#the lady is looking at them with sheer disappointment

[captainsaltypear]

getting arrested by the universal stability agency.......WITH STYLE.

[critter-coded]

Reclaiming "Female" Through Therianthropy

This is my submission for the "My Gender is Not Human" zine. Here, I discuss how I realized I was not transgender because of my therianthropy and I hope that maybe someone else may relate and understand themselves in a new way. ♡

If you want to wait to read this until the Zine is released, then do not continue past the "keep reading" portion. Otherwise, enjoy!

PS: If this interests you, I'd strongly advise playing Shelter 2 (where I got the photo below from) as it relates a lot to my own experience.

CW: Body issues, misogyny

Can you imagine the scent of the velvet fuzz of a newborn animal? The experience of a dark den now filled with new life, life that hasn't even opened its eyes yet to the winter world just outside? Can you imagine the tiredness yet sheer love and comfort of having your children welcomed into the world, witnessed only by you and the Earth’s soil?

It's something I often dream of, and it's that very experience that made me realize that I am not transgender. It's funny because in this community, it feels as though the majority of individuals here are transgender and that experience ties closely into their nonhumanity. For me, the opposite occurred. I had a top surgery letter in my hand after years of feeling “not quite right” in my body or in how people perceived me. I had every reason to feel this way and to want this, even if it felt imperfect. Looking back, I remember how I got to this point.

“Be skinnier any way you can, it’ll make you prettier” they’d say as they, themselves, were ironically obese and I loved them no less for it.

“Grow your hair long and change your clothes, you’ll look more like a lady.” A projection rooted in the ideals of someone who reads far too much Jane Austen.

“Women should be subservient and provide endlessly, or they’re selfish.”

Dread set in every time I filled someone’s coffee or plate of food due to expectation or demand and not out of love and kindness. Everytime the topic of how I looked in a dress or how my hair wasn’t as long as someone else wanted. The disappointment of my family when they learned I had dated other women in the past and their relief when I dated one man. The eyerolls and my teacher’s discouragement when I expressed an interest in physics or chemistry. Even my finance degree was achieved through apparent luck despite graduating top of my class. Every “right” I accomplished was met with a “wrong” in some new category. The very things that made men impressive made me disobedient. I starved myself to look a little nicer to strangers, cried in bed after being talked down to at work, slept away all of my sorrows in a curled up ball. Humanity didn’t take kindly to me.

It frustrated me, and combined with my general lack of identity at the time along with diagnosed CPTSD, it was easy to relate to the plight that transgender individuals experienced. Surely that had to be me, but the label and being perceived as something besides female never clicked entirely. I figured that I may just have mild gender dysphoria instead, but for the first time, I really deep dived into what it meant to identify as a gender as everyone was needing urgent, permanent decisions to be made on my end. Around this time, I took on my first mammal label which was a feline. Ironically, cats are often the first animals to be associated with femininity and to be mistreated because of it.

I wanted motherhood, but I wanted my own kittens to rear more than I felt like I wanted to raise a human infant after spending time in a daycare and at a cat shelter. I didn’t want my breasts, but not because I wasn’t a girl, that’s just how other animals are. Perfume was a method to mark the rooms I had been in, not for elegance. I still felt so female, yet I didn’t see another way out besides transitioning until it occurred to me: what if I didn’t have to be a “woman”, and instead, I could simply be female the way animals are female? 

There were so many women like me such as in Brave, Princess Mononoke, Poor Things, or Wolf Children. The women who strayed from polite society to walk their own paths and stuck to their own desires. Even my own cat was female and yet held her chin so high and demanded when she would or would not be held. This realization was the first time I found myself feeling feral freedom and uninhibited beauty in the way I was. I was going to be the woman that rolls in the dirt, who is unapologetically beautiful in her own way, who chases after whatever her wild heart desires. I am not transgender, but I am not entirely a woman. I am an animal, and I am female in all of its unbridled ways.

Shedding my domestic cat label, I have taken up the title of bobcat. With it, I swear on my name that I will bite the hand of any who wish to tame or domesticate me ever again. I have been released out of the crate and back into the wilderness where I belong, and I shall never look back down the mountain. I feel the moss beneath my paws, the cold breeze kissing my nose, the smell of rain soaked woods and wildflowers. Ravens cry as I run on four legs towards the peak, released at last from the grips of mankind. I feel the warmth of a life suddenly worth living, growing along with the hair I now reclaim as my own fur without shame or expectation. I am home at the summit of my own world.

My spirit runs wild, and she is female.

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

The continuation for that Alcina fic was fucking deliciousssssss skdjfskldfj

It got me thinking, I'm not sure if you've written a fic like this before or if you would even write one like this, but I was wondering what that situation (or one similar to it) would look like from Alcina's POV?

Hello, dears ♥️ In preparation for reaching ✨1,750 followers✨, I've been working on a little fic that was inspired by both this ask 🔺🔺🔺 (thank you 👀 I'm so glad you liked it jdhddjkd) , as well as this incredible piece of fanart!

But first and foremost:

Thank you all for following! 💋

And as for the request, here you go! Written from Alcina's POV and just under 3k words 👀 I hope some of you will enjoy it! 😁♥️

The Lady found herself in a foul mood as she made her way back into the castle. Met with nothing but absolute silence as she opened the large doors and walked into the even larger foyer. Of course, she expected no one else to be awake at this hour, save for her daughters who were still out on the hunt. Though, as she made her way slowly up the staircase, a faint sound could be heard traveling its way softly through the corridors. A quiet, subtle melody hummed just barely loud enough to be heard. But, of course, she heard it. She heard everything that happened within those castle walls - even when she cared not to.

“The audacity.. sneaking out at this hour.” She grumbled to herself, following the haunting sound. Her foul mood turning even more sour when she realized that her hopes of getting directly into a hot, soothing bath had been swiftly thwarted. Instead making it so she'd likely have to discipline someone instead. She sighed as the voice grew louder, leading her directly into the library.

A Countess' work is never done, Alcina, she thought to herself tiredly. Of course it wasn't. Why should she be able to enjoy the solitude of a hot bath and a glass of her favorite wine after running through the woods chasing after man-things all night? She huffed at the air, frustrated - irritation riddling her weary bones as she opened the doors to the large room - the soft humming immediately halting as she did.

“There's no use in hiding, dear. I may be tired, but I can still smell you from here.”

A murmured curse in response from a voice she knew all too well. She sighed again.

“Draga.. of all the nights to be breaking curfew..”

The Countess was in no mood and she could feel her patience wearing thinner by the minute. Of all people.

“Come out, pet, now.” She ordered through gritted teeth.

Slowly, the figure of her current paramour came hesitantly out from behind the bookstacks and into view. Skin pale and a look of sheer panic on their face.

“Alcina-”

“I don't believe now is the time for such informalities.” She responded sternly, cutting them short.

They swallowed nervously. “Right, of course. S-sorry, my lady. I.. I thought you were out for the night?”

Alcina scoffed. “As if that gives you the right to be disobeying my direct orders? Hm? Traipsing around the castle at all hours of the night.”

“N-no… it's just.. I-”

“Save it, pet. I am in no mood for excuses and you're the last person I wanted to have to discipline tonight.”

She rubbed the bridge of her nose and moved further into the room. A profound wave of exhaustion washing over her that forced a slight stumble to her stride.

When was the last time she had even fed? She wondered.

“My lady? Are.. are you alright?”

“It's nothing.” She snarled.

“Countess.. I am.. very sorry for disappointing you. And I know you're angry with me.” The human’s voice softened a little as they moved closer to her, fidgeting anxiously with their fingers. “But, if there is anything I can do? You know, to help.”

“There is.” She growled, “You can start by not being so incompetent!”

This time the words that came out were raw, primal - dipped in venom - the dragon within her inching closer and closer to the surface as her need to feed grew stronger. Albeit, the moment she saw her handservant flinch - coiling back at her words - she couldn't help but soften. Sighing, she turned to face them.

“I am sorry, draga. I seemed to have lost myself. While, yes, I am disappointed that you disobeyed the rules of this castle - you did not.. deserve that.” Alcina sat down in the chair closest to the fireplace and took a deep breath, her body overcome with exhaustion. “I fear it has been too long since I last fed. Which makes being around me at the moment rather.. dangerous. It would be for the best that you return to your quarters for now, pet. I'll deal with your punishment in the morning.”

“Oh. Of course, my lady.”

They bowed and then turned to leave before pausing.

“Uh.. Alcina?” They asked tentatively.

The Countess looked up, eyes heavy. “Hm?”

“Ah, if I may - you could.. use me.. if you wanted?”

Alcina raised an eyebrow. “Use you? How?”

“Ah.. heh.. that is, to feed? From me?”

The Countess stared blankly, shocked for a moment before shaking her head. “That's not necessary, draga. I have everything I need in my room.”

“I'm aware.. but.. you know. You're obviously quite exhausted and I'm.. well, I'm right here.”

They gave her a crooked little smile that she couldn't help but chuckle at.

“If you're trying to get out of your punishment, pet-”

“N-no! I'll fully accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate. I just.. want to help, is all.”

“Mmh..” The lady hummed in thought, mulling their very tempting offer. She was exhausted, this was true. And it'd been longer than she could recall since she’d had the taste of fresh blood in her mouth. Warm and pulsing and straight from the tap.

Still..

With the dragon in her so close to the surface, the worries of her losing control were imminent. And the thought of losing yet another partner - one as sweet and caring as they were, again - was almost too much of a thought to handle. Alcina physically shuddered at the thought, the warmth from the fire doing very little to calm her worries. Worries that her handservant must have quickly picked up on. Small fingers sliding into her own and a kind face looking up at her as they kneeled on the castle floor in front of her.

“Hey, I trust you.”

Alcina snorted. “Famous last words, pet.”

They chuckled softly. “How about this then.. is there maybe another part of my body that would be safer to drink from? Than say, my neck?”

The Lady smirked. “Mh, perhaps... your inner thigh would probably work.”

Alcina watched as a soft pink hue began to crawl across the human's cheeks. It was strikingly gorgeous basked in the firelight.

“O-oh.. well, ah.. that seems.. doable.”

A flash of crimson as her smirk widened. Her lover’s heartbeat quickening by the minute, thumping loudly over the soft crackle of the fire.

“Mhm.. are you certain? It may… hurt, quite a bit.”

Oh, how that blush grew even deeper at the Countess’ words. How exquisite it was. Alcina could feel the smugness seeping into the corners of her lips as she watched them fluster.

“I.. oh.. that's okay. I don't mind, my lady. R-really.” They replied, rubbing the back of their neck.

Not that they would've been the first of Alcina's suitors to be into pain. Far from it, in fact - it seemed to be a commonality in many of the lovers she had taken over the years. Whether it was just something that came with the territory - or more the fact that whenever they looked at her they found themselves thinking “big lady, break me” - either way, it was a noticeably recurring occurrence in the Countess’ love life.

“Very well.” Alcina replied, rising from the chair to her full height. “Pull up your skirt, pet, and take a seat.”

As dutiful as ever, her servant quickly obeyed and took their Lady's place on the large chair. A coy smile on their face as they pulled the simple fabric of their uniform past their upper thighs, exposing their supple flesh along with their dampened undergarments.

“Like this?” They asked with a smirk.

“Bold time for you to be acting bratty, pet. Don't you think?”

“Ah.. m-maybe?” They answered sheepishly.

“Mhm.”

And even though the Countess’ tone remained firm, she could only shake her head and chuckle as she lowered herself down to the fresh, warm meal that waited for her. A deep flush decorating the human’s cheeks as the Lady knelt in front of them, hands spreading their legs a little further apart for her.

“O-oh.. uh.”

The Countess looked at them curiously before leaning back. “If you're having second thoughts, pet-”

“N-no! I just.. ah.. this view is just.. really nice.”

An even smugger smirk grew across the Lady's lips. “Mhm.. is it now?”

“I mean.. yes?”

“Enjoy it while it lasts then, draga.. very rarely does one ever get me on my knees.”

The flushed servant almost choked in response as they quickly nodded, face as red as their employer’s lips.

“I.. mhm.. enjoying it. Yes.”

“Mh.. probably wet at just the sight, aren't you?” Alcina asked teasingly, forcing them to whine.

“A-alcinaa.. that's unfair.”

“And that's not an answer.”

The Countess' words grew a little darker, punctuating them with a firm scratch across the human's inner thigh, immediately pulling droplets of warm crimson to the surface.

They cursed. “Fine.. yes.. I am.”

“Mh.. good.”

A single sweep of her tongue over the fresh gash forced another whine from her lover, a fierce shiver rolling over their body. Alcina knew she was going to enjoy all of this maybe a little too much - but the needy sounds she could will from their lips was something she would never grow tired of. And as she leaned in a little further, with their metallic essence still warm in her mouth, she could smell just how aroused they already were.

Very good.

"Deep breaths now, pet. This is going to sting.”

They nodded softly in response, cheeks a brilliant hue and eyes widening the moment the Countess’ incisors began to lengthen, readying themselves to feed. Another swirl of her tongue over the spot she'd already marked. A rush of blood right below the surface, drawing the vampire directly to the proper vein. And as she gave her meal a final smirk, she took their thigh between two large hands and brought it to her mouth.

“Mmmph-!”

Whimpered breaths from her prey’s lips as sharp fangs seeped eagerly into their flesh.

“Mmmh.”

A subtle moan from within her own as she slowly drew their essence into her mouth, savoring the exquisite flavor of them. They tasted even better than she’d imagined - sweeter, more refined - with metallic undertones fueled by a life force that only made her all the more hungry.

“You taste divine, draga.” Alcina murmured, her words reverberating deep into their skin before her fangs were sunk back in again.

“Ah-!”

The subtle flinch to the muscle that laid just beneath her teeth, the soft moan that fell from their whispered lips - the Countess knew if she didn't keep her control that she could very easily become ravenous for their taste. The pulse of it flowing warmly over her tongue as she swallowed it down, indulging herself in the life that danced throughout it.

They would surely make an excellent wine.

And even though the thought was morbid to most - to Alcina, it was merely a compliment. One of the highest in fact. Though, she found all the best tasting humans tended to be the ones she had no desire of actually killing. Ones that inherently touched her heart and moved her soul. But hell if she didn't appreciate any chance she got at a taste.

Her lover's growing moans were the only thing to bring her back from her thoughts - from giving into the primal force that always sat just under the skin - ready to take over. But gods, could she smell how wet they were for her. How their body squirmed every time she drew a long pull of blood from them. Their flesh heated against her lips, their strong musk enveloping the tiny space between them. And out of the corner of her eye, Alcina could even see that the chair beneath the human was readily growing damper.

”Good”. She thought smugly, a smirk beneath her blood coated lips when she finally pulled away to look up at them.

"Am I to believe you're actually enjoying this, draga? Are you really so needy?”

They whined at her ridicule, squirming even more - her teasing tone and slightly taunting words having the exact effect on them that she wanted.

“You will answer me if you expect something done about it.” She demanded.

Another whine.

“F-fuck.. yes, okay? It's.. it feels good.”

“Mh. Better.”

The Lady placed a gentle kiss to their inner thigh and then brought two fingers to the hem of their underwear, swiftly ripping the fabric from their body. Her patented smirk growing even wider the moment the measure of their arousal was reflected in the firelight - they were absolutely dripping for her.

“Well, well.. all this for me?”

“All for you. A-always.”

“Charming, are we?”

Alcina went to move a little closer but felt them tense, immediately making her stop. A single eyebrow raised at them inquisitively.

“Draga?”

“It's just.. you're exhausted, Alcina.. you don't have to-”

“Hush. When have you ever known me to do something I haven't wanted?”

They chuckled, blushing sheepishly. “You have a point.”

“Plus,” she smirked, “I'm not quite finished with my meal yet.”

An even deeper blush. “O-oh. Alright, then.”

The Countess hummed in content when her lover finally relaxed, their head falling softly back. Their sweet scent immediately pulling her back in, lips quickly finding their pulse point while her fingers teased their entrance. With soft folds so wet that she found barely any resistance as she slid two fingers into them, generously stretching their core.

“Mmph-!”

A single curl as the Countess closed her eyes, allowing her fangs to sink deep into the human’s flesh once again.

“F-fuck-”

She couldn't help but to draw her gaze upward, to enjoy the view for just a moment. Her stunning love - flushed, legs spread - eyes closed softly in a mix of want and preparation. It truly were a shame, she thought, how mortal humans could be. To lose such a gorgeous sight was an offense to Alcina’s very being. That the world could ever lose such beauty? It was a thought that made her all the more eager - almost ravenous - to possessively stake her claim upon them.

To which she did..

With the Lady's fangs seeped deep within their flesh and her fingers buried in their core. Thrusting, curling. Matching the controlled pulls from their thigh as she feasted upon them. With each movement willing the most arousing sounds from her lover. Some breathy, some loud - moaning each and every time Alcina drove her fingers in a little harder. But it wasn't enough, not for her. The Countess wanted more. She wanted her name screamed out into the night in ecstasy. She wanted her claim imprinted into the stars themselves.

And she paid no mind to how many orgasms ripped across her lover's body. She cared not for how soaked both her fingers and the fabric below her became. Having now fed to her content, her mouth began moving onto marking the rest of their thighs. Nibbling and sucking over every inch of eager flesh that she could reach. Their essence dripping from the corners of her mouth and painting their skin in a dark crimson. Their body trembling, vibrating with desire until another orgasm ripped through them violently, finally forcing the Countess’ name from their tongue like a pious prayer. Their voice quickly falling to nothing more than a whisper - raw from unhindered pleasure.

“F-fuck, Alcina..”

“Mh, language.”

“Pretty sure.. it's warranted.”

Alcina chuckled before licking the excess blood from her lover's wounds, their thighs sufficiently covered in her claim.

“These should heal in a few days. I'll bring you some balm for them tomorrow.”

“Hm.. I like them, though.” The human pouted.

The Countess snorted. “Of course you do. My sweet little masochist.”

Feeling fully refreshed from her meal, Alcina had no intention of sleeping anytime soon, but she knew her handservant would certainly need rest after all of that. The loss of blood mixed with the intense dopamine boost would be enough to wipe anyone out. Without muttering a word, Alcina rose to her full height and picked up her lover's discarded underwear before lifting them up into her arms and into a full bridal carry.

“My lady-!”

“Hush, draga. You've lost a fair amount of blood, as well as other bodily fluids. You need to rest.” Even with the short walk from the library to the servants quarters, the body in her arms quickly grew heavy with sleep - the human’s breath nearly in a slumbered rhythm by the time they’d arrived.

“I’ll be back with some tea and something sweet for you, pet.” She said as she laid them gently onto their bed. “Please, try to drink and eat at least a little something before falling asleep.”

Her lover nodded tiredly, eyes heavy and cheeks flush with sleep.

“Mhm.. yes.. mistress…”

Alcina smiled and placed a tiny kiss to their cheek before walking towards the door. She was more than certain they'd be fast asleep by the time she returned, but she’d still do her best to make sure they woke up knowing just how much she treasured them.

Warm tea, their favorite pastry, some balm for their wounds and a note reading "Thank you for the exquisite meal, draga. Next time is on me. - xx, Alcina." would be there to greet them as soon as they woke up.

A/N: If I ever make it to 2k, I might just finally do some bottom!Alcina for you all 👀♥️

[thestarlessdark]

The scene where Mitsuri's parents secretly watch her as she dyes her hair black in order to look like an acceptable bride is a scene I think about a lot.

The look of sheer pain and sadness on their faces feels like a punch in the gut to me, mainly because I've never encountered any parent who actually cares that much about their child. In fact, I nearly cried when I first saw that scene.

Where I live, first impressions are everything. If you mess up in front of others, you are seen as a disappointment and parents can go to almost any length to make their children seem like perfect angels in public, going as far as pressuring them to hide their true self and craft a more palatable persona for others to interact with.

Mitsuri's parents are the opposite of this. They love her for who she is and are never seen telling her to 'act like a lady,' which is amazing considering the time KNY takes place in. They are anguished instead of thrilled when they see Mitsuri trying to cover up her real personality.

Seeing parents truly love their child for who they are will never feel boring or overdone for me, considering how rare it is in real life.

[foreverdolly]

baby-bliss | daddy!austin butler x reader 

summary: it's austin's first interview since the birth of his son, and he can't keep from gushing about you and your new bundle of joy. will he regret it later? most definitely. did it feel good? oh, absolutely. will he ever hear the end of it from you? probably not.

pairings: daddy!austin butler x mommy!reader

word count: 2,809

warnings/notes: this is just tooth aching fluff, austin is literally the best daddy ever, and he worships the ground that you walk on, he refers to you as "his ole' lady", i wrote this in record breaking time.

masterlist | requests are currently open for business !

It was physically painful to leave you and his newborn at home. It had been a month and a half of baby-bliss, and despite the fact that neither of you had gotten over five hours of sleep in weeks, part of him wished that it would never end. Austin had always known that he wanted to be a father, ever since he was a little boy. To say that his life now felt complete would be an understatement. Things felt perfect, and for the first time in his life, Austin was fully content. All good things must come to an end though, and so whenever his manager called him over the weekend to tell him about his upcoming interview, he wasn’t necessarily shocked- just disappointed. Leaving you, even if it was just for a few hours, seemed absolutely impossible. What if his son did something cute that he missed out on? What if the two of you fell asleep on the floor in the nursery again and he wasn’t there to take pictures of it? What if there was an emergency and you needed him? His protective instincts over you had always been pretty crazy, but now? He felt like he could lift a car if need be. Becoming a father had completely rewired his brain. 

Austin was a nervous wreck as he walked out the front door, turning around to get one last look at you. “I’ll be home soon.” He assured you, watching as you smiled and nodded your head. “I know.” He started to make his way down the porch steps, stopping only to turn and face you once again. You had already started to close the front door. “Call me if you need anything, okay? I’ll have my ringer on the entire time.” He could hear you chuckle under your breath before you nodded your head, flashing him one last good look at the tiny bundle in your arms before shutting the door behind you. He groaned the entire way to the site. He just knew his son was doing something adorable without him there to see it. He could have thrown his phone the second that he checked it once he sat down in the makeup chair, seeing the pictures that you had already sent him. You had put the bear onesie on him- the one with the ears- and his heart nearly imploded. 

“Do you want to see something cute?” He couldn’t help himself. He needed to get it off of chest now before he sat down for the actual interview. The makeup artist was patient enough with him to stop what she was doing, but was quick to grab his phone to get a better look once he showed her the pictures. Pride swelled in her chest as he watched her eyes widen, her pointer finger sliding from side to side as she went through each and every one you had sent. “Oh, he’s absolutely precious.” He took the phone from her whenever she handed it back. “Isn’t he? Look at this one,” He chuckled at the picture of him glaring at the camera, obviously very annoyed about you having the hood pulled up and over his little head. “This is my first time being away from them in a month.” he closed his eyes as she began brushing a sheer powder over his nose and forehead. She hummed as she closed the compact, taking a step back to get a better look at him. “Well you should be back with them in no time,” Once she had made sure that he looked matte enough for the bright camera lights she flashed him a kind smile. “When I had to leave my twins for the first time I thought that I was going to die. I understand how you feel completely.” He stood up from the chair, brushing out his light wash jeans before nervously running his thumb against his wedding ring. He twisted the gold band around and around his ring finger, taking a second to ground himself. 

“So the new daddy finally leaves his cave.” Austin turned to face the source of the voice, wrinkling his nose at his manager’s teasing. The older woman walked up to him, giving him a tight hug. “Congratulations. y/n did absolutely phenomenal.” And god had you. For the first few weeks you had been horrified by the thought of unavoidable pain and had told him as well as your doctor that you would be having the baby in the hospital. You’d even gone as far as to have a consultation. As the months passed, so did your fear. Ever since you had first gotten pregnant you had gone a little crazy with making sure that everything was as clean and as safe as possible. You insisted on getting all of your produce from local farmers markets, made sure that next to nothing either of you ate came from a can, and threw anything away that might contain microplastics. When you had told Austin that you wanted to have an at home birth he had brushed it off as you just nesting. The weeks flew by, and your mind never changed. It wasn’t until the birthing tank was delivered to your house that it finally set in for him that you were really serious. 

You delivered your son with absolutely no medication. Even the midwife was shocked by how well you handled everything. 

Austin didn’t think it was possible for him to love you anymore than he already did, but the second he saw you holding his son? He knew for certain that he could never go even a second without you. He’d move heaven and earth for you. There was absolutely nothing that Austin wouldn’t do for you or provide for you. He reminded himself that this very reason was why he was at the interview in the first place. 

“The ol’ lady did amazing.” He gushed, before he began to worry his bottom lip between his teeth. The faster he got this over with, the sooner he could be home with you. “Are they ready for me?” The woman nodded before ushering him through the hallway and into a tightly packed room. 

The blue eyed man was familiar with the interviewer, and recognized her the second that he saw her. She was younger than he was, probably in her early twenties, and was most known amongst other actors for asking rather intrusive questions. Austin rolled his eyes, grabbing his manager by the arm and pulling her closer to his side. “Her? Really?” His manager’s eyebrows furrowed as she briefly made eye contact with the young woman across the room. “What’s wrong with her? I’ve heard she does great work.” She was quick to defend. Austin shook his head, leaning down closely to her ear so that he wasn’t overheard. “Did you see that interview she did with Tom Holland? If I were him, I would have stormed off camera.” The mousy haired brunette’s jaw dropped as she finally put two and two together. “I can see what I can do-” He cut her off by simply shaking his head, waving her off politely with his hand. It was too late now. He was already here, and the interviewer was staring at the two of them curiously now, no doubt wondering what they were whispering about. 

He stalked over to the empty seat across from the young woman, being careful that his long legs didn’t get tangled up in any of the loose wires. “It’s nice to finally be able to meet you.” The woman reached a hand out, flashing him a bright white smile. He slowly returned the sentiment, extending his palm so that he could give her hand a quick shake. 

After a few seconds of the crew moving the cameras around to get the best angle, the interviewer dropped her cue cards onto her lap, her lips pulling up into a dazzling smile. Austin shifted in his seat uncomfortably, dreading what was to come, but returned the smile nonetheless. “The Elvis biopic has finally made it to theaters after nearly three years of tireless work. I saw it with a few friends of mine the other night and was absolutely blown away by your performance.” 

“Thank you so much. This has been such a rewarding experience, and it was an honor to work alongside Baz and Tom.” She nodded her head, her eyes flashing down to her lap for a second. It was obvious that she had some sort of an angle that she wanted to go with this interview- he just prayed that he had the patience for it. “The film was shot in Australia, so I know that you had to largely uproot a lot of your life in order to prepare. How hard was it to upkeep personal relationships during that time- especially with Covid.” Her perky voice was grating. He was functioning off of three hours of sleep, and he could already feel a headache coming on. 

“Covid made everything a lot harder, but it wasn’t too difficult. I made sure to call my friends and family on a regular basis, so it wasn’t too bad. It was sad not being able to visit California as much as I would have liked to during that time, but it also gave me the opportunity to go more method with the role as well. Everyone’s reaction to the accent for the first couple of weeks was pretty funny. I wanted to make it sound as natural as possible though, so I kept up with it.” He smiled through the question, folding one leg over the other as he leaned his back against the folding chair. 

“Your girlfriend went with you to Australia, right? I follow you both on your socials, and her pictures always make me smile.” His eye nearly twitched, but he schooled a sweet smile on his face. “Wife.” He corrected her gently. The woman’s eyes widened and she was quick to try and recover. “Wife, wife- right! Speaking of that, congratulations are in order.” You and Austin had thought about keeping the pregnancy as private as possible, but after the first few months the two of you were bursting at the seams. By the end of it all, it was all you two could really talk or post about. The same thing goes with all of your close friends and family. His best friend, Ashley Tisdale, had visited again last night and had posted at least ten pictures of the three of you on her Instagram story. You were both first time parents, and you wanted to get the full experience. Despite the fact that most of the people that messaged him to extend their love and excitement for him were strangers, it still felt great. 

He was willing to talk about his son, as long as the questions stayed respectful. “Thank you,” He couldn’t wipe the excited smile off of his face, staring down at his hands for a few seconds before glancing back up at the interviewer. “We’re both over the moon. It’s been a huge change to our lives, but a good one.” 

“Well I’ve seen a few pictures and he’s beautiful. He’s a perfect mix of the both of you. He’s got your forehead and nose.” A genuine laugh bubbled out of his throat, and the other woman seemed to feed off his excitement, happy that the interview was naturally progressing into something a little more feel-good than anybody was anticipating. 

“That’s what I keep telling y/n! The second that he opened his eyes I thought I would die though. I have a feeling he’s going to look more like her as he gets older, so I’m enjoying him being my little twin while it lasts. She’s the most gorgeous person on the planet though, so I wouldn’t be too upset about it.” His tiny features had been a constant source of teasing over the last month. You claimed that your son looked more like you than he did him, but Austin begged to differ. He would be sure to gloat about this once he got back home to you. 

“Was it hard juggling everything though? I mean. . . playing the leading role in such an important film all while your wife is pregnant must be stressful.” The young woman was beginning to grow on him. He usually didn’t answer questions this personal, but she had caught him during a time when he wanted to gush about his life. Would he regret saying so much later? Oh, definitely. For now though, he was content with bragging about you. 

“I’m sure she was upset about the long days without me, especially during the earlier stages, but she never let it show. She can get rather nervous at times- really get in her own head about things- but she was great the entire time. Really, really great.” 

“And hey- natural birth, right?” 

He beamed, nodding his head quickly. “Natural birth. She’s an absolute god. I’ve heard about dads getting phantom pains, but I never really believed in any of it.” The young woman was already laughing, and Austin began chuckling right along with her, placing a hand against his stomach as he remembered how awful he had felt during the majority of the delivery. “Oh god, the sympathetic pregnancy symptoms were real for me.” 

“Well I’m sure you guys must be good with just one child for now, right?” She threw her head back with laughter as he shook his head animatedly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Us? No way. We want an entire Butler tribe. Our goal is to populate a small village.” He could see his manager covering her mouth to stifle her own laughter at his teasing. 

“Well it was a delight to finally get to meet you. You guys need to see Austin Butler in the role of Elvis if you haven’t already. It’s in theaters everywhere, so make sure you get your tickets now. Seats are filling up fast.” Austin gave one final wave to the camera before the cameraman loudly called ‘cut’. 

“Thank you for your time.” The interviewer shook his hand one last time before he walked over to his manager’s side. “See? Painless.” He hated to admit it, but she was right. He was in and out in just under an hour and a half, which was better than he could have hoped for. “I don’t have anything else scheduled, right?” He asked hopefully. The second that the woman shook her head he was practically jogging through the halls and out into the parking lot. He wanted to catch you before you put the baby down for his nap. 

You were shocked when you heard the front door open, Austin’s voice calling up to you from the living room downstairs. “Baby one and baby two! I’m home!” You rolled your eyes, slowly making your way down the stairs. “I’ve been trying to get him to go to sleep for the last half hour, but he’s wired.” Austin was quick to take him off of your hands, giving his fuzzy head kiss after kiss. “Oh, I missed his smell.” With gentle hands Austin pulled his son away from his chest, holding the small infant out in front of him so that he could get a good look. You still had him bundled up in the onesie. Your husband was quick to look at you, his bottom lip jutting out in a small pout. “How can something be this cute? Hey buddy. Were you a good boy for mama while I was gone?” His constant baby talking made you chuckle. “You didn’t pull her hair, did you? We talked about that yesterday.”  The interview was posted the next day, the internet practically exploding with new hashtags, screen grabs, and reposted pictures of you and your small family. Austin spent the entire morning mumbling his apologies for being so personal in the interview, but you didn’t mind much. It felt good to know that everyone saw what a terrific father he was. What a terrific husband. “New daddy alert! Austin Butler gushes over son in latest interview.” You read one of the article titles out loud, hearing him groan from the other room. You scrolled through your phone for a couple more seconds before you found what you were looking for. “Austin Butler calls his wife a ‘god’ after the natural birth of his son.” You could hear your baby cooing from the other room. “I get it! I get it! You can stop with the news articles.” He called out over the sound of the running bath. “Daddy Austin Butler is a whole snack. Women are going crazy after the latest Elvis-” “Stop it, woman!”

the prequel to this fic is now posted !

[aaaaafro]

Soft Japanese Pillows, Two more, please? IVE Rei x ? x M! Reader (+18)

And we're back with a special guest. Pt 1 here

tw: more pillows, more softer + Rei's blonde now and we bout to die

The bells above the door chime as you enter the familiar outlet. You won't lie after the showcase of products last time and even though you've bought enough pillows to make your sleep a hundred times better. Your mind couldn't help but look back at the experience. It always feels like you need more of those pillows and today you've concluded that two isn't just gonna cut for you.

"Welcome, are you ready to have the best sleep?" It's their catchphrase that you didn't pay attention the last time from a somewhat unfamiliar voice and face.

It's not that you're disappointed or anything (or it's not like you're expecting another Japanese staff to assist you, right?). If it is something, you're actually awestruck at her visuals. The simplistic approach of her make-up just accentuates her natural beauty even more.

"My name is Kazuha, you can call me Zuha. What can I help you with?" She smiles once more as you just stood there lost of words.

"Oh sir!" Now a familiar call from somewhere woke you up from your trance.

You and Zuha look over and see the adorable Japanese pillows–woman! Japanese woman approaching the two of you. Her smile didn't leave her face even after she's finally right in front of you.

"You're back, did something happen with the pillows?" Rei asks.

Respectfully your eyes wander towards her lower regions for some reason and that fraction of a pause didn't go unnoticed by the two ladies. A fake cough from Zuha wakes you up from your daydream as you did your best to focus on the matter.

"Uh... yeah... I mean no! There's nothing wrong with them. I'm a-actually here f-for..." Your words got caught up in your throat.

"Me?" Rei jokingly finishes as you two awkwardly laugh at each other.

"Uhm, I'm here to p-purchase m-more, if it's okay?" You clarified as Zuha and Rei's eyes light up upon hearing of a potential sale.

You could've guessed that ever since what happened to you and Rei that there shouldn't really be anything awkward between the two of you and to prove that Rei quickly jumps onto you, clinging tightly as she presses her soft body against your arm.

"Let's go then, sir~?" Again with a little cute fade at the end, as her smile flashes and it gives you flashbacks of your first time here.

You couldn't help but notice though the other lady in the room. As you and Rei look back at Zuha who's standing there in awe at the relationship you two have. Rei waves at her before saying; "Watch the store for me."

Clearly seeing the annoyance at Zuha's face that these two don't really get alongside each other. A light tug at your arm signals you to walk but you keep glancing back to see Kazuha's face who seems disappointed. You could say the sale incentives might be something that comes to play with this, but that's clearly not all of it.

"I'm so happy that you're back..." Rei comments as she continues to lead you to the back office of the store.

"Make yourself comfortable, I'll be back with the products. Oh gosh! I know you'll love them and I'm so excited to show them to you." Hearing the enthusiasm in her voice really does make you excited as well and remember your first time here. while you're sitting down on the very neat white couch.

Not even a minute in. Rei comes back with a couple of pillows in hand. You're stunned to see the variety of styles and the visible differences between the products. Not just the sizes but the sheer materials of it are visibly different.

"So, these new ones just came in..." Rei starts presenting them.

Handing you one to try and feel the undeniable comfort in your hand. As you're feeling the product's quality, your mind then starts thinking of something else and it really doesn't help when that something else is right in front of you.

"So? How's it sir?" Rei scoots forward excitedly and you can't help but focus on the way her meaty legs jiggles with her movements.

"U-uhhm... They l-look g-great..."

"Oh... H-how about the materials sir?"

"T-they uh... yeah, feels great."

Those half-assed answers weren't really enough for Rei, as she traces your line of sight and realizes where your focus is on. Knowing what's distracting you from getting the full experience she quickly thought of a solution.

"Do they really feel great sir?" Rei suddenly closes in your personal space even more to the point where her body is pressing against your shoulder.

"T-they d-do..." You might've swallowed a whole gallon of saliva, as you try to form the right words for a response.

"Oh really, I was just about to say..."

"These are made of one hundred percent authentic Japanese materials." Now you're torn between the pillows or her thighs pressed against your arm but either way you're taking something home and it'd be nice if you can take both home.

"T-they a-are?" Your voice might've just cracked mid sentence due to your nerves but that's not the point.

With that Rei moves her lips closer to your ear before whispering; "Yes sir, and the biggest feature of these is that they are water resistant."

There goes Rei with her patent adorable fading voice as her hot breath brushes against your ear. You sit there, heart pounding as her hand lands on your shoulder before slowly sliding down to your chest as she continues; "Do you want another demo sir?"

With no words forming in your head you just decided to nod and this was enough for Rei, as she jumps on top of you. Her healthy legs trapping yours on the spot as she reaches for the pillow in your hand before chucking it like it was nothing.

"We'll begin the demo now sir." Her sultry voice trickles your ears.

Her hands skillfully find yours, her delicate fingers intertwining with yours as she slowly guides them to her hips. You shudder at first contact as if touching something so rare, well it is.

"W-wow." Might as well insert the Owen Wilson meme as you're too amaze to say anything else.

A proud smile comes across Rei's face seeing your eyes almost popping out. Just as then, you realized. She's still wearing a hoodie that's really obscuring the real feel of her body.

Rei can clearly see the frustration settling in on you and as a good customer service, she decides to oblige and provide you a better feel.

She removes her stuffy hoodie instantly and presents you with her slim hip and her voluptuous chest. Your drool almost slipping out and with a huge slurp that causes Rei to let out such an adorable chuckle that contrasts such a lustful body.

With her top hugging her figure so much almost as if they were about to pop, you couldn't help but just stare and obviously this isn't what Rei wanted her product to be experienced as.

Now with a firm goal of proving her product's exquisite quality, she takes your motionless hands and guides it up to her chest. Palming both healthy clothed pillows giving it a good squeeze, as Rei had to bite her lip to suppress her moan.

"C-can you feel it, sir?" Your hunger for her has now reached an all time high. As her soft spoken voice enters your eardrums.

"F-fuck." You mumbled.

Rei's hands captured your head before plunging you straight onto her chest. Her soft cushion catches you just fine as she then lowers her mouth closer to your ear as she whispers; "Later sir."

You can clearly see in your peripheral that she's smirking proving that she intends to do what you're proposing. just as then regret start to settle in as you've slowly realize how you're still in between her soft goodies and even then Rei starts pressing her mounds together trapping you even more.

And so you did what every sane person would do in this situation, you start kissing the in between of her orbs. Tasting the packed goodness of her skin was really something else. You can clearly tell she's been working hard as the hint of slight saltiness was fighting her sweet cherry flavored skin.

"Mhhmm, y-yes sir~ keep going." Well, if she asks so... who are you to not oblige?

Being a lil' too frisky you decide to go all ham on her, lifting her top off. The sheer ridiculous bounce that her mounds made the moment they were freed was something you've engraved into your mind forever.

Rei's pink cute hardened nubs are just calling you out and without a second to spare you quickly took one in your mouth. Her gasps send you shockwaves of happiness as she pulls your head deeper hoping to get more out of the sensation.

The sweet, savoury flavor of Rei's body resting on your taste buds is enough to make you come close to the edge of being rabid and just taking her to town but seeing how much Rei is enjoying this steady pace that you've created, you just couldn't bring yourself to do it.

"Haaa~ fuck, that's some fucking good stuff." You said right after regretfully detached yourself from her orbs having to catch your breath for a bit.

"Are you done sampling the products sir?" Rei's tone isn't that sweet, more so inviting if you'd say so yourself.

"B-but there's more products to sample." She added before removing your hands from her mounds and placing them on hee thighs.

S O F T, those are the only letters that you can think of at the moment. Like there's other words more fit than that... you dig down deep in your personal thesaurus, mushy? squashy? or supple? All of it fits but simplistically SOFT.

"Holy fuc-." Rei's finger halts you from finishing such a filthy reaction before she once more reaches for your hands and guides it towards her core.

Two layers of clothing did nothing to hide her arousal as the wet spot right in the middle is too evident. She smiled as your thumb glides up and down tracing her hot line.

"W-wow." Another Owen Wilson meme worthy reaction as you continued to press against her ever so wet snatch.

"Sir~." Rei's soft whimper cuts you off from the trance as she starts to stand up letting your legs free.

Your heart breaks into tiny pieces as the feeling of her soft body is now nowhere to be found. Like taking a treat from a puppy, your hands reached out trying to pull Rei back. She chuckled at the sight as she grabbed your hand and gave it a good squeeze. Enough to reassure you that she's coming back.

Rei suddenly reaches for the hem of her shorts. Wiggling her cute butt she does her best to slither off of the fabric. Gladly it was stretchable and she did it so easily. Now in her surprisingly cute underwear which is such a confusing sight but yet you're not one to look away. She smiled seeing your eyes are fixated on her lower half.

To make it even better she begins to wiggle it, you almost drool at the sigh as her soft thighs jiggling aggressively as she continues to undress herself while wiggling. A devilish grin on her face alerts you of something and a signal with her finger standing you up from the couch.

You could've sworn the world slowed down as you approached closer and closer to Rei and her bare skin. Your eyes never left the plump woman as you finally closed the distance between the two of you.

Towering over Rei was something that shouldn't surprise you but yet you can't help but adore the height difference as she slightly has to look up to meet eyes with you. You captured her by the hips pulling her closer. The two of you lock eyes before surrendering to your hunger.

Fireworks start to set off from your heart as you finally get a taste of Rei's lips (though you'd prefer the other lips more). The savoury goodness of her lips really does wonders as she wraps her arms around your neck before jumping onto you and you're quick to catch her by her meaty thighs.

"You taste so fucking good!" You comment midway through the make out session.

Rei's lips curls up as she then introduces another participant in the form of her tongue. The two of you engage in a battle for dominance but yet can easily tell how it's tipping over your side of the scale.

Being in so much ecstasy your legs start to crumble and as the obvious choice at the moment, you quickly carry Rei towards the white couch. Carefully placing the precious Japanese on the soft cushion as you got lost at how her meaty legs squishes against the surface–oh, just how you'd wished it was your face.

"You said these pillows are water resistant?" Rei adorably nods as you slowly remove your pants.

"Let's test that out shall we?" You finally discard the last useless garment off of your body as you line your face with Rei's wet entrance.

Seeing Rei holding back her excitement as she spreads her legs wider giving you a better look at her moist lips.You two made eye contact as you inch closer to her goods a slight nod from her encouraged you enough to dive in.

Placing a long lick along the slit of her core making sure to scoop as much as you can of her liquid gold. This action elicits a high pitched moan from the Japanese woman as her toes curls up. You can clearly see her resolve leaving her body as her hands suddenly lands on the back of your head pulling you deeper onto her core.

Your tongue reach as far as you could while doing your best to drink up her dripping springs. Her moans drown the whole room as her hand tussles with your hair trying to get some form of relief from all of the pleasure she's having.

"S-sir! Nnnhhnngg~! H-how is it?" Hearing that question made you commend how dedicated Rei is at her job.

Imagine getting eaten out yet you're worried about what that customer thinks about the service. As much as you'd love to give her millions of compliments you decide to just double the amount of pleasure as you jam two fingers inside of her tight walls. Rei's back arches as her nails digs deep into your skull, yet pain didn't even register in your mind as you're too focus on giving Rei your efforts.

"F–fuck! Sir! Ah–shiiitt..." Rei squealed as her legs kicks out before a gush of her liquid comes pouring out. Without detaching your mouth on her sacred lips you drink up as much as you can whilst Rei rides out her orgasm.

"See sir? How it just lets out all of the water?" You chuckled hearing Rei's attempt to make a sale as you finally let the girl rest for a bit seeing how the climax knocked the wind out of her.

Standing up as your legs start to cramp, Rei's eyes get fixated on your rock hard rod, but she can't blame you though, after all even just from the moment she straddled you, your member was already engorged.

"S-sir." Rei called as you're trying to stretch out the muscles of your leg and the moment you turned around, you almost passed out seeing Rei's on her knees while her torso was prompted on the backrest.

"What the f–."

"Fuck? Yes sir, that's the idea." Rei finished your sentence like she'd rehearsed it a couple of times.

Like your bed after a long day of work, you got pulled in as if she has a leash on you. Your hand traced her plump behind before giving it a good squeeze. Rei looks back as she gave you that mischievous smile of her before pushing her ass back to make contact with your member.

The sheer heat that radiates from her core and the remnants of her juice that it has, almost sent you to the edge but you're not one to disappoint her. "Go on sir. Fuck me." She whispered before looking away and bracing herself on the backrest of the couch.

Well, she asked for it and you'd be stupid not to give her what she wants. You quickly line your member on her entrance but before anything else, the back office's door slams open, stopping you right in your track.

You and Rei look back only to see Kazuha with an obvious angry expression. She nonchalantly approaches you and Rei before sitting down right next to her colleagues who's still naked and spread out on her knees.

"Uh... Zuha." Rei calls.

"No, no. go ahead." She replies as she just looks on.

You stood there dumbfounded as Rei just shrugs and proceed to penetrate herself with your rod. This took you by surprise but as you tried to pull out of Rei and she just suddenly pushes herself back to penetrate herself once more. You groaned feeling her tight walls clasping your member.

As awkward as the situation is, you can't help but to start giving Rei the business and despite her workmate being right beside the two of you doing the nasty, she just sat there and watched over, intrigued at the way your rod completely disappears and partially reappear from Rei.

"Mhhmmm, fuck sir! You're so big!" Rei moans.

This is all too much for you already, and yet Kazuha suddenly stood up and starts removing her pants.

Introducing you to another great Japanese product.

"Fuck!" You twitched insure Rei as she jolts slightly feeling your rod react at the sight of her colleague.

Rei looks back to see Kazuha snaking her hands around your torso, this prompts Rei to double the pace as she starts throwing her ass towards you to deepen the connection each entry.

"Does she feel good?" Kazuha whispers into your ears as you continue to pound away at Rei's cakes.

"Mhhmm, I knew you weren't just here for the pillows..."

"Look at those thighs bounce..." As if you couldn't. You can't even look at Kazuha as you're too fixated on Rei's body responding each thrusts you did.

"How about we double down on some deal?" You really can't think straight to process what Zuha proposed but you somewhat understand it by the way she took your hand which was clutching Rei's hips and guides it towards her thigh.

Never! NEVER! In a million years you'd think that buying pillows can be this heavenly and you haven't even gone home yet to try and sleep on them. "How does that deal sound sir?"

Kazuha's lips suddenly captures your earlobes as you try to put your thoughts into words; "Fuck."

A light chuckle from the two Japanese pillo–ladies! Japanese ladies echoes. You're a mess trying to juggle the feel of Rei's love walls and Kazuha's clothed bolsters.

Now Zuha adds more to the equation when she suddenly slides her safety shorts aside and self penetrated herself with your fingers. And that's when the apex was within your sights feeling Rei's walls clenching as Zuha continues to play with your earlobes and fingers.

And to add cherry on the top Zuha whispers; "Cum inside her. Fill her up sir, she'll love it." Before recapturing your earlobe.

A few more thrusts as your member and your finger feels the two ladies reaching their limits as well. The three of you groans in a synchronous fashion, climaxing at the same time. Your waves of white love injecting inside Rei as she mixes it with her own fluids, meanwhile Zuha bites at your shoulder trying to ride off of her orgasm.

Finally collapsing on the body fluid riddled couch the three of you cuddled along as you got sandwhiched by both gorgeous ecstasy filled ladies, doing your best to catch each of your breaths.

"So, how were they sir?" Rei asks as her breathing comes back to normal

"Right... sir?" Kazuha followed.

"I..." You contemplated for a bit before saying fuck it, there's no such thing as too many Japanese pillows.

"I'll take two of each, please?" The two ladies smiled from ear to ear hearing your response before placing a kiss on each of your cheeks.

[howyouloveyourdragon]

The Heart Bestowed 

pronouns: she/her warnings: none that i am aware of, feel free to correct me in dms :) summary: Jacaerys loves nothing more than a duty fulfilled. Y/n has other impressions. Ever since they were young, they presumed that they would some day find one another in the Sept amongst family and reciting practiced vows to one another. However, they could not be more different nor more infuriated in their joined presence. Neither of them have any greater desires than to quell the other...So why do they feel so disappointed when they are both betrothed to another? disclaimer: this is fanfiction for asoiaf/house of the dragon, i do not give permission for my writing to be translated or copied whatsoever pairing/s: Jacaerys Velaryon x Tyrell!Reader dividers by: firefly-graphics wordcount: 8,144

120 AC. When Two Foes Begin

Y/n tilts her head as her eyes take in the strange boy’s dishevelled appearance. Her lids turn her eyes to slits. “You have a leaf in your hair.” She comments. Usually this would be a compliment–the girl probably loved nature more than a Targaryen, their dragon. She threads the court girls’ hair with flowers every morrow, which she is doing at this sensitive moment as her fingers peel through pale strands and embed larkspur into the crevices. Her own locks are braided with daisies though he cannot comprehend how she managed to fit them all in with the sheer density of it. The boy with brown hair rolls his lips into his mouth, bites down and frowns at her. Hair had been a topic he had been criticised upon often. He should not be surprised that the little Tyrell girl thought the same. “Better a leaf than a spider.” He snaps briskly, all too used to defending the castle of stone in where his insecurity lies. The girl gasps and shoots her hands into her own locks as quick as an arrow flies. Perhaps if she were not here then he would be able to occupy his time flying arrows instead of pretending not to be as bored as a dormouse. Her wide eyes turn on Helaena as Jacaerys begins cackling. “Hela, you promised!” She exclaims, the Targaryen princess returning her shock. “You told me they were still in your room!” “They are sleeping.” Helaena’s soft voice melodies no louder than that of the very dormouse skittering through Jacaerys’ very soul. The boy sighs.

“Are you a child? You are acting as if you are one. How fearless.” Jacaerys snickers then smirks slyly. “I am willing to bet five dragon coins that you are the younger, aren’t you? Posing as the elder to attract my aunt’s attention.” The way her eyes narrow and settle their attention back onto him only heightens his entertainment. He intends to quip once more but a familiar supercilious voice drifts closer and he rolls his eyes. “And had I not known you, I would have presumed you to be the youngest of your line and yet the Lady seems all too aware of her status. Something that you clearly lack, nephew.” Either child turns to look at the Targaryen picking at his nails to pretend the conflict is not anxiety-ridden. That jumps an idea into the almost-heir’s mind. “Perhaps it is genetics then, seeing as Daeron’s sword can strike thrice the battle yours would. I could presume that–” “You are both foolish.” Y/n interrupts and her hand dips to take Helaena’s. Squeezing. “We are leaving. Helaena is to show me the library. Good day.” It is swift that she leaves, Jacaerys’ aunt trailing behind her slightly as she giggles. The boys however seem unable to dispel the attention she directs, staring long after she is gone. “A shame that your wife and yourself are not yet accustomed to one another.” Aemond smirks with only the slightest twitch of his lip. Jacaerys wrinkles his nose. “Gross, what are you saying? She is not my wife, she is an insufferable girl who makes my eyes sore.” Jacaerys mutters then grimaces at the mere thought. His uncle doesn’t utter a noise but they both understand the growing gleam in his eyes. “Perhaps not yet but she will be. You should know how quickly alliances are forged. Brother of mine own is to marry our sister in the growing years, perhaps you can share together your day of nuptials and all that comes alongside it. I am sure that he would delight in this revelation himself.” “You speak as though you are excused from this fate.” “That is because I am. You forget I am a second-son.” The Targaryen prince ignores the Velaryon’s grumbles.

132 AC.

A dahlia is strapped to her wrist, he notes, watching her. He thought she didn’t like dahlias. It is an off cream colour, not quite possessing the purity of white. It is rare that she would wear such colours, teal gowns usually consume her and yet today she is not wearing one at all, she is wearing a colour reminiscent of the peaches bundle in her arms. She cradles them like they are her own kin. She looks beautiful. More beautiful than he has ever seen her despite the splotches of dirt and vibrant grass stain painting her dress. Jace questions himself why the urge to bow possesses him. She has grown into her Tyrell roots it seems, her steps elegant and handing the small fruits to the children of the city. Jace hides behind a pillar as he gazes, it has been just a year since he last saw her. Just a year and she looks exactly the same and different all at once. He should have prepared for that, he thinks as his stomach tumbles about obscenely and taunts his gut for choosing wrong. He shushes his brother who talks raucously with one of the common folk. His wishes are fruitless. His eyes longing. His feet locked to the floor in order to prevent their unreasoned desires. Her hand reaches into the small basket and squeezes one of the fluorescent yet pale fruits before handing it to a small child, perhaps no bigger than a direwolf pup. Her…

He can’t bring himself to speak her name even silently in his head; it feels far too scandalous. Perhaps it is. Jace likes that word because it sounds like them. Perhaps. Perhaps he will visit her, perhaps he will speak with her, perhaps he will be happy at her side. Perhaps… He wonders why her hair is in those intricate tangles, well not tangles but he cannot summon the phrase, it always looks pretty much like the rose of her name but something feels different this time. Jace wonders if she would too think him pretty. As the thought surfaces he cannot help but feel guilty as he imagines the sweeping swirl that his tongue would gladly deliver around her finger. The one where juices flow freely down her forearm. He swallows. Gods be good. Jace looks back at the once girl now woman. He looks at the odd twig in her hair, the way her dress doesn’t quite reach her feet. Intentional–he’s sure. She knew that she would be walking around although as he hears her laughing, her hair dipping to catch in one of the children’s eyes (to which they swat), he assumes that she did not intend to stay as long as she has. It was been just thirty minutes since he started peeking over at her but it is unknown how she has been skipping and circling the children. One of their small hands dart out at her back and she squeals, the sound more like a birdsong. It looks like a game but once Jace is unfamiliar in. He wonders if she is always this way with children…He wonders if this would be what she would look like amongst their own. Their own. Not her own. Their own. A deepening blush creeps up his veins until blossoming up his face. He wants to brush them away with his hands but that would be foolish.

He glances down at his frozen feet and curses him. He knows they will not move. He refuses to let them and yet he still curses them. His hand dips into his pocket to feel the long-crinkled petals that lie there.

120 AC. The Dragon Incident.

“He stole Vhagar!” Jacaerys seethes, anger steaming on his young face. “He called us bastards–!” “So you carved out his eye?” Y/n yells back, horror filling her face. Her brows are knitted and her lips are twisted downward. Jacaerys’ stomach attempts to devour itself, sharp teeth suddenly becoming unleashed and ripping at his insides like a morbid beast. Bile sews up his throat before hitting his tongue. “Look at him!” Her hands cradle his uncle by his hair and stroke it gently. Jacaerys’ jaw locks and a huff leaves his nose. His uncle looks down, clenching his fists. “You need not fight my battles.” Aemond hisses. “You need not, truly.” “We are children, you are family! Nobody should be fighting anybody.” The girl roars, every inch a beast as powerful as Vhagar in that moment but neither boy changes their stance. Jacaerys huffs and lets his eyes latch onto her hand, running through Aemond’s white curls. A fire burns up his spine. “You seem all too pleased with that fact, if only you could keep your tongue as still as your mind.” The words taste too bitter on his tongue but he chews them out anyway. Her fierce eyes narrow. Her hair sways at the velocity in which she turns her head, the yellow hyacinths in her hair on the verge of falling once her attention returns to him. “I think you both are in far more need of that ability than I.” It is the first time he has felt ashamed. Her eyes drop to Aemond, fingers still carting through his hair. “Aemond, your sisters, name them.” he glares ahead petulantly.

“I have but only one.” He grumbles but her fingers yank sharply and he yelps. “H-Helaena!” She tugs again. “Helaena and Rhaenyra!” He sputters and the Tyrell girl does look far too pleased as she stands to grasp one hand into Jacaerys’ tunic who gulps with wide eyes. “And your mother? Her name.” “R-Rhaenyra!” He sounds out quickly, not wishing for the same sore locks as his uncle. Y/n smiles. She actually smiles. “Good. A common meaning.” Jacaerys winces as she lets go of her rough hold. “You are neither sweet hearted nor graceful.” Jacaerys whines and winces as she lets go of her rough hold. “I am not sure that you are Tyrell at all.” “Perhaps we have been lied to.” His uncle grumbles in agreement. Despite their sentiments against her, the girl beams at their shared discussion. “I hope you enjoy yourselves, my princes.” She curtsy though mock hangs like a banner over them. She snickers to herself as she glides away swiftly. Jacaerys sighs once more and rolls his dark eyes. Aemond folds his arms and they sit down in silence until… “Did you like it?” Aemond asks hesitantly. Jacaerys’ eyes narrow again. “Did I like what?” He snaps. “When she tugged you.” Any retort already built dies on his tongue. A deep flush floods his face. “Of course not.” He denies with haste but his eyes resemble a doe’s as he watches after her.

132 AC.

They are in a large hall, so distant yet so close, as their eyes lock on the other. He smiles at the sight of her hair–no longer so untidy as just hours before. A circlet is delicate upon her brow and loops in the crown of her head and even further back across it. Pink rose petals, real or fake he cannot discern, line it beautifully. Gold compliments her well, he decides and especially in contrast to the soft blue of her gown. Briefly he wonders what she would look like in yellow. Vibrancy. Her colours seem pale as of late, almost unsure. Another thought severs his mind. She is smiling back–no–she is smiling at him. His smile trips for only a moment before it returns taller than ever, he raises his cup and only drinks from it after she reciprocates the motion. Y/n’s eyes wander across the room, sweeping every lord, lady, maid, stray chef, even his drunken uncle. They darken, her eyes, as they explore. Does she like the gem-encrusted candles his mother likes to harbour? Why would she like the candles? Well, what of the cups then? Are they to her liking or shall he replace them all after they are wed. He bites his lip but then she is looking at him again. Warmth waves across the table with a flick of her wrist. He loves it. He loves it dearly. Beautiful, he thinks. Jace thinks a lot of things. He even thinks about how easily he could sneak them both out and into the gardens. Jace could even request one of the lute players to join them, perhaps they could talk freely as he plays. He realises that he does not merely want to talk with her, he wants to murmur in her ear and wrap flowers between the strands of her hair the way she loves it. He wants to inspire each new colour she wears and accept every argument or praise she would bestow onto him. For the dagger of her quick tongue can feel like both the sweetest and only release a man should need. 

He sips once more from his cup, the Dornish delight tickling his own tongue. He wonders if hers should feel the same. A glow echoes from her feet to her hair. It blooms her face, nutritious light dancing across her smile. The grin atop her lips is like golden dust both fleeting and familiar but beautiful nonetheless. Something he would later imprint into his memories. He likes to think of them that way, two dancing dusts of gold moving in tandem despite the wind around them. The firelight cannot distract him from her no matter how flirtatious. His eyes dip to glance at her wrist, he grins when he sees the pale dahlia. Then they meet hers again and he tilts his head to the side. A gesture known between them all too well. So, as they stand and their chairs scrape back. The dancing bodies envelop them enough to shield their bodies from the Queen’s prying eyes.

121 AC. The ‘Strong’ Incident.

She looks as though she has sucked a lemon dry. Jacaerys grimaces, nose wrinkled and brow furrowed. To say that Y/n Tyrell is a petulant Lady of the Reach would be too kind. He has detested her since the moment she clung to his uncle Aemond like a coddling mother. How she wiped the mud off his face and stroked back his hair. He scoffs at the memory. At the ever flowing memories that thread along his mind, stitching it in place as tight as a royal noose. A huff pushes through his nostrils as he stands opposite her at a mere five namesdays. His eyes narrow. “It’s ugly.” He sneers, referring to the rhododendron braided through her hair. She glares back. “You would know, would you not, mittys, afterall you are much further known in that field?” At her sharp utterance, his head snaps up and his eyes blow wide. “Where did you learn that?” He snaps. For the love of the Gods he hates the ill-inducing smile that twists her lips like an insipid snail. She is far too proud of herself, he decides whilst folding his arms. Her grin doubles. “Your uncle taught me.” The Tyrell teases, smirking with those prudish pink lips. He wants to slap away the smug glimmer in her eye but that would not be befitting of his station. Jacaerys clenches his fist to recall that. Instead he breathes. “Well he cannot even summon the correct grammar so he is hardly one to listen to.” The boy is proud when he sees irritation flash over  Y/n’s face. He almost chortles at the sight. “At least he can string together a proper sentence!” She bites back. He scowls and turns his head to the side to pretend the creeping blush is from anger rather than embarrassment. She snickers as her eyes roam every birthmark or dot that lines the crevices of his face. He glances at his mother, already engaging with a strangely familiar looking woman. Oh. Your mother. Oh. 

Jacaerys trains his gaze back on yours and stiffens his posture, arms folding behind his back like Aegon taught him, chin raised. “I do not want to marry you.” He tells her plainly. His words are firm and rehearsed but they take no offence. He is almost insulted when she lets out the most unladylike snort he has ever heard. “Then marry my sister.” She retorts, something playful dancing across her smile. Jacaerys drops his jaw in horror. “Your sister is four!” “Then do not whine to me of what you do or do not wish to do!” As they speak–or rather–argue, Y/n is hoisting up the skirts of her dress and adjusting her shoes. He ignores it. “I merely want us to understand one another.” He attempts, resurging his confidence. She ignores him now, fussing with her hair and wrenching it away from her face. He grimaces once more and glances at their mothers who embrace each other, not in the least concerned of their children’s enjoyment. “And if we are to understand each other then we shall-oh for the heavens, what are you doing?” The prince watches as her hand glides upon a tree branch and latches to it snug into her palm. Her snickers emit as she slings a leg around another. “Escaping!” He gapes at the strange girl. “Escaping? Escaping from what?” “You. You bore me like no other and I find myself in dire need of entertainment.” “I do not bore, you bore me!” Jacaerys continues to twitter even as she clambers through the intense leaves and ducks between branches. “Is this what Tyrells do? Climb trees and allow their smallclothes to the public eye? Be careful you ought to fall.” His voice extracts another yelp of amusement.

“Why? So that your Strong arms oughten to catch me? You are of your namesake, yes, Prince Strong?” Y/n rolls her eyes but before she has the time to argue further, she yelps and falls through the various greenery until falling flat on her back and winces. A groan parts her lips and wrinkles her brows. A gasp calls from the opposing side as the Lady Tyrell and Realm’s Delight skitter toward the fallen child. He bites his lip to quieten a laugh while they drop to her side. “Are you quite alright, my sweet?” Your mother asks, wispy voice wittering. She catches your arm and cheek, eyes scanning over every inch. “Jacaerys,” His mother hisses but conveniently his sights are elsewhere. He grasps a pile of amaryllis flower petals. He doesn’t know how they got there but they are pretty regardless.

132 AC.

The night glimmers with sparkling light, each one more beautiful than the last. “I had almost thought to request a dance of you,” Jace chuckles. “Though that might have been unseemly, as we are not yet betrothed, officially at least.” “I had almost asked, myself.” Y/n retorts back, grinning impishly. She looks down at their feet as they walk, she almost laughs when he performs a little skip. He nods, eyes glazed as they roam his sight across her face. In a sudden move he flicks her nose. Her face flinches and parts her lips. She blinks back to see his smirking face. “What are you–” Jace pretends his eyes are skimming over her in nothing but thought, nose suddenly wrinkling. “Ah yes, I had thought that no such beauty such as your own could be true. I wonder what altered my sights so,” He is grinning wildly but she does not find the comment amusing. A huff bubbles in her and she hoists up her skirts. “How dare you!” She bellows. Jace laughs with greedy entertainment as he begins to skip backward. She runs after him, attempting to hide her delight. “You best apologise for scorning me, Velaryon!” She has to call as she chases him, ducking under branches and attempting not to slip in the thick mud. He glances back at her and cackles at the otherworldly display. She scoffs. His laughter takes control until he is doubling over in amusement which gives Y/n the perfect opportunity to strike a stiff arm across his body and send him crashing to the floor with her body atop his. She pins his wrists above his head and smirks as he wriggles. She beams proudly down at him. “Apologise.” She demands. He grimaces, laughter not yet stopped. “As if!” He dispels.

And all too suddenly, he stops. Jace stops and he looks up at her and his breath stutters. “Do you intend to keep me here? At your mercy?” “I did so when we were children.” She teases to which he quickly rolls his eyes. “When we threw mud and ducked beneath trees.” He interrupts her speech with a chuckle. Her palms soften and slide onto the ground instead. “Do not laugh at me,” “I am not laughing!” He defends. His fingers glide around her wrist. Y/n’s breath hitches. Her eyes flit down at him. As her grip loosens she plummets until their chests touch. Never one to back down from a challenge and yet she fumbles with wide eyes and shallow breath. The prince grins and chuckles as he laces two hands along her waist. His eyes glitter with excitement. “Your lineage was correct at least once.” He murmurs. He spots a row of rogue daisies dotting her hair. “You are so alluring that you have me utterly captivated.” A lump clogs her throat, her breath turns almost so shallow that it hides from her. “And you are as headstrong as the dragon demands.” She breathes out. “We are unchaperoned.” He purrs, a finger raising to stroke his cheek. She swallows and lets her irises track it. “We are.” Crickets dance around them, unseen but their noise unrelenting. His lids lower as the flower leans closer. “It is pretty.” He whispers below his breath. “What is?” “In your hair,” he gestures with a pink hue. She doesn’t have to hear him to know what he is speaking of. “Perhaps…our marriage could be like your hair.” Her brow furrows. “Wild…ever-changing…beautiful…a garden.” A soft smile caresses her face. “I would like to grow our…garden together.” The stars glow above them. As if the fates design it themselves, Jace feels his own smile beginning to warm. “I too...” He breathes. “I too.”

122 AC.

Glares are often exchanged over the dining hall but instead they appear beside a dreary river. It looks utterly soiled and murky. The prince wrinkles his nose. “I’m not going in.” He denies to which the little girl at his left snickers. “I did not ask it of you.” The flower unlaces her boots, huffing as she discards the knotted tangles. “Then what are you doing?” He shifts in discomfort. “I am swimming.” She snickers in retort, “Do not be foolish, that water is freezing.” “But it has water lilies!” Y/n argues tugging at her bodice. She huffs at the trickiness. His hand reaches out to grasp her wrist as she shuffles out of her large skirt. “If our mothers knew that I had let you, they would string me up by my cloak!” “So do not tell them! They will never discover it!” With a twist of her hands she tosses him in the lake below with great ease.

The two highly esteemed most certainly did discover it when their two squabbling children returned to them soaked from head to toe. “Your fault.” Jacaerys hissed at her but she merely stuck her tongue out, as if it had been her intention all along.

132 AC.

The prince stands before the painter, sighing as time whittles away. It is already noon, morning past and yet he cannot escape preening hands or bothersome hands. The excessive garments weigh heavily on him. They feel more like vines than fabrics. His eyes cast to look at the cloudy sky as the gentle blues expose themselves. He is glad that they are not in a shade as spritely as his clothes. It is an odd wonder that he used to love blue so deeply and yet now it shackles him. “And how many more strokes should I be expecting?” Jacaerys asks. The artist before him chokes–presumably on his own saliva–then clears his throat. “Apologies, my lord, what is it that you–?” “Brush strokes, friend. Brush strokes,” A glimmer of enjoyment twinkles in his brown irises. “Ah.” The painter croaks with a flush up his neck. A snicker parts the prince’s lips but an abrupt snap of the doors halts his short entertainment. Jace’s eyes quicken to find a grey dress and solemn face. His grin slips. “My dear, I was not expecting you but it is welcome.” He almost stutters, wanting for nothing but to take a step closer to her. He curses his feet for disobeying his desires. Jace quickly sews back his smile but perhaps too tightly. 

“I thought it best for us to confer in discretion.” The words leave her lips stiffly and as he watches her move he sees a similar firmness in her posture, her stance, her stuck limbs. Jace glances at the painter. “Yes, you are quite right. Ser, would you–?” “No, that is quite alright.” She interrupts, trying to smile but it looks as frozen as the force of her smile. Tensity grapples the air, squeezing it tight. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.  "I didn't know what it meant." She utters quietly, refusing to raise her eyes to meet his. Jacaerys watches as she swallows slowly and takes a deep breath, holding it in her lungs as though it would flee from her the moment she spoke once again. "When I...When I called you that word." Tensity rattles him, locking his bones. "I'm sorry. It was cruel and unbefitting and you did not deserve it." Silence holds them stiff like the portrait itself yet the artist himself holds little hesitancy. "You were a child." He speaks. She finally looks at him and everything inside him goes soft at her gaze. "So were you." And suddenly everything feels different and the same all at once. He does not know whether what he has gained is what he has lost. He wants to move, walk or run toward her, it matters little. Anything his body would allow but it does not. He stays frozen. Watching as she slowly steps back, the slightest dip in her mouth as she regains her composure. Her head dips, eyes fleeting.

Jacaerys has not screamed since he was a child but suddenly he wants a change of heart. Regardless of duty. Regardless of honour. The two things he holds most dear behind his family. “I have news.” “Oh?” He tries not to let his voice shake despite surrendering to the quietness. “An announcement has been made–two in fact.” His brows furrow. “And what have we to do with them? Have our mothers’ meddling persisted?” Jacaerys’ smile returns but something flickers beneath his eyes. “Your flowers…Where have they gone?” She doesn’t answer. Lady Y/n Tyrell merely takes a deep breath. “We are to be wed.” The spark lights up again and he claps, startling the artist. “Oh, Y/n, I have–” “To other people.” Her Ladyship corrects, eyes flitting up at him from the floor. “Yourself and Baela shall live happily in Dragonstone and I will live at Lord Stokeworth’s side. We are finally free. My congratulations, my prince. I have enjoyed our short time together.” “My lady, I–” “I am not your lady anymore, your highness. Now if you would excuse me…” She walks away and he swears he cannot stop himself from counting each quiet step. He does not feel like Jace anymore. He feels like Jacaerys, prince and future heir to the Iron throne.

126 AC.

‘And then you throw a cloak over her which I still do not comprehend.’ Aegon’s handwriting explains in rough scribbles so filled with the ever increasing bubbles of rage that only a sixteen year old forced to marry his own kin can muster. Jacaerys chuckles quietly at the tear in paper at the centre where a convenient ink splotch lays. A farce of a marriage his uncle and aunt possess and yet there is something bitter in Jacaerys’ snickering. This will be his own fate soon, he is merely lucky that his mother has not been hounding him with it, not forcing him to kiss the weird Tyrell girl’s hand or invite her to dance. He sighs in thought as he thinks of her and the stupid petals that are no doubt swaying in her hair. He can see it, even when he tries not to, he can see her nose wrinkle and scrunch, he can see her eyes cloud with childish amazement as another boy asks her to dance instead–one of the Lords old enough to be his uncle and strange enough to want her grimy hands on them. He bets that they are caked in dirt–they always are–and he can see the oddly shaped and unfitting rings that she adorns, all in the patterns of thorns or flowers. He is tired of listening to her babble to them whenever he sits beside her at feasts. He wishes frequently that he would take the seat beside one of his brothers or cousins.

He continues reading the crumpled letter and reluctant recount of the royal wedding. A princess and a prince destined to tear the other at the seams, he muses to himself. He wonders what Y/n will look like at their own wedding, she always has her hair twisted funny and her dresses are ridiculously large. He does not understand why she bothers with them when she throws them off to jump into the lake every chance she can reach. Surely she would not wear green like Helaena did although that is the prioritised colour of her house. He supposes that would bother him not though with the sage colour she wears so often. But should a wedding not be an excessive expression? Had Helaena looked as miserable as she felt walking up to her new husband or had she braced herself enough to don a reluctant stone mask? Will Y/n look miserable too? Will she throw things at him like she had when she last visited and pommel him again with the force of her fists? To her respect, he had been at fault for taunting her and snatching the lavender flowers from her hair. Would they mind that they would marry in a Sept or beside fire? Will it bother her or would she like it? His thoughts swirl as the parchment’s words grow less intense. The ink starts to fade, replaced by insufferable girls and insufferable promises. Will it be warm or cold? She hates the cold but she hates a lot of things. Will she have to stop climbing trees when she’s Queen? He supposes she will but he’s not quite sure why he hates that idea. There’s something he likes about her calloused hands. He rubs a thumb over his palm as he remembers the last time they danced, it must have been the year before but it threads in his memory with the sound of a well-strung lute. Jacaerys loves music, which is why it is so irritating that he can recall the shade of her eyes with ease and yet not a single note plays in his ears. He cannot even remember whether he had liked it or not.

132 AC.

The door almost snaps from its hinges when the young prince bursts through. “What did you do?” He asks his mother immediately, watching as her eyes widen and she chokes on her wine. The princess takes her time to collect herself and slowly lowers the glass. Blood pumps in his ears so loudly that he almost doesn’t notice his own trembling fingers.“Whatever do you mean, Jacaerys?” “You are betrothing me to Baela?” His mother sighs and looks down, lips parting to respond. “Why should she not? You turn aside every other girl that your mother suggests.” Daemon utters, gliding through the door. He takes his regular brisk and composed steps until settling his hands on Rhaenyra’s chair from behind her. He raises his eyebrows. “Or have you finally made up your mind on who shall be not only your Queen but the Kingdom’s one day.” Rhaenyra turns the rings on her fingers quickly. The prince scoffs. “I know that arranged marriages are not your preferred method but your grandsire is growing very ill, Jacaerys, he should be able to see you wed. It will be the first ceremony he could witness since his own.” The irritation grapples him and squeezes like a vice. “Then do not betroth me to Baela, betroth me to Y/n like you were supposed to!” Jacaerys shouts. A silence rings through the air, a ticking clock quirks at the top of his mother’s head, slowly working her mind to understand his words. She blinks. “The Tyrell girl?” She finally asks, face screwed up and eyes clocking back and forth aimlessly. “I never intended for such a match, I thought you hated her.” Daemon’s face tenses and so does his posture as he folds his arms. Jacaerys’ face becomes even more flushed as the hour passes. “I-I, well, I had but she–I don’t…” His breath grows haggard and huffs.

He strikes a harsh hand through his hair and grips it painfully. The boy bites his lip, suddenly falling small again. “I wanted to. I wanted to marry her, I just…No, I want to marry her. Either I did not know yet for being too foolish and youthful that I thought her to be a trap or I did not want to admit it but now I do and I just want her. I want all of her. Every inch she will give unto me. I want her thorns and her petals, of every season I want to keep her in summer and love. I will travel anywhere to keep her warm, I will command flight, I will command ships, I will even command the stars and sun if she wishes so to force the day to stretch as long as she wishes. I want to give her summer. I want to be her summer. I want to give her myself in every way possible. She has more beauty than I have ever seen and more beauty than I deserve.” His throat tightens even more. “Mother, please let me be her summer, I will do anything you request of me just as I have always done but I will marry no other woman, I swear to the heavens high and low.” He stares into his mother’s eyes, Daemon long forgotten as her fingers stop their flickering of rings. The light catches on the one of gold and amethyst. The shade of his worry and the shade of Baela’s eyes. He knows that he cannot walk onto the stones and before the fires only curated to worship the Gods of Old Valyria and lie to them. It would not only seek him damnation but a life of agony. He knows he cannot willingly look in her eyes and gaze like he does the only beauty he has ever truly known because it is not she. It will never be she. There is but one dream in his heart and he will not let the rebounding tricks and lights of amethyst save him.

“Rather odd that you have had such an enthralling change of heart but I see no reason for such extremities.” Daemon almost growls, the insult burning hot in his ears. “My daughter is beautiful and of pure blood I commend you for your childish songs, I am sure the bards would be proud but I am not. There is no reason for you to deny her of being Queen. It is a title we both know her blood and nature is worthy of.” “Rhaena is betrothed to Luke.” He starts again shakily and glaring into his stepfather’s eyes hard as steel. “If it is your bloodline you wish to prosper then I shall abdicate without fight.” Just as quickly as the words slip past his lips, Rhaenyra’s ring falls. A memory flashes through both the adults’ minds. One in which a man was just as quick to toss his crown. Just as quick to deny himself the power he had always craved just to marry a woman with silver hair and a sharp tongue. And while he was desperate to marry a Queen, the boy before them now was willing to marry nothing more than a flower. Both their eyes tread curiously on him. “Abdicate?” Rhaenyra tests the word on her tongue, an unfamiliar one, it slips across her taste buds–too quick yet too thick. Too heavy and yet he says it with ease. As though it is the only passing thought in his head. Daemon’s own invasive sights are unrelenting. They strike through him as threatening as a sword to his neck, if he moves it will do more than nick him. Something twists in his gut when Daemon’s lips part. “That will not be necessary, will it, doñus ābrazȳrys?” He cuts into the thick cake but it is unclear whether it is filled with stone or honey. His violet eyes slowly track up to Jacaerys’. “I believe a wedding is in order…” The silence weighs heavily while a scream begs to claw up the boys’ throat. “Let us hope the thorns are gentle with us.” A sigh passes Daemon’s lips and his shoulders soften as he leaves.

128 AC.

“Oh.” He murmurs quietly, back straight and eyes darting. “Oh?” Lucerys hisses, brows raised and fiddling with his fingers. Anyone looking at him could tell he looks utterly drenched in a sea of nerves that rise slowly to attempt and drown him. “Oh is not what you say your betrothed is dancing with our uncle. ‘Oh’ is when someone tells you they have lost their toad or-or their cat ate a mouse.” Jace rolls his eyes. “Unlike you I do not care who she dances with, she can enjoy herself as she pleases.” Lucerys huffs and turns to glance at Rhaena at his side. She snickers. Jacaerys continues watching Y/n, watching as she twirls and joins hands with Aemond and then clapping them. He watches the shimmer that the candlelight shines on her necklace. He watches. He always watches but he never does anything. “Why should I care? If anything I should be encouraging it, maybe he can keep her attention long enough that she stops following me to my High Valyrian lessons, stops squawking in my ear.” “She doesn't squawk.” Baela defends with a chuckle.His eyes narrow, still locked on her. “Besides she is rather helpful, you ought to listen to her if she is to be your wife.” The tease is light on her tongue but it squeezes his chest. He nods stiffly and folds his hands together behind his back. He glances down. “Perhaps…” He agrees begrudgingly.Baela slaps his back. “Good.” “You know, she wouldn’t be dancing with him if you had asked her.” “Yes she would, she would do it to spite me.” His lip twitches like the tail of a smirk.

“Truly you are not going to marry him?” Aemond asks, the back of his hand caressing hers although it strikes little attention. The Tyrell does not have to look to know who he is speaking of, her answer is as swift as the flick in her wrist. “I have not yet decided, my friend.” Aemond grins wolfishly and lets his chuckle last. “A shame for the masses, I suppose for you to be shackled by the bonds of marriage, you were not made for it. That I am certain of.” “Then you must not know me well.” She smirks, eyes glinting with mischief. “Not that that would surprise me, you have horrendous taste in brides.” He wrinkles his nose. “And how have you decided that?” The length of her skirts twist around her, the patterns raucous. “Go on, tell me. I have not yet taken a bride of my own.” “Which is precisely why you have horrendous taste in brides.” The music grows louder, hiding his scoff from the fellow noble people. “I am the same age as you, why should I have taken a bride?” “Because they seem to either run from you and flock like a series of swans.” She grimaces. “It is rather irritating the way they stare.” “Yes well I am sure you do the same,” He teases. Her gaze turns hard on him but it only encourages his long for mischief. “I think I would rather find Luke and gouge my own eye out.” Aemond huffs but does not react in malice. He catches her sleeve in retort, resulting in a stumble. “Funny.” “Hm,” He agrees, his sly smile returning. “He would not be horrible, I suppose and especially not compared to the other men at court.” Aemond pulls a disagreeable expression and glances at his petulant nephew whose stare is as deep as an embedded knife. Aemond almost feels him twisting the hilt into his chest. He also so happens to pretend he cannot see her growing blush. “You are entitled to an opinion…even if that opinion is as incorrect as a worm flutters its wings.”

132 AC.

It is not an odd place to find a Tyrell Lady seated in the gardens admiring the vegetation but it still manages to halt the prince’s steps. Jacaerys feels himself freeze. She is just sitting there, a few other ladies and lords about courting but she is there…and for the first time since he was fourteen he watches her, truly watches her. As her hand dips to pluck a white rose between lithe fingers, her eyes dart around her to make sure no one has seen but he is behind her, hidden within the eyes of an observer. He runs honeysuckle between his fingers, unsure whether time is restraining him or prompting him because she looks so peaceful. He almost does not want to disturb her. Would she be happy with him, Lord Stokeworth, if he left her at her peace? He had not thought to ask. For the first time he wants to know what she wants for he has only brought about her sense of dread and bubbled anger. His breath hitches. He loves her. He can feel it growing and blossoming as fresh as the flowers in his hand. It calls to him, begs him to stare one moment longer. He watches her. He wants to cherish her, hold the skies for her, he wants to do any and everything and yet he has not the courage to ask her the same. The blossoming flower of his hope wilts in fear between her hands.

He watches her hair, so vibrant with youth and the last effects of their childhood. The bleach of sun is warm in her locks. She likes the sun, would Lord Stokeworth give her that? Or would he keep her locked away like so many men would dream just to keep her to himself. So stiff, she had been, when she had spoken with him. Was this not what she wanted? To be rid of him? Perhaps she could escape Lord Stokeworth but she could never escape a prince. Should he leave her this freedom? It is selfish that he wants her to stay, to stay with him, at his side but he cannot help wanting it so. He should be hoisting her over the wall instead of watching her in the gardens. Y/n needs freedom not him. She will never need him…Not like he needs her. And so Prince Jacaerys takes a step back. It is painful to look at her, Jacaerys gathers, his heart wrapped in thorns. His breath is shaky as he watches her soft fingers stroke the gentle petals. He has honour but he does not have the grace to leave her just yet. Not when she looks so beautiful.

Her dress is a pale teal, he always liked that colour on her, it is her favourite because it reminds her of seafoam. She wore it to a ball once, with a masquerade mask settled on her nose. Her eyes flit through the garden, he can sense that she feels him. She always knows when he’s there–even when he doesn’t want her to–and yet she doesn’t turn around. She does not turn to him, she does not call out to him. There are no flowers in her hair again, no remains of her desires. She is left utterly open to the world and yet hidden from him, he has nothing to analyse, no colours to discern her mood except the seafoam. The questions rebound in the inside of his mind, bouncing across like skittish rabbits. Jacarys’ hand lessens on the honeysuckle. He can almost hear its taunts ringing in his ear. He takes back another step, eyes still watching her as she turns the rose in her hand. His body twists before he can command it not to, slow steps making the choice for him but just as he is about to let the honeysuckle fall–

“Stop.” Her gentle voice calls and it is the only command he needs to stop but he cannot summon the strength to look at her. Not with those pretty doe eyes. The girl of Tyrell however stands up, her breath shallow as she watches him. The sun envelopes her like a sea of familiarity–her family seal sewn into her dress and yet the gold is belonging to a fool. She is to shine, not to sink into expectation. Jacaerys does not turn around but his hand stutters. Silence lingers in the cracks of their polished floorboards–their quick retorts lost and malnourished. Yet it is as familiar as the creaking wood it resembles, it matches the ignorance of caring for it. It is forever present and yet forever neglected. If you asked them to map it on a sketch, they could not tell you the rough edges or the spaces in where it shines but they could tell you where every last board of it leads. They belong to it as much as it belongs to them and perhaps it has been neglecting them too. Leaving them both curious and unsure without even taking the thoughts in stride. “Don’t go.” Jace’s ears prick up. That may have been the most vulnerable sound to ever grace her lips. He still does not turn his head. He cannot surrender to the hope but he will acknowledge it, letting his head turn softly to the side, his shoulders tensing with the desperation to look at her again. He swallows and he hears her own breath pause. “Do you want me to beg?” At that he quirks his lips and turns to her, slowly, tentative, nervous. “I…do not think that necessary.” He whispers, eyes slowly rising from the floor to meet her own and it is that moment that breaks. His restraint. He takes a step forward and so does she. For the first time…they are working in tandem. Together. Because that is all they needed. No honour. No quick wit. They only needed to release their hearts. To let them free.

Their eyes meet. “I brought you this.” He utters as her thoughts pace then halt. His fingers shake gently as he raises the bundle of honeysuckle. Y/n’s eyes don’t leave his own for even a mere moment, she only nods. Both their feet attract to each other like magnets until they are mere inches apart. With wilting trepidation, Jace lifts the flowers before settling the ring on her head. “A crown for my Queen.” He whispers. Their breath mingles, entwines. They join, holding one another. As Jace’s fingers let it become with her, her own rise to entangle in his. Her eyes flicker across his face. “I rather like that idea.” She responds, just as quietly. A sphere of gentleness immerses them. It holds them like the rarest of jewels. Like starlight itself. His breath hitches. “Will you...be my queen?” He murmurs. Her right hand cups his face and pulls it closer until their foreheads meet. Their noses brush. “If you will be my King.” His lips broaden into a grin and he nods–just softly. “I would be your anything.” He responds then leans in to finally after the years of triumph and battle and silent love connect their lips. Her own smile warms. “Then start with my everything.” A spark dances across as they press together, the line between them finally breaking. They have been bestowed the finest honour one could find. They have been bestowed a heart–not two but the old threaded into one. A new heart. The heart bestowed is a garden to rest in each of them. One for them to nurture together.

Valyrian Translations: mittys - fool

Flower Translations: daisies - innocence, new beginnings larkspur - lightheartedness, youth dahlias - commitment, kindness rhododendron - danger, caution amaryllis - pride, strength, determination pink roses - gentle love water lillies - majesty white rose - a new beginning, fresh start honey suckle - everlasting love

(feel free to ask me in my inbox/askbox if there is anything i have forgotten :))

The Heart Bestowed Taglist: (if your name is in italics and bold, that means i couldn't tag you, you will need to check your settings) @beaconofthehightower @buglyberry

HOTD Taglist: (if your name is in italics and bold, that means i couldn't tag you, you will need to check your settings) @wrendermedone @hopelesswritergall @its-actually-minicika @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly @adelusionalwriter @cookielovesbook-akie @maximofftwinsbitch @ughhthisbitch

Jacaerys Taglist: (if your name is in italics and bold, that means i couldn't tag you, you will need to check your settings) @fairysluna @mrsgrwy

[foxyanon]

The Vampiress and The Dane: Part 2

Summary: The long awaited part 2, this went wildly different than what I had originally intended but I am happy with what came out.

Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x Corvina

Word Count: 4117

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

TW: Older woman/younger man dynamic, monsterfucking, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v sex, blood sucking, blood play, no beta we die like Wihtger

Part 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from The Last Kingdom nor do I own any of the images used.

Dividers by @arcielee and @saradika-graphics

When Sihtric found his way back to his friends, they immediately noticed his sour mood and decided to press him about it, his temper be damned. All of them had seen the way he practically sprinted off the battlefield with an injured Corvina in his arms, but they didn’t know what happened after. He really wasn’t in the mood for them, but Uhtred gave him that stare and Sihtric knew he was about to hear it from them.

“How is she?” Uhtred asked simply, deciding to ease into the dressing down that was for sure headed Sihtric’s way from the three of them.

Sihtric clenched his jaw and breathed heavily through his nose before responding tersely. “She will live, as you well know. It was just a silver dagger, nothing she hasn’t dealt with before. Damn hunters must have slipped in with the rest of Wihtger’s men. Thankfully it was just the two on the field and both are dead now.”

Osferth, the former baby monk turned lordling, looked between all present before looking back at Uhtred and speaking. “You don’t think any of those hunters made their way into our ranks, do you, Lord? Corvina isn’t going to be threatened while she remains here, is she?”

Sihtric knew Osferth had a soft spot for Corvina, especially after she helped defend Rumcofa from Aethelhelm’s men which ultimately prevented his death. While he hadn’t been there personally, Uhtred later told them that she had her people scouting the lands after hearing some very concerning rumors from some powerful people. It was sheer luck she happened to be in the area when the attack happened, quickly eliminating Bresal and the others. Sihtric remembered when they met back up with Finan and Osferth later, the two telling them that she had dispatched a clean up crew and was following another lead. Not long afterwards, Aethelhelm was delivered, bound and gagged to Uhtred’s camp by her most trusted captain, a big surly man named Leonidas, a former king of Sparta. Apparently, Aethelhelm was wanted for the death of his own daughter and King Edward's second wife, Queen Aelflaed. Justice was served quickly that day.

“No, but we should do a sweep of the camp. Check for any new faces and keep an eye out for those little amulets the hunters wear,” Uhtred said, before looking back at Sihtric. “As for you, what is with this look? What happened between you two?”

Sihtric looked at the ground and sighed heavily, knowing this was inevitable. He looked back up into the waiting men’s faces before admitting what he did both just now and last night. He spoke the truth, fully accepting responsibility for the hurtful things he said to Corvina. When he finished speaking, the silence was almost too much for him, the sudden urge to crawl out of his skin becoming more tempting as the seconds ticked by. Finan broke it first thankfully, because Uhtred looked downright livid and even Osferth had a disappointed look on his face.

“You are one foolish man. Vina is a good and kind lady, a bloody Queen amongst her people, and yet you can’tu even get yer head out of yer arse long enough to even thank her!” Finan threw his hands up and muttered under his breath in Gaelic, likely cursing Sihtric for being an idiot.

Uhtred took a deep breath before speaking, anger and disappointment etched onto his features. “Sihtric, we have been friends for a long time now. You have been a loyal friend to me, but today you have shamed me. Corvina has been my friend since I was a young man, has been our friend for many years. She has sheltered and aided us, never asking for anything but our company in return and yet you have treated her worse than she ever deserved. All for what, your inability to accept who she is?”

That stung, but it was warranted. Sihtric had behaved abhorrently, and had been on and off with his feelings surrounding Corvina for far too long. Frankly, he wouldn’t blame her if she never spoke to him again. He looked back at his feet, feeling like a chastised boy again in front of his friends. Uhtred sighed heavily before running a hand down his face and speaking again.

“We will discuss this later, Sihtric. For now, we need to check the camp for potential hunters and actually get into the castle. This is a time for celebration for our victory, I intend to enjoy it,” Uhtred says with a nod before turning and walking away, barking orders at some of his men to sweep the battlefield one last time.

Sihtric inhales slowly before turning to Finan and Osferth, both men shaking their head but slapping him on the back before they too leave. It was clear on Sihtric’s face that he already felt like shit and they weren't going to pile on any further. At least, not right now.

After officially confirming Wihtger’s death with a hasty burial and actually getting into the castle for Uhtred to fully reclaim his ancestral home, night had fallen and the celebrations were in full swing. It wasn’t a grand feast, since those take more time to prepare than they had and Uhtred knew Northumbria was already dealing with the aftermath of the battle and Wihtger’s devastating rule. Corvina had already promised aid to ease the transition, saying she would reach out to her family around the world to get trade started back up in the land. Thankfully, the battle occurred before King Constantin was planned to arrive which meant that Uhtred had time to figure out how to deal with the Scots and ultimately King Edward before claims to land caused further tension.

Uhtred had given a speech on the steps leading into the castle, giving thanks to everyone for their support and encouragement to make this happen. He made sure he raised a mug to Corvina, thanking her for her unwavering support and belief in him over the years, cracking a joke about how he wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t saved his ass from some rogue werewolf that nearly got him when he was younger and more handsome. She laughed and raised her goblet of wine in response, accepting his kind words with a simple nod of her head before everyone went to eating, drinking and telling stories of the years past.

As the night wore on, Sihtric saw Corvina standing off to the side of the great hall, her wine in hand while she spoke with Aethelstan and Young Uhtred, both boys likely asking her about her long and colorful past. He took that moment to really look at her, noticing the way she traded her armor for a black dress with red angel wing sleeves, the beading on the sleeves and neckline more elaborate than anything he’s ever seen before. Her hair was freed of its braid and hanging loose, the kinks from the braid causing her brown locks to tumble down her back and shoulders in uneven waves. Sihtric takes note of how beautiful she looks tonight, her pale face radiant and her crimson eyes alight with joy, despite the darkness that lies within her. It occurs to him that perhaps this is what true beauty looks like – a combination of light and shadows, both equally important in creating a stunning whole.

How could he have ever doubted his feelings for her? How foolish has he been to allow fear and prejudice to keep him chained away from her side? He prays to any god that will listen that she will forgive him, that she might let him spend whatever time he has left in this life making it up to her. He is a proud man and would never do degrading things for anyone, but for her? He will beg and grovel to the ends of the earth for just a glimpse of her smile. That revelation brought with it the realization that he was deeply and truly in love with her.

Almost as if she read his mind, her eyes found his across the room and suddenly all the air left his lungs. He grips the mug in his hand a little tighter before looking away after a moment, taking a long swig of ale to calm his nerves. He wasn’t sure what to make of this discovery, part of him elated to have finally put a name on the feelings he’s had for so long and the other reeling from the idea that he loved a creature of the night. Then the guilt for his harsh words and unnecessary behavior towards her came back and he swallowed down more ale to wash the horrible taste of regret out of his mouth.

After taking a few steadying breaths, he looked over to where she had been standing and found Corvina was no longer there. His eyes scanned the room searching for her, confusion setting in when he couldn’t find her.

”She is out on the ramparts,” the calm voice of Young Uhtred came from beside Sihtric, startling him momentarily before he looked over at the boy. There was kindness in his eyes, the young bishop giving him an encouraging smile as if to let the warrior know that everything would be alright. No more words needed to be said, and Sihtric gave him a quick nod before weaving through the crowd, making his way towards the door that led outside as he left his empty mug on a passing table.

He found Corvina standing along the wall overlooking the sea, the sounds of the waves crashing into the rocks below a soothing melody. The wind blew gently, causing the few torches to flicker wildly as they cast a warm glow on her pale skin and her hair to blow around her shoulders. He walked up beside her, casting a quick glance at her beautiful face before looking out to sea. He struggled to find the words to start, fidgeting with his fingers and the weapons at his side before Corvina blissfully spoke first.

”It had been some time since I smelled pure joy permeating a room like tonight, as deceit and jealousy oft make homes in the people at feasts like this. As much as I missed it, I did not feel in the mood to celebrate with the others,” her voice was clear, but there was a hint of sorrow lacing her words.

Sihtric leaned forward and gripped the wooden posts of the outer wall tightly between his hands, taking a deep breath and speaking in a low voice. “I wanted to say-“

”Save your breath, Sihtric. I have no interest in anything you have to say at all,” she cut him off, giving him a hard stare.

Anger flared up beneath his skin, causing him to snap back at her. “Will you let me say my piece before you write me off for good? I am trying to apologize to you,” Sihtric ground out, facing her and clenching his hands tightly to rein in his emotions.

Corvina scoffed at him, her arms crossed across her chest as she glared at him. “Why should I even believe you, let alone hear you out? You made your feelings about me quite clear and I see no reason to continue with this conversation,” she poked his chest harshly, driving home her point.

”You know nothing about my feelings, Corvina, so do not pretend you do,” he growled down at her, his nostrils flaring as anger and desire war within him. She’s standing just a foot away, the faint scent of blood on her mouth mingling with the salty sea air.

“Enlighten me then, because clearly you cannot show emotion in any reasonable way,” Corvina snarled, fury dancing in her red eyes as she met his glare unflinchingly.

”You drive me to madness, woman! I do not know what it is about you that draws me in and causes me to lose all reason. It is like…every time you are near I cannot think straight and when you are gone, I cannot breathe. I am-“ he stopped abruptly, catching himself before he confessed his feelings but she wasn’t having any of that.

”Say it,” she challenged.

Sihtric took a breath and looked away briefly, his shoulders drooping slightly as he whispered. “I am in love with you, Corvina.”

”And there it is, the crux of the issue. You love me and it irks you, does it not?” she asked angrily, refusing to back down from this confrontation.

“Yes! Because I wanted a wife and family-“ he starts but she cuts him off again.

”You had that with Sidgeflaed before the divorce,” Corvina said incredulously and threw her hands up, aggravated with the Dane. “By the gods-“

”She was not you!” He shouted at her, breathing heavy as the air between them tensed further. He continued when she blinked up at him, a little taken back. “Sidgeflaed was not you, Corvina. I wanted it all, but I wanted it with you,” he reached out to brush a flyaway out of her face but stopped himself, his hand falling back to his side.

There was a beat of silence before Corvina spoke again, this time much quieter. ”Sihtric, you know that…” she trailed off, not needing to say that she couldn’t have given him that. Marriage, yes, but children? That could never be, despite her wanting it at one time many years ago. A drawback of vampirism was being barren, even if it pained her to admit it.

He sighed, looking back out towards the black ocean as he spoke softly. “I know. I know and it kills me inside, because I wanted to know the feeling of waking upside beside you in the morning and seeing the sun play off your hair as we walked along the river. I wanted to live a bright life with you, but you are cursed to live yours in the dark,” he turns back to her, regret clear in his eyes. “I am truly sorry, Corvina. I know my apology is not nearly enough to make up for everything I have said and done over the years, but it is genuine.”

”I do not view my existence as cursed, you know. How could I? I have lived a long time, yes, but I have truly lived. I have loved and lost, learned and seen fascinating things. I have had the pleasure of watching humanity change and evolve from primitive to modern. You see my lack of mortality as a curse, I see it as a blessing, and I wish you would see it that way too,” she spoke softly, looking directly into his eyes as she silently willed him to listen for once.

After watching him grapple with her words quietly, she licked her lips, running her hands along the front of her skirts as she collected the rest of her thoughts. There was always the suspicion that Sihtric’s feeling ran deeper than fleeting lust, that scent having lingered on his skin in the past clueing her into his unspoken thoughts, but to hear him admit it? That was something else entirely. In truth, she had wanted him in some selfish way, finding him to be a fascinating man with an intoxicating scent. Corvina wasn’t one to usually feel envy, but the day she learned he married his ex-wife, the bitter taste in her mouth had been overwhelming. Everything after just seemed to confuse her further, his hot and cold mentality giving her whiplash. No better time than now to set it right, life was a fleeting thing after all.

Looking back at him with a perplexed expression, she asked the question that came to mind. “I have to ask, why did you never tell me, Sihtric? I had always suspected, but humans are so…contradictory with their own emotions and you never really know what one’s intentions are.”

Sihtric chuckled and shook his head, his voice coming out amused. “Like you said, I cannot show emotion in any reasonable way. And just between us, I was scared. These feelings…they are so intense and I did not know how to handle it, gods I still do not. I meant it when I said you drive me to madness, because there is no other word to describe the all-encompassing feeling of being when I am with you. This does not excuse my behavior, and I should have done better for you. If you give me a chance, I will beg for your forgiveness and spend every night I have left making it up to you.”

A half-grin and a giggle was the response he received from Corvina before she started walking back towards the castle and called out over her shoulder. “Well then, let’s see how pretty you beg, warrior,” she laughed, the sound causing the hairs on Sihtric’s arms to stand on end. He followed after her quickly, his mind running wild with less than innocent thoughts and the memory of their heavy conversation floating to the back of his mind.

He thought she was beautiful before, but he knew with certainty that she was beyond magnificent now. The moment they made it to her room, she made him actually get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness for quite a long while. As embarrassing as it was at first, Sihtric found himself doing it all almost without hesitation for that pretty smile she gave him. His reward for his act? Fulfilling one fantasy he had wanted for so long. She let him taste her.

At first, her skin was cold and caused his own to tingle wherever they made contact, but he soon started to crave that cool feeling as he heated up, his lips placing reverent kisses along her inner thighs as he pushed her dress up to her hips and exposed her core to his gaze. His mouth literally watered and he had to take several breaks to calm down, wanting to savor this moment as long as he could. The moment his lips made contact with her folds, he audibly groaned at the slightly sweet taste and buried his face further between her thighs. His large hands gripped her legs, placing them over his shoulders as he feasted on her, spurred on by the sounds she made and the way her fingers scratched at his scalp as she pulled his dark hair. He refused to let her squirm away, shifting one arm over her hips and sliding two fingers inside, searching for that sweet spot that had her back arching off the bed and hissing in pleasure.

He nearly finished in his trousers when Corvina came on his tongue, the lewd sounds of his mouth on her while he brought her down causing him to twitch uncomfortably against the leather. Sihtric whined when she pushed his head away from her, but before he could protest, she pulled his face to hers and kissed him with such ferocity that his complaints died on his tongue as she swallowed it. Nothing about it was gentle, the tips of her fangs scraping along his lower lip and their teeth clashing against the others. Hands pulled at laces and straps, their clothes and his weapons finding new homes on the floor as everything was spoken in actions rather than words. He shivered again, both from the air in the room and the feel of her skin against his.

Corvina laid back on the bed and he wasted no time crawling over her, kissing up her pale body and paying special attention to the scars that told her story haphazardly across her skin. Hooking her leg over his hip, he lined up with her entrance and pressed forward slowly, groaning at the way she took him as if she was always meant to. His mismatched eyes locked on her crimson ones, his hips moving slowly and deeply at first as he pulled the most beautiful noises from the vampire beneath him. Muttered praises fell from her lips, her hands cupping his face tenderly before she whispered against his lips to go faster. He complied readily, the guttural groan Corvina made echoing off the stone walls of her chambers. He felt her nails digging into the skin of his back harshly, but the pain was nothing compared to the feeling of seeing her start to lose control.

With a wicked grin and insane strength, she flipped the both of them over, Sihtric letting out a soft gasp as his back was suddenly against the mattress and she looked down at him with the most enticing expression he’d ever seen on her face. The change in position had him deeper than before and she moaned loudly as she rode him hard and fast, the two of them rapidly approaching their climaxes as their hips snapped against each other, finding a rhythm as Sihtric’s hands grasped at her hips and sides. Without missing a beat, Corvina leaned forward and kissed his pulse point, a silent request to let her bite him as her hand came up to cradle the back of his head tenderly, a stark contrast to the rough way they took the other. He breathed his consent in her ear and leaned his head back against the bed to give her better access, the responding rumble that escaped her throat vibrating through his entire being deliciously.

When her teeth pierced her skin, Sihtric swore he blacked out from the intensity of the feelings. Pain at first, then pleasure he had never before experienced flooded his veins and he came violently, his body shaking and twitching as she held him down to prevent wasting his life force. She moaned at the addicting taste, following after him into ecstasy and her walls clamping down on him as the warmth of his spend filled her womb. She released his neck with a wet pop after one final swallow, running her tongue along the wound to clean up the thin line of blood that trickled free. As she started to sit back, Sihtric reached up with a trembling hand to cup her cheek, his eyes following the movement of her tongue along her lips to grab any lingering blood around her mouth. He spotted a bit she missed on the corner of her mouth and he pulled her down to him, his tongue darting out as he licked it clean, the metallic taste of his own blood causing both their pupils to dilate at the act. A breath passed before their lips clashed again, causing desire to burn hot once again.

They laid in bed some time later, having had their fill of each other for the moment. Corvina was pressed against Sihtric’s side, the coolness of her skin something he found soothing now that the initial shock had subsided. His fingers danced along her side, her head resting on his chest as her arm was draped across his waist. Their breathing had long since settled, the post coital bliss having yet to release them from its hold. His mind wandered with questions of what if and what next, his mouth refusing to let him break the intimate silence first.

”I can hear you thinking, you know. Speak your mind,” Corvina asked in an amused tone.

”Where do we go from here? What does this make us?” He met her questions with his own, looking down at her as she turned her head to look up at him. Fear of her rejection came crawling back into his mind, the need to know the answer holding him in place.

”What do you want this to be?” She responded, resting her chin on his chest as she gave him a small smile. She was willing to move past all the anger from the past, knowing that he was a man of his word and he would make it up to her. Besides, he was not the worst man she had ever dealt with, Sihtric was a far cry better than egotistical Julius.

He took a deep breath, mulling over her question before landing on an answer. “I want us to be together, but could we maybe…start over? No lingering animosity, just two people wanting to be?”

Corvina sat up and smiled down at him, offering her hand and speaking in a sweet voice. “My name is Corvina. What is your name, warrior?”

He chuckled and kissed the back of her hand, his lips lingering against her pale skin. “I am called Sihtric,” he responded in his low voice, feeling the start of something new take root in his mind.

Tag List: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @valeskafics @mrsarnasdelicious @bouncehousedemons @gemini-mama @whitedarkmoonflower @synintheraven @zaldritzosrose @alexagirlie @fallingintoyourlilaceyes

[sunshinebingo]

This has been my attempt at beating writer’s block after following a few advices. Thank you so much @littlefishbigsea and @secret-third-thing for the help 🙏. And thank you @lulling-night-sky for listening to my whining 😅

Summary: When his mate barged into his office claiming to be sick, Lucien had to find out what she had and how to take care of her.

Word Count: 2k

Warning: NSFW

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

Lucien’s eyes burned from reading these damn papers for so long. He had been working for hours. But he could not stop until after he had gone through all of them or they would add up to the work he would have the next day. Assuming that it was probably close to dinner time, Lucien set to work again, hoping to finish it all before he could join his mate.

The thought of spending time with Elain after made him even more determined to complete the task at hand. Since he had been busy the whole day and afternoon, Lucien intended to devote all his time and attention to her alone. But he had to be done with his work first. He grabbed a scattered piece of leather near his stack of papers and tied his loose hair up in a bun. For now, he needed to put all distracting thoughts aside.

The door to his office burst open before he could focus back on the paper before him. “I need a healer,” Elain loudly exclaimed.

“What!?” Lucien pulled his chair back in a panicked state. Was she sick? What was –

“Help!” She interrupted his thoughts as she quickly approached his desk. The back of her hand was pressed to her forehead and she wore a strange expression on her face. Elain reached him before he could stand and oh so gently dropped herself on his lap with a breathless, “Help! I’m fainting.”

One of her hands reached around his neck and the other came to rest on his chest. Lucien raised his eyebrows at the realisation of the act. Then, all his blood started rushing down to his cock when he really looked at her from head to toe.

His sweet mate was wearing a thin lavender nightgown with only her long loose hair to conceal her breast beneath the sheer fabric. Was it already time for bed? Lucien feared that he had again lost track of time. A glimpse at the partially covered window behind him confirmed that the sun was just starting to set. Then why –

“I need help,” Elain pleaded again.

“How can I help you my dear lady in distress?” Lucien asked, bringing a hand to inspect her beautiful face. His other hand wrapped around her waist to support her better.

“I feel…” Her wide doe eyes bore into his like her life truly depended on him. “I feel very hot.”

Lucien pursed his lips to stop a smirk. “Can you tell me more about your symptoms?” he asked as seriously as he could. Elain nodded and pulled his hand away from her face. She dragged his hand slowly down her body, starting from her neck, to the valley of her breast, going down and down until she stopped right between her legs.

“I’m feeling very hot down here,” she said innocently, still looking into his eyes. Lucien kept staring at her as he dragged his hand lower until he reached the hem of her nightgown at her thigh. He slipped his hand under the fabric and went straight to where his lady needed him most.

Lucien took a deep breath in at the first contact of his fingers against her centre. When he felt how wet she was, he decided that his work would kindly have to fuck off for the day because he had much more urgent matters to tend to.

Lucien inserted two fingers inside her and watched as Elain shifted on his lap with a whimper. He slowly slid his fingers in and out of her a few times before he removed his hand completely.

“I see now,” he said, ignoring the disappointed look on Elain’s face. For now. “I know exactly what you have.”

Lucien lowered his face to her ear. “You are horny. And you need to be fucked.” He bit the tip of her pointed ear slightly, then whispered, “Hard.”

Elain’s face flushed and she pulled on his shirt to make him face her again. “Where do you think I can find someone to fuck me?” She asked, using that voice that was filled with sweet honey.

This time, Lucien did not hide his wicked grin. Elain let out a yelp when he suddenly stood up while still holding her. He quickly swiped away all the papers from his desk before placing her down before it. He would deal with the mess later.

Lucien grabbed her by the waist and pressed himself against her, caging the top of her body between his arms and making her feel how hard he was for her. “No one else but me can fuck you, my lady.”

A second later, Lucien’s pants were down, Elain’s nightgown was gathered at her waist and his cock was sliding inside her wet centre. It started very slow. She let out a moan as his cock went deeper until he was fully in. He remained like that for a moment and just savoured the feeling of being inside her. It still amazed him, even after being this intimate with her for over a year, how easily and quickly Elain could make him this hard and make him empty his thoughts of everything else but her.

Lucien gathered all of her hair over her shoulder, leaving the other and her neck exposed so that he could trace his lips and tongue there. One of his hands went up her front until he could grab her breast through her nightgown and torture her even more. Elain reached behind her and tangle a hand in his hair. Lucien sucked hard right between her neck and shoulder when she pulled on his hair. The little vixen was getting impatient. And he had gotten painfully hard at this point. Lucien grabbed both of her hands and pinned them on his desk.

Then, as promised, Lucien started to fuck her. Hard. He showed her no mercy as he started pounding into her, going as deep as their position allowed him to. His office was soon filled by her loud moans and his groans mixed the sound of their bodies slapping against each other. The paper-thin fabric she was wearing was probably doing nothing to stop her from being marked where her skin was pressed against the wooden desk. But it would just give him another excuse to take care of her later. That did not seem to be bothering her anyway if Lucien had to judge by the lewd sounds she was making.

When he felt that she was close, Lucien fucked her faster. He leaned down on her and started kissing and sucking wherever he could reach her skin on her neck and shoulders. The strap of nightgown fell off one of her shoulders and down her arm. Elain held onto his hands tightly as her orgasm hit her.

Lucien kept moving until Elain’s body collapsed and she pressed her forehead to the desk. With the delightful view that she now offered him, Lucien released her hands to grab her ass instead. He gave her a few moments to catch her breath before he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back. Her cheeks and nose were flushed, her eyes closed and her lips parted as she breathed through her mouth.

His other hand trailed from her ass to her front. Lucien started rubbing slow circles on her clit. His cock twitched inside her when he went lower and touched her where their bodies were still joined.

‘’Are you feeling better, love?’’ he purred in her ear.

Lucien slowly slid his cock out and went back in. He gathered the wetness at her entrance and brought his hand back to her clit. He teased her there as slowly and he moved his cock in and out of her. He smirked when a delicious whimper left her.

When he started to move back again, Elain chased him by pushing her ass against him. She turned her head to the side. Lucien could not resist the temptation of her lips when she brought her mouth close to his. He kissed her, tasting her tongue and lips as she started moaning again from what his hand and his cock were still doing to her.

‘’More,’’ she said when she pulled her face away.

Lucien pulled back until his cock was almost completely out. He gave her a final peck on the cheek and thrusted back inside her so hard that the desk creaked beneath them. And he started fucking her again. He stood up behind her and felt himself going even deeper than before.

She was so warm and wet around his cock that everything ceased to make any sense. Lucien got closer to the edge the more he listened to her cries of pleasure. He cursed when she tightened again around him. He pressed his hand harder on her clit, the other holding tight to her waist. A few more thrust and Lucien lost all control of his body. He came inside her with a loud groan. Elain followed as soon as he spilled himself in her. Her body tensed and her legs slightly trembled. She threw her head back and came on a silent gasp.

Elain’s dropped her head onto the desk again with a sigh. Lucien stayed as close to her as he could and rested his forearms at her sides. ‘’So,’’ he asked with his head on her shoulder, ‘’Better?’’ He was unable to gather more words than that. Elain did not respond but the giggle she let out was answer enough for him. This female would cause his death someday and he would still be grateful for it.

Lucien straightened up when Elain’s body started sliding down from under him due her weakened legs. Both of their clothes were sticking to their bodies from the sweat. Their hair were in no better state. He removed the leather that had almost completely loosened and let his own hair fall down his back.

He lifted Elain up to make her sit on his desk. She immediately wrapped her arms around him, pulled him close and rested her head on his chest. Lucien kissed the top of her head and held her close to him. It was not the first time that they were cuddling in his office half naked. Knowing his mate, it would definitely not be the last time that his work would be interrupted like this. Not that Lucien would ever complain.

A distant ding brought their attention to the door. ‘’Oh,’’ Elain exclaimed excitedly, pulling back from his embrace, ‘’Dinner is ready.’’

She hopped down and adjusted her nightgown and her hair like she was about to walk into a room full of people when they were the only ones in their home. Lucien took the opportunity to pull his pants back on. Elain took him by the hand when they were both presentable enough for the furniture and plants of the empty house.

‘’Come on,’’ she started walking towards the door. ‘’Let’s have a nice meal together. Then maybe I’ll get sick again by dessert.’’

Lucien snorted behind her. ‘’Will you be wearing this the whole time?’’ he gestured with his free hand at the nightgown that could barely be considered as clothing.

Elain turned to him while she kept walking down the hall. ‘’I can take it off if you don’t like it.’’ Lucien knew exactly what she meant from her saccharine voice and the mischief in her eyes. Damn him if that did not start to make him hard again.

‘’Maybe I will be the one getting sick next time from the torture you put me through.’’

Elain stopped. Her eyes travelled to his pants, a smile gracing her lips when she looked up at his face again. She stood on her tip-toes to kiss him on the cheek. ‘’Don’t worry,’’ she said, surprisingly energetic again, ‘’I will take good care of you.’’ Then she turned and pulled on his hand again as she continued walking.

[azsazz]

Ruby Red

Cassian x Reader

Summary: Anon Request:Hi I love your writing! Could you maybe write something with a Cassian x Reader where they have been mates for awhile and it’s their anniversary soon and the Reader had been feeling like she hasn’t surprised him recently in the bedroom so they get like a nice red lace set and funky time ensues and Cassian is just like heart eyes for them???😵‍💫

Warnings: Smut!

Word Count: 2,624

_________________________________________

You couldn’t stop looking at him all night.

Cassian had insisted on meeting you at Rhysand and Feyre’s house for the annual Starfall party, the holiday celebrated across Velaris. You’d been confused at the time, when he told you Azriel would winnow you to the gathering, but seeing him in his sheer black shirt, halfway unbuttoned to show off his delicious tan abs and dark ink swirling across his chest, you knew that if he’d put it on in your presence you wouldn’t have made it to the party at all.

And by the smirk he wore every time his eyes caught yours he knows it too.

You hadn’t yet approached him, heading straight to pour yourself a glass of hearty liquor as your mouth had suddenly gone dry at the sight of him. It was going to be very hard to control yourself if you were by his side.

They’d always talked about males being territorial, but surely they’d have nothing on you while your mate looked like a God.

You’d seen him dressed up of course, for your mating ceremony and the dinners held with the Inner Circle, but never like this. You want to stalk over to him and run that expensive fabric through your fingers, feel it against your skin. You want your mate to take you home right now and bring you to bed.

If this is what he has planned for Starfall, you can’t even begin to wonder what Cassian is planning for your upcoming anniversary.

Taking another sip from your glass you peel your eyes from your mate and back to Feyre, who’s been speaking to you for the past few minutes while you gazed at your lover. She wears a knowing look and you flush at being caught.

“Sorry,” you clear your throat, embarrassed at the filthy nature of your thoughts when they drifted to your mate, “What were you saying?”

The High Lady shakes her head fondly, puffing out a breath of laughter, bidding you parting words as Cassian saunters over to you. Up close the material is even more beautiful, silky smooth and shimmering beneath the faelights.

“Hello, Love,” your mate places a warm hand on your arm as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. You savor the taste of him; cedar and the bitter alcohol he’s been drinking. “Why haven’t you come to greet me?” The mirth in his voice is unmistakable, his eyes glittering with mischief.

“I hardly recognized you without your leathers,” you gesture to his clothing. Unable to stop yourself, you reach out to touch the fabric. It’s exactly as soft as you imagined it and you let your fingers brush across his exposed chest, causing the male to shiver slightly.

“Do you like it?” he asks and you look up at him because he doesn’t sound cocky, he sounds genuinely worried that it’s not something you’d like seeing him in. His brows are furrowed uneasily, mouth turned downward in question.

“I love it,” you place your palm flat against his thumping heart, soothing over his skin with your thumb, “In fact, how about you come home with me and I’ll show you exactly how much I love it.”

The steady beating beneath your hand picks up at your words while your mate lets out a hearty laugh, pulling you into his chest tightly.

“(Y/N), the party’s just started,” he whispers amusedly into your hair.

You turn your head, kissing between his pectorals and giving the muscle a kitten lick, “I don’t think anyone will even notice.” A blatant lie. “We can come back afterwards,” you offer at the knowing look he gives when you peek up at him, “It’ll be like we didn’t even leave.”

His body shakes with laughter beneath you and you let out a disappointed sigh before he even speaks. “I’d like that, but I think we both know that once we get back home we won’t be leaving for the rest of the night.”

“Is that so bad?” You pout, resting your head on his chest. It’s so warm beneath your chin you could die right here a happy female, but not before you get what you so desperately want. Usually you had no trouble getting your mate to take you to bed, why is he being so hesitant all of a sudden? “We’ve been to every Starfall party for the last fifty years, I’d say we’ve earned it.”

“How I wish that I could give you everything you want, Love,” he smooths your hair back, tucking it behind your ear with a soft look.

“You can,” you protest gently, pressing your body flush against his. You don’t care who’s watching, all you want is Cassian and Cassian now.

“Don’t you want your gifts? Or dessert?” he tries to distract you but to be honest, your body pushing up against his has the warlord trying to keep his own cool. “I saw Naula and Cerridwen made your favorite.”

“I don’t care,” you stare up at him with the look that you know he can’t refuse. “All I want is you.”

Gods, he really tried his best. He’d lasted all of a half hour before his walls started crumbling down. Just by the looks you were giving him he’d known he’d done well. He’d stayed clear of the other females at the party, for he knew you’d ascend on them like the beautiful huntress you were if they did so much as look his way.

You are the only female that he wants.

“Let’s go,” his voice is husky. He can’t control himself when you’re like this, needy and possessive. It’s so fucking hot, he’d take any sort of teasing from his friends to see you like this.

He scoops you up into his arms and you can’t hide the grin from your face as he begins the short fly to your house. Gifted to you by the High Lord, it’s lavishly over-the-top but you’ve grown to accept and love the home you share with your mate.

You can’t keep your hands to yourself the entire flight, kissing and sucking at Cassian’s neck as he maneuvers the skies as quickly as he can, his cock straining against his nice trousers and his body vibrating with anticipation.

“(Y/N),” he gasps at a particularly arousing nip, “We’re almost home.”

“Better hurry then,” you whisper in his ear, mouthing at his lobe.

His wings pound faster.

Cassian’s knees nearly buckle when he lands on the balcony, striding across the stones and shoving open the doors with his shoulder.

You squeal as he drops you on the bed, caging you in, lust wild in his eyes. He kisses you roughly, body dipping to meet yours but then you’re pushing at his chest and he leans back, confused.

“Wait,” you gasp, and he groans as you scramble and slip from beneath him. You’d convinced him to bed you, teased him on the entire fly over, and now you’re telling him to wait?

But when he turns to face you your sultry smile has him freezing in his spot.

“What?” he asks, and you press gently at his shoulders, urging him to sit down. His cock is straining so hard against the inseam of his pants he nearly groans at the feeling but he does as he’s told.

“Your gift,” you tell him, stepping between his legs and rewarding him with a kiss. His hands snake around your waist, caressing your ass as he stares up at you, chasing the feeling of your lips against his.

“Can’t the gifts wait?” he groans, “I just want you, right here, right now.”

And that cutting grin on your face makes his cock throb in his pants. He nearly whimpers as you step away from him, shaking your hand out of his because he doesn’t want to let go.

“You’re going to like this one, I promise,” you offer, slowly sliding the straps of your dress over your shoulders.

And he absolutely does. The dark silky silver fabric cascades from your body like liquid metal, pooling on the floor at your feet and what you don underneath has your mate nearly coming at the sight.

A set of lingerie that has clearly been made custom with the finest of dark lace. He’d noted the gloves you wore with two red rubies inset on the back of your hands, but he’d just thought it a tribute to him as part of your Starfall attire. Seeing this, a jewel sewn into the revealing clothing in all of the spots his own siphons sat in his armor…he is one lucky male.

Your name is a whisper of awe as you give him a spin, his wide eyes drinking you in, committing it to memory.

You place your hand in his and he tugs you gently nearer, his breath pants and pupils blown wide with lust at the sight of you.

“Do you like it?” you murmur with a soft smile, watching how his eyes graze your body. You shiver under his intense gaze.

“Let me show you exactly how much I like it,” his voice is gruff, repeating the words you’d spoken earlier in the night when you’d seen his shirt.

His grin is pure sex as he pulls you down onto the bed. You squeal at the movement, straddling his waist as he guides you to kiss him with a hand on the back of your head.

He groans into your mouth as you swirl your hips against his. You shudder, feeling the length of his cock through the fabric keeping it pinned to his leg. Gods, it’s been too long.

“You look so fucking beautiful in my siphons,” his voice is rough as he moves from your lips to your neck, palming at your breasts, thumb brushing across the jewel at the center of your chest before he mouths over it.

Cassian opens his eyes at the faint glow and his moan is guttural when he realizes that it’s the rubies glinting exactly like his stones, an extra charge that you’d had to pay, but entirely worth every single mark you’d spent on the outfit.

You trace down his exposed torso, tongue following in a hot stripe down his chest, fingers fumbling with the buttons as you go. You can feel his muscles contorting beneath your lips, his hands skimming up your thigh-high stockings, rubbing his thumbs over the two glittering stones there, the shuddering breaths from his heaving chest as he looks down at you with those burning eyes.

The button gives way easily beneath your eager fingers but the strain of his prick against the fabric of his pants has the rest of them stuck, and at the frustrated huff you let out he’s growling and tearing the fabric apart, buttons flying everywhere.

He doesn’t stop there, won’t give you the chance to tease him out of his undergarments. His hips lift up and you shriek, bracing your hands against his shoulders so you don’t topple forward while he makes quick work of pushing his bottoms down, his cock thick and dripping against his hip.

You rut against him, can’t help yourself at the sight of his enormous prick, twin groans filling the otherwise silent room. 

“Let’s see how bright they get when you come,” his grin is feral and your cunt clenches, breath catching in your throat at his suggestion. You let your head roll back on your shoulders at the thought, but Cassian’s grabbing your hands and tugging you down so you’re flush against his bare body.

It’s really not fair that he’s fully naked beneath you because all you want is to feel every inch of him as he fucks up into you, it’s been too long since you’d had sex, but you’ve committed to your Starfall gift and he seems to be enjoying it much more than you thought.

His fingers dip into your panties and you gasp as he brushes lightly between your folds, the stones adorning your body flickering in time with your whimpers of pleasure. Cassian curses lowly under his breath as he watches. He can’t stop looking at you, gaze moving from a stone to meet yours and back again. 

“You needly little thing,” he purrs as you grind down on his fingers, gasping at the feeling of his calloused and rough hand brushing against your sensitive clit.

He could get off like this, watching you, red siphons glowing brightly, shining softly against your smooth skin in the best way, lighting your features in the sensual light. You look so incredibly beautiful atop him and he can’t control his hips as they buck up, eager for friction.

“Cass,” you plead and that’s all it takes for him to slide the lace of your panties aside and press his dripping cock into your cunt. You shudder at his girth, he’s going too slow, so you settle down onto him with a satisfied sigh, hips meeting his.

“Shit, (Y/N),” he hisses, feeling the walls of your cunt convulse around his prick, grasping your hips in a bruising grip to halt the teasing bounce you give him. “Give me a second or I’ll come right now.”

You moan at his words, pinching your nipples, utterly aroused by his admission. It had been a while since you and Cassian had been in this position, busy with your respective roles to the Night Court, but the fact that you have him nearly releasing at the first touch of you wrapped around him has you pulsing with delight.

“As long as you make me come I have no problem with that,” you release a shaky breath. Your body is vibrating with need, if he doesn’t let you start moving soon you might cry.

And of course he’ll make you orgasm, of that you have no worry. It must sound like a good plan to him because he’s moving now, planting his feet on the bed to jackknife up into you, causing a drawn-out keen to escape your mouth.

He wasn’t kidding about being close because he’s snaking his hand down once again, circling your clit at the exact rhythm he’s memorized to get you off quickly. He saved it for instances when he couldn’t help but need you, before meetings, dinners with the Inner Circle, or when he was supposed to be on watch in the Court of Nightmares, when you had looked like sin in your dress and he’d dragged you into an empty room to take care of you.

You can feel your orgasm coiling, heat pooling low in your gut, and every noise of encouragement you make has him edging closer and closer to his own. He can’t hold it in any longer, not after the particularly erotic swirl of your hips, the sihpons on your outfit burning bright with pleasure in the darkened room. You’re almost blinding to look at, ethereal in the crimson light and he tips into a pleasured state with a shout, dragging you with him.

Your body is mush when you come down from your high, body going boneless against the Illyrian beneath you. He tilts your chin up, capturing your lips in a lazy but passionate kiss as he wraps his arms around you, holding you closer.

His mouth is hot across your shoulder, teeth clasping around the strap of your top and releasing, letting the elastic snap against your skin. You jolt on top of him but he tightens his grip on you, a sheepish grin on his face when you give him a look. 

Cassian brushes the hair from your face, murmuring sensually, “Keep these on. We’re most definitely going to have round two.”

[moonmaiden1996]

The Confrontation

Past One Shots in this OsferthxReaderxAemond Series

The moonlight bath the bay in a silvery glow. The view was practically beautiful, there was a tranquil peace that fell over Kings Landing. In the months that you settled in the city, this was the first peace you had been given. The wedding was only two moons away and the sheer excitement made you giddy. Tonight's dinner was a simple affair, just the royal family and you, save the king you retried early. 

"Stunning isn't it." you sighed, the heat from the twins either side of you shielding you from the chill in the air. 

"Hmmmm" Aemond purred as he stared down at you, so close to feel his hot breath against you skin.  

Osferth nuzzled his shoulders against yours, his hand next to you on the stone banister, his pinkie gently stroking your skin.  

This was nice, tender. A rare moment to be shared between the three of you, without the eyes of the court or the Order of the Seven on you. 

"Ahhh isn't this sweet my little brothers and their little bride to be. All perfect and pompous." Aegon slurred. The smell of Dornish wine overpowering the air, disrupting the pocket of peace you had managed to find. 

"Perhaps you should go get another drink...’’ Aemond spat inched forward.  

‘’or better yet a strong tea." Osferth turned to, shielding what view of you Aemond was not already obscuring with his body. 

"Fuck off you pious pricks!" Aegon snapped. 

"There is a lady present."Aemond growled, his tall frame surging forward. 

"Ahhh, the twin princes: perfect. The one-eyed protector and the Saintly prince... you think your perfect. Chosen by the gods with you stunning bride." He leered at you. "But tell me darling Osferth... you do know how the act is done? At least in principle? Where you put your cock and all that?" Aegon prodded at the golden prince's chest. "Such a disappointment you will be to your darling... Never mind my Lady you still have Aemond I am sure he knows how to give you pleasure... Wait" Aegon chuckled darkly, greasy white hair shaking as he turned to the other twin "you don't... I remember the time I dragged you to the brothel."  

You eyed the drunken prince with disbelief. The thought of noble, honourable Aemond in a flesh house was almost insane. It made you want to laugh but as you lookedat Aemond, frozen, with the look of shame written across his face, Osferth looking sadly at him, made you feel sick. 

"... you should have seen him.’’ his was laughing now, a dry, evil laugh ‘...crying beneath the whore as she rode his pathetic limp dick." he cackled. "Your pathetic prince...your wedding night should be a pleasant experience "Aegon chuckled. "... I am more than happy to help break you in... might make your wedding night bearab..." Aegon leer was cut off by the sicken crack as Aemond's fist collided with Aegon's face. 

Before you knew it, Aemond was tumbling on the stone floor, rolling round, delivering blow after blow onto his brother's face. Aegon defence was clumsy, easily overpowered by Aemond’s precise and deliberate movements. 

"Boys!" Alicent shrill gasped as the boys barrelled into the room, knocking over the table that her and Helaena had been playing cards, but neither of them broke apart, not for want of trying of Aegon’s part, as he tried to lever his brother off him, but he remained pinned underneath his brother, complete at his mercy. 

"Osferth do something" Alicent implored as Aegon flayed helplessly from the floor. Blood now oozed thickly from his mouth and noise, purple bruises already marring his tanned skin. 

"Aemond... Aemond stop...  for the love of the gods...stop." Osferth grunted pulling Aemond up and away from their battered brother. 

Never had you seen Aemond so angry, his breath came out in heavy pants, hair tussled, an imposing figure standing in the middle of his mother's solar, a broken body at his feet. It made you shiver, not in terror or disgust but delight, you wanted to touch me, to feel his hot skin beneath your fingers but the sound of your heels on the floor pulled his purple eye from his brother to you.  

You retreated. The look on his face was indescribable, a look he had never seen before. Broken and sad.  

Another sickening slap, echoed across the room. 

" Oh Aegon" Alicent gasped as Osferth hunched over the older prince, his head lolling weakly to the side at the sharp force 

"You dare speak your vileness to her and you will have more to fear then Aemond. You are no brother of mine" Osferth spat as he pulled Aegon to his feet by the scruff of his shirt, ungracefully pushing him into the waiting chest of their mother. 

You reached for Aemond but he flinched away turning sharply to glare across at his brother who found himself being coddled in their mothers' arms, "get him out of my sight before I run him through and become kinslayer." 

In the brief time you had known the Queen mother, you had seen her endure her father and the king with a resolute but gracefully dignity, eyes always burning with a sense of purpose. Now those eyes only held one thing. Fear. It was no lie that Osferth was her favourite child, her embodiment of her faith. Aemond being her dependable son, her strong shoulder, while Aegon her little boy. And for them to turn so viciously terrified her. 

"Take him to the maester... I will calm the princes'’ You prodded her. 

"Bless you" the Queen gushed as she pulled the half unconscious prince up and out the room closely followed by his poor wife. 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

Your gnawed at you lip as you watched Aemond pace. Osferth staring down at his redding hand. You half expected guards to storm in and drag the young princes away, but none came. Just the peacefully that once again reigned returned. Peaceful but tense. 

"What Aegon said was true... I let him take me to...’ his voice wavered as he spoke. "If you want to break the engagement I understand. You must find me disgusting.’’ 

‘’Kindly do not tell me what I am feeling future husband" You cooed as you took his hand kissing his knuckles. ‘’You will need balm for these" you mumbled as you stared down at his bloody hands', so strong and rough under your fingertips. 

" I don't understand..."  

"What Aegon allowed to happen to you... was unforgiveable." 

" But I allowed it "Aemond started.  

"... If it had been me... taken to a brothel, would you still blame me?" Your words sounded so strange in your mouth. 

" I would never allow it... I would burn them all.’’ Aemond voice a bare whisper, you were even sure if Osferth could hear it above the crackling fire. 

"If I had been there, I would have stopped it... What happened to you was..." you want to say it. Say the word that it was but you could not bring yourself to say it. "I want to harm that woman for what she did... is that wicked of me?’’ You look up at him through your eyelashes "I... hate that you had that your first time and can only ensure that in the future our...coupling is filled with love and pleasure... I want you to feel safe and loved with us... I will never stop loving you... I just want you and Osferth."  

"Do you mean it?"  

" Always" 

Hi all! I am back. Finally got round to finishing off the last o the prompts for these. Two more written for these three and they are about to get smutty! Let me know if you want to be tagged. Like and comment if you can!

@chainsawangel @afro-hispwriter @cookiesanddamilk @multitargaryen

[alicent-apologist]

So I wrote this in like a day, thinking of the Viserys I x OC idea, where he doesn't marry Alicent or Laena and instead marries a lady from another house. I'm not sure whether this will ever be a full fic, but this was fun to write!

The premise is that Viserys married a lady from House Mooton and Alicent married Harwin Strong. Rhaenyra and Harwin still have their affair. This is what follows:

There are a few things which are almost always true.

1. Viserys is a weak man who puts his personal happiness over the wellbeing of the Realm he was given.

Lady Alicent stood in front of the quarters of the 'Yellow Queen', her hands clenched together tightly to prevent her bloodying her fingers further. She was no longer the terrified child who had been sent by her father to comfort the king, only to be so so relieved to find his chambers already occupied. Nor was she the lovestruck, naive, young lady who married Harwin Strong.

2. Harwin Strong's truest, most maddening love is Rhaenyra Targaryen (he is never hers).

Harwin 'Breakbones' Strong had come into Alicent and Rhaenyra's life at the time when he was needed the most. Rhaenyra had been left reeling and wrong-footed by the marriage between her father and Lady Jirelle Mooton and Alicent had fluttered around her, not knowing how to comfort her dearest friend and fend off her father's disappointment.

He was a comfort and a joy when those were rare commodities to be found in King's Landing. The future Lord of Harrenhall was sweet to Alicent and made her feel important and wanted - a heady combination for a girl who had long been defined by her friendship to Princess Rhaenyra.

And so what if he always found her when she was in Rhaenyra's company? As Rhaenyra's companion that was usually where she was. And if he laughed harder at Rhaenyra's jokes? Well, Alicent had never been known for her humour.

(And what if his eyes followed Rhaenyra with a softness in them that Alicent never found when he looked at her? Well, Alicent had always been good at pushing things down and deceiving herself.)

3. Rhaenyra, both ignored and coddled by her father, will never let anything stop her from taking what she wants, not even love.

When Rhaenyra's first son was born and looked almost identical to Alicent's beloved son Alyn, Alicent had turned a blind eye. She had let herself believe Rhaenyra's lies, that her Jacaerys' brown hair and eyes came from their Baratheon heritage. She had closed her ears to the whispers that Alyn and Jace could pass for brothers. It couldn't be true, after all. Her husband and dearest friend would never betray her like that, and certainly not so brazenly!

She gave her husband a daughter, Helena Strong, and a son, Addam Strong, and lived her life in blissful ignorance.

Until the birth of Alicent's third son, Desmond Strong, and Rhaenyra's second son, Lucerys. They could have passed as twins and Alicent could no longer ignore the awful truth laid out in front of her.

4. Alicent's husband would put her children in danger through sheer carelessness.

The whispers became murmurs and the murmurs became rumours. And the rumours got louder and louder until they were all Alicent could hear.

She was looked at with pity, but worst of all, her children were looked at with calculating eyes.

Both factions at court looked at Alicent's children as proof that Rhaenyra was committing treason by passing off her bastards as true-born. The yellows looked at them speculatively and the blacks looked at them like a problem that needed to be solved.

As much as she could, Alicent tried to keep her children from Rhaenyra's, hoping and praying that that would be enough to stop talks of their resemblance. She begged Harwin to take them all to Harrenhall, or at least to let her take them with her to Harrenhall. He refused every time, citing his position as Lord Commander of the City Watch and his desire to have his family with him. Neither her tears or her insults were enough to sway him.

Alicent would lie awake at night, trying to convince herself that her husband's bastards were no threat to her true-born children. Her true fear was not for the here and now, as everyone knew that King Viserys was blind and deaf to any of Rhaenyra's faults. No, her fear was for the future, where her children might be disposed of to protect Rhaenyra's sons.

She would also try to ignore the bitterness that had taken root in her heart. Such a betrayal by two of the people she loved the most had curdled and rotted any regard she had for them.

5. Rhaenyra will never let anything stop her from taking what she wants, especially love.

News that Lucerys Velaryon (Waters) had been made heir to Driftmark at Rhaenyra's urging spread through the court like wildfire.

Did the princess have no shame, to steal what belonged to House Velaryon? It was clear to anyone with eyes that Rhaenyra's sons were not Laenor's, no matter what they tried to claim. What was next, would she try to claim Harrenhall for her youngest son, Joffrey?

Gods be good, would she try to claim Harrenhall for Joffrey?? After taking the birthright of her half-brother and now the seat of House Velaryon, what was to stop her?

Alicent couldn't even count on Rhaenyra's good sense - if she had any she wouldn't have had three children who were clearly not her husband's and tried to pass them off as his!

And, finally, one thing which is always true.

1. Alicent Hightower will never love anyone more than she loves her children.

Queen Jirelle had been a soft, giggly thing when she had first married Viserys. A true daughter of the Riverlands, she had spent her formative years surrounded by songs and romantic stories.

The woman who stood in front of Alicent now had nothing in common with that sweet girl, except for the gentleness in her eyes when she looked at her two sons and two daughters. Time and circumstance had made her cold and calculating, just as it had turned Alicent fearful and bitter.

'Your Grace,' Alicent said with a low curtsy, 'I should very much like to put forward my eldest son, Alyn Strong, as a candidate for betrothal to Princess Aenna and to bring our families together.'

For the first time in a long time, Alicent saw Queen Jirelle smile.

[arctrooper69]

My Cinderella

A series of shorts and ficlets following Fives and his family in an AU in which clones are allowed to have relationships and actual lives outside of the GAR.

Series Masterlist

Beta read by @agenteliix (You da best!)

***

New Beginnings

Fives is overjoyed when he learns that he is to be a father. That same realization also terrifies him.

Warnings: Pregnancy. Talking about being pregnant. Small mention of blood.

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

"Cyare, I'm with child." You frowned. standing in front of the mirror, then rolled your eyes. What am I, a frail woman in a holodrama? You pretended to swoon.

You snorted at the attempted comedy, then straightened up and sighed. Try again.

"Hey baby, guess what? I'm pregnant!" You shook your head. Nope that wasn't it either.

"Hey Fives, guess what's for dinner? A bun in the oven!" You moved your arms wildly, motioning to grandly present your stomach in a dramatic Tah-Dah! moment. Nope. That was even dumber than the last one.

What about just plain and simple? You smiled, "Fives, I'm pregnant."

A resounding crash sounded from behind you and you spun around. Fives stood frozen in the doorway.

"You... you're what!?" He blinked slowly, eyes wide as though he couldn't quite believe what he had just heard.

You froze. Saying it to yourself was one thing but telling Fives, that somehow made everything seem so real.

"I... I'm pregnant." You whispered slowly as if just now coming to that realization yourself. "You're gonna be a father!"

Fives stood in the doorway, leaning heavily against the wooden frame, lips slightly parted.

"Pregnant." he whispered, more of a statement to himself than a question towards you. You're gonna be a father.

Was this a trick? Some holofilm you'd been watching? Did Echo put you up to this? His mind raced between all the scenarios in which you might say those words. None of them felt real. A father. How could he be a father? His heart swelled with pride but all the while a tiny voice from within scolded him sharply. Irresponsible. How could you bring a child into all of this?

But then the sheer joy and disbelief.

A father.

A dad.

Maker, there'd be a mini Fives running around. Rex would love that.

You watched him carefully for a reaction. But there wasn't one. He looked blankly ahead as if his entire being had suddenly stopped working.

Your face fell. He wasn't happy. I should've known better. He's a soldier, he doesn't have time for a baby. A thick knot formed in the back of your throat to accompany the burning in your eyes.

Fives looked surprised but his expression soon turned to one of worry.

"No, no baby, don't cry! What's wrong?!"

Too late. Your chin quivered as you tried hard not to let the disappointed tears spill down your cheeks.

"No, no sweetheart!" Fives rushed forward, folding his arms around you.

"You're not happy?" You sniffed.

Fives let out a laugh so sudden and loud that it made you jump. He pulled away so that he could meet your eyes. "Mesh'la, I'm thrilled!"

"Then why..."

The rest of your question went unsaid as he abruptly met your lips with his.

He pulled away,

"I was just kinda shocked, cyar'ika. I mean.... Me. A dad."

You looked back up at him and couldn't help but giggle. Fives grabbed your hand helping you around the catastrophe on the floor, then paused in confusion as you suddenly jerked your arm from his grasp.

"Fives! You're bleeding!"

"I...what?" He followed your alarmed gaze down to his left hand that was indeed steadily oozing blood from a gash in his palm. "Oh...oops." The two of you surveyed the mess of broken plates on the floor. He winced, looking guiltily back up at your face. You raised an eyebrow, motioning to the smashed dinnerware.

"What was all that stuff for anyway?"

Fives scratched the back of his head, "Uh, well, the old lady next door stopped me and said you might like them. I guess they were supposed to be a present, you know, for the baby or something." He bit his lip, "Sorry, Mesh'la."

You giggled. Granny Em, as you called her, was the first person you told when you found out that you were pregnant. You didn't find much use in fancy dishes but she was so kind to you and you didn't want to refuse her loving gift - not that it mattered now.

Fives groaned as you leaned heavily into his embrace. "I missed you, Mesh'la."

"I missed you too." His lips soon found a home on yours once again. You leaned into the kiss closing your eyes as you felt his hands begin to wander.

"Fives!" You sighed, trying to sound exasperated but the sentiment was quite impossible since you couldn't hold back the growing smile that threatened to overtake your face. "You're still bleeding and it's getting all over my carpet.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" Fives pouted, grabbing a towel from the counter beside him. He rested his chin on the top of your head, wrapping you in his arms again.

You couldn't help but smile before you playfully pulled yourself from his embrace, putting on the sternest face you could muster and grabbed his arm. "Come on, into the fresher with you!"

Fives smirked. His eyes held that mischievous twinkle you'd come to know so well. "The fresher you say?" He waggled his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes. "Not like that."

He growled and swatted at your butt with his good hand as you dragged him over to the fresher.

"Fives!" You scolded as you pulled out the small first aid kit you kept behind the mirror, slapping it lightly into his non-injured palm. "Behave yourself!" The prickly stubble on his face tickled your lips as you placed a peck on his cheek, narrowly avoiding being sucked back into his warm advances.

"Yes ma'am." Fives salutled you playfully. Now it was your turn to swat at him.

"Hey!" he frowned, "How come you get to do that but I'm not allowed."

"Because," you placed another kiss on his cheek as you guided his injured hand to the sink. "Number one, I'm pregnant. And number two, I'm not currently bleeding all over the sink."

"Yeah, yeah." He teased, eyes crinkling as he winked at you.

****

You sighed contentedly, leaning on Fives' bare shoulder as he cleaned himself off.

"I've missed this."

Fives growled and fell backwards onto the bed taking you down with him.

"I did too."

"I missed you more though." You winked at him. Fives moaned, looping his arms around you so that your head lay on his chest.

"I missed you the most."

You lay in the quiet, enjoying the gentle feeling of being completely at home once again.

Fives chuckled in disbelief, "I still can't believe you're gonna be a mom."

You kissed his chest where you lay. "And you're gonna be a dad."

Fives was silent. You shifted onto your side, leveling to meet his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Fives sighed. "I just....I never had a father." He scoffed, "I dont even have parents at all!" He met your eyes, then looked away as if he was embarrassed. "What if..." he spoke so softly you could hardly hear him. "What if I mess up? What if I can't be a good dad?" His voice wavered, broken in a way you'd never heard from him before. "It's just... I'm a soldier, babe. A clone soldier at that. They'll send me out wherever they want. And... And what if -"

"Oh Fives," you whispered softly cutting him off, gently resting your forehead on his. "It's okay to be scared. I'm scared too. Having a kid - it'll be something we have to learn together. This is all new to me too."

He lifted his head meeting his lips with yours. "I know, Mesh'la. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. We'll get through this together and tackle any problems if they arise." You kissed him softly. "I know you'll make a wonderful dad."

"And you'll make a wonderful mom."

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

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[allfortzu]

the entire world, them

-- tzuyu / twice. 876 - fluff, gen - requested, hcs. MEN DNI

what would tzuyu do if her members forgot her birthday?

it's a strange feeling 

there was some disappointment when she didn't receive any wishes at 12, but that was more of an above-and-beyond hope rather than an expectation 

now it's 11 in the morning, and she still hasn't received a single one

it's a chest tightening sadness, the sort that tugs at her heartstrings and blanks her mind completely

of course, other people have remembered; casual friends, colleagues, even that old lady down the street who sells custard bungeoppang

but it's not the same when the people who actually matter don't say it 

not that everyone else didn't matter, but these were her favourite people

the ones she would drop the entire world for 

wouldn't they do the same for her? 

she tries not to make a big deal out of it, though 

it's just a birthday; they've been together for so long that even birthday wishes lose their significance, right? 

she doesn't register most of the day, really

every moment she has with them, there's a suffocating urge to ask: it's my birthday, aren't we celebrating?

and it shows, too

she's quieter, more sullen in her movements. doesn't even really want to spend the day with them anymore

but she's got a job to do, so it's less of a choice for her 

"tzu, you okay?" jeongyeon asks, sensing the change in tzuyu's demeanour

you know why i'm acting like this 

though, now that someone's actually noticed, she feels a little pathetic for being so obvious  

it's less that she thinks they've forgotten, because they would never forget, she's sure

but that would mean they've simply grown to stop caring about it 

so was it wrong that tzuyu still looked forward to it, then? 

was it weird that she looked forward to them showering her in their love all day 

that all their attention would be on her, they would hug her, kiss her, and everything would go as she wanted? 

tzuyu manages her most convincing smile. "i'm fine, just tired." 

the day is a blur

she finds that she doesn't enjoy her birthday that much 

if birthday wishes were real, she wishes wasn't the type who cared

holds back her tears because she's angry and she doesn't want to cry about something not worth her emotions

normally, they would have a birthday dinner together 

tzuyu thinks about treating herself, but even that only serves to remind her of the lack of an actual birthday dinner with her members 

she walks back to her apartment, and for once, can't wait for her birthday to be over 

but then it comes 

and it hits suddenly

she's startled for a second, eight girls in the doorway of her apartment 

"happy birthday!" 

pure, unadulterated joy

she doesn't know why she starts bursting out in tears 

"i thought you all forgot…" she sniffles, rubbing at her nose with the back of her palm, hiding her swollen face behind her hands

"hey, why are you crying!" nayeon panics, lifting the cake up to tzuyu's eyes. "happy birthday?!"

"oh, poor baby," sana coos, pouting herself. "when have we ever forgotten your birthday?" 

she's smothered in an overwhelming group hug, barely able to reciprocate from how much she's crying and the sheer force of it 

she hiccups through her words, the sentences coming out in incoherent mewls

no one can really understand, so they all pile on with their own version of an explanation

"we just wanted it to be a surprise," dahyun purses her lips, downturned

"it was jeongyeon's idea!" chaeyoung points accusingly.

"excuse me," jeongyeon scoffs. "it was a group effort, mind you!"

momo suddenly develops an acute interest in the ground

"personally, i thought it would be a bad idea," mina shrugs, holding her arms up in defense 

"ya! don't lie!" jihyo screams, smacking mina on the shoulder 

an uncontrollable laughter escapes from the base of tzuyu's throat, spilling over in between sobs 

"see! it wasn't that bad of an idea!" jeongyeon says. "she's happy… ish?”

looking at all of them, she finally notices the the little things throughout the day

how chaeyoung let her lay on her shoulder to rest 

how mina got her a cold drink from the cafeteria 

how nayeon paid for her lunch

how dahyun bought her desert after

how momo gave her a thumbs up when she got the choreography down right

how jihyo watched her closely through the mirror, more than she usually would 

and how sana would pat her gently on the head whenever they talked, tip toeing and grinning but never saying why

of course they cared

"i love you all," tzuyu mumbles under her breath, sheepish. "don't do this again, though." 

"ah,” nayeon hums, taking a step forward to pinch tzuyu's cheeks. “you really are the cutest.”

it sets off a ripple of coos and teases from the other members as well, and she's smothered in hugs and kisses once again 

by then, they've created a circle around tzuyu, right in the middle of her apartment 

a bubble from the rest of the world

a place for her to whine and complain about not receiving any birthday wishes 

a space for her to be the type that cares too much, unashamedly 

this is her world — what is there to drop?

[dandelion-wings]

2 times Jean Gunnhildr was nothing like Eula's upbringing had led her to expect, + 1[...]

Thank you for the prompt! With the confession that I kind of slid off it of somewhere in part 2 and never quite managed to remount. XD;; Also I didn't manage to get it much shippier than pre-slash, alas, though you can take whatever implications you like from the ending of part 3. I did enjoy writing it, though, and I hope you enjoy the results regardless! <3

---

1.

"I would think you of all people would understand the importance of reputation, Lady Eula."

Inspector Eroch's smile reminds Eula very much of her uncle's. The oily, insincere politeness is different. Uncle Schubert never saw much cause to be polite to her, at least not once she began rebelling against her family's strictures. But the patronizing air of superiority is irritatingly familiar.

"I have renounced my titles from within the Lawrence Clan," she says sharply. "I will not pretend I am not of noble blood, but should you call me by the incorrect title again, you will pay for the error."

"Miss Lawrence, then. But I'm afraid you're only demonstrating why I cannot allow you to take the knight trials." The Inspector spreads his hands before him, shrugging as if helpless to change his own ruling. "The reputation of the Knights of Favonius would suffer from permitting a member of the Lawrence Clan into our ranks. Perhaps if you were willing to change your name, and enter anonymously...?"

"I will do no such thing!"

"Then there is nothing I can do for you, Miss Lawrence. I'm afraid our interview is at an end."

Behind her, the two knights who had escorted her into the building step forward. Eula clenches her jaw, fighting the urge to reach for her blade. To assault knights who are following their instructions within the Ordo's headquarters would only make her case worse. Both of them already have their hands hovering near their swords, insultingly eager for an excuse to draw. Chin high, Eula turns on her heel and marches out.

She can hear the whispering as she strides through the foyer to the door, almost as loud on her exit as it was upon her entrance. The knights escorting her grin and nod to those who have paused to see her paraded out. One of them gives a thumbs-up to a knight by the door, who chuckles. Anger spears through her at the sound. Eula takes a deep breath, lets it out, and refuses to look at any of them, looking straight ahead and refusing to acknowledge the whispered jeers.

Her steady stride is checked on the steps by someone else coming up. Eula freezes mid-step at the sight of Jean Gunnhildr. She knows the other girl only distantly; her uncle had pointed the Gunnhildrs out to her when they had attended the same parties in her youth, but that clan would never dare associate directly with the Lawrences. Sir Jean must, though, know Eula's face as well as Eula knows hers. And so would the Ragnvindr sons behind her, at whose family parties most of those passing glances had been exchanged.

Amber thinks well of Jean. But then, Jean has no reason not to be kind to her, and even Eula's uncle admits that the Gunnhildrs are always gracious to commoners. Their so carefully-maintained reputation requires it. But by the same dint, their reputation as champions of the people will require cold condescension to a Lawrence like her.

"Lady Eula," Jean says, looking equally taken aback for a moment. Then she recovers her poise. "Amber did say you were going to apply to next week's knight trials. Will you be joining us?"

There it is. Both the insult of the rejected title, and the pretense that Jean wouldn't know exactly what Eula's grinning escort means. Eula draws herself up, taking full advantage of the extra four inches of the higher step to overcome the half-inch of height Sir Jean has upon her. Behind Jean, Diluc Ragnvindr puffs himself up in response, scowling.

"I will not," Eula tells her, keeping both the fury and the disappointment behind it from her voice by sheer force of will. "Your Inspector is too much a coward to risk allowing a Lawrence to so much as try. He claims it would embarrass the Ordo. I must presume that means your knights are so weak that I would humiliate all of them in the trials."

Jean, unexpectedly, frowns. "He refused your application on *those* grounds? If your application wasn't sufficient, that would be one thing, but if you qualify, you should be allowed to try out. Did you appeal to the Grand Master?"

Ah. "I wasn't offered the option."

"That isn't right. I could submit it for you- no, that would also go through the Inspector...." Jean's frown deepens, as if she's thinking through a puzzle. Behind her, Sir Diluc looks equally puzzled, and even more so when Jean suddenly brightens. "I know what you should do. Come to Windrise this Friday. The Grand Master will be training with the captains."

So they can mock her for the arrogance of going over the Inspector's head? But there's no mischief on Jean's face, not even the hint of amusement in her eyes. She looks wholly, unnervingly sincere.

"And you believe he will hear me out?"

"You will have to get his attention first. If you can demonstrate your bladework to his satisfaction, I'm sure he'll listen to your appeal in person. We should arrive at noon. If you're there before us, you can issue a challenge when we arrive."

"Jean," Sir Diluc starts to say. His brother elbows him and hisses something that makes him subside, though he still scowls at Eula. She keeps her attention on Jean, refusing to acknowledge his glare.

"I doubt that the Grand Master would bother accepting a challenge from a Lawrence."

"*I* will. I swear to you, if you challenge me, I will meet it, and the Grand Master will be able to see your prowess in person. If you're half the swordmaster Amber claims, he will be impressed enough to take a personal interest, and I know he'll override the Inspector."

She studies Jean closely, looking for any sign of deceit. Perhaps she only wants the opportunity to show off to the other officers by defeating Eula personally. But there's only the sincerity, and a hint of concern that's even more unnerving coming from one of the Lawrence Clan's ancestral enemies. The thought that a Gunnhildr might *pity* her burns.

"I won't go easy on you," she warns. "And if you give me any less than your best out of some idea that you're helping, then mark my words, I will make you pay for the presumption."

Jean smiles, bright and warm. "I won't."

"Very well." Eula steps aside, starting down the steps around Jean and her entourage, raising her chin high again. "I will be there, and I will give you my best, so long as you do the same. And the next time we speak, I expect you to call me *Sir* Eula."

"I look forward to it," Jean says.

Eula doesn't look back, only continues onward, leaving her boggling escort behind. She refuses to be warmed by those words. But the anger that had been grating in her chest has melted away all the same.

---

2.

"Captain Eula," Sir Kaeya calls, waving far too casually--though as a captain himself, Eula will concede he doesn't owe her a salute--as he passes her on the steps of Ordo headquarters. "Back from your mission already?"

"Captain Kaeya," Eula answers, inclining her head. "We finished in better time than we were allotted."

"No surprises there. And it saves me a detour on the way to my next mission. I'm supposed to let you know that Master Jean wants you to report to her office when you're finished with the Grand Master."

Eula doesn't trust his casual tone. She narrows her eyes, looking for some sign of what he's about. He doesn't bother to hide his amusement, which only grows stronger when she looks at him with mistrust. Clearly there's something afoot.

Nothing he'll tell her about, though. She knows Sir Kaeya's tricks too well. She gives him another nod. "Thank you for telling me."

"It's no problem." Sir Kaeya winks at her, then goes on his way, strolling along as if he has not a care in the world.

She can't help the trepidation as she dismisses her company and heads to the Grand Master's office. Her report to him doesn't worry her; despite some of her knights' reluctance to obey her orders, the mission had gone well. But there should be no reason to have to report to Jean as well.

That uncertainty may make her a bit more brusque, perhaps, than she really should be while giving her report to Grand Master Varka. At least he doesn't seem bothered by her clipped words. He only smiles, and nods along to her report, and ends their interview with loud congratulations and a slap on the back that Eula manages to brace against well enough to keep from staggering.

She's still tense as she leaves his office. The knights in the hallways look at her askance, their eyes as full of concern and suspicion as they've always been. It seems her successful first mission as captain has helped not at all. Eula refuses to acknowledge the burn of disappointment in her breast.  It had been foolish of her to hope that it might be so easy.

It had seemed that easy for Jean. Once she had rooted out the traitors within the Ordo, everyone had agreed she should be made Master of the Knights without a breath of doubt or hesitation. Of course she would be fit for it, just as she'd been ideal for the work of finding those traitors in the first place, came all the whispers--she was a Gunnhildr, after all, wholly devoted to the Ordo, famously incorruptible and trained to achieve a level of competency no other knight could match.

Even Eula's family will admit to the Gunnhildrs' stringent moral standards, although 'stiff-necked' is their description of choice.

Eula can't disagree with it either. Everything she's seen of Jean suggests that she's just as upright and noble as the rumors claim, and devoted wholly to the course of justice. In that light, though, Eula can't take her arranging Eula's entry into the Knights as any sign of *personal* favor, nor her insistence upon sparring with Eula herself when no other knight would train with her, nor even the friendly demeanor she's adopted whenever they speak. Her devotion to the principles of the Ordo requires her to treat Eula as she would any other knight in good standing.

That graciousness could no doubt extend to arranging for any reprimand or demerit to take place in private. Particularly if she's concerned with continuing to counterbalance the prejudice of the other knights. Eula doesn't know what error she could have committed in merely preparing her new company and departing for her mission, but if there was one, plenty of knights would have leapt to report it as soon as she was out the gates.

Another knight gives her a look that wavers between concern and outright fear as Eula passes him. She deliberately ignores his stare. It's only after she's rounded the corner that she realizes she has her sword in hand, drawn from its scabbard and held in a defensive slant across her chest.

Embarrassed, Eula pauses at the door to Jean's office to sheathe it again before she knocks.

"Come in," Jean calls, and rises from her chair, smiling, as Eula enters. "Welcome home, Sir Eula. I heard that your mission went well?"

"Of course it did," Eula says, keeping her back straight and her chin high and refusing to let the 'home' of that greeting either prick or warm her. No doubt it's simply typical phrasing for Jean. "My knights performed admirably, and I made sure that not one of them were injured when we made our assault."

"I heard about that, too. Some of them seemed very impressed at how ready you were to come to their defense."

So Jean went out of her way to speak to Eula's company while Eula was giving her report to the Grand Master. Investigating whatever matter she called Eula here to reprimand her on in the first place?

"Please, sit down," Jean says, gesturing to a chair set in front of her desk. "Will you have some tea with me?"

Eula wants to be offended at this blatant softening of impending criticism, but it's exactly the kind of gesture she would expect from Jean, and too gracious and well-meant to refuse without giving insult herself. Still stiff-backed, she lowers herself into the chair and lets Jean pour her a cup. Jean pours the tea properly, of course, just the right angle of the pot for the stream from its spout to flow quiet and interrupted, filling the teacup exactly as much as she should and no further.

Tense as she is, Eula has to admire the propriety of it. She accepts the teacup with well-trained grace and takes the requisite first sip of a guest being served, while Jean waits with her own cup held correctly in front of her. *No one* in the Ordo, or for that matter the rest of Mondstadt, holds their teacup as Eula was taught. It doesn't surprise her that Jean does. The Gunnhildrs are aristocrats themselves, after all.

"A fine tea, well-brewed," she declares, lowering her own cup. "The bitter edge to the flavor comes out clearly without overpowering the floral notes."

"I'm glad that you like it," Jean says, and her pleased smile seems genuine. "This is a Tianheng oolong from Liyue. Our new Librarian recommended it to me, and showed me how to brew it properly."

Jean does like to disclaim her accomplishments by playing up others' contributions. At first Eula had thought it was for appearances, another way the Gunnhildrs keep the favor of the common people, but she's come to realize that it's less calculated than that. Jean really is that gracious. It rankles, just a little, that such graciousness comes to her as easily as do all other aspects of command.

Hearing her praise the Librarian rankles for another reason. The woman looks at Eula all too knowingly whenever they happen to be in the same room. Eula *knows* she's read all the books in that library, including those that list off the Lawrence Clan's many atrocities. That she's developing such a friendship with Jean that she can recommend teas to her, and may even know already what error Jean has called her here to discuss....

Eula wants to simply *ask* and get it over with. But Jean is acting with aristocratic propriety, and therefore, she must do the same.

"This may be an indelicate question, Sir Eula...."

Here it is. Eula sits up straighter in her chair, bracing herself. "Don't beat around the bush."

"Did all of your knights listen to you and obey you on your mission?" Jean leans forward, anxiety shining in her eyes. "I tried to speak to any I was concerned about before you left, and I transferred Sir Reina and Sir Jacques to your company because I trusted them both to behave professionally and reinforce that among the other knights. But if anyone did give you trouble, I would like to know, so I can deal with that as the Master of Knights. I very much want you to succeed in concert with your knights, not despite them."

She'd wondered about the last-minute transfers--and suddenly, some whispered by-play in the camp that had confused her at the time is explained. As does what she had thought was trust she had earned herself. Eula is startled by how very hurt she feels. "You mean to say you didn't trust me to handle them myself? I'll make you pay for that interference!"

"What? No!" Jean flinches and raises a hand. "This wasn't a matter of trust in *you*, Sir Eula. I expected you to do an excellent job, and it's clear that you did. I was simply trying to keep you from being undercut by insubordination."

The hurt still sits heavy in Eula's breast and pricks at her eyes, but she blinks fiercely, unwilling to let it show. "I knew that not all of my knights would be happy to be commanded by a Lawrence," she says, letting her voice go crisp and cold to keep anything else from showing. "I had intended to prove myself to them by my performance. If you did not trust me to do that, you shouldn't have backed the Grand Master about making me Reconnaissance Captain. Not undercut me *yourself* by stacking the deck."

"I-" Jean's eyes are shining with more than anxiety, Eula realizes, though she blinks just as hard as Eula had to press the tears back, and swallows hard before she speaks. Her voice comes out calm and composed in a way that Eula can recognize all too well. "I am so terribly sorry to have done that to you. I only wished to help you, but I can see how it would offend you not to be allowed to succeed on your own merits."

A sincere apology should be accepted, and Eula has no question that this one is sincere. "I guess it is your duty as Master of the Knights to ensure that missions run smoothly. I'll save my payback for another time."

"I am sorry," Jean repeats, as if Eula's words haven't registered. "It was inexcusable of me. You are working so hard to redeem your family's name, and I should have respected that instead of trying to interfere."

Guilt at her own outburst softens some of Eula's ire. "Don't apologize for doing your duty."

"It isn't truly my duty, though. The Master of the Knights is only supposed to handle discipline within a company when a captain requests it, or if they're unable to maintain it themselves. You're more than capable of that. I simply... I admire what you're doing, and I didn't wish for your own knights to be as cruel to you as I know some in the Ordo have been. But meddling with your company wasn't appropriate, whatever my reasons."

Eula goes still, taking a moment to absorb that. Her first instinct is to reject it as pity--but it isn't, not when the truth of Jean's admiration is right there in those too-sincere eyes. She wants to accomplish her goals on her own merits, but it's unkind to castigate Jean for making a genuine attempt to support her. Especially when Jean looks so uncertain. Not at all the calm, polished figure she cuts when handling affairs in public.

She isn't in public now. Eula looks again, more critically, at the tea set and desk before her, reading the lay of the land as she should have when she first came in. Paperwork has been piled away in the corner, there's a little plate of sweets off to one side, and the tea set is just a little worn, the lid of the pot chipped, suggesting that this is a personally beloved set rather than one put out for formal show. And Jean had called her 'Sir Eula' even when first greeting her, not the more formal 'Captain.'

Now Eula is almost embarrassed to have reacted so impulsively. Sympathetic, at least, and the indignation fades away as she looks at Jean sitting just as tall as she is, back just as straight and stiff, holding onto her composure with the same amount of effort. She's no untrusting superior, as certain of her own competence and judgment as everyone around her. She looks, for once, just as out of her depth as Eula sometimes secretly feels.

Everyone looks at Eula and expects the worst cruelty and depravity that the Lawrence name calls to mind. It occurs to her only now that those same people are looking at Jean and expecting the righteousness and justice that the Gunnhildr name calls to mind, as well. Even Eula herself has been doing it.

If Jean is willing to overlook Eula's name and treat her as a knight in need of support... Eula's dignity demands that she do the same.

"So long as you don't do it again, I'm willing to put the matter behind us," she tells Jean. "But I still have no choice but to pay you back for your condescension. Next time we meet, *I'll* brew the tea, and I'll be able to tell you how well my company has performed under my command, without your interference."

Jean is too well-mannered to sigh aloud, but her next breath is long, if quiet, and the smile she gives Eula is bright with relief as well as pleasure. "I look forward to it."

Eula raises her teacup to her mouth to hide the small smile that tries to slip out in response. She thinks, from the way Jean's expression softens, that Jean sees it anyway. Eula decides that she doesn't mind.

---

3.

"I cannot give up," Jean says, low and grim and breathless, quiet in the still night air behind the Ordo.

She shouldn't be here. Not at this hour, and certainly not after they day they've all had. Neither should Eula, but her company has spent the last month stalking evildoers through the dark, and she can't sleep easily at an hour she's been so long awake. Jean, though, has express instructions from the Deaconess to stay in bed, healing, for at least the next day.

Creeping silently closer is, likewise, something Eula will attribute to the habits of the past month. She certainly has no intention of *ambushing* the Acting Grand Master. But if she's to share the training ring, shouldn't she determine the circumstances beforehand?

Jean is going through the steps of her attack sequence, each swing and thrust and footfall so familiar that Eula could close her eyes and still follow it in her mind. It derives from the same ancient base as Eula's own bladework, even if the particulars of how it's delivered differ--aside from the differing weight of their chosen weapons, the Lawrences have woven it together with their customary training in dance, while the Gunnhildrs have put all of the art in it aside in favor of efficiency of movement.

This sequence, though, doesn't quite match the well-memorized one in Eula's mind. Jean is trying to shift something about the last movement, the lunging swing that flings lighter enemies away. Less force in the lunge, and the sword low, instead of high; the movement should catch the foe's feet, if they have any. Eula can guess that the intent is to trip them without flinging them forward. Something that would have helped today, when Jean had flung the chief of the Treasure Hoarders they were fighting off a cliff and inadvertently enabled his escape through a secret tunnel they'd only later found at its base.

The premise makes sense, but Jean can't apply the weight of the movement in the way that she wants. Her sword isn't long or heavy enough. It doesn't fit in with the sequence in any case; she makes the low swing again, tries to bring it up into her traditional ending stance, and nearly catches herself in the face with it.

Eula waits until she's recovered to step out of the shadows and into the ring. "Acting Grand Master," she says, giving Jean the appropriate salute.

"Eula?" Jean jumps, which is another sign that she's overtired. "Of course it's you. Are you here to train? There's room enough for us both, though I'm afraid I cannot spar tonight. I have my own drills to do."

"I saw as much."

"You did?" Jean's cheeks color.

"Your blade isn't heavy enough for that kind of low sweep," Eula tells her. "You need either force, as from a greatsword, or leverage, as from a polearm."

"I know. But... I must find some way of disabling opponents even when the terrain is not ideal. We spent hours more than we should have, and far too many Ordo resources, finding that Treasure Hoarder again. I am grateful for the help of the Reconnaissance Company in that effort," she adds quickly, though Eula hadn't thought of taking offense. "But it was because of my error that you had to call them out to help us, when they should have been resting after your mission."

"He would have tried to escape down tunnel regardless," Eula told her. "He was already making for the edge of that cliff when you caught up with him. If it had been anyone else, I'm sure he would have jumped off instead. You might as well blame the Reconnaissance Company for not having caught the tunnel the last time we scouted the area."

"I wouldn't do that!"

"Then how are you any more at fault for not having information we didn't give you than we are for not finding it?"

Eula frowns at Jean, drawing herself up to her full height to better look down at her. Not that it does much good without higher ground; Jean is that one half-inch higher, and she straightens, too, in response to that frown. Her eyes are wide, glimmering greyish-pale in the moonlight, and her face is drawn with exhaustion and an anxiety that Eula doubts she would let anyone else see.

"As the Acting Grand Master, all operations of the Knights are my responsibility," she says quietly. "And any that I involve myself in personally are even more so. I *must* perform to the best of my abilities, at all times. And if my best isn't sufficient, then my only choice is to improve. You understand."

She looks at Eula, wide-eyed in silent plea. Eula can hear what Jean doesn't say aloud, beneath the talk of being Acting Grand Master. No one would expect even a Grand Master to be always perfect, to be always ready, to never fail--but that *is* the burden of an aristocrat. A Lawrence must drive herself onward to perfect her dance even when her feet bleed; a Gunnhildr must drive herself onward to perfect her swordplay even when her breath goes unsteady and her face pale. Their upbringing allows them both no less.

Her chest aches. A name is a heavy burden, and one that neither of them can set down. It's far more painful to see how Jean stumbles under the weight of hers, though, unchosen duty as it is, than it is to feel the weight of her own on her shoulders when she knows she could at any point set it down and wash her hands of her unredeemed kin.

"I understand," Eula tells her. She reaches for the hilt of her blade and pulls it free. "But I won't accept the insult of refusing to spar. You *will* accept my challenge."

"Eula, I must-" Jean begins to protest, then pauses, giving her a faint, weary smile. "Of course I will. What are the terms?"

"If you dare to defeat me, I'll train with you for an hour in the greatsword, so that you can try such a sweep with a weapon suited to it. But when I defeat you-" a veritable certainty, with the state Jean is already in "-you will permit me to escort you to your rooms, where I will see you to bed with whatever potions the Deaconess and our Librarian have left you."

"That isn't necessary."

"Of course it is. How am I meant to fulfill my vengeance upon the Knights if the Acting Grand Master is ill from exhaustion? There's no triumph in defeating my ancient enemy if she refuses to meet me at her best."

"...Very well," Jean says, but the smile lingering on her face belies her sigh. "I will accept your terms."

Jean takes a ready stance, and Eula falls into her own. They both bow, and then, as they straighten, Eula rushes in to make her first attack. Jean's eyes go wide, and she falls back, startled; she's tired indeed not to have caught the signs that Eula meant to go immediately on the offense. This isn't a terrible position for her, as she fights far better on the defense than Eula does. But Eula can see the holes in her guard by the second parry.

She telegraphs her third attack as normal just to be certain that those holes aren't a feint, and sees Jean's arms shaking far more than the effort of turning her blade aside requires. Then she spins about on her toes, comes in low, and sees Jean react sluggishly, stumbling back, gripping her sword far too tightly when she raises it to parry the follow-up. It flies from her hand when Eula puts the full force of her motion behind the strike.

Eula pulls the blow before it can carry on into Jean's flesh, spinning away and letting the weight of it drive her through a complete spin before the point comes to rest on the stone between them. She looks at Jean, grey-faced now and panting from even that small exertion, her sword not yet recovered.

"I think we can call that my victory," she declares, sheathing her blade, and then rushes forward to catch Jean with a hand on her arm as Jean tries to bend to retrieve her sword and wobbles alarmingly. "Which means that *you* must pay the forfeit we agreed."

"I did agree," Jean says, straightening slowly and sheathing her blade with trembling fingers.

She sounds rueful, but Eula feels her shoulders sag with secret relief. Eula shifts her grip to take a bit more of her weight.

"As I still find myself more awake in the evenings," Eula tells her, as she begins to conduct Jean into the building and up the stairs towards the officers' apartments, "I will be training tomorrow evening after moonrise. If you join me then, I'll condescend to give you a rematch. On the same terms. If you've recovered enough to defeat me, you'll have my help in training."

"Thank you, Eula," Jean says. Her smile is still weary, but the gratitude in it is, as always, sincere, and so is the quiet warmth that warms Eula's breast in turn. "I look forward to it."

Eula shifts her grip again, an arm around Jean's shoulders as they step into Jean's rooms. "*If* you've recovered enough to defeat me. I'll have to see you all the way into bed to ensure that you're well-rested enough to give me a satisfying fight."

This time, Jean doesn't tell her that isn't necessary. She only leans into Eula's arm. "Of course. I wouldn't want to disappoint."

"No, you wouldn't." Eula doesn't bother to tell her that she never does. False reassurances won't satisfy either of them. Only meeting their own standards will, and upholding the honor of their names. Jean respects her drive to do so; the least she can do is respect Jean's in turn.

And if she steals the chance to support Jean in that, now and then, well, it's only fair payback for all the times that Jean has done the same for her. Eula looks down at Jean's tired smile, soft and fond around the edges, and doesn't try to hide the smile arising in return.

[piganatur]

THE EIGHTH SENSE EP 2

I have to start with the scenes after the intro. In the first ep Jaewon sat with his back to the fish tank

this shot feels so oppressive. First, the focus is on the fish swimming in the tank, then it shifts to the therapist lady meanwhile Jaewon remains out of focus with his back to the viewer, blocked in by both sides. The lights in this shot are insane, it’s like the different sides of a coin.

Fast forward to the second ep

Now Jaewon faces the camera but he won’t look up and he is shown through the fish tank. It’s like he’s in the deep now, up until the moment he stands and leaves, kind of scaring the fishes that scatter for a moment. Once again, note the reflection of the lights.

Episode two is just as solid as the first one. Finally a drama where the extreme close ups are incorporated into the story for a reason and not just to be aesthetic (which ofc they still are) (I’m totally not side eyeing Nevertheless,) Could the shower scene be that insane without the extreme close ups? Nope.

There’s so much to unpack here. Like Jaewon being so soft around Jihuyn. I mean it only took them one (1) bus ride to the sea to act like bffs yet the moment Jihyun wakes up Jaewon has the nerve to pretend he doesn’t know what his name is and ask him again….boy you’re such an unbothered chill sunbae *cackles* Never have I witnessed such a tragedy going down over the assignment of rooms. The sheer disappointment of not sharing a room with the freshman you’ve only just (presumably) learned the name of... Jaewon really had to pause like that before (and after) reading Jihyun’s name, huh? pls chill

Can we take a hot second to appreciate that in Free Bird’s promo shots and posters (so in the past when Eunji and Jaewon were presumably together) Eunji is always seen wearing a blue wetsuit while Jaewon wears black. And when Jaewon takes Jihyun to the shop, he deliberately chooses two identical black wetsuits for them so they would have that couple look match. Aaand Eunji also wears a black wetsuit now (trying to match with Jaewon) but it’s one she chooses herself not like the one Jihyun wears that Jaewon chose for him.

I’m completely normal about the dressing scene just like I was completely normal about the phone strapping scene in The crossing. (Although I have to mention that Jaewon is still so soft around Jihyun it kinda hurts, all heart eyed and shit)

Jaewon taking care of Jihyun, telling him he must be cold so warm up like Jaewon himself wasn’t in the same sea and couldn’t possibly feel cold. At this point, he’s still taking care of Jihyun like a good sunbae but he’s doing all that multiplied by 10000. He’s running the extra mile every given time and I’m not sure he’s even aware of it. Sometimes it’s a conscious decision but other times it’s just his curiosity and attraction to Jihyun. Like when they play the ‘I like you’ drinking game, Jaewon stops clapping the second he utters Jihyun’s name. Unlike the others, he doesn’t stop because Jihyun won’t continue the line and the game stalls, he turns to Jihyun, waiting for his reaction and his system crashes. It crashes a lot around Jihyun.

Jihyun is such a complex little bean, not enough people talk about him. He says he’s afraid of a lot of things but that never stops him. When he talked with his boss about the places people coming to live in Seoul visit he said he only went to the Gangnam station area once. His boss lady asked 'Have you ever gone on subway line 2?' and Jihyun said he didn’t. They talked about the Han river parks and the next time Jihyun visited a park by taking subway line 2.

He joins the surf club even though his roommate and hometown friend can’t understand his reasons for joining (and, even though he can’t swim which made me go BOI the things you do for a hot dude) Although he acts like he wants to spend time away his roommate and messes up by visiting the Han river park an hour away from their university, he still calls his roommate, sends a text to his mum, keeping in touch with the familiar people in his life. He also does that on the beach like an anchor in times he’s in need not to feel scared and that’s so precious. He does things his own way, going through the process of trial and error, constantly trying not to be scared.

I’m still loving Yoonwon to bits. Besides Jaewon, she’s the only member of the club genuinely happy that kwiyomi has joined. She welcomes him and keeps being nice to him. Her singing at the bonfire healed my soul and I don’t even like singing in films but she’s magical.

Yo, the confrontation scene between Eunji and Jaewon? The fact that after Jaewon tells her he has zero feelings for her (neither good nor bad) a club member comes out and passes between them saying 'It’s cold, so cold'. That’s how you put down the groundwork for a scene. I think Eunji is so pissed because she knows something’s up. But then Jaewon says 'Let’s give each other that basic courtesy.' He means it both ways. He won’t tell others about why they broke up (from an outside perspective, it would be Eunji’s fault). In turn, Eunji should back off and not question the inner workings behind their breakup. But then she does, and Jaewon literally logs out of that conversation, and it is ridiculously in-your-face. He rather chooses to go to Jihyun than speak with his ex for another second. In that scene, before Eunji leaves, her looking at Jaewon looking at Jihyun is so powerful. Her eyes tell that she knows.

I’m having such a ride. Can’t wait for next week.