#it's about finding hope in the little things and carving it out for yourself when you can't and becoming venerated AND it is about love.

[dropsnectar]

When The Dragon Saves You from the Prince

Dragon x gn!reader

NSFW

So it looks like this turned into something a little longer than a drabble. I was going to wait a week until my poll finished but got impatient. So! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

You knew as one of noble birth, the child of a Duke, that you would eventually be married off to the highest bidder. That's just how marriage was for the nobility. However, you hadn’t expected your loving parents to set up an engagement with an infamously rakish and daft prince. 

You hated the man. Whatever was supposed to be going on between his ears, was judged by that thing between his legs. When he had first met you, he had leveled with you that his reputation was true, and that expecting him to be faithful would be like asking water not to be wet.

Happy to have an excuse not to touch him, you basically ignored the man up until a week to the wedding. One afternoon his father the King had decided the two of you needed to look chummier, so he sent you off on a joint hunting trip with a few nobles. Of course, what you didn’t know was that these nobles were friends of his royal dumbass. 

They spent the whole time mocking your dukedom, and making salacious comments about your body and wedding night. Of course, your idiotic fiance only laughed at your expense, making comments of his own. 

To your own credit, you had handled their buffoonery with grace and wit. At one point, one of your barbed replies had actually struck a chord with one of the nobles, realization dawning on his face. He came off his horse and smacked you with all of his might. Too weak a man for a punch, he had gotten a solid hit on you, and you felt your eye heat and swell. Not good. The atmosphere had gone from snide joy, to predatory. 

The Prince himself got off his horse and stalked forward and pulled you by the hair down to the ground in front of his friends. They demanded to be repaid for the hurt done to them.

“I’m sure your pretty little mouth can be put to better use.” The Prince laughed, and he and his friends started to undress themselves.

That's when a loud, earsplitting screech hurtled through the air. A loud thumping and suddenly a large green dragon with large spikes started stampeding towards the group. He bucked aside the nobles, sending them and their horses running. Your fiance tried his best to pull up his pants, as you reached for his sword, but was unable to do either successfully. The dragon had stopped and stood tall before him, nostrils flaring. A pair of molten eyes stared him down, as if to challenge him. Of course, faced between defending you and running, he chose the latter. 

You couldn’t see the Dragon above you well, on account of the swelling in your eye and the hard pulsing headache that had started to vibrate through your head. The Dragon didn’t move, just stared at you as you blacked out.

***

When you came to you were warm. You opened your eyes to find yourself in a small room seemingly carved out of stone. There was a doorway with no door, that when you traveled through, brought you to a large cavern with high ceilings. You were surprised to find furniture, shelves filled with books, a large wooden desk filled with parchment and ink. 

“You are awake.”

You were startled to find yourself facing a being. He looked somewhat human, but the angles of his jaw, elbows and fingers were inhumanly sharp. His arms were covered in green scales, as well as his webbed ears, giving him away. When he spoke again you could see his sharp canines. He asked about the pain in your head. You admitted to feeling fine and he nodded. You had apparently gotten a concussion. 

The Dragon, who revealed his name to be Reix, explained that he had been exploring his new territory when he had felt evil and human pain radiating from where you had been staying. The land had recently been gifted to him by the king in exchange for his help in finding a cure for an elf and human disease that had run rampant for the last decade. He had taken it as his summer home, and was happy to find your health well.

You were surprised by his poised and friendly demeanor. You had heard that dragons were wild beasts, who occasionally took human form to steal treasure. You thanked him for his help, even if it was for not. You explained that the man had been the prince, and your fiance at that. You would not be able to escape him, even with your influence as a duke's child. 

“If you have nowhere to stay, you may stay here. It may not compare to an ornate palace, but I can assure you it will be better than what you would have to go home to.” 

Choose between a roaring evil monster and a kind, thoughtful being? Of course you were going with the dragon.

As the days went on you learned more about Reix, his character and his interest. He was the quiet studious type who prized his books over anything else. He even kept ancient first editions of many popular novels, some even with signatures. He also had some antique memorabilia, some keys from a printing press from his mothers favorite publishing company, a bookmark from a late saintess who he had befriended long ago. He showed you all his favorite books, nonfiction and fiction. You were even surprised to find that he enjoyed the occasional romance. 

“Why, Sir Dragon, are you perhaps a romantic?” You teased. He looked at you with pursed lips and a faint blush.

“I am not so cold that I can’t be moved by a good story. After all, most people experience it once or twice in their life. Love that is.”

The two of you had been fast friends, bonding over shared interests. You spent weeks, months like this. He would hunt or go out to town for your meals. He taught you how to cook. You were terrible at it at first, but he eventually learned to trust you to make omelets, and the famous everything soup. He was an incredible cook too, and he seemed to enjoy sharing recipes and meals with you. You couldn’t help but notice the occasional fond glances he’d send your way. 

You had to admit, you weren’t unaffected by his presence either. You noticed how strong the muscles of his arms were as he reached up to retrieve a book from the top shelf for you. His glowing hazel eyes always looked at you with respect and reverence. No one had ever looked at you like that before. And you had to admit you had never met a kinder person than him. You loved his smile,how his teeth tended to stick out as he spoke to you.

You were the one to make the first move. Reix had been sitting on the couch, reading in his usual way, when you cuddled right up next to him. You leaned your head against his shoulder and covered your lap and feet with a blanket, as if to nap. He was stiff at first but eventually relaxed into you. You started to do this at every opportunity and you would notice that he would now forgo his study chair for the couch. Neither of you ever said anything about it, but you two never missed an afternoon cuddle.

One day, Reix sat you down, his limbs twitchy and expression solemn. 

“I will be straight with you. My species goes through something called a heat a few times every year. Mine is nearing, so I will be traveling to my home up north for a week.” He bit his lip before continuing. “But do not worry, I will stock the pantry and make sure you are as comfortable as possible while I’m… gone.”

A heat? You had read enough smutty novels to know what that was. The thought made your heart beat hard in your chest and a warmness pool in your gut. Well. Right now was as good of a time as any.

“What if I wanted you to stay?” You enunciated slowly. Reix frowned at you.

“You do not understand, I will not be myself. I will be like an animal. I won't be able to control my instincts.” He stared at you with big watery eyes.

You walked towards his chair and knelt at his feet, taking his hands into yours. 

“I will take all of you, if you let me.” You then pulled his hands up to your cheeks, forcing him to cradle your face. The two of you held each other's gaze for a long time, the tension palpable. 

When he kissed you, it didn’t taste sweet, like his words always were. His breath was fire, after all. The two of you burned up together.

***

You were wretched out of sleep by the feeling of rubbing on your ass. Strong arms gripped your waist, and you felt his ragged breath in your ear, moans sputtered from his lips, whispers of,”I’m sorry.” More groaning, “You feel so good…ahh!” And he came all over your nightgown. 

But this didn’t seem to sate him at all, as he continued to rub himself into the curve of your asscheeks, slick of him coating you and dripping down to your entrance. He seemed to realize you were awake because his voice increased in volume.

“Please. You promised…” He moaned out as he went from fucking your ass to plunging himself in between the plush of your thighs. The change in texture seemed to get him going as his speed started to increase. Much to his annoyance you turned around. He hated having to go even a second without his dick touching you, and you pulled him into a hot passionate kiss.

His mouth devoured you hungrily, arms now roaming the lines of your body. His eyes were glazed over in lust as he reached his head down to suck on your nipples, trying to get you sufficiently worked up. When he was close again, he brought dick up to your entrance, pushing in just the tip as he came. His hot cum slid into you, prepping you for what was to come next. You clenched around nothing, and started grinding on his dick, needing to take more of his length. 

He took you in one harsh thrust. You hadn’t seen what he had looked like before, but you could tell that his dic must have been an unusual shape. The ridges of his dick dragged deliciously against your walls, making you drool. He was so big it was a painful stretch. But you were nobility, and nobility took the long and hard things in life and made it work for them.

You reached your hand down and felt the part of him that wasn’t inside you and slowly started pumping, enjoying the soft, yet firm texture of him. He slowed his thrusting, suddenly overcome by how you were making him feel. The duality of your hands on him and being inside you made him want to scream out. His good little noble felt divine. He was having a spiritual awakening right there in your bedroom, as he got closer and closer to release. 

Eventually you had gotten used to the feeling of him and started rocking your hips in time with his strokes. The delectable friction he was giving you was building up inside you, a hot fiery pit about to explode. Your Reix’s gaze was full of devotion and need, but the way one of his gently came up to cup your cheeks made you burn. Even now, when he was ravaging you like the wild beast everyone assumed he was, he still treasured you.

You came hard around his girth, crying out as white hot pleasure pushed its way from your core to your fingertips. Reix soon followed after, unleashing another impossibly large load of his wetness within you. He slowed his minstrations and pulled out, going back to fucking your thighs until you were properly recovered enough to take him again. And take him you did, all through the night and the following day. 

When his heat had cooled, he brought you fruits, cheeses and bread, taking small bites and feeding it to you, as you were too exhausted to do so yourself. He seemed to take great joy in this as his normal small smile was blinding as he cared for you. He pulled you up and the two of you took a bath. He made sure to wipe you down first, every swipe of his rag gentle as he worshiped you with his glowing eyes. When he was done, he added more heat to the water and joined you, settling you down between his legs as he held your back to his chest.

You rested in silence for awhile, enjoying the warmth of the water and each others skin. 

“We should do something about that fiance of yours. Mind if I eat him?” He was playing with the damp curls of your hair, relishing in the texture. You smiled up at him.

“You don’t know where he's been. You could catch something. But I do have an idea. If you are up for it that is.” 

“For you, I would do anything.”

You smiled. Your father was next in line for the throne after the prince. Reix was a gentle giant most of the time, but you couldn’t help but think what a dashing and benevolent prince he would make.

[screamingcrows]

I am sadly not immune to all the talk of Veritas Ratio in a modern university setting... (Manu - I hope I can call you that - your posts are so sweet) pair that with the autumn mood and you get this;

tags: pure fluff, they're about to be dating your honor, modern university au

minors do not interact!

Veritas had been puzzled at first, while it wasn't exactly odd for you to be fidgeting with something during lectures, it was usually limited to a specific set of items: your water bottle, some form of pen (he had a spare of your preferred tucked away in his bag for the inevitable bad days where you'd had to leave your dorm in a hurry), or the keychain on your bag.

Whatever this new item to catch your attention was, your hand had practically been glued to the inside of your pocket for two weeks.

Conveniently hidden out of sight, forcing his hand.

He catches you at your usual autumn spot, at least it was last year, a fairly secluded bench sheltered from the elements by four old chestnut trees.

You jerk in surprise when he sits down next to you, and warmth blooms in his chest when you close the book in your hand and lightly smack the top of his head. Still, there's no real power behind it. Only one hand is holding the book after all.

"Your pocket," his gaze is momentarily drawn to a lone magpie rummaging through the first yellow leaves to bed the ground.

"My pocket?"

A sigh leaves his lips as you parrot his words, turning to look upon your face. Veritas thinks his heart might burst at the soft confusion etched into your features, so reminiscent of a delicately carved masterpiece and still containing so much that could never be conveyed through cold stone.

"Yes. You've been fiddling with something in your pocket for a few weeks. At first I assumed it was a loose thread, but it persisted through days regardless of your outfit," cool air caressed his cheeks as he breathed, carefully tuning his voice to your widening eyes, "naturally, I've grown curious as to the nature of that item."

Silence sweeps through the air, enough that Veritas can faintly hear the buzz of people closer to campus. What would normally be comfortable, has him shifting a bit. Too keenly aware of your downcast eyes, his hands find solace in adjusting his scarf.

It feels invasive when you pull your hand out, and he finds that perhaps this knowledge wasn't worth the price. But the words never make it from the tip of his tongue, not before you've opened your hand to reveal a single chestnut.

He blinks, the smooth brown reflecting what warm sunlight pierces the overhanging canopy.

You're already talking again, "-and I've just always grabbed one since that, it's just a silly tradition but I enjoy it and it's harmless and-"

"Would you tell me how, in detail?"

The way your shoulders slumped a little confirmed his theory, you'd been about to rile yourself up with nervous ramblings. Veritas turned towards you, leaning against the bench while you sought out words.

"The first thing you do is to gather the very first chestnut you lay eyes on," what else was there to do but oblige in the face of your expectant pause, "and then you whisper a wish to it."

Again, he obliges, wringing his nose at the faint scent of detritus that already clings to anything picked from the ground.

"Now you just, well you carry it with you, just like you carry a wish. And if the wish comes true, then you take it to a stream and throw it in after thanking it."

"And if it doesn't?"

Veritas notes with satisfaction how smooth the chestnut feels under his skin, and how pleased you look upon catching him shift it between fingers.

"Then you return it to the ground, bury it somewhere, and let it bloom when spring comes."

A charming sentiment, even if you kept waving your hands dismissively. There'd been no deeper meaning behind it, just a parent taking measures to keep little hands occupied.

It was sweet, the memories painting your eyes with colors he couldn't imagine never getting to see again. Time worked differently with you, it always did, and too soon did the evening air chill.

Several hours had passed, time that Veritas should have spent studying, had allocated in his schedule for completing at least two assignments. Yet he couldn't quite find it in himself to mourn.

"Here," he removed his scarf to bundle it around your neck, deft hands adjusting it to let you breathe, "you were shaking, maybe it's time to head inside?"

Something foreign drifted through your eyes and held him captive, leaning forward like this would make it so easy to-

Your lips were just as forgiving as your words, molding perfectly against his even in the brief moment before his mind caught up and he pulled back.

An apology was at the tip of his tongue, cheeks already heating up and mind thrown into a frenzy unrivaled by the most advanced calculations.

All thoughts of your friendship souring turned to dust when he saw you stand, throwing your chestnut as far towards the little lake nearby as you could.

Oh.

With a thundering heart, Veritas pocketed his own chestnut, unable to resist the urge to give it a little pat.

"Wait- you still have yours? Veritas what did you wish for?"

A laugh bubbled from his chest at your expression morphing from bliss to pure petulance, the sound sending flutters through his body, how rarely he could let go.

And always in your presence.

"Veritas! It's not funny, it would've been so romantic!"

He merely hummed, enjoying the fleeting heat of your skin as he brushed a lock of hair behind your ear, "perhaps I wished for something less fleeting."

[redrose10]

Hey, Could I, please, have a story with picture number 2? It'd be awesome if you could turn it into a time traveller story, but you don't have to. I fully trust your talent and skills.

On the other hand, I think it's awesome how you could turn having very bad anxiety and panic attacks into such a nice short story. I hope you're better now. I don't know if you wrote it for the sake of the story or if it's true for you too, but The Last and Snooze are my two favourite songs from Yoongi :) I really loved that part in the story where you wrote about Yoongi's indigestion problems, it made me laugh.

Take care and get well soon :)

They are great songs that help a lot!

I hope this is okay. It’s kind of time traveler-ish but probably not what you were expecting. It’s spooky season themed too.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Here is number 2 from the picture game!

Warnings: mentions of death, very slightly suggestive, angst

Disclaimer: Some things may not be correct for the time period. I tried my best.

“Spells, Potions, and Magic, Solutions for the Everyday Witch”, you rolled your eyes before tossing the heavy ornate book into a box. You always knew that your neighbor Ms. M as she was called was a little on the odd side but when her daughter offered you $200 to clean out her moms home after she passed away, as a broke college student you couldn’t say no.

It was simple. You could keep anything you wanted and everything else got chucked into a large dumpster that was sitting outside. There was also this book that apparently Ms.M had insisted you have even though you thought it was a little weird. Other than the book you kept a few pots and pans, a couple vintage sweaters, and what looked like a handmaid quilt. You had a box of stuff you thought that maybe you could sell for a little extra cash too.

You felt bad just throwing away this woman’s entire life like she had never existed but that’s what you were paid to do.

After you were all finished you collected your payment and your items and headed back home to your place.

The box of stuff you were planning to sell consisted of mostly some jewelry, a very old vase, a Chanel purse you were praying was real, and the spell book. You knew the campus bookstore would definitely send some cash or at least store credit your way for that one and you did not want it taking up space in your already cramped home.

After making yourself some dinner your curiosity got the best of you and you started flipping through the pages of the book.

‘How to turn your enemy into a frog. A step by step guide.’, you rolled your eyes because how original?

‘Black cat following you around? Use this spell to reveal their true identity.’, okay maybe the cat is just hungry you laughed.

‘Death by chocolate cake’, you 100% expected to find just a normal recipe for chocolate cake which you did until the very last ingredient said a touch of arsenic and you realized they weren’t kidding about the death part.

Interestingly there was one page in particular that seemed to have been opened to more times than the others.

‘How to bring someone back from the twilight.’, useful I guess if someone accidentally ate your death by chocolate cake you chuckled.

You wondered if maybe Ms.M had spent much of her life trying to bring someone back from the dead, maybe a former lover. She was probably so grief stricken she was desperate and thought something as ridiculous as a spell could work. You felt bad for the woman and whomever it was that she thought she could bring back.

Putting the book aside you started going through some of the jewelry you took to see what was profitable. What looked to be a man’s ring caught your attention first. It was very intricate with a beautiful carving of what you thought was a jaguar. The eyes appeared to be made out of diamonds or so you hoped because that would definitely up the value when you try to sell it.

You went through some of the other jewelry but for some reason that book kept pulling your attention back to it. You went back to the page with the spell about bringing someone back. As you fidgeted with the jaguar ring you began to read,

“When the moon reaches full peak and the skies are clear, read this verse, there is nothing to fear. Lost in the twilight, shall be no more. Once true loves companion, completes the lore.”, what the hell you laughed. You would have thought this was meant as a Halloween book for toddlers or something if it wasn’t for the recipe on how to murder someone with chocolate cake.

Having had enough you decided it was time for bed and you’d deal with the stuff after your classes tomorrow. You kept the ring with you wanting to make sure it was safe and went upstairs to finish your nightly routine.

When you woke up the next morning you stretched feeling a little sore from all the heavy lifting you did the day before. You reached over to turn off your alarm clock when you felt an arm wrap around your waist and pull you close. It took a second for you to realize what just happened and that someone was currently in your bed with you, but once it hit you, it hit you like a bus.

You jumped out of bed in one quick movement stumbling for your light switch. Once the room was illuminated you got a good look at who was in your bed.

A man, yes a full grown man was peacefully sleeping next to you and at one point had his arm wrapped around you.

You had experienced one night stands before. It wasn’t your favorite thing to do but you had needs too. Never though had you ever had a one night stand that you didn’t remember. And you didn’t even leave your house last night so how did this happen?

What made you even more curious was that this guy didn’t look like the typical guys you were used to seeing around town. His hair was dark black and wavy and long, one side gently tucked behind his ear. His skin care routine must’ve been top notch because he didn’t have a single blemish and judging by how pale he was he either rarely left his house or was strict about sun protection. His clothes are what threw you off the most. Most of the guys you were around wore tshirts, hoodies, jeans, sweats and things like that. Not this guy. He looked like he was straight out of an 1800’s men’s fashion magazine, if that thing existed back then. The worst part was that you caught yourself staring at him a little too long. He was breathtakingly beautiful and you were a little sad that you didn’t remember anything from your time with him because you definitely would’ve liked to.

And then you reminded yourself that he was some guy you didn’t know and you should probably wake him up so he could get the hell out of your house and you could go on with your day.

Gently you poked at his shoulder but with no reaction. So you poked a little harder. This time he swatted at your hand and pouted which only made him look more beautiful.

So then you poked him even harder, “Um excuse me.”

This time he groaned before opening his eyes to look at you. It took a second but then he screamed and jumped out of the bed making you scream and jump back towards the door.

“Who are you?”, he asked groggy and out of breath.

That hurt a little that he didn’t remember you even though you were in the same boat but you’d like to think you were unforgettable so how dare he?

“Y/N, who are you?”

“Min Yoongi.”

“Okay Yoongi well whatever we did last night is over so it’s time for you to get going. I have class to get to.”, you said motioning towards the door.

You must’ve hit snooze instead of off on your alarm because it started making that familiar annoying ringing again.

Yoongi quickly brought his hands to his face to shield himself and he slightly crouched down, “What is that thing? Is it going to explode?”

You looked at him confused. “I wish. It’s just the alarm clock on my phone.”, you said showing him that you were turning it off.

He stood back up and smoothly moved his hair back behind his ear.

“Mmhm, where is the lavatory?”, he asked suddenly.

“I’m sorry what?”

“The lavatory, latrine…the toilet?”

“Ohh down the hall and first door on the left.”, you said pointing. He walked past you with a nod and you heard the door click shut.

“Jeeze, where did I find this guy?”, you asked yourself.

You took the time that he was in the bathroom to get dressed and went downstairs thankful that you had a second bathroom so you could finish getting ready there. Once you were done you went into the kitchen and got your coffee going and poured yourself a bowl of cereal, too tired to really cook anything. You took the book and the rest of the stuff from the night before and tossed it in the box so that it was out of the way.

After a few minutes Yoongi walked into the kitchen. You were kind of annoyed that he didn’t get the hint to leave but you still wanted to be polite because that was who you were, “Would you like some coffee?”

He nodded so you poured him a cup, “I have pumpkin spice or caramel macchiato flavored creamers.”

He looked at you with a straight face, “Pumpkins aren’t spicy.”

“Okay black it is.”, you whispered handing him the mug.

“Would you like some cereal?”, you asked.

Thankfully he shook his head because you had no idea how you would explain why your breakfast cereal had different colored marshmallows in it, something you just knew he would question.

You ate in awkward silence hoping he would eventually just get up and leave after realizing you weren’t interested.

Your phone which had been sitting on the counter charging dinged with a notification making Yoongi flinch back. “Why does that thing keep making noises?”, he asked still shaken.

“Well it’s a phone. That’s what they do.”, you said starting to get annoyed.

“Well back in my day there was only one phone for the whole city and it was attached to a wall at the courthouse and only made one sound.”, he said just as annoyed.

You took another bite of cereal unsure how to answer that but knowing that you needed to get this man out of your house and then reevaluate your life decisions.

“So uh did you need me to call you an Uber or something?”

“Uber?”

“Or Lyft or taxi or give you money for the bus?”, you said running out of options.

“Do you not have a horse and buggy to take me home in?”, he asked as if you were the odd one in this situation.

Slowly you shook your head, “Noooooo I’m sorry my buggy is currently in the shop and my horse is on vacation.”

You realized rather quickly that he did not appreciate the joke.

No longer having an appetite you started to collect your dishes when Yoongi grabbed your hand. He inspected it closely and that’s when you released you were still wearing the ring.

“How did you get that? That’s my ring.”, he asked.

“Umm it was in my neighbors stuff that I helped clear out yesterday.”

“Your neighbor? Where is she? I must see her.”

You were taken back a little by his outburst.

“Well she died about a month ago so I don’t really know how I can do that.”

Yoongi scoffed, “Good, I hope she’s burning in hell where she belongs that evil shrew.”

You raised an eyebrow not having heard anyone use that word outside of movies.

“How did it happen? Was she hung from the gallows? Slowly and painfully from Cholera?”, he asked a little too excited.

“Ummm she was like 100 million years old so I’m guessing that had something to do with it.”

“What year is it?”, he asked suddenly?

“2024”

“About 221.”, he stated matter of factly.

“I’m sorry?”

“She…your neighbor…Lenora…She was born in 1803 so she would be 221 years old.”

“And you know this how?”

“She’s my little sister.”

“Oookkkaayy”, you said, “Why is it always the hottest ones that are the craziest?”

“I am neither hot nor crazy. It’s quite chilly actually.” Yoongi said after overhearing you.

“No hot means like attractive, sexy, good looking.”, you said before feeling your cheeks heat up at the realization. Thankfully it seemed like he didn’t really understand anyways so you moved on.

“Sooo I’m gonna call someone to come give you a ride.”, you said reaching for your phone.

“A ride…with a horse?”

You smiled, “Uh no in a car with flashing lights that plays a song as it’s driving so people know to get out of the way.”

He looked impressed and nodded his head in acceptance.

“There it is!! I knew that evil witch had it this whole time.”, he suddenly gasped making you jump forgetting about the call you were trying to make.

Yoongi reached over taking the spell book that you had thrown in the box.

“I was looking for this. I knew she had it but she refused to give it back. She probably knew I’d become even stronger with it in my possession.”

“Stronger?”

He nodded, “Yes and then I’d become The Supreme.”

“The Supreme?”

He sighed, “The Supreme Witch. We’re witches. Do they teach nothing at school any more?”

“Sorry I haven’t taken Witches 101 yet. I’ll see if they offer it next semester.”

He shook his head, “Don’t bother. I’ll teach you.”

You sighed but took a seat anyways.

“You see every two hundred years a new supreme is appointed to each coven. A selection of witches go through seven different tests to gage their strengths and weaknesses. My sister and I were in the finale up against each other tied three to three. She knew there was no way she could beat me in the finale test on her own. So somehow she disabled my protector spell while I was sleeping and she used a curse to send me to the twilight. I’ve been stuck there ever since…until you got me out somehow. Are you a witch by the way? What family do you belong to?”

You chuckled, “Yeah definitely not a witch. All I did was read something from that book. It was a page that seemed to be used a lot. Maybe your sister was trying to get you back.” He started flipping though the pages of the book when a photo fell out. It was black and white and low quality but you could still make it out. Yoongi stood smiling next to a woman you figured to be his sister and former neighbor. You could definitely see the resemblance of your former elderly neighbor in the young smiling woman’s face. Yoongi looked exactly the same just with a big gummy smile that made your heart race.

He smirked as he looked over the photo, “Doubt it. We’ve always hated each other.”

He read something on the back that you couldn’t see before tucking the photo in the book.

“Can you take me to the city? I need to speak with someone.”, he suddenly asked.

You checked the time and figured since you were already late for class and probably dead for all you knew at this point, you agreed.

“Sure but first we need to get you to change your clothes.”

Yoongi looked offended, “What’s wrong with my clothes? These are very expensive and in high fashion.”

“Maybe in the 1800s but right now you look ridiculous.”, you chuckled.

Thankfully you had a stash of your brothers clothes that he always forgot whenever he visited you and they might just fit your new friend.

When he finally came downstairs your mouth unapologetically dropped open. You thought he looked good before but this was on a whole other level. The jeans fit perfectly. The tshirt a tinsy tiny bit too tight in the arms and chest area but no one would complain. The Jordans that you knew your brother would kill you if he saw you letting anyone else wear looked like they were made just for Yoongi. He had put his hair in a half up half down situation and you were wondering where he got the hair tie from but you didn’t care because you were ready to buy them in bulk for him anyways.

“NOW I look ridiculous. This is how men dress these days?”, he said feeling insecure with you staring at him.

“You know if we stop at the seamstress I’ll have her patch your brothers pants. Poor guy can’t even afford to fix the holes.”, he continued.

“It’s done on purpose. They’re supposed to look like that.”, you laughed

This time it was Yoongi’s mouth that dropped open, “Wait so he actually pays money to buy pants that already have holes in them?”

You nodded and laughed, “Yeah a lot of money too.”

He shook his head in disbelief.

In the car you showed him how to use the seatbelt and once he was comfortable you started the engine.

“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday

Seven days a week

Every hour, every minute, every second

You know, night after night

I'll be lovin' you right, seven days a week”, blasted through the speakers reminded you that you were definitely not the same person you were last night so you turned the volume way down.

“Ugh what is that racket?”, Yoongi questioned with his hands over his ears.

“That’s Jungkook. He’s like one of the most popular musicians right now.”

“This is considered music now?!”

“Yeah it is.”, you laughed showing him a photo of Jungkook on your phone.

“He’s adorable.”, Yoongi cooed, “And HE’S the one that sings such a stupid song about days of the week?”

“Well the song is not really about days of the week”.

Yoongi stared waiting for you to continue, “It’s about…it’s about sex.”

His eyes went wide. “And they let that be played to the public?”, he hissed almost more embarrassed than you.

“Yeah this song is pretty mild compared to others.”, you chuckled.

You offered to drive in silence but Yoongi insisted on listening to more of this Jungkook fellows music which you happily obliged.

“Where exactly are we headed? I kind of need to know where to drive.”, you asked.

“Well it’s a book store. It’s right next to the horse stable and across from the general store.”

“Okay well uh I’ll start driving and you tell me if anything looks familiar.”

Yoongi was amazed by all of the new technology. Traffic lights, billboards, hundreds of cars passing by.

“Wait wait wait…So we don’t even have to get out of the car? They just hand us the drink through that little window?”, he asked after you had stopped to use a drive thru for a snack.

You smiled as you watched his eyes light up when he sipped on a pumpkin spice latte completely forgetting about his disdain about it earlier.

Eventually you somehow made it to the location he wanted which also happened to be the campus bookstore.

You followed Yoongi inside and watched as he walked right up to Jimin who was standing at the counter.

“Hi Y/N”, he smiled until he noticed Yoongi standing next to you, “Yo-Yoongi?”

“It’s been a while. How is Emmy?”, he asked.

“She’s good. We have two kids now, two little girls.”

Yoongi nodded, “I’m so glad to hear that. I’d love to meet them.”

“You look good.”, Jimin praised him but Yoongi scoffed, “I look absolutely ridiculous.”

“No man this is what the kids these days are wearing. You fit right in.”

You watched on in awe as you found out that the guy who worked at the campus bookstore whom you at one point had a small crush on was apparently a 250 year old witch who was also married to a fairy. And he was now talking to a 250 year old witch who you accidentally brought back from something called the twilight where his sister, your deceased elder neighbor, sent him over a hundred years or so ago. You thought you were going crazier by the minute.

“So do you have it still?”, you heard Yoongi ask Jimin.

“Yeah uh she dropped it off about six weeks ago. She probably knew her time was coming. I thought about throwing it away since I didn’t think there was any chance but I’m glad I saved it since you’re here.”, he said handing over a small envelope to Yoongi.

“Thank you.”, he nodded before turning to leave the store. You said goodbye and followed after him outside.

Once back in your car he stared at the envelope in his hands. His name elaborately written on the front.

You remained silent realizing that he was going through something. It seemed like he was afraid of whatever was in that letter.

Gently he broke open the seal watching as the letter floated up in front of him and unfolded. A voice that you recognized as your neighbors began to speak,

“Hello brother, Good to see that you finally made it out of the twilight. I admit that I only sent you there because I fully believed you would be able to get yourself out of there in no time.

Honestly every-time a black cat crossed my path I thought it was going to be you. I know they were your favorite to shift into. If I had known that I’d never see you again though, I never would’ve done it. I missed you Yoongi. It was hard going through life without you. I hope that you can forgive me and maybe we can see each other again one day.

I left the spell book with my neighbor. Her name is Y/N. I think you’ll like her. She’s got a good head on her shoulders and there’s something special about her. I can sense it. I think she could be the one.

Take care Yoongi. Love your little sister and still the better witch, Lenora.”

There was a spark and then then letter burst into a hundred little pieces before disappearing into nothing.

“Ar-Are you okay?”, you asked after noticing he hadn’t moved.

He smiled, “Yeah better than I thought I would be. That’s all I ever wanted from her. An apology and to know she was okay.”

You nodded then began to drive home when he cleared his throat, “Y/N, can I court you?”

“I’m sorry, what?”, you chuckled.

“Can I court you? Like we spend time together and talk and hold hands and then kiss and then eventually we partake in the sexual pleasure of each other?”

You choked on air, “Oh you’re asking me out, like on a date?”

“Sure if that’s what you want to call it.”

“Yes I’ll go on a date with you but let’s start with dinner or coffee and then slowly work our way up to sexual pleasures.”, you smiled hoping he couldn’t see you blush.

He shrugged his shoulders, “I mean you did call me hot and I have been told that my tongue can work magic on the body that no spell could ever do but suit yourself. We can stick to pumpkin spice lattes if you’d prefer.”

You awkwardly laughed before deciding to hit the gas pedal just a tiny bit harder.

[youssefguedira]

not to talk about my own vague concept of a fic but nile going by river and joe going by ghost (in arabic, which i believe is tayf, but correct me if i'm wrong)............. yeah

[lususnatura]

🎤 🎤 🎤

a song that i associate with my muse meme!

AHH, hey, ramone!! thank you for sending in this prompt :D since you sent in three of the mic's, i shall now be treating you to three songs that make me think of blamore when i hear them / that i associate with it. an explanation of why i chose them will be in the tags <3

hozier - who we are.

icehouse - crazy.

depeche mode - personal jesus.

[tojisun]

the lights are on

!! simon riley x afab reader; chubby reader; confidence and body issues; past bullying (not by simon and briefly mentioned); smut - minors dni // divider by @/plutism!

i projected too much of myself onto the reader so do forgive me for that. this is a milestone celebration for me, mostly, but also for you all so i hope you all would like it too <3

this is inspired by rachel wiley’s “10 honest thoughts on being loved by a skinny boy” - a slam poetry

you are told that love comes easily �� that it is the budding of spring, shimmering and vibrant, and blooming oh-so tenderly. unfurling oh-so carefully, like you are melting into padded sheets and cashmere sweaters.

you are told that love comes easily — that it stands out amongst a vast ocean. that it is distinguishable; a beacon so familiar you run towards it, unafraid and unashamed. like fate or destiny; like fairytales being remade.

you are told that love comes easily, but you know they mean to people who don’t look like you; only for the girls with slim arms and robust legs, with dips in their waists and hour-glass figures, with bones pressing against their skins like carved mountains.

love comes easily to thin girls. to the girls whose loud laughter are heard as wind chimes, whose jolly isn’t sneered at or embarrassing to see, whose confidence is just is — that it isn’t an act of empowerment or a statement or a message.

so you slink back into your shadows with little laughs and curled shoulders, like maybe if you diminished your presence enough, you would be seen physically small too. petite is a word no one has used for you but how else can anyone explain the way you trim yourself into bite-sized pieces?

you aren’t the first to be chosen; not the one people fight over. when you walk into a room, the best that could happen was that no one would notice you. that you would blend into the shadows or the walls, quiet and peaceful. painfully lonely, yes, but peaceful, nevertheless.

(you still have nightmares of high school.

of boys using you for their dares, like the only thing good about you was to be the butt of the joke; like asking you out was a comedic show.

of girls and—

sometimes, they’re meaner than the boys with all their lilac and softness; you thought that at least they were a kindred soul, but so many times, during lunch, you were cornered into tears until you became full from nothing but your anguish.)

when simon first walked into your life, you knew it — whatever ‘it’ could be — was impossible.

you had already ended the tragedy before something could even begin. you saw his beauty — in a way that you cannot explain; in a way that is rugged and scarred and terrifying, almost, but beautiful, still — and knew there was no way he would fall for you, anyway.

but simon was… persistent. charming you in a way that was painfully absent of all suave but he was still so charismatic, he always left your stomach in knots. hope bloomed in your chest and you realized that maybe it needn’t be a tragedy; that it mustn’t be a joke nor a dare; that you must be—

loved.

that you are loved — just that. just as is.

.

.

simon watches as you lay down on the bed, your cheeks tingling with heat as embarrassment rises from the base of your neck, dancing past your shoulders and devouring up until even the tip of your nose thrums with feverish touch. you look away from him, feeling so shy at the intensity in his eyes. he looks at you like he is ravenous for you; like you are the only nourishment he needs, and that you have made him hungry, his gums aching with the need to sink his teeth into the soft parts of your body.

you have never been looked at like this before, and it is intoxicating. it makes you heady, breathless, lips parted open as you gasp for air—

rustling fills your ears and you perk up, getting ready to snap your bra off, only to find simon naked, bare, his cock chubbing up from underneath his bush, and you have never loved a body until his. lust coils in the tendrils of your heart, stretching into the yawning that burrows in the pit of your stomach to capture you whole.

you want him.

god, do you want him.

he falls to his knees, stalking close to where you are splayed on the bed like the offering you are that he says he will never deserve, but you stop him with a hand up and a quiet breath, and, “the lights.”

your voice trembles. shame slowly snuffs out the greed.

“can you turn them off, please?” you ask because it is a courtesy you were taught to—

‘can you bathe me in darkness so that the two of us can pretend that i am not undesirable and that your love is not a fluke?’

‘can you hide me from your eyes so your mind does not give you reason to pull away?’

‘can you reduce me into a body to fuck into, so that our pretend-love story does not end?’

your question makes simon still, his heady eyes lightening up again. recognition slips into his consciousness and he rouses up — you tell yourself that the caving in your chest isn’t a heartbreak — to reach forward.

to reach for—

you.

simon’s scarred palm falls to your stomach, planting atop the sea of stretch marks. his thumb traces their ridges, so soft and slow and intimate, and your eyes burn because why is he so cruel?

why must he touch you like you are something to revere? like you are something priceless and that he is undeserving of you? like you are, all parts, beautiful?

“won’t you let me love you like this?” is what he says instead, and he moves, desperate to meet your eyes. “can we do it with the lights on, from now on?”

all the air in your lungs is knocked out of you.

his words were quiet but they resonated so loudly, almost booming and deafening. the world doesn’t freeze nor does time slow, but there is something in that moment that makes you feel like you are at the throes of something divine. like you are finally sewn together.

you do not sob but you are so close to doing so. instead, you pull him close, trembling, and give him a kiss. he melts into it, his hands mapping the softness of your body, digging into the fat and never letting go.

he devours you like this — hot lips against your own. spit is shared, moans fall in between the tiny cracks whenever you pull away to breathe only for simon to push close again, never letting you stray alone any longer, and clingy as he fits you into him.

the first drag of his fingers into your cunt makes you gasp, your head falling back to the pillows as a mewl drips from your mouth. he pulls away, huffing, and positions himself so he can watch you. you keep your head tipped up, still so embarrassed by being exposed this way, but simon curls his fingers just right, and he strokes against something that punches a gasp out of you.

“shit—”

“like this, sweetheart?” simon croons, nuzzling his face on your rib, his cheek bumping against your boob. he pulls his fingers out, dragging with him muffled squelching noises that tickle your ears, before fucking his fingers in you again.

you whine, a drawn hiccupped sound, and claw at the sheets at the pace he adopts. it is fast, overwhelming, but still not enough. it seems like he’s spoiled you rotten, and left you needy for nothing but his cock.

“fuck me,” you whimper, arms looped around his wrists. you feel so weak from the pleasure, wrung out of orgasms with his fingers in your cunt and his palm against your clit. you flick your eyes up, meeting his gaze. “si, please?”

he lets out a snarl, his softness and need peaking into something dangerous. you find that you are not scared, instead, you are besotted — inviting him in by spreading your legs wider, showing him how wet your pussy is and that it is ready for his taking.

your face crumples at the slow slide, his cock fucking you raw like this is the first time again. like you two have more to explore, more to uncover, and you keen at the intensity of it all.

missionary has never felt this good before; simon thrusts his hips, humping the remaining inches in, and you scream — your hips snapping up, and your throat burning with the ache. simon holds you by your waist, his fingers dimpling your flesh, and fucks you with gusto.

he chases his orgasm as he melts into you. he is louder today, and more guttural with his desires. he snarls his praises, the words curling from the backs of his teeth until they drip on you like hot wax — scalding, overwhelming, and leaving you to feel all tender and raw.

“si!” you cry out, reaching forward to play with your clit. “m’close, baby. m’close!”

“yeah?” he rasps out, his balls slapping against your ass. you go dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as goosebumps rise across the expanse of your body. “do i make my baby feel good? tell me, sweetheart, go on. tell me, huh?”

he is rambling, untethered, himself, as he loses in his own swelling euphoria.

you sob, toes digging into the mattress because you are unable to properly vocalize the pleasure, your mind all razed by the way he fucks you, but your baby is asking you to do so, so you tell him, “s’good. baby, s’good! i feel so full an’ only you can fuck me good an’— an’ si, i’m gonna— i’m gonna—”

your orgasm hits you like a fever breaking; like you are feeling a sense of release that has never been felt before. you feel like you are suspended, floating, your skin buzzing with lightning. you don’t even know you are screaming, deaf to anything but the explosion of ecstatic pleasure.

your teeth rattle at the first spurt of simon’s cum, and he presses uncoordinated kisses on your lips. it makes you giggle, all sluggish now that exhaustion is weaving in, and it is then that you meet simon’s eyes.

they are so clear and vibrant, the way they only ever are under light. they crinkle in his smile, and you puff, snuggling close, feeling like you can drop to sleep with his cock still in you.

“love you si,” you murmur, your words sticking together in your drowsiness.

he presses a kiss on your temple and breathes you in. then, “i love you too, sweetheart.”

and the lights are still on.

thank you once again for the 15k, and i hope you have loved this the way i loved writing it <33

i was struck with the poetry, and the way wiley described the way she is loved. she started her performance with the lines: “i say, ‘i am fat.’ he says, ‘no, you are beautiful.’ i wonder why i cannot be both.” and i have never related to anything more. wiley then talks about how their relationship unfurls, and in ‘6’ (it is a list poetry), she says, “he tells me he loves me with the lights on,” and i sobbed.

so i wrote a fic of me, and i hope thats alright.

[softspiderling]

and there you are on your knees | j.v

summary:

For a split second, your eyes met and it felt like he could see right through you. You tried not to flinch, keeping your head straight on and your gaze locked on him, hoping he would would avert his gaze. But he didn’t.

“Bent. Knees.”

Oh.

OR; Prince Jacaerys Velaryon arrives at the Twins to secure passing for the troops marching for his cause. He is successful in more ways than one.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: SMUT! 18+, MDNI, oral sex (male receiving), p in v, as usual, Jace has been aged up to 20!

word count: 1,8k

author’s note: remember when i posted that pic of jace like three weeks ago? i looked at it last week and went "what if...?👀" and this was born. idk😭😭 also am i crazy or hasnt anyone written anything about this scene before?? that’s illegal🙅🏻‍♀️ anyways tagging my hotd bestie @eldrith ily thanks for letting me yap your ear off, happy reading y’all🫶🏼

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You had heard rumours about the first son of Queen Rhaenyra; every lady that had met him sighed over his luscious dark brown locks or the handsomeness of his face that seemed to be carved out of the most expensive stone in the whole realm. Still, you were quite taken aback by how beautiful he really was when he crossed the bridge of the Twins, his dragon waiting for him in the greens just by the tower.

He truly knew how to make a first impression last.

“Lady Frey, Lord Frey,” Prince Jacaerys said, nodding to the sitting pair, hand on the hilt of his sword. His eyes flickered to you for a second.

“Lady…?”

“Frey, my Prince.”

Prince Jacaerys raised a surprise eyebrow but let it go uncommented, only eyeing you up and down very briefly before taking his sword off as he sat down.

Lady Frey poured him wine and without much preamble, they begun their talks of trades. You kept yourself mostly to the back, fulfilling your role as a ward, ever present but never putting your nose in affairs you had no business in. You tried to listen, the Prince seemingly asking for passing for troops coming in from the North, which Lady and Lord Frey agreed to after some negotiations; but you tried to use the advantage of being ignored to take in the Prince. He was young still, but he carried himself with a certain aura of power and confidence, which was a given; he was the Crown Prince of the Seven Realms after all.

Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted and you quickly put your very inappropriate thoughts about the Crown Prince away, trying to pay atention once more.

“You want Harrenhal.”

Lord and Lady Frey glanced at each other in silent conversation, while the Prince finished his drink, standing to hold his cup out for Lady Frey to refill.

“For that, my mother will want more than your crossing,” Prince Jacaerys said easily, his chin held high.

“What does her Grace desire?”

Prince Jacaerys discarded his cup on the table, leaning both his hands on it, towering over Lord and Lady Frey. For a split second, your eyes met and it felt like he could see right through you. You tried not to flinch, keeping your head straight on and your gaze locked on him, hoping he would avert his gaze. But he didn’t.

“Bent. Knees.”

Oh.

The sounds coming out of your mouth were scandalous and really downright filthy as the prince kept thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth, one hand fisted around your hair, the other holding onto his tunic, so he had an unobstructed view of you.

When Prince Jacaerys had asked you to show him the privy before he left, you had not expected him to back you into a secluded corner of the hallway, his lips upon yours and you felt like you were in a dream.

You were on your knees, your pretty dress flared out on the dirty floor, the hard stones digging into your shins, likely leaving bruises, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

“If I had known the Freys had such a pretty little thing for a ward, I would have come sooner,” Prince Jacaerys grunted, making you whine softly. He tightened his hold on your hair a little, snapping his hips up and tears sprang into your eyes as you nearly choked at the sheer size of him. Your hands grabbed at his waist to steady yourself, as he fucked his cock into your mouth, before he pulled out with a groan.

“Fuck, you nearly made me release,” Prince Jacaerys muttered, swiping his thumb over your lower lip. “But I am not quite done with you yet.”

He grabbed you by the arm, helping you stand, pressing his lips against yours, inarguably tasting himself on you, but Prince Jacaerys didn’t seem to mind. You pulled away from the kiss, your chest still heaving and your cheeks red. All of this was new to you, and you were embarrassed that you had to catch your breath.

Prince Jacaerys looked down on you with a smirk, brushing the sweaty hair off of your forehead.

“Turn around,” he said, turning you by the shoulder to press you up against the cold stone of the wall. “Have you ever laid with another man?”

“No,” you answered with a shake of your head, your cheeks turning a deeper red, nervous and excited at the same time, at the prospect of a man taking your maidenhood, the crown prince of the Iron Throne nonetheless.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No," you repeated, voice breathless. "Please, I want this."

“I’ll try to be gentle,” he whispered into your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, making you shiver.

Slotting himself against your back, Prince Jacaerys lifted the skirt of your dress to reach between your legs, his fingers rubbing over your pearl, your hips bucking in surprise as you moaned out.

“Patience, my sweets,” Prince Jacaerys rumbled, trapping your skirt under his arm, which he snuck around your waist. His fingers circled into your folds, gathering your wetness before he dipped one finger into your cunt.

“Oh Gods help me,” you moaned, writhing in his arm and Prince Jacaerys only chuckled.

“No Gods here, only me.”

He pumped his finger in and out of your cunt, until your walls acclimated to the intrusion and he added another finger, making you roll your eyes to the back. Never before have you felt such pleasure down there, you weren’t sure if you could go back to not knowing how it felt.

“Just… One more,” Prince Jacaerys mumbled, adding a third finger and you felt incredibly full, like you were split open, but in a good way? The pads of his fingers kept brushing against the spongy part inside of you, which made you curl your toes in your shoes. You leaned your forehead against the cold stone, feeling a growing sensation in your lower stomach.

“I think… I think I might..” you groaned, your lips parted.

“What?” Prince Jacaerys said, his breath hot on your ear as he kept fucking you with his fingers. “Are you going to come, Lady Frey?”

“Y-yes, my Prince.”

“Call me by my given name and I’ll let you.”

He pressed onto your pearl with his thumb and you swore you saw black for second before you came, a moan of his name on your tongue.

“Incredible,” he whispered, pulling his hand away to tug on his cock that had been rutting against your backside, leaving a smear of his precum on your skin.

“This might be uncomfortable at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

You weren’t quite sure what Prince Jacaerys was talking about when you felt the head of his cock breaching your cunt and you let out a small gasp.

It hurt at first, and you let out a small breath as he kept pushing his cock in - Gods, did it ever end?

“Gods you’re tight,” Prince Jacaerys groaned, his hands gripping your waist when he was fully sheathed inside of you. You only whimpered in reply - how would you previously think you were full when he had three fingers inside of you? This was no comparison.

You let out a laboured breath, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down your temple and you shifted on your feet, letting out a surprised moan when it caused delicious friction of the Prince’s cock inside your cunt.

“Ah, you’re feeling it, don’t you,” Prince Jacaerys whispered lowly in your ear, bringing your hair to the side, so he could place wet kisses upon your back. “The pleasure coursing through you, like you have never felt before?”

Just as the words left his mouth, he started to thrust his cock into you with no abandon. The sounds of skin slapping skin filled the hallway, coupled with his grunts and your moans, it was a miracle no one stumbled upon you, but even if they did, you didn’t know if you’d care enough to stop.

Your blunt nails scraped against the walls, as the Prince’s cock kept going in and out, you were starting to see walls. It wasn’t long before you could feel the warm sensation in your lower stomach forming again, this time so much more intense.

“P-please,” you whimpered, your whole body feeling like it was burning.

“Lo ao’re beri nyke jāhor mazverdagon ao ñuhon,” Prince Jacaerys whispered into your hair as his cock drove into you.

You were too fucked out to realize you didn’t understand him, and definitely too fucked out to ask what he had just said to you, clinging to the wall for any semblance of support as your body shook with every thrust.

“I’m almost there,” Prince Jacaerys grunted, his hand finding your pearl again as he slowed his thrusts, instead thrusting harder, finger pressing down on your pearl. “Will you finish for me, my sweets?”

“Yes,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”

The Prince only chuckled, not once pausing his movement but accelerating the circles he was drawing on your pearl, until you finally broke, a wave of pleasure washing over you so powerful it knocked you over.

“Gods, Jacaerys!” you moaned, your cunt pulsating in its wake, your eyes fluttering shut, leaning against the wall.

You were only standing because the Prince kept a steady grip on you, his cock still fucking into your wet, soppy cunt. His thrust stuttered before he gave one last, thrust, shooting his warm seed right into your hole, your cunt milking him for everything he was worth, the seed escaping from the sides, dripping down your legs as he pulled out.

With one hand, Prince Jacaerys tucked his cock back into his pants and letting your dress fall back down, his other hand holding you upright, your knees still weak.

“Can you stand?”

“I think?”

His hand was firm but gentle as he turned you around, a smirk on his lips as you looked up at him through your lashes, completely ruined. Again, he pushed the hair out of your face, almost lovingly, as if he didn’t just shoot his seed into your cunt, his seed that you could still feel trickling down your leg, beneath your dress.

“Maybe I will be back,” Prince Jacaerys said, wiping his thumb over you mouth. “Make sure you really are staying loyal to the rightful heir of the Iron Throne.”

You chuckled breathlessly, looking up at him. “House Frey would welcome you with open arms.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up, slowly released your waist, before he leaned down to kiss you deeply. You sighed softly against his lips, but the kiss was over sooner than you had wished, your mouth chasing his.

“Be good, make sure your guardians keep their words or I will come for their heads.”

With those words, Prince Jacaerys left you in the dark hallway, still catching your breath. This was not how you had envisioned the Crown Prince’s visit to go.

But who were you to complain if he was so generous?

────────────

Lo ao’re beri nyke jāhor mazverdagon ao ñuhon = if you’re lucky i might make you mine

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: thoughts?👀

[rubiehart]

jj with a really super girly reader!! like pink everything, bows, the whole coquette look🎀💗🍓

ఌ whenever you decide to paint your own nails for once, he always helps you paint your dominant hand, holding your hand in his larger one, tongue poking out between his lips in concentration as he focuses. giggling a little, “oops. you got it jayj.” whenever he’d , go out of the lines a little, spilling some of the glittery polish onto your finger.

ఌ convincing him to do the tiktok trend where you tie a bow around your bf’s bicep and him mindlessly agreeing whilst scrolling on his phone, looking up at he hears you chirp a little ‘all done!’ to see the little pink bow tied delicately around his arm and grinning at you, “look just like you now, pretty.”

ఌ him coming over to see your vase which is normally filled with pretty pink or red roses is empty, asking you about it casually, “oh, i’ve been meaning to get some more at the market, keep forgettin’.” you’d reply, muffled against his shoulder as you watch the tv, he takes a mental note and you forget about the interaction all together until the next day you come home from work to see a fresh bouquet of baby pink roses sitting all pretty in your vase, and a little note, “hope you like the flowers girly. ♡︎” making you smile and shoot him a thankyou text, all giddy that he remembers lil’ things you tell him.

ఌ buying you a matching pink zippo lighter to his and carving both of your initials into it like he did on his!! maybe tying a lil’ pink bow around it when he gave it to you, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly anticipating your reaction “sorry it’s not much baby-“ not giving him chance to finish before flinging yourself into his arms and smattering his face with grateful kisses.

ఌ you’ve basically built a collection of those little animal skincare/makeup headbands with the lil’ snails and bunny’s and he’d deffo wear one while you do your makeup or tries them all one, finding it funny to distract you because he thinks you look adorable when you scold him.

ఌ when he starts staying over at your house more often he uses your body washes and shampoos because it’s basically his only option!! (also because he loves the smell of you, duh.) but you buy him his own little toiletry basket with shampoo, body wash, deodorant maybe a mini of his cologne and put a toothbrush for him in your bathroom so they’re together all cute!!

ఌ having little self care nights when you put on cute scented sheet masks and him wearing a tiger one with the whiskers and everything, patting it down against his warm skin as he keeps fake biting you, sniggering when you look at him disapprovingly with a “jj.” because he can’t take you seriously in that unicorn sheet mask!!

[kasagia]

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Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Fremen!soulmate! reader Summary: You were taught that there were monsters lurking in the darkness. That you should never talk to them—those who are just waiting to get at you in your defenceless state. But how do you avoid something that haunts your dreams every night? And what to do when a nightmare suddenly enters your reality? Warning: violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; soulmate au!; Taglist for Feyd: @avidreader73 Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Part II ~•♤♤♤•~

At first you thought it was just a nightmare.

One of those terrifyingly stupid ones that happens when you collapse into bed in exhaustion after a long day of training with your father.

You don't remember exactly how you ended up on Arrakis, but you know for sure that it wasn't your home planet. You may have been too young to remember everything from your past or to have one sure memory about living somewhere else than that one huge dune, but it didn't change that at night you are haunted by images that the human imagination couldn't create on its own.

However, you preferred not to mention it to your father. He kept the story of your little family close to him, not telling anyone from your Sietch any details. For him, the past was supposed to stay in the past. So you didn't push him. The life you had... was, for lack of a better word, enough. You didn't go hungry, you didn't lack water as much as other groups, and you lived a peaceful life far from the Atreides and Harkonnens who tried to take over Arrakis or the cunning plans of the Bene Gesserit. You lived in peace.

Until some time.

It all began with a nightmare…

You shiver as you feel the heat rising from the desert sands surrounding you. A warm wind blows into your eyes, mocking you as it hits grains of sand in your eyes. You curse, rubbing your hand over your eyes as you try to cover them so you can take in as much of your surroundings as the crazy sandstorm will allow you.

In the distance, you see something like a cave carved into a rocky dune. You head there in hopes of finding shelter there. You go slowly, step by step. Sand gets inside your shoes; you feel it everywhere. On the skin, in the hair, on the eyelashes, on the lips. You feel like you're about to choke on it.

The pungent scent of the spice fills your lungs, making you feel stronger and more alert as you wade through the folds of sand.

And suddenly, you hear it. Gentle, dull thumps on the ground. You freeze, realising what they could mean—or rather, what they could attract.

You run ahead even before you notice the sand moving due to the sandworm's arrival. You feel the ground shake as you desperately try to escape the bloodthirsty creature of Arrakis. But, as always, you're too slow. The sandworm emerges, engulfing you completely. Darkness envelopes you as you feel yourself falling.

Only this time you don't wake up with a racing heart or jump out of bed with rapid breathing, grabbing for the sword that rests safely by your bed.

No. This time, you land in a large, empty, black room.

You shudder, wrapping your hands around yourself and rubbing your arms as you feel the coldness of the room hit your skin. You frown as you walk over to the mirror, which seems to be the only thing in the room illuminated by the dim glow of the torchlight on the wall. You're wearing a long black nightgown; your nails are painted black, as are your lips. Your skin is a little paler than usual, but you're relieved to no longer have to deal with the sands of Arrakis. You are fed up with this planet every day, seeing it in your dreams only kills you more…

You don't recognise this place, but something about the darkness surrounding you makes you feel uneasy. Your heart quickens as you look for a way out of the empty, black chamber.

Your bare feet lead you into the darkness, all you can hear is your breathing, your heartbeat, and your quiet footsteps as you take quick steps, trying to have as little contact as possible between your skin and the cold, black marble underneath your feet.

You start to hear whispers. Quiet, feminine. You don't understand most of them; they all merge into a tangle of sounds, from which it is difficult to distinguish single words. You walk forward, only to once again stand in front of the same mirror as at the beginning of your journey.

You examine the black frame, looking for some hidden mechanism they might be hiding, convinced that there is some secret passage hidden behind the mirror. You run your fingertips lightly over the frame of the mirror and flinch when you accidentally prick your finger.

You hiss as a trickle of blood runs down your finger. You put it on your lips, but before you can lick the blood off it, you see in the mirror that someone's large, white hand is firmly gripping your wrist, stopping you from doing so.

You freeze when your eyes meet the icy blue irises of a man emerging from the shadows behind you. Your heart beats faster when you see his white, bald head and eyebrowless face. The sneer on his face allows you to see his pitch-black teeth for a moment, which makes you shiver.

Harkonnen.

You feel him pressing his chest against your back. He wraps his other hand around your waist like a snake, making you feel trapped, like you can't breathe anymore.

Somehow, you can't move your gaze from the mirror. And even when you're in Harkonnen's dangerous grasp, all you can do is look at him, or more precisely, into his eyes. You are hypnotised as if you have never seen one in your life, as you have never killed one. You can't shake the feeling that he's familiar to you. Your stupid heart calms down at his proximity, but your mind screams at you to run away from the enemy. And it's right. As always. But you're too stunned to listen to reason, too enchanted by the developments you're seeing in the mirror in front of you.

As he tightens his grip on your wrist, you break out of whatever strange spell you're under, letting your survival instincts take over. You try to fight him, to break free from his grip, but he doesn't seem to care that you are struggling against him. He directs your hand with your bleeding finger to your neck, leaving a trail of blood from your mouth to your neck, collarbone, and shoulder.

You shiver as he finishes, and, keeping his gaze on you in the mirror, he guides your hand to his mouth. The inside of his mouth is warm, his tongue wraps around your finger, drawing in every drop of blood that still escapes from the wound that is healing. He sucks up the last of your blood, licking his lips as he releases your finger.

"Sweet." His soft purring in your ear gives you goosebumps.

He leans down and places a wet kiss on your shoulder. His tongue caresses your skin as he licks up the blood he placed there earlier. You stare at the mirror, frozen, as his pale, almost white skin touches yours as he follows a trail of blood, leaving small bites and a black streak in his wake. You're not sure if it was his saliva that was black or if it was from the paint they probably used on their teeth and the inside of their mouths (or at least you hoped they weren't naturally black).

You fight against him as he peppers your neck with kisses, leaving a few hickeys there. But he's too strong, and with your movements, you rub against him, not causing him any serious pain, which somehow makes him even more aroused. He is pressing the evidence of his... excitement uncomfortably against your ass.

Suddenly, his hand is wrapped tightly around your neck as he turn you to face him and pins you to the mirror. Looking at him through the mirror was completely different from looking at him straight in the eyes. It all felt… more real, however real a figment of your horrible imagination might feel.

He leans down, making you very aware that he had one spot left where your blood was still. Your lips. You try to move away from him, but the more you press yourself against the mirror, the more his body presses against you.

"Oh, she's a little warrior... that makes all of it even sweeter." He chuckles darkly, playing with a strand of your hair. You shiver, feeling his hard length press against your clothed core.

The whispers around you turn into screams and chants as he leans down to kiss the last drop of blood from your lips. You turn your head, causing his pale lips to land on your cheek. You feel his breath against your skin as he chuckles again. He takes the opportunity to lick a path from your cheekbone to your temple before catching your jaw in a tight grip.

"You won't get far, little mouse. Accept your fate." He says, leaning in again, his nose brushing against yours, you feel the cold radiating from him as he digs his fingers hard into your skin as he lazily and leisurely brings his lips to yours...

Feyd opens his eyes as the metal tray clatters against the black marble floor of his chamber.

He automatically reaches for the dagger hidden under his pillow and throws it at one of his concubines, who accidentally dropped the tray down. The other two freeze, staring at their dead sister. The dead body falls to the floor with a thud. The blood quickly begins to pool around the body of the dead harpy.

Feyd smiles, seeing both fear and hunger in their eyes when they see the opportunity to eat good meat. Pathetic. He had warned them not to wake him up today.

"Clean up and get out." He growls at them, furious. He carefully watches as they carry out the body (presumably to feast on it as the remnants of humanity within them lose to starvation) and clean the floor before obediently leaving his chambers.

Furious, he falls on the bed. He covers his eyes with his hand in a feeble attempt to return to his dream and taste your lips. He wonders if maybe it wasn't for the better... after all, he should have tasted the real thing instead of toying with you in dreamland, where his options were... quite limited.

He sighs, taking from the bedside table an empty vial of magical liquid that an old Bene Gesserit witch had given him. To connect with his soulmate in a dream.

As a little boy, he was prophesied that he would only become emperor if his soulmate stood by his side. Of course, his uncle and brother made it difficult for him to find you, believing it to be the mad ravings of an old witch. They said it wasn't the time, that he should train to be a warrior and not play some pathetic character into a romance history, that Giedi Prime needed him more, and that he shouldn't believe the old witches' prophecies and the stupid initials on his wrist. His uncle believes that he will bring him to the highest throne himself. That he doesn't need any whore whose initials match those on Feyd's wrist. That his soulmate will only weaken him.

Soulmates were rare on his 'home planet'. The baron didn't have his. His brother was too cowardly and inept to even think about looking for his own. People here rarely loved anyone other than themselves. Feyd was perfectly fine with it. Until visions began to haunt him in the night. About his soulmate. The hazy future he might have had began to plague him more and more often as he approached his age of maturity.

Before his father died and Feyd killed his mother, he remembers glimpses of good times. Where he was loved. Where he was the apple of his parents' eyes, who were each other's soulmates and loved each other more than life itself. So much so that after his father's death, his mother stopped living. She just existed, not paying attention to anything or anyone, including her own son. Her own blood… By killing her, Feyd ended her suffering and his own at the same time. Did he regret it? Not at all. Not after the training he received at the hands of the Baron.

He told himself that he only wanted to find you because he has promised a great future with you as his wife. That he has to have you if he wants to get to the top. But the passage of time only intensified his sense of loneliness. Longing for someone who is meant for him and who is supposed to be his and only his. Entirely. Willingly. Always by his side. He runs his fingertip thoughtfully over the initials tattooed on his wrist—a daily reminder of the one thing he wants most and which is out of his reach.

Feyd got used to always getting what he wanted. The ruthlessness and cruelty he learned under his uncle's supervision ensured that his every whim would be fulfilled. Either by himself or as a result of his service to the baron when he received gifts from him. But lately, he hasn't been happy with anything. He passively accepted the baron's praise, new concubines, blades, and other gifts. It no longer mattered to him. His ambitions began to grow. And after they had successfully disposed of House Atreides, Feyd realised the possibilities before him. Imperial throne. The promised golden future with his soulmate was within his reach. He just needed to find you and catch you in his iron grip.

You occupied his days, nights, and thoughts when he was fighting in the arena and at the extremely boring council meetings. And it's not like Feyd fell in love. He was incapable of love. Not after everything he's been through. But there was something irresistibly tempting about the idea of having someone who was completely HIS.

He considered it more of an obsession, a desire for something he had never had, something no one had shown him—care, affection, and devotion. And in his visions... in his visions he saw you giving him all these things. So he decided to make it a reality. And when he gets tired of you... he will always have the title of emperor, which you are destined to provide for him. He didn't know exactly how, and maybe he had previously dismissed the Bene Gesserit's prophecies and plots as a bunch of nonsense, but this one seemed... quite good to fulfil and to believe in.

"You asked for me, my na-baron." The artist he commissioned to draw your portrait stands in his doorway, shaking like jelly. He probably heard about how he killed one of his concubines this morning. Feyd had to start getting rid of them. After all, once he has you, he won't need them anymore.

"What took you so long?" He growls at him irritably as he gets out of bed and puts on a black silk robe. Maybe he would have laughed at the terrified man if his first encounter with you in dreams hadn't been so brutally interrupted. He had to find that old hag to give him more of that liquid...

"I arrived as quickly as I could, my lord na-baron. Please let me show you what I managed to create."

Feyd nods at him impatiently, letting him spread out his sketches on the desk. Feyd snaps his fingers at the maid waiting at the door. She pours him a glass of water, which he takes as he lazily saunters along the desk, assessing the sketches the man was supposed to create based on Feyd's description.

"The nose is too small. The jaw is too sharp. Is it supposed to be a woman? Burn it before I burn you. Breasts and hips are too big. Do you think my soulmate has a bulge? It looks like a caricature made by a child." He grades the drawings one by one, going through the dozens of sketches the artist has made over the past three days.

Just as Feyd is about to pick up the dagger from the chest of drawers nearby to kill an incompetent artist, he notices one particular portrait that almost perfectly captures you and your beauty. He takes it between two fingers and looks at it carefully.

"Hmm..." he hums, drinking water. He hands this drawing to the artist. "My congratulations, you managed to keep your head and prove your usefulness. Fix it. Eyes a little smaller, cheeky twinkle. I want a version of this in different outfits. Nobility, beggar, knight, whatever comes to your mind, except a whore, otherwise you'll end up like one. How long will it take you?"

"I…um…a week, my lord?" He almost rolls his eyes and loses his patience with him. If he had a dagger close at hand, he would definitely have plunged it into the man's throat by now.

"You only need one hand to draw. So don't test your lucky, or I will make sure you only have that one. I want to have portaits which fully reflects the beauty of my na-baroness by the end of the week - before I leave to Arrakis. Understood?" He asks, appreciating that the artist has the decency to at least show real fear.

"Yes, my na-baron."

"So don't waste my air."

The relieved artist quickly leaves the room before he changes his mind. Feyd nods to the maid, who follows the man and closes the door behind her. Feyd looks at the portraits on the desk again.

No higher families had a daughter who looked like you. So he had to expand the scope of his search and give orders to his soldiers to... gently capture you (or women like you) and bring them to him. After seeing you clearly in a dream, and not as the result of some distant vision of the future that wasn't that clear, he knew exactly what face he was looking for. He also had initials.

He was thinking about you as his fingertips traced the two precious letters on his wrist. He will find you. He'll look into any hole to do it. You cannot hide from him for long.

You jump up from your bed, your heart beating rapidly as you breathe heavily after waking up from another nightmare.

This went on for a week. You'd be transported from your usual nightmare about Arrakis and put into a black room with a Harkonnen who... was doing completely different things to you than they normally did.

You blush, wiping your sweaty forehead as you remember all the... almost lewd dreams you've had. You curse your imagination for coming up with such a terrible and embarrassing scenario. You began to fear that you were developing some sick desires towards a nation that brutally persecuted your brothers and sisters, disturbed your peace, and murdered more than one friend you had managed to make here.

You should be dreaming of killing them, not of being… groped and defiled by one of them. Especially on the day when you were supposed to rescue your people imprisoned by the Harkonnens.

"Karamakala." Your friend enters your tent. "Move your ass; they're calling for sandworm."

You roll your eyes when she calls you by your tribal name. Due to your… unique skills, the Naib of your sietch bestowed it on you. The miracle of the desert.

Your father wasn't happy about that. That name attracted attention he never wanted. He preferred it when you stayed in the shadows, away from the people you travelled with in the desert. The fact that he even allowed you to go on a rescue mission with them and others was a miracle. He made his decision only through the persuasion of your Naib, who said that only if you were coming with them would they have a chance to recover the prisoners and safely go back to your camp.

You and your friend left the tent fully prepared for the mission, joining the group while waiting for the sandworm to appear. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to feel the monster breaking through the sand. What you felt most strongly was the heartbeat of your companions, but when you focused a little more, you could feel a small heartbeat in the distance, buried several metres beneath the sands of Arrakis. You twist your fingers, controlling the flow of blood from the sandworm's arteries, trying to direct it more towards where you were waiting with your hooks to dig into its body.

"Save your strength for the Harkonnens." Your father's voice booms from behind your shoulder. You sigh and let your hand fall freely, stopping playing with the animal's blood. "I want you close to me; in my sight, no stupid heroic actions, okay? We're in and out as fast as all hell breaks loose, or we get our people back."

"It's just a small base. Even without being outnumbered, we would be able to kill them all."

"Not now. They changed power. Now the baron's youngest nephew gives the orders. A psychopathic, bloodthirsty madman. But he's a good strategist; you have to give him that. He took back control of parts of Arrakis that Muad'Dib had managed to retake, so Harkonnens now again have the lands they once took. And they are not going to stop until the Arrakis is completely theirs. If they go further south we will have to leave this planet." He speaks quietly, carefully observing the people around you. You frown, staring at him in surprise.

"But you said that here was the safest for us to live. Are we supposed to run away like cowards?" You ask indignantly.

He always presented you with a fait accompli, with a decision that he made for you. Which was supposed to be best for you and your safety. But you were tired of constantly running and hiding. You wanted to take your life into your own hands. Contribute to something rather than passively watching the decline of the people you grew up with.

"It is better to be a coward than to be a dead hero. Since you were born, all I have done is protect you. So don't doubt me, daughter. I know what I'm doing." Your father scolds you, readying your hooks as you see sand moving in the distance due to the sandworm's movements.

"It would be much easier if you told me what you are protecting me from, father." You scoff at him, getting even more angry when a sudden gust of wind sends sand flying across your face, stopping in your hair. Your father chuckles, at which you glare madly at him.

"From a fate that is not seeming to be very kind for you."

"Well sometimes we have to accept it." You position yourself next to him, preparing to attach yourself to the body of the sandworm that would take you to the small Harkonnen's military base.

"As long as I'm breathing, I won't let this happen. We create our fate. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He says that before you both find yourself on the animal's back. You hide your face behind scarves and safety glasses, preparing for the long road.

Your thoughts involuntarily wander to the Harkonnen you have been dreaming about lately. Maybe a sleep potion could help you get rid of those strange, erotic dreams where one of these monsters is trying to seduce you. You had to test it later.

Feyd takes a swing, driving his spiked whip into the body of a Fremen his men recently captured. He rarely deals with prisoners himself, but lately, when he drinks a Bene Gesserit potion every night just to meet you in his dreams, he feels... frustrated. And he knew of no better way than to take it out on his enemies.

He swings his whip. The man's moans come to him as he recalls his last encounter with you, from which he woke up a few hours ago.

He watches you from the darkness of the chamber. You look gorgeous wearing a black silk nightgown that hugs your body to the delight of his eyes. He notices the muscles you had to develop during combat or training. You must have been much more than just a delicate, pretty petal.

Which made him extremely happy. He liked a good fight. He enjoyed winning them even more.

He approaches you silently, as always, and wraps his arms around your waist. He hums contentedly against your ear, fingertips roaming your body as he makes sure you can't break away from his grip and you're pressed tightly against him.

"You should be used to me being close to you by now, my little warrior." He whispers in your ear, stopping you from fighting him in any way. He doesn't like the way you're so tense in his arms, but he's more than ready to coerce you, gently or not, into cooperating with him.

"Get your hands off me, Harkonen dog!" You growl, elbowing him between the ribs. Feyd grabs your wrists and twists them behind your back, making sure you can't move them. You gasp as he pushes you against the wall, pressing his growing length against your ass.

"Relax, I won't hurt you… yet. Keep acting like that, and I'll tie you up so you won't be able to struggle anymore." He whispers in his husky voice into your ear. He nuzzles your temple, trailing it to your neck. You hold your breath as you feel his teeth graze against your tender skin.

You know that in a moment he will sink his teeth into your body, that he will start marking you with tiny bites and hickeys. This time, however, you want to win the fight with him. You are fully ready to use against him everything you learned on Arrakis.

The moment his teeth pierce your skin, you reach for the blade at his side and push him away from you. You stick the blade out at him, making sure to make a cut on his shoulder before bringing the steel to his pale throat.

He chuckles darkly, watching you carefully as his fingers reach out to his thick black blood flowing from his wound. He licks the blood from his fingers, making sure your eyes follow the way his pink tongue wraps around his fingers, sucking the black liquid from them.

"Clever little thing… believe me, you don't want to know my wrath. Put it down. It's not a toy... well, not for you." He takes a step towards you. Before he manages to get any closer to you, you press the blade against his skin, causing a small cut along his jawline and at his Adam's apple.

Fascinated by the way the black blood flows gently down his throat, you don't notice as he knocks the dagger from your hand. He throws it behind him, causing it to fall to the floor with a thud as he reaches for you.

You growl, kicking, trying to break free from his grip as he carries you across the room. Your efforts intensify when you feel the smooth, velvety material of the sheets beneath you.

He hovers above you, one of his hands grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the mattress above your head. His hard length rubs against your core through the fabric of your clothes. You sigh, trying to push him away or bite him when he leans down to tease the skin of your neck again.

"You smell so beautiful, so different. My little soulmate. So fierce. So brave. My little warrior. I could teach you so many things… if only you would stop hiding from me." You shiver as his fingers trail under your black nightgown. He cups his hand around your breast and plays with your nipple, pinching and nibbling it, wanting to see the little pebbled mounds that lift the black fabric of your clothes. He rolls up the fabric of your nightgown and rubs himself against your bare core, groaning at the way you soak his pants with your unwanted arousal. He throws his shirt aside and grabs your throat in a tight grip, forcing you to look into his eyes whether you want to or not. "But you know what? No matter how far or fast you run, no matter how deep you hide, I will find you. I will find you in every corner of the world. I will follow you. Follow after every trace of you, whether you let me or not, and I WILL find you. I will catch you in my arms, I will dig my claws into you, and I will not let you go. Enjoy your freedom during the day, little warrior, while you still can. But in the darkness of the night, you are utterly mine."

You growl in anger, making one last attempt to fight him off. You lean towards him and bite down roughly on his neck. He groans, digging his fingers and nails into your hips, making you gasp as you feel him leave crescent-shaped marks on your skin.

You take advantage of his moment of inattention and dig your nails into his chest, dragging them across his collarbones and down to his abdominal muscles. You push him away from you, kicking him out of bed, and just as Feyd's head lands on the floor, he wakes up from his dream.

"Na-Baron. We… The Fremen attacked the south gate." One of his soldiers hesitantly approaches him. Feyd glances at him briefly, selecting his dagger from the body of a prisoner, but still watches the soldier out of the corner of his eye.

"What do you mean they attacked us?"

"These rats want to retrieve the transport of prisoners that arrived last week, my lord." The man replies, horrified by the calmness with which Feyd addresses him.

Everyone knew perfectly well that the young Na-Baron could compliment your fighting skills one moment and then slit your throat like nothing happened. He was dangerous in any state of humour. This was common knowledge and opinion that Feyd had been working on for a long time.

He didn't need a reason to do something.

"So gather two troops. Let's have some fun with them. It's not every day that they come willingly and eagerly to their slaughter." Feyd responds with a sneer, readying his blades. It was exactly what he needed—to take his frustration out on those rats who thought they could outsmart him and his men.

You run through the corridors of the Harkonnen's base from the soldiers with your friend by your side. They held your people for several days without water or food; most of them couldn't move on their own, so as soon as you saw a face you had known since childhood among the prisoners, you threw the man's arm over yours and dragged him to the place where the entire squad was supposed to gather.

You hold your breath and hide in one of the side corridors. You hold him close to you and breathe softly, trying not to attract anyone's attention. You manage to reach your group of men safely, but that's where your luck ends.

Within moments, a group of Harkonnens surrounds you. You must disperse. Each of you is on your own after you manage to attach your unconscious friends to a sandworm's body so they can survive the trip to your sietch.

You manage to avoid most of the Harkonnen soldiers, and you kill those who get in your way without blinking an eye. You're halfway to the second emergency exit you and your men had marked out before raiding the base when you bump into someone as you run to another corridor.

You gasp, trying to regain your balance. You freeze when you recognise the black Harkonnen's armour on the arms, which keeps you from falling to the floor. You look up and freeze, seeing the same blue irises that haunt you in your nightmares.

"Well, well... what do we have here?" You're shaking. His voice in real life is as hoarse, deep, and dark as in your nightmares. He is exactly as you dreamed of him. You hate the way your body somehow recognises him and automatically relaxes in his arms—the way his scent and closeness have become familiar to you.

You struggle in his arms and manage to push him away from you. You run as fast as you can, trying to lose him among the corridors. You hear his raspy laugh behind you before his quick footsteps begin to echo down the empty halls as he follows after you.

You scream as he lunges at you and pins you to the stone floor. You struggle under him, kicking and trying to scratch him, but he grabs your wrists in his strong grip.

"Take it easy, little warrior. We knew from the beginning how it would end. Do not move. I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you try to escape." You sigh, closing your eyes. You freeze, focusing on your surroundings, your mind racing as you wonder how to get out of his arms and this place. You shiver when you feel his nose brush against yours. "Exactly like this. Beautifully. That's my pretty girl. Who would have thought you would be one of those rats?"

"Be careful with your words." You growl, enduring the intense gaze of his blue eyes.

He laughs hoarsely and leans in. His full lips brush against yours in a kiss. First, he takes his time checking how far he can go, but when he sees that you are not trying to bite him, push him away, or run away, he deepens the kiss. His hand tangles in your hair, and the other frees your wrists to trace you through your Fremen attire.

For a moment, you allow yourself to lose yourself in the feeling of his lips, the way he caresses your lips so gently and with such passion, and the way he practically wants to devour you just because he actually can—that this is not one of your dreams but reality. A reality that Feyd was yearning for so long—too long—to even admit.

Eventually, however, you manage to break free from his strange charm. You run your hands down his chest to his hips. He moans into your mouth, entwining his tongue with yours. You reach for his dagger and stab him in the back without blinking an eye. You push him off of you, and, ignoring his growl, you get up and continue running away.

Your heart is beating like crazy, and your muscles are starting to ache from exerting yourself for so long, but you continue running until you can no longer hear any footsteps behind you. You sigh in relief as you reach a group of other Fremen. You are getting ready to evacuate; you are about to summon a sandworm when another group of Harkonnens attacks you again.

You look around in panic, searching for your father in the crowd, but you can't find him anywhere. Your heart speeds up, and adrenaline rushes through you, speeding up your reactions to the blows. You fight like crazy, not stopping even for a moment. However, you notice that slowly, the Harkonnens are starting to win. You signal to your companions and retreat into the desert. You release a small bomb whose main purpose is to raise the sand and create a cover for you.

The sands of Arrakis swirl around you. You run forward, trying to get as far away from the base as possible. As far away from HIM as possible.

Your lungs hurt from the sand you inhale. You want to cough and cry from the sand getting into your eyes, but you don't stop running. You gasp as the sand beneath your feet suddenly begins to move strangely. Strangely familiar. You curse under your breath, realising that the sandworm is about to appear in a second.

And suddenly, you feel like being back in your nightmare. You see the mouth of a sandworm again. You stare at his teeth again, a black abyss that is soon going to swallow you completely. You stand there frozen, completely forgetting about all your training, as if you had accepted a long time ago that this is how you were going to die.

And everything happens exactly as in your nightmare. Only this time, as you surrender to the darkness around you, you hear the roar of the ship's engine and the harsh language of the Harkonnens when you pass out.

You feel your head pounding. Huge pain, as if thousands of tiny needles were being stuck into your temples. You open your eyes, squinting as you adjust to the dimness around you. Judging by the immense pain you felt, you definitely weren't dead. Or you did, and you were in hell now; you weren't sure yet. You look around you, noticing a fire in the middle of the small cave you were in. You lean back on your elbows and freeze when you see Harkonnen's bald, pale head.

You get up silently and move to where your gun was, looking carefully at the man kneeling by the radio who was trying to transmit a signal. With a knife in your hand, you begin to examine your surroundings more closely. You notice that the entrance to the cave has been blocked by a ship. If you wanted to escape, you had to get past or kill Harkonnen and guide the ship out of this place.

"If I were you, I wouldn't do that, little warrior." A shiver runs through you as you hear the familiar, raspy voice that has tormented you in your dreams many times. You tighten your grip on the blade's handle and point the tip of it at him, maintaining your fighting stance. "You have a torn ankle ligament, a minor concussion, and you're dehydrated. Even with your knowledge of the desert, you won't survive there when a sandstorm rages. Here." He turns to you for a moment and throws the water bottle at you. You grab it with one hand, still eyeing him warily.

He speaks something in his language; you only manage to recognise a few words, such as Na-Baron, Dune, reinforcements, ship, and your location data. When he finishes, he stands up, turns to you, and furrows his hairless eyebrows, watching you closely.

"Drink. You'll feel better." He says this and sits down by the fire as if nothing had happened. You blink a few times, staring at him in shock as you try to understand why he acts so strangely... calm. You step back and hiss as your foot goes out of alignment, straining the torn muscle. "I told you so."

"Where are we?" You ask, wincing at the sound of your hoarse voice. He stares pointedly at the bottle of water in your hands, but you'd rather die than try anything he gave you.

He sighs, annoyed, and stands up. You raise your knife, pointing it at him as he starts to walk towards you. However, he doesn't stop, only when the tip of the blade pierces gently into his chest. He reaches for the water bottle and unscrews it. He takes a small sip and licks his lips, giving you a glimpse of his black teeth.

"Not far from our base. Your people summoned a sandworm. If I hadn't flown the ship to you and taken you away, it would have swallowed you. A moment later, a sandstorm came, and I had to take us to a safe place. We'll wait it out here, and you'll come back with me to the main stronghold. So be a good girl and listen to me while I feel like going easy on you. I guess you can do this for me for saving you, right, my desert rose?"

"You do one decent thing and expect me to submit to you? I didn't ask you to save me, and besides, I think in the grand scheme of things, one saved life doesn't do anything to make up for the many others that you took." You reply furiously and take the water bottle from him. You take a few sips, appreciating the way it soothes the dryness of your chapped lips and throat.

"Said the woman who killed 10 of my men with a small knife." He replies, amused. His eyes linger on your mouth for a moment as you lick your lips, spreading the holy water across them. Feyd has a strong desire to lean in and kiss you; maybe even let you stick your little knife into him...

"It's not my fault they are so incompetent." You say, pushing past him and walking towards the fire. The night was starting to fall, and it was starting to get colder in the cave. You sit next to the fire, wrapping your arms around yourself and staring into the flames as you try to ignore HIS presence.

"Things I could do to you…" He mumbles to himself as you brush your arm against his. Your scent reaches his nostrils, and Feyd closes his eyes, inhaling it like a drug. He imagines things he wanted to do to you, things that would make him feel more closely that sweet scent coming from you.

Goosebumps appear on your skin as he takes a few steps closer to you and stands behind you. You try to ignore him, but the burning sensation where his initials are carved into your wrist keeps you from forgetting who the Harkonnen you are trapped with is. You tense as he drops to his knees next to you. He places his hand on your ankle, and you almost make a move to kick him when you feel his low growl in your ear.

"Relax. I just want to check your leg. You almost lost it in the mouth of a sandworm." With one hand, he pushes you to lean against his chest. You reluctantly let him, becoming more and more aware of the burning sensation in your leg.

He takes off your shoe and places it in your hands. He takes his time, slowly peeling off the layers of fabric. You are surprised to see that you already have a dressing—a dressing that is soaked in your blood. You shiver, feeling his fingertips on your skin as he unwraps the bandage. You hiss as he tears the fabric away from your slick skin, fully showing you your wound. A few centimetres deeper, and you wouldn't be able to move it.

"I need to disinfect this again. When we get back to base, we'll give you the anti-venom serum." He hums, leaving you for a moment. He walks over to the ship and pulls out a first-aid kit. You wince as you move so you can rest your back against the cave wall.

"I'm not coming back with you anywhere." You growl, still gripping your knife tightly, though in your current state, you realise you're not that much of a threat to him. He snorts at your response, kneeling down next to you. You bite your lip as he disinfects your wound and begins to bandage it.

"Hush, little warrior. You're talking nonsense because of the effects of the venom." His condescending tone makes your blood boil. You tilt your leg to make it harder for him to bandage you, and he just gives you a furious look before returning to his task without a word. You frown, staring at him. To be honest, you would rather expect him to stab you, cut you into pieces, and eat you than voluntarily take care of you and your health.

"Why are you doing this?" He stops what he's doing and looks at you like you're an idiot, like you asked the most absurd question possible.

He reaches for your hand. You tense up, ready to elbow him in the teeth, but you stop when you see him gently roll up the fabric of your linen shirt and wrap his hand around your wrist. You shiver as his thumb strokes the initials on your wrist.

"Can't you guess, a snarky little thing?" You remove your hand from his grip and hug your knees to your chest, curling into a ball and watching him warily.

"You do not know me. You kill people like me without blinking an eye."

"I do." He says, staring at you intensely, as if that fact had no significance and shouldn't affect your opinion of him. "And you kill people like me. I guess we can call it even."

"I do it only because you are invading our land and people! You are desecrating our holy places; you have no respect for our culture; you treat us worse than... don't look at me like that." You whisper the last sentence, moving closer to the wall as he leans into you. You swallow, shifting your gaze from his blue irises to his bloody hands. Large, rough, bloody hands. Bloody hands that could touch you so well in your dreams.

"Like what?" He asks hoarsely, reaching his hand to cup your cheek. You shiver as he spreads your burgundy blood there. You close your eyes and breathe shakily, which is your biggest mistake. He takes advantage of your distraction and leans down to lick the blood from your cheek.

He moves away from you. His eyes are locked on you as he wraps his lips around the finger of his other hand. You lick your lips involuntarily, watching him lick your blood from his fingers. You shake your head and clear your throat, moving away from him as far as you can, feeling one of the rocks dig into your back.

"Like that." You mutter, shifting your gaze to the flames in the fire.

"Why?"

"You know why. We… we are from two completely different worlds."

"Are we?" He asks, moving closer to you. You shiver as his arms wrap around you, and he rests his chin on your shoulder. His warm breath against your ear makes you feel warmer—something you don't want to admit to yourself and something he noticed the moment your shoulders shuddered slightly at the coldness emitting from the cave walls. You still hold the knife stubbornly in your hand, as if it would somehow protect you from Harkonnen.

You sit there in silence. You let him cuddle you, enjoying a little of the warmth he gives you. You sigh, trying to ignore how good you felt in his arms and how his scent enveloped you nicely, making your eyes close on their own. However, you try to remain vigilant, still unable to trust him in any way.

You sigh as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to his chest. He lies down on the blanket he spread for you earlier and covers you with the other one, making sure that you are comfortable and warm. You don't try to argue with him or get out of his arms. You know there's no point in fighting him. It's starting to get colder, and he's becoming a better source of heat with each minute you are in his arms.

You know that if anyone in your sietch saw you right now, cuddled up to the Harkonnen, sharing your body heat with him, you would be banished, maybe even sentenced to death for associating with the enemy.

You had very conflicted feelings about him. Your mind was screaming at you, telling you to come to your senses and plunge your knife into Harkonnen's heart while you had the chance, but your heart, a strange instinct, was drawing you to him, encouraging you to bury your face in the crook of his neck and listen to his soft breathing.

Your heart speeds up slightly as he reaches out to intertwine his hand with yours, the one that still holds the knife. He pulls you closer to him, his arms trapping you in an iron-tight embrace. His lips brush against your earlobe as he whispers to you, his husky tone of voice giving you goosebumps.

"Are you afraid of me, my little warrior?"

You swallow and close your eyes, grateful that he can't see your face, which is blushing involuntarily. You wonder what's wrong with you to react to him like this and why the mark of your soulmate, or rather, his initials on your wrist, burns you hotter than the sun of Arrakis has ever done.

"Of course I am. You're a Harkonnen. You are our greatest enemy. I hate you just as much as I fear you."

"And as much as you desire me?" A gasp escapes your lips as his other hand is suddenly under your clothes. You can't help but moan as his fingertips tease your bundle of nerves, gradually moving to the spot where your juices ungodly and humiliatingly leak out of you. Your water. "You think I can't smell you? That I don't see the way you tremble every time I touch you? The way warmth radiates from you every time I'm this close? I may not have known you here while awake, but I know you from our dreams. I recognise your every little reaction to me, to my touch, to my kisses. And what's more, my little warrior, you are breaking more than one law of your people. You give me your water in such a sinfully delicious way, and you don't even know my name."

You squirm in his arms, but he holds you tightly with his other hand, so all you do is rub against his hand in your feeble attempt to escape. You tighten your grip on the knife, but that's all you can do as he explores areas of you no one has ever had access to before. You're helpless, too dizzy from the sudden, intense pleasure he also gave you in your dreams. You never thought you could feel such... sensations while awake. Pleasant experiences.

"Maybe I should give you something you can moan and scream, hmm? Tell me, sweetheart, do you want to know whose fingers are touching you? Who do you give your precious water to? Who showed you things in our dreams that you would be ashamed to mention to your people?"

It's embarrassing. The way he made you melt under his touch. All you could do was moan and grind against his hand as he brought you immense pleasure. You move your hand with the knife and press the blade against his neck at the back of his head. You trace patterns on the skin of his bald head with your finger, resting your head on his shoulder as a wave of an unfamiliar feeling washes over you, cutting off all your senses. All you can feel is your core and his fingers as they continue to push into your depths, intensifying your indescribable pleasure.

"Feyd." He whispers into your ear, biting the lobe. You repeat his name stupidly, moaning and screaming it as he teases your over-aroused core, making your water flow out of you uncontrollably a second time, wetting your pants and his hand.

When he finally removes his hand from your pants, you shiver uncontrollably, curled up on his chest. You breathe quickly, staring at the cave's stone ceiling, waiting for your brain to finally reconnect with your body. You gasp as he pushes his fingers through your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself.

"Don't waste your water. Sweet, right, little warrior? When we get home, I'll spend a week between those beautiful legs. You'll wrap them tight around me, won't you? Will you dig your heels and claws into me, pressing my face against this wonderful source of water in this damn desert?" The way he talks to you, so blatant and disgusting, should make you stab a knife into his throat without a moment's hesitation. Instead, you let the blade fall next to his head as you tried to recover from what you just experienced. You're warm. Hot. And you want more. You need more.

He takes your hand and guides it to the bulge in his pants. You sigh, feeling all of his glory. And suddenly you feel extremely empty.

"Mmm… another time. Sleep." He mumbles and presses a kiss on your temple. His arms wrap painfully tight around you as he makes sure there is no space between you. The cocoon of blankets keeps you warm from your... last sensation at his hands. And you feel as embarrassed about it as you feel comfortable lying in the warmth.

You allow yourself to listen to his calm breathing. He don't fall asleep. Neither do you. You both wait to see who will faint from exhaustion first, and as much as you want to surrender to sleep, you know that the moment you close your eyes, you seal your fate forever. You will irreversibly become Harkonnen's prisoner.

Feyd's prisoner. Na-Baron's captive. You don't want this fate.

So close your eyes, relax your muscles, and slow down your breathing. Pretending to fall asleep is all you can fool him with, because yes, he saw you in your dreams in various situations and knew you inside and out, but he didn't know one thing. He didn't know what you looked like when you fell asleep.

You didn't know what he looked like when he was sleeping either, so you took a little risk with your not-so-well-thought-out plan, but you knew it was the only way to somehow escape from Harkonnen's grasp.

You wait a bit for him to relax, too. He puts his chin on your head, hugging you like some cuddly toy. But you know better than to assume that these monsters have some cuddly toys. If anything, teethers with spikes.

You lie there for a good few minutes, maybe even hours, going over your escape plan in your head. You breathe calmly, thinking about what you will do if you fail... you can always stab yourself if things don't go your way.

You quickly reach for the knife and plunge it into his knee. You twist it, damaging his joint, so he can't follow you, and you stand up. His screams and growls make you ignore the pain in your leg and run towards the ship that was blocking the exit. Somehow you manage to open it, your hands shaking as you unlock the door. Somehow he manages to get up and walk towards you, approaching dangerously fast, but you are more agile than him. You lock yourself inside the ship, break the window on the other side, and run forward.

You ignore his screams and threats and run deep into the desert, knowing full well that he won't catch up with you. The sandstorm had long ended, and the sun had risen again over Arrakis. You were in your territory; you were unstoppable.

You feel remorse, but only a little. You know perfectly well that the Harkonnens were incapable of love. You would be his prey and nothing else. You had to run away from him as far as you could.

And if he wanted to chase you? You would let him.

He could follow you wherever he wanted, but here on Arrakis, he could never catch you. And you really hoped you wouldn't have to run away from him to another planet.

[silkjade-archived]

alhaitham x mermaid! reader

⤀ warnings: fem! reader, no pronouns mentioned a/n: another thing sitting in drafts that I was actually saving for Mermay ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓇼 next ﾉ series masterlist

He was out at a cove, a little ways off from port ormos, studying newly discovered runes carved along the sea cavern walls. Your song was supposed to lure him to his watery grave, but….

“These earpieces are soundproof.” You’re caught by surprise when he responds in your language. His pronunciation is a little off, but to be fair, merfolk are an ancient race and haven’t been sighted in a very long time. As such, whatever linguistic knowledge that’s been preserved up until now is… distorted at best.

The two of you strike up a deal: you help him perfect the language of your people, and he’ll introduce you to the wonders of the world above. A fair exchange. You agree to meet at this same cove on nights of the full moon, although the interval between these meetings grow increasingly shorter, so much so that you find yourself visiting this human once a week. He’d always arrive just as the sun sets, skipping a chunk of crystal ore out into the sea, indicating his arrival.

“And what did you bring for me today?”

“These are called zaytun peaches.”

“Ooh they’re sweet! And jucier than bubble berries…”

“I wasn’t aware fruits could grow underwater.”

Alhaitham is a scholar with an eager mind, so when things peak his interest, it’s second nature to want to satiate his curiosities. He asks his questions, but never pushes you to answer. With time, you grow comfortable enough around him to openly divulge your life beneath the waves, and it becomes a wonderful exchange of language and culture.

“Would you like to come underwater?”

“I know you didn't like the harra fruit today, but I thought you'd given up trying to drown me. Soundproof earpieces remember?” he says, tapping said headphones.

You roll your eyes, pulling yourself further up out of the water, until your faces are only mere inches apart. That's not what you meant at all.

"They say a mermaid's kiss will give you the ability to breathe underwater...let me show you my world." Your voice, hypnotizingly low and sultry, immediately send alarms ringing in his head. Your fingers brush against his cheek, your touch feather light as you whisper into his naked ear, "Do you trust me?"

In the time Alhaitham had spent with you, he had never forgotten about the dangers of a mermaid's seduction. But at this proximity, with you so close and your voice so enchanting... he feels his head spin, like he's in some sort of trance where it's nigh impossible to deny you anything. As if by instinct, Alhaitham subconsciously reaches for the headphones hanging around his neck— his safety net, his life raft.

You pull away, sinking back into the waters. So he doesn't trust you. It's no surprise due to the nature of your very being, and to hope otherwise would be foolish. Still, its difficult to hide the irritation and hurt that laces your words before you bid him an awkward farewell.

Once you disappear into the sea, Alhaitham lets out a groan, burying his face in his hands. Next time you meet, if you decide to return at all, he'll remember to teach you about the intricacies of human courtship rituals.

a/n2: alhaitham is allergic to rizz ;\ this was supposed to be just a short brainrot but i had so many thoughts about this (and still have more unwritten) anyways i love mermay what a great month to be online, so much pretty art

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[anastaaaaaaasia]

The First Queen

Aegon II Targaryen x niece!Reader

Previous chapter

Second Chapter

Mother always says that the princess should not leave her chambers after midnight. No, it’s not because you are a girl and defenseless in front of this world. Your brothers hear the same thing. Rhaenyra explained to the three of you that the castle is full of people with different thoughts and they are not always pure and noble. You didn't fully understand her words, but you hoped to make sense of her words at a later age.

Also, my mother always said in secret that girls should not rely on men in all matters. You weren't a damsel in distress, you have the blood of a dragon in you.

Therefore, when the master did not help you find the book with Helaena, you decided to find it yourself, under the cover of darkness, when the old grumpy warden was not around.

Now only the pale flicker of the moon and a lonely burning candle, which you hid prudently, illuminate your chambers. You tried your best not to fall asleep ahead of time, by the way, it wasn’t as difficult as you thought before. The Red Keep was crowded with guests, noble lords and ladies, knights from all over the Seven Kingdoms and servants always bustling about. So the constant sound of someone's footsteps, hoarse voices and muffled chuckles tore you out of sleep and drove away dreams for a week.

There really was a reason. The day after tomorrow will be Helaena’s seventh birthday and in her honor your grandfather organized a tournament. The holiday will last seven days and seven nights. The same week also included a holiday in honor of the mother, one of the seven. Knowing Queen Alicenta's religiosity, the entire royal family will take part in this. You have never been particularly religious, but if it is necessary, you will do it. Maybe it really was important to her.

Your relationship with the queen was simple. You interacted with all her children quite well. Together we attended classes with Septa, learned High Valyrian, and went to the dragon pit. Your eggs with Aemond never hatched. You handled it better than Aemond. Therefore, the prince began to skip dragon control lessons more often and paid more attention to sword control. Sometimes you would run away with him and even make him a pinky promise that he would teach you some exercises later.

The sudden noise of the passage opening brought you out of your thoughts. You turned towards the source of the noise and saw Aemond with a candelabra in his hands, standing in a secret passage. You accidentally found out about this when you were mindlessly poking at the ornaments on a carved cabinet. Now the passage seemed best suited for your little scam.

You threw your robe over your nightie and grabbed your own candle. Turning to Aemond, you smiled and told him “Good night” “Good night,” he replied and you involuntarily began to giggle, trying not to make too much noise. Otherwise, you won’t be able to explain to your guard why a six-year-old prince is in your room in the middle of the night.

You carefully walked down the aisles towards Helaena's room. Each of you had your own goal that you wanted to achieve that night. But they all led you to one place, the royal library. It turns out that books cannot be taken into the room. Absurd, you thought then. Who is the royal library for then, if not for the royal family?

Aemond wanted a book about the history of Westeros before the beginning of the Targaryen reign, which the maester did not give him, citing the prince's young age. He complained that the book was missing a page about Queen Nymeria and her fleet. It was brazenly torn out. “Barbarians,” you told him then, but remembered this idea as a plan B if something went wrong.

Helaena was looking for something about her insects, some rare butterflies. She wanted to see the drawings and make her own book, filling it with new notes and observations.

You, the organizer of this illegal raid, wanted to find a book about the language of flowers. Long ago, Septa said that every flower carries a sacred meaning. This memory flashed in your mind when you heard about the organized tournament. For almost two weeks you persuaded your mothers, Princess Rhaenyra and Queen Alicent, to let you make wreaths. Favor to your knight. You were sure that someone would definitely ask for your favor. When persuasion did not work on your mothers, explaining the refusals by your young age. You have decided to choose a path that will definitely lead you to success. You went to King Viserys.

He listened to your request, even your argument, and laughed good-naturedly, saying that nothing in this world comes easy. You looked at each other with Helaena and mentally agreed that you would do anything to give your wreaths. Viserys asked for some help with a model of Old Valyria. He taught you how to carve the shapes and you added some details, truly enjoying your time with him. Your aunt made a small figurine of a butterfly and placed it on one of the temples, and with the help of an assistant, you cut out a horse with a knight and placed it on one of the streets of the model. You have received permission.

When a couple of days later you visited the king’s chambers again, you noticed that the figures remained in their places and smiled.

Now you and Aemond were approaching Helaena’s chambers. You carefully opened the secret passage and the girl ran into you with hugs. You hugged her back with one free arm.

“I thought you wouldn’t come already,” said Helaena. The poor princess walked around the room in circles to drive away sleep.

“But now we are here,” said Aemond and hugged his sister too

The three of you walked down the halls towards the library. It was a dark, dusty room, spiders weaved their webs in the corners of the walls, but quickly ran away when you approached with candles. After 10 minutes of wandering through narrow corridors, Aemond said.

“We are almost here, we need to push on this partition”

You gently pressed, but nothing happened. Then you hit her with all your might, and the door opened, showing you an empty library.

“Welcome,” you said with a smile, pleased with your success against the door. Harwin was right, sometimes you need strength, not cunning plans.

The three of you walked inside and each started looking for the right book. After looking through three bookcases, you didn’t find the one you needed. You were already frowning, but you weren’t ready to admit defeat. You want to find this damn book and you will find it. Continuing to look for the thing that had already been cursed five times, you did not notice Aemond behind you.

“Need help?” He asked.

You suddenly jumped and hit your hand on the shelf. Turning around, you saw Aemond standing with that very book. It was big, you didn't expect it.

“I found it on the table” He said. Of course, the table. How could you not look there? Of course, it’s good to punish yourself, but the main thing is that, even with the help of your friend, you had the book.

“Thank you, you really know this place like the back of your hand,” you said and hugged your friend. He chuckled slightly and handed you the book. There was a whole collection of essays about various plants. After flipping through the book, you realized that you only needed 8 pages You didn’t want to carry this Talmud with your fragile hands, and suddenly an idea struck you. Plan B.

“May the seven and the old master forgive me,” you said and looking at your friends who were already standing with their books, you began to tear out pages. Aemond clearly did not approve of this, but did not say anything. Heileina giggled quietly into her fist, you smiled at her. Suddenly you heard the sounds of metal armor and someone's heavy footsteps. You quickly tore out the remaining pages. Your relatives were already standing at the secret passage.

Suddenly the door began to open, and having thought through all the options, you waved to your friends to go ahead and close the passage. Your nightie and robe didn't have pockets, so you couldn't think of anything better to do than stuff the sheets between your nightie and your body. A ribbon around your waist would prevent them from falling, and this way you won’t compromise yourself with the book you ruined. No evidence, no accusation. Really?

In addition, the idea of hiding such desirable sheets in the chest area did not come out of nowhere. You were certainly a smart girl for your age. But one day the day before, while walking along the corridors of the castle, you heard the head maid telling her subordinate that the main strength of women is between the legs and in the chest. Somewhere in the depths of your soul, you knew that this was not exactly what you were thinking about when you hid your trophy, but it helped. Perhaps you will ask your mother later the real meaning of that phrase.

“Princess?,” a male voice called out to you. You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at the figure in the doorway. You breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that it was none other than Ser Harwin. “What are you doing here at this late hour?” he inquired and approached you, crouching down to be on the same level with you.

You couldn’t say and just blinked your eyes, smiling guiltily.

“How about you tell me the reasons for your night on the way to your room?” suggested Harwin. You energetically waved your head and you began to walk to your room.

“I was looking for a book about the language of flowers,” you admitted, blushing a little. Harwin arched an eyebrow.

"At midnight? This is probably really an urgent matter.”

“Yes,” you screamed slightly. “There will soon be a tournament in honor of Helaena and with the permission of the king, she and I can give favor to the knight, if he asks, of course,” you said the last words a little hesitantly and confusedly. You didn’t know why, but you always trusted him. His kind eyes always calm you down, and his smell… he smells like home, even now he smelled of flowers, aroma of oils and candles. He smelled like your mother, maybe that’s why you always felt calm with him and you could tell about all your thoughts, even the most secret ones.

“I'm more than sure everyone will be flattered by the attention from you, princess.” He smiled.

“You are very kind to me Ser Harwin, I hope so too.”

“But why did you still go looking for information at night?”

“The Old Meister didn't give me the book, so I decided to watch it when he wasn't around,” you admitted awkwardly. You had already walked most of the way to your room and suddenly a single leaf rustled out from under your nightgown and landed on the stone floor lock.Harwin noticed this and grinned.

“I see this is the information you were looking for?” he picked up the piece of paper and ran his gaze over it. “You don’t have to ruin the books, princess.” He said softly.

“It was necessary, otherwise I wouldn’t understand what flowers look like,” you sighed and lowered your gaze to the floor. You were ashamed. But not because you ruined the book, but because Harwin caught you with the evidence. “Please don't tell mom about this,” you begged him.

“It will be our little secret if you promise me that you will return the sheets to the book after the tournament,” he smiled softly and you shook your head, accepting the offer.

You were already standing outside your room when he said “Good night, princess.” And I’m more than sure that many knights will be happy to receive your favor,” he smiled and walked further down the corridor. You went to bed with a smile, thinking that tomorrow would be a wonderful day.

Two hours. You spent two hours with Helaena to find all the necessary flowers. The bright sun rose above the Red Castle. You were wandering around the royal garden to get the necessary plants for your wreaths. Or to be more precise, mostly for yours. When Helaena limited herself to one wreath, you wanted to make several. For the knight, for his brother and his loved ones.

After your grandfather allowed you to make a favour, your mother explained the rules to you. You can only give one publicly during the tournament, the knight must ask for it himself, and then you will throw the wreath on his spear. In public. Behind the doors, you just wanted to please your loved ones and friends, so you did even more.

Now you and Helaena were sitting in the garden, you were digging in the flowerbed, but for different reasons. Helaena collected all the flowers and was now looking for insects to study them. You tried to pull out the flower as carefully as possible, after several unsuccessful attempts. Aemond was sitting under a tree next to you, reading a book about the history of Westeros. You talked about different things from time to time.

“What was the name of Visenya's dragon again?” asked Helaena. She was so busy catching the centipede that she missed half the words.

“Vhagar, she is the biggest dragon in the world,” Aemond responded admiringly.

“Yes, Aunt Leina flies it now,” you added. It was true. At the age of 15, your aunt tamed the oldest and largest dragon alive. Now she and Damon live overseas and rarely appear. The last time they were when you were three years old. Now they won't even come for Helaena's birthday. You thought that if they showed up, you would also make Damon a wreath.

“How is your training with the Aemond sword?” you asked while weaving the first wreath. It was intended specifically for Aemond, but he was not yet aware of it. You chose small branches of thuja for him as a sign of eternal friendship, an orchid in honor of his diligence and perseverance in various matters, and a bell as a sign of gratitude for everything he did for you.

“Okay, Ser Criston really pays me a lot of attention and even helps me train extra, he said that I would be an excellent warrior,” Aemond said with a little pride and sparkles in his eyes. You were happy for your friend, really.

Criston Cole was the queen's close friend and protector. You often watched them during training. Even though Criston treated your brothers and you somewhat coldly, it never became personal. You thought it would be nice to make Criston a wreath as a thank you for training with Aemond. If your friend is happy, then you are happy. Stockrose buds signified gratitude, thistles meant nobility and epigea in honor of best wishes. As you were finishing the second wreath, Ser Harwin approached.

“Can I have a word with you, princess?” he asked. You smiled and brushed off the skirt of your dress and walked up to him.

“What is it, Ser Harwin?”

“Remember yesterday’s conversation?” he began. You thought he was talking about a book and you abruptly interrupted him.

“I’ll return it, I promise, but for now I need the sheets,” you jabbered. He just grinned.

“No, I’m not talking about that, I trust you and will keep your secret. I'm talking about the tournament and favour. I wanted you to be the first to know about this. I will be performing at the tournament tomorrow and would be very happy if one princess gave me a wreath.” He looked at you tenderly. You smiled and nodded your head vigorously.

“I will make the best wreath in all of Westeros for you, Ser Harwin.”

“I have no doubt” and after that he left, and you began to sort through the bouquet of flowers in search of the right ones. You had a knight who would ask for your attention. You were happy, and when you said that you would do the best, you weren’t lying. You do.

An idea instantly appeared in your head. A wreath of green, white, red and blue plants, like the color of the coat of arms of his house. Blue bells as a sign of gratitude, white clover as a symbol of his oath and devotion to your family, green coreopsis as a tribute to all the joy he helps you experience. And the final plant, a red rose as a symbol of platonic and sincere love. The book said that every red flower meant love, so there was no problem with that.

While Helaena continued to search for new centipede specimens for her collection, Aemond went off to practice with the sword. You finished the fourth and fifth wreath, for your older brother Jace and dad. They were similar, they had blue violets as a symbol of loyalty, a few branches of straw as a sign of unity and red and yellow roses in honor of all the joyful moments you experienced together.

Satisfied with your work, you lay down on your back and looked at the blue cloudless sky. Only after closing your eyes for a moment in bliss did you realize that you had forgotten something. The answer came unexpectedly and quite unusually. Suddenly the sun was covered with something, and before you could open your eyes you heard a dragon’s roar. The body of a small golden dragon rushed over the garden. Sunfyre. His body shone under the rays, and his pinkish wings flapped vigorously, holding the dragon and his rider in the skies. How could you forget? You didn't make a wreath for Aegon. For the Sunfyre Rider and your beloved uncle.

He is now 10 and you are 6. Recently, you began to move away and there were no longer the usual walks in the garden or playing together. He spent more and more time in the dragonpit with his dragon. And you, not having a winged lizard, were doing other things with Aemond. Sometimes you still met in class and Aegon spoke in fascination about his winged friend. He grew fast enough that he can now lift his rider into the skies and fly over King's Landing.

Despite the fact that you began to communicate less directly, you still watched him furtively. I heard him laugh as he talked to Jace. How he encouraged Luke to go to his dragon, how he looked at the other daughters of noble lords during holidays and festivals. You wanted to be in their place, you wanted him to dance and laugh with you.

And you felt something, something light, but at the same time oppressive. You then described the symptoms to your mother and she laughed and replied that it was falling in love. You remembered this, but never said the name of your crush, answering simply, “Every princess and lady should have her own secrets.”

After sorting through the pages from the book about the language of flowers, you chose two flowers that would be best suited for your final wreath. White and purple lilac. Symbols of first love and purity of thoughts. You remembered seeing these flowers in one of the flower beds nearby. You and Helaena walked through the garden twice until you found that very place.

“Damn flowers, I can’t pick them out,” you said desperately and sighed. You wanted to maintain the maximum length of the stem to make the wreath more luxurious.

“Let’s dig a little and you can easily pull out the flower even by the roots,” Helaena said casually. After spending the day in the garden, you were already covered in dirt and plant sap, your dresses were ruined and your hands were dirty. There was nothing to lose. You started to dig up the ground when Helaena exclaimed joyfully

“The Dornish centipede! I want it!," after these words, she looked at you and you saw her admiration and genuine delight. After your nod, you began hunting for the insect. It crawled underground and crawled back out at the other end of the flowerbed. Three minutes later, the flowerbed was hopeless spoiled, and you laughed loudly, holding the trophy in your hands.

Helaena looked at the centipede in fascination, and you collected the flowers that were already lying. Shaking off the dirt for the sake of appearance, you walked into the castle laughing. You decided not to push your luck and escape from the scene of the crime, even though you were princesses, you didn’t want to meet the stern faces of your mothers.

When you entered the room, you finished the wreath, but something was missing. You looked around and went to the closet, opening it you pulled out the ribbon from the corset. It was as golden as Sunfyre. You carefully wove it into the flowers and smiled looking at all your work.

This day began for you with loud cheers and singing songs in the corridors of the castle. This cacophony of sounds helped you wake up early in the morning and you couldn’t fall back to sleep. After getting dressed with the help of the maids, you were escorted to your parents’ room. Your family was already here. Your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, was already sitting at the table, carefully wiping the cheeks of your younger brother Luke. He was a restless boy, with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes whenever something caught his attention. Unruly curls curled in different directions, no matter how much the maids tried to style them.

Opposite them sat Laenor, who was enthusiastically telling Jace something. From the fragments of sentences you were able to understand that it was about Triarchy. Your dad took part in those battles and you have already heard stories, including from your grandfather, Corlis. Despite being completely sure that Jace had already heard about this, he still listened in fascination, resting his chin on his hand. You laughed a little at that. He looked like a girl in love, maybe even like you when you looked at Aegon. But you will never admit it.

“What makes you laugh so much, sister?” Jace asked. Your dear brother got drunk and you exchanged glances with Luke.

“Nothing, Jacaerys,” you said his name deliberately louder and smiled innocently, batting your eyes innocently a couple of times.

“Don't call me by my full name,” he sighed loudly.

“Don't like your full name, Jacaerys? ” Luke said and laughed after. You chuckled too while Jace frowned even more. Your mom told you how Jace desperately tried to teach you to say his name and after that you never missed a single opportunity to hurt him. Luke later joined in, but it never escalated into bullying or bullying. You loved each other, your brothers were your friends and your support.

“Okay, calm down kids, let’s start eating already,” your father said and looked at each other with your mother, they both grinned. Breakfast began and, as usual, there was a lot of talking and laughter. Laenor will be participating in the tournament today and he told you in secret that he will ask your mother for favor while she is not listening. You giggled slightly. After breakfast, you approached your father as he stood on the balcony with a glass of wine.

“Father, I have something for you,” you began, moving closer to him.

“And what is this?,” you handed him the wreath and smiled slightly.

“You said that you would ask mom for a wreath, but I wanted to do something for you too,” he was slightly surprised and examined the wreath. The flowers were neatly woven and the ribbons shimmered in the light.

“Thank you, this is beautiful. Will you put it on me?” he squatted down and you chuckled as you placed the wreath on his head. He hugged you and you buried yourself in his chest. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. You stood there for a few minutes while he lightly patted your head. You didn’t know, but at that moment Rhaenyra was looking at you from behind the curtain and smiling warmly. She has a family that understands each other, for her this was the main thing in this life.

You caught up with your brother in the corridor while he was walking to his room.

“Jacaerys!” you exclaimed and laughed. You ran after him and when you caught up, you tried to catch your breath. He just playfully rolled his eyes and chuckled.

“Don't be like the old master, Jace.”

“Oh, you know my name” and after that you laughed together. The maids walked past you and also smiled slightly.

“Of course I know, Jacaerys. Even though you can’t participate in tournaments yet, I want to give you a wreath, I’m more than sure you will become a good knight and protect our family on Vermax,” you babbled joyfully and handed him the wreath. He was slightly surprised and thanked you afterwards. “It looks like the wreath I gave my father,” you didn’t notice, but he frowned slightly at the word “father.” Jace quickly changed the subject.

“I'm lucky to have such siblings,” he said.

“I’m glad too, maybe in the future we will have more brothers or sisters.”

“Why do we need more? We feel so good”

“Well, the queen has 4 children.”

“Do you think we will have another sibling?”

“Oh, I'm pretty sure of that,” you laughed and after saying goodbye to your brother, you ran to the other wing of the castle to find Aemond. And Jace remained standing in the middle of the corridor and wondered if you needed this family extension.

You found Aemond in the library. He was already reading another book, about Ancient Valyria. You were sure that it belonged to your grandfather, Viserys I. Based on it, he built his model of the city; you noticed this book back on the day when, together with Helaena, they asked for permission to bypass the decision of their mothers.

“I knew I’d find you here,” you smiled sincerely at your friend. Aemond looked away from the book and met yours. While you were talking to each other, you managed to hide the sheets and return them to their rightful original form. place, almost

“Were you looking for me?” His eyebrows were slightly knitted and his eyes looked interested. Aemond's gaze went down to your hands, which were holding a wreath of orchids and bells. “Are you so excited about the tournament that you’ll be wearing a wreath with you all day?” he joked lightly and your cheeks turned purple. Did you really have some kind of obsession? Perhaps, but you won't admit it.

“No, to be honest this is for you”

"For me?" his eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you could see interest and desire in his eyes.

"Yes for you." You spoke with confidence and held it out. Aemond looked at your gift for a minute, felt the thuja branches and smelled the aroma of the flowers. He slowly looked up at you.

“But I’m not a warrior, I don’t even have a dragon.” He spoke slowly, hesitantly, and even confusedly in some places. You knew about his complexes, you had them too. But now was the time to take care of Aemond and not of himself.

“But I believe, no, I know that one day you will have a dragon, just the way you want. And I doubt that you are not a warrior. You already hold a sword better than my brothers and even Aegon.” You remembered that one time Aemond defeated his older brother and Aegon ended up falling into a puddle. You will forever remember his wet hair and displeased expression on his face. But even like that, you still liked him. You smiled at the memories.

Aemond at that moment continued to look at the wreath until you took it from his hands. With an innocent smile, you placed the tangle of flowers on his head and giggled. He smiled and hugged you tightly, saying “Thank you.”

You hugged for a few minutes until Queen Alicenta walked in. You didn’t hear the sound of footsteps or the sound of a door opening. She was pleased to see her son happy, but it hurt that happiness was given to him by Rhaenyra’s child.

After waiting a couple of minutes, she coughed quietly to attract attention. You and Aemond abruptly pulled away from each other and looked at Alicent. "My queen." You said with a polite smile. Despite being close to her children, you still felt uncomfortable in her presence. You felt the tension within your family, your home.

The Red Keep was buzzing with rumors inside, they spread faster than the fires in the Royal Forest. Despite your young age, you weren't stupid. You understood that the queen’s glances towards your mother, comments about her marriage to your father and disapproving glances from the entire Hightower family when they came to the capital were by no means out of great love. You understood, but you still can’t find the roots of all this confrontation until now.

You heard rumors that Queen Alicenta, your adopted grandmother, wore a green dress to your parents' wedding. You thought about this for a long time, but unsuccessfully found answers to your questions. They multiplied at breakneck speed. Then, during your lesson with the septa, you learned that the color of the Hightower came from the light of the lighthouse in Oldtown. It glowed green when the Hightower troops gathered for war. But who did she fight with on her wedding day? And the more important question is, is this war still ongoing?

“Aemond, I think it’s time to start getting ready for the tournament. Y/N, I think your mom is looking for you too.” She said it politely. You realized that you were required to leave and therefore, with a final nod towards Aemond, you headed to your room.

You walked to your room and didn’t even suspect that the queen was watching you with a heavy gaze. An hour later you were already sitting on the royal stand. On the left side sat your dear friend Helaena, and on the right was Aegon. Your wreaths lay on the pedestal and you constantly giggled in anticipation of the start of the tournament. You vigorously clapped for each knight that was introduced while Aegon sat with a straight face.

“Why are you all so excited? It's just a tournament.” Aegon leaned over and asked you with some indignation.

“Because today Helaena and I will give favor to the knights for the first time,” you said casually and smiled. This was a small victory for you, you are one step closer to being considered adult girls. Aegon snorted and you looked at him again, the corners of your lips slowly began to droop, “What?”

“This is stupid,” the prince said with a grin, “Most knights throw away these things as soon as the tournament ends.”

Meanwhile, your father and a knight from the House of Baratheon were already galloping on horseback on the field. The bright sound of horse hooves drowned out everything around and forced you and Aegon to lean closer to each other to hear the words.

“And so what, I’ll at least give the knight a favor and he’ll wear it with pride during the battle.” you said defensively. You were absolutely not prepared for the fact that your secret object of affection was making fun of your desires.

“The wreath has no effect on anything, I’m more than sure that your knight will lose.” Aegon grinned, and you were already seething inside. It was unpleasant, it was painful. You pointedly turned to him and crossed your arms over your chest.

“At least my knight will have a wreath, and you won’t.” You whispered and went back to watching the game. Aegon wanted to say something else, but at that moment the next pair of contestants were announced. Ser Harwin and Ser Criston. You haven’t had time to give the latter a wreath yet, but you promised yourself to do it after the tournament. Both knights rode up to your bed.

“Queen, I would like to ask for your favor and give me your favor.” Criston said, Alicenta walked up without further ado and threw a wreath on his spear with a slight smile. You were worried because you knew you were next. Helaena has already given her wreath to her maternal uncle.

“Princess Y/N, today I would like to fight for your honor. Will you do me this honor?” Harwin smiled and bowed, a smile appearing on your face again. You stood up from your seat and looked at your mom. He nodded lightly in approval and you carefully placed the wreath on his spear.

“May the gods be favorable to you, Ser Harwin!” You smiled and the court was filled with applause. You truly were a ray of light in this castle.

“Your knight will lose,” Aegon continued to tease you. Aemond, hearing your conversation, just sighed heavily. You ignored the eldest prince as best you could. Why are boys always like this?

This round of the tournament was long, over and over again their spears broke, their horses roared as if on a battlefield. And then something happened that no one expected. They started fighting on the ground. It was quite a fierce fight. Few people knew, but at that moment Criston Cole, the queen's loyal defender, provoked Ser Harwin not only with weapons, but also with words.

Suddenly the entire court fell silent. You returned your gaze to the field, Harwin lay in terrible agony, the maesters were already running to his body. Criston stood, but his appearance was no better. Broken lips, blood and sweat ran down his dark hair. Your knight was carried away by servants, it was obvious that he was very seriously wounded. And you were wounded the next second.

“I told you your knight would lose. And the wreaths are of no use here; it didn’t help Harwin at all.” Aegon said with a smirk and you felt a burning resentment, tears gradually began to form in the corners of your eyes. You slowly looked up at him.

“That means you won’t get your wreath.” You said through clenched teeth and apologized and ran to your chambers. You cried in the room for a couple of hours. This day should have been one of the happiest in your young life, but in fact it turned into the most terrible. With the help of your handmaidens, you learned that Ser Harwin had injured ribs. And you began to cry even more, but the tears gradually subsided and a different feeling came. Anger.

You knew that at court you cannot directly express your feelings. Therefore, grabbing the last two wreaths, you walked with a firm gait towards Queen Alicenta’s chambers. You knew you'd find him there. And you were right. Seeing his face, you clutched the wreath that was intended for him, for Cole.

“I thought you were a noble man.” You said it again through clenched teeth and looked at him with a look full of hatred. Throwing a wreath at him, you hastened to retire to the garden, where you can be alone. Only now, in addition to the previous flowers, there was a hastily and carelessly woven orange lily.

“Oh, hatred and disgust,” said Larys. Cole, who had previously not understood anything that had happened, just looked at another close associate of the queen with incomprehension.

"What?"

“The orange lily is a sign of hatred and disgust, the princess knows how to express her indignation skillfully, albeit openly,” Larys chuckled.

At this moment, you were already sitting under the tree and began to tear small petals from the purple lilac, from the sign of your first love. You weren’t crying anymore, but there was still a pain in your chest. You sat in the garden, lost in your thoughts until sunset. The sun slowly set behind the horizon and the dark orange rays dimly illuminated everything around. You sighed and took one last look at the half-destroyed wreath and went back to your room.

Little did you know that at that moment Aegon was watching you from the shadows. The prince carefully picked up the wreath of purple and white lilacs that were so similar to his eyes and hair and sighed. He really messed up this time. Why did he even listen to the older guys who said that in order to attract a girl’s attention you need to tease her in every possible way and call her names. Why did he even listen to them? He felt so stupid. But one thought never left his head, he must fix this. Even though his pride and shame will prevent him from doing it directly, he must find a way.

The next morning, you found a wreath of white calla lilies and red tulips under your door. There was no note or clue as to who it was from. But after a night of more tears, you smiled for the first time. Today was a holiday in honor of Mother. And the wreath went perfectly with your dress in Targaryen colors.

Meanwhile, when the queen woke up her eldest son, she saw a pile of destroyed flowers that he was trying to hide in his closet. She didn't understand anything, but decided not to ask. She also did not know that under the pile of flowers lay carelessly torn sheets where it was written “King Jaehaerys presented his future wife with a simple but meaningful gift. Alysanne held a large bouquet of white callas as a symbol of respect and admiration, and the small buds of red tulips decorating the bouquet spoke of the feelings of the future king, of his love for her.”

Later, at the service at the Temple of the Seven, you appeared with a wreath on your head. You smiled and happily told Aemond about your morning discovery. Aegon stood at a distance, he smiled and constantly looked in your direction. You will be his Alysanne, even if it takes more time. He will no longer listen to other people's advice, not in matters that concern you.

Queen Alicent was deeply immersed in ceremony and celebration. But when she saw you, something clicked in her. She saw your head decoration and, having carried out all the logical chains, she just grinned.

The only people who were unhappy on Mother's Day were the gardeners of the royal garden. Next to one destroyed flowerbed, a second one appeared. Now the callas will not sprout here for a long time.

Taglist: @blurpleuni-squid

Note:

if you want to be tagged in this series, please write in the comments)

All this time I was thinking about what details I wanted to add to this series and breaking down the ideas into chapters. So far, according to preliminary estimates, there will be about 25 chapters. The next third chapter will be the last, which tells about the relatively carefree childhood of the main characters. The fourth chapter will be devoted to Driftmark and the beginning of active actions between the reader and Aegon)

Аnd honestly, I don't like writing warnings because there might be spoilers for the entire chapter:) Therefore, I think it necessary to say that the story will be a kind of mix of the serial and book versions.

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile XXIV

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Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: I... I wanted to wait a little moment before publishing the first chapter of season II. But, as you know me, I'm not a patient being, so I shall give you this chapter sooner than expected. I hope you will enjoy it, season II is going to be... wild, I think, but I hope you will love it as you loved season I. TW: Rape mention, smut, blood, knife play, cheating

“ Once again, the police have found a body, the right eye missing and a smile carved into the victim’s flesh. This had been going on for years, yet, the police, led by John Felleur, still haven't found a single clue about the serial killer that haunts New Orleans’s streets. The killer seems to attack men only, so my dear fellow gentlemen, you should stay vigilant!”

“ He loves the attention doesn’t he?”

You looked at Alice, as Alastor's voice was coming through the radio.

So many things have happened since your wedding, three years ago.  Alastor and you had succeeded in creating a bond between your two souls, making you elated. The three spirits that helped you were very interested in what would happen and sometimes, Legba or Baron Samedi would pop up next to you, wanting to talk.

Your control over your power has been getting better and better. You didn’t need to raise your hands anymore if you wanted to create your shield or telekinesised something, you just needed to think about it. You could cast your soul out of your body for one hour now. You could see things in another room thanks to your eyes or your shadow. Your shadow, which you inherited from Alastor’s power, was easily tamed. It was even useful, but it would always have some kind of fight because Alastor’s shadow would tease it.

Talking about Alastor, he has become stronger and more popular. His killing methods have become even more sadistic, more evil and cunnier but you loved him for that. You still killed pigs, Alastor would stalk them, finding every information about them if they were worth killing.  He always chose the filthiest of mankind, making it a pleasure to dispose of them. 

He never injured himself, he didn’t want you to use your healing power which created a huge argument between the two of you. You would hurt yourself to learn more about your healing abilities which almost made him snap. That day, you made a deal with him, Alastor would hurt himself on purpose and you would only heal what he said you could. You didn’t like the idea but it was mostly small cuts, nothing life threatening. 

Or you would heal yourself after Alastor has played with your body and a blade.

As skillful as he was as a killer, he was now a popular radio’s host. He would get invited to fancy soirée, always bringing you with him. He would dine with high society, finding new prey there. Sometimes, Alice would ask for your skills, telling you about new people to kill because of their sins.

Speaking of Alice, your best friend was wed.  After the incident with Larry, she decided to find a nice man so she could settle down with and she founded Tray Felleur. He was from John’s family, a cousin or something, you didn’t care. He was a rich man, he looked familiar, the Felleur’s genes must be strong. You were very worried when she told you her choice, but after meeting him, you felt a little more relieved. He was a nice, intellectual man. Alice told you he never forced her to do anything, letting her do what she wanted.

Which means she would meet Alyzéee, who was also wed to a man. Most of the time, Alice would wait for Tray to leave for work and Alyzée would come so they could still live their romance. She would feel guilty, sometimes wondering if she should tell her husband where her true feelings were. You and Alastor always said it was a bad idea, you didn’t want her to be in trouble, you asked her to wait a little longer. What for? You didn’t know yourself, you just… You could feel it in your bones, she had to keep her secret.

“ Well, Alastor has always been like this right?” you smiled at her, giving her a piece of cake. “ How are you feeling?” you asked her, worried. These days, she seemed paler than usual, always tired.  

“ Tired, but that might be because of yesterday’s soirée.” she winked at you. “ You should have seen Alyzée’s dress, she looked divine.”

You smiled at her, listening to her talk, fanning yourself. This summer was really hot for some reason. You gossiped together, talking about what was going on in New Orleans.

“ You don’t need another killing?” you asked as you drank fresh water. The last man she wanted dead was a man who had raped two women in two months. You enjoyed his screams more than you thought. 

“ It seems like you are the one who needs to kill something.” she mocked you. You rolled your eyes at her, you didn’t feel the need to kill like Alastor would, but it's been a long time since you sunk your hand into someone's eyeballs. 

You turned your head toward the entrance. He was home.

You smiled when you heard the door being opened. You stood up as you heard him walking into the living room. 

“ How do you always know when he is coming home! Each time, it’s a different hour!” asked Alice, always shocked when you could tell when Alastor was coming home.

“ Good evening, Alice. What an unhappy expecting surprise to you here.” said Alastor with a mocking smile. 

“ Even after all those years, you are still not a gentleman.” 

‘ Only with my wife, right, my love?’

You smiled when you heard Alastor’s thoughts inside your mind. It was a new power you both acquired when you bond your souls togethers. You could talk in each other’s mind which created funny moments.

Be nice, Alastor. Alice is staying for dinner.

‘Of course, she is.’

You walked toward Alastor and kissed his cheeks before going into the kitchen. You have been living together since your honeymoon, buying furnitures, painting the walls. You still haven’t finished one of the bedrooms. 

“ Unfortunately, I think I can’t stay with you for dinner.”

“ What? But I was going to make your favorite dish!” you shouted, going back into the living room with a pan in your hand. “ Did Alastor say something?”

“ Honey…”

“ Do you think he could make me change my opinion?” she raised an eyebrow.

“ Right, so why? Are you still feeling unwell?” 

“No… It’s just…” She sat on the sofa, sighing. You sat next to her, taking her hands while Alastor was looking at her with his usual smile. “ I am pregnant.”

….

“ What?” you said in unison with Alastor.

“ You told me he never forced himself on you!” You stood up, your eyes flashing red. Alice just stared at you in silence. You knew she saw your eyes flashing red multiple times but she never asked you anything about it. 

“ Do you need us to kill him?” asked calmly Alastor.

“ Calm down, the both of you. He didn’t force himself on me. I wanted a child, so this has to happen. He asked me multiple times if this is what I wanted, I said yes. He didn’t do anything bad.” she stood up, taking your hands in hers. “ But there is something worrying me. I think Alyzée is being stalked by someone… She says she feels like she is being watched.”

You looked at Alastor who seemed in deep thoughts. 

What do you think?

‘ Alyzéee is the daughter of the mayor’s who have been in power forever. It’s not surprising.’

Yes, but why now?

‘ That is something we shall need to discover.’

“ We will take a look at it. You, stay at home, we wouldn’t want a future mother to get hurt, right?” he smirked at her.

You looked at Alice.

“ So, you… are pregnant. Is it good news?”

“ Yes, I’m happy.” she put her hands on her belly with a shy smile. “ I’m going to be a mother.”

You screamed in joy before rushing into hugging her. You squeezed her against you, being mindful of her belly even if she was still not showing yet.

“ How long have you known?”

“Maybe… three months?”

You looked at her with a beaming smile.

“ Is it really good news, really?” you grabbed her shoulders. “ Please, do not lie to me.”

“ It is. Alyzée knows and she is happy for me. In a way… We think of it as our child.” She smiled at you, her cheeks flushed.

“ Well, congratulations ladies. This child will be happy to have Alyzée as its mother. I’m not sure about you..”

“ Fuck you, Alastor.”

“ See ?”

You smiled as you hugged her one more time. You walked her toward the door, making sure she was alright. She smiled at you, she seemed really happy about sharing her pregnancy’s news with you. Was she scared you would judge her? You promised her you would protect Alyzée from whatever was stalking her.

“ Nothing will hurt your family.” you said to her. Alice looked at you, taking your hand in yours.

“ You know, you are part of my family as well.” she whispered to you. “ Even Alastor but never let him know that.”

“ I heard you.”

“ Fuck off!” she shouted before looking at you. “ Please, be careful. If you need anything, ask me.”

You nodded before watching her go. You looked as the cab took her home. You went back home, looking at Alastor with an exciting smile. He was looking at you, tilting his head.

“ Why are you so happy?”

“ Alice is going to be a mother! “

“ Poor child.”

“ Alastor.”

You both went into the kitchen, preparing your dinner. If someone were to see the both of you, they would mostly think they were dreaming. You were moving everything you needed in the air with your power, the plates placing themselves on the tables, the vegetables being cut while Alastor was boiling the water.

You smiled when you saw Alastor’s shadow begin, once more, to tease yours. They were fighting each other, you could see them on the wall. You looked at the clock, you weren’t hungry yet…

“ Alastor, should we finish painting the last bedroom?”  you asked, taking off your apron. “ I’m not hungry yet.”

You watched as he looked at his watch and then he nodded, following you upstairs. You walked in and looked at the remaining wall you needed to finish. You took a paintbrush and dept it in the paint. You looked as Alastor took off his vest, staying in a light white shirt. 

You both painted before an idea emerged in your mind. You smirked as you looked at Alastor who was telling you about his day. You took your brush and called his name making him look at you and threw paint on his face.

“ … Are you sure you want to play this game, darling?”

“ What game?” you tilted your head, smiling innocently. Your smile widened when you saw his smirk. 

“ Mhn…”

You yelped when you felt the shadow held you while Alastor was painting your cheeks, smirking at you. You laughed, trying to escape from the shadow. Yours was jumping on Alastor’s, taking it away from you. You looked as both shadows were happily fighting each other. You quickly took paint and threw it at Alastor as he shielded himself with his arms.

You laughed, this life was the one you would protect.

After washing yourself, you went back to the kitchen to finish your cooking. You sat on the table and began eating.

“ How should we find Alyzée’s stalker ? Should we send our shadow?” you asked as Alastor made you eat from his fork.

“ Oh, my love, no.  Do we really need to waste our power for this?” he laughed, waving his hand in the air. “ We need to kill John, remember?” 

“ How could I forget? But right now, he isn’t a threat. The stalker could be, what if he found out about Alice’s relationship?” you asked as he wiped the sauce from your lips. 

“ If this is what you wish for, we shall take care of Alyzée’s stalker. It shouldn’t take long, nor be difficult.” he said as he leaned against his chair. You smiled at him, making him raise an eyebrow at you. “ What?”

“ You are so sure of yourself, I admire that.”

“ Because no one could make me doubt my abilities,” he said before kissing your forehead. “ You should stay with Alyzée, try to see if you feel something when you are with her.”

“ Should I cast an eye on her?” you tilted your head. It was a new power you acquired, you could watch someone. It was like your eyes were watching from above. 

“ You aren’t in full control of it and it’s tiring you faster than your other powers. Just keep Alyzée some company, tell me anything that is strange.”

You nodded, you closed your eyes. It was going to be easy.

—---

“ Yes, Alice told me you would… watch me?”

“ It's just like we are used to, hanging out. I’m just being a little more… watchful while we are together, Alyzée.”

Alyzée was in front of you, her long red hair moving with each movement she made, her deep blue eyes watching you, worried. You really were surrounded by beautiful people.

“ I’m more worried about Alice, I don’t want her to be sick because she is worried for me.” she said as she drank her tea. You looked at her, drinking your hot chocolate. You weren’t very close with Alzyée, she was more of an acquaintance but the conversations were always lovely with her. 

“ Alice is strong, no need to worry. Right now, you might be in danger.” you said to her. She shrugged with a little smile.

“ Nothing that I’m not used to.”

You looked at her, observing her.

“ How is your wedding going, Alyzée?”

“ It is going well. My husband is always out working, which makes me have more time with Alice, so it’s a win-win situation. We don’t really talk to each other, we don’t… really care about each other.  I might be envious of Alice’s wedding, they are like friends.” she said with a sad smile.

“ You know she only loves you.”

“ Oh, I know. I’m not doubting Alice’s affection for me, far from it.” she smiled at you. She put her cup down.

You stared behind Alyzée, a man was now sitting on the table behind her, his hat hiding his face.. You gestured to her to keep talking, fixing your gaze on the man behind you. Was he listening to you? What did he hear? 

“ What about your wedding with Alastor?”

“ I have never been happier.” You smiled at her, still staring at the man. “ And I shall protect this happiness I gain.”

You stood up, guiding Alyzée toward the exit after paying. You told her to walk to Alice’s home, before hiding yourself in a dark alley. If the man was stalking her, he would have to pass in front of you.

You waited patiently in the dark, but you never saw the man you were looking for. Maybe it was just an error from you…

You gasped as you felt yourself being tugged by your hair, your back hitting the floor. You turned your head toward the man who was tugging you deeper into the dark alley. You couldn’t see him at all but you were sure it was the man from the coffee shop, you could feel it. 

Your eyes flashed red, your shadow moving toward the man with a hideous smile. He let you go and you didn’t wait before standing up. You looked around, there was trash all around the alley. That would do. You moved the broken pieces of glass, nails and anything that could hurt, with your mind and threw them at the man who seemed to have escaped your shadow’s wrath.

You shouted in anger as you saw him running into an alley, your flying weapon digging into the wall. You ran after him, screaming at him to stop. As you turned into the alley, you hit something so hard it made you fall back on the hard ground. You moaned in pain, trying to stand up again, you couldn’t let him go, not yet.

“ Put your hands in the air, Police of New Orleans!”

You turned your head toward the light of a flashlight behind you. When you looked back in front of you, the man wasn’t there anymore. You spat blood on the floor, your eyes turning their usual color.

“ Are you okay, lady?”

“ Yes, thank you.” You turned around as the officer brought you in the busy street. You  flinched when you saw the man. “ John, what are you doing here?”

“ There is a serial killer on the loose, we are making patrol.” 

“ From what I heard, the killer murders men, not women.”

“ Can you just thank me? I just saved your life.” John said as he gave you a tissue so you could wipe your bleeding nose.

“ Thank you, officer.” you said sarcastically. “ Can I go home now?”

“ I’ll walk you toward a hospital, to see if you are okay.” You stared at him, as he put his gun back on his hips.  John seemed to have changed, he was more serious, he seemed taller but his gaze hadn’t changed when he was looking at you. 

You sighed as John walked beside you. You were so angry at yourself to have let this man go, you were this close to have him! You wanted to tear off your hair from your head, it was so embarrassing!

‘ Did he do that? Tell me, I’ll kill him right now.’

You stopped walking when you lifted up your head, Alastor was in front of you, it seemed like he had just finished working. 

“ Mr. Felleur, please tell me why my wife is injured, next to you?” he said as he smiled like usual even if you could see anger swirling in his eyes. “ Please, answer me quickly.”

“ Mr.Sanglar, your wife has been attacked by a man, I happened to be there to save her life.” John said as you ran into Alastor’s side. Your husband stared at your face, observing every emotion in your eyes. 

It’s nothing, I think I found Alyzée’s stalker. He seemed more aggressive than I thought.

‘ What about John?’

He came in time to make him flee.

“ Well, Officier Felleur, thank you for bringing my wife to me. I shall take it from here.”

“ I need her to write if she happens to see his face. It could be the serial killer I’m after.”

You tried to hide your smile while Alastor laughed out loud.  Oh, John…

“ Oh right, but I think she would have told you if she saw something, right? But this is not the case. So, if you allow us, we shall go.” He wrapped one arm around your waist before walking away from John who just stared at you.

You looked at the tissue John has given you to wipe your blood off your face.

“ Should I give it back?”

“ No, never give something with your blood on it.”

Alastor walked you back to your car, opened the door for you before settling behind the steering wheel. You waited for him to drive but he stayed silent. You looked at him, curiously.

“ Alastor, my love ?”

You flinched when you saw him punch the steering wheel, grinding his teeth. You stared at him, your eyes wide opened. 

“ I’m okay, darling. I just… didn’t expect to see you hurt.” He said before driving toward your home.

Home…

Wait.

“ Alastor no! Alice and Alyzée are maybe in danger!”

“ Does it look like I care, my love? You are hurt.” he said, his eyes never leaving the road.

“ Alastor, stop the car!” you shouted.

Alastor stopped the car on a deserted road, the one you always used to go home. He looked at you, his smile twitching. Your eyes were red and so was his.

“ Alastor, Alice is pregnant, Alyzée doesn’t know how to fight, they need us! What if the man is already there?”

“ Love of my life, curse of my sanity, Alice's family is the RicheMont. They have maids, butlers, their houses are on the richest quartier of New Orleans. Do you really think a mere human could walk in like that?” he asked you, his grip tightening on the wheel. “ They are safe there, my shadow is watching.”

You looked at Alastor, feeling relieved. 

“ Alastor… A mere human fought me.”

“ You used your powers?”

“ My shadow and Telekinesis.” you sighed, hiding your face in your head. “ But I don’t think he saw it. He was already running away when I used it. I think he must have felt my shadow like vines or something else.. And he ran away when he saw John behind me, the gun must have scared him off.” 

“ I see…” He took your face between his hands, staring at your face before kissing your lips. You sighed against his lips as he tugged you on his laps. “ Are you trying to make me mad, coming at me with blood on your face next to this prick?” he asked against your lips.

“ No…” you breathed against his lips, kissing him more eagerly.  You felt his hands on your waist, his nails digging into your skin through the clothes.  “ I’m just… Angry at myself?”

“ Why?”

“ Because I let my prey run away.” you stared at him, anger still present in your body. He looked at you with an amused expression. He stroked your cheeks while you leaned against his palm. 

“ Not for long… This man hurted you. His death has been decided.” You kissed his lips after his sentence.

“ This is my prey, Alastor, don’t steal it from me.”

“ He hurted you, my love. You can’t ask me to just–” you kissed him once more.

“ Yes, yes, but please, let me kill him in the end.” you smiled at him when you felt him relaxed underneath you. He nodded, sighing with a smile. You kissed his lips once more when you saw his smile and went back to your seat.

Alastor started back the car, driving you home. You walked home and sigh in bliss, nothing was better than being home. You let yourself fall on the sofa, what a day.

You let your husband cook for you as you looked at yourself through the window of the living room. You stood up and walked toward a mirror and saw the bruises on your face. You quickly took off the top of your dress and winced when you managed to see the cut on your back. Was it from when the man dragged you on the floor?

You sighed before concentrating on each cut. You could feel your power healing each cut, even the bruises on your face. This cold energy was seeping through your body, like a sweet caress before taking the pain away.

You opened your eyes, looking at the purple hues that were staring back at you. You saw Alastor watching you through the mirror, his arms crossed on his chest. You tilted your head as he walked toward you. He kissed your bare back, kissing each place a bruise has been made before you healed yourself.

You smiled softly, you wondered if he was aware he was doing the same thing you used to do when he was injured. Kissing his scars… You turned to him when you felt his arms wrapped around you. He kissed your face, his eyes looking at you.

“ Don’t let others injure you my dear. This is my privilege, isn’t it?” he tilted his head, his eyes never leaving your face. You nodded when you felt his nails on your back. You sighed in bliss when you felt his nails dig into your back, the same place where the bruises had been a moment ago.

“ Please…” You looked at him, through half closed eyes. “ Mark me…”

You gasped when you felt him pin you on the table, your chest against the hardwood. You almost whined when you felt the cold blade against your back. You turned your head toward him, begging him with your eyes.

He slid the knife against your skin, tracing the cut you just have healed, the cut that wasn't from him but someone else. You closed your eyes, feeling your body relax. You wondered if it was normal to feel safe when your loved one was cutting your skin, never deep enough to hurt you, to scar you but deep enough to root you, to make you remember who was the one behind this knife. 

You moaned your husband's name as he kissed your neck, feeling the blood sliding from your back. He hummed against your skin, kissing the blood that was coming from the small cuts he made. 

You pushed your behind against his waist. You felt his smile against your skin, as you moaned.

“ I need to feel you…”

“ Mhn.. Really..?” he said, cutting your dress from your legs until he could see your bare form underneath him.

You shivered when you heard him take off his belt. You bit your lip when you felt the blade cutting your skin once more and your eyes rolled back when you felt him penetrate you slowly. You could feel every veins on his penis, your walls clenching around him.

 He kissed your neck as the blade cut your skin once more, his hips pushing against you. You were holding on the table, trying to think. All you could feel was Alastor, inside you, around you. You watched as one of his hands was next to your head, holding himself up with this hand because the other one was busy carving into your skin.

You opened your mouth before biting him hard on the wrist. You heard his breath hitch, before biting harder against his skin when you felt him set a pace that made your eyes rolled back into your skull. 

“ Fuck… !” you heard him moan, making you clench on his member.

You whined, your head swirling with arousal. How you loved when Alastor wasn’t his composed self. 

You bite his forearms once more, your teeth digging into his skin, making him lose his pace, his hips pounding into. You grabbed the end of the table, crying from pleasure, screaming your husband’s name.

I love you.

‘ I love you.’

You came on his member as he dug the knife on your back once more. You felt like the world stopped, keeping your teeth in his arms, your hands gripping at the table, your walls clenching on his shaft, you almost black out when you felt Alastor’s pace getting faster and roughter.

You gasped, breathing once more when you felt Alastor’s weight on your back, his seed filling your womb. You held his hand, trying to root yourself to him, still sensible from your orgasm. You were both panted hard, coming back to yourself.

“ Are you with me, my love…?” Panted Alastor, his hand letting go of the knife and caressing your soft skin. “ Come on, dear…”

“ Yes… Yes… I’m okay..” you squeezed his arms, reassuringly.

He leaned back, after kissing your neck one last time. You sighed when you felt him leaving your warmth. You looked at him as he admired his handiwork on your back.

“ Do you want to heal it?” he asked, stroking your uncut skin.

You softly shook your head with a fond smile.

“ No, I want to feel them a little longer…”

He smiled before leaning down to kiss your lips. You kissed him back, stroking his cheeks with your right hand. How you loved him…

“ After all the killings I have done, you are my best prey,  my love.”

You giggled at his words. You stood up slightly, sighing in bliss when you felt each cut on your skin. What delicious pain your husband had given you…

He kissed your neck with a big smile.

“ Now, how should we trap our next prey?”

Tag List: @lukneetoonz @martinys-world @littlepoetnova @sirens-and-moonflowers @eris-norwega @tiredflame132 @mo-0-o @vvollerie @sodavizz @boogiemansbitch @tessemerick @slytherin4ever @kammsinn @alastorssimp @t0xic1vi @diamond-almond @fangirlbitch02 @saccharine-nectarine @thenorthnightingale @bibliophile-yomna @itzjustj-1000 @mothraantics @yourdoorisunlocked @phamtasic @karmakillz @holographicage @sarcastic-sourwolf @akuraluna2468 @everwolf-20 @thesunandmoons-blog @songbrita @noraunor @fandomsbookclub @hokkaido97 @catticora @gasiacos

[ohwaitimthewriter]

The scent of memory

Pairing : (implied) Caesar x human reader

Warning: FLUFF

Summarize (you'll never see me write a good one 😭): You started to cook a meal dear to your heart when a certain ape decided to pay you a visit.

Words: 2K

A/N: I tried a little something, I hope you'll like it! Enjoy your reading 😊 I lowkey feel a bit insecure about this one but shhh I just wanted to get this out of my mind

Masterlist.

There were surprises every day. Ever since you joined Caesar's clan, you'd spent your time learning what your human life had never taught you: to use what nature offered and adapt it to the needs of the community.

And there was a lot to learn. So Caesar asked Maurice to teach you, to teach you the way of the apes. You were a quick learner, but you never gave yourself too much credit: Maurice was a good teacher, patient and clear in what he showed you. Regardless of the activity, he always found the best way to help you master the techniques for weaving ropes or fine plant stems and knotting them, for whittling wood to create stakes or notches, for carving stone to make weapons… Maurice taught you to identify plants and mushrooms, the edible ones, the healing ones, the poisonous ones. One day, he even took you with him into the forest to learn how to track small game. Not that hunting was one of your favorite activities, and even if you still needed a bit of work in that area, being able to find and track game added a usefulness to your presence within the clan.

Being useful. That was all that mattered to you, and often, when night fell and Maurice left you to your own activities, you continued the work. You'd weave again and again until you obtained the exact density and solidity you were looking for. You could spend several hours whittling a piece of wood to the right angle or thickness. Carving stone required more strength and dexterity. You often ended up with scratches on your hands, but if that meant being useful, then you'd take all the cuts and scratches necessary to master these techniques.

With Maurice, you learned the manual stuff. But there was one last thing you needed to learn. Something that took time to communicate: sign language.

Caesar always found a moment in his day to teach you. You weren't sure why he'd appointed himself as your teacher for this language, but it gave you the opportunity to spend some time with him. And over time, you learned to savor those brief moments when he showed you a new word.

Moments of peace.

It was a strange thing to feel serenity in the face of this force of nature that was Caesar. Strong, powerful but also fair and caring. All he had to do was stand there, and all eyes were on him. He attracted loyalty and respect like a magnet, and everyone was bound to succumb to his power. And yet, in contradiction to the unsettled beating of your heart, you felt a deep sense of calm as you spent these moments beside him.

You looked forward to his daily interventions, brief and occasionally strict if you didn't place your hands correctly to form a word, as if they were a reward.

Yes, you spent most of your time learning.

However, on rare occasions, you did have time for yourself, or rather, you allowed yourself to take this time after lessons, without practicing. You mostly used it to wash your clothes or cook. On the days when a touch of nostalgia crept into you, you cooked meals from your old life. Back when you still lived in the city.

You couldn't always find all the ingredients you needed for the recipes you now know almost by heart, but you always managed to replace what was missing. Thanks in no small part to Maurice's teaching. And when you cooked, a sweet aroma would delightfully fill the space of your hut.

Tonight was one of those days when nostalgia rang at your door. You had decided to cook a ratatouille. A simple, unadorned meal, but one in which most of the ingredients were available to you in the village: cultivating the land was also one of the things you had to learn.

You carefully chopped your vegetables, some of them already immersed in an old iron pan you'd picked up on one of Maurice's supervised outings. The aroma of the tomato melted deliciously with that of the onion, and each portion of vegetable you added to your preparation pleasantly tingled your nostrils. You remembered how, as a little girl, you used to complain that you still had to eat vegetables while your mother sliced them with a smirk on her face: “You can decide on your meal when you grow up, and to grow up, you need to eat vegetables”. At the time, you thought this was the smartest thing a person could say, and it couldn't be further from the truth. Vegetables made you grow and when you grew up, you could choose not to eat them.

You inhaled deeply, savoring the fragrance's journey through your body until it reached your lungs. You almost wanted to hold your breath, letting the aromas mingle and swirl, but perhaps too soon, you exhaled, opening your eyes. How long had it been since you closed them? You weren't sure, but your heart skipped a beat when your gaze fell on the one of an unexpected ape.

“C… Caesar?”

His name falling on your lips was the signal that you had just become aware of his presence. He had watched you lose yourself in your thoughts and chosen to remain on the threshold of your hut, not wishing to disturb your deep reflections, whatever they might be. So he waited for a gesture, a mimic, a simple sign that you had become aware of his presence, before stepping forward.

As he drew closer, a tantalizing scent came wafting up his muzzle, and you couldn't help noticing his nostrils taking in a few breaths of the aroma. In fact, he glanced at your pan placed directly on the small fire, showing you that he had just identified where the smell was coming from.

Caesar plopped down beside you, always sitting so that he could read what was going on in your eyes. He often made the excuse that this way, you could more easily see and learn the words he was signing to you, which was true, but secretly, he enjoyed being able to study the slightest expression that ventured across your face.

And you were obviously entitled to a surprise quiz on your knowledge of sign language.

Caesar took care to sign slowly, stopping when he saw a doubt creeping into your eyes, sometimes repeating the sign that was obviously causing you difficulty in understanding, until you were able to correctly state the question he had just asked you, not without a touch of pride at your success.

“ You're not eating with the colony?”

You think for a moment, looking at your hands to try to find the right gestures.

“ Want to spend some time… ”

And when you couldn't find the right word, you said it out loud again.

“Alone.” You finished, silently asking him about the right sign for this word.

He looked at you for a moment, taking in your answer, before giving you the sign for the word “ alone ”. You repeated it to memorize it, and Caesar simply nodded when you signed it correctly. A comfortable silence settled between you and he glanced once more at the vegetables simmering quietly. The delicate sound of crackling food blended perfectly with the crackling of wood being devoured by flames.

You weren't done adding the last ingredients, and you took Caesar's silence as a signal that he wouldn't be asking anything more from you right now, so you set about crumbling the fresh thyme stalks on top of your preparation.

Caesar stared at the vegetables, their sweet aromas tingling his nostrils in waves, and when your hands appeared in his field of vision, he couldn't help but watch your fingers meticulously work around the thyme stems, creating a shower of tiny leaves over your meal. And as the food bubbled, the scent of thyme mingling with the other vegetables wafted up from the pan. For a brief moment, he felt as if a magic trick had been played on him, and his green eyes found their way to yours.

He knew about cooking. He knew that humans cooked every meal they ate, with the exception of a few that could be eaten raw, such as fruit and certain vegetables. He'd seen, and sometimes even tasted, when his humans' backs were turned, some of the meals and cakes they'd left on the table in the living room of his former home. But if he'd seen the finished products, how they were made remained a mystery. Will had never taken the time to show him how he cooked his meals. So there was something… wonderfully intriguing about seeing you at work.

Your gaze was still on the pot, and as you stirred the ingredients with a piece of stick from which you'd peeled the bark, you took a deep breath. Caesar watched your eyelids flutter and close as a smile crept over your face, as if a distant memory had just gently brushed over your mind.

You felt at home, and Caesar could have fallen even deeper in adoration at the serene, contented face you offered him, if he hadn't forced himself to avert his gaze, which he knew was sometimes too intense for you to bear. It was something he took note of mentally when he looked at you intently with the simple aim of learning the core of your entire soul. When his eyes settled on you for a little too long, you had this habit of rolling your shoulders, as if to rid yourself of some invisible tension, a self-conscious smile tacked to your lips, while your arms wrapped tightly around your chest to protect yourself from his inspection.

Caesar decided to keep his gaze on the contents of your pan, figuring it would be easier to suppress the gentle tingling sensation that was creeping traitorously into the pit of his stomach.

“It's… a meal that… my mother used to cook for me.” You spoke fondly, but with a hint of incertitude in your voice.

You didn't talk much about your past, just as Caesar didn't talk much about it either. Hearing you mention a memory that seemed to be cherished in your heart, though not sure it was the right thing to do, had softened the usually serious expression on Caesar's face.

Caesar nodded quietly, accepting your recollection as a gift, a token of trust. Even if these memories were attached to humans and to life before the release of the apes, they were memories that made you who you were today. Not allowing or accepting them would be like not accepting… you. And Caesar was already far beyond that.

You smiled again, your gaze lost in your memories. It was hard for him to understand how a simple scent could take you so far in thought, but after all, it wasn't for him to judge the complex emotions that must have been running through you at that moment.

“The same food?”

Caesar's gruff voice caught your attention, and a hint of joy lit up your face at his sudden interest in your past.

“Not quite.” You replied, still smiling. “I take the peppers off, I don't like them,” you giggled.

He huffed, slightly entertained by what seemed to be hiding a more detailed story you'd shared with your mother and didn't yet want to tell.

The smell was so tempting, it was hard to deny it. He watched you pick up the pot using a thick piece of cloth, so as not to burn yourself, and serve you a portion of food in a bowl. It was then that he caught himself thinking that maybe, some day, you'd agree to share with him this meal that seemed so dear to you.

[shogunish]

𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗶𝘀.

synopsis. “you made me feel like i was a threat to you.”

contents. a bit of angst, comfort, miscommunication/lack of communication, implied friends-to-lovers, soft! satoru, takes place after the star plasma vessel incident, satoru's trauma response, unedited, something i whipped up on a whim lmao

wc. 1.3k

note. had a sudden urge to write this when i watched dazai edits and i hope i'll find more inspiration to write like..i just wanna be consistent for once 🥲

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! <3

the inverted spear of heaven was no more.

the star plasma vessel incident — mainly toji fushiguro — had carved its mark into satoru’s flesh. after satoru had killed the man, he had made sure to destroy the cursed tool until not even ashes remained of the sharp blade that used to spill the blood of innocents.

it was almost like the sorcerer wanted to destroy the things that could destroy him.

however, he failed to notice how he had almost destroyed his relationship with you, too.

no longer did satoru wrap you up in his bear hugs. no longer did he let you rest your head on his shoulder on movie night. no longer were you welcome in his space.

always were you kept at an arm’s length. satoru was close enough to admire but so far out of reach like the constellation of stars dotting the night sky. what you thought was no more than a phase turned out to be so much more until, in the safety of your bedroom and underneath your blankets, your vision blurred with tears.

if the sun wasn't there, the moon would remain hidden in the vast void of space. and without satoru, you couldn't shine, either. in fact, your smile dimmed until it was almost extinguished by the pain satoru put you through — but it wasn’t his fault. or so you'd like to tell yourself.

satoru had danced with death when he was meant to only protect a girl.

you couldn't possibly blame him.

after all, you could neutralize the only thing that kept him safe.

the ability to nullify any cursed technique upon touch was as convenient as it was, literally, cursed. with zero offensive abilities, you always relied on satoru or suguru to cover for you in case your plans didn't work out. one miscalculation and your head would roll — that much you knew.

among every student attending jujutsu high, you were the weakest while satoru was the strongest.

it was enough to tie your fate to satoru, weaving a web of complicated feelings which usually tasted like those sugary gummy bears the sorcerer carried with him. it was sweet and warm like his embrace, but the blade of toji fushiguro had effortlessly cut through the fine webs. nothing but a cold void remained where laughter and silly inside jokes about digimon danced along the velvety threads.

almost like a black hole that swallowed the constellation in the skies, leaving behind broken galaxies and lonely stars that swallowed moons to fill the loss of their companions.

“he's so stupid,” you muttered to yourself, threw the teddy bear in your arms into the corner of your bed and sat up to blow your nose.

the teddy bear was a polar bear adorned with button eyes and a red bow tied around its fluffy neck. it looks like you, you had mindlessly said during last year's summer festival. satoru had spent the entire evening shooting little rubber ducks to earn enough points to win the silly bear, but it was worth it for your eyes lit up like the fireworks that followed soon after.

the clock read two am when you poured boiling hot water into a cup of instant ramen, ripped open the package of spice and stirred the meal with disinterest written all over your face. not even the scent of cheap cup noodles made your tummy growl anymore. how could it when it was so full of dread, guilt and worry for the sorcerer who stole your heart and refused to give it back? it was an unfair bargain, really.

just a moment later, you heard a knock on your door. you considered ignoring it and pretending to be asleep, but alas, the lights were on and likely snuck through underneath the crack of the door to your dorm. what kind of idiot knocked on your door at two am?

satoru — the only idiot who'd knock on your door in the middle of the night and look like a kicked puppy.

“satoru? it's two am..,” you spoke first, standing between him and the warmth of your dorm.

satoru didn't look like satoru. even through the pitch black glasses of his shades could you see the storm brewing in those sky-blues of his. with a sigh, he rubbed his neck. “why does everyone keep telling me how late it is? ah, no matter.”

you wanted to ask, but decided against it.

“look, i know it's late, but i can't help but think you've been avoiding me for the last couple of what? weeks? months?” satoru shifted his weight from one fuzzy slipper to the other. “was it something i said?”

in that very moment, you realized you were doing the same things as he was. as soon as class was over, you'd go home alone. you'd have lunch alone. you'd spend your weekends alone. all those things once were shared with satoru in your space, but as soon as he avoided you..you avoided him, too out of fear of getting hurt.

“satoru..don't you realize that you've been avoiding me first?” your voice was quiet as you hugged your middle. “ever since the incident and the destruction of that cursed tool, you always kept me at arm's length. you no longer let me get any closer nor do you spar with me anymore. nothing..”

“you made me feel like i was a threat to you.”

a painful epiphany coiled in satoru's stomach like a snake. was he so busy destroying the devil's tools and refining his technique that he..forgot about about you? the person who'd steal his fries and snore on his shoulder on movie night? no, no way. he would never see you as a threat even though your touch could dissolve his infinity like sugar when it touched water.

“[name], that's not..” the words got stuck in his throat. for the first time in his life, he was speechless. “you are anything but a threat.”

“then why..” tears brimmed your eyes until they overflowed, ran down the apples of your cheeks and met the warmth of satoru’s thumb. it was not his stupid infinity wiping the tears away, but satoru himself.

to be touched by satoru felt like the first sunrays of spring gracing your skin. warm, familiar and hinting at the end of a long, unforgiving winter that had taken root in your belly. soft sobs bubbled in the back of your throat, rocking your shoulders and interrupting every word you wanted to say; how stupid he was, how much you missed him, how much you needed him.

“shh..say no more,” satoru whispered and took you in his strong arms so you could sob into his chest all you wanted.

satoru didn't care about the tears or snot wetting his shirt. all that mattered was the feeling of you in his arms, and even though it pained him to know that he caused those tears, this was better than receiving your cold shoulder and dismissive smiles.

quietly, you and satoru went back inside the warmth of your dorm where both of you shared some cheap cup ramen which satoru spiced up with some peppers, egg and a conversation which neither of you would remember in the morning to come. no amount of time seemed to have passed between you as you both laughed, bickered and exchanged glances like lovers-to-be would.

“what are you doing?,” you asked, long comfortable underneath the sheets of your bed — or you would be if satoru didn't hold them up and almost looked offended by your words.

“sleeping with you, duh,” he said like it was the most normal thing in the world and maybe it was.

ignoring your protests and pouts, satoru crammed himself into bed with you, one arm around your waist and the other one underneath your head. his broad chest gently pressed against your back, his warmth enveloped you like a blanket.

“you're stupid,” you smiled to yourself while a blush as red as roses crept up your cheeks.

“and you're lucky i love you,” satoru grumbled underneath his breath, blowing some strands of your hair away from his nose and mouth so he wouldn't suffocate while holding you so tight.

taglist. @torusmochi, @cinnamonmon

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 6

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw.

one. two. three. four. five.

Six. 六

Your dark mood lasts for days. You do not shirk your duties, but you definitely brood, hating everything, most of all yourself. A part of you hopes that Donaka decides you’re not worth the trouble after a glimpse of this other side of you. He does not prod you further, seemingly steering clear of you. He had his fun taking you down a peg–what more could he want with you? Surely he has better things to do… The more time goes on, the more certain you are that his proposition was mostly in your head.

Amusingly, it’s little Mrs. Wong who gets you out of your funk, yelling at you in Cantonese and smacking you with a wooden spoon when (maybe?) you didn’t move out of her way fast enough in the kitchen. You are determined that someday she’s going to let you call her Auntie, but apparently you still have some distance to cover. Her temper is like a firecracker, loud but shortlived. She’s adorable and terrifying, and it’s all so ridiculous that you cannot stop laughing as you flee, and the shroud of your depression lifts again like the sun penetrating through the clouds.

The absurdity of life has always saved you in times like this. What do you have to be sad about, anyway? You are healthy, you are housed, and you are fed in this beautiful place. You are having an adventure. So what, if your diabolically handsome employer does not approve of you? You’re just here to clean his floors, for fuck’s sake. 

Maybe Donaka Mark is rich, but that doesn’t mean he has all the answers to the mysteries of life. You find your mental state improves, when it seems like he’s ignoring you. 

Flirting with the cute gardener’s assistant doesn’t hurt your state of mind either. His name is Jun, he has an infectious laugh, and he offers to show you around the city on your next day off. Thinking some down time with someone your age will do you good, you are set to meet him at the bus stop down the hill from Mr. Mark’s house. 

However, he never shows. You try not to take it too hard, but it still bums you out. 

He does not return with the gardener the next week either, and then you start to worry. The kind old man who tends Donaka Mark’s plants just shrugged at your inquiry and said, “He quit.” 

It seems odd, but you brush it off. You suppose you’ll just have to explore the city on your own. You ask for the day off for your birthday, wanting to go do the touristy things, like ride the historic ferry and take the tram up to Victoria Peak. Maybe visit a temple, do some shopping at the Night Market, and definitely indulge in some local eats. Something about living in Hong Kong has you dreaming about noodles. It’s an affliction. You want to try them all. 

On your day there is a little carved wooden box on the table where you usually partake your breakfast in the common area of the servants’ quarters. You’re not sure why your heart falls to your feet with something like dread, but somehow you just know that Mr. Mark has not forgotten about you after all. 

With a forbidden thrill you flip the lid carefully, finding a domed-link silver filigree and enamel bracelet set with dreamy jade cabochons. The little details are exquisite, and you’re instantly enchanted. When you look carefully at the bauble, you realize the stylized blue designs aren’t flowers–they’re bats.

He remembered that conversation you’d had, that very first day. It warms you to your toes, and maybe scares you too. He's good to the staff, but you don't think he usually buys them jewelry.

Goddammit.

You just know, deep down, that you shouldn’t accept it. You even set it back down in the box again, just looking at it with hands on your hips. 

But therein lies the crux of temptation: you want it. It’s pretty and well made, not cheap tourist junk, and…he’d put thought into this gift for you. 

This bait for you, you remind yourself. It’s still hard for you to believe that he’s propositioning you, if for anything, because a man like him could have a supermodel on each arm if he wanted. What the fuck would he want with a girl like you?

Maybe…it’s just an apology?

Not likely, but surely he’s not going to expect you to sleep with him for a silver bracelet??

You have a problem, and possibly, a screw loose. You know this is a flame you should not play with. You are toeing the line, dangerously close to falling in.

What if…you just wear it today, then give it back? It’s not like he’ll know. You doubt you’ll even see him today.

It feels like a guilty secret, as you pick it up again, clasp it on your wrist, and set out for your big day. You like the weight of the heavy silver on your skin–worse yet, you like knowing that Mr. Mark selected this bauble just for you. It feels…like a badge of honor, and you know it’s stupid, to feel proud of yourself for catching the attention of a man like him–but you can’t help it.

You are smart, but sometimes? Your heart is really really stupid.

You do not return to the house until well past after dusk, nearly midnight. You made a day of it, actually able to enjoy the city since Mr. Mark pays so well. You will remember the hand pulled noodles with beef you had for dinner in the Night Market for the rest of your life, they were so delicious. Watching the chef stretch them out from a lump of dough was like a religious experience. 

Having your fortune told in the Night Market was memorable too, but maybe a little unsettling. Squatted on a stool in the older woman’s stall, you paid 100HK dollars for her to look at your right hand and frown. She told you that money would never be a problem for you, but the men in your life would always cause you difficulty. Looking at your relationship with your father and every man after that, you reckon she was probably right. You know you should take it with a grain of salt, but you can’t quite shake the hum of unease in the back of your mind.

On tired feet you walk through the garden, around to the entrance to the servant’s quarters. 

"Did you have a nice day?" asks a voice from the shadows. You start, then realize Mr. Mark is sitting on the carved stone bench, on the path to the servants' wing of the house, tucked back in the manicured trees. 

Fuck.

Immediately you tuck your wrist behind your back.

“Mr. Mark?”

“Come here.”

His voice is deliberately neutral–you can’t quite gauge his mood as you approach, feeling like a teenager caught staying out past her curfew. You have no way of knowing he has been waiting for hours, growing more and more annoyed that you are away from him, not under his watchful gaze, where you belong.

He knows where you were, if not exactly what you did. Unbeknownst to you, there is a tiny tracker inserted in your new bracelet you wear with such foolish avarice. 

“Well?”

“Yes, I had a wonderful day,” you confirm, coming to stand before him, committed now even if you are walking into the lion’s den. You find it odd he’s waiting up for you, but it is a beautiful night to be out in the garden. A cool breeze is coming off the water, lifting your hair.

“Let’s see it then.” He points at your hand so casually held behind you, and you know you are caught out.

Almost guiltily, you extend your arm to show off your new acquisition in situ. 

He props your hand with just the tips of his fingers, his touch maddeningly light on your sensitive palm as he turns your wrist to inspect the bracelet, sending a thrill down your arm. He likes seeing the gift that he selected upon you.

“It suits you,” he finally assesses, though you still can’t tell if he’s displeased. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” you answer, barely above a whisper, feeling as though you are sealing something between you as you admit it. 

“Well, that’s convincing.”

Your heart feels like a sea urchin lodging in your throat. You’re not sure what it is about this man that makes you want to please him–and tell him to fuck off–all in the same breath. 

Then he gets to the fun part–for him. “You shouldn’t have stayed out so late alone,” he scolds you. 

You cant your head and press your lips, holding in the smart remark that burns on your tongue as his coal-black eyes bore into you, settling for, "I didn't mean to worry you…but it is my day off. I think I'm free to do what I want." You just can't stop yourself from adding the last bit, and you wonder from his darkening expression if it will be your undoing.

He imagines in that moment what it would be like to reach out and put you over his knee. Instead, he stands abruptly, startling you into taking a step backwards. 

He likes that. 

It irks him, that you dare defy him, like he doesn’t know what’s best for you. If you insist on acting so tough, he’s tempted to throw you over his shoulder and show you just how little it would take to actually break you. 

"Were you drinking?" he asks darkly, hating the thought of you out in a bar, with other men, enjoying yourself. Laughing, like you were with the young gardener not so long ago. The moment he saw that on his camera feed that he constantly watches of you, Donaka saw red. You should not give your joy to others so freely. You sprinkle it around everywhere you go, and he covets it all for himself.

That boy had to go.

"No," you defend, and you’re telling the truth. "I just...walked around." There was plenty to see in Kowloon district. 

Donaka takes another step closer, his body almost pressing against yours, the heat of it warming you. He watches your reaction as he speaks, his voice low and firm. “You should have let me arrange a driver for you.”

This again. It feels as though he wants to cloister you away from experiencing the world, by shoving you in a car. "Donaka..." you sigh, slipping into using his first name for the first time ever, because you’re tired, and your feet hurt, and he is standing very close, talking to you like he has a say in what you do…

It’s maddening and arousing all at once, rubbing with a velvet touch against some long long cavewoman instinct in your brain, and if you’re not careful this just might be the night he outmaneuvers you. 

Donaka’s eyes narrow at hearing you dare to be so familiar with him, even if deep down he secretly loves it. He takes another step into you, crowding you against the stone wall, caging you in with an arm. He’s blocking your path to a quick exit into the servants’ quarters, you can’t help but notice. Your heart pounds in your ears–but you’re not half as afraid as you should be of this man. 

“Hong Kong is pretty safe, as it goes…” you continue to protest around the sound of your heart drumming in your ears, earning a scoff. 

“You have no idea, the sorts of things that could happen to a girl like you in this city.”

You can’t help but think you’re not sure if you feel safe here at home now. 

“If something happened…I would have called you,” you offer up, appealing to his ego as protector, the role he’s apparently decided to take on for himself without asking you. 

However, he sees right through you, rolling those beautiful dark eyes. “You should have let me take you out,” he suggests in a low tone that curls your toes in your sandals. He says it like it had been some option on your menu that you’d rejected. Never in a million years would it have even occurred to you to ask. 

You find yourself doing your best impression of a fish out of water, like the ones you’d seen stacked like cord wood in the market. His other hand lifts to touch your chin lightly, closing your mouth. “Would you have liked that?” 

You honestly don't know the answer to that. 

This man fascinates you and repulses you. He's handsome and commanding and oh so forbidding. He scares you, but he draws you like a moth to a flame. Having these little flirtatious interactions around the house are one thing. Going out with him would be...something else entirely. The thought of what it could mean to socialize with a man like him, where you are so far from being equals, makes you uneasy. It's much safer to just...write about what might have been in your journal, later. 

"I'm not sure that would be appropriate," you finally answer breathily.

His smile for you is nothing less than the wolf baring its teeth. “Why not?”

"You're my boss..." you try to defend. You scare the shit out of me is the real answer you don't dare say aloud.

Donaka can’t help the dark laugh that falls from his lips at your answer, the way you flounder as you grasp for a defense, utterly drowning. A part of him wants to claim you right here and now, for being such a sweet, soft, naive little thing in his claws. 

He leans down closer to you, his head dipping down to your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Is that the best excuse you’ve got?”

For a moment, you think your soul might evacuate from your body. 

"Pretty sure it's a good one," you barely manage to reply above a whisper.

“You still don’t understand what I’m offering you, do you?” he asks, his voice deceptively gentle, a dagger clothed in velvet.

You love it how he makes you out to be the obtuse one, when he is the one who has spoken so cryptically.

“I…might,” you answer. You’re not a complete innocent, or a total philistine.

What would a VIP experience on the arm of Donaka Mark be like? Although he can be charming when he wants to be, it makes you feel more anxious than intrigued. You imagine a dinner at some high-end restaurant you could never afford. Somewhere people go to be seen, more than to eat, though the food would undoubtedly be amazing. Somewhere you would feel incredibly out of place. Then what? A ride in one of his ugly but wicked fast sports cars? A night of hedonism at some exclusive club for millionaires only? And what would he expect as payment for all this? You can’t even say you wouldn’t be willing to give it. You want this man with a voracity that is–frankly–terrifying to you. 

You’ve never felt anything like it. 

What you wouldn’t like is the inevitable aftermath of later: he's offering you the opportunity to give yourself up–then get thrown away, with the enjoyment of some perks in between. You could repeat your mother’s history all over again, a thing you always swore up, down, and sideways you would never do.

Donaka watches all these thoughts play across your face, without a word aloud to accompany them. You just stare, unable to speak, and he narrows his eyes at you.

“Say one sentence of the novel you just wrote in your head out loud,” he challenges.

You open your mouth to try, but nothing comes out. All you can do is look up at him with what you are sure is a pathetic expression on your face, paralyzed. He is so close, and your eyes fixate for a long, damning moment on his mouth. In the end you have to close your eyes against that laser-like stare, shaking your head.

“You know something I find interesting about you,” he goes on. You open your eyes, though your tongue is still tied. “I think if I made you choose between an Hermès purse or that cheap bauble on your wrist this morning, you still would have chosen the bracelet, wouldn't you?”

“Yes,” you answer immediately, maybe not to your advantage. Then you feel a little relieved, glad it didn’t cost a fortune.

“Comparatively cheap,” he clarifies, as though he doesn't want you to feel too at ease. How did he know? 

You narrow your eyes, lifting your wrist towards him. “Maybe…you should take it back.”

You think you might die of a heart attack, when he folds your smaller hand in his, and kisses your knuckles lightly. “It’s too late for that.”

You’re not sure what that means, but as he strokes your thumb lightly with his, you start to tremble.

“Sir…” 

He pins you with his stare, looming over you, but makes no move, waiting. 

“It’s getting late…and I have to work tomorrow.”

He lifts an eyebrow, smirking down at you. “And whose fault is that?”

“Mine…though it’s starting to be yours.”

He snorts. “Then ask me for the day off again,” he dares you. When you answer him with yet more paralyzed silence he gets frustrated, tilting your face up with his huge hand engulfing your jaw. For a man who works in tech…his fingers are calloused, and strong, and your legs just might go out from underneath you.  “Ask me. Say it out loud, y/n. Tell me what’s going on, behind those big eyes.”

You, however, just shake your head against his masterful grip. “You don’t want to know.” 

“I like secrets, y/n. I want to know everything.” You suppose that is his bread and butter, with his security business and all his cameras…you don’t know why it never occurred to you before now, that it could be a personal obsession, as much as professional. 

You’re tempted. God, are you tempted, with this beast of a man looming over you, touching you, looking through you with those piercing dark eyes. Like he wants to eat you as much as he wants to fuck you… 

Somehow you know if you dare go down that path…there will be no turning back. 

You choose the coward’s road.

“Please…I think…it would be best…to call it a night.”

He weighs you with a heavy gaze for so long that you start to doubt he will let you go–in the darkest dungeon of your heart, you know that a part of you doesn’t want him to. It would be convenient, if he would make the choice for you. Let you taste the forbidden fruit with none of the blame…

You are losing your goddamned mind over this man. You need to stop.  

You never really know why in the end he releases you, pushing back from the wall to give you space. You side-step towards the door of the servant’s quarters, afraid for the predatory look he’s paying you, that he might change his mind.

 "Good night, Mr. Mark," you say quietly, before disappearing into the little building where you sleep. A rush of frustration flares inside him as you scamper away–again. He narrowly resists the urge to kick down your door and show you who you belong to.

“Good night,” he answers back through gritted teeth, only the crickets left to hear him. He’ll have your secrets, one way or another. He can genuinely say he tried–a first, in so long he can’t remember when. For what happens next…you will only have yourself to blame.

[mari-the-bimbo]

What do you think about pumpkin carving with bodyguard!Megumi? I can picture reader making a mess with pumpkin guts, and Megumi secretly hates the mess but loves reader too much to ruin their fun.

Bodyguard Megumi: pumpkin carving

A/N: oof it’s been a while since I posted some Megumi content hope you enjoy! 💗

It didn’t take much convincing to make your sorcerer fiancé to join you for pumpkin carving, but that’s probably because he’s the biggest simp ever.

Megumi’s dark piercing eyes continuously flicker to your hand holding the knife, trying his best not to be overprotective but it’s second nature, so he fails easily. “Be careful with the knife y/n” he mutters.

You giggle when you turn your attention towards him only to find he’s just shamelessly staring at you now, which was something you were already used to though.

“I’m fine Megumi, stop being such a worry wart!”

“I’m not” Megumi states firmly, but it’s hard to believe that.

He turns his attention back to the pumpkin in front of him momentarily but he made no move to carve it, after all, he wasn’t interested in pumpkin carving, he was interested in you.

He silently turns his attention back to you, eyebrows furrowing when he’s realised the mess you’ve made with the pumpkin guts. “Stop making a mess you silly girl” he scolds half heartedly, pinching your cheek before the lovesick sorcerer cleans up your mess.

You open your mouth to retort but instead you decided to tease your lover just a little, makes things more fun right?

You grab some of the pumpkin guts and throw it towards him, the orange pulp landing on his pale hands. His head immediately turns towards you, shooting you an unimpressed glare with an eyebrow raised.

“Oi-“

“Whoopsie! Sorry gumi, just helping you clean the mess” you say with a cheeky smile which seemed a bit too mischievous to be innocent.

He’s frowning but it became a bit too hard to keep his resolve as he notices you bite your pretty plush lips to prevent yourself from laughing. God, you’re so fucking cute even when you’re being a gremlin.

“You think you’re so fucking funny don’t you?” he asks, tilting his head ever so slightly.

You gleam in pride at his words, “thats because I am the funniest gumi”, flipping your hair to add emphasis. His fingers impulsively reach out to play with the ends of your hair.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah” You say unable to fight off your smile.

Megumi flashes a smile back, before speaking “only thing funny about you is the pumpkin guts stuck to your chin”

Your eyes widen as your hands immediately fumble around your chin, trying to wipe off any excess. And in your hurry, you miss the handsome smirk on Megumi’s face as he watches you.

“Here let me help you” he offers.

But as his veiny hands grabs your chin, you gasp as he pushes it upwards and presses himself against your lips instead. You’re surprised but you kiss back until you both pull away for air.

“Gotcha”

“Perv” you huff.

He chuckles while he leans back and puts his hands back in his pocket. He hides half his face back in his jumper to hide his smile as usual.

“You liar, I never had anything stuck to my chin” you say with a pout, now leaning forward and pressing yourself on his muscular chest.

“You lie all the time” he retorts as his arms snake around your waist to help you into his lap.

“Not true! I only lie about my grades!” You admit, as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders.

“Mhm sure” he says dryly as he feeds you some of the pumpkin pulp. Smiling at you as you munch on it like a chipmunk.

“Cutie” he mutters as he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips.