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#and then never show him again in the remaining episodes??
neo--queen--serenity · 21 hours
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This episode really highlighted how close Marcille, Laios, and Chilchuck actually are.
The viewer is used to seeing our main characters behave like coworkers up to this point—even friends—and they express normal, understandable levels of concern and fear when their other party members are in danger. But when the nightmare attacked Marcille, it brought out sides of Laios and Chilchuck that the viewer hadn’t seen before.
Laios immediately notices when something is wrong with Marcille, and he tells the others as soon as he’s sure of the problem. Chilchuck and Senshi then follow Laios’ lead as it becomes clear that he intends to make her get some rest.
We see Chilchuck’s hands lay out the bedroll and Senshi’s hands set up the pillow, working in almost perfect tandem as Laios physically wrangles Marcille into bed.
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Senshi is in a similar perspective as the viewer, and mostly sits and watches the ordeal unfold. He doesn’t have a shared history, like these three do, so he helps in little ways, but mostly waits on standby for direction.
From here on out, it’s mostly Laios and Chilchuck who take over in planning how to help her.
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It’s uncommon for Chilchuck to openly show such distress and worry for one of his party members. He’s used to Marcille being able to defend herself; he’s used to her being capable and strong. He immediately defers to Laios for instruction, (rightly) assuming he will know what to do.
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This actually produces a reaction close to real fear from Chilchuck, who outright SMACKS her in a panic to wake her up before getting any further information.
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Laios has to quickly stop him, explaining that he could truly hurt her if he interrupts the attack this way. He tells them how he’s going to wake her, and he doesn’t hesitate. He jumps straight in, explaining what he’s doing for the others so that they (Chilchuck) won’t be afraid.
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Chilchuck doesn’t question him once. He just does what he can to hurry along the process. He tucks Laios in with his blanket as soon as he lays onto Marcille—an unnecessary action that betrays how much he cares for both of them.
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And Laios succeeds in helping Marcille out of the nightmare’s grasp. While trapped in her mind, he reassures her, protects her, tells her how much she’s valued and appreciated. He isn’t embarrassed or sheepish about it, either; he openly declares these things like it’s the most normal and obvious thing in the world.
He gets her out, he saves her. He did the exact thing he set out to do, even though he’d never done it before, and only had Falin’s secondhand information to work with.
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Once he wakes, Chilchuck immediately checks on him to see if he’s alright. Chilchuck is clearly still rattled, displeased with having to wait while both of his close friends were unconscious, fighting a battle neither he nor Senshi could see or help with.
Marcille wakes up shortly after Laios, but Chilchuck is still on edge, worrying that she’ll fall back asleep. Laios, too, has a moment of alarm when he makes sure she won’t close her eyes again.
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Once he takes the subdued nightmares out of Marcille’s pillow, only then do Laios and Chilchuck relax.
Laios, for his part, remained calm and collected almost the entire time. He did not show panic or fear when it became clear that Marcille was being attacked, nor when he told the rest of the party what he’d be doing to help her. And once the nightmares had been collected from her bedroll, he gently explained what happened, to everyone else’s horror.
Seeing this, it’s not a huge surprise that the Touden party is so successful. We’ve seen Laios handle danger with a level head; we know he’s capable.
But it’s an entirely different kind of talent to face a threat that’s targeting one of your closest friends—which can make even the most competent fighter sloppy out of fear of losing them—one that requires a high-risk, specific rescue style that none of you have ever tried before. And then pull it off flawlessly. Like damn, these guys are lucky to have him.
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llycaons · 8 months
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im finally feeling awake now so @pharahsgf this is the post I was talking about
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foolish. reductive. immature. disrespectful. willfully ignorant. WRONG
#I have had this person blocked ever since they said they were into xi//cheng#but I wish I could block them again just for this. it's so stupid and indicitive of all the most annoying misconceptions#first of all pretending that jc and wwx are still at the same emotional and social and moral level postres#when jc not changing/remaining static is one of THE most important part of his charact#and wwx changing and developing and growing up is so significant esp postres when he's wiser and quieter and more mature#even in the flashback arcs he doesn't dwell on his torture of the wens he doesn't 'love it' he doesn't brag about it#he doesn't ever WANT to do it again he clearly just wants to put it behind him#he's done bad things in the past and he wants ppl like xy to pay but that doesn't mean he endorses torture#AND it brings in the fiction that wwx is or needs to be protective of jc when postres he's the one who needs protection FROM jc#like yeah im sure after the verbal assaults and the triggering of his phobia and the physical attacks#he's just rushing to throw himself in front of jc to protect him from dcs#it just plays into jc stans' misconceptions that wwx is happy to sacrifice everything for jc and always will and therefore SHOULD#because ohh everything is about jc and everyone loves him. literally not true to any version of canon#I don't even think the torture dungeon has enough evidence to really consider in the novel and its not even mentioned in the show#but his unilateral violence towards people he suspects of being DCs is visible in literally the second episode#and idk why wwx would just start to 'love' that violence and aggression when it was once pointed at him#especially when he has the option to instead spend time with people who have never tortured anyone suspected of doing some vague bad thing#okay I'm done! I'm done. this got me soo mad though what a stupid fucking post#cql txp
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krossan · 4 months
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A Brief AU Explanation
I noticed that there are a lot of new followers that do know Danny Phantom, and others that the know very little. I am also aware that I haven't fully explained - maybe NOT in too much detail - the "story" and plots of my AU. You only have the ideas that I've been telling of this story through illustrations.
This AU is all about reconnecting with one self, with Jazz and Dan as the main two of this particular game.
Jazz remains as the same character that is portrayed through the OG show. She has always been the psychology enthusiast of the group, the one that cares for others and help with whatever she can. For her, others come first. First being her family.
On the other hand, we have Dan, an alternate entity of Danny’s ghost half and Vlad’s. A new form of entity that lost his humanity. For him to show any form of emotion is null.
Jazz involvement in this has to do with her putting everyone else first and then herself, and being keen to the study of the human-psyche, and now ghost-psyche, she secretly partakes to the role of Dan’s therapist. This was kept in secret from the rest of her friends and Danny until she can gain more control over Dan.
This, of course, prove to be a VERY difficult task. With her having to hide her constant fears when facing that “particular someone”: he could go on a rampage, have uncontrollable outbursts, cause havoc, and that he could turn against her any day/time without any remorse. She knows this, but she also knows that deep down, her little brother is still there. She’s looking to rekindle that part of him again. Of course, never knowing at what extent this could go.
And this, apparently started to bear fruit, although at a slow pace. As Jazz stood closer and closer to him, she understood that he stayed alone his entire life, and after losing everyone he cared, his violent actions were his significance of showing the world "hurting". The hurt he have been caring so many years. Now he has that second chance. To “live” a new life and Jazz wants to help him out.
With this new information, each time Jazz got close to him, Dan, instead of seeing her as an obnoxious-human-parasite, he slowly starts bonding with her. His interest increasing each day he is with her and grows more comfortable being around her (something Dan originally despised).
***
Part of this AU, enrolls on a particular context that the ghost of a halfa is sentient. The original show as proven this*. When Danny’s ghost has been separated, his ghost has a mind of his own, but when staying together, human-ghost, the consciousness of the halfa acts as one. *Episodes in question: What You Want, Identity Crisis, The Ultimate Enemy
This part that the ghost plays on the known halfas is a mayor plot point from this AU. Let me explain my concept briefly:
This roll that the ghost is part of the halfa is the one that caries the power of the wielder (human). The human can transform into the ghost and vice versa. The ghost powers remain within the ghost half. The human half acts as a vessel/host to the ghost half.
All living things have the instinct of survival. And on this case, the ghosts would do ANYTHING to keep their host safe as they are the means of a linked connection human-ghost. Not unlike the rest of non-halfa- ghosts that their link/host relies on the Ghost Zone -since they no longer have a corporeal body, the vessel for their survival is ectoplasmic energy, the one that emanates from the GZ.
***
Since Dan is no longer connected to a human, he became a full-ghost. An entity that merged from two ghost halfas. He can sustain himself alone, but strangely enough, he building a bond with Jazz, it rekindled what Jazz intended, but in an unusual way. Jazz intention was to try and reconnect Dan with his long-lost humanity. Even if he didn’t have a human half, both his ghosts may have some little information stored deep within of what that used to feel like. And even though that started to give results, the ghost also retained that of his original purpose: Protect the host.
And as the bond Dan and Jazz grew more and more, unknown to them, it caused a physical manifestation: a white streak formed in Jazz’s hair. And even if this came up as a surprise to Jazz, she later discovered that this manifestation was much more than just physical.
Dan rekindled his humanity but he, unknowingly, intertwined Jasmine’s humanity to his. Her humanity is part of him. Jasmine’s emotions have an impact on him. Whatever she feels, he can sense it, let them be good or bad ones.
They both are this new form of halfa, both human and ghost are separate life forms, but from the ghost side -Dan’s perspective- Jazz is acting as his human half. His host. That’s is why his instincts respond to protect her at all costs.
No. This new form of a halfa representation doesn't mean Jazz has ghost powers. The one with that power is Dan. This bond is more of a psychic link.
 (i.e. In European folklore, you “could” say Dan is Jasmine’s "familiar", although Jazz is not considered to be a witch, but imagine the possibilities of this small plot causing people or ghosts to think Jazz is a witch… idk… random ideas)
This is why Dan is more sympathetic towards Jazz and why their bond is very important.
______________
It's worth pointing out that I don't have a specific name for this AU, like many people do when they create these stories. And NO. Please refrain from saying this is a romantic relationship. It is a sibling/platonic relationship.
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mizading · 7 months
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Please could we get jealous/possessive headcanons for gojo geto and nanami <333
JJK Jealousy/Possessive Headcanons
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{ Characters} Nanami, Gojo, Geto, Choso
{ Warnings } Possessive behavior, jealousy, yelling, needy behavior, etc. 
{ A/N } I usually don’t accept anonymous requests, but I decided to make an exception this time (wink). I couldn’t help but include Choso after last week’s episode. 
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Nanami
Nanami won’t reveal any type of emotion until you two get home. He’s so used to remaining professional that hiding his feelings aren’t a task anymore.
Nanami is a reserved man; he would never let his jealousy show in public.
The most that Nanami will do is snake is arm around your waist. It looks innocent enough, but nobody can feel how tight his fingers grip your waist.
This is your only warning. Whatever it is that you’re doing to upset Nanami, stop.
Don’t expect Nanami to speak to you once you get home. Ignoring you is Nanami’s only way of keeping himself from lashing out.
Nanami sometimes doesn’t have the strength to simply ignore you, resulting in him lashing out. You can’t take him seriously when he looks so damn good frustrated and yelling.
The way that his dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows with a few buttons opened and his tie loosened drives you crazy. Seeing him in such a state makes you not want to talk to another man again.
It doesn’t take long for Nanami to calm down. He’ll eventually break down and embrace you, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. Skin-to-skin contact with you seems to calm his nerves and remind him that you’re all his.
Nanami will always apologize profusely for yelling at you. He genuinely hates it when he gets that worked up, but he can’t control it sometimes. Everything will be made up in whatever way you'd like.
If you name it, he’ll do it. Nanami is practically on his knees for you at all times. His world revolves around you; it’s only fair that he shows it.
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Gojo
Gojo gets jealous extremely easily, and he knows it. Gojo won’t ever admit that it’s a problem, though; it’s his way of showing that he cares, after all.
Almost everything that involves another guy sets Gojo off. Conversations, stares, touches—all of it makes his blood boil. He doesn’t bother hiding any of it either.
Gojo takes joy in scaring guys off when he’s around with you. One look from Gojo’s icy blue eyes is more than enough to send any man into their grave.
The only time interactions with other males are somewhat acceptable is when Gojo is with you to “monitor” the situation. Let's not include Gojo feeling you up the entire time.
Gojo trusts you with his entire being; he just won't let anyone mess with what's his. You belong to Gojo, and Gojo only.
Gojo made it known to everyone that you’re his property. He doesn’t mean to be so possessive; he just can’t help it. The consequence for messing with what's his has also been made crystal clear.
Gojo sometimes fantasizes about him being the only man that you interact with, but he would never make that a reality. He still has some type of self-control. Don’t test Gojo, though; he’s quick to change his mind.
Arguments with Gojo really only happen because he can’t seem to control his jealousy issues. In the end, he always ends up in your arms, apologizing over and over again for raising his voice at you.
Gojo won’t control what you wear, but he’ll whine endlessly to hopefully change your mind. If you ultimately end up doing what you want, he’ll keep you awfully close while you two are out. Don’t get me wrong, he loves seeing you in your short skirts and tight tops, but he wants to be the only one to see. 
It’s all out of love, Gojo promises. Over time, he’ll work on it. Gojo knows that you’ll always be his.
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Geto
Geto is quick to put an end to any unnecessary contact with another man other than him.
It’s no surprise when Geto pulls you away mid-conversation with an old friend of yours. Complaints won’t do much; if he doesn’t want you talking to someone, you won’t.
Geto doesn’t really get upset with you when he’s jealous because he takes control of the situation before his feelings can progress. It’s for your own good. Geto pissed off is a scary sight.
Geto is used to having full control over everything; I mean, he runs an entire cult. This includes you; he tends to believe that he has full control over you. It’s not on purpose, just instinct.
His control over you is mainly for your safety. Geto’s lifestyle isn’t safe, and he knows. He’d rather die than have anything happen to you, no matter how big or small.
Geto is very possessive and overprotective because of this. You belong to him completely, and nobody can get to you unless he allows it.
You mainly put up with his possessive behavior because Geto is honestly all you can ask for in a man and more. He’d do absolutely anything for you, and it’s more than the truth.
Geto won’t tell you that he was jealous until it’s just the two of you in bed. Something about snuggling up with you under the covers in a quiet environment makes him want to confess everything.
He tends to become softer at night. It’s not uncommon for Geto to ask if you still love him or why you fell in love with him in the first place. No matter how tough his demeanor is on the outside, he’ll always be a softy for you.
Geto may or may not apologize verbally for his behavior; it depends on how sensitive he is that day. If Geto doesn’t outright apologize, he’ll do it in other ways, such as buying you a gift, giving you extra affection, or taking you out.
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Choso
Choso is really needy and clingy when he's jealous. You’re the only one to see Choso in this state, begging to give and receive love.
Choso can’t help but feel self-conscious when you talk to or touch other men. Is he not enough?
He won’t directly tell you that he’s jealous most of the time, but you can tell by the way he snuggles his body into yours with little whines.
Please don’t ask Choso what's wrong; he’ll immediately start sobbing. Through choked sobs, he’ll admit that he doesn’t like the way that you talk to guys other than him.
Jealousy frustrates Choso to no end because he doesn’t necessarily know what the feeling is. All Choso knows is that he only gets it when you pay more attention to other people, especially guys.
Calming Choso down once he’s a sobbing mess in your arms is a task. No matter what you say or do, he’ll continue crying out his emotions for at least ten minutes.
The best thing that you can do is hold Choso and remind him that he’s the only one for you. Once he’s calmed down, Choso becomes overbearingly sweet and cuddly.
Endless kisses and snuggles from Choso are coming your way. Good luck trying to get him to stop (he won’t). It’s his way of self-soothing and reminding himself that you’re all his. Knowing that he’s the only one able to kiss and touch you warms his heart again.
As if his unnecessary affection wasn’t enough, he wants you to return the love. Choso will beg and beg for kisses and touches. Refusing to give affection will bring him to tears again.
After Choso’s received his fill of love and affection, all he wants is to cuddle until he falls asleep. If you hold his body close and play with his hair, he’ll instantly fall asleep with tears of joy. Choso loves you so much it hurts; he just wants to be your only one.
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dragonmuse · 7 months
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Keep It In The Box : An Essay on OFMD Season 2 and the Failure to Heal
(here in is my season two reaction. It contains many many spoilers. It's also about 3k words long so you know what you're getting into.)
“See, I have a system for dealing with all the terrible things I've seen. There's a box in my mind, and I put the things in the box..” -Frenchie, Season 2 of Our Flag Means Death
…..and then he never opens it. Chekov’s locked box has no key in season two.
On first watch, it seemed clear to me that Frenchie’s declaration was a narrative plant. Clearly the whole season would be about that box of pain and trauma being opened, sorted through and at least the beginning of healing. The show had developed a reputation after season one of being kind and focused on queer narratives of healing from childhood. Ed and Stede’s parallels in their childhood traumas were frequently on display through season one and were repeated in flashback throughout season two. Jim’s season one arc about becoming someone who doesn’t think just of revenge and can now forge meaningful connections was profound, beautiful and often funny. Izzy is an antagonist because he doesn’t want Ed to move on or stop acting like the trauma-response version of himself. The antagonist wants to stop healing. The point is to grow, to change, to learn how to love. It’s one of the things that made season one work for me at the time, despite reservations about pacing and tone.
So naturally season two should follow suit. It’s a kind show! About healing and falling in love!
For the first several episodes, the remaining crew on the Revenge go through a gauntlet of trauma, forced to do and receive violence at Ed’s whims as he careens from self-destructive behavior to self-destructive behavior. This is the wounding setup. It was dark, but it seemed like it would have a payoff and at first it did.
Perhaps one of the most beautiful moments of the season comes in one of the small respites in those early episodes as Jim recounts Pinnochio to Fang to soothe him through his grief. That was the show that I expected. The kindness of that moment struck me very deeply. It gave me some understanding of Archie too, who seems to fall for Jim right at that moment.
That scene is the show season one promised. Season two led with packing Frenchie’s box full to bursting. Here is the fight to the death between lovers, there is a first mate who is mutilated and rotting in the very walls (the rot of the Revenge itself), and there is the storm of Ed’s rage and pain that threatens to consume all of them.
So surely these remaining episodes would concentrate on finding the humor in healing from those moments. That is the setup. Frenchie has a box. The box must eventually open.
Except time and again, all the characters who suffered are told that the only way to deal with what they’ve been through is to stick it in the box and never open it again.
Pete tells Lucius that he’s unable to move on and needs to let it go. Izzy has a story about a shark. Ed’s apology to the crew which doesn’t even contain the words ‘I’m sorry’ is just…accepted. I kept waiting and waiting for a meaningful apology to the people Ed had hurt the worst with his actions, but it seems all we get is Fang saying ‘eh, no problem, I got to hit you back so I feel better’.
The playful theme of ‘pirates are just violent sometimes’ from season one becomes a grinding horror machine in season two when every atrocity visited on someone is forgiven because the narrative needs it to be. Ed and Stede spend more time making amends with each other over the bloodless night on the beach than either of them spend trying to repent for their actions towards anyone else.
And let’s talk about Ed. Arguably this season pivots on his narrative, on his path to healing and growth. A path that starts at a very low point. His moment in the gravy basket, deciding he wants to live because there are still things to live for is so great! So one might assume that what would follow would be him pursuing those things, making amends, making connections. He and Stede have a wonderful moment, talking about being whim prone and how they’ll work to avoid that, build a relationship by going slower.
Yet, at no point do either of them stop following whims. They never heal or learn from what’s happened to them. They both keep running from thing to thing, particularly Ed. It’s a whim to sleep with Stede, it’s a whim to run off to fish, and the finale gives us just more of their whims. Ed drops fishing as fast as he picked it up. He finds those leathers in the ocean, murdering the symbolism of leaving them behind. Even the inn is a whim, one of those things Ed decided he’d be good at without evidence. And Stede joins him in that without a single on screen conversation about it ahead of the moment.
Ed needs to heal himself and to do that he needs to confront what he’s done and do the work to heal the wound. Instead, he doesn’t meaningfully apologize to anyone, besides Stede and Fang. Despite Izzy’s dying words (we’ll get to that), not only do we never see the crew caring about Ed, working to make him family in the same way they do with Fang and even Izzy, he also doesn’t choose to stay with them. So what is the point? Where is the healing? Or does even Ed, beloved main character, have to live with it all stuffed in a box?
He ends the season in the leathers he threw away, in a relationship that’s barely stabilized, going to live in a house which we are told by the narrative (in that they are very very clearly paralleling Anne and Mary with Ed and Stede or why do we even get that whole Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? episode) will only end in them setting fire to each other to stay warm.
But Vee, I hear you cry, it’s a ROM-COM. This is all meant to be ha-ha funny and you are taking it so seriously!
Cool beans. Then why the hell isn’t it funny? Healing is often filled with comedy because people deal with pain with humor. You can heal and laugh at the same time. The finale especially is almost entirely devoid of laughs, almost entirely devoid of joy until the last minute for that matter. The episode that should show off with a flourish how far everyone’s come, mostly serves to show that no one has grown.
Okay that’s Ed. I want to talk about Lucius next. Our former audience surrogate (that’s taken away in season two when he doesn’t get enough screen time to perform that role and no one takes his place) really goes through the wringer. He experiences many many terrible things, including sexual assault (which is made into a grimace-laugh line that doesn’t take away from it’s seriousness because oh hey, that can be done as it turns out). He’s nervous, he’s smoking, it’s clear he’s suffering.
There’s a beautiful moment where Pete tells him ‘hey, I was also in pain. I grieved’ and that’s great. It’s good that Pete sets a boundary about Lucius not obsessing over the past to the point of occluding their future.
We even get our comedic moment where Lucius pushes Ed off the boat (still not apology, but I’d lost hope for that by then) and that doesn’t help enough. So Izzy comes in with a shark and the advice that you just have to move on.
Just…you know. Play pretend. Forget.
Shove it in a box. Ed didn’t take my leg, a shark did. Ed didn’t kill you, a shark did. Live with the person that tried to murder you because it’s your fault you dangled your leg over the side of a boat. That is the show’s message. I thought on first watch, that surely this would also come back up and be explained that you can’t live that way, that that is no way to heal. That it would become clear that this was no way through. You cannot make everything into sharks.
Lucius can move forward and still carry pain. He can still want a meaningful apology and still want to talk to his lover about what he’s dealing with while moving forward toward a brighter future.
And what of the flirtatious promise of relationships and connections being the way to heal? Look to Oluwande and Jim, whose heartfelt romance from season one was relegated to the bins of history in favor of a narrative that made him a brother Jim once had sex with. They could have had Archie AND Oluwande, who in turn could also have Zheng, but that never seems to be an option. With a single short conversation, they are broken up with, despite a brief tease at the birthday that they still ‘dance’ together, it never actually manifests. Jim and Archie never talk about what they went through. It’s swept under the rug as fast as knives are lowered.
Lucius also no longer flirts with other people, the solution to his pain is to propose and get married (but not too married, lest we forget that they’re two men, they don’t even get to be husbands or even the more respectful mates, no. They’re mateys.) This season proposes that the only happy endings are monogamous ones, where no one talks about anything painful that went before.
To ensure that message, beyond assuring the success of Oluwande and Zheng’s relationship, Jim and Archie almost entirely disappear from the narrative. Sorry you guys were given layers of trauma and no growth and not even much to do this season, we need to make sure that everyone remembers Oluwande is the break in Zheng’s day so when he says that to her five minutes later we know exactly what he’s referencing. No time for Archie to learn what an apology is or for Jim to get one line in with Oluwande that isn’t affirming their newfound broship. Must do more flashbacks to things we just did two episodes ago!
The show even dangles the conversation of the Revenge being a safe space. Why would any of them ever feel safe when the man who tortured them is allowed to walk among them and they are expected to forgive and forget? What’s safe about that? The ship is never made safe for any of them, but that’s never addressed.
And Zheng! Amazing, hysterically funny Zheng! She loses her ships, her entire way of life, the kingdom she built for herself and then…she doesn’t even get to captain the Revenge. We don’t know what becomes of her fleet, of her plans, her ambitions. Don’t worry about it, she has a romantic partner and isn’t that what every lady wants in the end?
(But Vee, I hear you cry again, there will be a season three! Maybe it will be All About Zheng! To which I say: then why did they present us with the most series finale feeling episode ever? If there’s more, I have no idea where it’s going. BUT VEE: BUTTONS AS SEAGULL ON THE GR- Fine. It’s time.)
Let’s talk about Izzy Hands.
Izzy manages more healing than anyone else this season. He reaches his lowest point, suicidal in the bowels of a ship that’s become a prison (very much in contrast to Ed’s suicidal low). The person he loves most in the world has shredded him physically and emotionally (and if you’re in the camp that thinks Izzy deserves the abuse that Ed gave to him, I would really like you to sit quietly with yourself and ask why you think there is ever anything anyone can do to deserve that treatment). He’s low, he shoots Ed to protect everyone, and then seems to plan to drink himself to death, mourning his losses.
And then another beautiful moment! The crew move past their own pain to help him. They work together for the first time and it’s to give Izzy mobility back. He treasures it. He cries over it. He uses that kindness extended to him to reach a new understanding of Stede and help him succeed, doing the work to make real amends. He sings in drag, he’s vulnerable and beautiful, celebrating the side of himself that he must’ve loathed in the first season. He’s an elder queer man, coming into himself.
He never gets an apology though. (‘Sorry about your leg’ without eye contact is not an apology. There is no responsibility taking, no acknowledgement of the weeks of torture that came with it.) Izzy also never really has an honest conversation with anyone about what it means that the man he loves punished him so severely for the crime of trying to protect the crew (yes, lest we forget, Izzy lost his leg because he was trying to keep Ed from re-traumatizing the crew and himself).
Izzy does all this work, but even he’s not allowed to take it out of the box. It’s a shark, not Ed. Ed is just ‘complicated’ (the language of abuse here is so upsetting and I think not even intentional).
And then he dies. His last act? To apologize to the man who tortured him and shot at him. To have done all this work, to take on all the blame. And then die.
In a rom com.
This show ends in a profoundly unfunny moment of telling the audience: this is the one character that did the work, that made amends, that tried his hardest to accept the parts of himself that he had a hard time embracing and formerly embittered him. He’s fully accepted his queerness and turned it into beautiful music. He’s disabled, and he worked hard to accept that. The man he loves will never love him back, so he worked hard to make Stede able to meet Ed on an even playing field. The Giving Tree gave up its limbs and its trunk, and it’s not even allowed to be a stump to sit on.
Kill the queer elder, who has managed to figure out how to live and in his own way how to heal. Kill him before he manages to teach anyone else how to meaningfully move forward (he almost gets it with Lucius, almost, but it’s meant to be rule of three, you know. Cigarette..shark…and then…and then fuck it, Lucius doesn’t even get to say a word at his funeral).
The message of this season again and again is that there is no healing, just moving forward. Like a shark. Like a bird that never lands.
That is not a kind show.
Season two is not a kind season.
It splinters people up and jams them back together without purpose or reason. It tells everyone who experiences pain that they should shove it in a box and not deal with it. No one who really needs one gets an apology of any sincerity. No one puts in the work to gain forgiveness. (Ed wearing a onesie is not The Work. Ed fixing a door is not The Work. Ed broke people that the show wants us to care about. Ed never does the work of making those amends. He fires off a Notes app apology at best. After all, it’s what he told himself via Hornigold in the gravy basket: you move on or you blow your brains out! Good thing he took his own advice and therefore had to change nothing to get his just rewards.
I would’ve taken just fifteen minutes of Ed trying to actually make amends. It could’ve been hilarious! Imagine awkward Ed trying to dance around what he’s doing with Jim and the two of them having a knife throwing competition about it. Or him and Frenchie attempting to make music together, writing a song about the raids they went on! It’s not just the crew robbed of their healing because of this, it’s Ed himself. He never meaningfully changes or makes amends. How is he any different at the end of the finale then he is standing on the edge of that cliff with Hornigold? He hasn’t moved on, he hasn’t healed. He tried one thing (fishing) that doesn’t fucking work and then he runs right back.
No one leaves this season better than they went into it. They’ve lost an elder queer, they’ve lost their joyous and queer polyamory, they’ve lost a chance for meaningful reconciliation with Ed and Ed lost any chance of looking like he gave shit if they did. Stede grows enough to accept the crew’s beliefs as important and then leaves them behind without a care.
Izzy gets a beautiful speech about piracy being larger than yourself. Ed and Stede, within twenty minutes of that speech, leave piracy. They are incapable of giving themselves to something bigger, apparently. They haven’t learned to be a part of a community. They haven’t healed from their childhood trauma or their fresher wounds. They are still just following their own whims.
Zheng’s life work is in tatters, but it’s fine, she has love. Oluwande and Jim aren’t together, but it's fine because they both have dedicated monogamous partners. Lucius was deeply scarred by what happened, never recovers much of his first season personality, but hey he got-well it’s not married exactly- but you know good enough!
Frenchie, who has a box forever locked in his head, is captain. Because the key to success is to lock it all in a box and never open it. What a message. What a show. Conceal, don’t feel. Smile because it’s a happy ending. Don’t mourn the dead, don’t try to tell people what happened to you (they will literally run away or cry too hard to listen and really you’re just bumming them out), and any meaningful change you make is only rewarded with death.
Frenchie is now a pirate captain with a box in his head full of trauma that’s never been opened, leading a crew with more wounds than scars. Wonder how that could turn out? Wonder how many years before he might want to retire and then happen to run across a gentleman pirate. As if no one learned anything at all.
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alastor-simp · 2 months
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Alastor with a female reader who is Selectively Mute Part 3
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❥Summary: A certain overlord intrudes on both you and Alastor. This situation is going to become very tense, once you realized who exactly this is.
❥Tags: Selectively mute reader, fluff, fluff and romance, friends to lovers, demi-romantic alastor, alastor frowns, vox being vox, alastor is not used to feelings, comedy, alastor and vox rivalry, spoilers of episode 2, protective alastor, confessing feelings, fem reader.
❥Notes: This is the final chapter of this series. I hope you all enjoyed it :).
"Well well well, if it isn't the Radio Demon." You felt Alastor tense, and the static in the air began to increase. Turning around, you noticed there was another demon standing behind the both of you. He stood as tall as Alastor, sporting a dark blue tuxedo and large red bow tie. The most striking thing on him was his head. It resembled a tv screen. On the screen was a pair of striking red eyes and blue colored teeth. His eyes were filled with immense hate, while sporting a cocky grin.
Alastor slowly turned around, smile strained immensely on his face, which you noticed. Did Alastor know this man? "Ah! If it isn't Vox! The piece of shit television himself?" Alastor snarled back at the TV, teeth sharpening the more he spoke. Ohhh this was Vox! You never saw what he looked like, but you knew about the rivalry between him and Alastor, especially since you heard Alastor mention him in his last broadcast. He was part of a group called the Vee's, which consisted of overlords Valentino, Velvette and Vox. The only Vee you knew about fully was Valentino since he was Angel's boss and you really didn't like him. Vox's eye twitch at Al's insult, but the grin was still present on his face. "HAHAHA! Even after 7 years, you still remained an a**hole. Took you a while to show your ugly face back here. Finally decided to join my team?" He approached closer, arms crossed in front of him, as his eyes were locked on Al, ignoring you. Al's head flew back in laughter, before it snapped back into place, as he let out, "HA! No!"
The both of them were locked in a stare off, with the sounds of static and whirring penetrating the air around you, making you a tad bit nervous. Soon Vox broke the stare, and turned to look at you, eyes widen a tad in shock, before they gazed at you, sensually. "My my! Quite a looker, aren't you! May I know your name, sweetie?” His clawed hand had grabbed yours, as he was leaning down to give it a peck. It felt like a hole had opened inside your stomach. Something about the way he acted made you very uncomfortable. You were use to actions like this from Alastor, as they made your heart skip a beat, but coming from Vox, you didn't like it. A small growl was heard next to you, and another clawed hand had grabbed Vox's wrist, removing his hand from yours. "It is quite rude to touch a lady without her consent, you know! So, H̶̱̞̗͈̮͛̓̔̄͐̉a̴̯̜̗̝̠̰͌̈̋̚͝ͅn̸̖̝͙̜̩̳͆͋̿̃ͅd̸̡̤̅̈̐́̎̐̕s̵̭̀̏͛͐̅ ̷̡̢̩͉͔͍̹̐̃̉͌́̕͠ȍ̸̳̗̰̻͚͔͎͒̄ff̵̘̻̠̗̏̆̚." Radio dials flashed on Al's face, along with his shadow demons poking out a different corners, ready to strike. Scoffing, Vox just pulled his hand away, annoyed that Al had the nerve to touch him, before wearing a sinister grin.
"Heh! Who is the little hottie? A new toy for you to mess with?" Now that pissed you off. You were about to start typing your response on your phone, but Alastor had spoken for you. "She is none of your concern! Now, I believe its time for the both of us to head back! Hope you have an unpleasant evening, Vox!" Al wrapped an arm around you again, ready to leave, but he was stopped by a very loud cackle. "HAHAHAHAHA! Oh this is rich! You running away again?!" He was hunched over, holding his stomach from laughter. Your eyes looked over at Al. His smile was completely strained, to the point of it almost breaking. He was trying very hard to maintain his composure, and not rip off Vox's head, but Al didn't want you to see that side of him, his true side that bathed in carnage and gore, while he danced on the corpses of the demons he slaughtered. Alastor had developed a soft spot for you during his time at the hotel. He hated it immensely, that the more he conversed with you, the more vulnerable he got. He was the radio demon, the most feared demon in hell, who broadcasted the deaths of many overlords to all the residents of hell, but you are able to change him, so he made a vow to himself that he would protect you and help you whenever you were under distress. Last thing he wanted to see from you was your eyes gazing at him in fear, after witnessing his true self.
Vox had finished his laugh session, before he stood back, placing his hands on his hips. "I figured after seven years of disappearing, you would be back to terrorizing the streets, but instead your acting like a little pu✪✪✪ bit✪✪, doing absolutely nothing! You have become such a fossil that barely anyone even remembers you, but they remember me, they always do, since I AM ONE OF THE V-SMACK!" Vox's speech was caught off by a strong slap to his screen face, stunning him a bit, before turning back to look at the both of you. Alastor was gazing at you in shock, not expecting that reaction from you, and slapping Vox across the face. Your face was red with anger, and he could almost see steam coming out of your ears. Grabbing your phone, you began to speed type what you wanted to say to Vox, before turning it towards him, voice speaker volume at full blast:
"𝙾𝙼𝙶 𝙳𝙾 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚂𝙷𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝚄✪✪ 𝚄𝙿!!?!? 𝚆𝙷𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙷𝙴𝙻𝙻 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚃𝙾 𝙸𝙽𝚂𝚄𝙻𝚃 𝙷𝙸𝙼 𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂?! 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙷𝙴 𝙳𝙾𝙴𝚂 𝙳𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝙽𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙾𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙳𝙰𝙼𝙽 𝙱𝚄𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂, 𝚂𝙾 𝙵𝚄✪✪ 𝙾𝙵𝙵!!!!"
Vox was put off a bit by your strange method of responding back, but he shook his head and began to walk closer, peering down at you. "You crazy bit✪✪!! Do you know who I am?! His response earned an eyeroll from you, as you continued to type what you wanted to say:
"𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎! 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝! 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚝, 𝚏𝚞✪✪-𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎! 𝙱𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜, 𝙸 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚖, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝𝚝-𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚗𝚘, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖? 𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚑, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝙷𝚎'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚜𝚘 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚝!"
Vox's eyes widen, as he stepped back at what you said, stunned. "I'm...I'm not......I don't..." He fumbled with his words, unable to give a good comeback. Alastor continued to gaze down at you in awe, wondering where this side of you has been. Typing a final message, you played it out for him:
𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝙰𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙 𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊✪✪ 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏! 𝚆𝚑𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚙𝚒𝚖𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜!
Grabbing Al's hand, you pulled it and began walking back in the direction you were going, leaving behind an open-mouth Vox, screen flashing to blue, as his brain couldn't compute that he just got owned. Alastor said nothing, and followed after you, as the both of you continued to walk back to the hotel. The walk was silent, neither you nor Alastor uttered a word to each other. Arriving at the doors to the hotel, you let Al's hand go, knowing that the others would ask questions if they saw the both of you holding hands. Entering inside, you were greeted by the others, asking how was the show and yada yada. You gave a thumbs up, while Al gave a lengthy response saying that the performance was spectacular. Alastor then urgently insisted that he needed to attend something, before snapping his fingers, disappearing from sight.
He hadn't looked at you the whole time, when the both of you came back. Had you upset him? He didn't appear angry when the both of you started to head back, but maybe he was hiding it from you. Thinking back to what you did, you realized that you maybe shouldn't have done that. Alastor was a powerful demon, the fearful gazes he got from others was proof of that. He was fully capable of defending himself against Vox, he didn't need you to do it for him. Your body wanted to head to where Alastor ran off to, but you decided not to, as he maybe needed time to cool off.
**12:00 AM**
It had finally reached midnight, and you had seen no trace of Alastor. He wasn't present for dinner nor did he return to the lobby. Heaving a sigh, you realized that you must have angered him very badly. You hoped you would see him tomorrow and apologize. Exiting your bathroom, you had finished brushing your teeth and put on your apple themed PJs, a gift from Charlie. Heading over to the bed, you took a sit on the fluffy covers, before falling back, cell phone planting on the bed as well. Too many emotions and thoughts were floating around in your head, preventing you from falling asleep. "Knock knock", a soft knocking noise was heard against your door. Getting up from your bed, along with grabbing your phone, you peeked into the peep hole, to see Alastor standing on the other side. Unlocking the door, you softly opened it. "Good evening, my dear! Sorry if I had disturbed your rest, but there is something I needed to discuss with you." His smile was still enlarged as always, but you couldn't tell if he was back to normal or still enraged. It was so hard to read him at times. Nodding your head, you moved your body to allow him in. He walked inside, standing at the center of your room, with his hands placed behind his back. He didn't turn around to face you, making you feel nervous. Suddenly, sounds of static-filled laughter erupted from him, causing you to jump up in shock.
Alastor turned to face you, still laughing with slight tears in his eyes. "Oh, apologies for the sudden laughter, but your little confrontation with Vox was highly entertaining, my dear! In all my years in hell, I have never seen that expression from him! HAHAHA! What a sight!" Alastor was still giggling with glee, wiping his eyes, that were leaking with tears. The laughing quickly stopped when he saw the look on your face, tears streaming down. Panicking, Al walked closer, wondering why you were crying. Pulling your phone up, fingers shakingly typing your message to Al"
𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢. 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍. 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝙸…..𝙸
Unable to type, due to how hard your hands were shaking, you dropped your phone, hands flying to your face, wiping away at your tears. Alastor was silent, having not said a word after you dropped your phone. Two hands had grabbed yours, pulling them away from your face, allowing your eyes to look up at Al's. His expression was soft, wearing a small grin. "Why would you think I was angry with you, my dear?" His voice had dropped into a soft whisper, containing no traces of static. You casted your eyes down, still feeling ashamed. "Y/N. Look at me." Goosebumps appeared all over your body. He almost never addressed you by your full name. Peering back into his red irises, you looked straight at him. His eyes always held so much emotion, and the emotion you saw was pure warmth. His fingers wiped at your cheeks, cleaning the tears "I was never upset with you. Frankly, I was quite in awe at what you did. You defended me without hesitation and even called me a "friend." It has been many centuries since someone has addressed me that way, that it stunned me to my very core. Please don't cry, my dear. Tears don't suit your adorable face."
He rubbed your cheeks up and down like you were a cat. His sweet words felt like they were caressing your skin, causing shivers to flow through your body. Alastor leaned forward, placing his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. "You....you are quite a special one, aren't you. Being with you makes me feel things I thought had died long ago. Only time I felt anything like this was when my mother was still alive. These things....these feelings are changing me, you are changing me. Part of me wants to push them away, but the other part of me wants to embrace them, embrace this." His everlasting smile had dropped, causing your eyes to widen. He was frowning!! Alastor, the demon who always wore a smile, was frowning?! This was the real Alastor in front of you now, not the radio demon persona. Rubbing his forehead against yours, Al opened his eyes, staring back at you.
The both of you stayed in that position until Alastor spoke again, "All of this...is entirely new to me, my dear. But, I want to explore more of this with you. What say you, Y/N? Would you like for this to become something more?" The butterflies in your stomach were going haywire, as the color of your cheeks dyed a deep red. Alastor wanted to be with you? Have a relationship more than this? Your thoughts were filled with all of the moments the both of you had. The pleasant conversations, the sweet gestures and the looks he would give you. The answer was clear to you. Wanting to grab your phone, you realized you had dropped it, making you unable to tell Alastor your answer. No no. You didn't need the phone. Feelings of nervousness began to overtake you, as you bit your lip. Alastor noticed your expression, and pulled back.
"I'm sorry, my dear. I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I'll take my leave. We can discuss this another time." Alastor's smile had come back, but it seemed almost somber. Shaking your head, you didn't want him to leave without hearing what you had to say. Clenching your fists, you took a deep breath. Grabbing his coat, you pulled him down, back to your level. Alastor bent down. letting out a small gasp, not expecting your actions. Before he could speak, a pair of lips had attached to his. His crimson eyes widen in shock, his body becoming tense. His mind slowly began to piece together that you were kissing him. It left him shook, but he slowly eased into it, reciprocating back. The kiss lasted for a full minute, before you pulled away, and stared at Al. Biting your lip again, baring through the anxious emotions, you opened your mouth.
"I-I love you Alastor. I-I want to be t-together with you"
Alastor nearly gasped, legs almost buckling from what just happened. Did you just speak?!?!?!? You had spoken for the first time, in front of him. Your voice was so precious and soft, almost like an angel. His eyes sparkled with excitement, as he grabbed you by the waist, spinning you around in joy. Grabbing on to him, you let out a small chuckle, at his reaction. The spinning slowly stopped, as Al set you back down, placing his gloved hand on your pink-tinted cheek. His own face was similar to yours, flustered, yet he was wearing a love-struck expression. "I-I adore you as well, my doe." Seems it was still difficult for him to say I love you, but you were content with that. Alastor then leaned in to kiss your forehead, as he pulled back. "I believe it is past our bedtimes, my doe. I must, unfortunately head back to my quarters, but I will be here first thing in the morning." Listening to him, you nodded your head, letting out a soft "okay". Patting your head, he wished you pleasant dreams, as he made his way to your door, exiting your room. Watching him leave, you walked to the door, and placed a hand on it, before you turned around. Sliding your body down, you placed a hand on your chest as you gave a love struck sigh. It was official, both you and Al were going to be more than just friends. It made you nervous, but so excited at the same time. Getting up from your position on the floor, you went over to your bed, placing your head on the pillow. Grabbing the other across from you, you planted your face into it, squealing while kicking your feet in joy.
**Alastor POV**
Having left your room, Alastor still stood at your door, back facing it. Letting out a shaky sigh, he placed his back against it, letting his head fall back against it. His emotions were springily like crazy. All of this was still so new to him. His memory flashed back to what he said to you, annoyed that he couldn't say the three simple words, but he remembered the smitten look on your face, happy with that he said. The black heart in his chest was still beating a mile a minute, and his cheeks were still flaming hot. Sighing again, he moved from his position and walked down the hallway to head to his room. Tomorrow was going the be the first day of the both of you being in this kind of relationship, and he honestly couldn't wait.
~END~
Part 1 of Series is Here = X
Part 2 of Series is Here = X
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kiame-sama · 3 months
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Drag Me to Hell- (Yandere!Alastor x Chubby!Reader) pt. 3
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Warnings; spoilers for episode 5 of Hazbin Hotel, yandere relationship, yandere temper, yandere behavior, toxic relationship, Alastor is not fond of disobedience, don't make deals with demons,
~~~~~~~~
"Good talk, chum!"
Alastor hummed as he moved towards the shadows, leaving behind a shaking and terrified Husker. There were many words that could be used to describe Alastor and none were more fitting than terrifying.
None knew this better than you.
"Husker," you started, emerging from where you had been waiting down the hall, "are you okay?"
The hellcat tried to pull himself together quickly and brush you off, but his shaking betrayed how truly afraid he was. When Alastor wanted to put terror into others, he didn't need to work very hard to accomplish his goal.
"Why the Hell d'you care? You're his fuckin' favorite, the fuck you know about it?"
You knew he was lashing out to protect himself, but the words almost managed to make you flinch. Luckily for the both of you, you didn't and you kept a level head. If he had seen... Still, you wanted to try and comfort the fellow lost soul ensnared by your eternal captor.
"Husker, listen to me."
Something about your firm tone made the demon pause, an almost confused and unsettled expression on his face. It was rare that you became so serious and pleading with anyone, let alone tried to actually talk to anyone for extended periods of time. Something about your tone made him want to take whatever you were going to say seriously.
"You may think you know the limits of his patience but you don't. I know them. I have seen more than you know and have been by his side for longer than you may expect. I can never share these things. I can never tell anyone what I have heard and seen. Those memories are not my secrets to share. But I can tell you some of the terms of my contact, and I hope you understand and take heed."
You were choosing your words carefully, knowing that you could only say so much before the fine-print of your contract with Alastor silenced you. Parroting one of the key lines of your contract even as you navigated your way through the red-tape and fine print. Alastor made sure to create a rather finely crafted contract to outline your deal with him and you had plenty of time to read over it again and again.
"Expected and Required are the same thing. I am expected to remain by Alastor's side until he doesn't want me to be. I am expected to do what is asked of me by Alastor and no one else. I am expected to keep what I see and hear a secret unless Alastor wishes for me to speak on the matter. I am expected to remember the primary terms of every contract I have seen. And I have to say, Husker, I know better than anyone what chains can bind some overlords."
Husker seemed confused for a moment before his eyes flashed with recognition before shifting to curiosity. You could only hope that he gathered the information you wanted to give him without having directly said it.
"You were there for my deal, weren't you?"
"I cannot say. Those are not my secrets to share."
"But where were you? I thought it was just me an' him. Unless... Hells, you're his microphone, aren't you?"
"I am expected to be by his side until he doesn't want me to be."
"You've been around long enough to see my deal, you must have seen so many other deals too. Why do you stay with him? Ain't there any kind of freedom to your deal?"
"My deal was made to keep me safe from other demons. It... Evolved into what it is now. I stay safe and in return I do as my deal says, no questions. That is what I agreed to. Look, Husker, all I am saying is your leash could be tighter, your chains could be heavier, and you could have far less freedoms than you have now. Don't squander it over someone like Mimzy."
"I just know she is bad news! But he won't listen."
"I know she is bad news too and I admit, I hate her. Every time she shows up she uses him and thinks she has some kind of control over him because he lets her get away with this nonsense."
You sighed and tried to smile at Husker, feeling the wry and strained grin become more of a grimace. It was true that you strongly disliked the woman that only appeared when she needed help and you knew she didn't like you either. Mimzy had obvious feelings for Alastor and she hated the fact that you were close to him when she so desperately wanted to be in your place.
"Husker, I can't say I like you- he doesn't like competition of any kind- but I don't want you killed or hurt. You are a better person than you claim to be and we both know it. Just know that though he doesn't like your tone, he does hear you and your concerns."
"Listen, (y/n), maybe if we talk to Charlie about your deal, she can-"
You sharply stood from where you had been kneeling by his side, already knowing where the conversation was going and not wanting either of you to get hurt by the blowback. If Husker finished his sentence, odds are Alastor would not hesitate to rip his soul to shreds for daring to try and break the deal you had. There was no way you were going to let such a thing happen and that meant you had to make it clear to Husker as well.
"No. I am happy with my deal. I would never say anything to the contrary or try to get out of my deal with Alastor. Besides, I have seen too much and know too much for him to ever let me go peacefully. That level of blood and retribution is far too high a price. Don't suggest it again, Husker, or we will both be in trouble for it. Please, just trust me to-"
The way your voice died in your throat with a slight choke let the demon know you said as much as you could. Though there was more you wished to say, you could feel your own leash tighten in a clear warning and you knew then he had been listening. Odds are, Alastor had been listening to the whole thing and he was not pleased with your attempts to get around his gag order. It was also clear to you that Alastor was likely testing you by letting Husker get as far as he did in his questioning.
A chill ran down your back and you saw your fellow demon's eyes widen as he stared behind you. The clawed hand of the Radio Demon rest on your shoulder, his head leaning over so you could barely see his threatening grin in your peripheral view. You could feel his shadows crawling over your skin and around you as he casually asserted control over both you and Husker.
"Now, now. Whatever could you two possibly be discussing? It wouldn't happen to be about the rules you know you can't discuss, right?"
"Of course not, Alastor. We both know that they aren't my secrets to share even if I wanted to, which I don't. I am simply informing him from one damned soul to another that trying to rile you is a bad idea."
A soft growl could be heard from Alastor and you could feel the slight brush of his antlers against your head as his annoyance grew. As far as you knew, you hadn't said anything to upset him and you had not breached the terms of your contract. But the way his hand tightened on your shoulder told you Alastor was unhappy about something and you were terrified what that would mean for Husker.
"I have told you what to call me many times now, (y/n). I do not appreciate your continued failure to heed my instruction."
It then dawned on you why Alastor was irritated and in some ways it was ridiculous to you. He was upset because you called him Alastor and not a pet name as he had requested. Honestly, you had forgotten entirely about something so trivial, but you also knew Alastor was a stickler for details.
"Dear, I feel there is a time and place for terms of endearment and they have no place in serious discussion."
"That is for me to decide and you to obey. Do not presume such things again, Sugar. Now, what is this about you hating Mimzy?"
"She is only here to try and use you, we all know that. I don't like her casual attempts at controlling you and I know she dislikes me as well."
"I don't care what she thinks of you, it is not her decision if I keep you with me or not. Now, I would hope you know better than to question me, because I doubt you want to spend another half a decade locked away again. Do I make myself clear, Honey?"
"... Yes, Darling."
Alastor was quick to disappear once more into shadow, leaving both you and Husker to stare at one another in silence. You both knew he likely didn't go far and that he was always watching whatever it was you chose to do. With this constant observation in mind, you did your best to keep your actions to a minimum and to keep any backlash from hurting Husker.
"We both know what our place is. It would be best that we don't question it. I'm truly sorry for the pain you feel, Husker, but we made our choices. Be happy your choice gives you some kind of freedom."
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rants-of-rae · 8 months
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Ahsoka on Choosing (and Fighting) to Live, and why it matters that Anakin was the one to complete this lesson
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Ahsoka has been playing the neutral game for a while now. Don’t engage, it at all possible. Avoid conviction , which Anakin points out that she lacks. Anakin tells Ahsoka that her training isn’t yet complete. There’s still a last lesson for her, and it’s one that transforms her in the end.
That message? Fight.
This is not about merely physical survival. This is about spiritual survival, the survival of who Ahsoka is in the Light.
It’s exactly the lesson Anakin had to learn for himself. He had to learn to fight for the Light inside him; he had to fight Vader to find himself again and protect the core of who he is. He couldn’t teach her that before, all that time ago. He didn’t know. He could teach her to be a soldier, yes, but as Ahsoka knows and as we found out in this episode, her training from him wasn’t complete. Because he had only recently learned t he final lesson himself, which he is now in the World Between Worlds to teach her. He tells her:
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He knows it’s already within her, but she resists the message. Ahsoka lives through the past once again, and Anakin is trying to show her how she wasn’t just fighting to live in a physical sense, she was fighting to save her self in the spiritual sense, her soul in the Light side of the Force. She fought to save herself when she left the Jedi Order. She fought for what she believed was right in the siege of Mandalore.
But in one thing, Ahsoka has remained neutral, avoiding a solid conviction. She won’t fight Anakin, she won’t take that step.
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But that’s not what Anakin wants. In the same way that Luke initially didn’t want to fight his father and eventually had to in order to protect what is good and true inside of himself, Ahsoka has to choose that, too. Anakin had to learn that and choose to live himself, too. Luke and Anakin have gone before her; it is Ashoka’s turn now. Anakin pushes her.
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Ahsoka walks right up to the edge. She engages in the struggle, as she is meant to. She touches the Dark side, and she chooses to back away from it. She chooses to fight for the Light inside her. She chooses to live.
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It’s exactly what Anakin wanted her to learn. His reaction is interesting, because he appears almost sad for a moment.
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But I think it’s because he’s shocked at how comparatively easy it was for Ahsoka to resist the Dark side, in contrast to himself. He realizes she’s so much stronger on that front than he ever was. He’s surprised, ashamed of himself perhaps, but ultimately proud of her. “There’s hope for you yet,” he tells Ahsoka.
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This experience changes Ahsoka forever and from this she becomes Ahsoka the White.
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Ahsoka has found balance now. She learns that in the struggle to hold on to the Light inside of her, she has to take a stand in the end. It’s what Luke learned, it’s what Anakin finally learned, and Ahsoka has finally found that hope, too. Anakin wasn’t able to finish her training all that time ago because he didn’t know the lesson yet; now that he does, he has returned to her in the World Between Worlds to finish her training. He brought balance yet again, and Ahsoka has found peace with her past. She was never “just a soldier,” she was always so much more. Anakin brought her hope, and now its Ahsoka’s turn to carry the flame.
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puddingyun · 3 months
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sensitive . ݁₊ ⊹ k.ys
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yeo x reader
18+ mdni
: 1.6k words, childhood friends, smut, dacryphilia, handjob/blowjob :
day 6 of fff24 ♡
Yeosang had always been softer than other guys you knew. He didn't care for the ugly parts of growing up - the playground fights, the bitching and backstabbing, the grazing of knees and spraining of ankles - and instead preferred the quieter, more beautiful things. He liked playing video games by himself, watching dust motes dance in the sun, and sipping on strawberry-banana smoothies when everybody else was seeing who could down the most malt chocolate shakes without puking. 
It had always been quietly presumed that he would grow out of his softness when he got older, replace his naïveté with a little harshness and sharpen the gentle parts of him. This never happened, though. When he was younger, Yeosang had been the boy who needed a kiss to his knee before a band-aid could be applied, and now that he was older he still needed a kiss to his bruises before he could forget about their dull ache. As much as some people liked to turn their noses up at those parts of him, you couldn't help but find it endearing. He was sweeter than anybody else you knew, the same way a bruised peach was sweeter than a firm one. 
Even this afternoon when you'd been walking back to his place in the snow you could feel his hand holding on tight to yours each time you walked over an icy patch, scared to slip and hurt himself. Each time you glanced over at him and saw his rosy cheeks you were reminded of his clumsy caution when he was younger, tiptoeing when everybody else would run. 
You could hear him in the shower from where you sat on the sofa, his soft sighs interrupting the water drumming against tile. You turned down the sound of the TV and listened to him from afar, all of his faint sounds and movements filling the apartment like a radio show playing from next door. 
"I'm sleepy," was the first thing he murmured as he stepped out of the bathroom, dragging his feet along the floor on his way to the sofa. He sat down beside you with a long huff and then slowly leaned into you, his face pressing into the crook of your neck so that you could feel his breath on your skin. "Aren't you sleepy yet?"
"Only a little. I just wanted to watch TV for a while," you replied, raising a hand to run your fingers through Yeosang's hair. When your nails scratched his scalp you felt him melt into you even more, moving to wrap his arms around you. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just tired," he mumbled, withdrawing his face from your neck to see what it was that you were watching on TV. You watched the way he blinked slowly, trying to figure out what was happening in the middle of the episode he'd just walked in on. He was sweet and fuzzy around the edges the way you'd always known him to be. 
"Hey," you whispered, smoothing some of his hair out of his face. "C'mere."
He was only a little curious when he turned his head back towards you, lips parted and ready to ask what was wrong. When you leaned in and pressed a soft peck to his lips his expression quickly changed to a smile, hands holding onto your waist tightly as he chased after your lips, kissing you again and again and again until you were breathless. 
"I thought you said you were tired," you teased, kissing the space between his eyebrows.
"I am, but..." he started and just as quickly trailed off, his cheeks flushed and hands wandering up beneath your top. 
"But what, Yeo?" you asked, already smirking. As though on cue, Yeosang blinked twice and his eyes turned shiny with tears, glimmering in the low glow coming from the TV. 
"We could kiss more," he mumbled, thumbs dragging along the skin beneath your breasts as though testing the waters. You watched, amazed as always, as his eyes remained a pool of unshed tears even as he tried to blink them away. They stayed there, not spilling or going away, and Yeosang's cheeks only turned darker the longer you went without answering.
"Okay," you replied finally, smiling at his relieved expression. You pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips and laid a hand on his chest. "Lay back."
Yeosang did as told, obedient and malleable as always. You placed your hands on his shoulders and your legs on either side of him so that you were pressed together, his arousal from the kisses you'd exchanged already obvious. Slowly, so slow it ached, you leaned down and kissed him again. This time his tongue swiped against your lips, hot and needy, and when you opened your mouth to let him in he groaned low in his throat. 
His hands explored while your tongue licked into your mouth, pushing up your shirt only to travel back down to your hips before his blunt nails were digging into your ass, pulling you closer to him as though you weren't already as close as you could get. You took his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking and letting go with a soft nip that made Yeosang moan. When you pulled back a string of saliva connected your lips for a second before snapping and disappearing. You giggled, watching as the first tear rolled down Yeosang's temple. 
"Are you okay?" you asked, even though you already knew the answer. Yeosang nodded, flustered, and sniffled. You felt him grind his hips up into you, eyes fluttering shut as he did.
"Yeah. I just like you a lot," he admitted breathily. He looked beautiful, lips slick with spit and lashes wet with tears he hadn't yet shed. You leaned in and kissed along his jaw, right up to his ear, and then kissed down his neck, stopping your trail only to bite down on his skin. "Fuck-"
Yeosang's moan trailed off into a whimper as you sucked on the skin until you'd left behind a dark, splotchy hickey there, the indents of your teeth still visible around it. You glanced up at Yeosang and noticed that his temples were both wet now, glistening each time he blinked. You pressed a quick kiss there, tasting the salt of his tears on your lips, and then moved to position yourself between his legs. 
"Are you going to...?" Yeosang asked quietly, his voice wobbly and his hips bucking up into nothing. 
"Do you want me to?" you asked, smiling when Yeosang nodded. "Okay, baby."
He was only a little squirmy when you pulled down his sweatpants and underwear to reveal his dick, already hard and leaking precum against his tummy. You smiled, leaning in to kiss the base while you watched his expression twitch from the slightest touch. 
His soft panting rose to a string of moans as you took his dick in your hand, rubbing your thumb against the frenulum and watching how more precum oozed out of him. You couldn't help but smile as you began to stroke him, each movement wetter than the last. Even now he was sweet, his cheeks wet when he lifted his head to look down at you. It was all you could do not to shove your free hand in your pants and get off to the sight of him.
"Fuck, that feels good," Yeosang moaned, thrusting up to meet your movements so that he was fucking your fist. His abs tensed with each movement and then spasmed with each little hiccup and sob that managed to escape his lips. Leaning down to suck on the head of his dick you watched him press a hand over his mouth to contain his noises, moans muffled as you flicked your tongue against the head of his dick. 
"Cum whenever you want, Yeosangie," you reassured him, eyeing the hand balled into a fist at his side. With each stroke of his dick you twisted your wrist a little, watching how fat, hot tears escaped Yeosang's eyes with each blink. He threw his head back and moaned loudly, dropping his hand from his mouth to let his sounds out into the apartment. You giggled, leaning down to kiss down one of the veins that ran along his cock.
"That feels - fuck - that feels so good," he sobbed, voice strained as he fucked into your hand. "Can I really cum whenever?"
"Of course, love," you hummed, kneading at his thigh with your free hand. "Whenever you want."
This was all the permission he needed, because as soon as you put his mouth back on him he was spilling his load on your tongue, whimpering and sobbing as you sucked him off through his orgasm. Even as you lifted your head and swallowed what he'd given you he was still hiccuping, tears rolling down his cheeks like a waterfall. Except this waterfall wasn't thundering or dangerous, it was meek and sweet. 
"Good?" you asked as you moved back up to kiss him once more, the taste of cum and tears and spit all mixing to create an odd but familiar flavour. 
"Mhm," Yeosang sniffed. He smiled up at you. "Now I'm really tired."
"Let me go take a shower then we can get into bed," you assured him, stroking his hair out of his face to kiss his forehead. 
As you stood, you glanced back at Yeosang, his face all messy with tears and his nose and cheeks pink, and felt your heart (as well as something else) throb for him. 
You really did love how soft Yeosang was.
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chaoticace2005 · 4 months
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I’m really wondering what’s up with Alastor now. From the second Lucifer walked into the door he looks annoyed, and he takes the first opportunity to have to fuck with him. It’s not his normal fucking either- this is the first time Al has sworn in the show. It could be the pacing but he’s never given much indication that he sees Charlie as a daughter before (then again we haven’t gotten much with Al and Charlie.)
So I’m assuming that was less to do with Charlie and more to do with fucking with Lucifer. The questions remains though of why?? Yes Al is powerful, but it’s Lucifer. I think that if he had been working with Lilith, it’d make sense for him to possibly hate Lucifer due to something that happened to Lilith (since we know she left him, it seems like he was focusing only on his work and not giving attention to his family), and if Lilith has told Al about her ex-husband it would make sense for him to not feel too threatened.
If he is working for Lilith, that does also give reason for him to be at the hotel. We know he’s protective of it and we assumed it was because of the entertainment, but it’s possible that that’s what he says so everyone thinks he has a choice on the matter. Maybe Lilith sent him to help Charlie? Episode 5 really just showed there is a lot more happening, and I’m sure episode 7 (the Al and Rosie episode) will go into it.
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icanhearcolors · 8 months
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I really love the idea of Tav drawing Astarion to show him what he looks like, could you maybe write something about that? ^-^
Hiiiiii! I can indeed thank you for the request :b
Welcome back to another episode of Abby tries to write something short and can't make it less than two thousand words.
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EVERYBODY LOOK AT THIS GIF CUZ KJNKBJHGFRRETFO
Sorry I think I got possessed for a second there
Word count: 2.1k
The night sky had never been this gorgeous in the city. In Baldur’s Gate, the upper city was illuminated by mage lights that adorned the cobblestone paths. The light was bright enough that the citizens split into two factions, the night life and the day. Even those without dark vision could operate solely at night in total comfort if they chose to. In the lower city, fires were always burning, sending plumes of rich smelling smoke into the air constantly, obscuring the night sky.
But out here, under the blue light of a full moon, you can see every star and constellation in vivid detail. A soft purr-like snore hums against your back, and you brush a hand over the downy feathers of the owlbear cub you rescued from the goblins. He was getting so big. If he gets half as big as his mother was it is going to become a challenge to travel with him. It’s a sacrifice you’re more than willing to make. Besides, you could always cast the reduction spell on him in a pinch if any problem arose. He sleeps curled around your back, alongside his friend Scratch the dog, whose fluffy white head is resting in your lap.
The campfire crackles a few yards ahead as Wyll adds a few logs, humming a Baldurian tune you recognize but can’t quite recall the name of.
For the first time since the nautiloid crash you feel peaceful. Safe.
You turn your gaze to Astarion’s tent, probably for the thousandth time tonight, and stare at his profile as he flips through the pages of the seemingly sentient necromancy tomb you had discovered a few tendays prior. A faint green light curls from the pages like mist, illuminating half his face and casting the rest in shadow. You’d never really understood the saying “so beautiful it hurts'' until you met Astarion. An unknown emotion compresses your chest in a way that makes it hard to breathe sometimes when you look at him. You think it started out as empathy. Every detail of Astarion’s story he revealed to either warn you about vampires or shock you for his own amusement painted a picture of a horrific life full of trauma and misery that you found hard to reconcile with your enigmatic companion. He was always the first to crack a joke. He laughed loudly and on a constant basis. From an outsider’s view he’d appear almost carefree. Happy even. You wondered now how much of that laughter was real, and how much of it was the armor he’d donned a couple hundred years ago when he breached the surface of his own grave. You recall a conversation you had with him a while back about vanity. In his two hundred and forty years, give or take, he’d only been able to see his reflection for thirty nine. An incredibly young age to die for a high elf, and a small fraction of his life-span. Even if any fuzzy memory remained of that past life, it was no longer accurate anyway. 
He was something different now. 
Your eyes slide to your pack. You had found something yesterday- something rare indeed. A merchant selling art supplies outside of the city. You had everything you needed to give Astarion something you took for granted every day. His reflection.
Slowly, both as to not disturb your sleeping friends and not alert the elf in question to your actions, you slip a hand inside the bag. Your fingers find a pencil easily, the paper next, and you begin to draw. At first you draw him as he is, using his current unmoving form as a model, but you had been quite the artist in your time in Baldur’s gate, and you finished that drawing almost too quickly. So, you draw him again from memory, this time with his head thrown back, face scrunched with laughter. Then you draw his frown, his smirk, the condescending expression he so often gives Gale, the softer one you don’t quite understand that he reserves for you. You don’t hide or downplay his vampiric traits. You draw him exactly as he is, blending colored chalk to capture every shade of red in his eyes. Time falls away as you lose focus on everything but your work. Eventually, some time much later, the cramps in your muscles wake you from your trance. You stretch, and your knees, shoulders, and spine crack loudly. Scratch wakes up, stands, shakes himself off, and trots into the bushes. Your owlbear notices, and trills a soft sound before standing too, following him into the woods. You smile as you watch them amble off, happy they get along so well. You turn back to your drawings and examine them with new eyes. You expected to feel excitement, pride maybe, but instead a cold feeling ties your insides in knots as you realize you can never give these to Astarion. The drawings are some of your best work, but they’re also… reverential. A glimpse of Astarion through your eyes. Anyone who saw them would think you had drawn your lover, not your less-than-trusting involuntary traveling companion. He would take one look and realize exactly what you’ve been hiding from him since- well since you met him. You were infatuated with the vampire, and somehow, miraculously, despite the fact that you’d slept with him once already,  he seemed to be unaware.
He was going to find out.
You eye the campfire, half tempted to toss the whole pad of paper into it.
In your panic you turn your gaze toward Astarion’s tent.
He’s not there. 
His tent is open, and no one is inside it. You can see that from here. 
Somehow- maybe it’s the tadpole, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent so much time with the rogue, you realize you know exactly where he is.
Slowly, as if to avoid instigating an attack from a stalking predator, you turn your head to find Astarion standing behind you, peering over your shoulder.
Even though you were expecting it, you still startle out of your skin. Astarion drops to his knees on the ground in front of you and claps his hand over your mouth just in time to muffle your screech. You both look at eachother with wide eyes before turning slowly and in unison towards a sleeping Lae’zel. She’s frowning in her sleep, which isn’t unusual for her. She twitches, and then rolls over to her other side, sound asleep. You sigh in relief, through your nose because your mouth is still covered by Astarion’s hand. You swat it away and throw him a withering glare.
“What the in the hells is wrong with you?” You whisper-shout.
Astarion presses his lips together and turns his head away from you for a moment, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
“Oh yeah, laugh it up. If she’d woken up we’d be dead right now.”
“Look it’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention. You haven’t moved in almost four hours, I wanted to know what you could possibly be writing.”
You clutch the drawing pad to your chest and swallow nervously, eyes darting around for any glimpse of something you can use to distract him.
Unfortunately as you’ve come to realize, regardless of what they used to be, once turned vampires become lethal predators. Astarion sees your darting eyes, catches the scent of your fear, and you see the shift in his demeanor. 
His movements become slower, more fluid, as he tilts his head in malicious curiosity.
He reminds you sometimes of the big cats that roam the mountains of Faerûn. Once something captures his attention, there’s little use in trying to pull him off the hunt.
Still, you’re going to try.
“I’m not writing.”
His eyes flick to your hands, dusted in red powder, then back up. He hums.
“Drawing then. What have you been drawing Tav?” 
His voice is darker now. Persuasive. 
“It’s- uh… personal.”
Astarion lowers himself fully to the ground and stretches his legs out in front of him, leaning back on his arms. 
“A personal drawing?” He purrs, “Well now I have to see it.”
“No-” You cover your face with your hand, “That’s not what I meant and you know that Astarion.”
A moment of silence passes, so you lift your hand away from your face.
Astarion is gazing at you with that unknown expression again. His eyes look earnest, a soft smile on his lips, when he speaks the words that are your undoing.
“You can trust me, Tav. I already know how talented you are, you don’t have anything to worry about. Just show me.”
You sigh, and his smile grows. He knows he’s won.
Bastard.
“Fine you can see my drawings, but I need to tell you-”
The drawing pad is already out of your hands, your permission apparently all that was keeping Astarion from snatching it away from you.
Your heart stops at his first look at the paper. He stills, flipping through the drawings slowly, his eyes tracing every detail with excruciating slowness.
Finally, he puts you out of your misery.
“I-” He clears his throat, not meeting your eyes. “These are...”
He grips the paper tightly when you attempt to take the drawing pad back from him. You’re confused, and a little… well actually very hurt for a reason beyond your understanding.
Does he hate it? Did you overstep?
“What are you thinking?”
Astarion finally looks at you, his expression guarded. He points to the drawings.
“Who is this?”
Oh.
You’re shocked silent. You should have anticipated this. Of course Astarion wouldn’t recognize himself in your drawings. That was the entire reason you drew him in the first place.
“He’s um-” You fall silent again.
Astarion looks both terrified and heartbreakingly hopeful. You’re sure he already knows the answer. You’ve spoken to him at length about what he is. You know that he knows he’s the only vampire spawn you’ve ever met, and you’ve been traveling together without much separation ever since.
He still needs to hear you say it.
You stare at your wringing hands in your lap and take a deep breath.
“I remembered that conversation we had about how you don’t know what you look like, you just have to go off of what other people tell you, and I bought these art supplies earlier and I haven’t drawn in so long, I used to all the time but with everything that’s going on- and I meant to just draw you once but I wanted you to know what you looked like when you smiled too and then I got a little carried away I’m so-”
You don’t hear him move. Your rambling speech stutters to a stop at the sensation of a hand on your cheek. Astarion hooks his thumb under your chin and lifts your head just enough to press his lips to yours.
Your eyes widen in surprise and then flutter closed. All thoughts cease, replaced by a languid warmth that melts you into a puddle on the ground.
You tilt your head and kiss him back, a tingling sensation racing down your spine. His hand slides from your cheek into your hair, and he gently pulls your head back, deepening the kiss in a way that steals the air from your lungs.
All too soon he pulls back, just a few inches, and smiles.
A real, genuine smile that shows his teeth and lights his eyes. You think you would do terrible terrible things to see that smile more often.
He brings his other hand up to frame your face, holding you in place as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away.
“Thank you.” He says simply, his voice hoarse.
“This is a gift. I won’t forget it.”
He repeats the words he said to you what feels like centuries ago, the night you found out he was a vampire and agreed to feed him. 
“You’re welcome.” Is all you can think to say.
With absolutely no warning at all Astarion drops his hands to your shoulders and yanks you toward him just in time. A pillow, rather violent in its velocity, grazes the back of your head in its catapult into the forest. Somewhere in the dark woods, Scratch yelps.
“Next time it will be my sword Isticks”
Growls Lae’zel from her bed roll on the other side of the campfire.
You turn back to Astarion with an amused but also terrified expression, and he smiles knowingly, rolling his eyes.
He picks the drawings up off the ground from where they’d been scattered at some point and gathers them in one hand. He stands, hoisting you up with his free hand, and practically drags you across the camp to his tent.
You’ll have to draw him more often.
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Text
ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ
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ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ
"ʏᴏᴜ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ʟᴀᴛᴇʟʏ, ʏᴇᴀʜ, ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ..."
Word count: 3,800.
Fandom: House of the Dragon.
Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.
MEETING - 1. Her.
Her legs, without any command and with an unstoppable perseverance, set off through the labyrinthine corridors of the red keep towards her mother's chambers long before the phrase fully reached her ears, the one she had so longed for: "The baby has been born, my princess."
Her family was her most loved treasure and when her mother announced the big news, time seemed to slow down. She couldn't wait to have that baby in her arms and cherish every second the gods, those she fervently prayed to, would allow her to spend with him.
Every night, in silent supplications, she repeated to any who would listen: "Please, let him be born healthy. Please, take care of my mother."
Rhaenyra painfully held in her heart the memory of her mother Aemma's early departure from the world. She wanted to shield her little ones from all fear and anguish, so she didn't dwell on details about that traumatic episode, one that, despite the years, remained as a deep and open wound. Unfortunately, she couldn't stop the whispers, those that seeped into her daughter's ears, creating such intense fear that she barely had room to breathe during those long nine months.
She felt a smile so wide it would ache her cheeks later and feet that weren't fast enough. Upon reaching the large wooden door, she took a few seconds to take a deep breath, calm her racing nerves, and finally push it open with determination.
Her entrance went unnoticed, as all eyes in the room were on the small human being now peacefully resting in her father's arms.
Except hers, no, those were on the woman sitting on the couch. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, her hair tousled and a tired expression adorned her face; yet never, in her short years on this earth, had she seen her so beautiful.
"Mother" she murmured almost voicelessly, taking her hands in hers and seeking her gaze. She felt her eyes sting, tears threatening to spill, and a lump forming in her throat. She wanted to speak again, but her voice got lost along the way. Fortunately, it wasn't necessary; Rhaenyra knew her as well as herself and could read her like an open book.
"My love, please, have no fear, we are okay" with those simple words, her lungs filled with air, swelling her chest. She let out a sigh, laden with relief, laden with love. She could only nod in response.
"Sister, look!" Jacaerys exclaimed, drawing her attention. He lifted the lid of the large steel chest, releasing steam and revealing a dragon egg. 
"We choose an egg for the baby" Lucerys added.
"That looks like the perfect one, brothers" she said with a smile, though a bittersweet taste filled her mouth. Unlike her brothers, her own egg had never hatched, a disappointment she carried permanently with her, though she tried not to show it in these moments of happiness.
"I let Luke choose" he said, she messed up the younger one's hair and planted a kiss on his head.
"Thank you, Jace."
"Not every day an egg leaves the dragonpit, my princess, I thought it best to escort the lads" intervened Harwin Strong, adorned in his imposing armor and golden cloak. It didn't surprise her seeing him there; in fact, despite having a different last name, she considered him part of her family.
He was her protector, who always escorted her to her room, pampered her with luxurious books, and listened attentively to every word she said. She had more memories of him than of her own father, but she didn't complain; she knew he was a busy man. Harwin had tried to teach her the art of the sword, insisting on the importance of knowing how to defend herself, but she always found herself more interested in books. Besides, she had the feeling that he would never neglect watching her back.
"Laenor and I thank you, Commander" she heard her mother say.
"Father, may I see it?" she asked. Laenor knelt down, allowing the three of them to meet the new member of the family. It only took one look for him to completely captivate her. She mentally swore that nothing would ever harm him as long as she breathed. "What a fine knight you are going to make, eh?"
"Another boy, I heard" Harwin cleared his throat. "Might I?" he asked, seeking her mother's approval. She thought she saw a glimpse of the same relief that filled her eyes.
"Ser Harwin wishes to be introduced to Joffrey" she said, smiling. Upon hearing that name, her lips formed another smile. Of course, she would have been equally happy if it were a girl, but she was glad to still be the only one. It had its advantages.
"Of course" Laenor agreed. Rising, he gently placed Joffrey in Harwin's arms.
"Joffrey, is it?" her father nodded in agreement to the question.
"Mother, please may I hold Joffrey?" she asked excitedly, reaching out her arms towards him. A futile attempt, of course, the man in front of her easily doubled her height.
"No, mother, let me go first! I'm the strongest, I won't let him fall!" her twin brother vociferated.
"I won't let him fall either!" she countered.
Her younger brother joined in the pleas, arguing that he had the right because he was the youngest. Soon, the words melded into an indistinguishable uproar, as all three clamored in unison.
"No, no, no" her father hastened as Harwin turned his back to them, trying to prevent the disturbances from reaching the ears of the newborn.
"I think you left your septa waiting, my little lady, and back to the dragon pit for you two, before they send out a search party" he ushered the three younger ones out of the room, and gently pushed their shoulders, guiding them down the hallway. First, towards the room she had left only minutes ago, where her septa awaited along with Helaena, her mother's younger sister.
Her father left her at the door, and the expression on her face, the one she believed she was successfully hiding, betrayed her. Laenor crouched down to her height, gently taking her cheeks in his hands, making her look at him.
"You know, Leana had an egg that didn't hatch... and she didn't ride a dragon until she was five and ten. Now she rides Vhagar," he tried to cheer her up, "your time will come, dear daughter, I promise."
She was filled with hope at her father's promises. He always had the right words. She thanked the man she loved so much with a kiss on the cheek, and now with renewed energy, she entered the room.
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Despite the repeated complaints from the septa, they remained on the floor; she leaned her back against the wall, while Helaena rested her head on her legs. She explored the pages of the book while playing with her hair, and when a passage caught her attention, she read it aloud to her aunt, who entertained herself by watching a long insect walk on her hands. They didn't share the same interests, not even could it be said that they understood each other, but they enjoyed each other's company and were grateful of having another princess of almost the same age as a confidante.
"This one has 60 rings and two pairs of legs on each. That's 240" remarked Helaena.
"Yes, you're right, I think... Did you know that Vhagar is 170 years old?" she responded, her eyes widening at the new information. "That's exceptional."
"The last ring doesn't have legs," Helaena pointed out, overlooking her niece, more interested in the insect "it has eyes, though I don't believe it can see."
She furrowed her brow. "Why is that so?"
"It's beyond our understanding."
She didn't know how much time they had spent in that position, but when she shifted her attention from the book due to noises approaching from the corridors, she noticed that the septa had already left and in her place was Alicent. The new companion was sitting a few meters away from them, holding a cup of tea and with her gaze lost in the window.
Suddenly, two king’s guards burst into the room, each holding one of Aemond's arms, alarming her.
"Your grace" they left without waiting for any response, closing the doors behind them.
"Aemond, what have you done?" Alicent approached him quickly, scrutinizing him, and exclaimed exasperatedly while gripping his shoulders firmly, "after how many times you’ve been warned, must I have you confined to your chambers?"
"They made me do it!" the young prince shouted in his defense.
"As if you needed encouragement. Your obsession with those beasts goes beyond understanding" she furrowed her brow again upon noticing the same phrase that had come out of Helaena's mouth minutes ago.
Returning her attention to the argument in front of her, she noted that the prince's platinum hair and his green garments were stained black. Realization fell into her, she widened her eyes, astonished. Had he really ventured into the dragon pit? Alone?
"They gave me a pig!"
"A what?" the queen asked.
"They said they found a dragon for me, but it was a pig" detailed, his voice breaking slightly.
She knew Aegon and she knew her brothers, and even though she was certain the last two had only been pawns used in the prank, a mixture of anger and disappointment washed over her. How could they tease and deceive the good prince in such a way? Worse still, with something that was also the cause of her tears.
"If he wants one, he'll have to close one eye" the princess beside her said, her gaze still fixed on the tiny entity. She spoke loud enough for only her to hear.
Her words were puzzling, and she didn't know how to interpret them. They could either indicate that she was still in her little world or suggest something deeper; it wouldn't be the first time for either option. She had heard her say... things before; at first, they seemed like mere nonsensical words, and suddenly something happened, something that reminded her of her words, something that led her to believe that her aunt had some kind of magic. No one had paid much attention to her when she shared her theory, dismissing it with disdain, saying they were just coincidences. But to her, it seemed like more than mere chance connections.
"Everyone laughed" Aemond murmured, trying to hide his sadness. Her anger now replaced by deep empathy. Alicent wrapped her arms around him, stroking his back.
The prince looked just as distressed as he left the hug and walked away as he did when he entered. It reminded her of her own feelings of desolation and loneliness, and she thought that there was no one in the kingdom who could understand her like he did. Not really.
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She always had a special connection with Jace, a twin connection, as they enjoyed calling it. They understood each other with just looks, laughed at the same jokes, and shared the same tastes, except for the obvious; he loved his sword, she preferred her books. On the other hand, Luke had always been her little and spoiled one, her sweet and innocent child. That's why the situation had affected her so much. She didn't believe her brothers had meant to hurt Aemond, but they did anyway. They were insensitive, and she didn't want to see them grow up like Aegon, who with his character showed that he didn't know the true meaning of consequences.
It had been a few days since the incident in the pit and the birth of her brother, who was under the care of Diana, her mother's lady-in-waiting.
She tried not to lift her gaze from her plate and ate in silence, ignoring her brothers, offering them only monosyllabic responses. She was furious and intended to make it obvious. She huffed in frustration, trying to get her mother's attention so she could bring up the issue to the table.
"My dear, what troubles your mind?" she heard her mother ask as she gave her arm a gentle squeeze.
"Mother, have you heard about the incident in the dragon pit?" noticing her mother's concerned and confused look, she hurried to reassure her, "no one is hurt... not physically, at least."
"What happened?" her mother looked inquisitively at her sons, their heads looking down, ashamed.
"Jace, Luke, and Aegon played a prank on Prince Aemond. They told him they had a dragon for him and gave him a pig with wings, they even named it! Pink Dread." The children couldn't contain their laughter at the memory, which only made her angrier.
"Is that true?" her mother asked, wiping the smile from both their faces. It wasn't common to hear her upset or see her with a serious expression.
"It was just a joke!" Jace tried to justify.
"Aegon planned it!" Luke interjected.
"I don't want to hear justifications" she silenced them. "What if that joke had been towards your sister? Would you still be laughing?"
"It's different" Jace muttered, while Luke's lip trembled in a pout.
"No, it's not. Tomorrow during training, you will offer the appropriate apologies. From the heart. Aemond is family, and we must look out for each other. Isn't that so?"
"Yes, mother" they chorused, serious and repentant.
"Now you may retire to your chambers and think about what you've done," their mother pronounced, and before they could respond, she added, "no complaints." They nodded and left in silence.
"I think Aemond could use some kind words, don't you agree?" Rhaenyra suggested minutes later, breaking the silence. She responded with a smile, thanking her for understanding the importance of this to her. "Who better than you to do it?" She rose from her seat and embraced her gently, for she could see her still in pain. She planted a kiss on her forehead, the kind she cherished so much.
"Rest, mother. I'll ask the maester to make you some tea."
She smiled after hearing her daughter, thinking that any pain felt and to be felt would be an insignificant price to pay considering all she had gained. Jace, the next heir to the throne, who would reign with peace and intelligence; Luke and Joffrey, who would be the greatest and most honorable knights; and her daughter, her eternal and sweet companion.
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There was no need to ask questions; she knew where to find him. A few floors up was the library, her second room, her refuge, where the world became a little quieter and she could transport herself to other times, places and lives.
She ascended the long stairs quickly, and within minutes, she stood at the door. This hallway had always been one of the least traveled, practically deserted, except for them and the king’s guards. It seemed there weren't many avid readers in the keep.
They used to be at opposite ends of the table, immersed in each of their books. She had always wanted to talk to him, ask him what he was reading and maybe ask him to teach her High Valyrian. However, she never did; she had been too shy in his presence, and Aemond's distant form didn't help. Perhaps he was shy like her.
Or perhaps he simply didn't want to talk to her.
She tried to push those thoughts to the back of her mind as she entered the library. She smiled to herself when she saw she hadn't been wrong.
"Good morrow, uncle" she announced her arrival as she headed to the usual shelf and picked up the book she had left halfway through a few days ago.
"Good morrow, niece" he responded with his usual seriousness.
She walked to the table and hesitated. Should she sit closer to him this time? She didn't want to invade his space, but she also didn't believe that a conversation should start at a distance.
She arrived at the table before deciding and stood there for a few seconds. She ended up placing her book at the usual spot and sat down, feeling uncomfortable.
Why was she feeling this way? She wasn't the one who played a distasteful joke, besides, he was family; they had grown up together in the castle, it shouldn't be so difficult.
Suddenly, she felt warmth engulf her when she noticed Aemond looking at her, puzzled. With the book still closed, her cheeks turned red as she realized she had been staring at him all this time, lost in her thoughts. She mentally cursed herself and searched for the page she was on. He looked away, not saying a word.
Her mother had asked her to talk to him and she had really wanted to, so she didn't understand why she found it so hard to approach him.
She audibly sighed and abruptly closed her book. He did the same seconds later. As always.
It was curious; every time they were here, they seemed… united, connected in their readings; when she finished, he did too, shortly after. They put away their books, and he walked to the exit, hurriedly, and then held the door, patiently waiting for her to exit. They parted ways upon reaching the floor of their chambers, all without exchanging a word other than greetings or thanks.
The king and the queen did a good job with him and Helaena. She couldn't say the same about Aegon, unfortunately.
She knew it was only a matter of seconds before he got up from his chair, so, with her book in hand, marched towards him.
Aemond furrowed his brow; he didn't seem upset, rather bewildered by the new proximity when she took the seat to his right and opened her book again, an action he imitated seconds later.
She found it impossible to read; she observed the page, but the words blurred together as her mind was occupied with something else. How should she start? It was clear they had something in common. Two things, in fact. Long conversations weren't necessary to know it, so she ventured there.
She cleared her throat, trying to get his attention, without success. Then, timidly, she placed her hand on his, causing an immediate reaction.
He remained still, stunned by her movements. He just looked at her, with eyes wider than usual. It was then that she realized how different they were from the rest of their family. Her grandsire, her mother, Aegon, Helaena, they all had eyes as clear as the sky on a sunny day. But not him, his were darker, bluer, with a trace of purple in them. As deep as the sea, and as beautiful as a sapphire. His hair was straighter, platinum, and even softer, she would dare to say.
How she wished to have the Targaryen attributes, just as distinctive as they were beautiful. Another one of her biggest insecurities and sorrows. It wasn't uncommon for people to be surprised when they saw her and her siblings next to their parents, as they hadn't inherited such beauty. They were equally pale, but with a tumultuous mane, full of curls, of the darkest black and eyes sometimes green, sometimes brown.
Once again, she felt the red fill her cheeks, her gaze lost in him as her thoughts swirled.
"Do you know that my father's sister also had an unhatched egg? Just like us," she said, softly, looking him in the eyes and trying to comfort him, "now she's the rider of Vhagar, the oldest, largest, and most feared dragon in the entire kingdom." 
She waited for a response that didn't come. "I like to believe that our wait will be rewarded, don't you?" then added. He only nodded, almost imperceptibly, without taking his eyes off hers, "I wanted to apologize."
Now with a confused look, Aemond finally decided to respond, "why?"
"They shouldn't have done it... It was cruel." Understanding dawned on him.
"No need to apologize for something that you did not do, niece." She couldn't help but smile at his words. Was he always so serious and formal? She thought he was like an adult trapped in the body of a little boy. An old soul.
"Can I ask you something?" she inquired.
"Yes, of course."
"Did you really enter the dragon pit? Alone?" she asked, curious. She noticed his face changing, a smirk of pride forming, his lips curling up into a small smile as he straightened up in his chair, now more upright.
"Yes, I did."
"Did you see any?"
"Yes, but it was too dark to know which one..." he began, with a spark in his eyes, and noticing her attentive gaze, he decided to continue "it throwed fire in my direction" he added, her eyes wider than before, conveying her astonishment.
"Gods! You must have been so terrified."
"Not really" he simply responded.
"That was... you're incredibly brave, my prince. I wouldn't have had the courage" she said and received a wide smile in return. She had never called him "my prince" before and she had never seen him smile.
She continued to listen attentively. No history book had ever excited her as much as the prince's adventures, and seeing him so enthusiastic about telling them filled her chest with something she didn't know how to name. Something warm. She liked it.
Despite it being their first real conversation, and the first time they looked each other in the eyes, there was a mutual understanding, a connection, different, special. One that went beyond being dragonless riders or relatives raised under the same roof.
It seemed to her that only a few minutes had passed when she felt a knock on the doors and a voice announcing that it was supper time and Alicent awaited for her son's presence. Both of them showed disappointment at the interruption; he seemed to have so much more to say and she hadn't had enough of his words. She thought she could listen to him for the rest of her days.
"Forgive me, niece, I must have tired your ears," he said before standing up, "and I didn't ask about your stories; you must think me rude." His words elicited a laugh from her lips, as it couldn't be further from the truth.
"Not at all, I would have liked to keep listening to you. Besides, I don't have stories as brave as yours, and I wouldn't want to bore you to exhaustion" she replied.
Once they had put the books back in their place, they walked to the door.
"I do not think that's possible" Aemond communicated with his hand on the doorknob. There was silence as they descended the stairs with the guards behind them.
"Goodnight, my princess" he said once they reached the floor, calling her that way for the first time.
"Goodnight, my prince."
"Perhaps tomorrow we could... continue?" It came out almost as a whisper from Aemond's lips. A smile on hers.
"Nothing would make me happier."
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straykeedz · 8 months
Text
𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ; 𝐬𝐜𝐛
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𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐳 ; 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭/𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬
𝐭𝐰: female anatomy ; swearing; explicit mature content as in: oral sex & fingering (f receiving), unprotected piv sex (DON’T!!!), creampie; changbin calls reader princess during sexy time ; size kink i guess (reader is obsessed with changbin’s body, who can blame her???); thigh riding is mentioned; showering together; ♡
𝐰𝐜: 10,8k ;
🔖: @killzbabiexs ; ♡
check out my masterlist here ♡ check out the status of my wips here ♡
🗺️: 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬/𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!
⚡︎
Changbin is tired. 
He is tired of seeing you coming back after another unsuccessful date and sulk on your couch as if your life depends on some dude you met online. Or worse - seeing you hung up on some loser who ghosted you out of the blue. It drives him crazy. Plus, you only seem to find total jerks on that stupid app. Every time you show him a picture of a guy you’re talking to - Changbin has to fight the urge to roll his eyes at you and scoff. They’re all so… boring, and they look like total jerks - he’s convinced you deserve better.
Someone who would be by your side through thick and thin, somebody who would watch those sappy movies with you on the couch and who’d playfully make fun of your for crying when the characters finally together only to pull you close for a hug and smother you with kisses all over your pretty face. Someone like me, Changbin often thinks, but doesn’t dare to voice his thoughts - too scared to ruin things between you. 
Tonight, you come home earlier than he expected you to, and he immediately knows something must have gone wrong. It is only twenty past ten, so there’s no way your date has actually gone well, considering the guy’d picked you up only two hours before. 
You close the door with a loud thud, then remove your shoes without bothering to untie the laces. Changbin’s body jolts up and he quickly snaps his head in your direction at the sudden noise. He was sprawled on the couch, watching an episode of the series he’d recently started, and he was definitely not expecting you to come home so soon - otherwise he would’ve put on some decent clothes instead of lying there in just his blue sweats. 
“Why are you naked?”, you frown as you remove your jeans jacket and hang it on the wall together with your purse. 
Honestly - Changbin is shirtless a lot in your shared apartment, just never around you. At least, not intentionally. He’d usually go around like that whenever he is done with his workout session and right about to hop in the shower. Despite being your friend for years - Changbin still feels embarrassed to go around like that when you are in the apartment as well. 
“Yah! I’m not naked!” Changbin protests, immediately turning away so that you are now facing his bare back and can’t see the way his cheeks are slowly heating up. Poor boy’s embarrassed. He immediately picks up his t-shirt and puts it back on, then turned to face you once again, hoping you won't notice how flustered he is. “Besides, why are you here so early?”
You sigh, and he immediately understands. So he sits up on the couch, pauses the tv show and pats the cushion, inviting you to sit next to him. Once you sit down, you immediately lean you head on his shoulder, and he puts an arm around your shoulders, pulling you even closer. 
“Do you wanna talk about it?”, he tests the waters. 
You shake your head as a no. “Not really.”, you murmur. “I’m just disappointed, I guess. Thought the date was going fine.”, you let out a heavy sigh. 
Changbin remains silent, not really knowing what to say that could make you feel better. He’s well aware that your hopes on that date were high, and it really crushes him to see you so disappointed and hurt over some jerk. 
“Maybe it’s just me.”, you blurt out. 
Changbin is confused. “What do you mean?”, he asks. 
You lift your head from his shoulder and gently pull away, letting his arm fall back on the couch. “Maybe I am the problem.”, you clarify. “There must be something wrong with me.”
Changbin is now staring at you with wide eyes and his mouth agape. He must’ve misheard you, there’s no other plausible explanation. There’s no way you actually said that. And he can’t help but wonder why would you only go out with jerks who make you think you’re not good enough for them. 
“Yah, stop that right now.” Changbin scolds you and you frown. “Don’t ever think you’re the problem when that jerk dropped you off without even giving you a proper explanation.”
“But-“
“No buts. You’re beautiful and you’re funny and you’re smart and I’m sure he was the problem.” Changbin insists. 
“How are you so sure?”, you quirk an eyebrow at him. 
Your friend looks at you through his thick glasses as if you just asked him the most stupid question ever. 
“Because you’re my friend? Duh.” Changbin shrugs. 
Friend. That word brings you back to reality. That’s what you are to him, his friend. Sure, he’s your friend too, but recently you’ve started seeing him as something more than a friend and roommate - you’ve fallen for him. 
That’s why you’d desperately tried to date during the past few weeks - to try to get over your stupid crush, because you most definitely couldn’t risk fucking your friendship with Changbin up. He’s been a part of your life for years now, and you wouldn’t wanna lose him due to a silly crush. Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? It’s just your stupid brain playing tricks on you and letting you believe you could actually be with him - for real. 
“That’s not an explanation, tho.”, you remind him. “Maybe it is me. Maybe I’m too stiff or awkward or… I don’t know, there must be a reason why they don’t call me back.”
Truth be told - you know. You know the reason why your dates always end the same way - because you keep comparing them to him. To Changbin. But in the end - nobody compares to him.
Changbin gets closer to you, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You mentally scold yourself when you feel your stomach jump at the sudden proximity. Yeah, you should really get over your silly crush, it’s starting to become ridiculous. 
For a moment, you let yourself believe he’s about to kiss you on your forehead like he always does when he’s trying to cheer you up, so you close your eyes in anticipation, like it happens in those romantic movies. What if he kissed you on the lips instead? How would his lips feel against yours?
But you don’t get to feel that, and you don’t get to feel his lips on your forehead either, because Changbin unexpectedly flicks you. Right on your forehead, making you wince in pain. 
“Ow!”, you open your eyes only to find him laughing like an idiot. You glare at him, then hit him with a pillow. “What’s wrong with you? Why would you do that?”, you whine, rubbing the spot where he just flicked you. 
He eventually stops laughing, but he’s still grinning. You roll your eyes at him. 
“Because you have to stop overthinking things.”, he says. 
As if it were simple, you want to say. If you could stop overthinking things, your life would be much easier. Changbin is probably the most laid back person you know, and he rarely worries too much about things. He rarely even opens up about his life, mostly because he doesn’t let the things than happen to him negatively affect his life or his thinking. You wish you could be like him. 
“I know.”, you sigh, leaning back on the soft cushion. “I can’t help it. It’s just been so long since I’ve last had a proper date, you know? Maybe I’m just too rusty and I forgot how to flirt or something. Maybe there’s just something I do wrong.”, you point out.
Changbin looks like he has something on his mind. You know that face, where his eyes are slightly closed and he’s looking at you through his glasses while biting his cheek. Yeah, he’s definitely onto something. 
“I’ll take you on a date.”
You freeze in your spot, looking at him with wide eyes. What? Are you imagining things or has he just asked you out on a date? Oh, this is not good for your get-over-your-stupid-crush plan. 
“What?”, is all you manage to get out. 
“I’ll take you on a date.” Changbin repeats as if the most normal thing in the world, and you can now feel your heart hammering in your chest. “If you’re that worried there’s something wrong with you, I can help you with that. We’ll go on a date and we’ll have fun and that’ll show you there’s nothing wrong with you or your flirting skills.”, he explains his evil plan.
Oh. 
A little voice inside your head is telling you to decline his offer because this is dangerous territory. You’re already crushing on the guy, how is going on a date with him - even if it’s not a real one - make the situation any better? But of course Changbin doesn’t even suspect a thing, and being the sweet and caring friend he is, he just wants to genuinely help you. 
What he doesn’t know, tho, is that it’ll probably only make things worse for you. 
“You don’t have to do that.”, you quickly say. “You don’t have to take me out just because my love life is miserable.”
“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” Changbin clears his throat and quickly adds “I mean, I want to help you. You know, boost your confidence and stuff.”
How are you supposed to decline his offer now? If you think about it - it’s just a date. Nothing has to happen. He’s Changbin, you’ve known him for years, what could possibly go wrong?
“Fine.”, you eventually give in. 
Changbin looks at you surprised, as if he was expecting you to turn down his offer. He looks taken aback, but a smile spreads on his face nonetheless. “Okay then, I’m taking you out tomorrow night.”
Tomorrow? Isn’t that a bit too soon? You still need time to figure all of this out! Maybe it’s like ripping off a bandaid, the quicker the better. You’ll go out with your best friend Changbin like you’ve done plenty of times before - except this time it’s a date.  
“Okay.”
“Good.” Changbin smiles at you. “We’re going on a date.”, he repeats, then gets up from the couch.
“Where are you going?”, you ask confused. 
“To bed. Have to get up early tomorrow.” Changbin explains. “Goodnight, y/n.”, he then place the long yearned kiss on your forehead. “Sleep tight.”
⚡︎
You forget about the whole date-with-Changbin thing. 
Well, it’s not like you forget about it - you just don’t take it too seriously. Changbin often jokes and stuff, so you brush his offer off as one of his jokes and just don’t think about it for the whole day. Plus, when he left earlier in the morning, he didn’t mention anything about tonight, so you just assumed he wasn’t serious about it. You don’t know whether you should feel relieved or not. 
You just forget about the whole thing - that is, until you exit your room to go refill your water bottle and spot Changbin in your shared bathroom getting ready in front of the mirror. He’s wearing a white shirt, sleeves rolled up his elbows, and tight black pants. You stare a little too long, and he eventually acknowledges your presence outside the bathroom. 
“Yah!”, he raises his voice, snapping his head in your direction as he takes in your figure. “You’re not ready? Aish…”
You look at him with wide eyes. You’re not ready. In fact, you’re far from ready. Your hair is messily styled into a ponytail and you’re dressed in an oversized t-shirt and some shorts.
“I- I thought you were joking.”, you stutter. 
“You better start getting ready, then. We’re leaving in less than one hour.” Changbin informs you as he sprays his cologne on his wrists and neck. “And you better start thinking of this as a real date!”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him as you go back in your room and open every single drawer in your closet, desperately looking for something decent to wear, but none of your clothes seem to be appropriate. Boring, old, boring and old, too slutty, too ugly. Yeah, you really need to declutter some of your clothes and buy new ones. 
You eventually opt for a pair of black pants and a white, long sleeved top. Casual is how you’d define your outfit. Not too elegant, not too shabby. When it comes to the choice of your underwear, Changbin’s words resonate in your head. 
You better start thinking of this as a real date, he said.
Now, if you were to go on a real date, you’d go for matching bra and panties, hoping to end your night with something more than a goodbye kiss. But then again, you’re going out with Changbin tonight, and it’s not like he’s going to see your underwear -  because deep down both of you know it’s not a real date. But since he isn’t going to see your underwear - there’s no harm in actually matching it, is there? He’s never gonna know anyways, and it’s not like you’re doing anything wrong, it’s just underwear. 
You return to the bathroom with your clothes in your hands, neatly folded. Changbin’s still staring at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair. You can’t help but notice how handsome he is - white shirt slightly unbuttoned, tight pants wrapped around his muscular thighs, the sight is enough to make you drool. 
“I have to shower.”, you announce, clearing your throat. You only have one hour to get ready, and you still have to do your hair and makeup. 
“Oh, right. Sure.” Changbin mutters, before proceeding to leave the bathroom. 
As he does so, he involuntarily takes a glimpse of your underwear - which you’d put right on top of your clothes -, and he hopes you miss the way his eyes widen and his breath hitches as he feels himself getting red in the face. Without uttering another word, he leaves the room, closing the door behind him. 
⚡︎
Changbin is a true gentleman - you find out. 
He waited for you by his car, complimented your outfit as soon as he saw you, greeted you with a kiss on the cheek even though there was no need to since you technically live together, then opened the car door for you and closed it after he made sure you were comfortably seated in his car. 
So far, you can say you’re genuinely impressed. The last guy you went out with hadn’t even bothered to turn the engine of his car off and just honked a couple times to let you know he’d arrived. 
“Where are you taking me, my knight?”, you joke, and Changbin rolls his eyes at you as he fastens his seatbelt. 
“Yah, stop making fun of this!”, he whines. “You’re not taking this seriously!”
You can’t help but giggle at his pouting, and it only annoys Changbin even more. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. No more teasing, got it.”, you promise. “Now, where are you taking me?”
Changbin doesn’t answer you - he turns on the engine of his car instead. You only discover your destination when he parks his car about fifteen minutes later. Meanwhile, he let you put the music directly from your playlist - which is something he never does because, quote “My taste in music is better than yours anyways.” It must be your Passenger Princess - as Changbin called you - privilege, you guess. 
For your date he brought you to eat ramyeon, and he didn’t choose a random place for that. You’re genuinely surprised he remembered. A couple of weeks ago you told him you were craving ramyeon so bad. You had asked him if he remember that specific restaurant where you’d eaten one time, claiming that they made the best spicy ramyeon there.
Of course Changbin remembered that day - it was the first time he thought of you as something more than a friend. You were supposed to go out with your friends too, but they’d all bailed on you last minute - so you and Changbin found yourselves alone in the crowded restaurant. Even though you were alone even back then - it feels different now. Right now, you’re on a date. 
“You remembered!”, you look at him with your mouth agape as soon as you spot the neon sign of the restaurant. 
Changbin parks the car and unfastens his seatbelt. He looks at you surprised. “Yah! Of course I remembered! Unlike you, I actually pay attention when somebody’s talking to me.”, he teases.
You roll your eyes at him and playfully push him. You’re about to open your car door, when Changbin lets out a loud “Yah!”, and you immediately halt your movements and look at him confused. 
“I’m supposed to open it for you.”, he explains. 
You can’t help but giggle. “Changbin, there’s no need to, I can do it myself.”
“No, no, no.”, he shakes his head dramatically. “You’re the Passenger Princess, remember?”
You can’t help but blush a little as soon as you hear those words, but it’s dark outside, so you hope he won’t notice. He swiftly gets out of the car, and opens the car door by your side in record time. For a moment, you wonder how cool would it be if you and Changbin were actually together - a couple - and went on dates on a regular basis. 
Yeah, you have a feeling you could get used to the feeling. 
“Take my hand.”, Changbin’s voice brings you back to reality. 
Changbin is standing in front of you, handsome as ever, with the sleeves of his white shirt - your favorite - rolled up his sleeves, his hand outstretched, waiting for you to place your hand on top of his. As you do so - you feel a shiver run down your spine, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way your body tenses up when he squeezes your hand in his. 
Changbin seems to be skilled in the dating department. He opens the door of the restaurant for you, helps you take off your jacket and asks you what you want to eat - even though he knows well your favorite ramyeon is definitely the buldak one. He even orders a carton of milk in case it’s too spicy. 
Thoughtful and caring - that’s what Changbin is, and that seems to mess with your plan of getting over him. Now that you’re getting a taste of what dating him would be like, you find yourself craving for more. You want more dates and more car rides and more Passenger Princess privileges and more and more and more. 
Maybe this whole fake-real-date thing was a bad idea from the start, and you shouldn’t have listened to Changbin’s words - because there’s no way today’s date is actually going to help you. In fact, you fear it’s going to set the bar a little too high for your future dates. 
“So…”, he starts, grabbing his chopsticks from the table and putting the napkin on his knees to avoid staining his pants just in case. “Tell me about you.”
You look at him dumbfounded - chopsticks in your hand as you’re about to take a mouthful of ramyeon. “What?”, you ask. 
Changbin takes his time to savor and swallow his ramyeon. Then, he clarifies. “Tell me about you. What do you do for a living, what are your hobbies… Stuff like this, you know?”
You’re confused. “Changbin…”, you clear your throat that’s currently burning due to the extremely spicy sauce. “We live together. You know what I do for a living.”
He sighs. “It’s a date, y/n, I’m supposed to ask you these questions!”, he groans. 
“But it’s not a real date! And you already know these things!”, you protest. 
He glares at you as he brings his chopsticks back to his mouth and continues eating his ramyeon. 
“Fine.”, you sigh, twisting the noodles in your plate with your chopsticks. “I’m a full-time kindergarten teacher, I work at a private school not far from Seoul.”, you start. “Hobbies, mh?”, you pause for a second. “Definitely painting. I love painting, I find it relaxing.”
Changbin smiles, pleased that you decided not to be a buzzkill and finally answer his questions.
“Kindergarten, huh?” Changbin rhetorically asks as he takes his time to refill both yours and his glasses with fresh water. “You must love kids, then.”
You nod. “I do. They’re so cute and full of surprises, you know? Every day I discover a new thing about them.”, you say with a smile on your face. 
Changbin knows you love your job - of course he does. It makes him happy to hear you talk about how much you love your job and to see you happy nonetheless. 
“I’m sure you’re a wonderful teacher, and I’m sure those kids love you.”, he says, a shy smile on his face. “So,” he clears his throat. “Painting! You have to let me see one of your masterpieces one day, then. Maybe I could be your muse, you could paint me.”, he smirks. 
Is he… flirting?
You chuckle. “I wouldn’t call them masterpieces, but sure - I’d be happy to show you.”, you look at him through your eyelashes, kind of intrigued by the conversation you’re having. “I don’t live by myself, though, so I have to make sure my friend won’t be around, you know?”, you wink.
“Oh, you live with a friend?”, he plays along and even pretends to be surprised. 
“Mh-hm”, you hum in agreement. “He’s a pain in the ass.”, you chuckle. 
“Yah!” Changbin exclaims, before he realizes he’s fallen right in your trap. He clears his throat, “I mean - I’m sure he’s not that bad, is he?”
Maybe you should tease him a little, just for fun. 
“He always leaves his things around the apartment. And he never does the dishes. Sometimes he even eats my food.”
“Your f-“, he clears his throat once again. “Yah, he sounds quite annoying. But I’m sure he’s funny and cute.”, he says confidently. 
“Mh, not really.”, you let out a loud laugh at his shocked expression, covering your mouth with one hand. “Nah, I’m kidding, he’s a cool guy. It’s real fun living with him, I really like having him around.”, you admit, blushing a little. 
You don’t notice it - but Changbin blushes too. 
“Now tell me about you, Changbin.”, you tease him by asking him the same thing he’d asked you. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a chiropractic.”, he promptly says. “But I also work as a part-time personal trainer  on Tuesdays and Fridays.”, he adds. “Whenever I got some free time I just workout. I usually do it at home, though.”
You know Changbin works out - of course you do. He usually does it in his own room, he just puts on some music and doesn’t exit his bedroom for at least an hour, all sweaty and ready to get rid of his sticky clothes and hop in the shower. You know he does it, but you’ve never seen him at work, and you’d be lying if you said it wouldn’t intrigue you to see him all sweaty and out of breath and -. 
Seriously, what is wrong with you? You’re in the middle of a dinner date and you’re fantasizing about a man when said man is right before you. Said man is also your friend and roommate, by the way. 
“I would have bet on it.”, you squeeze his arm that’s currently resting on top of your table. “There’s no way a man could be so fit and not be a personal trainer.”, you say, a bit flirty. “Maybe you could show me a couple of exercises I could do…”, you bat your eyelashes at him, flirting back. Two can play this game, right?
Changbin is shook and doesn’t know how to react. First, there’s your hand squeezing his forearm. Then, there’s you flirting with him. 
“I- uh…”, he clears his throat. “Sure, I can teach you some… stuff. Not that you need to workout, anyways. You look beautiful the way you are.”, he flirts back.
“Thank you.”, you wink at him. “You’re pretty beautiful yourself.”
The rest of your dinner proceeds like this - Changbin flirting with you and you flirting back. You’re enjoying the little attention he gives you, but wonder whether you made a wise choice, agreeing to this absurd idea your Changbin came up with. However, this might be the only chance you get to have him this close and to receive this kind of attention from him, so you don’t worry about it too much. You plan on enjoying the lingering touches, the shy smiles and the flirting as much as possible, because you know that once the date is over you won’t get to experience any of that again.
“This is fun.”, you casually comment.
“What’s fun?”
“This - the date.”, you clarify. 
“I’m having fun too.” Changbin chuckles as he runs one hand through his dark hair. “I told you the problem’s not you.”
Your breath gets caught in your throat - he’s so handsome. One of the hottest men you’ve ever seen, if you have to be honest. And it’s not just the looks - his physical appearance is just a bonus. He’s got the whole package also personality wise. He’s fun and kind and a true gentleman - he’s a good friend and listens to you, he’s honest when it comes to giving advice, he’s just perfect. It’s going to be so hard to go back to dating ordinary men after having had a taste of what dating Changbin would be like, you can’t help but think. 
“It’s just easy with you because I’m comfortable around you.”, you honestly say. 
He looks slightly taken aback by your confession. “Were you not comfortable around those guys?”, he asks. You shake your head as a no. “Oh. Then you shouldn’t go out with guys who make you uncomfortable.”
You should go out with me. For real., a voice inside Changbin’s head screams.
⚡︎
On your way back home, you scolded Changbin for paying the restaurant check, claiming that he didn’t have to, claiming that “It’s not a real date, you don’t have to pay.”. “I want to.”, he’d answered, before pulling out his credit card from his wallet. You eventually agreed to that under one condition: “Next time, dinner’s on me.”, you’d said. Only now you do realize what those four words imply: another date. 
And you’ll probably never know - but that’s why Changbin was smiling like an idiot on your way back to the car and during the whole ride home. 
Changbin stops his car and turns the engine off. “We’re here.”, he announces. 
“Is this how you usually end a date?”, you tease him. 
“No, I usually walk the girl to the door.” Changbin says, then he grins at you. “Are you finally admitting this is a real date?”, he teases back, wiggling his eyebrows. 
You playfully push him and roll your eyes at him pretending to be angry when you’re really not. You’re far from angry - in fact, you’re so happy you don’t want tonight to end, but you can’t tell Changbin that. “Yah! As if…”, you scoff. “I was just thinking - since you asked me to think of this as a real date - that we better do this right.”
You do have a point, Changbin realizes.
“Right.”, he agrees. “I’ll walk you to the door then.”
Like the true gentleman he is - Changbin opens the car door for you once again, for the fourth time tonight, ignoring your protests. Sometimes you seem to forget how stubborn he is. 
When he walks you to the door - you both stare at each other awkwardly. What are you supposed to do now? This is the part of a date where a couple usually shares their first kiss or voices their desire to meet again, but you and Changbin are not a couple, and this isn’t a date. Even though you liked to pretend it was all real - both of you know it wasn’t. 
You can’t help but think Changbin looks handsome right now, standing in front of you with his hands in his pocket and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up his arms, showing his forearms. You feel like a creep when you think about it - but you really got a thing for Changbin’s arms. They’re so muscular and buff and thick and you just can’t stop staring at him whenever he doesn’t notice. 
“Right, uhm…” Changbin hums, unsure what he’s supposed to do now. 
In the end, he decides to go for the safest option, so he cups your face with his big hands and leans in. For a moment there, you think he’s going to really kiss you - place his plump lips on top of yours and give you a breathtaking kiss, so you close your eyes in anticipation. Instead, he places his soft lips on your forehead, and he lingers. 
Your heart is hammering hard in your chest - even though it’s not the kiss you were secretly hoping to receive, it still feels amazing and different from all the previous times he’d kissed you on the forehead before. This time it feels more intimate, so you find the courage to wrap your arms around his buff figure, hands now resting on his broad shoulders while his hands are still cupping your face and his lips are still pressed against your skin. 
It feels so intimate and so magical, and you can’t think of anything else besides - “I love you.”
You feel Changbin’s body freeze under your touch as soon as he registers your words, and you can’t believe you just said that out loud. Like, for real. You just told Changbin you love him. Changbin. Your friend and roommate Changbin. The guy you’re currently on a fake-real-date with. You just told him you love him. This could either ruin what you have forever or potentially turn into the best thing that’s ever happened to you. 
So, you take a deep breath. You’re really doing this.
“I’m in love with you, Changbin.”, you clarify - you want to make sure he doesn’t misunderstand your words and think you love him just as a friend. “Have been for a while now. I didn’t want to ruin what we have - I didn’t want to risk losing you.”, your voice trembles. “But tonight - I guess this whole fake date thing messed with my head more than it should’ve. So yeah - I love you.”
It’s a shitty confession, you’re aware of that. To be honest - you weren’t even planning on confessing to Changbin, like, ever, so you’re surprised you even found the courage to try to put your thoughts into words. 
He doesn’t react at first, still frozen in his spot with his hands on your face, and you mentally prepare yourself for the upcoming rejection. When you hear him inhale deeply through his nostrils and pull away from you, you squeeze your eyes shut - a scarce attempt to get ready for the words you’re sure you’re about to hear.  
“Y/n.”, he says instead, voice calm, tho a bit quivery. “Yah, open your eyes.” You really don’t want to, but you do it anyways. You decided to pour your heart to him - which means that now you have to be mature about it and find in yourself the courage to face him. You open your eyes and snap your head up to meet his without uttering a single word - you’ve said too much already. “Is it true?” Changbin’s words come out in a whisper. 
You just nod slowly, not breaking the eye contact, and you don’t miss the way his breath gets caught in his throat. 
“You’re really in love with me? You’re not- You’re not messing with me, are you?”, he rambles and desperately tries to swallow the lump in his throat as his brain processes what’s happening. 
“I’m not messing with you.”
He leans forward and presses his forehead against yours - his hair tickles your skin, and your heart starts beating faster in your chest. “Can I kiss you?”, he whispers, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.
“Yes.”
You feel your legs buckle when he finally presses his lips against yours. His lips feel as heavenly as you imagined, and you can’t believe you’re finally kissing him. It’s chaste and innocent at first, but when you pull him closer, he takes it as a sign to deepen the kiss. Then you feel his tongue gently brush against your lower lip and you feel like your legs are about to give in for good. As you kiss, he moves his hands from your face to your waist, not pulling away as you practically make out on your porch. 
It’s you who breaks the kiss first, resting your forehead against his as you try to regain your breath - still a bit dazed from the mind-blowing kiss. His hands are still on your waist, fingers gently squeezing you as you’re trying to find the courage to ask him the next question. “Do you… want to come in?”, you whisper on his lips. 
He chuckles, “Of course I do, do you want me to sleep in the car?”
You realize he clearly didn’t understand what you were implying. You clear your throat, embarrassed - cheeks turning red. “No, I mean - do you want to come in?”, you repeat, hoping this time he’d get the message. 
He does, because his breath hitches as he freezes once again. He pulls away gently and finds you staring at him with big, doe eyes. He’s looking for any signs of uncertainty in your eyes, but can’t find any - you’re sure about it, you want him. And of course he wants you, too, how could he not? He’s crazy about you, has been for years but has always been too much of a coward to confess his feelings to you. 
“Are you sure?”, he asks you, and you nod vigorously, then peck his lips once more. 
⚡︎
Changbin is nervous. 
He’s about to sleep with you and the truth is - he’s scared. What if you don’t like it? What if he can’t make you cum? It’s a reasonable fear, isn’t it? After all, it’s your first time sleeping together - it usually takes time to figure out what your partner likes or dislikes. He’s slept with a few girls and he’s definitely experienced in the sex field - though he can’t help but feel a little self-conscious. He wants to make you feel good, he wants to pleasure you - he wants to live up to your expectations. 
You seem to sense his nervousness, because you break the kiss by gently pulling away from him. You’re laying on your bed and he’s between your legs - both of you still fully clothed, making out like a couple of horny teenagers. He’s propped up on his elbows, muscular chest against yours and you can feel his erection pressing against your inner thigh. 
“We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.”, you whisper on his lips, gently stroking away one lock of hair from his face. “We can just lie down and cuddle.”, you place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. 
Now - he feels even dumber than before, because all his awkwardness led you to thinking he doesn’t want this. As if he hasn't literally dreamed of this, as if he’s not crazy about you, as if he hasn’t spent the last months trying to figure out how to find the courage to pour his heart to you. 
“No!”, he almost shouts, and you giggle at his eagerness, which makes him blush slightly. “I mean - No, I want this. Very much.”, he says as he caresses your cheek with his knuckles delicately. “It’s just - I don’t want to mess it up.”, he admits. 
“You won’t mess it up.”, you reassure him, pecking his plump lips. 
His breath hitches in his throat once again when he feels your hands travel all the way to the hem of his shirt, until you place them underneath it - your cold fingers now touching his bare back and he hisses at the feeling. 
“Sorry. Cold hands.”, you giggle. 
He kisses your lips in response, then lets his own hand travel across your body until it reaches your hip, gently squeezing it through your clothes. It’s only when you move your hands to unbutton his shirt that he realizes - it’s happening. You’re about to undress each other and see each other naked and sleep together. It’s not his brain playing a trick on him, no - it’s really happening. That encourages him to slip one hand slip under the soft fabric of your top until he reaches one of your breasts, gently cupping it. You’re wearing a bra and he can’t really feel your nipples through the fabric, but it makes his dick throb in his pants nonetheless. 
“Take this off?”, you whisper as you unbutton another button of his shirt, revealing part of his collarbone. 
He nods quickly, retrieving his hand from underneath your top only to kneel between your thighs - desperately trying to unbutton his damn shirt as fast as possible despite his shaky hands. He eventually takes it off, letting it fly across the room without a care in the world. 
You bite down on your lower lip, then you lift up your body so that you’re now sitting on the bed, and take off your top as well. Changbin hisses at the sight of you in a bra - a sight he never thought he’d be able to witness. Then, your hands reach for the button of his pants, brushing against his clothed dick in the process and his breath gets caught in his throat.  
“You’re beautiful.”, he whispers, unable to tear his eyes off of you as you fidget with the zipper of his pants. 
You snap your head up to meet his eyes and smile at him - cheeks flushing red at the sudden compliment. Finally, you manage to undo his pants, revealing the waistband of his underwear. “Off.”, you whisper, leaving a series of chaste kisses from his navel to the fabric of his boxers, which makes him shiver. 
He gets up from the bed and so do you, unzipping your pants as well, letting them slide off your thighs, revealing your underwear to Changbin, whose eyes widen in shock as he slides his own pants off. 
“I know I already said it, but - you’re beautiful.”, he repeats, placing both of his hands on your waist and pulling you closer for a kiss - his cock is now pressing on your belly, painfully hard. “So perfect.”, he moves one hand to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as he begins to leave wet kisses on your neck. 
“Bin.”, you whimper when his lips reach your collarbone, gently sucking on the skin, careful not to leave any marks.
Changbin can’t help but groan and shut his eyes close as soon as he hears those words leave your mouth. It’s all real, he’s not dreaming. You’re really in his arms, he’s really kissing you - it’s not one of his dreams, it’s all real. You’re in your room, both of you in only your underwear, ready to discover each other’s bodies for the first time. 
There’s always some awkwardness lingering in the air the first time you sleep with someone - whether you’ve known the other person for years or they are total strangers, whether you’re inexperienced or have done this before. 
Now that Changbin is in front of you in only his underwear, all the confidence you previously had in you suddenly vanishes. What if you won’t live up to his expectations? What if it’ll be awkward? What if he doesn’t like it - doesn’t like your naked body? What if - after you sleep together - he realizes he doesn’t like you that way and wants to go back to being just friends and roommates? Will you be able to be just friends with him - pretend that nothing happened?
“Hey.”, he places two fingers under your chin and delicately lifts your head so that your eyes would meet - he sees it all in your gaze. “Now you’re the one who seems uncomfortable.”, he gives you a warm smile. 
“I’m not.”, you promise. You want this, you do want to sleep with him, you’re sure of that. It’s more the repercussions of your night together that scare you, not the act per se. 
“Good.” Changbin places a kiss on your lips. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me.”, he says, piercing eyes staring deep into yours. “I want you to be yourself when you’re with me - I want you to feel safe with me.”
You know you’re safe with him, and you feel definitely free to be yourself around him. That’s why you fell for him in the first place - he always makes you feel appreciated and understood, he’s a true angel. 
“I do.”, you promptly say. “I always feel safe with you - that’s why I love you.”, you whisper. He bites your lower lip once those words leave your mouth - as if those were the words he’d been dying to hear, and you yelp in surprise, but melt into the kiss. 
He squeezes your asscheek, then grinds his body against yours - your boobs now pressing against his pecs and his hard length positioned on your belly, right above your clothed core. Then, he pulls away from the kiss. 
“Lie down on the bed for me.”
You gulp, staring at him with wide eyes and parted lips. It’s as if your words have suddenly awakened something inside of him - a side of him you’ve never seen, for obvious reasons. He sounds impatient, desperate to feel more - to be as close as possible to you. 
You do as he asked, letting your back fall on the soft mattress as Changbin crawls on the bed an positions himself above you - his buff body hovering over yours, the palm of his hands at each side of your face as he stares into your eyes. You spread your thighs to welcome him between them once again - only this time you’re both almost fully undressed, only the thin layers of your underwear between you. He’s rock hard in the confines of his boxers just like you’re already dripping wet inside your panties - it’s mutual, you realize. 
“Can I taste you, princess?” Changbin whispers as his lips leave a series of wet kisses on your neck, making you shiver as you try to hold back a shameless moan. 
You want nothing more than for Changbin to eat you out - you’re sure you’ve even had a wet dream about this scenario, to be honest. You nod frantically, your hands roaming around his bare back, nails delicately scraping his skin. “Yes.”, you pant, and you feel his length twitch in response. 
He leaves a trail of kisses that goes from your neck to your navel and finally, he places a chaste kiss on the thin fabric of your panties - right on your clothed clit. Your hips buckle at the sudden contact, and don’t miss the way he chuckles. When he hooks his fingers to each side of your underwear and begins to pull down, you feel the urge to instinctively close your legs - suddenly feeling too exposed -, but he halts your movements by placing one hand on your knee.
“Are you feeling shy all of a sudden, princess?” Changbin asks, finally getting rid of your panties, letting the small piece of fabric fall on the floor. “Why is that so, mh?”, he rhetorically asks as he places a soft kiss on your knee. “Would it help if I was naked too?”, he mutters against your skin, leaving another kiss - this time on your inner thigh, slightly above your knee. 
“Yes.”, you whisper, but he hears you loud and clear. 
He chuckles, before pulling away from your body to kneel on the mattress - pecs and abs on full display. “What my princess wants, my princess gets.”, he says as he begins to slide his underwear down his thick thighs, revealing his painfully hard cock to you in the process, letting it slap against his abdomen. You’re staring, you’re aware, but - it’s big. And thick. You wonder how it’ll feel inside of you. 
He gets rid of his underwear and returns to where he previously was - between your legs, kissing your inner thigh. His kisses move closer and closer to where you need him the most, and you bite your lower lip when he kisses your groin - his hair brushing against your skin. He’s so close - a couple of inches away from your neglected core. 
But he doesn’t touch you there - because he’s a fucking tease. In fact, what he does is place a kiss on your other knee. Your eyes widen in pure shock, you can’t believe he’d make you squirm like that. He starts to leave kisses on your other thigh at an excruciatingly slow pace, teeth scraping your soft skin from time to time - roughly, but not too rough as to hurt you. He’d never hurt you. After what it feels like hours, he’s back at your groin - hair tickling your skin once again. 
You’re about to snap and beg him to do something, anything, when he places a delicate, chaste kiss on your pussy, earning a choked moan from you. You prop yourself on your elbows, not wanting to miss a sight like this - Changbin lying on his tummy, positioned between your legs as he licks his lips, ready to make his next move. 
He licks a long stripe that goes from your slit to your clit, before attaching his lips to your sensitive nub as he sucks delicately, going slow at first. He alternates kisses, sucks and licks in a delicious combination that has you kick your head back as your breath gets heavier and heavier - heart beating fast in your chest. 
“Can I?”, he pulls away from your clit with a grunt, and you’re about to ask him what, when you suddenly feel the pads of two of his fingers brushing against your slit, collecting some of the dampness between your legs. 
“Please.”, is all you manage to get out - with a heavy sigh. 
He inserts only one finger at first, making sure to go slow just in case. It feels weird to have another man’s finger inside of you - good weird, of course, you’re just not used to it. Your previous partners weren’t really fond of foreplay when it came to giving, and they’d rarely do that spontaneously. You’re barely accustomed to the feeling of having one of his long fingers inside of you - when you feel another one poking at your entrance, ready to slip in. 
“Gonna stretch you out real good, princess.” Changbin groans against your pussy, letting the other finger slip inside of you. “It’ll feel so good, I promise.”
It already feels good, you want to tell him, but you’re stopped by his tongue - swirling around your clit as he slightly bends his fingers inside of you. He sucks on your clit and at the same time he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, making sure his pads would brush against your g-spot every time. Once he’s sure he’s found the perfect spot - he just knows by the way you’d kick your head back and let out a chocked moan -, he stops thrusting his fingers completely. Instead, he moves just his pads, rubbing your sweet spot as he kisses and licks and sucks your clit in the meantime. He feels you clench around him, and it’s his signal to just don’t stop - to keep going, and that’s what he intends to do. 
“Changbin, I’m -“, you pant - you want to warn him you’re about to cum, but you don’t get to, because a particularly long suck on your clit, combined with the stimulation provided by his fingers, has you falling apart under his touch - releasing around his fingers with a series of whimpers as your toes curl and your hands grip on the sheets underneath you. 
“You were so good, princess.” Changbin praises you as he slowly removes his fingers, careful not to overstimulate you, before placing a single, chaste kiss on your clit as a well done. “You came so hard.”
“Now it’s your turn.”, you manage to get out - still heavily panting and trying to regain your breath, but you still want more. “I want to feel you.”
Changbin lifts his body up and kneels between your parted legs, resting one hand on your knee as he brings his fingers - the one that were buried inside of you - to his mouth, letting his tongue swirl around them as he licks them clean. “Taste so good, princess, can’t wait to find out how you feel wrapped around me.”
Your breath gets caught in your throat for the millionth time tonight, but you guess it’s the effect Changbin has on you. How are you supposed to remain calm and collected when your crush is currently between your legs, naked, after eating you out as if it was his last meal? 
“Do you happen to have a condom, princess?” Changbin’s voice brings you back to reality. 
Your eyes widen and you realize that no, you don’t have one - another proof of your lack of action lately. “No, I don’t.”, you admit. 
“I’ll go check in my room.” Changbin is about to get up from the bed, but you stop him by grabbing him by the wrist, halting his movements completely. 
“It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”, you whisper, feeling your cheeks heating up as soon as you say those words. “I’m clean - if you’re clean, we can do it without one.” 
Changbin looks taken aback and stares at you with wide eyes and mouth agape as his brain tries to process what you just said. You want him… to fuck you raw? 
“I’m clean, but… princess, are you sure? I can go check, it’s not a problem. My room’s right across the hallway.”, he wants to make sure you’re not feeling pressured or anything - because you’re not. If you want him to put on a condom he’ll go check in his room if he has one - hell, he’ll go to the nearest store and buy some if he has to. 
“I’m sure, Bin. I want to feel you.”, you whisper, and Changbin gulps hard. 
“Fuck - okay, princess.”, he mutters, positioning himself between your legs once again - in the mean time, you take off your bra in a matter of seconds, revealing your bare breasts to him. He wastes no time in capturing one of your nipples in his lips, gently sucking on it as he presses his body against yours - his muscular arms resting at each side of your body, cock rock hard pressing on your belly. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
You’re ready, you’re more than ready. So you tell him - it comes out in a whisper, and it sends a shiver down his spine. He shifts his weight on one arm and wraps his own fingers around the thick base of his cock, aligning its tip to your entrance. He looks into your eyes one more time in search for any sign of uncertainty or discomfort, but he can’t find any. Eventually, he starts to push in, and you feel the tip of his thick length part your folds slowly, entirely coated in your arousal. 
“Oh, God.” Changbin gasps once he’s fully settled inside of you - his cock stretching you out real good. It’s been a while since he had raw sex, so he needs to collect himself before he can finally start to thrust inside of you. “Give me a second, princess.”, he pants, face scrunched in pleasure of feeling your tight pussy wrapped around him. “You feel so good around me, you have no idea.”, he whispers on your lips. “So fucking tight."
Once he’s sure he won’t come on the spot as soon as he starts moving - he begins to roll his hips to meet yours. You wrap your arms around his buff figure, placing both of your hands on his back - gently scratching the skin with your fingernails, earning a series of deep grunts from him. He’s propped up on his elbows that are resting on each side of your face, and his face instantly falls in the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin as he bites gently on your collarbone. 
“You feel so good inside of me.”, you return the compliment - panting and whimpering as he moves in and out of you at a steady pace. 
It feels perfect inside of you, and without the layer of the rubber you’re able to feel all of him - his velvety skin, in contrast with how hard he is right now, the way it throbs inside of you as he pushes back inside, stretching you out real good. Your hands wander all over his body, but inevitably end up wrapping around his biceps, squeezing them tight as you let out a chocked moan at the feeling of his flexed muscles. 
“You like ‘em that much?” Changbin teases you, snapping his head up to meet your eyes, still thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy. 
You nod frantically, feeling even more aroused by his words. “Yes, God.”, you pant. “They turn me on so much.”
“Really?” Changbin snaps his hips faster at your confession. 
“Yeah.”, you whimper, kicking your head back in pleasure after a particularly hard thrust - Changbin’s hips colliding with yours. “They’re so big and… look so good on you. Look so hot.”
“Yeah?” Changbin pants as he leaves a series of wet, sloppy kisses on your neck - occasionally sucking on the soft skin. “I kinda figured that out, you’re always staring when I’m done working out.”, he chuckles.
“It’s not my fault.”, you whimper. “You look so hot in those snug shirts.”, you involuntarily clench around him when the image of Changbin post-workout pops up in your head, and he grunts when he feels your walls squeezing him.  
“What else do you like?”, he mutters against your skin - eyes closed shut in pleasure as he tries his best to last as long as possible, but it’s hard - you’re just so fucking hot.  
“Your thighs.”, you answer without hesitation - as if you’d been waiting for his question. “Look so fucking big and hot - makes me wanna ride them all the time.”, you’re not even paying attention to what you’re saying anymore - too lost in the moment, in Changbin’s lips on you, in his hips slamming against yours, in his cock twitching inside of you. 
“Fuck - you can’t say things like that.” Changbin snaps his head up to look at you. “You’ll make me cum.”
The desperation in his voice somehow turns you on even more - the thought of him trying to hold back in order to postpone his orgasm and last longer drives you crazy. You’re pleased to find out he’s as whipped as you are - both too caught up in the moment to think straight. 
“I want you to cum.”, you whisper on his lips and he hisses when he feels you clench around him - on purpose, this time, as you wrap your limbs around him. 
“But I want to last some more.” Changbin practically whines as his hips start to move more frantically when he feels you clenching around him - he’s close, and it’s all because of you. He thought he could bear with how tight you feel around him, how deep he is nested inside of you - but you whispering such things in his ear?
“Don’t you want to come inside of me?”, you whisper, squeezing his biceps harder. “You don’t want to fill me up?”
Changbin’s eyes widen as soon as he hears your words. Inside of you? You want him to - oh, fuck. The thought of filling you up has crossed his mind, but he never really thought he’d get to do that. He thought you wanted him to pull out when he was about to cum, he never really expected you to let him finish inside of you. The thought is driving him crazy, and before he can stop himself - he’s already cumming, hot spurts of his seed coating the insides of your walls as he releases with a deep grunt, not even thinking about halting the movements of his hips. 
“Fuck - I’m sorry, I-“, he mumbles incoherently as he continues to rock his hips until he’s sure he’s spilled until the very last drop. 
“It’s okay.”, you place a soft kiss on his forehead as he hides his face in the crook of your neck, clearly embarrassed even though there’s nothing to be ashamed of. “It was hot.”
Was it?, Changbin can’t help but wonder. He honestly doesn’t think that cumming that fast can be considered hot - especially since he didn’t even get you off. Sure, he made you cum before with his mouth and fingers, but he’s a bit disappointed in himself for acting like a horny teenager around you, for ruining your first time together.  At least that’s what he thinks - you don’t think he ruined it. In fact, you think the total opposite. 
“I’m sorry. I didn’t make you cum.”, he mutters against your skin, sounding a bit guilty. 
“It’s fine.”, you reassure him, running your hand through his hair, gently tugging at it as you rubbed his bare back with your other hand. “Besides, you did make me cum earlier.”, you remind him. 
“Yeah, but not when I was inside of you.”, he whines. 
You don’t care about that, you know it’s not that important. Sex is made up of different factors and situation, and it’s not always the same - even if it’s with the same person. You know that getting off doesn’t always have to be the ultimate goal and that it can still feel good even if you don’t cum, so it’s not a problem for you. 
“It doesn’t matter, I still liked it.”, you place another kiss on top of his head. 
“You did?”, he sounds surprised, snapping his head up to meet your eyes to see if you’re lying - you’re not. 
“Mh-hm.”, you hum as you caress his hair, moving a couple of locks from his face. “Very much.”
Changbin feels a little more relaxed now, if he’s being honest with himself. He places a kiss on your lips before he shifts his body to remove himself from inside of you, kneeling between your legs. Once he pulls out, he can’t help but stare at your pussy - impatient to see his cum drip out of your hole and onto the sheets, hissing at the sight. His cum looks so good, leaking out of you - if cum can look good. 
You, however, are preoccupied with another thought. Where do you go from here? You’d told Changbin you love him and then you had sex, but he hadn’t said it back. He doesn’t feel the same way, it’s clear as day. You wonder whether you’ll be able to forget about tonight and pretend nothing happened between you - you wonder whether you’ll be okay with being just roommates from now on.
“I’m gonna go wash up.”, you mumble, not looking at him, sitting up on the mattress -  careful not to make a mess on the bed as you get up, retrieving a clean towel from a drawer to dry his cum. 
Once you leave the room and disappear in the bathroom, Changbin feels like the biggest idiot out there. He immediately noticed something’s off with you and he still didn’t do anything about it - he still hasn’t talked to you about what you’d said, the whole you-loving-him thing. And now you’re clearly upset and confused, and it’s all his fault - he needs to fix this, he can’t bear the thought of you being sad or hurt because of him. 
He quickly rushes to the bathroom as well, and knocks a couple of times on the wooden door. You don’t answer, though - you probably can’t hear him since the water’s running and you’re probably in the shower, but what he needs to tell you can’t wait, so he gently pushes the door open and covers his eyes - in case you don’t want him to see you like that, even though he’s still naked himself. 
“Changbin?”, you ask - you sound a bit surprised to see him there but it’s not like you’re shocked or anything. 
He’s still covering his eyes with his hand - which you find weird, considering he was literally inside of you less than ten minutes ago. He’s standing on the doorstep, not daring to come in just in case you don’t want him there. 
“What are you doing standing there? Come in.”
He gasps, taken aback by your offer. Come in? As in in the shower? With you? He’s pretty confused about the whole situation, but then he hears the noise of the shower door sliding open. He removes his hand from his eyes, and his gaze falls on your naked figure, standing in the shower - back facing him. He seems hesitant to hop in the shower with you, so you speak again. 
“Hurry, I’m freezing!”, you urge, and he finally takes a step forward -  and then two, three, four, until he’s entering the shower, the hot water drenching his body as he slides the shower door close behind him. 
Even though you kissed and had sex and he literally came inside of you - he’s still surprised about the intimacy of the act of showering together - somehow even more intimate than his dick in your pussy, if he’s being honest. This feels… domestic, the kind of thing a couple would do on a regular basis - and not two roommates, and it makes him happy, because he knows he hasn’t been seeing you as only his roommate in a while now. But you still wouldn’t turn your body to face him, so he guesses he better talk now - say what he’s been wanting to tell you for months. 
“Y/n?”, he calls your name quietly. 
“Mh?” 
You still won’t turn around, so he wraps his muscular arms around your figure, right below your naked chest as he presses his body against yours so that your back is now touching his chest - his mouth so close to your ear it sends a shiver down your spine, but it’s nothing compared to the words he voices out next. 
“I love you too.”
Your heart hammers in your chest when you hear those words - the words you’ve been dying to hear. You turn around and snap your head up to meet his eyes - brain short-circuiting as you’re trying to process his words. 
“What?”, you mumble, still in his arms. 
He smiles at you - red in the face, flustered. “I love you too.”, he repeats - now even the tips of his ears are turned red, he’s so cute. Yes, Changbin might be buff and muscular, but you know he’s secretly a softie - that’s why you like him so much, he’s got the whole package. “Sorry it took me so long to say it back."
His confession has tears well up in your eyes as you bury your face in his chest and wrap your arms around him, holding him tight. He places a soft kiss on the top of your head and gently caresses your back with his hands.
You stay like this for a while, under the hot stream of the water, in pure silence, embracing each other in a tight, heartfelt hug - both of you smiling and grinning like idiots. Idiots in love. Changbin’s soft hands gently brushing against your back and your head on his chest, allowing you to feel how fast his heart is beating in his chest. No words are needed, you love Changbin and he loves you too - words will probably ruin the magic of this precious moment you’re sharing together, a moment you’ve both been dreaming of.
⚡︎
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carrymelikeimcute · 7 months
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Going over the izzy/lucius/shark exchange is so interesting in the context of this being an episode about apologies. About making concessions and trying to fix things.
(In this ep there's a lot about ed making amends/accommodating the crew's triggers and trauma. It's also about stede having to fix things when he upsets the superstitious crew by not treating their feelings as valid.)
At the start we have Ed's (probably well intentioned) but evasive, non-apology. He does an 'I'm sorry you feel that way' sort of apology about 'whatever that bad stuff was'. It's a wish to do better, but it doesn't really cover what went before. A lot of people interject here, but Izzy remains completely still and silent, off to one side.
Lucius says he never used the word 'sorry' and rightly calls this out. Roach however, says he's never heard an apology before - and liked it - so this seems like as much as it's a first for Ed to take even some accountability, it's probably the first time some of the crew have seen a captain (or anyone else) do this too.
Archie says 'They just get away with it and we move on'.
Lucius rounds on Izzy, because obviously Izzy should have the biggest grievance here. But Izzy responds to the question about Ed's apology as if it was about piracy in general - clearly showing that the cycle of abuse is a feature, not a bug. This is part of his life and identity as a pirate. This is, actually, things going back to normal. You get whipped (and we see these scars on him later) no one apologises, and you just reset to how it was before, pretending nothing has been altered until it all bubbles over again.
Ed then tells stede that he's never apologised for anything. Confirming that most of the crew's responses are in line with their past experiences.
Then Ed goes to fix the door and tells it that it's not its fault that it's broken, it was just doing it's job. This directly parallels Izzy's rant to the figurehead about it failing to do it's job. Ed could be talking about himself here, as Izzy was talking about himself - but to me it doesn't fit that well, because what 'job' was Ed trying to do? He could instead be acknowledging, indirectly, that he is aware that Izzy was doing his job - trying to make sure they all survived and functioned as a crew. Ed probably broke that door, and he broke Izzy. But he has yet to talk to him about it.
Immediately following this, is when he scares the BEJESUS out of Lucius and tells him 'it would be faster to get all this out in one go'. It sounds like a reasonable suggestion, but we know that it doesn't actually work. Lucius pushes him off the boat and it doesn't help. Because 'I hurt you, so now you hurt me' doesn't benefit the abused, it's still about making the abuser feel better - making them feel punished and therefore redeemed, even when their victim isn't healed. I don't think Ed is trying to manipulate Lucius here - both of them think it might help to 'fix things' but fixing things takes emotional intelligence that's not really developed yet.
ENTER, THE SHARK
Izzy starts working on the shark, after the non-apology. He doesn't have it in the 'candle fighting' scene obvs - but he does receive an apology in that scene, when stede says 'feet' and then corrects himself to foot. It's a simple straightforward apology, even if he does sort of laugh awkwardly. Izzy also at least attempted to apologise to Stede in ep. 3 - so he clearly sees the use in apologies - AND right after the apology, Izzy agrees to help stede. Their relationship changes. It gets better and they're no longer stuck in those old patterns. Izzy is full-on gentle parenting stede - even when he shoots down a fucking sail.
He also, notably, states that the crew's feelings on the curse are important. Meaning, how the crew feels is important to him, period.
After this, we're back to Lucius throwing Ed overboard. But it doesn't work because Ed doesn't remember the talent show thing, he doesn't really know why Lucius was so blindsided by that betrayal of trust. It's not about who goes overboard. It's about the dynamics underneath that and those can't be fixed by just trading places for a moment.
FINALLY. We see Izzy finishing the shark, and he's completely unsurprised that Lucius pushing Ed into the water didn't fix things. Izzy's done this 'tit for tat' thing - betraying Ed to the English over being banished - and it ended terribly for both of them. It escalated things. He knows it's not as simply as getting even with someone.
The solution Izzy has chosen to the cycle of his relationship with Ed is to pretend that Ed hasn't done anything to him. A shark did it. Like with the non-apology, blame is being shifted to a third party 'the bad things' the 'bad times'. Lucius (rightly) points out that this is not healthy, but Izzy's response, that's better than not moving on, clearly resonates.
Izzy's response to being hurt was to 1. Get even and 2. (when that proved deeply unsatisfying and made things worse) to put the unresolved conflict behind him. Because he doesn't think Ed is ever going to apologise or change, and wanting those things just hurt more.
Anyone who has parents/a partner/friend who's NEVER apologised for anything, knows how he's feeling. You stop trying to have it out and fix the relationship, and it starts to wither, even though the other person thinks it's healthy.
'Not moving on is worse' is a warning, and it's one that Lucius takes to heart, immediately trying to centre positive things instead of resentment and anger. He shares his feelings with Pete, and their relationship thrives.
The issue here, is that denial doesn't work. Lucius might be able to move on from what happened to him without a proper apology from Ed, but that's because he's not in a relationship with him. Izzy's the one who's really in it with Ed - he's had DECADES of this shit. That can't be willed away.
Stede's resolution to the curse conflict models a healthier method and one that I'm hoping we see in a future episode between Ed/Izzy. He validates the crew's feelings, make a sacrifice (the suit) and TOGETHER they collaborate on a solution to the issue that is mutually satisfactory - he even gets to keep the shirt, as a sort of compromise. It isn't about just making stede or the crew feel better, it's about moving on together.
This happens with Ed and Fang! Ed actually apologises once he realises what, specifically he did wrong. Fang says they're 'sweet' because he beat Ed to death (oof) which outwardly seems like retaliation working - but there has also been an actual apology and Fang wasn't retaliating against Ed, he was standing up for himself - a physical version of saying 'that wasn't OK - you need to change'.
This method of resolution is echoed in the final scene, with stede and ed. They reach an understanding about the pace of their relationship and find a happy medium (holding hands) - mutually satisfied and moving forwards.
Bottom line? I hope we see 1. Ed actually apologise to Izzy and 2. the pair of them outline what it is they want to change in their relationship moving forward, ending the cycle for good.
Thank you for coming to my Ed talk.
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alastor-simp · 2 months
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Hugging Them Out of Nowhere - Lucifer Morningstar, Cherri Bomb, Vox and Valentino
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Here is the second part of the hugging headcanon with the other hazbin characters. I am going to try to make Valentino be a bit more approachable in this story since I know he is on this fandoms hit list.Will contain spoilers from some episodes. Enjoy!
Lucifer Morningstar🐥
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🐥"OH! Ummm.....something wrong? Did you want to play with one of my rubber ducks?” Lucifer would have no idea what is going on. He will be stood like a statue, while holding one of his signature ducks. Despite being the king of hell, this man is an awkward softie.
🐥Lucifer was officially staying at the hotel now after its renovation after the fight with Adam. It was nice that he was finally making an effort with Charlie’s dreams and acting like a father.
🐥However, this poor man suffered from depression, due to being stressed being the king of hell and also thinking about his wife leaving. Man couldn’t catch a break.
🐥His bedroom is where he would stay when he was like that, crafting another duck figurine at his desk. He hadn’t noticed you coming into his room to see how he was. The minute he felt arms wrap around him is when he realized your presence.
🐥 “Ummmmmmmm….hi there?” Lucifer just remained in the position he was in, staring at you, trying to figure out what was happening. Soon, you had let him go, wearing an apologetic smile.
🐥 “I’m sorry, your highness.” Lucifer jumped when he heard that and waved his hands. “OH! Just call me Lucifer or Luci! Don’t need to be formal with me!” You smiled at him and nodded your head. The both of you stared at each other for a bit before he broke the silence and asked why the sudden hug.
🐥Feeling shy, you rubbed the back of your neck, “Well, I noticed you seemed more melancholic than usual today. Usually when I am sad, a hug always makes me feel better so I thought maybe that would help you.” Red pupils continued to stare at you making you feel nervous, wondering if you had upset him
🐥Your body was met with a strong impact, as Lucifer tackled you in a hug, squeezing you tightly to the point it was hard to breathe. His face was in the crook of your neck, as he continued to squeeze. “C-can’t br-eath.” Gasping out an answer, you felt Lucifer let you go, by still placed his hands on your shoulder.
🐥 “S-sorry! Sorry! I forget my own strength sometimes haha! You okay? No broken bones?” He kept moving his head to peer at you, making sure you were alright. His actions caused you to laugh, surprising him. “You’re such a dad.” Lucifer then smiled at that, placing a hand on his chest, “Of course I am! I am hells number one daddy!” That sentence caused you to cackle, confusing Lucifer even more. “Hahahaha! Don’t ever say that again!” Lucifer tilted his head at you: “Wait, what did I say?”
🐥His clueless side to him was quite cute at times. You managed to calm down. “Lucifer, if you ever need someone to talk to or have another one of your depressed episodes, come find me okay. I’ll be there to listen and also provide comforting hugs." He wore a shocked expression, before he broke into a kind smile, patting your head. "Thank you."
🐥The relationship the both of you had improved a lot. He was more open with you and would discuss his problems. He was kind enough to bring you to his workshop, showing you how to make his prized ducklings. You received a nice surprise when you went into your room and saw a duck figurine that resembled you, with a red rose lying next to it.
Cherri Bomb🍒
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🍒"Woah! Hey bit✪✪!! Why the sudden tackle? You looking to throw down?" Cherri is very hyperactive and fun-loving, you almost never see her depressed about anything. She is either throwing bombs during turf wars or partying at the club with Angel Dust. She wasn't close with everyone at the hotel except Angel, but she was friendly as long as you didn't do something to piss her off.
🍒However, she does have a sensitive side to herself, but she puts up a tough guard to hide it. The three of you, yourself, Cherri and Angel were partying at a popular sex club, chugging down shot after shot. It took you a while to notice, since you were slightly buzzed, that Cherri had a more sad expression on her face then usual. You were about to question what was wrong, but she got up quickly from the bar, saying she was going out for a quick smoke.
🍒Sensing something else was going, on you let Angel know that you would be right back, before following after Cherri. Looking everywhere, you were able to find her on the patio deck of the club, smoking a cigarette while leaning on the metal bar. She didn't noticed you until she heard the sound of the door sliding and saw you walking towards her.
🍒 "Oh! Hey hoe! Whatcha doing out here? Craving a smoke too?" She was smiling wide at you, but you can tell that it was forced. Walking closer to her, you threw her arms around her, causing her one eye to stare at you in shock. ""Woah mate! Whats wrong with ya?" She patted one of your arms, wondering what was going on. "Cherri, drop the act already. I saw that look on your face in the club. There is obviously something going on. So come on, spill it."
🍒 Cherri's eye just widen further and the smile on her face dropped. She turned her head down, not saying a word to you as you kept holding her. "AGH! I'm just pissed with myself at the moment! I'm trying so hard to obtain the level of overlord, but it's not working. I need that status, so I can help Angie to be rid of that moth fu✪✪face!!" Cherri yelled out, as she threw the cigarette from her hand, while punching the metal bar with her fist. You continued to listen to her, and hugged her tighter.
🍒You both stayed like that for a bit, before you spoke: "You will do it Cherri Bomb! I believe in you and so does Angel Dust. Its gonna be hard in the beginning, but you can do it. I want the same for Angel too and I'll try to help in anyway I can." After that little speech you gave, you felt Cherri shaking with laughter. "AHAHAHA! Sorry mate, but you fighting in turf wars? I'm sorry, but your baby face is way to sweet to be considered a threat!" Her words cause you to pout. "Still, thanks mate for coming out here and making me feel better." She moved her body, positioning herself so she could hug you back.
🍒The both of you let go after that, just in time for Angel Dust to come, wondering where the both of you went. "Cherri? Toots? What's going on? Y'all been gone for a while, I thought you bailed on me!" The both of you laughed and walked closer to Angel. "Nothing Angel. Just having some girl talk." You didn't want to tell Angel what had happened before since you probably expected Cherri didn't want to worry him. You felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, and pulled you closer to them. Cherri smiled down at you before looking back at Angel. "Sorry Angie, got distracted. Lets get back to the party! I owe you a drink Y/N!" Cherri looked down at you when she said that before pulling you to the bar, with Angel following behind, wearing a smirk.
🍒Cherri exchanged numbers with you after that. She chatted with both you and Angel on the regular. Her messages were very wild and enthusiastic, either sending a picture of herself in a fight or just making funny inappropriate jokes. She had invited you to her crib to hang out at one point. You should consider yourself lucky, cause she only invites the people she cares about to her place, so the fact that she did that means she considers you a very close friend. She has offered to help train you too, since she noticed your lack of skill in combat, so she wanted to help prepare you. She knew that it would help you in the long run and also allow you to tag team together in a turf war.
Vox📺
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📺Hugging Vox was not as simple as you think. He had a reputation to uphold as one of the three Vee's. Also he didn't like being touched.
📺He was an alright guy despite his massive ego. You had been in his business for a while, so you knew quickly how he function and acted in certain situations. His mood had been very sour lately, since he had just realized his arch enemy, the radio demon was back after disappearing for seven years. His great plan was to call Alastor out during one of his video podcasts, only to be mocked down by Alastor, causing him to short circuit and cause all the power to be cut off.
📺Vox remained in his office after that, fuming. His screen was flickering every once in a while, as blue sparks kept popping up around him. You hesitated a bit, as you stood at the door to his office, contemplating if you should go in a calm him down or just let him cool off on his own. Finally reaching a decision, you walked in.
📺He was sitting in his large red chair, in front of his multiple screens. The back of the chair was facing you, as you walked closer to wear he was. Having reached closer to him, you look at him, seeing if he was okay. He was leaned back against the chair, hands covering his screen. It was mumbling something to himself, which was hard to make out, but you heard some words like "alastor" and "a✪✪hole."
📺Clearing your throat, you allowed your presence to be know to him. Vox jumped a bit, before removing one of hands to look at you. He was clearly irritated, given the scowl on his face. "The hell you doing in here? I made in clear I was not to be disturbed." You bounced back a bit at his tone, but you stood strong. "I apologize, sir. I had come to see if you were alright, since you have been in here for a few hours." Vox continued to glare at you before putting his hand back to cover his face. "Argh! That old fashion radio di✪✪head still has me pissed off!" You listen to him rant, and wanted to at least find a way to ease his emotions. "Will you allow me to help calm you down?"
📺Vox removed his hands from his face, his screen eyebrows arched up a bit. He gave a sigh and just waved his hand in the air, saying to do whatever. Taking a deep breath, you walked closer to Vox, leaning down to wrap your arms around him. Vox just froze, hands raised up in shock. He wasn't expecting something like this. After a few seconds, you let him go and stood back up, rubbing your neck. "Sorry! I- That always use to make me feel better whenever I am upset about something, so I though that would help you." You continued to look down away from Vox, afraid that you overstepped.
📺You slowly look back at him, hoping he wasn't more enraged. He surprisingly wasn't, but was more stumped then anything. Soon his screen face lit up with his blue-teethed smile. "Well that was a surprise! Didn't expect you to do that?" He continued to smirk at you, which made you twiddle your fingers. "Sorry." Vox just gave a huff, turning his face away. "Well I didn't hate it." That comment surprised you. You weren't able to see his face,, but his screen looked a tad pinkish, but it was hard to make out. Letting out a cough, he turned back and stretched. "Well time to get back and do some overlord work. You can head back and do whatever." Smiling, you bowed your head a bit, "Very well, sir." You turned around, beginning to walk back to the sliding doors. "Vox." You stopped and turned back, "I'm sorry?" Vox spun his chair, around facing you, "You can call me Vox." His face was hard to read, since you never seen him with that kind of expression before. He slowly turned back around, back of the chair facing you now.
📺He was a bit different after that whole interaction. Yes, he was still the egotistical Vox, but he acted a bit softer when he was with you behind closed doors. He would ask how your day was and how the new Voxtech sales were coming along. He tried to have you around more, whenever he was doing his podcasts or having a meeting with the other Vees. You noticed his eyes staring at you, with a sort of soft look, but he would quickly turn around like nothing was happening.
Valentino🦋
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🦋It wasn't easy to offer Valentino a hug. He was one of the the three V's, the overlords that dominated most of Pentagram city. Valentino was a busy man, since he controlled a lot of the lustful side of the city, so he was either surrounded by hot demons or working as the director for his porn videos.
🦋 However, he was prone to hissy fits, that would result in him either breaking multiple things in his office or injure one of Velvette's models. You weren't sure what caused this tantrum, but you could hear Valentino's squeaks of rage from his office.
🦋After a couple minutes, it began to quiet down, giving you a sign that it was safe to enter his office now. Opening the door to his office, you saw the mayhem that was now his office space. Papers had scattered the floor, some clothes were throw on the ground and broken pieces of glass were scattered everywhere on the floor. In the middle of the room was a giant red smoke cloud, likely containing the moth himself. You could see him a bit through the smoke, wearing a scowl, but his eyes were closed.
🦋You didn't say a word, and just started to clean up the mess. Valentino peeked his eye out to look at you, and closed it again. After fixing his clothes and throwing away the shards of glass, you picked up the papers, assembling them in a stack and walk over to his desk. Placing them down, you looked up at the moth man in front of you. He was still wearing a scowl, while muttering little curses under his breath. "Umm..Mr. Valentino?", calling out his name, you approached a bit closer, to where you were standing near his chair. Valentino opened his eyes, flashing crimson at you. "What is it?" his tone was still agitated, and his eyes were glaring at you.
🦋You fiddled with your fingers for a bit, then you slowly got closer to him, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. He was very tall, but since he was sitting down, it was easier for you to place your arms around his back, putting you head next to his neck Valentino let out a little squeak in shock, his multiple arms jumping up, which caused the pipe in one of his hands to drop to the ground. "Oh~ You looking to play gatita?" You could tell he was smirking at what you were doing. You shook your head, "I'm not doing this to have sex with you. I'm giving you a hug to cheer you up." Valentino was quiet after you said that. You were about to let go, thinking you made him more upset, but you felt his arms pull you closer, lifting you up to have you sit on his lap. His head bent down as well, leaning closer to your neck.
🦋None of you had said a word, as you continued to hug each other. You felt a pair of lips kiss your neck, giving you goosebumps. Slowly Valentino removed his head from your neck. His two hands moved to push you back, before placing the both of them on your cheeks. He was wearing a very tender expression, it was quite a surprise to see since you only saw him with a smirk or glare. "Gracias hermosa." Leaning down, he placed a kiss on your forehead, causing you to blush.
🦋His attitude with you change entirely after that. He was still a horny bastard, but he cooled it down for you. He wanted you with him at all times, either next to you or sitting on his lap. Vox took a notice to how different Valentino was being, but he didn't question it, since it saved him time and prevented him from having to come and calm Valentino down himself. Valentino began to send you little gifts as well, you expected something erotic like vibrators, but surprisingly, you got roses and beautiful jewelry. He started addressing you by your name more, or he would called you "hermosa" like he did when he kissed your forehead. Welp, looks like you have a giant moth demon attracted to you now.
~END~
(Sorry no Velvette in this headcanon. It is hard for me to write her character. Maybe i'll do a separate headcanon for just Velvette when I have time)
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Text
darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 1: Sunrise
terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!
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Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)
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Synopsis: Queen Aemma brings a new child into the world—you. As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon.
Hello, everyone! Welcome to the very first instalment of this series, featuring baby!Babey and teen-uncle!Daemon! This prologue will be the only Daemon POV of this instalment (or at least that is my current plan), and there will be several time jumps in keeping with canon. Please keep in mind that, as canon diverges around Episode 5/6 in this series, much of what occurs in the show will also occur as-is here, so don’t expect anything particularly innovative in terms of plot, lol. I’m hoping this will be an opportunity to establish Babey as a firm part of the storyline in a manner that is a little less ambiguous, and will also serve to provide more wholesome Babey/Daemon interactions to foreground their later shift. A couple things: there will be NO ROMANCE in this fic, because Babey is a child. Ew. There may be mentions of romance between other characters, but this story will be told firmly through Babey’s eyes and thus events are limited to her own interpretations.
Anyway! Enough from me - on with the show!
TRIGGERS: mentions of miscarriage/stillbirth, mentions of childbirth trauma, blood.
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“And so it was that, in the summer of 109 AC, Queen Aemma took once again to her childbed, remaining there for near two days for what would be a difficult and taxing labour. In the early hours of the morning, King Viserys and his lady wife welcomed a living babe—but not the babe they expected. The arrival of a second daughter took both by surprise, for they had come to believe the child in the Queen’s belly had been their longed-for son. It was nonetheless announced that the Queen had been delivered of a healthy girl, and a great relief was struck up across the Realm, the bells of King’s Landing being rung from dawn to dusk and the people gathering on the streets in praise of their new Princess.”
- ‘Fire and Blood: Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros’ by Archmaester Gyldayn
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It's quiet this time, he thinks. No snivelling midwives, no wailing… A good thing, surely.
Still. The silence, in all of its peculiarity, is unnerving. After the last occasion—the frenetic activity bustling up and down the halls, the yelling, the sound of Aemma’s screams, the stench of blood thickening in his nostrils as he stepped forth to take his first and last view of the purple, unmoving babe in the cradle he would never outgrow—the absence of sound seems almost foreboding. Should he not hear the child cry? Should he not be within by now? He would venture to knock on the door, but he dare not risk disturbing this fragile peace—especially if it is not fated to remain so.
Thus, Daemon Targaryen, eighteen summers of age and the King’s very own brother, waits in his seat opposite the entry to the Queen’s chambers as he has done for hours. And, as he sits, he prays.
Well—not pray, exactly. He’d have to believe in gods to do that. But, should a higher power exist, it cannot hurt to lend his own voice to the masses that even now attempt to muster enough mercy to grant the survival of his cousin and the child she has worked so hard to bring forth these past moons. Let them live, he urges, pressing the thought out into the air around him, into the sky far above the Keep. Let them both live.
“Any news?”
Daemon snaps to attention, head tilting automatically to the intruder. He suppresses a sneer. Now is not the time.
“Nothing,” he says, taking care to keep his tone even.
Otto Hightower sighs. “Well”—the Hand of the King moves closer, towering over Daemon with his hands clasped behind his back—“no news is good news, I hope.”
“Hm.” He’ll not dignify that with a response.
Hightower’s eyes narrow in on him. “There is no need to sound quite so downtrodden, Prince Daemon. I am sure the King will find some use for you… now that you are no longer his heir.”
He knows what the man is after. A display of anger, perhaps—maybe even hot-headed insistence on his part that his position stands as it has since Viserys won the throne, that the child is dead, that the Lord has every reason to fear him still. He won’t give him the satisfaction, though. If his brother ventures out to see Daemon once again railing at his most trusted advisor…
Daemon’s desire to meet his nephew outweighs his need to put this upstart in his place.
“Never fear, Otto.” He smiles, lips stretched wide with too much teeth, threatening more than welcoming. “I’ll always have a place by Viserys’s side. I am his brother. And you…” He looks the man up and down. Even now, the pin of the Hand is attached to the cunt’s lapel like a sycophantic badge of honour, gleaming in the golden torchlight. “What are you, exactly?”
Hightower’s jaw clenches. “I am the Hand of the Ki—”
“For now,” Daemon says, a smug half-smirk playing at the very corners of his mouth. “Don’t forget that. For now.”
What he doesn’t say is plain to read upon his face. One day, he’ll understand. One day, he’ll see you for what you really are. A leech, one who latches onto power and drains those who truly wield it dry.
The reminder makes Otto pale. “I—”
The door creaks open, the flushed face of one Viserys Targaryen appearing in the space between wood and frame. “Daemon.”
Daemon rises. “Is—how is—” He cannot get the fucking words out.
His brother grins. “Aemma is well, and the babe is healthy.”
He lets out a relieved breath, surprised to discover exactly how tense he had been since the messenger had roused him from sleep at the hour of the owl. That tension releases itself with the air he pushes from his lungs, his shoulders sagging from the freedom of it. Suddenly, his eyes no longer feel so wide, so fear-bright, and fatigue sets in. He is tired. But first—
“May I see him?” he asks.
At that, Viserys pauses, whatever he had intended to say to Otto left unfinished. He clears his throat, all joy fleeing his face. “Ah… About that.”
“Is the boy… crippled?” The Hand’s voice is hushed, apprehensive.
“No, no!” Viserys insists, shaking his head. “Only… she is small, quiet. Nothing at all like Rhaenyra was.”
“A girl? But Runciter was so certain!” Otto says, mouth parted in shock.
Runciter’s a fucking fool. Anyone who sets stock by his theories ought to be burned alive, Daemon thinks, rolling his eyes. He’d never liked maesters—any of them, least of all the doddering fuckwits appointed to the vaunted station of Grand Maester. That Runciter had gotten this wrong is hardly surprising. None of them seem to know what they are doing.
He pushes around his brother and leaves him to his latest inanity, moving onward to where his newest niece lay.
The Queen’s chambers are stifling, unbearably hot, the windows closed tight and the fires blazing in spite of the warmth already pervading the early hours of the morn. Another ridiculous notion, he suspects, though whether it be Westerosi custom or Targaryen superstition, he knows not. Perhaps dragonbabes can only be born into the fire they are made from.
Last time he was here, Aemma had been gaunt, eyes red-rimmed and near hysterical from the passing of her first, her only son. She’d laid weeping in her bloodied shift still, bedraggled hair sticking to slick skin as she’d mourned the child, insensate to kind words or reason from any who had approached her. Eventually, Viserys had demanded all who were not the blood of the dragon to remove themselves from the room. Together, he and Daemon had borne Aemma from her childbed, had taken her to the bath still waiting, had disposed of the last markers of gloom and tragedy marring the space.
Only those of Valyrian blood should ever bear witness to weakness from one of their own. Only those of Valyrian blood could ever understand the magnitude of such a loss. Their line had been dying out since the Doom—every death since only ever added salt to the wound.
What Daemon walks into this time is different. So very, very different.
Aemma is gaunt still, overcome by weariness, no doubt sapped greatly by the trials of such long labour. Shadows carve deep hollows beneath her eyes, skeletal, made almost sinister by the flicker of dim light, and her mouth is pale and cracked. Yet, there is naught but a buoyant sort of lightness adorning her face, shining more brilliantly than a crown ever could.
The chamber bears none of that ominous atmosphere that pervaded that night, instead filled with the heady scent of frankincense clogging each breath he draws, earthy smoke settling warm in his gut. The sheets are clean. The midwives calm. The Grand Maester, asleep in the chair by the fire.
And, in the Queen’s arms, the smallest wrapped bundle he has ever seen.
“Is that…” He swallows, dazed and speechless.
His cousin beams. “Come,” she says. “Come and meet her.”
Wordlessly, he approaches, taking care to make his footfalls light so as not to disturb the delicate creature enshrined in a mother’s embrace. As he draws close, he sees that the babe is not asleep as he had thought. Instead, open eyes look upward, deep dark indigo with the merest hint of lilac-violet-amethyst, the promise of Old Valyria in that muzzy, unfocused gaze.
This is the moment he meets you.
Aemma graciously accepts his silent question, relinquishing you to your uncle with naught but a gentle sigh and a stroke to the cheek. So little are you that you settle easily into the line of his arm, head to the crook of his elbow and rump to his cupped hand, light enough that it would be easy to forget you are even there. You let out a soft bleat, feet kicking beneath your swaddling—but that is all. For when that blue-nearly-purple stare shifts, locking with his, you fall silent, still. And so does he.
You are beautiful.
Of course you are. Viserys is hardly the handsomest of men, and Aemma comely enough though of no great noteworthiness, but their firstborn is about as lovely as any girl of nine summers can be. Your sister.
Gods, he thinks. Rhaenyra, an elder sister. The very notion of his spoiled little niece playing such a part seems unwittingly hilarious in this moment. She will not like being made to share her mama and papa—her uncle—with you.
Right now, that is irrelevant. His attention returns to the slope of your nose, the rosebud bloom of your lips, the blush of your rounded cheeks, tracking the near ethereal features of your face with a delicate fingertip. Newborns are dreadful looking things, usually, squished and red and misshapen. You look like a painting, or a doll made by the finest artisans, a sculpture rendered by magic rather than mortal hands. He wonders if it is love for you—and it is love, he has no doubt of that, for his love of family is perhaps the one true redeeming quality he possesses—that blinds him to any imperfection, or if you really are as lovely as you seem.
“What will you name her?” he asks, smoothing the cloths off your fragile little head to take the briefest peek at your scalp. Ah—there it is. Targaryen silver. With an Arryn for a mother, one could never be certain.
“Rhaenyra’s insisted on naming her sister Visenya.”
Daemon glances toward the foot of the bed. Viserys has returned, absent of his loyal hound, drawing near without his notice.
He snorts. “How very like her.” ‘Tis true; Rhaenyra has always been fixated on stories of the Conqueror and his wives, in particular forming a fascination for the elder of Aegon’s Queens. It is a powerful name. A warrior’s name. He frowns. “A fine name—but not for this little thing.”
Visenya is anger and retribution; violence and chaos; death and destruction. Daemon can find nothing of the sort in you. Every part of you—from the tips of your fuzzed palewhite hair to the petite softness of your wiggly little feet—seems fit for a destiny of another kind. One of peace, of calm, of joy and goodness.
Aemma hums an agreement, wholly preoccupied with gazing at her newest child. “If she were a son, her name would be Baelon.”
“Hm.” Viserys steps forward, palm brushing featherlight across your side as he passes to sit by his wife. “Baelon and Visenya. Those are the names we had prepared. But alas, Baelon was not to be. And Visenya is not… right.”
Daemon stands, bringing you a scant few steps toward the window. Dawn is approaching. The sky has relinquished the darkness of night, and there, on the horizon, the faintest of ambers illuminates the locus where the heavens and the earth meet, silhouetting the city below. As he watches the sun rise, he just barely hears the staff behind him make their final exits, awash in a rustle of equipment and a hush of words offered to their mistress and exultant ruler.
A tiny noise below draws his interest. Your eyelids have drooped, soft lashes framing lavender lids that sweep across the skin of your cheeks. When he dips his finger into the parting of your mouth, you begin to suckle at him, reflex rather than need.
“What would you call her?” Aemma asks after seconds, minutes, hours. He turns, brow arched in surprise. She seems genuinely curious, though she is admittedly not one for mean-spirited japes as it is. His cousin has always valued his opinion more than his brother ever had, even if was she who had forced his bitch of a wife upon him. “If you could,” she adds, “what name would you give her?”
He looks to Viserys, wordlessly asking for permission. A dip of the chin is his response. Letting loose a soft grunt, he peers down at his small charge.
Visenya is too fierce. Gael too glum. Too many fucking ‘Rhae’ names, so no Rhaenys. Daella too bland, Saera too provocative, Alysanne too common.
And then, he thinks upon it. The perfect name. Your name. When he says it aloud, he is met with a shine in Aemma’s eyes, a gleam in Viserys’s grin.
“That is it,” the King says, nodding decisively. “That is what we shall call her.” Rising, he comes forward to clap Daemon on the shoulder lightly, hand warm even through the layers of his shirt and coat. “Thank you, brother.”
“Your Grace,” he murmurs, tipping his head.
There is a tightening in his chest, the sort of feeling that threatens to stop his heart from the depth of his own enduring emotion. As Viserys makes his way to the door to deliver the announcement—to proclaim your birth, to order the ringing of the bells, to declare your name for the entire world to hear and know—Daemon gazes down at you.
“What do you think, sweetling?” He says your name again.
This time, he swears that you smile back at him.
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Read on AO3:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48798151/chapters/123097897
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