from his fall, and that was why he was not there. Surely, it was only concern for his health that had you turning this way, nothing more.

But then you took another step forward, and you knew.

You desired him.

The shock and shame of it had you immediately retreating to your own rooms.

You quickly had your maids prepare you for bed, dressing in another silk slip of a nightdress before sending them away and curling beneath your blankets.

Soon, your own heavy breathing was the only sound in the room. The godsdamned crickets had gone silent again, wishing for you to hear every shameful thought you had clearly.

You thought of the strength he had shown in holding off the Kingsguard’s attacks. The strength you had seen in the tautness of his muscles as he hovered over you. As he used those hands that so skillfully wielded a sword to bring you pleasure.

Your legs squeezed together of their own accord at the thought, and you became all too aware of a wetness between your thighs – the wetness he had once coaxed out of you with his gentle touch.

Spreading your legs and trying not to think about the sin of what you were doing, you slowly raised the hem of your nightdress and slid your hand over your folds.

Where Aemond’s fingers were warm, yours were cold. You rubbed your hand over your thigh momentarily, remembering him doing the same thing, before touching yourself again.

This part of you was unfamiliar, and you fumbled around more than Aemond had that first night.

You found your entrance first but shied away from slipping a finger inside. Somehow, that felt too wrong, too much of a sin.

But that was not the only place Aemond had touched that brought you pleasure.

Following the same line his thumb had taken, you searched from that little spot that had sent lightning through you.

It took some time, but you found it.

Though, no matter how fast you moved your finger or how hard you pressed, your own touch did not bring you nearly as much pleasure as Aemond’s had. Finally, after many long minutes, your attempts were causing far more frustration than anything else, and you ripped your hand away from your sex.

You nearly cried when you saw your fingers glistening – with bright red blood.

Your moon’s blood was here.

You were not pregnant.

-

The next morning, you immediately sent for raspberry tea to soothe the aching that had already taken hold in your abdomen and did not get out of bed until it had arrived and you had drunk two cups full.

Then, you wished you had not gotten out of bed at all. There was another note from your husband – he wanted to meet you for a walk in the gardens.

At least it meant he was not hurt. But to face him after what you had done, or tried to do…

A good wife did not do what you did. A good wife would have gone to his chambers and made sure he was well, would have let him take comfort in you.

Gods, you should have done so. You wished so badly that you had done so.

You could not change what you did, but you could be a good wife from this point on – you would be.

So, despite your pains, you dressed and headed for the gardens, where his note said he would be waiting for you all morning.

You spent the entire walk through the castle praying. To the Father for forgiveness for your sin. To the Mother for forgiveness for failing your husband and to beg that his seed quickened the next time. To the Crone for the wisdom to be a good wife – again, as the same prayer had obviously not worked the first time. To the Warrior, for the courage you would need to face Aemond. To the Smith, to repair what had been broken between you. And to the Stranger for whatever you had forgotten to include in your prayers to the others.

Truly, you needed the blessing of each of the Seven.

It was only by clutching the Seven-Pointed Star pendant until your fingers hurt that you did not collapse at the sight of Aemond.

He looked ethereally beautiful in the morning light. The soft sunlight streaming through the few leaves that still remained on the trees set his hair aglow, like he was touched by the gods themselves. Indeed, they must have been tempting your devotion to your promise. Why else would they make him appear so tempting?

You swallowed thickly, grateful you had approached him from the left, so he would not see you gawking. Then, once you had regained your composure, thanks in no small part to a new wave of pain in your belly overwhelming any desire, you stepped forward and curtsied.

“Husband,” you greeted with as much sweetness in your voice as you could muster, “thank you for the invitation to join you today.”

Aemond stood from the bench and bowed back to you, even though protocol did not require it. “Thank you for coming,” he said with a shy smile. “I was worried that… you might not.”

“It would be improper for a wife to deny her husband’s wishes,” you replied.

Dutiful. Polite. A good wife.

But Aemond’s smile fell. “I hope you do not feel you had to come here just because I asked,” he murmured, not meeting your gaze. “I hope that you wanted to come.”

You found yourself almost smiling at him, at the sentiment he offered. Then, nodding, you stepped forward and awkwardly held your hand out for a moment before returning it to your side. “I have not yet had the chance to see the gardens. Will you show me?”

He looked as though you had just offered him a kingdom and held out his arm for you to take.

Despite the heat radiating off him, you shivered as you looped your arm through his, and he began to lead you down the flagstone path.

You walked in silence for a while, but it was not as heavy or uncomfortable as before. There was only the faintest hint of tension between you, the rest replaced by a kind of contentment – unfamiliar but pleasant.

Aemond only spoke to name some of the plants you saw. How he knew exactly which ones you could not identify yourself, you did not know. He just… knew.

You stopped in front of the gnarled trunk of a wisteria vine. It was not in bloom, and most of its leaves had fallen, but it was still beautiful in its bareness.

“It is wisteria,” Aemond said after a moment, pointing with a finger to trace its path from its roots to the very ends of the vine some twenty feet away on a trellis. “At the end of spring, it will produce hanging blooms that are a lovely shade of purple.”

You looked up at him, at his one eye and its lovely shade of purple – the colour of wisteria, you realised.

Before you knew it, you were smiling so wide it hurt your cheeks. “I know,” you replied, your voice almost a laugh. “It is one of my favourites.”

Feeling yourself begin to blush furiously, you turned back toward the plant. “There was one even larger than this right outside my window at my father’s keep.”

Aemond did not – could not – respond. You had just smiled at him, and it was more beautiful than he had ever imagined.

-

You walked through the gardens on Aemond’s arm until you had seen every plant, every flower, every leaf. It was the happiest you had been since arriving in King’s Landing, and indeed in many years before.

But it could not last forever. While you were merely a wife, Aemond was a Prince. He had duties far more important than walking with his wife. So, when he mentioned the hour was growing late, you did not ask him to stay.

You merely removed your arm from his, bowed your head, and whispered your farewell. As a good wife does.

Yet Aemond remained in front of you, the look in his eye so intense you had to turn away.

“May I come to your chambers tonight?” he asked, his voice small but firm.

Your chest tightened.

You wanted to say yes – to kiss him and feel his touch once more. But…

“My moon’s blood arrived today,” you told him quickly before the fear in your gut could still your tongue.

Until he made that request, you had been enjoying the time spent with your husband so dearly that you had nearly forgotten the pain in your belly, the undeniable proof of your failure to produce an heir.

Your failure to be a good wife.

As tears sprang to your eyes, you watched his face twist with confusion, then crumple with despair, and finally, freeze into an expression you could not name.

Once more, he felt like a mystery to you – a stranger. Had you really come to know him so well, to care for him enough that even a single unknown expression could cause you this much pain?

You must have, for the pain in your empty womb was nothing compared to that which now took hold of your heart.

He looked to the flagstones below you, his mouth starting and failing to find words. “I…” he began, then stopped.

“Aemond?” you asked, desperate now for him to say anything, even if it was to call you stupid again.

Your mind was so clouded by fear at what he may say next that you did not realise it was the first time you had called him by his name since the wedding ceremony.

His eye met yours again, and he raised his brows. “Thank you for the walk.”

And then he left. Again.

To your credit, you did not cry until you were back in your rooms.

-

You did not go to dinner that night or even eat the meal that was brought to your rooms.

You only prayed and cried and prayed some more. Until you fell asleep on the couch in your sitting room.

After waking in the dark at some point in the night, with a blanket over your shoulders. You knew you should move to the bed, or you would be sore in the morning. But whatever you did, you would be sore for at least a few more days. So, you stayed on the couch.

For a while, you watched the door, hoping that Aemond would walk through and throw himself at your feet as he begged your forgiveness. And despite your better judgment, you would give it to him without hesitation.

But he did not come.

Eventually, you fell asleep again.

When you woke once more, you were indeed sore. But it was quickly forgotten when you saw something unfamiliar on the table before you – a leather-bound journal and a folded note with your name written on it in beautiful script.

Curious but cautious, you only grabbed the note before settling back into your seat to read it:

My dearest wife,

Forgive me for not coming to you myself to apologise, but given the way I acted the last time I did so, I believe you will prefer this.

I am so very sorry that my behaviour towards you has been utterly abhorrent. Please know that my stumbling words and foolish actions come not from a place of malice or even indifference. Rather, they are an attempt by a stupid and incompetent man to try and impress his wife.

There is nothing in the world that I desire so much as to see you happy. Nothing I wish for more than to see your smile and, if the gods bless me, to be the reason for it.

For my love, when you smiled at me yesterday – I have never felt anything so wonderful.

But as the past weeks have shown, I fear I am incapable of presenting myself with dignity when I am in your presence. Your beauty, kindness, and pure goodness overwhelm me the moment I see you, and all my good sense abandons me. No matter my intentions, nor the poetry I compose in my mind prior to coming to you, the very moment I am with you, I become little more than a bumbling idiot, unable to even say ‘hello’ without somehow offending or upsetting you.

So, I will no longer try. I know I have caused you much more discomfort than anything, and it pains me beyond measure. Already, I have begged the Seven for their forgiveness, and now I beg yours.

If you do not wish to give it, I will understand. I will accept whatever you decide and act accordingly. If you wish to not see me again, I will disappear. But I would be doing you a disservice as your husband if I did not at least share with you the depth of my feelings before we are parted – if that is indeed what you desire, though I hope it is not.

I am all too aware that if I tried to do this myself, I would say some ridiculous thing to make you hate me forever. That is, I admit, my greatest fear. So, I have asked the servants to deliver you this note, along with my diary. I know you keep your own, for I have seen it in your chambers. Therefore, you know that what you will read is not merely words, but the truths of my very soul.

Please know that I am not afraid to share it with you. As my wife, you are entitled to know everything about me. But more than that, I want you to. I want you to see all that I am, to know me as well as the gods themselves. I pray that what you will learn will not frighten or upset you but show you the man I so wish to be. The man I would be, if you allow me.

I pray you will like him, perhaps even learn to love him. For he loves you so very, very much.

I have marked the passages I most want you to read, but you have my permission to read everything. I will not hide anything from you, not anymore.

With all my love, more than you know,

Your husband, Prince Aemond Targaryen

As you lowered the note, now stained with several of your tears, you looked at the journal – the diary – on the table. It contained the truth of your husband, the man who had confused and angered you, delighted and amazed you.

It was a truth that, once you knew it, would change you forever.

But you had already been changed, hadn’t you? Irrevocably. The only thing the diary would change was whether it was for the better or for the worse.

So, after one last prayer, you set Aemond’s note back on the table, picked up the diary, and began to read.

-

Taglist (bold means I couldn't tag you) If I forgot you, I'm sorry! I've never had a taglist this big before!

@hb8301 @that-girl-named-alex @bat-revival @dahlias-and-marigolds @dc-marvel-girl96 @nina2697 @padfooteyes @missusnora @bluebirdonafencepost @bellaisasleep @yentroucnagol @sarahkimtae @imjustboredso @howdoichangemynameto @hopebaker @yelenabeleovapocket @let-love-bleeds-red @maximizedrhythms @xideshiz @siriusdumblittlepuppy @skikikikiikhhjuuh @lemonivall @anisa269 @flavorofsalt @queenofshinigamis @elles-mind-palace @dragonfireandpixiedust @glitterandgoldfinds @daydreamerblues @tswiftsthings @kitkat-writes-stuff @miraclealignertlsp369 @cryztalline @im-obsessed-with-marvel @fluffiy @kotonei-molyneux @natie335 @killjoynotes @mariahossain @bellstwd

[a-libra-writes]

Hello! ✌️I wanted to let you know that everyday before going to bed I check to see how my fellow Libra is doing, and that you made me fall in love with Stannis (another one falls victim to his awkward mannerisms and hot sense of justice 😔👊) and Ned (... actually they're pretty similar on these fronts, maybe you made me discover a new favourite type??), but also Tywin (the complexity of this terrible cold man, istg) and Roose ( *chuckles* I'm in danger) You're officially the kind of writer that make me wants to read everything of theirs, even if I'm not in the fandom, so: thank you for your service!

I've never asked any request in my life, but your soulmates au live rent free in my mind and so, if you feel like it, I'd like you to expand on an idea...? I don't have much, but this: soulmate au with Tywin, post Joanna (set in whichever time period you think best, so if just few years after her death, or with Tyrion already grown up) and he discovers that this lady from a minor house (that isn't exactly in good relations with the Lannisters) is his soulmate. And I mean, he knew that Joanna wasn't, but honestly he could never expect to have a similar connection with somebody else but her, so he always ignored that, hoping neither of them would ever meet their "true" half. I expect he would almost resent this, especially if he found in her something that made him admit she is a good match, but would he give up such a thing, anyway? Depending on the soulmate au you choose it might even not be his choice: if everyone see their connection and there is a certain expectation, nevermind if now she's a possible weakness to get to him through the bond they share.

As I've said it's just an idea. Obv ignore if it doesn't tell you anything/there's something you don't like/you don't want to! Thank you for your attention, and once again I must tell you how lovely is your writing, how adorable are your fluffy pets and how dear you are! Coming to this blog feels everytime like coming home ☺️

Sorry if I did any mistakes, English is clearly not my first language and since now that I found my courage it's likely I'll write to you again (if you don't mind ofc), so to distinguish me I can be your Milkyway anon🥛🛤️ (I'm sorry I had to! 😔😌) I actually have no preference: call me as you wish, I'll know which name to take lmao

Have a good day/night!!

first thank you for all the kind words!!! Im always pleased when I drag others into my Stannis hell >:)

So this is a very interesting concept! I did a lot of chewing on it and I have Some Thoughts

So starting from the top, Joanna and Tywin knew they weren't soulmates. They didn't care; they were close from a young age (childhood friends, imo) and they knew their duties and place. Stories and poems of soulmates uniting and having a Happily Ever After were just as common as tragedies where soulmates determined to be together started wars and destroyed entire Houses. The history of Westeros is already bloody and fraught with war. So, like many Highborn lords and ladies, they were expected to ignore it. And anyway, the ability to actually meet your soulmate is difficult in a society where there's no internet, instant messaging, etc.

(Now obviously all this depends on what sort of soulmate AU you're imagining, bc there's so many and they're generally not AUs I'm invested in anyway, but I digress)

Besides, Joanna and Tywin were very in love. For Tywin, cynical as he was, he believed all the talk and absurdity about soulmates obviously wasn't true. Or at least, people placed too much importance on it. For Joanna, she was content. She was in love and happily married and loved her two children. Who was she to go looking for some stranger, whom she didn't even know the identity or age or status of? The two of them were so in sync, they probably didn't even talk about it. They just silently had the same thought - who cares?

Again, depending on what soulmate AU you believe in - like, some say you know when the soulmate dies - the fact nothing happened when Joanna died felt cruel. Tywin still had a mark, or perhaps thoughts, or couldn't see color - again again, theres so many - and somehow... it's like the gods were telling him that she didn't matter. There's no grand change, because she wasn't "The One." He already dismissed the gods before. After Joanna's death and Tyrion's birth, he truly resented them.

Tywin is so used to purposefully ignoring the soulmate business, pushing it aside, that it becomes second nature. Many believed Joanna was his soulmate, though neither of them confirmed or denied that rumor. Perhaps even his children believed it. He never speaks of it, anyway. And if this is an AU where there's a specific mark, naturally he would hide it. It would become like an ugly scar, an imperfection he doesn't look at and ignores.

(More interestingly - if this is a lady who appeared to him when he was much older and she was younger, a soulmate mark/"tell" might appear in the middle of his marriage to Joanna. There was something annoying about his soulmate being some child and later some woman who would be half his age. Joanna actually found it amusing).

Moving on. A situation where he comes into contact with a Lady and she's "the one" - the one all those damned poems and songs are written about - it might actually silence him. Perhaps she doesn't even speak to him. He just knows when she walks into the room. And perhaps, there's that realization that she might have known before him.

(Imagine, depending on your favored soulmate AU, some poor woman finding out Tywin fucking Lannister is destined to her. What's worse; that it's while he's married? Or after Robert's Rebellion? If she's of a minor house, or a Great one? Hiding it from siblings or parents who hate him? What if she's married at the time?! Wild.)

She might actually believe there's a mistake. She's going insane. It must be someone else. Can these things be wrong? A lot will depend on her personal feelings about the soulmate business. Does she pursue him anyway, to see what happens? Does she stay the hell away, thinking it's "too late" for them?

Tywin would go from uncharacteristic shock, to quickly recovering, to full-blown denial. Obviously he was mistaken. Depending on your AU, this may be more difficult to ignore. But by god, he'll try. He's too prideful to even consider approaching her, unless there's a reason. And then he'll speak to her like any other person, determined to not express anything, to act as he always does. Even when they both know the truth.

It would be a long, painfully circular song-and-dance that would only progress under specific circumstances, like an arranged marriage. And even then. He's so damn prideful, not wanting to admit to himself when he begins appreciating or desiring aspects about her. He's so prideful! It's infuriating. And he hates being distracted from work and politics for things like feelings, even if he and Joanna were constantly involved in politics as a team.

It's a Whole-Ass Thing. As yall should expect from this awful man. And lord, if word got out to his family or any of Westeros about it ... madness.

[shivada-jade]

soulmates!

soulmate!au because im weak. you're weak too.

characters: bennett, zhongli, diluc ➡ mentions: barbara, lisa, guizhong, hu tao, kaeya, crepus warning(s): bennett luck (he gets hurt a lot), wrote this at 2:48am so my writing may or may not make sense

bennett: feels the same emotions from the other, but the emotions have to be strong and genuine

he never understood your sudden bursts of sadness. it would come at the most inconvenient at times.

for as long as he could remember, the emotions that weren't his are mostly sad. he asked his dads about it and gently told him his soulmate system is feeling emotions from the other.

after crying from an unknown pain, he made it his soul purpose to constantly be happy all the time, no matter how unlucky he could be so you can be happy too.

his dads worry when he falls down and scrapes his knee, but he would always reply with, "i'm not hurt! my soulmate is hurt!"

he would then clutch the fabric on his chest tightly, like he's been stabbed with a sword and say, "my soulmate hurts right here."

he heaves a breath, "it doesn't compare to whatever luck i get."

"this pain is bearable," he convinces himself when he comes out a hilichurl camp in cuts and bruises.

"your soulmate needs you to be happy for them," he chastises himself for shedding a tear when another adventurer wronged him.

he visits barbara to heal his wounds and asks how she always looks so... happy, so smiley.

"all it takes is one smile to make yourself happy. it can be a slow process but it works!" she singsongs, "miss lisa showed me a study about it."

ever since barbara explained, he smiles the brightest of smiles in mondstadt. he refuses to let other adventurers let him down, worried he might hurt you more than it is.

soon, he finds out that he feels no sadness coming from you. he feels no weight on his shoulders. he feels happy after Good hunter ran out of food for him.

these are not my emotions, he thinks, a wide grin creeping it's way to his face.

he lets out the loudest laugh, giggles, and various joyous noises. he's never felt so happy in his life. for once, he feels lucky, because for once, you're finally happy in the other end of his invisible red string of fate.

his luck skyrockets when he sees a person around his age, with a gorgeous smile adorning their features. he knows its you, sitting by the fountain making wishes. he knows it's you when he sees your eyes that hold so much emotion.

it was as if his heart was tugging him to where you sat.

he's never felt so lucky to have you as his soulmate.

"thank you giving the best smiles"

zhongli: every time he passes his soulmate, he hears the sounds of bells ringing

now, zhongli never thought he would have a soulmate because of his past title of 'archon.' soulmate systems are a tricky thing. he knows there are so many ways to know your soulmate system.

the common system was their first words tattooed on themselves. many others had the ability to know when they meet them, in other words, a count down.

but zhongli never had those two, nor did he have faith in the soulmate system until the lantern rite festival.

walking by the busy streets, he muses to himself how pretty liyue is under the blanket of the moon and stars. he hears the merchants call to customers, attracting and waving at them to buy their products. he hears the clink of the mora in their bag is loud; the laughter from the children young and old marry a soft smile to his face.

he freezes, hearing something that should not belong in the lantern rite. the sound of bells ringing. it isn't any cow bell, or school bell. it's the sound of echoing, melodious wedding bells ringing his ear.

he vaguely remembers his friend guizhong mentioning about this rare particular soulmate system when she still roamed teyvat.

a soulmate!

zhongli stands straighter, eyes grazing on the sea of people, trying to see if anyone stopped to hear the bells he heard. he mutters a few apologies when people bump into him with lanterns in their hands, but that doesn't matter to him.

fate brought someone for him to love. it's just that... he doesn't know where.

he walks forward, he walks backwards to where he came from. he walks to the docks then to the top of liyue harbour, but he can't hear the sound of the bells again.

he doesn't panic. he doesn't rush, because he knows fate will bring you back together. he just doesn't know how long until he'll hear the bells again.

it came to him a surprise when he hears the bells everyday after that.

everyday when he sits at third-round knockout he hears the sound of bells behind him, but when he turns, he knows you've left already.

he sighs, blowing on his tea before taking light sips. it seems he won't be meeting you today.

one day, the ringing just stops. there's no sign of you, or your presence. zhongli assumes you're just taking a sick day, or you've decided to rest, but after a week of not hearing the bells, he worries.

archons, how he wanted to look for you, but he doesn't even know who you are. hu tao encourages zhongli to take the day off and look for you, so he did.

walking aimlessly in liyue, doubt crosses his mind. what if you were here for a business trip and left? it wasnt until he passes by a stunning figure he hears the bells again. he stiffens and turns to you when you stopped next to him.

"thank goodness," he says, slightly covering his smile with a gloved hand.

your eyes sparkle as you look at him, "thank goodness indeed."

diluc: lost possesions will come to your soulmate

for as long diluc knows, strange things always end up in his possessions: hairclips, pens, coins, and archons forbid- his soulmate's overdue bills.

his father laughs when younger diluc comes home dragging a wagon and the biggest teddy bear in history, because how on teyvat does someone lose a teddy bear taller than a door. crepus watches his son struggling to drag the big toy home and sees his other son pushing the wagon from behind, also struggling.

"what do you have there?"

all the response he gets are grunts. the side of his eyes crinkle with mirth, seeing his two sons having trouble bringing it home.

"father!" diluc calls out with a grin missing two of his front teeth, "i don't know where it came from. it's like it appeared from the sky."

"it actually did fall out of the sky!" kaeya says, "we were at the vineyard and i saw diluc get crushed!"

"i did not get crushed."

"did too," kaeya retaliates, sticking his tongue out.

that was the first time diluc heard of this certain soulmate system. lost things from his soulmate go to his possession; lost things from diluc go to his soulmate's possession.

crepus glances at his boys and gets an idea. he calls for them to follow him, and they do, obediently. he leads them to his room, pulling out a treasure chest full of frilly clothes, dresses, outfits that range from a farmer's outfit to a noblewoman.

"this chest is where your mother kept her favourite things," crepus pulls out a necklace from the bottom of the case. "this necklace was particularly her favourite."

diluc can see why. he's mesmerized by the ruby sparkle it hangs. the gold chain complimenting the red jewel and making it complete.

crepus clutches the necklace, looking at it longingly before placing it back in the chest. he places out all the old clothes from the container and lays it on his bed.

"you can keep your soulmate's things here like i once did. your pops is getting too old anyway, i-"

kaeya interrupts crepus jumps on the clothes that are on the bed, creating a havoc in the room. he jumps on the bed with so much energy even after diluc tells him about the story of the 5 little monkeys jumping on the bed.

though, crepus is having none of that. he picks up diluc by his small arms and flings him to kaeya, looking like a bowling ball knocking down a pin. the two boys gasp for air, shooting dirty looks at their father before they chase him out of the house.

the corner of diluc's mouth twitch up ever so slightly, remembering when he first knew of his soulmate. it would take a very observant person to notice his smile. he polishes the glass behind angel's share's counter. under the filtered sunlight, the glass glints. satisfied with the cleanliness.

the chest his father game him was fill of trinkets his soulmate had lost over the years, and good grief. his soulmate must be the most disorganized person ever. he remembers walking to dawn winery and a sack of mora drop on his feet. it wasn't a pleasant feeling, but the thing that has diluc worried is how his soulmate tends to lose the biggest things like a 7-foot-tall teddy bear.

diluc is about to place the wine glass on a cupboard until SMACK.

a thick paper hits his face from seemingly nowhere and so he knows that is his soulmate losing the tenth thing for the day. he has a room dedicated for the things his soulmate has lost, and he thinks he might need a second room.

he pulls the paper off his face and his eyes widen in shock. this two-inch thick paper are legal documents. loan agreements. overdue loan agreements.

[Name] [Last Name]

he notes the name in his head. [Name] owes the fatui 35 thousand mora as interest. what kind of reckless person- then it hits his mind. that sack of mora that fell from the sky was that 35 thousand to pay off the loans.

he knows where to go. he leaves the wineglass on the counter for charles to pick up and hastily grabs his coat and leaves the door.

"liyue, liyue, liyue, and the fatui." he chants in his head. loans. he greets his maid before ascending to his room. he snatches the mora that dropped on his feet and sprints out the door to retrieve his stallion.

a few hours at most to make it to where his fated partner was at, and so he sets off.

arriving at liyue is strange, seeing diluc's attire did not match the city, and seeing his hands are holding the reins of his horse tightly. a strange traveler from a foreign land... with a majestic stallion. he looks like a prince straight out of a fairytale.

he lightly pats his horse, urging to go a bit faster from the trotting they were doing until he meets the gaze of a distressed person in front of the fatui.

"i swear! i had the money and the papers just today!"

diluc scoffs, knowing who they were now, and they did not have the money today. they lost it a week ago.

"listen," the masked fatui grumbles. "im just here to do my job. if i don't have the money in my hands right now i'll-"

diluc jumps off the saddle and unloads the sack of mora from the side, dropping it on the fatui's hand with a seething glare, yet still polite.

"i believe they owe you 35 thousand? sounds about right, no?" he says, letting his diplomatic side show a bit. "for the sake of it, why not amuse me and take this, david. hmm?"

the fatui goes rigid, hearing his name. he slowly lifts his eyes up, "master diluc." he curtly nods and skittishly walks away. one time david spilled drinks at a mondstadt political gathering. he spilled it on diluc.

the ragnvindr waits for the fatui to walk away before turning to his, supposedly love of his life.

"you're the one who lost a 7-foot-tall teddy bear when i was six," he points out, waiting for your response.

his soulmate sheepishly smiles, "well- i would have a good defense but hey, did you at least enjoy having a 7-feet-tall teddy bear fall on you?"

"i did, along with a glass mug falling on me as well."

"i just cant believe how you never lose your stuff!" they retort, "the only thing i got was a missing tooth from you."

the tip of diluc's ears turn the same colour as his hair, but still wears a stoic expression. "i'm diluc ragnvindr," he greets, slightly bowing his head.

"and i'm yours"

part 2: with ganyu, kaeya and thoma

[ppddpjdr]

GAGGED. THIS IS SO GOOD I READ THE FIRST 3 PARAGRAPHS AND WAS FL O O R E D I CANNOT WAIT FOR THIS (i bet the projection of sociopolitical issues onto intercommunal relationships between consenting adults as means of further separating communities is going to be SO GOOD in this one)

OMG CHANNIE DID N O T just say that except of course he did we all :'( live in (are victims of) a Society :((( the way new generations will just give up. on even considering relationships beyond what we know because the rest of the world makes it so hard :((((

im actually crying rj and yn talking about werewolf human interspecies relationships history like me and my friends exploring queer history of our country that we just never got the opportunity to learn and be exposed to until and unless we found a group of people that shared that same sense of longing and uncertainty about their place in society :((( the slow dawn of understanding that your love truly exists now and has existed in many forms for centuries and can never, never cease to exist no matter who tries to take it away from you (and now I am thinking about romance is dead hELP)

I'm going actually sit here and cry. the talk that yn gives jn. that small moment at the start where neither of them have anything to say to channie, before the fortune cookie bit. the kind of pressure that gets put onto intercommunal relationships to be this beacon of true love and hope in the world, and the permission to be flawed or complex, or make mistakes that gets taken away from the people in that relationship

RENJUN IS SO ME FR making powerpoint presentations and actively seeking out and compiling historical evidence because such a grand proportion of my friend group just. Never had the opportunity to pursue that knowledge and the way he misses out on romantic angle entirely because he is excited by the socio-cultural mixing is very real to me and this is probably my favourite scene in the series so far

THE WAY!!! YOU WRITE JENO('s story)!!!! Continual bodily neglect as a means of a affirming and feeling secure in one's community membership when they community has been historically suppressed/marginalised/maintained in secrecy!!! Continual resistance to the loss of cultural knowledge and inheritance resulting in physical weakness feeling like a betrayal!! Reminds me of transness and binding and female reproductive health specifically

Crying this is one of my favourites genuinely

❧ word count: 8.8k ❧ warnings: cursing, uh reader gets called like a fantasy slur?, this one really focuses on the concept of ‘othering’ in this society and how it manifests in and around jeno and reader’s werewolf/human relationship ❧ genre: fluff, angst but like from outside sources (see warnings), modern magical creatures au, fantasy au, college au if you squint again, werewolf jeno, human reader, ft. werewolf sungchan, human renjun, and dryad jaemin, same universe as strawberry sunday, sequel to pupsick ❧ extra info: this is a sequel to pupsick! it theoretically could be read as a standalone with minimal confusion but i highly recommend you read pupsick first to see how these two crazy kids got together this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe (aside from pupsick to this one), they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

“Welcome!” Renjun smacked the tip of his lecture pointer against his TV screen. You jumped a little at the sound. “To your exclusive History of Werewolf-Human Romance crash course taught by yours truly!”

“Waah!” You yelped as you were quite literally swept off your feet by a pair of strong arms around your waist, and grabbed onto Jeno’s hands. A surprised giggle bubbled out of you. “Pup! You scared the hell out of me.”

“You were too slow.” Jeno clicked his tongue in feigned disappointment, nosing along from behind your ear down your neck. “I win.”

“As usual,” you sighed, reaching up to scratch your fingers along his scalp. The warmth of him holding you was a welcome one against the wintery chill of December that was fully set in around you. “If you didn’t need enrichment, I might lodge a formal complaint about the equity of these games, you know.”

“A formal complaint? With what authority?”

“Jaemin.”

Before your boyfriend could respond, an angry shout came from across the park, drawing your attention. You felt Jeno’s arms tense around you immediately. You spotted your friend that had come with you two, Sungchan, over by the water fountains, in a less than friendly confrontation with another man. From your viewpoint, the stranger was way out of his depth. Sungchan was a head and a half taller than him, not to mention a werewolf.

“The fuck did you just say?” Sungchan pushed the guy, who looked about your age, back by the chest. The other guy didn’t say anything, but didn’t move to back down either. Jeno let you go, but only to put himself between you and the other two, despite the distance that was already there.

“I said, say it again, to my fucking face this time, asshole,” your friend practically snarled at him and stepped forward, his fists clenched and teeth bared.

Jeno looked conflicted about leaving you or helping your friend. But before he had to make a choice, the shorter man turned on his heel and stormed off. Sungchan watched until he was completely off the premises before he rejoined you and Jeno. Your friend’s fists were still clenched in anger, and you noticed a prominent vein on his forehead that wasn’t always there.

“What did that guy say, Sungchan?” You asked him softly. You’d never seen your typically good-natured friend get worked up like that. He was always a rather calming presence, especially in contrast to the other excitable wolf with you.

“It wasn’t just some guy, it was another werewolf,” Jeno informed you, though his focus was also on the taller man.

Sungchan stretched his neck out, letting out a sharp sigh. “Yeah, he was a werewolf. He… he called you a knotslut, Y/N.”

You felt your jaw drop as Jeno immediately spat out, “He fucking what?”

“I can assume that’s not a compliment…” You said quietly, though you’d never heard the word yourself before.

“No, it’s not.” Sungchan crossed his arms, and his features softened as he looked down at you. “It’s an obviously derogatory term for a non-werewolf—usually human, and almost always a woman—who only dates werewolves specifically because of the more wolf-ish aspects of us.”

“Or just any human woman who’s with a werewolf.” Jeno pulled you closer to him with an arm around your waist. “I am so, so sorry Y/N—”

“Jeno, shh, shh. It’s not like you’re the one who called me that.” You waved off his apology. “I just… forget sometimes, that this is still kind of all new. Humans and magical creatures all living together.”

“That doesn’t make it okay for him to have called you that, Y/N,” Sungchan said sternly.

“I didn’t say that it did,” you replied just as firmly. “It was just an unpleasant little reality check, that’s all. Thank you for standing up for me, by the way, Channie.”

“Seriously, dude, thank you,” Jeno echoed your sentiments.

Your friend finally gave a small smile. “Of course. There was no way I was going to sit back and let anybody talk about my friends like that.”

You didn’t like the pensive look that was still on his face, though. “Is there something else bothering you?”

“No, I was just thinking…” He gave you two a sheepish look. “Now don’t get me wrong, I think you two are very cute together, and I truly couldn’t imagine a better match for either of you than the other. But that whole thing that just happened… just really solidified that I think for myself, personally, I’d just rather stick with dating other werewolves. No need to worry about weird werewolf fetishists, and my hypothetical future partner wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with stuff like that. Just a lot simpler, you know?”

You exchanged a look with Jeno. Oh, you two would have a lot more discuss about your thoughts on that later. But for now, to give your friend your lukewarm support.

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve got a couple good points,” you offered politely. “Obviously, I want you stay away from weirdos.”

“But…” Jeno hopped in where you had implicitly left off. “Don’t accidentally swear off happiness in your search for something simple.”

“You sound like a fortune cookie, Jeno,” Sungchan snorted. “I take it back, being in love is rotting your brain.”

“He’d need a brain to rot in the first place.” You gently knocked on your boyfriend’s forehead for emphasis, giggling as he scrunched his eyes and nose.

When Jeno hadn’t made any kind of comeback or retort, the taller werewolf asked incredulously, “Seriously? You don’t have anything to say to that, man?”

“She’s right,” Jeno shrugged and knocked on his own head this time. “I’m just a big dumb pup, remember?”

“You two are insufferable,” Sungchan groaned, looking up at the sky in facetious misery. “Why did I agree to hang out with you guys without a fourth wheel?”

You laughed. “Because you and Jeno wanted to play soccer. And you two have officially worn me out, so why don’t you play while I take a nice long sit on the bench?”

“Fine.”

As you watched Jeno and Sungchan kick a soccer ball back and forth, you hugged your knees to your chest on a bench overlooking the soccer field, glad that it hadn’t snowed lately so your butt was staying dry. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you took it out to see who was calling.

“Hey, Renjun,” you answered brightly.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you guys still at the park?” Your friend asked, and you could distantly hear the sound of his footsteps echoing behind him. You’d sent a blanket invite out to several of your friends for this afternoon, but Sungchan had been the only one that was able to make it initially.

“Yeah. The guys are playing soccer. I’m taking a break.”

“Do you think you’ll be there much longer? I finished up my essay early so I figured I could join you.”

Oh, he must be in the parking garage on campus.

“Of course! Channie was just complaining about third-wheeling alone anyway.”

“What were you and Jeno doing?”

“Long story, I’ll tell you when you get here.”

“Oh great,” he said sarcastically. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“See you, Renjun!”

“Bye.”

“So Renjun’s coming?” Jeno called out, holding a hand up to cast a shadow over his eyes.

You nodded, knowing that Jeno had only been able to parse out your half of the conversation from the distance he was at. “Yeah, he said he’ll be about ten minutes.”

Your boyfriend gave you a thumbs up before turning back around just in time to avoid a ball that Sungchan had kicked right at his head. “Dude!”

“Like I said! Being in love’s rotting your brain, Lee Jeno!” Sungchan yelled back, throwing his hands up in a grand ‘I-don’t-know’ gesture. “And your reflexes!”

“And I’m telling you, I don’t got a brain to rot, Jung Sungchan!” Jeno jogged after the soccer ball, lining up to kick it in an impressive arc back to the other werewolf.

Renjun showed up fifteen minutes later and plopped down on the bench beside you with a zealous huff. You didn’t even need to ask what happened.

“God, half the morons at our college don’t know how to drive!” He stretched his arms over the back of the bench, rolling his neck out. “And the other half are just jumping into traffic willy-nilly like they’re trying to get ran over or something!”

“Deep breath, Renjun, deep breath.” You patted him on the shoulder.

“As soon as I graduate, I’ll take the biggest, deepest beath of my life, I promise.”

“And until then?”

“Until then, I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel with one hand and laying on the horn with the other.”

You laughed heartily. “That’s one way to go about it I guess.”

“But how are you doing, Y/N?”

“Oh, fine. Something kind of… weird, I guess, happened earlier, though.”

“Weird?”

You squinted your eyes at the two werewolves now at the opposite end of the soccer field as before, trying to guesstimate if that was enough distance for your conversation to not be picked up by their superhuman hearing. To be safe, you leaned in towards your human friend and lowered your voice.

“There was this other werewolf here, and he said something about me and Jeno.” You admitted.

Renjun tilted his head curiously. “Said what?”

“Well, more specifically, he called me a-a knotslut?” The word felt unfamiliar in your mouth, and left a bitter taste on your tongue. Your lip curled unpleasantly at the memory it brought up.

His eyes widened as he looked around in alarm, then dropped his own voice to a whisper, “So where’s the body? Because there’s no way Jeno would’ve let someone that called you that leave alive.”

“Jeno wasn’t the one who heard him say it,” you clarified. “Sungchan did. Jeno and I were busy goofing off. Channie had gone to refill his water by the bathrooms and apparently the guy said it over there by him.”

“He probably thought that Sungchan was going to agree with him.”

“Must’ve been a shock for him when Sungchan almost bashed his face in himself.”

Renjun burst out in a full-bodied laugh. “Oh, I’m sure it was.”

“But, I want to ask you something, Renjun. Since you’re here.” You turned on the bench to fully face your human friend.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“You’re a Magical Creatures Studies major. Me and Jeno… it’s not that weird, right? Like, new, I mean? There’s got to be more of a history to humans and magical beings being together than six months ago.”

“Oh there absolutely is!” Renjun’s eyes sparkled as he straightened up in his seat. “I’m actually finishing up a class on Interspecies Marriage right now! Did you know that the earliest written record we have of a traditional werewolf mating ritual between a human and werewolf is nearly two thousand years old?”

“Wait, really?” You weren’t expecting that much precedent. Maybe a couple hundred years, not a couple thousand.

“Yeah! And as for how we would conventionally think of marriage today between a human and werewolf, that still goes back at least 800 years for official written historical records. And that’s just written. There’s oral traditions of entire packs that were equal parts human and werewolf that are much, much older with archaeological evidence to back it up.”

“Archaeological? Like, bones?”

“Well, yeah. But also artifacts of their villages. Things that—”

A movement in the periphery of your eye made you whip your head up to look back at the field. Jeno and Sungchan were leisurely walking over towards you two, the former carrying the soccer ball. You smacked Renjun’s knee to shut him up as quickly as possible. Offended, he seemed to nevertheless get the idea, thankfully, and stopped his never-ending stream of facts.

You smiled up at the two werewolves as they stopped beside you two. “Done already?”

“Just coming to say hey to Renjun,” Jeno informed you as Sungchan grabbed a bag that was next to the bench.

“Hey, guys,” Renjun greeted them.

Sungchan fetched a couple water bottles that were inside, tossing one to Jeno, who caught it one-handed. He then set the soccer ball down by his feet to twist the bottle open.

“And hydrate,” the taller wolf added.

The human rolled his eyes. “Oh. I feel so special now.”

“You guys want to join?” Jeno offered, using his shirt to dab at a bead of sweat on his forehead with the hem. You shamelessly watched his movements. “We can do teams now that we’ve got even numbers.”

“Yeah, werewolves versus humans,” Sungchan suggested with a grin.

“Only if you guys hop on one leg with your hands tied behind your back,” you retorted.

“How are we supposed to kick the ball like that?”

“You can figure it out with your big, non-rotted, pristine brain, Channie. I believe in you.”

“Well not if I’ve got Mr. Fortune Cookie over here making heart eyes at you the whole time.” Sungchan jabbed a thumb in Jeno’s direction, and when you looked over at him, he was already looking at you.

“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted me on your team?” Jeno rounded on him indignantly.

Sungchan shrugged as he finished the rest of his water. “Like you’ll really try if it’s against Y/N.”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes, but didn’t do anything to dispute the claim. “Fine, then you’re taking Renjun?”

“No. I’m taking Y/N, obviously.”

As you and Sungchan walked out to your own side of the field, you studied him suspiciously.

“Why did you want me on your team?” You asked him, soccer ball in your hands this time. “If you think Jeno and I are too lovey-dovey to compete against each other?”

“Well I took your advice, and I thought about it with my huge, smart, peak condition brain—”

You couldn’t help but laugh in his face at his phrasing, to which he snickered as well.

“—and I figured that even if you don’t give it 110%, you’re still better than Renjun. So not only is Jeno not going to be doing good himself because he’s competing against you, but his teammate kind of sucks too.”

“Ohh, I got you,” you nodded along, which slowly turned into a disbelieving head shake. “I think we need to set you up with someone. You’re too smart for everyone else’s good, your brain’s in need of a little rotting.”

Sungchan turned to you then, squaring his shoulders. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“Hmm, since you’re not a fairy, I’ll hear you out. The terms?”

“If we win and I’m convinced that you actually gave your best against Jeno… then you can set me up on one date.”

“You’re agreeing to a blind date?”

“One.”

“With anybody of my choosing? You won’t back out no matter what they are?”

“I can’t back out of it.”

“And you have to put in an earnest effort, too. You can’t intentionally sabotage it.”

“I can’t back out of it, and I can’t intentionally sabotage it.”

You stuck a hand out to him. “Deal.”

Sungchan took your chilly hand, shaking it with his perpetually warm one. “Deal.”

God you were exhausted. Your legs burned, your eyes were watering from the cold wind, and you sucked in breath after breath of air that nipped at your lungs and seemed to hurt as much as it helped. But finally, someone declared the game over, and that you and Sungchan had won.

You let out an unintelligible, guttural grunt of victory, plopping yourself down onto the grass exactly where you were standing and pumping your fists up into the air from the ground instead. Sungchan jogged up to you, bright grin on his features as he held a hand down to you for a high-five.

“That was awesome, Y/N!” Your teammate celebrated as you weakly slapped your hand down against his. “I told you you were better than Renjun!”

“What? Why was disparaging me even part of your pep talks?” Renjun yelled from afar, tossing his hands up in the air in equal parts bewilderment and offense.

“Y/N!” Jeno ran up to you, skidding to his knees on the ground beside you to throw his arms around you. “Good job! Seriously, you did so good out there! Your passing got better and—”

“See? He’s happier that you won than if he had won.” Sungchan gestured to your boyfriend pointedly.

Through a tired smile, you pecked Jeno on the cheek. “Thanks, pup. You did great, too.”

Then, you turned your focus to the other werewolf still standing above the two of you, the smile dropping from your face. You pointed at him knowingly. “Consider my end of the deal fulfilled now, Jung.”

Sungchan crossed his arms over his chest, not seeming very happy about this, but he didn’t argue. “Fine. Later, okay?”

“Fine…” You gracefully dropped the subject at the moment. After all, you needed time to carefully consider. So for now, you wrapped your arms around Jeno and laughed as he kissed your cheek back two times.

“Hey, what were you and Sungchan talking about, by the way?” Jeno asked as he came into the living room with his after-dinner snack. You were staying at his place tonight to continue binging a show that you, Jeno, and Jaemin had started together.

“When?” You lifted up one side of the fluffy blanket that was on your lap for him to sit down under. Once he had, you immediately scooted closer to rest your head against his shoulder. When he was done eating, he would be the one snuggling up to you like usual, but for now, he did unfortunately have to attend to his inhuman metabolism.

“After we all played soccer. Some deal?”

“Oh, oh, oh!” You sat up straight, excited now. Looking at both Jeno, and Jaemin, who was stretched out on his own couch on the other side of the living room, you announced excitedly, “Sungchan’s letting me set him up on a date.”

“What?” “Seriously?” They blurted out at the same time.

“Yup. The deal was that if I gave 110% in the soccer game against Jeno, and Sungchan and I won, then he’d let me set him up on exactly one date.” You confirmed with a devilish hand rub.

Jeno scrunched his nose up. “How many werewolves do you know, Y/N? I guess I might know some from my pack back home that are nice…”

“That’s the best part. He can’t back out of it or self-sabotage no matter who it is, or what they are. So it doesn’t have to be a werewolf.”

Your boyfriend caught your eye, and you knew that the two of you were thinking the exact same thing. “Oh…”

“Yeah…”

“Hey!” Jaemin snapped his fingers to get your attention. Once you both were looking over at him, despite the fond smile on his face, he made a show of rolling his eyes as he grumbled, “I hate when you two do that. Mind filling me in?”

“Channie’s apparently got this thing about only wanting to date werewolves because it’s easier,” you explained. “You know, no worrying about weirdos who date werewolves because they’re werewolves.”

“And he claims that it’s just not worth any possible… harassment,” Jeno added. He’d apparently polished off his snack while you and Jaemin were speaking, because with two free hands, he pulled you closer to him again, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And after today, I kind of understand why.”

“Jeno, don’t talk like that,” you replied firmly, feeling a lump grow in your throat.

“I don’t agree with him, but I understand him. You don’t want the person you’re in love with to go through something like that. I want to be able to do something to make sure you never have to have someone treat you like that ever again, Y/N. But not if it’s not being with you. That… that doesn’t feel right to me.”

You laced your fingers with the hand of the arm he had around your shoulders, wrapping him even tighter around you. “Of course it doesn’t. Because it’s not right. And you’re not going to do something so stupid, Lee Jeno.”

“I know,” he squeezed your hand.

After a beat of quiet, Jaemin spoke up softly, “Will you… tell me what happened?”

“There was another werewolf at the park today. He called Y/N something awful.”

“What…?”

Figuring it might not be a good idea to say it again around Jeno, especially since your boyfriend apparently couldn’t bring himself to say it either, you jumped in, “Remember how we were just talking about people who only date werewolves because they’re werewolves?”

Jaemin’s face changed from confusion to recognition, then sympathy. “Oh, that’s horrible. I’m sorry, Y/N. That must have been terrible.”

“I’m okay, Jaemin. Thanks.” You smiled encouragingly to your friend. “Now, are we watching the show or…?”

“Yeah, yeah!” The dryad reached for the remote to select your show.

Later, once everyone had retired to bed for the night, you were staring up at the ceiling of Jeno’s bedroom, a discontented frown on your face. Your boyfriend exited the bathroom, flicking the light off behind him and flopping face-first onto his side of the bed. With no hesitation, he rolled over until he could rest his head on your middle. Except you didn’t move your fingers that had been laced together over your stomach as you stewed in your moody thoughts.

A comically confused sound came from Jeno at the unexpected barrier between him and his favorite pillow. And when you still didn’t move them, he lifted his head up to be able to look at you. “Y/N? Baby?”

“Hm?” You finally looked down at him, and registered the weight on your abdomen. You unlaced your hands and lifted them to make room. “Oh, sorry, Jeno. I was thinking.”

“About?” He prompted you as he settled in for his nearly nightly head scratches and rubs (they were only missed on the nights that you didn’t spend together). Your fingers began their habitual carding through his hair one way, then scratching gently along his scalp back the other way.

“When you said you understand Sungchan—”

“Y/N, I said—”

“Please let me finish.”

“You’re right, sorry. Go ahead.”

You sighed, keeping one hand in his hair and trailing the other down to caress his forehead, cheekbone, jaw, then tilted his chin up so he was looking at you.

“You’re both looking at it wrong,” you affirmed, holding his gaze steadily. “You don’t control other people’s actions solely by existing. That guy didn’t call me that today because I’m a human or because you’re a werewolf or because he heard me call you ‘pup’ or any litany of things about you and me. He said it because there’s something wrong with him. He said it because for some reason he just couldn’t imagine any scenario where you and I were simply just happy. And I for the life of me cannot bring myself to give a shit about pleasing people like him. So yes, while I do wish that you would encounter as little strife and hurt and injustice in your life as possible, Jeno, because I love you, I don’t believe for a second that any of it is caused by me loving you. I think that when things like this do happen, it’s caused by other people’s hate.”

Jeno’s throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed, and he slowly nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. His hand came up to cup yours that was cradling his face, his thumb gently rubbing over the backs of your knuckles. You leaned down to press your forehead to his, brushing your noses together.

“Welcome!” Renjun smacked the tip of his lecture pointer against his TV screen. You jumped a little at the sound. “To your exclusive History of Werewolf-Human Romance crash course taught by yours truly!”

Now that the fall semester and finals week were over, you were over at Renjun’s place. You had asked him if you could finish your conversation that you were having at the park about werewolves and humans. And truly, you don’t know why you had thought that you two would just grab coffee or something. You shouldn’t have expected anything less than a full-blown PowerPoint presentation from your friend who practically lived, breathed, ate, and slept Magical Creatures Studies.

“Did you just have that laying around?” You asked, referring to the pointer in his hand.

“Yes of course.”

“Of course,” you echoed humorously as you reclined into your seat on his couch. “Anyway, go for it, Renjun. I’m all ears.”

“Okay, so—” He pressed the spacebar on his laptop that was projecting to the TV. The first slide popped up. “Archaeological data. This is where we left off in our conversation. Entire packs have been found that were half human and half werewolf—”

You raised your hand. “Excuse me? Professor Huang?”

“Yes?” He called on you, having fully slipped into his role as lecturer.

“When you say the packs were half human, half werewolf, what do you mean? Like the population statistics were 50% humans and 50% werewolves? Or the individuals themselves were half-and-half genetically?”

“The former. These packs were integrated evenly with humans and werewolves.”

“And you’re saying ‘packs’ specifically. Not villages, or societies, or groups. Why?”

“From what we’ve been able to gather bout how they lived from the artifacts left behind, it seems their social structure more closely mirrored the customs and habits of werewolves than the humans that lived in that same area at the time.”

“So the humans that were in the pack adopted werewolf culture?”

“You’re getting ahead of me,” Renjun beamed at you. “You’re a very perceptive student.”

“Oh. Go ahead, Professor Huang.” You gave him a humble seated bow to proceed with the slide he was on.

“So, the archaeological data itself that was found was, like you said, bones, obviously, but also pots, stone tools, trinkets, even children’s toys or bits of clothing have been found.” He clicked to the next slide. There were pictures of some of the objects he’d mentioned, and a couple more. “This is where it gets interesting. Even if we hadn’t found any human skeletons, we would’ve known that humans had lived there because there were human tools found. Tools that werewolves didn’t need. Like knives to cut their food into bite-sized pieces, and jars that have residue from medicine that we know was used to treat diseases communicable among humans but not werewolves.”

“Wow.”

Next slide. This one had a picture of some objects on one side, pieces of worn leather, smooth colorful stones, and on the other side, a drawing of two necklaces, with matching opalescent stones wrapped securely in them.

“On the left—” he smacked said side with the pointer. “—are the pieces of two leather necklaces that were found with a pair of skeletons that were buried together. The right—” smack “—is an artist’s rendition of what the necklaces most likely looked like originally.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“Werewolves will traditionally bury mates together.”

“Like human couples who buy a plot of land in a cemetery big enough for the both of them before they pass.” You nodded.

“Exactly. This specific pack wasn’t 50/50 werewolves and humans we think. From what we’ve been able to parse out, it was more 80/20, with more werewolves. But they still buried werewolf-human couples together with all the same rites as werewolf couples. This pair right here was a werewolf-human couple.”

You smiled up at the image on-screen, feeling the familiarity of them reach across time to you in that moment. “And the necklaces?”

“It was sort of like a wedding ring-slash-mating claim fusion.” Renjun tapped the two necklaces with zeal again. You were starting to get a little afraid that he was going to damage his TV. “You were asking if the humans in these packs adopted werewolf culture, right? For the most part, yes, they did. They took on all of the werewolves’ culture as their own as far as we can tell. And what they couldn’t do, like eating raw meat, they adapted so they could. Obviously, day to day meals, they’d cook with heat. But many culturally important events held significance in the rawness of the food, so the humans would cure meat in salt ahead of time so they could safely consume it for those instances.”

“What sort of events?”

“The celebration of the solstices, uh mating rituals, burials, any number of things most likely involved the consumption of specifically raw meat as part of the tradition. It was an important staple of the werewolf diet, hence why Jeno has to slam down those protein bars now.”

You chuckled a little bit, able to perfectly picture your boyfriend’s shelf in his pantry that was taken up by boxes upon boxes of protein bars specifically formulated for werewolves. “Ah, yes, the ancestral chocolate peanut butter flavored protein bars.”

“And now you know the important cultural significance of them.” Your friend sighed wistfully, then switched back into his lecture-mode. “Back to the necklaces. So while the humans largely assimilated into werewolf culture, they also introduced a few things of their own. Typically, when two werewolves mate for life, it’s a whole biting and scenting thing and bam— every wolf in a hundred-mile radius gets the message. But human noses and teeth aren’t exactly up to par for that, right?”

“…Right.”

“So these pairs did both.”

“Both?”

“Again, extrapolation, and oral tradition.” Renjun qualified his explanation as he quickly clicked to the next slide, which had bullet points for what he was now laying out to you. “Unlike a normal wound, a werewolf’s mating bite would heal quickly and had no risk of infection, even for a human. But a human couldn’t do that back to the werewolf, and the human can’t really smell that much of a difference. But handmade, matching necklaces with a precious stone? Now that’s something everyone can see and understand.”

You nodded, “Yeah, okay. I get it. You want to make sure that both of you feel honored and loved in however that manifests for each of you, and obviously you want your partner to express their love for you in whatever way feels the most genuine and powerful.”

“Uh… yeah…” Renjun gave you a strange look. “I mean, in the field we look at it as a fascinating example of the blending of different cultures but-but that’s… cool… too…”

You gave him an unamused look before gesturing to the screen and to the left. “Can you go back one?”

He obliged, and you pointed at pictures. “What stone is that? Do you know?”

“Do I know what kind of stone it is?” He scoffed mockingly. “Of course I do, it’s moonstone.”

“Helps werewolves have more control over and less pain through their shift on the full moon.” You smiled as you recognized exactly why the human had chosen it all those years ago. “A perfect choice for the necklace that you intend for your werewolf lover to never take off.”

Your friend put a hand over his heart, looking at you with delight. “I knew you’d like that one. God, I almost don’t want to tell you about the werewolf brothels of the 1600s now.”

“The what?!”

Leaving Renjun’s apartment you were a changed person, but overall better, and now equipped with a lot of useful and important information. Quickly dialing up a contact on your phone, you listened to the line ring one, two times before it was picked up.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jaemin greeted you enthusiastically.

“Hey, Jaemin!” You turned a corner, your destination already in mind. “Are you home?”

“Yeah, Jeno’s at the gym right now but he should be back soon if you want to come over.”

“Actually, I wanted to ask if you wanted to go shopping? With me?”

“So why doesn’t Jeno have any moonstone?” You asked Jaemin as the two of you meandered down the aisles of one of the apothecaries in town. “It seems like something that every werewolf should just be stocked up on.”

Jaemin delicately inspected a few live herbs that were growing in small pots on a windowsill. “Jeno’s… weird about his shifting.”

“Weird how?”

“He doesn’t want anything that’ll make the process like, comfortable at all? For some reason.”

You looked back at him in disbelief. “Jeno? Lee Jeno? We’re talking about the same man who turns into the most pitiful oversized puppy I’ve ever seen when he gets an upset tummy? He wants to unnecessarily suffer once a month, every month?”

The dryad shrugged, “I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve tried to convince him to get some moonstone or at least let me make him a tonic to take beforehand, but I’m sure you know by now how stubborn he can get.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, chewing on your bottom lip. It seemed like your errand was going to be futile.

Sensing your shift in mood, your friend patted your shoulder reassuringly. “I think you’ll have much better luck, Y/N. If there’s one thing that he’s more stubborn about than anything else, it’s how much he loves you.”

“Thanks, Jaemin.”

That apothecary ended up being a bust for moonstone (though Jaemin did rescue a couple new plants that he deemed weren’t being taken of well enough), and you had to head off to the bakery right after that, no time to check out any others that were around.

“Hey, Minseok,” you gave your boss a rather unenthusiastic greeting as you wrapped your apron around you and washed up in the sink.

The sphinx was surprisingly in the back with his own apron on, and not in the office. Whoever was on shift in the kitchen that afternoon must have had to call out today. You just had to come in to prep the doughs and starters that needed to ferment overnight.

“Y/N, good evening,” he waved at you as he packed up a few empty trays. “How are you?”

“Ehh, fine.” You started taking down clean mixing bowls. “And no, I really don’t feel like expounding on that.”

Minseok held his hands up in an easy surrender. “That’s fair. But uh, I feel the need to ask… everything okay with you and Jeno?”

“What? Yeah, yeah,” you reassured him. “Don’t worry, tomorrow’s opening shift is safe.”

“That’s reassuring, but not really why I was asking.” He caught your eye knowingly. Of course, he really did just care.

You nodded, “Thanks, Minseok.”

“Anyway, I didn’t get to do any of my admin work today so—” He untied his apron and hung it on a hook. “Looks like it’s you and me for post-closing tonight.”

“What a party. Me shaping a bunch of loaves of bread and you making Excel spreadsheets.”

Sat on Jeno’s bed that night, you let your head fall forward as his warm hands worked at the muscles of your shoulders and neck.

“God, Y/N, did you not use proper kneading form or whatever bakers do?” He chastised you half-jokingly, thumb finding another knot by your shoulder blade. “How did you get this messed up after one short post-closing shift at the bakery? Did Mr. Minseok put you on a dough hook in one of the mixers or something?”

“That actually kind of sounds like it’d feel good at this point.” Your laugh turned into a groan as he had finally loosened up one area of tightness, then moved onto another.

“Seriously, maybe you should look into some orthopedic footwear or something.”

“My shoes were plenty sensible. I was just too tense today, that’s all.”

“Something on your mind?” Jeno continued massaging as you slowly rolled out your shoulders and neck.

“Yeah…”

“Is it whatever you’ve been scheming up with Renjun and Jaemin?”

You whipped your head around to look at him, wincing as you just undid pretty much everything Jeno had just fixed in your neck. “Ow…”

Your boyfriend sighed, gently turned your head back around, and brought his fingers to the sides of your neck. He gently massaged the pain away again as he kept talking. “I’ll let you keep scheming, baby, but if you want to tell me, I’m all ears. Especially if it’ll keep your occupational hazards to a minimum.”

Now mostly pain free once more, you slowly reached forward for your laptop that was at the foot of the bed, Jeno’s hands falling from your neck to your hips as you did so.

“I want to show you something, pup,” you declared, opening the computer up.

“Okay,” he agreed in a sing-song voice, scooting back to sit against multitude of pillows, bringing you with him.

As Jeno hooked his chin over your shoulder to watch what you were doing, you pulled up a new tab on your computer to do a quick search. You already knew the image that Renjun had showed you earlier was available online; you’d found it when you were explaining your idea to Jaemin at the apothecary. Jeno made a small bewildered ‘hm?’ noise as you typed in “werewolf human burial necklaces,” but ultimately stayed quiet as dozens of academic articles immediately popped up, along with the image of the two sets of remains beside each other, the pieces of the jewelry among them. You clicked on the picture to make it full screen.

“So these—” you pointed to the two skeletons “—are a mated pair from over a thousand years ago, a werewolf and a human. Their pack buried them together just like any other mates.”

“Aw,” Jeno kissed your cheek. “It’s us a thousand years ago.”

You smiled to yourself at that, reaching up to scratch his head approvingly before focusing back on the picture again.

“And they also had these necklaces, with matching moonstones.” You tapped the screen again to draw attention to the gems.

“That’s beautiful, Y/N.” He nuzzled his nose into the crook of your neck. “Thank you for showing me this. Really.”

“Jeno…” You twisted to be able to see his face. “Why don’t you have any moonstone?”

You felt him breathe in and back out against your skin, and let him take as long as he needed to gather his thoughts. After a few moments, he sat up straight again, a thoughtful look on his face.

“It’s... kind of hard to explain. But it always felt like, I don’t know, a crutch? Like, I shouldn’t need it?”

“What?” You couldn’t keep the confusion from your voice.

“Saying that out loud, I’m realizing how uh, dumb that is now,” he chuckled sheepishly. “I sort of thought that werewolves before me always went through their shifts without any stuff like that just fine, so why should I need it?”

“Jeno, you realize that sounds like if I said that humans two thousand years ago survived just fine before the discovery of penicillin, so I shouldn’t go to the doctor for antibiotics when I get sick? Right?”

“Y-Yeah...” He grimaced. “Besides, I was wrong about werewolves of the past not using moonstone, clearly.”

He gestured to the picture on your laptop screen, and let out another sigh. “I just wish I knew how we got from packs burying werewolf-human mates together with matching moonstone necklaces to... where we are now.”

“Oh, Renjun has a PowerPoint on it if you really want to know.”

“That’s what you two were doing today? For three hours?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll pass.” He wrinkled his nose. “I think I’ve got a much better teacher right here anyway.”

“This was the first three slides, you know? Bold of you to assume I retained anything else Renjun said after.”

Jeno’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. “That’s fair.”

“So...” You pushed the laptop forward again, then rested your hands over his that were wrapped around your waist. “Will you get some moonstone? I hate to think that you’re suffering every month when you don’t need to.”

“On one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“We get a matching set.”

You nodded, a soft smile spreading across your face. “Okay. Yes.”

Jeno’s grin was blinding, but you only saw a glimpse of it before you were fully twisting around to throw your arms around his neck. He let you tackle him back into the pillows, pulling you down with him. You laughed as you landed on top of him, his arms holding you tight. You took this as your opportunity to pepper his face with kisses as he always did to you, across his cheeks, and nose, and forehead, until you had a sufficiently giggly werewolf beneath you.

“You were right,” he murmured, the bright grin not falling from his face, but morphing instead into a tender smile as he looked up at you, bringing one hand up to caress your cheek.

“I know I was,” you teased, turning your head to peck the palm of his hand, then turned it back to lean into his touch. “But I have no clue what you’re talking about specifically.”

“Love isn’t pain. It’s what stops the hurting.”

His words went right to your heart, and you could only bite down on your lip and nod so as to not burst into tears then and there. Jeno wrapped both his arms around you again, rolling the two of you onto your sides and tucking you under his chin. You pressed your face into his shirt, basking in how warm and secure and loved you felt and knew you were in that moment. And that Jeno knew he was too. The fact that he knew, he finally got it, and was letting you two put it into practice in your lives, too. Your life, together.

Oh, yep, you were crying. But they were happy tears, loving, loved tears. You were feeling with every fiber of your being.

You breathed in deeply, breathed Jeno in deeply. Being a werewolf, his sense of smell was sensitive, so he didn’t use heavily perfumed products, nor wore any colognes or perfumes himself. So you could just smell clean, fresh Jeno. And he, oh so cleverly, smelled like home, like safety, like love.

When you finally looked up at your boyfriend, he looked down at you so lovingly, you felt another round of tears welling up already. But you held them back just long enough to tenderly brush a stray piece of hair from his forehead, and whisper into the quiet of the night, “I love you, Lee Jeno.”

He pressed a long kiss to your forehead, then murmured back, “I love you too, Y/L/N Y/N.”

Unlocking the back door to Half Moon Bakery the next morning, you flicked the lights on and led the way in with a skip in your step. Jeno trailed in behind you still rubbing sleep out of his eyes. Yeah, he was never going to be a morning wolf, especially when he now insisted on accompanying you when you went in at 4 a.m. to do the pre-opening kitchen prep, instead of coming in for the front opening at 6 a.m. like he used to. You secured your apron around your waist, put on your music, washed your hands, and got to work.

While it was more tiring to have back-to-back post-closing and opening shifts, you tended to prefer being able to bake your own doughs and loaves that you prepared the night before rather than ones that someone else had done. Not that you were necessarily a perfectionist or elitest about it (okay maybe a little bit that), but it was always satisfying to see the end product of something that you had started. To work on something from start to finish.

You hadn’t kept track of time, nor even of where your boyfriend was, until Jeno popped his head into the kitchen—you admittedly hadn’t realized he’d left it—to announce, “T-minus ten minutes until opening.”

“Got it, thanks, baby,” you smiled up at him, hands preoccupied with dusting powdered sugar over some pastries.

When you came to a stopping point with that task, you went to pause your own music, and could finally hear Jeno’s floating in from the front. You took joy in the small delight of Jeno’s voice being carried back too as he conversed with customers, smiling to yourself when you could hear his voice pitch up if he got particularly excited about whatever they were talking about, or drop with confusion as he would ask a customer to repeat an order that either didn’t make sense or he didn’t hear.

As you carried out a tray of cream-filled croissants—matcha flavored and strawberry flavored—you kept your eyes focused on your destination, the display case of pastries up by the register. You knew that these were a popular item, and usually worked to refill them first. There were only two matcha ones and a strawberry left, so it looks like you brought out a fresh batch just in the nick of time.

“Ah, perfect timing, Y/N!” Jeno’s voice made you stop dead in your tracks as you were setting the fresh tray on top of the case and were about to grab the old one.

You stood up straight, looking over at him in alarm. Three young kids, a dryad boy, human boy, and phoenix girl were at the register, barely big enough to see over the counter, accompanied by who you guessed to be the phoenix’s father.

“Hello,” you nodded to them politely, then looked to Jeno for an explanation. “Is something wrong, Jeno?”

“Y/N here is our baker, she makes all the delicious treats you guys eat,” Jeno said to the kids. “Including those brownies you loved so much.”

The adult phoenix spoke up, addressing you, “They loved the limited-edition peanut butter brownies you all had in the summer. They come in and beg poor Jeno here for them almost every day. I’ve tried to explain what limited-edition means to them, but...” He trailed off, giving you a sheepish shrug.

“They were sooo good!” The phoenix exclaimed, clutching her stomach dramatically.

“Why did you take them away?” The dryad asked curiously, a slight pout on his face that matched that of the toad perched on his shoulder.

“Is it ‘cause nobody was eating them? ‘Cause we’ll come eat all of them!” The human gestured to the three kids.

You chuckled, “It makes me really happy that you guys liked them so much. Thank you.”

“I beg her to bring them back all the time too, guys. Never works...” Jeno sighed melodramatically, and you elbowed him in the side.

“I literally made you some last week,” you said to him under your breath through gritted teeth. “Spoiled…”

Your boyfriend simply smiled at you innocently, and you turned your focus back to the children.

“Since I know they were so popular, I will see what I can do, okay?” You told them.

They erupted into cheers, and you found yourself grinning too, feeling your heart warmed to see so much happiness just from your baking. You finished swapping out the trays of croissants as Jeno rang up their order, then you disappeared back into the safety and quiet of the kitchens.

Minseok, whose initial appearance a few hours ago let you know it was 8 a.m., left his office then, grabbing an apron hanging on one of the hooks along the wall.

“Filling in again?” You asked him curiously, taking a fresh pan of bread out of the oven. Must be 11:00 already.

“Johnny called in sick. Or, his roommate called in sick for him. Apparently he accidentally petrified the poor guy,” your boss sighed, washing up in the sink. “He was trying to tell me the petrification usually only lasts ten to thirty minutes so Johnny would be late, but I just told him Johnny could have the day off. Sounds like he’s going to need it.”

You winced sympathetically. Poor Johnny. Mark, Johnny’s roommate, was a friend of Jeno’s, so you were keenly aware of the basilisk’s struggles with his recently developed powers; and Johnny was a new part-time hire at Half Moon, so you had gotten to know the human and had heard from him some of the unfortunate happenstances the two roommates would find themselves in as well. Johnny was at least usually in good spirits about it and seemed to find them funny most of the time.

“Mark’s trying his best…” You tried to put up a lukewarm defense of your boyfriend’s friend.

“I’d appreciate it if he tried a little harder not to petrify my employees.”

You didn’t have a good comeback, and so with that, Minseok took a tray of half-moon dipped cookies that were ready to go into the front with him. Jeno popped back in just a couple minutes later with the empty tray, already snickering.

“It’s not funny,” you pointed at him, warning in your tone. You knew what he was laughing at, surely having asked Minseok why he was working up front today.

“It’s a little funny,” he argued.

“No it’s not.”

“Come on, I bet Johnny thinks it’s funny.”

“And I’m sure Mark is mortified and hates his life right now.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of Mark’s general state of existence,” Jeno pointed out, meandering around the kitchen towards you.

You turned around to face him as he came up behind you, crossing your arms over your chest. “Be nice, pup.”

“Mmm, I’ll consider it,” he teased, standing in front of you and crossing his arms to mimic you. “Why?”

“If you don’t, I won’t ask Minseok if we can bring back the limited-edition peanut butter cup brownie.”

Jeno narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t disappoint those little kids just to teach me a lesson.”

“And, I won’t give you the peanut butter cookie discard I saved you from earlier.”

You saw his face perk up at that. His eyes glanced around the kitchen countertops searching for it. “You saved me one?”

“Well not if you’re going to be mean. I’ll just give it to Mark, sounds like he needs a pick-me-up right now a lot more than you.”

“Okay fine it’s not funny! It’s so unfunny! I definitely didn’t dribble water all over myself when Mr. Minseok told me because I laughed and choked because it was so funny. Because it’s not funny! I promise!” Jeno pleaded with you, uncrossing his arms and grabbing your shoulders desperately. It was then that you could see that the front of his shirt and apron did in fact have wet marks on them.

You rolled your eyes as you reached out to touch the damp material. “Jeno, seriously?”

“That was before I learned that it wasn’t funny! I’m sorry!”

“Is this why you came back here? To get a new apron?” You surmised, already knowing the answer by the nervous little smile you got in response.

“And return the empty pan and see my beautiful girlfriend that I love so much,” he added, which admittedly, did make you smile fondly as you pulled him over towards the sink by his forearm.

You held out a hand expectantly. “Apron.”

He untied the garment and handed it to you, and you went to swap it for one of the spare ones. Hopefully it would be mostly dry by the time you two left so you could just take it with you and toss it in the laundry when you got home. Jeno had taken a couple paper towels to the worst patches of his shirt, but unfortunately, it was grey, so he was just going to have to look like someone who didn’t know how to drink water for as long as it took to dry.

“Here.” You handed him the fresh apron, accepting the used paper towels in return to toss out for him.

“Thank you.”

“Honestly, how did you survive this long without me, Lee Jeno?” You clicked your tongue in feigned disappointment as you watched him put his apron on, leaning against the counter with your hip.

“Says the girl with strawberry frosting on her face,” he shot back smugly.

“What? Where?” You squeaked, looking around for a napkin.

But Jeno was already grabbing a paper towel, and held it under the persistent drip of the faucet that Minseok couldn’t seem to keep fixed. He grabbed your chin, leaned in close, and gently wiped the damp napkin over a spot on your cheek.

“Right there,” he murmured.

You looked into his big, brown, heart-stopping eyes for just a second before surging forward to close the short distance between your mouths. He smiled into the kiss, the paper towel falling from your cheek as he then gave you one, two more short pecks before pulling back.

Jeno was still holding your chin and pinched it in between his fingers affectionately as he looked at you with his adorable eye smile. “Alright, unfortunately, if I’m back here any longer, Mr. Minseok will come looking for me.”

“I suppose I’ll let you get back to work, then,” you sighed facetiously, grabbing the hand that was on your face and giving it a squeeze before letting it go.

“Yeah, you’re too much of a distraction back here, you know.”

“Shut up and go work, Jeno.”

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