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adragonprinceswhore · 24 days

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Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)wife

Chapter IV: Never Going Back Again 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Aemond answers your performance of 'Dreams' by singing yet another newly composed song during rehearsal. This time, you can't contain the rage he elicits within you.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, smut, hatesex, rough sex, oral (m. receiving), spanking, pussy slapping, fingering, P in V, choking, degradation, manhandling

Word count: 4880 A/N: Thank you always to my love Justine, @theoneeyedprince for helping me by having a look at the edited version 🩵

Bringing Aemond’s old hoodie on tour feels like harbouring a shameful secret.

You’d felt weak enough when you spontaneously brought it with you when you moved out of your shared flat. And when you realised it was the only thing that could make you fall asleep any time anxiety weighed heavy on your chest.

So when you packed your suitcases to tour the Seven Kingdoms, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to leave it behind. But the shame of still needing it; still needing the memory of him, resulted in you storing it away somewhere no one would see it, least of all yourself.

Until you sought it out.

You wake up still curled on the side of the large bed, Aemond’s scent encompassing you.

How long will his smell linger on the fabric?

Soon, it’d disappear and you’d have no trace of him left.

You reach Winterfell the next day. Luckily, you’re allowed a small break before the next performance, leaving you some time to explore the city and rehearse with the band.

You spend your day sightseeing in the capital of the North; grabbing coffee with Helaena and window shopping around the bustling city centre.

Despite the quick friendship you had established after joining the band, your relationship with Helaena has become greatly strained following your separation from Aemond.

You know she hates the tension and the fighting. She has a habit of closing off and retreating whenever she feels uncomfortable, and having two band members in an infected conflict is not something she finds easy to navigate. You still love her like a sister, and you know Aemond holds her dear as well, so you try to spare her from it all, even if your attempts aren’t always successful.

“We’ll be late for the rehearsal if we don’t leave soon”, you tell her as she’s eyeing a pair of sparkly firefly hair clips. She nods absentmindedly in response and picks up the clips,

“I know, I know. Let me just get these”, she answers with a smile, heading towards the register.

Helaena pays for the newest addition to her endless collection of insect trinkets, and you leave for the venue you’ll be performing at in two days; Winterfell Arena.

This is going to be your biggest show yet.

When your management booked the arena you were scared of not selling enough tickets to justify such a large space. But you’d been pleasantly surprised by the interest shown in the North. The last tickets had just sold, and it would be your largest audience to date.

Entering the arena, you’re taken aback by its sheer size. You can’t believe you’ll be performing in a place like this, and to a sold-out crowd. You’re suddenly hit with an overwhelming sense of nauseating anxiety. Will you be able to give them a worthy show?

Will you be good enough?

The constant self doubt that plagues your mind had been easier to handle when Aemond was by your side. He’d always been your biggest supporter; chasing away all your inner demons with his reassurance.

He always made you feel better.

Now, you were left alone and with nothing but doubt keeping you company. You miss having someone to soothe you by your side.

Miss having someone to confide in.

To rely on.

The stage’s larger than any you’d ever been on before. You try to shake the nerves taking over you, but it’s hard not to get overwhelmed by the size of the hall. It’s intimidatingly large.

You and Helaena begin to set up and prepare for tonight’s rehearsal, and Jace, Erryk and Aemond drop in one by one to join. You’d expected the latter to have his usual gorgeous companion on his arm, but he surprises you by showing up alone, five minutes after the time you’d all agreed upon and without saying a word.

It isn’t like him to show up late, and you can feel the stress radiating from him, though he stays quiet.

You know he’s been working on yet another song for the new album, and today he mentioned in the group chat that he’d like to play it for you during rehearsal.

He’d sent you the name; ‘Never Going Back Again’.

Is it about his relationship with his grandfather?

When Aemond told Otto Hightower that he wanted to quit working for him at Oldtown Solicitors in order to fully focus on his music career, his grandfather had nearly cut all ties to him.

In a particularly weak moment, he’d even given you a call, insinuating that you were a bad influence on his grandson,

“I let him entertain this silly band for the sake of Helaena and Aegon! I even let him do a minor in history at the university I financed. And yet, he meets you and suddenly wants to give that all up to record an album? Talk some sense into him, won’t you?”

Aemond had been furious when you told him about the call from Otto, making it clear to his grandfather that he’d never go back to working with him or in property law. He’d been prepped and groomed since birth; the perfect heir to carry on the Hightower legacy. Not as flaky or unreliable as his older siblings. Always the dutiful son.

Aemond moves across the stage to grab his bag, pulls out a water bottle and places a tablet on his tongue.

You realise he must’ve been late due to the pain of his eye injury flaring up again. Despite his recent awful behaviour, you can’t help but feel bad for him.

When you first started dating, you’d been scared of asking about his eye. Evidently, it was a sore subject, and you didn't want to pry. Eventually, he told you about the car accident he was in when he was 10.

He’d been in the backseat of the family's car with his nephews, engaging in a petty fight. As the driver tried to de-escalate the situation in the back, he lost control of the vehicle, crashing it into a large tree by the side of the road.

The only casualty from the crash was Aemond’s left eye. A piece of metal from the car had come loose during the crash and flung back through the window, creating a scar going from his forehead down to his cheek; robbing him of his vision and permanently causing him pain.

When you started dating, you made sure to learn his routine and preferences, to make it easier and less unbearable for him when the nerve damage caused intense pain to shoot through his head.

You still remember.

He likes the room cool. He always lies on top of the duvet on his back, letting the chill air sooth his aching skin. Unless you’re there. Then he used to lie on his stomach next to you; one armed wrapped around your waist and his head on your chest. You’d thread your fingers through his silky hair with the softest of touches, stroking his head until the pain killers drag him into slumber.

It had been in one of those moments that he’d first told you he loves you.

You look over at Aemond as he makes his way towards his guitar, picking it up and experimentally playing a few chords to check the volume.

Did he manage the pain by himself now?

Or did he lay his head on Alys’ chest, hugging her?

Does she run her fingers through his hair?

Does she let them trace the outlines of the beautiful sharpness of his face?

Over his cupid's bow, nose bridge, cheekbones?

Does he lay his head on her chest, letting the drum of her heart lull him to sleep?

Does he allow her to come as close?

You go through the set list, discussing the order of both your older and newer songs.

Jace, Helaena and Erryk all praise your performance of Dreams, asking you to perform it each night moving forward.

Helaena, standing next to her brother, leans towards him and mumbles, “Your back-up vocals really make the chorus shine”, while offering him a gentle smile.

Aemond replies with a hum and moves to stand by one of the microphones with his guitar in hand. His usual stoic yet quietly commanding self returns when he starts to play without any explanation or introduction, fingers plucking the strings with precision. He sings,

‘She broke down and let me in’

During recording, you’d briefly glanced at the words in the recording studio, huffing a laugh at his audacity. They definitely sting more on stage. Your face turns hot and you can’t decipher if it’s from humiliation or anger. Maybe both.

He really is a dick.

‘Made me see where I’ve been’

‘Been down one time’

‘Been down two times’

‘Never going back again’

Any sympathy you’d felt for him; any longing you’d felt for him, vanishes as he sings. Another song about you, this time in the form of the final nail in the coffin that is your marriage.

And he had the nerve to ask you not to perform Dreams anymore?

‘You don’t know what it means to win’

‘Come ‘round and see me again’

Back at the hotel room, rage makes your entire body feel hot and restless.

How fucking dare he?

Never going back again?

First, he’d sung about how you broke his heart and now, he paints you like you’re the plague; like a sickness to avoid.

All you want to do is call Alysanne and spew out all the pent up emotions storming inside of you.

You place your phone on the nightstand and roughly shove the charger inside, fingers tapping furiously to call Alysanne.

She doesn’t answer and you call her again. Still no answer.

You’re so restless you can’t sit down, irritation making your skin feel hot and hands tingly.

What if you asked him to not play the song? That’s what he’d asked of you.

Unable to stay still, you grab your key card and shove your feet into a pair of white hotel slippers, heading down to where you know Aemond’s hotel room is.

You reach the door and knock on it firmly while your feet shuffle from side to side impatiently.

You're not sure what you’ll tell him, the rage inside guiding you instead of your senses.

Aemond opens the door, face unreadable and eyebrows raised in question at your sudden visit. He’s clad in nothing but a pair of green joggers and your gaze briefly flickers down to take in his shirtless stature.

“Really? Never going back?”, you question and move in closer. The heavy hotel door shut behind you, and suddenly it’s only the two of you, in his room.

He neither answers nor moves, and you’re standing so close that your clothed chest bumps into his naked one. You crane your neck to look into his eyes. His stern demeanour doesn’t quite reach them, gaze softer than you’d imagined.

Anger still guides you, and a pathetically spiteful idea prompts you to slowly kneel before him, still standing impossibly close and eyes never straying away from his.

“Not even if I do this?”

Your face is level with his crotch as you look up at him. He’s always loved this sight; you at his mercy. But not now. Now he’s at yours.

You slowly lean forward and press your lips against the exposed skin of his torso, fleetingly kissing him right by his happy trail, just above the hem of his trousers.

You’ve missed the soft smoothness of his flesh; a tender veil over the hard muscles hiding underneath. So contradictingly beautiful.

Aemond stays unmoving, eyes staring at you with a scorching intensity. You know he won’t stop you. If he didn’t want this, he’d have let you know by now.

So you press another kiss right under his navel, and feel sickly delighted by the barely-there shiver vibrating from him.

Slowly, and with light kisses to his stomach, you reach for the hem of his joggers, letting your hands softly pull down the fabric and reveal his manhood. He’s already half hard, and you have to bite back a smile.

Never going back again? Yeah right.

Your eyes never leave his as your delicate kisses trail downward, towards his cock, yet never making direct contact with it.

His face still is as impassive as always, but he’s now grown so hard his tip is leaking precum, fuelling your actions.

You haven’t been this close to him in months and it almost feels intoxicating; his smell encircling you.

You want to see him lose control; you need to see him lose control. Need to hear him beg for you.

Plead for you.

Come for you.

You squeeze your things together at the thought, arousal making an ache drum between your legs. It’s an addictive thought; imagining him pleading for you. Begging for you. Needing you.

You want him to want you.

He still hasn’t moved, or said anything. You take his silence as an invitation to continue.

Want him to want you.

Still locking eyes, you slowly graze your lips over his skin until your mouth is by the base of his cock. You know he won’t give you the satisfaction of letting you in on what he’s feeling, but that’s alright.

You’ll force it out of him.

Your hand travels up his leg and moves to grip his cock, now so hard it’s aching to be touched. You work in long, firm strokes, just the way he likes.

The staring contest continues. You know his stoic appearance is meant to frighten you, but you know him too well. You can see the cracks appearing already.

Eager to push him further, you slowly open your mouth and let your tongue out, gently swiping it over his leaking tip to collect the glistening beads of precum. You feel the proof of his arousal on your tongue, and you see his gaze flicker down to observe it in your mouth as you unhurriedly close your mouth and swallow.

He stays silent, but you see his jaw twitch.

He likes it.

Growing bolder, you move your lips back to the tip of his cock, kissing it in a far too innocent manner before wrapping your lips around him and sucking firmly.

In the briefest of moments, his eyebrows knit together and he closes his eyes.

The satisfaction you feel at his clear arousal goes straight to the thrumming between your legs, and you briefly squeeze your thighs together. You move your mouth lower, placing feather-light kisses down his length before gently swiping your tongue over his balls.

You can hear the restraint in each laboured breath he huffs through his nose.

Your soft lips envelop one of his balls, and your hands continue to stroke his length. You know he loves this; loves when you get down on your knees and worship him.

You let your tongue massage every inch as it rests in your mouth, and when you let out a moan, pure theatrics to make him succumb to you, Aemond’s jaw goes slack and his lips part uncontrollably.

Just a little further and you’ll break him.

You’ll win.

Perhaps the look in your eyes let him in on your scheme.

Perhaps he’s too close to continue.

But when he grabs you by the hair and yanks you off of him, it takes you by surprise.

“About to cum, baby?”, you mockingly ask.

He clicks his tongue and grabs your forearms to pull you up so you're standing in front of him again.

Still not saying a word, he tries so hard to appear stoic, but you can see the storm brewing within him. A sudden push to your shoulders causes you to stumble backward and land on Aemond's soft hotel bed.

“Let’s see how fucking wet you get from sucking off the man you hate”

His voice is both calm and taunting at once. His hands come up to the sides of your leggings, pulling them down with force, taking your underwear with them.

You know you’re wet, but you really don’t want him to know that.

You don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

You try to press your legs together, but one of his large hands finds its place on your mound and cups it perfectly as one of his fingers slides down between your folds to meet the silky wetness there. The fact that his hand seems to fit against you perfectly, like two puzzle pieces, amplifies your desire. And rage.

“Having my balls in your mouth made you that wet, huh? Still so dirty, baby”, he teases, emphasis on the pet name to match your previous mock.

You let out a yelp as his hand briefly leaves you to land a quick smack on your exposed clit. His cocksure expression flashes by before he grabs your hips again to place you on your stomach, bare ass receiving a smack as well.

He works quickly, sitting down next to you on the bed and pulling you towards him. He places your middle on his lap, and lets his hand come down to land another smack on your asscheek.

His hand stays on your soft skin, lingering a bit longer than you’d anticipated, before travelling down between your thighs to meet your neglected centre.

“You like that too, don’t you?”, he asks as he catches your clit between his fingers and press harshly.

It stings.

It feels good.

You press your lips together to prevent any sounds from escaping, racking your brain for a way to gain back control.

Aemond’s fingers begin to draw firm circles and your mind starts to feel foggy from want. Without thinking, your hips begin to move in tandem with his fingers. He chuckles.

“I know you inside out”, he triumphs, but as you move your hips, you can feel how achingly hard he is beneath you.

You know him too.

You pull away from his lap, sitting back on your haunches on the bed, and remove your cardigan, then your tank top, and finally your bra.

You manage to startle Aemond by your sudden move, and you seize your chance at dominance by placing both hands on his shoulders and pushing him down, so he lies on his back on the plush, white sheets of the hotel bed.

You straddle him, and move one hand down to pull down his sweatpants once again. Revealing his cock, you encircle him softly before placing his length between your folds, dragging your wetness all over him. You bite back a moan as his cock pushes on your clit again and again, hips move back and forward.

Aemond seems lost for words as well, undoubtedly enjoying you moving against him.

His seeing eye flickers wildly to take in your naked body, damaged eye not able to keep up with the rapid movements. His cheeks and the tips of his ears are pink. You momentarily feel mesmerised by his beauty.

The realisation that you’ve missed seeing him like this, missed being with him like this, pierces your heart painfully and your hips still.

You don’t want to think about the sadness inside. You want to break him. Like he broke you.

Up until now, it’s been a constant fight for dominance; a never-ending back and forth. But you got him now.

“Beg me to fuck you”, you command, voice slightly out of breath. Aemond’s eyes are fixed on your heaving, naked chest.

“What?”, he questions, like he doesn’t understand what you’re asking.

“Beg”, you repeat, voice more demanding as your breathing calms,

“Beg me to fuck you, Aemond”

Though confusion had briefly flashed over his face, it’s now set in fury.

His eyes narrow.

Without answering you, he places one hand on your shoulder and another on your waist, manhandling your body down on his cock in one swift motion. The sudden intrusion makes you gasp, much to Aemond’s satisfaction. He grins victoriously.

Fuck, it’s been so long.

He begins bucking up into you in an instance. The firm hold he has on your body feels bruising, and his fingers dig into your flesh meanly so that you won’t move.

He angles his hips, and each stroke touches your sweet spot. You bite down on your lip to hinder the moans that are fighting to escape. He’s essentially fucking you on his cock, and it feels so good you can’t think clearly anymore.

“Come on, I know you can’t keep quiet”

He pushes your body down harder, bucking his hips up faster. You can’t help but move with him, it feels so fucking good.

You’re still not going to come. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction. He’s gonna come.

You clench down on his length each time he slides in and you see the tension in his jaw; the vein bulging out at the side of his neck.

Maybe if you push him just a little bit further?

“Oh, Aemond”, you moan as you throw your head back, tightening your muscles again, gripping him like a vice.

He’s always loved getting praised.

The hand he’d placed on your shoulder moves to your throat, engulfing the entirety of it. His fingers press down on the sides,

“Shut up”

His grip tightens. The movement of your hips begin to falter as the restricted blood flow to your head amplifies your pleasure. You bite your lip harder not to moan.

He knows exactly how to get you.

He continues to fuck up into your dripping cunt, ignoring your change in pace. Each stroke of his cock within your walls feels like pure ecstasy; like sparks of sheer pleasure shooting through your body.

His expression is infuriatingly smug and you realise you must look completely blissed out as he uses your body.

You feel the familiar tightening in your lower stomach, the sign that your peak is approaching rapidly.

No no no, he can’t win!

You pull away from the grip he has on you, abruptly getting off him, internally mourning the pleasure you rob yourself of.

He needs to come. He needs to break first.

You sit next to where he’s lying on his back, hand moving down so that you can work his length again.

Aemond catches on to your scheme quickly and uses his strength to push you away, manhandling you so your face’s down in the mattress and ass exposed.

He pulls on one cheek, admiring your wet and wanting centre. When he shoves back inside with an exaggerated tut, you can’t take it anymore; the pleasure’s just too much.

His touch feels too good, no matter how harsh it is.

You try to push your face as far as possible into the bed, hoping Aemond can’t hear the moans you can’t contain any longer.

The loud smacks of his hips against your backside and the lewd, wet sounds coming from your cunt fill the room.

It’s so aggressively erotic.

One of his hands finds your clit and as he starts massaging it with vigour, his other hand moves towards your head.

He grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back so you are facing him. The grip hurts; like a thousand little needles assaulting your scalp.

“You’re gonna come, I know it. Don’t you fucking dare not look me in the eye when you do”

You’re stuck in his painful grip, yet your orgasm’s racing towards you, making you clench down on his length and moan louder and louder, no longer able to hide the effect he has on you.

The hand in your hair moves down to grab your breast roughly, nipple pinched between his fingers. You find it hard to keep your body up as pleasure makes it feel like you're floating, but Aemond’s arms around you makes it impossible for you to move. His face moves to press against yours; cheek to cheek,

“When you sing your silly little songs about what a player I am, remember that no one else can make you feel as good as I do”

And you’re gone. The orgasm hits you so hard you almost black out. It makes your entire body jerk uncontrollably, and if Aemond hadn’t been holding you, you’d be on the floor.

He keeps fucking your through your orgasm, breathing heavily and grunting at the intense way your walls contract around him.

As the movements of his hips turn sloppy and frantic, you feel his face move to press between your shoulder blades, arms still holding you tightly, like he’s hugging you from behind.

Or trying to crush you.

You can’t decide which.

You stay like that for a few moments. The room is quiet, save for your shared heavy breathing. You’re suddenly aware of the close proximity between the two of you and feel too exposed, regret storming inside you like in icy waves.

Shit, what have you done?

Aemond loosens his grip around you and lowers you down on the bed much gentler than how he’d touched you before.

You stay on your stomach, burying your face in the bed as you feel Aemond shuffle behind you, softly tracing a hand down your back before getting up and making his way towards the adjacent bathroom.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Hearing him turn on the faucet, you quickly get up from the bed.

You have to get out before he comes back.

You frantically look for your clothes, scattered all over the hotel room floor. Trying to be as quick as you can be feels impossible when your legs still feel far wobbly, and your mind way too fuzzy, to cooperate.

You hear Aemond turn off the faucet as you pull on your leggings and underwear. You can’t find your bra, and you don’t even bother looking for it before pulling on your tank top and cardigan hurriedly.

You just need to get away.

Away from Aemond.

You step into your slippers and dart out the front door as you hear him emerge from the bathroom.

Not patient enough to wait for the elevator, you head towards the emergency exit and climb the two stories up to your room.

As soon as you're inside, you toss the hotel card key on the desk by the window and throw yourself on the bed, body jolting from the force.

You want to cry.

You want to scream.

You want to go to sleep and realise this was all just a fucked up dream.

You reach for your phone on the nightstand, now fully charged and with a few messages from Alysanne, asking you how you are and if you’d gone to the cafe she’d recommended by Winterfell Central Station.

You press her name and the small telephone icon, hoping she’ll pick up.

“Hi honey, you okay?”, she answers, voice evidently concerned from your sudden call.

You usually stick to texting, or pre-scheduled face-time dates.

“I fucked up”, you say, barely above a whisper. You hope that she’ll know what happened without you actually having to say the words. You don’t want to speak it into existence.

“Did you kill him?”, she jokes and you let out a hollow laugh.

“Worse”, you say, and Alysanne sighs on the other end.

“Was it good?”, she asks after a long pause, making you let out another snort.

“What do I do now, Aly? I was just going to push him a little and now-”

“That’s your problem. You always want to get a reaction out of him. What happened to just focusing on yourself?”

Her words feel patronising, like you’re being scolded by your parents. Yet you know she is right. You stay silent and mentally search for a reply; any excuse for your behaviour.

“Yeah”, you sigh in resignation.

You know you fucked up; that you’ve acted childish and petty. Still, the satisfied afterglow of experiencing the best orgasm you’ve had in months leaves you feeling a bit less anxious.

Alysanne tries to distract you by asking about Winterfell, the tour, and what you’re planning on wearing for the big show tomorrow.

It feels good to talk to a friend without holding anything back. Even if you appreciate Helaena’s company immensely, you know she’s being pulled between you and Aemond, and you’d rather not add to her suffering.

As Aly tells you about the guy she went on a date with last night, your phone buzzes.

You briefly glance at your screen, ready to swipe the notification away, when you notice it’s an email from your solicitors office.

You say a quick goodbye to Aly, open the email and quickly scan through the overly formal text. Your eyes flicker over the screen, taking in what’s written.

…finalised…

…shared assets…

There’s a PDF at the bottom of the email. You click on it, seeing the document you’d left for Aemond in your flat over three months ago. The empty space you’d left next to your hurried signature is now filled in, reading;

Aemond Targaryen.

A/N: Thank you for reading 🫶 If you wonder about if he signed the papers right after she left his hotel room; it’s a pdf with his signature, I imagine he actually signed it before leaving for the tour and it just reached her solicitors now.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond fanfiction #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #rumours #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen angst #modern aemond

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kasarasun · 7 months

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what if I made a thing or it already was that while Airplane wrote the world, Peerless Cucumber illustrated it (only the animals. And Binghe, fighting the animals.) And then then then

He'd totally do it on an alt account, right?? Peerless Cucumber can't be seen making fanart!! (And he's good at it. Like, wiki is using his art in the monsters and beasts pages (that Peerless Cucumber volleyed for. He also separated it from the plant section.) Because 1 its good 2 the artstyle is consistent 3 there isn't a lot of monster official art, other than that one with the black moon rhinoceros python and those other ones and 4 it's really that good)

Haha incomprehensible parenthesis nesting aside, Airplane is watching the forums, right? Not sure about other stuff in canon but he looks at the forums and the fanart and the fiction and most of it is probably corn and binghe and just a little bit of mobei-jun and also the wives tm but!! There's also that guy!!! The monsters guy!! (People would probably suspect 'Drawing the Beast's Ire'- or some other sex euphemism I'm not good at making those- of being Peerless Cucumber because 1 the writing style is the same 2 Peerless Cucumber is the number 1 contributor to the PIDW wiki and a lot of it is the monsters and beasts section and it makes sense, yes??) Anyway, Airplane shooting towards the sky suspects but not too seriously suspects Mr ire of being cucumber's fanart alt but uh uh that ends pre-transmigration section

So, Shen Yuan starts running about, right? Things seem really... familiar, maybe thats the word?- for some reason. This is because every animal and plant he's ever drawn, sketched- maybe even thought about but that's a stretch?- is his design. The firefly parallels hold their forelimbs like butterflies. That is how far down it goes. Maybe it doesn't come up until later, but beasts and monsters from fanfiction get involved, oc species, too... anyway,

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky transmigrates 30 years (iirc) before Peerless Cucumber. He was an avid enough follower of Drawing the Beast's Ire to recognize that these are their designs! Here's where it gets really crazy. Xiao-Mobei comes along, and while he's still pretty young, Airplane can tell that this is Drawing Ire's design! Some aspect, maybe his ears or teeth, (this isn't a well built theoretical tangent) of Mobei isnt canon. Its Drawing Ire's. From that one Northern Kingdom collection. Whatever stretched his world building into coherence, completion, didn't just pull from fanwork, official art, whatever it could find, it went for Drawing the Beast's Ire's designs specifically. Damn that's crazy Airplane ahahaha moving on,

This is getting really long so I'll be a bit more concise, (want to know more? Talk to me. Please talk to me. I want to interact with the fandom. Ask me questions. Poke your fingers into my cage.) This all comes to head at the Immortal alliance conference. The monsters and beasts really start pouring in! And Shen Qingqiu/Yuan remembers his creations. However, he assumes that this is because like 1 other person maybe was Drawing ghost head spiders.

Hey, Peerless Cucumber really liked the monsters, right? The deadlier, crazier, more intricate, the design the better! So maybe, when he was drawing, he... added some things, really believable, logical additions, really just small creative decisions...

Anyway, the monsters that Drawing the Beast's Ire made were where it came to a head.

Lets have another Canon divergence. Maybe, during or after Binghe gets pushed in, out of the rifts comes a species that Drawing Ire created. It's beautiful, poisonous, beloved, and really quite deadly. Shen Yuan/Qingqiu, Peerless Cucumber, Drawing the Beast's Ire... realizes, quite like airplane before him, that he's illustrated, practically sculpted with his own hands, monsters from the Endless Abyss with claws and teeth and poisons as deadly as Peerless Cucumber thought that the really cool monsters could deserve. It feels like he's the one cutting, biting, poisoning his sweet little sheep. It feels like he's digging out the marrow from his little white lotus disciple's bones.

Ok it is shut up time 👍

#svsss #shen yuan #shang qinghua #idea vomiting #mobei jun #my writing #long post #text post

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mrs-elsie-barnes · 4 months

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The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 16

Cold Compress | Loki x Reader

After fleeing the court of The Golden Palace, Loki follows and reveals a secret of his own in an effort to console you. But his new form is more than just comforting...

Warning: 18+. sexual content and language. I mean it. Jotun Lokiincluding - size difference, oral sex (m & f receiving) frottage, fingering/large insertion. Hyperspermia. Capital S for SMUT

A/N: I used What If...Loki and thought about an average size woman to compare. This really is just self-indulgent smut so can be read standalone if you're not following the series.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @reveriesources

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

The wrath that had sent your fire reeling banked at the cool touch of Loki’s hands around your waist. In one moment you were a raging inferno, destroying every artefact, every decoration and drape in your path, sending other gods fleeing back into side rooms and up onto the balconies. The next you were cradled so softly in his arms, his touch pushing back your anger like a cool breeze on a summer day.

The burnt cinders of the corridor were gone and you found yourself alone in a similarly vast marble throne room, sealed from floor to ceiling in onyx black marble, seams of gold tracing through the wide blocks into an endless ceiling, twinkling with candlelight.

Loki held you to his chest, petting the back of your head and down your arms, quenching the fire under his touch and, when you finally looked at him, he still held that pale blue hue that had appeared when he created a sedir shield against your explosive anger.

“Asynja,” Loki breathed your name like a prayer, cupping your cheek and drawing you closer.

“Loki,” you sobbed, collapsing back into his chest and allowing your tears to fall freely, “I don’t want to join any of their families.” You finally let the tears flow, now that your anger was subsiding, and your fear rose swiftly to the surface.

“No one can make you go with them, my darling,” Loki soothed, but you still hiccuped around another sob. “I promise, as long as I am beside you, my darling Asynja, no one shall take you from me. Do you understand?” He pulled back to look down at you, his eyes brimming with a potent mixture of anger and possessiveness.

“I understand,” you took a deep breath, but the flames that had surrounded you continued to dance around your feet and temples. “It’s just - it’s an awful lot to deal with so suddenly.”

“I know, I too have experienced a revelation about my parentage, and the powers that come with it.” He kept his eyes steady with yours but you could tell from the twitch in his jaw that he was holding his emotions back.

Confused you allowed your gaze to rove over him for the first time, he didn’t appear to be hurt by the flames but he still looked different somehow.

“You’re blue.”

“Yes,” Loki laughed a little, “I am blue. I thought it might help you to see that you are not alone in discovering new things about yourself and that you are also not alone in being frightened. Although this is only part of my other body.” He admitted.

You took Loki’s hand, colder than usual, and led him into the centre of the ballroom before tugging him to sit on the floor beside you. “What are you frightened of?” Your dress pooled around you, shimmering slightly, and Loki carefully arranged your skirts so that he could press as close to you as possible.

“I imagine the same as you, what I will become, should I let the truth of my nature show.”

“And what is your true nature?” You took his hand and traced the darker blue lines that had appeared along the back, dipping between his fingers.

“Odin was not my father, my father was Laufey, of Jotenheim, King of the Frost Giants. That is why I am Loki Laufeyson. Father, Odin, used to say that both Thor and I were born to sit upon the throne. It was only recently I learnt that he meant separate thrones and not a joint ruling of the kingdom as I’d believed. I had imaged that we would share responsibilities, divided by our personal skills in both warring and intrigue. But father had other plans. My brother, of Asgard, would rule over the people that we love, the home that I knew. Yet I, the son stolen from his homeland, was destined for a throne in a room I did not remember, a people I did not know, a land I have visited but once.” He choked on his words, fighting the emotion he’d tamped down for so long.

“Oh, Loki, I’m so sorry. He should never have kept that from you, or teased you and Thor like that.” You squeezed his hands tighter and Loki turned to give you a sad smile.

“Fear not, darling, I do not wish for a throne, it is no great disappointment to me that it belongs to another.”

“What are you afraid of then?”

“My form, this is a body, a form, that I was given as a child by my mother. Frost Giants are unlike Asgardians, I fear that my Jotun form would be a terrifying prospect for all around me, there is precious little regard for me as it is, I should hate to ruin my reputation further.” Loki smiled again, patting your hand. “We should leave, we can return to Tonsberg as planned, we’ll be safe there and we can put this whole sorry mess to rest. We have no need to fear prophecies, we can write our own futures.” Loki seemed so sure, confident that he could walk away from this threat as he had so many others that you almost believed him.

Perhaps you could, but you would have no secrets between you if you did.

You allowed him to rise, but tugged him back when he offered you his hand, “show me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Show me, let it go, be a Jotun, show me.” You repeated, raising your eyebrows and watching him expectantly. “I already saw your skin go sort of blue, what else happens?”

Loki looked almost bashful, “really, darling, I have no concept of what might happen. Frost Giants can be ten feet tall, I would not wish to risk any harm coming to you.”

“Loki, please, look at the size of this room,” you both looked up at the ceiling, though it was so high you could barely see it, shrouded as it was in the darkness of the marble.

“If you insist,” he conceded, “but only for you, my darling.”

Loki stepped further from you, and as he did he began to change subtly. When Loki used his sedir the change could be tracked by the journey of the magic over his body, but this was different. He grew taller and as you watched you missed his hair lengthening, growing down his back. His skin, an icey blue, was marked with more and more intricate designs and his eyes became red. His growth slowed and you stared up at him. Naked and in his full glory for the first time.

Loki must have been at least ten feet tall, if not more, though the ballroom ceiling was still far away he could reach up and touch the cascading chandeliers, he was certainly towering over you, sprawled as you were on the floor, attempting to take in his full height.

“Wow.” You continued to stare, your hand reaching out for him.

“Is wow a positive expression?” Loki asked, his voice still the same, though louder now. The sound vibrated through you and you clenched your legs together.

“Uh - definitely a good thing.” Loki was always beautiful, but this form, so tall and broad, muscular and strong, so purely alien. He was truly a god and you felt small before him. “I bet you could pick me up with one hand.” You said, touching his calf absently.

Loki laughed in response and you felt hot, you hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but it had taken you by surprise how attractive you found this form.

“Probably,” he quirked an eyebrow. “Shall we find out what else we could do?”

Loki bent down on her haunches and extended a hand towards you. His hands were still decorated with whirls of darker blue, and you traced them with your own fingers. With a grin he scooped you up, knocking you backwards so that you landed in his open palms.

Shocked, you gazed up at him open mouthed and his smile didn’t fade, instead it morphed into the teasing grin that knew you were in for both pleasure and mischief.

In this form you looked different too, although Loki was always taller he had certainly never viewed you like this. So small and vulnerable in his hand. He clenched his fingers gently, folding his thumb over your waist and circling your back with his fingers. You curled your arms around his thumb, hanging on tightly.

When he stood you shook, each of your movements amplified in his palm, as if he was back catching creatures in the forests of his youth, a nymph of his own to play with. He clenched his jaw against the thought - a plaything. His own goddess to play with.

“You look so - delicate.” He cooed, keeping his voice lower now you were closer to him.

“You look enormous.” You choked out, heat spreading over your chest and neck despite the chill of his touch. “Please, Loki, distract me from all this?” You asked, he had been right, this was exactly what you needed to feel less alone, less strange in this alien world. But now you needed more of him, you’d never get enough of anything that Loki could offer you, you’d take every facet of him, every version.

“What do you require of me, my tiny darling.” Loki lifted you higher, holding you to his cheek, your legs dangled in the air but your arms reached forward, touching his cold skin.

You leant towards him, pressing your lips against the expanse of smooth skin that covered his still sharp cheekbones, and pressed tickling kisses there, “make me forget, Loki. Please?”

“How could I deny such a polite request.” He cupped his other hand around you and, in a warm shimmer of magic, you felt your clothes vanish from your body. Still surrounded by his fingers your skin tingled, erupting in goosebumps at the press of his cold palm.

Loki lifted you back towards his face and pursed his lips, blowing warm air into his cupped hands and you giggled. You’d been expecting him to launch into some debauched idea of his, knowing that at least ten crackled around his thoughts at all times, but his playfulness caught you off guard as it always did.

“Loki!” You squirmed in his grasp and he held you all the tighter for it, bringing you back to his lips. This time he opened his hands and held you still, his second thumb covering your arms over your head so you couldn’t move, and then kissed the soft swell of your stomach. His lips were as cold as the rest of him, but as gentle as ever.

You giggled again, heat skittering over your skin and then shooting between your legs. His thumb swiped over your body and he kissed you again and again, turning you this way and that to find a spot on your side, on your hip, that he hadn’t yet worshipped.

“My darling,” he sighed, tipping his hand back so that you fell into his palm again, sprawled before him, “what a delicious little morsel you are.” His smile was vulpine and the only warning you got before he licked you, his tongue dipping between your spread legs and swiping up towards your breasts. You squealed in surprise, trying to close your legs but his fingers tangled over them, holding you open and he licked and licked, pausing only to blow gusts of cold air over the heat of your flesh.

“I could eat you forever and never be satiated.” Loki fit his tongue between your legs, teasing the tip against your entrance until you felt him stretch you gently. He angled his tongue upwards, humming softly and you swore you saw all the stars exploding as the vibrations thrummed through your bones. Loki continued, tilting his face forwards so that he nose pressed on your lower stomach, his tongue still angling upwards and your body sang for him, taut and ready.

“You’re devine,” he cooed, the rush of his words like a breeze, cooling your slick as it ran down your sticky thighs.

“Please, Loki, I can’t - I need - I want to cum - I’m going to - agh!”

Like a sacrificial offering he kept you pinned open until you were begging, pleading for more, the ever tightening coil of your arousal turned and turned in your stomach until you could take no more, gushing onto his tongue with a scream of pained pleasure. The sensations were overwhelming, heat and cold and pressure and pleasure and ecstasy all rolled into one.

Loki gave you a few seconds to recover before he lay you onto the table, sprawled before him.

“You are truly a feast, Asynja. Look at you, covered in us both and still smiling.” He kissed your cheek the best he could, swiping his thumb over your belly and thighs, rubbing in his kisses.

Your chest heaved, sweat cooling between your breasts and you longed for his touch again, even if it was icy, anything but this loneliness now that he had put you down.

“Loki -” you gasped, reaching for him and finding one of his large hands, your hand barely fit around his finger but his touch was soothing and pleasant on your heated skin.

He brushed his thumb over your breasts, around your nipples, down, down until he could lift your leg and cup you again, his thumb covering your folds and applying pressure to your aching clit. Your body no longer belonged to you, given over to the pleasure that touch created, your hips lifted, rolling into the pad of his thumb and he let you, a satisfied smile on his face as your pace increased, riding his hand. With an obscene moan you arched from the table and into his awaiting touch.

“You’re not satisfied, darling?” He smirked as you looked at him with heavily lidded eyes, “I promise I’m going nowhere until you are completely sated,” he bent over the table, looming over you and filling your senses, “we shall only leave when you are panting, crying for me to stop.” Loki kissed the side of your face, close enough that you could twine your hands in his hair in an effort to keep him there, so close you thought you could breathe him in. Despite all of the changes to his body, his hair felt the same, soft and silky and smelt like the expensive shampoo he insisted on using. It blended with his usual deep amber scent and something else, perhaps something Jotun, that reminded you of snowy days and icey nights.

“God - Loki - I - fuck me, please.”

You both looked down at the sizable erection tenting his magically enlarged trousers, his words rumbled through you, his lips still at your cheek, “I do not wish to break you, my Asynja, perhaps something else may sate your lusts.” His cock bobbed under his trousers, twitching in time with his words, and you knew without looking in his eyes that he was using every ounce of his self control not to at least try and push himself deep inside of you.

Suddenly his thumb was gone and you gave a low whine at the loss, dropping a hand between your legs to try and continue the glorious cresting of your impending orgasm, but Loki moved your hand away.

“Patience, darling,” he chided, still cupping the backs of your legs, tugging you to the edge of the long table. Instead of his thumb he stroked his pinky finger down your stomach, one hand keeping you still, the other drawing teasing circles over your belly button, lower and lower with each circle.

Even his smallest finger felt enormous, Loki in his usual size was enough of a stretch and heat flooded through you at the thought of trying to take even his finger.

“Lo’,” you were incoherent now, thrashing on the table with every movement, but he pressed on, the pad of his finger at your entrance, spreading your arousal over your clit and pushing slowly, intently, until you felt yourself stretch around him.

“Norns, Asynja, you are the most delicious woman in the nine kingdoms, in every realm, every universe, every time,” he cooed, pressing further until you keened, your hands rushing back between your legs as if to both stop and continue the onslaught of pleasure.

You had never been so full in your life, so full and so loved, held as you were between Loki’s gigantic hands, his lips kissing away the sweat on your brow, sparkling like diamonds in the low light.

“Loki, I - I -” your fingers struggled to find purchase in his hair - on his hands, slipping over his arousal soaked skin and you were dimly aware that that was the feel of you, hot and slick between you, dripping onto the table, before your orgasm hit you at full force, just from the stretch alone.

“Good girl, Asynja,” Loki growled, moving only slightly as your walls clenched around him, he could feel very flutter and movement on his sensitive fingertips and then you gushed, squirting over his finger and soaking the his chin where he perched between your legs.

Loki’s red eyes went darker, a blood red full of his widened pupil and drinking in every inch of your sweating, heaving body, your velvet skirts pushed up around your waist and bare legs shining with your arousal.

“Fuck, Loki - that was -” you dropped your head back onto the table with a thunk, staring glassy eyed at the lights twinkling above.

“It’s my pleasure, my darling.” He drawled, grin feral, tongue poking out between blue teeth. The first lap was soothing on your heated skin, sending goosebumps up and down your legs.

You peered up, tucking your head into your chest to view the god between your legs, still worshipping you, still thinking only of you. It was overwhelming, his devotion, and you wanted - needed, to make him feel the same.

Carefully you eased yourself to the edge of the table, level with his smiling face, and then you let your feet drop to the floor, a hand on his bare chest, pushing him backwards until he lay on the marble floor. Loki was the only other colour in the room, a bright star in the darkness. The bulge of his trousers was pressing against the zipper and you carefully settled on his hip, pushing your hands against the fabric.

It was Loki’s turn to groan now, the sound a deep rumble that travelled down his body and back between your legs. A fresh wave of arousal made itself known, but you tamped down your feelings. It was Loki’s turn now.

He helped you to tug the zipper down, freeing his impossibly large cock from its prison.

“Fuck.” The word was out before you could stop it and you left your mouth hanging open while you took in his full glory. In his Asgardian form Loki was already generously endowed. But as Jotun - you placed your hand against the firm length and marvelled at how delicate his skin still felt, albeit colder than normal. His cock twitched beneath your palm and a large bead of precum slithered from the tip, tracing the contours of a thick vein that ran up the bottom.

“Please -” Loki whimpered, his hands twitching. One came to wrap around your waist, gently holding you, the other he clenched in the fabric of his trousers.

“Can I taste?”

“Yes - of course, please, Asynja, do not torment me, can you not feel how I ache for you. How my body needs you?”

He squeezed his eyes closed, the sound of fabric ripping slowly accompanying the tightening of his first.

“I’d hate to leave you aching, my Prince.” You teased, leaning forwards and wrapping your hands around as much of his girth as you could. Tugging yourself closer to him you let your tongue dancing over his throbbing vein, arching higher towards the flare around the head. Marvelling at the beautiful shades his Jotun form afford him, you missed a second roll of precum escaping down the side and soaking your arm.

“Norns -” Loki clenched his jaw, “I must apologise for -”

“Please, don’t.” You knelt up and licked him again, eagerly tasting as much of him as you could. “You taste a little different, it’s fascinating.”

“Asynja,” he warned.

“Well -” you licked, “you do.”

Reaching the sensitive head you dipped your face towards his slit, pressing your nose into the soft flesh and pushing your tongue down, swirling it and pulsing as he did to you. You were rewarded with more and more of his cum, weeping past your pressing fingers.

“Asynja, I cannot hold back any longer - my darling -”

His cock pulsed, you could feel it against your body were you had pressed yourself against the entire length of him and it felt devine. Your body responded, clit aching for the feel of it.

“Do that again,” you begged, rubbing yourself against him, pushing on his length until you were lying on his stomach, wrapped around him, legs thrown over his base, toes curling.

The hand at your waist squeezed too and you felt the sensation of him moving you gently, the drag and pull of skin on skin, your pussy wet and wanting against his cock.

“You feel so fucking good, my darling, I can’t help it, your little body is perfection, made for me, made for my cock.”

You mewled, licking and sucking at his rigid length, thrusting your hips into him in seach of your own pleasure.

“I’m going to cum, Asynja and you haven’t even tried to move away.” He growled, his voice wavering as he neared his release.

“Don’t want to, Lo, I want your cum, want you to drench me in it, want you to use me and rub me on your beautiful cock, please - please!” Your sobs of pleasure joined his own, a deep knot tightening in the pit of your stomach.

“My goddess, my princess, my darling I will give you every drop you wish for.” He promised, fingers so tight you knew you’d have an array of bruises to enjoy tomorrow, but now, plunged into the most exquisite pleasure you’d ever felt, you latched onto the spot below his glands and sucked and sucked and -

Loki came with a shout, chasing your own release with each pulse of his cock, and spurted down your arms and hands, your back and legs. He painted his own chest in ropes and ropes of cum until he sighed, releasing your body and sagging into the floor.

Slowly he shrank until you were lying chest to chest on the cold floor and laughing.

“Loki, please tell me we can do that again.” You mumbled into his chest, lazily kissing his now, slightly warmer, skin.

“I’d be disappointed if we didn’t.” He agreed, “although I think we may traumatise my poor brother should he stumble upon us. Perhaps it’s time we find him and return to Tonsberg?”

“Can’t we stay here and have a nap?” You closed your eyes defiantly, hoping he’d give in despite how uncomfortable you both were.

“Sadly, I can not allow a Goddess, such as yourself, to take her rest on a such an appalling hard surface. Only the finest pillows and sheets will do for you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “luckily, I know just such a place.”

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viviennevermillion · 1 year

Text

ᴀ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ ɴᴏᴡ ɪꜱ ᴏᴜʀꜱ...

❝ there's no storm we can't outrun, we will always find the sun, leave the past and all its scars [...] ; if we're facing endless night, take my hand and join the fight, past the clouds we'll find the stars... ❞ — cast of once upon a time

notes: these wedding headcanons are part of our @briarvalleyarchives wedding event! it was super fun brainstorming how weddings would be in the characters' homelands. used my own experience of german customs for vil's, for leona i checked out some kenyan wedding traditions and lion king lore! hope you guys like these ♡

contains: wedding headcanons, character x gn!reader

characters: malleus, vil, azul, leona

warnings: some blood in malleus's (pricking your finger)

You were a little nervous, when the day had finally come for Queen Maleficia to introduce you to her kingdom's people as Prince Malleus's fiance. News that the heir to the throne of Briar Valley was getting married travelled very far very quickly, and that despite the lack of modern technology. But contrary to your fears and extensive list of worst case scenarios, you were well-received as Malleus's beloved and your prince was more than excited about the upcoming wedding.

According to Briar Valley traditions, both of your wedding attire is going to be black, as it is the royal color of the Draconia family. Nevertheless, neither the queen nor the people will mind you having a little color on your otherwise black clothing, symbolizing how you were not native to your beloved's kingdom; yet your union made you a part of fae society nonetheless, regardless of your origins.

The wedding venue is deep in the forest and has been in preparation by the castle staff for months. Malleus and you are to be wed under a floral arbor, decorated with roses from Malleus's garden.

On the day of the ceremony, butterflies and fireflies surround the venue and rose petals are scattered across it.

You're waiting under the arbor as the queen leads Malleus down the aisle, guided by small forest fae who were chosen as the ring bearers. They carry a small wooden basket with local plants of Briar Valley and the rings are placed upon them. Halfway through, Queen Maleficia lets go of her grandson's arm and lets him walk the rest of the way to you on his own, symbolizing her trust in him to walk his own path from here on out and a new part of his life beginning. You can see a soft smile on her face that is only seen from the usually so serious and stern queen on rare occasions. The guests are assembled at the side of the venue, watching you unite under the arbor and giving you their blessings.

You and Malleus exchange your vows. He takes your hands into his as he speaks to you. "I have to confess that when I met you, I was inexperienced and still had so much to learn about this world. But sharing these experiences with you, exploring what lies beyond the borders of my home by your side, were some of the happiest moments of my life and I still have no doubt that they marked the beginning of something even more grand to come", Malleus's expression was so loving and soft, but you could also tell how giddy and excited he was feeling inside, "just by being there, you brought so much color and vibrance into my life and made me look at the world through different eyes. From the moment we met, I never wanted to lose you and now I promise to you to stay by your side forever, if you allow me. I love you dearly and with all my heart."

Malleus listens attentively to your vows and his heart beats faster when he hears them. He's definitely tearing up.

In remembrance of the Thorn Fairy, it is custom in Briar Valley to prick your finger on a thorn to sign the wedding certificate. Malleus heals the cut with his magic immediately, so there's no need to worry.

Next you shall be crowned as part of the royal family. Every member of the Draconia family receives a custom-made crown. You have a say in deciding how it looks and Malleus hasn't actually seen it until he gets to place it on top of your head at the ceremony. Before doing so, he kisses the dragon markings on your forehead or the skin where they should be, if you had them, and you do the same with him. Malleus smiles as he feels your lips on his markings, taking your hand into his once more and squeezing it gently. You know him too well not to be aware that he's basically itching to pull you into a kiss.

Malleus and you exchange rings and are pronounced newlyweds. "You may kiss-"

Malleus's lips are already on yours before that sentence is even finished. He kisses you deeply and lovingly and holds you tightly in his arms. He doesn't let go of you just yet even after the kiss has ended, hugging you closely and nuzzling your temple.

It is said that the marriage is sealed with true love's kiss.

The eldest fairies in the royal court bestow their magic blessings on you. How effective these actually are? You're not sure, but you're willing to be surprised.

The wedding reception is held in Malleus's rose garden and the guests are reduced to the royal court, both of your family members, friends and the closest noble associates to the Draconia family.

Bowls with flowers as well as twigs decorate the tables at the reception and fairy lights adorn the rose garden.

Traditional Briar Valley folk music plays as you and your guests dance the night away.

Vil and you ring in your wedding celebrations with a "Polterabend", as is typical in the area of the Shaftlands that Vil lives in. This custom is held on the night before the wedding. The guests bring porcelain, but also commonly flowerpots and ceramics to the party that are later smashed onto the ground, supposedly to bring good luck to the couple.

A barbecue is held to provide food for the guests. Vil made sure there's lots of salads and grilled vegetables as well to provide enough variety of foods. Lively chatter can be heard at the tables between your family members and friends as drinks are served.

This gathering is used as an opportunity to accept well-wishes from acquaintances, co-workers and people who aren't able to come to the actual wedding. They stop by for a while to give wedding cards and small gifts to you and Vil. This includes your former classmates from NRC.

"Epel, I swear to the Seven, this is your grandmother's antique tableware, don't you dare", Vil scolds his Pomefiore underclassman as the porcelain smashing ceremony is about to begin. "Are you kidding me, this is the literal point of this evening", Epel pouts. Vil also has to stop Ace from smashing a whole mirror. "Did you never hear about smashing a mirror meaning 7 years of bad luck?", Vil sighs. "Aw, come on, let them have their fun for the night", you chuckle. Vil raises his eyebrows at you. "If we end up cursed, it's your fault."

The actual wedding ceremony happens on the next day at the registry office. You greet your guests in front of the building and provide them with champagne and juice to toast to your marriage. The guests take their seats and eagerly await the beginning of the ceremony. You and Vil have decided to walk in together. One of your guests sings a love song with a piano accompaniment as you two enter and take your seats in front of the registrar's desk. Vil's dad is tearing up as he sees you walk in to the slow music.

You and Vil exchange vows. "Y/n... I have met plenty of people who have said that there's hardly one who understands beauty better than I do. But you proved to me that there were things I had yet to see and understand about the beauty surrounding me", Vil smiles at you and takes your hand into his, "your love made me see a new kind of beauty in this world and just like the radiance of the Beautiful Queen, our love, too, will shine on eternally. I cherish every day we spend together and I know that I can count on you to be there through the good times and the bad. And I promise that I will stay by your side and love you more with every year that passes. I will be there for you whenever you need me. I love you with all my heart."

You exchange rings (Vil's own design) and the registrar makes your marriage official. Vil seals his promise with a kiss. His kiss is soft and doesn't last very long, but you know he's saving the passionate kisses for later.

The guests congratulate you for your union and you leave the building, getting into the car that has been specifically rented for the occasion and decorated with flowers. With your guests behind you, you drive to the reception, hearing them honk their car horns in celebration of your wedding. "I just know we're interrupting some poor soul's afternoon nap", Vil sighs and chuckles.

A log has been placed in front of the entrance of your wedding reception, resembling the first obstacle you and Vil have to overcome as newlyweds. Vil's father hands you the saw to cut it as per tradition. "Hold on, I need to get my gloves", Vil gets his gloves from the car and you chuckle at how on brand this was for him. God forbid Vil Schoenheit breaks a nail on his wedding day. But since Vil is pretty physically strong, the two of you saw through the log rather quickly. "Magnifique!", Rook exclaims and starts clapping.

As the wedding reception you picked an elegant ballroom that reminds you a lot of Pomefiore during your school years. Carefully designed flower bouquets decorate the tables.

You and Vil sit down at the forefront of the tables where all your guests are able to see you. Before the buffet is opened, one of you holds a speech, thanking the guests for the gifts and their attendance and telling the story of how you met and fell in love. Vil's father and optionally, your closest family members, hold speeches as well to express their joy about your union.

After everyone has finished dinner, you share your first dance on the ballroom floor. Vil being Vil, has actually practiced this dance with you for a while before the wedding. Still, even if you'd step on his foot today, he's too happy to care. A slow song plays as you seem to only have eyes for each other for as long as your waltz lasts.

Once your dance concludes, you open the dancefloor to your guests as well to dance with their partners, friends and family. Vil and you hand-picked every song on your wedding playlist.

Sometime later during the evening, your guests have prepared some speeches and party games for you, including a slideshow of your most important memories together and a round of musical chairs which Vil happens to win.

Azul and you decide to hold two wedding celebrations, both under the sea and on land. You hire a wedding planner to help you set the whole thing up and you convince Azul not to charge the guests for the food.

Only your closest family members and friends attend the wedding ceremony under the sea, to make sure that Azul is able to provide enough potions for all of you to breathe underwater.

He's totally the nervous one out of the two of you. Kinda freaks out internally if anything doesn't go according to plan and during the time you spend planning your wedding, he sometimes needs you to take his mind off things and let him rest his head in your lap as you run your fingertips through your fiance's silver hair.

Since there's no real "wedding attire" for merfolk, Azul receives some traditional coral sea body paint which is temporary and luminous. You cup his cheeks before the ceremony. "You're so pretty", you gush quietly and Azul reminds you to save this for after the wedding with a blush on his face.

Azul's mother has to be the happiest guest. She sweeps her son up in a hug. "Awww my little Azul is getting married....they grow up so fast", she wipes her tears, "I remember when you were just 3 and you tried practicing your signature with ink on our living room walls." You giggle. "Mum...please", Azul groans and hides his expression behind his hand.

In remembrance of the mermaid princess's beautiful singing, the mermaids who have been invited to your wedding sing for you as you are united in front of the altar. Azul wraps an arm around your shoulder as the two of you listen to the siren song.

During your vows, you make sure to drive the point home about how beautiful you think Azul is inside and out, something that still gets him a little flustered even after all this time.

"My dearest y/n", Azul begins his own vows and can't resist pressing a kiss to your forehead before continuing with his speech, "when we met, my heart knew no rest nor satisfaction. I grasped for everything within my reach because I myself was unsure of what I was looking for. I know now, that what I really needed was closure and acceptance and love. You were there throughout my journey so far and I want you to be there for the rest of it. I have grown to love you from the bottom of my heart and I fall in love with you more and more every day. I want to share my future with you and I'll stand by your side, come what may, for as long as you'll let me be part of your world."

You seal your marriage with a soft and loving kiss and Azul can't repress the joyful "It's a deal!" that comes out of his mouth. "The only contract I'll be happy to sign with you", you joke.

You receive headpieces that are decorated with shells, featuring a golden shell reminiscent of the necklace the Sea Witch used to wear as the centerpiece.

After the ceremony you are given gifts by your guests. The merfolk typically give you items from land to accompany you on your journey beyond the sea, a tradition that originated from the collection of the mermaid princess and her union with the human prince.

Your celebration on land happens the day after at the beach. There's food and drinks and the atmosphere is as lively as you would expect from a beach wedding. There's sparklers and a bonfire as well.

As the sun sets, you and Azul are sent off in a boat to a ship you have rented where the celebration continues. Your closest friends accompany you with boats as well before the rest of your guests follow you. Your merfolk guests are watching from the surface of the sea.

The wedding celebration ends with a huge firework at midnight. "I love you", Azul whispers to remind you as the fireworks light up the night sky. He has his arms wrapped around you and presses a kiss to your cheek.

After the guests have left the ship, you and Azul are sent off to your honeymoon together.

Leona sees his family members gather around him and ask him a million questions about your upcoming wedding and everyone seems to have their own ideas for how to improve the festivities for the second prince. “You know”, he holds you in his arms on the evening before the wedding, “it’s not too late to ditch everyone and have a shotgun wedding in a neighboring country.” You chuckle and shake your head. “I think Farena would have a crisis if we did that.”

A couple of months before the wedding, the royal family invites your family and they get together over dinner to get to know each other better and discuss your wedding plans with you. Farena is really happy that Leona is getting married and that he’s seeing him actually put effort into something.

The wedding ceremony is held at Pride Rock, just as recorded for every royal couple since the time of the King of Beasts. You, along with several guests, are wrapped in cloth and Leona has to guess which one is his betrothed. His senses never fail him though.

“You know, it would have been so embarrassing if you actually got it wrong. I would have never let you live this down”, you tease him. Leona shrugs. “Literally no one else here smells this much like herbivore”, he smirks and pokes your side affectionately. “I like to think this is a compliment”, you grin. “It is by now. I thought you were a pain back when I met you”, he whispers into your ear. You roll your eyes with a laugh. “What? I’m not allowed to say this during my vows, might as well do it now”, Leona pulls you close as your guests are busy talking to each other, “I don’t know what possessed you to stick around even through my obvious annoyance and terrible attitude but you crawled your way into my heart. I admit I wasn’t…the easiest person to love in the beginning. But I promise that I’ll never let you down again. Or… overblot. Actually I would appreciate it if we could just forget about the overblot.” Leona cringes. “Anyway, ‘suppose what I wanted to say is, thank you for stickin’ by me. I love you. A lot, actually. There was a long time where I didn’t really see a future for myself. But now I do. And I want to spend it with you.”

You are escorted to the wedding ceremony by your respective families. They shake hands before entering the venue together, accompanied by singing, dancing and drums.

Leona’s official vows are very formal and something you knew Farena had beta-read. Nevertheless, you appreciate the gesture. You and Leona exchange rings and your families sign off on it as you are pronounced a married couple. Leona pulls you close and kisses you, wrapping his tail around your waist.

Your closest relatives and associates of the royal court assemble in a circle with you and Leona and your ceremony is concluded by the Royal Mjuzi giving his blessings for your marriage, just as it had already been done during the times where the King of Beasts roamed these lands. The Royal Mjuzi takes his bakora staff adorned with baobab fruits and shakes it in front of you.

Leona and you light a unity candle before you ascend to the top of Pride Rock along with Farena and the queen. “I could lift you up and show you to the people like they did with Cheka when he was born”, Leona whispered with a smirk on his face. “I would prefer it if you do not do that”, you whisper back and shake your head. “Seriously don’t”, Farena warns his younger brother and Leona lets out a quiet laugh.

When you reach the top of Pride Rock, masses of people from Sunset Savannah have assembled below you, clapping and cheering as congratulations to your marriage. The royal family waves to the people and the live music reaches its climax.

As you descend from the large rock, the elders of the community give their wisdom and encouragement to you and Leona

The celebration after the ceremony happens on the palace grounds. Several emissaries from foreign countries as well as Sunset Savannah nobles have been invited and the celebration is also seen as an opportunity to improve Sunset Savannah’s ties with other nations. “Now we get to talk to stuck-up politicians, advocate for King Farena’s ideas and look pretty”, Leona whispers, never really having dropped the cynicism about his status as the second prince, “unless you’re open for suggestions…” “Leona, we’re not going to ditch the celebration, take a jeep out into the wilderness and kiss under the stars….okay maybe after the event we can do that.” “You know me too well”, your husband chuckles and wraps his arms around you from behind.

“Do you think the great kings of the past give us their blessings as well?”, he asks, looking up at the stars. “I thought you said the stars were just giant balls of hot gas burning millions of miles away from us?”, you raise an eyebrow. “Eh, it’s a pick and choose thing for me, really”, Leona smiles and kisses your cheek, “I love you, herbivore.”

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