#seven seas alliance

[birthday-hell]

Jinbe

Happy Birthday

April 2

[myladysapphire]

Hello!!! So I was thinking if you could do this +18 dic for Jace

So like reader is from a kingdom or land outside from Westeros (royalty not Dothraki) and to make alliances it’s decided that readers sister is gonna be betrothed to someone in the Targaryen family BUT reader is against making alliances with Westeros because of their culture and how women are inferior and after the feast jace shows her why Westeros and her land should make alliances if yk what I mean👀

It would be awesome if you could make this!!

Thanks bye bye!!

oooh love this idea! Hope you enjoy it <3

why don’t i show you?

when you come to westeros to arrange your sisters marriage in an alliance with westeros you find there customs to be anything but acceptable and start to question the need for an alliance, it takes jace to show you why an alliance is needed.

word count: 2,134

CW: MDI 18+, smut, hate s*x, oral (m receiving), fingering, p in v, semi-public s*x, misogyny.

Jacaerys Veleryon x fem!reader

Masterlist

Once queen Rhaenyra Targaryen took the iron throne she looked to Essos for alliances, particularly the free city of Bravvos. Your family was one of the most powerful of the sea lords, with deep connections and influence in the iron bank, and with Westeros in deep need of money following the war, it made your older sister the perfect candidate for said alliance.

She content with the match, the idea of one day being queen seeming to be very appealing, even if it was of Westros.

You however were anything but happy about it. You knew all about Westros, especially there views on woman, the purity culture, the fact that a husband by law could strike his wife seven times, one for each of their gods.

You had argued against the match, seeing little benefits for your family or Bravvos in the union, but your parents were insistent on it, deeming there to be more rewards than I could understand.

They had sent you alongside your sister to Westros despite this.

And though the climate was so different from what you and your sister were used too, Westros was beautiful. The red keep, though nothing compared to the architecture of Bravvos, was a sight to behold.

If only you could say the same about the company with in it.

The prince Jacaerys had not once left you alone, seeing to prefer you over your sister. Not that you could see why, not once had you expressed joy over the union, and in fact had very publicly declared your distaste of it. But Jacaerys seemed persistent to irritate you with his constant presence.

He had practically ignored your sister, not that she cared much, in fact she spent most her time with the princess Heleana, finding more in common with her than the few conversations Jacaerys had spaired her. She also had taken a full backseat in the betrothal, not caring to attend the meetings to discuss said marriage and the alliance it would hold, leaving it all too you. Meaning more time spent with Jacaerys, in a room full of men, despite their being a queen.

You scoffed as one of the lords mentioned a marriage between you and another lord of Westros, your were sure he was talking about himself, as he started to ramble on about the rock he called a castle, not that you were really listening, to focused on how Jacaerys had yet to take his eyes off you.

“I do not think a marriage between both sisters is beneficial for Bravvos” you interrupted, “in fact this marriage alliance is hardly giving us anything beneficial in the first place” you sneered.

“How so, my lady?” Jacaerys asked, as an amused look filled his face. “Though you are giving us a loan, that I shall admit will benefit us greatly, we are giving your family a daughter who shall one day be queen, and her sons shall be kings.” You had noticed how he never once referred to your sister when he talked about said marriage alliance, always using a general term, being unspecific in who exactly he was talking about. “Not only that but we have offered our dragon riders to support Bravvos in any militarily matters until the foreseeable future”

You shook your head, “so a queen and dragons is what we get, whilst you get one of the largest loans we have offered, with minimal interest. We are saving you and your kingdom from bankruptcy, and yet my sister shall be queen of a kingdom that can’t even respect her!” She shook her head in anger, “the sea lords however seem insistent upon it, so I believe discussions on the matter are at an end, the marriage will take place in a week and I see no reason for me to continue to attend these meeting” you said as you stood to stand, Jacaerys joined you.

“I’ll walk with you”

“I can walk by myself” you whispered to yourself, and heard Jacaerys laugh as he walked with you.

“Why are you so against the marriage?” He asked, as he walked with you to your chambers.

“Because I do not desire for my sister to be thrusted into a country where the customs are so… so anti-woman” you spoke, trying to remain calm.

He hummed “my mother is queen and she is a woman, that does not seem anti-woman to me”

“Was there not a war against her being queen?”

He laughed “there was, but we won, and all is now well”

“Really?” It was your turn to laugh “then explain to me why the order of westros is so heavily favoured towards men?”

“It takes a while to change peoples thinking, my mother has been queen for only a few years, and whilst things are changing, I shall admit it Is happening slowly”

You scoffed, as you reached the threshold of your chambers, “I shall see you at dinner” you dismissed done with the conversation. It was the same one you always seemed to have.

That night at dinner, your sister once again did not sit with her betrothed, favouring sitting with Heleana once more, granting Jacaerys the opportunity to once again sit next to you. An event that seemed to happen every night.

You tried to ignore him, but he seemed insistent upon talking to you, “how is it you like your tea my lady?” Your not quite sure how you got onto the topic of tea, perhaps it was because he noticed tea was your go to drink.

“Oh um, well I mostly take it with honey, but depending on my mood I have been know to mix lavender or peppermint into it.” You said casually, “do you like tea?” You found yourself asking.

“I normally have it in the morning, but I tend not to add anything to it other than sugar” he said, happy to have an actual conversation with you, “what about wine?”

“Wine? I drink it on occasion, such as tonight.” You said as you as flagged down a servant to pour you some, you rarely drank, especially here, with there watered down wine.

“Interesting, I too rarely drink” he said, nodding his head “and what about-“

“If your going to ask me another question about what drink I like I will slam your head against the table” you snickered, as he laughed at your tone.

“I apologise” he continued to laugh “perhaps you could tell me about your interest’s mayhaps?”

You shook your head “and why should I do that?”

“Because I wish to know you, other than how you take your tea and that you are incredibly headstrong-”

You scoffed “headstrong? I simple wish for woman to at least be treated the same way men are, and yet the whole of westros is so against it that I am the one causing an issue!” You whispered angrily to him, trying not to start a scene.

“And you are wrong, woman may not be treated the same as in Bravvos but we are making attempts to change it, trust me I am as against it as you are!” He whispered back.

You scoffed “oh please.” You said as stood to stand, declaring you wished to retire early.

Your practically stormed out of the room, nearly running down the hallway. You stopped in an alcove to catch your breath, and recover and wonder why so little words had made you so angry.

Then you heard footsteps, his footsteps.

“My lady, I am sorry to offend you.” He started “I know there are a great many differences between our to lands and I am sorry, I am striving to do everything I can to change this, but our lands need this alliance”

“And why is that?”

“Because I-“ stopped himself before looking at you, and suddenly, he kissed you, it was soft and passionate, full of the emotions you had long craved to believe where hate, but as you kissed him back, though some hate was there, it clicked, you liked him, and were jealous of your sister. You pushed away from him, your hands on his shoulders, your back pushed against the wall, breath heavy.

“I need you” he finally finished, his head leaning against yours.

“Your betrothed to my sister” you argued.

“The alliance does not state her name, I could marry either of you” he said, his mouth coming down to yours again “and your sister seems more occupied with others than me, I doubt she’ll mind”

It was true, and so you kissed him back, not caring to think much about what he was implying.

His hands descended to your waist pulling you closer to him.

Your kisses grew more heated, your bodies slowly grinding against eachother the as you kissed. His mouth descended to your neck, leaving soft marks as he descended lower, before finally coming down to were your bodice starts, his hands had moved up your back, toying with the strings of your corset.

“Please.” You begged.

His hands started to undo the ties of your corset, your bodice slowly loosened, allowing him to pull it down and take your breast into his mouth.

He licked and sucked at your breasts as you let out low moans, careful as to not alert passers by of your presence.

His hand moved lower, coming up under your dress, caressing your wet cunt. You shuddered as his finger descended to your hole, your mouth moving to his once again as you urged him on.

Pumping his fingers in and out of you, you continued to kiss him to cover up your moans, as you felt your cunt start to tighten around his fingers, your peak edging closer and closer, but just as you where about to cum, he withdrew his fingers causing a moan of protest to leave you.

He laughed, “if I am going to truly show you why we need this alliance, then the only way your going to be cumming, is around my cock.”

You moaned as he said that, kissing him once again as your hands went to untie his breeches.

Freeing his cock, you slowly started to stop kissing him, before sending him a smirk and going down on to your knees, and taking him into your mouth.

He moaned as you did, his hands coming to hold your head, as you started to pump in his cock in and out of your mouth, his hips shattering as you tongue wrapped around his tip.

“Gods!” He moaned, a little too loudly, as he started to thrust his cock in and out of your mouth, before swiftly withdrawing himself from, you stood up, laughing softly at the flushed look on his face.

He kissed your mouth softly, before picking you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, your dress bunching around your own, and his cock swiftly entered you.

You both moaned, as your walls wrapped around his length tightly. He moved after a moment, starting to pump his hips slowly into you.

“Faster.” You demanded, and he happily complied.

Pounding into you, you both moaning as his pace picked up.

He kissed your neck softly, hiding his moans in your shoulder, as you bit your hand trying to cover up your own.

You peak getting closer and closer.

You could feel his coming too, your cunt wrapping around his throbbing cock, as you both let out a moan.

“Where?” He asked, his peak getting closer and closer.

“Inside” you groaned, egar to cum.

As he continued to pump into you, he felt your walls tighten even more, and a high pitched moan leave your mouth as you finally came, and he was quick to follow.

“Jacaerys” you said, as he pulled out of you, his head resting on your shoulder.

“Jace. Please call me Jace”

“Jace” you corrected “what-“ you were cut off at the sight of Queen Rhaenyra and her husband Daemon, appearing in the entryway of the alcove.

Daemon laughed as he saw the two of you, what you had done seemingly obvious.

Rhaenyra shook her head, going to speak, before being cut off by your sister appearing.

She laughed herself, mainly at the shocked look on both your and Jace’s face. “Well, good thing I didn’t want to marry him anyway” she said, unconcerned with what she walked in on.

A week later you married Jace instead of your sister. And Rhaenyra had made you her key advisor on the matters you so strongly spoke about, as was agreed upon in the new terms of your alliance.

And though you hated most customs in westros you found instead of hating the company as you once did, you now rather enjoyed it, even falling in love with one of them in particular.

Taglist

@aleemendoza2425-blog @apollonshootafar @zillahvathek @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @leavesmealobe @dark-night-sky-99 @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunblogsblog @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld

to be added to taglist

[svsss-fanon-exposed]

Exposing SVSSS Fanon: 16/∞

LUO BINGHE HAS A "STEREOTYPICALLY MASCULINE" APPEARANCE

Rating: FANON - CONFLICTING

In fanworks, Luo Binghe is often portrayed as particularly muscular and buff, broad-shouldered, often with tanned skin and sharply-defined features-- all traits that are considered to be stereotypically masculine in the west.

All of this directly contradicts his canonical description.

Necessary disclaimer: I'm not talking against depicting Luo Binghe with a naturally darker skin tone. While that still contradicts the canonical description, I can understand going against colorism (something very rampant in east asian beauty standards!) in fanworks. This sort of discussion is particularly toward those who portray him as fair-skinned on Qing Jing Peak, darker skinned after the abyss, hence "tanned." While this sort of thing might have issues of its own, that's also not the topic of this post, and as a light-skinned Asian person, I don't feel particularly qualified to talk about it.

In truth, deep down, Bing-ge’s fair and clean pretty-boy type didn’t really suit the tastes of “Great Master” Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky.... The art of growing stallions was grounded in science, and the research was clear: women preferred men who looked cultured, pretty, and even a bit soft and feminine. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

The buff and bulky Luo Binghe often seen in fanworks is not what I would consider to be cultured, pretty, soft, and feminine.

Luo Binghe is described this way just before the conference:

A seventeen-year-old youth, slim and tall and graceful, dressed in white robes, lips turned upward in the hint of a smile, gazed at him with a pair of shining eyes. (7 Seas, Ch. 4)

And again after his return:

The other party was a little taller than [Shen Qingqiu], slender and willowy, dressed in clothes as black as ink that exposed only a fair neck.  (7 Seas, Ch. 7)

And a description of his hands later on:

That hand was slender and unadorned. It didn’t look like the hand of a young lord of the demon race who had already taken countless lives, but rather one whose master had been born to pluck strings, his hand to burn incense and bathe in snow. (7 Seas, Ch. 14)

Consistantly, Luo Binghe is depicted this way-- slender and refined, with fair skin and a softness to his appearance that contradicts his actions.

Furthermore, Luo Binghe is also described as looking very similar to his mother:

Luo Binghe was beautiful, and he looked quite like his birth mother. (7 Seas, Ch. 4)

and

Yue Qingyuan’s knuckles slowly brushed along Xuan Su’s hilt. “I was able to meet Senior Su Xiyan once at an Immortal Alliance Conference, many years ago. Luo Binghe’s appearance is seven-tenths identical to his mother’s.  (7 Seas, Ch. 18)

As for Su Xiyan's appearance, not much is directly stated-- it can be inferred that she likewise looked quite similar to Luo Binghe, but the only description of her physical appearance that we have is found here:

Even if she wasn’t burly and heavyset, she should at least look like a martial arts master with fierce and ferocious eyes. For all that, when he finally met the culprit behind Tianlang-Jun’s bout of philosophical soul-searching, which had tormented Zhuzhi-Lang for many days, he realized that the culprit in question was not quite like what he’d envisioned... ... Just as these two tourists were standing penniless in the street, a tall woman dressed in black strolled by, sword on her back. (7 Seas, Ch. 25)

The only positive descriptor here is that she is tall, but it can also be implied that she does not have the appearance of a martial arts master, and did not look as fierce and ferocious as Zhuzhi-lang expected, especially in terms of her eyes. However, she is described as a cold person-- whether or not that carried over into her appearance, though, is up for debate.

Su Xiyan's eyes are another matter for discussion--

In appearance, Luo Binghe resembled his mother Su Xiyan, but you could more or less see the shadow of his father in him. For example, in the eyes. Tianlang-Jun’s eyes were deep-set, his brow strong and heroic, the irises dark like fathomless water. In this, he and Luo Binghe were very much alike. Luo Binghe had a pretty boy appearance in the first place, but if his eyes had resembled his mother’s too, his face would have been excessively feminine and the effect would be lost. (7 Seas, Ch. 15)

Here, specifically, Luo Binghe is noted as having his father's strong brow and deep-set eyes, as opposed to his mothers, which based on this passage were most likely to be round, soft, and "feminine"-looking. It's also interesting to see that if not for having his father's eyes, Luo Binghe's features would be "excessively feminine," therefore implying that the softer look applies to all parts of his face except for his eyes and brows.

(thanks to @furbygoblinxiv , @bijoumikhawal for bringing up this point)

So, Luo Binghe is a lithe and petite pretty-boy. Nonetheless, he is still notably muscular. Specifically with a surprising amount of lean muscle-- something that Shen Qingqiu actually remarks on:

Luo Binghe was on top, and Shen Qingqiu was on the bottom, so he was smushed under a considerable weight and almost unable to draw another breath. What had this child been eating?! He looked quite slim, so how was he this heavy?! ... A person’s abdomen is supposed to be the softest spot on their body, but Luo Binghe’s was uncomfortably hard against Shen Qingqiu’s stomach. The farther down he pulled him, the more he was sure that Luo Binghe had an eight-pack. Was that a rock slab down there? (7 Seas, Ch. 16)

(thanks to @verycharismaticdragon for bringing up this point)

As for where the fan depiction of buff, tanned, "hyper-masculine" Luo Binghe may have originated?

I'm not certain where the first such depiction came from, but as for the logic behind it, such phenomena could be explained as thinking of Luo Binghe, the stallion protagonist, as having an "ideal masculine" appearance.

For western audiences and beauty standards, this would certainly be that same sort of muscular, tall, with tanned skin and defined features. Naturally, when first thinking of what a "stereotype of an ideal man" would look like, these traits would come to mind to a western audience.

It is a bit different in eastern standards. While muscular appearances can still be favored, lean muscle is vastly, vastly preferred over bulky muscle, and fair skin, which represents elegance and status (as those with fair skin tones are perceived as those who are wealthy, and do not need to work outdoors) is preferred over tanned skin. This is, of course, a generalization-- but as a representation of ideal masculinity, Luo Binghe's appearance would also be a generalization.

Particularly, Luo Binghe's figure and appearance is described not as those favored by men for themselves, but as those favored aesthetically by women. Therefore, that gentle, refined appearance is a must.

While western vs eastern beauty standards may play a role in this, it is also possible that western vs eastern character design standards may also be coming into play. While in eastern character design, things such as color and style of clothing and hair play a very large role in creating visual contrast, in terms of western designs, body shape and style, along with hair shape and style, seem to be far more important, with the idea that a character should be recognizable by silhouette alone. This may lead to western-trained artists, and also those who grew up watching primarily western cartoons, unconsciously applying those same standards to their own design-- such as making Luo Binghe broader-shouldered and with rounder shapes, the "heroic" type character design, in contrast to sharper, narrower shapes for Shen Qingqiu, the "villain" type character design.

(thanks to @gaywarcriminals , @mu-qingfang-stan-account , @temporoom for bringing up this explanation)

One additional possible reason would be the potential for heteronormative/"het-coding" standards being applied to a gay relationship, where the gong is being given more "traditionally masculine" features in order to align with gender roles. This is something that is fairly common in BL/MLM shipping and designs in general, so it wouldn't be unreasonable to think that it might apply in some fashion to Luo Binghe's fan-design as well (Note, this does not apply to actual fem/masc mlm pairs, because those do exist and it isn't always about heteronormativity. This is specifically referring to taking characters with roughly similar build like SQQ and LBH and making their designs distinctly more masc/fem based on who tops and who bottoms).

(thanks to @mysteryteacup and @gurggggleburgle for bringing this up)

As for the true source of these design elements, it probably cannot be narrowed down to just one-- rather, it would be an amalgamation of bits and pieces of all of the above, as well as the popularity and spread of certain designs throughout the fandom and artists taking inspiration from one another.

So often i've seen that Luo Binghe's bulk and muscles are shown as key traits of his physical appearance, despite the fact that this directly contradicts his actual depiction in the novel. Thus, it is inaccurate to depict him this way.

Luo Binghe's canonical body type and build is tall, slender, and willowy with lean musculature, and his features are soft and a bit effeminate. The best example I could give for reference would be to base his body type off of a pretty-boy type idol.

Of course, fanartists are perfectly free to continue drawing him however they please, but it should not be assumed that a Luo Binghe with bulky musculature, tanned skin, and sharp features is a canon-compliant depiction.

Luo Binghe is a pretty-boy.

[yaksha-lover]

TWST x ASOIAF/Medieval AU

Introduction (Part 1)

this au will center around seven different kingdoms, with one representing each dorm. the stories for each kingdom all happen in the same universe, and thus the reader is a different ‘character’ in each part

cw: arranged marriages, political hostages, slightly yandere in malleus’ part, gn!reader

Kingdom #1 - Queendom of Roses

Riddle Rosehearts is the crown prince of this kingdom, with his mother being the current ruling monarch.

You are from another prominent noble family. There have been discussions of a potential arranged marriage to unite the two families, and so you are sent to live in Riddle’s castle to see if this deal can be made.

Riddle is initially internally opposed to the idea of being in an arranged marriage, but as he gets to know you, he begins to realize that the world he’s grown up in - full of rules and empty of care - is far from what he could have with you.

Unfortunately, Riddle’s mother quickly becomes opposed to your union, seeing it as you attempting to change Riddle and pulling him away from her and their ‘perfectly good’ way of life.

It will be a challenge for the two of you, forced to try and convince his mother to still let you marry, while helping Riddle break free from the restrictive life he’s been forced to live.

Kingdom #2 - Sunset Savanna

Leona Kingscholar, the second prince of the kingdom of Sunset Savanna, has studied and worked his entire life to be the best version of himself. A great leader, a strong swordsman, someone politically astute and aware of more than what goes on in his own castle.

Still, no matter what Leona does, he has practically no way to use his skills to better the Sunset Savanna. His brother, the king, has offered him positions on the high council, but his advice is hardly taken seriously.

Practically resigning himself to live a meaningless life, Leona is suddenly faced with a choice when you come to the Sunset Savanna to offer your hand in marriage.

The future heir to the royal kingdom of the Shaftlands, you’re looking to form a strong alliance between your family and Leona’s.

Leona has, so far, resisted any of his brother’s attempts to set up marriages for him, and so Falena thinks it will be the same. He finds himself suprised when Leona accepts your offer.

By marrying into your kingdom, Leona will become the prince consort, and you’ve promised him actual power and influence. The two of you will govern your kingdom together, and Leona will finally be able to do something with his talents.

The fact that you and Leona were once childhood friends certainly helped in his decision to agree as well. Now that you’ve both grown up, Leona is eager to rekindle your relationship. However, he’s up for a challenge when he realizes you aren’t exactly the agreeable child you once were.

Kingdom #3 - Coral Sea

Azul is a famous travelling merchant, known for his ability to grant practically any wish - at a cost, of course.

When you make a deal with him to save your younger sibling, and find yourself unable to hold up your end of the contract, the fine print comes into play: you’ll have to serve as his assistant and travel with him across the seven kingdoms.

Unfortunately, the mask of Azul’s benevolence seems to decay before your eyes, as he forces you to uptake all sorts of demeaning tasks.

However, you find the mask of his charm slipping off just as fast. The real Azul is hardly as confident as he presents, and you think this may finally be your opportunity to take advantage of a flaw and escape this situation - then you start to feel bad.

For the rather strategic and unfeeling side you’ve seen of Azul, returning to his home kingdom of the Coral Sea, you begin to realize by the way he’s treated that his demeanour may be more reactionary than you first believed.

For better or for worse, the two of you are forced to become a team when an unruly customer begins to hunt the both of you down. The two of you escape the kingdom together, but it won’t be long before you’ll have to go on the run again.

‘Partner in crime’ wasn’t exactly on the job (contract) description, but Azul is lucky that you’ve grown fond of him.

Kingdom #4 - Scalding Sands

Kalim is the prince of the Scalding Sands, with Jamil as his retainer.

You are sent by your family to marry Kalim, but it’s Jamil that seems to capture your interest more.

You wed Kalim, but the feelings between you and Jamil boil over until you begin a secret relationship.

Both of you are hesitant - if anyone were to find out, Jamil and his family would suffer endlessly, and you would lose your status, being disowned by your family.

Things only become more confusing after you begin to see Kalim in a different light, thinking that perhaps you sized him up too quickly.

However, Kalim may be less oblivious than you and Jamil both realize, and he may be more okay with the two of you than you think.

While things may still be dangerous if anyone were to find out, things are certainly much easier with the three of you to cover up any rumours.

The relationship between Jamil and Kalim even improves as a result - you come to get Jamil to have a more kindly outlook of Kalim, while being able to make Kalim more aware of Jamil’s needs so he doesn’t continue to be overlooked.

The three of you still have lots of work to do, but as the future of this kingdom, you hope Kalim will do well with both yourself and Jamil behind him.

Kingdom #5 - Shaftlands

Vil Schoenheit is the son of a prominent noble family in the shaftlands.

Known as the ‘Knight of Oleander,’ Vil is famous for both his swordsmanship and his great beauty.

Due to his family’s involvement in a current political skirmish, Vil is taken as a very valuable political hostage.

You are a knight who works for the side that has taken Vil hostage.

You are eventually told to take him and travel back to his family, in order to try and come to a resolution of this conflict.

Vil is eager to escape and get back himself, so that his family will not have to give in to the demands necessary to get him back.

The two of you seem to fight and bicker every second of the trip back, but when it becomes dangerous for the both of you, you’ll both end up seeing a different side of each other.

While Vil has tried to take advantage of your insecurity and the fact that you are often made fun of by the others for your looks to escape, he begins to see a different, attractive side when he sees how truly good you are, so different from the other knights he has met.

Conversely, you’ve only ever thought of Vil as a shallow noble, unable to understand what it’s like to be imperfect in any way. When his beauty is taken away and he feels like he’s left with nothing else, you teach him that he’s so much more than his looks.

If you’re a asoiaf fan, Vil will have a similar story/character arc to Jaime, with dynamic with the reader being that of Jaime/Brienne.

Kingdom #6 - Island of Woe

Idia’s family are nobles who have been outcasted from the main kingdoms because of their perceived threat and treachery.

Idia is sent as a political hostage to stay as the ward of the reigning noble family of the Island of Woe, in order to prove his family’s loyalty and rejoin the rest of the kingdoms.

You are the child of the reigning family, and the one who helps him adapt to his new circumstances as best as possible.

You know he’s hardly responsible for his family’s problems, and you want to lessen Idia’s suffering as much as possible.

When others in your kingdom begin to harass Idia for being a ‘traitor,’ you impulsively decide to announce your marriage to him, making him royalty and therefore practically untouchable to others (unless they are willing to face severe punishment from the royal family).

Idia, while somewhat thankful for your help, is less than thrilled with this development. He’s going to be a royal? Don’t you know what kind of responsibility this means for him? Why would you force him into the spotlight like this?

Even more than that, Idia knows, no matter how sympathetic, you still believe the narrative set by your family that the Shroud family did betray the kingdom, when that’s far from the truth.

When he confronts you with this, you become frustrated with him, stuck in between the truth and the lie your otherwise kind family has always told you.

Neither of you are able to give up loyalty to your families, and this makes for a very difficult marriage indeed.

Kingdom #7 - Briar Valley

Malleus, the future ruler of the most powerful of all the kingdoms, has nobles travelling to Briar Valley from all over the world to ask for his hand in marriage.

To the annoyance of his grandmother, he turns down every proposal. Partially because he knows they only wish for his throne, that they do not know him nor do they really care to…and partially because of you.

You are part of his Kingsguard, alongside Silver and Sebek, trained in both swordsmanship and magic to keep him safe at all costs.

Unlike your fellow knights, you actually approach and converse with him. Perhaps foolishly, if he’s being honest. You would hardly have known his temper beforehand; many think him to be cold and quite scary.

You already spent time around him when it was your rotation to guard his current whereabouts instead of the castle perimeter, but you begin to do so even more when he requests that you stay on this rotation.

Flattered and thankful, you remain oblivious to the true reason Malleus desires you close to him at all times. It would be unthinkable for anyone of your station to believe that Malleus would have any kind of romantic interest in you.

Thus, you continue to remain unconvinced of the prince’s casual touches, of the way he favours you above all his other guards.

When you begin to reciprocate his feelings but believe them to surely be unrequited, you request to be dismissed from his service, it being unprofessional and too difficult to continue with your love for him.

Malleus, also unaware of your feelings, takes this as you trying to escape him. He knows you’re confused but in time you’ll see; he’ll take care of you, just like he’s always wanted.

You just need to stay in the dungeon until you’ve gotten over this little tantrum of yours. He keeps your cell decorated with luxuries and comfort that you’d never experienced in your time as one of his guards, not wanting you to suffer unnecessarily.

When you wisen up and decide to be his, all will be well again - but you won’t be returning to your previous position.

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

''Fight and Die'' Slightly darkAemond x AFAB Reader

Aemond x fem oc/reader

Tags: Show setting, abusive brother (but its not aemond) mentioned of forced marriages and duels, mentions of parental loss.

🔷Summary: Your ancestors once betrayed the Targaryens and paid a high price. Now you are back at court with your brother, who hopes to sell you in exchange for his freedom.

🔷Author's note: It might still be a little darkish but not as dark as usual. I think this is the closest to show aemond I ever got. So he still is not a unicorn yall but he is at least imo he is decent and nice.

🔷Wordcount :3934

You never set foot in King’s Landing before.

Not before the exile of your family almost a century ago.

The Marthryralys were once the most trusted advisors of the Targaryens. 

Until your ancestor, Daeyor Marthyralys sided with the false king, King Maegor. He had been burned after Maegor had died, and your family was banished out of King’s Landing, and the Seven Kingdoms. 

For years you lived across the narrow sea, in a small village in Pentos together with your brother and the heir of your house, Prince Fryand Marthyralys. He has everything you can expect in a trueborn Valyrian prince. Silver hair, bright eyes in a shade almost close to violet and a temper befitting a god, not an exiled prince.

‘’Chin up, sister.’’ He tells you with a smirk as you pass by several nobles and guards, servants and maids alike who all stare at you with judgment. They likely heard stories about your family. Stories of their treason and kinslaying murder and pillaging. ‘’Remember what I told you earlier this morning. Today is the day our family’s legacy will be reborn.’’ That is what he hopes. You hope your brother achieves this alliance. For as long as you can recall he wanted this.

Fyrand sighs before perfecting your hair, putting a loose lock behind your ears. “You be quiet unless I allow it. If you ruin this for me, the consequences could be dire. For both of us, but especially for you.” The glare he gives you says enough. You give an absent nod, staring at your own bitten down fingernails. Fyrand follows your gaze, scoffing with a deep sigh. ‘’And quit that. I didn’t keep you alive all these years so you can fuck this up.’’

The grant doors to the throne room are opened by guards and someone announces to you both as you hesitantly follow your brother. ‘’Lord Fyrand of House Marthyralys, and his sister, Lady Revaera of House Marthyralys.’’ It is one of the few times you hear yourself being called a lady, or even your first name. Fyrand does not bother with kindness and ceremony. He calls you whatever he likes, especially when he is drunk and in a bad mood.

By the throne, several people with silver hair wait. Yet you can easily divide them into two groups. One group wears subtle or not so subtle green accessories. And the other group wears about any other color but green. The Princess's party and the Queen's party. You know this from what Fyrand briefly told you about the Targaryens. The two parties do not like each other very much. Details are vague to you, as Fyrand didn’t want ‘’to corrupt your moral compass with nonsense that is none of your business anyway’’.

You know they are the royal family of Westeros. The Targaryens. Once close friends of your family, now look at you both. You do not know these people and they do not know you. They stare at you with the same confusion and questions you have deep down. You see it mirrored in their eyes and their hearts they carry on their sleeves. You keep your eyes on your soft slippers and faithfully remain close to your brother, afraid of these strange people. They killed your parents. They killed your ancestors. They killed your dragons. ‘’Your grace.’’ Fyrand speaks, full of servitude as he bows down for the silver haired corpse like man that sits the throne.

Or rather the throne sits him. The throne is a monstrosity in the worst way of the word. It does not look like a comfortable chair to you. Perhaps that is what it symbolizes. That ruling is no comfortable chair. It is not easy. It requires sacrifice, usually the worst kind. The kind where lives are lost and doomed.

The smell of poppy is heavy near the king and you assume he uses it regularly to dull his pain. He hangs half defeated, half consumed by the Stranger on his throne, his glare growing every minute that passes when you both are here. You continue ripping your nails subtly. 

‘’We let traitors in now?’’ A man comments, near who you assume can only be the Princess Rhaenyra. She is described as the most fashionable woman in Westeros, with silver, pale locks she often carries in Targaryen fashion. Her gown symbolizes a dragon, with her house colors, red and black. It has nice details and you take them all in. The man itself has shorter hair than his wife, although Fyrand would say it would still be too long for a male. He carries a sword around his hips, and wears a black armor as well. You guess by his age that this can only be Prince Daemon Targaryen, the King’s brother, the Princess’s her uncle as well as her husband. ‘’These two should be hanged outside and for the birds to peck out their eyes.’’

While you feel fear rise Fyrand laughs it off, as a joke.  The king is not so quick to judge you as his brother. He even smiles at you. ‘’You are the spitting image of your ancestor, Grysalda the Bold.’’ Out of both of you, he chose you to compliment.

Your brother boils in his skin next to you, yet fakes a smile and peacefulness.  ‘’Both fierce and stunning.’’ The King finishes. Grysalda was indeed both fierce and bold. She had a total of five husbands and flew the dragon Gravemaker. There was nothing she couldn't do if she didn't set her mind to it. She was said to be a great beauty. Men fought wars to lay eyes on her, Men conquered towns in her name and men would murder everyone that dared to oppose her. She was an interesting woman, although it is disputed whether or not she was a good one.

You make a small curtsy, swayed by the words yet wary of their meaning. Grysalda was a threat to the Targaryens. Is this a compliment or a very twisted warning? But to not acknowledge such a compliment would be rude. ‘’Thank you, your grace-’’ 

‘’Be quiet, sister.’’ Fyrand interrupts almost mumbling so the others won't hear. You close your mouth right away and let him speak instead. ‘’I have come with an offer for House Targaryen and House Velyaron.” He folds his hands on his back. You wonder if his offer is good enough for an alliance. You know what he will offer. You. He will offer you to one of the Princes of either party and he hopes that in return they will allow him to stay in Westeros.

Prior to this offer, no interest was shown by both parties. This changes instantly. Princess Rhaenyra turns into a woman dressed in Velyaron colors. Princess Rhaenys, you assume. Her granddaughters look on as well and even the Greens on the Queens side are surprised.

King Viserys sits up as straight as his sickness allows him. “You are bold.” You hear your brother laugh. You do not join him, your eyes constantly wandering to the interesting people around you. The princes and the princesses, the Queen and the King and their children.

‘’It is in our blood, I’ve been told by my lovely servants.’’ You think back of all the servants that nurtured you and Fryand when you were safely in Pentos and beyond. You are thankful for them, but there was only so much they could do to protect you from Fyrand. ‘’Since you ordered the death of my parents all those years ago.” Fryand smirks hiding the pain very well. The light in his eyes has died a long time ago. Nothing can bring it back.

The only sound that can be heard is Otto Hightower clearing his throat. “Are you here to dig up the past? I seem to recall your parents were planning my death.’’ The king is right. They were. You were almost a baby when the treason was committed but it was committed nonetheless. Your own mother died in childbirth and your father remarried quickly almost the day after.

You have known your brother for a long time. He is a dramatic man. He enjoys having power and enjoys playing with people. He will not tell them right away. He will toy with them first. ‘’I’m here for no such thing.’’ 

The Princess looks at you, as if you know more of this masterplan. You do, but you do not dare to speak again. ‘’I am here to ally my house with House Targaryen.’’ And with that, he hopes to restore your family’s legacy. All those years of planning in exile, all those years on the run all come down to this crucial moment. Was it enough? Or will you both hang before the sun sets?

‘’And why would we ally you?’’ The King asks, which is reasonable. They have dragons. You do not. They have a kingdom. You do not. You only have a freshly gathered army with questionable loyalties as they fight for gold and power.

Fyrand grins. ‘’It’s quite simple. I have built quite the legendary army, across the Narrow sea, in the Stepstones and far far beyond. Men are calling me Aegon reborn.’’ He grins at Prince Aegon, taunting him with this accomplishment. Aegon does not care, judging by his empty eyes and smile. 

You glance at your brother, giving him a clear look that warns him of the path he is rolling down from. He should not forget you two are both hostages until you can prove you are worthy of this alliance. To make him sound like their beloved ancestor is a mistake, you just know so. 

The king agrees with that as well, sitting up straighter and putting his crown back on his head when it slips. ‘’So you have come to threaten us?’’ 

You pull your nails faster, running out of your left hand. Fyrand chuckles but you can hear he has become nervous too. ‘’Your grace, no! Most certainly not. I came to a conclusion. I could destroy you all, but the chance you all yet survive because of your dragons is …too big for my liking. Why not forget about the past, why not let bygones be bygones. We should ally.’’ He says. 

‘’Bygones be bygones.’’ Viserys repeats after your brother. ‘’And how will I know I can trust your word, if you already have began expanding your army?’’ Even more wary grows and dread fills your stomach. You can already see yourself hanging.

Fyrand gives you a small nod and you step forward, your hands neatly folded on one another as you look around the court for any kind face. But everyone looks at you like you are a traitor. It doesn't matter to anyone that you were a baby when the assassination attempts happened. They think you are just as guilty. ‘’I have brought my sister with me. My pure blooded Valyrian sister. She can stay here as a hostage, perhaps even marry one of your sons or grandsons. There is no need to have her wither away.’’ 

The king rubs at his forehead as if a great pain plagues him. ‘’I do not have time for this.’’ He speaks. You and Fyrand both freeze. He is not even considering your offer. ‘’Escort them to the dungeons.’’ He adds. Fyrand is surrounded within mere moments. 

At first he couldn't believe it. ‘’What?’’ He can’t believe his plan didn’t work. And then the rage you know so well returns. He glares at you as if this is somehow your fault. 

You understand you must act fast. So you do. ‘’Y-Your grace! Wait. One moment…’’ You search in the basket one of your servants brought with you. Fyrand glares, at first annoyed that you search your sewing basket. A few men chuckle as well. 

‘’Is she going to knit her way out of this?’’

You put the wool and spools on the ground, searching deeper in the basket until you feel something cold, something hard and something ancient. You lift it from the basket, presenting it to all witnesses in court. In your hands is a familiar dragon egg. The king blinks with his eyes.

‘’Please, do not harm him. He has all I have left.’’ You add with a soft whisper.

‘’We found a chest full of dragon eggs in Pentos.’’ You hope you do not regret this. Fyrand makes a strangled little sound, briefly causing most heads to snap to him, back to the egg in your hands.

Prince Daemon draws his sword. ‘’Likely dead.’’ They might be. Most might be. Some eggs are centuries old, stolen during the time of Maelor.

You are facing certain death and so is your brother. You do not need this now. ‘’We did not have the resources to try to hatch them. We are no Targaryens.’’ You snap at him. ‘’We were lucky if we could find shelter for the night.’’ 

‘’How many eggs do you speak of?’’ The king asks. You did hope he would be interested. He is interested in dragon eggs. What fool wouldn’t be? You glance at your brother. He shakes his head rapidly.

Yet you go through with your plan. You must.

‘’At least seven and twenty.’’

Several gasps can be heard in the room.

Queen Alicent looks at the egg. ‘’’How did they even got there?’’ She wonders out loud.

A shout sends shivers down your spine. It belongs to your brother.

‘’I warn you, Revaera!’’ He thinks he is the only one who can make sacrifices. You will show him. 

You can either lie and be executed or tell the truth and meet your gods with a true soul.

‘’They were stolen from the cradles of Targaryen babies.’’ You reveal, your head hung in shame with the crimes of your ancestors. Queen Alicent instantly turns her head to a young man on her side, wearing an eyepatch. Even from where you stand you can make out the scars that he likely tries to hide. Princess Rhaenyra, although she may hide it, also glances at the young man, her face full of regret and what could have been.

It is true. For centuries your family stole eggs from the Targaryens, replacing well working eggs with eggs that aren’t working eggs at all. Just stone and clay. You walk to the iron throne, presenting the egg to the king. ‘’This egg, I brought for you, my King. It was stolen a few years ago. It was said to belong to Prince Baelon.’’ You know he died shortly after birth but it is clear that the king has never forgotten his first born son.

His eyes light up in ways you never saw before, as you hand the egg over.

‘’This is impossible. The egg is still here. It is in my room.’’ The Queen lets out a soft but painful sigh as if she tried for years to close a door that is now pushed open wildly. You speak. ‘’No, your grace. They were switched. You have likely fake ones.’’ 

‘’After everything I did for you! You dare betray our family?!’’ Fyrand shouts and this time they need to restrain him from attacking you. You back away, terrified of your brother.

‘’They deserve to know! We were robbing babies.’’ You feel like you are betraying your family. But this might be your only chance at survival. You feel tired, alone, terrified and like this can all end in a moment. You have nothing left to do but break into tears.

‘’They are the reason we grew up without parents, without titles, without dragons!’’

You know he is right. And you wish you could do both but you clearly can not. 

From the crowds, a brown haired young man steps forward, carrying the Velyaron colors. The colors of the sea. ‘’Grandsire, may I speak?’’ That must be Jacaerys Velyaron, the Princess’s ‘trueborn’ son with her lover, Harwin Strong.

The king smiles kindly at his grandson, proud that Jacaerys makes the effort.

‘’You already do so, Jacaerys.’’ He subtly looks at his other two sons, who stand by with rage written in their eyes, both green of envy and red of hatred.

Prince Jacaerys looks at your basket, your gown and the silver diadem in your hairs.

‘’We should ally with them.’’ He says. Hope fills your chest as you carefully start to smile.

Although the King loves his grandchildren very much, he will not let them affect his rule.

‘’Interesting. Explain.’’ He says instead, using this as a lesson. Again you notice his other two sons hide their displeasedness but it's so obvious to you.

The heir of the throne continues.

‘’House Targaryen needs more dragons. We can’t risk it that House Marthryralys will search for other allies. Dragons made us kings. Dragons made us strong. We cannot risk for the dragons falling into other hands.’’ You highly doubt that anyone aside a Targaryen could fly with dragons but with the blood thinning over several bloodlines it has become a risk to them.

‘’That is true.’’ The king admits despite the fact that he does not like you or your brother. He can see reason. That is rare for a king. Especially for a Targaryen king if what you heard from your brother is correct.

Prince Jacaerys becomes bashful, blushing a bit when trying to avoid staring too long at you. ‘’And, I think Lady Revaera has proven herself more than loyal to us, providing this information and the dragon egg. In fact, I was hoping you’d let us marry.’’ Marry? You feel new dread fill your chest as the King considers this offer. Even Fyrand has become awfully quiet. You need to turn your head to see if they didn’t knock him out. But no. He is still awake and awfully quiet.

‘’Not so fast.’’ A voice booms, as a shadow brushes past you, making his way to the Iron throne. The one eyed man stands in front of you. You feel threatened right away and gulp. The way he is dressed in all black is intimidating to you. ‘’I have done my fair bit of research into your family, my Lady.’’ You hear your heart beat only louder.

‘’You have?’’ You manage to ask, forcing your hands to stop trembling.

There is a silence in the throne room as everyone listens to what he has to say.

‘’Quite. You have an interesting story. I like interesting stories.’’ What is so interesting, you wouldn’t know. Your story is a tragedy. Perhaps he likes that. Perhaps his own story is a tragedy as well.

He turns to his father, and you briefly admire his long luscious looking silver pure locks that Jace clearly lacks. ‘’There is an old tradition, Grandsire. If an outsider wants to wed a member of the Marthryralys, he must duel a family member of the Lady to prove his worth.’’ That is true, in theory. But Your only family member is Fyrand. They won’t let their heir fight Fyrand.

And so, the king also speaks.

‘’I will not have Jacaerys fight that deranged man.’’ 

Aemond folds his hands on his back, his grin growing ever bigger. ‘’There is also another rule. If the Lady has multiple suitors, her suitors shall also fight for her and prove their worth. The victor shall become her Lord Husband.’’ You become uncomfortable, as you find it a bit of a silly rule, as well as concerning that he knows a awful lot about your family. 

‘’Why is that needed? I want to marry her.’’ Jace bluntly says, laughing a bit to prove how silly he finds these traditions that your house honored for centuries.

Aemond looks at Jacaerys so he can see his face before he reveals what he was planning all along. ‘’Because I am also quite interested in her, Prince Jacaerys.’’ That sends shivers down your spine.

The King is confused. As are you.

‘’You are?’’ 

Instead of addressing his father and his king, he turns to you to give you a kind, almost the ghost of a smile as if he can hear you think and read your confusion that is written across your face. ‘’Hm. A lady as beautiful as you, I’d fight or die for you anyday.’’ Despite these words he almost seems confident he will win this match. 

–

You visit Fyrand later in the dungeons.

‘’So.’’ He speaks as you have removed your hood. ‘’The Princes both seemed quite taken with you. Job well done.’’ He says, sitting up straighter, talking to you in high Valyrian so the guards won’t hear.

‘’They are eager for wives. It’s their age, I think.’’ Boys and men of that age become that way.

Fyrand chuckles as if you said something funny. He knows more about this than you ever will. ‘’Their age has nothing to do with it. They saw the way you played that fossil with that silly little egg of yours. They know their house is a dying one. The dragons become smaller and smaller still.’’ You heard the same, from your spies.

‘’You were clever, to think of it. To tell them the truth about the eggs.’’ You praise your brother, although you were scared in the moments where you acted out his plan. You had to turn off your emotions and believe that Fyrand would face certain death. 

He bows his head in fake humbleness that does not become him in the slightest.

‘’Certainly. I have my moments. I nearly saw Prince Aemond drool when you presented that egg to that corpse.’’ You bet he did.

You become uneasy as you think of the one-eyed prince.

‘’He scares me.’’ You hope it is enough to call off the wedding part of the alliance.

But instead of that your brother’s smile only grows.

‘’Hm. He should. He is much to be scared of, little sister.’’

He leans in closer, his face close to the bars. ‘’There are rumors he tried to kill his own nephew. He is quick to anger, slow to forgive and has the biggest deadliest dragon in the entire world.’’ You hope he is lying. He has to be. He is describing a true monster.

‘’Aemond will win this duel.’’ He adds, as if it's clear.

‘’How are you certain?’’ Perhaps because Aemond is taller or older or something else you do not see?

He laughs as if you again ask a silly question.

‘’Because I saw both him and Jace fight. It won’t be to death, but just so you know: You will become Aemond’s bride.’’

A terrifying prospect. You did not agree to that.

‘’I thought we would pull the plan before that would happen?’’ You ask, your voice scared.

‘’No, little sister no. This is a long time plan. You just focus on keeping and making Aemond a very happy husband, yes?’’ You feel your air cut off at his horrible description. You see Aemond’s hands on your body and his lips near your neck, slightly brushing it when whispering dirty things in your ear. 

Despite that, your body betrays you lie. ‘’Fyr, I’m scared. I do not wish to-’’ You wet your lips, speechless.

Your brother dryly gestures with the stomp that once had a hand attached to it.

‘’We all must make our sacrifices.’’ He says. You feel guilty. He lost his hand trying to get you to safety. He lost it defending the eggs.  He smiles as you silently cry, accepting your fate. ‘’Now go. I bet they are itching to spill each other’s blood.’’

As always with a new story let me know what you thought of it. Comments reblogs likes are welcome but not required. But they do make me smile:)

[voidpetrova]

settle the score — rafe cameron x reader

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, miscommunication trope, slowburn, alcohol consumption, pining, playing hard-to-get, suggestive content, violence depicted — drama, slow romance

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: blood is thicker than water, but the heart wants what it wants. you're a routledge, he'a a cameron, but just because it made sense for your brother and sarah, doesn't mean it'll make sense for you and rafe.

✧.*

life in the outer banks was a delicate dance between the sun and the storms, where secrets washed ashore with the tide, and alliances shifted like the sand beneath your feet. in that coastal chaos, friendships were tested, love was found in unexpected places, and every wave brought a new twist to the story of your lives. paradise on earth, that's what it was.

“history test,” your voice clashed with the peaceful silence that had filled the chateau. you had already made your bed, hours ago. pulling your skirt and tucking it into your uniform, you made a final lap around your home, shaking your brother awake for school. “both of you need to get up, like, yesterday.”

a moan of defeat passed john b's lips as he tossed and turned, as if still drunk. jj, who had been asleep on the couch, was now stirring awake, eyes fluttering open. “good morning to you too, momma.” you rolled your eyes as you bent down, continuously shaking your blood and flesh awake. the previous night had come crashing down faster than any other night—more alcohol, more running, more throwing up. now, you were all running late despite nearing the end of your semester. “okay, shit, i hear you,” john b exclaimed, running a hand through his messy hair.

when you had woken up, the house was a total wreck. it was made a mess, and it was gonna be left a mess. you rolled your eyes as you shot jj a warning look, as if to say, “he's your problem now,” but he wasn't. no matter how protective john b was over you, you were always gonna be his older sister. you played your role all too well, especially once the child welfare agency had paid you a visit—two days after you turned eighteen, which was just a few weeks ago. the minute you could, you signed to be your brother's legal guardian. he could punch all the men in the world for so much as looking at you the wrong way, but you would always be the real protector.

in the twinkie, you spent a minute or so enjoying the silence the morning had to offer. you admired the way the sun's rays shined against the sea, the way the birds chirped in harmony. the silence was beautifully deafening, but terribly short-lived. “shotgun!” you winced at jj's yelling, wondering how he sustained so much energy so early in the morning. with no hesitation, he pulled the door open and tumbled into the seat next to you, offering a wink. “my sister's driving, that's so not fair,” john b huffed as he sat in the back defeatedly.

“can we not do this at seven in the morning?” you practically begged, feeling the headache closing in on you. “nah, gotta get in the mood for today,” jj retorted as he stretched, as if prepping to run a marathon. “i got kicking topper's ass on today's checklist.”

the growing, extensive tension between the two tribes had come to be an exhausting occurence. you didn't mind a lot of kooks, actually. kiara was a kook, but it didn't stop her from being your best friend. she was one of the most down-to-earth people on the island—you had assumed it was a façade before meeting her. sarah cameron wasn't all so terrible, either. you didn't like her the first time she came around, didn't trust her, but you've grown closer over time. you had no positive opinion regarding topper, knowing you and jj had convinced pope to sink his boat for a good reason, even taking a beating from his friends for your brother. he wasn't the worst of them all, though. your main issue was with sarah's older brother.

rafe cameron, who was just a year above you, was truly the cause of all your problems. you tried not to pay him any mind, not in school, not out of school. you so badly wanted to make it seem like he didn't exist, you couldn't resort to violence. you had a reputation to uphold and a brother to take care of, it wasn't worth the risk. he had something directly against you, you knew it. he spent most of his time taunting you, insulting you, cornering you. out of all pogues, it seemed that his issue was with you.

you tried not to pay any mind to it, especially not while you were driving. “no causing shit today, am i clear?” you shot jj a look, earning two hands, rising in defense. “no need to worry, ma, we'll be good.” you met your brother's eyes in the rearview mirror, the worry on your face evident. he tried to make it up to you with a comforting smile, but you weren't buying it.

union academy had a traditional coastal charm. it featured classic architecture with a touch of maritime influence, reflecting the coastal setting around it. the school grounds included a mix of green spaces and typical educational facilities, creating a backdrop that captured the essence of a so-called, safe environment. it would've been safer with a few electricity-prone gates separating the two tribes, but there was no going down that road. if you ignored the hell waiting to break loose, it was a beautiful school.

you stepped out of the twinkie, making sure to lock it once the two boys had stepped out. “hey,” you turned around as john b called out to you. “i promise we won't start any shit today. we'll walk away.” you nodded, despite the disbelief that swelled in your chest. “i trust you, jb. just be careful for me.” he didn't have to respond, pulling you in for a hug. you were all he had, and he was all you had. if it meant you'd be happy, he could resist his urges for a day or so.

once he had departed, you brushed your skirt down and adjusted your hair with a sigh. the school's field was huge, littered with kids who could only either look at you with disgust, or with lust. some of them, despite the disgust they felt, knew they'd do you sober. not even after a cheap beer, just stone cold sober. they also knew it'd be best to keep it to themselves, judging by the way your brother glared at them, almost as if he knew. you ignored it. you tried too, at least. despite all of it, you knew you had lucked out just before reaching the school's main doors.

“can't ignore us forever, princess,” every nerve in your body told you to turn the other cheek, to keep going and continue your streak. “very rude, very pogue-like.”

you didn't want to feed anybody's ego, but you couldn't stop yourself from turning around. to nobody's surprise, you ended up locking eyes with rafe, a smirk painted on his lips. topper stared at the floor, avoiding eye contact due to his past previous encounters with your brother. “ever get bored of it, rafe?” you snapped, a bored look playing on youe features as he towered over you. “put your money where your mouth is and get yourself a new plaything.”

so ready to end the conversation, you broke the eye contact, but rafe had other intentions. “heard you've screwed every kook in the area,” he practically snarled. “seems like you know a lot about money and mouths.” there was no way for you to exit now, and you had passed the point of being nice a while back.

“i must've been taking lessons from your sister,” now, you had the attention of both boys. “you know, the one who gets her back blown out by my brother every other night.”

rafe didn't care about his sister, he cared about his reputation, his status. that's why he was quicker to step into your face, before topper could get the chance to defend his ex-girlfriend. “i wonder what big daddy john would have to say about his daddy handing pussy out to everyone,” you weren't a slut by any means. shit, you've done it once, with someone whom you loved and trusted, and you were sure it wouldn't see the light of day. you were wrong, but didn't care much about it. no one really said anything about it, except rafe. every chance he got. “may as well let us take you for a spin, routledge.”

walk away, all you had to do was walk away. you needed to be the bigger person, you needed to set an example. you needed to think. shit, you've been doing it for as long as you could remember, why was now any different? the people that surrounded the three of you only added to the pressure you were under, but you knew you couldn't fight it. he had hit every spot there was to hit, and you knew he'd hang it over your head for the rest of the week.

your fist had collided with his face faster than you had anticipated. it had happened in a split second, and all you could see was red. you hadn't even noticed how you tucked your fingers in skillfully, let alone how hard the hit truly was. rafe's head fell back as he stumbled, practically falling onto the floor. he didn't have time to collect himself, not while your head had blocked out, not only the way the crowd screamed in approval, but your thoughts. you weren't thinking, not while you had dropped down, sinking onto his lower body, wrapping your hands around his throat. you applied pressure, more than enough to shut him up for good. his eyes widened as he wheezed, his hands tapping at your arms vigorously.

“let him go, holy shit,” topper tried to pull you off, only leading to further thrashing that pushed him back. you continued, your eyes boring into rafe's and, for a second only, you swore the darkness had disappeared. you had no time to read what he was feeling, not while another pair of arms met your waist, pulling you off. rafe gasped for air, fingertips tracing his throat as he coughed.

you thrashed aggressively, your vision blurry as you practically begged to be let go. none of the consequences mattered in that moment. once you had turned around, still thrashing, you were met with jj, who was doing his best to contain you. “sorry, cupcake. just doing what you're brother asked me to.” you yelped as he practically threw you over his shoulder. he turned around, and you had, once again, met rafe's refreshingly dark glare.

“yeah, get the slut out of here,” he practically spat, and it didn't take long for the trigger to click. “try not to fuck her again while you're at it.”

you turned against jj's shoulders, watching the way his breathing deepened. “don't do it, jayj. don't you do it.” there always came a point where you wondered why you even tried, and this was one of those times. you knew that once your body had fallen onto the floor with a thud, exhaling a sigh of defeat as you rolled your eyes.

the principal's office wasn't exactly a foreign place for you, but that didn't necessarily mean all of your experiences were negative. the same couldn't be said for your current one. you knew you had made a mistake the minute it was all over with. you were sat in between rafe and jj, directly across the principal's seat as you waited for his arrival.

you toyed with your fingers impatiently, practically in touch with the way rafe stared at you from the side. for a second, you met his eyes, regret clounding your vision because you knew what was waiting for you. “tell your boyfriend to get you a leash,” he hissed, but you didn't say anything. you didn't have to. “you better watch it, asshole,” jj finally snapped, standing on his feet once more. he was nothing of the sort to you, rafe knew it. everyone did.

“you best take your seat, mister maybank,” boomed the voice of your principal as he walked into the office. he shut the door behind him as he took his seat, along with jj. “you all really love making issues out of nothing, don't you?”

rafe scoffed, “i wouldn't really call assault nothing.” the side of his face you had struck was bruised, along with his throat. jj hadn't done much damage, due to the principal and secretary's appearances mid-situation. he shrugged, “what'd you do to provoke her, mister cameron?” rafe ignored the question, tongue wetting his lip as he laughed dryly.

finally, the principal re-directed his attention, eyes scanning the bruised littered across the knuckles on your right hand. “as for you, miss routledge—you've really done it this time,” once again, for what felt like the hundredth time, you could feel rafe's eyes on you. “school grounds, miss routledge. assault. you'll be faced with suspension. if mister cameron decides to press charges, expulsion. your brother, and i hate to bring this up, will be taken from your care, and best believe that child protective services will get him in no time.”

rafe's expression softened at the principal's words, something you had failed to notice as you stared at the principal in shock. “this ain't right, this isn't fucking fair—” jj was cut off almost immediately. “mister maybank, please,” you couldn't believe it. it was exactly what you had been warning john b and jj about. not to start any fights, not to cause any trouble. everything was at stake, your family was at stake. “it's a handful, isn't it, miss routledge? school, working a job, being a full-time guardian. unfortunately, this is out of my hands.” silence, it was all you could respond with.

rafe analyzed you with watchful eyes, too focused on you to take jj's glare into consideration. he felt for you, for your situation. he had no idea you had taken on such responsibilities. “i'm not gonna press charges,” he announced, finally. jj's glare had settled as the three of you looked at him in shock. “what? let the whole world know she beat my ass?” you remained quiet, while his eyes remained on you.

“very well, then,” the principal cleared his throat. “a three-day suspension seems adequate, no?”

it was just like rafe to watch out for nobody but himself, his status. his reputation. it was how he chose to be perceived. he wasn't gonna go around pressing charges, adding fuel to your already blazing fire. not anytime soon, anyway. just like how he wasn't gonna let anyone know that he was pulling away for your sake. you couldn't look him in the eye, even while leaving the office.

“are you really his guardian?” he leaned against the wall that surrounded the empry hallway. you hesitated with your answer, “of course i am, i'm all he has. he's all i have,” you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “thanks for not pressing charges, i'm sorry about everything.” he chuckled as you gestured toward the bruise on his jaw.

“it's not exactly like i didn't deserve it,” in that moment, he watched you openly. this time, you were aware of it. perhaps, in that very moment, he didn't see you as a pogue. he saw you as a girl. a very pretty one, at that. “some right hook you've got, take lessons?” it was the nicest thing he's said to you, really. you opened your mouth, ready to respond, and your smile didn't go unnoticed. unfortunately, you never got to finish.

“get the fuck away from her.” in a second, your brother was pulling you away from him, standing in your place, now face-to-face with him.

with a huff, you revived the distance between them as you stepped in front of rafe. “leave him be, jb. he's not pressing charges, it's my fault.” your brother's eyes finally locked onto yours, “after begging us not to start any shit, you go after rafe?” he had a point, you had done the complete opposite of what you'd begged them.

“i apologized, just listen to me,” you begged. “rafe was nice enough not to press charges, that's all there is to it.”

he nodded in agreement, “no pogue is worth my time,” the asshole you had grown used to had made another appearance, yet you couldn't help but wonder where the side you had just met had wandered off to. “especially her.” you held onto john b's wrist, squeezing as if begging him silently to stay quiet.

when he had dragged you away, he forgot to drag your backpack away with him. by the time rafe had realized you had left it behind, slouching on the floor next to his foot, you were long gone. he sighed, rolling his eyes as he tossed it over his shoulder, groaning at the unimaginable weight of it. “so that's how she does it, huh?” he couldn't help but smile at the thought. quickly, he made a mental note to stop by the chateau and drop your bag by the same night.

“i can't believe i forgot my shit,” back at the chateau, you were panicking. john b had gone out with the others, leaving you and jj back at the house. “he's gonna burn it, i just know it.” jj sat on the sofa as you paced around the room, offering you a freshly-cracked open beer. “you really need to calm down, he's not gonna do shit after that blow.”

you rolled your eyes at the remark, but finally stopped in your tracks as you stared out the window. the night was black, the only light illuminating the outside and inside world being the light coming from your living room light. “don't know why he hates me so much,” you let out a sigh as you stared into your own reflection in the window. as you did so, you watched jj walk up to you, his front pressing into your backside, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you in.

“only 'cause you're everything he's not,” you sighed as your heartbeat finally began to settle, your body melting against jj's touch. “'cause you won't let him hit, that too.” everything you and jj had was purely physical, and you kept the pogue-on-pogue macking a secret. you had hooked up once, which was made known, and it didn't end well. it was the point where rafe had begun to openly hate you, and the point john b had to be held down by three of his companions from killing his best friend.

he pushed your hair to the side as you tilted your head, allowing him all the access he needed as his lips latched onto your neck. “jayj,” you whimpered, eyes fluttering shut as he placed sweet, feather-like kisses down your neck, going as far as the angle allowed him. “john b's gonna be here soon, anyone could see us.”

it was like talking to a wall. he hummed, uncaring, as he brought one of his hands up to your breasts, clothed by nothing but a sheer tank top. he gave one a gentle squeeze while he brought his other hand down to your short, pulling them down with ease. he turned you around to face him, towering over you as his hungry eyes bore holes into yours. “you really want me to stop?” he didn't even have to ask, he already knew the answer. you shook your head. “then, take that top off for me, cupcake.”

from the inside, there was no one that could see you, let alone stop you. from the outside, as the light illuminated your figure, anyone could, but not just anyone did. rafe had come by, as he had promised himself, with your backpack slung over his shoulder. only, he really wished he hadn't. he didn't know what to feel as he stood in front of the window of the chateau, the bright lights having caught his attention.

it felt wrong to watch, and he took no pleasure in it. he watched the way jj had you, the way your face scrunched with pleasure while he touched you. by the time it had grown to be too much to watch, he peeled his eyes off the sight, tossing your bag onto the ground as hard as he could. “motherfucker,” he practically shouted, kicking the bag onto the porch, heel digging into one of the pouches. it was the last thing he did before storming off.

the following day, you had woken up to the sound of explicit shouts. it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but it was still a cause for concern. thankfully, you had woken up in the comfort of your own bed, fully clothed, despite last night's lingering activities and upcoming headache. your eyes fluttered open as kiara and pope rushed into your room. “you really gotta see this,” kie's tone was filled with worry, a slight edge to it as you forced yourself to become conscious. your hair was a mess, top on backwards, but you still obliged.

john b and jj stood on the front porch of the chateau. at first, you couldn't see anything, hands aggressively rubbing your eyes as the sun kept your vision at a minimum. once you had a clearer view, you knew you were fully awake, eyes widening at the sight. “holy shit,” you gasped out, wanting to come closer, but jj stuck his arm out, preventing you from going any further.

the entire yard had been trashed. the hammock had been littered with scattered books and loose papers, alongside the boat, the driveway, the steps. all trashed and stained with school items. one of the window's covers had been torn off, along with the generator's latch next to the door. the bushes planted alongside the perimeter—all trashed, as if somebody had stomped on

“do we even have to ask who did this?” pope inquired, watching the way your hand came over your mouth. “of course not,” kiara responded, taking a few steps of her own. “but what's with all the books and shit?” you had come to a realization of your own as you pushed past jj's grip, walking towards what you believed was the source of your issues, laying flat on the ground.

you had recognized the backpack the minute you were called out to the porch. despite it being black and plain, with perhaps a few details of white stitching and patterns, the tag on the side gave it away. “P4L,” it almost made you smile, really, but it was no situation to smile about. you knew exactly who had done it, and you didn't plan on wasting any time.

the cries and shouts of your friends, begging for you to stick around and handle it with them, followed you as you ran. you couldn't have taken the twinkie; it, too, had been practically pissed all over by rafe cameron. so, you ran. you ran as fast as your legs could carry you, and you didn't stop. not even when their pleads began to falter.

the figure eight was the paradise's paradise. the part of the island rich folk loved to step over in order to piss all over the cut's population. while you worked two jobs, their people owned two houses. it was a way to reassure everybody that there would always be balance, whether you liked it or not. by the time you had gotten there, you could practically feel the shift in the atmosphere.

playing golf was one of rafe's favorite activities, alongside drinking, snorting lines, and apperantly, vandalizing. you were out of breath as you watched him from a safe distance, hybrid golf club in his grip as he swung it back carefully, his concentration glued to nothing but the miniature ball on the tee in the grass. if you had been in the right mind, you would've definitely had a more thought-out, synchronized plan, but you were running on a few hours of sleep, panting like a dog, watching rafe cameron's smug, smug smirk as his club hit the ball with a smack. there was nothing thought-out, nor synchronized, about what you were doing.

he hadn't heard any of it, nor had he seen it coming. you ran towards him as fast as you could, despite the lack of oxygen in your lungs. he hadn't noticed a thing until your bodies finally collided, as you tackler him onto the ground. his club was tossed to the side, the ball flying into the distance as you sat on him, a groan of pain passing his lips as his eyes opened, but he had no chance to react.

“vandalizing my fucking house? isn't that a bit too pogue for your taste?” you practically spat at him, knees pressed around his waist as you held his arms down. “what the fuck is your problem, cameron?” he struggled against your touch, a growing stern look in his eyes as he grunted, grabbing onto your wrists and pushing you onto the grass. despite the fight you put up, he was the one on top of you now.

“went to give your bag back,” he began explaining, grip tightening the more you struggled. “how do you thank me? by giving me a clear view of the klepto tearing you a new one? really?” you didn't know when you had stopped struggling. all you knew was that you had found yourself staring into the kook's eyes, heart softening as you caught your breath. you hadn't noticed how blue his eyes really were up until that point.

for a while, it was quiet. awkwardness filled the air as your position didn't change, but his grip loosened. “how much did you see?” you murmured softly. as his grip loosened, so did his anger. so did yours. he found himself peeling his body off yours, using a hand to pull you up and sit you next to him. “more than i wanted to, thanks.” his tone was colder than anticipated.

you couldn't wrap your mind around the fact that he was bugged—enough to turn your front yard into a crime scene. “what's it to you, rafe?” he didn't answer, it wasn't helping you get anywhere anytime soon. “it's just sex between you and maybank, isn't it?” hesitantly, you answered with a nod. you couldn't believe you were actually discussing your sex life with rafe cameron. “yeah, i figured. all the guys in the world that'd show you the world, and you go for the guy that can only show you his bedroom.”

a scoff passed your lips as you took definite offense, it was as if he was calling you out for decisions that had nothing to do with him. “go fuck yourself, cameron,” you began to stand up, brushing away the loose grass off yours knees, but rafe didn't budge. “you ever been to corolla?” you stopped on your tracks, looking back at rafe, who had his eyes glued to the field in front of him. “meet me back here at eight, tonight.”

the nerve he had was absolutely unbelievable. once again, you found yourself scoffing at the pogue. “and why the hell would i do that?” this time, he was the one turning around, peeling his eyes off the scenery before him. “because,” he smirked. “i dropped the charges, you owe me.”

relief was all you could feel once you had come back to an empty house. the mess was still more than present, but no one was there. a sigh of relief passed your lips as you pushed past the unlocked door, back sliding down the wall as you buried your face in your knees. all you could do was think.

why was rafe cameron so concerned about you and your love life? why was he so keen on meeting you tonight? why were you so comfortably going along with his bullshit? your head cocked to the side as your phone buzzed, a message reaching you from an unknown number.

NO CALLER ID: don't be late 2night

wear smthn nice

- rafe

you rolled your eyes at the unnecessary signature. “signing his own damn message,” you muttered under your breath in disbelief. it was such a rafe thing to do, you couldn't help but smile.

with the door locked, despite the ongoing presence of the mess made in your yard, you had the entire chateau to yourself. the time you had to yourself was usually spent on doing the dishes, cooking, cleaning the house, hanging the clothes out to dry, taking care of the others. rare occurences such as the one at hand were an easy way to fix up your mood.

rarely did you ever get to focus on yourself. grateful for the hot water in the boiler, you treated yourself to a hot shower. thanking god for electricity, you let an old fan try your hair instead of the usual sunray routine. with freshly painted nails and newly dried hair, you allowed yourself the freedom of a new makeup routine. you knew your brother would flip if he saw you, so you made sure to hurry. you couldn't deal being interrogated, especially if it meant having to lie to him and your friends.

so, you kept your cool. you admired yourself, for the first time in a long time, you looked like yourself. not a tired, over-worked pogue, but a diamond, one that had been hiding in the rust. your hair was clean, wavy, with no more traces of sea salt. your nails were clean, trimmed, freshly-painted with a new coat. your figure was wrapped by a yellow sundress, admiring every curve of your figure, the color embracing your tan lines. the makeup, though subtle at the first glance, was your finest work of all. you made sure the coast was clear before slipping into your heels and onto your bike, into the settling dusk.

the island seemed different once nighttime rolled around. it was as if the ongoing sequence of fights, tension and bloodshed finally came to a halt. it was a temporary halt, but a halt of some sort, nonetheless. as you passed by trees and markets that had been closed for the day, you found yourself once again wandering back to rafe cameron. the possibility of him being a decent human being, with a heart, always found its way back to you.

the tannyhill plantation was one of the island's most beautiful manors. the first thing you had noticed while hopping off your bike, was that all of the lights had been shut off. all of them, except for the one in rafe's room. you shot a puzzled look at your phone, seeing as you hadn't received a single new message from him. hesitant to approach the front door, afraid of any sort of backlash, you found yourself frozen in your place.

your eyes remained glued to the white fence surrounding the villa, along with the balcony that led to rafe's illuminated room. for a while, you found yourself in a trance, eyes stuck on the way the lights flickered. shit, they flickered for a long while, before going completely still. your heart softened once he came into your view, you could see him walking towards you, but never noticing you. he had his eyes on his tie, fingers fiddling with the fabric as he tightened it. at first glance, it seemed as if he was finishing up in order to reach a certain level of presentabilituly for you. his hair was neat, pulled back with loose strands garnishing his forehead. it you hadn't been harboring so much hatred the past few years, you'd be drooling by then.

you watched him with careful eyes, gaze locked on his figure and you prayed that he'd notice you soon enough. for a split second, he turned around, a smile forming on his face as he did so. you furrowed your eyebrows, attempting to follow his gaze, to see what had caught his attention all of a sudden. there was no need for that. you found yourself frozen in your tracks as the picture came into place for you, bike falling to your side as you stared in shock.

you couldn't make out the woman that came up from behind him, the one dressed in a pink robe with her wet, brown bangs plastered to her forehead. all you knew was that she was a half-naked female with a glass of wine in her hand, wrapping herself around rafe as she pressed a kiss to his cheek. you watched him smile as he pulled her in, but you didn't miss the way he looked back at you. he looked back, eyes locking with yours for only a split second, as if he was telling you, “tied, we're tied.”

the entire trip back was rushed. you had given up the minute you realized you had given in. speeding away on your bicycle, you cursed at yourself for trusting him the way you did, ignoring the way your phone buzzed in the pocket of your sundress. your vision was blurry as you sped past the same scenery you had passed an hour ago, vigorously rubbing the tears away, smearing the make-up you had spent hours perfecting.

“no no no, fuck,” you whispered under your breath as you stopped the bike, heels digging into the ground as you pulled up into the yard. the lights were on, door unlocked, much unlike how you had left the house. you gulped, throat thick with tears and worry as you tried to make your way up the stairs as quietly as possible. if anyone were to catch you, you knew you'd be hit with hell's worth of questions.

whether it was jj inside, your brother, anyone. the result would've been the same. you sniffled, as quiet as ever, pulling the doorknob open as you peeled your heels off, careful to avoid any clicking noises. the living room was empty, the only noise being your heart pounding in your chest. the coast was clear, from what it seemed like.

“where the hell've you been?” froze. you froze in your tracks, for what may as well have been the tenth time that day. heels in one hand, handbag in the other, you carefully turned to the source of the sound. as you did so, you found your brother leaning against the wooden walls, his face stern as he analyzed you. “out,” you tried to play it off as cool as possible, letting your shoes drop to the floor. he scoffed, “out? yet here you are, crying, your make-up melting,” you found yourself avoiding his gaze once again, flinching at your younger brother's harsh tone. “i'm not asking again, where were you? where'd you go, (y/n)?”

all he wanted was to know you were alright, that you were okay. it's what encouraged his episodes, where he found himself screaming at you one day, worried sick, and apologizing the morning after. “i've had a long night, john b,” you finally snapped, watching the way his expression faltered. “we can talk about it tomorrow.” as hot-headed as he was, he knew you were the more stubborn one. with a huff, he retreated, kicking his legs over the couch. you ditched your handbag and shoes as you stormed off, making sure you slammed your door shut as you did so.

NO CALLER ID: didn't feel good, did it?

you see what i was talking abt??

the least u could do is answer

i overdid it i'm sorry

routledge come on i didn't mean to go so far

please answer

pick up ur phone don't get me worried

you failed to notice the way your phone lit up with messages, the screen lighting up with a buzz each time you had received a new notification from rafe. mainly because you had ditched your phone a while ago, leaving it to buzz above and beyond on the surface of the living room table. what you had so desperately failed to consider was who had complete access to those messages, an entrance to your situation.

john b clutched your phone, allowing it to vibrate, allowing the messages to come in at a fixed pace. his eyes were blank as he read every single text you had received, listening to the muffled sobs from the other side of the door. you were completely unaware, having forgotten that having a little brother meant having a nosy companion, at best. his expression hadn't planned on faltering, not until the last few messages rolled in.

NO CALLER ID: please meet me tomorrow

by the docks

i have to tell u smthn in person

- rafe

unlike his previous fits of rage, john b felt as if it was different this time. instead of punching the walls around him, instead of calling up jj in order to break into the camerons' villa with extra protection, he turned the phone off. a sense of peace struck him from the inside, as if he had an epiphany right then and there. as the sound of stiffled crying filled his ears, he felt himself falling back onto the couch. he wasn't stressed, nor was he scared. he allowed a silent rage to consume him, this time. because, he had a plan, and as far as he was concerned, rafe didn't know that he knew. a smile graced his lips as his eyes fluttered shut, knowing that the upper hand would be his.

from the comfort of your own room, you found yourself staring back at your tear-stained pillow. the make-up you had carefully touched up was evident on nothing but your pillowcase. you sniffled, bringing a hand up to wipe away your excess tears as you allowed yourself a moment of peace. the moment of peace and quiet you had spent with your head tucked in your knees was short-lived, if anything.

the sound of a KTM supermoto being revved up had a very specific sound, and a very loud one, at that. you jolted in your spot on the bed as the sound of a running engine filled your ears, as if was right next to your head. with the overflowing curiosity in place, you pressed your ear to the thin wall behind your head, scared to make any sudden movements, in case of potential threats.

“(y/n), i know you're in there,” the all-too familiarity of the voice pounded in your ears as your heart skipped a beat. you gulped, a shiver trailing down your spine. “come out here, i wanna apologize.”

the first few minutes you had spent ignoring his pleas, you remained focused on the light in your room you had forgotten to turn off. it seemed like all the lights in the world were your greatest foes as you cursed yourself for forgetting. the entire house was pitch black, except for your room, and it was too late for you to go back. your focus shifted the minute you heard a harsh sound next to your head, as if rafe had started throwing rocks at your window. it was what pushed you past your breaking point, knowing john b could wake up at any second.

“what do you want, rafe?” you were breathless after pulling your window open, staring at the tall boy just feet away from your window. he frowned as he took a few steps forward, “wanna talk to you, please.” if you weren't in the biggest state of disbelief you'd ever been in, you would've assumed he was being genuine.

“post-nut must've hit hard if you wanna talk to me,” you spat, a humorless laugh following. he studied the way black, tear-slick streaks trailed down your cheeks, the way your dress looked as if a cow had chewed on it. even during your worst hour, you were a knockout. “we didn't fuck, dammit,” he snapped back, inhaling deeply as he tried to keep his cool. “sofia and i didn't fuck, i just needed you to feel how i felt that night.”

none of it made any sense to you, absolutely none of it. you scoffed, “i don't fucking get you, rafe.” you watched the way his eyes lightened as he sighed, taking the last few steps needed to look you in the eyes. he was inches away, still able to tower above you despite being outside. “i don't understand, either,” he admitted. “i don't understand why you make me feel the way i do, or why seeing you with him makes me angry. i wanna understand, but i don't.”

was it a confession? a semi-confession, maybe. you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry. to close your window shut, drop the blinds, and hide under your bed. not specifically from rafe, but from the thoughts that consumed you. if you didn't relate to his words, why did you run? why did you cry all the way home? why did you feel as if someone had ripped your heart out of your chest? “i know you feel it, too, (y/n).” he didn't have to say anything, you knew he was right.

“you gotta be quiet, rafe,” your voice was barely above a whisper. his face was just inches away from yours, and you could feel the way your breathing elevates. now, you could really see how blue his eyes were. blue and bright. “john b's asleep. if he hears us, it's over.” you wondered if you had seen a more genuine smile on his face than in that moment. it wasn't a smug smirk, or a taunting laugh. just a smile.

“yeah, i can do that,” his voice matched your tone perfectly, “i can be quiet for you.”

you hadn't exactly been counting on it happening so fast, but you didn't budge when he closed the distance between your faces. inches away only minutes prior, he had finally pressed his lips to yours. you felt your breath hitch, eyes widening as you tensed up at the foreign sensation. it was supposed to feel wrong, it was supposed to make you scream, curse him out for coming near you, anything of the sort. the exact opposite had taken place. once you had relaxed, your eyes fluttered shut, lips moving to match his movement.

when he had pulled away, his face was flushed, “tell me this means you forgive me,” the plea had left his mouth before he could stop himself, alongside the nod you had been fighting back. you had just kissed rafe cameron. “meet me by the dock in the morning, around nine, is that okay?” you found yourself taking in every single word that he sounded out, agreeing with nothing but a simple nod. he smiled at how you went along, despite the evident shock on your face, before departing once more. not before placing a kiss onto your forehead.

you made sure to shut the window the second he had driven off again, determined to be as quiet as possible. once you had done so, you felt yourself falling onto your bed once more. it felt as if you had swallowed your heart, like it was thumping excessively in your stomach. you didn't know what you were feeling—relief, if anything. relief, knowing he truly didn't have it in him to touch another girl. at least, not in fronr of you. you couldn't help but wonder why you felt so relieved, next to millions of other things, why did the thought of him with her bug you so much?

the thought itself consumed you to the point of no return as your eyes fluttered, mind going hazy as you thought of his last words. by the dock, at nine o'clock in the morning. you were so focused on his words that you failed to recognize the breathing behind your door. the breathing of the same person who had been listening the entire time. perhaps, that would be tomorrow's problem.

tomorrow's problem came faster than anticipated. at precisely eight o'clock in the morning, john b woke up, and for the first time in a long time, he woke up without the usual dread he carried on his shoulders. no, this time, he woke up with a smile on his face. if anything, he was motivated.

he had pushed past your door, careful not to make any sudden sounds as he entered, a sigh of relief passing his lips once he saw that you were still asleep. for a while, he found himself staring at you. his big sister, you were all he had, and he couldn't stand the thought of losing you. especially not to someone like rafe. with one last look, he shut the door, promising himself that he wouldn't let it come to that.

by the time you had woken up, it was thirty minutes past eight o'clock, and your brother was long gone. your eyes fluttered open, heart fluttering as the realization dawned upon you. in thirty minutes, you would be face-to-face with rafe once again. your brother's disappearance didn't mean much to you—you figured he was out with the others, like he usually was. the eerily extended period of zen you were feeling all came crashing down once you stepped into the living room.

your eyes trailed toward your phone, placed face-down on the living room table. the edges glimmered with light, letting you know that your phone had not only been moved, but unlocked and accessed. your suspicions came to life as you turned it around, your breath hitching at the sight of rafe's messages on the screen, opened and read. it was no coincidence, you knew your brother too well for it to be one.

in due time, your suspicions would've proved right. rafe had been waiting by the dock, as he had promised you the previous night. he would never admit how nervous he was feeling, pulling his phone out and checking for your responses, only to be met with the fact that you had read and ignored them. he found himself biting him nails, pacing around the flooring out in the open as he searched for a sign that you'd come.

“expecting someone?” he didn't fear the familiar voice, but it was definitely unexpected. as he turned around, he pressed his eyes shut, a feeling of annoyance gnawing away at his patience. once he turned around, he was met with john b, an empty expression on his face. “not who you were expecting, i'm sure.”

rafe scoffed as he took a step forward, “where the hell is she, john b?” your brother took the following step, closing more than enough distance between them to earn a few stares. “you've got no business talking to my sister, that's all i'm gonna tell you,” he snarled. he had no idea, had no clue about anything regarding the situation. rafe didn't know what to say, he had nothing left to use against him.

“maybank's been screwing your sister,” the bomb that had dropped in that moment wasn't apart of rafe's plan. it was his back-up plan, fueled by pure jealousy and nothing more. “you're worried about the wrong guy, routledge.”

despite the closeness between the two men, john b felt his look soften at the newly-obtained information. for a second, a split second, he felt himself calm down, as if he had realized he was up the wrong guy's ass. then again, why wouldn't rafe lie to save himself? a cameron, a kook. it was in his nature to double-cross. when he had convinced himself that rafe was lying, what followed next was inevitable.

rafe allowed his head to fall back as he stumbled, the feeling of john b's fist colliding with the underside of his chin. as he fell back, he watched john b approach him with heavy steps, a crowd beginning to form around the two of them. “here's a message from my sister,” he crouched, meeting rafe at an eye-to-eye level. “whatever it is you're feeling, she wants nothing to do with it.”

despite the hit he had just endured, what he was listening to then and there seemed to have pained him more. for a second, he didn't consider it. he saw the look in your eyes the previous night, a look that matched what he felt perfectly. the consideration lasted a split second, before he remembered, you were a pogue. at the end of the day, you were a pogue.

by the time you were ready to leave your house, the sound of your door opening and closing rang in your ears. you had been taking your time, wanting to look approachable for the conversation you had been waiting for the entire night. for a second, you could breathe normally once more. if that was john b back so soon, it could only mean not much damage could've been done. you held onto the possibility as you left the bathroom, rushing to the hallway, where he stood silently.

the first thing you noticed was how his knuckles were littered with bruises, only a few, but it was enough to cause you to panic. “what the hell did you do?” he silenced the end of your question with the raise of his hand, and you knew it was serious. “just answer one thing,” he paused. “did you fuck jj?”

you didn't even have time to consider the fear coursing through yours veins. betrayed, you felt betrayed. rafe had gone and stabbed you in the back, using the secret you had trusted him with against you. not just with anybody, but with your younger brother. “that's nobody's business, jb.” his hand collided with the wall, causing you to jolt as you took a step back. “you can both go to hell,” he sneered, pushing past you as he entered the living room. you called out for him, wanting nothing more than to explain yourself, but it was no use. “give my condolences to rafe.”

it wasn't the need to explain yourself that led you to the camerons' villa, but rather the urge to rip his head off and finish the job—the lingering empty void that had formed after seeing the lack of messages from him. something was wrong, but you didn't know what it was. surely, he wasn't angry at you. not for something your brother had done entirely on his own.

from the inside of his dark room, rafe felt his blood boil. betrayal, he felt betrayed. he had truly believed you were different, seeing as you had awoken something in him. something that led him to levels of jealousy and hard work he didn't even know existed. he couldn't believe it, he saw the look in your eyes that night. there was no way anybody could feign it. the thoughts that engulfed him sent him down a spiral of insanity, a yell bouncing off the walls as he threw his phone onto the floor, letting the material crack beneath his feet.

you couldn't have been bothered to wait under his balcony again, instead running towards the main entrance. before you could knock, a familiar face popped out from the side, as if she had been counting on your arrival. “thank god you're here,” sarah exclaimed as she pulled you in for a hug. though puzzled, you hugged her back. “he's been acting like a dick all day, he won't talk to anyone.” you deemed it strange, how sarah knew that you were the person rafe needed to talk to.

“what makes you think i can do shit about it?” you questioned, but the input, as if silly, only earned you a giggle. “come on, you're not dense,” she continued to laugh as she unlocked the door, pushing it open. “you should hear how he talks about you when he isn't pretending ti hate you, it's priceless.” you were barely given a chance to react as sarah ushered you into the house, showing you exactly which way to go.

up the stairs you went, leaving her behind as you followed the light onto the second floor. sarah's room was open, a familiarity to it despite having only seen it twice in your life. wheezie's room was next to it, with rafe's room right across, on the other side of the hall. the only room with the door shut tight. as you approached it, you began to severely doubt yourself. sarah was supposed to know best, but she wasn't exactly close to her brother. despite how hesitant you were, you still found yourself knocking.

the sweet sound of silence followed shortly after, only encouraging you to knock again. this time, you allowed your voice to pierce the quiet. “rafe, please let me in,” silence. sweet silence. “it's (y/n), please open the door.” the silence that followed was abruptly cut by the presence on the other side, the door finally creaking open.

you stood there, frail in comparison, as rafe stood in front of you. his eyes, though dark at first, lightened at the sight of you. in comparison, you felt your eyes widen, hands involuntarily reaching out to inspect the harsh bruise on his chin. he flinched at your touch, but didn't protest. “john b,” you exhaled, regretting thinking your brother wasn't capable of much damage. “he did this, didn't he?” rafe didn't offer much of an answer, almost embarrassed as he opened the door, stepping aside to let you in.

you stepped into the room, eyes wandering as rafe closed the door. it was your first time seeing his room. much like the rest of the villa, it was gorgeous. spacious, modern. rafe sat on the bed, right across from the spot you stood on. “thanks for telling my brother all about my sexcapades,” was the first thing you couldn't stop from tumbling out of your mouth. “i trusted you, rafe. i trusted you, and you still went behind my back.”

once again, he found himself on his feet, “you wanna talk about trust, really?” he ignored the puzzled look on your face. “let's talk about how you sent your brother to cave my face in and tell me that you don't want shit to do with me. yet, here you are, for whatever fuckin' reason. what the hell do you want from me?”

his words flew past your head like daggers, each one finding a new and improved way to leave their mark on you. you couldn't express your confusion well enough, “sent my brother? rafe, you can't possibly be serious.” he was quick to cut you off, pacing around his room as he ran ha hand through his hair. “sent your fucking brother, just like he told me. said he was delivering a message from you.” your eyes dropped at the sight of his phone on the floor, shattered completely.

you didn't know what to say. you were aware of how protective your brother was, everybody knew it as much as you did, but there were lines that shouldn't have been crossed. you found yourself walking up to rafe as he circled his footsteps, grabbing a hold of his wrists in order to get his attention. “rafe, i swear to god,” you paused, locking eyes with him. “i didn't send john b after you, i didn't tell him anything. i told you to stay quiet last night because i didn't want him to hear, jesus.”

you weren't sure at first, but rafe had finally settled despite the disbelief still present, “you really expect me to believe he found everything out on his own?” with a huff, you let go of his wrists as you dropped to the floor, back sliding down the wall as you went through all of the possibilities.

“my phone was in the living room with him,” you admitted. “he was the one reading your messages, not me. that's how he got there before i could, and came back before i could leave. told me you told him jj and i had sex, and that's it.”

rafe had finally calmed down, more than he had expected. amidst the silence, he found himself dropping down across from you. his heart began to beat at a steady pace, the realization finally settling—you were telling the truth, the entire time. he felt awful for doubting you the way he did. “i'm sorry for telling him about you and maybank,” your head shot up at his words. getting an apology from him was the last thing on your bucket list. “i was jealous, shit. didn't think he'd blow up the way he did. he mad at you?”

you nodded almost immediately, unable to hold your laughter back as you recalled his short fuse. “yeah,” you looked back at rafe. “seems like you got the shorter end of the stick, though.”

his bruise had turned into a pale shade of purple, decorated with bits of red and blue. when you had touched him this time, he didn't flinch. his eyes fluttered shut as you caressed the bruise with your thumb, watching for any reactions to the pain. “i'll be okay,” he assured you, but it didn't stop you. “it'll go away in a few days.”

for a while, you sat in silence. it wasn't the awkward kind, but rather the pleasant kind. during the entire time, you found yourself melting more and more into his touch, allowing him to pull you into his embrace for the first time. the right way. your hand never left his bruise, gentle strokes gracing his chin. “where do we go from here?” it was your question that broke the silence, and rafe looked at you softly. he admired the way you fit in his arms perfectly, the way your chest moved up and down as you made yourself comfortable against his touch.

“i like you,” was all he could muster up in that moment. “can't stand the way maybank had you. he took what i've been praying for all these years.” the confession, though touching, couldn't help but make you smile. “must be why you've been such a dick all this time,” he nodded in agreement, and it really had you thinking.

the silence frightened him, making his heart skip a beat. perhaps you were looking for a way to let him down easy? perhaps you wanted to be with jj, and not him? countless thoughts passed his train of thought as he watched you stare at the walls, as if contemplating. “all my life, i've never felt what i've been feeling these past few days,” you had finally broken the silence. “thought you'd leave my mind after you chose not to press charges, but you never did.” once again, he could relax. “i like you, rafe. i really like you.”

god, if your brother could see you. if any of your friends could have seen the position you were in, if they could have heard the words leaving your mouth, they'd lose their shit. they'd go completely off the rails. however, in that moment specifically, none of them mattered. you turned to the side, facing rafe and his look of shock with a proud smile on your face. with no need for any more words, meaningful or not, you allowed yourself to close the distance as you pressed your lips to his. this time, you were the one taking action, a look in your eyes that told him, “tied, we're tied.”

[nasa]

Comin’ in Hot: Seven Things to Know About our New Heat Shield

What goes up, must come down, and from space, without burning up in an atmosphere. That’s why we’re pumped for the Low-Earth Orbit Flight Test of an Inflatable Decelerator, or LOFTID. Launching on Nov. 1, 2022, with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s (NOAA) Joint Polar Orbiting Satellite System-2 (JPSS-2) mission, this technology demonstration marks the next step in advancing an innovative heat shield design that could one day be used to land heavy payloads – including humans – on Mars!

Here are seven things to know about this innovative re-entry system: 

1. LOFTID is the first-ever in-orbit test of this technology. 

Inflatable heat shields, called Hypersonic Inflatable Aerodynamic Decelerators (HIADs), have been in the works for more than a decade. In 2012, the third of the Inflatable Re-entry Vehicle Experiments (IRVE) launched on a suborbital sounding rocket from the Wallops Flight Facility, demonstrating a 3-meter (10-foot) diameter inflatable heat shield.

But the LOFTID re-entry vehicle, at 19.7 feet (6 meters) in diameter, will be the largest blunt body aeroshell to ever go through atmospheric entry. Designed to withstand temperatures as high as 2900°F (1600°C), this first-ever in-orbit test of this technology will prove if it can successfully slow down large payloads – such as crewed spacecraft, robotic explorers, and rocket components – enabling them to survive the heat of re-entry at planetary destinations with an atmosphere.

2. You can find out how this tech works in real-time.  

LOFTID is unique in that all operations will happen within a few hours of launch. After the JPSS-2 satellite safely reaches orbit, the LOFTID vehicle will separate from the upper stage of the Atlas V rocket and begin re-entry into Earth’s atmosphere. If all goes as planned, the technology will help the vehicle decelerate from hypersonic (more than 25 times faster than the speed of sound) down to subsonic flight, less than 609 miles per hour for a safe splash down and recovery from the Pacific Ocean. 

While in flight, engineers at NASA’s Langley Research Center will receive location data every 20 seconds and onboard sensors and cameras will record more comprehensive data about the technology’s performance. You can get a behind-the-scenes look at Langley’s Flight Mission Support Center where the LOFTID project team will be monitoring the flight test at NASA.gov/live following the launch.

3. A lemon-sized capsule ejected into the Pacific Ocean will hold key flight data. 

The LOFTID re-entry vehicle will record both sensor and camera data during its flight. The data will include the temperatures and pressures experienced by the heat shield and will illustrate how well the technology performed during the demonstration.

Although the goal is to retrieve the LOFTID re-entry vehicle after it splashes down in the Pacific Ocean, the team wanted a back-up option just in case they can’t recover it. Enter the tiny yellow package called an ejectable data module (EDM) which will also record flight data. The EDM will be released from the spacecraft at an altitude of about 50,000 feet. It will free fall into the Pacific Ocean off the coast of Hawaii and should land within 10 miles of the spacecraft’s splash down location. A recovery team, that has practiced hide-and-seek of the EDM on land and sea, will use GPS to search an approximately 900-mile area of the Pacific Ocean to find their “lemon.”

4. This heat shield packs a punch. 

Although NASA has historically relied on rigid aeroshells, parachutes, and retro-propulsion (rockets) to decelerate people, vehicles, and hardware during entry, descent, and landing operations, a benefit of inflatable heat shields is that they take up less space in a rocket, allowing more room for other hardware or payloads. LOFTID’s aeroshell has been folded and tightly packed down to 4 by 1.5 feet for launch and stacked in the United Launch Alliance (ULA) Atlas V rocket payload fairing.

5. LOFTID is dedicated in honor of one of its innovators.  

LOFTID was developed as a partnership with ULA and is dedicated to the memory of Bernard Kutter, ULA manager of advanced programs, who passed away in August 2020. Kutter was instrumental in advancing the inflatable heat shield design and developing the plan to test the system on an Atlas V rocket. He was an advocate for both space technology and expanding access to space. Kutter’s NASA and ULA counterparts agree that LOFTID is unlikely to have made it to space without his vision and passion.

6. LOFTID is made of tough stuff. 

Synthetic fibers make up the inflatable structure, braided into tubes that are, by weight, 10 times stronger than steel. The tubes are coiled so that they form the shape of a blunt cone when inflated. The thermal protection system that covers the inflatable structure can survive searing entry temperatures up to 2,900 degrees Fahrenheit. Researchers used the same heat-shielding materials to create a fire shelter prototype for firefighters battling forest fires.

7. You can make your own LOFTID Halloween costume! 

Still looking for an out-of-this world Halloween costume? With a few commonly found materials, like orange pool noodles and duct tape, you can create your own LOFTID costume. However, we make no promises of protecting or slowing you down from becoming the life of the party.

Follow @NASA_Technology for the latest updates on LOFTID. Don’t miss our live coverage leading up to launch from the Vandenberg Space Force Base in California. The NASA Edge JPSS-2 Tower Rollback Show airs live on NASA TV and YouTube on Tuesday, Nov. 1 at 12 a.m. EDT, and NASA TV live launch coverage will begin at 4:45 a.m. EDT. 

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[gwynniethenymph]

Do you think so? Part 1.

Pairing: Azriel x Gwyneth Berdara.

Word count: 1212 words.

Notes: Sooo... here is jealous Azriel and a one shot that accidentally became a two chapter story! I'm very nervous about posting this since it's the first story I write in years, but I'm also very excited. Constructive criticism is very welcomed! Don't know if I should post this in ao3, but I'll think about it. Also, Azriel is very, very bad at feelings in this first part.

~~~

"Is it normal for the sun to be so... bright?” Cassian complained for the fifth time in an hour. Azriel only stared at him. His shadows writhed in agitation too, but there was little he could do.

The Summer Court offered oceans of the purest water and clear, hot days. Oddly enough, the Shadowsinger sometimes appreciated this kind of weather, though Illyrian leathers were unbearable in the heat. He missed his leathers.

Despite the initially pleasant atmosphere, the air around them crackled with raw power and fear. War was imminent, and so was betrayal, hence the week-long Courts Meeting. The Spymaster just couldn’t understand why war meetings were disguised as luxurious balls and quick alliances as amicable friendships.

“Courtier's shit,” Rhys had answered with a scoff. They needed to keep the common people calm while orchestrating swift relocations to the south, far from the borders between Spring and the Human Lands. The urgency of such activities was probably the only reason Tarquin tolerated Cassian's presence.

Azriel had plenty of work to do as well, trying to keep his High Lord informed of every glance and conversation. He sighed. It would be easier if that devilish, mischievous little nymph wasn’t so damn... distracting. And offensively good at her job.

With the growing popularity of the Valkyries Division and her remarkable contribution against the Illyrian Revolution, Gwyn had become a respected and well-known name across Prythian. According to Amren, she was also quick-witted, well-versed in history and politics, and "strikingly beautiful". Before understanding her line of thought, Azriel had agreed and added how good of a spy the priestess was.

As a result, Gwyn had been assigned to secure Tarquin's alliance and friendship. Considering how closely they danced at the moment, Azriel thought he might have to remind her of the "friendship" part. Or perhaps punch Tarquin and get himself banned from Summer.

It would be worth it, though.

The dark-skinned High Lord held the Valkyrie against his chest, one hand around her slim waist as they spun. The silk of Gwyn's gown resembled a cobalt ocean, the halter neckline exposing the toned muscles of her freckled arms. If she were closer, he would see her huge, mesmerizing eyes lined with gold and her pink, plump lips. She looked like a siren from the tales Azriel’s mother used to tell him—a beauty like no other, ready to enchant unsuspecting sailors and drag them to the depths of the sea.

Tarquin looked quite happy in his "sailor" position. Azriel would be happy too. He couldn't tear his eyes away from her, couldn't ignore the pang in his chest. Gwyn had become too important to him in the last few years, their time together reserved not only for training and sparring, but for the deepest conversations he’d ever had, for silly jokes and friendly flirting.

Well, he had believed the flirting was not that friendly anymore, but as Nesta and Emerie giggled and whispered about the dancing couple, the Shadowsinger concluded he must have been wrong. As that terrible, awful dance ended and Gwyn separated from the High Lord with a courtesy, Azriel found himself relaxing, his shoulders dropping for a mere moment before he realized how many heads turned towards her.

“Twenty and seven, Singer.”

“What?”

“Twenty and seven males turned their heads to look at Our Light, Singer. Would you be interested in knowing the number of females too?”

Azriel sighed. “No, thank you.”

“Twenty and three females turned their heads to look at Our Light, Singer.”

“Okay, no more counting.”

“This equals fifty heads turned. Dismissing, of course, the heads that didn’t need to be turned because they were already looking in Our Light’s direction, Singer. This includes your head, Singer.”

Azriel gritted his teeth. “Please go check on the Vanserras.”

“Of course, Singer.”

As his shadows went silent and the Spymaster sighed, Gwyn reached the group with a smile. The golden sunlight streaming through the tall, arched windows hit her eyes, making them seem like a gateway to the shallow seas of Adriata. Emerie and Nesta grabbed each of her arms and proceeded to gossip and giggle:

"Who could imagine Tarquin uses dancing as a form of foreplay?" Lady death grinned, mischievously.

Even the tips of Gwyn's ears went red, her eyes going wide "It- it was not! We just danced. Like... friends. Very good friends."

Emerie snickered wildly "I am your friend for longer and never received this type of treatment. You are hurting my feelings."

"Oh, shush. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, but I know, Gwynnie. He looked at you the same way I do when you look too pretty."

Gwyn's mouth went slightly agape. "Wouldn't that make the look even more... friendly?"

Cassian, who had been observing the conversation, pointedly looked at his mate and nodded. "Wouldn't it, Nesta?"

Caught in the act, Nesta cleared her throat before uttering a simple, "No". Gwyn considered her friend for a moment before shaking her head.

Azriel expected her to say the relationship with Tarquin - and, well, Nesta - was nothing but friendly. That their were all going insane and seeing things that weren't there. He expected her to shrug it off. Instead, Gwyn's eyes glinted with interest.

"I'm not going to dive into your last comment, but... You think so? That he looks at me... like that?"

The two Valkyries looked at Gwyn like she had just convinced Helion to give them a pegasus. Azriel's shadows were whispering about murder and something else the Spymaster couldn't quite catch given the zooming in his ears. His fists and jaw were clenched so tightly he feared it may break. She... she truly liked Tarquin?

"SO YOU LIKE HIM!"

As if it was possible, Gwyn went even more red. "Perhaps, but-"

Azriel couldn't help himself from murmuring "That's not what you should be worried about."

Gwyn's eyes found his "Oh. I- Sorry?"

He shouldn't be saying this. It was only meant to hurt her like he was hurting. But, again, he simply couldn't help himself. "I said you shouldn't be worried about silly romantic... whatever. You have a job to do, and seducing Tarquin is not a part of it."

Their small group went deadly silent, Nesta shooting death glares at him. "I... I was not trying to... seduce him. I'm doing my job perfectly well."

Between the hurt he saw in her eyes before, there was anger emerging. One he matched quite well. "Well, then keep your- your heart and feelings out of it. And your body at least a few inches separated from his."

This time, her mouth was fully agape. Gwyn stuttered from a moment, trying to find an answer, when Tarquin suddenly surged behind her.

"Gwyn? Is this a good moment? There's something I want to show you."

She turned around to face the High Lord and, before Azriel could growl at him or stop her, one of his shadows - the only one that actually listened to the Shadowsinger sometimes - nervously darted across his face, whispering about something about Beron.

Azriel turned around, scanning the room in search of the Autumn High Lord, only to find him having a mildly heated conversation with Helion. But when he returned to excuse himself from the group, Gwyn and Tarquin were gone.

[where-the-water-flows]

look I am halfway through a draft thinking about the shittiest nurse/worst buddy cop duo au, and have had the hilarious and also terrible realisation that like.

Li xiangyi is fifteen when he defeats the blood demon and becomes the top ranked guy in the jianghu, right? he's fifteen. a teenager.

he holds that rank until his death, I'm assuming, given we don't get told otherwise and a lot of the rank fights we hear about end in uhhhh someone's death, though given di feisheng is the guy we hear the most about having those fights possibly that is just a him thing and everyone else has less than a 99.5% combat fatality rate.

whatever! we're proceeding on the assumption that Li xiangyi is top dog from the point he gets the rank until he "dies" in the east sea.

which means that for five years, the top ranked martial artist is a fucking teenager. presumably a number of people try to challenge him*, which means that a number of people rock up to a literal teenager and are like YOU, ME, FIGHT!?

and then get their ass kicked. by a teenager who has not finished having growth spurts, and whose voice is still 9000% cracking.

imagine facing the best martial artist in the world, who is all teenaged gangling limbs, proceeds to kick your ass, and then (assuming you're not uh. dead from terminal sword-itis) gives you some self impressed incredibly annoying teenager lecture on what the fuck ever. his voice cracks four times in ten minutes. you do not laugh, because he did just kick your ass, but also, maybe it would have been better to die.

*other than di feisheng? what are you doing for those five years there bud, like yes setting up the alliance but also? bestie you explicitly do not care about that, we've all been in jobs/community projects we hate but c'mon, babygirl, surely you could make time for a play date somewhere in the literal five years you had to organise it?? maybe he got to rank 2 way after Li xiangyi made rank 1, but still?? we are talking at minimum about 3 years at rank 2 probably, and I too have failed to organise a meet up for years on end but still. get it together mate, wuyan seems great at organisation in the approximately seven seconds of screen time he has, maybe let him handle your calendar appointments

[birthday-hell]

Buggy

Happy Birthday

August 8

[mdzs-fanon-exposed]

MDZS Fanon VS Canon: 6/?

Jiang Fengmian was in love with Cangse Sanren

Rating: RUMOR

Some characters, notably Wang Lingjiao and Madam Yu, bring up the gossip that Jiang Fengmian was in love with Wei Wuxian's mother in order to reason why he seems to favor Wei Wuxian over his own wife and son. Despite the idea originating in the text, however, there is no concrete evidence either way, so it cannot be considered "canon." Instead, this is only an in-text rumor.

Supposedly, "the entire cultivation world knew" the rumors surrounding the Jiang marriage drama, but as we learn in the very first chapter, the information spread throughout the cultivation world is incredibly inaccurate and relies on misinformation (Seven Seas Ch. 1, Ch. 12).

We do know that even at the time, people thought Jiang Fengmian and Cangse Sanren were romantically involved:

Speculation abounded that Cangse-sanren was extremely likely to become the next mistress of Lotus Pier. To everyone’s surprise, it was around this time that the Yu Clan of Meishan proposed a marriage alliance with the Jiang Clan of Yunmeng. (Seven Seas Ch. 12)

But as established above, while the popularity of this rumor implies that it may have been based in fact, the assumptions that the "cultivation world" makes are not a reliable source of information.

Crucially, of the few characters who mention the rumor aloud, it is Madam Yu herself who first brings it up with her husband:

"I refuse to believe you haven’t heard the gossip—that after so many years, Sect Leader Jiang is still obsessed with a certain Sanren and sees his old friend’s son as his own. Everyone speculates whether Wei Ying is your…" (Seven Seas Ch. 12)

But only a few pages later, Wei Wuxian refutes this "nonsensical bullshit":

“My mom and dad are real people and have names. I can’t stand when people blindly assign me to other families!” (Seven Seas Ch. 12)

With all this contradictory evidence in the books and no first-person account from someone who witnessed their relationship (Wei Wuxian wasn't born yet; Madam Yu only refers to the gossip as if she learned it second-hand; Jiang Fengmian never confirms nor denies), there is no way to know for sure whether Jiang Fengmian had feelings for Cangse Sanren.

However, canonically, multiple characters labor under this assumption. In the end, because of the complicated nature of this topic and its roots in the text, the idea that Jiang Fengmian was in love with Wei Wuxian's mother has to remain a rumor.

[whaddayadothatfor]

An Overwhelming Hunger

“You’ve had a stressful day, my love. What can I do for you?”

“I am hungry,” Namor replied, staring at you through his brow. “But not for food.”

—————————

Pairing: Reader x Namor

Summary: BP:WF complete AU (T’Challa isn’t dead and Namor didn’t kill the Queen) Namor has decided to attend peace talks with Wakanda to avoid war with the powerful nation. However, when frustrations towards his diplomatic mission grow, you decide to help him destress in the best way you know how. Namor, however, has other plans.

Warnings, content: fluff, smut, bondage, overstim, committed relationship, unedited

AN: Hey y’all! Just trying to get into the flow of things and see what works and what doesn’t. I hope y’all like it.

————————————————————————-

You had been here for hours. A pillow tucked underneath the small of your back, your hands tied to one of the posts on your headboard, and your panties stuffed in your mouth. The sheets underneath you were warm to the touch and soaked with your sweat. Your hair tussled from writhing against the sheets and makeup smudged from the tears streaming down your face, and you were sure you looked a mess. But you knew Namor only the saw your state of undress as the result of his handiwork.

You knew this because he had told you as much when you expressed discontent at how ridiculous you must’ve looked earlier. He reassured you that you were the most lovely woman in his Kingdom and any other. He made it clear that he wouldn’t stand to be challenged on his opinion by anyone, including you. Then he shoved your panties in your mouth and went back to working on your third orgasm on the night. That was two orgasms ago. You struggled to remember how you ended up in this predicament in the first place.

Four hours ago

It all started because of politics. The root of all evil, in your opinion. Namor, in an effort to sustain peace and maintain security for his people, decided to meet with the royals of Wakanda to work on an alliance while you stayed home to guide and protect the Talokans in his stead. He did not expect that building an alliance would keep him away from you for days at a time. The Wakandan elders had been particularly headstrong and full of opinions, which slowed progress from time to time.

Namor, communicating through the advanced technology Shuri lent him that allowed him to video call you even miles under the sea, lamented at just how slow the progress was. He simply wasn’t used to being so far away from his people, from you. Not for so long. Unaccustomed to seeing your husband so stressed, you decided to spoil him when he returned. After all, the distance between you hadn’t only been hard on him. You missed your husband, in more ways than one.

You didn’t have to wait long to set your plan into action. Namor had sent word that there would be a seven day recess, so he’d be home by evening. You took the time to doll yourself up and wear the night gown he likes the most. It’s blue and adorned with Jade, a testament to how he loves to spoil you. You cover yourself with a long, flowy robe, the same blue color as your night gown, and tie the robe together with the matching belt with a neat little bow. Like a present to unwrap on Christmas morning.

While you wait for your lover to return home, you also prepare one of Namor’s favorite dishes to eat. It’s a simple dish — fish and rice, but you prepare it in the way his mother did and it reminds him of her. Namor strolls into the room, shoulders tense and his eyes tinged with annoyance. His eyes light up into appreciation at the sight of you.

He trails his eyes down your body, coming back up to stop at the necklace that rests just in between your breasts. It’s a small intricate gold and silver necklace that ties into a knot where the two metals meet. He gifted that necklace to you when you got engaged. For many, it’s a symbol of your union. For the two of you, it symbolizes his deep need to possess even the smallest part of you and to have others acknowledge that you belong to him. That your fate is tied to his for as long as you both live. You shudder at his lingering gaze and try to ignore the tingle that spreads from your core.

Today is not about you, you scold yourself. You should at least feed the man before you jump his bones. You were so busy chastising yourself that you missed the way his gaze darkened, his eyes full of desire and want. You did however notice the tenseness in his shoulders, and the way his mouth was set into a thin straight line.

“You’ve had a stressful day, my love. What can I do for you? I made your favorite in case you’d like to eat.”

“I am hungry,” Namor replied, staring at you through his brow. “But not for food.”

In a flash, he covered the distance between the both of you and covered his mouth with yours. He was an all-consuming force, like a whirpool, and you were a tiny sailboat adrift at sea. You had no way of overpowering him, but you didn’t want to. He picked you up and threw you on the bed. He took the soft satin belt from your robe and tied your hands to the one of the wooden posts of the headboard.

“The only thing I want is for my sweet, pretty wife to come from my tongue as many times as she can stand it. Do you think you can do that?”

Present

Namor moaned into your pussy, only taking a moment to lick up the remnants of the last orgasm you had that had dripped down your thighs. He sat up for a moment and massaged your thighs. You felt delirious.

“You’ve been so good for me, my Queen. Taking each and every thing I’ve offered,” he said. He rubbed his clothed dick all over your slick pussy.

“I bet you could take one more.”

[svsss-fanon-exposed]

Examining SVSSS Canon: 2/∞

THE PRE-CANON TIMELINE

This post will attempt to provide an answer to several questions, including the ages of some of the current peak lords, as well as a rough timeline of events in the extras relative to the current day. A simple, bullet-point timeline will be at the end of this post, with relevant quotes and analysis above.

The timeline of SVSSS isn't particularly easy to piece together, and many fans are unsure of things such as the ages of certain characters, or how long the current generation of peak lords has been in power. As a matter of fact, it seems like even Airplane himself doesn't have a set timeline in mind for the events of PIDW pre-LBH:

“Your ages?” To tell the truth, Shen Qingqiu didn’t really know the precise age of this body. He raised his head at Shang Qinghua. “Wouldn’t you know better than I do?” Shang Qinghua twirled the brush in his hand. He’d never thought about this question either, so he figured he might as well just say whatever. Therefore he randomly wrote a number down in a couple of strokes. (7 Seas, Ch. 31)

It would be easy enough to take this quote and call the timeline a mystery-- however, there are a surprising amount of clues in the text, enough to at least put together a decent idea of when things happened and how old certain characters are, depending on which theories and interpretations one ascribes to.

There are two particular facts which are our most important hints as to the pre-LBH timeline, upon which this entire analysis hinges.

First, we have the spacing of the Immortal Alliance Conferences:

After much difficulty, Luo Binghe managed to turn seventeen, at which point he finally participated in the event the cultivation world held once every four years: the Immortal Alliance Conference. (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

And next, we have the length of time since Shen Qingqiu began to cultivate:

Before, Shen Qingqiu had thought that this body’s qualifications were already incredible, to have formed a core in only ten or so years when he’d begun cultivation so late.  (7 Seas, Ch. 19)

Notably here, what is translated as "ten or so years" is 十几年， which is more accurately "ten and a few years." This means that at the time Shen Qingqiu formed a golden core, he had been at Cang Qiong Mountain for around 10-15 years, but likely no longer or shorter than that.

This tells us quite a bit already-- because we know that Shen Qingqiu only reached core formation after becoming peak lord, as well as after Luo Binghe had already become a disciple:

Luo Binghe was using the incorrect cultivation manual that Shen Qingqiu had handed him; he should have long since died bleeding from the seven apertures, his body rupturing down to his bones, skin, meridians, tendons, and flesh... Shen Qingqiu was filled with paranoia; he forever felt like everyone was secretly talking behind his back, discussing how he’d been unable to attain Core Formation even after this long.  (7 Seas, Ch. 24)

So this tells us that it could not have been any longer than around 15 years between Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe joining Cang Qiong Mountain, and was likely at least a few years less than that because it has already been awhile since Luo Binghe was given the fake manual, which likely occured shortly after he arrived, and Shen Qingqiu reaches core formation at some point after this scene.

This means that the Qing generation's ascenscion likely occured no more than ten years after Shen Qingqiu joined the sect-- putting the ages for Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan respectively at roughly twenty-six and twenty-nine when they became peak lords.

The timeline can be clarified further and expanded, however, due to the spacing of the IAC. We know that the IAC occured when Luo Binghe was seventeen, and that it occurs every four years-- meaning that there would have been IAC taking place also when he was thirteen, nine, five, one, and three years before he was born.

However, we also know that it had not actually been fourteen years since Luo Binghe's birth at the start of SVSSS.

In the translation, Luo Binghe says the following when Shen Qingqiu asks his age:

“This disciple is fourteen,” Luo Binghe obediently replied. (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

However, the original says:

洛冰河乖巧地道：“弟子虚岁十四。”

"虚岁" here would be better translated as "nominal age." In ancient times, a child was one year old on the day of their birth, and aged up by one year with each new year-- so if a child was born the day before the new year, then at two days old he would already be counted as two years old. Sometimes, this would be counted on the spring festival new year, but other times it would be counted on the winter solstice.

As for Luo Binghe's precise chronological age, that is up for some determination. We know roughly the time of year he was born:

Immediately after birth, Luo Binghe was abandoned by his parents, swaddled in white cloth, and put in a wooden basin that was lowered into the Luo River. This occurred on the coldest days of the year... (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

The "coldest days of the year" here is 数九寒天, which refers to the nine periods of nine days each following the winter solstice. The winter solstice typically occurs on December 20-21, meaning that Luo Binghe's birth date is somewhere between December 20-March 12. If nominal age is being counted by winter solstice in this world, then that makes him chronologically thirteen at the start of SVSSS, but if it is calculated by the spring festival, then he is chronologically either twelve or thirteen at the start of SVSSS, as the Chinese new year can fall anywhere between January 21 - February 21, meaning that LBH could have been born either before or after this time.

So, let's just say that LBH's chronological age, for the purposes here, is thirteen, and then adjust our IAC timeline as follows：

There was one when he was chronologically sixteen, twelve, eight, four, the year he was born, and four years before he was born.

Now, how does this help us determine a timeline?

Well, we have the following statement:

Yue Qingyuan’s knuckles slowly brushed along Xuan Su’s hilt. “I was able to meet Senior Su Xiyan once at an Immortal Alliance Conference, many years ago." (7 Seas, Ch. 18)

Because we know that Su Xiyan died when Luo Binghe was born, we know that this meeting could not have occured at any conferences after his birth. It also would be unlikely that they met the same year Luo Binghe was born, as Su Xiyan would likely already be dead at that point if LBH was born after the new year. So, the latest that Yue Qingyuan could have met Su Xiyan would be twenty years before Luo Binghe was thrown into the Abyss.

We now combine this with the earlier discussion of the ages of Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan, and here I will note the following:

Yue Qingyuan slowly said, “At age fifteen, I entered Qiong Ding Peak." (7 Seas, Ch. 21)

This puts Yue Qingyuan roughly three years older than Shen Jiu:

“When [Shen Jiu] was twelve years old, he was but a slave my family had purchased from traveling child traffickers. " (7 Seas, Ch. 6)

Shen Jiu joined Cang Qiong Mountain at sixteen:

Liu Qingge didn’t even grace him with a sideways glance. “But certainly more success than a nobody who only began proper cultivation at age sixteen.” (7 Seas, Ch. 19)

This happened most likely directly after reuniting with Yue Qingyuan at an Immortal Alliance Conference. This puts Yue Qingyuan's age at nineteen during that conference, at which point he is head disciple, and has already gained some fame. However, this reunion has to occur before Luo Binghe's birth, Su Xiyan's death, and Tianlang-jun's defeat. This is because at this point, Yue Qingyuan has only been in Cang Qiong Mountain for four years-- thus, this particular conference is almost certainly the first one he has taken part in, and likely the first one he has attended at all, since a brand-new disciple in early stages of training most likely wouldn't have gone, therefore if Tianlang-jun had already been sealed by this point, Yue Qingyuan would not have had the chance to meet Su Xiyan.

So, the latest Shen Qingqiu could have joined Cang Qiong Mountain, at age 16, is twenty years before the Abyss, which would put him at age thirty-six at the youngest at that time.

Now, what about additional conference cycles?

It's possible that the conference in which Yue Qingyuan met Su Xiyan and/or after which Shen Qingqiu joined CQM may have been the one before this-- but that would also add four additional years to the time SQQ had been cultivating.

The earliest that Luo Binghe could have joined CQM would be when he was a little over ten years old, as that is when his mother dies:

On the bed lay a haggard old woman. With great effort, she tried to prop herself up, but from beginning to end, she was unable to do so. A small figure rushed in from outside. A tender-faced Luo Binghe, only a little over ten years old, supported the woman. Around his neck hung that jade pendant. (7 Seas, Ch. 3)

Shen Qingqiu had not reached core formation when Luo Binghe joined the sect. This means that if the IAC where SQQ joined the sect was four years before Luo Binghe's birth, then by the time Luo Binghe joins the sect it has been about fourteen to fifteen years since SQQ began cultivating.

Adding an additional four years would bump that to eighteen to nineteen years, which exceeds the "ten and some" years that SQQ took to reach core formation.

In my opinion, this also tells me that LBH joined CQM when he was absolutely no older than ten or eleven, and likely went to join immediately after his mother's death, because pushing LBH's join date later would also stretch the timeline of SQQ's cultivation. Now, this part does not specify whether the ten years old is nominal age or chronological age-- but because LBH's age of seventeen at the conference is referenced to his nominal age of fourteen, with a distance between of three years, then I am considering all age-numbers to be nominal age rather than chronological. This only really matters in regards to Luo Binghe for this analysis, though, as his birth year is the only one which has bearing on the timeline in regards to Su Xiyan's status.

With all of this information, we can determine with good confidence that the conference in which Yue Qingyuan met Su Xiyan was the same conference during which he reunited with Shen Qingqiu, which occured four years before Luo Binghe was born and twenty years before the Endless Abyss.

So because of this, we actually do have a relatively precise timeline of characters' ages, as well as events in the cultivation world.

This short timeline is also supported by the fact that Ming Fan is the most senior of Shen Qingqiu's disciples, and he is only sixteen, about 2-3 years older than Luo Binghe:

A youth around sixteen years old, tall and thin, promptly ran in through the door. “This disciple is here. What instructions does Shifu have?” (7 Seas, Ch. 1)

Had the Qing generation ascended too many years prior to Luo Binghe's joining the sect, it would be strange that the most senior disciple of Shen Qingqiu's was only sixteen, as in xianxia a disciple typically will not "graduate" at a certain age or cultivation stage, meaning that older disciples will maintain their role well into adulthood.

As for the rest of the peak lords, we have little to no information regarding the ages of Wei Qingwei, Qi Qingqi, or Mu Qingfang. However, we do know that Liu Qingge is quite young, and joined the sect both at an optimal age and a significant length of time before Shen Qingqiu:

At this point, Liu Qingge’s formal ascension to Bai Zhan Peak Lord, too, had likely only happened a couple years ago. There was a visible air of immaturity about his features, his gaze fierce and sharp, and within his every action was a young man’s spirited vigor. (7 Seas, Ch. 19)

and

Therefore, even though he’d entered the sect quite some time after Liu Qingge, because Qing Jing Peak was ranked second—only below Qiong Ding Peak—while Bai Zhan Peak was ranked seventh, Liu Qingge still had to address Shen Qingqiu as “Shixiong,” if through gritted teeth. (7 Seas, Ch. 24)

So, Liu Qingge is likely a year or two younger than Shen Qingqiu, but not by too much, since they still behave very much like contemporaries as teenagers-- let's say that Liu Qingge is likely around 14-15 when Shen Qingqiu joins the sect at age 16.

The other peak lord we know a bit about the age of is Shang Qinghua:

The older-than-average outer disciple Shang Qinghua, who currently occupied a seventeen-year-old body, looked around in all directions as he trailed behind the main team, who were unloading goods from the ship onto the docks. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

He is seventeen here, and an outer disciple of An Ding Peak. We can place this a bit more definitively on the timeline by the fact that Shen Qingqiu is already a head disciple at this point in time:

“What I don’t know is how Shen Qingqiu got chosen as head disciple after starting cultivation so late,” said another outer disciple who’d joined Cang Qiong Mountain at an older age, his expression sour. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

Unfortunately, we cannot place the exact point in time where Shen Qingqiu became head disciple-- one possibility is that it couldn't have happened until after Tianlang-jun's defeat, which occured about four years after he joined the sect, since he did not participate in the battle. But that is a weak argument, since none of the current generation besides Yue Qingyuan participated in that battle:

Of the current peak lords, only Yue Qingyuan had participated in that battle, as the head disciple of Qiong Ding Peak. (7 Seas, Ch. 17)

If using this argument, then that would mean that aside from Yue Qingyuan, none of the other peak lords had been chosen as head disciples at that time-- while that is a possibility, I think that a more feasible explanation would be that Yue Qingyuan was an exception, and participated in the battle specifically because of his wielding Xuan Su.

One thing we can extrapolate, however, is that Shang Qinghua was most likely an inner disciple for at least three years before the Qing generation's ascension. This is because of the following:

One day, Shang Qinghua’s concise Great System delivered a new command: Become the An Ding Peak head disciple within three years. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

Now, it is somewhat loose evidence, as there is nothing to say that "three years" means for certain that the ascension would occur three years from that point, but it does mean that it occured no earlier than that. By now, Shang Qinghua has already been an inner disciple for some time, long enough to have been assisted by Mobei-jun a few times and to have gone on several missions-- most likely around a few months to a year or so at minimum.

Of course, how long has passed between Shen Qingqiu joining the sect and this point? Well, since Shen Qingqiu is still described as a youth:

Shang Qinghua suddenly heard the tinkling of sword tassel pendants, and a youth wearing Qing Jing Peak’s uniform slowly approached him. (7 Seas, Ch. 26)

Because of this description, I would say that Shen Qingqiu is most likely between seventeen and his early twenties, since it isn't particularly likely that he would become head disciple in less than a year after joining the sect. Of course, within this age range, there is one important event that occurs-- the battle of Bai Lu mountain, which would have occured when Shen Qingqiu was twenty and Yue Qingyuan was twenty-three.

Now, this gets into more of a speculation than anything else-- just before this point, Mobei-jun attacked Huan Hua Palace and the An Ding Peak disciples. If the battle of Bai Lu Mountain had already occured, it would have happened no more than a few years earlier. We also know that there is a tentative truce between the demon realm and the cultivation world:

This suggestion was solid. For many years, the Human and Demon Realms had maintained an uneasy balance and had yet to drop the pretense of peace. Eliminating Sha Hualing and her mob wouldn’t be impossible, but it would likely light a fuse. The demons definitely wouldn’t let her death go unanswered, and it wouldn’t be worth it if they stirred up an even greater conflict. (7 Seas, Ch. 3)

I suspect that this pretense of peace was likely set in place after the battle of Bai Lu Mountain, when the demon realm had just lost their ruler.

Since just a short time had happened since the demons' defeat and a likely truce between the realms, I find it unlikely that Mobei-jun, a prominent member of demonic nobility, at this time would be actively antagonizing the cultivation world by attacking Huan Hua Palace and Cang Qiong Mountain. Now, of course, there is a potential alternate storyline that this is exactly what happened, and Mobei-jun went rogue as an act of lashing out, and that interpretation would be perfectly valid on its own.

Personally, though, I believe that Shang Qinghua's meeting with Mobei-jun occured before the battle of Bai Lu Mountain, while the cultivation world and demon world were in the tense state on the edge of war. This means that Shang Qinghua most likely became an inner disciple when Shen Qingqiu was around 17-19 years old.

With this information, we can determine some relative ages:

Yue Qingyuan is three years older than Shen Qingqiu, who is a little older than Liu Qingge. Because Shang Qinghua was seventeen when Shen Qingqiu was already head disciple, it is most likely that he is around Liu Qingge's age, give or take a few years, as it is not particularly likely (though potentially possible) for Shen Qingqiu to have gone from new disciple to head disciple in the space of a single year.

Aside from these four, there are no other ages that can be determined for the peak lords.

With all of this information, a fairly decent timeline can be created. Characters' ages will be listed with each notable year.

《 THE TIMELINE 》

*counted up to the start of SVSSS. If using this timeline, keep in mind that the earliest and latest notes for date ranges can overlap-- do not accidentally have a disciple join the sect before the current peak lords ascend, or have SQH become head disciple after ascension! Dates with ranges are colored green (earliest) and red (latest).

Earlier than -21 YR

LQG: &lt;;10-11

(earliest) Liu Qingge joins Cang Qiong Mountain

-21 YR

LQG: 10-11, SQQ: 12, YQY: 15, QHT: &lt;16, QJL: 16

Shen Jiu sold to Qiu Jianluo

Yue Qi joins Cang Qiong Mountain

--IAC--

-19 YR

LQG: 12-13, SQQ: 14, YQY: 17

(earliest*) Yue Qingyuan enters the Lingxi Caves with Xuan Su

-18 YR

LQG: 13-14, SQQ: 15, YQY: 18, QHT: &lt;19, QJL: 19

(latest*) Yue Qingyuan enters the Lingxi Caves with Xuan Su

Shen Jiu kills Qiu Jianluo and burns down Qiu Manor

Shen Jiu becomes Wu Yanzi's disciple

(earliest*) Yue Qi leaves the Lingxi Caves

(earliest*) Yue Qi becomes head disciple

(latest) Liu Qingge joins Cang Qiong Mountain

-17 YR

LQG: 14-15, SQQ: 16, YQY: 19

(latest*) Yue Qi leaves the Lingxi Caves

(latest*) Yue Qi becomes head disciple

--IAC--

Yue Qingyuan meets Su Xiyan

Shen Jiu kills Wu Yanzi and joins Cang Qiong Mountain

-16 YR

LQG: 15-16, SQH: 15-17, SQQ: 17, YQY: 20

(earliest) Shen Qingqiu becomes Head Disciple

(earliest) Shang Qinghua meets Mobei-jun and becomes inner disciple at age 17

(earliest) Shang Qinghua receives the directive to become head disciple within three years

(earliest) Shang Qinghua becomes head disciple

-14 YR

MF: 2, LQG: 17-18, SQH: 17-19, SQQ: 19, YQY: 22

(latest) Shen Qingqiu becomes Head Disciple

(latest) Shang Qinghua meets Mobei-jun and becomes inner disciple at age 17

(earliest**) Su Xiyan imprisoned and subjected to torture in Water Prison

(earliest**) Battle of Bai Lu Mountain

(earliest**) Tianlang-jun Sealed

-13 YR

NYY: <1, LBH: 1, MF: 3, LQG: 18-19, SQH: 18-20, SQQ: 20, YQY: 23

(latest**) Su Xiyan imprisoned and subjected to torture in Water Prison

(latest**) Battle of Bai Lu Mountain

(latest**) Tianlang-jun Sealed

Luo Binghe is Born

Su Xiyan Dies

(earliest) Qing Generation ascend to become Peak Lords

--IAC--

-11 YR

NYY: 2-3, LBH: 3, MF: 5, LQG: 20-21, SQH: 20-22, SQQ: 22, YQY: 25

(earliest***) Ming Fan joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

-9 YR

NYY: 4-5, LBH: 5, MF: 7, LQG: 22-23, SQH: 22-24, SQQ: 24, YQY: 27

--IAC--

-8 YR

NYY: 5-6, LBH: 6, MF: 8, LQG: 23-24, SQH: 23-25, SQQ: 25, YQY: 28

(latest) Shang Qinghua receives the directive to become head disciple within three years

(earliest***) Ning Yingying joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

-5 YR

NYY: 8-9, LBH: 9, MF: 11, LQG: 27-28, SQH: 27-29, SQQ: 29, YQY: 32

--IAC--

(latest) Shang Qinghua becomes head disciple

(latest) Qing Generation ascend to become Peak Lords

(latest) Ming Fan joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

-4 YR

NYY: 9-10, LBH: 10, MF: 12, LQG: 28-29, SQH: 28-30, SQQ: 30, YQY: 33

Luo Binghe's adoptive mother dies

(earliest) Luo Binghe joins Qing Jing Peak

(earliest) Shen Qingqiu reaches Core Formation

-3 YR

NYY: 10-11, LBH: 11, MF: 13, LQG: 29-30, SQH: 29-31, SQQ: 31, YQY: 34

(latest****) Ning Yingying joins Qing Jing Peak under Shen Qingqiu

(latest) Luo Binghe joins Qing Jing Peak

-2 YR

NYY: 11-12, LBH: 12, MF: 14, LQG: 30-31, SQH: 30-32, SQQ: 32, YQY: 35

(latest*****) Shen Qingqiu reaches Core Formation

-1 YR

NYY: 12-13, LBH: 13, MF: 15

--IAC--

Year 0

NYY: 13-14, LBH: 14, MF: 16

SVSSS Begins

-----

This timeline operates under the following conditions. For some of these conditions, alternatives are discussed in the post above-- if you wish to use any of the alternative calculations, then you're more than welcome to adjust the timeline as applicable for your own use!

"Years" are counted from the first day of the spring festival/Chinese new year, rather than January 1

All character ages are nominal ages, so they were born in the year they are counted as age "1"

Luo Binghe was born after the new year, and so his nominal age is only about one year higher than chronological.

Shang Qinghua met Mobei-jun before the battle of Bai Lu Mountain

The system's time limit for SQH does reference the time of the Qing generation's ascension

The Immortal Alliance Conference takes place roughly in the middle of the year. Based on the fact that it is warm enough for the disciples to dip their feet into a stream and find that pleasant, it would make sense for the IAC to occur in a warmer season (Ch. 4)

Further References and Footnotes:

*Yue Qi was in the Lingxi Caves for more than one year and Qiu Manor had already been destroyed by the time he got out (Ch. 21)

**The birth of Luo Binghe occured a few days after the battle of Bai Lu Mountain. Depending on when LBH was born, it could be at the end of year -13 or the first few days of year -12 (Ch. 21)

***We do not know the earliest a child can join Cang Qiong Mountain, even though the appropriate age for cultivation most likely cuts off somewhere around 15 (due to YQY joining at that age and no comments about him being "too old"). For the purposes of this timeline, I am setting the absolute youngest to age 5, but more realistically a disciple wouldn't join until age 8-10 at the earliest.

****It is unknown whether the only time that disciples can join Cang Qiong Mountain is during the recruitment trials. Therefore, there remains a possibility for Ning Yingying to have joined the sect in the same year as Luo Binghe, but at some point before the recruitment trials due to connections. This can potentially be supported by Shen Jiu joining after the IAC, but at the same time, it is not confirmed that SJ joined CQM immediately, or if he had to wait until the next recruitment trial, so there is no clear canon precedent-- nonetheless, it is still possible. Note that Ning Yingying can only join at this late point if Luo Binghe joins at age 11, and after her. The only hard requirement is that NYY joined at some point before LBH.

*****I have placed this as the absolute latest time SQQ could have formed a golden core because this puts him at having been cultivating for sixteen years. It is a bit of a stretch already , but I don't think that "ten and a few" years could really be any longer than this. It is also worth noting that by the time SQQ reaches core formation, every other peak lord has already done so, with Yue Qingyuan first, Liu Qingge and Qi Qingqi next, and Shang Qinghua most likely last (Ch. 24)

--

Please let me know if you notice any errors in calculation, formatting, or missing details! This was quite substantial so there's a good chance I may have missed something.

Some of the points in this analysis and timeline calculations were brainstormed with the help of @zykamiliah , @cum-villain , @furbygoblinxiv . Many thanks!

[gimmethatagustd]

take what's yours | pjm + jjk

To secure his rightful place as next in line to the throne, Jimin must marry the neighboring kingdom's youngest heir, Jungkook. Jimin is prepared for his kingdom's invasive marriage traditions, including the need to prove that the marriage has been consummated. Unfortunately, Jungkook is not.

○ Pairing: Prince!Jimin x Prince!Jungkook

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Pistilverse, royalty, arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, vaguely historical, angst, smut, (fluff?)

○ 5 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Pistilverse)

○ Word Count: 3,660

○ Warnings: This is literally just emotional smut, Stamen!Jimin x Pistil!Jungkook, it's like fuck or die but instead of death they'd both be exiled from their communities RIP, loss of virginity, anal fingering, anal sex, crying during sex, it's actually very soft

○ Notes: Hello I'm back again with more Pistilverse 😌 and a drabble that's too long, of course. This is my brand atp. As usual, I added a glossary to the end of this post for those of you who are unfamiliar with the concept~

○ Post Date: January 18, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? DIE 4 YOU - DEAN

Jungkook runs his fingertips along the edge of the mahogany desk in Jimin’s chambers, opposite the large bed where Jungkook’s night dressings lie out for him. The clothes are made of sheer white lace like a fisherman’s net meant to snatch him and string him up on a line to be picked at. He took one look at them and was overcome with a panic so severe that he felt as though he couldn’t breathe.

The thick leather-bound books and messy parchment scattered across Jimin’s mahogany desk call to Jungkook, though even the friendly book spines and elegant ink scrawls pierce Jungkook’s heaving lungs.

A marriage of alliance.

The words stare at him, inked in his father’s handwriting many moons ago, in a letter addressed to the king whose land meets the sea and whose stamen son was said to be more beautiful than anyone in the seven kingdoms combined.

They were right, the rumors.

Not once has Jungkook dared look Jimin in the eyes, too consumed with embarrassment and fear. If asked, the poor prince wouldn’t be able to recount a single detail of his wedding ceremony other than the little pieces of gold that adorned his and Jimin’s shoes, for his eyes never lifted from the floor all day.

“Prince Jungkook,” a voice calls from the bedroom’s entrance.

Snatching his hand back, Jungkook spins around to meet the stern gaze of a stamen guard, one of many he has seen stationed around the palace. This one is different than the guards who escorted Jungkook to Jimin’s bedroom after the last wedding guest left for the night. 

Jungkook’s stomach rumbles as if reminding him that he should regret not eating during the reception. Nerves still twist Jungkook’s insides too tightly to force food into his system.

“Yes?” Jungkook asks, hardly able to raise his voice above a whisper.

“You must be examined for marks before changing for our Highness.” As he speaks, there’s a mean shine to the guard’s eyes, something dark that makes fear unfurl in Jungkook’s chest.

“I have already done the examination,” Jungkook explains. He shuffles backward, taking small half-steps that he hopes aren’t noticeable to the guard. “It was part of the marriage stipulations, that I arrive to the Prince unblemished. And I have.”

“That examination occurred many days ago.”

Jungkook can’t hold back the look of disgust that muddles his soft features. “Are you insinuating that I would… defile myself mere days before I am to be wed?”

Anger flashes across the previously stoic guard’s face. As Jungkook’s waist hits the desk, preventing him from moving any further from the guard, he wonders if it’s appropriate for the guard to speak to his new prince or if this kingdom’s people genuinely hate him as much as he feared they would.

“You mountain dwellers are not known for your honesty,” the guard sneers. He steps toward Jungkook, posed to grab him when the bedroom’s double doors fling out.

Even in his night clothes, Prince Jimin is ethereal. Fire dances in his eyes from the many candles decorating the room, casting shadows on the downturn of his mouth. His white robe flutters behind him as he advances on the guard like one of God’s angels on the Day of Reckoning.

Something is terrifying about an unarmed man willing to move aggressively toward one who has a sword hanging on his hip. Does Jimin own a sword? Jungkook assumes so as a prince. Then again, Jungkook was never taught to use one himself.

“Sochun,” Jimin crowds the guard, his jaw pulled taunt and sharp enough to cut, “Get out of my sight before I have you stripped before the court.”

Jungkook watches with his trembling hands clasped behind his back as the stamen guard rolls his shoulders. Sochun steps into the hall with the little dignity he has left, slamming it shut behind him. Jungkook doesn’t exhale until Jimin bolts the doors.

Instinctually, Jungkook flinches when Jimin turns toward him.

“Did he touch you?” Jimin asks softly, the anger in his face settling into something gentler. If Jungkook were naive, he would think Jimin cared.

“No.”

“Good,” Jimin nods, his gaze never leaving Jungkook’s face despite Jungkook’s wish that he would look away. “If anyone ever touches you, you must tell me. Immediately.”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and whispers, “Yes, Prince Jimin.”

“Please, no need for titles. We are wed, Jungkook. It is silly to use such words in the privacy of our bedroom.”

We.

Our.

Jungkook doesn’t want to be a we or an our with Jimin.

Leaning against the desk, Jungkook isn’t sure how to respond. He supposes there’s nothing to respond to; he has no say in this. His father made that abundantly clear, as did the rest of the sea kingdom’s court. It will be long before Jungkook becomes accustomed to the contempt in the King’s eyes when he looks at him.

Jungkook may have been used for an alliance that promises his safety, but it certainly doesn’t promise kindness.

“You haven’t changed.” Jimin holds the silk pajamas. He lets the fabric slip through his fingers, gliding between his hands like water. “You must be uncomfortable in those ceremonial clothes.”

It’s true; the robes are uncomfortable. The fabric is heavy and scratchy. Since the wedding was abrupt, the seamstresses didn’t have time to tailor the clothing to Jungkook’s body appropriately. It sits on his shoulders oddly and makes him feel smaller than he is.

But taking them off would mean accepting the inevitable, and Jungkook isn’t ready.

“I'll turn around?” A small smile curves Jimin’s plump lips. Jungkook only has a moment to appreciate the playful look before Jimin spins around to face the opposite side of the room.

For a moment, Jungkook doesn’t move. Jimin must know because he chuckles lightly and taps his fingers against his thighs.

“I swear I will not peek, Jungkook-ah.”

Quickly, Jungkook snatches the clothing from the bed and works on undoing the ridiculous number of buttons and little clasps keeping his ceremonial clothing together. A little voice inside his head reminds him that it doesn’t matter if Jimin peeks; Jungkook is putting these clothes on only for Jimin to remove them whenever he pleases. And then, once they have consummated their marriage, Jungkook will have to show the royal court Jimin’s flower adorning his body.

It upsets Jungkook, knowing something so personal will be taken from him and made public — not to mention how embarrassing it will be for everyone to know that they had sex.

“I’m done,” Jungkook states simply once his ceremonial clothing is folded and placed atop the trunk in the corner of the room. He hasn’t had the chance to unpack. It feels strange to think that his personal items must be placed amongst those of a stranger.

Jimin’s dark eyes sweep over Jungkook’s body much like the guard’s had, but his gaze isn’t as intimidating as Jungkook once thought. Jimin has kind eyes like he’s appraising Jungkook to make sure he’s comfortable, rather than ogle his body — even though he could. 

Without needing to see a reflection of himself, Jungkook knows he looks good, the sheer material leaving little to the imagination while cloaking him in something soft and alluring. A mystery within arm’s reach.

“May I help you remove your jewelry? It’ll get in the way, and you’ll want to keep it nice,” Jimin offers.

Turning around, Jungkook stands rigid at the end of the bed as Jimin approaches him from behind.

“I wish you to know that I am sorry,” Jimin’s breath tickles the back of Jungkook’s neck just like his fingers do as he unclasps the gold necklace. “It may seem as though none of this bothers me, but I have spent my entire life preparing for this day. You… you have not, and for that, I am sorry.”

“You frighten me,” Jungkook whispers once Jimin has stepped back, putting distance between them again.

“I know.”

“I’ve never done this before.”

Jimin knows this; they all know this. If Jungkook wasn’t a virgin, the flowers of the stamens he’d slept with would be scattered across the beautiful marking of tree branches that creep up his spine like a snake with dozens of heads. But Jungkook is a virgin pistil, so his tree is barren, unmarked, and unblemished. Fit for the grand prince, the heir to the throne, who deserves nothing less than an innocent virgin.

“I have,” Jimin admits freely. He sits on the edge of the bed. Jungkook tries not to look at the thick thighs revealed when his silk shorts ride up. “Are you disappointed?”

Is there a correct answer? Jungkook isn’t sure. He frowns and stares down at the fluffy blanket tucked around the mattress.

“There are other pistils with the Prince’s flower adorning their bodies?” The question is polite but judgmental.

Rather than be upset, Jimin tosses his head back with laughter. It’s giddy, almost giggly, and nothing like the harsh prince Jungkook was taught to assume Jimin was.

“I have enjoyed time with other stamens,” Jimin explains with an amused smile. He leans back on his palms so he can look up at Jungkook. “Thus, no gold roses to worry about leaving behind.”

Despite himself, Jungkook looks over Jimin’s body, suddenly wondering where his pretty flower marking may be. Perhaps the gold rose is on his ribs or his chest? Jungkook’s gaze drops lower, and he lets himself wonder if it’s on the soft inside of his thigh.

“Are you curious?”

Blushing, Jungkook looks away. “I suppose there is no use in being curious if I’m to find out…”

Taking Jungkook’s hand, Jimin gently coaxes him to stand between Jimin's knees at the edge of the bed. Everything about Jimin is gentle, even when his tone is painted with playfulness, and his eyes sparkle with mischief. Jungkook finds those qualities comforting and must remind himself that Jimin has no say in this, either. They are both bound to each other by force. 

Jimin could be rough with him and demand that Jungkook submit to his will because this is his kingdom, and Jungkook is merely a pawn in a twisted political game. Instead, Jimin touches Jungkook kindly. He runs his fingers along Jungkook’s jaw and tickles the underside of his chin until Jungkook has to duck his head in embarrassment.

“I want this to be enjoyable for you, as much as it can be,” Jimin lifts Jungkook’s chin so they can stare into each other’s eyes again. “And after tonight, if you wish to never speak to me again, I will respect that. I can get you your own wing of the palace and your own servants. Whatever it is that you desire, I will make it happen for you, okay?”

Such thoughtfulness is nearly too much for Jungkook to comprehend. How is it possible for Jimin to be this kind? Should Jungkook even trust him?

Breath caught in his throat, Jungkook only nods. Despite how quiet Jungkook is, Jimin seems to understand him. He gives Jungkook a small smile and hesitantly places his hands on Jungkook’s waist.

“Would you feel more comfortable if you kept your robe on?”

Jungkook hadn’t thought much about this moment, too afraid of giving himself to a stranger to want to consider what it would be like.

“I don’t know what I like. I won’t do well,” Jungkook admits, shame burning his cheeks. He was required to keep himself pure, but knowing Jimin has experience makes Jungkook feel inadequate.

“I will guide you.” Jimin squeezes Jungkook’s waist and pulls him closer. He tilts his head back to look up at him. “You are gorgeous, Jungkook-ah. You’re already more pleasing to me than you can imagine.”

“Oh, well…” The look in his eyes makes Jungkook’s stomach flip. “Okay.”

With a light chuckle, Jimin reaches up to run his thumb along Jungkook’s bottom lip. He hums in satisfaction when Jungkook licks his lips after, the tip of his tongue brushing against Jimin’s thumb.

“Have you been kissed, Jungkook-ah?”

Jungkook shakes his head.

“Will you sit with me so I may kiss you?”

With butterflies in his stomach and a heart on the verge of cardiac arrest, Jungkook slowly gets on the bed with his legs crossed to face Jimin. He always imagined his first kiss would be sweet and soft, something innocent with someone he loves and who loves him. Most of those things aren’t true now, but there’s no denying that Jimin is soft as he cradles Jungkook’s face and presses his lips to Jungkook’s.

What is a chaste kiss quickly deepens and becomes more passionate, Jimin showing Jungkook how to suck and bite bottom lips and wrestle tongues. 

Jungkook feels heat spread through his limbs. He grabs Jimin’s robe and squeezes the fabric in his fist to steady himself when he begins to tremble.

“Are you alright?” Jimin asks against Jungkook’s lips.

“Can’t breathe,” Jungkook gasps as Jimin slowly guides him flat on his back.

He sinks into the fluffy blanket and stares wide-eyed at Jimin, who hovers over him, his legs spreading Jungkook’s thighs open and his hands pressed on either side of Jungkook’s head.

Jimin runs his fingers down Jungkook’s torso, flicking the folds of his robe to the side to expose the smooth skin underneath. The tips of tree branches creep around Jungkook’s sides, and Jimin’s hand slips beneath his robe to trace what part of his tree he can see. The light touches make Jungkook suck his stomach in as he tries not to squirm.

“You’re very pretty.”

People have told Jungkook this before, but it feels different coming from Jimin. Perhaps it’s because Jimin is commenting on his naked body, not just his face or how stylish he looks in fine clothes.

“Thank you,” is what Jungkook assumes is the proper response. It makes Jimin laugh, though he doesn’t know why.

“Can I touch you, here?” Jimin’s fingers play at Jungkook’s hipbone.

Too embarrassed to look down where he’s already half-hard just from a bit of kissing, Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut and consents with a whimpery whisper.

“This part of you is pretty, too.” Jimin’s voice deepens, sounding rougher than it had. Jungkook feels his cock twitch in his hand when Jimin squeezes it, swiping his thumb along the head to smear the wetness there.

This time, Jungkook can’t thank him. He’s too overwhelmed by the pleasure of having someone else touch him where even Jungkook rarely touches.

“I’m going to get lubricant, okay?”

A gentle kiss on Jungkook’s abdomen makes his eyes fly open. When they adjust to the dim lighting, he sees Jimin reach for an ornate bottle on a shelf near the bed. He has shed his silk shorts and robe and is now fully naked. It makes Jungkook’s cheeks heat up to compare Jimin’s nakedness to the half-dressed state Jungkook is in.

Now that Jungkook can look at Jimin properly, he notices the cluster of gold roses decorating Jimin’s ribs on his right side. They're a delicate contrast to the dark tattoos scattered all over Jimin’s body, most words in the language of his people— one Jungkook is unfamiliar with. The gold roses are pretty, and Jungkook finds a tiny part of himself giddy at the knowledge that he’ll soon have those gold roses on his body, too.

“Do you like them?” Jimin asks with a cheeky grin, having noticed Jungkook staring.

Unable to lie, Jungkook merely nods.

“They’re pretty.”

Jungkook’s heart feels like it will break his ribs as Jimin returns to kneel between his legs. A virgin, yes, but Jungkook knows what the lubricant is for.

“Talk to me, Jungkook-ah. Tell me what you’re thinking,” Jimin asks with a firm hand slipped under the small of Jungkook’s back to lift his hips. 

Jungkook lets him slide a small pillow beneath him and realizes he’s likely making this difficult for Jimin if he’s not actively participating in what they’re about to do.

“I’m nervous,” Jungkook admits, searching for the words to explain how he feels while Jimin pours the lubricant on his fingers. “And I don’t know what to do. I want to do well, but I don’t… I don’t know.”

Holding the back of Jungkook’s thigh, Jimin pushes one of his legs up slightly, giving him more room to reach between his thighs.

“You don’t need to do anything,” Jimin says softly as he rubs Jungkook’s rim. When Jungkook jerks away, Jimin waits a moment before touching him again, slower this time. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Ookay,” Jungkook lets out a deep sigh when Jimin presses his finger past his rim.

It feels strange but not terrible. Jungkook finds it easy to relax his body as Jimin adds a second finger, and then a third, because he has been given permission to not worry about performing well or pleasing Jimin. It seems that Jimin is perfectly fine working his fingers inside Jungkook, massaging his walls and finding a spot where he rubs until Jungkook’s leg kicks uncontrollably, and Jungkook feels like he may die.

“Tell me if it hurts,” Jimin whispers against Jungkook’s throat as he trails kisses down his torso to distract from the press of his cock against his rim once Jungkook is stretched enough.

Jungkook thought it would be unbearable, but Jimin’s kindness makes up for the momentary pain. He wraps his arms around Jimin’s shoulders when Jimin leans down to kiss him. The fit is tight; Jimin is only halfway in, and Jungkook already struggles not to tense his body.

“You were so worried, my prince, but you’re doing well,” Jimin sucks a little mark at the corner of Jungkook’s jaw and doesn’t complain when Jungkook digs his nails into his back. “Just a little more.”

When Jimin bottoms out, Jungkook locks his legs around his hips to keep him in place. The feeling is almost too much, too full and foreign.

“Can you wait, please?” Jungkook’s voice cracks as fat tears slip down his rosy cheeks. 

He does his best not to hiccup or heave into Jimin’s neck, just keeps his eyes squeezed shut and pants with a stuffy nose and a headache blooming in the middle of his forehead. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Jungkook was supposed to fall in love.

“Jungkook-ah,” Jimin calls to him. He swipes his thumbs across Jungkook’s cheeks, wiping away his tears as best he can. “Have I hurt you?”

“No, it feels good. That’s not,” Jungkook pauses as a sob rips through him, “That’s not why I’m crying. I just, I didn’t think this would happen to me like this.”

“Oh, baby,” Jimin wraps his arms around Jungkook and holds him tightly against his body. The movement makes his cock press against Jungkook’s prostate, and Jungkook moans through his tears, which makes him cry even more.

“I’m sorry I’m crying,” he sniffles once his body feels as though it’s run out. “It isn’t your fault. If anything, I am thankful it was you. Others wouldn’t be so kind to me. I don’t understand why you are so kind.”

With a long sigh, Jimin nuzzles his face into the crook of Jungkook’s neck. They both smell of sweat and sex, but it’s comforting to have Jimin close, a warm, solid body to hold onto.

“You deserve kindness, Jungkook. It is the very least I can provide you.”

Jungkook knows Jimin is right, but he can’t sort through the feelings turning his brain to soup and making his heart flutter somewhere in his stomach. He and Jimin are both victims of royal duty.

“Thank you,” Jungkook says softly, turning his head to kiss Jimin’s temple.

“You do not need to thank me, my prince.” As simple as it is, the little nickname makes Jungkook feel warm. “Would you like to stop and try again in the morning?”

Right. Because they must do this before the court calls for them.

Taking a deep breath, Jungkook relaxes his body until he’s no longer squeezing Jimin so tightly.

“We can keep going. It was nice.”

“Okay. If you want to stop, tell me. We can go at your pace.”

Giving Jungkook a light peck on the lips, Jimin rolls his hips. The thrusts are slow and shallow, with just enough movement to get both of them adequately aroused again and for Jungkook’s body to grow accustomed to the stretch.

There are no declarations of love or screams of pleasure. Perhaps one day, Jungkook thinks, as he watches how beautiful Jimin looks as he thrusts into him. It feels good; Jungkook’s moans and whimpers are evidence of that, but it’s still strange for him to be doing this for the first time with someone he doesn’t know.

“You feel good, my prince,” Jimin murmurs in Jungkook’s ear, sending shivers down Jungkook’s spine.

“Go harder,” Jungkook moans, his fingers finding Jimin’s hair to twist.

“Fuck.”

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook feels the build-up of pleasure ready to snap and spill over. Unlike anything he’s felt before, it builds from inside him, shooting sparks of pleasure through his cock and in the pit of his stomach. He cries out, unsure how to get where he needs to be.

“Jimin,” he whimpers, “Jimin, Jimin.”

“It’s okay,” Jimin reaches between their bodies to jerk Jungkook’s cock, “Just breathe.”

Jimin cums right before Jungkook does. Jungkook feels it, not only inside of him but across his back, as Jimin’s gold roses bloom on his barren branches. The thought crosses his mind that he’ll look pretty in the morning with the mark of a royal prince on his body, proof that he has Jimin to care for him.

And, perhaps, love him.

When they come down from their highs, with rosy cheeks and bitten lips, Jungkook watches Jimin prepare a damp cloth to clean him of lube and cum, and he thinks perhaps one day he could love Jimin, too. 

GLOSSARY OF TERMS

(Borrowed from here and revised to fit my fic)

Pistilverse AU - A South Korean fanfic trope wherein almost all humans experience an “awakening” during puberty that assigns them into one of two botanically-inspired groups: Pistils and Stamens. These groups are denoted by marks on the person’s body, similar to tattoos.

Pistil and Stamens - Pistils develop a mark of a barren tree that appears along their spine after their awakening, while stamens develop a flower somewhere on their body after their awakening.

Awakening - The moment a flower or tree appears on a person’s body, signifying their status as a pistil or stamen. You could look at it as a coming-of-age moment in a person’s life. These are typically painful for pistils. A pistil might experience more than one awakening if their tree becomes too full of flowers.

Marks/Marking - When a pistil sleeps with a stamen, the stamen’s flower blooms on the pistil’s tree branches. The number of flowers a pistil has is proportional to that of the stamens they had sex with. In this fic, pistils with many flowers are considered promiscuous and experience slut shaming based on religion.

Marked - The term used to describe a pistil who has received a stamen’s flower on their body.

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here. 

@jooniesxbby @taegeum

[xadian-daydreams]

What's been mentioned for the Dragon Prince Season 6: Book Stars so far...

Having listened and read a bunch of interviews, here's my collected notes (Updated for October 2023);

No current release date, but confirmed 9 episodes, same as previous seasons.

Seasons Four though Seven are all the Mystery of Aaravos arc.

While there's not going to be any real time skip between S5 and S6, there will be a small one within S6. Update - there's a few days time skip between S5 and S6.

Season 6 will be more mature to the point the age rating is increasing. It will also go into deeper emotional stuff - "fans should enjoy the breather before being emotionally wrecked by the next book."

(Most of) Episode 1 of season 6 was shown at NYCC 2023 panel. Notes on summaries people have posted here.

New characters to be introduced;

Astrid - voiced by Boone Williams - Female Celestial Skywing elf. She's mysterious and there's 'something cool' about her design.

Character based off Moonberry Surprise.

A new Startouch elf. Possibly the Merciful One (they/them) from the Sea of the Castout statues.

Upcoming for main characters;

Callum - every time you do dark magic, it becomes harder to come back from it. Info on Callum birth-father. (Callum and learning Moon Arcanum - Giehl's opinion is doesn't want Callum treading on Rayla's thematic territory and stealing her thunder). Rayllum note - how would Callum using dark magic affect the trust and friendship they've been building up?

Rayla - On the curse coins - too spoilery, so they won't answer questions related to that. On Rayllum note. Would Rayla do anything for Callum? And what would Callum call upon her to do if that was the case? Questions getting asked next season, just to make you suffer.

Callum, Rayla and Stella confirmed visiting the Starscraper.

Ezran - sticking to his ideals and pacifism will be tested. Rough and tough decision(s).

At some point Ezran and Callum will visit some 'weird' ruins.

Soren - has had lighter seasons so far, but is about to face darker questions. There is trauma that the writers haven't told anyone about that will come to light at some point. Soren is getting an opportunity to confront Viren about what happened at the Storm Spire (they did meet up in S4E7, which is covered in the short story Strangers, but writers felt it lacked the satisfaction needed, as neither really was in the headspace to talk), but uncertain if this is just a therapy thing or if Viren lives.

There's going to be a funny Soren and Corvus story later on.

Claudia - S5 she was under a lot of pressure, and it's not easing up. How will Claudia be impacted by Viren's decision - further into darkness or pulled back into the light? Claudia being willing to risk life and limb for her goal(s) - and then actually paying the cost of a limb - what does that mean for her and Terry?

Karim - is about to get in over his head. He doesn't realise the kind of alliances he's making.

Amaya and Janai don't get enough love in these interviews. 😢

Zym - Goes with Soren to find Zubeia. Spoiler indicates Zym has a heart to heart with her

Characters we'll be seeing more of;

Aaravos - there's a lot more of him coming in S6.

Kim'dael - 'big plans' that even go beyond the show, though specifically refused to answer if she'll met Rayla again (they met first time in Bloodmoon Huntress graphic novel).

More with the pirates and Scumport (however, Finnegrin while not confirmed dead, won't make a reappearance in S6/7). Scumport set up a bunch of stuff for going into season 6.

Kpp'Ar - confirmed there'll be more stuff about him in both S6 and S7.

Mukho - the mushroom mage, Earthblood elf who's a world expert mycologist.

More shadowpaw content.

Possibly Ellis and Ava briefly, but could be S7.

Lore -

The lore about Stars primal and Startouch elves and other mythology will be explored. How you kill a Startouch elf will be answered - including more info on Laurelion (mentioned in the Death of an Immortal poem).

(Going by how the graphic novels releases are generally introducing things that are mentioned in the next season, Puzzle House's emphasize on unicorns, and how there is a big bit of unicorn lore mentioned in the novels, is a good hint that this unicorn lore is getting explained in show too. But, just to clarify, it's not confirmed this is happening - however, it is a impactful bit of backstory and there's only 2 seasons left).

Most likely information about how Primal Stones are made - specifically how a storm was trapped from the top of Mount Kalik to create the Primal Stone Callum smashed. Ehasz mentioned that something brought up in the second episode will be expanded on in S6, and the info about the Sky Primal Stone is the only info that hasn't been addressed elsewhere from E2 that I could pick out.

More lore about golems (as in the rock guardians and Elmer)

Other notes;

Season 6 will have an explosive start.

Questions raised by Ehasz;

Was the dragang moving Aaravos's prison smart or would it have been safer to have left it? It's something they'll grapple with right away.

Is Aaravos being honest with Viren about what's going to happen? (I'm wording it as being honest rather than saying is he lying, as Aaravos's thing is manipulative truths and misdirections etc, rather than outright lies).

No context: 🔥 (Can't help looking at the use of explosive start by the NYCC notification)

There's stuff in Season 2 that will get explained in Season 6 - while they're not exactly clues, there will be referencing from S2.

Keep an eye on changes in the openers - they're continuing the hints - like when they swapped out Viren with Callum to let you know Callum and dark magic/Aaravos is going to be in the episode.

Season 7 will be Book 7: Dark.

The next graphic novel will be about "family and building trust." Update: Title Dreamer's Nightmare

Can young Ezran and Callum quell the brewing storm in the quiet town of Noct, or have bad dreams come to haunt for good?

Giehl says this story has Ezran as the lead character and the artist said they enjoyed doing the many animals.

There were hints dropped at NYCC 2023 that there may be other projects based on the Dragon Prince world, but they'll come under a different name. TDP will only be the 7 seasons. (Most hints I've seen suggest they may be working towards an Orphan Queen film/series, but it could also be a continuation).

Sources; Hot Brown Morning Potion Podcast E27 Reel James Season 5 interview with Aaron Ehasz AIPT Comics 'The Dragon Prince creators dish on season 5 post-mortem AnimationWorld: The Dragon Prince Season 5, a swashbuckling blend of design tricks and emotional turmoil Screenrant SDCC 2023: The Dragon Prince creators on taking the Mystery of Aaravos past Season 5 CBR: The Dragon Prince creators reveal the secrets of Season 5 and the road to Season 6 ComicBook: The Dragon Prince creators talk season 5 and entering the show's Empire Strikes Back era Game of Nerds: SDCC 2023 The Dragon Prince All Aboard for Season 5 Official Discord Season 4 Q&A NYCC 2023 panel Secrets in the Stars Random tweets and Discord stuff from the creators and official social media.

[theostrophywife]

lavender haze.

masterlist (rhys x reader) author's note: i missed rhys so much so here's our high lord in all his glory. summary: during your visit at the day court to celebrate the sunrise festival, you and helion get a little too friendly, but rhys is more than happy to remind you that he's the only high lord you'll ever kneel for.

The Sunrise Festival was the most anticipated celebration in the Day Court. 

You’ve been looking forward to it ever since Helion extended an invitation to the Inner Circle. Rhysand had regaled you with stories of the lavish festivity. Held on the longest day of the year, the citizens of the Day Court gathered at the High Lord’s palace to welcome the rising of the sun. The celebration included an offering ceremony, traditional dances, and the ever flowing supply of the famed golden wine of the land. 

Needless to say, you hardly slept the night before you were set to depart Velaris. 

Given the early start of the festival, you’d woken up in the twilight hours to get ready for your departure. Luckily, you didn’t have to put much thought to your attire since Helion sent a dress along with his invitation. It was an exquisite, flowing gown made of the purest white fabric. You carefully pulled on the silky fabric, admiring the sweetheart neckline dotted with intricate golden beading. The free flowing material spilled over your shoulders and ended in gilded cuffs that tied perfectly around your wrists. You were in the process of zipping up the back when you heard a knock on the door. 

“Come in.” 

The High Lord strides into the room with his graceful, feline elegance and stops short behind you in the mirror. A small smile graces your lips as Rhysand pauses and gives you a non discrete once-over. 

“You’re just in time, Rhys.” You beckoned the male over. “Can you help me zip this up?” 

For all his swagger and elegance, Rhysand seemed to be at a loss for words as he made his way over to your vanity. You were well aware of the growing tension between you and the High Lord. Ever since your mother sent you to be the emissary of the kingdom of Atlantia, fate seemed to bring you and Rhys closer and closer together. Thanks to your efforts, land and sea were officially locked into an alliance, which meant that your duties often took you above surface. 

As the Crowned Princess of the Seven Seas, you were expected to herald Atlantia into a new age and part of those expectations included establishing a strong presence within the courts of Prythian. Luckily, Rhysand was more than happy to provide his assistance. 

The High Lord stood behind you now, his slender fingers hovering over your skin as his lavender gaze met yours in the mirror. 

“New dress?” he rasped in a low, husky tone. 

The corner of your lips quirk up into a smile as he slowly brushes your long hair over your shoulder. “Courtesy of Helion. He thought it fitting to provide appropriate attire for today’s festivities.”

Rhys murmured as he pulled the zipper taut. “How generous of him.” 

“Is that a hint of jealousy I sense, Rhys?” 

The male smirks and the action lights up his handsome face. Rhysand finishes fastening your dress before leaning over, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. A wicked gleam sparkles in those smoldering eyes of his as he brings his lips to the shell of your ear. 

“Helion can dress you up however he likes,” the High Lord purrs. “But we both know that I’m going to be the one peeling this off of you by the end of the night.”

You chuckle at the sheer certainty of his declaration. Rhysand was a shameless flirt, but you couldn't deny that you enjoyed the push and pull between you. Despite this little game of cat and mouse, neither one of you had done anything about the growing sexual tension in your friendship. What Rhysand was waiting for, you didn’t know. But you had a feeling that the other shoe would drop soon.

“In your dreams, High Lord.”

“You should know,” he taunted. “You’re in them often enough.”

You turned over in your seat, carefully surveying the handsome High Fae male before you. As always, Rhysand was dressed impeccably in a dark fitted suit that matched his onyx locks. The fabric hugged his tall, muscular form and the front of his silk shirt dipped low to reveal an expanse of golden brown skin marred by inky, swirling tattoos. His dark hair was pushed back with a few tendrils falling over his impossibly handsome face.

There was no denying that the High Lord of Night was the most beautiful male you’d ever laid eyes on. 

And the cocky bastard knew it. 

An amused grin tugged at his lips, but before he could voice his sinful thoughts, Cassian’s head peeked through your open door. 

“If you two are done flirting, the rest of us are ready to depart.”

Rhysand shot his brother a dirty look before holding out his hand. “Are you ready, Princess?” 

“Lead the way, High Lord.” 

Golden rays of sunlight pierced through the peach and rose tinted horizon as you winnowed to the entrance of the Day Court Palace. The towering building was enormous—a combination of marble towers, sandstone pillars, and generous golden trimming that reflected the early morning light. 

A sudden rush of wind lifted your skirts around your waist as a looming figure landed directly in your path. Seated upon a large winged horse the color of scorched night, the High Lord of Day smiled down at you. Helion dismounted from his pegasus and bowed before you. 

“Princess, it’s a pleasure to welcome you to my home.” The handsome male took your hand in his, lifting your knuckles to his lips. “The tales do not do your beauty justice.”

“You flatter me, Helion.” You tilted your chin to the majestic creature beside him. “Meallan is a beauty to behold, as is your wonderful court. Rhysand was kind enough to brief me on the traditions of the Sunrise Festival and I for one, am excited to partake in the celebrations.” 

Helion smirked. “Rhysand has monopolized you long enough. I was beginning to think that you’d enchanted him with your siren song.” 

The High Lord of Night chuckled. “The Crowned Princess is enchanting, but I’m under no spell. I’m afraid I’ve gotten a little greedy with our emissary all on my own.”

“I can’t say I blame you, old friend. It’s not every day that the Day Court opens its doors to the most exquisite siren in all the seven seas.”

“Easy, Helion.” You tease, nodding at Rhysand. “We wouldn’t want to make Rhys jealous.” 

Wicked violet eyes glimmered with a silent challenge. “I suppose we should join the rest of your court, dear friend. Before I come to my senses and whisk the Princess away.” 

The High Lord of Day was all too glad to escort your group into his lavish garden. All around you, High Fae and faerie alike were dressed in varying shades of white, blush, peach, and gold, mirroring the rising sun. The crowd held their breath as light seeped over the palace, enveloping you in the brilliance of a new day. 

Helion’s voice boomed across the open space, his spiked golden crown glittering in the light as he addressed his court. 

“The Day Court welcomes the herald of a new day. May the sun bring us a bountiful harvest and light our days with its brilliance.” His gaze snags on your group. “On this day of celebration, we recognize our honored guests. Please give a warm welcome to the High Lord of the Night Court and his family, Mor, Amren, Cassian and Azriel. Last but not least, allow me to introduce the Crowned Princess of the Seven Seas.”

You smiled at the crowd, waving as they applauded your group. Helion offered you his arm and you gladly took it. He stopped before a small altar, pointing to a bow and arrow. 

“Would you do the honors, princess?”

Shooting the flaming arrow through a hoop across the garden was one of the Day Court’s many traditions of celebrating the Sunrise Festival. Rhysand had filled you in on the possibility of having to perform the ancient rite and you’d come prepared. You pulled back your robes, unsheathing the trident tied across your back. 

“Would a trident do the trick?”

Helion laughed in delight. “By all means.”

The High Lord of Day directed his light onto your weapon and it ignited with golden flames. You caught Rhysand’s gaze and he offered you a knowing smile.

In one swift move, you threw the trident through the ring. The flames spread throughout the golden hoop and the crowd cheered in response. Your weapon whistled through the hoop again, the fire extinguishing as your power snaked through it in watery tendrils. 

Rhysand’s gaze never left yours as you sheathed the trident against the column of your spine. 

“Let the celebrations begin,” Helion boomed. 

At the command of the High Lord, revelry and celebration bloomed all around you. Helion took your hand and led you into one of their traditional dances. You threw your head back in laughter as he twirled you around. 

Circles formed all around the garden and music streamed through the open space as you picked up the pace. You’ve attended plenty of celebrations in Atlantia, but nothing quite like this. 

The whole court seemed to come alive with the rising of the sun. The light shone a little brighter, the wine tasted a little stronger, and the laughter boomed a little louder. You danced and drank and ate for hours on end. 

Helion proved to be a great companion and he regaled you with jokes and stories for the majority of the day. You took turns dancing with Cassian and Azriel. Laughing as you linked arms with the Illyrians and switched with Mor and Amren. 

But Rhysand didn’t join you. He lingered on the outskirts, cradling a glass of that infamous golden wine and tipping it in your direction. 

Gods, there was a beauty to this male that nothing in the seven seas could compare to. 

You wanted him and you knew he wanted you too, but perhaps Rhys needed a little encouragement.

The sun was setting when the festivities finally came to an end and you found yourself hobbling through the now empty garden. Rhysand walked beside you, chuckling as you braced yourself against the wall to kick off your heels. 

“Someone had a little too much fun, didn’t they?” 

You groaned, gathering your shoes in your hands. “Remind me again why I chose to wear these death traps?” 

“Because your legs look sinfully delicious in them, darling,” Rhysand declared, never missing a beat.

“Been thinking about my legs an awful lot, Rhysie?”

The High Lord smirked. “Amongst other things.”

Rhysand didn’t give you time to respond before he hiked you over his shoulders, securing your legs around his waist. “Now come on, princess. I believe our quarters are this way.”

You giggled as he gave you a piggyback ride through the large palace. “Our quarters?”

“With adjoining rooms,” Rhys explained. “Don’t worry, darling. I won’t come into your bedchambers. Unless you invite me in.” 

A shiver went down your spine at that. You chuckled in his ear, fastening your arms around his chest. “You’re a shameless flirt, Rhysand.”

“Maybe so, but you seem to be enjoying it and at the end of the day, that’s all that really matters.”

You blush in response, grateful that he couldn’t see your face. 

Just like Rhys said, Helion prepared a suite with adjoining rooms for the two of you. The High Lord set you down in front of your door and handed your shoes over. 

“Thank you, Rhys.”

The Illyrian grinned, leaning against your door. “Don’t mention it, princess.” 

Without your heels, he towered a good foot over you. His violet eyes shimmered with wicked delight as he smirked down at you, his handsome face mere inches away from yours. You studied the planes of his face—the sharp jawline, the aquiline nose, the dark, fluttering lashes that kissed the tops of his impossible high cheekbones and his lips—full and sensual and beckoning you for a taste. 

You licked your lips. “I suppose this is where we say good night.” 

Stars wink into existence within that deep violet gaze as his eyes dipped down to your mouth. Rhysand leaned in closer, his hand reaching out to cup your cheek. “I suppose so, princess.”

Electricity crackled between you. The tension filled the room, making everything feel hot and stifling. Your dress felt too tight and the room too small. 

“Rhys?” you whispered.

“Yes?”

“Kiss me.”

The High Lord didn’t hesitate as he snaked his arms around your waist. Citrus and sea enveloped your senses and finally his lips were on yours. Rhysand’s kiss filled you with pleasure and relief. All the tension that had been building for months came to a head as you tasted the delicious combination of faerie wine and mint on his lips. It was intoxicating and you felt your head swimming with desire.

You were so lost in Rhysand that the loud knock at the door didn’t even register at first. Rhys groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes fluttered open, lashes kissing your nose as he exhaled.

“Our gracious host.” 

You giggled. “Helion has shit timing.” 

“Tell me about it.”

You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I’ll take care of it.”

Rhysand watched as you smoothed down the front of your dress, smirking. You winked back at him before opening the door. 

The High Lord of Day greeted you with a grin. “Settling in?”

You smiled. “Yes, thank you. The rooms are lovely.”

“Only the best for you, princess.” The handsome lord leaned against the doorway. “I personally picked out the new mattress. Though it’s not as comfortable as the one in my own private bedchambers. You’re welcome to test it out if you’d like.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Helion was entirely shameless in inviting you to his bed and it was honestly sort of flattering. 

Rhysand stepped into view, snaking an arm around your waist. “I think we’ll take your word for it, old friend.”

A knowing smile spread across Helion’s face. “Very well,” the High Lord states. “If you change your mind, just know that the invitation extends to the both of you.”

You nearly snorted at his blatant invitation for a threesome. “We’ll keep that in mind, Helion.”

The High Lord of Day bowed before closing the door.

You turned upon Rhysand, smirking. “What happened to letting me take care of it?” 

“Patience has never really been my strong suit.” Rhys tugged you by the hand, pressing you flush against his chest. “And I’ve never been a fan of sharing. Especially not when it comes to you, pretty girl.”

You pulled him down to you, giggling as he eagerly tried to catch your lips in a kiss. “Good thing I’m all yours tonight.”

You squealed in surprise as he hoisted you up. Rhysand chuckled, wrapping your legs around his waist and nipping at your bottom lip.

It didn’t take long to pick up where you left off. 

Rhysand carried you to your bedchamber and kicked the door open before slamming it shut without his lips leaving yours. You slipped your tongue past his parted lips and Rhys moaned, backing you up against the closed door.

He pinned you in place, his gaze roaming over your body with his hands following suit. “Do you want to know what I’ve been thinking about all day?” 

“Dying to know, Rhys.”

“Smartass.” The High Lord’s dark chuckle skittered over your skin as he pulled down the straps of your dress, grazing his teeth against your exposed collarbones. “I was thinking that you looked good enough to eat and I intend to savor every bite.”

You moaned as he unlaced your corset, deft fingers making quick work of your dress. Rhysand hoisted you up, his erection pressing against your clothed sex. He purred into your mouth as you palmed him through his trousers, eager to help him out of his clothing. 

The two of you shed your clothing until you were both laid bare in front of one another. You ran your hands over the hard planes of Rhysand’s muscles, admiring the way his tattoos flexed underneath that irresistibly soft, golden brown skin. It wasn’t long before you were tracing every loop and swirl with your tongue and Rhys wasn’t shy in letting you know just how much he liked it.

“What did you say about savoring every bite?” You teased, flicking your tongue over his abs. “Cause I’m pretty sure I don’t have the self control to do any of that right now.”

“Then by all means, devour me princess.”

The High Lord inhaled sharply as you kneeled before him. You trailed wet, hot kisses down his torso, licking, nipping, and sucking until you reached his cock. Rhysand groaned as you pumped his shaft. He looked down at you through heavy lids, his fingers fisting in your hair as he watched you wrap your lips around his sensitive head. 

"Do you like when I kneel for you, High Lord?"

Rhysand took a shuddering breath as you licked the bead of precum gathered on his tip and swallowed. "It's the most exquisite sight I've ever seen. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth."

It was thrilling to witness him shudder above you, all that arrogance and bravado melting away as you took him all the way in. You worked him with one hand while suctioning your cheeks, eager to hear his soft moans and breathy sighs. 

“That mouth of yours is as wicked as I thought it would be, darling.” Rhys growled, his violet eyes glowing with lust. 

You hummed in appreciation, the sound reverberating through his cock. A growl ripped through his chest and you smirked against him. Rhysand was growing desperate, bucking himself into your mouth while you pumped him harder and faster.

The whole room seemed to tremble as you brought him over the edge, basking in the way he tipped his head back while his lips parted in utter bliss. Rhysand pumped his seed into your mouth and you swallowed every drop, milking him until he nearly collapsed against the wall. 

You released him with a pop, wiping the side of your mouth with a satisfied smile as the High Lord stared at you in awe and wonder. 

There was nothing but want and need dancing in his gaze as he flipped you against the wall, caging you in place with his towering figure. He kissed you roughly, hard enough to bruise and you wended your legs around his waist pulling him closer until every inch of your skin touched. 

“Gods, Rhys.” You breathed, staring up at this wonderful, beautiful male. “I want you. I’ve been thinking about this all day. Longer than that. I need to feel you.”

That’s all you had to say for him to lose all semblance of control. The both of you were in a frenzy as he gripped his cock and teased along your folds, coating himself with your juices before easing his way in. 

“Fuck—“ Rhysand groaned as your walls hugged tightly around him. “You feel exactly as heavenly as I imagined, pretty girl.” He let out a dark chuckle when he saw the blush coloring your cheeks. “I changed my mind about savoring this. I think I’m in the mood to ravish you instead, princess. Is that what you want?”

You kissed him, conveying your response through the desperation of your actions. 

The Illyrian male took it as an encouragement and thrusted into your pussy, filling you to the hilt as you back arched against the wall. You held on tightly as Rhys rutted into you, matching his rhythm with a steady grind of your hips. 

The moans escaping from your mouth were broken up by sensual, erotic kisses that only heightened your arousal. It felt like you were both trying to crawl into each other’s skin. Your tongues danced, licking and tasting while Rhysand made good on his promise to ravage you. He shifted his hips, switching to a different angle that had him touching that magical spot within your walls. 

“Holy gods, Rhys.” You choked out, barely biting back a whimper. “I love the way you feel inside of me. I could never get enough of you.”

“My filthy girl. If only you knew how many times I’ve imagined doing this.” Rhys slammed his hips against yours, eliciting an explicit sound to tumble past your lips. “I fantasized about the sounds you’d make. How you’d look. What it would be like to fuck you until we were both out of our godsdamned minds, but none of my fantasies even come close to the real thing.”

You clawed at his back, losing it at his filthy confession. You’d never felt this aroused in your entire life. 

“Feels so good, baby. Don’t stop, Rhys. I want all of it. All of you.”

The two of you were coated in sweat as you fucked each other senseless. The sound of skin slapping against skin picked up its erotic rhythm and you felt yourself chasing that familiar high. Rhysand’s breathing quickened as he felt your walls convulse around his cock, signaling the approach of your orgasm. 

“Gonna cum, pretty girl?” You murmured into his mouth and he laughed, drinking in your desperation. “Yeah? I can feel your pussy gripping me so tightly. Go on then, princess. Cum with me.”

Rhysand slammed into you hard and fast, pushing the both of you over the edge. The intensity of the shared orgasm pulsates through every fiber of your being and you could’ve sworn that your soul left your body for a split second. 

It was that good. 

Rhysand was that good. 

He filled you up, his hot cum spilling into you as the High Lord roared. There was something so hot about the way he came undone just for you. 

A beat of silence passed as you both collapsed onto the floor, inches away from a perfectly good bed. Rhysand tucked you into his arms, kissing your temple. He gently brushed the hair out of your face and caressed your arms, tracing your soft skin with his rough, calloused fingers.

“It’s rather rude of us not to test out that new mattress, isn’t it darling?” 

You chuckled. “Getting greedy now, aren’t we Rhysie?”

The High Lord pecked your cheek. “I only meant that we should cuddle, princess. Unless you’re already ready for round two.”

“I don’t think I’d survive another round of fucking against the wall,” you teased. “My dress sure as hell didn’t.” 

You pointed at the white fabric bunched up on the floor, its laces tattered and torn. It almost made you feel bad. Almost.

“It’s alright, princess." Rhysand hooked his arms behind your back and legs, lifting you up bridal style. You giggled as he pecked your cheek. "You look better in Night Court colors anyways.”

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