#THINKING SEE YOU MY KING WOULDN’T BETRAY ME

[loosingmoreletters]

“Oh, how big are your fandoms?”

Small.

[luvsupa]

“SUKUNA-SAMA..”

tags: heianera!sukuna, trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, kissing… lots of kissing, smut-ish (?),readers called little one, ermm lmk if I forgot sum

w.c: 800

a/n: reposting my fics on here from (@luvsupas) !!

part one here!

sukuna's voice continues to linger in your mind, his gaze making you feel as if he's watching your every move. what did he see in me? why was i spared?

the walk toward your new estate is a journey through confusion and fear. trailing behind uraume and the guards, you glance around the dimly lit corridor, trying to make contact with the other servants and concubines who are already giving you dirty looks and whispering.

when you finally arrive at your quarters, uraume unlocks the door and motions for you to enter. “uraume," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "why did sukuna spare my life?"

uraume's gaze sharpens, a flash of disappointment in their eyes. “you are to address him with the correct honorific." your heart sinks. how am i already managing to piss them off? "i assume sukuna-sama was intrigued." your mind races with questions, but before you can ask any, uraume and the guards depart, leaving you with no further explanation.

pacing back and forth alone in the dimly lit room, your mind is filled with millions of thoughts, but this time, it's about him.

finally, you've had enough of your mind racing, and you make your way toward the wooden door. carefully opening it, loud creaks echo through the hallway. peeking your head through, you see the corridor is empty, the only sound there is the crackling torches lining the hallway.

as you walk down the hallway, you feel his presence, his eyes boring into the back of your head, causing you to stop in your tracks. taking a deep breath, you prepare yourself to look into sukuna's eyes, but when you turn around, you see nothing but a dark corridor.

eventually, you come to see sukuna’s chamber doors, wide open, almost as if he’s baiting you to enter his domain. building up the courage, you step inside, your footsteps barely heard against the stone floor. familiar torches line the steps to his throne. this time, he’s sitting there—eyes closed? he sleeps here? i expected him to have a larger chamber. just as you think you might be safe to turn back and leave, his voice slices through the stillness,

“did you truly think i wouldn’t notice you, little one?"

your heart sinks, and you slowly turn around to see the king of curses' scarlet eyes gazing down upon you. "i didn’t come here to be unnoticed," you retort, mustering the courage to show him you do not fear him. “why did you spare me?"

sukuna looks at you with amusement. the audacity you have to talk back to him is thrilling. “come here," he purrs.

you obey, walking up the steps while maintaining eye contact, feeling the tension thicken. the air feels electric, charged with an unspoken challenge. suddenly, his two lower arms grab your waist and place you on his thick thighs, closing the distance between you. “you want to know why i spared you?" he hums, tilting his head to look at you more closely. you eagerly nod.

his lips curl into a smile at your eagerness, as his upper arm rises and brushes against your cheek in a gentle yet possessive manner. “your lack of caution fascinates me," he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin, "it awakens my curiosity."

his hand moves down, tracing the outline of your jaw, as his eyes follow his movement with a dark, hungry intensity. “you fear me," he continues, his fingers now at your throat, your breath hitching at the sensation. “and yet, there is something else, isn’t there? that draws you to me." his words send a rush of heat through you, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, your body betraying your mind. he chuckles softly, his lips dangerously close to yours.

in that moment, the tension between you snaps. his lips crash onto yours, claiming you with a fierce, demanding kiss. his lower hands snake around your waist, grinding up against you, making you moan loudly at the friction that ignites a new level of pleasure.

sukuna growls in response, continuously rutting against you, causing you to whimper from the intense feeling. his kiss becomes even more demanding, drawing another moan from your lips as you feel him harden underneath you. when he finally pulls away, you are left breathing heavily, his scarlet eyes blazing with a passion that makes your knees weak.

“remember this," he says huskily, "you belong to me, body and soul."

with that, he dismisses you, leaving you with your mind filled with thoughts of him. the taste of him lingers on your lips, a reminder of the power he holds over you. as you turn to leave, you can feel his gaze burning into your back, a silent promise that this is far from over.

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

Deceiving a spy - Azriel x reader

Summary: Azriel thinks his mate betrayed him. Angst to fluff.

Warnings: lots of angst but in a good way, also very fluffy, torture, betrayal (but not really), reader gets hurt, mentions of death

Azriel couldn’t believe it, didn’t want to believe it. For once in his life he hated the abilities he had as a spy, for he wouldn’t be hearing how you’re betraying him now. Not only him, but the entire Night Court. He felt sick.

“I’ll make sure to lead them the other way.” he heard you say to the Hybern soldier, eavesdropping from behind the wall. “Good. And make sure you have some more intel from that High Lord, or the king won’t be pleased with you” the soldier answered.

Az could almost cry. But anger was the first feeling that overcame him. Never in his life would he even imagine you could betray him. His mate. He didn’t know it was even biologically possible, deceiving your other half.

So Az did what he had to do, guided by duty but also anger, disappointment. The Hybern soldier was now gone, leaving you alone. He hid in his shadows, slowly trailing towards you.

You screamed when he grabbed your hands from behind, holding you trapped in his firm grip. You couldn’t see who was behind you, but the smell hit you immediately. Azriel.

“Explain yourself” he gritted out.

You were speachless, your blood turned into ice. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. This didn’t go according to plan. Before words could find you, before you could explain yourself, a panicked stream of tears fell from your eyes.

You felt Azriel wrap a rope around your hands. You could only panick. How could you ever explain yourself? Azriel turned you around. The look in his eyes was even worse. He looked at you with such hatred, full of disappointment. You started hyperventilating then, tears streaming down your face

“How could you.” his voice was cold, the voice you only heard him use with enemies.

“Az, Az please..” you cried out.

He grabbed your arm harshly, the movement going against every instinct in him. You flinched in pain, not only from the firm grip but also from the pain in his eyes. Azriel felt it too, your feelings unconsciously going through the bond. A stinging feeling in his chest.

Suddenly you were somewhere else. Azriel winnowed you somewhere. His dungeon.

You started breathing heavily again, panicked cries leaving your mouth. You knew what Azriel did in his dungeon, you knew what kind of people he brought here.

“Az please, please don’t hurt me” you cried out.

Azriel felt like his heart broke into a million pieces. It pained him physically to see you like that. Him causing you pain, handling you so roughly. The look of pure terror in your eyes, you were scared. But you were the one that betrayed him, you were the one who didn’t love him enough.

“Hybern Y/N, Hybern for gods sake!!” he screamed, the inner conflict making him tug on his hair. He pulled you down on a chair, tying your legs to it.

“I can explain. Please let me explain. I love you.” you pleaded.

Azriel flinched again. “Don’t say that.” You caught a tear falling on his cheek, but he quickly wiped it away.

“I do love you, baby, please” you whispered now, all your hope and energy leaving your body. “My mate, my love, please…” Your head fell back against the chair in dispair.

“Don’t lie to me, don’t manipulate me even more. I can’t… I can’t handle it.” he choked out. Trying his best to ignore the ache in his chest when he heard you utter those loving words.

“I’m getting Rhys” he decided. This was the right choice, he couldn’t judge you fairly. Not when you looked at him like that. He was supposed to protect you. He was your mate. And now you sat there, utterly devastated. Still looking at him with so much love in your eyes.

It was all so conflicting. So Az winnowed away.

—

The moment Az explained everything to Rhys and Cassian, they immediately winnowed to the dungeon. But said dungeon was empty. Utterly empty. You were gone.

“What?” Az breathed out in shock. “She was just here”

“You think she escaped? Did you ever tell her how to get out?” Cassian asked.

“N-no, we barely talked about this stuff”

Rhys frowned, “I’ll try to reach her.”

“No, she won’t answer Rhys, she’s loyal to them” Azriel shook his head.

But Rhys didn’t answer, a focused look on his face. He started frowning. He seemed worried.

“What is it?” Azriel couldn’t hide the worry in his voice, even after the unforgivable betrayal. He couldn’t help but still care for you.

“They… shit… they took her” he sighed, nervously rubbing his jaw.

“What? Who took her? Where?” Azriel started pacing around nervously.

“Hybern, they took her. They know. They found out” Rhys’ voice was full of worry now.

“What did they find out?” Cassian asked confused.

“That she… Shit Az…” Rhys sighed, giving Az an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, you were wrong brother. She… she’s a double spy. She was misleading them”

Az was immediately drowned by guilt. Tears filling his eyes again. A blinding pain in his chest. You didn’t do anything wrong.

And he… he didn’t listen. He… tied you up.

And you were in danger now, he then realised. They had to move quick. The mood suddenly chanhed when he turned into action. Grabbing some knives and a sword from the wall.

“Where is she.” he stated with the familiar lethal coldness of the shadowsinger. He could feel guilty later, but he had to move. Now.

“Not too far away, we need to be quick they’re… they’re going to torture her into talking” Rhys’ voice was pained too.

“Then what are we waiting for?” Az suddenly screamed. His brothers had never seen him like that. So uncontrolled, so desperate.

—

Even though you were in so much pain, you could only think about one thing. Azriel’s face when he found you. The torture from the Hybern soldiers was nothing in comparison to that face.

You would die in here. You would die with your mate thinking you betrayed him. And he will never know the truth.

Another hit from the lash hit your body. But you were out of screams, out of breath. You were tired. You just wanted to drift away. To fall into an endless dream where Az would be, ready to hold you and kiss you, to tell you everything was okay.

Your eyes fell closed when the torturing finally stopped. Maybe they finally took a break. You could almost feel Azriel, waiting for you in that dream. You could smell him.

“Y/N” you heard him say. “Y/N!” he said again, more panicked now. His voice, his smell, it made all your fears drown. Were you dead then?

“Az-Azzie, baby, I’m so sorry” you mumbled to the voice.

“Open your eyes, baby, please,” you felt a scarred hand on your cheek, softly stroking it.

That’s when you opened your eyes. It was real, Azriel was really there. You weren’t dead.

“Azriel” you started crying in relieve. Your mate quickly started to undo your restraints. That’s when you noticed Cassian and Rhys, who were fighting the final soldiers standing.

They had come. They had come to save you.

When all the ropes where finally cut, you immediately fell into Azriels arms. You could only cry, wrapping your arms tightly around his body, burrying your wet face in his neck, breathing in his smell.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry, I- I didn’t… It wasn’t true, I didn’t betray you.. I..” you tried to explain but you couldn’t find the words.

“I know baby, I know. I’m so sorry, I will never hurt you again, please forgive me sweetheart.” Azriel was crying now too.

He grabbed your face gently, his teary eyes looking into yours lovingly, but also full of guilt.

“You didn’t believe me when I said I loved you.” your bottom lip trembled.

Az stroked your hair gently. “I’m so sorry I didn’t belive you. I love you so so much, my mate” he cried out. He kept touching all over your face, as if trying to make sure you were really there.

“I love you” he said again, pushing a soft kiss on your lips. You kissed him back more passionately. “I love you, I love you” he kept repeating like a prayer in between the kisses. Grabbing you, holding onto you, scared you’ll slip away again.

“Az i’m… I feel dizzy and my leg… it hurts…” you suddenly whined, pointing at your body. You were severely hurt, Azriel remembered again. Your eyes were lidded and you were pale.

“Shit. Shit, shit.” he started panicking again. “Rhys, we need a healer, immediately” he cried out.

—

You’ve been unconscious for a day, mostly because of the pain killers. Az didn’t leave your bed all day, holding your hand and waiting for you to wake up. He was flooded by guilt and disgust towards himself. Don’t blame yourself, brother, you couldn’t know, Cassian had said. But he should have known. His beautiful, sweet girl. You would never do this.

Azriel was shaken from his thoughts when he heard you moan next to him. He grabbed your hands tighter. “Azzie” you mumbled.

“Hey baby, hey, I’m here” he reassured you.

A soft smile appeared on your lips, making his heart melt. You squeezed his hand back reassuringly.

“A-are you, are you still mad?” you whined, opening your eyes slowly.

“Ofcourse not baby, no, no, don’t ever think that. I’m the one at fault” Azriel whispered, his hands stroking your soft locks, trying to comfort you.

“I should’ve told you. My plans about the spying.” you answered sadly. “Don’t worry about that now, it’s all over now, you’re safe, we’re okay” he smiled.

It was silent for a moment, you only looked into each others eyes. You patted the empty spot on the bed, signaling him to come lay next to you. Azriel gave in, wrapping his arm and wing around you protectively. You laid your head on his chest and he placed a loving kiss in your hair.

“I’ve hurt you. You were scared of me. I can’t believe I did that. I was so rough with you.” he whispered sadly, trying to hide the upcomming panick.

“I forgive you, baby, I really do. I get why you did it.” you mumbled, almost falling asleep again because of the comfort and warmth of his body wrapped around you.

“I’ll never do it again. I’ll trust you more from now on.” he promised.

“My love, you already trust me enough. I noticed how you held back, how you still cared for me. Even though it was a worst-case scenario. Our love still conquered it all” you sighed, eyes falling closed.

“You noticed?” he muttered.

But you didn’t answer, he carefully looked down to see you asleep.

“Sleep well my dear, I’m here to protect you.” he whispered, kissing your forehead, before he fell asleep too.

—

[scarlet-star-witch]

The shackles of duty

Summary: In the aftermath of Aegon's fall in the Battle of Rook's Rest, Aemond envisions his future as King with his Queen at his side

Reader is Rhaenyra's daughter and in a secret relationship with Aemond

Part 2 to His Sacrifice

WC: 2.2 K

Warnings: Implied smut, possessive Aemond, kinda dark Aemond, but not really, he's more pathetic than anything

~~

Aemond stared at the plumes of smoke that billowed from where his brother and his dragon had fallen. 

His heart still raced with satisfaction, the adrenaline pumping through his veins keeping him in an almost high-like state he never wanted to come down from. His victorious smirk remained as he turned to the woman beside him who stared at the smoke with a conflicted expression. 

“With any luck, Aegon has perished, or at least will in due time.” 

She looked to Aemond, the furrow in her brow deep, betraying her indecision and unease.

She always knew what Aemond was capable of, she knew of the darkness within him, but to see it now, displayed so blatant before her very eyes, shook something within her, something she didn’t know she could feel towards the man she had loved for so long. 

Aemond grabbed her hands, holding them in his tightly as he turned to face her fully. 

“We can go back to King’s Landing. With Aegon’s state, I will be named Regent. I will sit the throne and you will be my Queen.” 

“What?” She breathed out, the only word she’d been able to speak in the past few minutes. 

“Aegon is not long for this world, surely. It won't be long until I become King. No one can deny us anything now. We can marry, you can stay with me by my side, we can rule together.” Aemond spoke with a franticness that was so unlike him, it unsettled her more than the gleam of desire in his eye in that moment. 

“Aemond…”

“We can finally be together.” He reminded her as his hand reached out to grasp her cheek affectionately, the longing he displayed tearing her insides, as if she were being pulled in two radically different directions. 

She watched him for a long moment, savoring the sight of that beautiful face she’d spent the past few years memorizing, every perfect dip and curve that never failed to leave her breathless, and emotion swelled as she realized she’d have to break his heart. 

“I can’t go with you.” She told him, her voice barely above a whisper, as if it would soften the blow, as if saying it quietly would mean it wouldn’t completely destroy him. 

His lip twitched, his smile fading slowly as he took in her words, praying he had misheard her. His grip on her hands tightened, as if he could keep her with him, as if he could forever stop her from leaving his side. 

“But…”

“Aemond, you know I cannot go with you. No one will accept-”

“Fuck what they think! You are mine and the second I sit on that throne I can make it so. No one could stop us.” 

She shook her head and moved to pull away, but he didn’t let her, his hand sturdy in hers, a look of heartbreak on his face as he felt her hesitation. 

“We are at war, Aemond. Our marriage will not solve anything, it won’t miraculously dissolve what is happening in our family, it will only create more chaos.”

“I don’t care.” Aemond spoke through gritted teeth as he stepped towards her, his hands now cradling her face. “I don’t give a shit about this war, you are all I want.”

She sniffled, bowing her head to avoid looking into his eye. It was too painful to see how she was hurting him. 

“Think about what you are asking of me.”

“I am asking you to be with me.”

“You are asking me to abandon my mother!” She yelled. 

His chest ached, the rush he’d been thriving on suddenly turning to despair as he looked at her, realizing he wouldn’t soon have her in his arms as he had hoped. 

“We can fix this.” He spoke with reverence, but it did little to soothe the storm within her. 

“Maybe we could have… but that was before- before Lucerys.” 

Aemond flinched, recoiling as if she had delivered a physical blow. 

“You know my regret for what happened. You know I would have never willingly jeopardize-”

“I know, I know.” She whispered tearfully, her hands moving up to grip at his wrists, feeling his pulse race beneath her touch. 

She remembered the night after learning of her brother’s death as she met Aemond on their Island, how he immediately fell to his knees in forgiveness, how he let her scream and cry and rage at him, how they held each other as they cried, knowing the state of their family had broken beyond repair, ruining what little chance they thought they had to one day be together as they wanted. 

She wiped her tears and with one last gentle caress to his hands, pulled them away from her, taking a step backwards before he could reach out to her once more. 

“I have to go.”

With every step she took away from him, he took a step closer, his face shifting each time she moved, his frown growing deeper and deeper as it abruptly dawned on him that he was about to lose her, yet again.

“Please, don’t do this.” 

“I’m sorry.” She choked out, the sight of him blurring as tears sprang to her eyes. She turned and didn’t look back as she climbed upon Vermithor, ignoring the pit that grew in her stomach, ignoring the voice in the back of her head that screamed at her to stay with him. 

She didn’t dare spare him a look. She knew she’d cave if she did, that she would fall back into his arms and pretend the rest of the world didn’t exist. 

She wiped her tears as she flew, ignoring the pull she felt to her other half as the distance between them grew greater. 

~~

A yell of pure rage escaped him as he flipped the table in his room. He grabbed anything he could get his hands on, throwing any and every object he found across the room, destroying everything in his line of sight. 

His bed was in disarray, the tapestries that lined the walls torn to pieces at his feet, candles knocked to the ground, trinkets shattered into nothing but dust as he raged. 

He only stopped when there was nothing left to ruin. 

His chest heaved with exertion as he let himself slump against his bed, burying his face in his hands as he struggled for breath, forcing himself not to let his tears fall. 

His mind raced with her words, each like a dagger to the heart, each one tearing away a piece of him, leaving him unwhole and untethered to the one thing in the world he cared about. 

Nothing made sense without her. It had only been hours and he was already spiraling. 

Simply picturing her beautiful face caused his chest to ache, as if the dagger of her words had been real, causing him to bleed and fade away until there was nothing left of him. 

He could not let this be the end. 

With a half-formed plan in his mind, he stood with haste and reached for his cloak, ensuring the hood covered his head and stepped out of his room, his steps quick and purposeful. 

He would not let her slip away from him again. 

~~

Her mind was racing, keeping her from her much needed sleep. She couldn’t stop picturing Aemond’s face, the pain she had caused him stirring her own. 

She couldn’t ignore the regret that overtook every inch of her. While she loved her mother and longed to see her as Queen, she couldn’t deny that Aemond had stitched himself within the fabric of her, he was now a part of her she couldn’t ignore. 

She didn’t quite know when it happened, all she knew was that it was too late to go back now, too late to pretend she felt nothing for him. She couldn’t move forward without him. 

She had to see him.

She hissed a curse and tore the covers off, getting to her feet and dressing in her riding leathers quickly, acknowledging the stupidity of her plan, but steadily ignoring it. 

It was easy to sneak out of the castle. She’d been doing it for years now, she could do it with her eyes closed. 

It took little time to get Vermithor in the air and on the course for King’s Landing, her heart in her throat as she flew. She didn’t know what awaited her, what danger she would be placing upon her head, all she knew was that once there, Aemond would never let any harm befall her. 

It was the only assurance she needed to drive forward into enemy territory. 

Suddenly, the bellowing roar of a dragon sounded over the din of the wind. 

She startled and narrowed her eyes, the moon providing light for her to see, but as the hulking figure of the dragon coming before her became clear, she soon realized, her eyes widening as she stared back at Vhagar. 

A breathless laugh escaped her, pure relief overtaking her as she realized Aemond was in the same state she found herself in, unable to settle for their circumstance. 

She pulled at the reins, directing Vermithor to descend, heading towards their Island with Aemond following seconds behind. 

The two mighty dragons landed and their riders met each other's gaze, the both of them taking a moment to simply admire each other, their shared smiles of equal relief and awe that they had had the same thought, the same longing to see each other. 

Her hands almost shook with anticipation as she untied herself from the saddle. 

She felt nervous, as if it were their first meeting in secret, as she approached him, but her reservations didn’t last as Aemond stepped towards her quickly, with no hesitation.

A shaking breath escaped her as she was pulled into his arms. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered weakly, her voice strained as her throat tightened, overwhelmed to be back in his loving arms. 

He shook his head and held to her tighter, softly whispering his relief to see her again

Time was lost to them as they embraced, as they held each other as only lovers could. 

“I don’t know what will happen next.” She mumbled, hating to break the moment with their reality, but it wasn’t something they could ignore for much longer. 

“I don’t either.” He admitted quietly. “But what I do know is that, whatever I do, it will not be without you. I don’t care how many times I will have to chase you down and bring you back to me, I won’t lose you.” 

“You won’t have to chase me. I’m not going anywhere.” 

His exhale of relief was loud and she barely had time to apologize again before he was kissing her firmly, leaving them both breathless and lightheaded with desire. 

His touch was desperate as he laid her down in the dewey grass. It was familiar to them, these fleeting and frantic touches all they could spare in the war that ravaged their families. 

He took her with an intensity as if it had been years since he’d felt her touch and not mere days as it had been. She felt more loved than ever before as he lavished his praise onto her, as his lips caressed every inch of her, as he made love to her with the burning passion as only a man in love could. 

Their cries of pleasure echoed on the desolate Island, their secret remaining shrouded in darkness and isolation. 

As he spilled his seed within her, his call of her name sending shivers down the length of her body, she held him tightly, wishing she could hold onto him forever, wishing she didn’t have to leave his side time and time again. 

He wasn’t quick to part from her, laying over her, his hands still eager to touch her, to remember the curves of her body in fear that it would be the last time. 

But they would never let it be the last, not as long as they still breathed life. 

He left her side with a promise to see her the next night. 

There was no mention of the throne, of titles or battles. It didn’t exist in their time together, the both of them determined to blissfully ignore the reality that was slowly crushing them, slowly pulling them further and further apart, no matter how hard they tried to fight it. 

~~

He lingered in her mind as she woke alone but sated, the phantom bliss of his touch, bringing a smile to her lips in the early morning. She could still feel the warmth between her thighs, feel the pleasurable burn of the marks he had left on her body. 

She smiled politely as her maid entered, placing breakfast down for her. 

“Is there anything else I can get for you, Princess?” 

Moon tea.

The words were on the tip of her tongue. She trusted her handmaiden, she’d never given her a sideways glance over the past years when she requested the drink. Her mother was still blissfully unaware, which meant her maid was at least keeping her secret. 

Yet the words didn’t come, a decision made in a fraction of a second. 

“No, thank you. That is all.” 

As her maid left, her hand drifted to her stomach, a smile forming on her lips as she wondered what their child would look like. 

~~

Hope you enjoyed! I have more Aemond content coming! I literally have a thousand ideas for this beautiful man, so stay tuned xx

[starogeorgina]

𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞

Paring: Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen reader , Aegon II Targaryen × Targaryen reader

Warnings: Swearing, smut

1.03

“If you come to Dragonstone with me, I promise I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”

Your lower lip wobbles. You wanted to leave with him, but realistically, it wasn’t plausible. “And what happens once we arrive at Dragonstone? Your mother and Prince Daemon just accept me with open arms?”

Jacaerys looks down at his feet. He knew they wouldn’t trust you, nor would they likely wish for you to be in their home. “No, they wouldn’t at first,” he gulps down. “But we could make them see you played no part in the plan of usurping my mother's throne.”

“I didn’t even know my father had died until servants were sent to help me get dressed for Aegon’s coronation. How can I prove that?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

“Whatever road I take, I’ll end up in the same situation.” Feeling uncomfortable, you unconsciously pick at the skin surrounding your finger nail until it bleeds. “If I return home without Stark’s backing Aegon, I will need to face the wrath of being a failure and disappointment to my family. If I go with you to Dragonstone, and I bend my knee to Rhaenyra I’m leaving my sister and her children with the vipers.”

Suddenly your hands are pried apart. “Stop hurting yourself.”

The authority in Jacaerys tone takes you by surprise. Like most dragons, he had a fiery temper, but this was different. It was as if he was putting all his built-up rage aside to protect you. Meekly, you say, “habit.”

Jacaerys inspects your fingertips, frowning as he takes in the older cuts along with the newer ones. He turns your left hand over and runs his thumb over your palm. “I remember playing outside in the gardens when you fell and cut your hand. I’m surprised it didn’t scar.”

“I remember…” Despite your eyes becoming glossy, a chuckle escapes your lips. “My mother somehow blamed you for my falling, and you hid in your quarters for days.”

“I hid in my quarters because Ser Harwin saw me attempt to kiss your hand; I thought my mother and father would be mad when he told them.”

You smile; this was the first time you heard his version; all you remember clearly was your mother yelling in the privacy of her apartments that the ‘eldest bastard’ was to blame. “I’m guessing they weren’t?”

“Once I explained that I wanted to comfort you, she went to visit King Viserys and proposed our betrothal.” He lets go of your hands and moves his own up to gently cup your face.

“Things could have been so different if my grandsire hadn’t gotten into my mother's head. Do you think we would have been happy?”

“We still could be.”

You feel as if the air has been sucked from your lungs, making it hard to breathe. “Wh-what do you mean?” Jacaerys couldn’t possibly be implying what you thought he did. “What do you mean we still could be?”

“Marry me, here in Winterfell.”

“You have more courage than any knight I know for even suggesting such a thing.”

A smile curls on his lips. “It’s not a jest. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember; if you say no, I will respect that. But if you agree, for the rest of my life, I will spend every day loving you and keeping you safe. Nobody will ever be able to hurt you again.”

His eyes follow your movement as you bring his fingers to your mouth and plant a gentle kiss on them. “My sweet prince, we cannot. Aegon told me, If I betray him, then it’s your life he will take.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

—

Since Northern wedding vows were shared in front of a weirwood tree in the presence of the old god that they believed in, you wanted to be careful not to offend them with your Old Valyrian custom, so Jacaerys purposed you did the ceremony yourselves, outside, surrounded by nothing but the moonlight and your dragons flying above.

You cut each other's lips with a blade made of dragonglass. Jacaerys cuts his hand and rubs a mark on each of your foreheads to signify the continuation of your bloodline. You pledge to each other, “one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

“I’ve va moriot jorrāelatan ao.”

“My sweet Jacaerys, I feel the same way.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and saying everything you wish becomes difficult. Jace leans down, pressing his cold lips against your own. An electric spark you’ve never felt passes through you; it was strong enough to make the snow nipping at your skin momentarily disappear. You wanted this; you wanted him. Jacaerys finally being yours felt surreal—a dream you didn’t want to wake up from.

He pulls back slightly and mumbles against your lips, “We should go back inside. I don’t want my bride to catch a cold.”

—

Nervously, you walk towards the bed covered in layers of fur and find yourself almost digging at your nails again, but when you feel a gentle kiss pressed to the back of your neck, the tension you're holding eases slightly, but the butterflies in your stomach aren’t completely gone.

“We don’t need to do anything,” Jacaerys says quietly. “We are married now; there is no rush.”

You did want to be intimate with Jace, but now that you were standing here, you felt unworthy of him. Bruises from Aegon holding you tightly still lingers on your skin, and it made you feel disgusting.

“I do, but... I’m afraid of what comes next,” you admit. “The repercussion of—”

He cuts you off with a kiss and says, “Whatever happens next, I’ll protect you.”

For once you hold your tongue, not wanting to loudly question how impossible that would be, You sigh, “I wish I could turn all the thoughts in my brain off, even for a short time, so I could revel in my husband's warmth.”

“I could help with that.”

Curious, you lock eyes with him. “What do you mean?”

“I could make you feel good without having sex, but only if you wish it.”

Chewing on your bottom lip, you nod. You weren’t entirely sure what his plan was, but you trusted Jace enough to follow through with his words. Taking your hand, he guides you to lay back on the bed. He kisses down your neck. “Promise me, you’ll tell me if you want me to stop.”

“I promise.”

Jacaerys kisses down your clothed body until he reaches your thighs. He pushes your skirts up to your waist, then slowly pulls your small cloth down. You await the stinging stretch of Jace pushing his cock into you at any second, but instead you feel his hot breath on your core. “Wh—what are you doing?”

“I’m going to taste the sweetest thing the gods ever made.”

“Do you mean—oh fuck!”

Jace spreads your folds open with his fingers, then dips his tongue inside of you.

“Gods, that feels good!”

One of your trusted ladies in waiting once told you that a gold cloak had ‘eaten her cunny’ and shared how good it felt. Ever since you had been curious about the act, this was far better than anything you could have imagined. Jace hooks his arms around your thighs, holding you in place while turning his attention to your clit and flicking over it with his tongue.

Lewd moans fall from your mouth as the coil in your stomach snaps, and you reach the first climax a man has ever given you.

Jace wipes his glistening lips and chin with his sleeve before moving up the bed and laying beside you. He presses a soft kiss to your lips, then gently caresses the soft flesh of your thigh. “We don’t need to go any further.“

“I want you, Jace; I want this.”

Hearing those words fall from your lips, he quickly lowers his breeches until his hard cock springs free. Jace rolls over, lines himself up with you, and slowly begins to push inside you. His thrusts are gentle as his touch is soft, making you feel cared for, almost safe. Jace peppers your neck in kisses while bringing his thumb to your clit and starts to rub it, taking great pleasure in how tightly you squeeze him. “Gods,” he moans. “You’re so perfect, my love; I think you were made for me.”

Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, but you fight to hold them back, not wanting to ruin the moment. Jace notices and immediately stops his movements. “Am I hurting you? Do you want me to stop?”

“No, keep going, please, please!”

Slowly he starts to thrust into you again; he seems unsure until you wrap your legs around his waist, which encourages him to go faster again. It doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak for the second time, and Jacaerys isn’t far behind.

—

Your fingers glide over Jacaerys bare back as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. The both of you were sticky with sweat, but you’d stopped caring hours ago.

While being so caught up in making love, Jacaerys hadn’t noticed the bruises on your body until he collapsed, panting and gasping beside you. If it wasn’t for exhaustion overtaking him, he would still be expressing his fury.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, his voice laced with sleep.

“How the sun is rising.”

Looking out the window, you can see the orange and pink hues of the sky, and the snowfall is becoming heavier. You take a deep breath, feeling the cool morning air fill your lungs.

Whatever happens next, you must remember that you’re the blood of the dragon, and you must be strong.

I’ve always loved you — I’ve va moriot jorrāelatan ao

[seeingivy]

picnic

sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

(^^make sure you check since this was a double upload and I posted the last one very recently :D)

--

dear head of the cullen clan,  keep evening plans open – im getting off work early and we’re going on a picnic.  coldest regards,  the head of the volturi  (ps. am expecting a very wholehearted appreciation for the fact that it’s coldest regards and not warmest regards, because they are, in fact, vampires and therefore cold. because they don’t have a heart and such.)  (extra ps. this is a link to a shared spotify playlist. i’ll add a song and then you add one. we’ll keep it going.) 

you snort. 

dear aro of the volturi (does he have a last name???),  so much to unpack in one email, yet again. you really know how to keep a girl on her toes.  first and foremost, you are SOOOO ran through. so offended that i wasn’t the person who got to put you on to twilight and whoever it was, I HOEP SHE DIES! if you’re team jacob, you’re a freak.  second, SO VERY FLATTERED that you think i would be carlisle. a little haunting that you think YOU would be aro…but it’s ok cuz former companions to enemies back to lovers in our case would be kind of crazy???  third. done and done. i just added a song so hurry up bc i have like ten other songs i want to add and i am #impatient  see u after work pookie :D,  carlisle cullen  (very appreciative of the cold regards. you are a king among men.) 

his response back is very prompt. 

Never call me pookie again.  (very offended that you think i’d be stupid enough to be team jacob. and direct your murderous rage towards yuuji and my mom, who forced me to watch it in theaters with them.) 

--

you wait for sukuna at the park two blocks down the apartment complex. the sun is hours away from dipping into the horizon, the chilly wind rustling through the trees. you realize now that the red skirt and white sweater might betray you in a few hours but decide that you’ll simply have to steal his jacket when he gets here. 

and you would have already but he’s twenty minutes late.

and while this part of the city is extremely safe, sukuna’s ever constant fear of people attacking you on subway trains and stabbing you in alleyways has instilled an acute fear of strangers in you, which is why you’re gripping the sparkly pink pepper spray he bought you very harshly in your palm right now. 

you think it’s sweet that he bought you a pink one. 

but of course it’s severely ironic that you almost used it on him. 

because he scares the living daylights out of you, by placing his hand around your shoulder from behind. 

“hey. i’m sorry i-” 

“jesus fuck-” 

you instinctively hold the pepper spray up to his face, your hands shaking in front of you. 

“i’ll use it, you pervert!” 

sukuna leans his head to the side, which is when you’re finally able to log that it’s actually him standing in front of you and not a stranger, and you drop your hands in embarrassment. 

“i mean, i’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t doll face but–” 

“oh my god, sukuna. i thought you were trying to rob me!” 

“i’m smarter than that. the only thing inside your purse is lip gloss, which has very little value to me.” sukuna responds, dropping the little basket at his feet and taking the little stalk of flowers out of the top handle. 

“i’ll have you know that it’s actually sold out in every store right now. so you could make bank if you sold it.” 

“don’t tempt me. and for your sake, i’ll accept the apology you didn’t give me for just trying to rob me of my eyesight and for calling me a pervert? i’m getting really tired of the age gap jokes, y/n.” sukuna responds, as he lifts your hands at your sides and places the stalk of flowers in your hand. 

you give him a big smile as you press your nose to the flowers, the scent fresh in your nose. and sukuna props down, setting a billowing white blanket on the ground before he taps the spot next to him and signals for you to sit next to him. 

“who needs eyes?” you joke, as you squeeze his hands and set the flowers down next to the little basket. 

“me, dipshit. how else am i supposed to look at you?” 

you cover your hands with your cheeks as you watch him place all of the little things inside the basket next to you, laying them out perfectly. it’s albeit a weird assortment – two wine glasses, perfectly wrapped sandwiches, a mini-cake, and strawberry lemonade. 

“well, stop perceiving me. this is so weird!” you murmur. 

it’s enough to catch his attention and stop him in his tracks. 

“what?” 

the question makes you pause. and a little embarrassed. it was a little harsh to say while you were joking.

“oh, i mean…i didn’t mean it like that! i was making a joke about perceiving because eyes…vision…and i almost took your vision away! and you perceive with your eyes, because how else would you see…” 

sukuna smiles, before shaking his head, and continuing spilling out the last of the contents – a set of gouache paints and two little small canvases. and he drops to his feet, yanking his shoes off, before sitting flat on the blanket and gesturing for you to join him. 

“there’s no way in hell that was what you meant. but we’ll ignore that for the time being.” sukuna responds, hiking his legs to his chest and gesturing towards the spread he just put out. 

you tilt your head to the side in confusion. 

“you look very pretty today.” sukuna responds. 

“thanks! you too!” 

he narrows his eyes. 

“uh huh. well, pick what we do first. the paint, the sandwiches, or the weird wine glass cake.” 

“the wine glass cake? like from tiktok?” you ask. 

“correct. i’m really bad at…cute dates. so…i did some research.” 

sukuna refuses to look at you. because after admitting it, he’s suddenly busied himself with reading the back of the box of paints, like it’s the most riveting, intriguing thing he’s ever read in his life. 

but the pink flush that’s creeping down his neck betrays him entirely, as you reach forward and push the little box down. and sukuna’s already glaring at you. 

you place your chin on the top of his knees, reaching for one of his hands and smiling. 

“you did research for a date?” 

“you can choke on your spit.” 

you grin. 

“you really know how to turn a girl on.” 

“you’re filthy.” 

you grin. 

“and you’re actually so precious, i–” 

“don’t call me precious, y/n.” he whines, as he reaches forward to flick on your forehead. 

you smile as you sit by his side, tucking the folds of your skirt under your leg as you reach for both of the wine glasses and hand him one. 

“so how humbling was it to have satoru explain all this to you?” you ask. 

he sneers. 

“don’t even ask. he’s like the biggest nuisance i’ve ever met in my life. top ten worst moments of my life.” sukuna responds. 

“i’m flattered you humbled yourself to him for me.” 

“i actually asked suguru. they’re like…two peas in a pod, they can’t do shit without each other. the paints and stuff they gave me and the nice basket too.” 

“that’s sweet of them. remind me to send them something later to thank them.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“no need. they were more than happy to give it up for you.” 

“ah yes. i hear they’re big fans of this camping bag story. the scouts honor and the fake story we had to tell them makes a lot more sense now.” you respond. 

sukuna rolls his eyes. 

“okay, you know what? sue me. i was like sixteen sleeping next to a girl for the first time. god forbid i enjoyed myself. and i don’t know why they’re all so hyperfixated on that story because it was a very normal thing to assume when you’re asked that question.”  

you snort. 

“and you say you’re not a pervert…” 

sukuna leans forward, his eyes flitting down to his lips before he looks back up at you. and he can tell that you’re in a mood, that you’re trying to push his buttons by annoying him. 

“you know i despise you right?” he whispers. 

you grin, leaning in. 

“is that right?” you whisper back. 

“oh yeah. you irritate me.” 

there isn’t even a shred of earnestness in the words he’s uttering. you know he doesn’t mean them. 

“keep going.” you respond, as he presses a warm kiss to the side of your cheek. 

“you’re a nuisance.” – a kiss to your forehead. 

“an irritation.” – a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

“like a fucking thorn in my side.” – and a kiss to the sweet spot right in your neck and his hand snaking up your thigh, which makes you nearly keel your head back from the sensation. 

you place your hands on his cheek and pull him back, face flushed and his eyes nearly glazed over. 

“are you crazy?” you whisper. 

“what?” he asks. 

“we’re in public, dumbass. you can’t just start trying to rile me up.” 

sukuna leans back, obliging. 

“so you admit it? i was riling you up?” 

“oh, shut up.” 

you reach for the sandwiches and unpeel one for sukuna. before he takes it, he places a tiny white box in your lap. 

you frown. first the fancy date but the jewelry too? 

“sukuna. you didn’t–” 

“just open it. i’m impatient and i’ve been waiting all day. and i actually think you’ll like it. otherwise, you’re ungrateful and rude and you hate me.” sukuna responds. 

you give him a tight lipped smile before you open the little box and actually smile. 

it’s a dainty silver chain – the exact same as sukuna’s from the chain-links, but the build is a little thinner. and right at the center, a little charm of a star. 

you reach forward for his chain, dangling around his collarbone. and surely enough, in addition to the original charm he had of an interlocked circle, there’s a star charm added right next to it. 

“you always reach for it. when you’re talking or when we’re kissing. figured i’d get you your own since you’re such a big fan.” 

“you are so…” 

“perfect? sexy? the father of your children?” 

“i was thinking adorable. can i answer d for all of the above?” you respond. 

sukuna grins. 

“survey says yes, princess.” he responds. 

you yank the chain from the little box and hand it to him, before turning around for him to secure it on you. his fingers tickle against the nape of your neck, accompanied by a warm kiss, before he taps your shoulders to signify that he’s done. 

“you know. you really are perceiving me right now.” you respond. 

“and how’s that?” 

“i know you’re obsessed with me and pay attention to every word i say.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“obviously.” 

you jab at his side. 

“i mean, i know you’re doing this because i mentioned picnics yesterday and always feeling left out. sure you could put two and two together that he never really bought me any nice gifts or anything when i said he ruined my birthday.” 

“okay, captain obvious. and?” 

you shove him once more, before leaning your head against his shoulder. 

“well, i appreciate it. i know the whole…cutesy painting date isn’t your thing. we won’t have to do it again. and that you…you’re trying to make this whole thing special for me.” 

sukuna scoffs. 

“i’m offended. first and foremost, i always like to eat with you. every time i think that there’s no way you can amaze me more, you find another way to spill food on your clothes.” 

“hey! that’s not true.” 

“you already spilled on the blanket. second, this is a very violent way to eat cake. you literally mess up all the layers by doing that and destroy the piping on the cake which i can admit, i am a fan of. and third, i’m going to paint us as worms, which seems enjoyable to me.” 

you curl your nose. 

“worms?” 

“yeah. what were you going to paint?” 

“i don’t know. but it certainly wasn’t going to be worms. like the park or flowers or something.” 

“boring. i’m going to paint us as slimy worms. and because we made it on this date, you’ll have to agree to put it up in the apartment, even if it’s ugly.” 

“sukuna.” you whine. 

“especially if it’s ugly. it’s a testament to our love.” he responds, dramatically placing his hands on  his chest. 

“you know, you’re so right. worms have been a really defining feature of your relationship.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a quick kiss to your lips and an additional one on your cheek. 

“you just get me, princess!” 

and he breaks the little joke by lifting one of your hands to his lips, and pressing a kiss on all four of your knuckles before pressing your hand to his cheek. 

“and i have to do special things for a special person.” 

you return the gesture, lifting his tattooed fingers to your lips and doing the same. 

“you know…you’re really good at this type of thing.” you murmur. 

“what do you mean?” 

“i mean, being a boyfriend. and…and being supportive about everything. sometimes i feel like i’m trying really hard to be the best but…just comes naturally to you.” you respond. 

sukuna shrugs. 

“don’t know if i’m perfect but…loving you has always come really easy to me. i don’t really have to think twice about it because these are actually just things i want to do for you.” 

you groan. 

“see! that’s what i’m saying! you always just…say sweet things, do sweet things. sometimes i’m convinced i’m not even half deserving of it, just because sometimes i don’t reciprocate that back.” you respond. 

sukuna leans forward. 

“you know, you actually do though.” 

“as if.” you groan. 

sukuna pauses, before leaning his cheek against the tops of his knees and looking out at the expanse of grass in front of you. you follow his line of vision – to the dog running in the distance, the wide, billowing trees, and the little flower truck on the side – which you now realize is where sukuna copped the flowers from earlier. 

“i mean, this type of thing. that we have, or…or the way i act around you. it means a lot to you because, you…you’ve never had this before. right?” 

“yeah.” 

“well, i haven’t had you before. i know you see me as perfect, but…but when you say that i can tell that you don’t mean it the way my mom or…or yuuji think that i’m perfect. in the untouchable way.” 

you lean forward, cupping the side of his face. 

“sukuna. you’re so touchable.” you joke. 

“you’re disgusting.” 

“you love it.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“yeah, i really do. it does actually mean the world to me that you think i’m perfect how i am and don’t think i’m larger than life.” 

“if anything, your ego could be smaller.” 

sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“and…and even the other day. i know you were acting squirrely and weird when yuuji was near us and heard us bickering, but i was half convinced that you were going to take his side at the end, when he started saying that stuff about me. because it is true and i have acted a certain way in the past…and, you would have every right to agree with him if you wanted to.” 

you frown. 

“no, i wouldn’t. you’ve never treated me like that and i know you’re being earnest when you say these things to me. this would be a very elaborate way to get into my pants if that was what you were trying to do. and i know it’s not.” 

sukuna smiles. 

“that’s what i’m saying. every other person for me has never given me that benefit of the doubt, but you always do. you were the person who thought to tell me that my grandpa died when you all came to get me and you were the one who wasn’t mad at me. the things you do for me are the same, in equal magnitude, as what i do for you. if this makes you feel good, or…or on top of the world, you have to know that’s how you make me feel too. i’m half convinced that you’re basically made for me at this point the way you get everything right on point.” 

you lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his lips. 

“i really think you’re made for me too, ryomen.” 

sukuna groans, dramatically leaning his head back, before nearly pushing you over and peppering kisses to almost every surface on your face. 

“quit fucking saying my name. you have no idea what that does to me.” 

“i mean, i think i have an idea.” 

sukuna clamps his fingers over your mouth, before pressing a few more lingering kisses to your face and pushing off. and subsequently, picks all of the grass out of your hair as you roll your eyes. 

and after that sukuna, admittedly, very aggressively uses the wine glasses to portion off little slices of the cake and makes it a point to finish off yours when you can’t stomach the sweetness. and true to his promise – sukuna paints the two of you as worms, but at the park, stargazing. 

it’s a little silly, the way he paints it. you were expecting it to be more gory or gross, but it’s so corny that it makes you smile. because he draws the two little worms, but distinguishes between the two of you, by swiping some of your pink paint and adding a little ribbon to the one that’s supposed to be you. 

sukuna explains the stars. because before sukuna had dragged you out of that shitty bathroom bar, it’s what megumi and yuuji said in his drunken mess – he had pointed at two little stars and likened them to him and megumi.

and you’re almost positive that at the time, sukuna found it utterly ridiculous. but now, he understood it – the sentiment. that you and sukuna were two little worms, and two stars, and two little flowers too. 

and to his promise, the two of you decide to place the little canvases you drew at the end of the kitchen counter. 

it’s only then that you realize that you have to go the whole ten miles for sukuna the way he had done for you – countless times again. and that if you were going in blind in trying to make something special, you’d have to take a page out of his book and do some research. 

and there was only one person who could really help you, who you’d rather die than humble yourself to than ask for help. 

regardless of that, you still call sammy the next morning.

--

next part linked here

an: they're about to do it. anyways....there is a very real playlist to match the one that they talk about in the fic -- and it matches the way it described in the fic! so it's interleaved, the first song is a song that sukuna would have added, the second one that y/n added, the third sukuna, so on and so forth. it's linked here! happy listening babies

second an: thank you for the love on the last chapter. it makes my heart really warm bc all of that was actually based on a REAL MAN and real things that I have felt/have said to me and just having people comment that they felt seen by it or it made them feel a certain type of way actually made me really happy and so warm. this blog was one of the first things I did after I stopped being really, really sad and i'm glad that i'm able to share a little joy here and there, if that's what this fic is for you. anyways this is long and sappy and gross and actually I just love you all for enduring the ouchies and the sillies with me a little bit 💌

third an: double upload bc yall were so patient with me :D

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @wishmemel @gyros-cum-sock @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani79 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 18

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: It's Friday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Another day brings you just short of the mountain peak. The pace of the train is ragged as they come to a halt and murmurs crawl up and down the lines. You slump against the frigid wind, nestling your chin into the fur of your cloak as you keep your eyes on Daisy’s neck. You yawn as Bryce reaches over to fix the reins as they almost slip from your grasp. 

“You well, mouse?” He growls. 

You nod. You haven’t spoken much in the last days, not since your first night on the mountain pass. You haven’t known what to say. You know he must have seen the king and yourself, how close you were, and you feel his judgment. You just don’t know how to say it isn’t your want. It would be improper to blame the king. 

“We’re almost there. Castle’s just ahead.” He looks up at the dark shapes soaring through the skies. He pointed out the vultures a while back, inferring there must be carrion near to bring them out. “You’ll have a warm place to lay your head.” 

You hum and offer nothing else. As you think of staying still, your stomach storms as violently as the skies. At least when you have a destination, when you are moving, you can make yourself elusive. Once you’re still, you don’t quite know what you’ll do. 

“Daisy will be relieved to rest, the old beast,” he chuckles, “she’s had quite the campaign.” 

You pet the horse’s mane, your hands mittened in strips of wool the grey soldier wrapped around them. 

“I know what the matter is but if you’re not gonna say it, I won’t neither,” he grumbles. 

You dip your head, hiding under the hood. You come to a halt behind the rest of the party as it stalls completely. You lean and peer over the edge of the horse. 

“Aye, you just wait,” he swings off his horse and lands easily on his feet. The snow dusts up around his tall boots. He comes to help you off the horse, your legs as snugly bound in wool. “We’ll find ya some proper clothes for the road at the castle. You’ll need all your toes.” 

You sigh and cross your arms. You look ahead then behind you. You cough and turn to touch Daisy’s soft neck. 

“I didn’t...” you begin. “I wouldn’t betray the queen. Or the king.” 

He huffs and moves closer, blocking the wind as Daisy nuzzles his shoulder, “I know ya wouldn’t, mouse. Is that why yer so meek? You think I judge you?” 

“What happened--” you voice piques and you nearly choke on it, “sir,” you throw your hands up, “I swear, I didn’t ask for it. The king...” 

“Kings do as they will. It is in their nature, it is their right,” he shrugs, “I am not a naive lad no more. You mightn’t have noticed how my beard matches the sheen of my sword, but I’ve seen many things. The old king... he had a few loves. None of them his wife.” 

“Love? Sir. It was a mistake, surely.” 

He is quiet as he shifts his soles. He turns one way then the other, “do you really believe that?” 

Your heart swells so big your ribs hurt. You cross your arms, hooking your hands over your shoulders. You chew your lip and look up at the tall grey man. 

“I don’t know what to believe. I thought I came to serve the queen. I thought... I don’t know, sir. I don’t. I wouldn’t ever hurt anyone. I wouldn’t want to.” 

“I know it,” he affirms, “you are the gentlest soul I’ve met. Well, since my own wife. Certainly, the king is taken with a summer soul like yours. How could he not be?” 

“Taken?” You utter in horror. “I am a maid. That’s all I am. It’s all I ever needed to be.” You sniffle and bring your hands to the edges of your hood, pushing it back to see him clearer, “sir, it keeps me safe.” 

“It did. It kept you safe when it could but that shield has broken.” 

“And what about you?” You murmur. 

He averts his gaze guiltily, “what the king does behind his own walls, I cannot stop. That night, he was unsafe. He threw caution away. For your sake, I deterred him. Reminded him of his duty.” He shakes his head and frowns at his boots, “you came to serve the king, you said, and that is what he intends.” 

You whimper. How can it be? He is wed. He has beautiful wife. And a throne. And an heir on the way. You’re just the maid. Just a maid. Not... that. 

“So, you would let him?” You challenge, a surge welling up your throat, a heat unlike anything you’ve felt before. 

“I serve the king too,” he mutters. “Though I do care for you, little mouse, how could I not? But I was commanded to see to you. To keep you unbothered. Unsullied.” 

Your legs wobble beneath you and you nearly fold over. You can’t stop the rush of emotion that overcomes you, the fire that burns in your veins and makes your vision bleary. You throw out your arms and shove Bryce. Once, twice, three times. He doesn’t budge, taking each in turn. 

“How dare you, sir! How dare you!” You hit his chest with your fists and collapse into him. “I never wanted it. I don’t. I don’t. I don’t.” 

“I know, sweet mouse, I know,” he curls an arm around you and sways, petting your hood, “you’ve every right to despise me. I will take whatever you have for me.” 

You heave and tamp down a throttling sob, “why, sir, why?” 

“It is... my duty.” 

You hear the strain in his voice, you feel the tremor that rolls through him, and how he clings tightly as if he fears you’ll push him away. You can’t. Even if he's hurt you, he is all you have. 

“I won’t beg forgiveness, I don’t deserve that,” he whispers, “but I’ll always be here for you, mouse, so long as you need.” 

You stay again him, silent and weak. You’re angry. You’ve never felt this sort of way. You’ve never felt as if you could tear your flesh from the bone just to let the tension out. You hate it. You’ve never hated anything but that feeling, you loathe it. It hurts worse than anything you’ve ever known. 

“I’m so sorry, mouse,” he continues to rock you, “so very sorry...” 

⚔️

You cannot blame your daze for nearly missing the castle right before you. The dark exterior blends into the rock face, set into the side of the mountain so that an untrained eye might not pick it out. The part splits into several streams, those for the stables, some soldiers to keep watch over the pass, and many more waiting to enter the great castle of Vulture’s Peak. 

As if to proclaim their name right, at least a dozen of the long-necked scavengers perch upon the towers. Bryce keeps you close as you keep astride. You peer toward the front of the crowd. The king’s white hair defines him among the bodies. He speaks with several black-garbed soldiers as Jazlene is helped down from the cart. Neither husband or wife acknowledge each other. 

You sit back and hang your head. Bryce breathes in through his nose and clucks, “right. Let’s get you to the queen.” 

You glance over, numb from more than the cold. He dismounts and brings you down to ground level. He fixes your cloak as it opens and lets in the stirring bluster. He finds a post to tie the horses to before he herds you towards the castle. 

You approach with your head down. The queen stands with a hand on her lower back though her bodice remains snug and flat to her unchanged stomach. The fur cloak drapes from her shoulders majestically as she stands with her head high. You stare at the hem of her skirt and await your orders. 

“Let us see to our host,” the king declares as he offers his arm to his queen, a stiff and despondent gesture.  

You keep your eyes down. You would rather wait without. You sense him pausing, looking around, and he turns to face the facade. He huffs. “Right, Sir Bryce, until I give the signal, you will keep all without.” 

“Your highness,” Bryce agrees and moves closer to you. 

King Geralt stalks through the snow with his wife in tow. Her words drift back behind her, “... so bleak. Is this how they receive a king and queen?” 

The king grunts but gives no answer as he pulls her onward, climbing the steps one by one as she slows him with her odd lean back. You turn to Bryce and tuck your chin down. Neither of you have said much since the pass. 

You wait, blowing into your hands and mulling back and forth. A restlessness stirs through the bodies around you, an uncertainty as you await the king’s confirmation. The lull carries on until the sun shifts into a new phase, or rather, the sky changes hue. 

The doors of the castle creak open and a slender woman descends the stairs. Her skin is smooth like polished brass and a similar hue, her hair is a shade of straw and her eyes are an eerie shade of jade. She wears a plain cloak on her shoulders and a square cap on the crown of her head. 

“Lord Vesemir welcomes the king’s company,” she speaks boldly above the din of curious murmurs. “Please come.” 

She beckons with her gloved hand and turns back to the castle. She walks forward without waiting. Bryce tuts, “typical.” He spins and waves, “you heard her, let’s go. Servants to the east, soldiers find your stations, lords and ladies, the west wing.” 

He spins and grabs your arm, ushering you ahead of the scrambling masses. You let him lead you on, though you might have preferred to stay in the gales.  

Inside, the walls are lit with mounted lanterns. The flames glow along the spacious hall and corridors haze amber to each side of you. Bryce keeps you close as he steps out of the way of the flood of bodies. He stops several other soldiers to direct them on how to accommodate the party. 

“Right,” he peers up the central staircase, with posts like spears, and he points you up it. 

“You know this place?” You keep your voice low as you come to the top. 

“Aye, been here now and again,” he says. “Vesemir isn’t the most hospitable. Not beyond a few, but the king does hold a special bond with the old bear.” 

“Oh,” you peer around at the plain tapestries, no patterns, just cut fabric to warm the walls. There is a single marked banner with symbols you do not recognise. 

“Do not fear. He is harmless. He puts on a mean snarl but he isn’t so mean as he pretends,” Bryce explains. 

You nod and skid to a halt in fright. A large bear stands by the wall, arms raised in attack, it’s great teeth bear in a growl. You squeak and knock into the soldier beside you. It’s white fur reminds you of the king’s tresses. 

“Oh, mouse, it’s long dead,” he pats your shoulder and laughs, “Vesemir claims to have killed the beast with his own hands. He doesn’t mention that no sound or wise man would be so far north as to meet a white bear such as this.” 

You gulp and gape at the large beast. 

“Stuffed. It’s hide preserved,” he points as he gets closer to it, unafraid, “when I first came, I had my sword drawn at the sight. It’s a cruel trick by the castle lord.” 

He touches the bear’s large claw and gestures you forward. You move forward and he takes your hand, putting it to the beast’s large paw. You feel the dried pads and shudder. He lets you go but you do not rescind your reach. You feel the fur of the creature, softer than you imagined. 

“Suppose we should get you where you need to be,” he exhales, taking out his sweet leaves to put some in his mouth. 

You pull back and face him. You wait for his guidance and he presses on. He pauses to ask a servant where the queen’s chamber lays. With his answer, you continue on. 

The two guards stand outside the doors. You recognise the one that is often there, with the coppery hair and sparse beards. The other is not familiar to you, though you’ve seen many faces on the road. Bryce nods to them and they let you through. 

“Don’t trouble her maid, she is in sensitive condition,” the orange-haired guard warns. 

“Eh,” Bryce growls, “mind yer business, she’ll mind hers.” 

“Don’t get your hackles up, old man,” the guard scoffs and you stop to look back. 

“In,” Bryce demands and points you through the door. 

You enter and the door closes out the voices, muffled by the barrier as their argument continues. The confrontation is most unexpected. You don’t recall either of the queen’s men ever speaking to you before. Most times, they barely took notice. You’re only happy Bryce was there to bark back at him. 

The queen is at the foot of her bed. She looks unhappy. You glance around the chamber, for a moment expecting the king to be lurking there with her. She is alone, holding her stomach as she breathes slowly. 

“Would you stop staring like a dolt and fetch a pail?” She garbles behind her hand. 

You grab the clean chamber pot from the corner and bring it to her. She seizes it and spits into it, though she hardly spits up more than saliva. She grumbles and shoves it back at you. 

“This place smells like cinder and dust,” she complains as you return the pot to its place. “And the snow is repugnant. To think, I am to be queen of ice. How dull. We should make our thrones in the summer lands.” 

Her gripes ease you. Those are expected, almost a comfort. 

“Hardly matters where I go, does it? The king never comes anyhow,” she whines and lays back across the mattress, “I carry his child and he doesn’t seem to care. Do you know what he said when I told him?” 

You don’t reply. She doesn’t want to hear more than her own voice. 

“He says, ‘see your duty done before you boast,’” she kicks her legs as they hang over the edge, “see it done? I have his seed in me and he is still distant. Will he see his child in my arms then command me see it to adulthood before my duty’s rewarded?” 

You stare at the wall. Her account of the king’s neglect sickens you, so much that you could spit up in the same pot as her. Is it you? Are you the reason he does not tend to her? Perhaps you do deserve her wrath more than you know. You wish in that moment that she would let it out upon you. You have earned any lashing she may give you. 

Though you may not have chosen your path, not as maid, not as traveler, not as the king’s desire, it does not matter. You will pay for the whims of your masters. As Merinda predicted, though not as she might have dreamt it, they have drawn you into great danger. 

[aglaias-blog]

"Wicked Game"

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Author's note: in honour of my 9 year anniversary on this hellsite and us finally getting fed with some new hotd content, here is my contribution to whatever the craziness of the last two days was.

I saw this post by the amazing, the great @ewanmitchellcrumbs and thought that I had to post this, it was in my drafts far too long haha Feedback is welcome and appreciated 💖

TW: dub!con, MDNI, afab!reader, fem!reader, degradation kink, jealousy, hatefucking, possessiveness, Aemond is a meanie, reader is a brat

Summary: You make Aemond jealous on purpose as a punishment for him always having his eye on you. But his reaction is clearly more than you have bargained for.

Taglist: @watercolorskyy

Never before had you seen your husband this angry. Sure, he had had his moments – when you had barged into the Small Council to give the King a piece of your mind or when you had humiliated him in front of his brother – and countless other instances. But never infuriated like this.

It had been a perfectly good day in the Red Keep. You were just walking past the Armory when you had seen Ser Davios Rane. He had become a good friend of yours over the years, since you had been married to Prince Aemond. It was a simple conversation; friendly, but reserved, as usual.

The courtyard was buzzing with people in preparation for King Aegon’s name day festivities: servants running around, carrying baskets, tapestries, tableware and many other things from one place to another, the invited Lords and Ladies just arriving taking a look at the Red Keep, engaging in conversation.

Yet somehow your husband had managed to see only you - and just the part of the conversation where you had laughed at Ser Rane’s comment - and put your hand on his arm. A grave mistake, you had realised immediately.

Aemond had been by your side in an instant, cutting the conversation embarrassingly short. You hadn’t even seen him coming, it was the frightened expression on Ser Rane’s face that had betrayed the arrival of your husband.

He had scolded you in front of everybody present – quietly, of course, but it was obvious that they knew what was happening by his body language alone. Servants had stopped in their tracks to observe the humiliating spectacle, the nobility’s conversations had quietened down to hear his heated whispers. And you – well, you had only ripped your arm from the tight grip he had your wrist in, and ran away. As childish as it was, you couldn’t stand being gawked at while your husband chastised you like a little child. Of course, he had followed you, but not before throwing a threatening glare in Ser Rane’s direction. He would take care of him later.

You hadn’t meant to make him jealous – at first. It was only when you had felt his sharp gaze on you everytime you spoke with somebody – be it a servant, a Lady, a Lord, a goldcloak – that you wanted to give him something to look at. A sort of punishment for always stalking you, for never trusting you enough to follow his rules. Surely, it couldn’t hurt to teach him a little lesson?

Well, now he was chasing you through the corridors of the Keep, taking his jealousy out on you.

„Are you content now? Was it your plot to infuriate me like this?“

Your husband had talked himself into a rage since you both had left the middle bailey, following you to your shared quarters. His face was marred by unadulterated wrath, his predatory gaze focused only on you.

„You are a Princess of this house! You’re much too sharp to think that it would be seemly to throw yourself at some goldcloak in this shameful manner!“

You had only wished to make him a little jealous – you should have known better. There was no moderation with Aemond Targaryen, only extremes. And once he whipped himself into this obsessive state, he was insufferable to be around. No word of explanation would get through to him.

„Did you think that I wouldn’t see? Attracting the attention of a mere goldcloak, in broad daylight, too, like a common whore!“

You couldn’t stand the thought of being in his presence any longer. He would drive you insane, you were sure of it! So, once in your quarters, you ran to open the door to your bedchamber and darted inside.

The sound of the lock turning sounded absurdly loud in the sudden silence.

„Open the door.“

His voice sounded treacherously calm.

You had leant against the table opposite the door, your trembling fingers gripping it tightly, your chest heaving with quick breaths of anticipation. What could he do now?

Tipping your head back, the tense giddiness in your body broke out of you in gleeful laughter.

„Open the door. Now!“

Oh, how you loved having him at your mercy.

„Say ‚Please, my love, be so kind as to open the door‘!“, you yelled, giggling.

„No“, was the only response that passed through the door.

„Fuck you, then!“

Your anger had returned with a sudden force. Who did he think he was? He had humiliated you in front of everybody, the whole court had borne witness to your embarrassment! How did he have the gall to talk to you as if to a little child? He could rot in the seventh Hell for all you cared!

He hadn’t responded yet. The sudden silence was highly suspicious. Did he give up - had he actually left? Oh, he was no fun!

Your victorious smile was wiped from your face the moment you heard the crash. Through splintered wood flying into all directions, your husband appeared on the threshold – breathing heavily, bearing his teeth, his gaze wild - the embodiment of fury.

After three quick strides he lunged himself at you – his hand painfully gripping your jaw, towering over you.

„You forget yourself, wife“, he snarled through gritted teeth, the vein in his forehead throbbing.

„You should have the good sense to remember your place.“

You simply stared up him calmly, defiantly, searching for the darkness in his eye that let you know that he was almost there, almost – before spitting in his face.

Before you had time to think, your head was whipped to the side, the heat of your blood throbbing in the place where his hand had just been. The slap had come out of nowhere - the sharp sting of pain in your cheek forced tears into your eyes – and yet you couldn’t help the wicked smile that formed on your lips. You had him exactly where you wanted him now, and he had fallen right into your trap.

This was the twisted game you played. You both knew it. Yet it didn’t feel like you were pretending. The rage was real. And so was the intoxicating thrill.

„Oh, this is all a game to you, isn’t it?“, he sneered, nostrils flaring. Let’s see if this is still a game to you now.

„Bend over.“

„No.“

„I’m not going to repeat myself.“

„Make me, then“, you said brattily, challenging him to make good on his word.

And he did. In the blink of an eye, he had his hand in your hair, turning you on your stomach and slamming your face into the table.

You felt your heartbeat in your whole body for the few seconds it took him to bunch up your skirt and loosen the ties on his breeches – you couldn’t move, his hand on your neck forced you to stay still, his leg between your thighs made sure that you kept them apart.

And before you knew what was happening, he sank into your wetness, immediately setting an unforgiving pace. He allowed you no time to adjust, completely merciless. You cried out, struggling against his hand that held you down, hands blindly reaching behind you, clawing at whatever part of his body you could reach. It was no use though – he wouldn’t slow down.

You could only hear him groan depravedly in response - he liked the way you tried to fight him, it dawned on you. The more you tried to resist him, the faster he slammed into you. Fed up with your antics, he grabbed both of your hands in his, bent forward and slammed them above your head. The new angle made your knees buckle.

„Don’t go weak on me now, wife“, he laughed into your ear. He laughed!

„Smug cunt“, you moaned. Immediately, you received your punishment. The sting on your ass hurt less than his hand in your hair, yanking you up against him, forcing you to arch your back almost painfully.

„Think you’re too good for me? Hm?“ His laboured breathing was hot on your neck. „But good enough for Davios Rane?“ He spat the name like a curse.

You could only whine in response, not being able to stop the desperate moans.

„Should we open the window, let him hear you? Hmm?“

He slammed into with such force then that it made you squeal. You couldn’t get a word out. With your eyes rolled back you couldn’t even formulate a simple thought.

„No? Then shut - your fucking - mouth“, he growled, emphasising each word with a thrust.

You couldn’t. You tried, you truly did, yet you failed miserably. Your body reacted before you had time to think, the loud pleasured whimpers and moans fell from your mouth before you could try to control them. He forced them out of you with each of his rough movements, knowing well that you had lost control over your own body.

He placed his other hand on your mouth to muffle your whines for you. The sharp edge of the table digging into your hips over and over again combined with his painfully pleasurable thrusts forced humiliating tears into your eyes. He could feel them flow over his hand down to your chin.

„Oh, are you sorry now?“

„Mmph!“, was the only muffled sound that passed through his hand on your mouth, as you shook your head ‚no‘.

„Say it“, he growled. „You know damn well that you need this, you’d do well to say it. Now!“ He lifted his hand from your mouth, giving you a chance to do as he told you.

„Detestable bastard!“, you only spat out through sobs, your hair still twisted painfully in his hand.

„What was that?“, he said harshly, stilling his movement completely, threatening to pull out.

„You’re sick, Aemond!“ Who cared if he left you now? You certainly didn’t! At least you would be left with your pride intact.

Yet, when he pulled out of you, the vast emptiness you felt made your heart ache. You regretted every single word you had said up until that point.

„N-no, I’ll say it!“, you sobbed, hating that he had this power over you. Hating that he could make you hate yourself, taking your dignity like this. Making you weak.

Patiently he waited for the words he had demanded. „Go on, humiliate yourself. Like you humiliated me“, he growled in your ear. Abruptly, he pulled your head farther back to get a better look at you. His fevered gaze was on you, as he watched your tear-stained face intently, curious as to what choice you would make.

He not only wanted you to swallow your pride; he wanted you to crush it, destroy it completely in a display of sacrilegious devotion to him.

Tears of shame were running down your face freely now. You didn’t want to do as he told you, hadn’t he degraded you enough already? This was more than you had bargained for – you hadn’t expected him to react this way when you had started your little game earlier in the day.

Now you had to pay the price for having dared to challenge him.

The feeling of his cock between your thighs made sheer desperation curse through your veins. You wanted him so badly, it was driving you mad! It would’ve been so easy to just- just wriggle down a bit to-

„Don’t!“, he hissed, biting down on your shoulder. Hard.

It broke you.

„I’m sorry!“, you cried. Through your sobs your words were almost unintelligible. „I’m sorry, I didn’t – I-I don’t care about him, I just – I need you, only you, please, Aemond-“

It truly was a pitiful sight – and disturbingly arousing. His wife with her dress sliding down to her waist, begging for him, her tears streaming down to her bare chest, degrading herself– all this only to have his cock inside her again. With a sick satisfied smirk, he watched you babbling on, only gibberish leaving your mouth now. He had driven you to your breaking point.

And now, you needed to learn your lesson. He let go of your hair suddenly, letting you fall back on the table weakly.

Your jaw went slack, eyes rolling back, when you felt him slide back into you with one smooth movement, settling back into his merciless pace, two hands holding your hips in a bruising grip - pounding you as if he hated you. You rested your head on the tear-soaked surface of the table, moving with every delicious thrust he gave you. With your eyes closed, you gave yourself completely to the sensation, to him.

He was everywhere, all around you, in your nose, your hair, your body, your mind, your soul.

„Fuck“, you heard him curse with a trembling breath. He had bunched up the fabric of your dress over your hips, watching his cock disappear inside you over and over again. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight – the way your glistening cunt swallowed him whole, coating his cock in your wetness was simply too much. The perverse sound of your slickness alone would drive him mad, he was sure of it.

He had to remind you that you were his, that he possessed you completely. He couldn't allow you to forget it - he had to ensure that the only thing he held dear in his life would never dare leave him. It was this wicked desire that drove him to insanity everytime he saw you with somebody else, somebody who wasn’t him.

„I own you“, he moaned, his hand had found its place in your hair again – twisting it threateningly when you didn’t respond. He didn’t allow you enough time to catch your breath, you had to concentrate to form any sensible words.

„I’m yours“, you responded hoarsely, without resistance this time. „Only yours, Aemond, yours, yours, yours…“ Like a prayer you mumbled the words – yet it felt like somebody else had put them there.

His eyes rolled back in his skull with a helpless groan at your admission. Those were the only words he ever wanted to hear you say - such a shame that he had to force them out of you brutally.

He could make you say anything he wanted, but your body was yours, still. You knew him like yourself, you anticipated what he would want, long before he said it out loud – so you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of reaching your peak on his cock simply because he told you to.

He could fuck you stupid, and you would refuse him what he most wanted – an admission of carnal weakness.

But the terror crept up on you slowly, and with your eyes wide with fear it dawned on you - this little rest of resistance had already been crushed. Your body had cruelly betrayed your mind.

The savage groan Aemond gave when he felt you clench around him wiped all thoughts from your mind. He didn’t withhold his moans, showing you so openly the pleasure your body gave him – it made you squeeze down on him again. It was raw, primal – beyond your control.

In an effort to stifle his groans he bent forward, sinking his teeth into your shoulder again, making sure to leave a mark.

„Your body knows it belongs to me“, he cooed. „No matter how convincingly you try to deny it.“

The hand that had been in your hair now moved around your hip, finding its way between your trembling thighs.

„N- no!“, you gasped, trying to squirm out of his grasp. „Aemond, please!“

Your humiliation would be complete should you give in to him now. You could pretend that he didn’t own your mind, but you couldn’t pretend with your body – it knew that it was his. It was honest. Always. And he knew it.

„Oh, you don’t want to reach your peak?“, he chuckled darkly.

„There’s no use in lying, wife. I can feel you clenching around me.“

He groaned again when your body proved him right.

„Your treacherous body belies your words.“

He knew that he had to draw your peak from you tenderly, he couldn’t brutally force it, like he forced those beautiful sounds from your throat.

The sudden sensation of his soft fingers overwhelmed you entirely – it was so in contrast to his harsh words and his merciless thrusts inside you. Your whole body was fragile now, having been so abandoned by loving touch that you jolted in his grip the moment his fingers gently made contact with the most delicate part of your body.

His other hand went to your shoulders, immediately pushing you down when he noticed you trying to get up again. You couldn’t let him do this, you couldn’t, you had to-

„Don’t - refuse me!“, he gritted out through clenched teeth. With his brow furrowed, he had to focus on his fingers on your cunt - he would come undone this very moment should he allow himself to take in the glorious sight in front of him, feel your writhing body underneath his hands, pushing him away and pulling him in at the same time.

„Please!“, you choked out. You didn’t know what you were begging for. For him to stop? For him to continue?

You had been prepared to withstand his roughness, thinking that he would use you for his own pleasure and then cast you aside. You had been starving for his kisses, adoring words and gentle caresses on your body – you had been so hungry for any sign of love that his unexpected soft touch on you now would make you fall apart.

The feeling of lightness cursed through you, as your mind went numb. Your body, however, felt his every move – outside of you, inside of you, around you, all at once.

The lighter you felt, the hotter the pleasure coiling in your stomach became - you tried to fight it until the end, defying the urge to give in to the warmth that spread from your innermost core – and then it effortlessly crashed over you in waves, pulling you under, drowning your resistance completely.

As if under water, you heard him come undone behind you, spilling himself inside you with choked moans and curses, gripping your hips so tightly, so painfully tight…

And then - floating. You were floating. He had pushed you too far. You didn’t feel anything anymore - you had slipped into a place where time had no meaning.

You felt weightless and then crushed down to earth again - heaviness and lightness played their ever-changing game with you.

You tried your best to find a way out of the fog in your mind, but you were just so tired, so utterly spent…You didn’t want to think, to fight, to do anything – surrendering to the divine nothingness seemed so inviting now, you wanted to stay in its warmth, to just float forever…

[luvsupas]

read part one here!

tags; heianera!sukuna, trueform!sukuna, sukuna x fem!reader, kissing… lots os kissing, smut-ish (?),readers called little one, ermm lmk if I forgot sum …

+ likes and reblogs are very appreciative!

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

sukuna's voice continues to linger in your mind, his gaze making you feel as if he's watching your every move. what did he see in me? why was I spared?

the walk towards your new estate is a journey through confusion and fear. trailing behind uraume and the guards, you glance around the dimly lit corridor, trying to make contact with the other servants and concubines who are already giving you dirty looks and whispering.

when you finally arrive at your quarters, uraume unlocks the door and motions you to enter. “uraume," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "why did sukuna spare my life?"

uraume's gaze sharpens, a flash of disappointment in their eyes. “you are to address him with the correct honorific," your heart sinks. how am I already managing to piss them off! "I assume sukuna-sama was intrigued." your mind races with questions, but before you can ask any, uraume and the guards depart, leaving you with no further explanation.

pacing back and forth alone in the dimly lit room, your mind is filled with millions of thoughts, but this time, it's about him.

finally, you've had enough of your mind racing, and you make your way toward the wooden door. carefully opening it, loud creaks echo through the hallway. peeking your head through, you see the corridor is empty, the only sound there is the crackling torches lining the hallway.

as you walk down the hallway, you feel his presence, his eyes boring into the back of your head, causing you to stop in your tracks. taking a deep breath, you prepare yourself to look into sukuna's eyes, but when you turn around, you see nothing but a dark corridor.

eventually, you come to see sukuna’s chamber doors, wide open, almost as if he’s baiting you to enter his domain. building up the courage, you step inside, your footsteps barely heard against the stone floor. familiar torches line the steps to his throne. this time, he’s sitting there- eyes closed…? he sleeps here? I expected him to have a larger chamber. just as you think you might be safe to turn back and leave, his voice slices through the stillness,

“did you truly think I wouldn’t notice you, little one?"

your heart sinks, and you slowly turn around to see the king of curses' scarlet eyes gazing down upon you. "I didn’t come here to be unnoticed," you retort, mustering the courage to show him you do not fear him. “why did you spare me?"

sukuna looks at you with amusement. the audacity you have to talk back to him is thrilling. “come here," he purrs.

you obey, walking up the steps while maintaining eye contact, feeling the tension thicken. the air feels electric, charged with an unspoken challenge. suddenly, his two lower arms grab your waist and place you on his thick thighs, closing the distance between you. “you want to know why I spared you?" he hums, tilting his head to look at you more closely. you eagerly nod.

his lips curl into a smile at your eagerness, as his upper arm rises and brushes against your cheek in a gentle yet possessive manner. “your lack of caution fascinates me," he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin, "it awakens my curiosity."

his hand moves down, tracing the outline of your jaw, as his eyes follow his movement with a dark, hungry intensity. “you fear me," he continues, his fingers now at your throat, your breath hitching at the sensation. “and yet, there is something else, isn’t there? that draws you to me." his words send a rush of heat through you, and you find yourself leaning into his touch, your body betraying your mind. he chuckles softly, his lips dangerously close to yours.

in that moment, the tension between you snaps. his lips crash onto yours, claiming you with a fierce, demanding kiss. his lower hands snake around your waist, grinding up against you, making you moan loudly at the friction that ignites a new level of pleasure.

sukuna growls in response, continuously rutting against you, causing you to whimper by the intense feeling. his kiss becomes even more demanding, drawing another moan from your lips as you feel him harden underneath you. when he finally pulls away, you are left breathing heavily, his scarlet eyes blazing with a passion that makes your knees weak.

“remember this," he says huskily, "you belong to me, body and soul."

with that, he dismisses you, leaving you with your mind filled with thoughts of him. the taste of him lingers on your lips, a reminder of the power he holds over you. as you turn to leave, you can feel his gaze burning into your back, a silent promise that this is far from over.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦

a/n: THNK U EVERYONE FOR THA SUPPORT 🫶🏽🫶🏽

[tinycurlyfry]

Thinking about how Buggy and Shanks parallel Zoro and Luffy but if Luffy dropped his ambitions. The agreement between Zoro and Luffy was that Zoro would follow Luffy, be his first mate, be his swordsman, the first member to join his crew and set sail to achieve Luffy’s dream of being Pirate King IF Luffy never got in the way of Zoro’s dream of being the Strongest Swordsman in the world.

Buggy and Shanks were “apprentices” to Roger (and really more or less they were his sons). They were learning from Roger and learning what being a pirate SHOULD BE. So as apprentices, it would go without saying (at least as far as Buggy is concerned) that that means they need to be the ones to carry Roger’s Legacy. That they should be the ones to get their captain’s treasure and carry out what he wanted for the world. We see it in what Buggy is CURRENTLY doing. That he wants to inspire people to achieve their dreams. Crocodile sees piracy as a business, and Mihawk sees his position as a power pirate as a means to live a peaceful, lazy life where no one would dare bother him. But they don’t have the  ROMANTICISM of a dream anymore. And all those years ago Buggy heard Shanks say he was no longer throwing himself into the romanticism of pirating and adventuring anymore. He’d be a pirate sure, but there was no drive, no DREAM behind it anymore. 

And then he asks Buggy to still be a part of his crew. I can only imagine what that request must have felt like to Buggy. For Shanks to tell him “I won’t be the pirate king you saw me as. I’m not seeking any dream. But come be a part of my mediocracy. Just settle for less, Buggy.”

Now of course, Shanks still went and became a HUGE big name pirate. One that achieved Emperor level. But in that moment? In that moment it felt like Shanks was asking Buggy to give up on his dream, settle for being a pirate simply to be a pirate, and betray what they had learned from Roger.

Luffy was never going to get in the way of Zoro’s dream. Zoro’s desire was Luffy’s desire and vice versa, because as they said themselves in the show- the pirate king shouldn’t have anything less than the best swordsman on his crew. But Buggy’s desire was not Shank’s desire. I’d argue it probably still isn’t! I know Shanks is now making his move for the One Piece, but I honestly don’t know that that is his true objective. I think he thinks his place is to BE THERE when the battle for the One Piece happens. He placed a bet on the new generation and he is going to be there to see that bet come to fruition.

And I think part of that conversation between Shanks and Buggy was how they were each grieving. They had both lost a captain, but also a father.

But Buggy has not given up. His own dream was rekindled this most recent chapter (yes partially because he believes Shanks finally wants to be pirate king too), but partially because he finds himself SURROUNDED by people who know longer believe in the child-like wonder of adventure and treasure and the DREAM of becoming PIRATE KING. I think Buggy HAD also given up down the line. I think we saw a Buggy who’d lost his way at the beginning of the series. I do think Buggy doesn’t have the... best morals... But whether it’s intentional or not Buggy is not who we saw at the beginning of the series and he’s rallying so many people under him, and giving them sanctuary, and honestly? Reaching a king’s status to so many people. 

But honestly? If Luffy suddenly went “You know what? I’m happy with what I’ve got here. I don’t need to be pirate king anymore. We don’t need to get the One Piece.” The Straw Hats would be SO LOST. Sure maybe they wouldn’t all get immediately angry or upset as Buggy had and asked “Well, what DO you want then?” But they are a crew made from the collection of DREAMS. And everyone’s dream is their own dreams. Zoro’s ambition became Luffy’s ambition, but that would never had happened if there was even a small chance that Luffy would be satisfied with anything that fell lower than reaching their dreams.

All this to say I’m proud of Buggy and support him as Leader of Cross Guild LMAO I hope he continues to fail upwards.

[lovezella]

The Witch Westeros

CHAPTER ONE - sneaking in a castle

disclaimer:

I do not own House of the Dragon nor the Scarlet Witch and her powers. Credits to Marvel and Stan Lee.

gif not mine, I got it from pinterest.

this fanfic does not follow the plot of the series nor its books. storyline belongs to me.

note:

as promised, here's the chapter two! i am so sorry for leaving this ff discontinued but i lost my motivation in writing and continuing it, so i hope y'all forgive me😭 and ofc, the suggestions for the love interest is still open! that's all, thank you xx

warning:

mentions of wound and blood but that's all (i think) NOT EDITED!!

Rhaenyra Targaryen paced around her chambers with a frown on her face. She was angry, sad, and betrayed. Her son, Lucerys, has been missing for three days and no one knows where he is or if he is alive. His dragon, Arrax, arrived wounded at the castle without his rider this morning and Rhaenyra’s paranoia grew. Her eldest son Jacaerys wouldn’t rest and flew with his dragon all day to look for his brother. Rhaenyra had soldiers roaming around King’s Landing and where he was last discovered, in hopes that they would find him.

Her son Joffrey’s name day is to be celebrated tomorrow but she couldn’t find it in her to celebrate while her second born son was out there missing. Alicent had suggested to have a gathering in honour of Joffrey’s name day, despite the young prince’s protest of not wanting to celebrate without his elder brother. Her father, Viserys, couldn’t have a say about it since he’s currently bedridden because of some sickness— that her uncle Daemon seems so sure that it was the greens’ doing.

Rhaenyra sat on her bed and sighed. She hoped that her son was alive, if not, she prayed for the one who caused his death that would receive her wrath.

-x-

You were used to not getting enough sleep in the past. Often staying up, staring at the ceiling and thinking of your family and ‘what ifs’ invading your mind. However, tonight was different. You shifted on your side, pulling your blanket up to cover you more as you pondered the events that can occur tomorrow.

When you saw a floating body on the waters yesterday, you never imagined it would be a prince. Maybe a commoner, a soldier harmed from a war, or even a pirate—do they even exist in this world? Hell, you don’t know,— but a prince? If you were to waltz into the castle with the young prince who was declared missing, you might—no, you will get into more trouble.

You let out a groan, rubbing your face tiredly. There goes your plan to lay low until you find a way to go back to your universe. Sighing, you gave up trying to sleep and went down to the kitchen, hoping baking will help you ease your nerves.

Tomorrow is going to be fun.

-x-

Lucerys Valeryon woke up with the sun beaming on his face, the distinct sound of the waves from outside and the fresh smell of bread making him realize where he was. He winced as he sat up from the soft bed he laid, rubbing his torso and arm where a cloth wrapped around his wound. He looked down and softly sighed, seeing the blood seeping on the cloth. Lucerys mustered up the strength to stand up and walked to the kitchen, ignoring the shooting pain on his muscles each step he took.

The sound of footsteps snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked up, seeing the young prince you took in last night staggered in.

“Dear, you should be in bed!” You fussed, meeting him half way and guiding him on a stool. You tsked, grabbing another cloth to rewrap his wounds. “How are you going to heal if you are not resting?”

Lucerys shook his head, “I’m alright, my lady. I don’t think I can handle being in bed for too long.”

“Such a stubborn boy,” You sighed, focusing on your task in hand. Lucerys didn’t reply but stared at the dozen plates of bread and dishes on the table. You finished wrapping his arm and torso with a cloth and saw his gaze at your table.

Your face flushed from embarrassment, “I…I cook and bake when I’m nervous.” you explained, throwing the bloody cloth away, “It helps me get my mind off of things.”

Lucerys smiled lightly, thinking of his brother who does the same thing with training when he wants a distraction. “There’s no need to be ashamed, my lady. My brother does it too. He drowns himself in training to distract him from his duties or well…everything.” You stare at him with a light smile, seeing the warm look on his face as he talks about his brother.

You stood up to fetch him breakfast, grabbing two plates from the table which consisted of scrambled eggs and bacon and a piece of butter toast— all you made from scratch. Since this period is lacking supplies you needed to cook, you decided to just conjure some from your magic. No one would know, and if they do, you can just erase their memories. Easy as a pie. You placed the plates on your living room table since you can’t eat at the kitchen table, and pushed Lucerys’ food to his side. Lucerys stared at the plate in front of him with a confused look on his face.

“My lady, I do not mean to offend you, but…what exactly is this?” He asked, hesitantly picking the fork up.

You chuckled and waved a hand, “Don’t worry, Luke, you didn’t offend me. That is scrambled eggs, bacon and butter toast.” You hoped it was enough for him as you were sure he eats more grand foods growing up.

“That is quite…peculiar.” Lucerys raised an eyebrow, “I have never heard of such a meal.”

You paused as you were about to take a bite. Shit, you forgot people from this era are used to eating just bread, fruits, and wine in the morning. “It’s a traditional meal from my home.” you quickly came up with an excuse, “Meals like this are common when we break our fast.”

Lucerys accepted your answer and took a bite of his food, eyes widening as he chewed. “This is delicious!” he exclaimed once he swallowed. “I should visit your home country if the food is as delicious as this.”

Not knowing how to reply, you just chuckled and nodded. You both ate breakfast in silence, caught up with your own thoughts to make a conversation leading to an awkward silence. You cleared your throat, “I was thinking that we should visit the castle once they finished the celebration. In that case, we would not be causing a ruckus and you can get to your family safely.”

“My lady, if I may,” Lucerys started, “I…I want to attend my brother’s name day.” You purse your lips at his words. You had figured he would say that and already formed a plan to sneak you both in.

“I can make it happen—” You said, and the young boy’s eyes widened in delight, “—But we have to do it discreetly.”

“And how, my lady, are we going to do that? I thought only invited high borns are allowed to attend? Are you a high born, my lady?” Lucerys couldn’t help but ask. Your house doesn’t exactly scream noble or rich to him, but he wouldn’t say it out loud. Although, from your looks, posture and manners, some can mistake you as one.

You chuckled, seeing the curious look on his face. You know he doesn’t mean any offense, he’s young and it’s normal for him to be curious. “No, but I can be very convincing.” You winked, subtly making your eye flash red. Lucerys didn’t seem to notice but trusted your words enough. After all, you did save him.

“We leave tonight, is that alright?” You asked, gesturing to his wounds. Lucerys nodded furiously, excited to see his family.

-x-

The moon shined bright and the streets were alive as ever for the celebration of the prince’s name day. Lucerys and you strode to the castle with hoods up to cover your faces. As you approached, a wheelhouse passed through the open gates before it snapped shut. Knights stood by the side; one was staring at you and Lucerys with a suspicious look.

Lucerys tugged your hand, “Perhaps we should just leave. We won’t be able to cross them.” his eyes nervously looking anywhere but the knights.

“It’s alright.” You squeezed his hand and walked confidently to the knights. “We’re here for the gathering.” you said with a smile.

The knight scoffed and said, “High borns only, lass. Your kind is not allowed here. I’m not letting you in.”

Lucerys glared at his offense but you tugged his hand, silently telling him to stay down.

“Oh, but you will.” You tilted your head, your iris turning red and with simple magic, the knight was under your control. “We are from House Maximoff, will you let us in?”

“Of course, my lady.” The knight said in a monotone voice. He shouted orders and before you knew it, the castle gates were open.

[caffinated-and-sleepy]

Part 1

Thranduil with a human SO

Meeting Thranduil

- Realistically I don’t think Thranduil would ever let himself get close to a new other half that’s human

- Thranduil would never be ready to watch his significant other die again especially that quickly, after all 50 years is a blink of an eye for an elf

- Throwing what is realistic out the window let’s say he does find a human significant other

- Even then you have to be a VERY intriguing human to catch his eye

- Most likely you met him when he and his guard stopped at Lake Town on the way to Erebor

- He was entranced by how you treated him like a normal person

- It was strange, most mortals trembled before his 7ft tall frame

- Not you, you simply welcomed him to the Inn and left to help clean the bar

- Of course Thranduil didn’t intend to sit at the bar at all considering he could easily drink wine that didn’t taste like piss in Mirkwood

- But he convinces himself he’s just being a good King by going down and checking on his soldiers

- Of course his soldiers were doing well, many of them where testing out how many ales they could hold down they found it was 74 pints

- You were now in front of the bar sweeping and humming a low melody under your breath

- He goes to grab your attention and moves besides you, only for you to crash into him

- Thranduil catches you by the hand and for a minute the two of you simply looked like you were dancing

- “Are you alright?”

- You blush with a sweet smile on your face (me writing this: do it, write the line. NOOOO I CAN’T. Don’t be a wuss do it! IT’S SO GENERIC. DO IT. )

- “Looks like I fell for you.” (I’m sorry) Thranduil is beyond taken aback and processes what you said after he fully pulls you up.

- His response is a strange look and “I’m glad your alright.” and he disappears to his room.

- You don’t see him the next morning either since he and his soldier left for Erebor when dawn broke

- Little did you know the King of Mirkwood had trouble sleeping that night

- When they came back through Lake Town Thranduil was exhausted

- Lacking sleep and arguing with pig-headed dwarves can do a lot to an elf

- After checking back into the inn he finds you working again and decided to once more check on his soldiers

- After glancing over all of them he turns his eyes towards you, he then proceeds to listen in on your conversation with the owner’s nephew; Thaine

- “I don’t get why you’re still here? You could be at home by now.” The boy looked to be turning into a man (18ish)

- You shrugged “I like listening to the elves, Síndarian sounds beautiful! It runs off the tongue with such elegance and it brings about a sense of calm.

- The boy replies “That’s great y/n but I don’t think you should be in the commons alone and I need to head home soon. Mother said to be home before midnight.”

- Looking at the boy you sighed and said “Alright, just let me pack up and tell the customers.”

- Before you say anything to the other elves Thranduil butts in after leaving his eavesdropping corner (I sWeAr I wAs DrOpPiNg No EaVeS sIr!)

- “I can watch over both her and my own men if she wishes to stay.” He looks to you with the slight raise of his eyebrows.

- Looking to Thaine you immediately reply “Absolutely fine with me!” With a wide smile right after.

- Shaking his head with a shrug Thain says goodbye and walks out

- Finally alone with the king you opt to break the silence

- “You do not have to stay if you do not wish to. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your bed.” You almost looked guilty as if second guessing taking Thranduil’s offer

- Thranduil was now also surprised at how genuine you seemed, you a mere mortal was just worried he wasn’t getting enough sleep

- His face betrays him as he shows some sense of curiosity and amusement “It is quite alright, I do not usually sleep much until we arrive back at Mirkwood. I find that sleeping on rocks throw out ones back.”

- You couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp and let slip “So the rumor is true? The dwarves sleep on rocks?!”

- At this point he couldn’t tell if the human was dumb or dense, but he instead went with uneducated

- For the rest of the night you asked questions about the race of dwarves and elves

- The soldiers silently questioned why the King took an interest in a human, but they kept quiet

- Thranduil did his best to answer your questions, at one point he even smirked instead of giving you a blank stare

- The next day Thranduil felt a bit disappointed when leaving, you were the most intriguing human he had met in a while.

- Although something Thranduil didn’t say was that the dwarves didn’t actually sleep on rocks he is just a diva who missed his ultra plush bed in Mirkwood

Why is it kinda giving gen z reader? Nah but I swear it’s like a tradition to randomly post a Thranduil Imagine every few months, my Tolkien Curse. Anyways I hope you enjoyed and please comment, repost and like!

[tototalks]

⚔️ KING’S RISING!! ⚔️

I am SO excited to get going, and am also a liiiiiitle bit terrified lol

- Everyone who said I’d love Nikandros was absolutely correct. Damen really found a ride or die with him. He’s the buddy who saw your cringe phase in high school and stuck by your ass anyway. Jord is the dude you adopted into the group at university.

- Speaking of Jord, I feel like Nik and Jord would vibe. Jord really needs a friend 🥺

- “Gain everything and lose everything” Haha! I’m going to tear my face off! This takes on such a different meaning now. 🥲They really went “okay we’ve been happy for a whole two seconds… that’s enough of that.”

- GOVART, YOU BOOMERANG WILLIAM AFTON I ALWAYS COME BACK TYPE BITCH!!! - I knew Laurent wouldn’t betray Damen in the battle!!

- And finally we get to the face off that’s been due for 2 books. Laurent knew about Damen, because of course he did. He’s too smart to not recognise the man who killed his brother. Tbh I think Damen probably mulled over this possibility too.

- “I said don’t do this.” “You said kiss me.” - 💔 💔💔 Damen is not buying Laurent’s bullshit, and I love that Damen actually challenges him on it too. No matter what Laurent says out of insecurity or ulterior motives, Damen is seeing straight through him and I’m living for it…. Even if it hurts 🥲

- Giving up Delpha… Holy shit, Nik is gonna HATE Laurent.

- I have to hand it to Laurent though. He witnessed Damen dressed in what, to Veretians, is leather underwear, and had to pretend he ain’t giving those thighs the side eye.

- I should stop being surprised Laurent is a genius, but his diplomatic gift was stellar. Tentative approval from Akielos and a backhanded jab for Damen. All earned in one move.

- The Twin Cuff!!! 😨

- Imagine you’re an Akielon being summoned as part of a war. You’re standing under your weirdly not-dead King’s dais. He’s wearing the cuff of a pleasure slave for reasons best known to himself but that’s HIS business. Then he says he has a gift for your new coworkers, and you see him put the MATCHING cuff of a pleasure slave on the King of fuckin VERE of all people with the weirdest sexual tension you’ve ever seen in your life. You are expected to be normal about this.

- RIPPED MEN APART WITH LEOPARDS??! My Queen. I bow to thee. Where do I sign up?

- Damen “I sucked dick on accident” and Nikandros “HOW TF YOU SUCK DICK ON ACCIDENT?!” bestie behaviour. Nik knows Damen’s type and is not dealing with any of his horny shenanigans. Only best friends can humble you this way.

- “He improves with time?” “Oh. No. He actually gets worse.” 💀😭

[pippin-katz]

Some Thoughts About Queer Platonic Relationships In Dead Boy Detectives

So, something that a lot of fans have been talking about is whether or not they think/want Edwin and Charles to be dating, or be queer platonic friends.

Side Note: it’s refreshing to see something like this being talked about by fans in a respectful and chill way. I think it’s because there’s no “loser” or “bad” option out of the two.

It’s been on my mind, and I wanted to share an idea I had! I would personally like to see Edwin and Charles become lovers; I’m just a sucker for pairs that are so devoted to each other like they are. But I wouldn’t have a problem with them being queer platonic friends either, especially since there’s less representation of those in visual media.

That’s when I had the thought!

I’ve been blabbering to my parents and friends who have seen the show that I really want them to bring Monty back if we get a second season. It would be so fun for him to turn back into a human and join the gang permanently now that Esther’s gone, but that’s a separate post.

But the concept of having Monty back opened a whole new door in my brain.

Bring Monty back, and make him and Edwin queer platonic friends!

At first I was like, yeah that would be cute, but then my brain did some more turning. I realized that it’s actually a brilliant, perfect idea for them.

Monty was a crow. He’s inexperienced in the human world aside from what he learned to blend in. Edwin is the first human being he genuinely connected with, in any capacity. Edwin is as much his first friend as he is his first love.

Monty was going along with Esther’s plan after he thought Edwin didn’t care, but as soon as Edwin says that he genuinely does and that he is his friend, he crumbles. Monty can’t do it.

Look at me, making my own GIFs with a little watermark and everything :3

He’s willing to directly betray Esther by getting Edwin out of the forest. Even if the Cat King hadn’t shown up, he was screwed. There’s no way she wouldn’t have found out if he had literally helped them escape her plan rather than complete it. It took Monty only a few seconds to decide, and his decision was a death sentence. He knew that, and still tried to get him to safety.

Monty then betrays Esther a second time after she kidnaps Edwin and Charles. He hears Edwin’s screams, sees Charles struggling, and chooses to help. Who knows how long it would’ve taken Charles to get his backpack by himself?

Since Crystal apparently couldn’t just fucking hand it to him, but that’s also a separate post.

All this being said, Monty does care about the squad. When he confronts Esther, he says, "You didn't tell me that mushroom thing was gonna completely eradicate them."

Key word: them. He could've said "him", referring to Edwin since he's the one Monty's in love with, but he says "them", as in both Edwin and Charles. He doesn't want to see that happen to either of them. He also asks Esther about her plans for Crystal after she's gotten the ghosts, showing thoughtfulness rather than ignoring her fate entirely. So, he would make a believable addition to the group outside of his crush on Edwin.

Speaking of his crush on Edwin, Monty knows that Edwin is in love with Charles. He knows that he and Edwin aren't going to happen. He knew that even while he tried to get Edwin to safety, but only brought it up when Edwin accused him of pretending to care. He's freaking out and terrified, but it doesn't feel like he brings up Charles out of malice. He seems genuine about it, almost as if he's trying to help Edwin realize it. Monty knows that he's struggling with his feelings; that's what they talked about on the swing set.

Honestly, I think he only runs away because Edwin lashes out and calls him a crow, like an insult, like just being a crow is unforgivable rather than him being Esther's crow. I don't think Edwin actually cares about him being a crow since he's not literally a crow after being turned human. If Monty had gotten to talk to him again after the forest before he was turned back, I think he would've forgiven him. Plus, he's fine with the Cat King and his ability to shift between the two forms, and with Tragic Mick, who once, was a mighty walrus, king of the deep- sorry, couldn't resist.

That all being said, Edwin is the first human being he's truly connected with. He really likes him and enjoys spending time with him. He also knows his romantic feelings are one-sided, but that doesn't stop him from being his friend (after he gets his hurt feelings out of the way).

I think it would be incredibly sweet if Monty got turned back into a person, and now that he's free of Esther's control, join the group, and be besties with Edwin. This little crow-boy who's new to humanity and freedom, truly getting to learn and experience the world, with the help and guidance of the first person he ever connected with?

Tell me that's not the sweetest thing ever! That would be the my preferred QPR 🥹

(ko-fi)

[rolandtowen]

what's up nerds, new fanfiction for yall!

I went on hiatus for three years and came back with Cherik brain rot. Read it on ao3 or under the cut. Chapter two will be up shortly.

It started innocently enough. A chess game, two glasses of scotch, what could go wrong?

The topic of conversation this night was the hypotheticals of their powers.

“Do you think you could control the iron in a person’s blood?” Charles moved one of his knights forward.

Erik hummed noncommittally, moving a pawn forward one space. “I think it’s possible. I haven’t truly had the opportunity to try it.”

“But, could you sense people by their blood perhaps? Not manipulate it, but recognize it the way I recognize minds?”

Erik smirked. “That seems like something I could try without a certain someone getting mad at me.”

Charles put up his hands in mock surrender. “Not saying I want you to mess with people’s veins, but it’d be good to know in case we run into anyone else with your mutation.”

Erik knocked a rook off the board with one of his bishops. “I’ve always wondered, do people have to be alive for you to get into their minds? Hank was telling me the other day that scientists think there can be electrical activity in the brain for a few minutes after death.”

Charles scoffed. “I don’t really make a habit of trying to commune with the dead, darling.” He moved his queen. “Check.”

“Well, what if you could tell those scientists for sure? Connect with someone before they die, and see what all that activity afterwards is about?” Erik moved his king.

Charles stiffened. “I find that highly unethical.” Charles slid his rook to protect his own king.

Erik glanced up at him, gauging his emotions as he moved his last knight. “Just speaking hypotheticals, liebling. Check, by the way.”

Charles made a wasteful move with another pawn, clearly uncomfortable with Erik’s line of thought. “I wouldn’t advise any telepath to stay connected with someone during their death. I did it only once, and never again.”

“What do you mean?” Erik thought that perhaps Charles had reached out to Raven before she died, perhaps to give her some comfort.

Charles’ eyes grew hard. “When you killed Shaw.”

Erik’s hand froze in the middle of moving his rook. Charles saw his confusion immediately.

“What, did you think I was able to keep him frozen and not be connected to him telepathically?”

Erik began to feel a sinking feeling in his gut. “I guess, I thought—I thought you let go when I..”

“When you started driving a coin through his head?” Charles forcefully moved his queen forward. “Had I done that, he could have killed you.”

“So you tied yourself to a dying man?!”

“It’s not my fault you were killing him! Fucking slowly, might I add.”

What?

“You felt him die? Why didn’t you tell me?” The chess game was forgotten.

“When would I have had the time? You shot me and left with my sister.”

Charles regretted his words instantly as Erik lowered his eyes. “To be honest, Erik, I wasn’t entirely sure what happened. It took me weeks to come to terms with the fact that I felt Shaw die. No other telepath has felt another’s death, at least to my knowledge.”

Erik was quiet for a long moment, before speaking in a whisper. “Show it to me.”

“What? No!” Charles sputtered. Erik still wasn’t meeting his eye, so Charles grabbed his chin and forced him to look at him. “Erik, I am not about to force the worst pain I’ve ever felt into your mind.”

“You aren’t forcing me,” Erik countered. “I’m asking you to show me.”

“Why? So you can make some demented penance? This is new level of masochism, even for you.” Erik’s jaw clenched, but his eyes betrayed his emotion. Charles softened his grip on Erik’s chin, scraping a thumb over his cheek. It was wet. “My love, I’ve already forgiven you, for all of it.” He wanted to run his fingers through Erik’s hair, talk him down from this ledge, and forget this whole conversation.

Erik caught Charles’ hand, holding onto it like an anchor. “How am I supposed to forgive myself, Charles? When I never even knew what I did?” Erik brought Charles’ fingers up to his temple. “Show me. You carry so much of my pain, let me carry some of yours for once.”

Charles’ hand was shaking, but Erik sent a mental message, inviting him in, begging—

Please.

Charles’ answer was agony.

***

Immediately, Erik was flooded with voices.

“Now, Charles!”

“Are you okay?”

“Moira, be quiet—I can only control this man for so long.”

Erik was in Charles’ head, in his memory, yet at the same time he was in his own head, as well as Shaw’s. He could see his past self, picking up his helmet.  

“Sorry, Charles.” His own voice, haunting him.

“Erik, please—be the better man—Erik, there will be no turning back!” And just like that, the connection between them was severed as his past self donned his helmet. This was where Erik’s own memory had previously ended their conversation, but now Erik could hear every word that Charles had screamed at him, willing him not kill Shaw.

He felt Charles’ fear when his past self revealed the coin. It was like the floor dropped out from underneath Charles. Chills ran down his spine. He wanted to run, to fight, but Charles knew that if he let go, Erik could die.

For the first time, Erik could also hear Shaw. For a man who presented himself as so superior, his final thoughts were frantic and pleading.

Xavier, please, unfreeze me. Please, I can help you. I have resources, anything you want—you can have it. Please don’t let me die like this—

But overriding Shaw’s babbling was Charles, still focused on Erik, still pleading with him, despite their severed connection.

“No, please, Erik, no.” Charles’ voice was quavering but his power remained strong. Erik could see through Shaw’s eyes as the coin approached, could feel Shaw screaming, but most of all could feel Charles begging to be heard by him. “Please, Erik.”

Erik finally understood the fear. It wasn’t that Charles was so afraid of Erik killing Shaw—Charles was afraid the Erik was going to kill him.

Charles thought he was about to die, but held onto Shaw anyway.

As the coin drew nearer and nearer to Shaw, Erik could hear Charles whimper one last “please”. And then the pain started. Charles could only scream, but even in his agony, Erik could still hear him mentally calling out for him.

Erik, Erik, please, it hurts. Erik could feel Shaw’s skin splitting and his skull cracking, could feel the shards of bone impaling nerves and skin. When Erik killed Shaw, it felt like no time at all passed between the moment the coin entered his head and passed out the other side, but to Charles—this was an eternity. Erik could pinpoint the exact time Shaw’s screams finally cut out, but Shaw was still feeling, which meant Charles was too. After what felt like years, Charles’ connection to Shaw cut out, and Charles’ mind went black.

[i-smoke-chapstick]

can please request some Angry Gotham Oswald cobblepot, I don't really have a plot in mind yet but.... smexy angry penguin?....loved your last penguin one it was amazing ❤️❤️

‘I SEE RED,

-GOTHAM!OSWALD COBBLEPOT X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Oswald let’s his trust issues get the better of him.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!oswald x female reader. oswald being a jealous angry bastard who holds infidelity as the highest sin imaginable. reader doesn’t actually cheat though! he’s just the most paranoid bird on the planet. Some angst??

♫ “you dug your own grave now lie in it / gun to your head / executioner style” I See Red by Everybody Loves an Outlaw

You’ve never been afraid of him, until now.

You’re certainly stuck in a predicament. You’re on the floor in the iceberg lounge, on your knees, infront of the king of gotham. Your lover. Victor Zsasz has a gun pointed to your temple, looking at his boss for the go ahead. All you can do is stare at oswald- as if this situation is ridiculous. You see him suck his teeth. Oh, he’s pissed.

Right next to you is a waiter. You don’t even know his name, but you know that he served you just the other day. A sweet boy, far younger then Oswald. He is begging and crying out for his life, and you swallow. Ozzie’s henchmen had already roughed him up a little, bloodied nose drying into his skin. You cringe a bit.

Oswald has always been a jealous man- that much you figured since the begginning. When he lay claims to something, it’s his. In this case, it just happened to be you. You’d remember other instances like this in your relationship. A bartender you frequented or a co-worker that suddenly had gone missing. You’d never asked him about it, because you already knew. He’d deny it anyways, offering false sympathies for your loss. What a man.

But he seems to be far beyond saving this time. No, this temper tantrum isn’t just targeted towards the poor soul who made the simple crime of talking to you. It’s also targeted towards you. And in a sense, you can see why. He’s blind with rage.

His eyes bore into yours, watery. He’s breaking down right before you, an absolute wreck. Anger and sadness balled into one. He gives you a dangerous smile as you study him.

“Oz-“

“Quiet!” He bites, “Save your lies! I know what you’ve been doing.” He seethes. He circles you and the poor waiter, nose sniffling. He speaks agonizingly slow. He seems to be pacing the room, caught in a loop of his own emotions.

“You think I wouldn’t find out?” He scoffs, humorlessly. He clasps his hands together, laughing. His face morphs from smiling to absolutely rage-filled in a milisecond. “You know, my dear, I thought you were smarter than this.” He’s practically sneering at you, but his eyes hold the same sadness, that betray his vulnerability.

The waiter finally speaks up, more pleas sounding out. Oswald looks to him, and rolls his eyes dramatically. With a loud growl ripping out his chest, he grabs the nearest bottle on the liquor shelf and smashes it over the boys head.

The boy lets out a loud, defeated yelp- and you first hand see it spur Oswald on. The shard of the bottle still in hand, he stabs the boy over and over and over again. Blood covers Oz’s face, your face, and the walls. You can hear the faint quiet chuckle of Victor in your ear.

Oz is still growling like a madman, heavily breathing and panting over the boys torn apart corpse. All you can do is look on in horror and confusion.

Oz closes his eyes, as to center himself. He drops the bottle shard and the sound of his desperate breathing is the only thing filling the room.

“Oswald.” You speak again, and seemingly, murdering the boy seemed to allievate some of the tension from his body. His eyes snap open and he finally looks at you- blue-green eyes teary. A silent question lingers in the air on his behalf, How could you betray me like this? Us like this? I love you?

You let him have a few seconds to calm down, and he seems to finally let you speak.

“I don’t know what your thinking, but it’s not true.” His eyes just bore into yours, lip curling. You’re even more aware of the gun pressed to your head as the cool metal shifts against you. “You know me Oz. You love me. I love you.”

He closes his eyes as you say those three words, and you continue,

“Have I ever betrayed you?” You plead, urging him to stop this. He looks deep into your eyes, lips pursed, and with your speech he inches closer and closer to you, looking at you kneeling infront of him.

“I love you.” You decide to repeat, you know whatever you say in this moment could cost you your life.

A deafening scilence rings out in the room…and in an instant, oswald brings his hand to immeadiatley push down the gun against your head. You breathe a sigh of relief as Victor holds his hands up, immeadiatley backing off.

Oswald falls to his knees, giving you a hug. It’s full of neediness, and you feel his desperate and shakey breathing against you. You immeadiatley wrap your arms around him back, adrenaline still flooding through the both of you. He cradles you, holding you close to him, eyes closing in bliss. He presses the ghost of a kiss to your shoulder.

You don’t know if you’ll get an apology, but you don’t seem to care. You let him cling onto you like his life depends on it.

Before you know it, he’s pulling you up to stand with him, ranting off mindless orders to Victor to clean the mess of the dead boy up.

All you can do is sit and stare at the corpse.