#bc it encapsulates their story perfectly!

[mhokday]

see you yesterday | a tintol / triage playlist

"if you fall, i will catch you, i will be waiting, time after time."

songs are ordered chronologically to align with the events of the series!

[worfsbarmitzvah]

there’s such an attitude among ex-christian atheists that religions just spring up out of the void with no cultural context behind them. like ive heard people say shit like “those (((zionists))) think they own a piece of land bc their book of fairy tales told them so!!!” and they refuse to understand that no, we don’t belong there because of the torah, it’s in the torah because we belong there. because we’re from there. the torah (from a reform perspective) was written by ancient jews in and about the land that they were actively living on at the time. the torah contains instructions for agriculture because the people who lived in the land needed a way to teach their children how to care for it. it contains laws of jurisprudence because those are pretty important to have when you’re trying to run a society. same for the parts that talk about city planning. it contains our national origin story for the same reason that american schools teach kids about the boston tea party. it’s an extremely complex and fascinating text that is the furthest thing from just a “book of fairy tales”

[solar-halos]

happy mood board monday everyone. this is for “why must i be a teenager in love?” in which finnick odair is a teenager & also in love

[youreaclownnow]

I don't think I even have to say what I'm thinking about this irt for yall to already know

[saviourkingslut]

watched netflix's im westen nichts neues with my dad and uhh. i dont think they could've missed the essence of the book any harder if they'd actively tried

[gaylittleguys]

I watched campfire tales 1997 tonight bc I’ve had it recommended to me before it’s very silly I would also recommend if you like goofy campy 90s horror

[ichorai]

amsterdam ; jacaerys velaryon. (m)

track two of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; jacaerys velaryon x arryn!f!reader

synopsis ; prince jacaerys velaryon traveled to the eyrie to secure aid for his mother's cause. he didn't at all expect to fall in love an arryn while he was there.

words ; 4.7k

themes ; fluff, smut (minors dni!), fantasy

warnings / includes ; unprotected sex, oral (f recieving), jace is very much infatuated with you (expect lots of praise !!), reader is the only child of jeyne arryn of the vale, mentions of daemon and rhaenyra, in this fic jace is over eighteen when he goes to the eyrie !! cursing, mentions of death, vermax is grumpy bcs he has to sit outside in the cold someone save him

main masterlist.

The Eyrie stood tall and proud on the very top of rocky mountains—so high that white wisps of clouds could be seen far below where the castle was situated. Jacaerys unmounted his dragon, placing a reassuring hand on the large, olive-green scales of his snout. 

“Kesan sagon arlī. Umbagon,” he murmured to Vermax, who huffed out a plume of warm smoke and settled back on his haunches, clearly unhappy with the prospect of waiting around in the cold. I will be back. Stay.

Blowing out a nervous exhale, Jace squared his shoulders and turned on his heel, making his way into the white-stone castle. 

Blue-cloaked guards stood in his way of the wooden entrance, faces stony and hands resting on the hilts of their swords, at the ready. 

“I am Jacaerys Velaryon, son of the rightful Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. I’ve come to urgently speak to Lady Jeyne Arryn to secure aid for my mother’s cause.” His voice rang clear and true, confident despite his inner turmoil.

The guards glanced at each other, before stepping aside, letting him walk through. 

“This way, my Prince,” one of them said, guiding him through winding corridors and eventually, down a long hall. The blue-veined, marble walls shone with polish—so much so that Jacaerys could see his own warped reflection looking back at him. 

And at the end of the hall, laid two thrones of weirwood—nothing compared to the hunkering mass that was the iron throne, but still grand nonetheless. Seated on one was the Lady of the Eyrie, Jeyne Arryn, with a head of dark locks like his, and soft features that contrasted starkly with the scowl pulling at her lips. 

The lady was facing her side, where she was speaking in hushed whispers to her only daughter—Y/N Arryn, the infamous Jewel of the Eyrie. 

Jace could feel his heart stumble upon itself when he laid his eyes on you. Suddenly, your name made sense. Sure, he had heard tales of your regaling beauty and your kind nature, but words alone were not enough to fully encapsulate just how breathtaking you really were. 

The sunlight streaming through the tall, arched windows bathed you in a warm glow, casting long, sloping shadows over your skin. Draped over your form was a dress of cerulean hue, cascading down your hips as if it were water. Jace considered himself a gentleman—he had to take care not to let his eyes wander to the low-hanging cut of your neckline, where the very beginnings of your cleavage were exposed, and a glinting pearl necklace hung just above your clavicle. Your hair was cut rather short, nearly as short as his, but framed your face just perfectly. Your lips were moving hurriedly as you spoke to your mother, eyes alight with a certain fire, but Jace couldn’t quite catch what you were saying. The stories not only told of your enchanting beauty, but of your strongly overprotective mother, who always turned away any and all suitors for you. And proposals were never short, from what he heard. Jacaerys felt a strange flame of jealousy brew within his stomach. 

“Apologies for the interruption, my lady,” announced the guard. “Jacaerys Velaryon, here to speak with you.”

Upon the abrupt announcement, you promptly clamped your mouth shut, looking over to Jace with a scrutinizing, yet curious gaze, meeting the Prince’s own intrigued eyes. 

His throat was suddenly dry. It took everything within him to tear his attention away from you, and look towards your mother.

“My lady,” greeted Jacaerys, fists clenching and unclenching behind his back. “I’ve come on behalf of my mother, the Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. She kindly asks you to remember that she is part Arryn herself, as you are half-siblings with the late Queen Aemma, and hopes you will support your cousin’s claim to the throne.”

Recognition sparked within the Lady’s eyes, remembering her half-sister, Aemma. From beside her, you subconsciously straightened yourself as he spoke, lips parting out of interest. This was Prince Jacaerys himself—heir to the throne. Jace gradually shifted his weight from foot to foot, feeling your gaze practically burn holes straight through him. You couldn’t help but notice that he was quite the handsome young man, with a head of thick, dark hair, and hard-set, determined eyes. He spoke evenly and calmly, voice soaked with honey and smoked cedar and ocean salt. The Prince looked to be around the same age as you, give or take a few moons. And as Jacaerys had heard much about you, you knew just as much about him—and now that you were seeing him in person… the stories seemed to prove themself true. He didn’t look one bit Targaryen or Valeryon, but rather resembled the bold, physical characteristics of a Strong. 

Either way, bastard or not, Jacaerys Velaryon intrigued you.

The argument you’d just had with your mother about traveling to King’s Landing and seeing the world for yourself was still fresh on your mind, and seeing Jace right here in front of you felt like much more than a coincidence.

“Yes,” your mother said, standing up from the throne to step closer to the Prince. “I do remember the rather twisted history of our families. In fact, I seem to recall your great-uncle Daemon was married to Rhea Royce until her… untimely death.”

The Lady of the Eyrie was plainly hinting at the fact that his stepfather murdered his first wife. Jace steeled himself by blowing out a small breath. 

“It was truly unfortunate,” said Jace diplomatically. 

The woman narrowed her eyes, eerily similar to your expression. “Despite my contempt for your great-uncle, it would be hypocritical of me to say Targaryen men are the root of the problem. Mine own kin have sought to replace me as Ruler of the Vale thrice by now. My cousin, Ser Arnold, oft claims women are too soft to rule. He is currently in one of my sky cells, if you would like to see.”

Jacaerys shifted uncomfortably. He’d heard little of the sky cells—only that the room bore three walls instead of four, leaving an open gap for anybody to plummet to their grueling death. And knowing how high up the castles were built, there would be no chance for survival. The grounds were sloped and it was not uncommon for prisoners to roll off the edge during their sleep. 

“Mother,” you spoke for the first time, making his head snap to you. You watched him sympathetically, an apologetic glint to your eyes, voice smoothly soft but tone firm. “I am sure the Prince has much more important matters to attend to than my bumbling fool of an uncle.”

Jeyne nodded at your words. “Yes… of course. We’ll help you fight your war, Prince Jacaerys. Send word to your mother that we support her cause and will supply her with as many soldiers as she needs—in this world of men, we women must band together.”

Relief flooded through Jace’s veins. Momentarily, he caught your eye and dipped his head in gratitude. 

“On one condition,” said the Lady of the Eyrie, holding up a hand. “We will send you support if and only if you swear to protect the Vale from the Greens with dragonriders.”

Irrational hope flared within Jacaerys’ chest—the thought of being able to spend more time in the Vale just to see you a bit more made him rather excited. Though, knowing his mother, he would most likely be stuck by her side as heir to the throne than up North protecting the Vale. 

“That can be arranged,” agreed Jacaerys. “We swear to protect the Vale and the people within it.”

“Then our deal is done,” said your mother, before lowering herself slightly, as an act of bending the knee to the Prince. You followed suit, meeting his gaze once again, this time with a subtle, radiant smile cinching the corners of your eyes. The guards flanking the hall were the last to mirror your actions, all bending the knee to the heir of the iron throne.

Jacaerys was making his way out of the hall, surprised when you bid your mother adieu and rushed after the Prince, much to her overprotective dismay, offering to walk with him to his dragon. You waved the guards away, but they still hovered over the pair of you with uncertain expressions.

“It’s just a brief walk,” you reasoned. “I’ll be fine.”

Relenting, the guards backed off and left you alone with the Prince. 

“Come along, my Prince, I can show you the way out,” you gently laid your hand on his forearm, tugging him with you further down the hall. The young man could feel his heart slamming against his chest, a thundering pulse in his ears nearly deafening him. 

Now that you were so much closer to him—mere inches—Jace could see finer details about you, and impossibly, you somehow became all the more beautiful. The blue fabric of your dress grazed his more coarse tunic. 

“There is much I have heard of you, my Prince,” you began, a kind smile illuminating your features. “I must say, I admire your Queen mother greatly.”

“Jace,” he softly said.

You blinked at him. “Pardon?”

Tripping over his words, Jace quickly backtracked, “I, uh, you don’t have to call me your Prince. Jace is just fine.” A bit more hesitantly, he tacked on, “I’m not quite used to the title just yet. It feels strange.”

A part of him was worried you’d be appalled at the impropriety of calling him by a nickname, but you merely grinned, all wide and sweet. 

“Alright then, Jace. Have you anywhere urgent to be? The hour is growing late—perhaps you can stay for supper. You cannot possibly run more errands on an empty stomach.”

You leaned closer and he caught a whiff of saccharine fruits and jasmine oil wafting from your hair, a smell that he yearned to drown himself into. It also didn’t slip past his notice that your chest was pressed up against his bicep. Good heavens, Jacaerys needed to get a grip of himself. 

Ever the responsible son, Jacaerys knew he had to be on his way to the Three Sisters, a small cluster of islands up North, to gain their support for his mother, as well. But he was ahead of schedule, and he deserved something of a rest after hours on dragonback. After all, he’d packed little else than fruit and bread and dried meat rations—the idea of a warm meal was more than appealing. 

Perhaps those were all just excuses. The true reason he wanted to stay was because he wanted to spend more time with you. 

“Wouldn’t your mother mind?” he asked, a little apprehensive, not wanting to get in between you and the overprotective Lady of the Eyrie. She already had a distaste for Targaryen men, thanks to his stepfather Daemon, and he wasn’t too keen on being added to the roster.

Expression faltering just a smidge, you shook your head. “No, she’s so very busy running the Vale—warding off her cousins who are fighting for their claim to inherit the Eyrie. It’s a whole lot of political nonsense, if you ask me.”

Hesitantly convinced, Jace allowed himself to smile in hopes of seeing your own once more. “If you insist, my lady. Supper sounds wonderful.”

To his delight, you beamed, and led him to a winding marble staircase, flourished with blue carpets that matched your dress. “Great! The morning hall is right up here—it’s rather quiet around this time, since it’s a bit early for supper.”

“Perfect,” mumbled Jace, the idea of being alone with you setting his cheeks aflame. 

Once in the hall, you kindly requested one of the servants to fetch a bowl of lamb stew and some cider for the Prince, gesturing for him to sit on one of the narrow, long tables that stretched nearly the entire length of the room. 

You engaged Jace in amicable chatter, which he seldom got to do with anybody that wasn’t his family—everyone either hated him because of his uncanny resemblance to Harwin Strong, or they were intimidated by his status as heir to the throne. It was refreshing, and frankly, made Jacaerys a little envious of those without the burden of responsibility on their shoulders.

The stew arrived not too shortly after, along with a silver chalice full of spiced apple cider that burned his tongue in all the right ways. You sipped on your own cup, nearly choking with laughter when he began recounting a story about his younger brother, Lucerys, nearly falling off his dragon during his first ride. Jace thought you had the most mellifluous laugh, practically music to his ears. He itched to hear the sweet sound over and over again.

“I wish I had siblings sometimes,” you wistfully said, placing your chalice down on the table and resting your face on your palm, propped up by your elbow. “It gets awfully lonely here. My mother, I love her, I do, but she never really lets me go out of the Vale. The only times were when I was a small child, and even then I was accompanied by half a dozen guards.”

Jace hummed sympathetically, spooning more of the peppery stew in his mouth. “So it’s true, then? Your mother constantly rejecting all the suitors and proposals lined up on your doorstep?”

“Yeah,” you fixed him with a warm smile. “Though, I suppose it’s not that much of a loss. Most of the men asking for my hand were more than twice my age and always looked upon me in a… lewd manner. It’s no wonder my mother turned all of them down.”

Without thinking, Jace blurted out, “You deserve to wed someone you love. A man who loves you doubly so.”

You fell silent, regarding him curiously. Maybe Jace didn’t know any better, but you appeared to be flustered. Clearing your throat, you said, “Thank you, my pr—Jace. Besides, the proposals aren’t really what bother me. It’s the fact that I stand to inherit the Eyrie and I have yet to explore the rest of the world. I’m afraid that once I am Lady of the Vale, I won't have any time for myself.”

“I have a dragon,” said Jace, in a half-joking, half-serious manner. “I can take you flying around Westeros one day, when the war is over.”

“You mean it?” you whispered, a genuine glimmer of excitement laced behind your words. Jace nodded, his heart leaping into his throat with the motion. ��That would mean the world to me, it really would.”

The two of you fell into another comfortable silence. You downed the rest of your cider and he mopped up the remaining bits of his stew with a steaming loaf of bread. 

“I have yet to find a suitor to my liking,” you said, pursing your lips hesitantly. Jace gestured for you to keep talking, drinking some of the cider to wash down his meal. “And I’ve heard you’re betrothed now, yes?”

At the mention of his betrothal to his cousin Baela, Jacaerys stiffened. 

He leaned forward. “Can I be completely honest with you? And you must promise not to say a word of this to anyone.”

You nodded, eyes wide. 

“I do not wish to marry Baela,” he whispered, glancing around to make sure nobody was listening. Your lips parted, as if you wanted to say something, but you kept quiet, allowing for him to continue. “The romantic love I harbor for her is scant—she is more of my sister than anything. I cannot see myself ever… consummating our marriage.” Heat seeped into his cheeks, and a part of him instantly regretted admitting that to you. 

“Perhaps you need not marry her, then,” you responded without a second’s pause, before freezing at your words, as if they had slipped from your mouth out of your own volition. “I’m terribly sorry, my Prince, I shouldn’t have…” 

Whatever you were beginning to say died on your tongue when Jace moved his hand across the table to settle gently on top of yours. 

The atmosphere between the two of you seemed to shift. 

Jace studied your features with a keen eye, noticing the bright glint to your molten irises, the gentle curvature of your nose, the small birthmark on the left side of your jaw. And, not at all discreetly, his gaze fell to your lips, where your teeth were worrying into the supple flesh. His own expression melded into one of raw longing—nearing desperation, even.

And you could see it all on his face, plain and clear. Jacaerys Velaryon was enraptured by you. 

It was not at all like how the suitors asked for your hand—they looked upon you like a direwolf would a slab of meat, as if you were merely an object for their carnal desires, as if you were to warm their bed and nothing else. 

Jacaerys, however, looked upon you like you had scattered the very stars in the sky with your bare hands. And you had no doubt you mirrored his yearning countenance.

“Come with me,” you whispered, standing up and lacing your fingers with his, tugging him away from the table, and out of the morning hall. 

With a dazed look on his face, Jace followed along, allowing you to pull him towards more stairs. Up, up, and further up, the two of you went.

Until he stood in front of a large oaken door, your free hand pushing it open and the other ushering him inside the spacious room. The waning, clementine light of the setting sun shone through the diamond-shaped windows, framed by blue velvet curtains, bathing you in a regal, aureate luminescence as you softly shut the door behind you and leaned against the wood, fixing him with a burning stare. Your lips were parted, and your chest was rising and falling in a tantalizing manner. 

The cold realization that he was in your chambers suddenly dawned upon him. Seven hells, this was… beyond improper. Reality slapped Jacaerys out of his lustful stupor, and he struggled to formulate a coherent sentence.

“My lady,” he began, swallowing down the lump in his throat. “This is… we shouldn’t—”

His words dwindled away when you reached behind yourself and began undoing the laces of your dress. Despite his protests, Jace made no move to leave. He could feel his breeches growing uncomfortably tight. It felt like there was not enough air in the room for him to breathe.

“I… I should probably get going, Vermax—my dragon loathes the cold, you see…” he tried once more, to no avail.

The blue material fell from your shoulders, cascading down your body and pooled onto the ground in one seamless motion, leaving only a thin pale shift between him and your naked body. He fell deathly silent. 

You were the most beautiful person Jacaerys had ever laid his eyes on. No woman, no man, nobody in all of Westeros, could ever compare to the likes of you.

Throwing all caution to the wind, the Prince surged forward in two large strides, sealing the distance between you. One of his hands carefully cradled your face as if you were hewn from porcelain, and the other clutched your waist, thumb grazing over the sides of your ribs, dangerously close to your breasts.

And his lips met yours in a heated frenzy, your noses bumping against one another amidst your vigor.

“Should you wish to stop, just say the word, my lady,” he murmured against you, tugging you away from the door and walking you backwards to the large bed. 

Your knees buckled against the mattress and you fell back, eyes darkened with wanton need. Your fingers began hurriedly undoing the buttons at the top of his tunic. “Don’t stop, please,” you breathed out just as he began languidly kissing you once again. “Don’t you dare stop.”

A newfound confidence fueled his movements with your affirmation, and he rid himself of his shirt, tossing it somewhere behind him, along with his straining breeches and undergarments. You let your eyes roam over his toned chest, lids half-hooded.

“You’re so beautiful,” you told him, following suit and shirking your thin shift off, leaving you completely nude in front of the Prince, save for the opalescent pearls hanging around your neck. 

His breath hitched at your praise. “I was just about to say the same thing,” he muttered hotly against your flushed skin, trailing kisses down your jaw, roaming over the slope of your neck, your shoulders, your chest. “Beautiful,” he said, echoing himself with every kiss. You fisted the sheets beneath you, desperate for him to touch you where it ached the most.

A wave of arousal danced over you when he came face to face with your breasts, his tongue slipping out to drag along one of your pebbled nipples, his hand lifting to tweak the other between his fingers. His lips enveloped one of the pert buds, and he glanced up to see you with your head thrown back, a sigh of pleasure falling from your throat.

“Jacaerys, please…” you moaned, breathing stilted. 

Eager to please, Jace pulled away from your breast, trailing wet kisses down your stomach, along your hips, and to the insides of your thighs. His hands held your legs apart, which trembled with anticipation and need. 

His cock twitched against the bed upon seeing your slickened cunt, soaked with your essence.

“All this for me?” he hummed, laving his tongue mere inches away from where you needed him most.

“All for you,” you said, a low groan tumbling from your lungs when he finally surged forward and buried his face into your cunt, licking into your warm hole, the crook of his nose pressing repeatedly into your spasming clit. 

Embarrassed by your volume, you slapped your hands over your mouth, muffling your breathless whines.

Obviously not pleased with this, Jacaerys looked up at you with a stern look, halting his ministrations. “Let me hear you, my lady. I want to hear you.”

Hands quaking, you let them fall away from your lips, clenching into fists by your sides. Jacaerys smiled at you, the lower half of his face gleaming with your arousal. Then, he lowered himself back down and abruptly attached his lips to your sensitive clit, making your hips jolt upwards with the sudden rush of pleasure. 

“Jace!” you wailed, grinding your cunt against his mouth. He hummed in approval, clearly getting off on your own pleasure. Two of his fingers circled your entrance, and he slowly pushed them into you, cracking one of his eyes open to observe your breathless, writhing figure. 

He continued his ministrations, fucking you with his fingers and sucking relentlessly on your clit until you seized up beneath him, a litany of pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. 

“That’s it, cum for me. My good girl,” he praised, moaning into your cunt as you did what you were told, grinding against his face as you came down from your high, until you began to flinch away with overstimulation. Jace wished to have you ride his face, use him as the dragon he was, be completely at your mercy… but he was desperate to feel your cunt around him.

Jacaerys made his way back up your body, kissing you once more. You could taste yourself on him, which made you dizzy with delight.

“I need you, Jace,” you mumbled, wrapping your legs over his waist, your hot, soaked pussy pressed against his abdomen. “I need you inside me.”

“As you wish, my lady,” he whispered with one final kiss, ever the gentleman. “Tell me if it’s too much. I wish not to hurt you.” 

Lining himself with your still-sensitive entrance, he began to slowly ease his way in, keenly watching your expression to make sure he wasn’t paining you in any way.

“So good,” you mumbled, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his shoulder. “Feels so good, Jace.”

“Beautiful girl,” the Prince groaned once he bottomed out inside your warmth, eyes rolling into the back of his head from the overwhelming sensation of your sopping cunt fluttering around his cock. 

He started off gentle, slowly rocking into you, eyes darting between your blissful features, and your breasts bouncing with every thrust. 

You began to move in tandem with him, wanton moans echoing throughout your chambers when he reached down to rub slow circles on your clit. 

The slapping of his skin on yours made a flustered expression burrow itself permanently on his face, dusting his skin with faint rouge. You felt so fucking good, nearly too good to be true, and Jacaerys wouldn’t at all be surprised if he woke up and you turned out to be a dream. 

Your name tumbled from his lips in rapid repetition as he could feel his orgasm approaching, rhythm faltering when you clenched viciously around him. He met your eyes, leaning down to kiss you sweet and slow. “Can you cum for me again, sweet girl?” he murmured, a satisfied growl thundering in the back of his throat.

Shivering, one of your hands raked down his back desperately, on the very precipice of your climax. You came with a shout of his name, stars blotting out your vision, clenching so tightly around him that Jace had a hard time moving, which had him moaning a breathy string of curses. 

He showered you with more praises, thrusting into you once, twice, three more times, before his voice tapered off into a groan, hurriedly pulling out of your throbbing cunt to cum all over your stomach, both your chests glistening with sweat.

Panting, Jacaerys collapsed onto the bed beside you, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your temple. “My beautiful, sweet girl,” he murmured, making your heart swell with pride and adoration.

You turned to slot your lips just beside his nose bridge, rubbing your thighs together contentedly. “My handsome, gentle Prince,” you responded, voice hoarse and exhaust weighing down your eyelids. 

“You did so well for me. You can sleep now, my lady.” he reassured, expression softening as he pushed a stray strand of your hair away from your face. “I’ll clean you up.”

You could only tiredly smile at him, allowing your eyes to fully slip shut, chest rising and falling evenly as slumber took over your form. Jace could only watch fondly, pressing one last kiss to your temple, before making his way off the bed.

The next morning rolled by far too soon. The sun glared through your windows, straight into your eyes, and you tried waving it away with a huff of annoyance, to no avail. Finally, you sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with the back of your hand. Once you came to, you noticed that you were neatly tucked into the center of your expansive bed, and you lifted the thick blue blanket to look down, mildly surprised to find any and all stickiness between your thighs and on your stomach was gone. 

Did you dream of what transpired last night? Was Prince Jacaerys only but a figment of your hyperactive imagination?

Feeling a bit dejected, you fell back against your feather-stuffed pillows, rolling onto your side. It couldn’t have been a dream, though—it certainly felt real. Heat spidered across your skin at the lewd memories of the night before. 

Your suspicion was only confirmed when you caught sight of a small, folded piece of paper on your bedside table. With nimble fingers, you plucked it off the surface and unfurled the sheet, a small smile dancing at the corner of your mouth. You found it endearing that Jacaerys’ handwriting was a nearly illegible, messy scrawl of ink across the parchment.

My dearest lady, As much as it pains me to leave you, I have urgent matters to attend to for my mother. I will be heading North to the Three Sisters in hopes of gaining their favor. I will never forget this night with you, nor will I forget my promise to take you flying across Westeros after the war ends. You are, without a doubt, the most wonderful thing to have happened to me. I still wonder if I am dreaming, because a beauty such as yours cannot possibly exist. I will come back for you, sweet girl. I swear it by the Seven.  Yours, Jace

[koqabear]

Stuck With You

Song suggestion: What Is It About Her?

“Taehyun hates everything about you; your pride, your stubbornness, and the way you plague his thoughts with dangerous desires that threaten to break down his walls.”

king! Taehyun x fem! mage!reader 

Genre: enemies to enemies (but like there’s a twist), royalty!au, angst, smut, fantasy!au

word count: 7.9K

Warnings: Tons of bickering, Taehyun is condescending, jealousy, they literally hate each other, so lots of anger and fighting, mentions of TH being abusive (isn’t actually, nothing happens), manhandling, 

Smut warnings: hard dom!Taehyun, brat!mc, sub(?)!mc, dubcon(?) (omg what), hate sex wahhh, rough sex, manhandling, (again!! There’s a lot) degrading, name calling, (filthy, pathetic), biting, dry humping, binding wrists/hands, marking, knife play, breast play, unprotected sex, mocking, edging, choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, creampie

Notes: Am I incapable of writing a story under 5K? It seems so. I was listening to this damn song the entire time I wrote this and omg I’m so tired of it but it also manages to encapsulate their relationship perfectly. Hope u guys enjoy Taehyun manhandling the shit outta the reader bc for some reason it just kept happening…. I think I need to self reflect for a bit. 

Taehyun has never liked you. 

You’re so fickle, a cocky eyesore that he can never seem to escape from— too smart, too wicked, tongue always sharpened to a point as you never knew when to avert your eyes; when to bow down to your Royal Highness. 

He cannot fathom having to spend his waking days around you— yet, fate seems to punish him in such laughable ways. 

“Your Highness,” he’s forced out of his thoughts as he is called, the title so familiar that the sound of his own name is starting to fade from memory, forced as a young child to take responsibility after his deceased father and become the person he is today. 

His every move is practiced, careful, and familiar as he regards the faceless maid before him, not bothering to turn back around as he continues his morning walk. His robes brush against the warm earth, the wind around him bringing about the early signs of spring as it sings against his skin, cooling him down as the hurried steps of the maid follow before him. 

“The mage is summoning you— I’m afraid it is important; she has summoned the royal court as well… they currently wait for your arrival.”

Taehyun’s steps cease beneath the graveled path. He says nothing, seemingly unaffected by the news as he nods his head slowly. The day was so beautiful, he finds himself thinking, chest heaving with a disappointed sigh as he turns to follow the servant. 

But of course, you had to come along and ruin it. 

✧ ✧

“Your Highness. This is not a joke.” 

Taehyun supposes he’s bad at hiding his expressions, if the way you stare him down with fire in your eyes means anything. The conference room is stuffy with the number of people that send him curious stares, unable to fathom how he could not take the current news seriously. 

“The Southern Kingdom is persistent with their threats of war— they truly believe we are the ones behind the massacre of their villages.” 

“It’s a wonder how a kingdom survived for so long under such a stupid ruler, isn’t it?” Taehyun heeds no warning from your words, sighing as he looks out the window and observes the lovely day before him. “I might go hunting today, what do you think?” 

Your hands that slam down on the wooden table startle everyone but him; you’re standing, eyes narrowed dangerously as you leer at him from the other side of the long, rectangular conference table. 

“I think you’d be stupid to not act on these threats immediately.” You grit out, jaw clenched as you take in the way the King seems to be unbothered by your insults. He simply shrugs, sparing a glance to the head guard before he’s leaning back in his seat, closing his eyes as his hands remain folded neatly in his lap. 

“Yeonjun,” he drawls, peeking at you through lidded eyes as he speaks, “what do you think?” 

He doesn’t miss the way Yeonjun sits up in his seat in surprise, adam’s apple bobbing before he’s clearing his throat, gaze averted as he speaks to his King.

“Your Majesty,” he begins, a hand on his chest as he stares at the dark wood of the table, “I think it is best for us to clear our name. A war during these times would set back our countries drastically.”

Taehyun hums, nodding his head in recognition. “You’re right. I want you and a few of your men to investigate those villages; be discreet, I don’t want you to be traced back to us if you get caught.” 

“Someone arrange a meeting with the Southern Kingdom’s royal mage— I must speak to them, it is urgent. And you,” it is no surprise when Taehyun’s eyes meet yours, pausing to regard your disgruntled state. “Stay. I must speak to you privately.”

There’s nothing you can do but grit your teeth and plant your stance as everyone scatters out of the room— afraid of the King’s anger, of the way his jaw clenches with annoyance. His eyes never leave yours, yet the heat that radiates from his gaze almost burns up the room, everyone’s gazes planted to the ground as they bow meekly to him before they exit. 

It’s just you and him now; Unfortunately, you think, bracing yourself for another scolding from your arrogant King. 

“That was no way to speak to your Ruler.” 

It feels as though you’re on fire; it takes everything within you to compose yourself, fists clenched tightly behind your back as you narrow your eyes at his words. You hate it— you hate him with your whole being. The way he seems to be unbothered, tired eyes fluttering shut as he leans back in his seat, a deep sigh escaping him as his lips part tiredly. 

“My Ruler only pays attention when you scream in his face, it seems,” you seethe, ignoring the way his eyes snap open to give you a cautioning glare, “he’s a very arrogant man.” 

He huffs out a laugh, but there’s no amusement behind it all. Slowly, he stands, his robes fluttering with his movements as he looks down at you angrily— if there’s one thing that will always cloud his mind, it’s his pride. 

This same pride prompts him to walk to you, dangerous and slow, warning you to tuck your tail and apologize; you’ll do no such thing, your gaze only sharpening more with every step he takes closer to you. You’re restless, resisting the urge to lash out again as your tongue sharpens against your teeth; lips screwed tightly together, jaw clenched as you wait for him to do something, anything— hit you, yell at you, dismiss you— but he does none of the sort, coming dangerously close to you as he observes you curiously. 

It’s silent; you’re practically sharing the very air you breathe, both of you waiting for the other to break as you meet his gaze, refusing to look away for even a second. 

Taehyun takes a moment to observe you; your eyes, angry and restless, sharp as they dig into his own. You’re tense, your body practically ready to shake as you keep your jaw clenched, lips pursed together as you hold back another nasty jab directed at him. 

You’re like a puppy; all bark and no bite, unable to truly stand up to him in fear of treason— you need this job, your only source to provide for your family in the far-off village you came from. He could dismiss you, break you, watch as you beg him for forgiveness in fear of putting your family at risk— the idea is dangerously appealing to him, the thought of finally having you at his feet making his lips twitch in amusement.

Taehyun holds your life in his hands, and the realization of it sends a deadly lick of fire through his body. 

“How cute,” he mutters, watching the way your brows twitch in anger at his comment. 

“For a second, I almost let your words get to me.”

The comment does more damage than any other strike ever could— because for a second, Taehyun’s gaze almost softened, the smile that grazed his lips more frightening than any threat he could muster. 

A sharp shiver wracks through you; bitterly, you realize that Taehyun managed to gain the upper hand over you once again.

✧ ✧

The first time he dreams of you, Taehyun is terrified. 

He wakes up in distress, an ache forming between his eyes from the pure confusion and anger that overtakes him. He lets out a shaky sigh as he sits up, sinking back into the soft pillows of his bed; his whole body trembles, disoriented and in denial as he attempts to block out everything his traitorous mind conjoined up.

But it doesn’t work. His day is ruined, his mind flashing images of the scenario that manages to haunt even his waking hours. 

In the morning, he makes his way to the garden; fresh air will do him good, he figures, the cool air and floral scent that drifts through the wind calming his beating heart. But then, his fingers caress the petals of his favorite roses— ruby red, the color stunning to his eyes— and he finds himself touching the velvet of your skin, your bare hips and warm thighs that encase him, alluring and soft as your precious lips are reddened and mischievous; swollen, begging for more as his teeth sink on the soft flesh like he was born to do so. 

He’s quick to exit the garden after that. 

His afternoon isn’t much better, his mood sour after dealing with countless meetings and petty problems— he’s exhausted as he leans back into his throne, a distraught sigh escaping him as allows himself to shut his eyes for just a moment— then he’s back to the dreaded memory of you, cute and pliant as you shift restlessly in his lap; your face flushed, hair and clothes a mess as you weakly beg for him to touch you, to please you. 

The moment his name leaves your lips, whiny and desperate, is the moment he jumps up from his throne. 

Taehyun. 

The sound is so realistic, haunting his mind as the ghost of your whine echoes through his ears; it follows him relentlessly, leaving him in distress as he wonders what a dream like that could possibly mean. 

By the end of the day, Taehyun feels as though he may lose his mind; he’s unable to stay in one place, his mind inevitably wandering back to you if he doesn’t find something that takes away his full attention. He’s a mess by the time he’s wandering the corridors, ready to go back to his room as his eyes land on the last thing he would ever want to see. 

You’re so relaxed, a smile gracing your face as you converse with Hueningkai, one of Captain Yeonjun’s guards, the two of you so close and giddy that Taehyun can’t help but stop and watch. 

He’s never seen you like this; he’s never bothered to either, but something about the way you lean into Hueningkai so closely, unafraid to enter his space as the two of you whisper coyly to each other, is enough to have Taehyun bristle up and walk away. 

The emotion is ugly and dreadful as Taehyun shakes his head, a heavy huff leaving him as he beelines straight to his bed— the same bed where he had you under him, your breaths brushing his skin as you panted desperately for more; the very bed where he kissed you until his lungs burned, pressing you into the bedding until your bodies melded together. 

Angrily, Taehyun resists the urge to abandon his bed and stay in another room; even now, you seem to haunt him ‘till his wit's end. 

✧ ✧

The second time Taehyun dreams of you, he’s more frustrated than terrified. 

He sincerely thought it had all been bad luck; his unfulfilled needs melting with his hatred for you, an unlucky concoction as his mind conjured thoughts unspeakable. It had all been nothing but a fluke he hoped, but as he stares out the window and into the scenery of his land, he can’t help but remember the way he had you pressed up against this very glass, his lips unrelenting against your neck as he whispered words that had you crying and begging for more. 

As he writes to other kingdoms, he finds himself staring at his hands; the same ones that had a bruising grip on your hips, bunching up your garments as he pressed himself firmly against you— he can recall the way you melted under his touch, compliant and needy as you let yourself be ravished by him. 

The you in his dreams doesn’t compare to the one that haunts his waking hours— only, in a much more horrid way, as he finds that his temper with you has decreased into something minuscule. He sees it in the way you tense when he so much as enters the same room as you, the rest of his servants sparing you a pitied glance before they duck their heads before him; afraid, meek, and unsure of what he may do to you or anyone who annoys him. 

But even though his patience with you has withered thin, you still find it in yourself to whip him with such insults and humiliations, unafraid of the consequences as you continue to look Taehyun boldly in the eye. 

He could have you disappear with a snap of his fingers— yet, time has ruthlessly shown him that you’re a more valuable asset than he once thought. No, he can’t get rid of you even if he wanted to— his mage, the best in the land and the only one that could ever manage to put up with him. 

The thought of being stuck with you is vile. 

✧ ✧

By the nth time he dreams of you, Taehyun firmly believes that it is no longer an accident. 

You’re a mage— why didn’t he think of this sooner? The blood in his veins is coursing with fire by the time it all connects, his steps rough and brisk as he makes his way to the place where it all started; the dreadful doors of the meeting room greet him, cracked open to insinuate that someone opened them already. 

You’re scared stiff when the doors slam open; whirling around, you’re left face to face with the very man you’d rather not be left alone with, the doors swinging back shut behind him. You’re nervous, a lump in your throat forming as the fire and anger you always find igniting when you see him dissipates, feeling as though water had been dumped on it. 

That very water manifests itself as Taehyun; there’s something different about him, something serious in the way he stares you down, eerily silent and angry as he storms toward you. You feel a witty remark bubble up in your throat, but you’re forced to push it down as you take in the way he’s teeming with rage, unpredictable and unstable as he makes his way to you.

He towers over you, his robes furling around him as his hand presses firmly to your chest; presses against your heart, nervous and quick as he continues to walk, forcing you to stumble back from the brute strength he possesses— the air is practically knocked out of your lungs from how hard he pushes you against the wall. 

“You did this,” he says, eyes narrowed in distaste as he takes in the way you look up at him in confusion, daring to feign ignorance that only angers him more, “you evil wench, how dare you do this to your King?” 

Your eyes widen at his words; he can feel the way your heartbeat is unrelenting against his palm, your hand swatting him away as you grow defensive. The back of his hand stings from the slap, a fire spreading from the very place you touched him; he can’t help but cradle his hand close to his chest, offended at the way you disrespect him so, even when his warning gaze is searing onto your skin. 

“You speak nonsense,” you spit out, brows knitting together as you look at him with pure offense, “for I have no idea of what you allude to.” 

He can’t help but let out an incredulous laugh; even now that he has you cornered, you dare lie to him— even worse, he’s forced to step back, the images of the nights where he would dream of you flustered and pressed against the wall coming back to the forefront of his mind.

He can’t control himself, the carnal and disgusting thoughts plaguing his mind as rage fills his being; he’s backing away before he does anything drastic, the images flashing through his mind as a rough fist collides onto the table behind him. His eyes are shut tight, teeth gritted together as he seethes, ignoring the way you stand back, pressing yourself against the wall in confusion. 

“This—“ he says, huffing as he opens his eyes, meeting yours before he can help himself— and there you are again, pleading for him to use you until he no longer can— “These cursed thoughts, you did this to me—!” 

He feels weak in the knees as he looks at you, his mind running off to places they shouldn’t as he attempts to ignore the intrusive thoughts; you’re still, unsure of what to do as you watch your majesty slowly lose composure. 

Jumping, you’re reduced to the very person you were when you arrived at the palace; meek, useless, and afraid as he runs to you, grabbing ahold of your shoulders and tossing you around until your hips meet the back of the very table he was once leaning on; he’s leaning you back, your arms forced to support yourself as his fingers dig roughly into your shoulders, towering over you as he scowls menacingly. 

“Undo this,” he says, exasperated and breathy as he becomes reminiscent of the nights when he would toss and turn in bed, forced to confront all of these imaginations that included you, pliant and needy under his touch. His eyes screw shut, teeth gritting together as he refuses to look at you, “undo this wretched spell this instant!” 

His grip is bruising; you yelp at the way he shakes you, never seeing him this desperate and angry as a hand reaches up to push against his chest; but it’s useless, his strength outdoing yours easily as he growls at your weak attempt to run away. 

“I’ve done no such thing—!” 

“Don’t you lie to me!” He’s quick to cut you off, volume raising significantly as the adrenaline begins to course through both your veins, “I know you’ve done this, this disgusting spell that haunts my nights— how dare you attempt such a thing to your king, do you have any idea what you’ve done?!”

“I’ve done nothing!” You scream, a sudden strength aiding you as you push against his chest with both hands, watching as he stumbles back harshly, his back colliding with the wall behind him— the sight is reminiscent of what he did to you moments ago. 

“Have you lost your mind?!” You say, exasperated as you watch his hardened gaze, the way his fists shake with anger at his sides, “I’ve done nothing— yet you accuse me of such— such things that you don’t even dare speak of! 

For a moment, there is only silence and the sound of your panting breaths; you hate the way your hands shake as you grip the edge of the table, gulping harshly as you take in the way he hasn’t moved a single inch. 

“I know you hate me,” you huff, jaw clenching as you pause, regaining your composure before continuing, “but you’ve gone too far. This is low, your highness, even for you.” 

“Low?” Taehyun echoes, disbelief on his face as he finally moves; he steps towards you, watching the way you begin to flee in retaliation, “you speak of being low?”

Predator and prey; you can’t help but feel as though this is all you’ve been reduced to, tense and careful as you make your way back to the door; he follows you, his pace matching yours as he allows you to inch closer to the door. 

“What’s low is the way you haunt my dreams, calling out for me like you’d die if I wasn’t near you,” your heart is thundering in your chest, bewildered by his words as you find yourself right behind the door; you’re frozen, waiting for the moment he’ll let his guard down so you can slip out and run. 

“You, you of all people,” he spits, as though the very words were fire on his tongue, “persistent—almost every night it would happen, haunting even my waking days as I was forced to turn the other way when I saw you in the corridors.” 

You don’t care anymore; it’s reckless, but you bolt for the door, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you reach for the door handle— but Taehyun is faster, a hand clamping on your wrist and tugging you back as he uses you to slam the doors fully shut, the latches clicking as the wood knocks out the air from your lungs. 

Taehyun presses against you; you’re like fire against him, and he finds himself thawed the moment he feels your body against his, the empty mold that came from his dreams as he finds his mind clouding dangerously. 

“What’s low,” he hisses, tugging you closer as his hand grips your waist ruthlessly. He’s so close, you couldn’t avoid him even if you closed your eyes— you don’t dare to, the look in his eyes fatal as he traps you in the very spell he’s found himself in. 

“Is the way you forced me to yearn for your touch.” 

Any cruel words that were hanging precariously on your tongue quickly fade away; instead, Taehyun is kissing you with an angry passion, his hand cupping your jaw and pulling you close as he presses your body into the door. His lips are rough and ruthless as they take from you, prying you open and getting the taste that he only imagined in his dreams. 

You’re left weak against him, your body automatically reciprocating as all the words left unsaid travel between the two of you. The hatred, anger, and confusion are interchanged, a groan escaping you as he bites down on your lip. 

He’s rough, not sparing you for even a second as continues to take, unable to do anything else but enjoy the way you grow stupid against his grip, the kiss harsh and messy as you allow him to be the only thing holding you up. Your knees are weak, and if it weren’t for Taehyun pressing you harshly against the door, you would’ve fallen a long while ago. 

He’s unable to hold himself back as he bunches up the fabric of your garments, bunching up your skirts before he’s able to press himself against you; the moan you let out is broken and weak, his robes fluttering around you as he smiles against your lips; your mind has emptied by now, the perfect vessel to let him satiate the need that plagued him after so many dreams— drool is beginning to form at the corners of your lips, and even as you tap Taehyun relentlessly, he refuses to pull away; day after day, he was forced to be around your excruciating presence while being forced to pretend that he couldn’t feel the ghost of your lips, couldn’t imagine the way you would sound when he hit a spot that drove you crazy.

His hips rut against you roughly; he’s unstoppable, messy moans harmonizing with your own as he reaches for your hands; his fingers lock around your wrists, bringing them up and slamming them against the wood as he delivers a particularly harsh thrust; he watches the way your face scrunches up, eyes fluttering shut as your body bounces up with him. 

The sound you let out is akin to the ones in his dreams, leading him to believe that you’re nothing but a fox, a filthy liar that attempts to save face no matter what— and it angers him more, angers him enough to leave marks and bites along the column of your throat, your whines weak and soft as you flinch at his harsh touch; your wrists bounce against his hands in protest as he bites down on your skin, tongue running on it soothingly before he moves on. 

Frustratedly, he’s met with the cloth of your top; clumsily, he gathers your wrists in a single hand— they’re above your head now, slammed against the wood so hard that you feel the backs of your hands tingling ruthlessly. His other hand fumbles with his pockets, your mind so clouded that you’re barely able to keep your eyes open for a moment. 

You grow still the moment the tip of a dagger is pressed to the underside of your chin.

“Admit to me,” he says, breathy and frustrated as the blade pokes into your skin threateningly, “admit to me that it was you, that you’re the one who cast this spell on me— that you have been haunting my dreams.” 

Even now, you shake your head in denial. But the last thing Taehyun will do is believe you, his teeth gritting together as he slices down; your mouth falls open, eyes going glassy as he cuts cleanly through the top you wear, the blade poking at your stomach as he releases your hands for just a second— long enough to slide your garments off, the fabric pooling at your feet as you’re left bare before your king. 

“Why do you still deny me,” he mutters, the knife gliding against your skin comfortably— against all the places he’s felt, a carbon copy of his dreams as he takes in every detail of you; it’s all too much for him, the heated nights he spent with you in his dreams resurfacing in his mind as his dagger tucks itself under your bra, his hand resting on your hip as your hands fall weakly onto his shoulders; he’s pressing into you firmly, the wood cool against your skin as your forehead touches his; you sigh shakily, fingers digging into his shoulders as you close your eyes. 

A sharp tug has you jolting into him, the knife slashing through the garment before it’s falling to the ground, the cool air against your breasts making you shiver. 

Taehyun feels dizzy as he takes you in; his hands attempt to memorize you, as though you would disappear into smoke if he’s not careful enough. Slowly, his hands glide up; they encase your breasts, eyes eagerly taking in your facial expressions as his fingers carefully play with your nipples— it’s odd, the way he can already feel his body telling him what to do, how to please you as your mouth is falling open, your hands clinging to his wrists as he pushes himself closer to you once more.

Carelessly, his right-hand reaches down to grab your leg; he hoists it onto his waist, roughly pressing into you as you’re pressed flat against the door. Your head falls back, able to feel the way his cock is pressing directly against your slit, a shaky moan escaping you the moment he begins to rut his hips again. 

“God— so soft…” Taehyun finds himself saying, a broken gasp escaping him as he allows his hips to take control. Your breasts bounce temptingly before him, his mouth latching onto the sensitive skin as he finds himself eager to hear the very same sounds that always echoed in his mind. He’s insatiable, groans leaving him as he sucks and bites, pretty fangs sinking into your delicate skin and leaving marks that he would make sure would last an eternity. 

None of his dreams compare to this; to the sound of you so close to his ear, a shaky hand threading itself in his hair as you finally give in to the temptation and pull him back up for a kiss; you’re a mess of spit and tongue as you beg him for more, the pleasure fogging your mind as you pull him in restlessly. 

A fire licks through his veins, the frustration you put him through suddenly resurfacing as he steps back— yet his hand remains firm on your hip, letting go of your leg and pulling you forcefully, spinning you around until you’re colliding with the table. He doesn’t stop there, a firm hand pressing down on your chest as he’s forcing you to lean back— his gaze is predatory and dangerous as he looms over you, situating himself between your legs as he allows himself to hover over you, glaring at you with such spite that you’d almost think he was getting ready to kill you— except, his fluttering touches that wander around your body speak otherwise. 

“Filthy thing, haunting my dreams then feigning innocence,” he seethes out, slipping off his robes and tossing them aside; he’s undressing before you, his cock straining against the material of his undergarment as he looks at you with nothing but rage. Even then, you have the audacity to have confusion swimming in your eyes, helpless to the way he slides you back towards him, your hips pressing together as he lets out a sharp hiss; the sound you let out is enough to distract him for a second, desperate to hear it from you more. 

“I’ve done— nothing!” You say, a cry escaping you in between your sentence as Taehyun thrusts into you roughly. He only seems to be annoyed by your response, his dagger caressing up and down your thigh as he looks at you in a warning. 

“You’re a fool, and you’re afraid to admit that I’ve done nothing wrong,” you pant, your head spinning at the way the dagger scratches against your skin, the pressure applied coming and going as he tilts his head at your words; there’s no curiosity in his gaze, only anticipation that you’ll be stupid enough to finish your thought. 

“And you’re afraid to admit that you’ve fallen for the very person you swore you hated.” 

The response is immediate; he’s slicing through the measly fabric of your underwear, the knife clattering on the table as his hand shoots up to you instead— he cups your jaw, fingers gripping it closed as you glare at him, daring him to do something reckless. 

“You plague my dreams,” he seethes, gaze full of hatred as his cock begins to rub against your folds; he’s leaking and desperate, able to feel the way you’re soaking wet for him despite barely being touched. 

“I thought of you every night. You visited me, didn’t you, you sly thing?” His tip is prodding at your entrance, teasing you by only slipping it in before he backs out, fangs sinking into his lip as he stares at you like a predator who just caught his next meal, “you wanted me to cave in and visit you, to bring all those fantasies to life.” 

“You’re a pathetic, weak little thing.” 

It’s inevitable for you to let out a laugh at that; his fingers only dig into your cheeks in response, his jaw clenching as he stares at you like you aren’t even worth his time. Yet here you are accused of a crime you never committed, pinned under the king as he looks at you with pure, unrivaled hatred. 

Smiling, you take him in carefully; his eyes, blown open with lust and frustration, his body that keens and bends to seek your touch— he calls you pathetic, yet is unable to let go of you for a second. 

“Your Highness,” you whimper out, a teary gaze and quivering lip greeting Taehyun as tears bubble up at your pretty eyes. He can only feel another hot wave of lust course through him, leaning in closer to hear your pathetic pleas.

“I don’t specialize in love spells.” 

He pulls away like a man that’s been burned; he scowls, only to find that your legs have already locked him in, a whiny moan leaving your lips as you urge him to enter you. 

“Your Highness,” you whine, shivering at the way he slowly enters you, your hand reaching up for his nape; you cling onto him, bringing him back down as you allow him to hover over you, shaky breaths intertwining with each other as he stretches you out perfectly. You feel so full, so good, velvet walls clenching around him like a vice as he lets out a shaky sigh, head bowing down and resting by your shoulder, his forearms barely able to hold him up as you let out sweet sounds just for him.

“Your Highness, I’m so honored you think of me so much,” you cry, enjoying the way he tenses against you. There you go again— unstoppable even in the most uncanny situations, your annoying quips igniting his rage as his will to put you in your place is strengthened; straightening, he grabs onto your hips, fingers digging in and massaging the soft flesh as his eyes grow cold. Scanning your body, he’s still able to take in the way you’re flushed and needy, hips attempting to move subtly to gain stimulation from him. 

His left hand leaves a bruising grip on your skin; if you think you won, you’re dead wrong.

“Honored…” he mutters, the knife pointed back at your throat as he bottoms out in you; his hips are pressed firmly against yours, but you’ve gone stiff, unable to ignore the dangerous pressure applied to your skin. Tilting his head, he tuts, his other hand reaching for the ribbon of his discarded robes; before you know it, you’ve been tied up, unable to move your wrist as they’re tied tightly together— Taehyun smiles, the pretty ribbon tied in a neat bow against your skin. The dagger is back against your throat as his right-hand guides your wrists above your head, his eyes twinkling as he takes in your weakened state.

“Yes. You should be.” 

You can’t help the way you flinch as Taehyun raises the knife threateningly; your eyes screw themselves shut tightly the moment he’s bringing it down, the velocity so intense your heart stops for a second.

The sound of impact from the dagger is heard throughout the whole room. 

A shuddering sigh leaves you— it’s sunk deep into the table, uselessly looking up as Taehyun’s condescending laughter reaches your ears; you try looking up to see where the dagger may have been placed, but it’s no use. Shifting, you go to move your wrists back down. 

Only you can’t move them at all— they’re stuck in place.

Your lips are left open in surprise as Taehyun begins to fuck you with wild abandon, the need to have you a mess under him plaguing his mind as his hands grip onto your hips fiercely. He’s rough, relentless, and cruel as you cry out, unable to ignore the fire that ignites in your stomach as he brutally thrusts into you. 

Your eyes are fluttering shut as the feeling of your body rocking to his thrusts makes your head spin, your hands clenched in a tight fists as you bring your arms close together; your eyes open in alarm, meeting his gaze as your arms brush against the sharp blade of the dagger, scratching your skin as he grins at you teasingly. 

Taehyun doesn’t know how to identify the torrents of emotions that course through him; you look better than any dream he’s been haunted by, your eyes softened and filled with lust, your curves and skin warm under his palms as your thighs ensnare him, luring closer as your cunt only pulls him in more; the sounds of skin on skin fill the room, his needy sounds mixing with your own as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each rough thrust, his tip kissing your cervix and your skin blossoming with marks he inflicted onto you from rage. 

You’re here under him, bound and begging for more. You’re so soft, intoxicating, and frustrating as he finds himself unable to keep his hands off you, his mind wandering to the countless images and scenarios he can finally fulfill with you. 

You’re so warm and tight; Taehyun has to slow his hips as he feels the way you begin to keen and cry, your hips bucking up as your gaze meets his— it’s demanding, entitled yet still innocent as you’re brought closer to your high. 

But he won’t allow you— not as long as you continue to deny him, to deny the way you’ve been calling for him from the very start. There’s something else, and he knows it; his body is eerily attuned to yours, able to tell what you’re feeling and how to please you from the very moment his lips crashed against yours. 

“These dreams,” he pants, gritting his teeth as his nails dig into the delicate skin of your hips, “what do they mean— what have you done to me?” 

“I told you— I’ve done nothing—!” The whimper that escapes you is weak and defeated as his hand encases your throat, leaving you lightheaded as his hips begin to roll curiously; it’s instinct, and Taehyun doesn’t know how he does it, but he’s quickly able to find the spot that has your mind emptying, bound hands thrashing above your head as you cry for more. 

“What dreams?” You manage to say, exasperated as his hips still, the feeling of his thick cock pulsing inside you driving you mad and making you lose yourself. You’re truly clueless as to what Taehyun speaks of, your eyes struggling to remain open as his hold on you remains. 

“Dreams,” he begins, his hand leaving you as you gasp for air— his hand trails down, caressing the column of your throat before his fingers tease along your chest, along your stomach before he finally finds his place at your clit; his fingers as teasing and calloused as they rub meticulous circles along the bud, the pace and pressure eerily similar to that of your own, knowing better than anyone how to pleasure yourself on nights where you dare to let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t.

“Dreams of you. Here, under me, just as you are now— begging for me to touch,” his hips are moving again, your brows furrowing as you bite your lip desperately, “to please.” 

Leaning down, his lips hover over yours, his gaze one of pure fire as he pulls you closer to him, arms wrapping around your waist as he presses you tightly against him; chest against chest, the slight tug he does to bring you closer making the fabric of the pretty ribbon rip slightly. 

“Dreams where you beg me to ruin you.” 

His words are filthy as his lips are planted firmly against yours; desperate and rough as he doesn’t adhere to your pleasure, his cock filling you so nicely as the feeling of his body pressing against yours like a fire that continues to pull you in. 

A small yelp leaves you as Taehyun grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back as you’re forced to stare at the ceiling, his undeniably soft hair tickling your face as he proceeds to whisper things that make your blood run cold. 

“You’re there, in my dreams as you beg for me to ravish you at any given moment,” he growls, unable to hold back the memory of it all as his frustrations pile up and tumble out through his tongue, “filthy little thing— in my gardens, the corridors, my bed.” 

Your heart pounds at his confessions; your nails dig into the palm of your hands, the images jumping into your mind so vividly you’d almost think you lived through it all already. 

“My throne,” he groans, biting at your neck as his hand wanders around your body.

“Begging me to touch you here,” his fingers ghost over the sensitive flesh of your breasts, “crying when I do this,” the sound that leaves you is inexplicable as he times a perfectly calculated thrust into your sweet spot, abusing the sensitive area as he watches the way you melt under him, just as expected as he finds himself scowling at you. 

“Everything you begged me to do, I remember it perfectly,” he mutters, your eyes tearing up as you feel his fingers play relentlessly with your clit, “don’t you?” 

You’re terrified of what this means; these dreams that have plagued you as well, a hidden and dirty secret you wished to hide more than anything. You remember it all, the way he pleased you like no other, able to read his emotions perfectly as you did the same; every day you were forced to live with the shame and denial of these occurrences, obligated to face him and pretend like you hadn’t been calling his name out desperately the night before— only, it seems he had done the same this entire time. 

What could this mean? The possibilities swim through your head, yet you refuse to come to a conclusion as you feel the way Taehyun only grows rougher with you, still waiting for a response as he feels the way you grow needy and desperate for him. 

It’s terrifying to see how attuned he is to you— because he’s quick to pull away just as you were about to be pushed over to the edge, left to be nothing but a sweaty and needy mess as you whine weakly for him to stop being cruel. You’re helpless, the slick feeling of your wetness spreading all through your inner thighs driving Taehyun insane as he watches the way you weakly struggle against your binds. 

He’s doing no better than you— but he can control it, even as you clench tightly around him in futile attempts to bring him closer to the edge. Yet his voice is traitorous against him as he lets out a weak groan, unable to ignore the way his heart pounds harder at the sight of you, ruined before him. 

“You know,” he breathes out, the realization dawning on him as he watches the way you refuse to meet his eyes. But in the end, you have no choice, your face grabbed as you’re turned roughly to look at Taehyun; his gaze is intense, as though he can read your thoughts as his eyes search yours, “Damn it, you know.” 

“Tell me,” he says, desperate as you press your lips together firmly, your refusal to speak only angering him more as he sneers at you, “As your ruler, I command you to tell me.”

Shakily, your lips part— you’ve seen all this happen before, always feeling jealousy for others as you recounted every symptom, memorizing it all as you wished silently to have something like this for your own. But as you stare at Taehyun, angry and relentless as he waits for you to respond, you can’t help the way your stomach sinks with dread. 

Taehyun is able to hear what you say without you having to form a single word— and it terrifies him, his body stiffening as he takes in what you tell him.

Soulmates. 

It feels as though the fire in his heart has intensified; his body feels strange, heated and tingly as he stares at you, able to tell that you’re doing no better than him as you begin to breathe shakily. 

Taehyun thinks this might be the worst outcome of all; despite his stubborn pride, his soul begs to get closer to you, begs him to move his hips and please you as you shift restlessly beneath him— even though he’s felt nothing but hate for you on the surface, deep inside he finds himself unable to resist you.

It infuriates him.

Stuck with you, he realizes, brows furrowing as he grips your hips tightly; he’s lost all control, allowing his soul and instinct take over as he watches the way you fall apart beneath him— it’s horrible, feeling the way his heart speeds at the way you desperately beg for more, attempting to cling to his facade he’s kept up for so long; these feelings he’s suppressed for so long, that he thought he was insane for having, were meant to be after all— he’ll never get rid of you. 

“Fuck,” he stutters, gulping as his hands automatically go to keep you close, hips snapping ruthlessly into you as he finds himself addicted, your perfect sopping cunt bringing him back in and making him lose all control, “so… so good.” 

It’s all falling apart; everything he worked so hard to keep up is tumbling down, out of his control as this new realization seems to tug his soul closer to you— he finds himself addicted, a curious thought nagging at him as he leans down to taste your swollen and bitten lips, the same that reminded him of the roses in his garden he so meticulously ordered others to care for.

He’s everywhere; his hands, his lips, his cock, so overwhelming in the best ways possible as you find your mind blanking out. 

Soulmates, you think, eyes shutting tightly as he continues to fuck you into the table, rocking roughly as your arms become sore from their awkward position, soulmates… yes. You become more open to the thought, his touch suddenly intoxicating as it all becomes less than enough, the need to have him so impossibly close tugging at your mind. 

“Say,” he starts, gulping roughly as he finds himself unable to concentrate, “Say my name. Call out for me.” 

You’re in too deep; both of you are, breaching unknown territory as he hungrily waits for you to follow his commands. You’re unsure what to do, voice shaky and breathy as you finally muster the courage to call him by the only name you ever have. 

“Your highness…” you breathe out, watching as he shakes his head in denial; he’s insistent, the sudden need to fulfill this very last memory that haunted him every waking second much stronger than before, his gaze piercing as he hovers over you, lips brushing against yours as he mutters quietly. 

“My name.” 

It’s instinct, your eyes meeting his as you feel your high approaching, intense and heavy like a wave as you arch your back, pressing firmly into him as your eyes shine with tears, as though you could melt into one soul if you tried hard enough.

“Taehyun.”

The name feels like an aphrodisiac on your lips; Taehyun must feel the same, for he finds himself crashing down at that, the sound of your sweet whine not comparable to the pathetic echoes that faintly haunted him during his waking days. He’s a shaky, shuddering mess as he allows himself to kiss you through it, continuing to fuck you even though he fills you with countless spurts of his hot cum. You groan, thighs shaking as you feel the way his pelvis rubs onto your clit, still managing to bring you to the edge as you clench around him tightly. 

Your moans mix into each other, bodies pressed so tightly together that you don’t know where he ends and you begin; it’s strange, the way you feel so at peace even as he overstimulates you, hips rocking relentlessly with every broken moan of his name you let out.

You can’t get enough of it— it feels like candy in your mouth, the feeling of him smiling slyly against your lips alarming as the weight of everything begins to weigh down on you. It seems like hours before Taehyun finally straightens, watching as a ring of his cum has formed on his shaft, a weak groan escaping him as he takes in the way your inner thighs are painted with it prettily. 

Slowly, his hungry gaze meets yours; then he remembers everything, jaw clenching as he wonders just how this all came to be. 

He hates it, the way his heart calls to you despite the frustration that consumes him when he looks at you— he hates the way you make him feel weak; even now that you’re bound and left at his mercy, you don’t seem to realize the way you have him wrapped around his finger.

He gulps, the lump in his throat heavy as he watches your pretty eyes, all glossy and fucked out, much better than anything he could have dreamed of as he feels his cock twitching inside you once more. 

Everything he ever feared came true— it seems you’ve become his fatal weakness.

His soulmate. 

[jellipuff]

Little one.

Pairing: Jeonghan x reader

Genre: Smut (18+, Minors dni!).

Wordcount: 1.9k

Summary: He lays by you in his silk pajama shirt that’s buttoned a bit too little and hangs a bit too low. His chest suddenly makes you aware of your all too empty mouth. Being the attentive lover he is he can’t have that now can he?

Warnings: Dom!jeonghan, Afab reader (no gendered terms are used.), One mention of reader having a chubby 🐱, this is literally just about sucking his nipples, Marking, Slight mutual masturbation (bc he’s a lil meanie & reader doesn’t even notice bc they looove him.), Pet names: Reader (sweetheart, little one, baby), Jeonghan (hannie.), Mentions of reader telling him not to run his fingers through their hair/undo it, Him finding a way to play with readers hair that leaves them both happy bc he loooves them. Implied bottom!jeonghan, he mentions letting reader fill him up cause is it a story of mine if men aren’t needy for that? Implied pegging/topping. (I think that’s it!)

A/n: Hi guys! this got 🚩so i’m having to repost with a community label bc i think that’s what i’m supposed to do if this happens? (leave knowledge/tips on that if you can plz!!) i love pretty men that give their partners pretty love & guide their partner to their pretty chest. So i wrote about it! this is so soft yet the thought makes me spin. LOL but I hope you like it! Also, don't like, don't read‼️ No need to burn me at the stake friend.  Feedback is appreciated :)

You lay flat against the pillows waiting for Jeonghan to finish drying his hair. You watch him point the hairdryer underneath causing his long hair to fly up. He focuses longer there and at his ends knowing they take the longest to dry. He finishes and walks over to where you lay watching, giving you a warm smile causing your heart to skip.

You love Jeonghan, everything about him is your comfort. He’s your home in so many ways that you only yearn for him at the end of the day. Not your bed or a hot shower, just his embrace and love.

He hasn’t even laid beside you yet and you can already catch the scent of vanilla with a tinge of spice. The scent itself encapsulates your lover perfectly. He is so sweet and caring, always seeming to know what makes you happy, what makes you laugh, and what makes you feel safe.

Your lover is also very alluring; his existence alone teases you. Leaving you craving at all hours and leaving him; your attentive lover to know what you need. 

Finally, he's by your side lying to your right as he props himself onto his left side making his front face you. From this position you can't help but feel small, jeonghan feels as if he's towering over you even if he's not. His presence alone makes you want only to listen, never to lead. It makes you want to only please him, the thought of your pleasure vacant from your mind. 

He makes the hand that is behind you busy by playing with your hair. He doesn't run his fingers through it, he doesn't pull apart the work you've done because you've told him not to. Taught him other ways to busy himself there. So as he slightly pats your hair in different spots, leaving a bit more pressure here and a small scratch there you can't help but think you’re lucky. 

You notice his silk black pajama top that manages to slightly shine under the dim lights. You notice the way it’s barely buttoned, leaving it to slide slightly off of his figure. His position of lying beside you makes it stay open, giving you a peek inside. 

You've always loved his chest, the slight muscle that has built up there never fails to make you want to bite him. Just as much as seeing his pretty nipples makes your lips tingle with the need to wrap around them.

Jeonghan must see you staring because he calls you. You look up, finding him smiling at you. He scans your face before bringing his hand to it, dragging the knuckle of his index finger across your cheek. His eyes never leave yours as he caresses both. You try to not blink but your mind is against the idea. You want to close your eyes to feel every shock his touch sends through your body. 

“Can I kiss you little one?” he asks. His voice not cutting through the serenity of the quiet only seeming to add to it. You open your eyes to stare into his, feeling his love be conveyed. “Yes.” you whisper out. 

There is no need to be louder when he goes to close in. His lips never fail to leave you floating. The gentle way they take yours has your senses heightened. Leaving you to try and feel more. 

More of their softness and more of the warmth that starts in your lungs reaching your throat until you disconnect.  You are both so close it's as if you breathe in and out the same air, your bodies finding another way to connect. 

“What were you peeking at earlier baby?” he questions as he messes with your baby hairs that have wisped up. “Your chest.” you answer, eyes moving across his face. Admiring the way his skin glows under the moonlight that casts in from your windows.

“Mhm, do you like what you saw?” he asks. You both know the answer, know that you will always like what you see. 

“Yes, your chest is so pretty. Already so handsome and your chest is getting fuller & stronger. It's making me go crazy.” you confess, letting your eyes scan down to where you only see a glimpse of what lies underneath. Jeonghan preens at the hearts he can practically see in your eyes. His baby obsessed with every part of him, your attention nor lust ever straying anywhere else. 

“You wanna see 'em, baby? Want to see how strong they’ve gotten? Feel how warm the shower made them?” he whispers gruffly into your ear, leaning away with a kiss at your quick nod. He leans up to undo the two buttons that are barely holding the shirt together. 

You watch as the last one is undone, his shirt opening to reveal the slight indent forming between his pecs. Showing the efforts of his recent lifting. The slight muscle paired with his pretty nipples is making you needy.

They perk at being fully exposed to the chilly air, a slightly darker shade of dusty rose is what meets the eye. They’re small yet the perfect size to make your teeth itch with the need to bite them. You get lost in the moment of what you consider a reward, you'd go to sleep peacefully even if all you got to do was stare…Horny but peacefully!

“It's almost like you forgot I was even here, so caught up on them.” he laughs as he slips the shirt off of his left arm only. He moves back to your side making his scent cloud your senses once more. “Never could forget you, love you too much” You slur slightly and he smiles. Jeonghan loves you much more. Finding your seriousness to his teasing so cute.

He pulls your head closer to his chest. You immediately try to grab at it but he stops you. 

“Don’t disappoint me, love, What do you say?” he inquires sternly. “Please hannie?” you plead easily, leaving him satisfied with your obedience. “Go on sweetheart.”

You don’t waste any time as you suck on his left nipple. Taking the bud into your mouth earnestly. Laying your tongue flat against it as you move it up and down & using your hand to pinch at the other. 

The warmth of his skin radiates. You being so close makes it seem as if he's warming you up. Under your palm, on your tongue, against your cheek, all of him causing heat to envelop you. 

You hear him sigh, petting your hair back as you switch actions. Taking his right nipple into your mouth; flicking it with the tip of your tongue. “Look at you baby, does it feel good?” he asks and you moan against him. The vibrations seem to add to the stimuli of your mouth on his nipple causing him to whimper softly. 

“You look so cute sucking on my chest sweetheart, almost makes me want to let you fill me up. You’d like that wouldn’t you little one? Filling my ass up and feeling me all around you.” he says between moans, you having started to rub him through his matching pajama bottoms. The thin silk does little to omit any pleasure. 

At the thought of filling him up, you detach yourself from him. Moving around his chest to suck at the skin, watching pretty blotches bloom. You leave bites along with the kisses you press. Leaving a few darker ones in the middle of his pecs, and around his areola. Seeing your teeth indents fuels you to continue. 

“Leaving marks all over me. You want everyone to know I’m yours baby?” he pushes his chest closer to your wandering mouth, seeking your answer and your lips.

“Only mine, pretty chest is only for me.” you groan possessively. Feeling the need to suck harder, apply more pressure to your bite, and make him cum from your touch just to prove a point. He's only yours. Your powerful boyfriend, your attentive lover, your gentle hannie.

Yours, yours, yours.

He spreads your legs, leaving your soaked panties to his eyes. “Look at how needy you are. Is this all for Hannie baby, all for me?” he asks as he slides your panties to the side, chubby lips keeping them at bay. “Always for you, Only need you.” you moan out. 

The way he slides through your folds gently reminds you that if you did that it would feel like nothing. Yet when he does it it's so good, when he does it you would say thank you a million times as you cum from his slender fingers. 

“Sucking on my chest and stroking my dick alone gets you like this? I barely even grazed your clit and you're leaking so much baby, how adorable.” he teases.

In your hand you feel him twitch, from where you lay you can feel his chest rising as his breath quickens. The smell of mint hits your nose as his breath fans against your ear. You want to cum with him, want to feel his cum puddle in your hand. You wanna feel his cock jump as your hole clenches in unison. You, Hannie’s sweetheart, get to cum by him, cum with him.

You go back to biting his nipple, pressing the bud between your teeth before soothing it with your tongue. So tiny, so biteable. Your boyfriend is so alluring, so handsome, making you forget how you even used to cum without him.

You lift your hips trying to seek more pleasure from the feather-like touch but he stops you. Taking his hand away from your heat and replacing where yours held him with his own. Tugging at his cock with a cocky laugh, one you can't get mad at because it's so close to your ear you have to close your eyes.

“Ah ah, little one. You can’t cum yet you know that. I said you could play with my chest, not touch my cock but you did. You were working so hard so I let it slide.” he admits, his breath hitching slightly as he toys with his tip.

“So don't get greedy. I was even thinking about taking your hand and using it to finish. You love it when I use you sweetheart but now you only get to watch me touch myself. How sad.” he berates you, his tone cocky. He wants to be a little mean because he's curious as to what you'll say now that you've been told you can only watch as strokes himself, that you can't make him cum. That you're not allowed to cum. 

Though he only sees your eyes light up, mind only hearing that you were working hard and that you get to watch him get himself off and that's enough to make you happy.

─﹒☆﹒─

Later that night Jeonghan is the one left craving and he simply can't be left there alone. Telling you to stand up as he goes to get the strap, picking out the dildo he needs to feel you fuck into him right now. He moves to kneel on the bed before leaning down on his hands, back arched pretty and cock leaking below. He turns from where his face is pressed against the mattress; “You know what to do little one, make me cum with your cock, and maybe I’ll give you mine?”

[oh-my-may]

LET'S TALK GENSHIN AND REMURIA AND ARLECCHINO BEFORE I FORGET AND WE'RE ALREADY IN SECOND HALF OF THE PATCH WHY DOES TIME FLY WHEN YOU'RE AN ADULT

I'm gonna start the post with a few paragraphs I wrote just a few days after the patch went live:

So I finished the first Remuria world quest - it was beautiful. And really not as long as I first expected it to be. I probably could have finished it on the first day if I wouldn't have been as tired as I was

First of all the new map is beautiful. You'd think after 3? patches of map expansions where we already got underwater stuff it would feel repetetive but somehow it looks and feels different and refreshing. Maybe because majority of the map are caves where you can walk normally or they're ruins... idk.

I couldn't help but draw parallels between Remuria and HSR's Penacony tho, especially look-wise, the talk of a dreamscape and the theme of music. Especially now after finishing Penacony 2.2 I can't help but feel the two are very similar in certain aspects... the motive of Harmony and Song and Peace and saving a people and Gods? Also the way Remuria looks is so similar to certain things in Penacony? I already said rhis in my post on HSR, this is absolutely no hate whatsoever. I reckon there's only so much you can do with these motives? It's interesting how differently it looks in both games tho.

So yeah, Remuria is beautiful. The music is an out of body experience and encapsulates the whole thing perfectly. I haven't explored all of the map yet, but I like the new mechanisms a lot. The floating books look so cool and just generally the significance of music through it all... *sigh* it's so enjoyable.

So far for Remuria... i definitely missed a few things I wanted to say but it's been like 2 weeks since I played this and I definitely forgot something haha

AS FOR ARLECCHINO THO

First of all she's broken omg. It is kind lf annoying that it'll take weeks to max out her talents, rn for me she's sitting at crowned NA and skill and burst are level 7 each. But she still hits for like over 50k with each normal attack when she has a bond of life. Don't even get me started on her with Yelan MY GOD.

Okay with that out of the way let me talk about her story quest. First of all I find it very intriguing that hyv gave up on the usual pattern of having the second weekly boss for a nation be tied to the Archon and their respective second story quest (besides Mond ig)... i mean yeah Fontaine's archon situatipn is very peculiar but technically Neuvilette has taken over the role for now, right? Neither him nor Furina getting a second story quest makes me think Neuvi's probably gonna get his way later because it'll be HUGE. Again I wanna say that lore wise Neuvi is my fav character... HES JUST SO FNDNDBDN. And Furina is probably gonna get a pretty "random" one at one point kinda like Yoimiya did or Cyno... like its gonna be a good quest but it'a gonna be random. ANYWAY

I wonder how much different I would habe perceived the quest if I hadn't watched the Animated Short about Arlecchino that they put on Youtube... like it's her whole backstory? I could see where the quest was going right from the beginning because of it... that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy it, tho

Childe's little surprise cameo made me so happy c: MY BOY. He's alive snd well AND IN FONTAINE. Let me remind ypu we last officially saw him in the last Atchon quest gwtting yeeted into a black hole by Skirk. Then it was mentioned at the end that he was being treated and sent gome to Snezhnaya. Well...

The whole cryptic talk between Arle and Childe was quite interesting... so this project by the Fatui, right? (Forgot the name rn bc it's been a few days since I played the quest) Is it fonna be significant for Natlans story? What does it entail?? THE TEASE NNNNGNNGHH

I wonder if at some point in the game we're actually gonna see Lyney become the new head of House of the Hearth. Like... it's mentioned quite a lot in his story as well as in everything that has tp do with the House and Sröecchino herself... I wonder 🤔

Throughout the story I was reminded that one of the first things we heard about her (Childes voiceline that came out in like??? 3.0 or so???). It was that she would turn her back on and betray the Harbingers (AND THE TSARISTA) without second thought. She even says this herself in her voicelines. I just wonder what her ultimate goal is? To free herself from the curse? Which btw they tell us nothing about in the story. Story is all about the House and its inner workings and Arle's feelings about it and plans for the future (which I love btw but still not quite understand)... we also casually get told that Arle is not even that old??? Like the whole thing with Crucabena is so recent that Freminet remembers her???? Amd Arle was maybe a Teenager when she killed her so like??? She's only around 10 years older than the kids????

So how come she's a descendant from Khaenri'ah? I don't know if I read somewhere abput it or if its a rumor but not confirmed or if its said in her personal story which I haven't read yet but... she'a from the crimson moon dynasty? Or has some ties to it? And her curse is definitely related to it BUT WHAT IS HER CURSE EXACTLY. WHY DOES SHE HAVE IT. If she's only in maybe her late 20s she couldn't have been an actual Khaenriahn citizen (same as Kaeya and he still gives me the same headache thinking about this) so how does it all tie together in the end?? Does it have to do with the God of time maybe??? (Nevermind if this is talked about in her personal story in her profile I haven't read that yet)

So yeah... the fight woth her was so cool. The animation??? I saw people get upset about the fact that Traveler couldn't beat her but I actually love that?? Like... She'a #4 of the Harbingers and has some curse probably tied to Khaenriah and she KILLED A HARBINGER WHEN SHE WAS A TEENAGER??? Traveler nlt being this almighty MC makes them so much mlre likeable like yeah... they are obv far from having their actual power back? It took us ... how many times to fight Shuki No Kami before we could defeat it in the final try to learn all the patterns? The game wants to tell us that there's much more powerful enemies in Teyvat and rhis is only the beginning. Let me tell you yeah we beat Signora but it was Raiden who killed her... it was Zhongli who subdued Azhdaha. We only healed Apep with Nahidas help. Traveler has never been able to easily defeat these big enemies, they always had help. Yeah they have been getting stronger, they've been getting access to more elements but the bis enemies are just getting stronger and bigger too... I wonder where that will lead. Maybe the twins are only gonna get their true power bavk once they're united... ANYWAY

Her weekly boss fight is cool too. Using different mechanisms again, with the whole Bond of Life thing and all. She does this one attack in her second phase that I just... can't get behind tho. Someone always has to be the victim, THE SACRIFICE, to get me through haha. Idk how to dodge or avoid that attack. The one where she floats above the arena and then these bombs? Idk? Come down and basically crash down on the whole arena and I haven't found a spot where you can aboid getting hit and therefore killed immediately idk.

So yeah that's all for now. Very excited to play Cyno's second story quest. Heard only good things so far about it, which is good because I really didn't like his first one 💀 probably gonna get around to play it one of these days. Same as with the rest of Remuria exploration, gonna need mlre Clorinde funds :3

(Gonna add screenshots later, it's been so long that the ones I took aren't saved in the PS App anymore 💀)

[tequiilasunriise]

Wenclair is great as goth x pastels, sunshine x storm cloud, black cat x golden retriever, sun and moon life and death yin and yang etc etc etc-

BUT!

Have y’all considered how perfectly their vibes encapsulate:

✨ao3 gf x wattpad gf✨

Headcanons below! This got super long sorry not sorry!

Enid is SO a trashy unapologetic wattpad writer who uses text to speech to throw together her surprisingly popular fanfics

Wednesday is a sophisticated ao3 user who secretly enjoys getting constructive criticism of her novels and other short stories that she posts there

Enid is the typa author to reply to EVERY comment with heartfelt messages and plenty of emojis

Wednesday is the typa author to never reply to comments but deep down enjoys the kudos and compliments

Enid is a oneshot funshot queen, meanwhile Wednesday has several multi-chapter works going on at the same time

Enid has a super spontaneous updating schedule where she’ll post when she posts

Wednesday updates her works every Wednesday (on the nose I know) and follows a STRICT schedule, she has never missed an update day not fer anything ever

Enid prolly has a cutesy username like ‘kittygotclaws’ or smth idk I dont go on wattpad

Wednesday goes by ‘DaysEnd’ on ao3 and REALLY it's quite on the nose

Everyone knows of Enid's wattpad acc bc she openly talks about it even on her blog, everytime a fic hits some sorta milestone she flexes it to the whole friend group like some sorta proud soccer mom

Wednesday is SUPER SECRETIVE about her ao3 acc, Thing is the only soul who knows of it bc he helps beta read

DaysEnd being a rising ao3 fan favorite amongst the Nevermore student body omg so true so slay of you Miss Addams (she tells Thing she does not care for such popularity but deep down revels in people actually appreciating her work, unlike some publishers out there)

They really like her strong imagery, plot twists, and her stories are pretty gore-heavy but the narration is quite compelling (seriously, she goes so in depth on random macabre shit like different types of murders, ways to cover up said murders, poisons and upkeep on daggers and all this dark shit etc etc that a popular comment she’ll get is ‘hey not to be rude but whats your search history like because how do you KNOW all this??’)

Meanwhile Enid mainly writes fanfics of her fav kpop bands and other OTPs that are often AUs or canon divergent heavy, sometimes she’ll pop off with the most hilarious fanfic that is pure CRACK

That being said, Enid’s works have some pretty damn good dialogue I just know it in my bones that she’s a character driven type of writer

Her emotional introspection is also? Surprisingly good?? Like damn when the feels hit they HIT, Enid is definitely the type to write the fluffest fluff, the angstiest angst, and the most cathartic hurt/comfort you’ll ever read if you make the conscious decision to look past her occasional grammatical errors and other typos

Wednesday’s original works, on the other hand, definitely aren't as much of a heartthrob, they’re probably more plot driven with less space for overly descriptive emotional scenes (both writing styles are valid as hell, mind you)

One day Enid discovers Wednesday’s secret ao3 and lives to tell the tale because deep down Miss Addams is a GAY GAY HOMOSEXUAL GAY

In exchange for keeping hush hush, Wednesday has to become Enid’s full-time beta reader for every. Single. Fic.

Wednesday HATES such drivel but agrees to such terms in order to keep her secret safe, much to Thing’s teasing delight over how soft she is for her fellow writer (“For producing such literary muck, she does not even deserve the privilege to tarnish such a title.” “I know what you are, Wednesday.” “What kind of threat is that?”)

I mean that being said, Wednesday gets low key invested in the sapphic otp fanfics Enid seems to have a penchant for writing when the fic isn’t kpop centered, her interest stems from uh nooooo reassooonnn noshutupThingthisdoesntmeananything-

When Enid brings up branching out to writing about OCs like Wednesday does-

Wednesday hates fandom terms like ‘OCs’ btw

-Wednesday encourages Enid to branch out in a very… Wednesdayish way

Like, she’s supportive but you gotta unpeel at least three layers of deflection and deadpanning to get to the real meaning

So yeah!! Enid branches out and starts writing silly little oneshots about various OCs, and if Wednesday notes that all of the stories revolve around gay characters, and if Thing notices how invested Wednesday gets in these silly little sapphics to point where he keeps commenting on it….

Andddd that’s the story of how Enid came back to the dorm with Thing being locked up in the drawer while Wednesday is burying her face in her pillow in what looks like a half-hearted attempt of suffocating herself

Anyways Wednesday’s repressed ass starts to ‘vent’ in her fanfics, if people start noticing DaysEnd incorporating more romance into their works no they don't stfu

It gets to the point where she ‘confesses’ to Enid by having Viper confesses to this new bubbly character that was recently introduced (“These feelings you have plagued me with, you make me sick,” said Viper, “And for my sake, I hope there is no cure.”)

Enid, with a lot I mean a metric fuckton of persuasion from Thing, eventually picks up on this and confesses back

Cue Wednesday beta reading Enid’s latest wattpad work and noticing how it’s about two polar opposite roomates who somehow make it work, and when the cheery one says to the gloomy one, “I also hope there’s no cure for the way I feel about you” it suddenly all clicks for Wednesday

Anyways fanfic gfs who slay together stay together <333

[bumblingest-bee]

hi i’m sorry what the FUCK is the mermaid hamilton rpf what hello

oh my GOD where do i start. this whole incident is my roman empire. i think about it constantly. now the thing is the mermaid rpf isn't even the biggest part of the drama. the big thing was the hivliving scandal. so buckle up and keep your arms inside the vehicle at all times bc this is going to be a ride.

back in like 2016 when the hamilton fandom was at its peak, there was a popular fanfiction author in the fandom named israa. she was kind of known for harassing other people in the fandom and being annoying and self-righteous, but she was mostly known for having written a fic called "to scale the blue sky," which was (and im so sorry you have to read these words) a high school au fic set in the 1980s in which alexander hamilton contracts hiv.

now you may be thinking "why did nobody point out that was deranged on so many levels?" well 1. because it was the hamilton fandom in 2016, and 2. because israa was an activist for hiv+ people and also ran a decently well-known blog called hivliving where she talked about her own experiences as a lesbian woman of color and sex trafficking survivor living with hiv in india.

here's the thing. israa was not actually any of those things. she was secretly a wealthy white teenage college student named alix who very much did not have hiv. she had made up at least two other fake identities (her alleged wife, and her co-mod of hivliving respectively) to basically dodge any criticism of the fact that she was WRITING FANFICTION ABOUT THE HIV CRISIS. oh yeah, and she was receiving donations from her followers to allegedly cover for medical expenses. this wasn't just insane fandom drama, she was literally scamming people out of money.

so NOW you might be wondering "wait, wasn't this meant to be about cannibal mermaid rpf?" well, that's where digoxin-purpurea comes in. they noticed that the money transfer service that "israa" was using to get donations didn't work in india, where israa/alix claimed to be living. from there they unraveled this whole web of lies and confronted alix in tumblr dms, who eventually broke down and admitted to everything (but not before trying to get out of it with more increasingly outlandish excuses). and then digoxin-purpurea, who could have been the hero of the whole story, ruined it by publicly doxxing alix and generally turning out to be kind of a dick.

so the cherry on top of this utterly batshit flaming garbage pile that somehow manages to perfectly encapsulate what being in the hamilton fandom was like in 2016? digoxin-purpurea then got exposed for having written fucking. cannibal mermaid rpf about the cast of hamilton. hence the reference i made in the tags of that other post. and now you have to live with this knowledge forever. im so sorry.

[swampbrick]

OMFGGGG THE SONG FITS PERFECTLY??? Like PERFECTLY

“The fist fights on the beach” like this lyric for example that’s literally TAILOR MADE FOR HIM?? And then the lyrics about anger and how it festers and makes you hurt the people who care about you like it works so well for him💔 just the entire song and the way it depicts teenage rage and loneliness is SO Johnny Lawrence coded, right from his childhood to his adulthood. Thank you for making that post bruh seriously this is going in my playlist🙏 he makes my heart hurt😕💔

and sorry for the long ask lol I was just shocked bc the song works so well

DONT APOLOGIZE THIS IS EVERYTHING IVE EVER WANTED

at face value it’s SO ON THE NOSE for Johnny and his relationships with both Danny— AND Kreese??

“Cold Septembers, the distances we covered” makes me think of the Cobra Kai guys out on their dirt bikes😭 this line is a bit more arbitrary but I can just visualize the scene of the Cobra Kai kids pulling up on the beach on their dirt bikes when I hear this line.

And i feel like it’s SO two-fold; Johnny’s childish anger at Danny, their teenage feud- but also his anger at Kreese. It runs so much deeper because he’s the man who stepped in to fill his father’s and Sid’s shoes and take up the mantle of father figure and he failed him. “That’s the thing with anger; it begs to stick around.” He kept that anger, the childish and the complex, and it festered for so long and changed the entire course of his life. Johnny Lawrence grew up and became a man but he was always haunted by the person he was at 17 and I feel like it’s just such a fitting narrative in the song for everything he went through.

I could ramble about this all day and parse every single line of it, but I just feel like this song fully encapsulates the tragedy that exists in the cracks of Johnny’s life story— and I’m so glad you agree 🥲❤️

[jemmo]

ok. here’s some of my immediate, rambly reactions to eps 3 and 4 of t8s.

first off, i was kinda nervous the entire day. it’s been a while since ive had butterflies like this waiting for a show to air, most recently was the second season of utsukushii kare, but the level it was today was rivalling waiting on a friday for a new bad buddy ep. and the fact this show managed to put me into that state within less than a week is frankly insane, and shows just how down bad i am for it. all that to say, i so soooooo didnt this want this to be a case of me overinflating how good those first 2 eps only for the follow up to not encapsulate the same feelings. all signs were pointing to that not being the case, but still, when you hyperfixate, you kinda get nervous hoping that thing lives up to everything youve built it up to be. and these eps absolutely did that. they didnt just live up to expectations, but are managing to give me scenes and story beats and emotions i just cant predict at this point, and i love that. just how like this budding relationship feels new and unpredictable to jihyun and jaewon, the show is like that for me to watch, and it does wonders for giving me the same butterflies the two are feeling.

but with that unpredictability comes a kind of uncertainty, not knowing whats gonna happen at any turn, and i cant express how much i adore that about these two eps. with the kind of story theyre building, with jaewon’s mental health struggles and his past, with jihyuns nerves and growth in an unfamiliar environment, itd be so easy to make their relationship a shared place of comfort and certainty and familiarity for each other. that place of refuge. and while i feel like that’s what it’ll eventually become, i love that still, in these early stages, the relationship feels so uncertain and almost not guaranteed. it makes you still hang onto every look and touch and word even though theyve already kissed. something about it doesnt feel pre-determined, which is a feeling i get with so many other bl’s when you know, a majority of the time, they’ll get together and have a happy ending. that doesnt feel guaranteed here (even though i pray for that to be the case). instead, it feels like im watching two individuals that are actually having to make a conscious effort in order for this relationship to become something. they have to work for that certainty. and that kind of knife’s edge, it could break at any moment, hanging on every interaction is packed with that specific kind of nervous exhilaration that is so fucking accurate and true to the start of relationship. i seriously cant describe how perfectly they managed to encapsulate that feeling and convey it with such authenticity. its actually ridiculous. seeing those moments, when they’re talking and skirting so closely around the topic of what exactly they are, when then their fingers brush and you are begging for one of them to make the tiniest of moves, to take hold, to make that kind of a statement no matter how small or silent it is, it makes your heart race, bc its new and unknown and in that moment its like your insides are screaming, begging you to embed this sensation into your veins bc you dont know when the next night like this, when the midnight chill and the dusky sky and the hints of alcohol in your system will mix right and make you feel so hedonistically giddy as you do right now at the feeling of that person by your side. and the way they both chase that sensation, how visibly happy it makes them, a craving for each other and that shared thrill only they know, it is just so unbelievably intoxicating to watch. 

i am a person that struggles to sit down and focus. im watching tv but im also knitting, im playing a game but also listening to a podcast. im that person that has to overwhelm my senses to feel sated. this is the first time in a while that ive sat down to watch something and nothing stole my focus, i wasnt distracted, my mind didnt wander. i wasnt concious of the other people walking around my house or the traffic outside or the temperature of the room, i was just fully engrossed. i let every ebb and flow of the scenes and story take me on this path it was guiding me down. and again, thats how they feel. when jihyun and jaewon are alone together, everything else fades away to this dull buzz of background nothingness, they become engrossed in each other, and just as the story pulls me, they pull each other. there’s a constant back and forth, an exchange of setting and challenging boundaries that i adore. when youre getting into a scene, you dont know whos gonna be the one pushing the other. you have jihyun being more forward by the han river, teaching jaewon to draw, then you have jaewon going after jihyun at the library, you have him meeting jihyun after work only for jihyun to ask him to stay and have a drink. its like with every interaction, theyre both asking ‘is this ok?’ and the other asks ‘can we go further?’. i wanna make a whole other post about the nature of their gap in age and experience and all that brings and also how the expectations it brings are subverted, but for now i just wanna say how great it is that there is this balance, and especially that jihyun is allowed to be confident and brave and forward with jaewon, and jaewon is allowed to be reserved and giddy around jihyun. those are experiences so often reserved for the elder and the younger in a relationship, respectively, so to let jihyun be the leader and jaewon the follower, swept up by his feelings and attraction is so refreshing and plays so well into the kind of growth we’re gonna see from these characters and that they need, jihyun growing out of this shy country mouse persona to be more forward and bold, and jaewon being allowed to drop his mask of bravado and letting him be a young person that doesn’t have to be in control of everything. we see that one of his main pressures is the concept of the future, of how simultaneously wide and full of possibilities but also narrow and predetermined that future is for him. he talks about being afraid to lose the comfort of a microcosm like the army of school, even though they are places where he isnt necessarily happy. and then in comes jihyun, something not predetermined, something unexpected, and he takes control of jaewons future in a way by opening up this new path for him. he’s taking some of that stress from jaewon’s shoulders by being an equal and responsive partner in this journey, and offers the chance for jaewon to have something certain in his future, only if he too will work for it. only too if he tries something new, realises that its not too late, and that the anxiety and fear and uncertainty that comes with it may be worth it. bc it may not be guaranteed, but to try instead of never knowing is the only way he can make this possible.

tldr; this show is breath-taking, and im gonna be emo about it for a very long time

[best-underrated-anime]

Best Underrated Anime Group I Round 1: #I4 vs #I5

#I4: Colorblind witch meets her granny’s friends by time travel

Despite the kaleidoscopic magic ingrained in everyday life, Hitomi Tsukishiro's monochrome world is deprived of emotion and feeling. On a night as black and white as any other, amidst the fireworks spreading across the sky, Hitomi's grandmother Kohaku conjures a spell, for which she has been harnessing the moon's light for 60 years, to send Hitomi back in time to the year 2018 when Kohaku was in high school.

Hitomi's mission seems unclear, but her grandmother assures her that she will know when she gets there. Following a trip through time aboard a train driven by a strange yellow creature, Hitomi finds herself in stoic artist Yuito Aoi's room, and his drawings flood her world with color. What is Hitomi's purpose there, and why do Yuito's drawings return such breathtaking color to her drab world?

#I5: Comfort-food anime, 4 guys managing a cafe

Kyousui "Sui" Tougoku inherits a traditional Japanese-style cafe called Rokuhoudou from his grandfather, which he manages alongside Gregorio "Gure" Valentino, Tokitaka Nagae, and Tsubaki Nakao. Their hospitality par excellence undoubtedly turns any one-time visitor into a regular. Having gone through their own share of trials and tribulations, the staff at this modest cafe do their best to serve their customers—whether it be through tea, sweets, or even helping with the various troubles one may have.

Although most days pass pleasantly, the small world of Sui and his friends takes an unexpected path when their reputation as a cafe flourishes overnight.

Titles, propagandas, trailers, and poll under the cut!

#I4: Iroduku: The World in Colors

Propaganda:

It’s the kind of show I only watched once, but it stayed with me to this day. It has a unique story that, despite having supernatural elements, feels grounded in human emotions the most. A rare but solid example of magical realism.

The premise is so original, yet very easy to grasp from a start. The time-travel and magic simply lay a groundwork for the story to carry on. If you were ever frustrated by how in supernatural shows there isn’t enough time to explore characters’ emotional depth bc plot, then this anime will be a delightful breather for you. Because the whole show is about the main character’s healing process, learning to overcome her fears, opening up to others… It’s a journey of a lonely, broken person who finds meaning to her life in a distant timeline. And it’s wonderful and painful on all levels.

The visuals, animation, background art are all stunning. Usage of colour is meaningful, to portray heroine’s colourblindess with proper weight. The show isn’t black/white for the viewers, but when she sees colours, they truly make them shine. Soundtrack wise, ending song is heartbreakingly beautiful and encapsulates the feeling of the whole series perfectly.

TL;DR: It's magical but not intense. Sad but comforting.

(I hope I did it justice. Pls watch it, it has 12 eps that are 100% enough for this story <3 )

Trigger Warnings: Not stated.

#I5: Rokuhou-dou Yotsuiro Biyori

Propaganda:

The overall calming atmosphere of the café and the peace good food can bring—this forms the basis of the human interaction happening at Rokuhoudou, the café. We see people finding comfort in the food they have while at the café, and it seriously so sweet. A lot of people might enjoy this.

Trigger Warnings: None.

If you’re reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

[nakanotamu]

What's Kairi been like since she returned to Stardom?

When she first came back, she said "I was Kairi Hojo, then I was Kairi Sane, and now I'm just KAIRI" and honestly I think that's proved to be a rather good encapsulation of who she's been since she came back.

She doesn't shy away from her past at all, referencing past relationships and events, and frequently drawing on parts of her character that are very identifiably what she was like before. Sometimes she's very visibly Kairi Hojo, an overwhelmed underdog babyface pushing herself past the limits of reason. More frequently she's visibly still Kairi Sane, a bit of a weirdo and a huge dickhead who loves getting under people's skin, not seemingly out of maliciousness but bc she finds it entertaining, particularly when she's teaming with Nanae Takahashi. But there's a new, added element on top of it it too.

She's experienced now, and she's ~world travelled~, to be frank, she knows she's a big deal. She's a little aloof, and seems to see herself as a lot above everyone. (Except for maybe Mayu, but that's a more specific relationship than this post needs to get into.) She uses the suffix -kun for nearly everyone, which is extremely overly familiar to the point of rudeness. It's like when someone goes around calling everyone "buddy" in a way that makes it clear they are certainly not actually buddies.

And then, more recently, she started losing. (She only lost like 2 matches but, given she only wrestles infrequently and kind of assumes she can take everyone, that had her rattled.) Stardom is progressing and she looks around at an increasingly unfamiliar landscape that is catching up with her. The more she gets involved, the more clear it is how disconnected she actually is. When she first came back she quickly buddied up with Mayu, who was happy to team with her for a big return pop. But later last year, once they were set to actually face each other, Mayu was like, to paraphrase, "Yeah I can't fucking stand her. I think she's a bigshot who doesn't work for it anymore and picks and chooses her spots to look good and doesn't deserve the hype." So that's certainly not someone she can rely on to have her back. Her biggest ally so far had been Nanae Takahashi, based on a return to their tag team from like 8 years ago, and Nanae seems genuinely very fond of her, but also has her own stuff going on, and Kairi lost with her, so she's prioritizing that relationship a bit less after that.

So she reaches out to basically her only remaining connections at this point - Natsupoi, who is obsessed with her, and Saori Anou, who along with Natsumipoi showed up to save her from being shortstaffed years ago, when they first established their connections to Stardom, to challenge for the Artist belts. And sidenote, but even the connections she draws on sort of show how out of the loop she is. Like, this is stuff going back 6, 7, 8 years. Ancient history in joshi time.

They both agree to team together, obviously, but it's not just some perfect team that immediately comes together with everyone loving each other. Poi likes Anou, but is sceptical about teaming with such a major rival of hers, about even having her around. And, what's more, Kairi is her idol, but once she gets this opportunity, she needs to sit and think a little bit, because she realizes she's kind of just sad she's not teaming with Tam for it. And Saori seems perfectly content to team with them, but pretty quickly, the way I see it, tips her hand that she's actually there to be beside Tam again, and Kairi is almost more a means to an end for her, with how quickly she stepped up and told Tam she would join Cosmic Angels, before she'd even had her first match back in Stardom. (There's plenty of room for her to reveal herself to be much more selfishly motivated than that but this is how the story reads to me so far and I'm going to stick with that until they tear that interpretation from my hands.)

So anyway, bringing it back around to Kairi that is the most recent development of her story. REstart did win the Artist titles, so Kairi got the win she was looking for, but she also finds herself much, much more closely tied to Cosmic Angels than she perhaps intended or expected, and that's after herself admitting an interest in and similarity to Tam when she first came back. She pulled a team around her out of probably the last two people she figured would be totally devoted to her, only to immediately find they're actually more devoted to someone else. They're happy to be Kairi's teammates, but they already have a leader. So the question now is if after so many years away, and so much time seeing herself as kind of above the day-to-day goings on of Stardom, if she can make herself treat her teammates as equals and learn how to play nice again as a member of a team.