#when you spent 7+ episodes before not doing any of that

[kennyomegasweave]

Taem softly but firmly turned down all of Yak's flirting attempts and, quite literally, skipped over to Ohm when he picked her up at the gym. But in the span of two episodes it turns out she actually did have feelings for Yak and Ohm is a nasty creep?

[lizzyiii]

The Dragon’s Treasure has my WHOLE heart 🥹

thank you, babe. i've really enjoyed writing her and aemond

The Dragon's Treasure (3)

pairing | young aemond targaryen x niece!reader

word count | 11k words

summary | “...and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt a glimmer of happiness for the future.”

tags | as we all know ANGST, ANGST, ANGSTTTT, and eventually rainbow after the storm, SA! (aemonds brothel scene), things do get better y'all, targaryen incest, reader is described to have silver hair and lilac eyes, reader being a sensitive queen, and FLUFF and young love, aemond being a SIMP, TOOTHROTTING FLUFF

a/n | I cried so much, while writing this. I loved writing young aemond, I loved writing young helaena but especially loved writing young reader. I promise you guys this, when I have the time I'll write a one shot of them when they're older and more post-episode 7. When they're older (16&18). Also I really went overboard ngl

likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 1 — 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 2 — 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You weren’t eating again.

Aemond had overheard his mother’s worried whispers as she discussed your condition with the maesters. He was still angry with you—hurt by the thought that you would try to leave them all behind, leave him behind, without a second thought. But no matter how deep his anger ran, his concern for you ran deeper.

After a long and contemplative ride on Vhagar, the weight of the sky above him and the sea below doing little to settle his thoughts, Aemond sought out his mother.

“Aemond,” Alicent began, her voice weary as she looked down at him, her exhaustion evident in the fine lines around her eyes. Between preparing for Aegon and Helaena's wedding and your worsening state, the strain was taking its toll. “I don’t think she’s in the mood for any visitors.”

She still didn’t know the full truth of what had happened—the attempt to run away with Helaena, the plan you had kept hidden from them all. All Alicent knew was that you had retreated into yourself once more, refusing to speak to anyone, even to Helaena, the one who had once pulled you from your darkness.

“It’s her nameday tomorrow,” Aemond murmured, his voice quiet but steady.

Alicent’s face tightened, pain flashing in her eyes as she thought of how you had been before all this—brighter, more spirited. Aemond continued, his tone soft but resolute. “She likes strawberry cakes. Let me bring her one, Mother. Please.”

Alicent’s gaze softened as she looked at her son. Her sharp, determined boy, scarred both in body and soul, yet still showing more kindness than anyone would expect after all he had endured. He had lost an eye, but his heart—his heart still carried a tenderness that surprised her.

She sighed, her shoulders drooping with the weight of her worries. “Very well,” she said softly. “You have my leave to visit her tomorrow.”

Aemond didn’t smile, didn’t show any hint of relief, though inside, the resolve in his chest tightened. He simply nodded in acknowledgment. His mind had already begun to turn over what he would say to you when he saw you—how he might reach you through the walls you had built around yourself.

Tomorrow was your nameday, and whether you liked it or not, Aemond would be there for you.

──────────────────────────────

Aemond’s heart raced as he approached your chambers, his hands gripping the tray carrying strawberry cakes. He had spent much of the morning thinking of what else he could bring—perhaps a necklace, something to match the sapphire that lay hidden beneath his eyepatch. You loved jewelry, and he knew how your eyes lit up at the sight of anything that sparkled. But in the end, he settled on simplicity—just the cakes you loved, hoping they would be enough.

As he neared your door, he was greeted by Ser Rowan, your loyal guard, who stood as firm as ever, his expression stern.

“My prince,” Ser Rowan acknowledged with a nod, his voice gruff. “The princess is in no condition to receive visitors today.”

Aemond stiffened, his chest rising as he squared his shoulders. He would not be turned away so easily. “It is her nameday,” he said firmly, his voice laced with authority. He took a step closer, meeting Ser Rowan’s unyielding gaze with his own, violet eye sharp. “The queen has granted me permission to visit her.”

Ser Rowan remained still, but Aemond didn’t back down. He tilted his head slightly, his tone low and challenging. “Will you disobey the Queen’s word?”

There was a moment of silence as the guard’s eyes flicked down to the tray Aemond carried. His stern expression softened just slightly when he saw the strawberry cakes. Ser Rowan let out a heavy sigh, his duty to you outweighing his hesitation. He too wished for your recovery, and perhaps, he thought, a visit from Aemond might bring some light back into your eyes.

“Very well, my prince,” he said at last, stepping aside. He opened the door with a creak, allowing Aemond to enter.

Aemond took a deep breath, holding the tray steady as he stepped into your chambers. The door closed softly behind him, but the room was dim, heavy with silence. His heart clenched at the sight of you curled up on the bed, facing the wall, your small form barely stirring.

"Niece," Aemond’s voice echoed softly through the room, breaking the heavy silence of your chambers.

There was a pause, and then your voice, quiet and tired, reached him. "Go away."

He pursed his lips, setting the tray down gently on the bedside table. The room was dim, shrouded in a pink hue from your curtains, and he made his way over to the window, pulling the drapes wide open. Sunlight poured in, casting the room in a golden glow.

From behind him, you hissed, "Close them." He heard the rustle of your blankets as you pulled them over your head, shielding yourself from the brightness.

Aemond couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he turned back to face you. "Happy Nameday," he said, his tone lighter than before. "I brought you something."

"I don’t want it," you muttered from beneath the covers, your voice muffled and distant.

He sat beside you, his movements careful, placing the tray of strawberry cakes within arm’s reach. "I’m sure you will," he replied softly, hoping to coax you out from your cocoon of blankets.

For a few moments, there was nothing—just the faint sounds of the breeze outside and the distant chatter from the courtyard. Aemond sighed, the weight of the silence between you heavier than he could bear. He reached out, his hand hovering just above your arm, but then hesitated. His fingers twitched before he pulled his hand back, unsure of how to communicate with you.

"You know," he began quietly, his voice careful, "I wouldn’t force that on you. To bear children you don’t want. One would be enough."

There was a sharp scoff from beneath the blankets. "How generous of you," you replied, the bitterness in your tone unmistakable.

Aemond’s jaw tightened, but he kept his gaze steady on the blankets that covered you. His mind drifted to the records he had been reading, the histories you both loved to discuss. He knew how much you valued stories of the past, of old kings and queens, of the lives they led. Swallowing, he decided to share what had been on his mind, hoping it might reach you.

"I’ve been reading more since our last talk," he murmured. "About King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. Even after many children, he made her bear more when she didn’t wish to." His voice was soft but steady, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. He had been thinking of you, trying to understand your fears.

The sunlight streamed across your bed, casting shadows as Aemond spoke. He knew that love was rare among their kind, especially in Targaryen unions, but he hoped. Hoped that maybe, in time, you would not just be duty and title to him.

"I would never do that to you," he added, his tone sincere, almost vulnerable. "I want our marriage to be different."

The room was still. The only sound was the faint rustling of the breeze outside, and the quiet breathing of Dreamfyre from somewhere far beyond your window. Aemond’s words lingered, waiting for you to respond, to show him something—anything—that might bridge the gap between you.

Slowly, you lowered the blankets just enough for your eyes to peek out, meeting Aemond's gaze. "He was a bad man," you mumbled, referring to King Jaehaerys.

Aemond, ever the scholar, couldn’t resist. "He was a good king," he pointed out, his tone firm but calm.

You rolled your eyes, a small defiance shining through your sadness. "Still a bad man." For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, and then you added thoughtfully, "Aenys Targaryen was a good man."

Aemond let out a scoff. "He was weak."

You narrowed your eyes at him, but there was a flicker of something behind your lilac gaze, something like amusement. "A weak king, yes. Only because he tried to make everyone happy."

Your eyes shifted towards the tray on the bedside table, where the strawberry cakes sat. After a moment of hesitation, your voice, still tinged with sadness, broke the silence. "Is today really my nameday?"

Aemond nodded, his own expression softening. "Yes."

"Oh." Your response was quiet, almost absent-minded, as if you were still processing.

Aemond reached for the tray and held it out to you, offering a tentative smile. "Would you like one?"

You eyed the cakes, and though your sadness still lingered, something softened in your expression. "Those do look nice," you murmured. Finally, you pulled the blanket away from your face and sat up slowly, your movements careful and deliberate. Though your face remained neutral, devoid of the joy that used to light it up, you gave a small nod. "Alright."

Aemond couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face as he handed you a cake. It wasn’t much, but seeing you like this—out of bed, talking to him—felt like a small victory.

As you took a bite, your eyes flickered to his once more, and Aemond stayed beside you, content with the simple moment of shared silence, hopeful that things might get better.

Aemond felt as though he were trapped in a cage of unbearable heat, the air around him thick, suffocating. The wine—a dark, bitter liquid that Aegon had forced upon him—now churned wildly in his stomach, its taste sour and unpleasant. He longed to rid himself of it, to escape the strange and unfamiliar sensations overtaking him.

It was after the grand feast in honor of his thirteenth nameday that Aegon, with a sly grin and a glint in his eye, had promised him a "surprise." Aemond, still naive to the darker aspects of his brother’s humor, had followed without protest, his curiosity outweighing his caution. They had ventured deep into King’s Landing, to a shadowed place Aemond had never seen before—a pleasure house filled with laughter and the soft rustling of silks.

Before Aemond could voice his hesitation, Aegon had disappeared into the throng of bodies, swallowed by the merry voices and whispers of the women within. And Aemond was left alone, standing awkwardly, unsure of what was to happen next.

He was led into a small chamber, dimly lit by flickering candles, their soft glow casting strange and unsettling shadows on the walls. The tapestries that adorned the room depicted scenes he barely understood—men and women entwined in ways that seemed more confusing than enticing. He felt a knot tightening in his chest, and a cold wave of dread settled over him.

Then she entered—a woman far older than his mother, her presence overwhelming in the confined space. She smiled at him, her voice soft and syrupy, laced with sweet lies that made his skin crawl. She cooed over him, her hands reaching for him before he had the chance to say anything, her touch gentle yet intrusive as she began to undress him.

Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest, and every fiber of his being screamed for her to stop, to leave him be. But his voice—his strength—had abandoned him. He remained frozen, his limbs stiff and unresponsive as she whispered things into his ear, words he wished he hadn’t heard, promises he didn’t understand.

When it was over, Aemond was left numb. He sat there, silent, as if his body no longer belonged to him, as though he had become something entirely separate from himself. Trembling, he fumbled with his clothes, his fingers shaking as he struggled to dress. His mind was a whirl of confusion, shame, and anger, but above all, he felt the desperate need to flee.

He didn’t care where Aegon had gone, didn’t want to face him or anyone else. The only thought that filled his mind was reaching you, his niece, his betrothed, his future wife, the one person who might make him feel whole again.

His feet carried him through the secret passageways of Maegor’s Holdfast, each step heavy with fear and sorrow. His breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, his chest aching as he pushed himself to move faster. His tears—hot and unbidden—ran down his cheeks, blurring his vision, but he did not stop.

He passed his own chambers, the rooms of his mother, and everyone else, not wanting to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside him. He only wanted you.

It felt as though the gods had granted Aemond a moment of mercy when he reached your chambers, finding Ser Rowan absent from his post. Without hesitation, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, his heart still racing, tears brimming in his eye as he struggled to hold them back.

You were fast asleep, your back turned toward him. Aemond let out a quiet breath of relief. He hadn’t come to disturb you, only to be near you—just your presence, your warmth, was enough to calm the storm inside him.

Quietly, he made his way to your bed and carefully, as if afraid to wake you, slid in beside you. He kept a respectful distance, not wanting to intrude, but just close enough to feel your presence. The motion stirred you from your sleep, and you sat up, blinking in confusion.

Your eyes widened when they fell on Aemond, and for a brief, horrible moment, he realised it was because of his face. He had forgotten—he had left his eye patch behind at the brothel. The clear ragged sapphire was bare for you to see.

Panic surged through him. You would be disgusted, he thought, repelled by the sight of his disfigurement. He moved to leave, heart pounding, but your voice reached him before he could retreat.

“Aemond, breathe,” you whispered, your strained voice soft and steady.

He froze, his chest tight with the effort to suppress his panic. He needed to leave—he couldn’t bear for you to see him like this. Not you, his dearest niece, who always knew him as strong, as whole. He couldn’t let you witness the broken, ruined side of him.

But then, you reached out, grabbing his trembling hands in your own small ones, your touch warm and gentle. "Please, stay," you whispered, your voice filled with concern. Slowly, you began rubbing his cold hands, trying to bring warmth back to him, both in body and spirit.

His breathing was still uneven, but your soft words and the warmth of your touch soothed him. He looked up, meeting your eyes for the first time. There was no disgust there, no fear—only worry and care. Just like before. Slowly, the tension began to leave his body, and for the first time since he had fled that terrible place, Aemond felt a glimmer of relief.

He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hands a little tighter. "I don’t care about your face, Aemond," you murmured softly, your tired lilac eyes meeting his. "I care about you."

As you gently laid back onto your pillow, you looked at Aemond with concern, urging him to lie beside you. He hesitated for a moment, but slowly, he did as you asked, his awkward frame seeming out of place in your small bed. You turned to face him, your wide lilac eyes full of care, while Aemond’s own single violet eye struggled to meet yours.

With quiet care, you reached out, placing your small hand on his scarred cheek. He flinched at first, his breath catching in his throat, but you didn’t pull away. Your fingers traced the jagged line of the scar that ran down his face, the skin rough beneath your touch. It was as if you weren’t looking at the scar at all, just him—Aemond, your beloved uncle, the boy who protected you, who read to you, who you always knew to be brave.

He shivered under your touch, his emotions twisting inside him. But you said nothing more, just a quiet, simple comfort.

“Sleep, Aemond,” you whispered softly, your voice gentle and soothing. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

The words wrapped around him like a balm, a promise in the soft glow of the dim candlelight. For so long, Aemond had carried his burdens alone, but in this moment, with your hand on his face and your soft breath mingling with the night air, he felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel since Driftmark—peace.

His eye fluttered shut, and with the rhythm of your breathing beside him, he let himself drift away, finally surrendering to sleep.

──────────────────────────────

Aemond entered your chambers quietly, the weight of the box in his hands almost insignificant compared to the heaviness that lingered in the air. He had been allowed to visit freely now, thanks to Ser Rowan's softening stance, but each visit felt like walking on a thread, delicate and uncertain.

He paused when he saw you on the chaise, struggling with your embroidery. The soft light from the window highlighted the paleness of your features—still recovering, still distant, but better than before. You were eating now, and though your mood hadn't brightened, that small improvement brought Aemond some comfort. He cherished these moments, even if they were shrouded in silence.

"I've brought something for you," he said, his voice steady yet quiet as he approached.

You glanced up from your work but said nothing. The tangled mess of threads on the pillow caught his eye, and he bent slightly to inspect it, attempting to mask the awkwardness he always felt in the wake of that night. He hadn’t been ready to speak of it, and thankfully, neither had you.

"That’s a nice lion," Aemond offered, pointing to the uneven form stitched into the fabric.

Your lips parted slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement mixing with frustration as you murmured, "It was supposed to be the Queen."

Aemond’s lips twitched in response, nodding solemnly as if in deep thought. "Now that you say it," he replied, his voice light, "I do recognize her hair."

With a small sigh, you tossed the pillow aside like it was something offensive, watching as it tumbled to the floor, forgotten. Your eyes flickered towards the box in Aemond’s hands, suspicion mingling with curiosity.

"What have you brought me?" you asked, your voice quiet, but holding a hint of anticipation.

Aemond didn’t reply at first, simply stepping forward and offering the box to you, his expression unreadable. You hesitated for a moment, then carefully took it from him.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you lifted the lid, pulling back the fine paper that covered the gift inside. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you uncovered a stunning gown—lilac silk adorned with delicate embroidery, tiny jewels catching the light like stars. Your hands traced the fabric, feeling the softness beneath your fingertips, the craftsmanship clear in every stitch.

Aemond watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your face. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was a shift in your expression—a glimmer of something that almost resembled joy.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his voice low, holding his breath as he awaited your response.

You glanced up at him, and for the first time in many moons, you smiled. It was small, barely there, but it warmed Aemond's heart like the sun after a long winter.

"Yes, I do," you replied softly, still admiring the gown. "What's it for?"

"Helaena's wedding."

At once, the warmth in the room seemed to drain away. The smile you had given Aemond, fleeting as it was, vanished, leaving a hollow silence in its wake. His heart sank, watching as you carefully folded the gown, tucking it back into the box with deliberate gentleness. The delicate fabric crinkled under your hands as though it were something too precious to be touched, something that no longer belonged to you.

"I'm afraid you've wasted your efforts," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your gaze fixed on the gown. "I'm not going."

Aemond's brow furrowed, frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. He stepped closer, his voice steady yet urgent. "You have to go."

But you refused to meet his eye. You knew how intense his gaze could be, how easily it could pierce through your defenses. Staring at the box instead, you shook your head, your words coming out firm, resolute. "I won't."

Aemond's lips pressed into a thin line, the familiar weight of your stubbornness settling between you both. "Helaena needs you," he urged, his tone softening, as if pleading might sway you.

You let out a bitter sigh, your fingers tracing the edge of the box, a dull ache settling in your chest. "Well, perhaps I can hurt her the same way she hurt me," you muttered, your words tinged with petulance, though the pain beneath them was clear.

Aemond stood in silence for a long moment, weighing your words, the tension in the air thick between you. His voice, quieter this time, broke the silence like a whisper carried on the wind. "Will you really not go?"

"No," you replied, though your voice softened now, the sharp edge of defiance fading. You hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing your face. You raised your chin, trying to hold onto the last bit of resolve. "Now, is that all you've come to visit me for?"

Aemond's heart ached at the sight of you—so distant, so caught in your own sorrow. He stood there, unsure of how to reach you, the distance between you feeling far more than just the space in the room.

The day of Helaena’s wedding arrived, and just as you had promised, you didn’t go. Aemond had come to your chambers in the morning, his expression pleading as he urged you one last time to change your mind. His words were careful, filled with the weight of his disappointment, but still, you remained firm.

You had refused.

As the sun set, casting a warm golden hue across the castle walls, you lay alone in your chambers, curled beneath the thick blankets on your bed. The echoes of the celebrations reached your ears in faint murmurs, muffled by the heavy stone of the keep. The joyous sounds of laughter and music only seemed to deepen the ache in your heart.

It was when night fell fully that the tears came, slow at first, then faster, spilling onto your pillow as regret took hold of you. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, but it did little to stop the sadness that had finally caught up to you. You could see it so clearly in your mind—Helaena standing alone in the grand Sept, a pale and fragile figure, her face drawn with sorrow. You imagined her forced to marry Aegon, the brother you both knew was unfit for her, and the weight of your absence pressed hard on your chest.

How could you not have been there for her?

The thought made you feel smaller, childish even. You had let your anger and hurt guide you, and in doing so, you had abandoned Helaena on one of the worst days of her life. She was likely miserable, her heart heavy with sadness, and you, spiteful and stubborn, had stayed away. You bit your lip, choking back a sob.

Your gaze drifted to the gown Aemond had gifted you, still lying folded neatly in the box by your bedside, untouched, its lilac fabric gleaming faintly in the moonlight. You reached for it now, pulling the soft material through your fingers as though it could offer you some comfort.

But it didn’t.

It only reminded you of the mistake you had made.

You missed your mother.

For all the hurt she caused, all the ways she had abandoned you, there was still a deep ache for her, like a wound that wouldn’t heal. You wanted to hate her, truly despise her for leaving you behind. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t. The love for her still clung to you like a shadow you couldn’t lose.

As the days passed in the quiet isolation of your chambers, you began to understand things you hadn’t before. With each lonely hour, the weight of your thoughts pressed harder on your heart. Your mother had been selfish, more than you had ever allowed yourself to admit. She had promised you the world, and yet, in the end, she had given you nothing.

You were her firstborn, the eldest of her children, and yet the title that should have been yours had been passed to Jace. He was her heir to the Iron Throne, the future king, while you were left to the shadows. Even Driftmark, the seat of your grandsire, should have been yours by birthright, but it had been given to Luke instead.

The bitterness inside you grew with every thought. You hated them now—your brothers. You knew it was childish, petulant even, but the feelings were there, and they wouldn’t leave. They had taken everything from you. Titles that were rightfully yours, the pride of riding dragons, and worst of all, they still had your mother. They were together as one big happy family on Dragonstone, while you had been left here in King's Landing, a forgotten daughter in the midst of their enemies.

“It’s fine,” you whispered to yourself in the dark, trying to believe it. You had never liked Dragonstone anyway, with its cold winds and sharp rocks. But even as you said it, your heart tightened with the lie. You missed the place, the warmth of the hearth, the sight of the sea from your window, and the feeling of belonging—something you hadn’t felt in so long.

And in the quiet moments, when the anger settled and the room was still, you knew the truth. It wasn’t your brothers’ fault. They hadn’t asked for this, to be born as they were, with all the whispers and shadows cast over their lineage. No, it was your mother’s choices that had led to this. Her indiscretions. But even as that truth formed in your mind, you found that you couldn’t hate her.

It was easier to be angry with them—with Jace and Luke—because hating her, the one you loved most, was something you just couldn’t bear.

──────────────────────────────

"I hated you, you know."

Aemond's head jerked up, eyes widening at the unexpected words. He had been sitting quietly in your chambers, absorbed in a thick tome about the horrors of Essos. You stood across the room, brush in hand, painting the pink walls of your chamber as if it were any other day. But there was a tension in the air, a weight to your voice that made his heart quicken.

You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the canvas as you murmured, "When you claimed Vhagar, I hated you."

The words hung in the air, sharp and heavy. Aemond’s mouth parted slightly, but no words came out. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched you. The stillness of the room was broken only by the soft strokes of your brush against the canvas.

"I feel as if I hate everyone," you continued, voice tight and strained. "I hate Luke and Jace for stealing my titles." Your brush moved faster, more aggressively. "I hate Daemon for stealing my mother. I even hate Baela and Rhaena, if only because they get to have her now, as if she’s theirs instead of mine."

A scoff escaped your lips, but the sound was bitter. Aemond noticed the way your hand trembled slightly, how your breath caught as tears glistened in your lilac eyes.

"I hated Helaena for not running away with me," you whispered, the words coming out choked. "And I hate myself for not having a dragon, for not being someone important, someone worthy of a title."

Tears began streaming down your face, and yet you kept painting, as if the act itself could somehow keep the flood of emotions at bay. Finally, your gaze lifted from the canvas and met Aemond’s. His heart clenched at the sight of your tear-streaked face.

"And I hated you," you said, voice breaking, "for claiming Vhagar and leaving me alone in this world."

The sob that followed was wrenching, and Aemond couldn’t stay still any longer. He moved toward you, closing the distance between you both with careful, deliberate steps. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, your head resting on his shoulder as you wept.

"I don’t want to feel this way," you cried into his tunic, voice muffled and raw. "So pathetic, so angry at everyone. But I can’t help it. And yet, no matter how hard I try, I can never hate her."

Aemond’s chest tightened at your words, his own emotions swirling in a storm he didn’t know how to express. He rested his chin gently on your head, holding you as tightly as he dared, feeling the weight of your pain as if it were his own.

"I know," he whispered softly, his voice rough with emotion. "I know."

And so he held you, offering no more words, just the quiet comfort of his presence as your tears slowly soaked into his shoulder. He wished he could consume your pain and take it away, wished he could make things right. But all he could do was stand there, arms around you, as the world outside seemed so far away.

──────────────────────────────

“How is Helaena?”

It was the first time in what felt like forever that you had left your chambers. Aemond had been persistent, urging you to take some air, to leave the four walls that had become your prison. Reluctantly, you agreed, and now the two of you sat beneath the heart tree in the Godswood, surrounded by the stillness of nature. Aemond had brought a stack of books, ones he knew you both enjoyed, hoping they might distract you.

“The same as ever,” Aemond answered absently, his attention flickering between the pages of the book in his lap and the rustling leaves above.

He paused, glancing up at you. "She’s set to give birth in three moons' time," he added, his voice soft, as if the thought still surprised him.

You looked down, your heart aching at how quickly time had passed. It had been almost two years since you had returned to King’s Landing, and though you tried to avoid thinking about it, you knew things would never be the same. “Is her pregnancy going well?” you asked quietly, your voice small against the whisper of the wind.

Aemond pursed his lips, his brow furrowing in thought. “She has strange cravings," he said, his voice low. "And her belly is… large, perhaps too large for just six moons.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. “I’m sure a visit from you would lift her spirits,” he suggested, his tone careful, as though he didn’t want to push too hard.

You shook your head almost immediately, your silver curls spilling over your shoulders. “I’m not sure it would,” you murmured, your voice full of doubt.

Aemond studied you for a long moment, his sharp violet eye watching the way your expression shifted, the way your gaze seemed to turn inward. "She speaks of you sometimes," he said quietly, trying to find the right words to reach you. "She misses you."

You sighed, pulling your knees to your chest as you looked away from him, your fingers tracing idle patterns in the grass. You missed her too.

Aemond, noticing the sadness clouding your face, cleared his throat, quickly steering the conversation elsewhere. “Perhaps when you feel better,” he began, his voice lighter, “you could join me on a ride with Vhagar.”

Your head snapped up in surprise. “Me? Ride Vhagar?” You shook your head. “I’m not sure Vhagar would like me. A loud, annoying girl.”

Aemond raised a brow, his face dead serious. “If that were true, Vhagar would’ve eaten Baela and Rhaena years ago.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you laughed. A real laugh, bubbling up from deep within, spilling out in a way that felt foreign yet so relieving. Two years of being shut away in your chambers, and now here you were, laughing at Aemond’s dry humor. The sound filled the Godswood, bright and full of life.

Aemond, momentarily stunned, blinked at you in astonishment. He hadn’t expected it, not after everything, but when his mind caught up, a broad smile tugged at his lips. The kind of smile that was rare for him, genuine and unguarded.

“Vhagar will love you,” he said, his voice quiet but sure. He hesitated for just a moment, his thoughts turning to words he longed to say but didn’t. Just as I do, he thought. But instead, he insisted with a warmth in his tone, “I’m sure of that.”

You gave a small shrug, murmuring, "Maybe," without truly committing to the idea.

Aemond studied your face for a moment, his heart lighter at the sound of your earlier laughter, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out. "I claimed Vhagar for the both of us."

Your expression shifted in an instant, the color draining from your face as you stared at him. "What?" you mumbled, barely above a whisper.

Aemond averted his gaze, trying to appear casual, though his heart raced. "I remembered what you said—about sharing a dragon. And when your dragon egg didn’t hatch, I decided... Vhagar should be for both of us." He looked up, meeting your startled lilac eyes with his steady violet one. "For you and me to share."

Tears welled in your eyes without warning, and Aemond’s calm composure crumbled. He immediately scrambled to your side, kneeling in the grass and reaching out to comfort you. "No, no, I didn’t mean to make you cry," he said, his hands hovering nervously, unsure of what to do.

You waved his hands away, though a small smile began to form through your tears. "I feel a bit foolish now," you admitted, as tears continued to fall down your cheeks.

Aemond took your hands gently in his, bringing them to his lips in a tender kiss. "And so?" He whispered, his gaze filled with sincerity.

As the tears dried on your cheeks, you let out a shaky breath, though your nose remained a bit red. "But... I think Vhagar is much more suited for you," you finally said, your voice still soft but calmer.

Aemond nodded, willing to agree if it brought you comfort. "Will you still consider joining me?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

You looked at him, your smile returning, this time more playful. "I shall," you said with a teasing glint in your eyes, your hands still resting in his.

──────────────────────────────

"Princess, are you almost done?"

Ser Rowan’s voice was tinged with exasperation as he stood with arms raised, holding the pose you had instructed. You had begged him to model for your painting when he arrived to greet you at dawn, and now the sun was climbing high in the sky, casting warm rays through the window. Despite the time, he remained your patient subject.

"Almost, Ser Rowan," you replied cheerfully, your brush gliding across the canvas as you focused on capturing the details of his expression.

The knight let out a weary sigh, feeling his muscles beginning to stiffen. Yet he would endure anything to keep the smile on your face; he was your willing captive, devoted to your whims.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Ser Rowan instinctively straightened, positioning himself protectively in front of you. He relaxed his stance when he saw Prince Aemond enter, though a worried look darkened the prince's features.

"Aemond, what’s wrong?" you asked, your brow furrowing in concern as you set down your brush.

The prince was out of breath, urgency threading through his voice. "Helaena went into labor last night. It’s been long and difficult. She’s calling for you."

Your eyes widened, and you opened your mouth in shock, struggling to find your voice amidst the sudden rush of fear and worry.

Before you could respond, Ser Rowan spoke softly but firmly. "Princess, we must go."

You nodded, the news settling in your stomach like a stone, heavy and cold. You hurriedly followed Aemond and Ser Rowan out of your chamber, your heart pounding with a mix of concern and guilt.

Thoughts raced through your mind—what would you say to Helaena? Would she forgive you for not being there these past months? You hadn’t seen her in nearly ten moons, too consumed by your own sadness to leave your room.

As the three of you made your way to the birthing chambers, the air felt thick with anticipation. Upon reaching the door, you encountered another guard who bowed respectfully at your approach.

"The princess has successfully given birth, your Highnesses," he announced, his voice steady.

You and Aemond exchanged a glance, relief washing over you, and he offered you an encouraging nod. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to enter and see Helaena, the weight of your past decisions lingering in the back of your mind, but hope beginning to spark within your heart.

As you stepped into the chamber, your eyes immediately found Queen Alicent standing in the center, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. A soft glow of love radiated from her as she looked down at Helaena's babe, a precious life nestled against her.

Your gaze shifted, and you gasped softly when you finally spotted Helaena on the birthing bed. To your astonishment, she was holding another baby as well.

"Twins," you murmured, the words slipping out louder than intended, catching the attention of both the Queen and Helaena.

Alicent's eyes widened in surprise, and a warm smile spread across her face at the sight of you. "Princess, it brings me joy to see you out of your chambers," she said, her voice gentle.

You nodded, feeling a rush of embarrassment as you shifted your gaze back to Helaena. She was already looking at you, her expression filled with a mix of fatigue and joy. Slowly, you approached the bed, holding your breath as you took in the sight before you.

The babe in Helaena's arms had the unmistakable silver hair of House Targaryen, a stark contrast to the dark-haired children of your brothers. You couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl, but the sight of the tiny face, so fragile and perfect, made your heart swell.

"What are their names?" you asked softly, careful not to disturb the babe's slumber. Your voice barely rose above a whisper, filled with wonder.

A tiny smile bloomed on Helaena's weary face, her eyes lighting up with pride. She gestured to the babe nestled in her arms. "This is Jaehaera," she said, her voice tender. Then she nodded toward the child cradled by Queen Alicent. "And that is Jaehaerys."

You nodded slowly, feeling a swell of warmth at the names, though a shadow lingered in your mind. You didn’t dare ask where Aegon was; the thought of him missing the birth of his children felt too heavy to voice. Carefully, you settled beside Helaena on the birthing bed, the air filled with soft silence and the smell of newborns.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, unable to meet her gaze as your eyes traced the delicate features of Jaehaera. The babe's tiny fingers curled and unfurled, and your heart ached with a mix of joy and regret.

Helaena's hand found yours, giving a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry too," she replied, her voice thick with emotion.

Looking up at her, a relieved smile broke through your sadness, tears glistening in your eyes. In that moment, the past felt a little lighter, the bond between you strengthening. But then Helaena's expression turned hopeful. "Would you like to hold her?"

You immediately shook your head, anxiety creeping in. "I don't know how."

"I didn’t know how either before this," Helaena said, her voice soft and encouraging. She carefully passed Jaehaera into your arms. You cradled the babe as if she were made of glass, your heart racing with both fear and delight. "It’s very easy."

A small laugh escaped you, bubbling with nervousness. "She’s very small."

"Yes," Helaena murmured, a hint of nostalgia in her tone. "Just as we were once."

You gazed down at the sleeping babe, feeling the weight of her tiny form in your arms. You glanced up at Helaena, her eyes shining with love and hope, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt a glimmer of happiness for the future.

You let out a huge yawn as you finally walked back to your chambers, the weight of the day settling on your shoulders. You had spent most of your time in Helaena's chambers, cradling Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in your arms. Queen Alicent had eagerly encouraged your visits, saying it was good practice for when you would have your own children with Aemond.

The thought felt strange yet comforting. After so many hours spent with the tiny babes, you found yourself warming to the idea of one day having a child with Aemond. Of course, that was a distant thought; you were only twelve now, and marriage was still years away. Yet, the notion no longer filled you with dread.

As your health improved and your mood lightened, Queen Alicent insisted you return to your princess lessons with Septa Agertha. The strict septa had been happy to resume your lessons, and to your surprise, she seemed kinder and softer than before, guiding you patiently through your studies.

Despite your busy days, you always tried to carve out time for Aemond. You cherished those moments, whether you were reading together in the library, basking in the sunlight of the gardens, or watching him train with his sword. Today, you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he took down Aegon during practice, his movements fluid and precise.

As you entered your chambers, your eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of Aemond standing amidst the soft pinks of your room, a striking contrast in his dark green leather. He looked entirely out of place, and the nervous smile tugging at his lips only deepened your suspicion.

"It is highly improper for you to visit my chambers so late, Aemond," you teased, crossing your arms as you arched an eyebrow. "Does Ser Rowan know about this?"

Aemond’s smile grew as he replied with a hint of mystery, "Ser Rowan does not know all the entrances to your room."

You rolled your eyes, amused but unconvinced. However, something behind Aemond caught your attention—a small object sitting on your table. You moved closer, but Aemond swiftly stepped in front of you, his hands gently resting on your waist to stop you.

"Wait," he said quickly, clearing his throat. "Before you get angry… don’t. Just trust me."

You eyed him suspiciously but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

"Happy Nameday," Aemond said quietly, almost as if he were embarrassed by the gesture.

You blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Aemond, my nameday was a week ago."

"Still," he muttered, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

With curiosity getting the better of you, you gently pushed past him, approaching the table where the mysterious item sat. There, on the table, was a small brazier pot, the kind used for hatching dragon eggs. Your heart quickened as you slowly lifted the lid.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips when you saw the sparkly navy blue egg resting inside, hot as ever. "Aemond," you whispered, feeling a mix of exasperation and affection.

Aemond stepped up behind you, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, "I know. But you know what they say—fourth time’s the charm."

You let out a soft laugh, rolling your eyes as you turned to face him. Your noses were practically touching as you corrected him, "It’s third time’s the charm, you stubborn idiot."

"I also brought strawberry cakes," Aemond said, seeing that the sight of the dragon egg had done little to lift your spirits.

You tilted your head with a small smile, "You know the way to my heart, Aemond Targaryen."

The two of you found yourselves lounging on your grand pink canopy bed, nestled among the cushions, feasting on strawberry cakes that Aemond had brought for you. The scent of the sweet berries filled the air, and for a moment, all seemed simple and light in your world.

“Aemond, I’ve been thinking,” you began thoughtfully, wiping a bit of cream from your lips.

Aemond raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a mischievous smirk. “My, my, that is worrisome,” he teased, his voice playful.

You shot him a sharp glare before rolling your eyes. With a lift of your chin, you said firmly, “I’ve decided our first child must be a girl.”

Aemond blinked at you, stunned by the declaration. “You understand we do not get to choose, yes?”

You waved his words away dismissively, as if the very idea of leaving such an important matter to chance was absurd. “I believe if I am firm in my belief, then I shall have the choice,” you replied with the confidence only a twelve-year-old could muster.

Aemond gave you a long, bemused look, as if weighing your words for any sense. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head. “Why?” he asked, indulging your fanciful notion.

“Do not mistake me,” you began, leaning back into the pillows with a thoughtful expression. “I love both Jaehaera and Jaehaerys equally. And if we were to have a son, I would love him just as much.”

A big, silly grin spread across your face as you continued, “But I want a daughter. I want to dress her up, match with her, and have her follow me around in little gowns.”

Aemond gave you a knowing look. “You have Jaehaera for that.”

You pouted dramatically, the cake in your hand momentarily forgotten. “It’s not the same. Jaehaera is Helaena’s, not mine.”

Aemond chuckled softly at your logic. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, raising his hands as if surrendering. “I shall pray to the Seven for us to be blessed with a daughter first.”

Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Perhaps a daughter and a son at the same time?”

You glared at him, flicking a cake crumb in his direction. “Why would you wish something like that upon me? Twins?” You shook your head vehemently.

Aemond’s amused smile only widened as he met your deathly serious gaze. “You’re right, my bad,” he said with a chuckle, brushing the crumb off his tunic.

You huffed, but your irritation quickly melted away as you stuffed another bite of cake into your mouth, a small smile tugging at your lips. Despite his teasing, you knew that Aemond would pray to the Seven for whatever you wished—even if that meant asking for something as impossible as choosing your firstborn's gender.

You glanced down at the strawberry cake in your hand, scrunching your nose. "With all this cake you keep bringing me, Aemond, I’m going to grow fat."

Aemond gave you a thoughtful look, his expression serious yet teasing at the same time. "And? Do they not say that more is always better?"

You tried to hold back your amusement, but despite your best effort, a smile tugged at your lips. You sighed, shaking your head as you chuckled softly. "You’re incorrigible."

Aemond tilted his head, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. "Perhaps. But I speak the truth." His eye glimmered as they held yours for a moment longer. "A bit of extra weight would not lessen your beauty."

You blushed, looking away from him as you fiddled with the edge of your dress. "You say that now," you muttered, trying to sound annoyed, but your heart felt light.

"I shall always say that," Aemond countered smoothly, his voice unwavering, as if he truly meant every word. "No matter what the years bring, you will always be perfect to me."

A warmth spread through you, making your cheeks burn even more. You tried to dismiss it, waving a hand at him. "You just want me to keep eating cake so I’ll be too heavy to run away when you’re being impossible."

Aemond smiled at that, his violet eye gleaming with mirth. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just enjoy seeing you happy. And if it takes cake to do that, so be it."

You laughed then, shaking your head at him. "You’ve won this time, but I’ll have my revenge when I’m too fat to walk."

Aemond smirked, leaning closer to you with a satisfied look. "I’ll carry you, then."

You tilted your head, rolling your eyes at Aemond, wondering why he was looking at you like that, as if the world had shifted between the two of you. Somehow, without realizing it, you had drifted closer, your faces mere inches apart. You could feel his breath, soft and warm, as he leaned in further. His eye fluttered shut, and your heart skipped a beat as you sensed what was coming.

Before anything could happen, your hand instinctively shot up, covering his mouth. Aemond froze, opening his eye wide to see you staring at him with confusion. "What are you doing?" you asked, your voice full of suspicion.

He mumbled something beneath your hand, and you lowered it, giving him a curious look as you tried to catch his words.

Clearing his throat, clearly embarrassed, he murmured, "I was trying to kiss you."

You squinted at him, still doubtful. "Aemond," you began cautiously, "Septa Agertha says if a maiden and a man kiss, she’ll become with child. And I think we should at least wait until the twins’ first nameday before we bring another baby into the castle."

Aemond’s lips pressed together tightly, trying to suppress a laugh. His ears turned red as he responded, "Maidens do not become pregnant because of kisses."

"Then how do they become with child?" you asked, raising a challenging brow, your tone daring him to contradict what you’d been taught.

Aemond’s face flushed deeply, and his gaze flickered away in sheer embarrassment. He seemed to search for a way to avoid the topic. "Your Septa will tell you... in time," he muttered, clearly hoping to escape further questioning.

You were about to protest, about to accuse your Septa of lying again—how could you trust her after she said that about kissing? But the sight of Aemond’s bright red cheeks and the way he squirmed told you it was better to drop it. So, with a sigh, you decided to change the subject. "So then," you asked, "why do people kiss if it’s not to make babies?"

Aemond shifted awkwardly before murmuring, "To show affection. It’s what people do when they love each other. Married couples especially."

You raised a skeptical eyebrow, folding your arms. "I’ve never seen my mother and father kiss. And I’ve never seen Grandsire and the Queen kiss either."

Aemond made an exasperated sound, running a hand through his hair. "Well... they’re different," he said, sounding both frustrated and amused.

You tilted your head again, considering his words. "Different how?"

"Just different," Aemond replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he looked at you. "Not everyone is... affectionate like that."

"So, you want to kiss me because you’re affectionate?" you teased, a small smirk growing on your face.

Aemond’s ears burned again, and he glanced away, muttering under his breath. "Something like that..."

You tilted your head, watching him with amusement before shrugging nonchalantly. "Alright," you said, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. "You may kiss me."

Aemond's head snapped back toward you, his eye wide in disbelief. "Really?" he asked, unsure if you were being serious.

You nodded, offering him a small smile before puckering your lips in a way you thought was appropriate for a kiss. "Go on, then," you said, your lips pursed in a dramatic display.

Aemond stared at you for a moment, utterly bewildered. "You can't stare at me like that," he finally managed, his voice a little strangled as he glanced away again, clearly nervous.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, "Alright, Aemond," and then did as he requested, squeezing your eyes shut. You sat there, waiting for him to make the first move, your heart thumping in your chest even though you tried to act as though it didn’t matter at all.

The room felt strangely quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth. You could hear Aemond shift slightly, feel the warmth of him as he leaned in closer. The air between you felt charged, as if something important was about to happen.

His breath ghosted across your lips, soft and hesitant, and your heart skipped a beat. But just as you thought the kiss was going to happen, Aemond hesitated again.

"Are you certain?" he whispered, his voice soft and uncertain, as if he didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.

Without opening your eyes, you replied with a huff, "Yes, Aemond. Just do it."

Aemond finally leaned in, pressing his lips gently to yours in the briefest of kisses. It was awkward and tentative, like neither of you really knew what you were doing, but it was soft and sweet in its own way.

When he pulled back, you opened your eyes, blinking at him. The two of you sat there for a moment, staring at each other in silence, unsure of what to say or do next.

"Well?" Aemond asked, his voice low, his cheeks still a little flushed. "How was that?"

You pursed your lips, considering. "It wasn’t so bad," you admitted, then smiled, a hint of mischief in your eyes. "But I don't think that’ll make me with child, so Septa Agertha must be wrong after all."

Aemond let out a small, relieved chuckle, the tension easing from his shoulders. "No," he agreed quietly, "that won't make you with child."

You both shared a soft laugh, the awkwardness melting away as you realized it wasn’t as strange or nerve-wracking as you thought it would be.

Still, after a moment, you tilted your head and added thoughtfully, "Mayhaps we can try again another time... just to make sure."

Aemond’s face broke into a wide grin at your words, and he shook his head, still amused. "Whenever you like," he promised softly, his voice full of warmth.

Aemond’s smile remained as you shared a quiet moment, a comfortable warmth settling between the two of you. His words, soft and full of promise, made your heart flutter a little, though you tried to ignore it. Just as you were about to speak, a strange sound filled the room.

You paused, frowning in confusion as the sound persisted. Aemond’s brow furrowed, and he gave you the same puzzled look. "What is that?" you asked, your voice low and uncertain.

Before Aemond could answer, the sound came again, louder this time—a soft, irregular rattling, like something gently tapping against metal. Both of you turned your heads toward the source of the noise, your eyes settling on the small brazier pot resting on the table beside your chaise.

The pot was trembling slightly, the lid shifting ever so subtly as if something within was stirring to life.

You exchanged a wary glance with Aemond, both of you too stunned to speak. Hope flickered in your chest, a fragile, cautious feeling that you tried desperately to suppress, even though it grew with each passing second. You didn’t want to feel it—not again. Not after so many failed attempts, so many disappointments.

But as the rattling continued, you couldn’t help but let that hope bloom, filling your chest with an almost painful intensity. You could feel Aemond's steady gaze on you, as if he too shared your mixture of anticipation and disbelief. His hand lightly touched your arm, offering silent reassurance as you both stood frozen in place.

Finally, the rattling grew louder, more insistent. Aemond moved first, stepping cautiously toward the brazier pot, his movements careful, as if approaching something fragile and dangerous all at once.

Your heart pounded in your ears as Aemond gently reached out and lifted the lid.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. You held your breath, waiting, expecting the worst, but then—

A small, sharp crack echoed through the air, and your breath hitched in your throat. Aemond’s eye widened in astonishment as he stepped back slightly, motioning for you to come closer.

With shaky steps, you moved forward, peering into the brazier pot. Inside, nestled among the glowing embers, was the dragon egg—your dragon egg. And it was moving.

Tiny cracks began to spread across the surface, like delicate lines etched into stone. A tiny chirp escaped from within, soft yet insistent, and your heart leapt in your chest.

Aemond’s voice was barely a whisper, full of wonder. "It’s hatching."

You didn’t dare speak, afraid that if you did, the fragile moment would shatter. Instead, you watched in awe as the cracks grew wider, the shell breaking apart bit by bit.

Slowly, a tiny snout poked through the shell, followed by a pair of gleaming, sapphire-blue eyes that blinked up at you curiously.

Aemond’s hand slipped into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to smile.

"It’s really happening," you whispered, barely able to contain the joy welling up inside you.

Aemond stood beside you, his gaze never leaving the hatchling, and he nodded, his voice low but filled with a kind of quiet awe. "Yes, it is."

The tiny dragon stretched its delicate wings, the membrane translucent in the firelight, revealing the rich, dark blue that shimmered against the glow. It was so small, fragile even, yet there was a certain strength in its movements, as though it knew its place in the world. Its scales appeared nearly black in the dim light, but with each flicker of the brazier’s flame, a glint of deep sapphire blue reflected back at you, shimmering like the ocean at night.

You couldn't hold back the soft laugh that bubbled from your lips, a sound of pure, unrestrained joy. Your laughter caught the attention of the little dragon, whose head turned sharply towards you. It blinked, tilting its head, studying you with wide, curious eyes before letting out a sharp screech in response. The sound, though high-pitched, was surprisingly strong for such a tiny creature.

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over, as you knelt closer, your hand trembling slightly as you reached out, but you stopped just short of touching it. It felt too precious, too delicate to handle without care.

"Hello," you murmured, your voice soft and gentle, as though speaking to an infant. "Aren't you absolutely beautiful."

The little dragon blinked again, watching you intently. Its tiny nostrils flared as it took in the scent of the air, its wings fluttering slightly as it made a sound that almost resembled a purr. You couldn't help but smile wider, your heart swelling with affection.

Aemond crouched down beside you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder as he watched the dragon with a look of pride and admiration. "You were meant for each other," he said, his voice filled with certainty.

You looked up at him, tears still brimming in your eyes, and nodded. "I think so," you whispered.

For a long moment, the two of you sat there in quiet awe, watching as the dragon stretched its limbs, adjusting to the world it had just entered. It was strange how something so small could carry such weight, as if this tiny creature already held within it the potential for something great, something magnificent.

As the little dragon shifted closer to you, its warmth radiated through the air, and you felt a bond forming, something deeper than words could express. This was more than just a pet, more than a companion. This was a piece of your soul, reflected in scales and wings, fire and strength.

Aemond’s smile softened as he watched you with the newborn dragon, his gaze flicking between the two of you with a quiet fondness. "What will you name it?" he asked, his voice barely above a murmur, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.

You beamed at the little creature before you, a warmth blooming in your chest as you finally dared to reach out. Gently, you brushed your knuckle against her soft, dark scales. She—yes, she was definitely a girl, you were certain of it—immediately leaned into your touch, her tiny body pressing closer, as if seeking comfort from your warmth.

"Treasure," you whispered, the name slipping from your lips without hesitation. A wide, contented smile grew on your face. "Her name is Treasure."

Aemond blinked, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected name, but then a grin spread across his face, lighting up his features. Of course, you would name your dragon something soft, something sweet and endearing. It was just like you to choose a name that carried such a feeling of warmth, rather than something fierce and grand.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Treasure?" he repeated, his eye twinkling with affection as he looked at you.

You looked up at him, still stroking the dragon’s scales, and nodded firmly. "Yes. Because she’s my treasure," you said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Aemond’s grin only widened as he crouched down beside you again, watching as Treasure nestled closer to your hand, clearly content with the name and her newfound bond with you. "A fitting name," he said quietly, and in that moment, as he watched you and your dragon together, he could see how the two of you were meant for each other.

Treasure let out a soft, sleepy sound, curling closer to the warmth of your hand, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of peace. The bond between you and your dragon was only beginning, but it was already something special—something that would only grow stronger with time.

this is anything but the end

guyssss help, im literally crying thinking about young rhaenyra (milly) and reader as a baby. how reader probably became rhaenyra's new best friend and was the only thing keeping her going in court. And how rhaenyra would talk to her as a full-grown person, while reader, being a baby, would just babble back. And how rhaenyra would probably walk around taking her baby everywhere and riding on Syrax with her. BYE lol that just makes it all sadder

(side note in my head ive decided to give reader/y/n the most basic hotd name and name her aemma. because when she has her own daughter with aemond, she'll name her laenora after her father)

Treasure The dragon

I can just imagine reader doing that Sweeney Todd trend with Treasure:

ohh mr.todd 💋 i'm so happy 💋 I could - 💋 eat you up I really could. you know what I like to do mr. todd 💋 what I dream 💋

Ser Rowan

(it's rick grimes because I say so) (note I've only watched two episodes of the walking dead)

Reader's Mind in a nutshell

(I feel if I made this into a full time fic, reader could lowkey have saved the family and avoided the dance of the dragons entirely)

Hope you enjoyed!

Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(

@evernores @jouryuu @dbd-mommy @g-cf2020 @sl-ut @radiantdanvers @sillysillygyalsmh @callsignwidow @missyviolet123 @thelastemzy @lechat-rouge @sonichkkaaascreams @djarinsstuff @yovrnewromantic @waiting-fortheupdate @strawberymilktea @ninihrtss @kenqki @winter-solstice24 @darlingcharling-blog @feyresqueen @momoewn @literishdegree99 @xxxkat3xxx @6000-fandoms

[bittertasteofhoney]

Good Day Sunshine | Ch. 7

Please Don’t Be Too Good to Be True

Summary: You and Joel settle into a rhythm, but town gossip creeps into your happy bubble.

|| smutty smut smut,  jackson!joel,  jackson!joel x f!reader, unprotected sex (please do not do this), p in v, age-gap, fingering, praise kink, creampie, shower sex, age gap (but legal!), reader is afab ||

Notes: I had to ruin something for the plot, so I am so sorry, but here’s a little smut to make it a little better. And no, I’m not okay after last night’s episode...

18+. Read at your own risk. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Minors DO NOT ENGAGE.

The characters, names and characterizations belong to HBO Max and The Last of Us franchise. This work is my creative property and aside from re-blogs and shares, I do not give permission to share or copy my work without permission or consent.

Previous Chapter.

And so the addiction began. Your life without Joel was fulfilled. You had plenty of friends and support, but never someone to turn to for physical comfort and affection. You never found yourself missing it much. Until Joel.

It was an unspoken thing between you, but after that first night, most evenings were punctuated by Joel knocking on your door, and most mornings were spent waking up in his arms. 

The first night when your routine established itself, you were in your kitchen boiling water when a light tapping sounded at your back patio door. Confused, you padded over and lifted the gingham linen curtain to see Joel standing there looking embarrassed. You cracked it open with a smile on your face. 

“Joel?” He looked up and smiled at you. 

“Hey. I uh…I was wondering if you wanted to…hang out or something…” The man was actually blushing. You cocked your hip to the side and grinned at him.

“Are you asking to come over and chill Joel Miller?” God, his cheeks got even redder. 

He stood there, staring at the ground and slid his boot over a crack in your porch. “Yeah, I guess I am.” 

You smirked and reached out to grab his arm and pull him inside. He closed the door behind him and watched as you walked to your stove to turn the heat off. You didn’t realize, as you added honey to the water and dropped a bag of black tea, that Joel was cataloguing every move. He wanted to mesmerize everything that made you you.

The tea wasn’t the best quality, but you bolted whenever you saw it up for grabs after a supply run. There was nothing like a cup of tea at the end of the day. When you finally noticed the quiet, you turned to see him leaning on your kitchen table with the ghost of a smile on his face.

“You want tea?” Your question was answered with a grimace that caused you to giggle. “I’m sorry to say I don’t have any coffee so this is the closest thing.” He was still staring at you. 

“You want some water? I also have some apples I think-” You leaned over your tea to check your fruit bowl and froze when you felt a pair of hands squeezing your hips.

“Not hungry.” His voice was considerably deeper, and you smirked before pushing your tea off to the side and twisting around to face him. He stood over you, his dark brown eyes focused on your neck. 

“You sure about that Miller? You look like you want something.”

“I do.” He continued looking at your neck and shoulder.

“Anything in particular?” He lifted a hand to finger the strap of the tank top you wore to work.

“You wear this in the gardens today?” You watched him eye the flimsy strap of cotton and nodded your head. His eyes flitted down. “And these tiny little shorts?” Another nod.

“Well, darlin’. I would’ve come over earlier had I known you were walking around in this flimsy little outfit.” You blushed. 

“Weren’t you on patrol?” He nodded, eyes still entranced by your shorts. “I don’t know if Tommy would’ve appreciated you skipping out on patrol just to see me.”

“What Tommy doesn’t know won’t hurt him. This is a much better use of my time.” He slowly lowered to his knees and looped his fingers into the shorts, pulling them down. 

“You don’t mean that-”

“Oh, but I do.” Your shorts were now around your ankles. You delicately stepped out of them with Joel’s fingers slowly running up and down your legs. You were wearing the same red panties you had on when Joel surprised you on that first day on your porch. He swallowed loudly. “I’ve been dreaming about these.”

“Joel, I’m sweaty. I need to shower. I’m covered in dirt and-”

“So, let’s shower.” 

You yelped as he wrapped his arms around your legs and threw you over his shoulder, beelining for your stairs and running up to the second floor. “JOEL!” 

Within seconds, you were deposited back on the floor, this time in your bathroom and watching in shock as Joel smirked at you while stripping off his clothes. It didn’t take long until you were still standing in your undies and tank top, and he was fully nude. He took a slow step toward you and reached around you to turn on the shower, leaning in to test the water temperature as steam began to fill the room. 

“Something you expecting to happen in there, Mr. Miller?”

He shrugged and closed the distance between you. “I got a few ideas. But we can just shower if that’s what you want.” You smirked and shook your head. You peeled off the tank that was beginning to stick to your skin from the steam and looked up as you slid the panties down your thighs.

“I’m hoping for a little more than that.” You kept his gaze as you stepped back carefully into the warm stream of water, watching nervously as he also filled the small space. 

You giggled and whispered, “I’ve never had shower sex.”

He placed his hands on your side and slowly slid them up until they ghosted the outline of your breasts. “It’s not the most practical but I’ve always been a fan of how hot it gets.” You closed your eyes as he palmed them and gently tugged on your nipples. You gasped as he tweaked one a little harshly.

“You’ve done this a lot?” He chuckled as he slid his hands down, one diverting to your ass to give it a squeeze and the other to slip between your folds. 

“I was a bit of a slut when I was younger.” A laugh escaped your lips, but it came out breathy as he slipped a finger in you. 

You tried to instill confidence in your voice. “Alright then, teach. Tell me what to do.” He froze, and you looked up and saw his eyes darken. 

His voice was impossibly deep as he croaked out, “Turn around.” 

You swallowed nervously but obeyed and braced yourself on the slick tile in front of you. He held your hips firm as he nudged your legs further apart with his foot and slid a finger back inside you. You gasped and dug your nails into the tile for some sort of support as he pumped. It wasn’t long before he added a second finger. You whimpered at the stretch, and he whispered little encouragements in your ear. “You’re doing so good, darlin’.”

“You’re going to kill me, Joel Miller.” Another dark chuckle from behind you.

“I think you’re the killer here, Sunshine. I can barely focus on anything but how perfect you are.” Was it the steam or the insatiable man behind you making you blush?

As you grew closer and closer to your orgasm, you reached an arm behind you to find his hardening length. “I need you.” 

That was all it took. His fingers were gone in an instant, and he lined himself up with his entrance before slipping in. You were so relaxed under the hot water that you were ass to hip instantly. 

“Fast. Please. Don’t hold back.” He chuckled again.

“Baby, I wasn’t going to be able to hold back this time. Already know how good it feels.” 

You gasped as he immediately began to pump his hips at a mind-numbing speed. He curled an arm around your waist, bringing it to your belly and pressing against it to make sure the two of you were as close as you could possibly be. 

Your name came out of his mouth like a prayer in quick little bursts, and your orgasms approached unexpectedly fast. It only took a few minutes for the two of you to brace yourself against the shower wall as you came crashing down in tandem. 

It would’ve been embarrassing if the two of you weren’t so wound tight for each other. And it wasn’t as if that was the only time he touched you that night. The two of you barely tumbled out of the shower before he was carrying you to your bed and fucking you deep and slow as you made out like teenagers.

When your rumbling stomachs indicated you should probably do something more than have sex, you made your way downstairs in his t-shirt and he in boxers. You made tomato sandwiches and the two of you ate in companionable silence, only broken by mutual questions about life before Jackson.

He learned about your collie dog named Maple, who died just a year before the outbreak. You listened with grinning cheeks as he recounted a story of Tommy calling him after taking shrooms for the first time in high school, freaking out because he thought the turquoise octagons were going to eat him. 

You couldn’t wait to rib him about that later.

When you started swapping stories from past relationships, the space between you shrank. As you were telling him about your horrific first kiss experience, he pinned you against the counter and silenced you with a much-superior tangle of lips. 

“I don’t want to hear about any other man touching you when I’ve got you right here.” You could only sigh into the kiss. The man definitely knew what to do with his tongue.

And so your days were mapped out: mornings and afternoons spent bent over in the rows of produce, and evenings sweating and panting with Joel Miller in some new location in your home. 

The man seemed hell-bent on christening each corner of your house with you screaming his name. And he was pretty damn close. 

You were blissfully sore each day and covered in hickey marks across your abdomen and inner thigh. He was determined to mark you, but only in a place he could admire. You couldn’t remember a time when you felt this satisfied and desired. 

Most nights, Joel spent in your bed. He only ate dinner with you when Ellie was at Tommy’s and Maria’s or at Dina’s or Jesse’s, but he always knocked on your door before the midnight hour approached. And when the two of you were spent and slipping under the sheets, he always wrapped an arm around your waist and buried his face in your hair, claiming the smell of your homemade rose oil helped him sleep better.

It didn’t take long for people to begin to talk. You kept your and Joel’s “relationship” between the two of you, not wanting to jinx something that felt this good. You didn’t know whether to call him your boyfriend or lover, or friend and thought it best to keep that to yourself before having to explain to Roberta that it felt more than just sex. It felt like companionship and dare you say, something that could eventually turn into love? 

You were miles from that day, but it felt good to imagine. 

You were catching up on logging inventory in the greenhouse when you heard a few of the rotating helpers gossiping about some girl in town.

“I don’t think anyone has seen her outside of work or her house in weeks.”

“I mean, have you seen him? I would be at home waiting in bed the second I got off my shift.” 

“I just feel a bit bad for her.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together in confusion, but decided to tune out their poor attempts at whispering as you counted what was in stock for the week.

When you were delivering potatoes and corn to the mess hall, you walked past the Tipsy Bison and overheard another conversation that made you pause.

“She looks like a fool and I hate it for her. He was a complete jerk to her but the second he made her feel desired, she just fell into his bed. You should’ve seen his face when he was talking to Tommy. Like the cat that got the cream.” 

“Man, I don’t know what she sees in him. How did the resident ray of sunshine end up with such an ass?”

You felt all the blood leave your face. There was no doubt who they were talking about now. You looked over to try and spot who was speaking, but couldn’t pick out an obvious source in the crowd of people outside the general store.

As you walked away, your footsteps quickened as your desire to just finish the delivery took over. You walked the box of vegetables into the back kitchen, dropping them on the wooden counter with a thud before jumping at the crouched form kneeling in front of one of the stoves.

Tommy Miller. He looked over his shoulder at you, grinning as he heard your yelp. “Goddamnit girl, you about made me piss my pants.” He stood and wiped his greasy hands on his jeans. “You our delivery girl today?”

You nodded and looked at him, dazed. “I didn’t realize you were assigned to the mess hall today.” 

He smiled and nodded. The moment turned awkward as neither of you said anything. He took a tentative step forward.

“Hey, I know you and my brother are-”

“Are people saying anything about me and Joel?” 

You both spoke over each other and blushed at his obvious attempt to bridge the awkwardness, but he only frowned. 

“No. Are people talkin’?” You only nodded at him, refusing to meet his eyes. “What are they sayin’?”

You blushed even more. “Just that…I look stupid for being with him after…everything.” He kept frowning. You met his eyes and saw that they looked angry. “Tommy, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said-”

“People in this town really need to learn to keep their mouths shut.” He closed the space between you and placed his hands on your shoulders, steadying you and looking you in the eye. “You hear anyone else runnin’ their mouth, you come to me. I’ll set ‘em straight before Joel gets word. Otherwise, we’ll have another Roddy incident on our hands.”

You cringed, and he rubbed your shoulder in response before dropping his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. My brother needs to learn to get his anger in check and Roddy had it comin’. Fucking tool is what he is. I’m just sorry you had to go through it.” You gave him a polite smile.

“Thank you, Tommy.” He returned your smile and bid you goodbye as you turned on your heel to walk back to the gardens. 

It took everything in you not to overhear conversations as people noticed you walked past. All of them came to the same consensus. You were an easy opportunity for Joel. And he was just going to break your heart.

Next Chapter.

Tag List :) @silksepia @hello-nah817 @longlivetheloneliness @keseqna @millers-girl @treacherqus @lemonboi @spnfic85 @secretlettersfromyourlove

[chenouttachen]

incoming: incomprehensible thoughts about charlie and jeff in ep 7

well. here we are.

my thoughts have been simmering for the past few episodes and now they're boiling over. before we get to today's torment and misery, some highlights that have contributed to our present situation:

charlie taking jeff to the lab, hearing the results and declaring that losing Jeff is not an option. In any situation.

since they've found this family and their place in it, charlie has been able to take on the older brother role in every way - particularly in teasing him and being the person jeff goes to advice

jeff coming to the realisation that, as his powers get more and more out of control, he needs to isolate himself again. especially from the people he loves the most. it was bad enough growing up and seeing their pain, he doesn't want to know what it's like to feel it. and charlie has to stand by and watch his little brother close himself off again, after coming into his own.

when charlie leaves babe after... the incident... jeff tries to be the voice of reason. he knows it rarely ends with charlie listening to him, but he tries his best. charlie also has the sweetest little 'whose little brother are you???' moment and it just cements that if anything, they've become even closer now that everything's behind them (sigh)

(in the process of collecting these screenshots i was reminded that i didn't make any posts about them from eps 2-6 because i was too damn sad)

so now today. episode 7. endless suffering and pain. let's do this.

we've seen the tensions between them rise: jeff has been trying to keep charlie grounded, despite everything going on. but jeff's powers rapidly spiraling out of control has charlie on edge - he's spent years of his life protecting him, and he's not about to lose him, not when he's finally happy. but they're also in a place where they're equals: they share advice (solicited or not), they support each other, and they help each other make hard decisions. or at least, they did until the end of this episode.

at the head of the episode, we've got charlie quitting x-hunter to focus on the drug (allegedly). already we can see guilt weighing heavily on jeff here - he knows that he's a big part of charlie's focus on the lab, and he also knows what a blow this will be to alan.

jeff's not thrilled about this choice, and he takes it directly to charlie, who is kind of stunned, like he doesn't expect jeff to push back so openly. but charlie is also not here for the dramatics.

he's seeing the bigger picture, perhaps too much. he's focused on minimising the circle around him, and trying to ignore the damage that leaves behind. only this leads to charlie having to unravel his motives to distract jeff from alan's heartbreak.

and jeff is jumping on these revelations immediately. he sees the weight of what charlie has decided to shoulder alone, and you can physically see him slump at the realisation that they haven't escaped anything, and that everyone they love is still at risk.

and god, jeff sees right through charlie. he knows immediately that with the increased risk to himself, to x-hunter and especially to babe, there's no way that charlie is going to approach this normally - they faked his death the last time this happened, and jeff was the one who had to pick up the pieces. he tries so hard to break through to charlie, that hey, maybe sacrificing yourself again isn't the best option. but charlie barely hears him. he's so set in his mission to let himself be destroyed in place of his loved ones, that most of what jeff says falls on deaf ears. it's enough though, that it does let babe in later, just a little.

enough time has passed since jeff's last conversation with charlie to know that he clearly hasn't spoken to babe, and jeff has had enough facing all this alone. he watched babe grieve his brother once, and he won't do it again. this doesn't mean he'll throw charlie under the bus, however, because he frames it as something he saw in a vision, rather than a secret that charlie has been keeping alone. he knows that it'll take all of them combined to keep charlie from doing something incredibly stupid. alas...

at the hospital, charlie is all questions at first. he wants to know what's happened, how the visions have progressed, but the longer he looks at jeff, the longer the silence lasts, the clearer it becomes that things are so fucking wrong. jeff isn't seeing him, isn't hearing him; he's stuck in his vision. he's visibly shattered when he realises that despite being awake, jeff is barely in the room with them. it's impossible for him to accept the version of his little brother in front of him. he can't leave him like this.

jeff's condition cracks something in charlie. usually he's the first to offer solutions, to keep the ball rolling and make sure they have a goal. but he can't do that. alan's trying to be optimistic, asking about the drug, putting his faith in charlie. but charlie knows they're not close. not close enough to help jeff. he can't even stand and face them - he sits, barely looking at them.

every second that charlie spends listening to alan talking about sacrificing himself to protect jeff and x-hunter breaks him down further. he knows that jeff would hate that and you can see the exact moment he makes his choice. charlie cannot sit idly by, letting his loved ones suffer, when there's something he can do about it, regardless of what it will cost him.

truly it was sick of them to start this sequence focusing on charlie's hands. this is the first time we've seen him be so intentional with his powers, seen him carry himself with the weight of what his touch can do (and oh, isn't that a fun and heartbreaking parallel with jeff). we also get this shot of charlie looking over jeff in his hospital bed. charlie has surely seen jeff in vulnerable positions before, but this is the first time the younger man has been truly helpless. and charlie has realised that he can help.

he hesitates, because he knows that jeff (rightly) would be pissed about him doing this. he's never used his power on jeff, because jeff explicitly asked him not to. but charlie can't ask jeff for permission right now, and he needs to act, needs to help him. so he takes jeff's power without consent.

jeff, of course, wakes up to this violation of his bodily autonomy. he's horrified by what charlie is doing - both because he's taking the choice away from jeff, but for what it'll mean for charlie. they've always talked it through before, even if charlie doesn't listen. they've been partners, equals, but charlie sacrificing himself in this moment is almost a betrayal of that. charlie is desperate to save his brother, but he forgets that jeff feels the same way. charlie is stripping them both of the chance to face this together. (but god, that shot of their hands together, clinging to each other for all the wrong reasons)

we're left with this shot of our brothers out cold, senses overwhelmed by what's just happened to them. their worlds are going to be irrevocably changed when they wake.

also shout out to jeff's bracelet on the bedside table which literally brought tears to my eyes when i spotted it.

[lkfarrout]

I need everyone to understand that Stan and Mabel are SMART. Ford and Dipper are often portrayed as the smart ones while Stan and Mabel are the "stupid twins" but here's the thing: Stan and Mabel are just as intelligent as their twins, they just care about different things.

Alex himself, in one of the episode commentaries (Little Dipper, I believe) says that Mabel is just as smart, if not smarter than Dipper, and could beat him at chess if she wanted to. But she cares more about playing pretend with the cute horses instead.

Mabel is also a genuis when it comes to crafting. If you've never done something like knitting before, you have no idea how hard it is and how impressive it is for Mabel to make all the sweaters and things that she does. Maybe not all her sweaters are handmade, but the Waddles sweater and Goodbye Stan sweater are crazy impressive on their own. There's also Wax Stan, all the puppets, and many other examples. Those types of things take a lot of planning, math, practice, and expertise.

Stan is portrayed as being lazy and dumb in high school because he copies off of Ford in class and has a very lame science fair project compared to Ford, but Stan shows ambition in other areas during that time of his life.

For one, he builds what we can assume to be a sea-worthy vessel out of basically scraps of old wood ("Tony Stark was able to build this in a cave! With a box of scraps!"). I personally don't know anyone - much less a teenager - who could do that, especially in a time before youtube. And while Ford definitely did help Stan with the boat, we can tell by their feelings about it that Stan really did put in most of the work and care.

Another example, and a more subtle one, is that Stan was able to save up and purchase a nice, new (7 or 8 years old at the most) convertible catillac by the age of seventeen. He probably spent a lot of time working outside of school to accomplish that, while Ford was more focused on work inside of school. It's highly doubtful that Filbrick would have bought the car for Stan. Stan was highly ambitious during this time in his life, just like Ford was, but in different areas.

In the Land Before Swine commentary, Stan talks about working on the portal and says he had to learn "high school math". He really thought that what he was doing all that time was high school level math when really, it was probably closer to masters-level theoretical physics. This tells me that he probably didn't struggle with the math parts all that much, and because it wasn't super hard for him, he assumed it must have been high school level because he's far too dumb to do anything harder than that. Yes, it still took him 30 years, but that's mostly due to him not having access to all the blueprints that Bill helped Ford create.

All in all, I believe that Stan and Mabel are just as smart as their twins, but it isn't picked up on because the areas that they like to focus on are seen as silly and girly (in Mabel's case) or unprofitable and a waste of time (in Stan's case). In constrast, Dipper's intellectual efforts of solving mysteries, cracking codes, and doing things like converting a CD into a record (impressive!) further the plot of the show and are thus seen as more important. Just like how Ford's academic efforts are seen as profitable and thus more worthy of praise.

I'm of course not saying that Stan and Mabel are better than Dipper and Ford in any way - all the characters have their strengths and weaknesses and I love that about them. I love all four of the Pines Twins so much - they all have so much to offer and are all so smart. I really love this show and they way it creates depth with the characters, and I love analyzing them and writing commentary on them.

[mocchiixxx]

Love or Legacy Series| #7 : Unwritten Melodies

(Lee Jihoon (Woozi) x Reader)

Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama, Idol AU

⚠️ WARNING: This is story is purely work of fiction. It does not reflect real-life events or SEVENTEEN in any way. This episode contains heavy angst, emotional distress, and themes of heartbreak and sacrifice. Reader discretion is advised. Please take care of yourself while reading.

Summary: When Jihoon's relationship is exposed, the backlash is brutal. Fans turn against him, and the company offers him a choice—his love or his career. Forced to make the ultimate sacrifice, Jihoon chooses to protect you the only way he knows how. But when the dust settles and he’s left alone with his music, he realizes too late—some songs are never meant to be finished.

Jihoon had never been the type to believe in fate.

He believed in hard work, in long nights spent inside a studio, in melodies built from countless revisions. Love was something that happened in the spaces between, accidental, unplanned, and far too fragile for the life he lived.

But then you happened.

And for the first time, Jihoon found himself composing songs with a name hidden in every lyric.

For the first time, he wanted to believe that love was something he could have.

Until the world reminded him that idols weren’t meant to love.

And that love, no matter how deep, could never survive under a spotlight.

It started with a rumor.

A blurry photo of two figures walking too close, an analysis of matching accessories, a thread speculating every moment he had slipped up.

Then came the hate.

'He lied to us.' 'If he really loved his fans, he wouldn’t be dating.''He was caught wearing a matching bracelets as her' 'This is so disappointing. I can’t support him anymore.'

And the worst...

'Bet she was in this for fame and money.'

'She’s ruining his career.'

You became the villain overnight.

They dug into your life, pulled apart every post, every interaction, twisted everything until you became a parasite, someone who had latched onto him for fame.

The messages flooded in; threats, insults, strangers demanding that you disappear. Your name trended for all the wrong reasons. The places you once found comfort in became suffocating.

And Jihoon saw it all.

He saw the pain in your eyes when you read the comments. He saw the way you hesitated before stepping outside, as if the world had turned into something dangerous. He saw how you tried to hide it, tried to smile and tell him it would pass.

But it wouldn’t.

And that’s why he had to end it. The company didn't have to step in because he already know what's has to be done.

You met him in his studio that night, the place that had always been yours.

But something was different.

Jihoon was standing in the middle of the room, hands clenched into fists, eyes dark with something unreadable. The air was thick with words unsaid.

You stepped forward, heart pounding. “Jihoon, what’s going on?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked past you, as if memorizing the moment before shattering it.

Then he exhaled sharply. “We need to break up.”

The words hit harder than any hateful comment ever could.

Your breath caught. “No.”

His jaw tightened. “It’s the only way.”

“No, it’s not.” You shook your head, voice trembling. “We can get through this. You don’t have to—”

“I do.”

You took a step toward him. “Jihoon, we can figure this out. We always do.”

Not this time.Not when loving him meant ruining you.

“I won’t let them destroy you.” His voice wavered, and he hated himself for it.

“You don’t deserve this.” Tears slipped down your cheeks.

“Then don’t do this. Please.” you begged weakly.

“I already made up my mind. All this happening was making my head hurts.” he spoke in a cold voice. “I'm getting annoyed by all of it.” his voiced is like a dagger thrown straight to your heart.

For the first time since he met you, Jihoon turned his back on you. Because if he looked at you any longer, he would break.

There was no hesitation in his voice. Just a quiet finality that made your chest ache.

Your fingers curled into your sleeves. “Jihoon, please don’t do this.”

His eyes finally met yours. And for a second, you saw the truth, saw the war raging inside him, the love he was trying to bury under the weight of the choice he had to make.

Then he looked away.

“It was never supposed to be serious.”

The world tilted. An audible surprised gasp leave your lips at that.

“What?” Your voice barely came out.

“This. Us.” His words were precise, each syllable cutting deeper. “It was just… a distraction.”

A lie.

A cruel, calculated lie.

Your throat burned. “You don’t mean that.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

It did. It mattered more than anything.

You wanted to scream at him, shake him, make him admit that he was doing this to protect you. But you also knew Jihoon, he knew that when he decided something, there was no changing his mind.

So you took a breath, forcing yourself to stay steady.

“Okay,” you whispered.

His expression didn’t change, but his hands trembled at his sides.

You stepped back, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I hope… your career is worth it.”

Then you turned and walked away.

And Jihoon let you go.

The next morning, the official statement was released.

'We regret to inform you that Lee Jihoon (Woozi) was involved in a personal matter that has caused distress among fans. After careful discussion, both parties have decided to part ways, acknowledging that certain relationships can interfere with professional obligations. Moving forward, we ask for fans’ continued support as Woozi's dedicates himself fully to his career.'

No mention of love. No acknowledgment of the pain. Just a cold, clinical dismissal of everything you had been to each other.

And just like that, the storm passed.

The fans forgave him. His name cleared. The world moved on.

But Jihoon didn’t.

He drowned himself in work, filled his days with schedules, filled his nights with unfinished songs. He convinced himself it was for the best.

But then he sat in his studio, staring at the empty chair across from him, fingers frozen above the piano keys.

And for the first time in his life...

Lee Jihoon had nothing left to write.

[kabr0ztrousers]

Timid incubus dude who was raised by humans is in for a rude awakening when an experienced incubus abducts him from his college campus and shows him the very monster he is inside! The incubus that grew up thinking he was entirely human refuses the truth, but the experienced one won't take no for an answer. He ties his new protege to his bed and has his fun with him >:) he'll learn to love it.

Its extra fun when the timid guy discovers that their kind can change their dick size and cum amount at will.

Kabr0z Writes episode 64: Inheritance

Find the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: giving fellatio; death mention; drugs mention; alcohol use; transformation;

A/N: I'm gonna localise this a little to the UK, because that's just a little better for my head 😁 So when you see references to uni, just know it's the same phase of higher education.

At least freshers are still freshers

##########################################

Sunday evening. So ends Freshers week. What for most students is the deadline-free week of house parties, heavy drinking and mild debauchery, you spent mostly indoors. You'd made a couple of friends, and did go to one party even if you left early, but overall it was quiet and almost solitary.

It sucks.

You'd planned on maybe hitting one of the local student bars, or even seeing if you could pick someone up at a party one of your societies hosted. Hell, you'd even installed a dating app to find an anonymous cock to suck. The problem is any time you started trying to make progress, your nerve abandoned you and you gave up. You sighed, sitting on your bed and opening your laptop, another evening spent with your dick in your hand. Who knows, when lectures start tomorrow you might find something, or at least someone who could be a bad enough influence on you that you follow through on your fantasies...

Another sigh. You've depressed yourself now. You can't even muster the will to fuck yourself, let alone try and convince anyone else to fuck you. You opened your Steam account and shared at your library, searching for that perfect game that would take your mind off things.

You had a friend request.

Not unusual, you'd given your Steam name to a lot of people over the last 7 days, but you thought they'd all added you already. You shrugged and accepted.

A message.

"Come to the SU"

Normally you'd ignore that, but...

You were already dressed, and you were just bemoaning how you didn't do anything this last week, and there is normally something going on there... Fuck it. You tucked your semi-hard cock back into your jeans, zipped yourself up and slipped on some trainers. Before you could say "be right there" you were halfway across campus, bound for adventure.

The Students Union was possibly the newest building on campus, glass-fronted, chic exposed steel members, with the cheapest bar in town clinging onto the side of it. You joined the line of students waiting to get in, mostly first years, but with some second and third years in the mix, chatting amongst established groups. You stood alone, the balmy duck air on your bare forearms. You weren't the only one in jeans and a band tee, but '80s heavy metal sure isn't the zeitgeist here.

Your phone buzzed, a message from an unknown number "come to the back door"

You raised an eyebrow. You hadn't given your number away, but someone has it. You stepped out of line and started walking around the building. The back door was ajar, a shaft of light in the settling gloom. A look left, right, you stepped in.

Heat hit you. You screwed your eyes against the gust. Dry enough to make your hair frizz and... Sulphurous? You opened your eyes carefully. They were acclimatising to the wind easily. You weren't even sweating.

You were in an office. Not the back of a bar. You could see out of windows overlooking a cityscape in varying tones of Martian dust, rusty and dull.

"Got my messages then? Good."

You looked to your right, against one of the two walls not completely glazed was a drinks cabinet, and a tall thin man in a tailored pinstripe suit with slick back hair pouring amber liquid into two glasses. "Brandy?"

You nodded. The hand that preferred the glass was long-fingered, each one sporting an inch-long razor-sharp nail. You looked at the besuited man, his too-angular face, his black-on-black eyes, his small chrome horns.

"You're a demon" you said, almost to yourself

The demon smiled, "As are you. Though your father didn't want you to know until you were ready. Your twentieth birthday."

You took the glass, setting it carefully down on a coaster as the demon continued "He was discorporated to a permanent end recently, just before your creation actually. I am Ezekiel Harkens of Harkens, Harkness, Darkness and Sphinx. For the past few millennia we've been your family's solicitors, and now it is my bittersweet duty to advise you that you are in fact Baron Agrastax of the black runes. Not technically a laughing mourner, but close enough seeing as you never met your birth parents."

Your mouth gaped as the demon in front of you babbled legalese at you "There's a mistake, my parents are Bill and Martha, they're alive and well, up in Southampton! I'm not a demon, not even a little bit"

Ezekiel handed you a letter and a black iron letter opener. You looked at him as he regarded you, opening the letter. The envelope was empty. "What?"

"That's your proof there, were you a human, a cambion, or even just not the true heir that dagger would be buried in your heart right now."

You still didn't believe it. Demons lie, that's what they do. You're not religious, but you know that.

"You're early anyway. I'm eighteen."

He looked at you "No, you'd been around for two years before we placed you into a stillbirth. Martha lost the baby at eight months, and begged anyone who would listen for a miracle. We obliged. Here's your body now." He passed you a mirror. A young man who looked just like you was lay on the floor behind a bar, a paramedic doing half-hearted CPR as his partner tried to comfort a sobbing girl wrapped in a mylar blanket "She sold her soul to have her baby boy, she didn't say for how long."

The mirror blackened, turning to ash in your hands, swept away by the draft. You should be sad, shouldn't you? You swept your hand through your hair. You felt a pair of horns. "I'm a demon?"

"Yes," he was sat behind his desk now, sipping his brandy "technically an incubus like your father, though that's just taxonomy, the noble title is what matters here."

So you're not just a demon, you're a sex demon? That wasn't on your bingo card.

"Now, there's just one stipulation on the will that I really do need to handle with you" The demon finished his drink, motioning for you to do the same "I need to make sure you're capable of adequately discharging your duties as a minor Baron of Hell"

You swallowed your drink in a single swig. You wished you hadn't, it was good brandy "And what kind of duties would I have?"

"That's the beauty of it" the demon purred, a foxlike grin splitting his features, wider than a human could grin, revealing far too many teeth "Demons of your station have very few duties. You need to remain fighting fit just in case the Blessed come down to try and murder us all, but beyond that it's mostly just about throwing fantastic parties. Of course, when I say parties..."

He was behind you now

"I mean orgies"

He grabbed the hem of your shirt and threw it over your head. You stood, and your jeans stayed where they were, disrobing you in moments as the lawyer in front of you opened his trousers with a gesture.

You paused. As much as it's kinda fucked up to get railed by a demonic lawyer you've literally just met, this felt right. Like a virtuoso approaching a piano, a prodigy picking up a violin. Either that, or the roofies they have in Hell are off the charts.

You took Ezekiel's hands, taking them off his crotch as you knelt in front of him

"I've wanted to do this for years, now fuck my face" you smiled up at him "your Baron commands you"

Ezekiel grinned, grabbing your hair in both hands, "Gladly, my Lord" he tugged your hair a little, taking advantage of your gasp of surprise to stuff his semi-hard cock in your mouth.

You licked and sucked that cock like there was no tomorrow. It tasted like cinnamon and allspice in your mouth, warming and sweet. Ezekiel kept pulling on your hair as you bobbed on the rapidly hardening phallus, varying angle and how hard you sucked on it, hearing what made him groan the loudest, what made the fists clench your hair harder. It hurt a little, but that was part of the fun.

Your mind flickered, thinking a moment about how some people would get their tongues bifurcated to better do this kind of thing. You found yourself wishing you had that. Something felt strange in your mouth, a pressure inside your tongue. Ezekiel pulled his cock out of your mouth long enough for you to touch it. Two tips met your fingers, soft and semi-rough, human, but better.

You stuck it out, wrapping the twin tips of your tongue around the head of Ezekiel's cock and drawing it back in. Two was better than one, you used your new tongue to its fullest, rubbing it over the sensitive parts of his cock as he moaned and buried himself balls-deep into your throat. His cum tasted sweet, and salty, and very alcoholic. You could feel it burning down your throat like vodka, warming you when it hit your stomach in a sticky glob.

You pulled away, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. Wetness coated your thigh where thin precum had leaked out of your cock. Your smiled up at Ezekiel "How'd I do?"

He smiled back, one cruel-clawed hand squeezed your face "We're not done yet, let's try that tight asshole next"

He lifted you up, bending you over his desk and pressing his cock between your asscheeks, the tip poised at the hole. You imagined yourself lubing up your ass, and felt as a warm wetness spread around your hole, letting him slide into you.

His claws dug into your hips, not drawing blood, but enough you could feel each and every point as they dug into your soft skin. He fucked like a jackhammer, fast and deep, never breaking rhythm. Your cock was leaking more and more, a steady stream of pre flowing from your tip as you went knock-kneed from the cock rubbing mercilessly against your prostate. He squeezed you, those claws digging in a little more. You threw your head back as your soft cock leaked out cum, thick and flowing in a long rope from the tip of your cock. Ezekiel held his hand under the flowing cum-tap and caught some, bringing it up to your mouth. You licked it off him, tasting your own seed

"You don't ever have to stop leaking if you don't want. It's a little gauche, but you're nobility, it'll catch on"

That sounds like a fashion statement you can pioneer. You focused on the feeling of the cum flowing from you, willing it to intensify, to keep going. It felt good. Your balls stopped aching and descended to their normal resting position, but still a thin stream of white fluid flowed down from you. It wasn't as intense as cumming from being fucked up the ass, but it's a nice buzz

Ezekiel pulled you into him, burying himself in you as he grabbed your cock, jerking it off as he fucked you in small intensely deep movements. Your cum stream thickened and sprayed as he brought you off a third time. Your hole clenched around him as he moaned and you felt hot cum filling you from behind.

"Can I change anything else?" You gasped, you should be spent but you felt like you could keep going forever

"You're made of belief and willpower, to you, physics is a suggestion. Right now, long nails and metal bones are in vogue, but you can be anything you can envision"

You focused on your cock, willing it to grow large and flared, the cum thickening as your plumbing got wider, as your balls swelled up with ever more virile seed

"Bend over. It's my turn"

Being Baron was going to be great.

#####################################

Well, I dozed off before publishing this one so it's going up in the morning. Regular scheduled programming resumes this evening

[lachesismoonmist]

I've Been Watching You - Chp 7

On the Bucket List

Rating: Mature. Minors dni

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook / Reader

Words: Total: 73k

Status: Complete. 7 out of 26

Story Summary: There's a hot new guy in the gym. You can't keep your eyes off him, and it seems he can't keep his off you either. What starts out as Friends-with-Benefits turns into something a lot more complicated as your past comes back to haunt you and you find out your best friend's long-kept secret.

Originally posted on AO3

MY MASTERLIST

Chapter 7: On the Bucket List

Chapter Summary: JK and the MC continue to spend time together, and conversations start to creep towards dangerous territory, which the MC wants to avoid. The MC gets to strike one item off her bucket list. Sexy times ahead!

Author's Note: I'm back! This chapter took a while, because it was one of those where a lot had to be covered, and was before another peak in the story. Longest chapter so far. Also, there's smut! The smut is a different kind again - not sure if you guys noticed, but every smutty scene is slightly different. I hope it doesn't disappoint! JK and the MC spend some quality time together. Paintball might seem a little clichéd (think '10 Things I Hate About You' starring Julia Stiles and the late Heath Ledger), but I've always wanted to try it but never got around to it. There's also a Star Wars reference (I'm a total fan). Darth Vader was the ultimate badass in Episodes IV, V and VI. Tall, dark and ... Well he was wearing a mask most of the time, but he was quite handsome in a Episodes I, II and III. Are you still with me? Heh heh heh. Also, a shout out to @azurefangirl. She's one of my inspirations - I've been reading all her stories, enough times that I could convince myself that maybe I could write one too.

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

It was shoulders and back day. After doing lat pull-downs, I was at the far end of the gym doing the landmine press. Jimin came strolling over. “What did you do over your long weekend? Jiho left yesterday right?"

“Yup. After the club that night, Jiho only came back after breakfast. He said he needed to crash, and had overdosed on chocolate. We went out for a late lunch, then I sent him to the train station around 5pm. I came to the gym in the morning, but didn’t see you. Soo….. what happened to your booty call?”

“When I got to his apartment, he’d just showered. He came to the door looking like sex on legs. He got all protective too when I told him about Hajoon.” I added rolling my eyes. “Then he spent the rest of the night making sure I didn’t have any bruises anywhere. Hmm, actually, he made it his mission to give me bruises.” I pulled aside the neck of my tee shirt to show Jimin the enormous hickey.

“Oh my god! That must be the biggest hickey I’ve ever seen!” “I know right? And I’ve a matching one on my boob!” I complained. Jimin burst out laughing. “No way, he gave you one on your boob?” he cackled. “He’s a biter, huh? Is he good with his tongue?”

“Well, he did eat me out on his kitchen counter before bringing me to the bedroom. And last evening we christened my couch”.

“At last!” Jimin hooted. “I thought that couch was going to die a virgin. Wait, you went over to his place after the club, then last evening you christened your couch? Did you spend all day yesterday together?”

“No, not exactly. We fell asleep at his place after the club, but I left around 4am.”

Jimin sighed “Y/N, it’s been four years. Don’t you think you need to move past this?”

“I don’t know, Jiminie. I mean, Jungkook makes me feel safe, like he wouldn't hurt me. That’s how I managed to fall asleep at his place after the club. He was so sweet. He cleaned me up again, then just held me. But I’m scared, Jiminie. I don’t think I’ll survive getting my heart ripped out of my chest again”.

“Y/N, anyone with eyes can see the attraction and the chemistry between you two! You look like you fit together, even more so than with Nam….”

“Don’t, Jiminie”, I put my hand on Jimin’s chest “Don’t say his name”. Jimin grabs my hand with his, cradling it to his chest as he says gently “Y/N, you have so much love to give. You’re smart and funny, you deserve to be happy. You deserve more than just casual hook-ups, even if the sex is mind-blowing.” Jimin sighed again. “Speaking of mind-blowing sex, where is Loverboy this morning?”

“Oh, he had a wedding shoot. At the beach, no less. He said it would run well into the afternoon. I’m going over to Artemis anyway. Have to look in on Nuri. Oh, and guess what, yesterday Ginger came out to the front of the clinic and rubbed herself all over Jungkook!”

“That slut! She only ever hisses at me or runs away…. waaaaiiit….. did you say Jungkook?”

“Yup”, I replied, picking up my towel and water bottle.

“You brought Loverboy to the clinic?!? You’ve never brought anyone to the clinic! Well, except me of course.”

“Yeah, I felt bad about leaving in the middle of the night, and he’s obviously an animal-person. Besides, he brought his dog Bam there for the yearly check-up two weeks ago, so it’s not like it was his first time there.”

Jimin held up his hand up, “You don’t have to explain, Honey. I get it. I told you right, this time it’s different.”

Just then, I felt my phone buzz in my pocket.

[Hot Gym JK] Hey Sweetness, the photo shoot got cut short. What are you doing later after lunch?

[Sexy Vet] Oh! What happened to the shoot? I'll be at the clinic, but I'm free after 3pm.

[Hot Gym JK] Awesome. I’ll swing by the clinic to pick you up then. Tell you the story about the shoot later.

[Sexy Vet] Where are we going?

[Hot Gym JK] It’s a surprise. Wear comfortable shoes and slacks or berms.

[Sexy Vet] Ok, now you’ve got me intrigued. Give me a hint!’

[Hot Gym JK] And spoil the surprise? Nope. You’ll just have to wait to find out. See you at 3pm, Sweetness.

[Sexy Vet] Ok. C u.

Jimin was watching my face closely. “That HAD to be Loverboy. You should see the way you’re smiling right now”.

“Nonsense! This is my normal look.”

“And I’m the queen of England. Face it Y/N, there’s something between you and Jungkook. You can deny it all you want.”

I smiled, thinking about him.

“See! You didn’t even try to deny it!”

“Whatever,” I huffed.

“So you seeing him today I take it?”

“Yeah, he said he’d pick me up from the clinic. Told me to wear comfortable shoes and said it was a surprise.”

“Well, I guess that means you’re not going to do ballroom dancing.“

"Probably not," I laughed. "Gotta go Jiminie. Catch you later k”.

“Go, go, go. Say 'Hi' to Loverboy for me”.

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

Right on the dot at 3pm, Jungkook turned into the carpark in front of the clinic. I was already sitting on the bench outside the clinic, nursing a peppermint mocha, watching two kids playing with the Golden Retriever that had just been discharged today. Jungkook pulled up beside me and opened the passenger side door “Hop in, Sweetness”. I got in and showed him the second cup I was holding.

“I wasn’t sure how you like your coffee, so I just got you a Flat White, no sugar. I’ve got some sugar packets in my bag if you want some.”

“Actually I’m more a tea drinker, but a Flat White no sugar is fine”. He reached over to squeeze my knee.

“So what happened with the photo shoot?”

“The bride-to-be didn’t really want a photo session on the beach saying she hates the sand, but the groom-to-be had pressurized her into it. Today she just couldn’t bring herself to do it and broke down in tears. I think it’s the wedding stress.”

“Yikes! Was it a deal-breaker?”

“Naah. The groom-to-be panicked and told his fiancé he’d shoot the photos anywhere she wanted. She said she’d wanted to do it in the flower gardens on the other side of town, and but they are closed today. She’s a florist, so having flowers in the shoot was actually quite a big deal to her. In the end we went to her shop and took some nice but tight shots there. We picked another day for the gardens shoot, but they felt bad about the whole thing, so they paid us for half-a-day’s work and bought us lunch”.

“Ok, so everything’s fine then. Can you imagine what they’d tell their grandkids? ‘Your grandma almost didn’t marry me because I wanted our wedding photos taken at the beach.”

“Yup, everything’s fine, and thanks to them I get to spend my afternoon with my favorite vet”. He grinned at me as we pulled into the parking lot of what looked like a refurbished warehouse. ‘Got You in My Sights’ was spray painted on the front wall, along with a impressive mural running the length of the long building. I saw in smaller print ‘Paintball. Lasertag. Air Rifle Shooting’.

“You brought me here to shoot me?!?” I asked disbelievingly.

“Shoot AT you. Paintballs, that is. I was told we have the whole place to ourselves today.”

Two white jumpsuits, goggles, helmets and paint guns loaded later, I found myself hiding behind a bale of hay, hoping to catch Jungkook unawares. He hadn’t seen me duck down into this small trench so this was my best shot. I saw him creeping behind some trees, unaware that I was behind him. I lined up my sights, then pulled the trigger. A big yellow blob appeared on his jumpsuit, right in the middle of his back. He spun around, eyes wide open in shock. “You drew first blood! I’m coming for you!” he shouted and started sprinting towards me.

Now, the sight of a 1.78m tall man, all geared up, carrying a loaded weapon running towards you is downright terrifying. I yelped and sprung up, legs pumping to put as much distance as I could between me and Jungkook. I found a waist-high wall made of sandbags, leapt over it and turned towards my pursuer. He was running across open ground, so I had the upper hand. I fired at least 5 shots at him, but only had the satisfaction of seeing one hit him on the shoulder. That didn’t stop him though, he just kept coming. I jumped up away from the wall and continued running. This time, I felt the paint hit. Two on the back, one near my knee and one hit my helmet. I went sprawling, falling into a dip behind a slight rise. I drew my knees in and just sat there, trying to catch my breath. Trying to listen out for foot falls. The plan was to wait till Jungkook was almost upon me, fire one to the chest then run.

Of course that didn’t happen. I felt a shadow fall over me, and looked up to see Jungkook standing over me, smiling smugly. He held his hand out to me.

He made deep breathing sounds. “Join me, and together, we will rule the galaxy” he said in fake boomy voice.

“You did not just quote Darth Vader!” I burst out laughing.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing.”

I couldn’t take it. I sat down on the ground laughing at Jungkook’s Darth Vader impressions. “Stop! Stop!”

He grinned and looked at my jumpsuit, then back at his jumpsuit. Mine was covered in green, whilst his had just one yellow spot on his shoulder, and the other one on his back. “How did you only manage to hit me only once when I ran towards you? I was completely in the open on purpose! ”

“I told you first person shooter games aren’t my thing, right?” I cried as I got to my feet. “I can’t shoot while moving, and it looks like I can’t even shoot while staying still! That first shot I got on you was a pure fluke.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t put my life in your hands if we were in a gun fight.”

“Rude!” I shouted, then shot him in the chest at point blank and ran away cackling.

“OW! Come here you!” Jungkook shouted, running after me. After what felt like an eternity of running and hiding, Jungkook finally called time. I got shot at least half a dozen more times, while I didn’t land a single shot.

When we removed all our gear, our hair was plastered to our heads with sweat. I looked down, and realized my white cotton blouse was stuck to my skin, and a bit see-through. Thankfully I was wearing my nice, lacy white set. Jungkook’s eyes widened, and he suddenly leaned over and kissed me hard on the lips. I kissed him back, our tongues dancing.

I put my hand on his chest but he hissed and pulled back. “You know, shooting someone at point blank will cause bruising right?” he complained as he slowly lifted his tee shirt. There, right in the center of his chest was a big bruise.

I didn’t say anything. I was so transfixed by his abs, I just stood there, blinking slowly.

“Helloooo, earth to Y/N?” He waved a hand in front of my face.

I blinked twice. “You were saying?”

“You gave me a big bruise by shooting me at point blank range.”

“Ah, now we’re even. Two for two. Told you I’d claim the other half of my payment”.

“How can you even equate a hickey to paintball injury?!? One is given in pleasure, the other is an injury!“

“Tomay-toes, tomar-toes. Now we really both match – one on the neck, one on the chest”. I gave him a double thumbs-up and a wink. He rolled his eyes.

“You hungry? Wanna go grab some food and head back to my place?”

“Sure,” I said, fanning my blouse in an attempt to unstick it and dry out a little. “Any craving?”

“How about Thai food? ‘Buy My Thai’ is on the way.”

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

“Mmm…. This Pad Thai is soooo good!” I closed my eyes after slurping my noodles and chewed happily.

“Right? The place is co-owned by a couple. The wife is Thai. I did a photo shoot for them about 4 months ago for their new menu. Now I get extra shrimp in my Tom Yam Goong.”

I smiled and nodded, too busy chewing to reply. “So you don’t have a pet now?” Jungkook asked.

“No, no time for one. I don’t go to the clinic everyday, but when I do I spend long hours there. Besides, all the patients are like my surrogate fur kids. Where’s Bam? You mentioned him but he doesn’t live here with you.”

“Bam is at my parent’s. I just moved back to the city about 10 months ago after spending a few years abroad. Bam stayed with my parents while I was away. Been thinking of bringing Bam over to my place. What do you think? I’d love to have your professional opinion on it.”

“Well, you do have nice grounds here, good for walks. Your apartment is large enough for a Doberman. Is he potty-trained? I mean trained to use a tray?” Jungkook nodded. “That’s good, so he can relieve himself even when you’re not at home. I’d suggest getting some rugs for the floors that are slippery. Sliding on slippery floors may lead to increased risk of hip or elbow dysplasia.” Jungkook nodded in understanding, looking around at his floors. “Another thing is, are you going to be away a lot? If he gets more attention and company at your parent’s, you may want to think about leaving him there. But you can bring him over if you’re going to be home for a stretch.”

Jungkook started collecting the empty cartons and bowls. “I will have to travel a little on and off, but for the most part I’ll be around. Thanks for the advice though. I’ll just bring Bam over here if I’m going to be around for him.” Jungkook smiled, took my hand and squeezed it.

“Come, I wanna show you something”. He led me to his bedroom, and pushed open the double glass doors I’d seen the last time I was here. The balcony outside had a set of comfy-looking outdoor furniture – a small low table and two chairs that were large enough to sit two. A little tealight holder on the small table had a lit tealight in it, giving off the smell of geraniums. I walked over to the railing and looked out over city.

“This is such a gorgeous view.”

“Yes, it is” Jungkook said, looking at me, stroking my arm. He pulled me against him, my back to his front and whispered in my ear “Look up.” I gasped when I did. The night sky looked like a deep velvet canvas, with stars scattered all over.

“Wow”, I said quietly. “You can’t see the stars from the city. I’d forgotten how beautiful the night sky can be”.

“This is one of the reasons I fell in love with this place. I often come and sit out here when I’ve had a rough day. The night sky reminds me that I’m just a little speck in the big scheme of things. Wait here”, he squeezed me, then walked back into his bedroom. I continued gazing up when he came back with a huge grey woolen blanket and wrapped me in it.

“Come have a seat, I'll go make us some tea.” I settled into the large chair at the end of the balcony. I looked around. Because of the shape of the apartment building, I couldn’t see any of the neighbor's homes. It was just a clear view of the surrounding area and the city skyline. Breathtaking.

Jungkook came back not long later with a small pot and two tea cups on a tray. The tea smelled heavenly. “This is jasmine tea with natural rose oil” he explained as sat down next to me and proceeded to pour tea into both cups. “It’s great after you've had oily food.” I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and savoring the fragrance. I took a tentative sip.

“Wow!" I closed my eyes and took an extra deep breath.  A few more sips later, I opened my eyes to see Jungkook staring at me over the rim of his teacup. "This might be the best tea I’ve ever smelled or tasted! Makes me wanna bathe in it”.

“Well, I do have good taste” he smiled, then leaned closer to me “speaking of good taste….” He took my cup from me and put it down on the table. His warm lips found mine. His hand wound into my hair, holding my head in place, angling it to kiss me deeper. He kissed me slowly, but no less hungrily as he explored my mouth. His hand travelled down, squeezing my breasts before moving his hands to my waist, shifting me so that I was facing him, straddling his lap. He kissed his way down my neck and pressed gentle kisses to the hickey he gave me. His hands reached for the bottom of my white blouse and he pulled it up and over my head.

“I saw the white lace earlier after paintball. I’ve been dying to see it up close” He ran his finger down the shoulder strap, over the tops of the cups, making me shiver. Then he suddenly pulled down the cup, freeing my breast. He closed his lips over my hardening nipple, sucking so hard I let out a whine. He reached up and freed the other breast, shifting his attention to it. “Your breasts look so sexy like this, held up by your bra.”

“We’re out in the open, Jungkook. Someone might see.” I said worriedly, looking around.

“No one can see us while we’re here. But if it makes you feel better..." he reached past me to pull up the large grey blanket and draped it on my shoulders. He reached back then and pulled his t-shirt off in one smooth move. As always, I was mesmerized by his bulging arm muscles, the swell of his pectoral muscles, the ridges of his abs and Adonis belt. I ran my hands over his stomach and chest, then leaned forward to kiss him, as I pawed at the buttons of his cargo shorts. Then I reached into his boxers and freed his hard cock, giving it a few pumps. Jungkook moaned, then pushed his shorts and boxers off his hips so that they rested near his knees. I reached down and pushed them the rest of the way off his legs.

His hands went to the button of my slacks, pulled down the zip slowly. He brushed his fingers against my white lacy panties, then growled. "I wanna see”.

He lifted me off his lap and made me stand between his legs. He spun me around to face away from him and slid my slacks past my hips. They fell to the floor. “Your ass looks terrific in white lace” he purred, rubbing both ass cheeks with his hands. He slipped his fingers in and pulled the lace down, then helped me step out of it. I pulled me towards him to face him again. He looked divine – bare chest heaving, muscles all on display, cock standing erect. The ache between my legs grew stronger. I sat on his lap, shuffling forward till I could rub my core on his cock.

“So wet for me” he groaned, as he massaged my breasts, thumbs rubbing over my nipples. I lifted myself up slightly, then impaled myself on his cock. He moaned loudly, burying his face between my breasts. “Move please,” he choked out, his arms crushing me to him like a vise. My breasts rubbed up and down on his chest as I put my knees on the seat of the chair for leverage to take him in again and again. He held my hips in a crushing grip as he helped move me up and down. By now the large grey blanket had fallen onto the ground but neither of us cared. It was just him in his naked glory, me with my ass bare and my breasts trussed up in my bra. He pressed his thumb onto my clit, moving it in time to when our bodies closed the gap, watching how my pussy sucked him in.

“Harder, Jungkook, harder” I panted.

He applied more pressure with his thumb and my world exploded. I squirted onto his lap as he came, moaning my name.

We sat like that for a while, our arms around each other, coming down from our highs, till our breathing evened out. I lifted myself slowly off him, feeling him slide out. I rested on his lap, not wanted to separate just yet. He stroked my back lazily while nuzzling my neck with his lips.

“You know, having sex under the stars, out in the open has always been on my bucket list.”

“And you’ve never found anyone to do it with?” Jungkook asked curiously. I shook my head, as he stood up, carrying me with him.  I buried my face in his chest to avoid answering his question.  I inhaled deeply.  He smelled of his cologne, but underneath that was a very manly smell, of sweat and sex.  

“Let’s get you cleaned up” as he walked to the bathroom. He set my down gently on his marble counter, took a wash cloth and wiped our mess from the insides of my thighs and his crotch. He also wiped my breasts slowly, then pulled the cups back up. He kissed me, then went to wash the towel in the sink.

“I wanted to tell you, I have to leave tomorrow morning for a magazine photo shoot for a week. In Paris. The following week there will be a photo exhibition cum charity ball here in the Grand Ballroom at Four Seasons. I’m one of three photographers who have been invited to take photos for the exhibition. It’ll be great exposure, and it seems the guests move in high circles, so it’ll be a great chance to network. “

“That’s amazing! I’m so happy for you. It sure sounds like a great opportunity for you.”

“Come to the ball with me? As my plus one?” he asked earnestly, holding both my hands as he looked at me with puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t do the puppy dog eyes thing! I cannot resist it!” I cried, covering my face with my hands.

“But it’s my greatest weapon in getting what I want,” he said smugly. “Seriously though, say you’ll come with me? I’ll even get you a dress from Paris.”

“Oooh… high fashion from Paris, huh? You sure you know my size?”

“Oh, I know your size,” he said in a low voice as he claimed my lips with his again. My knees turned to jelly, along with my will.

“Ok,” I breathed when we finally separated, our foreheads resting together. "What time is your flight tomorrow?"

"It's at 6am. I’ll call you when I land. I'll be pretty busy during the day, we can talk at night, although you’ll be a few hours ahead of me," Jungkook said

“Ok, Big Boy, sounds good. I need to to go too anyways, I have a surgery early tomorrow morning.”

“Come on, I’ll drive you back to the clinic to get your car.”

We drove in a companionable silence, once again with his hand resting on my leg, this time, on my thigh. He insisted on driving back with me to my apartment building after that, and walking me up to my door. Outside my door, he kissed me till I was dizzy, and wouldn’t have stopped if not for my neighbor who had to walk past us. We both laughed after my neighbor croaked out a very awkward “Hi…” and slinked into his apartment. Jungkook held my face in his hands and kissed me on the nose, then on the lips. “Good night, Sweetness. Dream of me k?” and blew me a kiss as he walked down the stairs.

Previous (Chp6) | Next (Chp7)

Tags: @bhonbhon, @azurefangirl

[writergirlll]

Watching obx with Drew Starkey

okey. I wanted to write this for a long time, but I didn't have time, so here it is. in fact, it is completely plotless. it's just fluff so enjoy.

SUMMARY: imagine you're the girlfriend of famous actor Drew Starkey and he catches you watching Outer Banks commenting on Rafe Cameron's character because you miss Drew.

You've been dating Drew Starkey for quite some time now. You met on the set of the third season of Outer Banks, where you only played Kelce's girlfriend in one episode, but you fell in love despite that one day.

At first you just chatted, exchanged numbers, but soon you found out that Drew is very funny, so you invited him to the cafe. And soon after the first meeting, you made an official date and started dating.

You don't even remember when it all started. Maybe a year ago? Anyway, after half a year you found an apartment and moved in together. Everything was great because Drew didn't have much to do, neither did you because you hadn't been offered any part in a movie or TV show yet so you spent all your free time together.

But now that Outer Banks season 4 has started filming, Drew is almost 24/7 on set. You don't blame him because the obx cast is really great and he himself can't be blamed for how long the shoot is, but you miss him.

He gets up early in the morning when you are sleeping and comes when you are already asleep again, so you hardly see each other at all. And since it's been going on for about two and a half months now, you really miss her.

And today, is another day when you are home alone. You made some dinner and then popcorn with a drink. You arranged a blanket and pillows on the couch in front of the TV and grabbed the remote control.

You buried yourself in a blanket between the pillows, put a blanket on your lap and started playing the Outer Banks. Drew isn't home, so at least Rafe Cameron will be on TV..

The currently watched episode turned on where Singh kidnapped Kiara and Rafe appeared in the same house, with Singh locking them in the same room.

“Did you forget what you did?” Kie's voice came from the TV and you frowned.

"You shouldn't have told him that" you muttered and popped your popcorn into your mouth. You watched and listened intently as Rafe explained that he didn't want to kill Sheriff Peterkin and that it was for Ward. However, Kie didn't believe him.

"Rafe really isn't a bad person Kie" you muttered to the TV and continued to stuff yourself with popcorn. "Everything he did was for Ward and he just wants understanding" you frowned at the tv and covered yourself more with the blanket. It was warm outside, but it was cold inside the apartment.

,,So I want to be understood huh?'' came a voice from behind you and you flinched as you were startled. You quickly turned off the TV and turned around.

A smiling Drew was leaning against the door. "You startled me" you laughed and he walked over to you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean that. And sorry for being so late, we have a lot of filming. But the way I see it, you found yourself a replacement" he said, placing a kiss on your forehead and looking at the TV, where Rafe Cameron was stopped at a perfect angle.

"But you're better" you cooed and pulled his head down to yours as you kissed him.

Drew kissed back before pulling away and straightening up. "How about I change clothes and watch with you"? he asked you with a sweet smile.

You nodded quickly and he left to change. After a few minutes of waiting on the couch and admiring Rafe on TV, Drew finally showed up, changed with yet another blanket.

He sat down next to you on the couch, stretched out his legs and you rested your head on his lap. You both covered yourself with a blanket, he was stroking her hair, eating popcorn and admiring the acting of the Outer Banks cast.

[dovveri]

sun-kissed

bachelorette masterlist - part 1 • part 2 • part 3 • part 5 • part 6 • part 7

synopsis: an unexpected arrest deters filming for day 4 so instead, y/n and sana spend the day together. almost like a date?

warnings: mentions of child pedophilia! suggestive, cursing - i forget to tag that alot bcs its in all my fics but just assume its always there oop

w/c: 5.2k

a/n: okay this took me way longer than it should’ve to write but i think it’s maybe my favourite chapter so far… or maybe i’m soft rn 🤭 enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

could they have made any less of a scene?

the sirens have stopped but the blue and red lights continue to blaze as you stand in shock with the rest of the contestants while the cops raid the mansion.

sana had been taken away by the producers as soon as the police cars had pulled up.

when they're finally done checking the mansion, they walk out a cuffed wonsik. his head is down, refusing to look at any of you, hands behind his back as he's shoved into the back of the police car.

none of you had a clue what was going on, you were all enjoying the third rose ceremony and nothing could've predicted where this night had led you.

eventually, after the police have long driven away, the producers return with sana who looks a little shaken up. you head towards her immediately, wrapping your arms around her shoulders, but she can't seem to face you, eyes blank as she follows the producers instructions for everyone to come back into the mansion.

"sana? sana?" you're trying to get her attention, shaking her slightly.

she snaps out of it with a blink, looking up at you in confusion, "hm?"

"you okay? kinda lost you back there."

"mm yeah i just- it was just really unexpected."

"what was?"

she nods her head towards the producers who are now standing in front of the leftover contestants preparing to make an announcement.

"okay guys so we only just found this out but wonsik has been arrested on charges of owning child pornography, engaging in pedophilic acts, and sexual assault of a minor. the police have searched the house and confiscated all of his items and any incriminating evidence they could use in court. as you all know, we do conduct background checks on all contestants before they are accepted onto this show, and we apologise that this incident has been overseen. we won't be editing wonsik's arrest out of tonight's episode, but he has obviously been eliminated. we'll take tomorrow off filming to allow you all a small break and please do let us know if you have any concerns moving forward with filming."

what the actual fuck?

as soon as the producers are done with their announcement everyone is talking on top of each other, trying to figure out just what the hell happened and how this happened under everyone's noses.

"did you know?"

"holy shit i never saw that coming out of him-"

"man its always the quiet ones that are the most fucked up-"

you turn to sana in shock, feeling much like how she had looked just a little earlier. "sana?"

she's still a little distracted when she looks at you, "hmm? i'm tired y/n. let's go back home?"

you're nodding quickly, leading her away from the aftermath to the quiet cool of the outside air. you wave down your driver and quickly lead sana inside, stuttering out directions to your villa and sitting back, sneaking a glance at sana who's looking out the window with glazed eyes.

the drive back is silent save for the low hum of the engine. you're a little surprised when sana shuffles closer to you, linking her arm through yours and placing her head on your shoulder, still not saying anything.

you take her hand in yours, interlock your fingers, and lean your head on hers. the rest of the short drive is spent like this, the silence is thoughtful, but not awkward.

even as you arrive back at the house, your hands never leave each other's, you lead her towards your shared bathroom and brush your teeth side by side. only letting go of each other when you both go to start your nighttime skincare routines.

sana has a much more intricate routine than you because of her obsession with all things health-related and her need to take care of her skin well. so you finish earlier than her, mumbling a quick goodnight while she's still bent over the sink and moving past her to retire yourself to bed.

you close all the blinds, intending to have a full night's rest and wake up late tomorrow because filming was cancelled, climbing under your sheets and sighing at the feeling of soft fabric against your skin.

your eyes are slowly drifting shut when your door peeks open, and sana's slipping in, closing the door behind her, shrouding the room in darkness again. she tiptoes to the edge of your bed, lifting the cover and sliding inside, cold feet come to entangle themselves with your legs, shuffling close as you get a whiff of her night serum, the sweet, tangy smell of mandarin subtly descending upon your senses.

"this is okay right?" she's murmuring against you, you're lying face to face, eyes sleepily open while your eyes readjust to the darkness, making out the soft curl of her eyelashes and the perfect slant of her nose.

you hum against her, sliding an arm over her waist and pulling her closer, resting your foreheads together and closing your eyes comfortably.

you think she's drifted off to sleep after a few minutes, but she speaks up in a whisper, barely there, you wouldn't have heard her if you weren't almost lip to lip, "y/n?"

"hm?"

you feel the soft breath of her sigh against your lips, "i... i should've known... he- i could've put him away faster- i gave him a platform- he was on national television and oh y/n, kids the kids he took advantage of could've seen him on tv and thought-" she's slowly panicking the tone of her voice getting shakier as she spirals and allows herself to voice her thoughts out loud for the first time, "-thought that he was in the right that it was okay that there were no consequences and then i kissed him oh my god i kissed him y/n and what kinda message does that send like-"

"sana sana baby shh, shh c'mere-" you're pulling her into you, tucking her head under yours and she starts crying and shuddering, hands twisted at the collar of your shirt.

"i just- like what's worse is i actually liked him-"

"mm no no sweetie stop stop. listen no-one knew what he was okay? it's not your fault you fell for him you can't blame yourself for that. he literally came here with the intention of making you do that you were just another one of his unlucky victims okay? and look, once this gets out on the news he's not going to have that platform anymore okay? in fact he'll probably hate that he came on here because he's going to be even more infamous than if he had stayed anonymous. we can only be real and truthful going forward so that those poor kids are validated in their feelings. he's going to be put away for a long long time now and he's not gonna have the chance to pull any more of that shit okay?"

she's sniffling into your shirt, listening to you talk and soothe her. you continue whispering sweet reassurances into the night, waiting for her to calm down.

she sniffles again, finally looking up at you, eyes red and snot dribbling out of her nose, your heart aches, "can we go out tomorrow? just us, like old times."

you smile at her request, nodding and pressing a gentle kiss onto her forehead, "of course baby. we can go do whatever you want. i promise i'll be yours for the whole day."

she's smiling, thanking you softly and closing her eyes. you wait to hear the her breath slow into quiet even snores before you stop stroking her hair, just holding her against you and closing your own eyes. drifting off to sleep with the adorable mimimimi sound she lets out only when she's exhausted and sleeping well.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

the next morning the both of you wake up around 10am, a comfortable time that allowed you to sleep-in, but not so much that you'd miss out on the entire day.

some producers stop by to check in on sana and go through a small debrief of everything that's happened and what they have left to film in the show.

you can tell she's still a little on edge and wants to get away from everything as fast as possible so you politely ask the producers for time off today and to leave the both of you alone until tomorrow since no filming was happening anyway.

eventually, they're leaving and sana's throwing on casual white pants, a light cardigan on top of a knit button-up, sunnies, grabbing her prada handbag and she's ready to go.

you're lucky you have so many things at your disposal, even multiple cars in the garage to pick from as you grab a random set of keys and click unlock. spotting a white convertible respond with its headlights flashing twice and leading sana towards the car, hopping in. sana's mood has already improved greatly, bubbling with excitement as she lists off some names of a couple restaurants you could try in town for lunch. you smile at her nodding along and humming as you start the engine, pulling out of the garage and onto the valley road, turning on the radio and laughing at the way sana almost jumps out of her seat, neck craning up, eyes closing, letting the wind sprinkled with a hint of sea salt blow through her hair, breathing in a deep breath of satisfaction.

you know you're meant to keep your eyes on the road but it was empty anyway and sana looked so so beautiful. you traced the slope of her nose, down to the curve of her lips as she smiles, the sharp lines of her jaw, and the smooth plane of skin at her neck.

she's peeking an eye open at you, laughing when you realise you've been caught, her giggle high and airy. you loved her so much. and it was getting harder and harder to say that to her without it meaning something a little more.

you're pulling into town soon, she's babbling excitedly and pointing at things that interest her with the curiosity of a child, you're trying to find parking and smoothly drive into an angled spot just in front of the restaurant you had both decided on.

you're jumping out of the car and running to the other side to get her door, and she's giggling and smiling when you take her hand, pressing a sweet kiss to her knuckles, and helping her out of the car.

you enter the bustling shop hand in hand, smiling kindly at the waiter who greets you and ushers you to a table situated next to a large window, allowing a picturesque view into the bay area with a couple fishing boats coming back in after an early morning.

you continue your act of chivalry, pulling out her chair before she sits, and then walking over to take your own seat across from her.

you both glance over the menu enjoying the hum of a busy eatery.

"do you know what you want yet y/n?"

the words on the menu were quickly meshing together, lots of french and seafood terms you wouldn't be able to take a first guess at the meaning of. you pout and shake your head.

she giggles at your antics, "it's okay i'll order for us." she's waving over the same waiter who greeted you at the door, then listing off a few menu items, her french sounding poised and elegant, though you knew she had not-so-secretly spent a year obsessing over french ballet and had even taken up a few lessons herself, only to realise she was much too clumsy to continue it. she had thanked your mutual friend mina for the gracious lessons but resorted to attempting to learn french as an outlet for her obsession.

"-leave out the pickles in everything. and that'll be all thankyou."

your heart picks up a little at the small gesture. you despised anything with pickles in it, and she knew that, making sure you wouldn't have to pick out any of those sickly green slices.

you smile in thanks when the waiter leaves with your order, only to come back quickly afterwards with a bottle of chardonnay which she pours into two elegantly carved wine glasses she's brought along with her.

you raise your eyebrows at sana, questioning the alcohol, but she only sits forward, propping an elbow up on the table and leaning her head into it with a smile.

"day drinking?"

"what? i'll drink yours if you don't want it."

you roll your eyes at her affectionately, taking the glass and sipping, humming at the sweet and tangy bitterness that fills your mouth.

she copies your actions with a beam, setting her glass back down and licking her lips. you follow the action.

"is there anything else specific that you wanted to do today?" you're asking her, taking another sip from your glass.

"mm, not really. i don't mind as long as i'm with you."

"glad to know you're feeling well enough again to flirt."

"oh always with you baby. you're the only one for me."

"that's a bold faced lie and you know it."

she pouts at that, and you can't help yourself, leaning forward and pressing lightly on her bottom lip.

"stop that. put that back in there."

she licks your finger and you hiss, pulling away quickly in mock disgust while she laughs, "please you've made me suck on your fingers and now you're grossed out?"

the waiter decides to come with your first dish at that exact moment, a light dusting of pink on her cheeks when she overhears sana's comment, you don't fare much better when you flare up in embarrassment, hastily wiping your finger on your skirt and babbling out a loud thank you to the waiter.

you glare at sana who's trying her hardest not to laugh, no shame whatsoever, shaking in her seat at the effort of keeping it in, her lips pursed and eyes twinkling.

"you're so going to get it when we get back." you mumble as you stab into a mussel on the plate in front of you.

"awwwwh poor baby's embarrassed, don't worry, mommy will make it better."

your fork drops at the term and you feel yourself going extraordinarily red. she's laughing now, loud and boisterous, drawing the attention of a few onlookers and you throw your napkin at her, whining and slinking back into your chair trying to hide your face.

it's a few seconds after you've folded you arms across your chest and tucked your chin in, willing the heat in your cheeks to go away while staring into your lap, that sana's stopped laughing.

she picks up a mussel with her fork and holds it out to you, leaning forward onto the table again, eyes bright making an 'ahh' sound.

you turn your head, not giving her the satisfaction of paying her attention, but she's persistent, "c'mon y/n. i'm sorry i won't tease anymore i promise."

it's no surprise that you can't resist her, rolling your eyes and opening your mouth, accepting the fleshy piece of seafood and chewing. she's smiling and poking her own piece to put in her mouth, humming at the taste and making sure it was to your liking as well.

the rest of lunch is spent like this, playful and fun, it's good to be able to feel like yourselves again after all the hectic film shooting.

you're standing up to grab the bill after you're both finished when sana shakes her head at you, "i got it already don't worry."

"huh? what do you mean?"

"i told the waiter earlier in french so you wouldn't know. just let me treat this time? i still haven't really been able to thank you for coming along with me for this."

"what? sana this was like... a one hundred dollar meal at least. don't be silly let me pay you back."

she's humming and putting her cardigan back on, standing up and walking in front of you, "pay me back by winning something for me at the arcade?"

you sigh, grumbling along as she giggles at you, taking your hand and leading you out of the restaurant, thanking your waiter who still looks a little off-put by you, and walking down the street to where you had spotted the small arcade earlier.

you purchase a hefty amount of arcade tokens and get straight into all the classics. sana just barely won air hockey against you, jumping and whooping with every goal, you have to take off your jacket midway through the game, sweating as you try and focus on hitting the little puck. you get her back on the dance machines though, you can't keep in the laugh when she somehow ends up sprawled on the floor, limbs tangled and missing every following beat.

you cycle through the arcade, speeding through mario kart and midnight run, shooting with abysmal accuracy at the gun games, trying your hand at some of the more unique japanese arcade games they have (which sana completely destroys you at), and eventually ending up at the wide variety of claw machines.

sana's pulling you towards one with spy x family collectibles, and you furrow your eyebrows in concentration as you try to get the small anya keychain for her.

she's giving you instructions from the side of the machine, trying to give you as much perspective as possible before the time runs out and the claw drops. you wait with baited breath as it grabs the keychain, comes back up with a whir, and then... the keychain falls out at the bump at the top of the machine.

you don't even hesitate when you push in another token, determined to win this one thing.

sana's with you the whole way, her reactions only getting more and more expressive with each loss.

you're probably on your 9th try, the claw grabs onto the keychain, lifts it up, and with a whoop the keychain's falling successfully into the claim box. sana's caterwauling and jumping into your arms and you lift her up in glee, spinning her around once before setting her back down. you bend down to pick up the keychain, presenting it to sana with a flourish, and then she's kissing your cheek and squeezing you against her in a hug, thank yous spilling out of her in rapid succession.

you giggle against her, hugging back, relishing in the contact.

after you exchange your arcade tickets for prizes, you head down towards the docks, stopping for some ice cream before making it to the boardwalk.

there are a few other couples doing the same thing, and when you nod politely to an elderly couple holding hands, you're hit with the abrupt realisation that you and sana must look like a couple right now. unless people were homophobic, then you'd just be a couple of close friends, maybe roommates.

you're suddenly hyperaware of the sweat starting to collect on your palm, releasing her hand and wiping it on your skirt when she looks at you with a cocked head, mid-lick of her ice cream cone, eyes wide.

you switch your own ice cream cone to your other hand so it looks like you had an excuse to let go, avoiding her questioning gaze.

eventually you both decide to sit down at the end of the boardwalk, legs dangling over the edge and looking out across the bay. there weren't any boats currently docked in so you had a clear view of the blue vastness in front of you.

sana's leaning in and looking up at you with puppy dog eyes.

"...what?"

she doesn't speak, her eyes darting down to your own ice cream cone and back up.

you roll your eyes and hold it out for her.

she's grinning and sticking out her tongue to lick a long strip along the side of your cone, humming in satisfaction.

"wanna try mine?"

"i'm okay thanks."

she's pouting and you can't have that so you lean in and lick some of hers, cringing at the overly sweet taste of artificial fairy floss but the smile she gives you afterwards makes up for it.

you both sit back and enjoy the light afternoon breeze, a calming presence after the hectic running around you did at the arcade.

"i missed this." sana speaks up first.

"me too."

"things have been pretty crazy with the house. i'm really glad that you're here with me though."

you turn to her and smile, "i'm glad you let me come."

"of course. the home visits later on are gonna get a little crazy. every season those are always full of drama."

"do you know who you want to end up there yet? your final four?"

she hums, thinking for a little, "still not really. we have... nine- wait no, eight since wonsik's a pedophile. so jacky, eunji, jihyo, momo, jun, jiwon, nayeon, and dae."

"it's a good mix i think. they all have different types of chemistry with you."

you're distracted by a buzz on your phone, taking it out and opening your messages.

miyeon: y/n!!!!! i just saw the news about wonsik! its everywhere rn r u guys okay?

"who's that?" sana's looking at your with a curious lilt in her voice.

you hesitate to respond, knowing how she reacted the last time you and miyeon were together.

"oh just my uncle. he's asking what to get my mum for her birthday later. you'd think he'd know since they're siblings but..." you trail off, typing a quick response back to miyeon.

y/n: it was crazy no one saw it coming! the producers called off filming today.. probably so they can deal with all the legal disputes that'll come up bcs of this

you tuck your phone back into your jacket, ignoring the new messages you get. you could respond to miyeon later. today was meant for you and sana.

sana's sighing and leaning her head on your shoulder, "wish i wore swimmers. it's such nice weather and the water looks soo good."

"we can head back and go for a swim in the pool if you want? we haven't had a chance to use it yet. may as well get the most out of being the main character on this show."

she's up in seconds, grinning, all fatigue gone as she practically prances back towards the car, only turning back to yell at you to hurry up.

you beam at her, running to catch up, laughing and smiling, just the two of you.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

sana's yelping when you cannonball into the deep end of the pool, splashing her with cold water in your wake.

"y/n!!"

you break the surface grinning and laughing, trying to splash more water on her.

"sto- stop! y/n oh my god-"

"hurry uppppppp! it's not cold if you get it over and done with!"

"no! i need to put on sunscreen first!"

"sunscreen? it's 4pm!"

"there are still UV rays at this time! i don't want to die from skin cancer and if you're a good girl you'll get out and let me put sunscreen on you too."

you narrow your eyes at her while she's lathering her legs with the white cream.

you decide to ignore her, diving into the pool and resurfacing a few times, splashing around by yourself while she takes her sweet time. to be honest, you're glad for the coolness the pool offers you, when sana first stepped out in her pale yellow bikini, you had felt your cheeks blush all the way up to the tips of your ears. you'd avoided her gaze quickly, instead opting for racing her outside and jumping in right away.

now that she wasn't watching you though, you couldn't help the way your eyes drifted over to her. she had finished with her legs and was now applying lotion to her arms. you traced the outline of her-

"y/n!"

you startle in the water, and she's looking at you curiously when you make a sort of weird strangled sound and water goes swashing around. "y-yeah?" you clear your throat, hoping you weren't as red as you felt.

"can you help with my back? i can't reach." she's looking at you with a dangerous pout, eyes pleading.

you mumble incoherently as you swim towards the shallow end, stepping out of the pool and grabbing the sunscreen bottle from her, gesturing for her to turn around while she grins at you.

you squirt some of the lotion onto your hand, rubbing it diligently into her back. you knew how much she cared for her skin, and even though you cared significantly less for your own, it mattered to her so you had to make sure you did a good job.

the problem arose when you started reaching her lower back. the pressure you've been applying becomes considerably less when you realise just how close you are to sana's ass. sana's very very attractive ass, only emphasised in these bikini bottoms.

"feeling shy y/n?"

"s-shut up."

"you can do my ass too if you want y'know. it's not like it's anything you haven't felt before."

you can picture the cheeky smirk on her face while you recap the sunscreen bottle after you're finished. and really, you just felt like you had to do something about that so before you know it, a hand's coming down and smacking her, a loud resounding slap followed closely by sana's yelp.

you're jumping back into the pool, trying to push the image of her cheeks rippling in the most perfect way to the very back of your mind.

when you break the surface again with a bubbly laugh she's still standing by the side of the pool, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on her face.

"did you just spank me y/n?"

you stick your tongue out her in defiance, sending a splash of water her way.

"oh you are so dead!" she's jumping in now, and you're scrambling away trying to put as much distance between you two as possible. but she closes in quickly, tackling you underwater and pulling you down so you're both submerged.

you're grinning and then you're laughing, but not in a good way because her fingers are at your sides tickling you and digging into all of the sensitive points in your body she's discovered over the time you've known each other.

you spend the next few minutes trying to one up one another, droplets of water flying everywhere, noisy screeches and laughs sounding out. you're lucky this mansion of a house was situated in the valleys with no neighbours or you most definitely would've gotten a noise complaint.

eventually, you decide to call a truce, cheeks sore from smiling, stomach sore from laughing. you float onto your back, closing your eyes and letting out a loud sigh in comfort. you can feel sana floating next to you, your heads next to each other, hearts beating in tandem.

she’s speaking up after a minute, "cats or dogs?"

you snort, "i don't mind."

you can hear the whine in her voice, "just pick one."

you hum thinking about it for a little, "whatever suits my lifestyle better i guess. if i'm really busy with work or i have to stay home a lot then probably a cat. but if i have a big backyard or something then probably a dog. knowing me though, i'll probably end up with cats. i'm too lazy to keep up with the energy dogs have."

"not with me though right?"

"what? of course not with you. also, you're not a dog sana."

"people say i look like a shiba inu."

"that's not the same thing."

she giggles a little before sighing, "you suit cats. okay. it's decided. we're getting a cat when we go home."

"huh?!"

she's breaking into high-pitched laughter again and you can only find yourself to be slightly concerned over whether she's being serious or not. you could deal with that at a much later date though. you drift back into a comfortable silence, listening to the sounds of the night wildlife slowly wake up in the valleys next to you.

"y/n?"

"hmm?"

"i love you."

your eyes are opening now, heart rate picking up. there's no reason to panic right? she meant it as a friend. a friend. so why was it so hard to say it back to her? as a friend?

instead, you say, "enjoy our date that much minatozaki?"

she doesn't respond with the same teasing tone you're expecting, "i really did." all honest and pure.

you're gulping, "...me too."

you know she's standing when you feel light waves push against your body, so you lift yourself up, looking at her puzzled, but she only goes to stand in front of you, grabbing your arms and wrapping them around her waist.

you let her, squeezing slightly and dropping your head onto her shoulder, your eyes drinking in the pinks and oranges of the sunset.

"you're not gonna say it back?"

you stiffen behind her, "what?"

"you know what."

she's tightening her hold around you even before you try to subconsciously escape.

you let out an almost-laugh breath, "...i love you too sana."

"was that so hard?" she's turning now, pupils dilated when they meet yours, pink lips slightly parted, noses almost touching.

you're shaking your head no, breath caught up in your throat.

a crinkle appears between her eyebrows, you have the urge to smooth it out, "are you lying?"

another shake of your head.

you feel her breath against your lips as she lets out a soft exhale, the tightening of her hands against your forearms helping ground you, if only slightly.

"i hope one day you'll be able to tell me the truth." you're confused, what was she talking about? "for now i guess this is fine." and then she's leaning in and pressing her lips against yours.

its almost an automatic reaction now. your mouth is moving against hers even before your brain registers you're kissing.

she's sweet, she always is. but this kiss is a little different. it's not filled with passion or heat, not like all your previous kisses that have always led to tangled limbs and heavy breaths. it's soft, tender, like she's trying to tell you something with her lips. you just weren't particularly versed in this form of sana communication yet to be able to tell what that was.

when she breaks away, the sun is dipping behind the horizon, her forehead leaned against yours, breaths coming in shorter after the lack of air.

she shivers a little when a cool gust of wind starts up.

"inside?" you ask.

she nods, letting you go, and following you out of the pool to dry off.

the rest of the night, even when you end up sprawled on messy sheets, sweat coating your bodies and arms around each other, your lips still tingle from her kiss in the pool. you fall asleep dreaming of small kittens, ice-cream, and sana.

[zeciex]

I'm taking a step back from writing.

I'm really sorry to those who have been excited for this new season--for the pregnancy reveal, for the rebuilding of Daenera/Aemond's relationship, for the smut, for dad!Aemond, for everything.

But I've recieved quite a few comments on AO3 accusing me of using AI in my writing. There was a reddit thread about it, and while it was vague, it was very, very obviously about A Vow of Blood. (They mentioned the length of the fic being almost 1 million words, and my posting schedule.)

And so, I write this to defend myself.

October 2, 2022, episode 7 of HOTD came out and I was immediately drawn by Aemond's character. I watched it when I was on home leave from the ship I was working on. I spent the next 4 weeks plotting the story and coming up with what I wanted to write when I got home. In those 2 weeks I was home again, I wrote and wrote, and then I went out for 4 weeks again.

My work contract ended in January 2023, and from then on, I wrote every single day. I wrote 130 or so pages before even figuring out HOW to write Daenera as a character and after the 130 pages, I decided to scrap most of it and start over.

I had nothing else to do and this was my hyperfixation. I wasn't sure if it was going to last so I kept the first 40+ chapters to myself as I wrote until the 21st of April 2023 where I posted the first chapter.

I then decided I could post twice a week for the simple reason that I had 40+ chapters locked and loaded. And before posting, I went through it, plotted it into my audio program so it read my writing aloud to me to listen for mistakes.

And in the meantime while posting, I of course wrote new chapters. Then, when the chapters finally ran out, the schedule changed to once every two weeks. I did everything I could to keep it--literally putting my life on hold just to ensure that I could post a new chapter every Friday.

This was my hobby, this was my hyperfixation (literally, I'm autistic), this was what I spent my time doing as I recovered from burnout due to grueling work as a sailor. I stressed about it. I had breakdowns over having to skip a Friday because I hadn't been able to write anything for a week.

The reason the story is as long as it is, is because I spent literal hours every day writing. Most days I can reach somewhere between 1500-2500k words. If I'm lucky, I can write more.

I am very aware that my writing is very, VERY detailed--too detailed, even. It's a flaw of mine. I want to set the scene, I want to get all the details that I have in my brain and I want you to see it. Is it too much? Yes. I'm also awfully aware of my progression as a writer, how earlier chapters are written and how the newest ones are written. I'm aware of how I've changed some of the style/started using way tooo many em-dashes, recklessly and hubris-ly (not a word, I'm aware). I know I throw them around. I know I could properly use the good ol' comma, but I like them.

As to the spelling mistakes and grammatical errors, I can say with 100% confidence that it's not some grand scheme that I've thought out to avoid AI detection--I literally didn't catch the mistake when I went through the chapter. I re-read one of my chapters yesterday and found a spelling mistake that I immediately corrected.

I've used grammarly for spell checking/grammar mistakes since English isn't my first language and Danish has a different structure that I often times keep through my English writing. That is the extent of it.

So, here I am, writing this. And I am beyond devastated--to the point of it making me physically ill. I have not used AI in the creation of A Vow of Blood. I have not used AI for plot-points. I have not used AI for character creations. I have not used AI for analyzes. I have not used AI for prompts. I have not used AI to write any chapters for me. I have not used AI in the development of this story.

I have used these sites for this story; Thesaurus ASOIAF Wiki Travel distances in ASOIAF This map A search of ice and fire This for badly translated High Valyrian This from the maker of High Valyrian

And I have used google and various of wiki pages on plants, poisons and whatever else I might need.

Here's some of the few pictures I've taken of my setup throughout those years:

I have like... way too many notebooks for my own good with frivolous details, character sheets, quickly scribbled quotes and inspiration for the story. I didn't expect that I should have taken more pictures.

As I stated previously, this has pulled the rug out from under me. I thought I'd be happily writing until the new season comes out and beyond that. I hoped to finish S2 of the story by the time S3 would come around--though I am terrible at planning this because the story has a habit of taking a life on its own, so it was not likely lol. But this... I don't want to feel anxious about posting a new chapter. I have this pit in my stomach at the thought of even writing now. The one thing that has sustained me through this, the reason I'm still at it, is the lovely commenters. I am beyond grateful for the friends I've made, and I really do hope I'll find my way back to writing. I hope I can finish this story. But the thought of posting at the moment is just.... it brings me so much dread.

I'm going on a hiatus, I'm taking some time for myself. Maybe now I can finally finish my room.

[lillified]

I just found the decepticons (and you) on YouTube so sorry if you've answered this

How long did it take you to complete the 1st episode and do you have any idea when you'll have the next one, it's insane this is just a passion project and that I'm seeing all these comics and art prints still being posted take a billion years if you want just wondering if you had any timeline for yourself

hi! uhhh it’s kind of hard to like. calculate the hours spent because the different areas of production were all done at different times, and this has all been a weekend project for me… but I’ve tried to retroactively keep track of when about I started doing certain things (more below the cut)

I started writing scripts about a year ago, though I didn’t really dedicate serious time to it. I wanted to have a few mini “arcs” plotted before I started planning production on the pilot, mostly because it took time to figure out what rooms I wanted in the spaceship, what I’d need to set up and hint at, etc., although everything about those scripts was and continues to change well into production. I got a “test sequence” done (scene 2 with Starscream) sometime in the middle of the year, realized I needed to adjust some designs, got really caught up with work, did a little bit of misc work on scene 3 with Soundwave… and then in August 2024 I started on scene 1 (originally scene 5), which I anticipated would take the longest. this is around when I’d say I got really serious about it lol.

still on my weekend schedule I spent about 2 months (!!) on and off on just that scene, and probably a month of that was mostly spent fiddling with one shot in particular. that scene was my real test run, and of every scene (with maybe the exception of scene 2) that one changed the most. I spent a lot of time experimenting with how I wanted certain stuff to play out, how I would deal with finishing scenes, what level of detail would not make me miserable, and so on. In the end I think that sequence ended up suffering a bit from a combination of my pickiness+subpar planning on my part (I love boarding action, but I’m still new to writing it) but it taught me a lot and really helped me nail down the details. after that, I was able to move much faster, and after taking a little break for myself I was able to take advantage of the holiday vacation to really kick into gear. I wrapped scene 3 in early December, did some early editing on scene 1 and 2, and then 4, 6, 5, and 7 in that order. By the time editing was done it was the end of January.

when I could dedicate a full-time work schedule to making progress things went along really quickly, and I definitely felt the most accomplished then! Really, the main limiting factor is work. Right now I have a private client assignment to finish, and until the month ends I won’t be able to do much with this project. I have plans to fund a second episode (it won’t be much—just enough for me to feel comfortable working on it full time for a few months) but knowing the process and having the material already I’m confident it wouldn’t take long! I’d love to have something for you all by summer, but we’ll have to wait and see.

Thank you for the question!

[melon-kiss]

I know some of you don't speak Polish and we can't afford to translate 40-min-long chaotic interviews for you and I'm a bit bored (meaning: my brain wants a break from writing but I'm stubborn and I want to finish it TODAY), so I thought I'd give you a bit of a trivia based on interviews with the actors and the crew of 1670:

throughout all the interviews, no one really asked if we're getting season 2. I mean, someone did and the response was: "Well, we know nothing" but nobody really asked if they had any IDEA about what would happen in the next season

I'm not sure about the actors but the creative and directive levels went to a series of lectures on how people lived in Poland in the XVII century

they received a substantial funding, especially considering the directors were complete "no-names"

filming took 3 months, December through February 2022 if I recall

they all lived in an open-air museum in Kolbuszowa; in fact, almost all of the building were already there, they only had to build the house, the barn and the forge

there was no delay in filming, which is apparently rare in the industry but that was because they had a very tight schedule and couldn't afford staying longer in the museum

the last episode was filmed on one day and that was the last day of filming and because of technical issues with cameras working in the inn (the short shot of Maciej serving the pig to the Adamczewskis' table had to be re-done 20 times!), they had to completely rearrange the wedding party scenes, turning them into long shots; the entire labor/dancing scenes were supposed to be shot from 13 (!) different perspectives and be arranged in a "music video fashion"

one of the first episodes (if not THE first episode) to be filmed was episode 7

the script was written with Bartłomiej Topa (Jan Paweł) in mind, however, the actor wasn't really convinced about participating in this project and took his sweet, sweet time to decide on it; same goes to Dobromir Dymecki (Bogdan). Topa says it wasn't because he didn't find it good - it was because he was afraid that the project would be underfunded and therefore fail as projects like that usually don't get the attention they need in Poland

Bartłomiej Topa said he portrayed Jan Paweł as evil and conniving for the first two weeks of being on the set and the first scene they recorded was the one with the "Adamczycha" sign falling down; only after that time, after one scene in particular (don't remember which one, sorry), he finally saw the true nature of his character and changed his approach to the portrayal

surprisingly, Michał Sikorski (father Jakub), unlike Topa, thought of his character as a silly, innocent man and he changed his mind only after seeing the Aniela-Maciej dance scene where he says Love is peaceful, love is kind, love is... unacceptable - he understood he got to play a villain

the actors were FORBIDDEN to improvise; their lines had to be memorised prior to filming

they shot the barrel-cleaning scene (the thing they do before blowing the magnate's son's head up) for 2h because Bartłomiej Topa and Andrzej Kłak (well, he plays Andrzej) couldn't stop laughing; Topa mentions he doesn't even remember how they managed to get it done

all the mud was brought there ON PURPOSE

Kirył Pietruczuk (Maciej) is a debutante when it comes to film, however, he is the only actor in the crew with an acting degree; not only that - he graduated with honors

when asked about this, Michał Sikorski said: "Well, but it doesn't matter, does it? Because, even thought I haven't graduated, I got to play a nobleman and he... well..." (obv that was A JOKE; he is like the sweetest person ever!)

he also said he wrote a "Maciej's journal" during filming and spent a lot of time creating a backstory for his character; he said it was helping with the a-chronical shooting; he read one of the entries out loud in his interview

he jokingly said his favourite episode is the last one because he got to kiss Martyna (Aniela) there

as mentioned before, casting Maciej's role took the longest. They interviewed about 300 candidates and none of them fit. Kirył recalls it was right after he signed a deal with an agency for the first time in his life and he immediately received a call after his first cinema audition and it was 1670, of course! However, he reports that the process was extremely long - he had to go through several stages, each one of them revealing more and more of the script and he wasn't informed it would take that long

The creators said they looked for someone who'd understand the character and his role in the film - as he is the eyes and ears for us, people from XXI century. "He's basically like a viewer of the events, one of us", Kordian Kądziela (director, episodes 5-8) says. It was important he had a good chemistry with Martyna (she was the first and only "Aniela" he had to do short scenes with and the chemistry was immediate) and was able to break the fourth wall properly - he had to have the talent to comment current events with just one look and I personally think he does it perfectly. The actor was also supposed to be "easily likeable by girls"

The first scene they shot together - meaning as Aniela and Maciej - was the dance scene and Kirył says it's his favourite scene in the entire show

Kirył said the scene with the magnate's son was initially very aggressive on his part, however, after speaking to the directors, he decided to tone it down as it was, indeed, not fit for the character to be this angry

they all said, once they got down to it, they had a feeling they were a part of something special

Feel free to add your trivia or correct me if I'm wrong.

[cherrirui-official]

Friendlocke Violet Gijinkas (Part 1/7)

Since the edited episodes are starting to come out, I figured that bc of that and the fact that I've been keeping this in the back burner for a loooong while now, might as well complete all my friendlocke violet gijinkas!! Some are gonna stay the same while others are gonna have slight/ complete redesigns, so please keep that in mind!

I plan on posting them in order by groups of three, so there's gonna be seven parts in total, all of which I'll be linking here when done vvv

(Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five) (Part Six) (Part Seven)

!! These will contain personal headcanons I have for the cast, little fun facts, and also spoilers for Friendlocke Violet (for both the edited vids and the streams) !!

@saltydkart-reblogs

And that's pretty much it, designs under the cut!

LARK:

HUGE nerd. spent most of his time during the Uva Academy studying different kinds of pokemon as well as different fighting styles he can utilize once he is able to go out on his own journey with his very own trainer! Too bad that didn't really help in the long run...

His entire wardrobe consists of McDonald's related outfits. It's fucking insane. He even has some from long LONG ago that aren't available anywhere else.

The bubble pattern on his hair is able to move and change. Nobody knows how this is possible, not even Lark himself. All Lark knows is that his hair looks incredibly stylish!

Speaking of bubbles, he has the ability to blow bubbles whenever and wherever he pleases!

Often keeps himself extremely clean and gets upset if even a small speck of dirt gets on him, despite this he somehow smells like McDonald's food and axe body spray. Disgusting. He's so cool!

Even after death he still likes to hang around the other team members as a ghost, often getting to know the newer members as well as reuniting with the old ones. Sometimes they see him, sometimes they don't. It usually depends.

SARA:

Due to being a human in her past life, Sara is able to actually speak with the other humans in the pokemon world. However she usually doesn't due to it being seen as extremely weird and out of place. She did slip up once while talking in the presence of Arven, who thought it was the weed making him hear things.

Oinkologne are usually unable to do much with their hooves but Sara spent nights practicing how to knit with her new hooves and now she's able to do it flawlessly. I don't know how she managed to do that but go queen!

When first joining the team she'd often have the urge to eat her food related companions. It was a strange time for Sara, but she managed to overcome it.

When Peppy gets sick, she usually is the one who nurses him back to health. She was a human once so she often is able to figure out whatever sickness Peppy has and treat it properly. I suppose she's like a second mother to him.

The bag she carries with her is full of thread that she collected from various Tarountula she encountered on the journey, as well as little things she knits together in her spare time.

For the most part, Sara forgives... but NEVER forgets.

Did you guys know that Sara has a new YouTube channel? Check it out!

Pastey:

Before joining the team, Pastey was a nameless wanderer. He's been down every road in Paldea and knows almost the entire region (except for Area Zero) like the back of his hand.

He's gotten hurt pretty badly throughout the run (ie. the Mikey fight, the Atticus fight, and ESPECIALLY the final battle), however, he does not gain any (physical) scars from those fights. This is bc he's basically an axolotl, and axolotls are usually able to heal without scarring.

Pastey's "arms" are, to put it simply, mud prosthetics. More info here vvv

Pastey HAS met Mall Bingo once before the run, however, he doesn't recognize her. The only reason he does not recognize her is bc she wears glasses. (You know how people somehow aren't able to recognize Superman bc he wears glasses in his civilian attire even tho his face remains the same? It's basically like that lmao)

Unlike the lightbulbs he eats, the gasoline he drinks isn't really mandatory to his diet. Gasoline is like alcohol to him and he drinks it like an absolute CHAMP.

He goes fishing when there's nothing else to do or when he can't sleep at night. He doesn't do this bc he thinks it's fun or anything, only bc it's a "good time passer" or so he claims. Other members of the team will often sit with him and vent out anything that's troubling them at the moment, and Pastey is always there to listen to them.

And that's pretty much it. Next is Joe, Hannah Ü, and Mykyie!

[pinkkop]

This week's recap is brought to you by tumblr's "Potentially Mature" content label which seems to have no concept of what might actually be mature because apparently Prod gushing to Hem about his confession fits within that category🙄

QL Recap for Week 18

The 28th of April to the 4th of May

🇹🇭 Pit babe 2

Episode 1 of 13 || Watching on: iQiYi, Friday

We are so back!! And we certainly started off with a bang (literally) and I'm so ready for this season. It's good to know that Babe still absolute loves getting railed and Charlie is up for the challenge. Surprisingly I'm most excited for Sonic and North. The awkwardness in their first interaction was immaculate and was just the perfect setup for their story. Lets make a prayer circle for someone to get pregnant at some point during this season 🕯️🕯️🕯️

🇹🇭 My Stubborn

Episode 3 of 12 || Watching on: iQiYi, Sunday

Seems like Sorn has been down bad for a long while! The plot thickens!! They're absolute idiots and this is going to become such a mess but I am absolutely loving this. Loved the conversation about top vs bottom, even though we still need a little bit more nuance, we've come a long way with this topic. Also the NC scenes are still absolute fire as I was hoping they would be.

🇹🇭 Lost in the Woods

Episode 7 of 7 || Watching on: Gagaoolala, Wednesday

Oh this show was special! I loved the slow burn and the characters. It just left me feeling fulfilled and like I'd witnessed something special. It felt fresh and gentle and warm and kind and I'll carry this show with me for a long time. It's definitely on the 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us spectrum of BL so if your idea of what a BL is is very narrow you might not like this show. Definitely going to try and make a final post about this show but I'm going to have to let it simmer a bit in my mind before I can find all the right words to articulate why I liked this so much.

🇹🇭 The Next Prince

Episode 1 of 14 || Watching on: iQiYi, Saturday

This was a promising start. I loved the soundtrack and Nunew and Zee are talented as always. I am finding it a little hard not to judge the show a little bit because we know how expensive it was to make, which is also obvious from the sets, clothing etc. This does, however, mean that when a scene is meant to be set at a uni party in London and all the actors have questionable accents and English abilities I don't feel as forgiving as I might normally. I just wish they'd spent a little more time and money on that. I know we're probably not going to see any of those characters again but still. I'm hoping I'll be able to kinda forget the production cost as we go along and get completely immersed in the show but I'm not there yet.

🇹🇭 The Bangkok Boy

Episode 2 of 12 || Watching on: Gagaoolala, Saturday

It's crazy that our leads haven't even really met yet and it's ep 2. It makes me intrigued for how this show is going to unfold because it's so atypical for BLs. Really like the acting of the show and the concept, though it definitely is a show that so far has needed a trigger warning for both episodes. It seems like the mafia plot is going to take the front seat so I might have to go back and watch some of the scenes again so I can get all the expositions.

🇹🇭 Boys in Love

Episode 3 of 12 || Watching on: Youtube, Sunday

They're really cute and I do like all the student characters and interactions and how the relationships are evolving but this show feels kinda like we're bumbling along with no real road map which is a pity. I also don't think the kids taking the camera felt like just teasing. Papang's character was very distraught and the kids saw that so it feels more like bullying to me.

🇹🇭 My Golden Blood

Episode 8 of 12 || Watching on: Youtube, Wednesday

Spent most of my time during this episode not being able to take the show seriously and making jokes about possible connections to Twilight, which I think describes my experience watching this show well. There are just so many other better shows airing right now and this show just doesn't have me hooked.

🇹🇭 I'm Your Moon

Episode 8 of 8 || Watching on: iQiYi, Sunday

I guess that's one way of getting out your arranged marriage: getting shipwrecked and then stranded in France where you stay until your fiance moves on to a different arranged marriage. This show was very much a pulp but I find that easier to deal with because it leaned in the lakorn direction with a lot of drama. It's not necessarily a good show but it's also not a bad show but I think the fact that I watched it until end does speak volumes.

🇹🇼 Fight for You

Episode 7 of 12 || Watching on: Gagaoolala, Friday

This show is certainly happening. Like it's not really good but also not really bad. If this suddenly doesn't show up in future weekly recaps I hope you won't miss it. Honestly, seeing that we're only on ep 7 of 12 makes me tired.

That's it for this week!!

For links and airing schedule check out World of BL (Only for BLs)

[kayotical]

«The Rook's Aftermath»

Part Three: The Aftershock - Available on Wattpad & AO3

»»———————————▷ ⨳ ◁———————————««

Summary:

Isla Stane, the New Avengers' personal publicist, has spent her life trying to get as far away from her father's tainted legacy as possible. Bucky Barnes, unbeknownst to either of them, is an unfortunate casualty of Obadiah Stane's chemtrail of evil. What happens when the truth of Obadiah's past and it's connection to Bucky Barnes' past comes to light? Will Isla maintain her position with The New Avengers, or will she let the skeleton's from her father's closet corrupt everything she's worked for?

»»———————————▷ ⨳ ◁———————————««

This work is inspired by What If...? Season 3, Episode 3, the plot line from Captain America: Civil War, and the ending point of The New Avengers in Thunderbolts*.

»»———————————▷ ⨳ ◁———————————««

Pairing: James "Bucky" Barnes/OFC

Warning/Tags: Recommended 18+ / Mostly Angst and Fluff with Mild Violence, Language, and Intimacy

Word Count: 2.1k

Part One can be read HERE

Part Two can be read HERE

»»———————————▷ ⨳ ◁———————————««

TAGLIST: @doilooklikeagiveafrack

(if you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

»»———————————▷ ⨳ ◁———————————««

Isla’s back went ramrod straight. Every muscle in her body tightened, and her heart rate skyrocketed at the sound of his voice. She forced herself to turn around, only to notice Bucky Barnes looking at the tablet she had discarded on the counter before puking her guts out. 

She watched as his face paled significantly, a pained expression overtaking his features. His shoulders caved in slightly on himself, and his jaw muscle began to twitch as he clenched it tightly together. He flicked his eyes to Isla, panicked and scared. He tried to take a step towards her, but she immediately took an equal step back, raising her hands at him. 

“Don’t.” He flinched at the demand. 

Isla took several deep breaths through her nose. Trying her hardest to curb the anxiety attack that was building in her. She was cornered now, her back to the wall behind her, her only exit being blocked off by Bucky. 

“He killed them. Howard and Maria.” She said lowly. Bucky only looked at her in confusion. 

“The Rook. My father. He sold HYDRA the intel that led to you being sent to murder them.” It wasn’t a question. 

Bucky gave a curt nod, his eyes falling from her face. 

“I didn’t have a ch-“ 

“Shut up.” Isla cut him off. His mouth shut immediately. 

They remained staring at each other, both breathing heavily to try and maintain what little composure remained in them. 

“They were my family.” She said, watching as Bucky’s eyes snapped shut as if he was in pain. “They were probably the only parental figures in my life that ever told me they loved me. Did you know that?” She asked him. 

He cleared his throat, “I didn’t even know you existed until yesterday.” 

Isla scoffed at this. “Of course you didn’t. Everyone forgot about me after they died!” She was yelling now, but not particularly at Bucky. “After their funeral, my father shipped me away to boarding school after boarding school, doing everything in his power to keep me away from him because he HATED me! The only reason that didn’t happen sooner was because Maria and Howard treated me like I was their own daughter. I was 7 years old when they died. I spent the next 11 years fighting to survive until I was 18, and even after that, my father made my life hell until the day he went and got himself blown to hell by that damn arc reactor!” 

Isla was seething now, relentless tears streaming down her face. Bucky looked genuinely broken inside, like every word Isla spoke destroyed another piece of his confidence and dragged him down to the self esteem he once had as the Winter Soldier. 

“I didn’t know any of that, Isla. I’m sorry.” Bucky said, his voice threatening to break. 

Isla put her head in her hands and rubbed her eyes aggressively, trying everything to get the tears to stop coming, but to no avail. “Let me go.” She said without looking at Bucky. 

Bucky immediately stepped back and out of the way. Isla grabbed her tablet in a rush and legged it to where her bag was on the high top table. She stuffed her tablet in her bag and flung her bag over her shoulder before making a break towards the elevators, not even giving Bucky a second glance. 

And he didn’t stop her. 

He stayed put, listening to her hurried footsteps make their way to the elevator. He heard the ding of the elevator doors opening, and he knew she was gone. 

“FUCK!” Bucky shouted, ramming his vibranium fist through the wall. 

He was panting now as he yanked his fist from the hole he made in the newly finished wall. He was pissed. Not at Isla, but at himself. 

‘Why didn’t I think to look for the Stane’s? I needed to make amends didn’t I? I made amends with Pepper and Morgan, why didn’t I fucking think to look for the Stane’s?’

Bucky growled at his thoughts and reared up to put another hole in the wall when he was interrupted. 

“What the hell is going on? That wall was just put in, Barnes!” Mel’s shrill voice said. She didn’t sound happy. “Where is Isla? I thought she was over here?”

Bucky hung his head, “She left.” Was all he supplied. 

“Left? Without her coat? It’s 40° outside.” Mel said. “Why did she leave in such a hurry that she would forget her coat?” She asked him. 

“Because of me.” Again, Bucky was short with her. 

“Why is everyone so fucking moody?” Mel whispered under her breath. 

Bucky looked over to her but chose to ignore the comment. “Where is her coat?” He asked instead. 

“In the coat room. You know, where people put their coats.” She said as she approached Bucky, taking in the damage to the wall. “Trying to get this place to look respectable is hard, and you destroying my hard work isn’t helping.” She turned to look at him with a leveled look, “This is coming out of your check.”

“Fine. Whatever. Where’s the coat room?” Bucky asked. He didn’t seem too concerned about the deduction, he just wanted to go after Isla and try to explain himself. Or, apologize profusely, more like. 

Mel sighed, clearly annoyed with the question. “Next to the elevators, you can’t miss it.” 

She waved him off as Bucky took off in the direction Isla left minutes ago while Mel surveyed the damage. He could hear her taking pictures of the damage and muttering under her breath, but he couldn’t care less. He needed to get to Isla. 

He reached the coat room and saw the long fall peacoat that she had worn the last time she was here. He grabbed it from the hanger and hit the button on the elevator pad. The doors opened and Bucky stepped inside, pressing the button for the lobby. When the doors wouldn’t close fast enough for his liking, he repeatedly started hitting the “close doors” button rapidly in annoyance. 

“So help me God, Barnes, if you break that button I will launch something at your head!” He could hear Mel shout as the doors finally closed and the elevator started to move down towards the lobby. 

But of course it stopped at the 21st floor. 

‘Fucking Walker.’ Bucky thought to himself. 

And behold, none other than John Walker was staring back at Bucky as the doors opened at his residential floor. He was smiling at Bucky, well, that was until he saw the murderous look Bucky was shooting back at him, causing him to drop the smile and turn his expression up in confusion. 

“Who pissed in your Wheaties this morning?” John chided as he entered the elevator. 

Bucky didn’t respond. He just stared straight ahead, willing himself to ignore John’s existence. 

“Tell me, are you this grumpy because you’re 110 years old? Or because you have an indefinite stick up your ass?” John asked, poking the bear. 

“Shut up, Walker.” Bucky bit back at him. 

“Both. Got it.” John said, clasping his hands behind his back. 

The rest of the elevator ride was awkwardly silent, with John rocking back and forth on his feet. Bucky could feel his eye twitching with each rock of John’s body. After about 30 seconds, Bucky was about to snap at John again to tell him to stay still, but the sound of the elevator doors opening to the lobby stopped him before he could. 

“Thank fucking God.” John muttered under his breath before exiting the elevator in a hurry, not even giving Bucky a second glance. 

Bucky began to leg it towards the front door when a soft voice made him stop in his tracks. 

“She didn’t seem like she wanted anyone to go after her.” Stan said.

Bucky turned to face him, his hands balled into fists, but the kind look and gentle smile on Stan’s face caused him to relax. Bucky sighed heavily and dragged a hand down his face, seemingly contemplating what Stan had told him. 

“I need to make sure she’s okay. It’s my fault she took off.” Bucky said after a moment. 

“Be that as it may, son. You might find it more prudent to let her have some space before you try to apologize to her.” He had a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke his advice to Bucky. 

But Bucky wouldn’t budge on his stance, and it seemed after a moment that Stan knew he wouldn’t win this argument. He threw his hands at Bucky to dismiss him before turning his focus back to his desk. Bucky took the silent retreat as his que to leave and spun on his heel. But before he could exit, Stan spoke once more. 

“At least bring her a peace offering.” He said, his attention still on his desk. “There’s a coffee shop a few blocks from here,” he held his hand out with a sticky note, his handwriting scribbled on it, “she goes there everyday. I had her give me her usual order when she started here. It’s a good thing I asked.” His kind smile was back. 

Bucky walked over and took the sticky note from Stan. “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Bucky said. 

Stan gave him a brief nod before shooing him away. Bucky left after that and made his way to the coffee shop Stan told him about. He looked down at the note, “Delilah’s” was written at the top. Assuming it was the name of the shop, Bucky read further. “Medium hot lavender vanilla latte with oat milk.”

‘Typical.’ Was all he thought as he approached the coffee shop, trying to build the courage to order a drink with the word “oat milk” in it and not look like an idiot while doing it. 

‘God I hope Isla lets me apologize. Please, God, don’t let this be for nothing.’

Bucky entered the cafe and knew in an instant he was completely out of place. It didn’t help that as he passed every customer in the building, they stared at him, some even whispering to each other as he passed. When he reached the counter to place Isla’s order, he was greeted by a tall man with round glasses and a toothy smile. 

“What can I get you, hun?” Jeremiah asked. 

“Uh, a medium hot lavender vanilla latte with…” Bucky squinted at the sticky note with Stan’s chicken scratch on it, “oat milk?” Bucky said, no confidence whatsoever in the order. 

“Huh, funny.” ‘Miah said as he grabbed a cup and began scribbling on it. 

“What’s funny?” Bucky asked. 

“Just that a girl- one of our regulars- she comes in everyday and orders that same drink.” He stopped writing on the cup and looked to Bucky, “This wouldn’t be for Isla, would it?” He asked pointedly. 

“Actually, yeah. It is.” Bucky answered, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Hmm, small world.” Jeremiah said whimsically. 

He turned around and began to assemble the drink, leaving Bucky to stand there awkwardly. 

Once he was finished putting Isla’s order together, he slipped a hot sleeve around the cup and handed it to Bucky. 

“On the house. This seems more like an apology coffee than a surprise coffee.” Jeremiah said as he gave Bucky a sympathetic look. 

Bucky huffed out a breath, “That’s putting it mildly.” He gave Jeremiah a muttered thank you and walked out of the cafe. 

Once he was out of the cafe and onto the cold streets of New York, he realized he genuinely didn’t know where Isla lived. Frustrated and completely defeated, he pulled his cell out and dialed Mel. 

“What?” Mel’s voice sounded over the phone, clearly annoyed. 

“Look, I’m sorry for the hole in the wall. I’ll patch it myself if it helps you out. But I need a favor.” Bucky said. 

Mel laughed, “A favor? Really?”

“Yes, please, Mel. I could really use your help right now.” Bucky was practically begging Mel now. “Isla took off because of me. I did something. Something horrible, when I was…him. I need to make things right.” Bucky received silence back, “Please, Mel. I just need to know where she lives.” 

A few moments of silence followed before he heard Mel let out a defeated sigh. “She lives a couple blocks from the tower. I’ll text you her address.” Mel finally caved. “But if she asks how you found out where she lives, you will not tell her I told you. Got it?” Mel threatened him. 

“Got it. Thank you, Mel.” Bucky said before hanging up the phone. 

His phone vibrated and Mel’s contact popped up along with the address to Isla’s apartment. He took off in the direction of her complex like a man on a mission. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone who asked, but with each and every step he took that brought him closer to Isla, the more his anxiety spiked and his composure slipped. 

He was terrified about what was about to happen between him and Isla. 

»»———————————▷ ⨳ ◁———————————««