#ice king x reader

[itsthesinbin]

Hmm I'm curious-

What would be your headcanons for Ice King/Simon/older Finn with a very affectionate/touchy partner?

(Cause God knows if I was dating either of these men I'd be all over em-)

im like a cat i want to lay directly on my friends/partner

Adventure Time

Ice King adores a touchy partner. He's lonely and touch starved, and is probably equally as touchy. He holds hands, he picks you up and hugs you out of nowhere, he demands kissies. Cuddling is a MUST at night.

Simon is a little more reserved than his crown-created self. He doesn't like PDA but is still very touchy. He has to know you're real. That you're with him. So he very much will hold your hand, or wrap an arm around you while you're sitting together. Still a cuddler, though, even if he doesn't initiate it.

Finn is a VERY physically affectionate guy. He hugs, he slaps your back/shoulder/ass, he'll grab you and kiss you even if you're busy. Holds your hand all the time when you walk together. Very cuddly at night, but be careful because he's also a blanket hog.

[cyyfics]

I saw your post and wanted to request general dating headcannons for Simon! (Including NSFW headcannons if you don't mind :D )

—————————-

Simon Dating Hc’s

Pairing: !Simon Petrikov X Reader

Warnings: !NSFW content at the end of SFW part

Note: thank you for sending me a request!!! much love to you <3

Double note: IM SORRY ITS SO LONG I GOT CARRIED AWAY SSKSKSJS

Pronoun stuff: MAINLY gender neutral but there might be some fem coded parts?? With the nsfw stuff there’s fem/gn parts at first and then a diff part for men ^^

And on a third yet different note, a nsfw note: I’m sorry I made simon such a slut!!!!! but also no I’m not hehe

—————

SFW

- when he first meets you he is stricken, immediately getting an interest to you.

- you were already a fan of Simon and his many books that you had read, kicking your feet in bed turning the pages wishing you could some day meet this man.

- that’s when you found out where he was teaching his lectures, and found out that it was actually pretty close to your home town..

- you tried not to dawn over him in person when you actually had finally saw him; taking a seat in the front row and staring at the man with wide eyes while you rested your chin on your left hand.

- you were amazed seeing the few artefacts on the screen in front of you, the lecture only adding to your fanlike obsession over him.

- when the two of you went on your first ‘date’, he couldn’t find himself taking his eyes off of you; your silly antics and your fascination of him couldn’t get him to pull his attention from you.

- he tried to hide his feelings for you for the longest time but when you had finally confessed your heart to him he couldn’t deny you, and so he poured his heart out to you and asked you to be his.

- he was ecstatic when you said yes, immediately taking your hands into his and grinning wide like some kind of mad man, it was sweet. It really was. When he took you into his arms you couldn’t help yourself and kissed him.

- he was shocked of course! he didn’t hate it at all though; he simply pulled you closer and kissed you back. When the two of you pulled away it was like there was stars in your eyes, a small electrical zap shot through you from your clothes rubbing up against his.

-Only confirming for the two of you that there very was much a spark between you two.

- when the two of you started dating after a little while, Simon often found himself spending much more time by you; he would just be chilling in the afternoon on your sofa or he would be beside you wherever you were.

- you’d have to initiate most physical things, kissing him on the cheek when he’s leaned over the kitchen stove making food or wrapping an arm around him on the couch. after a while though he would eventually start doing the same; pulling you close whenever you sat by him and hugging your waist every-time he walked by.

- the two of you were the sweetest couple, finding joy in the little things you two did; enjoying life when you two would be doing laundry together, and enjoying life a little more when you two would be reading and drinking tea besides each other.

- when you’re tired he likes to have you lay in his arms, so he can hold you and lull you to sleep. when he does that though he often finds himself dozing off too not long after, the presence of you making him feel so fuzzy so sleepy that he eventually just falls asleep too.

- he likes to kiss your lips so so much, he will do it every chance he can. wether it’s a passionate kiss or just a simple press of lips to lips, he just likes to kiss you. lounging around on the couch in the early mornings? kiss on the lips. working on the garden outside? kiss to the lips, while he’s bringing you a cup of lemonade to help with the hot sun.

- he finds himself doing many things for you without you ever asking him; it will be simple things too, sorting your laundry, changing your bins, cleaning your mirror, he just likes doing stuff for you. And you like doing the same for him occasionally when you’ll iron his clothes or make his bed.

- in the far future after he became ice king, and then became his old self again; you were there with him then too. Let’s say some sort of very magical and unexplainable essence was able to bring you back, maybe some sacrifices were made in doing that but he neither you cared.

- when he became traumatised you tried everything in yourself to help him, lulling him in your loving arms when he found it hard to sleep, comforting him when he had his many problems, talking him through it all and doing all you can.

- he became way more affectionate, scared that some day he’ll lose you again, he will always be by your side wherever you are. He will be clung onto your waist, his arms wrapped around you and pulling you closer to him.

- “s-simon!!!” you laugh and try to pry him away, not making an actual effort as he pulls you in closer. “i love you so much, more than words could ever know.”

—————-

NSFW part starts now

- he initiates it a lot more than you do actually, surprising I know. he will offer to rub your back and then while doing so his hands will start to wander. or he will be sitting with you on the couch or the end of the bed and he will slowly trail his hand that was sitting comfortably on your knee up to your thigh.

- the first time you guys had sex it was very slow and loving, many verbal praises and many physical kisses were given. he found himself immediately becoming obsessed with the way you felt around him, knowing this definitely wouldn’t be the only time he took you like this.

- now though? he will not be as slow. loving? yes. but slow? no. he will have one of your legs over his shoulder as he’s roughly guiding his hips into you, hissing through his teeth as he tells you how much he loves you. he tells you how good he feels as he’s pushing inside.

- you love and live to fuck this man. each time he folds you over like a pretzel you find yourself seeing stars, every golb damn time. he won’t stop until you do. if you’re not all that sensitive it doesn’t matter to him, he doesn’t care how long it takes you to cum. he will be there between your legs in some way or another for hours if he has to. only exception is you ask to stop.

- he loves to finger you, because he likes seeing your eyelashes flutter when he pushes his fingers into you. he likes watching the way your hips squirm around, rolling against his hand greedily looking for that high in you.

- he doesn’t let you. why should he? he will use one hand to roughly grab your hip and keep you in place, his fingers making lewd sounds as the wetness between your thighs coated his hand. he will also be spewing filth into your ear as he does so “you’re taking my fingers so well, you’re doing so good for me my love.” kissing the side of your neck.

- he will fill you up. idc. you go onto birth control specifically so he CAN cum inside you. he’s just so enamoured with the way your pussy clenches and pulses with cum as he pulls out of you, beads of cum often dripping onto the towel below you. towel being put there after sheets were already ruined before hand by his cum.

- he loves your boobs. outside of sex he will still be there resting his head on your tiddies, trying to be inconspicuous as he tries to slowly burry his face in them. he’s not slick, you can see the way his head turns as he’s lying there.

- he will hold you in his lap some days while you’re just resting together or watching some kind of film on tv, and then suddenly one of his hands will snake up your side; his lips pressing against the side of your neck.

- “simon!” you giggle as his hand brushes against your side, pressing yourself back up against him as you know just how easy it is for him to ‘roused up. “y/n, y-you know what that does to me!” and yet he still lets you do it, rocking back up against your clothed hips as he suddenly loses all self respect.

MALE NSFW HC’s

(Some of the hc’s above were GN so this one will be a little shorter sorry! Also to the girls, there’s some down here that’s SORTA gn as well.)

- he loves your chest. idk why he just does, I think it’s the way your heart beats. it’s comforting to him. but he also loves the heat your body gives off, and he likes to rest his head on your chest.

- although. he also likes the way your chest moves when your breath stutters when he’s doing something filthy to you, maybe kissing your stomach, or kissing you between your thighs, he just loves it.

- i think he’d be a switch, some days he’d wanna be inside of you and some days he’d want you inside him; and on those days he would always be so eager to get down on his knees and take whatever you had to give him.

- when you’d be inside of him he’d just act like the sweetest little thing, whining on the mattress underneath you with one hand grabbing at the sheets. “m-more!” he’d be greedy too. “you want more, darling? I’ll give you more.” and you do. and when you do he just gives this amazing blissed out look, his cock twitching and leaking cum onto the bed beneath you.

- but when he’s in you? he’s like some kind of pervert honestly, the way he stares at your ass the whole time. and if he’s taking you in missionary or some kind of position where you’re facing him? his eyes will not leave your face, and he will take notice of every eye twitch and every halt in your breath as he brings you pleasure.

- bloody pervert I tell you. tell me right now that he wouldn’t purposefully rub up against you while you’re doing mundane things. tell me. that’s right, you can’t. he can barely even sit in your lap without thoughts of ‘should I move my hips back a little?’ and ‘I’m gonna shift around a little..’

- he will jerk you off, he loves it, he lives for it. he will pull you into a heated kiss as his hand is down below getting you off, stroking you up and down as he sticks his tongue into your mouth.

- he loves lapping up your cum, he will do slutty things to get to eat your cum. if you cum onto your stomach, he will lean down and lick it off while looking into your eyes. cum on his hand while he’s stroking you off? he’s making a desperate fool of himself and licking it off.

[sunrise-imagines]

I have a big fat crush on Simon and Finn would you please do some hcs for either of them

Since I’ve already done some for Finn, I think now is a good time to write a little for Simon! Watching him become the latest Tumblr Sexyman™️ has been a dream come true.

*Ending contains spoilers for the last two episodes of Fionna and Cake*

TW: Trauma (this is Simon “‘My fiancé turned into a cosmic deity’ ‘That’s rough buddy’” Petrikov we’re dealing with), mentions of Depression, hurt/comfort

Simon Petrikov x Reader General Relationship Headcanons

• Oh boy, this one’s a doozy.

• Please be patient with him. He is a mess of a person currently, still dealing with the grief of losing Betty and feeling like he doesn’t belong in Ooo no longer being magic. He gets so wrapped up in his sadness that he can neglect the relationships he has in the present. This gets much better after the ending though.

• Self care days are a must, please just pamper this man with a nice hot bath and a massage every once in a while.

• Really good cook, he loves making food for you and it makes him feel like he can actually take care of you.

• He worries about you a lot, especially if you’re someone that likes to take risks and do dangerous stuff.

• He’s a big nerd so he gets excited if you share interests in stuff like science and literature.

• Although he doesn’t like to go on life-threatening adventures (Finn), he still loves the exploring the outdoors and the two of you regularly go for hikes around the safer parts of Ooo.

• Will be very happy if you also have a good friendship with Marceline, seeing his partner and adoptive daughter interact touches his heart.

• Such a simp for you, like if you ask him for anything he will make it his mission to fulfill your request

• His love language is definitely words of affirmation. He needs you to tell him how much you care about him and he loves saying the same to you. He could go on for hours about every little thing he loves about you.

• Marcy and Bonnie will come over for dinner a few times a week, sometimes joined by Finn and HW as well.

• He hates celebrating his own birthday (he’s turning 60) but he loves yours and will definitely bake you a cake and throw small birthday party for you. The party only consists of a few close friends but if you don’t like parties he’s perfectly fine with it being just the two of you.

• At first he wasn’t sure if you would even want to date an old man like him, but as time went on he became more confident in himself and that he deserves love just as much as anyone else, and he’s more than happy to share that love with you.

Bonus!

• Despite her current state, GolBetty is immensely happy seeing Simon finally able to move on and be happy.

• Even if they never got their happy ending, the fact that you and him are able to live happily together brings her peace, and she trusts you to take care of him.

[1-beansss-1]

Dealing with loss...

Part 2

Simon Petrikov x reader

Warnings - mentions of Suicide, SH, Depression, ED, and Alcohol

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

You stood up and looked around. You saw the ice king.

"Icy..?"

"YOU... YOU NEVER HELPED! I WAS MISERABLE AND YOU JUST WATCHED"

"No.. please don't be mad at me.. Icy.. You never yelled at me.."

You fell to your knees and started sobbing loudly.

"Please calm down.."

You reached out to him, but your hand went right through him and fell to the ground.

You woke up on the ground beside your bed. You groaned and got up slowly.

"I don't want to have these dreams.. I'm gonna get a drink... mabye then I won't..."

You felt your body ache, and you stretched to try to relieve some pain. You walked out of your house and to the candy tavern, thinking about the dream as you walked. You looked up, realizing you were at the bar and walked in, going straight to the bar. You sat down at the bar and started to drink heavily, but you paced yourself. You didn't want to pass out. You normally just got blackout drunk, but this time, you wanted to be able to walk home the same night without needing help. You shifted around in your seat, feeling pretty drunk, a happy drunk.

"Hey, Dirtbeer guy! Heeyy...heyy! my glass is empty!"

You were almost yelling at him, and you shook your glass at him.

"Alright.. Alright.. stop yelling.."

He filled your drink up again and sighed.

"What? Yelling? I'm not yelling! Would you like to hear yelling?"

You started to laugh loudly.

"Mabye, you should go home.."

"Huh? Aw, Dirtbeer guy, don't be meannn! I'm having fuunn!"

You said as you leaned over the bar. Dirtbeer guy sighed and called simon.

"Hey.. Y/N's drunk again.. They're getting loud.. come get them"

Dirtbeer guy figured you two were dating or something since he took you home yesterday. You leaned over the bar more and reached for the phone.

"Hey, who are you talking to? I wanna talk"

You grabbed the phone from his hand.

"Heyy! Who is thiss?"

You got off the bar and leaned backward a bit.

"It's Simon.."

He answered. You smiled and leaned back in your chair a bit.

"Simon! Heyy! I like your voice, talk to me more.. pleeeaase.."

You whined slightly and moved the phone closer to your ear.

"A-Alright.. well, I'm going to the bar to help you.."

"Help? Nahh, come drink with me, Simon!"

You raised your glass for a nonexistent toast and took a drink.

"No.. No.. I'd never get home then"

He chuckled a bit.

"Simon! Your laugh is really cute.."

"Oh.. um.. t-thank you..?"

You laughed so loudly Simon had to move the phone away from his ear.

"Simon, you're coming, right?"

"Yes..."

You leaned further back and fell out of the chair. You dropped the phone.

"Oh no.. I fell!"

You laughed and looked at the ground next to you, the phone was there.

"Simon, I'm on the floooor...."

"Are you alright? It sounded like a pretty hard fall.."

"I'm great!!"

Simon hung up the phone and walked inside the bar.

"SIMON! I'm on the floor!"

You put your arms up. He walked over to you and helped you up and into a seat.

"We need to get you home.."

Simon sighed. You leaned over on Simon, resting your head on his shoulder.

"No.. have a drink with me.. please"

You whispered into his ear. He tensed up and leaned away from you.

"Just one.. alright?"

You got off of him and laughed.

"Yay!"

He ordered a drink and took a sip of it.

"Hey Simon.. have I told you that I think you're pretty attractive?"

He was caught off guard and alcohol spewed out his nose. He coughed and covered his nose. You laughed and leaned over onto him more.

"Y-You need to go home. You're saying things you'll regret!"

You shook your head and crossed your arms, pouting.

"Noo! You haven't finished your drink yet"

He let out a frustrated sigh and downed his drink.

"Now, can we leave?"

He grumbled a bit and wiped his mouth off.

"Oh, you're coming home with me? Alright then, let's go! Come on!"

You stood up and pointed to the door. You started to stumble out the bar. Simon sighed and followed you.

"Listen, I'm just going to help you home and then leave"

You looked back at him and walked closer to him, grabbing his hand, swinging it around.

"Aww.. you're not staying? I thought we could have fun.."

Simon turned red and tried to pry your fingers from his hand.

"N-No! No.. you're way too drunk..."

You leaned on him and pulled his hand to your face, kissing the back of his hand. He got tired of your antics and pushed you off of him. He didn't even use much force, but you stumbled backward and fell to the ground.

"SIMON! You're so mean.. you took away my Icy and now you push me?"

You got up and ran away, stumbling around a bit. You were going the wrong direction to your house. Simon let out a tired sigh and ran after you.

"You're going the wrong way.."

He called out to you. You stopped and turned around.

"You think I don't know where MY house is?"

You put your hands on your hips. Simon caught up with you and grabbed your hand, dragging you home.

"I'm getting tired of this.."

You looked at your hand and blushed a bit. He got to your house and pushed you inside.

"Fine.. Fine, I'm going in!"

You walked inside and walked to your bedroom. Simon looked around. He saw how messy it was. Things were scattered about. Photos, keepsakes, clothes, anything that reminded you of the ice king, it was everywhere. He leaned on the door frame. He didn't know if he could do this. He put a hand on his head and walked in. He looked at the pictures of you and Ice King. Memories flashed into his head. He groaned, leaning forward. You came out of the bedroom and put your hands on his shoulders.

"A-Are you ok? Let me help"

You picked him up, acting on instinct. He tried to push you away, but you had a firm grip. you took him to the bed and laid him down.

"W-What are you doing?!"

You looked at him and brushed the hair out of his face.

"Shh, get some sleep now.. go to sleep icy.."

You kissed his cheek and tucked him in. You sat on the ground next to the bed. He sat up and looked confused.

"What the hell..?"

"Go to bed.. Icy.. I know you're sad.. I'm here.. I won't leave you."

You reached up in the bed and felt around for his hand. Simon laid back down. He couldn't figure out how to get out of this situation. He had to admit, it did feel nice being comforted like this. You grabbed his hand and squeezed a bit

"Do you want me to sing the song? Hmm?"

"A-Alright?"

He didn't know what you meant, but he wanted to figure it out. You started to sing the cheers theme, you closed your eyes and swayed your body slightly. Simon smiled slightly and hummed along. He was surprised you knew it. Your singing got quiter as you started to fall asleep. He got out of bed and put you in it instead. He let out a tired sounding sigh and tried to leave. you still had his hand in yours, and you weren't letting go. He sighed and sat down on the floor.

"Guess I'm staying.."

Simon put his knees close to his chest and rested his head on them, trying to get as comfortable as he could. He yawned and went to sleep.

You squeezed his hand and moved around in the bed, having another nightmare.

"Icy, please.. I.."

You mumbled in your sleep. Simon woke up and stood up. He looked at the clock. A few hours had passed. You woke up and shot up in the bed.

"This is why I get blackout drunk.."

You sighed and reached for your head. You looked over at Simon and jumped, moving away from him.

"The fuck? What are you doing here?"

You grabbed your head, you didn't remember anything.

"I took you home.. but you wouldn't let me go.."

He pointed to his hand that you were still holding. You let go of it quickly and huffed. You pulled your legs to your chest.

"I don't remember.. please tell me I didn't do anything.. weird.."

You said as you put your head in your knees.

"I don't think you want to know.."

Simon said, looking down.

"That bad, huh? Just tell me.."

He let out a sigh.

"Uh, so, you were so loud. Dirtbeer guy called me to pick you up"

You chuckled a bit and nodded. He fidgeted with his hands as he talked.

"Um, you fell on the floor... You ran away.. in the wrong direction"

"Nothing out of the ordinary"

"I took you home and put you to bed.."

You turned to look at him and squinted.

"You're leaving stuff out.. I can tell.."

He tilted his head and looked at you.

"I-I'm not leaving anything out. What do you mean?"

"Your voice sounds nervous, you're tense, and you're fidgeting. You have the same tells as him.."

You sighed, putting your head back in your knees. Simon looked uncomfortable. He didn't like that he acted like the ice king.

"Sorry.. I know how you feel about being compared to him.."

"It's alright.."

Simon sighed and looked down.

"Um.. you.. you flirted with me the whole night.. actually, you told me you wanted to have uh 'fun'"

You cringed at his words.

"Oh... Please forget that! That's gross.. I really did that?"

Simon nodded.

"Great.."

You sighed and looked at Simon.

"Anything else?"

"Um.. I was having trouble seeing the pictures and stuff... you stared to comfort me like you would do for ice king.."

"Picking him up, tucking him in, holding his hand as he slept.."

You mumbled, remembering how you did it. You sighed, you stared to feel embarrassed.

"Did.. Did I sing the song?"

Simon nodded and you put your hands on your face.

"That's so embarrassing! Please, just forget this happened.. ugh.."

Your face was red. Simon smiled at you and nodded.

"How do you know the cheers theme anyway?"

You looked confused.

"Cheers? What's that? Do you mean the song? Icy taught me...."

Simon sighed.

"It's my favorite show.."

You yawned a bit and looked at the time.

"Aren't you tired?"

"A bit.."

You sighed and got up.

"It's late.. just sleep in my bed.. I'll go to the couch.."

You grabbed a pillow, you walked out before he could protest. You laid down on your couch and sighed, falling asleep quickly.

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[fragileheartbeats]

Your a pussy you say you don't have a side but you LOVE AEGON.You think we are stupid like you??? Have balls and say your a Rape Apologist who wants to fuck a pretty bitch named Tom who's a rapist.Aegon is a half-blood murder rapist you fucking disgusting.Rhaenyra was rightful queen but he take her right away from her.aren't you a woman???you supposed to take Rhaenyra side but you just want to be raped by a pretty boy.you just like aegon because of tom.

I'm really tired of people like you.

You're stupid, your argument is stupid, you sound stupid and you make stupid points.

You think because you're team black you did a great thing or something? You can't be that stupid that you don't understand that the writers want you to be on black side. It's pretty obvious. Writers are pro black and unprofessional, I bet they didn't even read the book.

I don't like Aegon because Tom playing him and I want to fuck a pretty bitch, I like Tom because he play Aegon. If he didn't played Aegon, I would never have known this lovely man, and you guys really should stop insulting him, he's just doing his job and he try he's best to do a good job so we can enjoy the show. If you hate him, keep it to yourself because words have more affect that you might think. I understand that you don't like him, there are people that I myself dislike but I would never say something like this about them, not only your words can hurt them mentally but also can ruin their life.

Aegon was a rapist, yes almost like every other men in GOT and HOTD. And if you actually think with a brain you can understand that on his time it was normal for men in power to rape women. It was normal for sons to take the throne after their father and it was normal for siblings to kill each other for power. You really think if he lived in 2024 he would be a rapist and a murder? Or would he tried to take Rhaenyra's right?

"Half-blood" is such a funny word to use. Rhaenyra herself wasn't a pure Targaryen, her bastards are less that half Targaryen and her true borns aren't pure Targaryen either. Idk why you guys use this word as if it's an insult and it's give her more right (if she was a pure Targaryen, which she's not) to be queen.

"Rightful"? What do you exactly mean by that? There is no rightful when it's come to power, and if it is, the day that Aegon was born and the day that Rhaenyra born her first bastard it was over. Believe it or not, people didn't want a woman in power, especially a woman like Rhaenyra. And they didn't want bastards to sit on iron throne. Idk why it's so hard to understand that this war would happened not matter if it was Aegon or someone else, but I promise people wouldn't let a woman and especially a woman who have obvious bastards sit on iron throne.

Tell me something that Rhaenyra did and it's make her a rightful and good queen, just one thing and I promise I would choose black.

Actually when she sat on iron throne, it's cut her and she bleed and it was a sign that the throne rejected her.

She would never make a good queen, she was spiteful, jealous and a lustful woman, the only thing that make her a "queen" is her father claiming her as heir. She lack strong sense of duty and her desires make her to do a lot of stupid things. She was someone who ignored the rules and did not accept her responsibilities and shirked from them. Being a king or queen need a great potential that she lacked.

"With great power come great responsibility". She wanted the power, yes but she didn't do anything to deserve it. Instead of changing herself, she expects others to obey her without any words or expectations. She didn't read anything about history and didn't try to fit herself into her position as a female heir.

One of the worst things she did that jeopardized her position as future queen was that she gave birth to bastards, but what made it worse was that she pretended that they were true born and should sit on the iron throne after her. And she punished everyone who said otherwise. As I said before, she's Targaryen version of Cersei. Both Rhaenyra and Cersei gave birth to three ridiculously obvious looking bastards and tried everything in their power to shut the people who said the true. But at least Cersei could tell that her bastards look like her unlike Rhaenyra.

Of course, Viserys is also to blame. He never prepared Rhaenyra to be queen because he never intended to choose her as his heir in the first place, he always tried for a son and when Aemma failed to give him a son he chose Rhaenyra as his heir (he didn't want Daemon to be king). He also increased the chances of starting a war by having three true born sons and choosing none as his heir.

Rhaenyra always relied on others and never took responsibility for her mistakes and never tried to change.

And if this is about feminism, isn't feminism supposed to be about equality between men and women? If so then tell me why Rhaenyra stayed behind, eat her sweets and watched her family die for her while Aegon fought in the war, being burned and crippled?

Ever wondered why Rhaenyra couldn't win this war even though she had more dragons and more people supporting her? Maybe it was because she didn't know how to be a ruler? Maybe it was because she wasn't fit to be a queen? Maybe it was because she did almost everything wrong?

I don't want to be raped, I like Tom, yes because he's a sweet man. He's lovely and beautiful, ofc I like him. But Aegon is a different story, I always liked Aegon, he was the most interesting character in the book and I understood him most that's why I like him.

Now please stop your bullshit, you're just embarrassing yourself, it's pathetic.

The next time you decide to send a message like this think with your brain because I'm done being polite.

[parkvcrs]

Boyfriend!Marshall Lee Headcanons

• Contrary to popular belief, Marshall Lee is actually a good boyfriend and treats you like a princess… but you have to squint a bit because he doesn’t directly tell you. He’ll act almost the same way he does with Fiona, but underneath that façade, he does care for you.

- (Which is very surprising to Fiona because of all the shenanigans she and Cake get into because of Marshall, but I digress).

• He is extremely flirty with you. He even likes to tease you a bit.

• He loves it whenever he gets the chance to sing to you or show one of his new songs to you. He won’t make it a bit deal and gather a crowd. He’ll keep it lowkey. Just between you two.

- If you can sing? Then by all means, PLEASE join in!

• Marshall definitely writes songs for you and about you. And if you’re comfortable, he’ll try bringing you along to every party he attends where you can watch him sing.

• Because he’s a vampire, he is more active during the night. So, expect him to try and bother you (with the best intentions) in the dead of the night.

• When you go out on dates, don’t you dare touch his french fries! You already saw how badly that went with his mom.

• He won’t admit that he loves physical touch and I feel like that’s his top love language. So, whenever you get the chance to hold him or cuddle him? He is as happy as he can be. :))

• He would try and play pranks on you.

- And fail because you know him like the back of your hand.

- The aftermath would be very awkward. Marshall would just be standing there like: 0-0;;.

• This man showers you in compliments whenever and wherever he can!

• He loves watching movies at his place with you in pajamas.

- Would love it if both of you even wore matching ones. It would be so cute! 😭

[gumycandyyy]

Hey there! Your writing is OUTSTANDING! I was wondering if you could write a Winter King x fem!reader fic where the reader rescues him along with the scouts but ends up badly injured? And tee hee WK pampers her and takes care of her THE BRAIN ROT IS REAL

୨♡ "Ｔｉｓ Ｂｕｔ Ａ Ｓｃｒａｔｃｈ" ♡୧

Type: Oneshot

Fem reader (I was originally gonna make her an ice creature, but she works better as... not an ice creature.) Someone please rq a male reader, I wanna write a male reader wahhhh

Request: Yes! Still open, but it'll take a while to write, as I have other requests.

No use of y/n

hurt/comfort (literally)

Summary: Winter King got kidnapped. Again. And you get hurt while saving him. Fluff ensues.

Word Count: 1278

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

"Ice Scouts? A little help?"

You looked up, hearing Winter King. You were training with the scouts, just having a gay old time sword fighting and skating. However, It appeared Candy Queen had made some giant type candy monster, and used it to snatch Winter right out of his throne room and carry him to the Candy Kingdom.

Great.

"Oh, you too..!"

Winter yelled just as he left earshot, obviously referring to you. You were the captain of the royal guard, and Winter's best friend. The ice scouts sheathed their swords, ready to leave immediately. They spoke to you in unison.

"Miss Captain! You must accompany us to save our King!"

"Miss Captain! You must accompany us to save our King!"

You nodded, sheathing your sword. You guessed that Winter would be held at the top of the Candy tower/mountain thing, as always. You left swiftly, along with the scouts.

"Ice scouts! You take care of any candy monsters, I'll take care of the Queen!"

They nodded, ready to follow your every order. You eventually made it to the Candy kingdom, and climbed the mountain. You made it to the top, ducking and weaving around the monsters to get to Winter as soon as possible.

Kicking down the door, you saw Candy Queen playing her keyboard, as always. Winter was in his cage, scratching another tally mark in his 'times kidnapped' wall. His crown was on a small table just out of reach of the cage. Candy Queen looked at you and deadpanned.

"Aww, not again! C'mon, ya can't give me one afternoon alone with him? I'd take good care of him!!"

Candy bumped her pointer fingers together, trying to win your favor. It was honestly pitiful. She tried so hard, but still. She was a creep.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously! I mean- You wouldn't miss him! I wouldn't scratch him up too bad! Well, unless..."

You looked over to Winter, who looked quite uncomfortable at the current topic, a strained smile on his 'save me from this maniac' face. You sighed, putting your hands at your sides.

"Fine."

Candy's eyes sparkled.

"You- you mean it?"

She bounced up and down on her heels, ready to give you a hug. No thanks. Winter looked shocked, and ready to pass away.

"Yeah, yeah- OF COURSE I DON'T MEAN IT."

You brought out your sword, flipping it around, and knocking the wind out of Candy with the hilt. She coughed, and you grabbed her by the collar of her shirt. You brought her over to a window, kicking it open and dangling her out of it.

"Come on, come on! Let's talk about this! Maybe we could share him? I get weekdays, you get weekends? Please?"

You deadpanned, ready to tell her off. Though her expression suddenly turned devious, and you heard something from behind you.

"Miss Captain! Watch out!"

"Miss Captain! Watch out!"

You turned around sharply, pulling out your sword. You let go of Candy, but she was able to grab onto the windowsill and pull herself back inside.

A banana (At least you think it's a banana) guard roared in your face, and lunged at you. It seems the ice scouts missed this one. It clawed at your stomach, tearing the flesh and causing you to cry out in pain. The ice scouts broke open the cage, and gave Winter King his crown.

The next thing you knew, the banana guard was frozen in a block of ice, hovering right above you. It seems the blast also knocked Candy out. You cursed, getting out from underneath the guard. You were about to run to Winter, checking to see if he was okay, but you collapsed, clutching your stomach- which was bleeding profusely. Winter caught you before you hit the floor, and wrapped his arms around you.

"Are you o-"

Winter gasped, seeing your bloody midriff.

He almost started to panic, and ordered the ice scouts to go to the winter palace to prepare anything you might need. He started to pick you up in his arms, but you held your hand out to stop him.

"Winter, I can handle it. I'm captain of the royal guard for a reason-!"

You seethed, feeling air hit your open wound. You started to stand up, using Winter as an anchor. You stood up straight, breathing heavily. You started to walk on your own, however, you collapsed yet again, and fell into unconsciousness.

This is what you get for acting like you're invincible.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

You woke up, breathing in cold air. You didn't need to open your eyes to know you were back in the Winter Kingdom. You felt something gripping your hand, and you were no longer in pain. Well.. Excruciating pain, at least. You fluttered open your eyes, trying to get used to the bright blue light of the palace.

"Y- You're awake! I.."

You looked over to Winter King, who was sitting at your bedside, holding your hand. He looked disheveled and tired. He took his hands away to adjust his glasses, and cleared his throat.

"N- Now that I know you're... Okay.. I-"

He seemed unusually somber, which was way out of character, especially for him.

"How long was I out?"

"..."

"Winter. How long was I out."

"..."

"Four days."

Woah. You left your King unprotected, for four days. And judging by the dull throb where your wound was healing, it would be much longer than that. You sat up sharply, then felt a stabbing pain. You seethed and rested your hand on your midriff.

"I'm so sorry Winter, ah- My king. I can't believe I've left you unprotected for that lo-" "Shut up."

"Pardon?"

"I said, shut up."

Winter's expression was pained, and he seemed to be very conflicted with his emotions.

"You think I care about that? Why would I care about not being protected when I could have lost you!?"

He had stood up. His voice was raised and shaky. He looked as if he was about to start sobbing. He then looked just as surprised at his emotional outburst as you were.

"I.."

"I don't know what came over me, that.. What just happened, it.." "It shouldn't be possible..."

"Pardon me?"

Winter brushed his strange behavior off, and sat back down. He took your hand in his, and spoke in a calm manner.

"I apologize. What I meant, is I could care less about myself right now. I was worried you would die, haha!"

There it was. His strange optimism, though.. It felt kind of good to see him so emotional. It just went to show how much he really cared about you. You took your hand back, and moved it up to cup his face, his soft hair ticking the skin on your hand.

"Thank you."

Winter's cheeks turned pink, a nice contrast to his normal pale blue. He laughed softly, turning his face slightly away from you.

"It's what anyone would do."

He smiled sweetly at you, turning his face back to you. He stood up, bending over you to place a soft kiss on your forehead. Your face flushed, and you looked away nervously. You laughed together in a wonderful kind of oddity, before Winter stood up fully.

"Well, I suppose I should get back to ruling my Winter Wonder World, shouldn't I? If you need anything, ask me. I want to be the one to take care of you."

You nodded in response, and watched Winter gracefully glide towards the door. You snuggled up in the sheets and blankets you were surrounded by, and before Winter left, you asked him a question.

"Wait, what room am I in?"

"Oh, mine."

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Oh man, I loved this one. Here's your complimentary WK art ^^

reblog for a beginner writer?

[simoncrysmain]

Hehe y/n stuff

[daemonsdivorcerock]

THE HEIR WHO NEVER WAS || d.Targaryen

IN WHICH: a decade after the two rogues of house targaryen run away, they live a content life in pentos until they are invited to laena velaryon’s funeral on driftmark and are forced to reunite with their dysfunctional family.

REQUESTED: yes/no

PAIRING: daemon targaryen x fem!reader

AUTHOR’S NOTES: sequel to “taming of the shrew”. i advise that you read that first. also reader is described as having silver hair. meraxes, the dragon of the first rhaenys targaryen, is alive for selfish reasons/j. sorry if this is shit.

WARNINGS: incest (bucket loads), westerosi shenanigans, mentions of death, childbirth, children, daemon being daemon, otto hightower, maiming/bodily injury, angst, fighting, dysfunctional family, targaryen shit etc

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

“THAT’S IT, PRINCESS, ONE MORE PUSH!” the young Pentosi midwife joyfully encourage, crouching at the end of a double bed, the white sheets tarnished with the crimson blood of the Heir Who Never Was.

(Name) panted, chest heaving. Sweat clung to her brow, eyebrows knitted, eyes closed and nose scrunched as her features contorted with pain. Her hands were occupied. One gripping Daemon’s alarmingly pale one in a vice-grip and the other holding her swollen baby bump.

“I AM PUSHING YOU CHILD-LOOKING CUNT!” (Name) shrieked hysterically. Daemon covered his mouth in a failed attempt to conceal his snicker, “DAEMON, SHUT THE FUCK UP! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU ARE NOT BEDDING ME EVER AGAIN, YOU STROPPY SMALL-COCKED GIT!”

The room was soon filled with the loud set of shrieks that the whole castle could here. (Name) began to son happily as Daemon kissed her sweaty brow. “A boy, my Princess,” the midwife happily said, holding the naked, squirming, blood-stained babe in her arms.

“It is all over now, my shrew,” Daemon softy whispered, kissing her temple lovingly, “The babe is safe. He is healthy. He is kicking like a goat. Our son,”.

Minutes later, the Rogue Prince and the Shrew of King’s Landing sat on the bed, doting on their new son. The sound of subtle whispers, odd for their daughters, came from the corridor. The door softly opened, revealing their brood of silver-haired daughters in tow with a servant, Elaine.

“Come here, girls,” (Name) beckoned, smiling happily at her daughters, “Come and meet your younger brother,”.

Their eldest, Daenerys, was mature for an almost eleven-year-old and led her younger sisters. After an encounter in a brothel in the weeks leading up to Rhaenyra’s wedding to Laenor Velaryon, (Name) refused the Moon Tea from the Grand Maester and she hadn’t regretted it.

Daenerys was the eldest of now six children. Aemma, Rhaenys, Alyssa and Rhaella followed their eldest sister. “Girls, this is your brother,” Daemon said, holding three-year-old Rhaella on his lap, whilst five-year-old Alyssa climbed onto the bed with the help of nine-year-old Rhaenys.

Seven-year-old Aemma sat closest to (Name), doting on her brother. “This is Baelon,” (Name) told the girls, gesturing to the slumbering babe in her arms, fondling smiling at the sleeping baby boy.

The girls gushed over their new brother, each getting a turn to gently hold the babe. For none of them knew what the future held for them in the days coming.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

Laena Velaryon was dead. Set herself aflame after failing to give birth. The funeral was in to be held on Driftmark, as she had wanted. She’d left behind her husband, Ser Harwin Strong, and their twin daughters, Baela and Rhaena.

The funeral was teemed with tension and was a sombre occasion as Laena’s stone coffin was lowered into the sea. Laena’s mother Rhaenys looked devastated. Ten years it’d been since (Name) had seen her family. And much had occurred in ten years.

Alicent had bore her father two more sons, Aemond and Daeron. Rhaenyra had bore three sons, Jacaerys, Lucerys and the infant Joffrey, who were in no method possible Laenor’s biological children and had an, as Daemon put it, “entirely coincidental and unmarked resemblance to the Commander of the City Watch”.

After the initial funeral procedures, (Name) had noticed how the girls had made Baela and Rhaena smile a little and how her daughter Rhaenys had taken a shining to Aemond. Daenerys and Aemma were in deep conversation with Helaena. The interactions made her smile.

The girls had yet to meet their cousins, Jace, Luke and Joffrey. Or their aunt, Rhaenyra. Rhaella clung onto (Name)’s skirts, hiding behind the thick, black velvet of the dress’ material.

Baelon was a heavy sleeper, currently residing in his mother’s arms, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took and gave. She’d reunited with her cousins, Rhaenys and Corlys Velaryon, offering her sympathies for what happened to Laena.

As children and teenagers, (Name) had shared a sweet friendship with Laena, comforting her after the events at the Heir’s Tournament all those years before. They’d danced at the celebrations for Laenor and Rhaenyra’s wedding ceremony.

Her father looked terrible. His hair had thinned and he looked frankly horrible. Yet, he somehow gave his eldest daughter a smile. “(Name),” Viserys spoke. His voice sounded heavy as if it pained him to utter the word, “It is…good to you, my daughter,”.

(Name) gave him a half-curtsey, careful not to wake Baelon. “As it is equally good to see you, father,” she spoke, half-smiling, “Ten years. It certainly has been a long time,”.

Daenerys, Rhaenys, Aemma, Alyssa and Rhaella trailed behind their rogue of a father. “Brother,” Daemon greeted, “Time hasn’t been too kind on you,”.

(Name) thought he’d be upset but Viserys laughed slightly at Daemon’s comment. “These are your granddaughters,” (Name) said, “Daenerys, she is ten. Rhaenys is nine. Aemma is seven. Alyssa is five. Rhaella is three,”.

Viserys fondly smiled at each of his granddaughters. “They have their mother’s beauty,” the King mentioned. (Name) noticed how he’d visibly tensed at hearing Aemma and Alyssa’s names but smiled, “Is this my grandson, who cried a little during the precessions?”.

Daemon smirked. “His name is Baelon,” he casually mentioned, causing the king to visibly tense again, “After Father. He was born but three weeks ago,”.

“That was around the same time as when Joffrey was born,” a voice chimed in. Rhaenyra, with her sons,“Sister. Uncle. It is good to see you both again. And meet my nieces and nephew,”.

(Name) was elder than Rhaenyra by a year. Their relationship soured when Rhaenyra was named the heir to the Iron Throne, despite (Name) being Viserys’ eldest child. “Sister,” she smiled, “Those must be my nephews. Jace, Luke and…Joffrey, he’s inside, is he not? They will be good knights, so…Strong,”.

Viserys’ face blanched. Rhaenyra glared whilst the boys looked confused. “Do not take is as an insult, boys,” (Name) spoke in a manner that bordered on mocking, “It is good to be Strong, is it not, sister?”.

Daemon began to snicker. (Name) handed Baelon to Viserys, who held him in his remaining arm. (Name) sharply elbowed Daemon in the ribs, causing him to spill his cup of wine slightly.

Rhaenyra huffed, walking away to speak to Laenor. Luke followed Rhaenyra suit. Jace lingered. “Aunt,” he asked, catching (Name)’s attention, “May I ask you something?”.

“Of course, dear boy,” (Name) spoke, smiling at the brunette boy, “You may ask me whatever you wish,”

“Mother will not be honest with me about this matter…” Jace spoke, nervously fiddling with his fingers, “Am I a…bastard? Is Ser Harwin my father?”.

(Name)’s eyes widened in horror. Was Rhaenyra truly planning to put a bastard on the Iron Throne? She always knew her father was metaphorically blind, but not this blind. She was blatantly aware of her father’s favouritism to Rhaenyra. But she never knew it was this bad.

“Yes,” she spoke quietly, “I cannot believe your mother is not being honest about this to you. Harwin Strong is your father. Laenor is not your father. Nor is he Luke or Joffrey’s father. I am so sorry, dear boy,”.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

Earlier in the day, whilst Daemon was holding Baelon, (Name) found herself skulking around in black velvet after Laena’s casket had been lowered into the ocean.

“Hand turns loom…” the dreamlike voice of her younger sister, Helaena Targaryen, uttered, letting a spider crawl across the skin of her hand, “Spool of Red…Spool of Black…dragons of flesh…weaving dragons of thread,”.

(Name) crouched next to Helaena. “Sister,” Helaena greeted, smiling at her older sister, “May I tell you something?”.

The older woman smiled at her younger sister. “Of course, Hel,” (Name) spoke, “Anything,”.

As an infant, Helaena was restless and cried with her whole being unless she was held by (Name). “I have…strange dreams,” Helaena confessed, “And those dreams…become real as time goes on…do you think that is normal?”.

(Name) placed a hand on Helaena’s shoulder. “My dear Helaena,” she spoke, catching Helaena’s attention from the spider, “It is. You see…many years ago, before the fall of Old Valyria, our ancestor, Daenys, had a dream. She dreamed of the fall of Old Valyria two and ten years before it actually happened,”.

Helaena’s eyes widened, beckoning her sister to continue. “As Targaryens, we are known for our ability to ride dragons. Some Targaryens had the ability to dream of the future. Dragon Dreamers. I am a Dreamer, just like you. My sister, don’t ever let Aegon make you feel inferior without your consent. You are a marvel,”

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

The sun was barely setting when she discovered a horrific sight. Otto Hightower, who’d been reinstated as Hand of the King, was roughing up Aegon, who was half-drunk and slumped against the wall.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Lord Hand?” (Name) spoke, glaring at hole into Otto Hightower’s soul. Her voice had a frightening steeliness to it.

Otto bowed. She truly resented Otto, as a man and as Hand of the King. “Princess,” he greeted, “There is nothing to see here. I suggest you rejoin Prince Daemon inside,”.

She scoffed. “I would rather feed myself to Meraxes than listen to a word you have to say,” (Name) spat, folding her arms, “I know a few dragons who would gladly set you alight, akin to a torch. Caraxes, Meraxes, Vermithor and Silverwing, for instance,”.

Otto visibly tensed. He bowed and walked past her. “Sister,” Aegon drunkenly slurred, as (Name) heaved teenager up from the ground, “-Nice to see you again! I missed you!”.

“I missed you too, Egg,” (Name) smiled to the boy, placing his arm across her shoulders for support and guiding him up the stairs. “Come on. Let’s get you to bed, sweet Prince,”.

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

It was the late evening when (Name) had been approached. The events following Laena’s funeral had been drastic. Young Aemond had claimed Vhagar as his mount, causing a fight between him, Jace, Luke, Daenerys, Rhaenys, Aemma, Baela and Rhaena.

It was an honest accident when Daenerys maimed Aemond and caused him to lose and eye. Alicent understood that. What she did not understand was that it was in defence of Jace and Luke’s legitimacy.

It’d blown up into a full-blown fight between Rhaenyra and Alicent, one of which had come at the other with a Valyrian Steel Dagger belonging to Aegon the Conqueror. (Name) had stepped in and gotten cut across the bridge of her nose.

There was a sharp knock at the door, catching both the attentions of the Rogue Prince and the Shrew of King’s Landing. “Enter,” (Name) spoke. The doors opened, revealing the visage of Otto Hightower.

Daemon blanched. “Lord Hand,” he bitterly spoke, “Have you come to darken our door for the ordeal earlier?”.

Otto sent a steely glare Daemon’s way, causing the Rogue Prince to mockingly smirk at him. “I have not, Daemon,” Otto spoke. Alicent stood behind him, guiltily staring at (Name), “I have come to speak to Princess (Name),”.

This caught (Name)’s attention, who was rocking Baelon softly in her arms, their daughters had since retired to the guest chambers with Baela and Rhaena hours prior. “Speak plainly, Lord Hand,” (Name) commanded coolly, briefly making eye contact with Ser Criston Cole, “What brings to you my chambers at this time of night?”.

“I believe we are…aligned,” Otto mused, adjusting the pin on his emerald-coloured lapel, making Daemon scoff, “In our beliefs in regards to the legitimacy of Princess Rhaenyra’s sons and the line of succession,”.

He was putting salt into the all the right wounds. (Name) was still evidently bitter about her younger sister being named heir over her and her plans to put her bastard son on the throne.

“My father is a fool,” (Name) confessed, softly stroking Baelon’s silver-coloured tufts of hair, “Nothing would change that. He is blind to the truth. Rhaenyra is his favourite child and nobody can deny that. He cannot accept the truth that Jace, Luke and Joffrey are bastards,”.

Otto smirked. “What if it did not have to be that way?” Alicent asked. This made (Name) glance at her stepmother, “What if another were to inherit the throne after the King’s passing?”.

“How would you like to be Queen, (Name)?” The Hand of the King quickly asked, making (Name) glance at Daemon, holding Baelon closer to her chest.

[talesof-old]

dry hands | r.s.

pairing(s): robb stark x reader

warning(s): nothing really, a few mentions of old wounds/scarring, having dry skin to the point of pain/bleeding, not edited or proofread, this is definitely a little slice of life type drabble

word count: 859

masterlist

a/n: this is an over one year old request, my apologies. i’ve been finally feeling up to working through some of my old stuff, so i’m hopefully gonna put them out over the next little bit

robb stark + “why are your hands so dry?”

Winter had come swiftly.

Summer flurries had turned to inches deep snow that gathered on the hem of your skirts and soaked the bottom of your cloak. You’d taken to spending most of your time indoors, basking in the heat the springs beneath Winterfell offered. Robb, ever dutiful, had barely had the chance to even sleep beside you, too consumed by his ever pressing responsibilities as King in the North.

You sighed, setting down the cross stitching you’d been working on for what seemed like ages, and instead inspected your hands. The cold made them ache, but the constant back and forth between the wet outdoors and burning dry heat of the castle had caused the skin to redden and crack in a far more painful manner. They stung when exposed to moisture and every time you attempted to smooth creams over them, you’d end up wishing you hadn’t.

Not built for the North, you’d utter to whoever was closest to you.

Sansa had spent much of her time reminding you that no one was truly equipped for the winter. You pushed yourself up from your seat, stretching your tired limbs and making your way to your husband’s side of the chambers. He’d hardly slept these past few weeks. His space was a reflection of the fact. Papers scattered everywhere, quills broken on the floor.

As you entered his space, Robb glanced up from his desk. Dark circles had taken residence under his eyes, his beard longer than you’d ever seen it. You smiled softly and stopped only when you came to stand behind him.

“My love, you need to sleep.”

He sighed as you placed your hands on his shoulders, thumbs digging into the skin of his back. Fingers met resistance in the form of tense muscle. You shook your head and leaned forward, nuzzling your face into his neck. Soft words were muttered against his skin.

“You’re exhausted. Come, it’s hard to sleep without you by my side.”

He placed his quill down, half-heartedly ensuring that none of the ink spilled along the haphazard papers, and leaned into you. Weariness rolled off of him in waves, sinking into your bones like a sickness. One of his hands closed over yours, a warm weight over your freezing digits. He chuckled, motioning for you to let him stand up. Robb drew you to his side as he did. His arms wrapped around your shoulders and he sighed into your hair, nearly limp.

“I don’t suppose I could give the crown to Bran, could I?” You giggled, pulling away just enough to slowly guide him to your shared bed. It was far easier to be King when all you had to worry about was fighting a war. The politics and peacemaking had deemed itself a much more difficult beast.

Readying yourselves for bed was a well rehearsed event, layers quickly shed and folded by your bedside, stored close by for when it came time to awake in the morning. You slipped into the bed in your underthings just moments after Robb, basking in the soft comfort they offered.

“You’re rather happy.” You glanced over at Robb’s face as he spoke. Truthfully, you’d been happier as of late. Your duties were going smoothly, and you seemed to fit right in with the Northern ladies.

“I’m happy you’re here with me.” The words didn’t warrant the quick look at Robb’s chest, but it happened nonetheless. Raised scars littered his chest and abdomen, just as they did your torso. He sighed, drawing you near. He took your right hand in his, bringing it to his lips.

Velvety skin met rough flesh and Robb paused. You said nothing as he inspected the back of your hand; his blue eyes narrowed in on the raw, dry patches far more painful looking than they actually were.

“Why are your hands so dry?”

His words shouldn’t have caused such laughter, but the incredulous look on his face was enough for you to break out in a fit of it. His brow furrowed and you shook your head. A simple explanation fell from your lips.

“I’m not used to the cold.” Robb frowned. Laughter still lined the planes of your face, amusement sparkling in your eyes as he ran a finger over the nearly cracked skin of your knuckles.

“Surely something exists to prevent this sort of harm.” You shrugged, drawing nearer to him and resting your head on his warm shoulder. There were certainly a plethora of creams and ointments one could use to soothe irritated skin, though you had a habit of forgetting to apply them. In the end it always hurt worse to use them.

Robb sighed, letting go of your hands in favor of wrapping his arms around you. Tension melted away as you drew meaningless circles into his skin, drifting off to sleep as the fire in the hearth died down.

“Remind me to have Jeyne bring you some cream tomorrow morning, will you?” You mumbled an agreement, patting his chest and drifting off. A noncommittal response. Affection bloomed in his eyes before he closed them, following you into the realm of sleep.

[itsthesinbin]

Ooooh could you do a continuation or the likes for that one Ice King x Reader?

https://www.tumblr.com/itsthesinbin/728472237009780736/okay-but-how-do-ice-king-and-reader-meet-did

By the sounds of it the two knew each other before :>

i did a sort of continuation here, but i am MORE than glad to do more of this lil au. this got. a lot longer than i thought it would. but maybe they Did know each other. just a little.

Ice King (Adventure Time)

Dating the Ice King was... odd, to say the least. He was hard to be with at first. He was clingy. He was manic. He could be a little aggressive- not dangerous, just cranky- if you ended up ignoring him for too long; too long being subjective to his needs that day. He was unbelievably frustrating.

But at the same time... he was, strangely, the nicest guy you've ever dated. He'd get cranky, but once he saw you weren't leaving him he didn't push you. He was clingy, but it was because he was lonely. He was manic, but you knew it wasn't his fault. He brought you gifts ranging from flowers to gems to even making ice sculptures in your likeness. It was flattering.

He had made a little ice elevator to get you into the castle easier, when you visited. And by Glob he was always delighted to see you. Every time he heard the elevator chugging its' way up the mountain, you could hear him.

"Gunther they're coming- is there anything in my beard?" he'd ask, followed by a little "wenk". You'd come up just in time to see the little penguin pecking something out of his master's beard. Then Gunther would waddle over to you, making Ice King screech in surprise and try to rub whatever food was in his beard out. You bit back a snort as you picked up your favorite little guy.

"You look fine, IK, calm down," you laughed. He grumbled, flustered and fixing his crown. You grinned as you set the penguin down. You gave him a hug in greeting, and as always he was a little tense before returning it tightly.

"So, what'd you wanna show me?" He had asked you to come over cause he found something "wicked sweet". That seemed to click the lightbulb on.

"Oh yeah! C'mon, sweet thang," he laughed as he yoinked you up like you weight nothing. You yelled in surprise, holding onto him as he flew through the castle. You couldn't help but laugh as well, enjoying the short flight.

"This is my "the past" room- you are the ONLY person aside from Gunther I've let in here," he explained as he set you down. You looked around at all the old stuff in awe, recognizing a lot of it immediately from your time period. You heard him fiddle with some things as you picked through the items.

The old suit jacket he'd give you to wear when you were cold- which you immediately put on as per usual. Some old books- a few of which were written by a Simon.... Petrikov. That sounded familiar...

Then it clicked. You used to live just down the street from him. You used to attend the same book club together, before he stopped coming due to his research. You remember him showing off a book he had gotten published to the group before he stopped joining as often. You'd make him food and check in on him, when Betty couldn't.

"Where is that damn thing?" you heard Ice King mutter. You looked at the jacket you were wearing, turning the book over. A picture of Simon, wearing the exact same jacket.

While your boyfriend was busy, you sifted through the junk pile. Newspaper clippings covered in mad scrawling that spelled out pleas for help and forgiveness. Multiple pictures of Simon and letters written by him to various people. A picture of a young, but now familiar, girl with writing on the back. You stared at another newspaper clipping, a ball of ice in your stomach unrelated to the cold of the ice kingdom. Simon stood next to a sickeningly familiar crown that sat upon a cushion, smiling as wide as can be at his discovery.

A familiar jingle jolted you out of your thoughts and you dropped the article. You whipped around to see Ice King standing next to a cracked tv that was now playing Cheers. He waved his hands in a "tada" motion.

"I got a bunch of old junk from WAAAAY back in the day, so I thought you'd like a little marathon! I can go make popcorn," he offered with a grin. Your mouth hung open as your eyes darted from him to the old tv show. You tried to speak, but all that came out was a soft sobbing noise as realization set in. Immediately, his face fell.

"Oh- What, do you not like this show? I can, uh... I'm sure I got something-!" You cut him off by nearly tackling him in a hug. You held him so tight, knuckles turning white as you gripped the fabric of his robe. Your knees felt weak, giving out and making him drop to the floor with you.

"M... Man, if I knew you liked the show this much, I'd have done this sooner," he tried to joke, not really understanding why you were crying. Thankfully, he just held you and scooted around so you both could see the tv. Not that you really watched it, being too busy reeling from your newfound knowledge.

Gunther, sweet as can be, brought in popcorn and plopped his little self in your lap. You could use the extra comfort. You felt Ice King's hand run up and down your back, and new he was taking glances at you to see if you were alright. For his sake, you pretended to watch the show and forced down some popcorn. He seemed to relax a little, thinking you were fine. You were anything but. However...

What could you even do?

[syrma-sensei]

→ A Doe's Trap.

gif credit.

pairing: daemon targaryen x baratheon!reader.

rating: explicit.

word count: 3.9k

warning: daemon targaryen is a warning himself, usual westerosi agendas.

PART II: A GOLDEN LOCK.

masterlist | ao3

COURT IS INFINITELY BORING; the flashing red colour on the outside walls is merely a clever cover for the ennui of what's happening inside. And the Small Counsel is, Seven Hells, dreadfully, the most tedious place one can choose to spend time in. King Viserys, however, is persistent on having his younger brother in his counsel. His Grace has given his orders and nobody, not even the Rogue Prince, can refuse his liege's commands.

Nevertheless, even his royal duties and counsel obligations get habitually interrupted by certain cunts. After several replacements for his job —stirred by those cunts— the prince, eventually, takes the post of the Commander of the City Watch, and he isn't pleased one bit. The supposed city protectors are nothing but lost and lowly scum. But he knows better, that cunt of a Hand wants nothing but to offend the Prince and his potentials, such an elaborated attempt to irritate the hot-tempered prince; the current heir to the Iron Throne is nothing but a mongrels tamer. But if the bearded wanker thinks himself subtle, then he's terribly mistaken, thus, Daemon accepts the challenge. Because after all, if he truly wants to be King someday, conducting with the riff-raff is a good way to prepare himself for the role, rather than transacting with sickly old men who swagger through the glories of their ancestors and making none of their own.

Tonight though, to his bother, he has to take a break from his new duties, for King Viserys has blessed the court with yet another of his many festivities. Queen Aemma, his cousin and sister-in-law, is with child, again. The celebration is held in the Red Keep's grand yard under the full moon's glimmer. And to his surprise, Daemon finds himself rather enjoying himself in the fresh air.

His violet eyes are fixated on the table where the King and Queen are seated, two vacant chairs next to them. One is his, and the other is Rhaenyra's, his beloved niece. His gaze, however, is not, by any chance, drawn to the royal couple, rather, the ones who escort the Queen. That specific one, with the blue eyes and dark hair. The Baratheon Lady, his precious doe.

She stands next to her queen as one of her most trusted ladies-in-waiting. With a bright mind, and pure soul she has captured the hearts of most men, and the Prince is no exception. The niece of Lord Boremund Baratheon is sent by her lord uncle to represent their house at court in her aunt's stead, Lady Jocelyn Baratheon, Prince Aemon's widow. Once the Prince saw her, she stirred something familiar within him. Something he thought he'd not feel as he fucked his way through almost every whore of the Street of Silk. The place that provides him maidens whenever he desires to claim their innocence. What's better than a whore maiden but a paramount and maiden lady?

Virtuous isn't a word one can label Daemon Targaryen with. Rather, the Rogue Prince has an equivocal proclivity for those of virtue, of purity. He cannot brush off the image of that beautiful doe clinging to his shoulders and sobbing in delight beneath him, while he rams inside her virgin hole as he deflowers her. He fantasizes her calling his name as she willingly gives herself to him, as he fucks Mysaria in the recent days, and his high would be unmatched. The only thing can outdo it is having the doe herself in his bed.

The doe senses his heavy gaze, and her sapphires lock with his amethysts, and she tries to hide her sheepish smile. Gods be good, he can't decide wether he likes that smile of hers, or the cries she'd be making when he's inside of her. His predatory eyes follow her slender figure after she dips in courtsy for the King and Queen, excusing herself. He traces her golden gown, the one he'll have much pleasure ripping it off of her and see what she's treasuring beneath it.

“Good evening, Prince Daemon.” The doe bows to him, then he sees clear blue eyes looking straight into his, the plumping heart between his ribs skips for a moment, “Congratulations on your new office!”

“Why, thank you, Lady Baratheon.” His tone is solemn.

“Please do not call me as such,” The doe bites on her lower lip adorably, “We're much more familiar with one another.”

Ah, the red cheeks, they're definitely his favourite, and perhaps what's more delightful is making them grow redder.

“Much more familiar? Hmm.” Daemon teases, “Then why did you not come and congratulate me when I first got appointed as the Commander of the City Watch, my lady?”

Daemon's grin goes wider as his tiny trick makes her cheeks flush with dark crimson.

Tearing her face aside, she says under her breath hotly, “Gods,” Then her eyes are staring back at his face again, adding hastily, “I'm terribly sorry, my Prince! The instant I heard of the marvelous news I looked for you everywhere to do so, but...”

Her blue eyes dart everywhere but his face now. Daemon purses his lips into thin line, tugging a dark lock behind her ear. “But what, my lady?” His tone is bored, unamused, supposedly.

“Please, let me explain, Your Grace.” He nods, granting her her wish. “I did want to be the first to congratulate you. But when I couldn't find you anywhere, they told me you're making new arrangements for the City Watch; to ameliorate the state of the soldiers.” She adds breathlessly, and Daemon can clearly imagine her breathing heavily after he sends to her highest high. “So, I presumed you were occupied with much more important matters, and I couldn't bring myself to take from your valuable time.”

Oh, isn't she delightful? So sweet, so caring. Does he deserve such consideration? Of course not. Should he take it? An absolute yes. How not? And she's practically showering him with it.

Daemon twists his lips, grinning. “In that regard, I should forgive you, my lady. But on one condition.”

“Name it.” Her answer comes immediately.

Ah, he does like those moments when her Baratheon blood rises, when she shows signs of challenging and daring, and the confident feature she wears is truly pretty.

So, Daemon indulges her. “I want you to honour me with a dance, my lady.”

“A dance?” She arches a dark brow quizzically, shockingly.

“Does it not rise to the doe's expectations?” He teases her again.

And for the second time, it remarkably works. “Did I give such an insinuation to the dragon?” The way her brow switches from puzzled to intrepid puts the Prince under a charm. The irony, how effortless and unintentional her gestures are, but oh, the way she wraps him around her beautiful fingers. How bewitching she is.

“It is said that dancing is much similar to battling.” She adds, “I dare not stand against you in the second, but dare I say, I enjoy doing the first with you. It is a sliver of reminiscent of what fighting by your side might be like on the battlefield.”

It's Daemon's turn to raise an eyebrow. “You wish to dance with a dragon, little doe?”

“Yes, very much so.” She says it with utmost thrill.

“Even if it might get you burned?” He asks her, eyes glistening with something menacing, but the doe does not see it.

“He won't hurt me.” The certainty in her eyes makes Daemon's head whirl. Perhaps he isn't the only one under a charm.

“What you speak is true.” His smile is gentle this time, and what he speaks is also true. Lust did indeed blind him at first, and the desire to defile her has driven him mad for quite some time. But no, after getting to know this doe, his delicious prey, he cannot bring himself to hurt her. But has his craving for claiming her ceased within him? Not once. It's been like raging fire, huddling and jostling in his chest, and taking hold of his head. It's like a curse afflicted upon him. He's no patient man, and the gods have put him in a laborious test. But again, since when the gods are indulgent with man? But Daemon Targaryen is as unyielding as them as well. And he'll be so until the gods get bored of him and give him what he wants. Daemon, however, won't wait for gods to get lenient. He shall take it by himself.

They dance, the dragon and the doe. And the shy lady is back again as her face turn red as she is spinning between the Prince's arms, holding his hands. Their feet move in such harmony with the music, and they capture everyone's eyes. Her face is close, so close to his, and hers is as dark as blood. Her fresh breathing is on his face, and the dragon inside him goes feral. He wants her. Gods, He utterly and wholly wants her.

The music comes to a stop, and a cheered applause rages from around them. King Viserys is the strongest clapper, and the Queen shakes her head at her husband's excessive excitement.

The dancing comes to a pause, and the King raises a toast, and the feast for all is set. The guests eat, drink, and laugh. The King gets drunk soon enough, and the Queen becomes tired. Viserys keeps on drinking, while Aemma retires to her chambers to rest. The Prince is next to his brother and niece, thinking of the doe who's nibbling on her food ever so delicately.

It is a rare thig she is, to be born a Baratheon and have a tender character. It's known that the stags are of vigorous spirits and adventurous endeavour. But unlike her house and himself, she seems quite enjoying herself at King's Landing's court. That, however, does not nullify the hints of fury within her soul. She's a daughter of a stag after all, and stags have always attracted the eyes of dragons; his great-grandmother, Queen Dowager Alyssa Velaryon, married Rogar Baratheon, lord paramount of Storm's End, their wedding is known as the Golden Wedding. And Daemon's cousin, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, is half Baratheon herself from her mother's side, Lady Jocelyn Baratheon. Daemon still remembers how Caraxes was enthralled by his doe when they first introduced them to eachother; she has Valyrian blood after all. He smiles at the memory, she has the dragon and his rider enchanted.

“You're quite taken by her, uncle.” Daemon's ears prick at Rhaenyra's High Valyrian.

“Quite the woman she is.” He replies in their mother tongue.

“Indeed.” She nods. “She is quite taken by you as well.”

That piques his interest, his niece has all of his attention now. “Oh, really? How did you learn that, Princess?”

Rhaenyra chuckles. “Oh, uncle, you have no idea how much smitten she is with you.”

Trying to conceal the curiosity eating him up, he clears his throat. “How so?”

“You have a reputation, uncle.” Rhaenyra remarks, “But the lady refuses to believe it exists, claiming that she knows you better. She sees you as her knight in shining armour.”

A queer sensation clasps on the Prince's heart. And for a moment, he feels as if someone has kicked the air out of his lungs. He directs a wavering smile to his niece.

“How unfortunate.” Then he falls silent, and speaks very little for the rest of the night.

After an hour of feasting, the music replays, and a merry yet drunken enrapture sweep over the place. From his seat, Daemon looks for his doe and he finds her laughing at some stupid jest cracked by Ser whoever the fuck he is. When their eyes lock again, she smiles at him sweetly, but he doesn't return it. Instead, he stands up, and maneuvers his way through the drunken singing and wobbly dancing.

It was an ill decision to come here from the outset, but what choice he had when the King forces him to attend the banquet that's held in the next royal's honour. The one might brush him off from his current line to the throne. Daemon, sometimes, thinks that his brother taunts him deliberately, and perchance he's pulled by other hands.

He directs his indignation upon his royal brother as he threads his way to his private chambers; where he's going to drink himself till sleep, and maybe giving his cock a hand-fucking before falling asleep. Momentarily, he thinks of visiting Mysaria, but no. He needs some solitude away from everyone else.

Once in his chambers, he shrugs off his formal attire and slips into more comfortable clothing. Before he starts his drinking session, he hears soft knocks on the door; he grumbles. Perhaps the one behind the door wants to be the victim of his wrath tonight.

Striding down to the door, he opens it sharply. He freezes.

“Prince Daemon.”

Gods, how does she do it? Putting off that raging fire within him onto ice just like that. Mayhaps she is an enchantress after all.

“Lady (Y/N).” He responds.

“Is everything alright, my Prince?” The concern in her eyes tugs the strings of his heart.

“Yes.” For the first time, Daemon finds his lying unconvincing. Seven Hells.

“Then why did you leave the feast in such manner?” The doe inquires, brows knitted, “You made the King worry.”

Of course, she came here upon an order by his brother.

“You made me worry.”

Daemon regards her, then he retreats back to his chambers, leaving the door open. A private invitation for her to follow him inside which she obliges to.

“What caused you distress, my Prince?” The eager concern in her voice makes him melt. A strange mixture of sensations coil at the tip of his stomach. It is the first time she comes to his private chambers, and he feels as if he led her into a trap. The poor doe, she doesn't know she just entered the dragon's den, and in his current state, he has no guarantee of what he might do next. He is mad.

“You.” Daemon spins around and faces her, she stands a few steps away from him. “You cause me distress.”

Gasping, her dainty hand rises to her now heaving chest, and her blue eyes widen. “How could I ever do so?” Daemon takes a step towards her, and her eyes are focused on his figure. “My Prince, I implore you to—”

Seven Hells. His doe can be annoying when she becomes rather talkative, sometimes. And it is a perfect moment to silence her in the way he most desired; his lips on hers. And oh, they are much more delectable than he ever imagined, and he could've sworn he can sip wine from them.

The doe stands still, eyes as wide as saucers, as he claims her lips as if he is the thirstiest man alive. When realization casts upon her at last, she pushes him away. Daemon whips his mouth looking at her. She's horrified.

“Do forgive me.” Daemon looks at the floor, not bearing to gaze at her scared face. “But I've been wanting to do this for a long while.”

When she doesn't answer; he dares look up at her face again. A more questioning expression adorns her face instead of the terrified one moments ago. She doesn't flee, nevertheless. Which is a good sign, Daemon supposes. He narrows the gap between them, cautious steps as if he's afraid that the doe to run off.

“I desire you.” He confesses, “Gods, you're the one I lust for the most.” His hands reach for her reddened cheeks. “I want to have you. Let me have you... please.”

“How can I let you have me, and we're not wedded, Daemon?” He sees two thin strings of tears rolling down her cheeks. She tears her face aside. “Gods, they warned me about you.” She sobs, “They told me to steer clear of you, but I didn't listen.” A hand covers her mouth. “The Queen even promised my lord uncle to match me with another to prevent your dark reputation raising questions about my virtue.”

Any ounce of sense left in him until this very instance is blown away now. The Prince's hands latch onto her forearms, and he draws into a vicious kiss. He tastes the salt in her tears and he's fuming.

“You're mine.” He whispers against her mouth, “Mine. You belong to the dragon, and anyone dares to think of having you, they'll have to deal with fire and blood.”

“Daemon, please...” She cries. “I do not want it.”

The Prince cradles her face softly, his hot breath licking her face. “Tell me, what do you really want, little doe?” He brushes the tears away, “Tell me what you wish for and I shall grant it for you.”

His fragile doe gulps, looking at him with the eyes of a prey begging for mercy between its predator's jaws. “Do not allow us to be separated.” She weeps, and her heart feels heavy.

“No, no, little doe,” He says in whisper, “Not a single soul can separate us, my little doe. Give yourself to me. Let me corrupt you...” He inhales, he's almost begging, “Let me defile you, and they'll have no choice but to let us be.” He leans to her ear, adding, “Let me fill your belly with my child.”

“Do not let another have me, my dragon, please.” She clutches into his chest, beseechingly.

Daemon's violet eyes dart over her face, before he plunders her lips again. His hands adroitly baring her, layer by layer, until she stands naked before him. Through her blurred mind, the realization of her nakedness casts upon her. She gasps and tries covering herself.

Daemon, on the other hand, laughs, shaking his head with such amusement. “Do not shy away now, little doe.” He makes her lay down on his bed, removing her hands from the parts she attempts to hide. “Let me see your beauty.”

Daemon has to pin her hands on the either sides of her head to make submit to his request. He looks at her body, and she turns redder and hotter than Caraxes's fire.

He has to admit, she exceeds any fantasy he ever had. And now she's all his to claim. The Seven be fucked, this is the one who deserves worshiping, perhaps she is The Maiden herself, and mayhaps he can be her Warrior.

“Fuck.” Daemon hisses, “You're beyond anything I've ever imagined.”

“Daemon...” Her voice is breathless, “I-I feel queer things in my stomach.”

The Prince laughs again, kissing her temple. “They are good things, my lady, worry not.”

She nods, unsure of what might happen next. Daemon isn't going to disappoint her. Although the strain in his loins is unbearable, he takes his time to spread what he dares to call... affections upon her. His rough-padded fingers massage her shoulders, his lips lavish her erected nipples, and his mouth leaves no spot of her soft skin neglected.

When his fingers reach her core to fondle, she asks him about the moistened sensation. He shushes her, and tells her it's normal and a good sign. He brushes her clit and her moans become uncontrollable, he enters a digit and she screams.

Daemon laughs and grins as she's innocently grinding against his fingers, chasing something building inside her belly, she tells him. He adds another, then another, and her virgin drawers can take no more and flutter around his fingers with a sigh of his name leaving her mouth.

“Is this why people lay with eachother, my Prince?” She asks when recovers from her high, sweat glistening on her forehead, “Even when they don't want to have children.”

Daemon chuckles amusedly. “People fuck for many reasons, little doe. Pure pleasure is what, sometimes, one only seeks.”

“The Seven forgive me,” She says in something akin to shame, “But I want you to fuck me, Daemon.”

The words, coming off her tongue so effortlessly, make the blood travel straight to his cock.

“It might hurt you, though.” He warns.

“No,” She raises her chin stubbornly, “You won't hurt me.”

Before he gets off the bed, he kisses her. Then, he starts to take off his cotton tunic. He glimpses at her, and he finds her tracing his moves, intrigued. She gulps when he slips his dark trousers off, her pure eyes witnessing a man's cock for the first time in her life.

He chuckles, and cannot let the chance slide without a tease. “You like my small dragon, little doe?”

“I wouldn't call it small, my Prince.”

The latter throws his head backwards as a loud laughter bursts out of his chest. “Yes.” He lands a knee on the bed, dipping further to her face, bringing her hand to touch him. She looks up at him then down at his cock, as her hand faintly brushes the dripping tip. She shivers and he grins. His hand never letting hers crawl away. She gathers some courage when she sees him delighted, and her fingers curl around his cock, squeezing gently as he twitches. Daemon grunts deeply as her inexperienced hand caresses the bulging veins of it, and he feels himself coming. With a groan, he removes her hand away. He didn't want to scare her off with loads of white strings slamming her stomach and face. Rather, he wants it deep inside of her. “Open your legs for me.”

She does so, but uncertainly. He positions himself between his legs, wrapping her legs around his sculpted waist. Inevitable tears pour from her eyes as he thrusts himself into her, and Seven Hells, her virgin cunt feels heavenly. How her walls suck him up greedily even though he's yet to move.

With a hoarse voice, the doe whispers his name over and over, as he takes her slowly while his hair is ghostly brushing her arms around his neck. She cries and begs, and he kisses and reassures her that he'll give her what she wants. She tells him it's building again, and he hits that innocent spot of hers again and again until the fluttering he felt around his fingers is now happening around his cock. He's already at his limits and his seed fills her waving cunt.

“Well done, little doe, well done.” Daemon eases her quivering body.

When he pulls out of her, the Prince is utterly surprised when the doe flips their positions, as she straddles him instead. Their liquids are oozing from between her legs onto his muscled stomach. Shock is blatant on his face as she bites on her lip unsurely.

“What is this, little doe?” He teases, “I supposed this was your first.”

She lolls her head down timidly. “I've always wanted to do this with you, everyday when I look at that painting in the Queen's chambers.”

Daemon is well aware of what picture his doe is referring to. That salacious portrait Queen Aemma has received as a gift from Lys. It's called: The Seven Arts of Love. Perhaps his sister-in-law has kept it as a mockery of the belief of the Seven. He'll never know, or perhaps the Seven made her keep it, so his doe would witness it and mock him with her straddling him on their first night. The notion stirs him to the bone, and his cock is painfully hard now.

“Perhaps another time.” He cups her breasts softly. “This position is not meant for the first time.”

A surprised yelp escapes her mouth as he flips her again beneath him, clicking his tongue. “If you want to ride a dragon, little doe, you have to tame him first.” He leans down, his silver hair dangling over his shoulders, “And believe me, it is not as simple as you might think.”

“We shall see, my dragon, we shall see...”

[sunrise-imagines]

can you do Simon Petrikov being a grandpa? Like the reader is the child of Bubblegum and Marceline

Idk Simon and Cake messing with the babies in that one word made me cry

Let Simon be a grandpa

Awww this is so cute! Thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy!

Platonic!Simon Petrikov x Grandchild!Reader (+Bubbline x Child!Reader)

• When Simon found out Marcy and Bonnie were adopting a human baby, he was absolutely overjoyed.

• He was sadly never able to start a family of his own with Betty, so he never saw having grandchildren as a possibility until now.

• The day you were born, all of their friends and family were gathered in the waiting room. Marceline was especially nervous, she had little to no experience with babies and she worried whether she could be a good mom. Simon squeezed her hand in his, reassuring her that there’s nothing she couldn’t do.

• After what felt like an eternity, a MinervaBot finally brought you out, and everyone’s attention was directed towards you as she handed you over to Bonnie, congratulating them on their new child.

• Simon’s hands shook as Marceline beckoned him to come over and hold you, gently taking you in his arms as if you were made of glass.

• From that day on, Simon made a promise that he would always look out for you, swearing he would never leave like he had to with Marcy.

• As you grew up, Simon was a constant figure in your life.

• He helped you with your homework whenever you were having trouble, although when it comes to math he is equally as clueless.

• If you ever get picked on or bullied at school, him and Marcy are ready to march over there and beat the kid up. Bonnie has to calm them down and convince them that it’s not okay for them to beat up a child (although she certainly wants to as well).

• Simon would love it if you started to show interest in learning about archeology, he’ll teach you everything he knows about ancient artifacts.

• You beg him to take you along on an expedition, and while at first he’s pretty hesitant with how dangerous Ooo can be, Bonnie agrees to accompany both of you to make sure everything goes perfectly.

• Simon tries to tell her she doesn’t need to pack 6 different ray guns, but she won’t hear it.

• If you ever made him a drawing or some sort of craft he will cherish it for the rest of time.

• He has a shelf dedicated to displaying everything you’ve made for him, and he keeps it all in immaculate condition.

• When you enter your teenage years and start to date, Simon is very protective of you.

• Any partner you bring home will be subjected to immense judgement by him, Bonnie and Marcy.

• More than anything, he wants you to live a full and happy life, and he will do everything in his power to make that happen.

[1-beansss-1]

Dealing with loss..

Simon Petrikov x reader

Background - You used to date the Ice King and you're now dealing with the fact that he's gone and had been replaced with the man he used to be, before the crown, before you..

Warnings - mentions of Suicide, SH, Depression, ED, and Alcohol

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

You were just walking around in Ooo when someone picked you up and flew away. You didn't have any plans so you figured you'd go with it.

"What? Who are you?"

"I'm The Ice King, you're a princess right? You sure look like one!"

You blushed a bit.

"No.. not technically.. but that's really sweet!"

"Woah.. you're not trying to get away? Normally princesses try to leave.."

He pulled you closer to him.

"What's your name?"

He looked down at you.

"Oh its Y/N! And yours is Ice King right? Hmm can I call you Icy? It's easier to remember.."

You smiled and looked up at him, you could feel his beard on your face, it was soft. You giggled a bit as it tickled your face, Ice King laughed with you.

"Yeah! Call me whatever.."

You both got to his castle, he landed and zapped ice cuffs on your hands.

"This is a little unnecessary but ok.."

You shrugged, Ice King smiled at you.

"I don't want you to leave, princess"

He said as he pushed you into his ice cage.

"I don't have any plans for today.. but I probably should go home for the night.."

"Wait, you... you want to stay?"

He said tilting his head.

"Why not?"

You woke up and sighed. It hurt to have those dreams, those memories. You missed him, but he would never come back. Ice king had already turned back into Simon Petrikov. You sat up in your bed, groaning slightly. Your phone rang and you looked at who was calling, it was, him, Simon. You put your hands on your head and pulled you legs close to your chest.

"I can't, I can't not him"

You began to sob as your phone rang, crying so much you fell asleep.

You woke up in the Ice King's castle.

"What.. what am I doing here..?"

You saw him laying next to you and you hugged him tightly.

"Princess.."

He mumbled in his sleep. You started to cry. You buried your face in his beard.

"Hey, what's wrong princess?"

"I miss you.. I miss you so much.."

You woke up and shot up in the bed, gripping your chest. You were breathing heavily and tears were streaming down your face.

"Not again..."

You sighed as you wiped your face of tears. You got up and got dressed. You walked to your door, leaving your house. You looked over at the remans of the ice kingdom, your house was sat right next to it. It made you upset that you knew he wasn't in there, a part of you pretended he was still there.

You looked down and sighed, putting your arms around yourself to comfort yourself, but it didn't really work. You walked to the candy tavern and sat at the bar, ordering a drink.

"Everything alright? You've been coming here everyday recently.."

Dirtbeer guy asked as he poured you a drink.

"Yeah.. Everything's great.."

You forced a smile and grabbed your drink, downing it quickly.

"Give me another.."

Dirtbeer guy poored you another and you drank it quickly, you wanted to get drunk, really, really drunk, so you could forget.

You put your head on the table, you felt tipsy but it wasn't enough, you could still have coherent thoughts.

"A..nother.."

You put your hand on the table and grabbed at the air. A drink slid into your hand. You drank it quickly and asked for another. You lost track of how much you drank, every time you're glass got empty another replaced it.

You heard someone sit down next to you and they put a hand on your back.

"Y/N? Are you alright?"

You smiled when you heard a familiar voice. You slowly lifted your head and squinted at the person, there were tears already forming in your eyes.

"I-Icy?"

You grabbed his face and pulled him close to you.

"I'm.. I'm not.."

Simon put his hands on yours, trying to pull you off of him. He felt uncomfortable with you calling him that.

"you shaved? miss y-your beard.."

He tried to pull away from you but your grip got tighter.

"Let go.."

"glasses? Trying something new, icy?"

You smiled and pulled him into a hug.

"missed you sooo much...I..Icy"

You paused for a moment and started crying harder.

"Icy, I'm sorry.. I'm sorry... I couldn't help.. I know you were m-miserable but didn't I help? I'm.. I'm sorry I wasn't enough.."

You held him tighter. Simon let out a sigh and patted your back, he figured he'd act like this if he was in the same situation so he just let you cry into him.

"Oh Icy! I'm sorry.. I'm so..sorry..sorry..I'm s..orry"

You said before passing out, your grip on him loosened. He tried to sit you up straight but when he did that you fell over on the bar.

"How much have they drank? They're really drunk..."

Simon said with a sigh, looking over at you.

Dirtbeer guy shrugged.

"Alright.... I'll.. I'll take them home.."

Simon got up and put you over his shoulder. He was suprised at how light you were but he still struggled a bit when he carried you out of the bar. You started to drool and he shivered in disgust when he felt it going down his back.

"Oh that's.... my shirt...."

He mumbled and continued to walk. He took to his house and laid you down on the couch. He sighed and put a blanket over you. You grabbed his hand in your sleep.

"Icy.. don't leave me.."

You whined in your sleep. He sighed and sat down on the couch.

"I'm not.. I'm not the ice king anymore.. I'm not him.."

Simon looked at you, he knew what he said wouldn't be heard but he felt like saying it, he needed to say it. He stood up, prying your hand from his and went to his room.

In the morning you sat up and grabbed your head, you were hung over. You groaned in pain and opened your eyes, you were confused, not knowing were you were.

"Where...?"

You mumbled quietly to yourself.

"D-Do you need some water?"

Simon smiled at you, he was sitting at the end of the couch. You looked up at him and started to panic.

"You...you.. N-No...No"

You moved away from him, getting up off the couch.

"I can't.. I can't.. not with you.. no no no no"

You started to cry. You leaned forward, your grip on your head tightened and you backed away in a corner, you kept on repeating yourself.

"I-It's alright.. calm down.."

Simon stood up, putting his hand out towards you. You shook your head and ran into a wall behind you.

"NO, NO! I CAN'T I-"

You sunk to the floor, tucking your legs to your chest.

"I.. I can't.. you.."

Your voice broke and it was shakey, your body trembled. Simon moved closer towards you and sat on the floor.

"Calm down.. it's alright.."

You looked up at him, you looked angry.

"HOW IS THIS ALRIGHT? YOU Y.. you look so much like him it hurts..but you're not him.. you not.."

You put your face on your knees and started to cry harder. Simon felt uncomfortable being compared to him.

"You're not.."

He put a hand on your sholder.

"I know.. I know.. I've lost someone too.."

You started to laugh while you cried.

"Yeah but you don't have to worry about seeing someone who used to be her.. you don't have to worry about seeing someone who looks so much like her but so different.. you don't.."

Your voice broke.

"Oh Grod!"

You started to cry harder, you put a hand over your face.

"I-I can't.."

Simon sighed, a part of him still loved you, it hurt him to see you like this. He got closer to you and leaned on the wall behind him.

"You know.. I miss betty so much.. I would do anything to see her again.. she sacrificed herself for me so I could have a better life.. but.. I don't know if I can have a life without her"

You sniffed and looked over to him.

"..I..I met Betty.. she was nice..

"You did?"

Simon asked as he looked at you with a smile on his face. You stopped crying as much and wiped your face.

"Yeah.. Icy liked her too.. I guess that was you trying to come out.. I was sooo jealous.."

You wiped your face and smiled a bit at him as you reminisced about the past.

"Icy tried to reassure me that nothing was going on.. but I saw his eyes.. your eyes.. it was pure love.."

Simon looked over at you, he listened to your words carefully.

"Do you remember? Oh, she tried and tried to get you back.. she actually told me who you were before.... I was too selfish to put it together on my own.. I think a part of me knew but.."

You paused, looking away from him and let out a sigh, you weren't crying anymore but you still felt upset.

"It's just a blur.. can you remind me?"

You nodded and looked back over at him.

"Betty got the power of magic man's hat, she went kinda crazy.. actually she kidnapped me once, talking about how I should stay away from her simon.."

You chuckled a bit. Simon blushed, thinking of Betty saying that. He moved his glasses off of his face and dried his damp eyes.

"She told me everything.. and I tried to help.. I didn't want to lose Icy but I knew he... uh.. you were miserable... even with my help.."

You looked up at the ceiling, tears started to fall from your face again.

"Do you remember me at all?"

He put a hand on your sholder.

"I.. I remember that he loved you...I remember that you were running through his head all the time, calling you prin-."

"Don't say that.. please.."

You cut him off, even hearing that word hurt, but hearing him say that would hurt way worse. He nodded.

"Sorry.."

You both sat in silence for a moment the two of you had tears falling from your eyes. You glanced over at him and moved closer to him.

"S-Simon.. don't cry.."

You reached out to wipe his tears away. Tou smiled slightly, it reminded you of when you would comfort The Ice King. You moved away quickly when you thought that. He sighed not knowing what to say. You looked up at the clock, it was a bit late in the day. You let out a sigh, feeling like you overstayed your welcome and stood up abruptly.

"I should leave..."

You looked over at simon, he looked confused. He thought you were feeling a bit better.

"Um.. thank you for taking care of me while I was drunk.. and um.. sorry.."

You walked out quickly before he could say anything. You were fidgeting with your hands as you walked home. When you got home you threw yourself on the snow, the cold comforted you.

"I-It still hurts to see him..."

You grabbed a handful of snow and formed a ball.

"Icy.. I miss you.."

You looked at the snowball in your hand and sighed. You got up and let go of the snowball. You walked into your house, looking at the kitchen. You couldn't remember the last time you ate, you were to sad to eat. You shook your head and continued to look around.

"When did it get so messy?"

You sighed, putting a hand on your head and walked to your bedroom. You fell onto the bed, your legs were hanging off of it. You yawned and closed your eyes, falling asleep.

Next >>

[fragileheartbeats]

What we expected:

"My sister is the heir, not me," "What sort of brother steals his sister’s birthright?"

"Am I a king, or no?" "If I am king, then crown me."

"Thrones are won with swords, not quills. Spill blood, not ink."

R:"Dear brother, I had hoped you were dead." A:"After you. You are elder." R:"Do not think that you will hold us long. My leal lords will find me." A:"If they search the seven hells, mayhaps."

"Let the ravens fly that the realm may know the pretender is dead, and their true king is coming home to reclaim his father's throne"

What we got:

"I have no wish to rule. No taste for duty. I'm not suited."

"I will find a ship and sail away, never to be found."

"I want my mother."

"I did not ask for this. I've done everything you asked me to, and I try...I try so hard, but it will never be enough for you or father."

"Do you love me?"

[the-common-cowgirl]

It’s Only Forever, Not Long at All…

Chapter 1: Into the Labyrinth

Labyrinth AU Mini-Series. Each Chapter based on the chronological soundtrack of the cult classic film, Labyrinth (1986).

Goblin King!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Rating: Ch. 1 is General

Summary: Life at home is not fair, your only escape is your beloved fairytale novel, The Labyrinth. However, everything is about to change when you make a heat-of-the-moment mistake, causing you to strike an unfair deal with the one and only, Goblin King.

Warnings: teenage angst

Word Count: 2960

A/N: I know chapter 1 doesn’t delve too far from the original story, however, it’s pivotal for the remainder of the story so I kept it closely canon and will start separating in chapter 2.

Series Masterlist

Thunder rumbles distantly as you make your way across the park. The skies are gloomy overhead but you pay no attention. No, your mind isn’t stuck in the present. It dances to a realm where a handsome king holds you in his arms as you stare deeply into his eyes: in love. You clutch the fairytale novel, The Labyrinth, close to your home-made, hand sewn corset you made all by yourself after becoming infatuated with this book nearly four years ago. Now at eighteen, your childish obsession has somewhat taken over your life.

Your bedroom was covered in “Labyrinth” memorabilia. You had learned to sew garments that fit the fantasy world you pictured in your mind, creating an extensive array of different pieces. Your step-mother had a music box crafted for your sixteenth birthday, as a way of trying to grow closer to you. It was a miniature version of yourself in a big, white, puffy fantasy wedding gown and hair done up in pearls and beads in an intricate way. You loved that version of you in that music box so much that you had set out to remake the gown, it had taken two years but it was nearly finished and you couldn’t wait to put it on.

Your stepmother’s attempt at becoming friendly with you had worked, until it didn't. She had merely suggested one night recently that you should pursue a degree in fashion after you graduated since you loved sewing garments so much. The suggestion infuriated you, for she had been so close to understanding what fueled your passion for creating things, yet so far. You only created and learned to sew because of your love of reading, specifically your love of this book. How could she be so blind to not see that? That night a verbal fight had ensued between your step-mother, father and yourself. A fight so bad, your step-mother picked up your baby sister, you baby half-sister, and left the room.

The residual feelings of unease still lingered in the home, weeks after the fight. Which led to now, in the park, you reciting the main character’s words to the Goblin King and the air around you as a way to escape your home-life and reality, if only for a short while.

“Give me the child. Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City to take back the child that you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is great,” your mind trails off as you try to remember the next line.

“Ugh,” you groan and hit the book in your hand to your head, maybe a little too hard as it stings slightly “ I can never remember that line!” It’s true, you couldn’t, but you were also in the middle of trying to memorize the entire book so you should’ve given yourself more grace. You open the book to the page and passage in which you are trying to recite. Reading the words on the page aloud to yourself, “You have no power over me.”

As suddenly as you read the line, a large, snowy white owl swoops overhead, capturing your attention to the sky and a single raindrop falls onto your cheek as you head is cast upward to the rapidly darkening sky.

Which reminds you that you probably need to be back home by now. Your father had asked you to babysit your sister so he and your step-mother could go to a local fundraising gala and socialize the night away. The rain starts to come down harder now and you make your way back toward your home, running over the park’s bridge, right by the gazebo. Then when you reach the street, the clouds let loose and the downpour begins. You’re showered with water as you spring down the street, across a neighbor’s backyard and when you finally reach the back porch of your home that you found refuge from the wet in, you realize that not only are your garment’s soaked, so is your favorite book.

Grumbling angrily to yourself as you step into the house, past the kitchen and dining room and into the receiving room as you head up the stairs. Your self pity is stopped abruptly in your tracks as your stepmother calls from the bottom of the stairs, appearing from thin air.

“You’re late,” she called and you turned around halfway up the steps, “and you’re drenched!” She shrieks and turns to your father who is just out of sight, “Paul! Please explain to your daughter about punctuality and being presentable!” Her hair is in an updo as she puts on her earring. Her dress is a beautiful pale, satin pink; she’s the epitome of punctual and presentable.

Your father appears from the other room, “Y/N, you were not supposed to leave the house without our permission. Do you not remember that you're grounded?” His voice is stern but softer than your step-mother’s.

“I’m eighteen dad, you can’t ground me!” You stomp, childishly on the stair you’re standing on above them, water droplets falling with your action.

Your father brings up his pointer finger in warning, “As long as you live under my roof, I can still ground you. Now,” he raises his finger and points above you to the second floor, “Please take good care of Sarah tonight.”

“She’s already down for the night,” your step-mother adds as your father walks into the other room, “But if she wakes, just-”

“I know, I know,” you cut her off, “rock her to sleep and sing her her favorite songs and while I’m at it, why don’t I just give her my favorite things?” You raise your arms in a dramatic shrug.

Your step-mother sighs and grabs the baluster of the staircase, “Y/N, please do not disrespect me,” she says with a soft-sternness too familiar to you from her mouth; a plea. “I’m trying Y/N, but you’re making it,” you roll your eyes and start to walk further up the stairs, “so hard!” Her last two words are yelled to you as you go to your room, slam the door, and fall face-first onto your bed trying to drown out her yelling from downstairs.

They make you angry, both of them. They didn’t understand you or your interests. But, your father at least had the good sense not to bug you about what he didn’t understand; she didn’t. She’d constantly ask you about the book, about your projects, about the different characters, all to only ask once more, as if she didn’t store away information so important to you in her mind. You’d assumed if she truly wanted to know you, she’d make an effort. The nicest thing she had done was getting you that music box but even then, she made it more about your hobby of sewing than your passion for the fantasy element.

After some time, you heard the front door slam and that seemed to wake Sarah. You took a deep sigh, internally cursing them for waking your sister, half-sister. Pulling yourself from the bed, you made your way across the hall in the direction of the screaming to your father and step-mother’s room where Sarah had been sleeping. As you opened the door, the screaming intensified and you covered your ears as you approached the crying toddler in her pink-striped pajamas. You picked the toddler up as she continued to scream, not soothed by your presence in the slightest. You bounced her trying to sing against her wails, pacing around the room hap-hazardly as Sarah’s screams only seemed to worsen. As you passed her cradle for the third time, you recognized a stuffed animal she had been sleeping with to soothe her; your stuffed animal toy. The one your mother had given you when you were a baby.

Of course they’d give Sarah your things, she was your replacement with your father’s new wife. She was their precious girl, you were just a product of his last marriage to them, an inconvenience. You thought bitterly about how your step-mother wanted you out of the house, away at university and out of her hair and then she could play “perfect” family with her perfect daughter and no more. Just the three of them, the way it was meant to be.

And in that moment, all your anger seemed to snap.

You raised Sarah up in the air, still screaming and recited the fateful words, the words no one should say, yet…you did.

“I can bear no longer!” Tears streamed down Sarah’s face, “I wish, I wish…Goblin King! Goblin King! Wherever you may be, take this child of mine far away from me!” The wind rattled against the windows, making your heart skip a beat, wondering if somehow this chant had in fact, worked. But when you looked outside, you had just realized the sky was dark and the sun had set. You turn your attention back to Sarah as she continues to scream. “Ugh, Sarah,” you were impatient but now more relaxed as you let off steam. Laying her down, still crying, you grabbed the stuffed animal from her crib as she reached for it and walked back to your room briskly, to where it belonged. As you made your way across the hall, back toward the room Sarah was in, you heard her screaming abruptly stop. Your hand lingered above the handle of the door, wary as to why Sarah had stopped crying.

Opening the door, you called out, “Sarah?” Looking at her crib, you could see movements beneath the blanket but you couldn’t see her face. As you neared the crib, it moved sporadically, not in the way Sarah would move if she had fallen asleep. “Sarah?” You reached for the blanket to pull it from her face to make certain she was alright but the blanket moved again and you heard mischievous laughing from beneath. Your heartbeat quickened as you snatched the blanket from the crib to reveal nothing; Sarah was not there.

Behind you, you heard shuffling along the floor, then laughing as you turned, seeing a figure go underneath the queen bed skirt. Bending down in search of Sarah, you lifted the bed skirt to see nothing. “Sarah?” Your heart beat was quickening as you looked for your baby sister. “Sarah, this is not funny.” Something touched your leg and you jumped, looking down to see nothing. Shuffling was heard across the room and laughing from three different places were heard. You looked all around you in a panic, shadowy figures that resembled cats were hiding and peeking out from all around the room. You screeched as the creatures slowly emerged.

Suddenly behind you, the windows burst open with a warm gust of air and you quickly turned to be flooded with the white feathers of an owl. Covering your face so to not get scratched you shouted in fear. Then, the air was gone, the noise was gone, it was still. Slowly lowering your arms from your face, you were met with a towering, silver haired figure in a long coat, tight pants, knee high boots and an eye-patch….staring at you with a mischievous glint in his remaining eye.

And you knew.

“You’re him aren't you? You’re the Goblin King!” You accused, stepping back in fright. “I want my sister back, please, if it’s all the same.”

The corners of his mouth quirked, “What’s said is said.” His stern voice held finality.

“But I didn’t mean it,” you pleaded.

His smile grew from your words, “Oh you didn’t?” Raising a single brow.

A creature, a goblin, ran from behind you, frightening you into another shriek, between your legs and behind the King who waved his hands in front of each other and procured a glass-looking ball from what seemed thin air, like a magic trick. “I’ve brought you,” the orb danced across his fingertips as he transferred it from one hand to the other, “a gift.”

You felt inclined to take a step toward him but refused that feeling, “What is it?”

“It’s a crystal, nothing more. But, if you turn it this way and look into it,” he turned the crystal closer toward you, “it will show you your dreams. But it is not a gift for an ordinary girl who takes care of a screaming baby.” He looked down to the crystal and his smile turned upside down as he looked up to you mischievously and threw the crystal at you, turning into a snake midair and landing on your chest. You screamed in terror as the snake fell to your feet and spun in tight circles, turning into a goblin and who laughed up at you.

When you raised your head to look at the king and you were suddenly in a new place, a realm of some sort, his realm. It was a dusty landscape and he stood above you, a warm wind blowing his silver locks across the tall black collar of his dust jacket. He raised a hand aside himself and procured an image of an ornate, golden grandfather clock whose hands spun sporadically. “You have twelve hours in which to solve the Labyrinth before your baby sister becomes one of us, forever.” He grinned devilishly, “At the center of the Labyrinth lies the Goblin City, and, my castle. You will find us there, waiting.” He pointed out beyond you.

You looked behind you to the massive maze in which you had to make it through in order to save your baby sister. At the center, far off in the distance, sitting atop a hill was a large castle: your destination.

“Turn back, turn back before it’s too late,” his voice rang behind you. As you turned you realized he had gotten closer, strangely close to you.

“I can’t,” you professed. “Don’t you know why I can't?”

He laughed deeply as he stepped backwards and began to disappear, “Such a pity.” His voice echoed around you, taunting you, encouraging you to fail.

You took a deep breath, stilling your mind and readied yourself for the task at hand. Turning, you set off and hurried down the hill to the tall, light dusty stone walls of the Labyrinth. Beginning your adventure into the world you had loved from pages for so long, that had now somehow, become your worst nightmare. You had to save your sister. You had to undo what you had caused. You had to solve the Labyrinth.

As you reached the towering walls you looked for an entrance into the maze and found there was none in sight, so you ran along the walls one way till you were nearly out of breath. Not seeing an end in sight, you turned and ran back the way you came and past that, until you were sorely out of breath. There was no entrance in sight, nothing but high stone walls that went on forever.

Feeling defeated and angry, you fell to the ground on your bottom, yelling, “It’s not fair!” Picking up a rock and throwing it to the wall without it to bounce back, rather, going through the wall. This puzzled you and you tilted your head.

“Life’s not fair,” a gravelly voice sounded behind you, causing you to startle. You saw a strange looking goblin walking about, spraying fairies and paying no mind to you.

“Hey! Don’t hurt them,” you reach out to scoop up an injured fairy that had been sprayed by this goblin. It looked at you with its little eyes and cute wings. You wondered why he had sprayed a thing so innocent and minding itself.

Then you felt a sharp sting in your hand and dropped the fairy, “Ow! It bit me!” Holding your hand to your mouth to stop the small pain.

“What did you expect a fairy to do?” He grogged and turned toward you as if we were dull.

“I don’t know…nice things like granting wishes?”

The goblin rolled his eyes, “Shows what you know, don’t it?” He returned to spraying the fairies but you had an idea.

Jumping up, “Hey, you live here don’t you? Why don’t you show me how to get into this place?” You put your hands on your hips with renewed hope.

The goblin and his sprayer turned, “Well, have you tried to get in?”

You furrowed your brow in confusion, “I’ve looked but there doesn't seem to be an entrance-”

“Just go through it,” he replied hastily, bored with your presence.

This puzzled you further. “Go through it?” You echoed and he merely nodded his head.

To get in you just walk in.” He spoke as if it were the plainest answer possible, the impossible.

Intrigued by his suggestion and oddly believing this goblin despite what help he offered to be very impossible, you decided to try it. So, you turned and walked to the stone wall with trepidation, hands raised. As you neared the wall, your hands slowly disappeared, then your arms, then you were on the other side of the wall, in the Labyrinth.

Elated, you returned back to the outside to thank this helpful goblin. “Wow, I just go through it!” He only rolled his eyes and returned to spraying the fairies. “Thank you, uh,” you hadn’t gotten his name.

“Hoggle,” he offered while paying you minimal attention.

“Thank you, Hoggle!” Excited, you slipped back into the maze. Turning around, you looked at the high walls before you and exhaled a deep sigh. Into the Labyrinth you went in search of your sister, to right your wrong, to defeat the Goblin King.

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