#with his nephews. But I almost think it would be more in character for him to overstep and try to become a very involved uncle.

[scarlet--wiccan]

tired: Wanda having a problem with her kids being gay

wired: Pietro making a stink about Billy marrying an alien

[luvlystarr]

·········♡········· Prompt: The moment the 141 guys realized they're in love with you. Content: Fluff! (This was all rushed so don't expect it to be the best lol) ························

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick - In all honesty, Kyle has probably been interested since the day you two met. But when he decided to bring you along to his cousin’s birthday party, that's when it fully clicked in his mind. At first he just thought it would be a good idea to get you introduced to his family, you were his close friend after all. It just so happened that his nieces and nephews were there and as soon as they met you they were instantly hooked. Kyle never knew you were so good with kids and just people in general. His nieces and nephews kept playing with you, while his other relatives genuinely enjoyed chatting with you. The exact moment he realized he loves you was when one of his nieces asked you, “Do you like Uncle Kyle?” To which you responded, “Yeah, he’s a very special person to me. I like him a lot.” Of course you had to say those words with that warm, kind smile of yours, it got Kyle melting on the spot. Unbeknownst to you, he heard every single word and has been absolutely lovestruck since then.

John 'Soap' MacTavish - It was quite an odd moment. The moment he knew was when you two were up late at night watching every single Harry Potter movie out there. At some point, about halfway through the third movie, you just started rambling about the characters and story of the whole franchise, even covering little details about the books. Johnny didn’t even know why or how his mind began to think that way, but he just found it so attractive. Even to this day he doesn’t understand why you geeking out about the Harry Potter franchise was so captivating. Maybe it was the way you looked so focused, or how the tv was illuminating your features perfectly, probably your angelic voice too. Either way, he can’t stop thinking about you and he uses every chance he gets to get you talking about any of your interests.   

John Price - He would probably never admit this but the moment he knew he’s in love was when the two of you were fighting. Both of you had a tiny disagreement on something but it ended up growing into a heated argument. For almost half an hour straight, you two just kept going back and forth, gradually raising each other’s voice and becoming more irritated. By the end it got so bad that you slammed your hands on the table and got snappy at John, yelling strings of insults at him. He should be just as angry, but no. In that moment he could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat. How could he get mad if you looked so cute with your pouty lips, furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms? He mistakenly let out a small chuckle at your attempt to be intimidating but he was met with a slap on his face. At that moment he knew that the only reasonable explanation why he felt that way was because he was head over heels.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley - You were the first person he actually got close with. Sure, he has Johnny and he's an amazing friend, but the bond he had with you was unlike any other. The two of you found solace in one another and always had each other's back. The night he knew it was true love was when you drove all the way to his house after a terrible day. You were sobbing endlessly as you rambled on and on about how crappy your boss is as he intently listened, even rubbing your back while handing you a cup of tea. After comforting you, he insisted that you stay for the night. He let you wear one of his hoodies and even let you sleep in his bed. You were hesitant at first but quickly gave in with how insisting he is. He remembered watching you sleep peacefully, all huddled up beneath the blanket. He had to admit, you looked adorable wearing his hoodie with that calm look on your face. That's when it dawned on him just how much he loves you. ········································································

[shadykazama]

Sun Wukong/The destined one (mostly relationship) headcanons!

The people have spoken and the people crave monkey business. So let's get down to it!

❤

Post journey Wukong is a wiser, stronger monkey, but don't let him fool you he's still a trickster at heart.

When you first meet, he has you refer to him as 'Great Sage'.

Earning the right to say his given name isn't so much a big moment as it is just him beginning to care for you. You slip up, whether it be because you were sick or injured or just not thinking, and he doesn't correct you. In fact he kind of likes it.

He doesn't make a big deal out of it, but if you watch closely you can see his tail twitch and his eyes lost in thought.

One character flaw you'll have to deal with, even when you're just friends, is Wukong thinks he knows what's best. He's old and wisened and POWERFUL; if he thinks he knows something will be best for you, he'll do it without so much as telling you.

Credit to Hanibalistic! Their one shot about Wukong and stealing an immortal peach for a mortal reader was perfect and exactly how I think he'd act! That impulsive, "I care about this person and will do what I think is best for them regardless of the consequences or their opinion" is very... him.

Hey, we all have our flaws. (Just don't tell him that.)

On the positive side, he wouldn't let a scratch befall you. At some point you'll stop instinctually defending yourself because of how safe you feel with him. Which is heavily ironic considering how often he himself will put you in dangerous situations just to pull a prank.

But besides your poor heart from getting scared so often, you have nothing to worry about. Wukong won't leave room for even one mistake to slip by him.

Expect him to never call you by your name, almost ever. He chronically tends to call people by titles or nicknames. From calling the tang monk, master, or how he'd call Bajie 'idiot' for most of the book- just expect something. He'd only refer to you by name if he were really serious.

Something I personally find really funny that isn't represented in many medias with him is that he's OLD. He's old as hell and he knows it. In the book he'll often refer to basically everyone as 'nephew' or 'little brother' which is oddly endearing and also really funny.

I feel as though most people don't utilize how heavy he is- even in movies and stuff. His staff is like thousands of pounds! You aren't moving him unless he wants you to. God forbid you end up cuddling. Even while resting I never think he'd put his full weight on you, but you'd definitely be stuck.

Will never refuse to help you, but will tease you endlessly for needing it. "Helpless little thing aren't you?"

His love language is gift giving and acts of service.

He's impulsive with words, but look at how he treats you and you'll see how he cares.

Considering his connections, expect to have the world at your fingertips. He'll never leave you wanting, you'll always be satisfied. There is no gift beyond his reach. Just be careful what you ask for, because he WILL get it one way or another.

He is a king, a leader- it's basically second nature to be serviced, and that's why it's so important how he acts toward you. For you, he stays vigilant, ready to catch you if you fall or feed you when you're hungry. For you, he'll carry you in his arms if you're tired. For you he'd put himself in servitude.

Monkeys also show affection to one another by grabbing at each other for attention, and grooming one another's hair.

I don't think he'd have any trouble getting your attention, he's very vocal! So he'd focus more on your hair. Don't be surprised if he randomly starts combing through with his fingers or just playing with it. It's calming for him, and another form of affection.

You've changed him for the better... And for the worse. He happier, more content and occupied (which is good for everyone). BUT, should you ever disappear or get stolen from him he would surely devastate heaven and earth to get you back. The last thing anyone needs is another, more wrathful, Wukong rampage.

Expect to get shown off at every convenience! You're his king/queen and he'll make sure everyone knows it.

You have the BIGGEST wedding. And I think the best part would've been the Chuangmen, which is a wedding game tradition, usually meant for the groom to prove his loyalty, devotion, and desire to marry the bride by completing tests made by her bridesmaids. There are a ton of really interesting Chinese wedding traditions that I would recommend reading about, but with the sheer power of Wukong, these challenges in particular could've been absolutely ridiculous!

Wukong isn't jealous, no that would be ridiculous, he has nothing to fear. That by no means doesn't mean that he doesn't get offended on your behalf. He's gotten upset at not being greeted properly, there's no way in HELL he doesn't get pissed if someone were to flirt with you. They're lucky if all he does is kill them.

Feel free to make fun of him for not being able to swim. He'll absolutely make you regret it, but do it anyway it'll be funny.

Am I the only one that thinks he'd be great with kids? 🤚

Like COME ON- the dude probably helps take care of the baby monkeys on his mountain. He tells them cool stories to get them riled up. Will lay down and let them play with his hair while you read or sing to him.

Give this man kids I dare you.

That's a topic for a different post 😌

Likes kissing you on the top of the head, will also lay his forehead against yours just to be close to you.

These two designs I really like for him! Y'all let me know in the comments which version is your favorite <3

💙

The destined one may look like Wukong, but they're certainly different in... most areas.

Being selectively mute makes things a good share more difficult to communicate with him than Wukong, but it has it's charms.

You'd just been... tagging along with him. He didn't mind, unlike the wolves and undead he'd been beating through, you proved no threat to him.

He figured you would just leave on your own- or die. But by some miracle even he didn't understand, you stuck by him through rain and dust storms alike. By the time you made it to the New West he felt obligated to keep you around.

For the first time since you started following him, you were actually in danger. And to both of your surprises, he dropped what he was doing to protect you.

Don't bother asking him why. Whether you do, or simply tell him thank you, he'll just wave you off. But you notice him walking closer to you than normal after that. No longer were you left to catch up with him while he sprinted off; he'd keep stride with you now, glancing at you every now and then.

He CAN talk, and he probably surprises you the first time he does. It's not even for something important. It's just one fateful night where you happen to decide to mess with his hair. You'd pull away after a moment and he'd rumble out a little, "Don't stop."

Now that you KNOW he can talk, it's even more annoying when he refuses to answer you.

He finds it amusing when you get frustrated with him about it. He can't help it. The whole time you're grumbling or ranting at him, he's just staring at you with his stoic face... thinking about how cute you are.

Feel free to give him a name. Not like he'll argue with whatever you pick-

But really, please call him something other than "the destined one". He'd never really needed a name before, but he'd treasure whatever you decide to call him.

He probably has a nickname for you too, he just only says it in his head...

Will click his tongue at you to get your attention. (Absolutely does the 'tsk tsk tsk' thing people do to call their cats)

Speaking of getting your attention- ^ remember how monkeys show affection by just kind of grabbing each other and squeezing and pressing their head against each other?

Yeeeeah. He's a touchy monkey. He won't ask for affection, so he kind of just does it himself. Will rub his head on you, not unlike how cats or rabbits do to mark things they like. Except he's just doing it to be affectionate.

Gets cuteness aggression and WILL just grab you.

If it wasn't obvious, his love languages are physical touch and quality time.

Doesn't need help putting armor on, but if you want to help he won't stop you. (The closeness makes his heart beat fast)

If you were ever both in a bad spot- being threatened and not in a place to put up a good fight, he'd cover your body with his and bare his fangs at whatever was trying to hurt you guys to intimidate it. (It probably wouldn't work- but it's an instinctual response.)

If your feet got cold in the snow in the New West he'd pick you up and let you rest on his back for awhile.

Likes when you rely on him like that, it makes him feel stronger. And besides it just "being his destiny", knowing you'll get hurt if he loses helps him focus during fights.

Terribly jealous individual.

The glare he would give someone is straight up deadly. Watch out for how his tail flicks around when he's irritated too 🤭.

Absolutely adores the sound of your voice, it could bring him out of a coma fr.

Doesn't mind being little or big spoon, he just likes cuddling. Wraps his tail around you when you do.

Always always makes sure you eat before he does, even though he's the one doing all the fighting.

Will let you win play fights (most of the time).

Hearing him laugh is the cutest thing ever I swear- It probably took you off guard the first time you manage it.

Doesn't know how to take compliments.

Probably short circuited the first time you complimented his appearance.

Very gentle, slow kisser. Likes having you in his lap, but will grab cheeky kisses every now and then too. Will tilt your chin up when you kiss, every time.

Art by @marcu-bug

[hotjaneaustenmenpoll]

WHO IS THE HOTTEST JANE AUSTEN MAN ? THE FINAL

Propaganda...

Captain Wentworth (1995):

Ciaran Hinds has that perfect ruggedness yet friendliness to his face that makes him the perfect charming Wentworth. And all of the longing that he manages to convey in his eyes is so hot.

Wentworth may be angry/resentful with Anne but in general he is charming and the best friend you could ever have. Ciaran gets the pleasant parts of his character and brings them out, while keeping a guarded coolness (protective camouflage) with Anne.

64.media.tumblr.com

GIF by molinaesque

I dunno if this counts as propaganda or not, but Ciaran Hinds has a face that looks like it was jackhammered out of a shale cliff.

If a line like 'I am half agony...half hope' comes out of a face like that you know that man has a soul for poetry.

I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in

F. W.

I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.  

This is propaganda for the next round because I need my boy to be a finalist! But this letter is all the persuasion I need to know that he is a winner

Ciarán Hinds in this is a whole other level of "a good man" He makes Anne's decision at the end so much more perfect.

LOOK

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HOW

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HE

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YEARNS

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The yearning the yearning - JLM gives a great look but Captain Wentworth is the king of longing stares. He's trying sooo hard to hate her sooo hard to get over her - 8 years and he thinks he's ready to face her and move on but no he has to notice she's exhausted on the walk, that her nephew is being overwhelming, that she should be dancing and not just playing the piano for everyone else. And even though he's jealous later on when Mr Elliott gives her an "admiring look" in lime he's pleased for her because he knows she deserves to be admired and cherished even if he's angry that he wasn't able to be the one she let admire and cherish her. I just this man - he loves Anne so much and it's so so hot.

Propaganda for Captain Wentworth.

I've always loved Persuasion and so I was voting for him in his polls anyway, but I had never seen the 1995 adaptation. So because of this blog I decided to check it out.

Well. Now I'm obsessed. I came into this tournament fully expecting to vote Firth Darcy to victory. Ciaran Hinds suddenly showed up and sparta kicked him to curb. His every look, every gesture is laden with longing. He's so tender with Anne but then the barely restrained rage in his voice when he speaks to Lady Russell. He's rugged and manly yet tender and considerate.

I BURN, I PINE, I PERISH

If you're wondering why you should vote for Wentworth 95 in the @hotjaneaustenmenpoll, it's because he's got something hot for everyone.

Do you think it's hot when a man dresses up fancy? He looks very dapper in his uniform! Or do you find it more sexy when a man is more casual, a little mussed up, maybe even a little grimy? He does that perfectly too!

Do you find men hot when they're being tender and restrained? Or do you find men hot when they're losing control a bit, maybe getting a bit passionate with anger or jealousy?

Do you like a refined man of culture? Or a rugged outdoorsman?

A warm smile? Or something more broody?

Someone who's the life of the party, boisterous, laughing, charming? Or the strong silent type, serious, calm, mysterious?

Hinds's Wentworth does all of these sexy things brilliantly! You cannot lose with him, he's got it all!

II ranked Wentworth as the #1 Austen man in terms of fuckability, and I stand behind that when it comes to Wentworth 95 versus Knightley 09.

Is Wentworth 95 angry sometimes? Yeah. But that's hot, at least coming from Ciaran Hinds' ruggedly handsome face. Have you heard of makeup sex? Tell me Wentworth 95 and Anne don't have the most scorching hot angry makeup sex imaginable 🥵

And yet Wentworth 95 is also super tender! The slow, gentle, worshipful way he kisses Anne at the end?? So beautiful and hot. The longing way he looks at Anne in silence. The way he is so solicitous of Anne's comfort to put her on the carriage with his sister! You can just tell he's gonna take the time to worship his wife in bed.

And let's not forget that he writes the most romantic letter ever written! The depth of passion in this man, my god! 🔥💕🔥

This is not a who is the better man contest, or who is the more faithful to the book, or who would you most want to marry. This is a hotness contest, and Wentworth 95 is so fucking hot.

Mr Darcy (1995):

Colin Firth (1995) is book Darcy brought to life. He uses tiny gestures and looks to communicate with us and Elizabeth… his struggle is so subtle but so palpable. A beautiful asshole with a creamy nougat center. Just perfect.

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Those heart-eyes right up above☝️? Hot!

Passive-agressively drinking tea? Hot!

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The way he rushes over to see Elizabeth at Pemberley on those delicious long legs of his with that slutty wet curl hanging over his forehead? Hot!

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Fencing? Hot!

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The way he is so concerned about Elizabeth crying and takes her hand even though he shouldn't? Hot!

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This dimple-y smile of pure joy because he knows he's married to Elizabeth freaking Bennet? Hot!

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Colin Firth Darcy is simultaneously immaculately put together and entirely falling apart internally. The wet shirt scene is so iconic not (only) because ‘oooh almost-shirtless sexy man’, but because it’s a metaphor for how he’s absolutely falling apart!!! This is a private moment, when he doesn’t think anyone can see him. And then he bumps. into. Lizzie. At his house!! And the entire sequence that follows with him rushing out still doing his jacket up to catch her before he leaves. They are both on the back foot and it’s THAT moment of confusion that opens a more honest dialogue between them.

Without Firth in a lake you wouldn’t get Macfadyen in a downpour!

There's a reason why Colin Firth is forever known as Mr. Darcy above all other roles he's had and will have! Even ignoring the wet white shirt, which has become A Thing now, he is so hot with his curly hair and his little half smiles and his intense looks of longing and his legs that go on for milessss.

This cannot be real. My fellow Jane Austen people. Without Colin Firth’s Darcy we wouldn’t have 90% of modern JA content. He opened a door and there was no turning back for modern culture. There would be no MacFadyen standing half undressed in a field at dawn without Firth jumping into a lake first. There would be no hand flex if there hadn’t been Firth doing his best impression of a man undressing Elizabeth Bennet with his eyes and hating himself for liking it. There would be no Bridgerton without Bridget Jones. Let’s face it people. We wouldn’t be here having these arguments if Colin Firth had not been Mr Darcy.

Colin Firth understood Mr. Darcy in a way no other actor ever has. He is awkward as fuck in a way that comes across as snooty and judgmental on a first watch-through, then can be read as awkward and longing on a second time. His performance had such depth while looking extremely shallow at first glance. This man WAS Mr. Darcy. (I love 2005, as well, and I love Matthew McFayden, but he was awkward for awkward sake.) Colin Firth made Darcy's awkward look snooty and aloof.

THE socially awkward Darcy is the 1995 Darcy - look at him coming and sitting in awkward silence with Elizabeth pointedly asking her if she wants to live a long way from her family (to obvious relief) and then abruptly leaving - vote for him please 😭😭😭😭

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Colin Firth served so much as Darcy that when they did Bridget Jone's diary, they brought him back.... AS DARCY. The smoulder. The angst. The man is the quintessential Darcy.

“Firthing” is an actual term that is used now to describe someone yearning intensely. It is named after Colin Firth’s Mr Darcy performance.

Colin Firth all the way. He's known in our household as Owl Eyes because in every frame he's mooning over Elizabeth Bennet. Unsurpassable, unmatched, golden television (and some of the worst dancing you've ever seen).

Colin has beautiful, touchable curls.

Link

My high school English teacher was very into using movies to teach alongside literature, which was a great teaching tool. When we read Pride and Prejudice, he used both 2005 and 1995 for various scenes. What stands out to me all these years later was when it got to the part when Lizzy went to help Georgiana after Caroline dropped Mr. Wickham's name and Darcy gives Lizzy this look:

My teacher stopped the film and pointed at Darcy's face and said, "See that? That is THE look. If someone ever looks at you like that, you know they're in love." And what is hotter than that?

Also this teacher had two cats named Lizzy and Darcy. Not relevant to the poll but I wanted you all to know about them.

Colin Firth dazzles and amazes in the nuanced performance that just blows all other attempts away.

The best thing about the Colin Firth wet shirt scene is actually the scene that follows where him and Lizzie are both just dyinggg of embarrassment but Darcy pulls himself together refuses to lose his advantage and runs to get dressed and chase her down before she leaves - just the mix of cringe and hopefulness at seeing her again is so well done and so attractive!!! (this is just the bit where he's running after her but I love it all!)

[psychemochanight]

Tell me some FANON facts that you don't like

I think I've already mentioned most of them, but I'll quote them again with summary explanations:

The "Happy Robin" and "Angry Robin" thing.

Especially Jason as the "Happy Robin", not because I have anything against Jason being happy as Robin, but because the fandom generally infantilizes him excessively, makes him behave like a 5-year-old instead of a 13-year-old. Plus, I do like the post-crisis Jason, more rebellious and with more personality.

Tim being an insomniac coffee addict.

Tim is the brother who falls asleep anywhere, at any time. If you're not careful, the guy has already slept for 14 hours between micro-naps and is going for more hours.

Tim being an extremely thin, delicate and shy boy.

He's so cool in canon, I just can't stan his fanon version.

Dick being the laughing stock of the batfamily.

Like, he's literally probably the most respected member (not after, ALONG with Batman), and probably one of the few whose threats would be taken seriously by everyone, but the fandom only has him as comic relief for being the most optimistic and cheerful of the family.

The thing about Alfred only letting Jason in the kitchen because he's the only one who knows how to cook.

He taught Dick to cook in his own kitchen- Dick has cooked for his family before, and he's lived alone for almost 10 years - how could he not know how to cook? If he is banned from the kitchen, it is because he climbed onto the fridge as if he were a cat, or because he is delirious with fever and refuses to rest.

Dick living in the mansion again.

You want my man to have a nervous breakdown???

That they lower the abilities of some family members in order to exalt others.

Just because Cass is better at fighting doesn't make the others useless? Plus I think it's canon that some can beat her, not all the time, but like, in sparring matches they can actually beat her sometimes too? Just because Tim is the "detective" doesn't mean everyone else is bad at it? Just because Jason is the best with guns doesn't mean the others don't have good aim?

Duke being the normal one in the family.

NO ONE is normal in that family. Not even Alfred.

When they make Dick a mediocre student.

My boy was a top student, kinda a nerd but also a athlete, don't discredit him like that.

Jason being Tim's Robin.

Tim was first a fan of Dick Grayson and then a person dude, there's no way.

Jason calling Tim's replacement 24/7.

While the relationship between Jason and Tim is not as close as the fandom presents (they usually use facts from Tim and Dick's relationship to make him act like that with Jason), Jason doesn't live in a spiral of hatred towards Tim either, maybe at first, but then things calm down quite a bit between them.

The sexualization of Dick's character.

I don't mean like in canon, I mean how people directly turn him into a whore who would have sex with anyone who offers to him. Like, no???? What's wrong with u???

I actually hate that with any character, but it happens more with him.

Bruce being too perfect that none of his kids can even surprise him.

Canonically Dick scared him more than once, and I'm sure his other kids also managed to surprise him at least. Let the guy be a human, he's not an omnipresent god.

Completely ignore Clark and Dick's uncle-nephew relationship.

I don't think I need to explain this.

That's what I can think of now, there's probably more to it, but aha-

I don't completely hate these facts, and I don't mind people using them exactly, but I don't like it when they pass them off as canon- If you like it more than canon, it's completely valid, they are fictional characters and it doesn't hurt anyone, but don't expect me to agree with you if you tell me that's the true personality of the characters, u know?

[szariahwroteit]

Girls Need Love: A Kylian Mbappè x Original Character Erotic Series.

18+ Minors DNI

Chapter 19

Giselle wasn't sure if it was convenient or a punishment of nature's own doing, but within twenty-four hours of Kylian leaving to fulfill his duties as captain for France, her period came, bringing along with it an overwhelming wave of cravings and emotions.

She felt every flutter of her body, heightened and pulsing with desire as if her very essence was aching for Kylian’s warmth. Each day stretched out before her like an eternity, and she found herself lost in thoughts of him—the way he smiled, the softness of his voice, and the way his hands had felt exploring her curves.

She had spent his first game on Melissa’s living room sofa as she watched Kylian and his teammates take on Croatia’s national team in their home stadium, nursing cramps and almost unbearable nausea.

The match saw Kylian and his teammates walk away goalless while Croatia scored two goals, almost securing their place in the cup semi-final.

By the time the second leg rolled around, Giselle's period had come to an end. However, anxiety swirled in her stomach as she prepared to meet Kylian's parents and younger brother.

“Cam, what if his mom takes one look at me and decides she doesn't want me around her son?” Giselle asked cautiously, running through every possible negative outcome.

“Gi, Kylian is twenty-six, not sixteen. I'm sure what his mother thinks doesn't hold half as much weight as you think it does, so why would she not want you around him?” Camille asked.

“His parents might be really conservative and not want their son with a model or someone on television.” Giselle attempted to rationalize.

“Giselle, you're a model, not a pornstar,” Camille replied with an eye roll over FaceTime, trying to ease her friend's worries.

“You're right—,” Giselle agreed, her heart skipping a beat as the sound of Kylian's doorbell chimed through his house, signifying the arrival of his sister-in-law Melissa and his niece and nephew, with whom she was set to drive to his football match.

Pulling her coat on over the comfortable yet alluring outfit she’d decided on, Giselle took a deep breath, steadying herself as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. The soft fabric of her top hugged her curves just right, accentuating her waist, while her leggings, which fit like a glove, accentuated the curve of her ass. She felt excitement and nerves bubbling, amplifying her desire to be near Kylian.

When she finally stepped outside, the crisp air hit her, forcing her to tug her coat tighter around her shoulders. She spotted Melissa waving enthusiastically as she approached the car, her two kids bouncing with energy in the back seat. Giselle gave them a warm smile, her nerves momentarily forgotten in the joy of family.

“Ready for the big day?” Melissa asked, her smile infectious as she helped Giselle into the car.

“Yeah, I think so. Just hope I don’t embarrass myself,” Giselle replied, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

“You’ll be fine! Kylian’s family is great. They’ll love you,” Melissa reassured her as she slid into the driver's seat.

Giselle’s thoughts drifted back to Kylian as they drove toward the stadium. The ache inside her was not merely from anticipation; it had somehow morphed into something more intense. A longing that had only seemed to heighten in the absence of his touch made her feel alive in a way she couldn’t fully grasp.

When they arrived at the stadium, the excited buzz of fans filled the air, a chaotic symphony of cheers and shouts.

Giselle felt her palms become clammy and her stomach twist in knots as she trailed behind Melissa and her children into a private lounge at Stade De France. The space offered a view of the pitch set aside for Kylian's family and friends.

Sensing her nerves, Melissa turned to Giselle, offering her a warm smile. She held out her hand for her to take. “Wilfred and Faiza are both amazing people,” she explained reassuringly to Giselle, who was only seconds away from meeting the parents of a man who was essentially a fuck buddy to her.

Giselle took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of Melissa's hand enveloping hers, grounding her in the moment. The plush interior of the lounge was luxurious, but the reality of the situation was that she was stepping into the world of Kylian’s family.

“Just be yourself; Kylian adores you,” Melissa murmured, sensing her tension as they moved further into the room. Giselle nodded, though her mind raced with thoughts of her relationship with Kylian.

They had long since established that they had real and true feelings for one another, but the fact remained that their connection had started in a whirlwind of passion, filled with late-night rendezvous and stolen moments away from prying eyes. Now, standing here in the presence of his family, Giselle felt the weight of that intensity shift into something more profound and daunting.

As they approached Wilfred and Faiza, she took another deep breath, mentally preparing herself for their scrutiny.

Giselle watched as Melissa’s children embraced the man and woman Kylian had shown her countless pictures of, giggling and hugging the older man and woman before bouncing over to the door that led to a private row of outdoor seating so they could watch as the other team warmed up.

“Who do we have here?” Faiza smiled knowingly, her French accent thick, as she and her ex-husband turned their attention to Giselle, who stood awkwardly beside Melissa.

Giselle felt a rush of warmth at Faiza's welcoming smile, her heart pounding as if it were trying to break free from her chest. She could sense the kindness radiating from Kylian's mother, which eased the tightness in her gut, if only slightly.

With a soft and shaky voice, Giselle replied, “I’m Giselle. It’s nice to meet you both.” She stepped forward, extending her hand first to Wilfred, who smiled wide, a twinkle of approval in his eyes. He grasped her hand firmly, the warmth of his grip reassuring and grounding.

“Pleasure is ours, Giselle,” he replied in a deep, inviting voice. “Are you a friend of Kylian’s?”

Giselle felt the air grow thicker around her as she searched for the right words. The term "friend" felt so innocuous, stripping away the passionate connection they shared. But she forced herself to focus, trying to keep her answers simple and genuine.

“Yes, I am,” she managed, her cheeks flushing slightly. “We’ve been… spending time together.”

At that, Faiza’s eyes sparkled with intrigue. “Spending time together? Kylian doesn’t often let just anyone into his life. You must mean a lot to him.” Her words wrapped around Giselle like a warm shawl, both comforting and intimidating at once.

Giselle swallowed hard, feeling a mixture of pride and vulnerability at Faiza’s recognition. “He means a lot to me, too,” she admitted, her cheeks warming even more under Faiza's gaze. She felt the momentum shift as both parents exchanged glances, a silent communication that was both affirming and slightly nerve-wracking for her.

As far as meeting parents went, Kylian’s were incredibly warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the expectations that had loomed heavily over her mind. The tension in the room began to melt away, replaced by the gentle hum of familial warmth.

Kylian's younger brother Ethan was just as welcoming as his parents had been. Like his older brother, he had a disarming charm that immediately put Giselle at ease. He bounced over to introduce himself, his energy infectious and heartfelt.

The next person to join them was Brice, Kylian's best friend. She had met in Switzerland only days after meeting Kylian, and the familiar face further put Giselle at ease.

“You met the parents?” Brice smirked teasingly. The last time he’d seen Giselle, both she and Kylian were unsure whether they would still see one another once the trip to Switzerland came to an end.

Giselle laughed lightly, a small bubble of relief escaping as she felt the camaraderie with Brice. “Yes, I’ve just been introduced. They seem wonderful.”

“They are,” Brice confirmed, his smile genuine. “Kylian is lucky to have such supportive parents. And I think they’re pretty fond of you already.” He glanced at Wilfred and Faiza, who were now animatedly discussing the upcoming match with Melissa, clearly at ease in her company.

“Part of me half-expected them to interrogate me about my intentions,” Giselle confessed, a hint of playful self-mockery in her tone.

Brice chuckled softly. “Nah, they’ll warm up to you. As long as Kylian is happy, they are happy. He is a great judge of character, and they know that.”

Giselle felt a swell of gratitude toward Kylian’s family as Brice spoke. The fears and uncertainties that had initially twisted her stomach began to dissipate, replaced by the glow of acceptance and warmth that enveloped her.

“Kylian and I are friends; this should be easy,” Giselle muttered to herself, but even as she spoke those words, doubts crept back in. She could feel the weight of unspoken expectations lingering in the air. Brice must have sensed the flicker of anxiety behind her brave facade.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Brice smirked, tilting his head slightly, an amused glint in his eye. “Kylian could have sat you anywhere in the stadium, and he has you with his parents,” he pointed out.

He knew his friend well enough to understand that Kylian's choice to bring Giselle here was significant. The subtle undercurrents of their relationship were becoming clearer, and it sent a timid rush through her.

“I guess there's truth in that,” she admitted, her voice softening as she felt a spark of something deeper. For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to imagine how Kylian saw her—not just as a companion for fleeting moments but as someone who brought joy and warmth into his life.

Just then, the stadium lights dimmed as the pre-match ceremony began, and a wave of excitement pulsed through the lounge. Giselle felt her heart race, the atmosphere charged with anticipation. Kylian's family focused their attention on the pitch, and Giselle followed suit, allowing herself to get lost in the excitement unfolding before them.

Moments later, Kylian and his teammates stepped on to the pitch alongside their opponents , and the roar of the crowd seemed to sweep through the lounge like an electric wave. Giselle's eyes were drawn to Kylian, effortlessly commanding attention, his aura magnetic even from a distance. She felt a surge of pride swelling within her chest, knowing that she had a place in his life, one that held meaning beyond lust.

The game was tense from the first moment of kickoff; whilst Kylian and his teammates had a score to settle following losing in their previous matchup, their opponents were tasked with keeping the somewhat refreshed team at bay.

After 120 minutes and two goals scored by France, the game went to penalties. As the captain Kylian stepped up to take his penalty first and Giselle felt her stomach flip as he prepared to shoot, the weight of the moment hung heavily in the air. Her heart raced with every heartbeat, each pulse intertwining with the chant of the crowd that reverberated through her entire being. She could feel the intensity building not just on the pitch but in the private lounge, where Kylian's family watched with rapt attention.

The world around her faded, her focus narrowing solely to Kylian as he took a deep breath, his eyes locked on the goalpost. She could see the determination etched on his face, the fierce desire to triumph for his team, but also for everyone who had supported him, including her. A blend of pride and anxiety coursed through Giselle, the dichotomy of their relationship so starkly felt in this critical moment.

As Kylian launched himself into the kick, Giselle found herself holding her breath, time slowing as the ball soared toward the net. She could feel the collective energy of the room shift, the anticipation hanging like electricity in the air. The crowd erupted as the ball hit the back of the net; Kylian had done it. He’d scored.

In that split second, the tension dissipated, replaced by an eruption of cheers and applause from the audience. Giselle's heart soared in unison with those around her. She wanted to shout to celebrate his amazing skill and presence, but the moment felt sacred, distinct, and shared only between her and Kylian's family.

Wilfred and Faiza exchanged proud glances, their eyes sparkling with affection for their son. Melissa squeezed Giselle's hand, her warmth radiating as Kylian's younger brother Ethan bounced in excitement, cheering loudly. Brice caught Giselle's eye and gave her a knowing grin, as if he were silently acknowledging the bond that was quickly developing between her and Kylian, one that transcended the physical into something deeper.

As the penalties continued, Giselle found her focus lingering on Kylian. She thought about how much she valued their connection, the mutual respect and admiration they had for one another, and their insatiable, feverish passion.

As the match came to an end and the crowd began to disperse, Giselle followed the lead of Kylian's family as they made their way down to the stadium’s underbelly to meet up with him. Taking a step back to allow those closest to the French captain the time and space to catch up.

Giselle didn't have to voice her nerves for Kylian to know they were present as she stood observing at the back of the room.

Excusing himself from the conversation he stood amid, Kylian couldn't help but smirk as he approached her. His confident stride drew the attention of those around him, but all he saw was Giselle, her eyes wide with admiration and apprehension.

“Hi,” he said, his voice low and inviting as he stepped into her personal space, tilting his head slightly to gauge her reaction.

“Hi,” Giselle smiled softly, her cheeks warming as Kylian hooked a finger beneath her chin. She tilted her face upward to meet his gaze.

“Why are you standing back here?” he asked, his tone playful yet probing. He could feel her energy shift, her initial hesitance slowly melting away under the intensity of his gaze.

“I—just observing,” she replied, her voice a whisper.

“Did my parents bite?” Kylian asked teasingly, his hands finding her hips beneath the trench coat she wore, pulling her body closer to his. The warmth radiating from her figure sent a pulse of electricity through him, and he reveled in the closeness as he continued, “I know it should have been me making the introduction, but I trust Melissa.”

“It was fine. Your parents are welcoming and warm. But I introduced myself as your friend, and friends don't do this.” Giselle smirked, looking down at their closeness before her eyes met Kylian’s again.

“Friends don’t do this,” he echoed, his voice a low rumble that reverberated through the space between them. He tightened his grip on her hips just enough to signal he was only teasing, a playful challenge sparking in his eyes. “But what if I want to be more than just being your friend?”

Giselle swallowed, feeling the tension between them shift from playful banter to something that crackled with unspoken desire. She didn’t need to respond verbally; the way her breath hitched, and her body instinctively leaned closer spoke volumes. Kylian’s gaze flicked down to her parted lips, the soft swell calling to him.

“Are you afraid of what that might mean?” he asked, his thumb gently caressing her cheek, savoring the softness of her skin. He was acutely aware of the way their bodies were pressed together, the heat radiating off of her igniting a fire within him that he struggled to contain.

Giselle’s heartbeat quickened in response, a soft blush flooding her cheeks. “Not anymore,” she admitted, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile despite the apprehension that wrapped around her like a shroud.

“Can I kiss you?” Kylian murmured his breath, a warm caress against her lips, hanging in the air like an intoxicating promise.

“In the same room as your parents?” Giselle whispered, her eyes darting to the gathering in the other part of the room. The chatter was a soft backdrop to the electric tension that thrummed between them.

Kylian chuckled softly, a low, rich sound that sent shivers down her spine. “They’ve seen worse,” he teased, his gaze unwavering, filled with mischief and desire.

Giselle’s heart raced at his confidence, her thoughts racing as she weighed the options. The allure of his closeness, the magnetic pull she felt toward him, was almost impossible to resist.

“Just one,” Kylian said, his tone earnest now, his fingers gently brushing the strands of hair behind her ear as he leaned in, closing the distance between them inch by tantalizing inch.

She inhaled sharply as his lips hovered mere inches away from hers, warmth enveloping them in a cocoon of anticipation. The world around them ceased to exist—there was nothing but the space they occupied, charged with an urgency that begged to be released.

“Just one,” she echoed, her voice barely above a breath, her heart pounding in sync with his sinking confidence.

And then, with that unspoken understanding, their lips met—a tentative brush that ignited a blazing fire within them both. It was soft at first, a gentle exploration, yet the undercurrent of heat surged, electrifying the air around them. Kylian deepened the kiss, tilting his head to cradle her face with both hands, pulling her body closer as if wanting to fuse them into one.

Across the room, Kylian’s mother watched on in amusement as she caught sight of her son and Giselle, a knowing smile spreading across her face.

At the time of their introduction hours prior, Faiza had an inclination that Giselle was more than just a friend to her son, and seeing them in this intimate moment only solidified her suspicions.

“So beautiful,” Kylian murmured as he pulled away from Giselle's lips, running the pad of his thumb across her plump lips as if savoring their taste as he took in her outfit beneath her trench coat.

Dressed in a camisole with a thick cashmere cardigan unbuttoned beneath, teasingly showing off the curves of her breasts, she wore black leggings on her legs that looked like they had been painted on, tucked into a pair of Chanel rain boots.

Kylian felt his breath hitch at the sight, his heart racing as his eyes traveled appreciatively down her figure—each curve perfectly accentuated, every detail intentional. The combination of elegance and allure left him utterly mesmerized.

“Giselle…” he breathed, his voice thick with a mixture of admiration and desire. “You look incredible.”

She blinked, caught off guard by his steady gaze, which seemed to undress her without touching her. Her cheeks flushed even more, the praise stirring feelings she had kept at bay. "Thank you," she replied, a shy smile tugging at her lips.

He took a moment to absorb the intimacy of their surroundings—her warmth pressed against him, the contrast between the lively gathering in the room and the quiet world they had created between just the two of them. In that moment, it felt as though they were the only two people in existence.

“Come with me,” Kylian said as he took her hand, bringing her over to where everyone else stood conversing enthusiastically, following France’s win over their opponents.

After fulfilling the last of his media duties as the captain of his country's football team, Kylian was ready to escape the chaos and be alone with those closest to him, away from the demands of the outside world.

Due to the late hour after the match, which went into overtime, penalties, and the demands of their own lives, Kylian’s family didn't stay at his place long. His mother left him and Giselle with hugs, well wishes, and the promise they'd see each other again soon.

Save for the random noises of the house and the ticking of the wall clock, Kylian's house was silent as Giselle stood alone in the kitchen, taking a moment to catch her breath. The atmosphere starkly contrasted with the vivacious energy of the football match. She leaned against the cool countertop, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions she had experienced throughout the day.

From the anxiety of meeting Kylian’s parents to sitting on the edge of her seat watching as he and his teammates went to penalty shootouts against their opponents, she was so lost in her thoughts she didn't hear him enter the room.

Coming to stand behind Giselle as she stood at his kitchen counter, Kylian wrapped his arms around her, his face seeking out the soft curve of her neck. He inhaled the light floral scent of her shampoo, a mix of vanilla and something sweet that made his heart race. Giselle leaned back into him, her body fitting perfectly against his, and he felt a shiver run down her spine.

“I missed you,” he murmured, his voice low and alluring as he brushed his lips against her shoulder.

“I missed you, too,” she replied softly, whispering between them like delicate silk. The warmth of Kylian's body enveloped her, and she could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing through their shared intimacy.

He tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her closer. The heat radiating off them both magnified the tension in the room. As his fingers teased the hem of her shirt, the fabric fluttered against her skin, raising goosebumps in its wake. She tilted her head slightly, inviting him in further. Her breath hitched as he pressed more kisses against her neck, his lips brushing against her pulse.

“What are you doing to me?” she breathed the question, a mixture of wonder and desire.

“Nothing yet.” Kylian drawled, his lips curving into a smirk against her warm flesh. “I missed your perfect little body,” he continued, his voice dripping with playful seduction as his hands slipped to her ass.

Giselle felt her breath catch in her throat at his words, the heat from his touch seeping through the layers of her clothing and igniting a warmth deep within her core. Kylian's hands were skilled, and it was as if he knew how to elicit every possible reaction from her body.

“How are we going to make this work, considering we live on two different continents,” she smiled lazily, turning her head so she could catch a glimpse of his eyes, sparkling with mischief as he looked down at her.

Kylian chuckled softly, leaning back enough to lock eyes with her. "We’ll figure it out," he said, his tone turning more serious for a fleeting moment. He watched as a flicker of warmth danced in her gaze, and it fueled the fire of desire that simmered between them.

"What does figuring it out mean?" she replied, half-teasing, though the edges of her voice betrayed her. The idea of nurturing something more made her pulse race.

Kylian turned her in his arms, bringing her face closer until their lips were just inches apart again. A warm smile touched his lips as he replied, "It means that whether you are back in Los Angeles or Spain with me, you are mine, and we are building something together.”

Giselle's breath caught in her throat, a mix of exhilaration and nervous anticipation flooding her veins. The intensity in Kylian’s gaze made her heart race faster, igniting a fire that she hadn't anticipated when she arrived at the gathering. This was no longer just a flirtation; there was a promise lingering in the air, a hint of something deep and profound.

“Yours?” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper, almost as if saying it too loudly might shatter the beautiful tension that enveloped them.

“Completely,” he replied, his voice steady and filled with conviction. Kylian's fingers danced lightly along her arms, igniting soft sparks wherever his skin met hers. The teasing touches spoke volumes, an unspoken language of intimacy that made her heart flutter wildly.

She bit her lip, pondering the gravity of his words. The thought of being his—of fully surrendering to this connection—made her pulse quicken, but a nagging uncertainty crept in. “What if it doesn’t work? What if the distance becomes too hard?”

Kylian stepped back slightly, allowing her to absorb what he was saying, though he kept his hands firmly around her waist, grounding both of them. “Then we’ll make it work,” he promised, sincerity lacing his tone. “We’re not the kind of people who give up easily. You know that.”

Giselle felt the reality of his words sink in, and for the first time, the fear that had gripped her heart began to loosen its hold. There was something about Kylian—his unwavering confidence, the way he made her feel like the only person in the world—that made her want to take that leap with him.

“Okay,” she said, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “If we’re going to do this, we have to be all in.”

Kylian's smile returned, bright and radiant, and she felt her own heart lift at the sight. “All in, then. Just us against the world,” he declared, leaning in to claim her lips once more. This kiss was deeper and more passionate, seamlessly melding their desires into a singular, throbbing want.

Giselle melted against him, losing herself in the warmth of his kiss—the way his lips molded against hers, the heat emanating from his body as they moved in perfect synchronicity. Her fingers found their way to his hair, the tapered waves low beneath her fingers.

Every kiss ignited a new level of desire, and when Kylian deepened their connection, pulling her body against his, Giselle felt the world around them fade away. The kitchen, with its innocent trappings and post-match chaos, transformed into a sacred space where only they existed.

“You should be tired,” Giselle whispered against his lips, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, her breath mingling with his in the charged air between them.

“Come to bed me with me,” he drawled, catching her bottom lip between his teeth, his gaze playful yet full of intent.

“Something tells me you don't want to sleep,” Giselle teased, leisurely wrapping her arms around his waist.

Kylian chuckled softly, a deep rumble that sent delightful shivers down her spine. “I don’t. But I understand if you need rest; it's been a long day,” he replied, his thumb brushing against the curve of her waist, teasing her with the thought of what lay ahead.

“Says the man who just played a two-hour-long football match and then entertained half of Paris after,” she countered, a spark of mischief lighting up her eyes.

Kylian leaned in, brushing his lips against her forehead, sending a warm tingle coursing through her. “Come upstairs so I can undress you,” he whispered, his voice a sultry murmur against her skin.

“Only if you go to sleep,” Giselle bargained.

“Fine,” Kylian huffed, tugging her into his embrace so they could head up to his bedroom for the evening.

Despite his apprehension about going to sleep, the following day, Kylian slept in; his body sprawled across the bed as Giselle made sure they both had everything they needed for the time in Nantes.

What started as a trip for Kylian, Giselle, Elise, and Jules had transpired into a larger group traveling up to spend a few days tucked away in the stunning coastal town.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Giselle smiled softly as she watched Kylian stir from his sleep and sit on the edge of the bed.

A low, tired smile crept onto Kylian’s face as he reached for Giselle, pulling her into the fold of the sheets where he could feel the warmth radiating off her body.

“Is it time to get up?” he mumbled, a hint of sleep still clinging to his voice. He buried his face into her neck, inhaling deeply as if he could absorb her essence while he tried to shake off the remnants of slumber.

“Yes, the car will be here soon to take us to Nantes,” she murmured, her fingertips softly tracing shapes on the back of his neck as he held onto her.

Their morning was slow yet intentional, followed by hours on the road that they both used to catch up on sleep before arriving at Elise’s grandparent's house, which was more of a sprawling estate than anything else.

Elise was the eldest daughter of a prominent white French businessman, known for his savvy in the corporate world and a striking Sudanese model who had made France her home. Once gracing magazine covers, her mother transitioned into a devoted housewife, nurturing their family gracefully and warmly. As the oldest of two daughters, Elise held a special place in the family dynamic, guiding her younger sister. Behind her, she also had an older brother, Maurice, who happened to be part of the group spending a few days in Nantes.

Since their introduction years ago, Maurice has playfully revealed that he has a soft spot for Giselle an open secret that had been laughed off by her on multiple occasions.

However, as Kylian watched them embrace he didn't share the same comfort as he previously would have. A mix of possessiveness and realization welled within him, but he swallowed those feelings back, choosing to let Giselle enjoy her reconnection with Elise and Maurice.

As they stepped into the expansive foyer of Elise's family estate, the grandeur of the house took Giselle's breath away. Tall ceilings adorned with intricate moldings and beautiful chandeliers spilled light over ornate furnishings. The space spoke to a level of opulence that Giselle had only seen in movies, and it left her feeling both awe-inspired and slightly out of place.

"Kylian, Giselle! Welcome!" Elise's voice cut through her thoughts as she rushed toward them, her energy infectious. She enveloped Giselle in a warm embrace before pulling back to survey her with an expressive grin. "You look fabulous, as always!"

"Thank you!" Giselle replied, the awkwardness of earlier melting away under Elise's friendly demeanor.

"And you! Congratulations on the win,” Elise gushed as she turned to Kylian opening her arms to give him a hug.

Once the rest of the guests arrived and everyone settled into the sprawling house, everyone went in their own directions seeking a slice of the peace and solitude the estate provided.

Later that evening when it came to sit for dinner, Marcus came and found Giselle and Kylian as they lounged in the conservatory that overlooked acres and acres of field, flirting with his sisters friends as he let them know it was time for dinner.

“She is a handful, no?” Maurice smiled as he reached for Giselle, pulling her body into his so he could wrap his arm around her shoulder, a poor attempt at claiming her in the presence of Kylian.

“Maybe for you,” Kylian responded, a hint of annoyance in his tone as his eyes met with Giselle’s.

Giselle felt a flutter of tension in the air as Kylian’s gaze locked onto hers. A mix of protectiveness and possessiveness danced in his dark eyes. She shifted slightly under Maurice's embrace, aware of the growing discomfort that the playful banter was sparking in Kylian.

Maurice wasn't sure what it was; he'd seen Giselle in a relationship before and even somewhat befriended her ex. But there was something about seeing her with Kylian that conjured a mild streak of jealousy in him.

As one of his younger sisters' closest friends, Giselle had been a presence in his life for a while. But seeing her bond with Kylian ignited something he hadn't anticipated: a profound awareness that maybe he didn't know her as well as he thought.

The was a hold that Kylian had on Giselle that didn't need to be visible or tangible for you to know it was there. A hold that she welcomed and he relished in.

As Giselle glanced up at Kylian, her heart raced in response to the way he studied her, his expression a mix of admiration and longing. It almost felt electrifying, this invisible tether that seemed to pulse between them. She could feel it wrapping around her, encasing her in a warmth that was intoxicating and both terrifying and thrilling.

“Giselle,” Kylian said, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the playful banter. “Are you a handful?” he asked as he held out his hands for her to take, smoothly pulling her from Maurice’s embrace.

Kylian welcomed the challenge of whatever this unspoken dick-swinging contest brought, but he couldn't take a moment longer of watching Marcus with his hands on her.

Giselle blinked, startled by Kylian’s possessive move. The way he wrapped his fingers around hers sent a jolt of electricity racing up her arm, igniting a shiver of anticipation that coursed through her. She glanced back at Maurice, who wore a mix of confusion and annoyance, caught off guard by the sudden shift in dynamics.

“A handful?” she quipped, her voice light yet laced with a playful challenge as she stepped closer to Kylian, their bodies nearly brushing. “Depends on who’s holding me.”

The subtle smirk on Kylian's lips matched the heat in his eyes. “I think I can handle you,” he replied, his tone a delicious mix of confidence and solemnity. The world around them faded into a backdrop as Kylian’s focus solely rested on her, and she felt the air thick with unspoken promise.

Maurice cleared his throat, trying to regain control of the situation. “After dinner I was thinking, we could open the bar and have a little fun, maybe get everyone more comfortable,” he suggested, his voice intentionally casual, though the tension was palpable.

“Sounds fun,” Giselle smiled in an attempt to ease the tension she stood amidst.

“But I warn you, I might be a little too much to handle after a drink or two,” she added, raising an eyebrow playfully at Kylian, her heart racing at the thought of what that might entail.

Kylian’s expression shifted, a spark of mischief igniting in his dark eyes. “I’m counting on it,” he said, his voice dipping low, filled with promise. The air between them thrummed, charged with an energy that seemed to draw them closer, like magnets.

Maurice shook his head, feigning a laugh. “Alright, alright! We’ll see who ends up having more fun later.” But there was a competitiveness in his tone, a desire not to be eclipsed completely by Kylian’s intensity.

As dinner progressed, Giselle found herself glancing between the two men, each vying for her attention in their own unique ways. Maurice was charming and playful, trying to engage her with jokes and lighthearted conversation, while Kylian remained a steady force, his hand on her thigh and his voice low in her ear.

Giselle could feel the tension in his touch, his fingers drawing soft patterns against her, igniting sparks of heat that made her pulse quicken.

“So, Giselle,” Maurice said, interrupting her thoughts as he leaned forward, trying once again to grab her attention. “The weather is getting warmer and the horses are ready to run. I was thinking I could take you for a ride tomorrow morning if you’re up for it.“

“I’m coming,” Elise chimed in, blissfully unaware of the attention, throwing of her brothers attempt to show his hand to Kylian and rescuing Giselle in the process.

Giselle turned to Elise, grateful for the interruption. A breath of relief washed over her, as the dynamic shifted slightly with the arrival of her friend. “A ride sounds perfect!” she exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over. “I haven't been on a horse in forever.”

Kylian smirked slightly, his fingers still resting on Giselle’s thigh, confident in his position.

In truth there was no competition, Giselle wasn't a prize to be won and Kylian knew that. She was a woman with thoughts and feelings who desired to have all her wishes granted and her desires fulfilled.

After dinner Maurice somewhat subdued and sipped on his drink, trying to shake off the sting of loss and being humbled in the process. He watched as Giselle curled into Kylian's side, his lips curving into a smirk against her ear as he whispered into to it.

After Giselle gently urged him to sleep the previous night without any intimacy, and after spending the day being playfully teased by Marcus, Kylian found himself eager to finally let loose his pent-up desires.

He wasn't mad at Giselle, but the most primitive part of him needed to show her that it was him she belonged to, that it was him who could take her to those heights of pleasure she had only begun to explore.

Kylian’s eyes met with Maurice’s as he led Giselle out of the lounge, a tell smirk on his lips as he guided her out the room and to their bedroom, located on the far side of the house.

Kylian was rough in his ministrations as he undressed Giselle before laying her down on the bed and feasting on her until she could no longer even form a sentence, his lips and chin covered in her arousal as he raised his head to savor the moment. He watched her gasp for breath, her body glistening with desire, and felt a surge of power in knowing he could elicit such profound reactions from her.

“I could spend all day in your pussy,” Kylian murmured, his voice thick with lust as he kissed a path from her thighs back up to her stomach. “But you're going to get on top and ride me instead,” he growled, his eyes dark with desire.

She looked down at him, breathless and captivated by the raw confidence that radiated from his every move.

Pulling her into his arms, Kylian flipped them in one swift motion, positioning her above him so she straddled his lap as his cock rested heavily against his stomach.

Giselle felt a rush of exhilaration as she settled onto Kylian, the warmth of his body beneath her igniting a fiery desire. The power of being on top stirred something deep within her, an instinctive confidence that urged her to take control of the moment.

Kylian looked up at her, his expression a mix of hunger and encouragement. "Just like that, beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and husky, coaxing her to move. "Show me what you’ve got."

With a playful smirk, Giselle shifted her weight, feeling Kylian’s hardness press against her intimately. A wave of electricity coursed through her as she raised herself slightly, only to lower herself back down slowly, relishing the delightful friction. She caught his gaze, and the heat in his dark eyes nearly made her shiver with anticipation.

“Tell me how it feels,” she murmured, her voice teasingly laced with breathlessness as she began to rock her hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

“Perfect,” he growled, his hands gripping her hips, guiding her movements while allowing her the freedom to explore. “You feel incredible.”

Giselle's heart raced at his praise, the thrill of being centered in his attention swirling through her body as she took her pleasure deeper into uncharted territory. The way Kylian watched her, eyes glazed with lust, only fueled her actions further. She leaned forward slightly, the warmth of his breath brushing against her collarbone, igniting a spark of desire that spread through her.

“More,” he urged, his grip tightening ever-so-slightly on her hips, a hint of gentle insistence that pushed her to surrender to the rhythm. “Ride me like you mean it.”

The command sent a rush of heat to her cheeks, but she relished the challenge. With renewed confidence, she picked up the pace, her movements becoming bolder, more assertive. Each thrust sent jolts of pleasure coursing through her; with every brush of his cock against her core, she could feel herself drawing closer to the edge.

“Just like that,” Kylian breathed, his voice laced with desperate need. “You’re so beautiful when you’re lost in it.”

Giselle met his heated gaze, feeling that intoxicating mix of power and desire blend into an overwhelming wave of pleasure.

“Put your hands behind your back,” Kylian instructed, a growl ripping from his throat as Giselle obeyed his command, clasping her hands together behind her back as she rode him.

Her breasts bounced softly with each thrust, the rhythm between them growing more frenzied with every passing moment. Giselle could feel the heat pooling low in her belly, igniting her senses as Kylian's gaze burned into her own.

"That's it," he urged, his voice husky with desire, "feel every inch of me."

She relished the way he spoke, the authority in his tone sending delightful shivers down her spine. With her hands bound behind her, she surrendered completely to the pleasure, her body moving instinctively, arching as she sought more of him, deeper, harder.

Kylian shifted his weight, driving up into her with a fierce passion that made her gasp. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy pulsing through her, and she could feel the intensity rising between them. The world around them faded, leaving only the two of them locked in a dance of pure desire.

“Good girl,” he praised, his breath hot against her ear as he leaned forward, capturing the delicate skin of her neck with his lips. His kisses ignited her further, a symphony of warmth and hunger, pulling her deeper into their fervent connection.

As he filled her, a primal need swelled within her, coaxing her closer to the edge. Kylian's hands gripped her waist, guiding her movements with a firm yet tender touch, coaxing her to ride him harder, faster. The sound of their bodies clashing echoed in the dim light,a captivating reminder of their shared passion.

“Don’t hold back,” he urged, his command sending a tremor of excitement through her. “Let me get deeper.”

A single tear of overwhelming pleasure slipped down Giselle's cheek as she surrendered fully to the moment, the intensity of their connection washing over her. Every thrust ignited a fire within, her body responding eagerly to his demands. Kylian's grip tightened around her waist, anchoring her as he thrust deeper, pushing her closer to the precipice of bliss.

“I can feel you in my stomach,” Giselle murmured breathlessly, the words tumbling from her lips as the sensation of him filled her completely. Each thrust reverberated through her, a visceral reminder of their union, igniting a blaze of passion that consumed her every thought.

Kylian groaned at her admission, the sound reverberating through the air like the rumble of thunder, and he responded with a deep, primal thrust that sent her reeling further into ecstasy. “Good,” he panted, his voice thick with desire. “Feel every inch of me, ma belle.”

Unable to keep her hands behind her back, Giselle instinctively reached back, seeking to touch him, to feel the muscles of his body beneath her fingertips. Kylian, sensing her urgency, seized her wrists and guided them back behind her, his grip firm but gentle.

“If it's too much, tell me, and I'll stop,” Kylian whispered, his breath warm against her skin, a mix of power and tenderness that sent a thrill through her.

Giselle shook her head, her determination ignited. “Please, don't stop,” she cried, her eyes locking with his as they glistened with tears. “I want to touch you.”

Kylian's gaze deepened, a blend of amusement and desire flickering in his eyes. "You don't need to touch me to feel me," he rasped, thrusting with renewed vigor, making her gasp as pleasure coursed through her with each movement. It was as if he was determined to make her feel every single aspect of their connection, every intimate sensation pulling her closer to her limit.

“Just ride me, Giselle,” he commanded, his tone a mixture of urgency and control that fueled her.

In an act of defiance Giselle reached up, cupping her breasts as if to emphasize her desire, the weight of them filling her palms.

“Move your fucking hands,” Kylian growled, his voice a low rumble filled with raw need. “I want to see you completely lost in what I’m doing to you.”

Giselle's heart raced at his words, the command igniting a fire in her core. She slowly lowered her hands, but not without a teasing hint of rebellion, letting them brush down her torso before placing them back behind her. Kylian's eyes darkened with lust, his expression a mix of admiration and possessiveness.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his breath hitching slightly as he felt the change in her movements. “Keep them there. Just feel me.”

With her submission evident, she surrendered fully, moving desperately against him, her body craving every thrust as they began to synchronize in a whirlwind of passion. Each powerful motion from Kylian sent electrifying shocks of pleasure coursing through her body, pushing her closer to a blissful edge.

“Can you feel that?” Kylian rasped, leaning close again to share his heated breaths with her. “Can you feel how deep I am?”

Giselle could hardly respond, lost in a blur of sensations. All she could do was nod, her breathless gasps punctuating the air as Kylian's relentless rhythm drove her further into ecstasy. Every thrust was a wave crashing over her, pulling her under, and she reveled in the sheer intensity of the moment.

“You can touch me, baby, I'm yours,” Kylian grumbled as he reached behind her, gripping her wrists bringing her hands to his chest.

Collapsing against him, Giselle’s face pressed into the hard planes of his chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps, a mix of pleasure and a dull ache. The heat radiating from him enveloped her, grounding her in this moment of unyielding desire. She could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek, a rhythm that synchronized perfectly with the desperate movement of their bodies.

“Look into my eyes,” Kylian commanded, his voice low as his movements slowed and he hooked a finger beneath her chin, tilting her head up to meet his intense gaze. The world around them faded even further, leaving only the connection forged in that moment—their breaths mingling, hearts pounding in tandem.

Giselle felt a swell of vulnerability and exhilaration as his deep, dark eyes bore into hers, each flicker of his gaze igniting something primal and powerful within her. “I want you to see how much you mean to me,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

“I see you,” she replied, her voice breathy yet firm with conviction. “I feel you.”

With that, Kylian captured her lips in a searing kiss, one that spoke volumes of their shared hunger and undeniable chemistry. As their mouths moved together, the heat between them ignited into an inferno, a storm of sensations washing over them, intensifying the cadence of their bodies.

“Hold onto me,” he instructed, wrapping his arms tightly around her as he began to thrust with renewed vigor, each thrust deliberate, drawing them both closer to the dizzying precipice they craved.

The sheets beneath them became a battleground of passion, and Giselle felt every ripple of Kylian's muscles as he moved with fierce intent. Each delightful stroke sent electric shocks through her system, igniting the fire that blazed within her.

Flipping the dynamic, Kylian repositioned them, laying Giselle on her back while maintaining their powerful connection. He hovered over her, his presence engulfing her completely, casting a spell that made her heart race even faster.

“Now it’s my turn,” he breathed, his voice a tantalizing whisper that sent shivers down her spine. His gaze darkened with desire as he pushed deeper, taking charge of their rhythm once again. She could feel his weight pressing into her, the heat radiating off his body, fueling her need.

“Please,” Giselle gasped, her hands seeking purchase on his taut muscles, fingers curling and digging into his skin as he thrust with precision. The intensity of his movements sent waves of pleasure cascading through her, every slide of him igniting fire where they connected.

“Please what?” Kylian teased, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk as he leaned down to nibble gently on her earlobe. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to—” but she couldn’t finish, a moan escaped her lips instead as he shifted angles, hitting that sweet spot deep inside her, leaving her breathless with need.

“Want me to what, Giselle?” His voice was a seductive growl, urging her as he continued his relentless pace. She could feel the coil tightening within her, growing tighter with each thrust.

“I want you!” she finally managed to plead, her words tumbling out in a breathless rush, a desperate want mixing with the sweet frustration that hung in the air.

“Good girl,” he praised, the hunger in his voice guiding her deeper into a realm of intoxicating surrender. Kylian lowered himself further, capturing her mouth with a passionate kiss, his tongue intertwining with hers, igniting every nerve ending in her body. Their breaths mingled, a testament to the urgency and need that propelled them forward.

With each thrust, the world around them blurred, and Giselle lost all sense of time and place. The only reality that existed was between them—the undeniable chemistry, the pulsing pleasure, the overwhelming heat. Kylian’s movements were precise and powerful, each thrust sending shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through her.

“Feel that?” he whispered against her lips, his breaths coming in hot bursts as he pressed deeper. “Feel how much I want you?”

“Yes,” she gasped, tilting her hips in rhythm with his, surrendering fully to the intensity of their connection. A flood of pleasure surged within her, intertwining with every deep stroke, and she felt herself unraveling, spiraling towards a blissful edge.

“Look at me, Giselle,” Kylian urged, his command both a plea and a directive. She locked eyes with him, drowning in the dark, smoldering depths that reflected his desire. Those intense, passionate pools of emotion urged her on, igniting her deepest fantasies and making her feel utterly desired.

“Cum all over my cock,” he drawled, his voice deep and commanding, as he landed a stinging slap against her thigh, the sting mixed with pleasure sending her spiraling closer to the edge.

“Please, Kylian,” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

He responded by quickening his pace, thrusting harder and deeper, driving them both closer to that euphoric peak. The intensity was nearly overwhelming; each stroke brought her closer, each movement and every sound melding into a symphony of unrelenting passion. Her body was an instrument, finely tuned to the rhythm they were creating together.

Giselle wrapped her arms around Kylian's shoulders, drawing him even closer as he continued to expertly dominate her senses. His hands gripped her hips, guiding her movements as they danced on the brink of ecstasy together. The sound of their bodies meeting echoed in the dimly lit room, a rhythmic testament to their fervent connection.

Giselle bit down on the column of Kylian's throat as she came, stifling her moans against his skin. The wave of pleasure crashed over her with a force that left her breathless, and she felt herself surrender completely to the onslaught of unadulterated bliss. Her body quaked against him, every muscle tightening as the sensation surged through her, sending sparkles of elation cascading from her core.

“That's it, baby,” Kylian growled, clearly reveling in her release. He thrust into her with renewed intensity, the intoxicating rhythm matching the frantic beating of her heart. “Feel me filling you… feel how much I need you.”

As she descended from the intoxicating heights of her orgasm, Giselle's body continued to respond to him, her senses on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation. Kylian’s powerful movements coaxed her back toward that precipice, driving her into a realm of unrelenting pleasure once more.

“Yes,” she breathed, surrendering to the rhythm, her body arching instinctively on top of him as he filled her deeper, harder, harder still. Each thrust was a reminder of what they had built together—an enticing dance that ignited every facet of her being.

“Sit up,” Kylian demanded, his voice thick with need.

Giselle obeyed, rising up on her knees as Kylian guided her body, anchoring his hands on her hips to maintain control. The warmth of his skin against hers heightened the electricity sparking between them.

“Who do you belong to?” he asked, his dark gaze intense as he watched her, reaching up to cup her breasts.

“I belong to you,” she moaned, the words spilling from her lips as she felt his hands exploring her softness, his fingers teasing her taut nipples. The admission sent a shiver through her, deepening the adding depth to the fiery intimacy they shared.

Kylian grinned, a wicked glint in his eyes as he pressed deeper into her, the rhythm between them increasing once more. “Good girl,” he said, his voice a low growl that vibrated through her.

“I am your good girl,” Giselle moaned, wrapping her dainty hand around his wrist as he held onto her.

“I want to hear you say it again,” Kylian demanded, his voice thick with lust as he continued to guide her movements, driving her further into ecstasy with every powerful thrust.

With each deep penetration, Giselle felt herself teetering on the edge, the primal connection binding them like wildfire. “I’m your good girl,” she gasped, feeling the delicious heat pooling low in her belly once more. “I belong to you.”

Kylian responded with a raw growl, as if her words were the fuel to his own fiery desire. He slid his hands from her waist down to her thighs, gripping tightly, ensuring she couldn’t escape the intensity of their union. “Oui, tu l’es,” he panted, eyes dark with hunger.

Giselle couldn't make out Kylian’s French drawl as her body responded instinctively, rocking against him, seeking out the rhythm that had them locked in a fierce embrace.

“Slow down and look into my eyes,” he growled as his hand splayed low on her stomach, their gazes locked as he thrust deeper, his presence overwhelming her. Every beat of their hearts seemed to synchronize with the intensity of their connection, creating a magnetic pull that drew them closer together.

“Focus on me, Giselle,” Kylian murmured, his voice a rapturous whisper that resonated deep within her. She could feel the heat radiating from him, the urgency in his tone igniting every inch of her being. Each thrust sent pleasurable ripples through her core, awakening desires she never knew existed.

“You're in my stomach,” she moaned, her breath hitching as the weight of his gaze captivated her. The world around them dissipated, leaving only their shared pleasure.

Kylian's smirk deepened at her admission, a mix of dominance and possessiveness sparking in his eyes. “I want you to feel every inch of me,” he rasped, punctuating each word with thrusts that drove deeper, harder, until she was gasping for breath, utterly lost in the moment.

“Yes,” Giselle whimpered, surrendering fully to him, allowing the tides of pleasure to wash over her. The sensation of him filled her completely—a perfect blend of need and fulfillment—and no other thought existed in her mind except Kylian and the ecstasy he was pulling from her.

“Perfect girl,” he praised, his voice dripping with lust as he leaned in, kissing the flush of color that spread across her cheeks. “Tell me I can cum in your perfect little pussy.”

Kylian's hands gripped her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he pulled her down onto him, filling her completely with each powerful thrust. His eyes locked onto hers, intense and commanding, demanding her full attention.

"Say it, Giselle," he growled, his voice low and husky with desire. "Tell me you want my cum inside you."

He punctuated his words with a particularly deep thrust, grinding against her as he hit that sweet spot within her that made her see stars. His gaze bore into hers, unwavering and dominant, leaving no room for hesitation.

"You're mine, Giselle," he murmured, leaning in close so his lips brushed against her ear. "Your body belongs to me. Say it."

Giselle's breath hitched, her heart racing as Kylian's commanding presence enveloped her. The heat of his body pressed against hers, his strong hands gripping her hips with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. She could feel every inch of him inside her, stretching her, filling her completely. His words, spoken with such authority, ignited a fire within her, a desperate need to submit to his desires.

"Yes," she gasped, her voice trembling with a mix of pleasure and surrender. "I'm yours, Kylian. My body belongs to you."

His eyes flashed with triumph, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Good girl," he praised, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "Now tell me what you want."

“Cum in me,” Giselle pleaded helplessly, her arousal leaking from her at the mere thought of their connection deepening even further.

A growl ripped Kylian's throat as he held Giselle still on top of him, his fingers digging into her flesh as he came, warming her from the inside out.

“You’re mine,” he breathed, the final word spilling from his lips like a vow, a promise that trembled in the air between them.

No one else mattered in that moment. Just the two of them, lost in their own world of passion and vulnerability, surrendering to the wave of ecstasy that crashed over them. It was a union built on trust and longing, one that solidified the connection they had forged amid the chaos of life.

As the tremors of Kylian’s release enveloped her, Giselle felt a sense of completeness wash over her. It was raw and exhilarating, the intimate bond they had created transcending the physical realm and pulling them deeper into each other's hearts.

Giselle leaned down, capturing his lips with her own, her heart pounding wildly in the aftermath of their shared bliss. Kylian responded with fervor, his hands gently cupping her face as they tumbled deeper into the moment.

“Are you mine?” Giselle murmured between kisses, opening her eyes to look into his.

Kylian paused, his expression shifting from the afterglow of their passion to one of deep sincerity. “I am completely yours,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

[dumbkiri]

𝕯𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖄𝖔𝖚 3

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Please follow part 3 of Helaena!! AI love the character so much and I find almost nothing of her, the reader and Balerion have me ecstatic too!! You make art! Thank you for your attention :(

Yes! Please have Rhaenys and [Name] kill Aemond in the next part! On my hands and knees begging! Save The Queen Who Never Was!!

I apologize for the dragon fighting. I watched S2EP4 like 5 million times to describe dragon fighting, but my brain no work with that. As stated before, I am NOT familiar with GOT or HOTD (watched in once years ago), this is all made on the fly for a dear reader. So I apologize if it's "stupid" or terrible writing. But I will continue to write this for others that enjoy this series. Thank you for following along on this new journey.

There's also a sneak peek to a Targaryen x Stark story in the future....Sansa deserves love too.

The crackling of fire and the ocean waves crashing at the bottom of the cliff filled his ears along with the breeze combing through his hair. And the voice from the fire, which he normally heard on occasion, had been quiet for a long time. Tonight had to be different because of the strong need to light a fire in the night. 

Before Rhaegar died, the Lord of Light spoke to [Name] many times. Made the father devoted to his children because one of them was going to have a son powerful enough to defend the North from the long night. [Name] thought Rhaegar would have been the one to have that son. 

Obviously, he misinterpreted the Lord of Light. The son could come from Viserys’ line or maybe [Name] would have to have more children with Helaena to secure the prophecy from the god. Still, the voices stopped after Rhaegar. He thought he must have failed the god, disappointed the deity because he did not protect Rhaegar. Or get revenge for his fallen son. 

“I heard that you speak to the fire, uncle.”

[Name] lifted his head from the burning fire and saw Jacaerys making his way over to the edge of the cliff where he sat by his lonesome. 

A chuckle slipped past [Name]’s lips and he swept his legs over the edge of the cliff. “I speak to the Lord of Light, nephew,” His response was quick and to the point. Some people like his brothers described [Name] and Helaena to be odd; one spoke to the fire and the other spoke in cryptic messages. Aegon would tease and say that they were a special couple. The word special did not come from the heart, but Aegon’s way of saying simple. 

“I’m not sure I heard of that god before, it’s not any of the Old gods or even the Seven,” Jace pointed out expertly while taking his seat, the same way his uncle did, the small fire between them. 

“You’re right,” [Name] looked out towards the sea, the moonlight casting a blue hue onto the calm water, “I only experienced his existence in Essos when a Red Priest spoke to me with her alluring tongue.”

Jace snapped his head at [Name] and asked daringly, “Alluring? Did she get you in bed with her too?” 

“What?” [Name] leaned back in offense then looked over at his family member, “I’m hopelessly obsessed with Helaena, Jace. I’m devoted to her and her body, no one else can satisfy me, not that I would want them too.” The man turned to the fire when a stick broke in half. Lead Jace into the fire, let him see. [Name] felt a strong pull at his chest and his eyes drew over to his nephew when he spoke up. 

“So a red woman showed you her god and now you serve him?” 

“That’s not how I started serving him,” [Name] admitted quietly, thinking back to the night of his commitment. The vision he saw in the fire, the voices he heard all convinced him to serve the red god. “She found me tending to Balerion’s teeth after a battle with some assassins. I don’t like the smell of burning bodies, especially ones that linger between his molars.”

As [Name] told his story, the fire subtly grew hotter between the males. 

…

“Open wide, Balerion,” [Name] walked in front of his grumpy dragon with a bucket of sea water and a shirt from one of the dead men on the beach. Balerion huffed into [Name]’s face and turned away from the human with a disinterested groan. 

Reeling back in disgust from the smell, [Name] covered his nose with his forearm and pointed at his dragon with his free hand. Voice muffled, but loud, [Name] shouted, “Where are your manners? I’m doing a nice thing for Dreamfyre and myself! No living thing wants to smell your tarnished breath!” 

[Name] set the pale down and approached his dragon with a tired look on his face. He was warned about traveling to Essos for pleasure, but he wanted to get out of the castle. He wanted to stop hearing schemes and breathe for once. The air he caught flying was enough to fill his lungs and cleanse them. 

Yet one last stop on the beach almost got him killed. 

“Your dragon is very beautiful.” A woman’s voice startled the dragon and the rider, both snapping their heads to see the new person on the beach. She wore a red dress with her long dark hair cascading down the front of her chest. She held no weapon to his knowledge and her hands were placed in front of her. 

Balerion’s throat clicked in unease and he lifted his head off the sand, some grains falling onto [Name]’s defensive stance. 

“Give me one good reason why I should command my dragon not to burn you like I did the rest?” [Name] asked, his bloody hand gripping onto the handle of his sword. Skeptical of the woman, he didn’t let his guard down. If she was the one that sent the assassins, he would drag her by the hair and drown her in the sea. 

The woman in red smirked and answered, “I am not your enemy, Prince [Name]. I came here to help you realize your potential in the upcoming war between your families. You are to be a formidable ally, one that can bring balance.”

[Name] scrutinized her and gently commanded Balerion to stand down. His beast chuffed and set his head down back onto the sand. Then [Name] looked at the bucket of water, dunking the shirt into it. 

In his crouched position, [Name] began his interrogation, “Upcoming war between my families? There is no war, my lady. What are you insinuating?”

He noticed she was staring at his sad campfire and she asked quietly, “Your fire has dwindled, might I rekindle it?” 

“I asked you a question,” [Name] stood up and wringed the shirt of excess water, “answer it.”

The red woman nodded her head and approached his campfire, she messed with the stick and dry grass, explaining, “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, my prince, but your father has passed away. With his dying breath, he told your mother that he wanted Aegon to inherit the throne. She-”

“Aegon?” [Name] scoffed and his face scrunched up in confusion, “That’s not right at all. My father has always wanted my sister to have the throne, for many years he’s always been adamant that Rhaenyra succeed him. Even if he suddenly changed his mind, why would it be Aegon and not me, the oldest, to inherit it?” 

The campfire burst into flames and [Name] looked at the woman who conjured up fire with only her hands. She looked into the fire and said, “Your mother believes otherwise, insisting that your father spoke Aegon’s name. The Hightowers have usurped the throne and war will follow in the days to come.”

[Name] rested his hand on the upper lip of Balerion and paused for a second. Aemond was going to be crowned King, taking the throne away from their father’s true successor Rhaenyra. His mother, Alicent, couldn’t be this dull to really believe he said that on his deathbed. Even when he and his brother were born, Viserys never named either of them heir. 

“My prince, please join me by the fire, I have something to show you,” The red woman’s voice spoke smoothly and [Name] blinked his eyes to focus back onto the beach. As if he was entranced by the color of the fire and the warmth from Balerion, [Name] removed his hand from the dragon. 

He walked over to the woman and Balerion groaned in protest, watching his rider carefully. The beast didn’t trust the red woman yet and it showed when he bared his teeth as the woman reached for his rider. She moved her hands back and smiled at the dragon letting the beast know she won’t lay a finger on his rider. 

“Look into the fire and tell me what you see.” 

[Name] kneeled down on one knee and did as he was told. He felt completely different from the fire. He saw images of a long winter, a sword of fire, a white dragon that breathed blue fire and a boy from his line in the future. Then he saw people made of ice with blue eyes, a marriage with a Stark girl,  and the long night that engulfed the north. 

“Do you see now, my prince,” The red woman whispered in his ear, “you must return home and protect your family at all costs. Protect them so that the Dragon in the North can be born. Without him, the Prince That Was Promised will fall.”

…..

“A Prince That Was Promised, huh,” Jace huffed in question and playfully joked, “If a woman like her whispered in my ears like that, I would follow her god too.” 

[Name] laughed and patted his sword next to the campfire and finished off with, “Then she blessed my sword with his power too. But I believe he wants you to see something as well. Look into the fire, nephew.” 

Jace awkwardly laughed and shifted on the balls of his palms, “I think I’m alright, uncle.” 

“Are you afraid?” [Name] furrowed an eyebrow and smirked, “Don’t tell me the heir to the throne is afraid of a vision in the fire. I suspected my nephew to be braver than that.” 

“Fine,” Jace grumbled and looked into the fire, seeing small embers fly into the dark sky. The seventeen year old only wanted to amuse his half-uncle by doing what he wanted him to do. He had no real incentive to do it, but he was curious to see if the red god was real or if his uncle really was crazy. 

The fire reflected in Jace’s eyes and [Name] saw the twists and snaps in the reflection. Jace’s lips parted open to speak what he saw in the fire, shocked to see the vision come to life in the flames. 

“I see the North, there is an alliance to be made and an oath to keep.”

[Name] hummed in thought while Jace blinked his eyes trying to peer more into the flames. 

“And I see-”

A huge gust of wind blew the fire out as Balerion roared past the men, Dreamfyre tailing her mate close by with a replying call. Jace ducked down immediately while [Name] laughed at the cowering position of his nephew. He fixed his clothing and his hair from the flyby, still laughing at the glare he received from Jace. 

“Apologies,” [Name] cleared his throat and picked himself up from the floor, reaching a hand out to the teenager. “Balerion likes to announce his arrival, I’m sure he didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“You saw him, didn’t you?” Jace asked, taking the offered hand and stood up with the help of it. 

“From miles away,” [Name] answered, a grin on his face. 

Jace wiped his clothes off and sighed, “A warning won’t hurt next time.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” [Name] chuckled and followed after his fuming nephew with lighthearted apologies. 

Jace was soft of grateful to have his half-uncle at Dragonstone for many reasons. He looked up to [Name] when they were younger and admired Balerion from afar, too scared to ever approach the dragon. But [Name] tried to help Jace get over his fear of the Dread. 

[Name] never questioned his or Luke’s legitimacy either, claiming that his twin and younger brother were green monsters. That Aemond envied their claim to the throne. 

[Name] was a role model, perfect son of Viserys the Peaceful. The calm and deadly rider of Balerion. Nothing was truly bad about him. 

“He’s a cunt.”

“You shouldn’t speak that way about him, our greatest ally,” Rhaenyra scolded Daemon, the council members having a small meeting about their newest arrival to Dragonstone. While the Hightower-Targaryens found sleep, the meeting concluded with the Targaryen family. 

“He didn’t even demand my head or retribution for the death of his son,” Daemon growled out. 

Rhaenys shook her head and made eye contact with the ill-tempered man, “No, he barely acknowledged your name. He thinks differently of the whole situation.” 

“How so?” Corlys was also dumbfounded by [Name]’s sudden alliance with Rhaenyra. He also found it odd that [Name] didn’t want Daemon to suffer any consequences. 

“[Name] puts the blame on his mother and her sworn protector Cole for the death of Rhaegar. He sees Daemon’s order as revenge for Aemond killing Lucerys and-” Rhaneys faltered trying to find the right words to describe [Name]’s motive for all of this, “he believes Rhaegar’s death to be collateral. You weren’t after [Name]’s son, were you?” 

Daemon looked around the table and shook his head, “No. Not Rhaegar.”

“So you just proved him right,” Rhaenys continued on, “killing you or demanding any punishment from you will not bring him his son back. He’s learned that from you trying to avenge Lucerys. And he knows deep down that Rhaenyra is the rightful queen. He of all people should know that because he supported Rhaenyra’s claim along with Viserys.”

Jace nodded his head and vouched for his half-uncle, “[Name] has no desire for the crown even grandfather knew that. He never snickered behind my back or saw himself above me, never dished out the word ‘bastard’ like his brothers did.”

“He should hate me,” Daemon spat, “I killed his son!” 

Everyone looked at Daemon with wide eyes from his outburst and Rhaenyra breathed out of her nose. She knew what ate away at her husband. 

“Daemon, we know you feel guilty over the death of Rhaegar. Maybe this is [Name]’s punishment for you, to receive no punishment or consequences. To let you live on with innocent blood on your hands, to let you think of what you’ve done.” 

Daemon looked up at his wife and glowered at her, “If I had Balerion, I would have melted this castle down to its bones, burning every person alive in here.” 

Rhaneys straightened out her back and calmly replied, “Luckily [Name] knows how to use his authority on his dragon.”

Jace watched the back of [Name]’s head as he slowed down his pace to the castle. He didn’t know why, but Jace wanted to. 

“[Name], I’m sorry about your loss. I-I know how it feels to lose someone, not a child, but a brother.” 

Jace saw [Name] stop in his path and the young man turned around with a blank expression on his face. Perhaps Jace should have not said anything regarding Rhaegar, but [Name] spoke up with a soft voice. 

“Aegon wanted me to burn you all and Otto wanted to put the blame on Rhaenyra having the people dub her as ‘The Cruel’. But I know my sister, your mother, she’s just like our father with a bit more spirit in her soul. I could never burn the true successor to the throne and if I have to make my family bend the knee with the power of Balerion, I will.” 

[Name] looked up at the dark blue sky and said, “Rhaegar’s death opened my eyes and I’ve ignored the warnings from the red god. This time I will do anything for my family. Now come on, we can grieve together in the solitude of the castle walls.”

……

The next day, [Name] saw Rhaenyra’s dragon from afar, returning from her sudden trip to who knows where. Balerion noticed the golden dragon in the bright sun and called out in greeting to which Syrax replied with a screech of her own. Smiling softly at the interaction, [Name] commanded Balerion to do one last circle around his area. 

Rhaenyra watched in awe as she rode her dragon, seeing the Dread patrolling the skies in all his dark imagery. Larger than any dragon she has ever seen, she was hopeful that Balerion and [Name] were on her side. Especially after the conversation with his mother. 

She wanted [Name] to join in on the council meeting to discuss what was spoken too. To see if he had any advice of what his family could plan against her. So she urged Syrax to call for Balerion knowing that [Name] would catch on to the call. 

The golden dragon moved her head side to side and let out a high pitched bellow to signal the black dragon to come back. 

When [Name] heard Syrax’s call, he sighed and commanded Balerion to land on the beach where the black dragon made his nest.  Swiftly, he took his black helmet off and began climbing down the ropes tied to his mount. Balerion grumbled then rested his head on the sand with a huff. 

“Get some rest, Balerion,” [Name] took his gloves off next and placed his helmet next to his dragon, “we have tomorrow’s patrol as well.” 

As if responding to his rider, Balerion's chest rumbled in agreement, the dragon closing his eyes for that much needed rest. Although, the black dragon did want to go on a hunt with his rider. 

[Name] watched Syrax fly into the cave and he started making his long trek up to the castle. One of the cons of having a large dragon, you have to walk everywhere because it cannot sleep in a cave with other dragons. When [Name] was halfway to the castle, he saw a familiar red dragon fly out of the cave. 

“Princess Rhaenys?” [Name] mumbled then hurried up the steps to see what was wrong. 

When he made his way up to the council meeting, he spotted Rhaenyra looking pale and solemn. Helaena was by her side nodding to the words Rhaenyra spoke to her. Fearing that Rhaenyra was asking Helaena to fly out on Dreamfyre he interrupted the queen. 

“Your Grace,” [Name] huffed and briskly made his way over to his wife. He set a hand on Helaena’s shoulder and said, “Send me, you promised me that Helaena wouldn’t have to fly Dreamfyre.” 

Rhaenyra moved her eyes to [Name] and shook her head, “I was only giving Helaena some comfort, brother. Rhaenys is flying out to Rook’s Rest to provide backup to Lord Stuanton. There’s a possibility of her encountering Vhagar which is why you need to fly out with her. Now.” No time for goodbyes when Rhaneys was already flying out there. 

[Name] looked down at Helaena and her eyes glistened with a teary goodbye. 

“At once, Your Grace,” [Name] bowed his head at Rhaenyra and planted a quick kiss at the crown of Helaena’s head. Then he turned around demanding someone to give him a horse so he could ride out to Balerion. 

Helaena watched her husband disappear out of sight and she looked up at Rhaenyra, “I know he’ll come back, but…the cost of Rook’s Rest would be far too great. It’s never a good thing to fight amongst blood.” 

Rhaenyra looked away from the entrance and sighed. Helaena was right, odd as she may be. 

……

[Name] had Balerion glide right above the sea water, knowing that if he had his dragon fly any higher than that, they would be spotted quickly. His heart raced in his chest and [Name] prepared his mind to fight his brother, Aemond. His biggest foe and greatest enemy now. 

Aegon would never be on the battlefield just like Rhaenyra cause both parties were too important to be sent to battle. So he willed Balerion to fly faster to help Rhaenys against the green monstrosity that would soon come to Rook Rest. 

Upon seeing the cliff Rook’s Rest was planted on, [Name] saw Meleys fighting a very family light pink and golden dragon. Eyes wide in surprise [Name] urged Balerion to fly faster seeing the blood of Sunfyre rain down on the earth. 

“Aderī, Balerion,” [Name] shouted and the dragon grumbled in response. Then when they approached the cliff [Name] commanded Balerion to fly upwards parallel to the mountainside. The Lord of Rook’s Rest and his men felt a huge gust of wind blow them forward and turned around to see a giant dark beast rise into the sky with a thunderous roar. (qᵘⁱᶜᵏˡʸ)

High in the sky, [Name] spotted Vhagar flying her way towards the engaged Meleys and Sunfyre. “Naejot, Balerion,” The dragon rider growled in frustration seeing the highly focused gaze on Aemond’s face. (ᶠᵒʳʷᵃʳᵈ)

Meanwhile, Aegon held onto his mount hearing the painful cries leave Sunfyre’s throat. His ears shattered upon the noise that brought him sorrow. His mind racing a mile and his heart about to burst from his chest. That was until he heard the greatest roar in history rumble in the sky. His head snapped to the left and he saw Vhagar flying over to him with a determined Aemond on her back. 

“Thank the gods!” Aemond cried in relief, but that relief was washed away. The look on Aemond’s face, it wasn’t a look of help, but a demand for blood and death. 

“Dracarys!” Aemond shouted, the command Vhagar didn’t hesitate to defy. 

Rhaenys and Aegon looked at the impending doom, both bracing themselves for the fire building up in the back of Vhagar’s throat as their dragons fought amongst each other. 

Yet a desperate and willful demand shouted above Vhagar’s gurgling throat, “angōs, Balerion!” The black dread opened his mouth wide, snapping hard onto Vhagar’s flappy throat disrupting the line of fire. Vhagar roared out in pain while Aemond held tighter onto his mount, glaring at his brother who commanded Balerion to fly higher into the sky with Vhagar in his clutches. 

But they were already too close to the earth for the command to have any merit, so he watched. 

[Name] held onto his mount and watched Balerion hold onto Vhagar’s throat, squeezing tighter and tighter. Both large dragons took the show away from the smaller ones and [Name] couldn’t afford to look at Rhaenys when their biggest threat was in his grasp. 

Before Balerion could sustain any injuries from Vhagar’s talons, [Name] ordered his dragon to back away. Not wanting to spoil his attack, Balerion swished his head tearing into Vhagar’s throat a bit more then kicked the green dragon to the earth. Balerion spread his wings wide parallel to the ground and glided over the burning men and fallen dragon with a victory cry, his tail smacking into some men running away.

The Black Dread took to the skies and [Name] turned around to see Sunfyre succumb to his injuries from Meleys. The golden dragon cried out with a high pitched screech before hitting the forest ground in silence and a puff of fire. [Name] cringed and turned away from the tragic scene. This was all happening too fast, Balerion had years of battle experience, but he didn’t. Neither did Aegon or Sunfyre.

Aegon couldn’t have survived that fall, he thought. It wasn’t possible. While distracted, an attack from Vhagar happened upon Balerion who roared out waking up [Name] from his stupor. He looked to his left and saw a small chunk of Balerion’s right shoulder blade in Vhagar’s mouth. 

Quickly he held onto his reins with one hand and the other pulled Hellfire from its sheath. [Name] with strong legs, stood on his mount and began slicing at Vhagar’s saggy skin. The flames ate away at her flesh wounds. 

“Damn traitor!” 

[Name] ignored Aemond’s angered yell at him, for he was too focused trying to get Balerion help. 

“I’ll kill you right here! And force Helaena back home, to fight with her true family!” 

Hellfire burned brighter and [Name] stabbed Vhagar in her puffy cheek. Then he dragged his sword downwards to his mount forcing Vhagar to release Balerion because this fiery pain in her mouth was too much to bear. 

Vhagar bellowed into the ash covered sky and [Name] demanded that Balerion dive down to escape from Vhagar’s talons. With a tactical retreat, Balerion flew away just in time for Rhaenys to strike a critical blow onto Vhagar. 

Meleys attacked from behind and tore at Vhagar’s left wing causing the green dragon to breathe out fire into the sky. The Queen Who Never Was ended Aegon and Sunfyre, and now [Name] needed to pull his weight and end Vhagar. 

 [Name]’s heartbeat echoed in his head and he pulled Balerion back into the fight. If Aemond didn’t bring up Helaena in the fight, he would have left Rhaenys to claim the victory of killing Vhagar. 

But Aemond was his now. Brother or not, you do not threaten his wife. Rhaenys saw the Black Dread making his way over with strong beats of his large wings. That look on [Name]’s face said everything she needed to know and she had Meleys release Vhagar, flying high into the sky to see the end of the Green’s Dragons at Rook’s Rest. 

“Dracarys!” 

His commanding voice sent shivers down Rhaenys’ spine and for the first time, she actually witnessed black fire shooting out of Balerion’s throat. Even at the safe distance she was at, the heat from it was too much. 

Vhagar gave out a defeated bellow falling into the sea like a black fireball. A huge splash resounded in their ears and Rhaneys landed Meleys on top of Rook’s Rest looking down at the burning battlefield. Lord Staunton looked up at the princess and carefully asked, “Is it over?” 

Rhaenys breathed in and out watching the aftermath of four dragons fighting. She and [Name] just ended the war in one battle. Balerion and Meleys, injured yet fearlessly fighting with their riders, ended the lives of two dragons. Suddenly Balerion landed on the burning field and roared at the usurper’s men. 

One by one, men started surrendering with their weapons falling from their hands. Green banners left to be stomped on and she could hear some men whimper at the sight of the victorious dragons. 

“Yes, Lord Staunton,” Rhaneys breathed out, “It is over.” Her eyes dragged over and saw a paranoid [Name] on his mount. She unhooked herself from her mount and Meleys moved a wing down to Balerion's back.

Meanwhile [Name] tried to catch his breath, but his chest felt like it could explode. His grip on Hellfire loosened and he pounded at his heart with an ache. His throat closed up and his vision got blurry. 

“[Name], relax!” 

The adult male blinked the tears away and saw a clear vision of Rhaenys holding onto his shoulders. She must have jumped onto Balerion from Meleys with great expertise. 

“You need to calm down, breathe.”

She softly demanded, her face covered in ash morphed into worry as he said, “My own brothers, I killed them. My own blood.” 

Rhaenys’ eyes softened at his turmoil. “Aemond, you saw him,” She tried to reason with him, “he would have burned Aegon were it not for you. You stopped Aemond and his tyranny, no one would blame you for doing that. And I killed Aegon, not you. You’d be wise to remember that you fight for Rhaenyra’s claim, you support the rightful heir. No one is going to call you a kinslayer.” 

[Name] sucked in a deep breath and his shoulder slug forward in defeat despite winning a great battle for Rhaenyra. This happened all too fast and ended so quickly. Nothing was going to make him feel better right now. 

“Princess Rhaenys and Prince [Name]!” 

A voice shouted from the castle, it was Lord Staunton. 

“The Hightowers have fled with their remaining men and there is no sight of Aegon, but his dragon has succumbed to its wounds. Shouldn’t we chase them down on dragonback and horses?” 

Rhaenys looked back at the male adult in her arms and shouted back, “No! For now, we take this win and wait for Queen Rhaenyra’s orders on what to do next. Prepare Prince [Name] a hot bath and a meal. He fought well against his usurper brothers, it’s what you must do for him. And send a raven to Queen Rhaenyra. We have news to tell her.” 

News, [Name] thought. She didn't describe it as good news for the Queen. His brothers deaths were definitely good news for the blacks. Although for him, it was just news.

...........................................................

MUSIC THAT INSPIRED THIS CHAPTER

There Will Be No Mercy - Ramin Djawadi

Rook's Rest, Pt 2 - Ramin Djawadi

The Red Woman - Ramin Djawadi

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Hi ! I wanted to say I love your work a lot, especially those stories about Tokyo Debunker characters going to the future !! Would you mind doing one with Sho please ?

A bun in the oven

Cw: Hyde slips a future potion into Sho's drink without him knowing, reader described as pregnant

Wc: 1,2K

Notes: if there is something in the new chapter that contradicts anything in here, no it doesn't (haven't gotten around to reading it jiji)

For some reason this doesn't read like I wanted it to but it's kind of cute sigh

Sometimes muscle memory takes over when Sho cooks, zoning out and looking at nothing while cutting vegetables or mixing batter, more than once freaking Leo out at his zombie like state.

It just came so naturally after spending so much time in his hobby, mincing garlic, salting water and reducing the sauce. It isn't until he dips his chopsticks in his mouth that he snaps back.

An horrible itching and burning inside his mouth waking him from his trance. He quickly throws aside the offending chopsticks and hurries to the sink to fill a glass of water.

Without a care, he throws his head as he chugs the water faster than he ever shotgunned a beer. Not even caring to wipe the droplets slipping from his lips to his chin and down his neck.

There is only one reason he would cook something like that, he thinks, god-damned Leo and his hellish spicy things. He always tells him that he won't taste anything but the chili oil and jalapeno but he just rolls his eyes and tells him to do as told.

That damned brat, how can he even eat this bullshit without losing his tongue? Maybe he lost his sense of taste after chewing on his special artifact so much, he insists it doesn't taste like anything but some anomalous chemical in it must have ruined his tongue.

Footsteps sound behind him but Sho doesn't pay it too much mind, must be leo, he thinks while swishing water inside his mouth and spitting it out. The last time he spits it out he is lucky it didn't go up his nose at the unexpected hug. Arms wrapping around his waist and someone's head resting on his shoulder.

A soft voice talks just behind him, the sweetness dripping from it too real to be Leo's “Thanks for cooking for me, love, I know you hate spicy with your whole soul after Hyde tricked you” was that…? If Leo was pulling his leg again he swears to God he will never tell him anything ever. Just one time he tells Leo he likes to spend time with you -maybe a little too much to be like friends- and he has never known peace since. Whenever Leo gets slightly bored his little crush is something so easy to exploit, teasing about white day's gifts, sending him photos of couple's discounts at stores, links to rings with obnoxious remarks like ‘Better hope they have cheap taste’ or ‘your food truck better be making some good revenue otherwise I see it hard. I'm not lending you even one yen’

Ripping him away from his thoughts, the muscles under his skin tremble and shudder as if an electric current went through them as your lips fall just beneath the angle of his scapula, an almost mockingly honest ‘mhwa’ follows as you get away. Luckily you didn't do it as he was pouring the blistering oil in the bowl or when he was cutting the garlic, Sho is sure he would have spilled oil all over himself or sliced his finger open.

“Whatever. It should be ready” he mumbles as he drags the cutting board and pot where the oil was boiled to the sink to scrub them.

Without a peep you grab the bowl and walk off to the kitchen island.

“So how was the truck today?”

“Hyde was hanging around all day and wanted to watch how I did everything, such a nuisance.”

“Like a little kid! Maybe that is why he was so happy at having a nephew, he wanted someone close to his maturity!”

Letting out a small laugh to let you know he heard you, his mind starts chewing and begins to understand what you said. ‘nephew’ stands particularly up, he is Hyde's only sibling, so that would mean… no, there is no way, is it?

And for once, he turns around to see you, not dressed in school uniform and loafers with tidy and neat hair but rather you are on the stool wearing a t-shirt he has been thinking about buying for a few days and your hair on a messy bun. But that is seen as normal over your hand, spotting a ring over the sage's ring, resting over a very noticeably pregnant stomach.

Oh, fuck, it wasn't a prank, that fucking masked creep truly got that damned potion. That is why he was so fucking annoying to get him to share a drink. He should have known it wasn't from the goodness of his heart. Was he getting back at him from when he stole his beers? Immature bastard.

“Huh? Is something wrong” lazily you lean back and look at him wondering.

“... No, not at all”

Leaving the dishes halfway done, he sits on the stool next to yours and stealing glances at you

“baby, he is kicking, have a feel” without giving him a second to pull away his hand lies flat against your swollen stomach, and soon is greeted by a harsh kick from the depths of your body “he is kicking like crazy”

“Are you sure it isn't because… he hates spicy” it takes him a second to not call that an ‘It’. He does like you, maybe enough to have a serious relationship and not just mess around like he always does but it's a wide jump from the ring around your fingers and having a fully fledged family.

“If that was why then your son shouldn't make me crave spicy food!”

“Are we sure it's not Leo's?” He jokes, unsure how to continue the conversation, and gets a smack in the arm while you laugh “hey, I think it's a fair enough q-” suddenly another smack lands on him but this time it's harsher and directly on his face, accompanied by such and annoying voice.

“Shohei-kun~~” his brother is hunched over him and slapping his face, there isn't much worry on his face as annoyance, as if him being out of it because of something he slipped in his drink “finally~♪ I would have thought ghouls have a higher tolerance to potions but doesn't seem like it”

Sho’s hands fly to Hyde's collar, or so he thought, his body must still be halfway asleep given how easily he dodged his grasp.

“No need to get so aggressive so soon! I just wanted you to tell me how your future was going to be but I doubt you are speaking, right?” Wobbly kneeling up Sho only is capable of snarling a string of curses making his brother, who rolls his eyes and helps him up on a chair.

“You should get better in a few minutes, how about you tell me all about your little dream when I come back~?” And hurriedly he rushes out of his own office to dodge a book thrown by his little brother.

Sighing into his arms, it seems that the only way to calm his stomach and stop his head from spinning was closing his eyes and anchoring himself to the desk. Stupid Hyde and his stupid potions.

Cracking his left eye slightly at the buzzing of his phone, he is faced by the only text he couldn't stomach to answer right now. Even a text from Leo or Hyde would be better.

Senpai: Sho, are you fine? I couldn't find you at recess

Senpai: call me when you see this, don't make me worried!!

He should call you but how could he look at you in the eye after that “damned masked freak”.

[phantosss]

some changes i would have made to the characters storylines in tua s4

disclaimer: i am no writer, it's just fun to think about the possibilities. btw anyone feel free to use any of these ideas for fics idc

lila doesn't cheat for starters. instead she and diego have both been secretly doing vigilante missions and keeping it from the other because they think they'll be mad. on one of these missions the two run into each other and rekindle their spark. basically the five and lila story but with diego and lila instead thanks. maybe one or both of them almost die or their kids are put in danger, and they decide to find a much less dangerous hobby, because while its thrilling in the moment they realize they wouldn't sacrifice their family for it

luther is shown to be much more depressed about sloanes absence (if there really is no way for her to come back) but he's trying to hold it together to be there for his family. would be nice if he bonded with characters like klaus, viktor or allison who have also lost their lovers. diego and lila shenanigans means they need luther to babysit a lot and luther finds happiness caring for his nieces and nephew. maybe he also finds a fulfilling job where he can meet a lot of people and help others.

five still finds the time subway but without lila. we get more time exploring the alternate timelines and seeing different ways the apocalypse has happened including ways the other sibs have ended the world. his PTSD and reliving his trauma is also explored. he eventually ends up in the five diner where he's told that they end the world every time but instead of excepting defeat and making everyone sacrifice themselves he finds another way (what exactly that is im not so sure) and becomes the first and only five to successfully prevent the apocalypse forever

allisons relationship with claire and ray are explored more heavily as well as everything she did in s3. i like the idea that she takes care of klaus because 1: hes the only sibling that will still talk to her and 2: because of the guilt she feels after getting him killed. i just wish her arc focused on something OTHER than saving klaus because thats basically all she did this season. would be nice if she spent more time with viktor and luther the two people she wronged most heavily in s3.

i would keep viktors confrontation with reggie but alternatively i would make this reginald umbrella reginald so it has much more weight to it. either that or have viktor express that even though he said his piece toward this reggie he will never actually get closure with their real father and nothing will remove the pain from his childhood. the rest i would keep pretty similar. reginald wants to kill ben and viktor wants to stop him at any cost. viktor knows what its like to be "the bomb" and doesn't want the same thing that happened to him to happen to ben. instead of working together to find ben however they're more in a race against eachother. maybe allison joins him and they make up on the way. i would have liked for ben and viktor to have had a heart to heart in the beginning of the season, maybe about how ben felt like a monster sometimes because of his powers, and viktor relating. idk how this would work with sparrow ben because he doesn't seem to hate his powers the same way brelly ben did but it would have been nice to show another reason why viktor is going through so much trouble to save him. and the ending where he trys to talk him down would be more impactful i think.

for klaus i would keep everything pretty much the same up until he runs into that quinn guy. instead i would have him travel to the subway with five in lilas place. five and klaus' powers are the most mind boggling out of the bunch not to mention time and death are inherently intertwined and this needed to be explored. also, you're telling me klaus literally has the power to talk to GOD and this never has any plot relevance???? klaus should have been involved in finding the solution to the apocalypse imo. also we needed klaus and ben interactions. idk how or when but it NEEDED to happen

ben and jennifer being the catalyst for the apocalypse is making it very hard for me to figure what to do with him tbh. i just wish he had more time with the other sibs and didn't turn into a horrific blob monster at the end 😭he felt less like a character this season and more like a plot device and he deserved to have some scenes that actually fleshed him out. it would have been cool if the reason he causes the apocalypse was actually because of his powers and not just because he happened to be the one to make skin contact with jennifer. i really thought that the twist was gonna be that the squid that jennifer was stuck in was the one that ben summons and that was why they were connected. not the fact that they both just had reactive magic particles in them that anyone could have set off. like what if jennifer being cut out of the squid was what killed ben?

OH! what if jennifer was an eldritch horror from the same dimension that bens tentacles are from and for some reason she wants to kill the brellys/end the world and because bens powers are linked to her she can control his mind ???? c'mon i feel like i've got something here

a have a couple of other ideas but don't know where they would fit in rn so yeah.

[crispy-kitten-princess]

Some fanarts to bring attention to the long post about the books!

Yesterday i had finished the httyd books re-reading (it's been A MONTH), and today i watched the httyd movie for like the 30th time idk (i was really keen of it as a child)

Friendship with movie Hiccup ended, now Tuffnut and Ruffnut are my best friends. They are iconic. I remember book!Tuffnut being kinda sorta a background character, like somebody amongst the Hooligan tribe. And that's the move i liked about the dreamworks version, heh

Longpost and possible spoilers under the cut

Yeah, i loved movie Hiccup and associated myself with him very much... But now, after i reread the books, refreshed my memory about The Ending (and cried my eyes out), i found the movie rather.. strange? It leaves a lotta questions, like the world building, Astrid's behaviour, poor stylistic choise of making her as skinny and wimp as Hiccup, and Stoic s attitude towards his son, like.. stop??? He is an awful warrior ok but plz quit telling everyone around how much you are ashamed of him. Plus i miss Alvin as the main antagonist. He was one of a kind, never saw anyone so persistent to living and killing your distance nephew. And i miss Fishlegs No name as he was so cute and sarcastic. Movie Fishlegs is rather cliched

Weeeeell this whole post exists just bc i love book Hiccup sm AND THE WHOLE STORY AND I LOVE THE FIRST HICCUP AND THE SECOND AND I LOVE FURIOUS AND HIS STORY AND I LOVE FISHLEGS STORY AND DEADLY SHADOW AND I ADMIRE VALHALLARAMA AND CAMICAZI AND CHINHILDA AND TANTRUM and i miss them and i want to share my love for the books with everyone around... But amongst all my friends i don't have somebody who would've read the YA fantasy book about a 10-15 yo viking boy and his tiny arrogant dragon, and i would not either if i had not became a fan at my 12-13s by absolute chance. This is insane. I love my fixations (that's the whole point of fixating) but it hurts that I can't share it, and even if i try to explain to one of my friends who are ready to listen, I can't tell why exactly would i cry for half an hour about the children's book ending where OMG the dragon died, no waaay

I really wish it were a cartoon series based on books specifically, bc that way i could show them to my friends, which is waaaay easier than making them read the books (which is impossible, i tried). But ig.... It would stay a wish forever

I wanted to tell something about the books again. Why i like them so much? But i get too emotional about them and can't muster up ANYTHING. What CAN i say??? They are good. They are perfect. Cressida Cowell made a great job. The slightest gradient between the first and the last book makes the neighbour books in the series feel alike, but the first and the last are nothing like the other. The first is really a cute local story. WHILE THE LAST IS ABOUT CHANGING THE WORLD AND WHOLE NATION. This is incredible

Myself, i like the first 4 or 6 books more. They are so funny! I read them just for fun. But when i do, i just cant stop. And as i proceed further, the world changes, and the Fate follows the main character with a knife of misfortune (i wish i could play with English words as i do in my native language lol) - or good luck! Who knows, when you survived so many terrible moments, are you extra lucky or the exact opposite?

The first books don't even have in them the main thought of the last - dragon slavery. Or do they? Now, when i think of it, i do recognise the abuse and unappropriate attitude towards dragons, like foreshadowing... It's hard to tell if Cressida planned it all from the beginning or expanded the world as the books went further and further. Anyway, the first book os nothing like the last. The last is insane

I hate the book series endings almost every time, but not in that case. No. No. No. This one is solid perfection. It is logical. It is mature. And most importantly, it is painfully realistic. That's what broke me. The realism of the ending, where the magical creatures have to vanish from the human world just to save themselves. It is common for books like that to end with death of all magical (like it dies when we grow up, blablabla and so on) and it is the story of maturing, but that is not all. It matches with our world, where all living things die away and vanish eventually, if they are not significant for human race survival... But in our case they will never ever return from some North fields or sea hollow. Abused animals have neither intelligence to speak for themselves nor some kind guy to save them. Theme of war and death is extremely actual rn too. And i was devastated when the peace was established and shortly after that Furious died 🤪🤪 amazing, thank you. It killed me when he said that he was dead for all these years, and lived again only after Hiccup III spoke to him and returned him to his right mind

This is a mess I'm sorry 😔

I remembered now that it supposed to be a post bout the movie I've just watched. Well. The movie's best part is that it brought my mother's attention to the book series,, i was obsessed with the movie therefore she gifted me the books, and i became so obsessed with them that she even yelled at me for rereading them so frequently, lol

I can't say anything about the movie. I have no thoughts. I guess i just re watched it too many times as a kid to feel anything anymore. It didn't work with the books though. Reading them again 6-7 years later the latest reread, as an adult, i figured out that they aged extremely well. I found inspiration in them. I'm lost in thoughts about them. I want them to be more popular and well-known. And i hate fucking live action movie btw if you even care 😘💅 not to think about all of the resources that could ve been put in use to make cartoonish HTTYD books real

Plz, if you came that far, reblog or comment with something thoughtful, it would be mush appreciated

Upd.: this one is obvious but I loveeeee the trope. When Hiccup went on the impossible journey of Training His Dragon Toothless, he learned how to deal with arrogant, whining, lazy people. He learned how to be a a leader who listens to his followers, a teacher, a mentor to all the crazy arrogant and wild viking nation, and that is why the title of the book focuses on Training your dragon

I'd looove to hear everyone's opinion about the series. Plz share yours!!! I love you fellow httyd fan

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

By fire and heart Pt 7.

Daemma Targaryen. Second daughter of King Viserys and queen Aemma, you're the living portrait of your mother with the character of a true dragon, as a second daughter you don't have right to the throne but certainly, you will protect your sister's succession by heart.

Warning ⚠️: Credits of this images goes to whoever they belong to, most of them belong to the TikTok user ccarmyy! Grammatical and spelling errors, maybe this won't be good enough but In my head the story was a good one, it's a long chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Pt 8 is here

It wasn't easy to be in the north, it took you time to make the northern people trust you, but you were persistent, you show that side of yourself that not many people are allowed to see.

You still remember those days involving yourself with the work around those lands, visiting every house in the north to learn about all of them, meeting every lord, by the end you arrived and stayed with the Stark's.

Lord Stark fell quickly for you, not only for your natural beauty and intelligence but also your bravery, your combat skills and your kindness. The rumors about a romance between you and him ran quickly around the kingdom, none of you neglected them, because in fact it wasn't a lie, you and him were more than friends, you proposed to him a future marriage alliance with the only condition to keep the promise of supporting your sister which he joyfully accepted.

The memory lives for free in your mind, you remember every detail of it.

The library was warm, empty, only you and him, sitting in front of the smokestack, he was holding your hand in his when you talked.

«My Lord, I think it's very clear that the north has become my home... I wish to stay, and for that I propose you a marriage alliance»

«Go on, tell me, princess. Between who this marriage would be?»

He was smiling brightly and playfully to you, you returned that smile while rolling your eyes.

«Don't play with me, Lord Stark, you know I talk about me and you»

He left a quick peck on your lips.

«You honoured me, my princess. I will gladly accept your hand and your conditions, but I only have one condition...»

«Tell me, Lord Stark, I'm all ears.»

«I love the free spirit of my warrior princess, having said that, my only condition, is to get married at the time my princess decides.»

Those words sent shivers, you felt your cheeks turning red, he always has been a gentleman, you would renounce your freedom in a good way if it's him who will be your future husband.

Since then, You won the loyalty and heart of the north and with that you knew you would have it at your side whenever you needed.

Your dragon, whitefyre, seems to be pleased being in the north which is almost impossible since Dragons are looking for warmer places, you started to think maybe your destiny was there, perhaps that's the reason why your dragon looks like a snowflake, white scales that shine like diamonds and can easily get lost in the clouds.

In your dreams, you saw yourself flying over the north, those lands bathed in Snow, you saw yourself running through the forest escaping from the flames of your own house, sometimes you saw yourself with a crown over your head but some others you saw yourself burning alive. Of course you never talk about what you see in your dreams because that's all they are, just dreams, but lately you've seen them becoming real, a living proof of it, your dark haired nephews, the fire and the death of some people around you, so it's a constant bug in your brain, you wonder which part of your dreams will be true, you try to have as many interpretations as possible.

You heard the news about the sea snake, badly hurt, the fever attacking him and with that, his brother Vaemond ready to feed himself with the bones of his poor brother, he always wanted to control his house.

Your aunt, Rhaenys put him in his place informing him about Corlys leaving the succession to his grandson Lucerys Velaryon. Clearly it makes Vaemond drawn in his own rage.

You haven't seen your home in a while, you don't receive letters from no one, you sometimes feel like they forgot about you and you prefer it that way, you feel free, unfortunately your happiness can't last forever.

«Dear sister, I hope deeply and sincerely that your stay in the north has been pleasing. I would wish to have more time to write about how much I've been missing you, but we will have plenty of time for that later. The succession of my son Lucerys as the next Lord of Drift mark has been put in doubt, by extension I fear Jace and mine too. I'll need you at home, Rhaenys had to fly to Kingslanding, let's hope it is not to support Vaemond's claim. We will need people to support and defeat your nephew's claim.»

You didn't waste time, you left the north the same day your sister's letter arrived, before leaving you informed Lord Stark that you will announce to the king about your engagement.

The skies of Kingslanding are empty, there's no cloud at the sight, and the warmth of the weather hits you, you land at the dragon pit, the trip to the castle is short, your guard was already waiting for you at the principal door, his face shows how angry he is.

- What is it, Sir? Is there a problem?

- I apologize, my princess, but there's no one who could attend your arrival.

You laugh, clearly no one would be there waiting for you, you take it as a sign that you're not so welcome at home anymore.

- It is fine, we didn't inform them about my arrival. Let's go to find out where they are.

Your guard nods and walks at your side, on your way you can see empty halls, you can barely recognize your home, there are no more Targaryen symbols in the walls, not even the colors of your house.

The few people you see on your way simply smile at you, some of them stop to talk with you, a little conversation and finally one of them talks about the entire court at the training yard watching a prince practicing with the sword.

- Did you hear that, Sir? I think we can take this as an opportunity to catch some attention to the real Targaryen family.

- I follow you, my princess.

And as your informant told you, almost every person of the court was there, some of them were immersed in the friendly sparring while some others noticed your presence. You approach as close as possible to the people who were fighting.

A young silver haired man with a patch over one of his eyes, he's fighting against a guard. Your common sense tells you it's Aemond and Criston Cole.

- My sword, please.

You demand to your guard.

- My princess, I think is not the right time, you're wearing a dress.

- It will make it more interesting and the young prince will look ridiculous after I win.

Not so fine with your idea, your guard gives you your sword. You can see him praying the gods to keep you safe.

You jump in the middle of the men, in a quick movement you send to the floor to Sir Criston making him lose his balance, he doesn't stand up to fight you, he simply makes himself aside.

Aemond is not surprised, he quickly goes against you, the dance of swords, punches and kicks last a few minutes, until you're on the ground, your guard tries to go and help but you ask him to stay in his place, Aemond smiles at you, his sword and yours is close to your throat.

- Give up, dear Sister.

- Never.

He uses more strength and the swords are more and more close to you. Your other hand holds the other side of your sword, you feel the cut but you don't care, you can feel the warm blood running down, Aemond sees it and the strength decreases, that's your chance while he pushes himself back you hit him in the abdomen, he falls and his sword is far from him, you jump over him, now it's your sword against his throat.

- Give up now.

He doesn't say a word but smiles at you with his hands up. You stand up and take a bow to all the lords and ladies who were observing.

«I hope you enjoyed the show, my lords and ladies.»

Your guard quickly has a piece of cloth to cover your bleeding palm. You Walk away, there's dirt on your dress, your sword has fresh blood too but you're happy with your demonstration.

You were passing by in front of a window when Suddenly you saw your sister's carriage.

You walk quickly, almost running and then you hear one of the guards announcing her arrival.

- Welcome home, Rhaenyra!

You yell as soon as you see her, you approach her, her pregnancy makes her look more beautiful than ever. You're hugging her tight when the voice of your uncle fills the silence.

- Daemma, it has been a long time.

- Uncle.

You walk to him and hug him, the scent of his hair always was your favorite, oak and mint leaves. The boys and your uncle's daughter received a quick hug from you.

- I have to warn you, our house is not anymore Targaryen territory. There's green everywhere, it's disgusting in my opinion.

- Aunt, Why are you so... Dirty?

- Your hand is bleeding.

Lucerys and Jacaerys observed and questioned you.

- I was in a friendly sparring with a certain prince. I'm fine, I think he's still practicing at the training yard.

Once inside, you, your sister and your uncle went directly to your father's chambers.

The smell of sickness fills the room, there's a lot of incense, and the room looks sad and dark.

- Father?

Your sister asks. You can see the silhouette of a thin body laying on the bed.

- Who's there?

- It's me my king, Rhaenyra.

- Rhaenyra...

He repeats almost in a whisper, exhausted.

- Yes, I'm here, with Daemon and Daemma.

- Dae... Daemon, Daemma... Daemon. Help me to sit, please.

You and Rhaenyra help him to sit on the bed, Daemon looks at his brother, your father looks like a walking skull, his skin is almost grey, he lost some teeth, for a moment you feel like the worst daughter, you left and never came back, his health is worse than ever.

- it has been a long time...

Your uncle Starts to talk about Corlys Velaryon and the war at the step stones, the petition about who will control drift mark. You want them to stop and not fill his head with all those problems, the poor man is living for miracle, he doesn't even stand up from bed without help.

- Alicent and Otto, attend those business.

- No, brother, listen to me, you have to position at Lucerys side so he will be Corlys successor.

Rhaenyra took his husband's shoulder, she also feels like it's a lot of information for the man.

- Father, there's someone we wish you met.

This takes you by surprise, the servants come in with two baby boys, silver hair, chubby and beautiful.

- Father, Daemma, this is Aegon and this is Viserys.

Two beautiful babies, you smile at everyone in the room, those babies are the most beautiful thing you've seen, the boys started to cry while your father started to groan in pain.

- I'm sorry, please, hand me my tea.

Daemon quickly gives him the tea and as soon as Viserys finishes it, your uncle takes the goblet and smells it. Meanwhile you feel like you already had enough of it. You've seen a lot, you can't tolerate one more second of your poor father's suffering.

You excused yourself and waited out of the room, you felt nauseous, the air was heavy, your lungs needed more and more oxygen.

One of your maidens sees you and runs quickly to you.

- Welcome home! Can I help you, my princess?

- Yes, please prepare me a bath, I'll be there soon, thanks Dalilah.

Your maiden leaves while you take some air, minutes later you walk to your dorms.

Dalilah is waiting outside of your chambers.

- My princess, your bath is ready but... you have a visitor in your chambers.

- Thank you, I'll attend our visitor, don't worry.

Once in, you see the thin male shape sitting on a chair.

- Aemond, what do I owe the visit?

- Why did you come back, Daemma?

You walk around your room without paying him enough attention, you're thinking about what to say, you will not speak about the real motive of your visit.

- Why do you care, dear brother?

- It seems like you're here for our nephew's business, Lucerys...

- What about Lucerys? Is he hurt?

Aemond stands up quickly and takes your arm to make you confront him, face to face, too close.

- Don't try to fool me, Daemma.

- I'm not. I really don't know what is going on with him, I haven't talked to them in years. It's a coincidence I arrived at the same time as them, can you believe that?

He leaves your arm but doesn't lose his distance with you.

- Let's suppose I believe you, then What are the reasons for your visit, huh?

Looking at him so close he looks very attractive, his jaw and his thin lips, the scar that patch can't hide well, he has a mysterious aura, you like how dangerous it feels to be in the same room as him, the adrenaline running through your body.

- Perhaps I was missing my home, perhaps I came back because I have duties to attend.

- What kind of duties?

- Marriage.

You said without thinking about it. He gives a step back and has a little smile on his lips, he observes you carefully and then looks at the books placed in a small table at your side.

- Marriage? Did you finally find a good suitor?

- That's none of your business, Aemond. I already told you what am I doing here, now I'm asking you to leave.

You're acting offended as if his question was the worst thing in the world. He silently nods and walks away. Once your door Is closed you undress yourself and get inside the bathtub, the scents of berries and forest filling your lungs it's relaxing until you hear a noise.

- Dalilah, is it you?

No response. You hear someone sobbing softly. You ask again, «Who's there?» standing up from the bathtub, carefully taking your bathrobe and looking for something that can help you to protect yourself.

- If you don't answer, I'll call the guards.

Suddenly, a young man with silver messy hair, puffy eyes and a red nose is standing close to your bed. He observes you as if you were a ghost.

- Well... Hello stranger.

You speak again. You can't recognize him. But he looks attractive.

- Daemma... Is it really you? You...you Don't recognize me anymore?

He finally answers you, but not even his voice is familiar to you.

- Who... Are you?

- Aegon.

Both are standing there not knowing what to do. In the blink of an eye, Aegon walks to you, his arms are around your body and his face hidden in your neck. Seconds later you react and return the hug, he looks like a man now but he is still that little young boy you left a long time ago. The hug took you by surprise but it is a good sign, maybe after all this time away he still has strong feelings for you, you can play and twist him as you wish.

- Oh my sweet brother, I apologize, I couldn't recognize you, look at you, you're a man now.

- When did you arrive? Why no one told me?

He says without leaving his place between your jaw and neck.

- I arrived today, I didn't announce I would come home.

Your sweet and soft voice on his ear has him In a rollercoaster of emotion, he doesn't want to leave your body, you put your arms down a long ago but the poor man still can't believe you're there, you feel his bulge growing in his pants and pressed against you, that's when you step back, pushing him a little.

- Let me see you well, you have changed a lot these years...

Smiling at him, You place your hands on his face, one is caressing his cheek, the other is busy running your thumb through his lips and jaw, you're acting fool but you really know what you're causing him.

He hides his desire with his hands over his pants, his look is full of sadness and nostalgia. Before your hands can leave his face he catches one of them and leaves it there in his cheek.

- I thought you would never come back...

- Hmm, I thought the same. But here I am.

- Why?

- Hmm?

- Why are you here?

- Perhaps I couldn't handle being far from home anymore... Or perhaps I'm here because of that duty I've been avoiding all this time.

You turn your back at him, walking to the wardrobe, you take one of the dresses there and before you start to dress you ask him to not look, he turns his back, you know there's a small mirror and he will have a small view of your body, just the exact amount to be sure he will be in the palm of your hand again.

- What duty?

- Marriage. Since the queen informed me about your wedding and your two children, I finally accepted I needed a husband (...)

He's lost in thoughts not paying enough attention to what you're saying, observing you through that small mirror, drawing your body shape In his mind, the locks of your hair, the moles on your back.

- Aegon?

- Uh? What?

You laugh when you realize he wasn't paying attention to you.

- I was asking you if you can help me with the buttons of my dress, please.

He clears his throat and walks to you, he has trouble to button the dress.

«It is easier to quit than to put it...»

He murmur. You don't say nothing, you're observing the big mirror of the wardrobe door. He's being careful, as if touching you would make you vanish.

Once he finishes he looks at the big mirror, it is a nice image, you and him, together, in the same space, close to each other.

- We could be good for each other, you know...?

You break the silence and he places his jaw on your exposed shoulder and simply sighs in agreement. You're not saying the truth, you know you wouldn't tolerate him much, you've heard he drinks a lot, he spends most of his days swimming in wine and spreading his seed in every woman he sees.

- But I suppose I will have to be satisfied with one of your brothers or perhaps an old fat lord... We will know soon.

- What?

- It has been so good to see you again my sweet prince, but I have some visits to pay to the queen, the hand and the king if it's possible, you know, to see what we will do with my marriage.

You don't give him a chance to speak and walk out of the room, you were passing by for your father's chambers when you heard the voices of your family and the Queen's voice. You stopped and stood close enough to the door.

You smiled when you heard your uncle talking about the poor welcome they had.

You opened the doors as soon as you heard your sister, questioning the queen about who will decide the inheritance of your nephew. The three of them just looked quickly at you and continued with the conversation.

Before Alicent leaves, you stop her.

- Alicent, I would like to discuss some things... With you and the hand of course, since my father is... Unavailable. I hope I can talk with both of you before dinner.

She nods and quickly leaves the room. Once all of you are alone, the first one to question you is your uncle.

- What do you want to discuss with those snakes, Daemma?

- My marriage.

Both are quiet, no one expected it. You scoff.

- What? is it so hard to believe?

- Who's the man, Daemma?

Rhaenyra is speechless but your uncle demands answers.

- As you know I've spent most of my time in the north. I proposed a marriage alliance. Between me and Lord Cregan Stark. He will support Rhaenyra's claim.

- What are his demands in exchange for his loyalty to me, Sister?

- Not many, At the moment, he only asked to marry me until I decide when the right time is.

Your uncle doesn't look pleased, he never thought you would be married, he always told you no one would be good enough for you. You try to find more arguments that could please him.

- The north is an enormous territory, full of strong houses who would follow the Starks without hesitation. I think it is a great opportunity for us, to have the north on our side.

- But will you be happy living there, sister?

- I will... I am now and I'm sure I will in the future. But I have to act quickly, if Father approves and announces my marriage before dinner, that's why I am here right now, I want to talk to my father. Alicent and Otto will not have a chance to act or go against the king's wishes. That's why I planted the seed of a meeting with them, I will cancel my meeting at the last minute, they would be wondering why or what I wanted to discuss, eventually my father will announce it.

After some more minutes discussing, they leave you alone with Viserys. The announcement of Vaemond Velaryon was in everybody's mouth.

«Father?»

You whispered a couple times before he could make a sound. With difficulty he opens his eye, instantly putting his hands over his head.

- What? Who... is... it?

- I'm... Daemma, Father.

- Daemma? Oh... my girl... You're the living portrait of your mother.

He painfully tries to laugh.

- Yes, dad... it's me. I have some news for you.

- What... happened?

- I... I will get married, I found the right man, Father.

- Did you? Who is him?

- Lord Stark, father.

- An... honorable man. Good for you my girl.

He's starting to close his eyes again and before he falls you speak again.

- Dad, listen to me, I need you to announce it soon...

- Why?

- Because...

You don't know what to say, what would be enough reason for your father to agree to your wishes.

- Because I love him and he loves me, Father. I love him as you loved my mother.

You actually don't know if that will be reason enough, you don't know if you love the man in that day, in fact, you're wondering if it's love in the romantic way or merely the kind of love you have for a good friend

- My dear daughter... Oh...

The pain is coming back to him, you quickly take the cup with poppy milk. He drinks a little and lays again.

- Daemma...

- Father.

- I... I give my approval to your marriage. You... you have... My... Blessing.

- Thank you Father. I would be so happy if you announce it soon, Would you?

Heavily breathing, coughing he agrees, you can't be sure about him announcing your marriage, but you hope at least he can inform it to the queen and her father. You stay at your father's chambers, just observing him, occasionally he talks to you, things with no sense, sometimes he confuses you with your mother, or Rhaenyra, even with Helaena, but you don't care, you feel guilty for leaving him here alone for so long.

Meanwhile, Alicent, the hand and Vaemond are discussing the succession of Drift mark. While Rhaenyra and Rhaenys are talking about alliances.

You're tired of them, allies and arrangements, you sometimes want to fly away, follow Laenor steps, yes, you know about what actually happened to him, your sister told you and some days you really want to do the same but you made a promise, you promised to protect your family.

You were leaving your father's chambers when Rhaenyra came in. She doesn't say anything to you, she simply walks to Viserys.

They talk about Aegon's dream, the song of ice and fire, about to keep the kingdom safe against the enemies. You're not understanding why is she so anxious, talking to him desperately, until she finally says he separated the kingdom when he named her his heir.

- I thought I wanted it. But it is a heavy... Too heavy.

You hold her hand, you never thought about how hard it was for her to be the next In the throne.

- If you wish me to bear it, if you wish Daemma stays at my side in this... then, defend us and my children!

She broke into tears, sobbing, crying in exhaustion. Both left.

The king and the hand are in the daily meeting, usually they're short, the hand informs, the king barely listens. Today the vibe is different.

Your father demands dinner with the whole family. Greens and Blacks together with the living corpse of your father. Will it be the right thing?.

The day it is full of anxiety, you're nervous as much as your sister, overthinking about what could possibly go wrong today.

You have your sword and your dagger with you, maybe it doesn't help to hide how nervous you feel.

Once In the iron throne you feel your body burning in anger, Otto Hightower, sitting on it.

Vaemond Velaryon is the first one to talk, arguments of how it is unfair to leave such a land in the hands of a kid who hasn't been raised there. Same blood as Corlys, an authentic and immaculate true Velaryon.

He's talking about the legitimacy of your nephews and your sister can't contain herself. Defending Lucerys, allegations about how he only cares for himself and his own ambitions, the Queen's intervention gives more confidence to Vaemond.

You're observing the young man at the Queen's side. Aemond observes you too, he looks at you from head to toe, while Aegon looks occasionally to you and your sister.

You were remembering the previous moment with both, you admit they're handsome in their own way, you imagine how it would be to be with any of them, a carnal desire appeared inside you.

Your sister starts to talk when the door of the hall opens.

«KING VISERYS OF HOUSE TARGARYEN, FIRST OF HIS NAME, LORD OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS AND PROTECTOR OF THE REALM!»

Everybody watches your father walking, he walks slowly, observing everybody, he walks to the throne, once there he simply looks at Otto Hightower.

- I'll sit on the throne today.

- Your grace.

Otto leaves the stairs of the iron throne, your father is using all his strength to walk, one of the guards walks to him to help but your father rejects his help.

The crown falls and your uncle runs to help his brother, with the crown in his hand, he slowly and carefully helps Viserys, once his sitting, your uncle puts the crown over your father's head and goes back to his place with your sister.

- must admit my confusion, I don't understand the petition to a succession previously settled. The only person who knows the desires of Lord Corlys is the princess Rhaenys.

- Indeed, your grace.

She answers instantly. Walking in front of the king, talking about Corlys and his desire to inherit his place to Laenor's son, Lucerys Velaryon and her following her husband desires.

Suddenly the unexpected news, about her agreement of your sister's sons and Corlys granddaughters arrangement marriages takes everyone by surprise.

- Well, it's settled... Again. Prince Lucerys of house Velaryon is named heir of drift mark and next lord of tides.

Vaemond can't believe it, he can see his plans drowning in the deep of the sea. He will not let this pass, he starts to talk about how your father broke the laws naming your sister his heir, now doing it again with the future of the Velaryon's house.

- (...) I will not allow it.

- Allow it?

- As I will not allow you to disrespect my father in my presence, Vaemond.

You speak, with your sword in hand, but your uncle takes your forearm and neglects. Your father speaks again

- You're forgetting your place.

- THAT! IS NOT A TRUE VELARYON!

- Leave, you have spoken enough.

Your sister says to Vaemond who's pointing at Jace and Luke. You place yourself in front of them.

- Lucerys is my legitimate grandson, you're no more than a second son of Drift mark.

Vaemond spills his poison around everyone, your uncle is only waiting Vaemond's exact words that will allow him to finish that man.

- Say it.

Daemon murmurs. Vaemond doesn't care anymore about his place or who is he talking to.

- Her sons are... BASTARDS! and she is... A whore.

Everybody whispers, while your father stands up from his place, but in less than a second.

Daemon cuts Vaemond's head.

- He can keep his tongue.

Blood splashes a few people, and a bunch of guard are around your uncle. Your father feels the pain again and Alicent and you run to help him.

- You have to take something for the pain, husband.

- Daemma, your engagement... Your marriage...

- it's okay father, We'll take you to rest, we can discuss that later.

Alicent looks at you in confusion while you decide to act foolish. As if nothing happened, the dinner arrived.

«You don't drink enough» «and you drink more than a Lord of Braavos» «i drink the right amount »

You were talking with Helaena about her children, telling her you bought some presents for them, while she was talking to you about some strange insects she has. You always thought Helaena was a sweet girl, a dreamer as some Targaryen are, too good for a world like this.

Suddenly, your father appears. Tired, but he refused to cancel the dinner with the family, everybody took their seat and you were in the middle in front of your father's chair.

It is an uncomfortable moment, but your father is unaware of it.

- it is an occasion to celebrate... it is a lot to celebrate. My grandsons engagement with their cousins and my Daughter's engagement...

- Congratulations, dear Niece. I hope you have a happy marriage and a happy life ruling the north.

Daemon says loud enough, so everybody can hear it. Alicent looks at her father, both are clearly surprised.

While everybody drinks, more and more toast to everyone's little achievement, you hear Aegon bothering Jace.

- I'm very sure Jace knows how to treat a lady, Brother, there's no need to...

- Or maybe should I explain it to you, sister? After all, you will get married soon, you will need some lessons.

- Keep your tongue when you talk in front of my aunt and my betrothed.

The conversation ends when your father stands up and speaks again, talking about the distance created by all of you. Suddenly everybody wants to talk and make peace, but you feel like it's impossible, everybody has a lot of hate and sorrow inside them, a dinner will not fix what years of secrets and treasons created.

Helaena talks about how Aegon doesn't pay her enough attention or shows affection to her, and while for her there is nothing to worry about, the rest of the family feels sad for her.

- I suppose, in the end, you don't know how to treat a woman either, brother.

You whispered to Aegon. He rolls his eyes and continues drinking. Jace takes Helaena to dance a little while the rest is eating and talking. Your father leaves the dinner before all the mess. Because just as you predicted, when everything looked bright and peaceful, the dinner ended in a mess.

- A final tribute, to my nephews, Jace, Luke and Joffrey, each of them, Handsome, wise and strong...

That was all, the dinner ended in punches and fights, Rhaenyra and Alicent exchanged some words in a friendly way after the fight, but the damage was already made.

You were in your dorm, ready to pack your clothes, Dalilah was preparing you a bath once she finished, she helped you to pack some dresses and the left.

You were brushing your hair before getting inside the bathtub when you felt someone behind you, you barely looked at him, was Aegon.

- Don't you knock on the door anymore?

- I used the hidden halls.

- You and Aemond cannot cause trouble, huh?

- It was Aemond, I merely helped him, it was unfair, Two against one.

He walks to you and starts to unbutton your dress, you don't complain about it.

- You said horrible things too.

- If you talk about Jace I was just joking.

- How dare you? talking about how to treat a lady, when you treat Helaena in that way!

You stand up abruptly and walk creating distance between him and you.

- For your information I know how to treat women... When I have affection for them. Helaena doesn't love me, and neither do I, we don't have nothing in common.

- I'm glad Lord Stark is a gentleman who can treat me as I deserve.

You say while you tie your bathrobe and then Aegon makes you face him, holding you by your shoulders.

- What do you mean, Daemma?

- I'll just say he pleases me in more than one way.

That hurts him, your words hurt. You're quiet, observing him, there's something about his face, maybe his chubby chin, or his pink lips, maybe his sad puppy eyes, the dark circles around them, his silver messy hair, something about Aegon makes you strangely weak, you feel that desire coming up to you again, Aegon stares at your lips then to your eyes and once again looks at your lips.

From one moment to another, his lips collide with yours, you hesitate but soon you melt in the kiss, you feel the warmth between your legs while he presses himself on your body, you break the kiss before something else can happen.

- This is not fine, you have to go Aegon.

He kisses you again and you break the kiss again.

- Daemma, please. We both want this. You want me and I want you.

- No, we... I can't! Now leave.

- You know it sister, deep inside you, you know we belong to each other Daemma, you've seen it in dreams just like me, we're destined to burn together.

- Leave, Aegon, just... Leave.

He disappeared in the shadows of the room and For the first time in your entire life you experimented with the desire, the need of touching and being touched, the space between your legs aching and pleading to be filled. You took your bath and dressed up, you wouldn't stay another night. You felt the big wall you built before crumbling with that kiss with those words about dreams, you needed to forget about it, you needed to remember who you were and focus on what you promised years ago.

You left that night on your dragon, flying right back to the north. Without a clue of what would come.

Your poor father, a dreamer, a king who kept the peace while he was sitting on the iron throne, he died the same night you left your home.

That same night, your sister's right to the throne was stolen from her, with that many lords who accepted your sister's claim, died or became prisoners forced to change their loyalty or lose their freedom or... Their heads.

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part ten)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.6k summary: the final resolution, at a funeral, of all places.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, minor character death, topics of grief, alcohol consumption, mentions of blackmail, use of pet names, — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

a note from me: hello friends, it’s been a while. apologies for the radio silence and for living this fic unfinished until now. life just happens and surprise, i had a whole ass baby last year (call me mother). postpartum is not easy and it especially has not been kind on my mental health, so i took time to get my pink back while taking care of another human. i appreciate you sticking with me and being patient - this is for you!

“This is all my fault.”

Unsurprisingly, Eddie blames himself. He always does. Even if he isn’t the one to be held liable. Call it insecurity, whatever. Eddie Munson just believed, from a very young age, that he was a walking magnet for all things unlucky.

Certain events occurred for no reason the brunette could explain, other than there being an unknown higher power had it out against him, which he’d often say to Wayne in hopes of some show of sympathy or a lesser reprimand. And even though, for the most part, Wayne agreed with his nephew, there were certain tricky situations for which the young Munson boy only had himself to blame. „Bad decisions lead to bad outcomes”, Wayne would mutter at the dinner table as Eddie sat, a bag of frozen peas pressed to his swollen eye. 

His luck had briefly changed once he accidentally became friends with Chrissy Cunningham.

The preppy blonde offered him kindness — not something he’s been privy to before, especially not from the Hawkins upper class. Chrissy didn’t care about his upbringing, his social status, living conditions, or his style. She stood up for him in front of the rest of Hawkins’ finest on more than one occasion, pure acts of heart that to this day many of the townsfolk believe cost the cheerleader her life.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie exhales, then repeats, “this is all my fucking fault.” Panic detectable in the sound of his voice.

“Stop that,” Marianne insists in a whisper, eyes focused on the rockstar as he paces, hands deep in the pockets of his black tailored trousers. 

He sighs. “If I had never gotten involved—”

“Eddie, I mean it.” Marianne cuts in. “This is most definitely not your fault and none of the people gathered here today believe that it is.” She tries her best to reassure her favourite client. “I know that may be hard for you to believe considering what you told me recently…” 

There’s a pause.

“No one thinks this is your fault, Eddie.”

“She does,” the rockstar says simply, ending the conversation. He then pushes through the double doors that lead inside the church.

The silence inside is agonising. Almost suffocating. Patrons dressed head to toe in all shades of black, staring blankly ahead at the altar. Staring at the open casket which was surrounded by floral arrangements made from dozens of white roses.

Eddie looks ahead, toward the front row, where the family is sitting. Your family. From oldest to youngest, all of your siblings, shoulder to shoulder: Caroline, Valentine, Amelia, and little Jonah in your father’s arms. Your mother is a little removed. She’s at the end of the row and by the way her body is shaking, Eddie can tell she’s crying — understandably so.

There’s a lot to be said about death. Eddie knew that first hand. 

Chrissy’s death, for example, was an event that forever changed the trajectory of his miserable life. The accusations, the mob mentality, all of that was the push the brunette boy needed to finally get out of town and make something of himself. Escape. Although, it could have gone either way. He knew that, he wasn’t a complete idiot. It took a long time for the rockstar to come to terms with what happened that night. And even now, years later, Eddie knew that back in Hawkins, he’d forever be blamed for something he didn’t do.

“None of the people gathered here today believe that it is.” Marianne’s words from just moments ago echo in his ears as he desperately tries to get a grasp on his feelings.

This was the third funeral Eddie has ever attended. Second, if you count the fact that the boy was far too young to remember that of his mother’s and it’s not like Wayne ever shared any details. Actually the first funeral because although Chrissy’s burial was a day the brunette rockstar could never forget, he wasn’t entirely welcome there. That didn’t stop him, of course. He did not make his presence known. Instead, Eddie hid between the trees at the cemetery, watching from afar. 

Seemingly, the entire town was there which made the young Munson boy angry ‘cause these people didn’t care for Chrissy. They were all phonies. Acting like they knew her when in fact, if asked, they wouldn’t even be able to say what her favourite colour was. Eddie knew her. He really knew her. In fact, Chrissy told him so many times. “I think you’re my only true friend, Eddie.” She admitted one afternoon. “You know, it’s quite lonely being the most popular girl in school. With you though, I don’t feel so alone.”

The memory makes his heart hurt. More so because it’s been locked away for years. Hidden in a metaphoric box that the rockstar swore he’d never reopen. Recently though, considering the circumstances, Chrissy has been on his mind a lot more. Her big blue eyes, her bouncy blonde ponytail. Her smile, her laugh. The sound of her voice. Her kind heart. Recently, Eddie’s been thinking about his friend quite often. Thinking about how he wasn’t allowed to say a proper goodbye.

Goodbye…

“What are you doing here?” 

His head snaps up at the question, brown locks bouncing with the sudden movement. He quickly looks around, but no one else currently inside the church seems to be paying attention to him, or to you. And you… You’re staring at him, waiting for an answer. 

“I-I came to pay my respects.” It seems rather obvious, although maybe not.

All you do is nod. 

Eddie notices how you’ve been crying. On instinct, he reaches for your hand. He wants to offer you comfort. Some solace amongst all of this sadness. To his surprise, you don’t pull away. In fact, you allow your fingers to tangle themselves amongst his and when the rockstar squeezes, once, gently, your whole body seems to relax.

“I am truly sorry for your loss.”

You respond with a timid smile. It’s not much, but it’s all you can muster. 

Thursday, October 14. Time? 9:27pm. That’s when you got the call. Your strangely composed father broke the news. An accident. You could hear sirens in the background. He was driving. Someone ran a red light. He was okay. Time seemed to slow as he continued. “Sweetheart, your Nana… Can you pick up your mom and meet us at the hospital?”

The older woman had never looked so frail. Bandaged up. Connected to all sorts of wires and tubes, monitors that beeped so loud you thought your brain was going to explode, machines that were essentially keeping her alive. Your Nana’s eyes were closed when you walked in and for the next three days. You took turns sitting by her side. Talking to her, reading her favourite gossip columns, Val even repainted her nails while Caroline always made sure her hair was brushed and perfect.

News of the accident spread. The hospital room quickly filled with bouquets of flowers and various ‘Get Well Soon’ cards — one of which was signed by Eddie.

Once he heard about what happened, the Corroded Coffin frontman dipped early from his own album release party to fly back to New York as fast as he could. Yes, your grandmother has made it nearly impossible for him to be with you, but at the end of the day, she was still your family and you were undoubtedly hurting. Setting his own feelings aside, he wanted to be there for you. Simple.

If you weren’t at the hospital, you were curled up in bed, crying into Eddie’s chest. 

Then you got the call.

Your Nana was awake.

Doctors later explained her sudden surge in energy as terminal lucidity. In the moment however, no one questioned the miracle that brought her back to you and your family. No one batted an eye. Just happy to see her eyes open and hear the snark in her tone of voice. If only for a few hours, she was back to her old self. 

“I’m going to get some more coffee.” With a gentle squeeze to your Nana’s hand, your mom exits the hospital room leaving you briefly alone with the matriarch of your family.

There’s a split second of silence during which you contemplate telling her how scared you were that she was going to die, but you stop yourself because there’s no need to burden her mind with such horrific thoughts.

Although, your Nana seems to read your mind.

“Please don’t fill your pretty head with worry,” she says reassuringly, “I know I gave you all quite the scare, but it’ll take a lot more than some car crash to take me out.”

“Don’t joke like that.” It comes out rather flat.

“Then smile for me, my darling.”

You abide by her request, lips twirling upwards for your Nana to see. She mirrors your expression and for the next twenty seconds, all is good again in the world. She really wasn’t going anywhere. You didn’t have to be scared anymore.

“Now that we got that out of the way,” she says matter-of-factly, “This little accident I found myself in did force me to rethink my behaviour with regards to a few things.”

You shake your head. “You don’t have to do that here.”

She ignores you. “I do have to, and want to, come clean about something I did.”

With a swift exhale — for added courage — your Nana spills her shame. Once you hear Eddie’s name escape her tired lips, you sort of black out. Only hearing fragments that don’t entirely make sense to you. Something about bias and her distaste towards the metalhead. Chrissy Cunnigham. The blackmail. The breakup. Your breakup. There’s puzzle pieces missing. Yet even without the borders, even through the haze of the moment, you got fragments of an answer to why Eddie ended things that second time. 

The woman you cherished, the woman you had to thank for your entire career, was unfortunately the same woman who came between you and happiness. She made a choice for you. A choice that ended with you bed bound for weeks. Heartbroken. A recluse.

As she squeezes your hand, through tears in your eyes, you ask her if it was worth it. Forcing Eddie to hurt you like that.

Unfortunately, you never get an answer.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. The room fills with doctors and nurses faster than you can realise what’s happening. They’re asking you to move out of the way, so you do. You stand at the wall, arms tight against your heaving chest, and you watch, terrified, as the professionals do everything in their power to keep your grandmother alive.

But the beeping doesn’t stop. Not exactly. Instead it slows. Flatlines. 

At some point, your mom had returned to the room. She’s panicked, asking what happened. You don’t know what to say, pushing yourself further into the wall behind you, hoping it would swallow you whole — it doesn’t. 

Chest heaving, you don’t know how to act, what to do. In the blink of an eye, the space of a single breath, your Nana passed away. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening. “She was fine”, you find yourself saying, but no one is listening. The nurses unplugging her lifeless body from all of the machines, while the doctor speaks with your mom, calmly explaining what could’ve caused the sudden change in your grandmother's state.

“She was fine,” you repeat, but don’t move from your spot. Instead, you close your eyes to hold back the tears.

The sadness was imminent. The anger however, well, the anger overwhelmed you.

Your Nana, this human you idolised for your entire life, the person who helped you and shaped you into who the world deemed worthy, the woman who always had your back, turned out to be a liar. She was no better than any of the other leeches who had befriended you only to mooch off your success. 

Whatever her reasonings were at the time, she put your happiness aside by threatening your career. Something you’d never thought she’d do. And what was worse, she made a decision for you, then kept it a secret for months on end. 

Her and Eddie.

The rockstar is waiting for you when you get home — like he has been every night since the accident. You find him in the kitchen, cooking. He turns when you walk in and immediately drops the wooden spoon in his hand, wiping his fingers on the denim of his jeans before pulling you into a hug.

Eddie is the epitome of comfort, that much you’re sure of. But you don’t immediately return the embrace because your mind is confused. He lied, in a way. He said he wasn’t the relationship type and that’s the reason he can’t be with you officially. Now you know that’s not entirely true.

The Corroded Coffin frontman senses your apprehension, though before he gets a chance to ask what’s wrong, half formed sentences are spilling from your mouth into the crook of his neck.

“She’s dead.”, “She told me—.”, “The blackmail…” , “Why didn’t you?”, “She died— She died before I-I could get the full story.” “Eddie, what the hell—”

You pull away slowly, then wipe your eyes with the sleeves of your cashmere sweater. Eddie’s hand travels to your cheek ‘cause he doesn’t want to let you go, afraid that if you take even one step away from him, you’ll never find your way back.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he whispers and you nod. “And I’m sorry for all the lies.”

“Eddie—”

“Please,” he interrupts, “I-I promise I will explain everything to you, but right now,” the rockstar pulls you in for another hug, “you should get some sleep.”

You nod against his chest and let him lead you across the apartment, towards your bedroom. Like a knight in shining armour, Eddie helps you into bed, taking off your shoes in the process and placing them gently at the corner of the bed. He covers you up with the soft duvet before closing all of the blinds and making himself comfortable next to you.

Before you know it, your eyes are closing. You let tiredness win.

When you wake up, some fourteen hours or so later, the Corroded Coffin frontman is nowhere to be found. Just a note on your bedside table with the words, I’m sorry. I swear I’ll explain my side of the story in time, but right now, it’s best if you’re with your family. I don’t want to get in the way of your family.

Fuck him.

-

“I am truly sorry for your loss.” Eddie’s words are sincere, you can tell by the slight tremble in his voice. “She may not have been my biggest fan, but I know she loved you.”

“I doubt that.”

He shakes his head. “She loved you, that’s why she did all that she did.”

“You promised you’d explain.”

“I don’t think this is the time—”

“It’s never the right time with you.” You say harshly while looking away, at the crowd of people that knew your Nana at one point during her adventurous life. “Excuse me,” you add without glancing at him again and walk in the direction of your family.

The service is beautiful. 

You fight back tears throughout, knowing that there’s always someone lurking, trying to catch you crying for a picture they can later sell to the tabloids for hundreds of dollars. And you do a good job hiding your emotions because that’s what you were always taught to do in public situations. Taught so by the very woman your family was mourning today. You feel her presence strongly in that moment, as you bite the inside of your cheek. You can hear her voice inside your head, telling you to straighten your back and hold your head high, “Never let them know what you are thinking.”. Instead, you’re trying your best to focus on the eulogies. 

Your father speaks first. With your little brother steadily in his arms, he reads a letter written by your mother, who was too distraught to come up and read it on her own. His pace is slow as he enunciates every single syllable — something he only ever does when he’s angry or sad. When he’s done, he looks at your crying mother and mouths, I’m sorry, I love you, before stepping off the altar and letting your older sister take his place at the stand.

“My grandmother was a remarkable woman.” Caroline clears her throat into the microphone. She’s equally as composed as you, although the smudged mascara in the corner of her eyes gives away tears she shed before the funeral started.

Caroline continues, “She led an amazing life, although not without its challenges. She overcame it all with grit and wit — qualities she tried to pass onto us, her grandchildren.”

She pauses. Almost as if she’s hesitant to keep going.

“I’m sure each and every one of you here today has a story to share on how my grandmother touched your life. She was a friend to all and an enemy to some.” That earned my sister some laughs. “Her priority had always been our family and now that she’s gone, we definitely feel a void. I for one don’t know if I can still be the same person I was when she was here.”

Caroline finishes with a prayer. She then strides towards the front aisle and retakes her seat next to you. She squeezes your hand, sympathy and encouragement, as you take in a deep breath and stand. 

Everything feels in slow motion during the fifty-odd seconds it takes you to stand where your older sister just stood. You retrieve a piece of paper from inside the sleeve of your couture black jacket and lay it flatly in front of you. The words blur in front of your eyes but only for a split second. “Never let them know what you are thinking.”, and so you don’t.

“Our parents give us life. Our grandparents give us a sense of who we are and where we come from,” you begin. “This week, as we said goodbye to my dear Nana, it hit me how incredibly lucky I have been to have her, not only with me, but as an integral part of who I’ve become in my life.”

“Without my Nana, I’d still be singing Dusty Springfield in my bedroom. I wouldn’t know how to play any musical instruments and the poems I’ve written over the years, well, they’d remain just that. As the incredible matriarch, the regal leader in our family, she pushed all of us grandkids to strive for greatness. Without her, we’d be just another family. Faces lost in the sea of New Yorkers. I know I speak for all of my siblings when I say that thanks to our warrior Nana, we learned who we really are and we are able to live our lives without—”

You pause and look up at the crowd, your eyes first landing on the front row, your family, then further, until they meet a certain brown pair. Eddie offers an encouraging smile and even though there are many things running through your mind about what he and your Nana have done, your lips tilt upward to return half the expression.

“We can live our lives freely,” you change the sentence before continuing, “And even though she’s no longer with us physically, I can still feel her presence. She’ll be with me forever.”

As you wrap up your eulogy, the piano begins playing soft notes of You Decorated My Life by Kenny Rogers. Your father stands along with five other men and they take their place by the casket, lifting it carefully then carrying it out of the church.

-

“Your eulogy was really beautiful.”

Eddie’s voice breaks you away from your thoughts.

The rockstar is leaning against the doorframe of your teenage bedroom, where you’ve come to hide from all of the people gathered in your parents house for the wake. There’s a shaded smile present on his face, kindness behind his eyes. You instantly feel warm.

“It’s hard to be angry at someone who’s given you so much.”

“So you’re just angry with me then?” He probes, stepping inside and gently kicking the door shut with his heel.

Shaking your head, you say, “No, I’m not angry with you, Eddie,” then sigh, “I think I’m just disappointed.”

“That’s probably worse,” he admits.

You pat the blanketed spot next to you, inviting him to sit down. He does so without hesitation and when his arm brushes against yours, you instantly lean your head against his shoulder. 

“I just wish you trusted me enough to tell me the truth. Allow me to make my own decision.”

Eddie nods. “I get it. I guess I was just scared you’d think I was making it all up, trying to paint your grandmother as someone she isn’t.” 

For a moment, it’s quiet. The afternoon light seeps in through the half-closed curtains, offering a glow that you’ve only ever witnessed in Eddie’s Hidden Hills home.

“Why did you leave that night? When she died, I woke up and all I had instead of the person I really needed beside me was a sorry excuse for a note.”

He doesn’t immediately answer and that frightens you. A thought crosses your mind that he’s still hiding something — which would be crazy since it was your Nana who seemingly orchestrated everything.

“Yeah, that was an asshole move on my part.” He admits, “I uh, I was scared that when you woke up, you’d be twice as angry about this whole debacle with your grandmother that you wouldn’t let me tell you my side of the story.”

“So, your gut instinct was to run?”

“Always is, sweetheart.”

You scoff. 

“I wanted to give you the space to grieve and understand your own emotions first before I loaded more shit onto you,” Eddie says honestly.

There’s a split second of silence.

“Can you tell me everything now?”

“If that’s what you want.”

You lift your head, tilting it so that your eyes catch his. 

“I want to move on with our lives and that can only happen when I have the full picture.”

Eddie raises a brow. “Our lives?”

“Yes,” you say, taking his ring-clad fingers in yours, “Ours.”

-

“That’s the moment I really knew I can never let her go again,” Eddie says, hand on your thigh.

The interviewer clicks her pen, satisfied with all of the information the two of you have given her over the last few hours. She lets out a content sigh to prove as much before leaning forward slightly, over her crossed legs. 

“I gotta say, you guys are my favourite Hollywood couple.”

“Thank you,” you say with a smile, then glance at Eddie. “We also think quite highly of ourselves.”

“That we most certainly do,” the Corroded Coffin frontman agrees with your sentiment and beams at you affectionately. Your heart soars.

It has been almost one whole year since your Nana passed and you know she’s rolling in her grave ‘cause of how much you’ve accomplished with the rockstar by your side. 

After the funeral, Eddie agreed with Marianne, his label, and most importantly, his bandmates, to stay in New York while you finished filming for Law & Order. He took the occasional trips back to the West Coast for photo and video shoots along with management meetings, but for the most part he was by your side, day and night. He came with you to set, championing you on this new journey from singer to actress.

When filming for your character wrapped, you packed a big suitcase and joined him on tour. You’ve never really gotten to go on a road trip. Whenever you went on tour for your albums, it was from the private plane to the venue to the hotel, repeat, repeat, repeat. Being on a tour bus with Eddie and his friends, in a different American city every other night — all while getting to watch Eddie do what he does best, on that stage, in front of thousands of screaming fans — was somewhat also a dream come true for you. 

During that time, you finally met Eddie's uncle, Wayne. He came to the show in Indianapolis, watching the performance with you from backstage. Afterwards, Wayne spilled about one thousand secrets and stories from Eddie’s childhood. Some heartfelt, some more delinquent. From the time young Eddie broke his arm while trying to save a stray cat from a tree, and the countless times a teenage Eddie would sneak out to sell weed at rich kids parties.

You fell for him harder then, and even more with each day that passed.

Months later, when the Assistance is Futile tour had its final show in Los Angeles, you told Eddie you weren’t going back to New York: “If you’ll find space for me in that big mansion of yours, that is.”. The brown-eyed rockstar smiled wide at your words, then said: “Our mansion, sweetheart.”.

While you brushed up on your acting skills, landing more and more television and movie roles, Eddie got to work on his third album with Corroded Coffin. That’s when he found the notebooks. Lyrics for songs the two of you had written during your summer together, before your grandmother meddled and it all went to shit. He brought them to you, a twinkle in his eyes.

“I know you’re transitioning away from singing, but hear me out…”

That’s how The Popular Kids was born. Corroded Coffin’s third studio album, with one twist. You.

Which brought you both here, to the interview at Eddie’s Hidden Hills home that has, over a short period of time, also become your home.

“Well, it was great to chat with you two today. Get to know you a little more intimately,” the interviewer says, “Your entire relationship has been very secretive up until this point.”

“Well, this business can be quite cut-throat and there’s very little privacy, which we know is what we both signed up for when we first got into the industry,” Eddie begins, he’s unbelievably natural, he’s made for this — being a star, “The little things, well, we just wanted them to be between us.”

The interviewer nods.

“That’s a little lie, no?”

“What do you mean?” You ask as innocently as you possibly can, because even though you’ve shared a lot of stories today, you haven’t given the whole truth. That remains between you, the rockstar, and your Nana (God rest her soul).

She doesn’t push, quite unlike any other journalist that you have ever come across. Instead, she says how a photographer will be over tomorrow for the shoot and reconfirms that you’ll be the cover of the October issue. 

Eddie sees her out and when you’re alone, he asks if you’re happy that you two did this.

“Apprehensive, sure. But yes, happy.”

“Good.” He leans down to plant a kiss on your temple. “I’m happy too and the world deserves to know just how happy you make me,” he adds while trailing kisses along your cheekbones and down your jaw.

You smile. “I don’t think they should know that much.”

“No?” Eddie’s teasing.

“Some things are better kept private,” you murmur into his ear, “Like how you corrupted me at that pool party.”

“And I’ll continue corrupting you for as long as you’ll let me, sweetheart. Getting under your celebrity skin until the end of time. That’s a promise.”

celebrity skin. masterlist

thank you to all that have been following this story from the beginning and to everyone that has come along the way — i appreciate you more than words can say!

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie , @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @ohmeg , @hereforshmut , @eg-dr3amer3 , @rexorangecouny , @morganlolitta , @littlexdeaths , @bl0ssomanddie, @doritodynasty (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

[sillygoofyqueer]

Ough, I don't have much to offer, but I miss crowyuan (rereading everything in that tag rn)

Do Crows and snakes get along? I wonder how crowyuan will interact with tianlang-jun & his nephew...

Also, the old palace master! With how... creepy his character is, and how strong crowyuan's wifebeam seems to be in this verse (damn peak lord catnip lmao), I can imagine him doing some veeeeery unsavory things, if you wanna have fun with that (that post abt Yuan's wings being crippled was so TT, god damnit old crook)

Anyw, just throwing out some ideas, if you ever wanna come back to it. I see your current hyperfixation seems to be wangxian lol. Not many thoughts on that since I haven't read the novel, but looks fun

This is just so sweet...I'll respond to it ahead of the other ones, just because I was like "AWHHH" as I was reading it. Honestly, my hyperfixation is always wangxian, nothing is as strong as them in my mind - you should totally read MDZS....it's so good....it's the best MXTX series in my humble opinion- *gets shot* ANYWAY!!! First off, I have actually done a post about how Crowyuan would interact with Zhuzhi-Lang and Tianlang-Jun!!! You can find that here, but thinking about it generally (and doing a bit of research), I've got a few things that I'd like to highlight about how crow demons and snake demons would interact generally. Did you know that crows actually eat snakes in real life?? I certainly fucking didn't until I was like "yo how do they interact in real life?" THEY EAT THEM. CASUALLY. Honestly, crows are just out here eating predators like it's NUTHIN'. Anyway, applying this to Crowyuan, I've decided that crow demons and snake demons would have a very...strained relationship. Unlike the underwater demons (because I've decided they're very similar to how I portray them in the Leviathyuan AU), ground demons are all squaring up and ready to fight to the death over a murdered demon, so of course these two groups are very at odds with each other - I mean...crow demons probably feast on snake demons like they're a gourmet meal. However!! I feel like this is probably from before Crowyuan came into the equation, so like the basis of life that he starts with. AFTER he comes along, I like to think he (along with Shang Qinghua who was a *checks notes*..chicken demon?) manages to bring in a new age (generally, because you can't change everyone's views) where crow demons and snake demons have a better way of dealing with this. Snakes are a large source of protein for crows in real life, so I don't think that Crowyuan would be like "stop eating snake demons," I think it'd be more of a "hey why don't you eat the already dead ones, instead of the alive ones?" and, after a lot of talking with snake demons, they manage to bring a lot more of a relaxed relationship between the two groups. HOWEVER!! That doesn't mean that they're chill. Crow demons still find joy in fucking with snake demons - like, in real life, how crows disorient snakes through loud cawing, swooping around near the snake, and just pecking on their tails sometimes. Crow demons have this sort of spiritedness to them when they come across snake demons, and snake demons try to steer clear of snake demons because they're so annoying. AND THE OLD PALACE MASTER!!!! If, if, he wasn't almost instantly killed off or stuck in the lowest levels of the abyss, I feel like he'd see Crowyuan (of all kinds) as a sort of trophy or weapon that he needs to get his hands on so he can use this demon - who everyone seems to love?? He just wants the power and control that comes with owning this demon, he's disgusted by Crowyuan himself. Despite his disgust, of course, he would flounce Crowyuan around to events bedecked in garish gold, but would probably keep him in the Water Prison behind the scenes.....BEFORE, of course, he's killed off or stuck in the lowest levels of the abyss. So, there are some thoughts I came across while reading your ask, I hope that helped out with the drought of Crowyuan upon my blog right now.......READ MDZS SO YOU CAN ENJOY MY OTHER AUS!!! /silly/silly

[infinity-or-oblivion]

heyyyy realm nation I have an au for y'all: arranged marriage foolhalo. now hear me out I'm thinking longgggg history of conflict between warring kingdoms (think montagues and capulets) I'm thinking fundamental moral differences that make peace nearly impossible I'm thinking innocent people caught in the crossfire and most of all I'm thinking doomed yaoi. foolish and bad hate each others guts so intensely and somehow have so much in common and I just think forced 'romance' is so fun. anyways foolish is the eldest prince of his family which includes ros and owen and clown and tango and perhaps sneeg and phil and then bad wants to strengthen their kingdoms alliance so he marries foolish except they HATE each others guts and bad’s kingdom/family of pili and pangi and hannah and baghera all keep attacking foolish and his family

okay so that was my initial idea and then I started thinking about the kingdom of fools found family dynamic (because I watch almost exclusively ros pov btw) so here's my pitch: eldest prince foolish and his siblings are Owen, clown, and ros. that’s all i really want tbh BECAUSE LIKE THE DYNAMICS ARE SO GOOD I WANT SOME FAMILY CONFLICT THAT IS ULTIMATELY ROOTED IN LOVE IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK FOR

so like: middle child that often feels slighted owen, sometimes feels threatened by more talented clown, foolish who cares about all of them so much but he’s stretched thin and can’t do everything himself, and of course. clown and ros my beloveds, baby of the family ros, and all of her brothers love her and feel very protective of her. but sometimes she feels like she doesn’t add as much to the kingdom since she’s more of an artist than a fighter, and also others see her as a weak point, and sometimes she doesn’t get the support and validation she needs from her brothers (except clown??) and of course then there’s clown. he’s got weird eldritch shit going on, something about messing with the magical and ethereal that he becomes intertwined with it, also some ctechno-esque feelings about only being seen as a weapon/tool for others, ANYWAYS I love tr!clown wish he would FUCKING STREAM MORE. rotating them all in my mind like a rotisserie chicken

but like ive been thinking about that time foolish and ros went on a fishing trip after foolish came back from the dead and how good that was and I'm also thinking about the low-key jealous (??) vibe Owen has going on all the time and of course I'm the number one clown and ros fan so yeah. I can't stop thinking about them teehee

and tango is probably a trusted advisor to foolish or something along those lines, as well as sneeg (sneeg and clown divorce canon???? must've been the wind...)

and then on the red/green side there's bad as the king/whatever patriarch, with pangi as his nephew or something like that idk, and then pili is an assassin pangi somehow befriended that hangs around all the time and won’t leave. and also has/had some sort of insane situationship with ros?? also hannah and pac as trusted advisors and the rest of red team as other mercenaries/hired hands (architect sausage, pirate baghera, etc). and let's not forget that pangi and pili have some sort of insane doomed yaoi thing going on too, they truly are the most dysfunctional found family

and with blue, there’s tubbo, cpk, kind of phil and beky and coy and scott (??) and of course aimsey. oh my god tr!aimros is fucking insane, ros is having a Rough Time and foolish is really good at supporting her even though he doesn’t always have time or really get what the hell is going on with ros and aimsey. anyways tubbo is an old friend of foolish, gets along great with ros, and his ex-husband is ‘friends’ with pili. so that’s great. (huge fan of tr!Tommy just kind of being there and annoying tubbo from time to time very in character for him). and tubbo, aimsey and cpk are canonically brothers I don't make the rules, beky is silently recording everything and judging everyone, coy is just trying to build a cool farm and keeps getting pulled into drama

anyways. there's my concept and I keep trying to write something but I can't figure out how the fuck to go about it, so I figured someone else might like the idea. godspeed soldiers

[xo-adeline]

hello i have a bllk request!

can i request isagi, bachira, chigiri, nagi, reo, kuni, the itoshi brothers and barou with a socially awkward gf/crush who (kinda) hates kids?

like reader doesn’t HATE hate kids, but is like scared of them. kids are actually scary especially gen alpha 💀. how tf are these little gremlins watching skibidi toilet with a straight face just a short clip of it literally made me and my friends so uncomfortable we couldn’t continue 💀.

so more like she can watch kids from afar, and if she saw one in public, she wouldn’t throw a rock at it or call animal control. but talking to them? interacting with them?? HELL NO SHE CANT DO THAT.

it’s kinda like how we see zoo animals. best admired from afar, and if she ever gets stuck in an empty room with them, she’s screwed. as if talking to adults and teenagers wasn’t scary enough, their school just had to pick an orphanage/children’s hospital to volunteer at. she’s hiding in the corner watching her bf/crush deal with the like 7-year olds (maybe younger, who btw, were most likely bullying her just now.) wondering why and how people could stand those little gremlins.

(better still, if they go back to his place after the school volunteering activity and his parent(s)/sister jokingly mention grandkids/nieces/nephews and she’s like “ew i hate kids” or smth like that, but maybe more discreet idk how to tell even my own parents i hate children, let alone my (nonexistent) bf’s parents 💀)

once again it’s not that she actually hates kids, but sees them as a different species and can’t deal with them because they scare her, and sometimes bully her. 💀

ik you probably have a lot of requests but i kinda need SOME way to overcome my crippling fear of children.

i hope you like this idea tho and i really love your writing 🫶🫶🫶

Ngl this is actually so me, I love this idea so much- But the best part is the fact that I actually worked with kids for almost 2 years, and my friends club has us interacting with kids too... (I tried to do most of the characters but I had no ideas for some of them, but you can always re-request with the ones that I missed and the second I think of some ideas I'll def write it!!)

Isagi Yoichi -> Do we not remember when that one kid stopped him after the u-20 match.. Bro is good with kids, so luckily he can save you

-> He will slightly chuckle at you when you show up to this place where the children (gremlins) are at you slightly freak out, and he will laugh at you even more when your awkwardly standing in the corner because your way to freaked out to actually go talk to any of these kids

-> Has to keep reminding the kids not to laugh at you, and that your just not the best socially

-> Eventually tries to find you one of those kids who are also standing away from everybody else for you to interact with, both of y’all have something in common, you hate the other kids!

-> He will very much get confused on this skibidi toilet bullshit (who isn’t, tbh-) but he’ll sit through it so they can be entertained while he tries to make sure that your still alive in the corner

-> If you actually started talking to the kid that he sent your way he’ll be kinda proud, I mean obviously it’s not the other 10 kids he has with him, but it’s a step in the right direction!

-> If not he gets it, I mean what he’s watching with them right now is downright terrifying, so why wouldn’t the minds who consume it also be terrifying

-> Later on when you two finally end up heading back to his house he tells his parents about how you two were volunteering with children and when they offhandedly mention that it would be nice to have grandchildren in the future he can only laugh.

“Yeah.. Unless I can get (Name) to stop hiding in a corner when they see a child then maybe..”

Reo Mikage

-> He grew up as an only child and I’m assuming he didn’t have a bunch of friends when he was growing up so I don’t think he would be the absolute best with kids, but still better than others

-> The kids will be a little confused when he starts trying to teach them about business and economics saying that this was the age he started learning about running a business

-> They might end up gravitating towards you since you’re just kinda confused along with them, trying to explain to him not every kid grew up with their future of running a family company.

-> Will totally laugh when he sees how freaked out you are with these little (gremlins) kids trying to get your attention and asking if your any more fun than Mr.Business (Which they had nicknamed Reo) -> Will eventually learn and get them to leave you alone, after almost 10 minutes of you trying to hide behind him or anywhere else in this room so they can’t talk to you

-> Ends up helping them instead with other things like reading and math stuff, not the brain rot of skibidi toilet (thank god)

-> That night you two had ended up going out to dinner with his parents as they wanted to have a nice sit down meal while they talked about what was possibly coming up in the future, including your future with Reo, and kids. He smiled and took your hand in his.

“After today, I don’t think we’ll have to worry about an heir to the Mikage Corp for quite a while of time”

Kunigami Rensuke

-> BRO HAS TWO SISTERS, One older and one younger, Man knows his way around kids, for sure. I take no criticism on this.

-> Is actually so good with kids, you now are speculating that he’s actually a single teen dad with like 2 kids or something that he just hasn’t told you about. He’s that good (it’s actually scary)

-> He will not let them watch skibidi toilet, another man who is respectable and makes sure they are doing educational stuff

-> Also makes sure they stay away from you for the most part, just because he knows that you don’t like having all those kids near you, but he may or may not send one over your way that he thinks that you’ll actually get along with

-> He wants to see what you would be like if you actually interacted with a kid, it’s his future brain thinking

-> That also brings up to the day that his parents (and his sisters) have asked you both about having children in the future, he would just chuckle and ruffle your hair a little

“Unless I would be the only one communicating with the little one then I don’t see us having kids for quite a bit of time.”

Sae Itoshi

-> Worst person to have around kids. I mean did you see how he treated his own little brother, smh. (DROP WHAT HAPPENED IN SPAIN, AND MY LIFE IS YOURS)

-> Does not know how to act around kids, just basically lets them do whatever as long as they aren’t bothering the two of you

-> To bad kids don’t listen all that well and he basically has to keep glaring at them from where he is sat at the only bigger table in the room with you, because these kids keep trying to get your attention since they know Sae isn’t gonna give them anything, which sucks for you

-> Attempts to try something once he realizes that you're actually pretty horrible with kids, let's just say the soccer he tried to play with them didn’t go all that well.. And you may or may not have had to get over your fear a little since a bunch of crying kids kept coming over to you

-> To which he figured that this wasn’t the way to go about it so he just put on some random movie he remembers from when he was a kid, too bad it was one of the ones from his flight to Spain when he was younger and it was all in Spanish. (It’s okay, they had fun trying to figure out what the hell it said, and it kept them entertained for quite a bit of time.)

-> Once the whole future and children conversation came up with his parents, he could only roll his eyes.

“Yeah, no thanks. (Name) and I couldn’t handle one of those gremlins, even if it looked or acted like us.”

[cclowneryy]

Laughing Jack Headcanons Part 2

this is literally my character app lmfao I've been coming up with ideas about him since I started fangirling (badly) for him again so let's go.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

(gif/animation by @/ijustwannahavefun)

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★。＼｜／。★

⛧ Laughing Jack is essentially corrupted by Lucifer to be used as a weapon to obtain his vengeance on God for casting him out. When an angel was traveling the Jack-in-the-Box to Isaac, Lucifer sent one of his demons to attack the angel and put a "curse" on the box. This could explain why Laughing Jack-even before Isaac abandoned him-seemed to be murderous as he mutilated a cat when him and Isaac were playing outside.

⛧ LJ does have more of an "virtuous" voice. He has a gentle, almost father like, voice. It's usually for when he wants engage with someone he genuinely likes or if he wants to calm someone down. However, don't let this deceive you as it could be because of manipulation. Once he starts showing his true motives, his voice would become more sinister.

(His "innocent" voice headcanon that being Sebastian Michaelis: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OgBWOTtTp4Q)

(His "malicious" voice headcanon that being Alex Brightman's Beetlejuice: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QMrt9demNeA)

⛧ He takes interest in porcelain harlequin dolls. He was first introduced into making them around the late 1900s when he was targeting one of his victims and their brother was a merchant for harlequin dolls. Obviously LJ killed his victim and the brother because they were scamming and being evil by abusing their nephews and based on his new hobby, he captured their souls and sealed them in two porcelain harlequin dolls he created. They are both in a small, glass display in on of LJ's carnival tents.

⛧ Relating back to the previous one, Laughing Jack doesn't kill innocent children or people for that matter. Sure, he may scare or tease you, but he would never lay a finger on you unless if you are that of vile soul. Especially if you abuse children.

⛧ Laughing Jack loves studying astronomy. Whenever he walks outside on a full moon with stars aligned in the night sky, he would always wonder what it'll be like to travel across the galaxy. He even thought about if there's other life forms on different planets. This can explain why he is more stronger magic wise during the full moon period.

⛧ He is also a writer. When he began writing was as the same time Isaac was still being homeschooled. He learned how to do cursive writing. He would definitely write letters either warning someone about the dangers that lie ahead of them or would write a threatening one to his victim.

⛧ Laughing Jack has photophobia or has sun-sensitive eyes. This is most likely because he has been stuck in a dark, enclosed area for almost 13 years. He can technically be in sunlight but he'll have discomfort. So if you want to get away from him just shine a really bright flashlight in his eyes. One of the people Laughing Jack was protecting noticed this and offered him a pair of their old glasses because they had the same condition. LJ does wear them but only when no one can see his as he doesn't want to seem "vulnerable."

⛧ He is also very...old fashion. He prefers listening to music by a vinyl and a record player and doesn't understand the concept of technology or what the new generation is into. He is also very concerned about the "Get Alpha" slang...

⛧ If Laughing Jack gets stabbed or has one of his limbs cut off he could easily attach it back by sewing that area with just needle and thread and wrap it with his iconic bandages and it'll function like normal.

⛧ He loves the snow. Especially when it's at night. He finds it very magical and would take someone out with him to a snowy forest so they could have a walk and talk to each other about their deepest feelings.

⛧ His scent is that of a victoria sponge cake. It is actually a strong smell that you probably wouldn't even think it came from him.

⛧ For funnies, yes Laughing Jack does know all of the Sanrio characters.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖꩜