#mo is my queen i love him

[3lji]

mo consciously put those pants on because he knows his touchy feely needy obsessed you are my entire universe boyfriend is gna take him out and not be able to keep his hands to himself.

mo put on those stripper pants with full knowledge that they’re going to be ripped off at some point in the night and that tian will keep reaching in between the gaps of fabric to grope at him.

and he chose to do this when tian has to concentrate on the road and actually be sensible for once. that’s actually the most effective and possibly cruelest tian torture method i could think of.

i love mo.

[deunmiu-dessie]

"george, i will stand with you between the heavens and the earth. i will tell you where you are. do. you. love. me?"

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC’s Lucien Wonderful Moments Date English Translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Lucien boops Snowball's nose, his tone hinting at jealousy.

"You've been praising this little guy a lot."

"Pfft, is Professor Lucien jealous?"

Translation under the cut!

[Notes from Lux: Here’s the CN video link if anyone wants to follow along with his Voice Acting.]

A car moves slowly on the vibrant countryside road, joyful laughter spilling out of its windows from time to time.

Lucien casually rests his hand on the steering wheel, looking ahead, and quickly comes up with a Chinese idiom.

Lucien: The victory is in the bag. (shèng quàn zài wò)

MC: Idiom with wò… crouching tigers and hidden dragons! (wò hǔ cáng lóng! - 卧虎藏龙 - fig. mean talented individuals hiding their talent)

Lucien: Just a reminder to this beautiful contestant, this phrase was already said during our first round of the idiom chain game.

MC: Then, how about… I control my destiny! (wǒ mìng yóu wǒ - 我命由我- a phrase, not an idiom)

Lucien: [chuckles] That doesn't seem to be an idiom. Is Miss Producer starting to cheat?

Lucien tilts his head and looks at me with a smile. I sheepishly stick out my tongue, wracking my brain as I search through my vocabulary.

The gentle spring breeze seeps through the gaps of the car window. Looking at those cunning eyes, I have a sudden inspiration and break into a sweet smile.

MC: I like you~ (wǒ xǐhuān nǐ~)

Lucien's demeanor briefly halts for half a beat as though he doesn't expect my answer. But then, the smile on his lips grows bigger.

The warm afternoon sunshine reflects brightly in his upturned eyes, making them look particularly beautiful.

Lucien: [chuckles, then sighs] This is the most sophisticated cheating I've ever seen, so I concede defeat.

I cheer joyfully, but before I can utter a word, an electronic broadcast interrupts me.

"Distance to the next highway toll booth is 1.5 kilometers ahead.”

I glance at the phone screen and see it shows another hour and a half to the camping village.

Lucien suggested this camping trip to an ecologically pristine village with beautiful scenery, though the only downside is that the journey was a bit long.

I turn to look at Lucien, who appears to be in a good mood, and can't resist asking the small question that's been lingering on my mind.

MC: Lucien, what made you suddenly want to take me to this camping village?

Lucien: It was recommended by a colleague from the research center. I heard the scenery there is nice and worth a visit.

Lucien: I originally wanted to find an opportunity to spend time with you, and just last weekend we went to see a play, which gave me a very legitimate reason to invite you on a date—

Lucien: To create “beautiful moments”.

He deliberately emphasizes the words "beautiful moments", causing me to momentary pause as a recent memory quickly floods into my mind.

—[Flashback Start]—

At the entrance of the theater last weekend.

Lucien and I walked out of the theater hand in hand. I was still sniffling, lost in the storyline of the performance we just watched, unwilling to let it go.

Just as I was about to wipe away the tears at the corner of my eye, a warm hand handed me a tissue and gently dabbed it beneath my eyes.

Lucien: [gently] If this little audience member keeps crying, I'll have to go find the production team for an explanation.

MC: I'm just really moved by the play...

MC: At first, when I saw the protagonist growing up under the shadow of his mother's depression, I thought he would fall into despair.

MC: But he was able to diligently record the beautiful moments in life and ultimately salvaged himself...

MC: I just tried to put myself in his shoes, and it's really hard to be as optimistic as the protagonist, so I couldn't stop my tears.

Under Lucien's gentle gaze, I rambled on and on, completing my "review" of the play. He patiently wiped the corners of my eyes and offered a comforting smile.

Lucien: I actually think the lady by my side also has a pair of eyes that can discover the beauty of life everywhere.

His sincere praise caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but feel a little buoyed by it. My heart, which had been saddened by the protagonist's struggles, also eased a bit.

MC: If I had a "Book of Beautiful Moments," the first thing I would record is how Professor Lucien always generously praises me~

Lucien chuckled softly, and the strands of hair hanging over his forehead swayed gently in front of his thick lashes.

Lucien: [chuckles] I'm just stating facts. She shares the beauty of the sky with me and finds satisfaction in good weather...

Lucien: —Isn't that kind of you very much like the protagonist?

MC: Then next time I discover something beautiful, I'll make sure to record it promptly.

MC: Let's see if I can fill several volumes of "Wonderful Moments" just like the protagonist!

—[Flashback Ends]—

I casually remarked and thought it was nothing but a joke, yet Lucien silently remembered it in his heart. I come to my senses and blink.

MC: So, the reason you suddenly decided to take me out to play is to create more wonderful moments in my life?

Lucien: I wonder if it's because I'm not "competent" enough that you don't have much to record, so I deliberately created this opportunity.

Lucien: Of course, it's also to show myself off a bit.

He adopts a tone of pretended grievance that stirs a feeling of itchiness in my heart, I suppress the curve of my lips, nodding in mock annoyance.

MC: Well, in light of your "timely remedy," I'll reluctantly start recording officially!

✂———————–

MC: ...Lucien takes me camping;

MC: Before we set off, Lucien made me a cup of hot chocolate.

MC: While playing the idiom chain game, Lucien deliberately went easy on me...

As I speak, I open the Notes app on my phone and mutter to myself, recording a dozen or so entries. But as I continue to write, I suddenly feel something is amiss.

MC: Wait a minute, why do all these "wonderful moments" have Professor Lucien's shadow? I'm starting to suspect that I have a “love-brain”*...

[T/N: "恋爱脑" (love brain) is a Chinese internet buzzword that refers to a mindset that puts love first above everything. It refers to individuals who are deeply in love and often become consumed by their emotions, making it difficult for them to think about anything else. This phenomenon is characterized by extreme devotion to their lover, often leading to uncontrollable emotional dependence and intense desires to be with the other person... If anything, from the way Lucien takes her casual remarks seriously and uses them as a reason to hang out with her, this word describes Lucien more LOL]

Lucien: [with a pretending-don’t-to-know-anything tone] Oh, really?

Lucien is amused by my muttering, and a hint of sly self-satisfaction shines in his long and narrow eyes.

Lucien: [chuckles] It seems the Great Producer has already fallen into my sweet trap.

Lucien: Because my goal is to dominate your today's "wonderful moments" list through this trip.

MC: Hmph, then I won't let you succeed. Right now, I'm going to come up with something completely unrelated to you.

As I speak, I catch a glimpse of a white shadow flashing in front of the car. But before I can react, Lucien has already hit the brakes.

[Sounds of the car suddenly braking]

Almost simultaneously, a strong arm instinctively protects me in front of my chest.

Lucien: ...Are you okay?

He removes his sunglasses and swiftly scans me with his gaze as if confirming whether I'm injured.

I stare blankly ahead. After a moment of daze, there's no movement in front of the car, and my heart leaps into my throat.

MC: I, I'm okay...

MC: Lu, Lucien... Did something just rush onto the road?

Lucien: I'll go down and take a look first. Stay in the car and don't move.

He smooths out my disheveled bangs and then gets out of the car after turning on the hazard lights.

Through the windshield, I see him quickly walk to the front of the car. His gaze instantly shifts downward, as if he's spotted something, and he crouches down.

Did we really hit something?

Just as I nervously stretch my neck and am about to get out of the car to take a look, Lucien suddenly stands up, cradling a bundle of white fluff in his arms.

MC: Eh?

I take a closer look and can't help but exclaim in delight—

It's an adorable little Pomeranian!

Under my expectant gaze, Lucien quickly gets back into the car with the little Pomeranian in his arms, then raises the pup's paw and waves it at me.

MC: Hello there, cutie! How did you end up on the road?

Lucien: This little fellow must have gotten lost. I didn't see anyone else outside the car.

I follow Lucien's gaze out the window. The road is very quiet, there's no sign of anyone around.

MC: Is it injured?

Lucien: It wasn't hit just now. When I got out to check, it was still some distance from the front of the car. It's probably just a little startled.

As if understanding, the Pomeranian snuggles its face into Lucien's palm coquettishly. Its dewy eyes shift between Lucien and me, softening my heart.

I tentatively reach out my hand towards its nose, intending to let it get accustomed to my scent before attempting to pet its little head.

However, as soon as I reach out my hand, the little fellow enthusiastically licks my fingers. In the next moment, it leaps over the center console and goes straight into my arms.

MC: Wow, what a good little doggy!

MC: And it looks very clean, not like a stray dog... Could it be lost?

Lucien leans in and turns the collar of the small Pomeranian, discovering a small round tag. On it, it reads "Snowball*" and a string of numbers.

[T/N: the pet name, "雪糕" (xuě gāo), actually means "ice cream bar/popsicle"  LOL. I take some liberty in translating the pup name because “雪” (xuě) word alone means “snow” (while “糕” (gao) means cake). Imagine that this fluffy white bundle looks like a snowball so I give the pup that name :D]

MC: "Snowball"? Is that its name?

Lucien: Mm, below should be the owner's phone number. Let me try contacting them. Maybe the owner hasn't gone far.

Lucien takes out his phone as he speaks and quickly gets connected. After briefly explaining the situation, a wave of gratitude comes from the other end of the line.

??: Thank you so much! I stopped at the service area for a break and took the pup out of the car for a walk. I forgot to bring it back into the car.

??: I've already turned back onto the highway. I'll be there in about forty minutes!

??: Will it delay you?

Lucien doesn't respond, he just looks up at me and gestures with his eyes, as if asking for my opinion. I quickly nod in agreement.

[asking for opinion from the family leader.jpg]

Lucien: No, it won't. Then let's meet at the nearest gas station to the toll booth on the highway.

After a brief conversation, he hangs up the phone and shakes his head at me helplessly.

Lucien: [smiles helplessly] Looks like our journey might be delayed for a bit.

MC: What a careless owner! How could they forget such an adorable little dog?

I affectionately rub Snowball's head. It seems to whimper aggrievedly, then it straightens up, leans against me, and licks my cheek.

The adorable and silly look melts my heart once again. I exaggerate by placing my hand over my heart, then I scoop Snowball into my arms and give it a tight cuddle.

MC: Lucien, it's just too cute.

Upon seeing this, Lucien boops Snowball's nose, his tone hinting at jealousy.

Lucien: You've been praising this little guy since earlier until now for so many times.

MC: Pfft, is Professor Lucien feeling jealous?

Lucien: After all, I was the one who wanted to make a good impression today, but I didn’t expect to be outshone by this "little attention-seeker".

MC: I think, it's actually quite timely that Snowball showed up.

I mischievously wink at him and raise Snowball triumphantly.

MC: Just when I couldn't think of any beautiful moments unrelated to you.

MC: The appearance of this cute little fellow right now just fills that gap perfectly~

Lucien: Is that so?

Lucien presses his lips together thoughtfully, his clean fingertips lightly tapping on the steering wheel. He puts his sunglasses back on and, as if on a whim, starts the car again.

Lucien: Buckle up your seatbelt, let's go.

MC: Huh? Where are we going? Aren't we supposed to wait for Snowball's owner?

Lucien: MC's words just aroused my desire to win.

Lucien: In order not to lose to this little fellow, I have to put in some extra effort during these forty minutes of waiting.

Lucien: Before that, let's go find some more unexpected wonderful moments.

✂———————–

Ten minutes later, Lucien drives us to a countryside field.

The golden sunlight blankets the emerald green grass, while wisps of light mist hover amidst the sea of green.

Excitedly, I hop out of the car while holding Snowball, and find myself unable to tear my eyes away from the beautiful scenery for a moment.

MC: It's so beautiful! Lucien, how did you know there's a place like this nearby?

Lucien: We passed by here when Miss Producer was fully focused on playing the idiom chain game just now.

Lucien: The meeting point I arranged with Snowball's owner is very close to here, so it was convenient to stop by on the way.

MC: [sweats] What? During that intense idiom chain game just now, you still managed to notice the scenery on the sides of the road?

Upon hearing this, Lucien seriously crosses his arms, one hand supporting his chin as if deep in thought.

Lucien: Hmm, after all, even in such a tense moment, Miss Producer didn't forget to use "sweet words" to bribe her opponent.

MC: Pfft-

I can't help but laugh, but Snowball in my arms suddenly wriggles restlessly, as if trying to break free from my embrace.

MC: Do you want to go down and play?

I carefully place Snowball on the ground. It sniffs around with its tiny nose and then happily starts running around us.

MC: [laughs cheerfully] Hahaha, Snowball, you're so fearless, don't you?

MC: Even after such a day full of twists and turns, you can still play so happily!

Lucien: A puppy's mind is very simple.

Lucien: Perhaps in its eyes, it simply unexpectedly took a risk to venture into an unfamiliar place and met with a beautiful and empathetic Jiejie (big sister) who understands it well.

Lucien: And now, this Jiejie has brought it to a playground where it can run freely, so why can't it be happy?

MC: Oh, come on, it's definitely the credit of this reasonable and understanding handsome Gege (big brother).

I jokingly gesture with my hand, but as I watch Snowball's carefree figure, I can't help but ponder Lucien's words with a thoughtful expression.

MC: That being said, it seems like any simple thing can easily make a puppy happy.

MC: Whether it's the company of its owner, a friendly pat from a stranger, a passing butterfly, or even just a small treat...

MC: I often see videos of dogs being scolded by their owners. One moment, they're scared out of their wits…

MC: Then, the next moment, as soon as their owners call their names with a smile, they instantly become happy again.

MC: So, is life filled with beautiful moments everywhere in the eyes of a puppy?

As we talk, Snowball runs around a nearby grassy area and then returns to Lucien's feet, panting. It looks like it's tired from playing and eagerly starts pawing at his pants.

Lucien cooperatively lifts it, and it comfortably stretches lazily in his arms, then leans against his arm and rests.

Lucien pats its head, his expression somewhat resigned.

Lucien: I originally wanted to create a "wonderful moment" for MC, but it seems like Snowball is the one enjoying it more.

MC: Indeed, we should learn from puppies and embrace the spirit of enjoying every moment. I can't let Snowball beat me~

As I say this, I take a deep breath, and the fresh air instantly fills my heart.

MC: So pleasant... If it weren't for the tight schedule and better scenery waiting for us, I'd want to camp right here.

Lucien looks at me upon hearing this, seeming to contemplate something. After a moment, he gently places Snowball into my arms and gives me a mysterious wink.

Lucien: I've received the classmate's wish, please wait a moment.

He walks around to the back of the car, opens the trunk, and folds down all the rear seats, creating a spacious area.

[Lucien’s car being an SUV is really useful in times like this huh-]

Then, he hangs the small decorative lanterns that were initially used for the tent on the roof of the car. Finally, he shakes out a small thin blanket and spreads it on top.

After finishing all this, he bends slightly and makes a gentlemanly invitation gesture.

Lucien: Please, have a seat.

MC: This is...

Lucien: Our time is indeed limited, not enough to set up a proper tent.

Lucien: So we'll have to use this "temporary camping spot" instead, I hope you two* don’t disdain it.

[T/N: He actually uses 小朋友 (literally means: child) as the term of endearment to refer both of them (so the more literal translation should be “I hope the two children don’t disdain it”). I change it for an obvious reason here, but I swear it’s not as bad as the english language makes it to be-]

I stand still for a moment as his intention dawns on me. Pink bubbles seem to bubble up in my chest, making my heart move up and down in the ripples it causes.

I compliantly put on airs, playing along with his gesture as I cradle Snowball and settle into the car.

MC: Can you see a look of "disdain" on our faces?

I raise Snowball, showing a coy and obedient look at Lucien. Snowball, oblivious to the situation, cooperatively wags its tail and barks cheerfully at Lucien twice.

Lucien chuckles softly, then takes off his sunglasses with one hand, his gaze shifting between Snowball and me.

The vast expanse of clouds above his head begins to slowly drift away, revealing the warm and radiant sunshine.

His deep gaze is imbued by the golden sky, revealing a hint of childlike innocence and simple contentment.

Lucien: Indeed, I can't see it, because I can only see two adorable faces.

His doting tone is unreserved, and I satisfactorily squint my eyes, my heart full of joy.

MC: This one-of-a-kind camping area, with Professor Lucien's intention behind it, is priceless and worth more than any amount of money.

MC: I cherish it so much; how could I possibly disdain it?

Snowball seems to understand my words. With a "woof", he jumps down and happily rolls around on the blanket.

Both Lucien and I are amused by its adorable appearance. A gentle breeze blows by, and my entire heart feels light as if it's strolling in the clouds.

Our gazes lock into each other, and this tranquil moment is so beautiful that I truly want to record it in some way.

But I don't take out my phone to make a note. Instead, I instinctively reach out and gently pull Lucien to sit beside me.

The warmth beside me makes me unconsciously lean closer. I nuzzle his shoulder clingily, my heart filled with softness.

MC: Professor Lucien, you've succeeded.

MC: Now my mind is filled with countless wonderful moments, and each of these moments is related to you-

MC: Me leaning on your shoulder, your scent filling my senses, and us sharing this unexpected encounter of scenery together...

MC: And even if these moments aren't intentionally recorded by me, it's okay.

MC: Because every little thing that has been happening with you has already integrated into my world since a long time ago.

The breath above my head becomes even more gentle and elongated. Lucien enfolds me in his arms, his warm breath almost as if it's seeping into the depths of my heart.

Lucien: I am honored to be part of all the “wonderful moments” of Miss MC.

Lucien: As the sole recipient of this “award”, I will remain humble and continue to work hard, bringing her even more happiness.

I smile in his arms, but suddenly, I think of something and pull myself away from him a bit.

MC: But it's not fair, I've listed so many 'wonderful moments' of my own. How come you haven't shared a single one with me?

Lucien seems taken aback by my sudden mention of this. He is struck silent for a moment, then a flicker of wounded expression crosses his face.

Lucien: Perhaps because I thought even if I didn't say anything, MC would know what I’m thinking—

Lucien: My "list of wonderful moments" is very simple, so simple that it has only one item.

Lucien: Now, do you still need me to tell you this one and only item?

He stares steadily into my eyes, with an irreplaceable radiance that ebbs and flows in the depths of his gaze.

I softly laugh, and my entire heart feels as transparent and bright as if it has been meticulously polished.

MC: No need.

I shook my head, the stray hair on my forehead bringing a slightly unbearable itch, gently brushing against my heart along with the gentle spring breeze.

I gently cup his cheek in the palm of my hand, and the world becomes unusually quiet, only the sound of two hearts beating can be heard.

MC: You don't need to say anything.

Because in those beautiful eyes, I only see myself.

————Fin———–

[Bonus Phone Call - Want it Now]

Lucien: Hello? Are you busy?

MC: So, I was about to take a lunch break—I was just thinking about you, and then your call came.

Lucien: It seems like there's always some kind of wonderful little tacit understanding between us.

Lucien: Then tell me about it.

MC: Haha, here's the thing. The company's pet club is planning a charity event.

MC: They plan to sell some handmade items and donate the proceeds to animal shelters. But I don't have any inspiration for what to make at the moment...

Lucien: Mm... I just received a delivery that might be helpful to you.

Lucien: The owner of Snowball sent us some things as a thank you. There are small felt keychains shaped like Snowball, as well as cartoon-style standees and cross-stitch fridge magnets.

Lucien: Looking at the note in the delivery box, it seems that the owner of Snowball designed them personally and also has the same ones at home.

Lucien: Perhaps we can also make some similar small items.

MC: Wow! They actually make these for their pet? The owner of Snowball is so thoughtful.

Lucien: You can tell that Snowball is truly cherished, so its owner makes these everyday little things, wanting its presence to fill every corner of their home.

MC: Hmm... Just like how my phone screensaver is you, and all the photos hanging around the home are of you?

Lucien: If what you're saying is that feeling of 'even when you're not around, I still want to see you first thing’...

Lucien: Then we're the same.

MC: I have another idea, I wonder if Professor Lucien shares the same idea as me.

Lucien: Hm?

MC: Even though my screensaver and chat background are pictures of you... I still want to see you right now.

Lucien: What a coincidence, I was thinking the same thing. So I've already brought your favorite milk tea and the Snowball keychain, and I'm on my way to see you.

Lucien: I checked the navigation, and the route from the research institute to your company is very smooth.

Lucien: In twenty minutes, both of our wishes will come true.

[astrxq]

Hey! I love The Dragon's Bride so much, I must have read it like 5 times already. You have beautiful writing and the fact that it's 17k is even better.

If your requests are still open, I wanted to throw an idea your way. Seeing how isolated the Blacks are getting, with the Greens conquering everything around them by land, Rhaenyra is desperate to forge another alliance that will bring her more ground stability. The perfect lord that can bring this to her only wants one thing in return: for his grandson to be the future king. So she is forced to break Jace's engagement to Baela so he can marry the lord's only daughter instead. That angst because Jace has feelings for Baela before the fluff of him discovering his feelings for his new wife like fjehdhw

It's totally okay if you don't vibe with the idea and don't want to write it btw!!

Conspiracy of Hearts

jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader

words: 23k

notes: thank you sooooo much anon <33, i love long fics (as you can probably tell) and i'm so so glad you enjoyed it. non-canon events, jace x baela at times, a made up lord. a bit of angst?? - fluffy. unnecessarily long fic, i apologize. i am NOT proud of this one 😭

The air in the great hall of Dragonstone was thick with tension, the stone walls seeming to close in as Queen Rhaenyra paced before the ancient Painted Table. The room was eerily quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the hearth fire and the soft rustle of her skirts as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Her fingers traced the carved coastline of Westeros, lingering over the territories that had fallen to the Greens’ hands. 

"Your Grace," a voice called from beyond the heavy oak doors. "Prince Jacaerys has arrived."

Rhaenyra straightened, composing herself with visible effort. "Send him in," she commanded, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her eyes.

The doors swung open, and Jacaerys Velaryon strode in. At nine-and-ten, he was already a man grown, with the bearing of one much older. His hands rested on his sword as he approached his mother with calm.

"Your Grace," he said, bowing his head respectfully. "You summoned me?"

Rhaenyra's gaze softened as it fell upon her eldest son. "Jace," she began, then faltered. For a moment, the mask of queenship slipped, revealing the anguish beneath. "I'm afraid I have dire news."

Jace's posture stiffened, bracing himself for whatever blow was to come.

"The Greens have taken Tumbleton," Rhaenyra continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "Our hold on the Reach is slipping. If we do not act soon, all will be lost."

Jace nodded gravely. "What would you have me do, Mother? I can fly to Tumbleton on Vermax, rally our forces–"

"No," Rhaenyra cut him off sharply. "I need you here, Jace. What I ask of you... it is not a battle to be fought with dragon fire, but with words and... promises."

A heavy silence fell over the room. Jacaerys took a deep breath, straightening his posture once again as he nodded once at his mother, silently promising to fulfill his duty.

"Lord Redfort has offered his support," Rhaenyra said at last. "His armies, his gold, his influence in the Vale. With his backing, we could turn the tide of this war."

Jace's eyes lit up with hope. "That's wonderful news, Mother. Why do you look so troubled?"

Rhaenyra's laugh was bitter and hollow. "Because nothing comes without a price, my son. And Lord Redfort's price is... steep."

Understanding dawned on Jace's face, followed swiftly by a flash of fear that he quickly masked. "What does he want?"

"He wants assurance that his family's loyalty will be rewarded," Rhaenyra said, each word seeming to pain her. "He demands that his grandson be promised the throne."

The implication hung heavy in the air. He felt a tightness in his chest, knowing what this meant for Jace, for Baela, for the future that had been carefully planned since their childhood.

"But... Baela..." Jace's voice was barely audible, a mixture of confusion and growing dread.

"I know," Rhaenyra said, and for a moment her composure cracked entirely. She moved to her son, taking his hands in hers. "My boy, my sweet boy. If there were any other way..."

Jace pulled away, his face a storm of emotions. "There must be another way. We can offer Lord Redfort something else, anything else."

"Don't you think I've tried?" Rhaenyra's voice rose in frustration. "I've offered titles, lands, positions at court. Nothing will sway him. It's this, or we lose everything we've fought for."

Jace turned away, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. The firelight cast long shadows across his face, highlighting the anguish etched there. "And what of Baela?" he asked at last, "What am I to tell her?"

Rhaenyra's shoulders sagged. "It is duty that will drive us to victory, my son."

"So I am to marry Lord Redfort's granddaughter," Jace said flatly. It wasn't a question.

"His daughter," Rhaenyra corrected gently. "She is but a year younger than you."

Jace's laugh was hollow. "As if that matters. I don't know her. I don't love her."

"Love?" Rhaenyra's voice hardened. "Love is a luxury we cannot afford in times of war, Jacaerys. You are a prince of the realm. Your duty is to your family, to your people. Sometimes that duty requires sacrifice."

Jace's jaw clenched. For a moment, Rhaenyra feared he would refuse outright. But then, slowly, the fight seemed to drain out of him. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

"When?" he asked simply.

"Lord Redfort and his daughter will arrive within a fortnight," Rhaenyra said, relief evident in her voice. "The betrothal will be announced immediately, and the wedding will take place as soon as it can be arranged after the war."

Jace nodded mutely, his eyes unfocused, staring at something only he could see. Without another word, he turned and strode from the room. The heavy doors slammed shut behind Jace as he stormed out of the great hall. His mind reeled, the weight of his mother's words pressing down upon him like a physical force. 

Without thinking, his feet carried him to the one place he knew he would find solace – or perhaps, he realized with a pang of guilt, the one place he shouldn't go.

Baela was in the dragon pit, tending to Moondancer. The young dragon chirped softly as she ran her hand over the scales, the sound echoing in the cavernous space. She looked up as Jace approached, her expression shifting from surprise to concern as she took in his troubled demeanor.

"Jace?" she called, setting down her hand. "What is wrong?"

For a moment, Jacaerys couldn't speak. He simply stood there, drinking in the sight of her – the way the torchlight glinted off her silver-gold hair, the gentle curve of her lips, the strength and grace in her movements. Everything he was about to lose.

"It's over," he finally managed, his voice hoarse. "Our betrothal. It's... it's been broken."

Baela's eyes widened, but to Jace's surprise, there was no shock in them. Only a deep, resigned sadness. "I see," she said softly. "The alliance with Lord Redfort?"

Jace nodded, a bitter laugh escaping him. "Of course you've heard. Nothing stays secret for long in this damned castle."

“Her Grace mentioned she was working with sending ravens for alliances, I only figured.” she said softly, patting her dragon’s head one last time before taking two steps towards him.

"Jace," Baela said, her voice gentle but firm. "You know as well as I do that this war demands sacrifices from all of us."

Her calm acceptance only fueled his frustration. He began to pace, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Sacrifices? Is that what we're calling it now? Throwing away the betrothal made in honor of my brother’s heirship, everything we've planned for years, all for the sake of some lord's support?"

"It's not just some lord," Baela reminded him. "It's the key to holding the Vale. Without it–"

"I know it!" Jace snapped, immediately regretting his harsh tone. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I know what is at stake, Baela. But it is unfair."

Baela stepped closer, her eyes full of understanding and a pain that mirrored his own. "Our duty is to our family, to the realm. Personal happiness... it is a luxury we can't afford right now."

Jacaerys felt the fight drain out of him, replaced by a bone-deep weariness. 

Baela reached out, taking his hand in hers. Her touch was warm, familiar, and Jace had to resist the urge to pull her close and never let go. Jacaerys looked at her, marveling at her strength, her composure in the face of this devastating news. 

"How can you be so calm about this?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

A sad smile played at the corners of Baela's lips. "Because one of us has to be," she said. "And because I've always known that our duty might ask this of us one day. It doesn't make it easier, but... I've had time to prepare myself for the possibility."

Jace felt a wave of shame wash over him. Here he was, raging against the unfairness of it all, while Baela faced their shared loss with grace and dignity. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I should be stronger. Like you."

Baela shook her head, squeezing his hand. "You are strong, Jace. But it's alright to be angry, to be hurt. Just... don't let it consume you. The realm needs you. Your mother needs you."

Jace felt a swell of admiration for her, mixed with a deep, aching sorrow for what they were losing. "I don't know if I can do this without you," he admitted.

Baela's expression softened. She reached up, cupping his cheek in her hand. "You can," she assured him. "You must. And I'll be here, Jace. Not as your wife, but as your cousin, your friend, your ally. That will never change."

For a long moment, they stood there, the weight of their shared past and the uncertain future hanging between them. Then, slowly, Jace nodded. "I must ready for my betrothed’s arrival, then.”

The new use of the word felt bitter against his tongue, eyes refusing to meet Baela’s as he uttered the words. 

Jacaerys took a deep breath, straightening his shoulders. He knew Baela was right. It was time to face his duty, no matter how much it hurt. With one last look at the woman he had thought would be his future, he turned and walked out of the dragon pit.

The days leading up to Lord Redfort's arrival passed in a blur of mounting tension and barely contained dread for Jacaerys. Each morning, he woke with a heavy heart, the weight of his impending duty pressing down on him like a tangible force. His chambers, usually a sanctuary, felt more like a prison, the stone walls closing in as he counted down the days to the fateful meeting.

He threw himself into his work, training with his sword until his muscles ached and his mind was numb. The clashing of steel, the grunts of exertion, and the rhythm of his footwork became his solace until his hands bled in show of his efforts. But no matter how fiercely he fought, the looming reality of his betrothal was inescapable. His sparring partners, sensing his turmoil, gave him space, their concerned glances only serving to deepen his isolation.

Meals were equally oppressive. The great hall buzzed with whispered conversations and furtive looks. Jacaerys ate in silence, his appetite waning with each passing day. His brothers tried to cheer him with tales of their latest exploits, but their words fell flat, unable to penetrate the fog of his thoughts. Even the usually boisterous presence of his dragon, Vermax, did little to lift his spirits. The bond they shared felt strained, as if the beast sensed his master's inner turmoil.

The evenings were the hardest. As the castle settled into a quiet lull, Jacaerys found himself wandering the halls, seeking solace in familiar places. He often ended up in the dragon pit, watching the majestic creatures in their pens. Baela was always there, her presence a bittersweet comfort. They spoke little, their shared silence a testament to the unspoken pain that lingered between them. Yet he felt as if their bond had not changed one bit.

Often, Baela approached him. Her face was always serene, but her eyes held a sadness that mirrored his own. “This... brooding will only make things harder." she’d tell him. And everytime Jacaerys would nod and mumble about understanding what his duty is. 

Her words, though comforting, did little to ease the ache in his heart. He’d squeeze her hand in silent gratitude, then turn away, retreating to the solitude of his chambers. Sleep was elusive, his dreams haunted by visions of a future that now seemed out of reach.

————

The fortnight passed agonizingly slowly, each day blending into the next. The castle was a hive of activity, preparations for Lord Redfort's arrival consuming everyone's attention. Jacaerys found himself caught in a whirlwind of fittings, rehearsals, and diplomatic meetings. His mother, ever the strategist, drilled into him the importance of this alliance, reminding him of the stakes with every passing moment.

Finally, the day arrived. The great hall was adorned with banners and finery, the air thick with the scent of fresh flowers and polished armor. Jacaerys stood by his mother's side, his expression a mask of stoic resolve. He fidgeted with his fingers, his chest heaving every time he would steal a glance at Baela, who would simply give him a small smile and a supporting nod. 

As the hours passed, anticipation hung in the air like a heavy fog. Jacaerys stood in the great hall, the weight of his impending duty pressing down upon him. His armor gleamed under the torchlight, a stark contrast to the turmoil within. The arrival of Lord Redfort and his retinue was imminent, each passing moment marked by the echoing footsteps in the corridor beyond.

Rhaenyra, resplendent in her queenly attire, stood beside her son with an air of regal composure that belied the storm of emotions beneath. Her eyes occasionally flicked towards Jacaerys, a silent reassurance amidst the grand preparations, but he didn’t meet her gaze. The hall buzzed with whispered conversations and the rustle of silk as courtiers and advisors moved about, ensuring everything was perfect for the crucial meeting.

At last, the doors swung open with a resounding thud, and Lord Redfort entered with measured steps as the maesters announced his name and title. His presence commanded attention – a high lord of the Vale, his face weathered by years of governance and warfare. You walked beside him, your features bore a striking resemblance to your father. Your eyes, however, betrayed a hint of nervousness and curiosity as you glanced around the hall before settling on his.

Jacaerys's heart skipped a beat as his eyes met yours for the first time. You were beautiful, with cascading hair and a determined set to your jaw that spoke of your noble upbringing. He knew your name but little else. And yet, he knew you were not Baela. 

Lord Redfort approached Queen Rhaenyra with a deep bow, which she acknowledged with a nod. 

Your gaze finally settled on the figures at the far end of the hall – Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, regal and formidable, and beside her, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. Your breath caught in your throat as you studied your betrothed. He was everything the stories had claimed – tall and handsome, with the striking features of his bloodline. But there was something else, a tension in his stance, a heaviness in his eyes that spoke of inner turmoil.

As your father bowed to the Queen, you sank into a deep curtsy, willing your voice to remain steady as you spoke. "Your Grace, Prince Jacaerys," you said, "It is an honor to be welcomed to Dragonstone."

Queen Rhaenyra's voice was warm but tinged with an underlying steel as she replied, "We are most pleased to welcome you and your father, Lady Y/n. Your presence here marks a new chapter in the alliance between our houses."

You rose from your curtsy, your eyes meeting Jacaerys's once more. His mother turned to look at him, urging him to speak. For a fleeting moment, you thought you saw a flicker of curiosity in his gaze, quickly masked by the cool formality of his response. 

"The honor is ours, we hope you find Dragonstone to your liking."

You couldn't help but notice the way Jacaerys's gaze occasionally drifted to a silver-haired young woman standing off to the side. The look they shared spoke volumes – a mixture of pain, resignation, and something deeper that made your heart sink. This, you realized, must be Lady Baela, the woman who had held your betrothed's heart until duty tore them apart.

The weight of the situation settled more heavily upon you. The challenge before you seemed insurmountable – to win the trust, perhaps even the affection, of a man whose heart clearly belonged to another.

You gazed up to your father, his serious expression settled on the Queen, arms stiffly linked and resting on his chest. “I assume my wishes were clear, Your Grace. I do not wish to impose but…”

“They were, Lord Redfort. And I assure you, your proposal is being given the utmost consideration.”

Jace’s eyes flickered to yours for a moment, his expression almost unreadable as he blinked at you, trying to gauge your own thoughts on the matter. You inhaled deeply as his eyes moved to Baela’s once again, you followed his train of sight.

Baela’s chest tightened once your eyes met, yours apologetic and Jacaerys’ hurt.

As the negotiations drew to a close, Queen Rhaenyra announced the betrothal formally. "Let it be known," she proclaimed, her voice carrying authority and finality, "that Prince Jacaerys Velaryon and Lady Y/n Redfort are betrothed in the sight of gods and men."

The words hung in the air, sealing the fate of all involved. Jacaerys glanced at you, his eyes conflicted yet resigned. You offered him a small, sympathetic smile, understanding the weight he carried upon his shoulders. He simply offered a tight-lipped smile before he followed after his mother.

Baela’s eyes traced his path down the hall, a sigh escaping her lips as she approached you. “I will walk you to your chambers, let you settle in properly.”

As you walked with Baela through the corridors of Dragonstone, her presence was a calming influence amidst the turmoil swirling within you. The castle walls seemed to echo with the weight of the recent betrothal announcement, yet Baela's gentle demeanor offered a brief respite from the tension.

"I hope your journey here was not too arduous, Lady Y/n," Baela said softly, her voice carrying a genuine concern.

You nodded, grateful for her kindness. "It was quite pleasant… I still have to get acquainted with the change of weather, though.”

She moved to link her arm with yours, the gesture surprised you, awaiting resentment and coldness from her after the broken betrothal between her and the prince. 

"Dragonstone can be quite humid to newcomers", Baela continued as she led you through the winding corridors of Dragonstone. Her touch was reassuring, her smile sincere.

"You'll find the climate more forgiving as you settle in," she assured you, her voice gentle. "It takes some time to get used to the island's rhythms, but there's a beauty to it once you do."

Her words offered a small measure of comfort amidst the uncertainty. You glanced at her, noting the resilience in her demeanor despite the obvious sadness in her eyes. "Thank you, Lady Baela," you said sincerely. "I appreciate your kindness."

Baela smiled softly. "Please, call me Baela.”

As you walked alongside Baela through the corridors of Dragonstone, her arm linked with yours, you couldn't help but marvel at her composure. Here was a woman who had just lost her betrothal to the man you were now set to marry, yet she showed you nothing but kindness and understanding.

"Baela," you said softly, testing the name on your lips. It felt strange to address her so familiarly, given the circumstances, but her gentle demeanor made it feel right somehow.

She glanced at you, her silver-gold hair catching the torchlight as she smiled warmly. "Yes?"

"I hope... I hope we can be allies," you said earnestly, “Despite the circumstances.”

Baela's expression softened, a mix of understanding and gentle sadness in her eyes. She squeezed your arm lightly, her touch reassuring.

"Of course we can," she said, her voice warm. "In fact, I hope we can be more than just allies. Friends, even. We're in this together, after all, as family."

You felt a wave of relief wash over you at her words. The tension that had been building in your chest since your arrival began to ease slightly.

"I'm glad," you admitted. "I was worried... well, given the situation..."

Baela shook her head, a rueful smile playing at her lips. "The circumstances are what they are. We can't change them, but we can choose how we respond to them. And I choose to see you as a friend, not a rival."

She stopped in front of two big wooden doors, thick and heavy at the sight. “Here we are,” she said, reaching for the handles before getting interrupted by one of the handmaids.

“Allow me, Lady Baela.” the girl mumbled, pushing open the doors before you. 

As the heavy wooden doors swung open, you were greeted by a spacious chamber bathed in warm candlelight. The room was adorned with rich tapestries depicting dragons in flight, their colors muted yet regal. A large four-poster bed dominated one wall, its dark wood intricately carved with scales and flames.

"These will be your chambers," Baela said, gesturing for you to enter. "I hope you'll find them comfortable."

You stepped inside, your eyes wide as you took in your new surroundings. A writing desk stood near a window overlooking the sea, and a cozy sitting area with plush chairs was arranged before a hearth. Everything spoke of luxury and careful craftsmanship.

"It's beautiful," you breathed, turning to Baela with genuine appreciation. 

Baela smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "The servants have already unpacked your belongings," she said, gesturing to a trunk at the foot of the bed. "But if you need anything else, don't hesitate to ask."

You nodded, your fingers trailing over the smooth surface of a nearby table. "Thank you, Baela."

She stepped closer, her expression serious. "I know this can't be easy for you," she said softly. "Coming to a new place, betrothed to a man you don't know, in the middle of a war. But if you ever need someone to converse with, simply ask for my presence and I shall come to you."

With a final nod, she departed, leaving you alone in your new chambers. As the door closed behind her, you let out a long, shaky breath, the events of the day finally catching up with you.

As you settled into your new chambers, the weight of the day's events began to sink in. The journey from the Vale, the formal introductions, the palpable tension in the great hall – it all swirled in your mind like a tempest. You sank onto the edge of the bed, your fingers tracing the intricate patterns carved into the wooden frame.

Your thoughts drifted to Prince Jacaerys. His handsome features were etched in your memory, but it was the sadness in his eyes that truly captured your attention. You had known, of course, about his previous betrothal to Lady Baela. It was common knowledge throughout the Seven Kingdoms. But seeing the pain etched on both their faces made the reality of the situation hit home.

A soft knock at the door startled you from your reverie. "Come in," you called, smoothing your skirts as you stood.

A young handmaid entered, carrying a tray laden with food and a steaming pot of tea. "Begging your pardon, m'lady," she said with a curtsy. "Queen Rhaenyra thought you might prefer to dine in your chambers this evening, to rest from your journey."

You nodded, grateful for the consideration. "Thank you," you said softly. "Please convey my gratitude to Her Grace."

As the handmaid set up the meal on a small table near the window, you found yourself drawn to the view outside. Dragonstone was unlike anything you had ever seen. The castle seemed to grow out of the very rock of the island, its towers reaching towards the sky like the necks of the dragons it was named for. In the fading light of day, you could see the churning sea beyond, its waves crashing against the rocky shore.

"Will there be anything else, my lady?" the handmaid asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

You turned, offering her a small smile. "No, thank you. That will be all."

As the door closed behind her, you were once again left alone with your thoughts. You picked at the food, your appetite diminished by the swirling emotions within you. The tea, at least, was a comfort, its warmth spreading through you as you sipped.

Your mind wandered to the task ahead of you. How were you supposed to forge a connection with a man whose heart clearly belonged to another? The political implications of this marriage weighed heavily on your shoulders. Your father's expectations, the need for this alliance to succeed – it all seemed impossibly daunting.

You’d heard all about the making of a babe, about lust and love, you’d read all about it. But the thought of bearing the babe of a man in love with another made your stomach turn, making your throat tighten. 

—————

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the sun's rays filtering through the windows of your chamber. You rose early, determined to start this new chapter of your life with purpose. As you dressed, choosing a gown in the deep red and white of your house, you steeled yourself for the day ahead.

A knock at your door announced the arrival of a servant, there to get you into your skirts and come to escort you to breakfast. As you made your way through the winding halls of Dragonstone, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nervousness in your stomach. 

The great hall was already bustling with activity when you arrived. Queen Rhaenyra sat at the high table, deep in conversation with her advisors. Your eyes scanned the room, finally landing on Prince Jacaerys, seated at a smaller table with his siblings.

Taking a deep breath, you approached. "Good morning, Your Grace," you said, dipping into a curtsy. "I hope I'm not intruding."

Jacaerys looked up, surprise flickering across his features before he schooled his expression into one of polite neutrality. "My lady," he said, rising to his feet. "Please, join us."

As you took the seat he offered, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from his younger brothers. Joffrey, the middle child, offered you a friendly smile, while the younger kids regarded you with wide-eyed wonder.

"Did you sleep well?" Jacaerys asked, his tone formal but not unkind.

You nodded, offering a small smile. "I did, thank you. The chambers are lovely."

An awkward silence fell over the table, broken only by the clatter of cutlery and the low hum of conversation from the surrounding tables. You busied yourself with your breakfast, stealing glances at Jacaerys when you thought he wasn't looking.

He seemed distracted, his gaze often drifting to the far side of the hall where Lady Baela’s seat was empty, next to her siste’s Rhaena. Each time, a flicker of pain would cross his face before he caught himself and returned his attention to his meal.

"Is it true you can ride a horse as well as any knight?" little Joffrey suddenly piped up, his eyes bright with curiosity as he stared up at you, his small hand reaching for your skirts before Jace pulled it away.

You blinked, surprised by the question. "I... yes, I suppose I can," you replied, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. "My father insisted I learn from a young age."

"That's amazing!" he exclaimed, leaning forward eagerly. "Can you teach me? Jace is always too busy."

Jacaerys shifted uncomfortably, but you saw an opportunity to bridge the awkward gap between you.

"I'd be happy to," you said, your smile widening. "If it's alright with your brother, of course."

For the first time that morning, Jacaerys met your gaze directly. Something akin to gratitude flickered in his eyes. "That would be... kind of you," he said softly.

Silence filled the air once again, awkward glances shared between you and Jacaerys as he quietly picked at his plate. 

As the uncomfortable silence stretched, the door to the great hall creaked open, drawing everyone's attention. Lady Baela entered, her graceful presence immediately commanding the room. 

Jacaerys's eyes lit up momentarily as he watched her approach, but the flicker of hope was quickly replaced by the familiar sadness. Baela's eyes scanned the room, locking onto his for a heartbeat before shifting to you. A small, serene smile graced her lips as she made her way to your table.

"Good morrow," she greeted, her voice as warm as the morning sun streaming through the windows. 

Baela took a seat beside you, her presence a soothing balm to the tension in the air. She nodded to Jacaerys, lingering their locked gaze in silence, before turning her attention to you.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked, her tone genuinely concerned.

"I did, thank you," you replied, a genuine smile tugging at your lips. "The chambers are lovely."

Baela's smile widened. "I'm glad to hear that. Have you had time to explore the place?"

You straightened your back, glancing at your betrothed and then back to her. You shook your head. "No, I haven't had the chance yet," you admitted, trying to keep your voice light.

Baela's eyes sparkled with genuine enthusiasm. "Then it's settled. I'll give you a tour after breakfast. There are some wonderful places I think you'll enjoy."

Jacaerys felt a surge of confusion as he watched Baela's calm and cheerful demeanor. Her willingness to extend kindness and camaraderie to you, the woman set to marry the man she once loved, was baffling. He had expected resentment, anger, or at least some form of cold distance. Instead, Baela seemed genuinely at ease, her smile unwavering.

His thoughts churned as he tried to make sense of her behavior. Was she truly alright with the broken betrothal, or was this a mask she wore to hide her pain? Jacaerys couldn't tell. He stole a glance at you, noting the slight relaxation in your posture as you engaged with Baela. The two of you seemed to connect in a way he hadn't anticipated. 

Baela's strength had always been a source of comfort, but now it felt like a reminder of his own perceived weakness. His own frustration clouding his judgment as hers only brought her closer to you.

Breakfast continued, the conversations light and courteous. You and Baela exchanged pleasantries about Dragonstone's architecture, its history, and its dragons. Joffrey's enthusiasm brightened the table as he peppered you with questions about the Vale and your life there. Jacaerys found himself mostly silent, observing the dynamic between you and Baela as he ate small bites of his food, dreading his leave. 

When the meal concluded, Baela rose from her seat, her eyes meeting Jace’s. "I hope you'll join us on the tour, Jace," she said softly, her voice holding a note of encouragement.

Jacaerys hesitated, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He glanced at you, noting the hopeful glimmer in your eyes, then back at Baela, who was giving him a look, telling him to go. Taking a deep breath, he cleared his throat. 

“If I am not busy, yes.”

Again, with linked arms, Baela urged her twin to join you both as she talked your ear off about the halls. Rhaena quickly following suit and giving you a polite smile. 

As Baela led you away for the tour, Jacaerys remained behind, his expression conflicted. He watched as you disappeared around a corner, arm-in-arm with Baela and Rhaena. A moment passed before he made his decision, quietly following at a distance.

Throughout the tour, Jacaerys kept to the shadows, observing the easy rapport developing between you and Baela. His brow furrowed as he watched Baela's animated gestures, her warm smiles, and your growing comfort in her presence. The lack of tension or resentment between you both stirred a complicated mix of emotions within him. He watched you laugh, hand holding onto Rhaena as she pointed at the dragon pit.

As the day wore on and you retired to your chambers, Jacaerys found himself restless, pacing the halls of Dragonstone. The sun had long since set when he finally sought out Baela, his emotions simmering beneath the surface.

You were about to drift off to sleep when muffled voices from the corridor caught your attention. Curiosity piqued, you crept to the door, quietly prying it open, the voices getting clearer.

"How can you be so... so accepting about all of this?" Jacaerys' voice, usually so controlled, trembled with barely contained frustration.

"What would you have me do, Jace?" Baela's response was measured, but there was an edge to her tone. "Treat her unkindly? Refuse to acknowledge her presence?"

"No, of course not, but..." Jacaerys faltered. "You act as if nothing has changed. As if our betrothal wasn't just shattered for the sake of politics less than two days ago."

There was a pause, and when Baela spoke again, her voice was softer. "Everything has changed, Jace. But that doesn't mean we must let bitterness consume us. She is not to blame for this situation."

"I know that," Jacaerys snapped, then sighed heavily, you could hear his frustration. "I know. But seeing you with her, so friendly, so at ease... it's like you don't even care that we're no longer..."

"Don't," Baela's voice was sharp now. "Don't you dare suggest that I don't care. We both knew our duty might require sacrifices. I'm choosing to face this with grace, for all our sakes."

"And I'm just supposed to accept that? To watch you befriend the woman I'm being forced to marry, while my heart..." Jacaerys's voice broke off.

"Your heart will heal, Jace," Baela said gently. "As will mine. But we must give it time, and we must not punish Lady Y/n for circumstances beyond her control."

The silence that followed was heavy. You held your breath, straining to hear more.

"I don't know if I can do that, Baela," Jacaerys finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You can," Baela assured him. "And who knows? Perhaps in time, you might find that Lady Y/n..."

"Don't," Jacaerys cut her off. "Please, just... don't. I could never."

You heard footsteps retreating, growing fainter until they disappeared entirely. Slowly, you backed away from the door, your mind reeling from what you'd overheard.

As you stood there, hidden in the shadows of the corridor, your heart sank with each word that passed between Jacaerys and Baela. Guilt gnawed at you, a bitter realization settling in your chest. You hadn’t intended to eavesdrop, but now you couldn’t ignore the raw emotions laid bare before you.

Jacaerys’s voice, tinged with frustration and hurt, echoed in your mind. His words stung deeply, cutting through the uncertainty that had clouded your thoughts since arriving at Dragonstone.

Any chance of him growing comfortable, even forming an attachment to you, vanished before your eyes at his words. 

Locking the door, you sat on your bed, knees to your chest as you felt your breathing break its steady pace. The rawness of Jacaerys's emotions and his adamant refusal to even consider the possibility of developing feelings for you left a hollow ache in your chest.

Rising from your bed, you moved to the window, gazing out at the rocky shores of Dragonstone. The sea churned restlessly, mirroring the turmoil in your heart. You had known this marriage was born of political necessity, but hearing Jacaerys's words had driven home the reality of your situation in a way nothing else could have.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. "Come in," you called, turning from the window.

Baela entered, her silver-gold hair catching the soft candle light. Her lips faltered as she took in your drawn expression. "I did not know you were awake."

For a moment, you considered confessing what you'd overheard, but something held you back. Instead, you forced a small smile. "Just a restless night," you said. "I'm still adjusting to the sound of the waves, I suppose."

Baela's eyes searched your face, and you got the sense she didn't quite believe you. But she didn't press the issue. “I… I cannot find sleep either, I figured I’d come to see how you’re holding up with your stay.”

As you looked closer at Baela in the dim candlelight, you noticed the telltale signs of recent tears. Her eyes were slightly puffy and rimmed with red, and there was a lingering sadness in her expression that she couldn't quite hide. Her usually perfect composure seemed fragile, as if it might crack at any moment. 

Baela's shoulders were slumped ever so slightly, betraying a weariness that went beyond mere physical exhaustion. Her fingers fidgeted with the sleeve of her nightgown, a nervous gesture that spoke volumes about her emotional state. Despite her attempt at a smile, there was a vulnerability in her gaze that tugged at your heart.

In that moment, you realized that Baela wasn't just here to check on you – she was seeking comfort and companionship herself. The strong, graceful woman who had been your guide and support since your arrival now looked like she desperately needed a friend.

You took two steps towards her, offering your hand, which she hesitantly took, and guiding her to sit on the edge of your bed. 

For a while, neither of you spoke. You sensed Baela struggling to maintain her composure, her facade of strength cracking ever so slightly. Her shoulders trembled imperceptibly, a telltale sign of the storm raging within.

Without a word, you moved closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Baela stiffened at first, surprised by your gesture, but then she leaned into your touch, a silent admission of her vulnerability.

“I’m sorry,” you spoke, “I do not wish for your burden.”

"It's not your burden to bear," Baela whispered hoarsely, her voice thick with emotion. "None of this is your fault. Jace is just… still adjusting to the idea."

Baela remained silent for a long moment, her gaze distant. Her fingers traced the intricate embroidery on her sleeve, a nervous habit betraying her inner turmoil.

"I've known Jace my whole life," Baela began softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "We grew up together, shared dreams of the future, of ruling Dragonstone side by side. Our betrothal... it felt like destiny."

You tightened your embrace, offering silent support as Baela's voice wavered and your guilt only grew in your chest. She leaned into you, seeking solace in your presence.

"I care for him, Y/n," Baela admitted, her voice trembling with unspoken emotion. "And seeing him in pain... knowing that our future together is no longer possible... I can't bear it."

Tears welled up in Baela's eyes once more, and this time she didn't hold them back. They flowed freely, silent rivulets down her cheeks, marking the depth of her sorrow.

"I would rather see him find happiness with you," Baela confessed in a choked whisper, her words heavy with resignation. "Than watch him cling to a love that can never be. He deserves that much, after everything. He deserves a love that is possible, that is as just and fair as it is real."

Her admission hung in the air between you, a bittersweet revelation tinged with heartache. You squeezed her hand gently, your own heart heavy with empathy for her plight. You watched as she curled up to the sheets of your bed, breathing steadying as she let sleep take over her. 

You tried to push away the guilt that threatened to overwhelm you. After all, you hadn’t asked for this betrothal any more than Jacaerys or Baela had asked for their separation. Yet, here you were, caught in the middle of their lingering emotions and unspoken regrets.

—————

The following weeks unfolded in a haze of polite interactions and strained attempts at forging connections. You accompanied Jacaerys to meetings and gatherings, each moment underscored by the awkward tension that hung between you. His gaze, when it met yours, was distant and guarded, a far cry from the warmth you had hoped to find.

Meanwhile, Baela remained a steady presence in your life. She showed you the hidden corners of Dragonstone, regaled you with stories of its history, and offered quiet words of encouragement when doubt threatened to consume you. Her kindness was a lifeline amidst the uncertainty that gripped your heart.

Still, you couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider in your own betrothal. Every smile from Jacaerys felt forced, every conversation a careful dance around the unspoken truths that loomed between you. You wondered if he saw you as a reminder of what could have been, or if he simply saw you at all.

Jace and Baela kept their distance, exchanging lingering stares, finding comfort in each other but maintaining their bond as a friendship, an impossible love threatened by duty.

You felt like a young girl with a crush on a soldier, as Rhaena and Baela attempted to bring Jacaerys closer to you. Yet, it ate at you that Baela tried to conceal her own feelings to prioritize yours and Jace's.

You found solace in unexpected places. Young Joffrey had taken to following you around the castle, bombarding you with questions about the Vale and begging for horse-riding lessons. His innocent enthusiasm was a balm to your troubled heart, and you found yourself looking forward to the time you spent with him.

One crisp morning, as you were brushing down your horse in the stables, Joffrey came bounding in, his face flushed with excitement.

"Please!" he called out, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste as he ran little steps towards you. He joined his hands in a plea. "Can we go riding today? Please?"

You couldn't help but smile at his eagerness. 

Jace watched from the courtyard. His expression was unreadable, but for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his eyes – curiosity, perhaps, or a hint of softness.

The moment passed quickly as he turned away, leaving you to wonder if you had imagined it. Pushing the thought aside, you focused on guiding Joffrey through his riding lesson. With a hand on his lower back, holding his upwards, and another holding onto the leather leash, you guided the excited child through the gardens.

As you guided Joffrey's pony through the gardens, the younger prince's laughter filled the air. 

"Look!" Joffrey exclaimed, pointing excitedly at a butterfly fluttering past. "Can we chase it?"

You chuckled, gently reining in his excitement. "Remember, my prince, we must always be gentle with creatures smaller than us. Let's watch it instead, shall we?"

As you stood there, Joffrey perched atop his pony and you by his side, observing the delicate dance of the butterfly, you felt a presence behind you. Turning slightly, you saw Jacaerys approaching, his steps hesitant but purposeful.

"Having fun, Joff?" he asked, ruffling his younger brother's hair affectionately.

Joffrey beamed at his older brother, reaching to hold his hand, almost tumbling off of the animal’s loin. "She is teaching me to ride, Jace! She says I'll be as good as you one day!"

A small smile tugged at Jacaerys's lips. "Is that so?" He turned his gaze to you, something unreadable in his eyes. "You're good with him."

You felt a warmth creep into your cheeks at his words. "He makes it easy," you replied softly. "He's a quick learner."

Joffrey huffed as he tugged on the leather leash in your hands, “When will I be allowed to ride on my own?”

Jace let out a soft laugh, the sound unexpected and somehow comforting. "In time, Joff. You need to master the basics first."

The younger boy pouted but didn't argue, his attention quickly drawn back to the butterfly that had settled on a nearby flower.

You looked at Jacaerys, noticing the shadows under his eyes, the lines of stress etched into his handsome features. The brief moments of kindness he had shown you lately had been few and far between, but they gave you a glimmer of hope.

"Would you like to join us?" you asked tentatively, unsure of how he would respond.

Jacaerys hesitated, glancing between you and Joffrey. Finally, he nodded, a small, reluctant smile on his lips. "I could use a break from all the meetings."

As the three of you walked through the gardens, the tension between you and Jacaerys seemed to ease, replaced by a tentative camaraderie. Joffrey chattered on about the lessons you had been giving him, his enthusiasm infectious.

You caught Jacaerys stealing glances at you, his expression softer than you had ever seen it. It was as if the presence of his younger brother had created a bridge between you, allowing him to lower his guard just a little.

Sadly, he’d stayed quiet the whole time, only nodding along and responding to his brother’s enthusiasm. 

For a moment, the three of you stood there in comfortable silence, watching as Joffrey tentatively guided his pony a few steps forward. You fixed your skirts, arms dropping to your side as the small prince struggled to get down from the pony, refusing to get any help. Then, to your surprise, Jacaerys spoke again.

"I... I was wondering if you might like to join me for a ride later," he said, his voice low enough that Joffrey couldn't hear. "There's a cove on the far side of the island that's quite beautiful at night."

Your heart skipped a beat at his invitation. "I'd like that," you replied, offering him a small smile.

As Jacaerys nodded and turned to leave, you caught sight of Baela watching from a nearby balcony. Her expression turned into a supportive smile when she noticed your gaze. The guilt that had become your constant companion surged once more.

Later that evening, as you prepared for your ride with Jacaerys, Baela appeared at your chamber door.

"Here," she said, holding out a cloak with a smile. "The winds can be fierce near the cove. You'll need this."

As you accepted the cloak, your fingers brushed hers. "Baela," you began, your voice thick with emotion. "I–"

She shook her head, cutting you off. "Don't," she said softly. “Jace is trying, give him a chance."

“Baela,” you began again, your voice softer this time, “I just don’t want to hurt you more than I already have. I’m trying to understand where we all fit into this... tangled mess.”

She shook her head, “I feel no pain if you and Jace are well.”

"But I don't want you to feel like you're losing something," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Baela's expression softened, a small, sad smile gracing her lips. "Jace and I... we were a dream of what could have been. But dreams change. Life moves on, and so must we. I can't hold onto something that was never meant to be."

You nodded, feeling a mixture of gratitude and sorrow. "Thank you," you whispered, unable to find the words to express the depth of your appreciation.

Baela squeezed your hand one last time before letting go. "Go," she urged. "Don't keep him waiting."

With a heavy heart, you draped the cloak around your shoulders and made your way to the stables where Jacaerys was waiting. The night air was cool and crisp, just like Baela had said, the stars twinkling like distant beacons of hope in the inky sky. 

Jacaerys stood by his horse, his figure silhouetted against the faint light of the torches. His expression was thoughtful, almost pensive, as he glanced up at the sky. When he noticed your approach, his eyes softened slightly, almost as if he had been trying to get his mind ready.

The moonlight cast a silver sheen on his dark hair, lending him an almost ethereal quality. 

“I forgot to tell you to get a cloak,” he said, quickly noticing the cloth that covered your body, “you must have read my mind."

"Baela thought of it," you replied, mounting your horse. Jacaerys tried to hide the frown that appeared on his face for a second. The saddle creaked beneath you, and you patted the horse's neck, feeling its warmth through the leather gloves.

Why would Baela want to push him into another woman’s arms? The question echoed in his mind, gnawing at his thoughts like a persistent itch. 

Jacaerys’s thoughts churned beneath his calm exterior. Why was Baela so insistent on pushing him toward you? He glanced sideways at you, taking in the soft glow of the moonlight on your face, the way you seemed lost in your own thoughts. There was a delicate vulnerability about you, a quiet strength that he couldn’t quite grasp.

You rode in silence for a while, the rhythmic clopping of hooves and the distant roar of the sea the only sounds breaking the night. 

His gaze flickered over to you again. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he noticed your serene demeanor, your focus entirely on the path ahead. He couldn’t deny that there was something about you that stirred a part of him he thought was long dormant – a hope for something genuine amidst the political maneuvering and familial obligations.

Breaking the silence, Jacaerys spoke, his voice carrying a note of curiosity he couldn’t completely mask. “You seem at ease. Is the ride helping you clear your mind?”

You glanced over at him, the soft glow from your lantern casting a gentle light on your face. “It is,” you said, offering a small, genuine smile. “I don’t have siblings, like you do. I didn’t have much to be entertained by, growing up. I found solace in rides like this”

Jacaerys nodded, his curiosity piqued. "What else did you do to pass the time?" he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You chuckled, a hint of mischief in your eyes. "I used to sneak out to watch the soldiers train in the courtyard."

Jacaerys raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Is that so?"

You nodded, warming to the subject. "Oh yes. When I was too bored to read I would hide behind the barrels near the training yard and watch the men practice their swordplay."

"Did you ever try it yourself?" Jacaerys asked, genuine interest in his voice.

You laughed softly. "I did, actually. I'd sneak a wooden practice sword from the armory and try to mimic their movements in secret. I must have looked ridiculous, flailing about in my chambers."

Jacaerys let out a low chuckle, the sound warming you more than the cloak around your shoulders. "I can picture it," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Did you ever get caught?"

"Once," you admitted, a blush creeping into your cheeks. "My father walked in just as I was attempting a particularly dramatic lunge. I nearly toppled into my dressing table."

Jacaerys laughed outright at that, the sound echoing in the night air. It was the first time you'd heard him laugh so freely, and the sound made your heart skip a beat.

"What did your father say?" he asked, still smiling.

You sighed dramatically, "He was scandalized, of course. Grounded me from sneaking past the courtyard for life.”

As your horses ambled along the moonlit path, Jacaerys's laughter subsided into a warm smile. You loved the sound, you realized, not having heard it often because of you, moreso because of his family.

 "Well, if you're still interested in watching swordplay, you're welcome to observe our training sessions here on Dragonstone. No need for sneaking or hiding behind barrels."

You felt a flutter of excitement at his offer. "Really? You wouldn't mind?"

Jacaerys shook his head, his expression softening. "Not at all. In fact, I think the men here might appreciate having an audience. It tends to make them show off a bit more."

You chuckled, feeling more at ease than you had in weeks. "I'd like that very much. Thank you, Jacaerys."

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that hadn't been there before. 

As the path curved towards the cove, the moonlight bathed the landscape in a silvery glow. The sea's rhythmic waves against the rocky shore provided a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. Jacaerys's earlier curiosity about Baela's motives still lingered in his mind, but for now, he chose to focus on the present moment. There would be time to unravel those thoughts later.

“Um…” you started, unsure whether your question was intrusive or not, Jace’s head turned to look at you again. 

“Yes?”

“I was wondering… about the dragons,” 

Jacaerys's eyes lit up with interest at the mention of dragons. "What would you like to know?" he asked.

“I’ve never seen one up-close.” you felt rather embarrassed as your cheeks flushed, quickly turning your head to look ahead of you as Jacaerys bit back a smile. “Would you like to?”

Your heart quickened at his question, and you met his gaze, your excitement barely contained. "I would love to," you replied, unable to hide the enthusiasm in your voice.

Jacaerys smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "Then it's settled. We'll visit the dragon pit tomorrow. I’ll introduce you to Vermax."

The path towards the cove became narrower, the sea breeze carrying a salty tang that invigorated your senses. Jacaerys's expression held a mixture of amusement and anticipation, the weight of the earlier conversation lifting slightly.

As the cove came into view, bathed in the soft glow of the moon, Jacaerys turned to you, his eyes reflecting the silvery light. "Vermax hatched when I was just a baby," he began, his voice taking on a more personal tone. “We grew together. I am sure he will be kind to you.”

The connection he described stirred something within you. You felt a growing sense of anticipation for the meeting with Vermax, your excitement mingling with a hint of nervousness at the thought of standing near a dragon.

As you reached the edge of the cove, the waves crashed gently against the shore, their rhythmic sound creating a soothing backdrop. You dismounted your horses, your boots sinking slightly into the soft sand. The moonlight cast a silvery sheen over everything, making the scene almost magical.

Even after having spent long in Dragonstone, the cold breeze still hadn’t made peace with you, you held the cloak tighter to your body in hopes of warmth. The chill seemed to seep through the layers, but the beauty of the cove and the company beside you provided a warmth of their own.

Jacaerys led you to a rocky outcrop, a perfect vantage point from which to watch the waves crash and froth against the shoreline. His hand was holding the sleeve of your cloak as he walked you, not ready to hold your hand just yet, Baela still somehow present in his thoughts. 

Jace’s gaze was fixed on the horizon, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. He seemed lost in thought, the earlier conversation about Vermax fading into the backdrop as he wrestled with his own internal conflicts. You could sense the weight of Baela's memory lingering in his mind, an echo of feelings that he was trying to reconcile with the present.

He turned to you, his expression softening. “It’s a beautiful spot, isn’t it? I’ve always found it calming here, away from everything else.”

You hummed, hands going back to pressing the cloak against your shivering body, regretting not having worn more skirts for the night. “It’s beautiful.”

A small smile touched Jacaerys’s lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He seemed to be searching for the right words, his usual guarded demeanor giving way to a more introspective side.

“Are you cold?”

“A little, yes. I should’ve worn a thicker dress.”

Jacaerys’s eyes flickered with concern as he took in your shivering form, the chill of the night evidently seeping through your cloak. The warmth of his earlier smile faded into a more serious expression.

“Come with me.” he said, his voice soft with empathy. 

He guided you away from the edge of the cove, leading you towards a more sheltered spot further inland. The sea breeze, though still present, seemed to lose its bite as you moved away from the open shore.

As you walked, Jacaerys began to explain. “The rocks here are a bit more protected from the wind, and they get the heat from the sun during the day, it retains some warmth even at night.”

You followed him, hopeful by the promise of warmth. The path became less rugged and more stable, leading to a small, secluded nook nestled between two large boulders. 

Jacaerys gestured towards the alcove with a reassuring nod. “This spot should be much warmer. It’s better than standing out in the open.”

You stepped into the alcove, trailing behind him, feeling a noticeable difference in temperature. The wind’s bite was indeed diminished, and the moss underfoot felt soothing against your tired feet. The warmth was a welcome relief, and you sighed contentedly as you settled into the corner of the nook.

Jacaerys took a seat beside you, maintaining a respectful distance but close enough to share the modest warmth of the alcove. His gaze softened as he looked at you, his earlier concerns about the chill replaced by a more focused attentiveness.

"Do you miss your home?" Jacaerys asked, breaking the silence, his voice gentle.

You considered his question, your gaze fixed on the horizon. "Sometimes," you admitted. "But I've got good company here."

Jacaerys studied you for a moment, his gaze contemplative. The alcove, with its comforting warmth and shielded position, seemed to offer a haven for both of you – a temporary retreat from the complexities of the world outside.

A faint smile tugged at Jacaerys’s lips as he broke the silence. “Joffrey’s obsessed with you, you know?”

You looked at him, curiosity piqued with a laugh. “Is he?”

Jacaerys nodded, his fingers absently brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “He always talks about you.”

“He’s rather taken with you, I would think.”

You laughed, the sound bright and genuine in the quiet of the alcove. “He’s a very kind child.”

Jacaerys nodded, his expression warm and approving. “He’s always full of stories about you – how kind you are, how brave you seem. It’s quite endearing, really.”

A smile tugged at your lips, “That’s sweet of him.”

There was a comfortable silence between you, the warmth of the alcove cocooning you both in its gentle embrace. The night outside seemed distant, its chill muted by the sanctuary you’d found together.

Jacaerys broke the silence once more, bringing his knees to his chest and staring ahead at the sea. “Baela’s been kind to you,” you couldn’t tell if it was a question or a statement so you simply nodded.

“Very, she’s been really welcoming to me,” you replied, trying to match the sincerity of his tone. “I appreciate her kindness more than I can express.”

Jacaerys sighed softly, the sound barely audible above the distant crash of waves.

The two of you sat in silence for a few moments, the warmth of the alcove creating a peaceful setting around you. 

Jacaerys’s mention of Baela lingered between you like a delicate echo, and you could see the concern in his eyes. His gaze remained fixed on the distant horizon, but it was clear he was wrestling with his own emotions.

“You’ve been a good friend to her since you arrived,” Jacaerys said again, his voice soft but edged with a tinge of regret. “I appreciate that more than you know.”

The sincerity of his words struck a chord, and though you had tried to offer comfort, the mention of Baela’s hurt still gnawed at you. You understood that Jacaerys’s feelings were complex, his history with Baela casting a long shadow over the present.

You searched for something comforting to say, but the silence that followed was soothing in its own way. 

Jacaerys shifted slightly, his eyes softening as he glanced at you. “Sometimes it’s hard to balance past connections with the present. I suppose I’ve been struggling with that lately. For that, I apologize.”

“It’s never easy to reconcile what was with what is. I imagine it must be even harder when you care about the people involved.”

He nodded, a wistful smile touching his lips. “You are to be my wife.”

Jace’s admission hung in the air like a fragile, unspoken promise. His gaze held yours, his eyes reflecting a mix of vulnerability and resolve that seemed to shimmer in the soft moonlight. The mention of your forthcoming union brought a new layer of gravity to the conversation, the implications settling heavily between you.

“I know,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Despite the complexities of… my past betrothal, my commitment to you is sincere. I promise to give you a happy marriage. I want to give you a future where you feel valued, cherished, and at peace. As any wife should.”

His words carried a gravity that made your heart flutter. The sincerity in his eyes, combined with the warmth of the alcove, created a moment of shared hope and promise.

Neither of you spoke until the breeze caught up to the warmer spot, indicating the deep hours of the night. “We shall get back. I wouldn’t want you to catch a chill.” he mumbled.

You nodded, the thought of returning to the comfort of the castle appealing after the night’s lingering cold. The promise of a future together still resonated within you, a beacon of warmth amidst the crisp night air.

Jacaerys rose smoothly, offering you a hand as you stood. The gesture was simple but meaningful, a small act of support that spoke volumes to you. His hand was warm against yours, a comforting presence as you prepared to return to the castle. 

Together, you made your way out of the alcove, the cool night air greeting you with a gentle caress as you retraced your steps back to the horses.

The path to the castle was bathed in the soft light of dawn, the horizon beginning to glow with the first hints of morning. He led the way, his presence a reassuring constant beside you as the path darkened, the night making it harder to see. 

Jace offered to guard both of your horses back, while you prepared for your chambers.

As you stepped inside, a lively chatter greeted you, echoing through the stone corridors. Baela and Rhaena, vibrant and full of energy, were waiting for you near the entrance hall. Their faces lit up with excitement, their eyes sparkling with curiosity as they spotted you approaching.

“There you are!” Baela exclaimed, her voice bright and cheerful. She hurried towards you, followed closely by Rhaena, who wore an equally eager expression.

“You’ve been out almost all night,” Rhaena added, her tone filled with a mix of teasing and genuine interest. 

“We took a stroll to the cove,” you said. “It was a peaceful night. We talked, and enjoyed the quiet. It was... pleasant.”

Baela and Rhaena listened intently, their expressions shifting from anticipation to satisfaction. Baela’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she nudged you gently. “I hope Jacaerys was a good companion. We wouldn’t want you to think poorly of Dragonstone just because of a chilly night.”

You chuckled, feeling a blush of warmth spread across your cheeks at the attention. “He was,”

As you walked towards your chamber’s doors, Baela’s excitement seemed almost infectious. Yet, despite the outward cheer, you couldn’t shake a lingering uncertainty. Baela’s reactions were hard to read. 

She turned to you with a smile that seemed almost too perfect. “I’m glad you had a good night, it is important for you two to spend time together.”

Her words were kind, but the subtext felt layered. You couldn’t tell if she was giving her blessing wholeheartedly or if she was still processing her own feelings about Jacaerys. The complexity of their shared past, intertwined with the new future you were all stepping into, made the situation delicate.

As you closed the door behind you, you leaned against it, letting out a long breath. The night had been full of unexpected moments and conflicting emotions. Jacaerys's promise of a happy marriage still echoed in your mind, filling you with hope. Yet, the sadness you'd glimpsed in Baela's eyes reminded you of the complicated web of relationships you'd stepped into.

You changed into your nightgown and slipped into bed, your mind whirling with thoughts of moonlit coves, dragon pits, and the promise of a future yet to unfold.

—————

The next morning dawned bright and clear, the sun's rays streaming through your window and gently rousing you from sleep. As you blinked awake, the events of the previous night came flooding back – the moonlit ride, the intimate conversation with Jacaerys in the alcove, and the promise of meeting Vermax today.

A mix of excitement and nervousness fluttered in your stomach as you rose and began to prepare for the day. You chose a sturdy riding dress, practical yet flattering, and braided your hair to keep it out of your face. As you fastened a cloak around your shoulders, a soft knock sounded at your door.

"Come in," you called, expecting to see one of the handmaids.

Instead, it was Jacaerys who entered, looking slightly hesitant but with a warm smile on his face. His day clothes were already on, a red cape falling from his shoulders.

 "Good morrow," he said softly. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not at all," you replied, your heart skipping a beat at his unexpected presence, fingers struggling to tie the cloak’s strings, too focused on him. "I was just getting ready for the day."

Jacaerys nodded, his eyes taking in your attire. “Need help?" he asked. 

You nodded, grateful for the assistance. Jacaerys stepped closer, his fingers deftly working on the cloak's fastenings. The proximity sent a shiver down your spine, and you caught a hint of his scent – a mixture of leather and something uniquely him.

"There," he said softly, stepping back once the cloak was secured. His eyes met yours, a hint of warmth in their depths. 

"I thought perhaps we could break our fast together before we go, if you're amenable?"

His thoughtfulness touched you, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. "I'd like that very much," you said with a smile.

As you walked together to the great hall, you couldn't help but notice the change in Jacaerys's demeanor. He seemed more relaxed in your presence, the tension that had marked your earlier interactions noticeably diminished. 

The great hall was relatively quiet, with only a few early risers scattered about. Jacaerys led you to a small table near one of the windows, where a spread of fresh bread, fruits, and warm porridge awaited.

"I hope this is to your liking," he said, pulling out a chair for you. "I wasn't sure of your preferences, so I asked for a variety. I hope it isn’t too much."

You sat down, touched by his consideration. "It looks wonderful, thank you."

As you began to eat, a comfortable silence settled between you. Jacaerys seemed lost in thought, his gaze occasionally drifting to the window and the view of the dragon pit in the distance.

"Are you nervous about meeting Vermax?" he asked suddenly, his eyes focusing back on you.

You considered the question, taking a sip of warm tea before answering. "A little," you admitted. "I've never been this close to a dragon before. But I'm more excited than nervous, I think."

Jacaerys smiled, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Vermax can sense emotions, he'll know if you're afraid, but if you remain calm he will be as well."

You nodded, absorbing his words. "I'll do my best to stay calm," you promised. "And I truly am looking forward to meeting him."

Something softened in Jacaerys's expression at your words. He reached across the table, his hand coming to rest lightly on yours. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you found yourself lost in his gaze for a moment. The connection between you felt stronger, a fragile bridge being built with each shared moment.

As you finished your meal, Jacaerys stood, offering you his hand. "Shall we?" he asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.

You took his hand, feeling the strength and warmth of his grip. "Lead the way," you said with a smile.

As you made your way through the castle corridors, Jacaerys walking beside you, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from passing servants and courtiers. It was clear that your outing the previous night had not gone unnoticed, and you felt a flutter of self-consciousness.

Jacaerys seemed to sense your discomfort. "Pay them no mind," he said quietly, his hand briefly touching the small of your back in a gesture of support. "They'll have something new to gossip about by midday."

His touch, though fleeting, sent a warmth through you that lingered even as you stepped out into the crisp morning air. The dragon pit loomed before you, an imposing structure that seemed to dwarf everything around it.

As you approached, you could hear the low rumbles and occasional screeches of the dragons within. Your steps faltered slightly, and Jacaerys paused, turning to face you.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, forcing a smile. "Just a bit nervous," you admitted.

Jacaerys's expression softened. "It's natural to be nervous," he said. "But Vermax is kind, do not fret."

As you entered the dragon pit, the air grew warmer, filled with the scent of smoke and something distinctly reptilian. Jacaerys led you towards a large pen, where a magnificent creature lay curled up, its scales shimmering in the dim light.

"Vermax," Jacaerys called softly, his voice filled with affection.

The dragon stirred, raising its massive head. Its eyes, intelligent and piercing, fixed upon you, and you felt a moment of panic. But then Jacaerys's hand found yours, squeezing gently in reassurance.

"It's alright," he murmured. "Just breathe. Let him get used to your scent."

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain still as Vermax's nostrils flared, taking in your scent. After what felt like an eternity, the dragon let out a low rumble that sounded almost... approving?

Jacaerys smiled, his face lighting up with pride. "He likes you," he said, his voice filled with warmth. "Would you like to touch him?"

Your eyes widened in surprise. "Is that... safe?"

Jacaerys nodded in a chuckle, gently guiding your hand forward. "Just here, along his neck. His scales are warm."

He mumbled words – commands – in High Valyrian, a language that you did not quite understand. As Jacaerys's gentle voice wove through the ancient words, you felt a strange calm wash over you. His hand steadied yours, guiding it towards Vermax's neck. The dragon’s scales were warm, surprisingly smooth, and a thrill of awe coursed through you at the touch.

Vermax's gaze remained fixed on you, but there was no malice in it, only curiosity. Your hand moved slowly, feeling the powerful muscles beneath the creature's skin. The dragon emitted a low, contented rumble, and Jace's smile grew wider.

With trembling fingers, you reached out, gasping softly as your hand made contact with Vermax's humid and warm scales. They were indeed warm, and smoother than you had expected. The dragon rumbled again, the sound reverberating through your entire body.

“There we go,” Jacaerys murmured, watching as Vermax responded to your gentle touch with a low, rumbling purr. It was like nothing you’d ever heard before – a deep resonance that seemed to echo within your very bones. The dragon's presence was overwhelming, a creature of immense power and grace. Yet here, in this moment, it seemed almost… gentle.

Jacaerys stood close beside you, his hand still lightly covering yours, offering reassurance through the contact. The dragon pit was quiet, save for the occasional shifting of massive limbs and the rustling of scales as Vermax settled more comfortably under your touch. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and warm metal, an atmosphere charged with both mystery and excitement. 

"He's magnificent," you breathed, unable to tear your eyes away from the dragon's gleaming eyes, which seemed to hold a world of secrets within them.

Jacaerys watched you, his eyes soft with an emotion you couldn't quite name. "He trusts you," he said quietly. 

He marveled at how quickly Vermax had accepted you, a bond forming almost instantly. In his experience, dragons were fiercely independent creatures, wary of strangers and cautious around those they did not know. The ease with which Vermax had welcomed you was rare, a testament to something intangible that Jacaerys could sense but not quite articulate.

Jacaerys had seen many attempts to win a dragon's favor and fail; it was a delicate dance of trust and mutual respect, often requiring patience and time. Yet here you were, a newcomer to Dragonstone, and Vermax was already responding to you with a gentleness that belied his formidable nature.

Vermax cooed, his big eyes closing as you ran your hand over his scales, Jace’s cautiously hovering over. 

"He really does like you," Jacaerys said, a note of wonder in his voice. "I've never seen him take to someone so quickly."

You looked up at Jacaerys, a smile spreading across your face. "Is that unusual?"

He nodded, his eyes moving between you and Vermax. "Dragons are... particular about who they allow near them. It took some of our most experienced dragon keepers months to gain Vermax's trust to this degree."

A warmth spread through your chest at his words, you turned back to Vermax, continuing to stroke his green scales gently. "Thank you for trusting me," you whispered to the dragon.

Vermax rumbled again, the sound almost like a purr. Jacaerys chuckled softly. 

"Does he understand?” you asked.

"To some extent, yes. He senses your sincerity."

You nodded, absorbing this. The dragon's massive head lowered slightly, its eyes fluttering shut as if enjoying the sensation of your touch. Vermax's breaths came in slow, rhythmic pulses, and you found yourself mirroring them, a sense of calm washing over you. 

“He’s like a pup,” you said, a smile creeping to your face. 

Jacaerys’s laughter was soft, a warm, gentle sound that seemed to blend seamlessly with the low rumbling of Vermax. “That’s a charming way to put it.”

You hummed a laugh, eyes focusing on the beast that grumbled beneath your hand. “Look,” Jace said, pressing his palm against yours to apply more pressure on the dragon’s neck. He moved both of your hands up to the back of the ear, you on your tiptoes as Vermax moved his head down, welcoming the touch. 

Jacaerys applied pressure once again, and the dragon tilted its head, eyes half-closed in a state of pure contentment. 

Jace smiled at the sight, his eyes reflecting a mixture of pride and affection. “He truly enjoys this,” he said, his voice a gentle murmur.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching. You turned to see Baela entering the dragon pit, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you and Jacaerys.

She stood near the entrance, her gaze moving from you to Jacaerys and then to Vermax. There was a moment of awkward silence as her eyes took in the intimate scene – you, with your hand resting on the dragon’s neck, Jacaerys close beside you.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, surprised to have found somebody in the dragon pit, usually only the keepers being there. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Jacaerys’s posture stiffened, his expression slipping into a mask of polite neutrality. He took a step back, his hand reluctantly withdrawing from yours. The warmth of his touch, which had felt so reassuring moments before, was now a memory of something he seemed to regret. 

“You’re not interrupting,” he said, his voice measured, betraying none of the emotions that seemed to ripple just beneath the surface. “We were just… introducing her to Vermax.”

Baela’s eyes flickered to Jacaerys, and for a moment, the weight of their shared history seemed to press down on the space between the three of you. The warmth in Jacaerys’s expression was gone, replaced by a hint of discomfort, as if he were grappling with a conflict of emotions. 

Baela cleared her throat, attempting to bridge the gap. “I came to check on Moondancer and make sure she’s comfortable. I didn’t realize you’d be here.” 

Jacaerys shifted uncomfortably, the strain of his previous joy now visible in the tight set of his shoulders. “I should–” he began, but the words seemed to falter. He cleared his throat and straightened, trying to regain his composure. 

“I should let you be. I’ve taken up enough of your time.” Jace offered a polite, albeit slightly strained, smile as he turned towards you. His eyes held a flicker of something unreadable, a mixture of resignation and lingering affection. "I should take my leave," he said softly, his voice carrying a note of finality. 

You nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment at the abrupt change in mood. "Thank you for introducing me to him," you said, your voice sincere.

Jacaerys’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, a fleeting smile touching his lips before he turned to Baela. "I hope the rest of the day treats you both well."

Baela's expression softened as she watched Jacaerys retreat towards the entrance. As he walked away, the tension in the dragon pit seemed to dissipate, replaced by an air of quiet contentment.

After a beat of silence, she spoke, breaking the awkward moment. Baela’s gaze softened as she approached you, her initial surprise melting into genuine warmth. “I’m truly sorry for intruding,” she said, her tone sincere. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You smiled softly at Baela, trying to ease the lingering tension in the air. "It's alright, truly. You weren't intruding at all."

Baela approached, her eyes drifting to Vermax, who was still rumbling contentedly. "He seems to have taken a liking to you," she observed, a hint of admiration in her voice.

You glanced back at the dragon, feeling a mixture of awe and affection. "Jacaerys was kind enough to introduce us. I've never been this close to a dragon before, I’m quite nervous."

Baela chuckled softly, her laughter a soothing balm that eased your nerves. “That’s completely understandable,” she said. “The first time I was near Moondancer, I was shaking like a leaf. Dragons can be intimidating. But you handled it with such grace; Vermax is usually more reserved.”

Her words felt like a quiet reassurance, a bridge between your anxieties and the reality of the moment. You could see the sincerity in her eyes, the genuine appreciation she held for this small triumph. It was as if she, too, was celebrating the bond that was beginning to form.

“Jace must have really taken to you,” Baela continued, her eyes twinkling with a knowing smile. 

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at Baela's words, a mixture of pride and embarrassment flushing your cheeks. "He's been very patient with me," you admitted, your eyes drifting back to where Jacaerys had disappeared. "I'm grateful for his kindness."

Baela nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "He's got a gentle touch, that one."

You found yourself curious about the history between Baela and Jacaerys, but hesitated to pry. Instead, you turned your attention back to Vermax, who was still rumbling contentedly nearby. 

A gentle breeze stirred the air in the dragon pit, carrying with it the mingled scents of smoke and dragonhide. You watched as Vermax shifted slightly, his massive tail curling around him in a relaxed pose. The dragon’s contentment was palpable, a testament to the bond forming between you and the creature.

Baela cleared her throat, breaking the tranquil moment. “I should get going to check on Moondancer,” she said, her tone light and cheerful. “I will see you later? For our midday meal.”

You nodded, eyes trailing after her as she walked away from you. The moment with Jacaerys had been special, filled with a blend of tenderness and excitement. His departure had left a lingering sense of something unfinished, a space where his presence had been warm and reassuring. Now, as you stood alone with Vermax, you felt a pang of longing for the ease and connection you’d shared moments before.

You glanced towards the entrance of the dragon pit. Vermax rumbled again, a sound that felt almost like a fond farewell as you turned to leave. 

—————

Days drifted by, each day settling into a rhythm that felt both comforting and, at times, monotonous. Driven by a restless energy, you found yourself drawn to the training yard one afternoon, eager for a distraction from the sameness of your daily routine.

Your eyes were drawn to the center of the yard when you arrived, settling to stand nearby. You watched as knights clashed their swords, a few of them sharpening them and others simply training. Finally, your attention drifted to the grunts and louder sharp sounds that echoed in the air, Jacaerys wore a makeshift armor, only covering his chest and part of his legs as he aimed for the man before him.

There was something different about Jace. His movements were charged with an almost palpable frustration, each strike of his blade carrying a weight of unspoken anger. You watched, entranced and a little concerned, as he danced with his partner, his footwork sure and purposeful.

But then, in a moment that seemed to unfold in slow motion, Jacaerys overreached. The blade slipped from his grasp and turned against him, biting into the flesh of his hand with a viciousness that made you wince. The clang of the sword hitting the ground was like a thunderclap in the sudden silence that followed, every eye in the yard drawn to the prince’s moment of vulnerability.

It wasn't until Jacaerys stumbled back, his sword clattering to the ground, that you realized what had happened.

Jacaerys grimaced, the pain evident in the way he cradled his injured hand. Blood trickled down his fingers, a stark crimson against his pale skin. You felt a sharp pang of concern, your instincts urging you to go to him, to offer aid.

"Your Grace!" The knight exclaimed, rushing forward as Jacaerys clutched his hand to his chest. 

“Stay back.” Jace ordered, a grunt leaving his lips again as he looked down at his bloodied hand. The knight looked around, unsure of what to do.

You watched as Jacaerys waved off the knight, the young prince's eyes blazing with a mix of embarrassment and anger. It was clear that the pain was secondary to the frustration that now simmered beneath his skin, a potent mix of pride and self-reproach that made him bristle at the attention.

He stood, still cradling his hand, and straightened his posture, his expression hardening into one of determination. He nodded at the knights who had turned to look at him, his voice steady despite the obvious pain. “Back to your swords.”

The command seemed to snap the knights out of their shock, and they quickly resumed their practice, the sounds of clashing blades filling the air once more. Jacaerys remained where he was, his breath coming in sharp bursts as he fought to regain his composure.

You hesitated for a moment, torn between respecting his pride and offering the help he clearly needed. But the sight of his bloodied hand, coupled with the raw frustration etched across his features, propelled you forward. You approached him slowly, your footsteps deliberate and unthreatening.

"Jacaerys," you said softly, your voice barely rising above the din of the training yard. He turned to look at you, his eyes meeting yours. There was a distance in his gaze, a barrier that seemed to rise between you, but you pressed on, determined to offer whatever solace you could.

"Let me help you," you offered gently, gesturing to his injured hand. The words hung in the air between you, a lifeline extended across the chasm of his pride.

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, his gaze dropping to his hand, the blood now drying against his skin. 

"I don't need help," Jacaerys said, his voice clipped and guarded.

"Let me see."

Jacaerys' jaw tightened, a flicker of frustration passing across his features before he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. He seemed to weigh your words, the conflict evident in his eyes as he considered your offer.

Finally, with a reluctant nod, he extended his injured hand toward you. He avoided looking at you as you held his wrist, moving him to the inside of the castle as blood dripped down his fingers and onto the ground. 

As you led him inside the castle, away from the watchful eyes of the knights, Jacaerys' frustration seemed to simmer beneath the surface, an internal tempest he struggled to control. His movements were rigid, his silence heavy with unspoken words.

The frustration that clouded his mind was more than just about the training. It was a culmination of several things – the complexities of his relationship with Baela, the unease and uncertainty that seemed to seep into his days since you arrived, and the pressures of his own expectations. The training had become his escape, a way to channel his pent-up emotions into something tangible, something he could control.

Your presence now was a stark reminder of that inner storm. The sight of you, coming to his aid with a genuine concern that cut through his self-imposed barriers, only intensified his sense of vulnerability. It was as if your intervention had torn down a carefully constructed wall, exposing the raw nerves he had been trying to shield.

Inside the castle, you guided him to a small room, a quiet space away from the clamor of the training yard. The sunlight filtered through a narrow window, casting a soft glow on the stone walls. You set him down on a bench, your movements deliberate as you prepared to tend to his wound.

With a deep breath, you took his hand gently, the blood now congealing into dark patches against his pale skin. As you cleaned the wound, your touch was steady and soothing, a balm to his troubled mind.

Jacaerys watched you in silence, the weight of his frustration palpable in the tight lines of his face. His eyes, though distant at first, began to soften as you worked. Each brush of your fingers against his skin seemed to draw out some of the tension that had gripped him.

Yet, he refused to speak.

The room remained quiet save for the soft rustling of fabric and the gentle flow of water as you cleaned and bandaged his hand. 

As you finished bandaging his hand, you met his gaze with a soft, reassuring smile. The simple act of caring for him had forged a connection, bridging the gap created by his frustrations and the barriers he had erected. The walls he had so carefully constructed seemed to crumble, if only slightly, in the face of your genuine compassion.

"All done," you said gently, your voice a soothing murmur in the quiet room.

Jacaerys nodded, the simple gesture carrying a weight of gratitude and acknowledgment. His eyes, though still distant, held a trace of the vulnerability he had tried to shield. Unsure of what to do next, you sat in silence, his bandaged hand still sitting on yours, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of the cloth. 

With a sigh, you moved to stand. “I shall take my leave–” 

“No.”

You looked at him, a mixture of surprise and curiosity in your eyes. "Is there something else you need?" you asked, your voice gentle and open.

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours as if grappling with something he couldn’t quite articulate. The vulnerability that had surfaced during your care seemed to linger, a delicate thread connecting you both.

For a moment, Jacaerys remained silent, his expression a complex blend of contemplation and unease. It was clear that he was wrestling with the emotions that had surfaced – emotions that he had been trying to keep under control.

Finally, with a deep breath, he spoke. “I just… need a moment. Alone, but not alone. If that makes any sense.”

“I’m not following, Jacaerys.”

“Just… Just stay. Here.”

You studied him for a moment, the sincerity in his eyes and the depth of his request weighing heavily on you. His expression was a blend of vulnerability and longing, a quiet plea for comfort that he could not fully articulate aloud.

With a nod, you settled back into your seat, the minutes ticked by slowly, the only sounds the soft rustling of fabric as he adjusted his position and the occasional sigh that escaped him, each one a testament to the inner battle he was fighting. You watched him with quiet empathy, allowing him the space to navigate his emotions without feeling pressured to fill the silence.

Jacaerys’ gaze drifted out of the window, his eyes lost in thought. The sunlight cast a warm, golden hue over his face, and you couldn’t help but think that he looked beautiful. 

You could see the gradual softening of his features, the way his shoulders relaxed a bit more. It was as if the burden he carried had lightened just a fraction, if only because he had someone to share it with, even if only in silence.

Neither of you spoke of it since then, the needed company enough to ease the burden that Jacaerys had been carrying. 

—————

Days had passed, marked by the quiet moments of solace you'd been sharing. Jacaerys seemed to carry himself with a bit more ease around you, a small but noticeable shift in his demeanor. Though the castle continued its usual rhythm, with its clattering armor and distant roars of dragons, the moments of companionship between you had become a gentle, sincere bond.

You'd often find yourself drawn to him during those moments. It was as if the space you’d created together in the few months you’d been there had left a mark – a subtle, lingering sense of understanding that hung between you, yet not strong enough to end the awkward moments where Jace’s brain reminded him of Baela, or when he’d get nervous around her still. 

Though he didn’t have anybody to speak of it with, Jacaerys felt a stronger care towards you, slowly beginning to accept his duty and where his heart was taking him.

Whether it was through shared meals or the occasional chance meeting in the castle corridors, there was a new layer of connection that seemed to envelop your interactions.

One afternoon, as you wandered the castle grounds, you found yourself in the garden, little Joffrey laid next to you, a serene haven amid the chaos of court life. The sun was beginning its descent, casting a warm, golden light over the flowering beds. 

You had come to clear your mind, to find a moment of peace, and the small child had trailed behind you, desperate for some company.

Lost in thought, you almost didn’t notice Jacaerys approaching until he was almost upon you. The soft crunch of gravel beneath his boots alerted you to his presence, and you looked up, a smile forming on your lips as you met his gaze.

Jacaerys’ expression was relaxed, a stark contrast to the intensity you had seen in him before. He glanced at Joffrey, who was now busy examining a particularly vibrant blossom with wide-eyed curiosity.

“Hello,” the kid greeted, your tone warm and welcoming.

“Hello,” Jacaerys replied, his voice carrying a gentle warmth. His eyes flickered briefly to Joffrey before settling back on you. “I hope I’m not intruding.”

You shook your head, the soft rustle of your movement blending with the whisper of the wind through the garden. “Not at all. Joffrey’s just enjoying the flowers.”

Jacaerys paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on the child. With a thoughtful expression and a small smile, he approached and gently placed a hand on Joffrey’s small shoulder. “Joffrey, why don’t you go find Rhaena? I believe she’s somewhere near the training yard.”

Joffrey looked up at him, his expression a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. “But I want to stay with you,” he protested softly.

“You’ll find Rhaena much more interesting,” Jacaerys coaxed, his tone kind but firm. “And I promise I’ll see you soon.”

“Please?”

Jacaerys’ gaze softened as he looked at the little boy. His hand lingered on Joffrey’s shoulder, and you could see the hesitation in his eyes. With a gentle sigh, he turned to you, his expression easing into a more relaxed smile, letting you choose.

“It’s alright,” you said, chuckling. “If Joffrey wishes to stay, then let him. It’s not often we have the chance to simply enjoy the garden.”

Joffrey’s face lit up with a delighted grin, his initial reluctance melting away. He clambered back to his spot next to you, resuming his exploration of the flowers with renewed enthusiasm. 

Jacaerys settled onto the ground, leaving his sword behind and nestling next to his brother, his posture relaxed as he observed the scene before him. The child mumbled flower names he’d learned about, picking some up to hold them up to you and Jace in pride. 

As the three of you sat in the garden, the atmosphere was filled with a gentle tranquility. Joffrey's innocent enthusiasm for the flowers brought a lightness to the air, his excited chatter a soothing backdrop to the moment.

Jacaerys watched his younger brother with a fondness that softened his features. His eyes, usually guarded, held a warmth that spoke volumes about his love for Joffrey. As the child continued to explore, holding up various blooms for inspection, Jacaerys found his gaze drifting towards you.

There was something different in the way he looked at you now. The tension that had often clouded his expression in your presence seemed to have eased, replaced by a quiet appreciation. It was as if he was seeing you anew, through the lens of your kindness towards your surroundings and the gentle way you interacted with him.

He felt his chest tighten in nervousness as he reached behind his brother, who was too distracted by the flowers in front of him to notice Jacaerys’ hand itching towards yours. 

“You seem more at ease,” you remarked gently, the words barely more than a whisper, yet carrying a depth of observation. “How are you finding things lately?”

Jacaerys shrugged a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’m well, I suppose.”

Jace shifted slightly, his fingers still hovering near yours, but he hesitated. His eyes flickered between you and Joffrey, who was now eagerly describing a particularly colorful flower to you with wide, innocent eyes. The child’s chatter filled the space between you, an unwitting barrier that Jacaerys seemed to navigate with care.

He found himself drawn more and more to your presence. The way you listened attentively to his little brother, offering gentle encouragement and genuine interest, stirred something within him. It was a softness he hadn't expected to feel, a warmth that seemed to spread through his chest.

His fingers, still hovering near yours, trembled slightly with indecision. The desire to bridge that final gap, to make that physical connection, warred with the lingering echoes of his past with Baela. But as he watched you smile at Joffrey, your eyes crinkling with genuine affection, Jacaerys felt something shift within him.

Slowly, cautiously, he let his hand move those final few inches. His fingers brushed against yours, a touch so light it could have been mistaken for a breeze. But then, with a surge of courage, he gently covered your hand with his.

The contact sent a jolt through him, a mix of nervousness and excitement that made his heart race. He kept his eyes fixed on Joffrey, afraid to meet your gaze, afraid of what he might see there. But he didn't pull away.

You glanced at him, but his eyes were still focused on Joffrey, though you could see a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

With a final, enthusiastic show of a particularly bright bloom, Joffrey tugged at your sleeve and glanced up at you. “I want to go find Rhaena now,” he said, his small voice tinged with excitement at the prospect of a new adventure.

You looked at him and nodded, smiling at his boundless energy. “She’ll be happy to see you.”

Joffrey beamed, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “I’ll tell her all about the flowers!” he declared, holding up the few flowers that could fit in his palm before scampering off towards the training yard, his laughter and light footsteps fading into the distance.

As the child’s presence disappeared, the garden seemed to settle back into its previous serenity, leaving just you and Jacaerys alone amidst the blooming tranquility. 

Jacaerys shifted slightly, his hand still resting gently over yours. He finally allowed his gaze to meet yours. His eyes, now more open and honest, held a hint of the conflicted emotions he had been grappling with. 

You could tell something ate at him, had he not wanted to talk about it with his brother present. Gazing at him, you offered a gentle, encouraging smile. “Would you like to talk about what’s troubling you?”

Jacaerys looked away for a moment, his brow furrowing as he struggled with his thoughts. His fingers tightened slightly around yours. 

“It’s just…” he began, his voice carrying a hint of frustration. “I’ve been feeling… left out. Disregarded, almost.”

You tilted your head slightly, encouraging him to continue. “How so?”

Jacaerys shifted his position, the tension evident in the way he gripped the grass beneath him. “I feel like my mother… she doesn’t trust me to take on the responsibilities I believe I’m ready for.”

His words came out in a rush, as if the weight of them had been too much to keep contained any longer. “She hasn’t sent me to war, hasn’t allowed me to fly on dragonback to our allies or to attack the Greens. I understand that she wants to protect me, but it feels as though she’s holding me back, not giving me a chance to prove myself.”

You considered his words carefully before responding. "Your mother's caution comes from a place of love, Jace.” you moved to sit closer to him. “The realm is at war, and losing you would be devastating, not just for her."

His brow furrowed, a mix of understanding and lingering frustration evident in his expression. "I know that, but–"

"She's lost so much already," you continued gently. "The thought of losing you too must terrify her."

A flicker of understanding crossed Jacaerys' face. "I hadn't... I mean, I know she worries, but..."

He brought his free hand to his hair, pushing it back before. “I just wish she’d let me act. I only wish to help.”

“It might not feel like it, but sometimes being present and prepared is just as important as taking immediate action.”

He let himself fall back, hand still in yours as he laid on the grass. You settled beside him, keeping a respectful distance but close enough to offer comfort. 

"You want to make a difference, Jacaerys," you said softly, your voice blending with the tranquil sounds around you. "That’s a noble desire."

He closed his eyes for a moment, the serene atmosphere providing a brief escape from his inner turmoil. "I want to prove that I’m capable, that I can be trusted with more than just the responsibilities here at the castle."

“I rather like having you here, at the castle.” you admitted, cheeks burning as he turned to face you, you avoided his eyes.

Jacaerys’ gaze lingered on you, and you could feel the warmth of his attention even without looking directly at him. The confession had slipped out before you could fully rein it in, leaving you feeling a mix of embarrassment and vulnerability. 

You could see him processing your words, the flicker of surprise in his eyes softening into something more contemplative.

“You like having me here?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. There was a trace of something in his tone – curiosity, perhaps, or a tentative hope.

You nodded, still avoiding his gaze as you looked out at the blooming flowers. “Yes. Your presence here has been… comforting.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he almost whispered, “I like having you here, too.”

The realization that had begun to dawn upon him – the understanding of his feelings and the recognition of your presence as something deeply significant – seemed to transform the way he’d been looking at you. 

His eyes traced the contours of your face with a mix of awe and realization, as if seeing you in a light that was both startling and illuminating. The intensity of his stare spoke of a shift in his heart, a transition from the shadow of his past desires to the clarity of his present feelings.

His fingers moved to your wrist, softly caressing the skin as he stared. You felt your heart rate pick up, nervous under his gaze.

The realization that he had been holding back, that his past with Baela had obscured the thought of the potential of something new, seemed to now weigh heavily on him. Yet, despite the tumult of his emotions, there was a serene acceptance in his gaze as he watched you.

Eventually, he was shaken out of his thoughts by one of the handmaids approaching, hands together behind her back. “My prince, your presence is requested at the court.”

Jace’s hand reluctantly slipped from yours as he sat up, the moment of shared vulnerability giving way to the demands of his role. He looked at you, his expression a mix of regret and determination. “I suppose I must attend,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of reluctance.

You gave him a reassuring smile, though your heart felt a pang of disappointment at the interruption. “Of course. Duty calls.”

He rose to his feet, his posture shifting back into the prince’s armor of composure and authority. Yet, there was a softness in his eyes that lingered—a remnant of the moment you’d shared in the garden. He extended a hand to help you up, a gesture that was both courteous and intimate.

As you took his hand, you felt the warmth of his touch and the slight tremor in his fingers. It was as if the brief connection you had shared had made him more aware of your presence, more attuned to the quiet understanding that had passed between you.

“I’ll see you later?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of uncertainty as he looked at you.

You nodded, trying to keep the reassurance in your tone steady. “I’ll be around.”

Jacaerys offered a small, genuine smile before turning towards the handmaid, his demeanor shifting back to the prince of the realm. He followed her down the garden path, his steps more measured, his gaze occasionally turning back to where you stood.

—————

The prince was nowhere to be found. The castle’s usual rhythm was disrupted as whispers of Jacaerys’ disappearance spread through the corridors. The once-familiar sounds of bustling servants and the distant murmur of courtly debates felt suddenly fraught with tension. You moved through the stone halls with a sense of urgency, the weight of concern pressing heavily on your chest.

It had been a restless night after Jacaerys confided in you about his plans. His frustration and the quiet desperation in his voice had painted a vivid picture of a prince caught between duty and desire. He had sneaked past your chambers at midnight and told you, in hushed tones, about his decision to leave the castle in search of allies, to rally forces in favor of his mother’s cause. He begged for it to be kept a secret, for his mother would not allow it if he was found out. 

Now, as you scoured the castle, each passing moment felt like a lost opportunity to stop him. You had hoped he’d reconsider, that the gravity of his actions would weigh on him enough to stay, but now the absence of his familiar presence was a stark reminder of his resolve. You felt anxious at the amount of hours he’d been gone, his dragon with him.

As the days passed without any sign of Jacaerys, the castle's atmosphere remained tense, with whispered conversations falling silent as you approached. You couldn't shake the feeling of being an unwilling conspirator in the prince's absence.

To distract yourself from the gnawing worry, you sought out the company of Baela and Rhaena. You spent time with them in the gardens, listening to Baela's spirited tales of dragon-riding and Rhaena's quieter musings on history and lore. Their presence offered a semblance of normalcy in these unsettling times.

As the week drew to a close, you found yourself lying awake in your chambers, your mind racing with possibilities of Jacaerys' fate. The silence of the night was suddenly broken by a commotion in the halls. Heart pounding, you rose and moved towards the door, straining to make sense of the muffled voices and hurried footsteps.

Emerging into the corridor, you were met with a flurry of activity. Servants rushed past, carrying linens and basins of water. The air was thick with tension and an undercurrent of relief. As you made your way towards the source of the disturbance, you overheard fragments of conversation.

"The prince has returned..."

"...wounded, but alive..."

"...flew in on a weak Vermax..."

Your steps quickened as you approached Jacaerys' chambers. The door stood ajar, and you caught glimpses of the prince through the gap. He was seated on the edge of his bed, surrounded by maesters and attendants. His face was pale and drawn, with a bandage visible beneath his torn shirt and a bloodied gash on the side of his face, from his eyebrow to his cheek. 

As you hovered uncertainly in the doorway, torn between relief at his return and apprehension about the consequences of his actions, Jacaerys' gaze met yours. He shared a small smile before the door was shut fully.

Hours later, when the halls had once again fallen silent, restlessness clung to you like a second skin. So, when you heard the soft knock at your chamber door, your breath hitched with a mix of relief and apprehension. You recognized Jacaerys’ familiar rhythm: two quick raps, a pause, followed by another. Without hesitation, you moved to open the door, ushering him inside and closing it behind him with a soft click.

“Jace,” you whispered, your voice a blend of concern and gentle reproach. “You should be resting. The maesters–”

“They exaggerate,” he cut in, a wry smile curving his lips. The smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, which were shadowed with fatigue. “I can walk just fine, and these”, he gestured vaguely to his face and torso, “are merely flesh wounds. They’ll scar, nothing more.”

You took a long, careful look at him. Despite the bravado in his voice, you could see the toll of the day’s events etched into his features. The weariness was palpable in the way he held himself, slightly hunched as though to shield his injuries from the world. His normally bright eyes seemed dimmed, burdened with an invisible weight that hadn’t been there before he left.

“What happened out there?” you asked softly, guiding him to sit on the edge of your bed. You remained standing, unable to find the calm to settle.

Jacaerys sighed deeply, his hand running through his disheveled hair, pushing it away from his face. He shook his head, the gesture heavy with unspoken frustration and exhaustion. 

"It's... a long story," he said, his voice weary. "I wouldn't want to bore you with the details."

You moved closer, your eyes fixed on his face. "Jace, you could never bore me."

He looked up at you, a flicker of gratitude passing across his features. But then he shook his head again, more gently this time. "I appreciate that, truly. But right now... I just need a moment of peace. This past week has been..." He trailed off, seemingly unable to find the words to describe his ordeal.

"And I know that once my mother hears of my return, there will be no escaping her scolding," he added with a rueful smile. "I wanted to see you before that storm breaks."

Your heart softened at his words. You sat down beside him on the bed, careful not to jostle his injuries. "I'm glad you came," you said softly. "I've been worried sick about you."

Jacaerys turned to face you, his eyes searching yours. 

“We all have been,” you added. “Baela… your mother…”

A flicker of acknowledgement passed over Jacaerys' face at the mention of Baela, but it lacked the usual undercurrent of pain and longing you'd grown accustomed to seeing. Instead, there was a quiet acceptance in his eyes, as if a weight had been lifted.

"I'm sorry for worrying you all," he said softly, his gaze dropping to his hands.

Jacaerys remained quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on his hands. Though he didn't voice it, the week away had been harder than he'd anticipated, not just because of the physical trials he'd endured. He'd found himself missing your presence more than he'd expected – your counsel, your companionship, the comfort of your familiar face in a sea of uncertainty.

When he'd caught a glimpse of you outside his chambers earlier, a part of him had wanted to dismiss all the fussing maesters immediately. He'd longed to speak with you, to see you, to share the weight of his experiences, to seek solace in your understanding.

His eyes lifted to meet yours again, “What have you been doing in my absence?”

You huffed, fixing your posture and faking a smile. “Queen-to-be training, apparently.”

"Queen-to-be training?" he repeated, his tone a mix of amusement and sympathy. "I can only imagine. Let me guess – the maesters have been relentless?"

You nodded, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. "They were absolutely scandalized when they discovered I hadn't been taught to sew as a child. You'd think I'd committed some grave offense against the realm itself."

He shook his head, still smiling. Jace leaned back slightly, his posture relaxing as he listened to you. Despite his fatigue, he seemed genuinely entertained by your predicament. "And how are you faring with these... essential skills?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eye.

You gave him a playful glare. "I'll have you know, my stitches are only slightly crooked now. Though I fear my embroidered dragons look more like angry lizards."

This elicited another laugh from Jacaerys, louder this time. He quickly pressed a hand to his side, but the smile remained. "Well, I for one would be honored to have a tapestry of angry lizards adorning the castle walls."

You couldn't help but smile at Jacaerys' laughter, even as concern flickered in your eyes when he winced. It was good to see him in lighter spirits, despite his injuries.

"I'm glad you find my struggles amusing, Your Grace," you retorted with mock indignation.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

You couldn't help but smile at his fake offense. "Oh! And apparently, I've been pronouncing 'Targaryen' wrong all this time."

Jacaerys raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Oh? And how have you been saying it?"

You demonstrated, exaggerating your previous pronunciation. 

Jacaerys laughed loudly again, shaking his head. "Well, I suppose we can't have a future queen mangling the family name. Though between you and me, I think half the smallfolk say it differently anyway."

The way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the genuine amusement that softened the harsh lines of his face, was a reminder of the boyish prince beneath the layers of duty and exhaustion.

You watched him carefully, your heart aching with a mixture of relief and lingering worry. “You really should rest,” you said gently, reaching out to adjust the bandage on his forehead, which had started to peel from the corner. 

His hand came up to cup yours, linking your fingers together as he hesitated. “I suppose I should.”

As if summoned by some mischievous deity, a muffled voice filtered through the heavy chamber doors, shattering the intimate moment. The maester's call, though faint, rang out clearly in the sudden silence: "My prince?"

Jacaerys tensed slightly, his hand tightening around yours for a brief moment before he let out a soft sigh.

"It seems my reprieve was short-lived," he murmured, a note of resignation in his voice.

You both stood, reluctantly letting your hands fall apart. Jacaerys moved towards the door, his movements careful and measured to avoid aggravating his injuries. 

The door creaked open to reveal the maester, whose expression was a blend of relief and professional concern. Behind him, the flickering torchlight cast shadows that danced across the walls, adding to the sense of urgency.

“My prince,” the maester began, his gaze flickering to you with a polite nod, “You must rest.”

As he turned to follow the maester, he glanced back at you, a brief, almost imperceptible smile passing across his lips. The door closed behind them, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room. The soft rustling of fabric and the distant murmur of footsteps were the only sounds breaking the stillness. After a week of restless nights, you finally let sleep take over you.

The next day dawned with a flurry of activity in the castle. You rose early, your mind still occupied with thoughts of Jacaerys and the events of the previous night. As you prepared for your daily lessons, you caught snippets of conversation from passing servants – apparently, the prince had been confined to his chambers on the Queen's orders until his wounds fully healed.

Your morning was filled with the now-familiar routine of "queen-to-be" training, barely having time to visit your betrothed. Every time you’d tried to sneak past the maester in charge, or one of the maids, you’d be given a stern look that made you sit back down to focus on your duties. 

As you moved through the castle corridors between lessons, your path took you past Jacaerys' chambers. You slowed your steps, hoping for a glimpse or perhaps a chance to check on him. Instead, you saw Baela and Rhaena approaching his door.

You hesitated, watching as Baela knocked and then entered the room with a gentleness that seemed at odds with her usual boisterous demeanor. Through the briefly open door, you caught a glimpse of Jacaerys, propped up in bed, his face lighting up at the sight of his cousins.

A pang of something – jealousy? concern? – fluttered in your chest as you observed Baela's careful movements around Jacaerys, her hand resting on his arm, a small smile on both of their faces. But as you watched their interaction, brief as it was, you realized with a sense of relief that there was nothing more than friendship between them. The easy camaraderie, the lack of tension or hidden glances – it all spoke of a comfortable, familial bond rather than the romantic entanglement that had been haunting them for the past months.

As the door closed behind the sisters, you found yourself releasing a breath you hadn't realized you were holding. The knot of tension in your chest loosened, replaced by a warm feeling of reassurance. You continued on your way to your next lesson, your steps lighter than before.

Throughout the rest of the day, your thoughts occasionally drifted to Jacaerys, wondering how he was faring in his confinement. You made a mental note to find a way to visit him yourself, perhaps under the guise of delivering some reading material or simply to offer companionship during his recovery.

—————

Three days had gone by, Jace’s absense from the castle’s halls feeling like a palpable void. The castle's routine continued its relentless pace, but each day felt marked by the absence of the prince, who remained in his chambers as per the Queen’s decree. The usual sounds of the castle – footsteps echoing in the corridors, the murmur of conversations, and the clinking of dishes during meals – seemed muted without Jacaerys’ vibrant presence.

Your lessons, though diligently attended, seemed to stretch endlessly. The repetitive drills and the constant pressure to perfect every task left you feeling drained. 

On the third day, the weight of confinement began to bear down on you. The castle walls seemed to close in, and the routines felt increasingly stifling. You could no longer ignore the need to see Jacaerys, to offer him your support and comfort in person.

In the late afternoon, as the sun began to cast a warm, golden light through the castle windows, you decided to act. With a determined resolve, you gathered a stack of books, their leather covers and gold leafing catching the light, and made your way toward Jacaerys’ chambers. This time, you hoped your visit would be more than just a fleeting encounter.

As you approached his door, you took a deep breath, your nerves fluttering with anticipation. You knocked gently, the sound a soft reminder of your presence.

You were met with silence. 

You were about to knock a second time when the door creaked open just slightly, and you caught a glimpse of Jacaerys himself standing on the other side. His disheveled hair and the faint smile that tugged at his lips betrayed a hint of mischief.

Before you could react, he grabbed your hand with a swift, practiced motion and pulled you into the shadowed recess of the large closet adjacent to his door. The suddenness of the action left you breathless and slightly disoriented, but the familiar scent of cedar and leather from the closet’s wooden shelves quickly grounded you.

The closet was spacious enough to accommodate both of you. As your eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the small crack in the door, you saw Jacaerys leaning against the wooden wall, his face a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“You,” he said in a low voice, a smile playing at the corners of his lips, “have impeccable timing.”

You let out a soft laugh, your nerves calming as you realized the nature of this unexpected encounter. “Shouldn’t you be resting?” you teased, trying to peer through the sliver of light to gauge your surroundings.

Jacaerys shrugged lightly, though the movement was cautious to avoid aggravating his injuries. “The maesters have been relentless. They’ve turned my chambers into a medical haven. And every time they think I’m alone, they come barging in.”

“This is not quite the secret escape I envisioned,” Jacaerys continued, his voice tinged with a playful undertone. “But I needed a moment away from the constant attention.”

You turned to face him fully, the dim light highlighting the fatigue etched into his features. Despite his light-hearted words, the exhaustion was evident. “I can imagine,” you said softly. “I’m sorry to intrude. I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

He reached out and took your hand, his touch gentle but firm. Jacaerys’ smile widened, though his eyes remained shadowed with fatigue. “I’m glad you came,” he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine relief. “I’ve missed our conversations.”

“I’ve missed them too,” you admitted. 

“I’m sure they have gone to folly, they won’t let me stand from bed without making a fuss of it.” he nodded his head towards the doors, referring to the healers. Though the light was dim, you could still see some of the light hit his face, letting you see the wide smile on his face, and the less-reddened stitches on his brow.

You glanced around the small space, the closet’s confines feeling oddly intimate as you and Jacaerys stood close together, the warmth of his presence a comforting balm. You could still hear the distant murmur of servants and the occasional clatter of dishes, but the noise felt miles away from this hidden nook.

“You’ve been so diligent with your lessons,” he said, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “I was beginning to think you enjoyed them more than my company.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “Hardly,” you said. “If you could see the looks I get from the maesters when I try to sneak away, you’d know I’m barely enjoying myself.”

You heard the faintest sound of footsteps approaching, and your heart skipped a beat. The maesters, ever vigilant, seemed to be making their rounds again. The muffled conversation from outside the door grew clearer, and you could catch fragments of their voices discussing treatments and concerns.

Jacaerys tensed slightly, his hand squeezing yours for a brief moment before letting go. He brought his finger to his lips, telling you to be silent. He glanced towards the door, his face reflecting a mixture of concern and frustration. 

“We should–”

Jace cut you off by pushing the door to the closet, creaking it open just enough to let in a sliver of light, and you heard one of the maesters call out, “My prince?”

Jacaerys’ eyes widened slightly, and he moved quickly, guiding you further into the closet’s shadows. You followed his lead, pressing yourself against the wall.

The maesters’ voices grew louder, and you could see their shadows falling across the floor just outside the closet. “He must be somewhere around here,” one of them said with a hint of irritation. “He can’t have vanished into thin air.”

The tension in the small, shadowed closet was almost palpable. You and Jacaerys huddled together, your breaths shallow and synchronized as you listened to the footsteps drawing nearer. 

Jacaerys' hand, still warm from holding yours, rested lightly on your back, a comforting presence amid the growing anxiety. His face, illuminated by the narrow stream of light sneaking in through the partially opened closet door, reflected a hint of amusement.

The maesters' voices were now directly outside the door, their conversation laced with frustration. “He couldn’t have gone far,” one of them said with a note of exasperation. 

“His Lady is also gone.” you recognized the voice from the maester that ‘helped’ with your duties. 

The sound of the maesters' footsteps echoed ominously in the corridor, each step growing closer and more insistent. The air in the closet was warm and heavy, mingling with the faint scent of cedar and leather. You pressed yourself closer to Jacaerys, your heart pounding in sync with the increasingly agitated voices outside.

Jacaerys' attempt to stifle a giggle came out as a muffled snort, his shoulders shaking with barely contained mirth. The sound was so unexpected that it made you bite back a laugh of your own, though you knew it would only draw more attention. You nudged him gently, your eyes narrowing with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

“Jace,” you whispered fiercely, “this is not the time for laughter.”

He covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of apology and suppressed hilarity. “I’m sorry,” he managed to whisper, his voice trembling with barely contained laughter.

"...The Lady must be with him," one of the maesters said, frustration evident in his tone. "It’s rather irregular for them both to be missing at once."

You could almost see the disapproving frown on the maester’s face. The idea of being found in such a compromising position made your cheeks burn with mortification. Your heart raced as you imagined the potential scandal that could arise from this misunderstanding.

“They must think we–”

Jacaerys, sensing your distress, gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. His eyes, despite their fatigue, held a mixture of amusement and tenderness. He leaned in slightly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “They’ve jumped to conclusions. Don’t worry.”

You covered your face with your hands, even though he could barely see you, he stifled another giggle. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of mortification at the thought that anyone might assume something dishonorable was happening between you. Without thinking, you reached for the doors, wishing to push them open and stop the gossiping outside that questioned yours and the prince’s ability to wait for the wedding.

Jacaerys let out a barely audible sigh, his hand still resting lightly on your back. “We should stay put,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “They’ll leave eventually.”

You nodded, stepping back and pressing closer into the shadows of the closet. The cool, cedar-scented air was a stark contrast to the warmth of Jace’s body near yours. The narrow stream of light that filtered through the crack in the door illuminated the small space in patches, casting elongated shadows that danced around you.

Minutes felt like hours as you waited in the tense silence. You could hear the maesters’ frustration mounting, their voices rising in pitch as they grew increasingly exasperated. Jacaerys was still smiling at the distress.

The voices of the maesters gradually began to recede, their footsteps growing fainter as they moved further down the corridor. You exhaled slowly, the tension in your shoulders easing just slightly. Jacaerys, still pressed close to you, let out a soft chuckle, though he quickly stifled it with a hand over his mouth.

You could feel the heat of his laughter reverberating through his chest, a sensation that was both comforting and endearing despite the precariousness of your situation. You turned to him, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. His smile, despite the exhaustion that lined his face, was infectious.

“You could try to find a more comfortable hiding spot, next time.”

“Noted,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. You hoped that by the time all the maesters were out of the room and you stepped out of the closet, the evident flush of embarrassment that showed in your stance and your face. 

As the final echoes of the maesters' footsteps faded away, you and Jacaerys remained hidden in the closet, the silence now a companion rather than an adversary. The tension that had clung to the air began to dissipate, replaced by a more relaxed atmosphere that was punctuated by Jacaerys' muffled chuckles and your own quiet, relieved laughter.

You shifted slightly, careful not to jostle Jacaerys too much, and peered through the narrow crack in the closet door. The hallway outside was empty, the earlier disturbance seemingly a distant memory. You turned back to Jacaerys, whose face was lit by a smile that softened the lines of worry etched into his features.

“Are they gone?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Jacaerys nodded, his expression one of satisfaction mixed with residual amusement. “I think we’re clear. Though I doubt they'll stop their search anytime soon.”

With a final glance towards the partially open door, you slowly eased out of the closet, Jacaerys following suit with a careful, measured movement. The light from the corridor spilled into the closet, illuminating the room in a warm glow that made the shadows retreat. You watched as Jace made his way to his bed, patting the spot next to him for you to sit. 

Jacaerys sank onto the bed with a sigh of relief, the weariness of his injuries evident in the way he settled. You sat beside him, careful to keep your movements gentle and unhurried. 

“I’d brought you books,” you said, pointing at the pile of books that had fallen to the floor when he pushed you into the hiding spot. 

“Would you read to me?”

The request was soft, almost hesitant, but you could see the faint hope in his eyes. 

“Of course,” you said, your voice gentle as you began to gather the books from the floor. You selected one that seemed lighthearted, its cover adorned with an intricate illustration that promised adventure and whimsy. You settled back onto the bed beside him, the book open in your lap.

Jacaerys shifted slightly, propping himself up with a few pillows to make himself more comfortable. 

The room seemed to grow quieter, the only sounds the gentle rustle of pages and your soothing voice. Jacaerys’ eyes, once shadowed with fatigue, now shone with a mixture of relief and contentment. He listened intently, his gaze fixed on you as if the story was a lifeline pulling him away from the distress of his injuries.

You paused occasionally, glancing up to see his reaction, and each time you were met with a smile or a look of fascination.

After a while, Jacaerys let out a contented sigh, his hand resting on the book as you reached a particularly gripping part of the story. 

He cleared his throat softly, a subtle gesture that drew your attention away from the book. His gaze was momentarily fixed on your face, as if seeking the right words amidst the shadows and flickering candlelight.

He paused, as if weighing his next words carefully. “There’s something I’d like to ask,” he said, his voice a soft murmur.

You felt a flutter of anticipation in your chest. “What is it?”

Jacaerys’ gaze fell to the book, then back to you. “Would you… kiss me?”

The request was almost shy, a contrast to the bold stories you’d been reading together. But there was something incredibly sincere in his tone, a plea for a simple yet profound gesture of closeness.

You didn’t hesitate. You set the book aside, letting it rest gently on the bed. You moved closer to him, your heart racing with a mix of tenderness and excitement. Jacaerys’ breath was warm against your cheek as you leaned in.

You pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek, the touch delicate and affectionate. His skin was warm and slightly rough from the healing, but there was a softness that spoke of his vulnerability. As your lips met his cheek, you felt him relax, a sigh of contentment escaping him.

When you pulled back, Jacaerys looked at you with a smile that was both grateful and serene. His eyes were bright, the earlier exhaustion giving way to a peaceful calm. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

For a few moments, there was only the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing and the occasional crackle of the candle flames. The evening outside continued its slow descent into night, the castle settling into a peaceful hush.

The sound of the doors opening eventually broke the silence, you almost jumped from the bed, the thought of being found in bed, unchaperoned, with Jace. 

Your heart leapt into your throat at the sound of the doors creaking open. Panic surged through you as you glanced quickly at Jacaerys, whose own eyes widened in alarm. You barely had time to react before the intruder – a young maid, her face flushed with the energy of youth – appeared in the doorway.

You froze, every muscle tensing as she looked around the room with wide, innocent eyes. The maid's gaze fell upon you and Jacaerys, sitting together on the bed. Her cheeks reddened slightly, a mix of surprise and embarrassment flickering across her face.

“I–I’m sorry, My Prince,” she stammered, her eyes darting between you and Jacaerys. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Jacaerys, still propped up on the pillows, cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. “It’s alright,” he said, his voice steady despite the situation. 

The maid took a step into the room, her gaze flickering nervously. “The maesters are looking for you, my prince. They’ve been rather anxious, and I’ve been sent to see if you made your way back to your chambers.”

You could sense Jacaerys’ frustration at the intrusion, though he managed to keep his demeanor calm. He looked at you, a silent plea for understanding in his eyes. You offered a reassuring nod, then moved to rise from the bed.

“I’ll go,” you said gently. “It’s best if I make my exit before things get more complicated.”

Jacaerys reached out, taking your hand with a brief but tender grip. “Thank you for being here,” he said softly, his eyes conveying the depth of his gratitude.

You smiled, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before reluctantly pulling away. “I’ll see you soon,” you promised.

—————

The days that followed your clandestine visit to Jacaerys were a blend of anticipation and reflection. The castle continued its relentless rhythm, but now, each echo and murmur seemed tinged with the memory of your hidden conversation. Jacaerys’ recovery was progressing, and the tension that had initially surrounded his confinement began to ease. The maesters, though still vigilant, were less inclined to hover, and the prince’s rooms were gradually returning to a semblance of normalcy.

You had kept your promise to Jacaerys, visiting him regularly. Each visit was a delicate balance of light-hearted storytelling and quiet companionship. 

Among the many who noticed the change was Baela. The shadows of the past days had given way to a hopeful light, and Baela could sense the shift. She had seen the glances exchanged, the shared smiles, and the subtle, unspoken understanding between you and Jacaerys. It was clear to her that something had deepened between you two, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness for her friend and his newfound joy.

Your months in Dragonstone, even while its halls were rumbling with conversations about the war, were a stark contrast to the familiar, yet isolating, walls of your own castle, where being the only girl and without siblings had left you feeling like a solitary figure amidst the vast expanse of family and duty.

After having spent every given moment with Baela and Rhaena, they had become your confidantes, your sisters of choice, each sharing in the trials and triumphs of your days with an openness that was both refreshing and comforting. And the enthusiasm for company of the small Joffrey made your heart ache with care.

Little Joffrey was fast asleep with his head on your lap, both of you sitting on the grass outside of the castle, under the dappled shade of an ancient oak.

Beside you, Baela and Rhaena lounged on a cloth spread out on the grass. They chatted animatedly, their voices a melodic blend of excitement and curiosity. Baela was gesticulating with animated gestures, her laughter bright. Rhaena smiled warmly, her gaze occasionally shifting to the slumbering Joffrey with an expression of affectionate amusement.

The halt of steps beside you made you look up, a small smile creeping to your face at the sight of your betrothed. 

Without a word, Jacaerys stopped by your side, his gaze flicking to Baela and Rhaena, who had paused in their conversation, their curiosity piqued by his arrival. His expression softened as he met your eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had grown between you.

He cleared his throat softly, a gesture that drew your attention. “Could I speak with you for a moment?” His tone was courteous yet carried an undertone of urgency that made you sit up slightly, careful not to disturb Joffrey’s slumber.

You nodded, glancing at Baela and Rhaena, who exchanged curious glances but remained silent, their interest evident. “Of course,” you said, rising gently and carefully lifting Joffrey to lay him down on one of the girls, ensuring he remained comfortable.

As you moved away from the blanket and the lively chatter, Jacaerys fell into step beside you. His presence was reassuring, though his demeanor was serious. He guided you a short distance away from the others, near a secluded spot where the oak's branches formed a natural canopy, providing a sense of privacy.

Once you were out of earshot, he stopped and turned to face you, his expression a mix of anticipation and something akin to nervousness. His hand moved to the small of your back.

“What is it?” you asked with a smile.

“I figured we could use a moment alone,”  Jacaerys' demeanor shifted subtly as he faced you, his eyes softening with warmth. A hint of a playful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He stepped closer, his hand still resting gently on the small of your back.

"Well," he began, his voice low and tinged with a hint of mischief, "I've been thinking about something for a while now." His gaze flickered briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again. 

He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. "I was hoping we might... continue where we left off the other day?" he murmured, his tone filled with gentle suggestion.

“Whatever do you mean?” 

Jacaerys' fingers traced a feather-light pattern on your back, sending a shiver down your spine. His other hand came up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, lingering there for a moment.

Jace smiled softly, his eyes twinkling with affection as he gazed at you. "You know what I mean," he said gently, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand moved from your hair to cup your cheek tenderly. “I have grown to care deeply for you. You cloud my judgment.”

With a gentle tilt of his head, Jacaerys closed the remaining distance between you. His lips met yours in a soft, sweet kiss. It was brief but filled with emotion – a tender expression of the growing bond between you. As he pulled back slightly, his eyes searched for yours, filled with hope and a question.

"Was that alright?" he whispered, his hand still cradling your cheek.

You felt a rush of warmth spreading through you, your heart beating a little faster. This moment, shared in the dappled shade of the ancient oak, felt like the beginning of something precious. The playful glint in Jacaerys' eyes mixed with genuine care, creating a connection that went beyond your formal betrothal.

In the distance, you could hear the muffled laughter of Baela and Rhaena, a reminder of the world beyond this intimate moment. But for now, wrapped in Jacaerys' gentle embrace, you allowed yourself to savor this new chapter in your relationship, full of promise and sweet beginnings.

taglist: @smurfelle @earth4angels @ @sillylittlepenguin181818 (taglist link is on pinned!)

[lysatoru]

jujutsu kaisen x bridgerton

which confession from the bridgerton’s universe would say jjk’s men to their future wife/wife?

ft. geto, gojo, megumi and yuji

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Geto Suguru being the king George, y’know, i really feel like what the king George said to queen Charlotte would be something Geto would say because of his mental issues. I think he’d rather suffer alone than talking to his issues to his wife not to worry her.

Suguru stands up, raises his voice and looks at you, "I’m a madman. I am a danger. In my mind, there are different worlds creeping in. The heavens and the Earth collide. I do not know where I am!"

you raise your voice back, your face is firm, your brows are furrowed, "Do you love me?"

he doesn’t respond to your question and continues to talk about his issue, "You do not wish a life with me for yourself" — he stops — "No one, wishes that".

that’s bullshit! your think to yourself, what the hell would he think that? "Suguru! I will stand with you between the heavens and the Earth. I will tell you where you are. Do you love me?"

shouts echo through the room, the argument keeps going, "I love you! from the mo—" he takes a deep breath "from the moment I saw you trying to go over the wall—" tears begin to form in his eyes "I have loved you desperately. I cannot breathe when you are not near. I love you, yn. My heart calls your name."

both of your breathing are synchronized, Suguru comes closer and kisses you, desperately.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Gojo Satoru being Anthony Bridgerton, i just know sooo well this man thinks he’s THE gentleman of the season, every seasons. I think he doesn’t want to find a wife since he’s the head of his family and he just does what he’s supposed to do but when he first saw you, an inner conflict began.

You’re both in the library, he really wants you to leave or he’s going to do something he’ll regret instantly. He hates you since the first time you met but he doesn’t know why. You just told him you’re leaving for your country and he can’t help but feels betrayed, sad and angry.

Satoru closes his book and looks at you firmly, "do you think there is a corner on this earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment?"

you look at him completely confused, what the hell is he talking about? you start talking but he cuts you off.

"I am a gentleman, my father raised me to act with honor but that honor is hanging on a thread that grows precarious with every moment I spend in your presence."

"Satoru I—" he comes closer and whispers to your hear "You are the bane of my existence and the object of all my desires. Night and day I dream of you."

You can’t even say a word. He steps back, takes a sip of his whisky "My mother is waiting for me" he quickly bows to you and leaves the room. You’re now all alone in the library thinking about what he just said to you.

Fushiguro Megumi being Simon Basset, i really think this man wants a partner who can be his bestfriend too, even though he never wanted to get married at first.

both of you are no standing in front of your majesty, wishing she’s going to accept your marriage. Megumi has always been a good man to you, but he never wanted to marry you, until that day. Today, you have to convince the queen to marry you.

"You see your Majesty, it was love at first sight—" you start but Megumi cuts you off, "It was not your Majesty" — he looks at you, and you just look completely stunned by his words — "the young lady flatters me, it was not love at first sight for either of us. There’s attraction certainly, at least on my part and Miss [last name] thought me presumptuous, arrogant, insincere, all fair really." — he pauses and breaths heavily, "And I thought her a prim young lady barely out of leading strings, not to mention the sister of my best friend and so romance was entirely out of the question for both of us but in so removing it, we found something far greater." — Megumi looks at you once again — "We found friendship." — The queen looks more interested now — "You see Miss [last name] and I have been fooling all of Shinjuku for quite some time, we have fooled them into thinking we are courting, and really all along, we simply enjoyed each other’s company so much, we could not stay away from one another—" you look at him, mesmerized by his words and presence in front of the queen. "I’ve never been a man that much enjoyed flirting or chatting or indeed talking at all, but with yn—" he clears his throat, "Miss [last name], conversation has always been easy, her laughter brings me joy. To meet a beautiful woman is one thing, but to meet your best friend and the most beautiful of women is something entirely apart…"

Everyone is looking at Megumi absolutely stunned by his confession. He really just said you two were fooling all of Shinjuku by pretending a future marriage?

You didn’t say anything and just keep listening to Megumi, excusing himself towards the queen and the prince.

When you go out from here you look at Megumi and ask him "Did a just say that to the Majesty for her to accept our marriage or—" he sighs, "I think all of what I said. I really think that."

Itadori Yuji being Collin Bridgerton, idk why but Yuji really gives ‘friends to lovers’ vibe and i’m HERE for it! I think this man doesn’t understand signals when someone likes him.

After helping you to find a man, Yuji starts feeling jealous of men trying to court you. When he saw you leaving the ball with your ripped dress, he couldn’t help but feel bad for you. He followed you to your coach and asked you to get on.

"Yuji, what are you doing here?" you ask him, this is definitely not why a gentleman he’s supposed to do, even though you two know each other since eight or nine.

He looks at you and starts telling you what’s in his mind. He talks rapidly because you’re going to you’ll soon reach your estate.

"I have spent so long trying to feel less, trying to be the kind of man society expects me to be. And for a moment, I thought I had succeeded. But these past few weeks have been full of confounding feelings." — he takes your hands in his — "Feeling like a total inability to stop thinking about you—" he looks at your lips, "about that kiss. Feelings like dreaming of you when I’m asleep, and in fact preferring sleep because that is where I might find you. A feeling that is like torture!" — he takes a deep breath — "But one which I cannot, will not, do not want to give up"

Tears start to roll down your cheeks, "please, do not say things you do not mean" — "I do mean it. It is everything I have wanted to say to you for weeks".

You’re now looking at each other. Yuji caresses your cheeks with his thumb and he finally kisses you. The kiss is delicate but rough at the same time. You wanted this for so long!

Once you arrive in front of the Itadori’s estate. He gets out of the coach and offers you his hand to get out too.

"Yuji?" — "Are you coming with me?" he smiles, "What? Your family will see me!" he comes closer, "For God’s sake, yn [last name], are you going to marry me or not?"

You take his hands and goes to his estate, with him.

i wanted to write this for soooo long!!! i had this idea with two of my friends @sunelia and @nycteis17 (look at her fanfiction of sukuna in ao3 : the irony of fate)

i put the one who have a netflix season because i didn’t read the books yet and i didn’t want to put fake things or whatever coming from the books.

i’m trying a new style of header, tell me if you prefer this one or not !!!

english isn’t my first language ;)

divider by : @saradika

[drvscarlett]

Sweet Nothings (3)

Carlos Sainz x Pageant Queen!Reader

Summary: All that they ever wanted was sweet nothings but everything changed like midnight rain.

Sweet Nothings 1 2 3 4

A/N: this the second to the last chapter. The last chapter would be in story format and a lil bit of smau. Let me know what you folks think about this one.

ChiliUpdates just posted a photo

ChiliUpdates Media day duties for Carlos in Vegas today!

User5 Goodluck on Vegas,get that WDC carlos

User6 VAMOS CARLOSSSSS

User7 look at him being so smiley

User16 im so happy to see Carlos smiling so much, he deserves happiness.

ChiliUpdates posted a reel

//We are ready to extend our lead for the championship. I have a very good feeling that with my skills, car, and some luck then we might be able to surpass Max before we race in Abu Dhabi. I'm really excited to drive this weekend.//

liked by YNjpeg and 600,552 others

User6 Never imagined we will be fighting for the WDC this year

User7 Im gonna go and pray for a Ferrari 1-2

User8 Carlos is really a driven man, respect!

User10 Carlos are you getting excited to drive this weekend because someone is also here in vegas 👀

QueenYNUpdates just posted a photo.

liked by CarlosSainz55 and 2,982 others.

QueenYNUpdates Her gown for the prelims and the swimsuit competition

User7 DUDE THE GOWN!!!

User8 THE SLO MO TURN, MISS MAAM???

User65 ate and left no crumbs, all the other contestants can go home

YNjpeg posted a photo.

Liked by CarlosSainz55, McLaren, and 987,562 others

YNjpeg this is what we called the Ibong Adarna dress. It is inspired by a Filipino mythological bird that has the ability to enchant anyone who hears it sing. Furthermore, the Ibong Adarna is also a phoenix that regenerates and rises from the ashes. The dress is a symbol of resilience, rising and rebirth 🧡

Thank you for the team for making this amazing craftmanship.

User8 The lore behind her dress??? NO ONE CAN TOP HER ATTENTION TO DETAILS

User9 everyone should do it like her

User10 she is SERVINGGG,MY MISS UNIVERSE 2024

McLaren our 🧡👑

User5 admin so real for this one User6 anyone wanna bet with me that this is Lando's doing? User20 the fact that she is still the papaya queen for mclaren is like how carlos is still an unofficial family of mclaren

CarlosY/NUpdates posted a photo.

CarlosY/NUpdates Carlos Sainz' face when someone showed him a photo of Y/N in her prelim gown.

User5 wtf,why did they have to show him that???

User1 right??? stop bringing her up. User3 Hi im the one that showed him that. I was watching miss universe while waiting for carlos to sign a cap. Carlos saw my screen and asked me if I could show him when Y/N is on the screen. He was in the middle of the interview when Y/N came up so I kind of screamed to show him. Im sorry if I made any trouble. User9 me reading this made me cry

User6 look at the man and tell me that he is not in love with her

User7 he never stopped loving her, thats my theory.

User8 Im gonna play Gracie Abrams all over again

User10 Carlos you might trick everyone but those eyes dont lie.

ChiliUpdates just posted a photo.

liked by YNjpeg and 3,234 others

ChiliUpdates Carlos Sainz wins the Las Vegas Grand Prix. He is now 4 points ahead of Max Verstappen and is currently P1 in the WDC.

User1 WOW CARLOS!! WE USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS

User2 THE NEXT FERRARI CHAMPION IS CARLOS. IM CALLING IT.

User3 Look at the pure glee on his face when he won. He deserves this so much

User4 Thats our smooothhh operatorrrrrr

User10 MISS MAAM YNjpeg what are you doing lurking here???

User11 isnt the miss universe starting in a few minutes??? User17 Y/N never beating the they are not yet over each other allegations

CarlosY/NUpdates just posted a photo.

CarlosY/NUpdates someone just saw Carlos outside the place for the Miss Universe!!!! They also reported Lando, Lewis, and Charles at the venue as well

User1 he is going to see Y/N! ITS HAPPENING!!!

User2 I love a supportive ex

User3 Y/N bringing out the whole grid to support her, its just so wholesome to think about

User7 They really went from racing suits to formal wear in an hour, Y/N's power over the grid User8 they really love her User9 especially Carlos. The man didn't celebrate and went to her right away User10 why did they ever break up?? they are so good with each other

User11 ugly crying

User12 I want a supportive ex boyfriend and a supportive friend group.

QueenY/NUpdates

liked by CarlosSainz55, LandoNorris, and 872,983 others

QueenY/NUpdates Take a look at the girl on fire! This is Y/N's evening gown, she is simply gorgeous in red!

User7 ugly crying, she is so beautiful

User55 WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THE DRESS BEING IN RED???

User9 its literally screaming carlos sainz User10 Y/N and Carlos's color is definitely red

User8 SHE DESERVES THE CROWN, GIVE IT TO HER ALREADY!!

User12 and the explanation how she paid homage to her mother's hometown??? SHE IS OUR QUEEN

User13 i love how her dresses has a certain piece of history

User14 i dont usually watch pageants and I got curious because an ex wag is here but MYGOD SHE IS STUNNING!!

User22 send everyone home, Y/N is taking the crown

LandoNorris posted a story

YNjpeg replied: im so so grateful for your love and support LandoNorris replied: so proud of you!!! You deserve the best YNjpeg replied: stop making me cry LandoNorris replied: Carlos cried a lot when they started crowning you. LandoNorris replied: he has to share his universe to the universe lol

CarlosSainz55 just posted a photo.

CarlosSainz55 When I tell you that you are beautiful, I am not simply talking about your looks. I talk about your eyes that shows compassion, your heart that is so generous, and your voice that speaks for those who cannot speak for themselves.

I am extremely proud of you YNjpeg. Everything was worth it.

YNjpeg I'm always grateful for your support.

CarlosSainz55 always here for you.

CarlosSainz55 limited comments to this post.

[pep-rambles]

Lucifer is a Swiftie headcanons because I kin this man so much I am projecting my other hyperfixations on him

But also I mean c'mon,

Look at him

yes there is RadioApple in this

-It probably started from Charlie. When she was in high school (post emo phase obviously) she may have enjoyed Taylor Swift (maybe Fearless got her through her senior year because I can't stop projecting) Lucifer started listening to try and have something to bond with his daughter about. But about the time Charlie kind of lost interest is about the time Lucifer doubled down on his obsession.

-He has been to basically almost every Eras concert, usually in really good seats because many a swiftie has offered to sell their soul for tickets. He said keep your soul just let him tag along.

-He is definitely an Evermore stan mostly because of relating too hard to the divorce narrative of it.

-Speaking of, Charlie has threatened to lock him out of his Spotify after catching him on the floor crying to “Champaign Problems” on repeat too many times. She never would but most definitely tried to ban him from listening to it for a month.

-She then caught him crying to “You’re Loosing Me”

-Angel Dust is most definitely  Beyhive (killer bee probably) and though initially joking that they are rivals the two men bond over their love for the two queens of pop, recommending songs and videos to each other.

-Angel is a Reputation Stan though 

-After one of Lucifer’s many tiffs with Alastor,  Charlie is expressing her frustration asking her dad why can’t they just get along and Lucifer explains that he doesn’t trust Alastor because “I think his ever-present grin is a little troubling” and is a little upset when she doesn’t get it 

-One day, Luci is sitting in the Lobby doing his work while listening to Taylor on shuffle. He’s casually minding his own business jamming out to one of her poppier love songs and Alastor wanders in commenting on the “Obnoxious trite little diddy” Lucifer doesn't even hesitate to take the bait

L: HOW DARE YOU! SHE IS A TALENTED GODDESS!! A DOWNRIGHT MUSICAL CHAMELEON! You are such a snob Alastor! Good music didn't stop getting made after your tiny little lifetime.

A: I never said it did but it's certainly not this frivolous noise!

L: Oh, you uninformed uncultured cur! She is a fucking poet!

He then proceeds to play examples for Alastor of her most creative and heart wrenching lyrics (he absolutely makes Al sit through all 10 minutes and 13 seconds of ATW) 

After all that though Lucifer will never get Alastor to admit that he finds T.S. musically talented (or that Lucifer did in fact catch Al tapping his foot a couple times)

        -Alastor does come to Lucifer, after a bit of research, admitting that though he does not find her music enjoyable, he respects her business cunning. Luci figures that's good enough. For now. 

-because I bet my non-existent Eras tour tickets that Lilith was a hater. I’ll leave it at that.

-OP works at Barnes & Noble and let me tell you there are about 80 different Taylor Swift magazines that even my swiftie ass thinks is excessive but Lucifer has every single one

-including the Taylor Swift paper dolls magazine (yes this is a real thing). He probably gets a few because he convinces Charlie to use them as a team building activity.

-He has at least 3 copies of each of the covers for the 2023 TIME Person of the Year magazine. 

-Also all cardigans. On a casual day he definitely lounges in them and has a set rotation of when to wear each one (and I am totally not gonna draw that nope)

-Well, it seems Lucifer is no longer crying to the depressing break-up songs on repeat but now he seems to be angrily listening to “Gorgeous” on repeat. Charlie asks him about it and he goes full denial mode “No no Charlie I'm not thinking of anyone specific, I've just been really into this song lately.” Everyone else in the hotel, besides Alastor, has already figured out what's going on

Alastor: If I have to hear that obnoxious noise one more time I will reduce that tiny maniac’s room to rubble as well as the abode of whatever sad sack is making him play it.

Angel: *knowing smirk* I'm gonna hold ya to that one, Antlers. 

-Al may very well hear it one more time if Lucifer uses it as his confession song (I don't fully commit to this headcanon, I just think it's funny) 

-Anyway boy’s probably in his Reputation stan Era b/c LWYMMD is like his long overdue big F-YOU to Heaven song 

btw this is NOT gonna end at these headcanons I am running with this idea like scissors.

@nunalastor

@julsiemagne

@nose-nippin-fun (I know you're not a swiftie but we talked about this so idk if you care I can un-tag you if you want)

[powdermelonkeg]

On the ancient Hyrulean stone tablets

In Tears of the Kingdom, there's a sidequest you get relatively early called Messages from an Ancient Era, in which you are tasked with finding stone tablets hidden throughout Hyrule that contain Zonai-era first-hand accounts of the royal family. There are 13 in total to locate.

You yourself can't read them, and must take pictures of the tablets to take them to Wortsworth, a Zonai Survey Team historian who can read the ancient texts for you.

The problem with this is that he doesn't tell you what the tablets actually say; he reads their ancient Hyrulean as-is, then gives his own take. And it's a take which cuts out so much context from the original text.

Fortunately, I am a nerd.

Unnamed First Tablet

The ancient Hyrulean:

"Ones held y honore als hochmayde to kyng Rauru ond quen Sonia, thaerafter to his suster ond to princesse Zelda. "Her on thaes gret stan ond twelf mo withalle make y endite min time with the hyred roial. "So michte heore remembraunce preserven for the sake of him on whom oure hope raeste."

What Wortsworth tells you:

"It's short, but it's an introduction from a servant to Rauru and Sonia, the founding king and queen of Hyrule. "She also waited on the king's elder sister, Mineru, as well as someone named Zelda, and wrote of their daily lives in 13 tablets. "It couldn't be simpler! "I intend to more thoroughly research what this chamberlain hoped to convey in these ancient tablets."

The actual translation:

"Once held I honor as handmaid to king Rauru and queen Sonia, thereafter to his sister and to princess Zelda. "Here on this great stone and twelve more withall make I ending my time with the hired royal. "So might here remembrance preserve for the sake of him on whom our hope rests."

Account of a Celebration

The ancient Hyrulean:

"So swete the song of kyng Rauru, ond so grete the beaute of his susteres daunce, that wer min eies ond eres captif. "Ond so hende quen Sonias gasen on us alle, so felt y min herte als captif fallen. "Seruantes lyf, tho moche laboursum, han moche jolitee as welle. Longe be the lyf of the roial familie thaere y love so."

What Wortsworth tells you:

"This is an account of a party from those days. "It says King Rauru and his older sister sang and danced together while Queen Sonia looked on. "We think of royalty as austere and reserved, but these nobles amused themselves with song and dance. "But what a vivid recounting of a scene never before related in any history book… "The descriptions of their personalities and expressions make the ancient past feel alive again. "This stone tablet is a first-class find. Well done, dear chamberlain, in leaving behind this account for us. "I'm positively beside myself to think of how this story from the ancient past persevered so long to reach us today."

The actual translation:

"So sweet the song of king Rauru, and so great the beauty of his sister's dance, that were mine eyes and ears captive. "And so had queen Sonia's gaze on us all, so felt I mine heart also captive fallen. "Servant's life, though much laboursome, have much jollity as well. Long be the life of the royal family there I love so."

The Strong Queen and the Receptive King

The ancient Hyrulean:

"Sonia, quen to Hyrules kyng, bi birthe Hylian preesterresse, hirself yborn of londe, nat of skie aboven. "Speken she with open herte, eornest to alle, euen even to the Zonais kyng. "This kyng ythinke it gode aventure so to lerne of the londes folke. To sen his hed ybent to listenen is swich plesaunce."

What Wortsworth tells you:

"This one looks to be about Queen Sonia. It claims that Sonia was a priestess before marrying Rauru. "Despite his status as a Zonai, a people popularly thought to be gods, she would counsel him without any trepidation. "Moreover, Rauru heeded this counsel. "This account gives us firsthand knowledge of the nature of Queen Sonia and King Rauru's relationship. "Rauru found himself unexpectedly charmed by her strong will, and before long, they were married… "Er, that last bit isn't in the text. That's me speculating. "History rarely speaks of a person's character prior to being elevated to royalty. So I can't help but fantasize."

The actual translation:

"Sonia, queen to Hyrule's king, by birth Hylian priestess, herself born of land, not of sky above. "Speak she with open heart, earnest to all, even even[sic] to the Zonai's king. "This king thinks it a good adventure so to learn of the land's folk. To seen his head bent to listening is such pleasure."

The Harmonious Couple

The ancient Hyrulean:

"Oft wys Rauru, kyng of kene blade, weyve his werk real in faver of the hunte. "Ond oft queynt Sonia, quene of kene insight, seke out him and repaire this kyng to kyngly besynesse. "In hir sapience semes she divin, that she cunne him ever finde and for hes folly semes him the mor humain. "Ond the kyng? O, he laughe. Nat him hir equal for hir wit, he kunne. Ond the quen, she laughe to, als even she scolden."

What Wortsworth tells you:

"This is a tale of King Rauru. "Apparently, he would vacate his official business from time to time in order to go out hunting. "I had the impression he was a stricter, more serious king, but I guess he had a lighter side as well. "However, Queen Sonia was always a step ahead. She would put a stop to King Rauru's hunts and bring him back. "We rarely get a glimpse into the down-to-earth side of royalty in this way. It's an important find, to be sure."

The actual translation:

"Oft was Rauru, king of keen blade, leave his work real in favor of the hunt. "And oft quaint Sonia, queen of keen insight, seek out him and repair this king to kingly business. "In her sapience seems she divine, that she can him ever find and for his folly seems him the more human. "And the king? Oh, he laughs. Not him her equal for her wit, he knows. And the queen, she laughs too, as even she scolds."

A Pilgrimage of Light

The ancient Hyrulean:

"The kyng was late y-come this aven, so maked the quene to sharen tales of hir lond, of shirines al grene yglouen. "Of erli daies sinnes Hyrules funding have diverse monstres hir reaume biseged ond assaylled. "Uncesinge in striffe, thei broughte to despeir folkes lyfen. Kyng ond quen ysete thamselue to bringen scurge to ende. "With might of light ond pouere, driven abak ybeen, ond the roial couple made thes shirines to selen him awei. "Thes holi selen ben yclept Shirines of Light. "Gret kyng, grete quen, y thank ye. Ye foughte whan y wer maiden-child, that y kude pes toknouen."

What Wortsworth tells you:

"The subject here is the actions King Rauru and Queen Sonia undertook not long after Hyrule's founding. "With the kingdom established, they were worried for their people, so they set out to eradicate the monsters troubling them. "They created structures called Shrines of Light to seal the monsters away so that they could never be revived. "There's more here about light…and time too… The sense I get is that the two of them may have had supernatural powers. "Though it's part of ancient history, it's a feat those of us living today should still be grateful for. Truly an important discovery."

The actual translation:

"The king was late to come this evening, so made the queen to share tales of her land, of shrines all green glowing. "Of early days since Hyrule's founding have diverse monsters her realm besieged and assailed. "Unceasing in strife, they brought to despair folks' lives. King and queen set themselves to bringing scourge to end. "With might of light and power, driven aback they been, and the royal couple made these shrines to seal him away. "These holy seals been called Shrines of Light. "Great king, great queen, I thank you. You fought when you were maiden-child, that I could peace to know."

The Researcher Mineru

The ancient Hyrulean:

"Queynte Mineru, the kynges elder suster, falles so dep in hir bokes swich that she oft foryetes to eten. "In min wieried wei don y what much y con, but y fer haven that it ben litel avail. "Of late treteth she of 'constructes,' thinges did she make with her hondes as vessel for spirit whan bodi-lich failen. "So, seyde she, might she liven longe, in spiret yhused within this 'construct.' "Though Mineru ne semes to holden ani deceyte… Bi my feith, y kan nat als trouthe thes wordes bileven"

What Wortsworth tells you:

"Here, we learn a bit about Mineru. "It says that she neglected to eat or sleep while making something called a…construct? "It was part of her research into a means of returning to life as a spirit possessing a new body, should her original one die. "To you or I, this sounds less like history and more like some sort of ghost story. "But remember who we're dealing with. They may have had unfathomable powers that made such things possible. "The revelation that Mineru was a fellow researcher makes her feel like a kindred spirit to me, and yet… "The chamberlain who inscribed these tablets treats Mineru with such care and kindness that it warms my heart."

The actual translation:

"Quaint Mineru, the king's elder sister, falls so deep in her books such that she oft forgets to eat. "In my worried way do I what much I can, but I fear have that it be little avail. "Of late treats she of 'constructs,' things did she make with her hands as vessel for spirit when body lies fallen. "So, said she, might she live long, in spirit housed within this 'construct.' "Though Mineru nay seems to hold any deceit… By my faith, I can not also truth these words believe."

The Foreign Princess

The ancient Hyrulean:

"Ful fyn is the weder this morn, ond have y audience with theos princes seyd ben kin bi fer distaunt yeres to quene Sonia. "Bi gras has she been given a name most swete, of Zelda she ben yclept. "In certain folk stered suspecioun, for straunge wer hir garnementes ond sodein wer her aparaunce. "Yet wolde hir contenonce ond bering maked proof of hir right blod and bond to quene Sonia. "Als be Zelda to remainen for a wile with us, y wil mi-self als hochmayde offre ekein hir servis."

What Wortsworth tells you:

"This is another fascinating entry. "If my translation is correct, the Zelda described here is Sonia's distant relative. "According to this, she arrived in Hyrule unexpectedly from another kingdom. It seems she was a beautiful princess. "Her strange clothing perplexed the people of Hyrule, and many were suspicious of her at first. "But this Zelda had such an undeniable air of nobility that those who doubted she was of royal birth were soon silenced. "Note how clearly this conveys the writer's feelings regarding Zelda. "Once it was clear Zelda would be staying, she applied to be chamberlain to the princess. That suggests real admiration."

The actual translation:

"Full fine is the weather this morning, and have I audience with this princess said be kin by for distant years to queen Sonia. "By grace has she been given a name most sweet, of Zelda she been called. "In certain folk stirred suspicion, for strange were her garments and sudden were her appearance. "Yet would her countenance and bearing make proof of her right blood and bond to queen Sonia. "As be Zelda to remain for a while with us, I will myself as handmaid offer asking her service."

The Free-Spirited Zelda

The ancient Hyrulean:

"Princesse Zelda recent comes to sen Mineru, the kynges elder suster. I com eck, for hir to seruen. "Todai cam hit ipassen that Mineru sheued to Zelda construct althergrettest y hav ysen. "Zelda, she much desired on hit to riden, ond ne conne nat y seien coust hir stoppen. Though I dyde protesten. Loudli. "Neuer the lesse she made to sitten heighe upon the constructes sculdres ond to riden like an hors, al ful of grace. "Min lausion, so graunt alredy, dyde grouen al the mor."

What Wortsworth tells you:

"The subject here is Zelda and Mineru. "Zelda apparently visited Mineru often to assist with her research. "I have no idea what kind of thing this 'construct' that allowed people to ride on it was. "But Zelda rode it so well that our author the chamberlain was again impressed by her skill at everything she tried. "That's the long and short of it here. "But more than the narrative, what strikes me is the back and forth between the chamberlain and Zelda. "The chamberlain tried to warn Zelda of the danger, but Zelda pushed past her and rode the construct anyway. 'It's short but so evocative of both the level of technology found in this era and the character of their visitor Zelda. "The 'treasure' found in these stone tablets is the pearls of wisdom and nuggets of personality contained within."

The actual translation:

"Princess Zelda recent comes to see Mineru, the king's elder sister. I come with¹, for her to serve. "Today came it pass that Mineru showed to Zelda construct of the greatest I have seen. "Zelda, she much desired on it to ride, and nay could not I say cause her stop. Though I did protest. Loudly. "Never the less she made to sit high upon the construct's shoulders and to ride like a horse, all full of grace. "My laudation², so great already, did grow all the more."

The Latest Trend

The ancient Hyrulean:

"Facioun nou favereth garnementes adourned with muscheron patrons, ond fer ond wid beon thei wern. "This tast for mucheeron com of the casteles seamestre, who sogte to seuen clethes for princesse Zelda to plesen. "This facioun, Zelda telled to the seamestre, waere in hir treu hom wel loved. "In hir tim werd everichon patrons of bright hewes, in the shap of mucheron. "Anou our hende semestre set herte on thes patrons copien, which sele to mani happi persoune. "Y seche after som for min one but ne coude nat an on yfenden."

What Wortsworth tells you:

"Here we learn something about the fashion trends of that era. "The story's catalyst is their Zelda telling a tailor about the mushroom-patterned outfits becoming popular in her homeland. "Intrigued, the tailor fashioned some clothing in that vein, and it caught on in ancient Hyrule. "Do you know Cece from Hateno Village? Imagine the look on her face if she were to find out! "They say that trends go in cycles, but… I didn't expect mushroom patterns to have been in fashion so long ago! "One last thing about the chamberlain… "Her interest in fashion shows there was more to her than devoted service. She was just like anyone else in the kingdom."

The actual translation:

"Fashion now favors garments adorned with mushroom patterns, and far and wide be they worn. "This taste for mushroom come of the castle's seamstress, who sought to sew clothes for the princess Zelda to please. "This fashion, Zelda told to the seamstress, were in her true home well loved. "In her time were everywhere patterns of bright hues, in the shape of mushroom. "And now our head seamstress set heart on these patterns copied, which sell to many happy persons. "I seek after some for my own but nay could not a one find."

An Ancient Ghost Story

The ancient Hyrulean:

"Of late have y herd it told a straunge ladi walkes around the castel in derk of night. "She ond princesse Zelda semes als twinnes two, but this on nadda ne light in hir eien—mor als a ded thing than not. "When she is asked about thes walkes, princesse Zelda of that ben no-thing remembren. "What monstre, or spirit of derknesse, be this visioun? So afeard y am of min imagenninges that y con nat slepen."

What Wortsworth tells you:

"This one is an ancient ghost story. "My understanding of ancient Hyrulean isn't perfect, but I know a ghost story when I see one. "It's a firsthand account of a ghostly or maybe corpse-like woman who appeared each night looking just like their Zelda. "No matter the era, it seems, people can't resist sharing a good ghost story. "A bit like how there have been eyewitness accounts of our Princess Zelda in the newspaper, even though she's missing… "Could our Zelda be a ghost too? No…of course not."

The actual translation:

"Of late have I heard it told a strange lady walks around the castle in dark of night. "She and princess Zelda seem as twins two, but this one has no light in her eyes—more as a dead thing than not. "When she is asked about these walks, princess Zelda of that been nothing remembered. "What monster, or spirit of darkness, be this vision? So afraid I am of my imaginings that I cannot sleep."

For the Hero's Sake

The ancient Hyrulean:

"Sith hire founding has Hyrule swich hardshippe ysene, but that is onli smale moment of time. "Mineru, the kynges elder suster, seyes of this kyngdom that hit ne mot nat awaren aye be ycaccht, nat evenforth fer futur. "Princesse Zelda tells hire that this futur be wrat alredi, that a champioun bith from the skie comen. "Bitwene the two, thei imaked to finden a wei this champioun in that distaunt time to ohelpen. "Her min treuthe, sogte thei to up-reisen the Temple of Time, into the skie to warden hit onyenes ivil. "Al dyden so in fer distaunt dai, our kingdom mighte be safed. "In min herte y woot y helpen mot, ond y asked of Mineru, canst yow devyse the menes to upreisen in the skie thaes stane. "Min wordes iseie nat enow, but thei thaes memorie safen, of the roial familie, heigh in the skie for that future time."

What Wortsworth tells you:

"That one is all about the feats that Zelda performed for the sake of the hero. "The details are unclear, but essentially, the chamberlain trusted in Mineru and Zelda's predictions and wanted to help. "She put forth the suggestion to Mineru to build a mechanism that could make her stone tablets float in the sky. "Which I take it are the very tablets you found, Link? But it doesn't end there. "If my translation is correct, it suggests that their Zelda worked with Mineru to raise the Temple of Time into the sky! "The idea of the Temple of Time—a grand edifice built in that ancient era—being lifted to the skies to await a hero… "Although given the appearaance of the sky islands after the Upheaval, perhaps it's not so far-fetched as it seems. "What must it have been like for the chamberlain to live through such miraculous times?"

The actual translation:

"Since her founding has Hyrule such hardship seen, but that is only small moment of time. "Mineru, the king's elder sister, says of this kingdom that it nay may not aware it be caught, not even for the far future. "Princess Zelda tells her that this future be wrought already, that a champion be from the sky comes. "Between the two, they made to find a way this champion in that distant time to help. "Her my truth, sought they to up-risen the Temple of Time, into the sky to ward it against evil. "All done so in far distant day, our kingdom might be saved. "In my heart I want to help more, and I asked of Mineru, can you devise the means to uprisen in the sky these stones. "My words I see not now, but they these memories safe, of the royal family, high in the sky for that future time."

The Day the Land Rose

The ancient Hyrulean:

"Swich wondrous sight y hav bihelden that ne con hit nat justil be described. "The Temple of Time y sawe, ond al londe yheld it, reisen to the skie, both ferful ond majestatic. "As princesse Zelda itold mi, in fer distaunt future comes a champioun to that place, the hope that Hyrule safen. "For that champioun be hit that y thes grete stane inscriben. "The kynges elder suster, Mineru, sendes nou thes stane to the skie, that the champioun mought hem ireden."

What Wortsworth tells you:

"This is an eyewitness account of the day the Temple of Time floated into the sky. "It's a landmark discovery for the history of Hyrule. It may be one of the top 10 most important discoveries of all time! "Even among all the breathtaking displays of power we knew of from the era, to raise the land and its buildings into the sky… "That was a feat impressive even to those accustomed to wonders. You can tell as much from this account. "Zelda predicted that a hero would appear in the land they raised into the sky and that he would save Hyrule. "The chamberlain took this on faith and wanted to know how she could help. "So she inscribed these records on the stone tablets that Mineru sent into the sky. "Give me a moment. I need to view these accounts as a historian and not get so swept up in personal sentiments…"

The actual translation:

"Such wonderous sight I have beheld that nay can it not just be described. "The Temple of Time I saw, and all land held it, risen to the sky, both fearful and majestic. "As princess Zelda told me, in far distant future comes a champion to that place, the hope that Hyrule is safe. "For that champion be it that I these great stones inscribe. "The king's elder sister, Mineru, sends now these stones to the sky, that the champion might him read."

A Parting Resolve

The ancient Hyrulean:

"Rauru, Hyrules kyng. Sonia, hir quen. His elder suster, Mineru. Ond eek princesse Zelda. "Al whom y served, ond loved. Al whom thurghhon. Alon kerv y thes wordes upon this stan. "This stan, ond al thritene, serven als roial families recorde, min werk final, ful-wroht for al age. "Mani the mark made bi thes much biloved peples—som eth-sene, som unsene. "Whan y make remembraunce of hir markes, fele y flaume of hope, though ful small, within mi. "Hit be als though thes markes som graunt design describen. "I ne con nat met princesse Zelda hir lov for hir londe. What mor than, ask y, can y do for Hyrules peples. "Let min lyf lede mi fro hennes-forth an answere ful-worthi to this questioun."

What Wortsworth tells you:

"It seems this is the last of the records. "The royals whom the chamberlain served so faithfully were gone, one by one… "It's heartrending to read. Her pain comes across so clearly in her words. "What's less clear from these entries is the cause of all these partings… "Well, each new mystery is an opportunity to do more research. If I keep digging, someday I'll unravel it."

The actual translation:

"Rauru, Hyrule's king. Sonia, her queen. His elder sister, Mineru. And the princess Zelda. "All whom I served, and loved. All whom they're gone. Alone carve I these words upon this stone. "This stone, and all thirteen, serve as royal family's record, my work final, full-wrought for all ages. "Many the mark made by these much beloved peoples—some as seen, some unseen. "When I make remembrance of her marks, feel I a flame of hope, though full small, within me. "It be as though these mark some grand design described. "I nay can not meet princess Zelda her love for her land. What more than, ask I, can I do for Hyrule's peoples. "Let my life lead me for hence-forth an answer full-worthy to this question."

And that is all thirteen slabs translated.

¹ "Eck" has no apparent equivalent, but can be guessed to mean "with" from context.

² "Laudation" might not be correct; failing to translate "lausion" in English, I turned my switch to French mode, and the word that took its place was "admiration." "Laudation" was the closest related word with similar letters.

[the-californicationist]

Guile & Guilt (Ch. 06)

Johnny texts you while he's deployed, but when he calls you one night, you are forced to face your consequences.

MDNI/18+

Link to AO3

OCTOBER, MONDAY MORNING, TWO WEEKS LATER

Your apartment was bathed in the cold gray light of a foggy morning, and you curled your duvet closer around you trying to stave off the dawn’s chill. You’d been awake for a while, which was very uncharacteristic of you. Usually more of a late riser, the only reason for your early bird behavior was Johnny MacTavish. 

He was three hours ahead of you, and every morning, when the sun came up in the Urzikstani hillside, you were sent an image of Johnny’s hand, clutching whatever his breakfast was that day. Sometimes it was a tin cup of black coffee, other times you’d get a banana or a protein bar. But, it was always his giant hand and a sherbet orange sky. This morning, it was cloudy and dark, and his breakfast of choice was a slab of toast, smeared with butter and jam. 

MoChroi: sunrise_sand.jpg

You: wow. quite the delicacy today. cant believe you found actual jam out there

Mo Chroi: bit suspicious. when the food gets better the missions get worse

You: uh oh

Mo Chroi: dinnae fash thief xx

Mo Chroi: writing today?

You: yep. and meeting with my prof

Mo Chroi: what ya got on then

Mo Chroi: give us a show bonnie

Mo Chroi: is it naughty?? lol

You: nope

You: rangers_tee.jpg

You sent a photo of your torso, cutting out your head, wearing his own tee shirt. His typing bubbles percolated along the bottom of the screen immediately. Then, an indignant response:

Mo Chroi: thief!! xx

You: youre the one who stole my hair tie

Mo Chroi: hairtie.jpg

Mo Chroi: needed a hostage

Mo Chroi: your bad habits are rubbin off. stole cap’s clothes out of the shower this morning

Mo Chroi: price_hat.jpg

You: you learn quick mo chroi

His typing bubbles appeared, and then they disappeared. You watched them pop up in the chat and then vanish three more times until finally all you got was silence. This was a common occurrence, so you tried not to overthink it. Over the past two weeks of texting with him, you knew he disappeared sometimes. He’d get a call to go into the field, or there would be some crisis. You wondered if his captain had discovered his prank. 

The room was still cold, and you were reluctant to leave your cocoon of warmth, but you needed to write. You had promised yourself that you’d go into the office early today before your meeting with your major professor. After a deep sigh and some very challenging mental gymnastics, you stuck a leg out and onto the frigid concrete floor.

Your apartment was very modern. So modern, in fact, that it had been a challenge to make it feel homey. There was very little room inside for anything more than a queen bed, a short futon, and your desk. Your bathroom was sleek and full of brutalist, functional, concrete stylings, but the kitchen was barely big enough for a sink and a toaster oven. You had kept the futon for guests, not that you had many (any) visitors, but aside from the stacks of books in the corners of each room, your entire studio was practical to a fault. 

But, it was enough for you and your rescue cat, Marlowe, so you didn’t complain.

On the wall opposite the front door, a huge plexiglass window overlooked the River Kelvin, conveniently situated right across from some student housing so you could access the bus. Not having a car went against your Floridian roots, but you’d fallen in love with the ease of public transportation. 

After throwing on an oversized sweater and a pair of fleece-lined leggings, you slipped on your wellies and headed to the bus stop. You’d brought a big thermos of coffee, ready to face the day. 

Your phone buzzed again.

Pidge: I’m so excited to see you this weekend!! :D

You: me too! is hammie picking me up after all or no

Pidge: Yes, I told him to be at the platform at 4.

You: cool 

Pidge: Have you spoken with my brother?

You paused for a moment, riding the elevator and staring at your phone. You didn’t want to lie to her, but you probably shouldn’t tell her the truth. The truth was that you’d been texting her brother every day since he left for leave. You went with a half-truth instead:

You: yeah a few times why

She did not respond. You waited for the other shoe to drop like a blindfolded prisoner waits for their firing squad. The bus came to your stop, and you climbed on, sitting on the carpeted seat closest to the door, knowing your stop was only three away. 

When you got to your office, your phone buzzed again. You set your bag and your coffee down before you even looked at it, avoiding touching your cell as if it had thorns. 

You flipped over the screen.

Mo Chroi: make it to the office?

You: office.jpg

Mo Chroi: have a good day today thief

Mo Chroi: helicopter1.jpg

Mo Chroi: going on a wee trip. afk xx

You: promise xx

Mo Chroi: promise xx

Promise. Promise. It was you and Johnny’s little code. You hadn’t liked hearing about his “little trips” in the beginning, especially after he had shown you a photo of his truck, riddled with bullet holes. You used to say “good luck”, but you didn’t like that sound of that. You hoped luck had nothing to do with it. So, you just asked him to promise to text you back or to promise to be safe. And he always replied that he promised he would. Now, it had shortened to your one-word ritual. You always said it and he always said it back. 

Another buzz:

Pidge: No reason. He has my phone charge the little nugget.

You: omg lol 

You were not laughing out loud. If anything, you were sighing in relief. 

It took most of the morning, but you fell into a routine. You had your meeting, came back, and wrote some more. Lunch was a pre-packaged lunch box from the student center and a refill on your coffee. You missed dinner. The sun set on you as you finished a critical section of your thesis, looking it over for flow and mistakes. 

Worn out, and finally feeling hungry again, you checked your phone on your way back to the bus stop. No new messages. You waited for the bus, flipping through his photos again as if you would have forgotten them from when you looked at them from last night. Or the night before last. 

You stopped looking at them, challenging yourself to have a non-Johnny thought in your head for once.

Maybe you would make a ramen with eggs in it tonight. 

Maybe he’ll text you back. 

You could watch another episode of that K-drama you liked. 

Maybe he’ll send you a picture of him shirtless.

You could go for a run.

Maybe he will run his tongue back over your —

The bus came. You blocked out your thoughts from your mind, desperate to regain some semblance of control. 

THURSDAY NIGHT

It had been three days, and you still hadn’t heard from him. You tried not to think about all of the terrible reasons why that might be the case. But, you did. You thought about them all the time. Every time you checked your phone or read an email or scrolled through your feeds; it was the only thing you thought about. 

You had his shirt on again, eating leftover Chinese on your futon. You were thinking about all of the things you needed to take care of before tomorrow. It was Pidge’s bridal shower weekend and you were trying to wrangle all the final touches together. You’d rented out Ettrick’s, at Pidge’s request, and you had sent the invites two weeks ago. Almost everyone had RSVP’d yes, so you were looking at nearly 45 people to host. The custom bridal cookies were set for pick up when Hamish took you into town tomorrow afternoon, and the champagne was paid for. And you were dreading it. 

You were excited to be there for Brigette. She had always been there for you. When you first moved to Scotland, you were well and truly alone. But, she met you for lunch almost every day after class, claiming to need her caffeine fix. But, as time went on, you realized she wanted to be friends. Having no one and being in a new country was so tough, but she had made it feel so easy. So, even though you hated the prim and proper social situation of a shower, you resolved to tough it out. 

You put the half-eaten Chinese back in the fridge and climbed into bed. Your phone buzzed as you went to put it on the charger.

Mo Chroi: you up?

Your heart stopped for a moment, making your breath hitch in your chest. You fumbled with your phone, rushing to open his message.

Mo Chroi: camels.jpg

You: omg! are those REAL

You: shes not a camel but ill trade you one critter pic for a Marlowe pic

You: marlowethecat.jpg

Mo Chroi: her cheeks are brilliant lol so big

You: so your mission went okay?

Mo Chroi: lol yeah. and we got the guy who owned the camels to take a cool pic of us. can you tell which one’s me?

Mo Chroi: group_pic.jpg

You: gotta be number 3

Mo Chroi: how’d you know

You: your wide shoulders. and you always stand like that

Mo Chroi: like my shoulders do you

You: yep 

You: you should send me a selfie

There was a long pause. You were a little afraid that you’d overstepped a boundary. Sure, his long, hungry tongue had been buried between your legs three weeks ago, eating you like he was starving, but people were cagey about their online privacy. You backtracked:

You: if you want to. nbd if not

Mo Chroi: selfie.jpg

You checked the image, and your heart sank like a stone. Johnny wore a green and yellow bruise over his eye, and his head had been shaved.

You: you okay? bruise looks nasty

Mo Chroi: you should see the other lad

You: and they shaved you?

Mo Chroi: got a nasty wee cut on the back of my head and doc sheared me like a damn sheep

He sent you a series of frowny faces and sheep emojis, and you felt a wave of calm settle in your chest. The latent fear was still there, and would be until you saw him again, but it was good to know he was alright. 

FRIDAY MORNING

You were back on the bus, toting around your overnight bag, planning on heading to the train straight after your colloquium lecture this afternoon. Your phone had been beeping at you all morning. Johnny was begging for you to record your talk, asking you to let him sit in on your “class”. 

You: johnny its not a class! its just a lecture. we have to give them every now and then to show what we’ve been doing with our research. its not fun. you’d be bored.

Mo Chroi: meirleach! i dinnae care how fun it is. let me see!!

You: campus.jpg

You: look. its all stuffy and campusy. you wouldnt like it

Mo Chroi: youre breaking my heart lass xx

You smiled. He was so bright, and he made you feel like you were so very special. It was no wonder he was such a danger to single women everywhere. Your confidence was soaring.

When you made it to your office, you sent him another picture of your current work. You were writing a short paper on German poems, not really related to your thesis, for a conference coming up in the spring.

You: look. you dont even speak german! it would be like torture

You: german_poem.jpg   

Mo Chroi: so cool. im beggin you. let me watch you. i won’t say a word. 

You: maybe if you come back a little early from leave next time, you can sneak into one

Mo Chroi: if i survive this training, i will. 

Mo Chroi: thinking about seeing you up there teaching. got me all turned on

You sent him an emoji with a shocked look on its face, feigning coy shyness. He was relentless.

Mo Chroi: think youd let me be teachers pet?

You: more like class clown

Mo Chroi: you did seem fond of all of my tricks. wanna see what else i can do?

You: lecture_hall.jpg

You: i have to prep for this talk. keep your naughty thoughts to yourself soldier

Mo Chroi: yes maam 

Mo Chroi: wait!

You: what

Mo Chroi: before you go. what color knickers are you in

Mo Chroi: just trying to imagine your lecture 

Mo Chroi: with accuracy

Mo Chroi: cmon lass. for extra credit

You smiled down at your phone again, knowing your answer was going to win this little back and forth game he was playing.

You: im not wearing any this morning. gonna do my washing at your place.

Mo Chroi: jesus mary and joseph

You: and all the saints?

Mo Chroi: every one of them xx

Your lecture went off without a hitch. You earned yourself a few crowd questions and a round of polite applause. Stopping back by your office on the way out, you grabbed your laptop and headed for the bus stop. You’d forgotten your phone was on silent, and it wasn’t until you made it to the train station that you realized it. Two missed calls from Pidge and three texts from her brother.

You checked the texts as you returned her call, unable to hold yourself back from seeing what he wrote to you.

She answered quickly,

“Hey! Are you on your way?”

“Yep,” you replied, “I’ll be there around three forty-five, I think.”

“Okay, perfect. I just wanted to tell you that we’re adding two more to the list. Anjali invited Steph and Tiff. Is that alright, babes?”

You tried not to groan directly into the mouthpiece,

“Yes! The more the merrier.”

What were you going to do about the seating chart? You’d figure it out later. 

“Fantastic! You’re amazing, hen. You know that?”

“Anything for you, bestie.”

She kissed you over the phone and hung up. You let out that sigh you’d been holding. As much as you loved her, you were ready for your friend’s wedding to be over with..

You checked the messages from Johnny, looking to escape from your thoughts again. He was the perfect distraction.

Mo Chroi: oh fuck no

Mo Chroi: its dog day for training

Mo Chroi: army_dog.jpg

You: you dont like dogs?

Mo Chroi: not these

Mo Chroi: had a bad time with attack dogs in russia a few tours back

The train arrived and you got settled. You weren’t sure how to respond. It was back again, that funny feeling in your chest about him being in constant danger. You didn’t know how to handle it. It wasn’t like you could ask him to stop. That was his job, and he was one of the best. He’d been enlisted on this elite task force, and even though you barely understood what that meant, you knew it was special. What right did you have to stand in the way of his greatness? The world needed Sergeant Johnny MacTavish, and you were just a distraction. 

You waited for him to text again, a distraction for you and you for him. A two-way street. That’s all it was, right? How could it be anything more? 

You thought about his sister. She’d been so painfully clear about her boundaries. You imagined telling her you liked him, telling her you wanted to date him. She’d explode. There’d be Scottish yelling, and Scottish fighting, and Scottish siblings rowing at each other all over the house. You couldn’t do that to her, especially not now. So, you just went back to distracting him.

You: did you get bitten?

Mo Chroi: yeah, right on the belly. those bastards. can you see it 

Mo Chroi: shirtless.jpg

You gasped audibly, hoping no one had heard you on the train. You’d already seen him naked, but having a picture of his bare, muscled torso on your phone was another thing entirely. You glanced around, checking behind you and clutching your screen to your chest, holding it to you shamefully, praying no one saw it. 

You typed a message, then deleted it. You tried again, and then deleted it. You knew he could see your text bubbles popping up, and it embarrassed you to no end. Eventually, you decided to just be honest.

You: youre so damn hot

The wait was going to kill you. Seconds became minutes, which became hours, which became eons. You stared at the bottom of your message like it would disappear if you looked away. You opened the picture of his bare torso again, unable to stop yourself from indulging in his huge body. You knew how those muscles felt, and you wanted to feel them again.

He didn’t respond. Your heart sank like a rock. You felt the train screech to a halt at the station, and it took everything in you to pocket your phone and leave the car.

You marched down to meet Hamish, trying to control the look on your face. 

“Hey! Over here!” he called to you from the carpark.

You saw his smiling face and tried to match his energy,

“Hey! Thanks for coming.”

“You bet,” he said as he took your bags. 

“Can we stop by the bakery around the corner? They’ve got all the cookies and pastries we ordered for tomorrow.”

“Of course, lass. No problem. Hop in.”

Hamish drove you around, the perfect gentleman, carrying box after box of dessert for his fiance’s shower, storing them carefully in the boot of the car. 

“Wow, these smell incredible, don’t they,” he crooned, “Wish I could crash your wee party.”

“No boys allowed,” you said wryly, smiling at him, eliciting a genuine laugh.

The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence. He talked a little about his research, and you shared a bit about yours, mentioning your latest lecture. Otherwise, you checked your phone constantly. 

Then, just as you pulled into the driveway of the MacTavish house, you got a text.

Unknown: Hello this is Captain John Price. Sergeant MacTavish’s phone is dead, and he is making me text you the word: promise. 

You: oh thank you. can you tell him promise back?

Captain: Roger

Your stomach twisted for a different reason now. He wasn’t upset with you, which was a relief, but he had just shipped out on another mission. It was so sudden, it seemed like an emergency. You saved the captain’s number in your phone, just in case. 

After hugging Pidge and helping Hamish with the boxes, you unpacked your bags and started the laundry. You met Pidge in the living room, watching her put the finishing touches on some gift bags.

“These are cute,” you commented, feeling the soft ripple of the ribbons tied around the bags in your fingers. 

“Thanks,” she said as she fixed one of the bows, “Hope I made enough.” 

“They’ll live,” you smiled. 

“Hey, did you hear from Johnny again?”

“Uh…no, why?” You panicked.

“He said he doesn’t have my charger but now that muppet is not answerin’ me. Gonna pop him when he’s down for Christmas, I swear.”

“He’s coming back for the holidays?” You asked, a little too enthusiastically. 

Pidge cut her eyes up at you briefly, responding in a measured voice,

“Yeah, just a week. Why?”

You wracked your brain for a reason, pretending to look at the calendar on your phone. Finally, you said,

“Think he’d drive me up from Glasgow? The train is awful at Christmas.”

“Oh,” she sighed, “God, he’s so irresponsible, babes. Not sure I trust him to get you here on time. But, I’ll threaten him. He’ll do it for me. He’s been so accommodating lately. Johnny boy is like a new man.”

“Oh, really?” You weren’t sure where this conversation was going, but you pried anyway.

“Did you know he paid for the rehearsal dinner? The whole damn thing! Having it at the wee distillery and everything. Right proper party we’ll be havin’. Cannae believe it.”

The Auchentoshan Distillery was Old Kilpatrick’s pride and joy. He’d spent a pretty penny if he’d booked it out for her.

“He loves you,” you confessed softly.  

“He tries to,” she said a little bitterly.

You watched her pack up the bags, and you began to wonder about their relationship with each other. It was clear to you that there was some immovable object that was being pressed upon by some unstoppable force. They were at a quiet, bubbling impasse, ready to boil over at any moment. Yes, they loved each other. But, Johnny and Pidge had diverged somewhere, and it was a rift that needed to be mended. 

The washer buzzed. You went to move over the clothes. 

“I’m heading over to grab the girls. Wanna come?” Pidge asked you, her keys in hand. 

“No room,” you observed, realizing they wouldn’t all fit in the car.

“Ugh, guess you’re right, hen. No worry, we’ll be right back. I’m excited to have a girls’ night.”

“Me, too,” you lied. 

Well, it was a half-lie. You didn’t mind a girls’ night. It was more the fact that you’d have to hide your phone from view as you waited for Johnny to report he was back safe and sound. 

After Pidge left, you crawled into his sheets. The memories of you and your soldier came flooding back again, but this time they swirled together with all of the complexities that you were facing. The simplicity of that brief night you shared had become warped by reality, and you realized you needed to come to terms with your emotions before you got hurt. 

FRIDAY EVENING

Your phone buzzed in your hand, waking you. It was warm from being on the charger and covered up by your body. You hoped that didn’t break anything. Sleep had taken you over like a surging wave. You didn’t realize how exhausted you were from your week. 

Unknown: heyyyyy this is soaps mate kyle. he wanted to let you know we’re back. 

You: thanks for letting me know

Kyle: you bet

You were kicking yourself. You should have asked if he was okay. Just when you were about to ask Kyle to check on him, you heard the keys jingle in the door. Swinging your feet to the wooden floor, you got out of bed and met the gaggle of ladies in the foyer.

Cheek kisses, bright hellos and how-are-yous filled the once-quiet house, and you pocketed your phone, trying to distance yourself from the pang of concern. 

You tried to keep up with the fast-paced conversation, but you weren’t the social butterfly that Pidge was. Anjali, Bekah, and Cherise were all gushing about their own lives, and you had very little to share. They were polite enough, asking you about your studies and pretending to care when you answered them.

“Oh, cool,” Cherise said, sipping on wine out of one of Pidge’s nicer glasses, “Poems are cool.”

“Yeah, I was Juliet in that one play,” Bekah said, proudly. 

“And she’ll never let us forget it either,” Anjali rolled her eyes, and everyone laughed.

They were quick to forget you again, turning back to their recent Tinder date disasters and successes. 

“And this bloke - the one with the beard thing - he ask me and this other girl to the same restaurant, on the same night! I thought she was gonna kill him right there in front of the maître de!” Anjali lamented.

Cherise smiled like a Cheshire cat, 

“Lachlan is taking me on his boat next weekend.”

“We know! Shut up about the boat, you slag,” Bekah clipped. 

Cherise shot back quickly, 

“You’re just mad ‘cause Soap hasn’t texted you today.”

You gave the girls your full attention now. You darted your eyes to Pidge who rolled them, but looked otherwise unbothered. Bekah turned her phone around and you saw the image she was eager to display,

“He’s on bloody thin ice. I asked for a pic of him in his uniform, and all he sent me was a picture of some nasty sand!”

Your chest clenched tight enough that you couldnt breathe. It was your picture. Your morning photo from a few days ago. He was holding his breakfast, outstretched, and you could even see your hair tie on his wrist, the rolling dunes of the desert stretching out before him into infinity. 

“Men, am I right?” Anjali finished her wine. 

Maybe she was right. 

SATURDAY MORNING

You’d slept beside Anjali that night, sharing the bed willingly but not enthusiastically. She had snored through most of it, and you’d barely gotten any sleep. It wasn’t just her snoring that kept you up. In fact, you were using her as a scapegoat. You had been thinking about Johnny. 

It was like you were having a war in your mind. On one hand, it was just a picture of some sand, but on the other, you had no idea how many texts they had shared before or after that. Your heart broke easily, shattering melodramatically, whining about how you weren’t special and that if you didnt control yourself, you’d be sorry for it. He was just a playboy, just like everyone said.

Your brain, however, begged you to see reason. He sent her a picture of sand, not his naked torso, and he had forced his teammates to text you your passcode when he went on his mission. Surely that was enough proof that he cared about you and not Bekah.

It wasn’t enough, said the heart. 

It has to be enough, said the head. 

It shouldn’t even be happening, said the soul. 

You watched the sun peek through the blinds just as they had when you’d been wrapped in Johnny’s arms, naked and warm against his pink skin. 

You sighed and got up to shower. 

The party was at two, so you had plenty of time. You made it over to Ettrick’s early to help set up, walking alone since you knew the others would be in heels and wouldn’t all fit in the car. You’d brought flats, sensible but stylish, and a comfortable, albeit sparkly, maxi dress. You felt like shit. Sleep would have been nice, you thought. 

Hamish had delivered all of the boxes for you this morning, and the wait staff at Ettrick’s was setting it out for you. You rearranged it as artfully as you could, and you were just about finished when your phone buzzed.

Mo Chroi: phone’s alive! sorry i disappeared on you thief. forgive me?

You: glad youre ok

You: party starts soon

You: cookies.jpg

You: dessert_table.jpg

Mo Chroi: wow! did you do all that? pigeon is gonna be chuffed

Mo Chroi: heading out to the next spot

Mo Chroi: helicopter2.jpg

You: want me to tell Bekah hi? she was waiting on you to text her back last night

Mo Chroi: ?? no 

Mo Chroi: why 

Mo Chroi: what did she say

Mo Chroi: thief? 

You: just that she was hoping you would text her back. idk

You thought about it for a little while before sending a final text.

You: i think she wanted more than just a sunrise. 

SATURDAY NIGHT

You had three missed calls from Johnny, but you were too busy trying to deal with gift unwrapping, keeping the peace at the over-crowded tables, and rushing out appetizer trays when the wait staff became too overwhelmed. It was chilly tonight, but you were sweating under your long dress. 

You thought about what you’d said to Johnny, and you were mad at yourself for trying to get a rise out of him. You didn’t want to be the one playing games, and you needed to curb your jealousy. He was allowed to text whoever he wanted, just like you were.

You: sorry. cant pick up. busy with your sister

You: champagne.jpg

Mo Chroi: answer my calls thief

Mo Chroi: i have to drive the rig but im calling you as soon as we get to our site

Mo Chroi: trucks.jpg

Mo Chroi: at least tell me when you get back. promise

You: promise

SUNDAY, 0200

You: i made it back to my apartment. hamish drove me. train was down for maintenance.

You: marlowe-in-a-bag.jpg

You: marlowe is mad that i was gone

Mo Chroi: im glad youre alright.

Mo Chroi: gaz took this at our training today

Mo Chroi: group_pic2.jpg

You: yall look tough

You: whos the one in the middle

Mo Chroi: thats the captain and ghost has the dog

Mo Chroi: go to bed thief. its late 

Mo Chroi: sunrise2.jpg

Mo Chroi: can i call you later? its important

You: ok

SUNDAY, NOON

You woke to the sound of rain. A loud peal of thunder pulled you from the darkness of your sleep. You would have stayed with Pidge, but you just couldn’t face his bed again. Hamish was happy to be your chauffeur, even after you learned that the train was out of service. You tried to buy him some gas, but he adamantly refused. 

A headache stung behind your eyes, drilling into you, punishing you for the champagne. You hadn’t been drunk, but it had been sweet, and now you were paying the price for your sugar rush. You checked your phone.

Pidge: hHad such a great night!!. Thanku for everytingf i lov youuuu!!

Pidge: omg Anji just boked inthe sink

You didn’t reply. She was probably still asleep, along with the rest of the household. There was nothing from Johnny, yet. It wasn’t unusual. He was busy with terrorism, you figured. He would text you if he wanted to text you. 

Digging in your freezer, you found some leftover soup and put it on to reheat. Your phone rang.

The selfie of you and Johnny at Glencoe flashed onto your screen. You let it ring again before you picked up.

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice still hoarse from sleep.

“You still asleep, thief. I’m sorry to wake you,” he didn’t sound sorry. 

“It’s okay,” you sighed, “Just making some soup. Rainy here. Cold.”

You: rainy_window.jpg

He groaned, and you could hear the creak of a mattress in the background,

“Mm. Spent the whole day on my belly doing target practice. I miss home.”

Mo Chroi: sniperpractice.jpg

“Yeah? Looks sandy and hot. Too bad there’s no beach,” you stirred the soup.

“I miss you, mo mèirleach.”

You stopped stirring the soup. 

“I miss you, too.”

“Do you? Or are you cross about my texting Beks?”

“Both,” you went back to stirring the soup.

“Sent it to Hamish, too. You cross about tha’?”

You sent back silence. 

“And if I told you Bekah’s an old friend from grammar school, and that’s all she’ll ever be, would you believe me, lass?”

Silence was all you had to give, apparently. Finally, you poured the soup into a big bowl and set it down on your coffee table, shoving your papers and books aside, and said, 

“This soup looks amazing. Wanna see it?”

You: soup.jpg

“Thief. She’s just a friend.”

“I think there’s a song about this actually…”

“I think I’m fallin’ for you, and I need to know if you’re fallin’ for me, too.”

The bite of soup you were about to take hovered in your spoon, frozen in time. You could hear him breathing in your ear, waiting on your response. You could feel your heart shudder in your chest. 

“Johnny. We can’t…”

“Don’t. Don’t start with tha’ mess, thief. Tell me you aren’t fallin’ for me, and I’ll stop. No more texts. I’ll leave it alone.”

“She’ll never forgive me, Johnny. I don’t have anybody else, don’t you get that? I’m not even from here. I’m spending Christmas with her because I don’t have anywhere else to go. You have a whole town who loves you, and she’s your sister. She’ll forgive you in a heartbeat.”

“You have me, don’t you, thief?”

“Do I?”

It was his turn to push silence out through time and space, sending it up to the cellular satellites and mirroring it back down to you. Firing frustrated breathing noises across cables and wires and whatever other stupid fucking technology was happening to you right now. 

“Alright, lass.”

The phone beeped at you to inform you that the call had ended, but you kept it pinned on the shell of your ear, desperate for even a moment of that silence again. You regretted your honor the moment you’d held it up, and you were angry at yourself for keeping a promise you’d promised to keep. 

The phone clattered to the coffee table. The soup went cold. 

MONDAY MORNING

There was no sunrise text for you this time. Your phone didn’t have any notifications at all, in fact.  You made it all the way to the bus before you caved.

You: bus.jpg

You waited. Then, you waited some more. Nothing happened. You tried not to cry, and you failed. Luckily, the bus was empty, and the driver didn’t care about you enough to ask what was wrong.

WEDNESDAY MORNING

You: stuck in the library today. office is being cleaned.

You: library.jpg

Again, you were met with the cold emptiness of staring at your own responses at the bottom of your messages. You tried not to feel the sting of it, but you failed at that, too.

THURSDAY MORNING

You: giving a lecture today. kinda nervous about this one.

You: lectureroom2.jpg

You: hope youre okay

FRIDAY MORNING

Your phone buzzed three times, waking you up with a jolt. It was still dark outside. You fumbled with your phone, rushing to see the messages. 

Kyle: Hey this is Kyle, Soap’s mate. We’re heading back to the black site, so it’ll be a few weeks until you hear from him. 

Kyle: airplane_loading.jpg

You: thanks for telling me

Kyle: Soap asked me to tell you he promises??  I think thats what he said.

You: tell him i promise

You: and can you tell him that i made a mistake? he was right. about everything.

You: and im sorry.

Kyle: Will do!

You stared out of the window until the deep purples of night gave way to a cool pink morning glow, and you watched as the sun stretched its gentle arms up and over the river.

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

Chapter 07

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

https://apple.news/AFk1Z1zB9QoKwIIUYcluOxA

what do you think?

Anon's link is this Page Six story:

Archived Link

As Harry nears his 40th birthday on September 15 and the chances of seeing his family continue to appear remarkably slim, multiple sources said there is only one way he will consider a reconciliation with his father. "King Charles can give Harry the security clearance he wants so desperately. As the monarch, he is the ultimate decision maker. That would be how father and son can reconcile,” said one royal source.

Page Six is a Sussex mouthpiece. It's safe to assume that anything Page Six publishes citing a royal source is coming straight from Montecito and Meghan's hotmail directly.

It's also not new news. We know that Harry's demanded his full-time permanent RAVEC status back since April 2020. What is new is the escalation tactic - this new paranoid fantasy he has that some rando is going to walk up to his car and attack him, his wife, or his children - but only because his/their earlier escalation tactics/threats didn't work:

"you're racist and won't give my child a title" didn't work

"you conspired with the press to plant lies about me" didn't work

"you won't get to see my children" didn't work

"but my miscarriage" didn't work

the Oprah interview didn't work

"my mummy died like this" didn't work

"only I can protect my granny" didn't work

"aren't I your favorite grandson" didn't work

"our first family member of color" didn't work

"you're racist" round 2 didn't work

"but Pa you have cancer, don't you want to see your grandchildren before you die" didn't work

Also, the article says this of Harry:

He said that his late grandmother, Queen Elizabeth, was supportive of his fight. “We had many conversations before she passed, this is very much something she supported. She knew how much this meant to me,” he said. “She is up there going, ‘See this through to the end,’ without question.”

But it's 100% complete bunk. All the facts point towards Harry not having spoken privately with The late Queen since before Megxit. We know from the leaks that the Sussexes visited Windsor Castle in April 2022 to hash out their attendance at the Platinum Jubilee, but those accounts say that Harry didn't have a private audience with The Queen. We know from the leaks that the Sussexes did not have any audience or interaction with The Queen at the Platinum Jubilee. We know from the leaks that the Sussexes were invited to Balmoral for Summer 2022 but refused it.

These lawsuits do not have The late Queen's blessing. He knows it, we know it, and William knows it. But the average American and the average Brit that supports Harry or pays attention to him doesn't know that and still only sees him as Hero Harry, The Queen's Favorite Grandson According to Himself and Only Himself Because Only His Truth Matters. And that's the group of people Harry's appealing to because he thinks if enough of them support him, they'll speak out about it and their public pressure will force Charles and the tabloids to give Harry exactly what he wants.

Because that's been the Sussexes' MO from Day One: if they can't get what they want themselves, they'll use the power of PR and popularity (or "popularity") to force the BRF's hand.

It's what Harry tried to do with the Love Shield (use his popularity and Meghan's race card to fast track the approvals to marry).

It's what Meghan tried to do when she married in (use her popularity to take William's and Kate's patronages and presidencies and assert herself as #2 in the regal pecking order for succession).

It's what they tried to do with titles for their unborn children (use their popularity to force the BRF to upgrade their status so their children would be HRH Prince/Princess from birth).

It's what they tried to do with Megxit (use their popularity to force the BRF to modernize their approach to media relations).

It's what they tried to do with the Oprah interview (use the PR to villanize the BRF to get their children upgraded status).

It's what Harry tried to do at Philip and The Queen's funerals (use PR to reverse the decision prohibiting Harry from wearing his military uniform).

It's what Meghan tried to do when Harry wanted his military titles/honors back (use PR to shame the BRF into giving it back).

It's what they tried to do with Finding Freedom and Endgame (use PR to villanize the BRF and restore their popularity).

and the list goes on.

If it hasn't worked to date, it won't work in the future.

[star-wrote]

ANYFING WITH FLUFFY MUEPHY MACMANUS PLES PLES PLES PLES LMAOOO

Mo Stór

ao3 link

Characters: Murphy MacManus x Fem!Reader

A/N: loving the energy in this request, anon. if you had a tail, it would be wagging LMAO. i’m sorry this took AGES, but i hope you enjoy anyway! <3

Warnings: cussing, bad irish accent writing, fluff, domestic bliss, seriously it’s so fluffy

Word Count: 817

Dating Murphy MacManus isn’t the easiest thing in the world. In fact, if you were to ask his brother, he’d say something along the lines of “Dunno how ya put up with us being vigilantes and shit, lass.”

You and Murphy have had countless talks about him and his brother’s “hobby,” half of them ending in you begging to join him. He would never let you, it’s too dangerous.

So you work your job to support yourself and the boys. You don’t mind it really, they treat you like their queen. Usually, they’re home when you get off work. Walking in to a warm dinner, even if it was a frozen pizza, was a feeling you wish for every good person on earth.

Other nights, like tonight, the brothers wouldn’t be home. You couldn’t help the feeling of anxiety that went to that pit in your stomach. You rush to the note on the refrigerator, ripping it from the magnet that also held up a picture of you and Murphy kissing. Both the picture and the magnet fell off the fridge as you read the note.

“Went to grab Chinese takeaway for dinner. Be back soon x.”

You sighed in relief as you read Murphy’s chicken scratch handwriting. You remembered the magnet and picture that fell, and quickly retrieved them off of the floor. You smiled as you pinned the picture back to the fridge and silently thanked Connor for capturing that moment on camera.

It had been a long night at McGinty’s, and Doc had kept the rounds coming. You had somehow convinced Murphy to dance with you; it must have been the David Bowie song playing. At the end of the song, he dipped you down like you were in some kind of romance movie, and gave you one of many kisses that you two have shared in that bar. Once he heard the click of the camera, he gently dropped you to the floor and shoved his brother, trying to grab the camera. You laughed on the bar floor as he successfully got the camera and pocketed it. He must not have been too upset about the picture since he printed it out the next day.

You heard the door open while you were reminiscing, interrupted by the familiar sound of the twins bickering; this time about chopsticks.

Connor calls your name as he shuts the door. “Are ya gonna use chopsticks?”

You smile as Murphy rolls his eyes and sets the food down on the table. He makes his way over to you and kisses your cheek.

“Yeah, of course,” you answer Connor, “are you?”

He pulls two wrapped pairs of chopsticks out of his pocket and hands you one. “Of course! Murph here wouldn’t let me grab three because he doesn’t know how to use them.”

You look at Murphy who rolls his eyes again as he grabs your hips to slide past you and take a fork from the drawers. He grumbles out “I’m fuckin’ Irish, don’t need to know how, eejit.”

You giggle as you hug him from behind. “I’m pretty sure the Irish didn’t invent the fork either, Murphy.”

He tried to frown, but one side of his mouth lifted. “Are we gonna eat this shite or not?”

After dinner and the nightly movie, you and Murphy retired to your shared bedroom. You were glad that the movie finished because it was Connor’s night to pick, and he picked the worst possible movie on earth, as usual.

You had both changed into your sleep clothes, and brushed your teeth together, smiling at each other in the mirror.

This was your favorite part of the day. You and Murphy got to cuddle in bed and just look at each other. His hand was on your cheek and his thumb was smoothing out your skin.

“Mo stór.” Murphy interrupts the silence.

You smile at him. “What’s that?”

“My darling.”

You kiss his forehead. “Yeah, I am.”

He smiles and kisses your lips gently.

You rest your forehead on his. “For a second I thought you were asking me to marry you or something.”

Without hesitation, he answers, “I would.”

You bring your head up from the pillow and lift your eyebrows in surprise at him.

He notices the shock on your face and scrambles to say something else. “I mean I don’t have a ring for you or anything. But I would get one. I just know that God sent you to me. I may be a saint, but you’re an angel, lass.”

He grabs your hand and kisses the top of it.

“It seems like it would be a pretty divine marriage if you ask me.”

You feel a tear fall from your eye. “Oh my god.”

He smirks as he wipes the tear from your face and chides, “Lord’s name, love.”

You giggle and then nod.

“Let’s do it.”

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 21: The Concert

Every time they're not on camera I simultaneously feel so relieved for them and so upset that I don't get to watch. Messed up of me, but hey. Remember that slightly disturbing quote where Paul said he actually does believe he's kind of public property and he's fine with that?

He looks so determined. Like the fairy tale prince staring down the dragon or Enjolras about to hijack a funeral (Literally my baby was conceived after I watched this in IMAX so if that tells you anything about my feelings . . . I'm going to be annoying I'm sorry I can't help it)

Her legs look so good in those tights! I love that Mo came not because her boyfriend needs his mommy but because she wants to see them perform! Kissing her on the mouth right now.

Danger boy Paul!

Fun fact, I was this John for Halloween in 2021 to a college party. My hair was already like that, and I had dirty white keds and black jeans, so I just did fake sideburns, fake glasses, and a fake fur coat. I tried to get my best friend to be Paul. She wanted to be a hooker, and I was like “It’s the same thing!”

See, look at him and his whorish ways!

John’s little lip-bit smile. He’s so happy with himself nailing that solo. Cutie. 

Cocky boys. As they should be. I love when they’re proud of their work together. Get Back is 95% just Looks between John and Paul, isn’t it?

John and Paul instantly jump into their little “humble working class entertainers” act. You know what just occurred to me? You know how they talked about the “rattle your jewelry” comment backstage and Paul dared John to say it? I wonder if they talked about the “audition” comment too.

It really is a beautiful thing they’re doing. It’s lovely, watching everyon leave their desk jobs and their shopping and whatever else to sit in their fire escapes and congregate in the street and huddle together on rooftops. It really is just like the happy end in a sixties zeitgeist movie. 

All the girls nervous to be too enthusiastic after years of being made fun of themselves and watching others like them being mocked on TV. Let girls like things, damnit!

Mo jamming! I’m in love.

John mouthing Paul’s lyrics.

“Paul McCartney singing that. What a voice.” Literally me if time travel existed. 

“And if SOMEBODY loved me like she does,” Well, it is good manners to look at the person you’re talking to, I guess. But you do have an audience, John. And a mic and a camera. 

“Absolutely disrupt all the business in this area.” Yes! Get those blue meanies, boys!

“No lay rishi gahd blay bloojaygoo” should replace all the stupid quotes the Lennon estate puts on everything they sell. Then I’d actually want their shit. Paul trying to magic the words from his head into John’s there. Successfully, though.

That “Pleeeeeheeeeease” is one of the prettiest beatles vocal moments. I love it with all my heart. And clearly, so does Paul. Doing that thing he does, inappropriately thrusting into his bass. 

Oh my gosh it’s the song Paul and John do together on tour right now!

That “Yyyyyeeeeeah, yeaaaaaah!” (I mean the whole song, the whole concert, but especially that) does things to me. 

John’s extremely blurry, because he turned his head quick enough to give him whiplash there, sorry everyone. But look! They’re having the time of their lives! They just love performing together so much!

Everyone goes to check on their accumulating audience. (except Paul. Wonder what that’s about.)Ringo’s little pleasantly surprised smile is so so sweet!

It must be so fun for them to be performing One after 909 again after all these years. Bitter sweet with everything that’s changed since then. 

LMAO Kevin thank you for your service!

He’s a silly cutie.

The mic in the street asking that girl if she’d like them to come back every lunchtime. Imagine if they did? How cute would that be? Like back to their cavern lunchtime shows. Maybe that could’ve saved them.

Them playing God Save the Queen reminds me of that story where Brian was like, “This bigger manager wants to buy your contract from me, and I just wanted to be straight with you. They could probably get better deals for you.” and they were like, “If you sell us to him we’re only playing God Save the Queen from that moment on.” It’s probably a fake story, but that’s what it made me think of. 

I always think that quote of Paul’s is so strange, where he was like “I never got the chance to watch John while we were playing.” Like. What are you talking about, baby?

Literally “Uh. Yeah. Uh. Yeah.” Fucking his bass. Staring at John. Okay? And I’m not supposed to take that and run with it? I’m not supposed to assume from that that you want to fuck your songwriting partner?

I think he genuinely wants to get arrested. I really do. I think he wants them all to get arrested so they can finally be alone in a room together. A lovely cell for four. Just shimmying at them. And Billy looking at him like, Bro. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Paul’s “woo” and shimmy :: John’s “woo” and weird little kick move. And Paul looks so fond, of course. 

God bless Mal for stalling those little fucks as long as humanly possible. And Debbie! “Don’t actually go on the roof because it’s overweight.” Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss!

Absolutely LOVE John and George turning their amps back on. That’s right. You guys are what’s keeping the country going at this point, so if you want to play on your roof they better let you play on your roof and say thank you.

All the times when they just simultaneously turn to each other. Like, yes, this is our que to stare hungrily into each other’s eyes. 

My stomach just dropped at those words across the screen. “This was the Beatles’ last public performance.” We know, Peter Jackson. You don’t have to remind us. Jeez. 

John and Paul’s two very different but equally important leadership roles in the band at work here at the end of the concert. John delivers his iconic line, makes everyone laugh, and seals the band’s last performance with a very tight bow. Meanwhile, Paul’s climbing the gate to bypass the crowd and schmooze the police out of arresting Mal. 

THIS is sooo cute. Heads buried together and John’s very sweet, “‘s’matter? Hmm?” 

George is so cute here in the control room afterward. No wonder they don’t listen to his not wanting to do things, honestly, if he acts like this after. “What’s the law say why you can’t do that? Well how disturbing the peace? Yeah, I’m for taking over London. And every rock group in the world all on different buildings, playing the same tune.” Adorable.

Poor John. It breaks my heart that he doesn’t think his little lyric flub is funny. He’s disappointed in himself. I wish he could see that that’s one of the things everyone loves about him. George was grinning ear to ear about it. For fuck’s sake, that’s one of the reasons Paul fell in love with you in the first place. If only John could see himself the way we see him, you know? 

This little moment cracks me up. John always has to be mommy’s naughty little boy, and Yoko does a very sweet job of playing her part here. 

Linda and Paul are so touchy and clingy and it’s very romantic and I love that Ringo joins in and makes fun of them.   

The whole after-show glow for everyone was just so palpable and fantastic. I wish they could've gone on performing together. Clearly it made all of them very happy.

[quipxotic]

OK I’ll play. What insecurity visions could Matt torture Bell’s Hells with? Ideas under the cut for length and also trigger warnings for general trauma and awfulness because, after all, it's emotional torture and manipulation:

What can we guess from what we've seen of the first vision?

Well, Chet saw himself as a child murderer/werewolf version of the big bad wolf, so clearly these visions don't have to be based in reality. They just have to be emotionally resonant.

I suspect a lot of the things we all think should be in the visions because they're commonly discussed among fans, won't be. The players are all aware of those issues and Matt knows that, so if the point is to catch them by surprise, he'll have to try other things. I mean, would anyone have had Chet murdering children on their bingo card before s3e97?

I'll still include the obvious stuff in the list below because my silly brain won't move on to thinking about other options until I have those out of the way.

Another thing, that vision both played on Chet's fears and a soft spot for Travis, so we shouldn't be surprised if the other visions also have dual targets.

The visions could target issues and events that happened before the group met to add to the confusion about whether they're real or not.

Regardless how far the visions are from reality, they have the power to convince their target that they're real.

What visions might we get for each member of Bell's Hells?

Chet

His abandonment by his family, maybe showing what he fears might have happened to them.

The possibility of passing along his curse to his friends or other innocent people.

How little he was able to help in the fight that killed FCG, i.e. the curse he embraced to give himself the power to do more and be more actually not being enough to protect the people he loves.

Being old and either dying without leaving his mark or dying alone, abandoned, and forgotten.

Losing his ability to create using wood or maybe create anything period.

Laudna

Delilah, of course. There’s a lot of ways that trauma could be flavored but my guess is a vision of the children of Whitestone dead at Laudna's hands thanks to Delilah's influence.

Seeing herself hanging her friends on the Sun Tree.

A rehashing of Bor’Dor's death and her doing something similar to all her friends or other people close to them. Keyleth perhaps?

Imogen rejecting her, but maybe not over something obvious like Delilah. Maybe something more integral to Laudna herself like her stunted maturity? Maybe showing Laudna a version of her life where she's trapped in place but everyone else gets to grow, change, and live fully rounded adult lives.

Betrayal from within the group. I’d guess Imogen and Team Issylra would feature highly in that if it happens.

Dorian

We already know that the visions will target the fate of Cyrus, taking the slant that Dorian never let Cyrus take responsibility for his mistakes while simultaneously dragging his brother into the consequences of his own mistakes.

Opal losing herself to the Spider Queen and how he could have saved her by taking the crown himself.

Dorian’s cowardice (whether real or imagined) and tendency to run away from problems/complications is probably too obvious, but it could still be pretty juicy to explore.

The potential destruction of the Silken Squall due to the changes in magic and both he and Cyrus not being there.

Alternatively he could see a life in his home where he’s forced to abandon all the elements of himself and his travels that bring him joy. A future of soulless work and obligation, alone and without the outlet of honest self-expression even in your private hours would crack a lot of people.

Fearne

She thinks she is going to be fine but I don't think so. Like we saw with Chet, the visions don’t have to be based in reality to cause harm

She has some abandonment issues from her parents. I wonder if, rather than taking that head-on, the spin will be around her parents “selling” her to Morri for a favor.

The possibility of her father hurting or killing everyone she loves to try to exalt her.

Do people really love her for herself or for who she was manufactured to be? How much trust can she put in their love? Does Nana love her or does she just see Fearne as a useful card to play in her long game of manipulating fate?

Dark mirror Fearne could show up here, but I doubt it since we just had her a few episodes ago.

Fearne has struggled with understanding death. How would she react if all of her friends were gone or turned against her?

Imogen

The most obvious is Liliana/Laudna not loving her enough to choose her over opportunities for power or control.

The call of Predathos and being fated to surrender herself to it.

Watching Laudna lose herself to the point of committing horrors and having to decide whether to fight her or watch others suffer.

Failing at her mission and facing the consequences of all the death and suffering Predathos could cause.

The death of FCG and that, towards the end of the last Otohan fight, Imogen chose to play dead rather than continue fighting.

Orym

The deaths of his husband and father-in-law seem pretty likely but surely Orym/Liam would expect that? Maybe having Will and Derrig guilting Orym about his feelings about Dorian? It doesn't matter that in reality they'd both be happy for him to love again, just that Orym feels he doesn't have the right to want that.

Having to follow through on Keyleth’s order to kill Bell’s Hells if they become a threat.

Choosing not to kill Bell's Hells and dealing with what he fears Keyleth and his family would think about that.

Seeing Whitestone and Zephrah destroyed and Keyleth and Vox Machina killed because he failed to stop Delilah from taking over Laudna.

Something from their Issylra trip. Maybe the assault on the temple? Maybe something to do with Bor'Dor?

Just the idea that he'll never be good enough to save the people he cares about, perhaps featuring FCG, Will, Derrig, and Eshteross.

Becoming someone hard and cold, delighting in his fighting abilities for their own sake. Basically, becoming Otohan.

Ashton

A lot of abandonment issues in Bell's Hells, and Ashton is maybe the worst of the bunch in that area. His vision could be facing his parents and the Nobodies as they tell him how worthless and disappointing he is? Not smart enough. Not charming or kind enough to make real friendships or keep anyone close. Why would anyone want to be around them for long?

But also maybe they're too much? Too angry, too emotional, too violent, too soft. They're both too overwhelming and too reckless. They can't be trusted with fragile things, like other people's lives (featuring FCG, Laudna, and Fearne for extra pain).

I don't think Ashton is jealous in the way a lot of fans try to make them out to be, but I do think they're insecure in their relationships. So he wouldn't begrudge Fearne her poly relationships but might wonder if there's still room for them in all that? They're glad Dorian is back, but does that mean his close relationship with Orym will be discarded now it's no longer needed to help fill that void? Are they only a convenient, temporary fix that their loved ones use until something better comes along?

Maybe something about Issylra, either Hearthdell and Abaddina or what happened to the Hishari?

Shard-gate, round 2?

Rightfully Essek should also be here, but I don't have the background knowledge to do that well, so I'll leave that to the C2 fans.

[mvskedxrtist]

Such a Bad Laozu

Wᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: PwP, Mommy Kink, Creampie, Slight Overstimulation, Choking, Slight Bondage

Nᴏᴛᴇ: I have lots of drafts saved up that I'm writing and waiting to post for you guys. I'm also adding one last fandom if you noticed my main masterlist. So, my planning, you'll see later but for now enjoy this small request

Lan!AFAB!Reader x Wei Wuxian - Such a Bad Laozu

Wei Wuxian... The Yilling Patriarch, the Yilling Laozu, demon spawn, Baba, Wei Ying, Ridiculous, many bad things.

Lan Y/N... The older Pearl of Gusu, Top three fighters, Mama, Ice Queen, the Gusu Princess, many good things.

Two completely opposite people, yet everyone saw them together most of the time during Gusu Lectures. No one knew of how Wei Wuxian was able to befriend the ice queen, not even her brothers knew... Well except Lan Xichen, but she made him promise that he didn't tell their little brother. And he's kept that promise, even to this day of how Wei Wuxian was in Mo Xuanyu's body. Lan Y/N could instantly tell it was her beloved. He wasn't able to fool her that easily.

So when Lan Wangji brought Wei Wuxian to Gusu those first few nights, you decided to have Wei Ying sleep in your palace because it made more sense then have him room with your brother. Mo Xuanyu was known for being gay so wouldn't him rooming with a woman be the best way so he's behaved? Everyone in Gusu thought so, especially Wei Wuxian.

"Wei Wuxian! The fact that you now come back here after all these years and yet decided to hide from me is shameful!" You yelled at him and pushed him onto your mat while the male looked flustered and chuckled softly. "Y/N..I know I shouldn't have."

"Oh that's definitely an understatement, Mr. Lazou. For leaving me alone these past 13 years, you will take all of my brunt." You smirked as you pulled his robes off. He looked a bit excited from your sudden change of attitude but he should of expected it. He left you alone for 13 years, he would definitely be pent up as well after finding out that his loved one was alive.

You used your Lan forehead ribbon and tied Wei Wuxian's hands up with it tight as you were on top of him. "Wow Mommy~... You better hope your brothers don't try to come in..." He teased you a bit while watching you take your robes off, getting back on top of him and wrapping your hand around his neck. "They won't. Xichen definitely won't and he'll make sure Wangji doesn't either. Now shut it."

The next few hours that went by were spent by you and Wei Wuxian fucking each other senseless like bunnies in heat, loud moans coming from the both of them. He couldn't really tell what time it was or how long they were going, he just knew that being with his pearl was amazing. "Fuck yes, Mommy~" He groaned while you were bouncing up and down his cock for probably the nth time. Squelching sounds could be heard from their hips connecting together, one look in your eyes told Wei Ying everything. He's gonna be exhausted when the sun rises.

And exhausted he was, he didn't even knew that Y/N had this much stamina until she made him cum inside of her ass for the fifth time. He could feel himself get sleepy, there probably only was a few hours left until it was time to get up yet you still wanted more from him. "Cmon, one last time, Wei Ying.." You panted softly while increasing your speed, moaning from how deep he went in you.

"B-but Mommy~ I don't think I can..~" He whined under his breath, tears in his eyes because of pleasure before you pulled his hair a bit, grabbing the ponytail. "But I know you can, baby~ Unless you're being a bad Laozu and refusing?.."

[charlesswife]

times that charles and y/n showed they are couple but keep saying they are not - video

pairing: charles leclerc x f1 driver! reader

summary: after their public kiss, fans went crazy, one of them made a youtube compilation of your favorites formula one drivers being a wholesome couple but saying they are just friends

lowercase indeed

[intro with monotone voice]

hello friends, in this video i'm going to show you how charles lechair and my queen y/n y/l/n are a couple, they can't really deny it, they are so obvious they make me sick, specially after the kiss they had on tv.

[cuts to the video playing in slow mo with the intro of careless whisper]

anyways here we go

we start at the 2022 Met Gala, where our queen decided to bless us with her presence, and who is a few feet from her? Charlito. They both looked stunning as how it is and absolutely angelical together.

they both approach one of the interviewers and while the interviewer was asking y/n about what she was wearing, charles was only giving y/n heart eyes, only looking at her.

you ain't fooling anyone charles, you love her.

"We are here with celebrity icon and Formula One driver y/n y/l/n" the interviewer started, "alongside her, it's Charles Leclerc"

"Hello" I greeted her.

"So tell us a bit about your outfit, who are you wearing?"

I said what I had memorized before the MET, explaining about the dress, the collaboration with the designer, and what the theme means to me. typical questions with typical answers.

"I see you came with Charles Leclerc, was that planned?"

I wasn't surprised about the question, I knew people were gonna ask about Charles, but she was so bold for it. I looked at Charles, who was already looking at me.

"He begged me to come," I said, "he almost cried like a baby," I laughed. Just as I did that, a piece of my hair got in front of my face, before I could fix it, Charles' hand was already doing the job.

"Well, we are glad you did. You guys definitely look good together"

[cuts to second clip]

if you thought that pierre and charles were the gossipers of the grid, you are wrong. it's y/n and charles. whenever they are in the same room, they just look at each other and the telepathy starts.

"it's crazy the way Charles and Y/n understand each other" Lando said to his twitch chat, "like they just know what the other is thinking it's scary."

The comments started to flow, chat wanted examples.

"Like the other day, some of the drivers, we were all talking and out of nowhere Charles just hands her like a hair tie? no idea where he got it from but apparently y/n made this 'face'" he quoted with his fingers, "that she was hot, he's such a simp, he says he always has one for emergencies"

after a few seconds he started ranting again about Charles and Y/n

"they like to judge people too, they might laugh and deny it but it's true-- last week Carlos was doing this dance move thing and immediately charles and y/n look at each other and it looked like they were having a mental conversation, mate they are crazy together," he reads the chat, who was asking more about their relationship, "I don't think they are just friends as they say, but whatever"

[cuts to third clip]

In the picture of Formula One first day, Y/n said her favorite song is Ready for it? by Taylor Swift.

The social media person in charge of Tiktok, Sarah (idk their names this is just made up), followed Charles with a tiny mic and asked him

"Excuse me, what are you listening to?"

Charles took out one of the headphones and asked, "What?"

"The fans want to know what you are listening to"

"Oh! I'm listening to Taylor Swift" he giggled as he showed the screen to the camera. The song being Ready for it?

There is a speed up walk to Y/n in her red suit drinking water. She sees Sarah with camera in hand and waves at her.

She repeated the same question from before, "Excuse me, what song are you listening to?"

"I'm listening to my girl Taylor! Look What You Made Me Do from the Reputation album," as she showed the screen, a message notification could be seen 'Charles ❤️ - iMessage' she turned her phone back to her to take out the notification, "Oops" she turned the phone back to the screen, "Here we go" she said with a smile.

The caption of the video was 'Our ferrari drivers being Taylor fans is a big slay'

[back to main screen]

i rest my case, but we cannot forget about this iconic moment from charles and y/n, this moment lives rent free in my head.

"So for today we are going to give you boards, and we are gonna go who's most likely"

As Y/n got her board, she said, "this should be fun, we know each other pretty well,"

Charles nodded, "I think I know more about you than you about me"

"Is this a challenge, lord Perceval?"

He laughed, "I mean that's the whole point of the video."

"Bring it on, big boy"

The camera was recording the whole interaction. As Charles was doing the intro for the video and explaining what they were doing, Y/n was doodling in her board and erasing stuff.

"I am so ready to crush you," she said.

"Let the best racer win"

"Who's most likely to want to do something spontaneous during the weekend"

Y/n started writing her anser, "Guys, this is pretty obvious," she turned her board around and the words Charles were on it. Charles had the same answer.

"Me. 100%"

"Charles is always wanting to do something over the weekend, I just wanna chill at home with my cat," she explained as she erased the board.

"So true, I have to drag her out of her house sometimes"

"Which reminds me that I need to change my lock or take away your key," with her comment, Charles rolled his eyes.

It went on like that for a few more rounds until the game was other.

"I think we did a good job," Y/n says.

"I think so too," Charles agrred.

"High five," she put her hand up for him so high five her, as he did, he grabbed her hand and pulled her chair closer to him.

The scene was repeated in slow motion with Careless Whisper in the back again.

[outro]

i really need charles and y/n to confirm their relationship so i can be have a nice good night sleep.

dont forget to share, like and comment for more videos of charles and y/n.

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

is this...? a new series...? anyways, enjoy this while i start to write the new chapter of UNEM, which i'm hoping to upload by monday.

let me know what you think about this imagine and if youd like to see more of charles x f1 driver! reader! because it is definitely fun writing about it.

@fandomxs1 @teti-menchon0604 @moonclaine @amsofftrack @fandoms-stuff @mac-daddy-210 @bisexual-desi @miureiz @diasnohibng @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @im-just-here-toread @tyskills @rafaaoli @heavengirls111 @lighttsoutlewis @leclerc13 @c4ssi4-luv @ynbutbetter @marigoldgasly @vita-di-moda @sbrn0905 @leclercsbae @bhiees @empathypostsf1 @marauderlover22 @ushygushybaby @zendayabelova @lord_leclerc @itsmesofia @sebbybucky12 @notleclerc @dicaprio-leo @starkeyellow @spngi @mskeisha69 @prrttyposts @vex-et-soleil @dessxoxsworld @thesurielscheesecake @severenswife @livsans @67-angelofthelordme-67 @booksobsess @buckleyverse

[zhongrin]

more to love

◇ characters ◇ zhongli

◇ tags ◇ afab!reader, chubby!reader, extremely self indulgent don't like don’t read, asphyxiation

◇ a/n ◇ all bodies are valid. you can be skinny or fit or pudgy or overweight or underweight or anything inbetween - you are beautiful nonetheless. as of writing this, i just…. i needed a self-pick-me-up.

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

your husband absolutely adores the extra softness on your body.

sometimes, he feels a little childish for wanting to pinch your adorable cheeks, so his subconsciousness makes up for it by having his hand mindlessly making biscuits on your tummy or thighs, like some kind of a kitten who’s fascinated by his new and overly comfortable blanket.

he wants you to constantly sit on his lap ("'too heavy'? ….. darling, have you perhaps forgotten the story behind the guyun stone forest? let me recount it for you-") whenever he talks, and when it’s his turn to listen you bet he’ll be tucking his chin on your soft shoulder, sighing comfortably against your neck. his arms tightly snug around you, fingers fondling your belly, sometimes your thighs, and other times your breasts.

your fingers are so adorable to him. he marvels at how he can splay them open against each other and curl the top of his fingers to cradle yours in. he shakes his head when you apologize for its ‘stumpiness’, and he tells you it’s lovely and endearing. a homemaker’s hand, as the olden wives' tales say.

he kisses your knuckles every day and will never tire of trailing his lips on your hand; from the tips of your finger down to your wrist, resting on your pulse point as he silently appreciates the strong beats of your heart. it’s almost a game now, of you guessing which finger he’s going to pick to shower with attention today, but your favorite is whenever he decides to lavish your ring finger with kisses - because his eyes would always stop momentarily at the wedding band with such a warm, lovestruck gaze, which he would then switch to you.

“i’m so lucky to be yours,” he says, and stubbornly insists even as you tell him the sentiment should be yours to have.

your ‘thunder thighs’ and ‘birthing hips’ and whatever term the people these days would use to describe your body? they contain nothing but positive connotations in his book. magnificent, exquisite, gorgeous, seductive, alluring, biteable, bewitching, splendid, eye-catching- honestly, he can go on for days if you ask him. though rex lapis is a former god, rex lapis is also a simple man; it means more canvas to mark and fondle and worship, and he thinks, what man would not want to rejoice being blessed by such a bountiful gift?

he likes the term ‘love handles’ for its literal meaning - how he can hold them as he makes love to you, a special spot he appreciates for existing, and wouldn't trade with anything else. they’re so soft against his body whenever he pulls you close, and the way they spill over the lingerie he bought for you is such a delectable sight.

you might never be able to fathom the mental war happening inside his head.

sometimes his loving side wins and he will treat you like a queen that you are, a higher being than a former deity, with gentle touches and loving affirmations caressing your every sense.

other times you aren't so lucky (or, you are extremely lucky, depending on how you look at it), because when your darling husband succumbs to his baser instincts, there is nothing in the whole teyvat that could stop him from loving your body in a more... disorderly way, than usual.

sweet pet names turn into filthier ones, spoken in the same calming, gentle tone, yet it makes them sound even more demeaning and indecent. his possessiveness shines through the way he latches onto you, caging you in as if wanting to shield you from the world, teeth creating marks all over your body, voice purring ‘my’s and ‘mine’ and goading you to scream his name. his molten amber eyes follow your bouncing breasts, a taunting delicacy he would gladly take into his mouth to suck and mark. his usually tender touches turn into strong fingers curling around your neck, applying just the right pressure on the right spots, making your eyes roll to the back of your head and your breath hitch, your walls gripping him in a vicelike hold. he brings you over the edge again and again, knots you and fills your womb to the brim until you give him a hard stop sign-

-and just like that, like you’ve pressed a button, your gentle zhongli is back, nuzzling onto your full, sore breasts. he places a fleeting kiss onto your neck adorned with purple lovebites, and carries you off into the bathroom to run you a relaxing bath.

zhongli means it when he says he adores every single inch of you - both the entirety of your soul and your body. and when he promises to do so until his last breath, you best believe him, because it is an oath he takes seriously, more than all the other contracts he has made.

© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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