#many % till they need help from the married men

[thinkpink212]

Marriage is and should always be viewed as entering a business partnership. Loved doesn’t require paper, but if it’s beneficial for the both of you? Do it. Otherwise, the title is not a guarantee for anything, like how I see people treat it, I fear <3

[gglitch1dd]

Letters to and from a Soldier

Part of the "Well... aren't you a pretty doll?" Series.

Army Soldier Midoriya Izuku x Secretary Reader

Context: War has separated you and your husband but your hearts forever stay with one another.

Note: Set in the 1940s/1950s

[PART 4] [Well… aren’t you a pretty doll- Masterlist]

To my loving wife,

I pray that you are well. It has been too long since I have seen your face and I think about you of every second of my waking state and for every moment that I close my eyes. Although my heart longs for you, this is no place for you nor any sane man. The front is just as bad as we thought it would be, but we’ve got a tough group of men here.

Sargent has me staying close to him, for strategy is a game of the mind and not of strength, however I wish I could be out there with my brothers in arms. I do know however, that you would much rather have me stay away from conflict, which is the only good settlement I have in my heart.

I am so glad that you said you were well in your last letter. Funny enough, some days I can go an entire two weeks without receiving a letter from you, only to receiver eight letters in bulk a day later. I worried for you. I know it was not long that we were married and living together, and now we are so far apart. I wish for you to be safe, my love. Stay close with your girls and look out for one another.

I am glad Enji is keeping you busy so you don’t have to worry about me too much. You’re a smart woman, doll. I know you can handle whatever that man has in store.

Now I know I ramble off too much. Sargent says I write too many letters and sending off a letter per day is a waste of paper but I can’t help it. Writing to you is the only time my thoughts reach a point of sanity and relief.

Doll, I love you more than words can say and miss you more than the air I breathe.

Fighting hard for you,

Your husband, Midoriya Izuku

To my darling husband,

Not a single day goes by that I don’t think of you. I know you tell me not to worry, but Izuku, I just can’t help it. It’s hard being so far away from you, knowing where you are and the nightmares you face everyday. I worry that you aren’t getting enough sleep nor enough energy to carry you through. Take care of yourself please, my love. If I can’t be there to take care of you, I need you to do so in my place.

It’s nearly your birthday. I hope my letter came with my little present. It isn’t much but I hope you like it. Its’a handkerchief that I embroidered just for you. I hope it serves you some sort of purpose, I had your mother give me some string to allow me to put it all together for you. She sends her love as well. She’s decided to stay with me and Mina till you all get back, which is much of a relief to me.

I surely have no idea how Mina can do it, but she’s holding on strong. Can you believe she is already six months on? The baby is starting to move and Mina believes it’s a girl. Your mother is giving her a lot of advice and I’m learning everything I can from her. She’s just wonderful for us here. We’re helping some of the other mothers that are here so that they can be strong too. It’s hard now that all of you men are gone, there’s so much to be done and so little of us left to do it but we are holding on strong. We’re making sure your uniforms get to you and so does everything you need.

Mr Todoroki is leaving tomorrow to head to the front to where you are. I convinced him to give you my letters and gift (for the price of some biscuits, which I sincerely hope you get a taste of).

They hit the power stations three nights ago. It’s been dark ever since so I’m writing by candle light at the moment. Our bed doesn’t feel like it should without you here, but I’ll keep it warm for you.

Faithfully waiting,

Your loving wife, Midoriya Y/N

To my loving wife,

I apologise for my lack of letters that you might not be receiving. We’ve been moved to another part of the country so there was not much time to sit down and write to you, nor to get my letters sent properly. It’s been a tough few days out here. Some of the men are sick with typhoid fever, but luckily we’ve had a rather calm few days. The nurses here are working hard for all of us. Especially for poor Kacchan. He managed to save some of us from a landmine, however it seems as though his hearing has been significantly impaired. I stay by his side every moment I can.

I keep your handkerchief in my breast pocket everyday and look at it as I think of you. I pray that you are well and that you are safe. Sometimes I wonder what monsters created war and why they themselves do not fight in it. However, I am just a soldier, I am just a man, and thus is my duty to defend my country and defend you.

You saved me, my love. I wasn’t able to write to you the past two weeks as I was in recovery too. I got shot at (don’t worry, I am doing well, all limbs attached and all). The bullet just managed to hit the locket instead of me. However, now I am stuck with a rather impressive scar but a broken locket.

Love, I have some reason to believe that you should get Mina, Okaasan and the girls and head out of town to Okinawa. If there is one place I know is safe, it is there. Don’t ask why, don’t hesitate either. I pray you receive this letter before it happens.

Eijiro can’t write at the moment, he injured his hand while trying to hold up some rubble to help some injured soldiers escape, but he sends his love to Mina and the little one inside her. I send my love too.

Please, once you get this, get out of town as fast as you can.

Write me a letter when you’re out.

I hope to see you soon.

Your worried husband, Midoriya Izuku

To my loving wife,

I heard on the radio about the bomb.

Dear God, I pray you had escaped before then. It has been three weeks since I sent that letter and I still have yet to hear back from you. I can only pray that you are safe. There isn’t much paper left this side, but Sargent said that we’ll receive orders on what next we should do.

I can only imagine how horrifying it must be.

I’ve heard the nukes they use is powerful enough to that our enemies are playing God, however, I doubt God is as cruel.

Eijiro worries for you, Mina and the baby and so do I.

Please write back to me when you receive this.

Your worrying husband, Midoriya Izuku.

To my darling husband,

I apologise for not being able to write to you. The train down to the coast and the boat trip to Okinawa was one where I could not even sit down to think.

You are a blessing to my life, Izuku. We managed to make it out just in time. It was the night before when we got on the next train down to the coast when we had heard of the bombing near town. Your mother nearly fell in relief. We all managed to get out, thank goodness but I can only pray for the poor souls that didn’t. I think of you everyday and I wish I could accept you into my arms.

I heard we were surrendering. Is it true?

I wouldn’t be surprised, but after all the work you men did these past months, you all deserve to come home.

Tell Eijiro, he should be glad to know that he is now the proud father of a baby girl. She was born just a few days ago. Mina was as tough as can be and the baby is as healthy as a horse. She’s the cutest little thing with big ruby eyes and dark hair. She looks just like Eijiro too. She decided on one of the names Eijiro liked. Yuna. Kirishima Yuna.

Oh she’s the most beautiful little thing in the world Izuku.

I’ve written our new address at the bottom of the letter. The money I managed to save up from your paychecks and savings was more than enough and we still have some savings left too. We’ve got a good little apartment here next to Mina’s. They said it will just be temporary until treaties have been settled, so I wonder where we will go next. Despite everything, I rather do like looking at the sea. I’ve met a few army soldiers that say they’ve met you.

You don’t know how proud I am to be your wife.

I’ll be waiting for you.

Your faithful wife, Midoriya Y/N

To my darling husband,

I heard you’ll be coming back anyday now!! I sure hope that you’re on the next ship over! I can’t wait to see you! 

I’ll be waiting on the docks for you.

Your faithful wife, Midoriya Y/N

-Glitch1d

[the-froschamethyst4]

Sharper than Steel

𖤐Pairing: Viking! König x F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Based on: viking-konig

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, fluff, P in V, dominate König, bit of an age gap, kissing/making out, arrange marriage, wife reader, mention of children, eating out, groping, public sex,

𖤐Summary: Viking König a ruthless clan leader, having a soft spot for his arranged marriage wife Y/n

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König aka King of KorTac, he was scary, heartless, cruel man or at least he was till he married his now wife Y/n.

She was a daughter of a pig farmer from another village, her parents could pay their taxes for him, so their innocent daughter became the payment instead, Y/n has been with König and the KorTac village for 5 years now, and she has never left to go see her parents in the old village.

Y/n walked in the village a small basket in her hands as she looked for food for her and her husband, König. She was looking at some apple picking out the best ones for König, he was picking they had to be a certain red, no yellow on the apples, no mushy parts, and they had to be from this one farmer because he sold the best ones.

And Y/n went to him every time König wanted apples as a desert. As Y/n was checking out the apples, a shadow loomed over her, turning she looks up.

"I'm trying to get the best for you," she says, hand on her hip, while placing a few apples into the basket and giving the farmer 3 gold coins.

"Are the red? No yellow? No mushy parts as well?"

"Are they from Farmer Luke?" She asked, looking up at her husband.

"Yeah-"

"Then, they are perfect," she tells him.

Over the years Y/n had gained to become comfortable with König, teasing him, being sassy, König didn't know this innocent, young woman, could have such a fisty and sassy side to her.

König placed his hand to his wife's back as they walked to their cabin which sat on a hill looking over the ocean and the village. König was the clan leader, he needed to know if his village was okay or not, so he build his cabin on the highest point looking over everything.

And once Y/n moved in, she changed a whole lot about the village, their shared cabin, and helping the future generation of KorTac. She build a school for the young kids, she held her own classes for the young girls, showing them how to make baskets, blankets, shoes, clothes, and many other things, but most of the girls learned how to make flower crowns instead, which didn't bother Y/n at all.

When Y/n was brought onto the KorTac island she was expecting everyone to hate her, because she was young and was with a man considered untouchable and wasn't able to love, but they loved her because she changed his mind.

Women gifted Y/n things and men treated her with respect, mainly because they didn't want to die by König. You disrespect his wife and your face will have an axe in it within seconds.

Even though Y/n and König have been together for a while, a lot of the villagers ask when will the two start having kids? König and Y/n have never really thought about having kids. Kids weren’t always on their minds, only the village and how to make it better within the years.

No kids

König looks at Y/n as he opens the door to their cabin, she sets her basket down and pulls out everything and starts putting everything in their own spots.

König goes behind Y/n putting his hands on her waist, holding her close. She smiles and looks up at him.

"What is it?" She asked.

"Oh nothing," he wanted something and it was obvious.

"König...just do it," I mean if you give him permission. König turns her around and picks her up lifting her on the table behind her. König leans forward kissing her lips.

His hands cupped her face bring her closer to the kiss, her chest against his and he smirks into the kiss, he brought her thighs up to her chest putting her into a mating press, his tongue slips past her lips and their tongue starts fighting with each other.

König then pins her down, he starts to kiss her thighs, pulling the bottom of her dress up to her waist. He licks his lips and starts to going down on her.

Licking between her wet folds, moans filled the house. König smirks kissing her folds and then his tongue goes between her folds. His tongue then flicks her bud.

He sits up and starts to aligned himself up at her entrance, he slowly pushes himself in. Y/n's head goes back hitting the wood, Y/n then looks down seeing her stomach slightly bulge with his dick inside of her.

She looks up his eyes, he leans down kissing her lips again, his hands holding her waist moving her with his motion making him also groan.

Y/n opened her arms wanting to hold König close to her body, he starts to pick up the pace a little bit. He attacks her neck earning some soft moans from her lips. Y/n then gets her fingers tangled into König's hair.

"Am I too rough?" He asks.

"No," she moans out.

König then moves her hair from her face, he kissed her temple, cheek and lips. König could feel Y/n tightening around him, he smirks and picks up the pace. Sitting up holding her waist moving Y/n fast on his dick. He smirks and felt himself twitch inside of her.

"Fuck," he cusses and looks down seeing cum leak from Y/n's lower half and he pulls out and watch the cum slowly leak from her.

"H-Holy fuck," Y/n says.

-----------

König had cleaned up Y/n as Y/n was near the stream in the backyard washing up her body. She splashes the water on her body, she sits down on a rock and takes in the little bit of sun peaking from the leaves of the trees.

König walks out of the cabin and looks for his wife, he comes out seeing her soaking in the sun and he hears her take a deep breath and release.

"You look so fucking beautiful," he says, stripping from his clothes and joining her, his hands immediately went to her waist kissing her back. His hand cupping her breast as she lets out a soft moan.

König smirks and kissed her shoulder now. "Your skin is so so soft," he says.

"The lady that sells the smell good stuff, she sold me so...lotion? I think she called it, and now my skin is so soft," she says, touching her thighs that were the softest.

König moves his hands from her breasts down her stomach to her thighs, giving her a gentle squeeze.

"Your thighs are so soft," he says, standing up and getting in front of her now, bending down and cupping her face kissing her lips and then her jaw. "Come on...let's...get something to eat," he says.

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At the dining hall, Y/n was picking off meat from her turkey leg as König was drinking, laughing with his men, men feeling up their wives. The children of the village were sent to bed early, Y/n felt her husbands hand touching her waist pulling her closer to his side.

"You smell so good."

"Lavender," Y/n says. "It's lavender."

"I love the smell," he says, his nose buried into her neck, kissing her neck.

"K-König not here..."

"No one will pay any mind to us, meine liebe (my love), and if so...I'll kill them," he says, looking up and anyone looking at them quickly turned away from their clan leader and his wife.

König picks his wife up and swiped the plate across the table putting Y/n on the table pushing her on her back, he lifts the bottom of her dress to her waist, she quickly tried to make him stop but he didn't. he smirks up at her and kissed her thighs.

"It's okay, liebe (love)."

König then licks his lips like a wild animal, licking between her wet folds, she moans and tried her best to keep quiet but she can't help it, she's loud, and that's what König likes about her.

"S-Stop it, K-König," she begs.

"I know you don't want me to," he says smacking her thighs.

She moans and leans her head back against the table, she was scared that the people might look at her and her embarrassing state, being eaten out on the table in front of all of KorTac.

"K-König," she moans again.

König would trust his tongue in and out of her, earning soft moans and then a loud one afterwards, her fingers curled around the fabric of her dress.

Her knuckles turned white and she felt her stomach start to turn. Her eyes widened knowing the feeling, she grabs König's hair trying to pull him away to make him stop.

"S-Stop, I-I'm going t-," before she could finish her sentence she ended up coming, König smirks and licks the cum that leaked out of her.

She was embarrassed she hid her face from everyone including König, she could hear him chuckling at her, she didn't dare look at him after this moment.

"Liebe (love) come on, look at me," he begs.

She fixes herself and gets off the table and heads out of the dining hall. König's never really taken Y/n on the table in front of everyone, she had the right to be upset with him.

König turns and sees his men not looking at him, he gets up and follows Y/n. She was already almost up the hill to their home.

-----------

That entire night, Y/n ignored König's pleas of forgiveness, she's in embarrassed humiliated. Y/n removed her dress and put on a big shirt that stopped at her mid-thighs. She gets in bed and ignores him.

"Liebe, please look at me...please...forgive me...I'll never ever do that again, I am so so sorry that I did that, I don't know what had come over me. I've never done that, and I'll never do that again, please...forgive me...I can't go to sleep knowing my wife...is mad at me," he begs.

Y/n was looking at the wall not facing him, he sits on his knees on his side of the bed, looking at her back like he was an upset puppy for pissing in the middle of the floor.

"Leave me alone," she says, closing her eyes and moving a bit closer to the wall.

------------

The next morning König had gone hunting, he gathered rabbit for himself and fish for Y/n. He knows Y/n hates rabbit, but will eat fish any time of the day (sorry if you don't like fish).

He starts to fix it how Y/n likes it. Speaking of Y/n, she had sat up in the bed, removing her shirt and then got dressed, she sees König fixing the food.

"Liebe, I've fixed you some fish, just the way you like it," he gives her smile but remembering what happened last night.

"No thanks," she declines.

"Y/n...you need to eat."

"Not anything from you...I have to go see the doctor now," every morning Y/n has felt sick, and she doesn't know why, some mornings she would feel sick and then an hour later would be fine for the rest of the day.

"Why are you going to the doctor?" He was worried and confused but she didn't answer him. "LIEBE!" He yells for her.

-----------

"Now Lady Y/n, I did a few tests and after some of the answers you have given me...I think...you may be pregnant..."

"P-Pregnant?"

"Yes, ma'am, are you and King wanting children?"

"We've...never talked about children," she tells him.

"Maybe it's time to let King know."

"Shit..."

------------

Y/n was nervous, her and König have never talked about having children. Y/n thought maybe they should wait a while, and König is sometimes gone and will be gone for a while.

König was sharping his axe when sees Y/n coming over the hill, he stops and gets up.

"Y/n? What is going on? Are you okay?"

"Nothing-"

"Can't be nothing if you had to go see the doctor...tell me, liebe (love)."

"....I went because every morning I've felt very sick...this morning I was fine but it comes and goes, but...I'm pregnant, King..."

Silence fell between the both of them, König was stunned and didn't know what to say, he's seen that Y/n was...growing...but didn't want to offend her in anyway.

"Liebe...this is...AMAZING!!" He picked up Y/n spinning her around and kissing her lips and holding her tightly. "Oh I'm glad," he holds her tightly against his chest. "Do we know if it's going to be a boy or girl."

He started to go on and on about everything for and about the baby, all she could do was giggle at him and how ridiculous he was being but she loved him for it.

What happened last night was gone from her memory, she had to start making new memories with her husband and child the way.

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It's been a few years now (7) and now King and Y/n have 5 children together, 3 boys and and 2 girls.

König's girls were just like their mother, and his sons were a carbine copies of him.

König stood in the woods with his sons, well playing "hide 'n' seek" as he likes to call it if he can see them or find them then their enemy could see them, he was preparing them for when they would go to battle when they're older.

"I see you Felix," he says, pointing to the tree, his son was behind it. "I see you as well, Claus," he points to a puddle of mud and his son sits up in it. "Claus, go clean yourself up your mother will have a fit if she sees you like that...now...where is Leon?"

He looks around trying to find his oldest son. Leon has grown and is very good at hiding now. Leon was camouflage he had found some leaves and covered himself hiding in some bushes, mud covering his face.

"I know where you are, son," he says as he turns and saw blue eyes staring back at him.

"Dad~" He groans.

"I saw you a while ago, but I didn't want to say anything. I always find you," he says.

Leon wipes his face. "Go clean up all over you," König says.

"Oh Claus," Y/n says trying to clean her sons body. "Why did you jump in the mud?" She asked.

"I was trying to hide, mama," he says.

"Come on," she picks him up and took him to the stream to clean him up.

"Daddy, can you play with us?" His daughters rush up to him, holding flowers in their hands.

"Sure, babies," he says, picking up his second oldest daughter and taking them to the side of the house to watch them start making flower crowns. Y/n had taught them a while ago and now they do it as something natural to them.

"Daddy, here," his daughter Heidi says, giving him one with daisies, dandelions, and honeysuckle. She placed it on his head and his other daughter Emma made him a ring of a dandelion.

"King," König looks to his left seeing Nikto.

"What is it?" He asks, a bit annoyed.

"We need to get ready."

"Daddy, where are you going?" Emma asks.

"I have to go and collect money, babies," he says, he kissed the top of his daughters head and his sons come running towards him even a naked baby Claus.

"CLAUS!" Y/n yells with a towel chasing after the baby boy, she finally wraps him. "You sneaky little boy," she says, kissing his puffy cheeks and he giggles.

"Daddy is leaving, mama," Heidi says.

"Already?" Y/n asks.

"Only for a few days," he says, coming towards Y/n and cupping her face kissing her lips.

"Ewww," their children say at once.

König walks with Nikto to the docks. König was getting weird looks from his men, he was confused till he realized that he was still wearing the flower crown his daughters had made for him.

"What the hell are you looking at?" He threatens his men, who quickly shook their heads and looked away from him.

[fan-goddess]

A Mutual Feeling Of Hate

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Strong!reader

Summary: As Aemond Targaryen rounds up the male Strongs, he realises one man is missing, and in his hunt for him, he finds you…

Warnings: Explicit talk, p in v smut, breeding kink, murder, talk of SA, oral f receiving, praise in Valyrian, riding, sadism and masochism, jealously sex, exhibitionism, marking, let me know if I’ve missed anything

Taglist: @valeskafics, @arcielee, @blue-serendipity,

Authors note: I’m not as happy as I’d like to be, but still here we go hope you guys like it. It was my first time writing on Google docs 😅

Harrenhal had never truly been your home. Throughout the years you were forced to live there, in your eyes it had always been your husbands. Although according to him and, in the more recent years to come it would soon become the home of yours and his children too..

Your husband, Geralt Strong, had been merely a second son when the two of you first married. Yet after the tragedies that struck Lord Lyonel Strong and his eldest son and heir Harwin, it soon hit you that your husband was only an accident away from being appointed the supposed honour of representing his house as its Lord. However, you were not the only one who noticed this predicament, as soon after Larys was appointed with no wife or children of his own, your husband decreed it was time for you to fulfil your wifely duties, and provide him with heirs of his own.

He’d been drunk every time that he tried to force himself onto you, but apparently he was too weak-souled to do it while sober. The man would become so incapacitated, that he’d pass out from overindulgence before he could even properly get off his breeches. For the first time in your life, you were grateful to be married to such a weak minded man.

Although, to play your role in the supposedly ever so slowly closing in win of his succession, you would force yourself to finish taking off his breaches, and stroke him till he burst in your hand, to make it seem like he’d actually completed his part. When he eventually spilled, you would always feel disgusted, wanting nothing more than to wash it all off and clean your whole body of his filth, and yet you found a strange joy  in it. Thinking that whenever you were forced to lick the salty taste off of your hands, you were practically eating his children, and his legacy from your very hands. In a strange way, you found honour as you played one of the gods…

Still, when your husband was not drunk, and managed to have his way with you, you still requested moon tea. A wet nurse that you surprisingly found yourself becoming close confidants with named Alys, would somehow always come to you whenever you need it, a small vial in her hand in preparation.

However, when the banners of war were officially brought out of hiding, and calls for soldiers and blood broke out amongst the land, your husband became much too preoccupied by the impending doom of Harrenhal to bother you. You can remember clearly in your mind the day Daemon and his men came for you all. It was something everyone present would remember. Ser Simon, the man who led House Strong while Larys was in kings Landing, was not a man in your eyes that day, as he surrendered easily during the assault of Daemon's attack. It was not difficult to spot Daemon Targaryen amongst the many of his men from your window, the colouring of his hair making him stand out when his helmet was shrugged off, and the wish that your husband could’ve been more like him stood out to you whenever you saw the man. You could not help but feel envious of the usurped queen whenever you saw him standing valiantly and without fear.

That however, was why It was strange, when the prince and all of his men left all of sudden in the night. All pondered over the reason, but then came the sound of a dragon's wings, and the distinctive noise of a dragon's roar, the sound of it echoed and vibrated through the air. It was not Daemon coming back, no. It was the colour green of their banners that told you who they were, and what this meant for you. It was time for you to shed yourself of that ‘Strong’ husband of yours.

Your husband in question has pushed past you to look on in horror as the men in green and gold marched closer. And while he was gawking down below at the sight, you yourself took hold of the intricately carved dagger that was gifted to you by your mother. There was no real need for you to be quiet, as Geralt's eyes remained solely on the now revealed Targaryen below, and when you stood behind Geralt silent to also get a glimpse of the sight, you were most definitely not disappointed.

It was not hard to decipher that it was Aemond Targaryen who stood there, and demanded that a sword be given to Simon Strong. The eyepatch that hung over his disfigured left eye made it easy to realise which Targaryen stood there. He uttered something to the trembling man, but sadly you were unable to hear what it was he spoke.

You were surprised though, when Simon Strong it seemed had finally grown a backbone, as he fought the prince in what was seemingly a trial by combat. However, it seemed he grew it too early, as the sound of clashing of swords was soon over, and instead the sound of a dragon's cry echoed soon after. It wasn’t until you heard the screams till you realised that the prince had fed the mangled corpse of the man to his dragon Vhagar. He made the man, who to you was undeserving of his own blood, into something as meaningless to his dragon as a common sheep. If you weren’t occupied with standing a few paces back from Geralt ready to strike him down, you most likely would’ve gone down to the prince and given him your utter devotion and loyalty, if he didnt make you into food for his dragon too that is.

The voice of Aemond Targaryen rings again, as you yourself twirl the dagger in your hand in preparation, and it booms loud enough for all to hear throughout the castle. “Bring me the rest of the men who possess the blood of House Strong!” You cannot help but feel excited at the tone the prince holds. Madness, and a type of pure unrelenting rage. It’s not hard to tell what the intention of his demand is, even the dumbest of men would be able figure out what he wants to do.

You almost miss your opportunity as you get swept up in your own excitement. Still, you make a noise similar to a yelp in an attempt to draw Geralt's attention from the spectacle below, and when he responds just how you had planned for him to act, with his body and neck turning swiftly to you in sudden alarm, you waste no time in plunging the dagger deep into the flesh of Geralt's neck. You can feel the warm specks of his blood as it splatters onto your face as you withdraw the blade, and as he staggers towards you while clutching the profusely bleeding wound in a poor attempt to stop it, you cannot help but find yourself smiling at the utterly pathetic sight. Thanks to the one-eyed prince and his hatred, there will be no more ‘Strong’ men left to stand in your way to freedom, and no so called ‘respected’ witnesses to your crime.

There’s a small series of grunts that manage to make their way from your husband's blood gargling throat. Although, soon his stumbles become too weak, and he collapses onto the hard stone floor. His movements are weak, as he seems to use all of his energy so he could look up and stare up at you. If you were honest with yourself, the sight before you feels like the greatest honour you could ever think of, to watch the life leaving Geralt's eyes. You feel like you are playing one of the Gods, because thanks to you, they are now forever immortalised with a permanent look of confusion and betrayal.

It hits you though, a thought of realisation that makes your very spine shiver in annoyance. The thought being, that there is no doubt about it, that the prince already has a list of names of those that he needs to kill in his rampage, in order to properly eradicate the house Strong once and for all. If he didn’t… Well then, the prince is more of an idiot than you took him for. Your husband was the man set to inherit everything if and when Larys Strong is to pass. So there is no doubt in your mind that he’ll be one that the prince will wish to make sure is dead at his feet.

There is a sudden knock at the door that drives you away from your thoughts, and you just know that it is the prince's men who have come to fulfil their orders. You take a moment to prepare yourself to play the role of the already mourning wife. The tears you feel drop from your eyes are fake, and yet as you open the door a fraction, the men who look at you see no difference. They’re young, only a couple name days older than you, and you thank the gods because of it, as with their inexperience they will be unable to decipher your tricks. In their eyes, you have already seen the taking of your husband, and by the blood on your face, he was taken not so long ago with some force.

They say no real words to you, other than a small grunt you presume is a type of apology, and leave you to your supposed mourning of your husband in solitude. Though as soon as you shut the door, you grab a chair and manoeuvre it to the window to watch the show below go on.

The sight of the one eyed prince successfully slaying an entire house brings a small smile to your face. He makes the man or boy say their name, and what makes them a Strong. The first to be slaughtered was Ser Simon, and soon after it was clear to all that not even the unclear bastards, with blood muddled and unknown origin, were even safe. None were spared from the Kinslayers blade.

From the balcony soon after the full-blooded men were slaughtered, you watched the beheading of an eleven name day old child. From your understanding of Harrenhal, the only reason that boy was here was because his mother was forced upon by the wrong man, and he refused to allow her the opportunity to rid herself of the child. It’s a sad sight, even you must admit, but there is truly nothing you can do other than let the show below go on.

It’s not long until the pile of corpses stops being enlarged, as the prince's men are forced to halt in their duty in bringing the men. The sounds of bloodshed are soon broken by the many sounds of high pitched women crying for their loves and their families. When you turn your head to look back at your own husband, still laying there in his own blood and filth, you can’t help but let out a scuff of disgust and disbelief, before turning back to continue to watch the prince.

You cannot help but ponder when it’ll happen. What will happen when the prince will eventually realise that no man has come forward to be slaughtered bearing the name of your husbands. Though it appears as soon as you begin to question it, the prince questions it too. “WHERE IS THE MAN THEY CALL GERALT STRONG?” He shouts. His voice somehow managed to echo over the sounds of the crying wives and daughters that resonated from their windows.

One guard steps forward, possibly one of the two who had visited your chambers earlier, but he’s too far to tell or not. He leans to whisper something into the prince's ear, and when the guard leans away, the prince looks somewhere in your direction. You can almost swear that you lock eyes with him, though he soon quickly looks away, before whispering some words to a knight, and beginning to walk towards the part of Harrenhal you reside in.

He disappears from your line of sight, and you begin to wonder if he’ll be searching all the rooms for Geralt. Though once again, It’s not long before you hear the sound of your chamber door being opened, with a loud creak of the handle. There is a sound of footsteps, although they seem to halt quickly. If you had to guess, they must have spotted the corpse. When you turn your head slightly, your eyes once more meet the single lilac eye of the princes. Although he does not make the contact last long as he breaks it to stare at the pitiful view of Ser Geralt Strong, still laying there in the pool of his own blood.

His face gives no indication of any particular emotion other than annoyance. Though you can’t help but notice an unfamiliar glint in his eyes as he looks back at you. “I thought I had ordered my men to bring me every living male strong.” It is not a question, as there is not a single inch of confusion in his tone. This was a statement.

“I know…” It's a strange feeling that resonates within you the longer the prince looks at you. One that makes your entire body strangely burn in a pleasurable sense. Not that you’d ever know what that would even feel like… “Your men followed their orders as they were told, my prince. As he was not alive before your men rounded them all to be apart of your genocide.”

You see that glint once more in his eye. It looks almost similar to admiration?

“I presume you are Geralt Strong's lady wife. Did you truly hate the man that much for you to risk your safety to kill him?” Again, this was not a real question. This was another statement and a demand directed for you. From the look in his eye, he already knew the answer.

“You are correct.” You say no more, and you don’t even need to, as the now dried blood that is still present on your face, slightly sticky to the touch you figured, and your eyes that have managed to remain bone dry with a matching expressionless face. They seem to say more than you ever could. Plus if anything, it seems the prince is the more emotional one in the room between the two of you. His own face holds in its possession a small smile, which looks much more akin to a prideful smirk, while your own is hellbent in an attempt to stay blank.

The two of you stay silent, him standing there not taking his eye of you, while you yourself continue to sit in your chair unmoving. It was strangely peaceful, until the prince began to walk towards you and took your throat in his hand, holding it firmly to not allow you head to move, but not too hard that you couldn’t breath.

“I suppose I must thank you…” He seems to muse, taking in your face as he presents it to himself. “Although-” He cuts himself off, peering down at your stomach with an almost pondering look. “How do I not know that you are currently hiding a Strong inside of your womb from me at this very moment?”

“Because I drink moon tea of course, my prince. Why would I wish to potentially burden my future children with the tainted blood that ran through my husband's veins, when there are hundreds of men throughout the seven kingdoms who easily possess blood ten times purer than his ever did?”

“And who are these men then my lady? Could you name a few so I may have an idea of your idea of pure blood?” He’s playing with you. Testing you even. And yet you must admit that it’s honestly the most fun you’ve had in Harrenhal the entire time you’ve been held practically as a captive there.

“Well there’s your brother of course, the king of the seven kingdoms…” The trail was unintentional, but you couldn’t help but let the next words die on your tongue just so you could admire the thundering glare on the prince's face at the mention of the king. You had heard about the disputes between the two, but you had no idea that this supposed brotherly hate ran so deep between them.

“Tell me who else,” He growls. The sound of it mixed with the feeling of his hand tightening around your neck sending the pure feeling of electricity straight to your already wet core.

“Why there’s many men, my prince! It wasn't like it was hard to possess purer blood than that of a Strong! There’s Dalton Greyjoy… Cregan Stark… Joffrey Arryn… I would even count your own Uncle Daemon to be possessing purer blood than my husband. He is probably one of the few men I would allow to give me my pure children…” With each man you list, the prince's face darkens more and more. You intended to play with the prince at first by making sure to name the men who appeared to side with his half-sister in regards to the throne. Similarly to how he had been teasing you moments ago. However, it seems you played too close to the flames. As when the name of his uncle, and now the name of a man seen as a sworn enemy of the crown, is mentioned from your lips, the prince pulls your face towards his own by the grip on your neck, and claims you with a fiery kiss. The warmth of him spread throughout you, and It truly at that moment felt like you were playing with a true dragon…

“What about me, sweet girl? Am I of purer blood than that of your dead tainted husbands? Am I worthy enough to overflow your womb with my seed and show the kingdoms of how worthy I am?” His whispers make your whole body burn up, as if the blood of the dragon was running through your veins.

“I cannot say my prince… I think you’ll have to show me if you truly think you are worthy enough…” It is the feral-like sound from which the prince releases from deep within, that reminds you once more who it is who is about to claim both you and your body. A dragon. That is what stands before you, and is ready to claim you and change your life forever.

The feeling of the prince's body forcibly overpowering your own as he drags you from the chair you were previously on to the bed, brings a feeling throughout you that Geralt could never have ever achieved.

“Present yourself fully to your prince.” The words drip with lust and desire, as he does not even wait for you to properly respond. Instead, he just tears the weak material straight from your body, leaving you left in only your small clothes before him. His single eye roams over your body greedily to take all of your nude self in. However, you can see it stop at the sight of your heaving chest, your shallow breaths leaving your chest to stutter slightly.

“Gevie…” He mutters before taking a hardened nipple in his mouth and sucking hard, no doubt forcing deep coloured marks to form soon after this is over. His mouth wanders even lower though, sucking and biting gently in his wake, before stopping at the skin of your inner thighs, biting softly at the flesh. The sensations make small whines to leave your mouth whenever his teeth seemingly went deep enough to leave indents of his teeth.

The prince does not appear to be in a hurry. As instead of acting like a true dragon would and just taking you, he just stares at the fabric concealing your dripping core from him with a hooded eye. He does not even attempt to move it, as a lone hand of his simply brushes over the fabric lightly. Your head tilts back at the pleasure, so you are unable to see him grinning proudly at the sound of your whines for him when he does this again, and again. Maybe this is your punishment for mentioning his traitorous uncle? Or maybe he is just simply teasing you again…

“Please my prince… show me how I deserve to be blessed with your seed…” You whine, the words must have driven some part of him, as the next thing you know, your smallclothes are being torn off you like the rest of your clothes, and a warm wet tongue is feasting on your cunt giving you the best pleasure you’ve felt in your whole life.

“Oh fuck!” You shout. There is no real need to be quiet, as who is there to hear you? While you yourself are moaning loud enough for the seven to hear, you almost miss the sounds of the prince's own groans, seemingly already addicted to the taste of your arousal that all but leaks from your quivering body onto his awaiting and eager tongue.

“Ao sylutegon se sȳrje … kesan brōzagon ao ñuha mērī ābra sir till se mōris…” He groans into the depth of your cunt, the vibrations adding that extra arousal needed to begin your push over the edge. The words themselves mean nothing to you, and you find that you don’t really care, as you feel the coil deep within you begin to tighten more and more. “Please my prince let me cum!” You shout, “Please my prince!” You try to stop yourself from releasing, you really do, but at the sight of the prince's head seemingly nodding in allowance, you feel yourself releasing on the prince's talented tongue harshly, leaving you breathless and lightheaded.

While you attempt to try and recover from your peak, you can still feel his tongue inside of you, the wet sounds reaching your ears. He acts as if he was trying to claim and taste the last remnants of your peak and arousal, before he no doubt soon rips another from your quivering body.

As the prince lifts his body up to take off his own clothing, you get the glimpse of his arousal covered face. In the current light, you can see his mouth and his chin shining, and it spreads an entire new feeling of arousal within you you didn’t even know was possible. It only worsens though, as you watch him collect some of your juices from his chin with his finger, before sucking on it with an appreciative sound as the taste glides over his tongue.

“Do not call me your prince, call me by my name. Call me Aemond.” He mutters, before he silences your response as he bends to your level to claim your lips with his own.

It’s the combined taste of your arousal on his lips, and the feeling of his erect cock touching the skin of your inner leg, that makes a pathetic whine leave your lips. You almost release another, when the prince, no Aemond, backs away for a moment to look at you with a hooded expression. He truly looks like a dragon about to devour you…

The prince's hands trail over your sweat layered skin with the kind savagery only seen belonging to a man in war. Because by technicality, he is. Aemond Targaryen has no idea when he will die in this Targaryen bloodshed, so he makes sure that he acts on his desires and takes all that you will give to him with great pleasure.

He pumps his cock a few times, to which you watch with eager eyes at the sight of beads of his pleasure coming from the tip of his cock. Much to your surprise and gratitude though, he inserts himself slowly inside of you, and the mixed sounds of his and yours groans of pleasure echo in the room, mixing as one.

Soon, the feeling of the prince's careful and precise thrusts whilst pleasurable, becomes not enough for you. Your legs hook around the prince's waist, and you take Aemond by surprise as you turn the two of you over and take no time in beginning to bounce harshly on his cock.

The deep groans that the prince lets out at the new position are easily one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever heard in your entire life. “Qogralbar… Konir sagon ziry… sȳz līve gūrogon aōha pleasure hen aōha dārilaros…” Again, the strange words' ,most likely to be that of Valyrian, are lost on you. But the way they sound coming from his tongue specifically, spark something almost primal deep inside. The grip that Aemond has on the skin of your thighs, will no doubt leave harsh and deep coloured bruises, and yet when you feel the sparks of pain from his actions, equally arousing sparks of pleasure get sent all the way up your spine.

Your hands grasp at Aemonds skin for some kind of stability, and your nails dig into his skin so harshly as you try to ground yourself, that you can see small droplets of blood beginning to mark the surrounding flesh. The very sight of it though does not deter you, and if anything it makes you harsher in your efforts for another peak to wash over you.

Although, Aemond surprises you by gripping at your hips and beginning to harshly thrust himself upwards into your wet heat. His cock reached the rough patch deep inside of you that you never knew existed. You were so invested in this new pleasure though, that you had no idea that at this development you had begun to practically shout your pleasures loudly and clearly into the room.

As his cock head bullies that spot inside you, one of his hands reaches to take hold of your neck similarly to earlier. But the grip he holds you now is harsher and less careful, and it makes you breathless. “Oh fuck…” You murmur as your head begins to fill with a strange fuzziness sensation. You feel like you could honestly die there and then. You’ve never felt this type of pleasure before. Never with your husband, and not even with yourself whenever you tried exploring your body as a young girl. The feelings that Aemond was giving you, made the entire world numb, and your body fucking electric.

“Will you let me shoot my seed deep inside you?” Finally, he speaks some words you can understand, other than his deep groans he was serenading you with moments ago. “Will you allow me to show the seven kingdoms the woman who carries my babe in her belly?”

The whine you let out is involuntary, as well as the imagery that comes to mind of you walking eagerly with the prince, a swelling belly officially holding the babe of a man worthy of possessing his blood inside of your womb.

“Yes my prince… show me exactly how worthy you are of me…” A devious idea comes to mind, and a smirk is present on your face as you next speak. “Show me if you truly are better than my husband, the Strong…”

Aemonds face visibly darkens with anger, and the grip that he holds your skin with tightens. His thrusts are harsh as he forcibly brings you to your peak, the feeling of it all rushing through your body at speeds you had no idea was imaginable.

Even when you feel yourself try to recover, the overstimulation begins to set in as Aemond continues to thrust up into you, even as you begin to go numb all over. Still, you’re thankful at the sound of Aemonds deep growl as you feel the warmth of his cum fill you to your brim.

As you gaze down at the heaving body of Aemond, your eyes drink him all in. The blood that you had caused to be brought up from his chest, ran in small delicate trails down his skin, and it excited you all over again to see it. 

A knock rings from the door, and to your surprise, Aemond merely sits up to hold you in his arms and tells the person to enter.

It is not a man who enters, but a boy who looks as if he was already scarred by the war he has joined. It is a pity to even look at, but it certainly looks up as you see the shock on the boy's face when he observes the room and spots the body of your former husband, now stiff and pale on the floor.

“What is it you need?” Aemond snaps, his tone making the boy's eyes snap to look at him, only for the boy's eyes to wander to you, and takes over you unashamedly. He is only able to see the nude form of your back, and yet your body still burns with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal at the situation.

“Ser Cole said that when we are sure all the male Strongs were dead, we were to await your orders my prince.”

“Now that the males are dead, I command you to tell the others to make sure that they leave no Strong alive, except this one… this one will be of great use to me…” Aemond murmurs, a single finger tracing the skin of your face to look only at him, as he gazes at you deeply.

You can hear the door shut behind you, and while the silence overcomes the room you cannot help but question Aemonds previous command. “What of the women like me?” The prince raises a single brow, as if he is confused. Yet he is Aemond Targaryen, the man who has near successfully committed a whole genocide on a single house in one day. You cannot allow him to dodge a question on the basis of fake confusion. “Women born not of house Strong, and yet sold to them to be wedded and bedded for their blood to be spread?”

“Why little one they too must die, for they have had the seed of a strong taint their womb forever more. While you on the other hand my lady, knew of the tainted blood of House Strong, and rightfully rid yourself of any opportunity to taint yourself. House Strong must die, my darling, and not only by blood, but by name as well. Surely you must understand, given out shared hatred moments ago?”

“Is my name not Strong currently, my prince?” You tease. Your face widening in a content smile as Aemond dots wet and no doubt marking kisses on the skin of your neck, high enough so your collars may not cover them, so all could see who has done this to you.

“Soon my darling… soon it shall be Targaryen. And it shall also be the name of my son who is currently sleeping in your belly…”

His hand traces your skin, and you hope he does not raise it higher in fear that he will hear the sound of your heart racing at his words. You cannot find yourself able to reply to him, as the words seem to die in your throat. Instead, you simply lay your head on his shoulder, and try to blank out the high feminine screams of your fellow women as they begin to echo on the cold castle walls. The single tear that begins to roll from your eye could easily have been from the emotional turmoil you have faced, or it could easily be sadness and regret of what you have just done. You will never know…

High Valyrian Translates Part:

• Gevie - beautiful

• Ao sylutegon se sȳrje… kesan brōzagon ao ñuha mērī ābra sir till se mōris - You taste the best… I will call you my only woman now till the end

• Qogralbar… Konir sagon ziry… sȳz līve gūrogon aōha pleasure hen aōha dārilaros - fuck… thats it… good whore take your pleasure from your prince

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 2

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader; Word Count 3.4k

Warnings: Swearing, Sexism

A/N; Hi everyone! I am so glad you guys liked the first part! It was so much fun to write, and when someone asked for this to be multi-chapter, I just couldn't get it out of my mind. So here's another part! I have no clue how long this will be yet, but I do have a plot in mind. Please enjoy, have fun, much love , <3. - Mo

Eli and you made a pact to not tell the family that you now BOTH were working for one of the most feared men in the city. Eli would’ve been berated for an hour or two at best, thrown out at worst. You? One could only imagine how many years you would be locked in your room. When your mother and father asked about your interview and your new boss, you gave the prettiest pieces.

He is quite successful papa. The bakery is very large, easily 100 men employed!

Yes mama, I get my own desk, and I get Rosh Hashanah off.

Yes papa he is Jewish. Yes very respectable. No I don’t know what Temple he attends.

Yes mama Eli never left my side. And I suppose he is handsome. No mama I don’t know if he is married.

Your mother bustled about, checked all of your dresses and stockings, making sure they were all in perfect condition for your new job. She checked your bag of supplies possibly 30 times by the end of the night, just to ensure that you had everything you could possibly need, even things you may not have needed. A mother could never be too careful.

The next morning as you began to walk out of the door, your mother and father kept fussing over you, straightening your hat and sweater.

“Now dear since Eli’s shift does not start till later you will have to walk yourself ok? Be careful, don’t talk to anyone, you go right to the office yes?” Your mother reminded you for the umpteenth time.

“Yes mama of course. Straight to work.”

“And be on the look out for those awful gangsters poppet. The Peaky Blinders have been seen milling about town, and you know that God forsaken Solomons has his disgusting paws on every corner of the city.” Your father grunted out still drinking his morning tea.

You felt the tips of your ears warming. You hated to lie. You were so bad at it. “Of course papa. I’ll be careful, I love you! I might be home late, I’ll send Eli to alert you.”

You kissed them both and made your way down the street. Excited for a new start, and for what the day may hold.

It’s interesting how Alfie insisted on being at the office at 8, yet still had not shown up by 8:20. Thankfully Ollie had given you a tour of the distillery, shown you your desk (situated right in front of Alfie’s door) and given you the times of the meetings today. You had taken the liberty of starting up some tea on the small stove by your desk, and clearing out some of the crumpled paper strewn out across the floor. ‘Honestly for such a tyrant he really keeps this office unruly.’

You hear your name bellowed from outside the office, and you run out quickly. There you see Alfie, smiling at you. “Shalom my little viper! So you weren’t bluffing were you? Glad to see you aren’t as cowardly as Eli.”

You crossed your arms and you felt your mouth firm, “Shalom Alfie. You are late this morning and I have to talk to you about todays schedule. Ollie had to show me around the distillery and he informed me that you have 5 meetings today, FIVE! One of them is set to start in 20 minutes, and -.”

“Now now treacle hold your tongue, be sweet to me yeah? My back. Let get to work yeah?”

It was only then that you noticed the cane he was clutching. You immediately felt your chest become heavy, and guilt override. “Oh..Alfie I’m so sorry I didn’t know I-“

“Hush now pet don’t even begin to fuss. It’s just my back yeah?”

“What are you taking for it?”

Alfred just scoffed and rolled his eyes walking away from you and into his office.

“Mr. Solomons what are you doing to help your back!?”

“Be quiet woman! You want the whole town to know that Solomons’ got a bad back? Hush damnit! Now what is on the calendar? Who am I meeting with?”

“Well you have a Mr. Abrams coming in at 8:40. A Mr. Clochester at 10. Rabbi Rubin at 12. And a Mr. Shelby at 4. But you’re not seeing anyone until you-“

“Till I what huh? Till I what? Are you my mother? No! Now hush! Ollie! Get this woman a notepad now! Treacle sit there on that coach and be quiet!”

You just stared at Alfie, and you couldn’t help but feel shame and embarrassment. And Alfie was faring no better. He could see hints of tears threatening to spill, but your chin set firm, fists clenched. Alfie wanted grab you in his arms and… tell you he was sorry, but…

“Aw fuck… treacle… no you’re right. Treacle come please. What do you think?”

“Think about what Mr. Solomons?”

“Nah fuck that I told you Alfie. Tell me what you think I should do about these meetings and my damn back.”

"No not at all Alfie. If you don't need anything for the pain in your back then you don't. I'm just a woman right?

"Well now you're acting like a fucking child."

"Of course Alfie. Whatever you say Alfie."

You closed your ears off to what he was barking at you. Fine. If he wanted to suffer, he could suffer. It was far too early to fight with such a stubborn...beast of a man. And besides, you had things to attend to.

Despite the tiff this morning, the day went by smoothly. As smoothly as it can be in the distillery you supposed. Mr. Abrams left the room with a black eye and tears, promising he would never lie to Alfie again. Mr Colchester left more bloody than he came in. Rabbi Rubin was a delight, complimenting the tea you made, and scolded Alfie for not coming to temple recently.

Throughout the day, you could slowly but steadily see the stiffness working it's way up Alfie's spine. Though it didn't quite deter him from inflicting pain and vengeance on those who came in, you kept your eye in careful study. The small twitches of his eye. The rougher grunts when he got up from his seat, and the heavier footsteps as he walked around. You also noticed that he hadn't eaten all day, and when you asked about it he merely mumbled, "mmnot hungry''. But based on the way he quickly avoided your gaze when you caught him staring and the loud grumbling you heard at 3, you figured his resolve would have to melt soon.

At 3:45 you were at your desk, drafting out some letters Alfie had requested. It was while you were in deep focus, chewing on the tip of your thumb when you heard a soft cough.

Your head snapped up, and you were met with the iciest eyes you had ever set your eyes on.

Pretty.

That's the only thing you could think as you looked at the man in front of your desk. Clean shaven. Well dressed. The smell of tobacco and soap and...something secretive radiating off of him. You internally shook yourself out of you consideration of the man to finally say, "Good Afternoon sir, how can I help you?"

He smiled, in a soft way though you felt a rush in your chest, "My name is Thomas Shelby, I have a meeting with Mr. Solomons."

Oh. This is Thomas Shelby. Leader of THE Shelbys. "Oh yes Mr. Shelby I've been expecting you. You are a bit early, so if you could please sit. Can I offer some tea?"

He nodded, turning to the soft couch across from your desk, "Tea would be lovely, thank you love."

After serving him tea, you went back to work at your desk till the clock struck 4. At least you tried to. You felt those eyes all over you. You felt as though every muscle movement was being scrutinized. "Since when did Alfie get a secretary?"

"Today is my first day, he hired me yesterday."

Thomas hummed in understanding, looking out the window to your left, admiring the soft rain. "If I may be so bold, could I ask your name? I don't like not knowing who gave me tea."

You gave your name, looking directly into his eyes. He repeated it back, as if he was feeling out every consonant on his lips. Even though it was an innocent enough question, you couldn't shake the feeling that you needed to be on the offensive. As if he wanted something. "Where did he find you? You're far too pretty to be working for someone like Alfie."

"I found him. And I can assure you Mr. Shelby that my face had nothing to do with my hiring."

"As you wish darling."

As soon as he said it, you heard your name being called from inside Alfie's office. You quickly got up to meet him, and felt those eyes all over you.

Alfie looked horrible. His hair was sticking up in all directions, his vest and shirt were both half done, and he was scribbling away on some paper, "Oi, is that bastard here yet?"

"Mr. Shelby? Yes, he is sitting down waiting for you. I've just given him tea."

His head rose from his hands, and his thick brows were furrowed together, "The fuck did you give him tea for? He doesn't need tea, no he doesn't deserve tea!"

"Alfie you can have tea too if you ask me."

"No no no already told you I don't want tea. I don't want lunch. I don't want your help beyond taking the notes. I am a grown man damnit! Now for fucks sake, bring that damn bastard in here, sit on the couch, take the notes, and hush your mouth!"

He was teetering. This wasn't just being a gangster. This was a child who was fighting to take a nap. He was going to snap soon. So you just smiled cheekily, "Of course Alfie. I'll be right back."

You nearly skipped to the door. Alfie was growing increasingly frustrated, "AND TAKE AWAY THAT FUCKING CUP. NO ONE GETS TEA."

You did take the tea cup away from Mr. Shelby , and ushered him in, settling yourself down on your seat with your pad and pencil.

As Mr. Shelby settled in, he smiled and looked at Alfie, who was looking more and more disgruntled, "Good Afternoon Alfie. You look well."

"Fuck off Tommy. What do you want?"

"Yes the weather is quite dreary, but I am doing well thank you. But yes let's get down to it. Alfie...are you familiar with gaming clubs?"

In your opinion, this meeting should have taken 30 minutes at most. But you were going on hour 3 at this point. 7 o'clock and you were growing tired. You know Eli had already gone home to tell your parents you were held up. This was becoming ridiculous.

The idea was interesting enough. Gaming clubs have been an up and coming social house for the high society. Men (and their women) would gather in clandestine areas, playing cards, placing bets, drinking, doing snow, all types of things. But the real trade was information. Yes their main products would be successful in such places, but the information that would be dripping from loose lips would bring more power than they could get now. More than they could get in decades.

The only thing they disagreed on was the split ownership. Alfie offered a 90/10 split. And when Tommy refused Alfie was quick to pull his gun. And maybe you should have been afraid, but frankly you were too irritated with Alfie to care, or to believe this petulant act he was putting up. Your pad was almost filled with doodles, crossed out numbers and terms when they finally shook on it, you would write up the agreement in the morning.

As Tommy stood to leave so did you, and when he took your hand to shake it, he raised your knuckles to his lips, pressing a kiss and giving a wink. Your eyes widened at his boldness. He smirked at your response, turning to Alfie again, "Love the new secretary Alfie. Definitely brightens up the place."

He turned back to you and tipped his hat to you, "See you soon darling."

Tommy sauntered out of the door, and Alfie stayed standing until the door closed and he heard his steps fade. It was then that Alfie nearly collapsed into his chair, hands rubbing his face, "Treacle come here."

You came and sat right back in the chair Tommy Shelby just occupied, "You want me to reread the agreement to you?"

"Nah I trust you got it. Just write it up tomorrow. But listen to me yeah? You do not go near Thomas Shelby. I know the young girls tend to fancy him but listen to me... that man is evil. He is not safe. And I don't want you caught up in his nonsense."

"He's evil yet you're doing business with him."

"I'm a bad man darling, but that doesn't mean you need to get wrapped up in it. Just say that you won't fratrenize with him alright? Or do you need to fight with me about this as well?"

You nodded, "I understand."

You just stared at him, waiting for him to dismiss you when you heard his stomach growl again, and his face twitch in pain, hand rushing to his back. "Are you ready to admit defeat Alfie?"

He scowled at you, "I don't know what you're talking about. Go home it's late, you don't need to stay."

You smiled, "If it's already late no difference is made at this point. But I'm not about to let my boss go home hungry and in pain... or go home without saying I was right."

He puffed out his lip, "There's nothing to eat here anyway."

"I brought you lunch. Beef, roasted veg, and bread."

He looked at you quizzicaly before you said, "Eli told me that Ollie told him that you haven't been eating recently. I just took upon myself to bring you something. There's also a muffin, but you will have to share."

You heard him say something about mutiny, but then told you to go fetch the lunch you brought him. You only brought enough for one lunch for him, but he ended up insisting you share with him, since, "You haven't eaten supper. It's not right."

Eventually, once his stomach was warm with a good meal, you got him to let you tend to his back. "What are you going to do hmm? Give me a strange draught your grandmother taught you that will make me vomit for three days?"

You laughed brightly, and he couldn't help but smile and stare at the way you threw your head back and laughed loudly. Deep in his chest he hoped that you would let him make you laugh like that forever.

"No you ridiculous man. My father was in the war, and he got shot in the shoulder. He lived thankfully, but he feels a deep pain like you do. The muscle tightens and he can't move. We get a hot rag, place it on his shoulder, and my mother needs to work out the pain."

Alfie felt a flush on his neck, "Well that would require me to take my shirt off darling."

You rolled your eyes, "For a gangster you act like a child. I won't tell if you won't Alfie. Now will you cooperate?"

In truth you hadn't thought that far into it. But it was pitiful to see him like this, and you can definitely be professional about this. Alfie shrugged and pulled off his vest and shirt, and you couldn't help but feel the heat rise, and not just from the hot rag in your hand.

You knew he was imposing, it was hard not to see him and hear him. But seeing the breadth of his shoulders, the width of his body and the hair on his chest made your cheeks heat up and your face freeze. Alfie caught your stare, smirking, "Now who's acting like a child?"

You rolled your eyes, and placed the rag on his lower back, hearing him hiss and try to relax into the heat. You began to work the knots out of his back when he asked, "Do your roommates know where you are?"

"My roommates are my parents, Eli, his parents, my little sister, my younger brother, and our grandparents. And they know that I am at work, helping my boss finish a business meeting. Eli told them."

Alfie nodded, "Do they... know where you work?"

You smiled, "They know that my boss is a respectable jewish man, who owns a large bakery that employs many many men, and that I get my own desk."

He snorted, "So you lied to them?"

"Not lie. Just...reframed it for them. Shall I tell my mother that I am the secretary of the fearsome Alfred Solomons? Or should I tell my father that I directly disobeyed his orders to stay away from Solomons boys, and went directly to the top?"

He laughed, "Alright now alright... so why this office? Educated girl like you can't work anywhere else? Unlikely, seems like you like being rebellious to me."

"Well... if you can believe it Mr. Solomons... my back talk does not do me many favors. Truthfully... Eli brought me here because you were my last chance at independence. It was either your office, or I would have to visit the matchmaker."

A silence washed over you, and you began to worry that you shared too much. "Well... I like that you speak your mind. Even if it drives me fucking nuts. Never give it up darling. You stay just the way you are alright?"

You smiled softly to yourself, "Yes Alfie."

A comfortable silence took its' place, and you eventually were able to work out all the knots from his back. You began to pack up your bag, and as Alfie redressed himself he asked, "Is Eli coming to pick you up?"

"No I don't think so. He is probably having to help with the tailoring, and he won't be able to step away. I'll be ok."

"Fuck no. You're a woman, you don't walk alone at this time at night, especially not here. I'm taking you home."

"You don't think women are capable of taking care of themselves?"

"No I know you could hold your own darling, but it is cold and I am not about to let you get hurt on my watch. Come we'll take the car."

The drive to your house was comfortable. You couldn't understand it. You had only met Alfie yesterday. And yet you felt as though you had known him for years. As if you never knew life without him. The whole ride you talked. From business for tomorrow, his childhood, his dog, your interests and what your opinions were on the business. You laughed and spoke the entire time, and it felt like no time passed. The car pulled up right to your door, and Alfie walked to your door to open it for you and help you out, "Alright watch your step treacle, still wet from the rain yeah? There you go darling."

You took his hand, and your breath hitched at the contact, his warm and rough hand covering yours. You looked up into his eyes, face partially obscured by his hat, "Thank you Alfie. You didn't have to."

"Of course I did. And it was no trouble. If you are kept in the office till dark, I drive you home yeah?"

You nodded with a smile, and he shook his head in affirmation, "It's a deal then. Now get inside you little viper, you'll catch a cold."

You began to walk to the door, turning around to say, "Goodnight Alfie."

He smiled, "Goodnight darling."

As you walked up the stairs to the home of your family, you couldn't help but run through the day in your head. Especially the end of it, smiling to yourself and feeling the rush in your stomach. You opened the door as quietly as you could, but heard you mother say, "Who was that in the car dear?"

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

ive been thinking a lot on the differences in how we view adulthood now vs back in roman times. on one hand yeah people came of age at a significantly younger age than they do now, legally speaking. but being an adult didn't mean the same thing to 1cenBC romans as it does to us. an adult was usually still under the power of a paterfamilias. idk ive been thinking about it bc as a teenager i was incredibly frustrated with my lack of agency and rights, esp cuz it seemed ridiculous in the historical perspective because usually people historically came of age in their mid teens. but now that im older and know more on how Rome functioned, its not as cut and dry as that. i was wondering if u had any thoughts on how the romans viewed adulthood?

What is adulthood, anyway?

Is it the right to make legal decisions for yourself? The 25-35% of Rome's population who were enslaved didn't have that. And as you pointed out, folks under the authority of a paterfamilias may have had limited or no legal independence. (They might have more independence in practice, though, as they got older, moved out or got married.)

Is an adult someone who works and provides for their family? Most Roman children worked, especially enslaved children. You watched and copied whatever your parents did, so you learned adult responsibilities fairly quickly. A 14-year-old Roman bride was expected to manage her husband's household, slaves, and often his finances and business - especially while he was off at war or trading. If needed, she would probably lean on her mother-in-law and other female relatives for guidance.

Is an adult someone who can legally and mentally consent to sex? Although many Romans thought sex with pre-adolescents was bad taste, the legal issue wasn't "Is this person old enough?" but "Has the body of a citizen, or a paterfamilias' dependent, been violated?" If you were a slave, or a girl married to a creep, you were out of luck.

Many cultures, including the ancient Romans, don't really consider "teenagers" a distinct age group. They're more likely to see teenagers as young adults, who might be more naive or irresponsible or in need of guidance due to inexperience, but functionally adults.

For Roman aristocratic men around 15-30 there's this odd tension, where they might be dismissed as overgrown boys or expected to act like mature men, depending on the speaker's perspective. In the Pro Caelio, Cicero asks us to give Caelius the benefit of the doubt for being only ~26 or so, as a father might indulge his son. But 20-year-old Julius Caesar had been entrusted with negotiating with a king, as ambassador to Bithynia. Nicolaus of Damascus tells us that well after being legally recognized as an adult, traipsing through a warzone, and becoming one of Caesar's staff, Octavian was still treated like a kid at home.

It may also be useful to scale our age range up: that 14-year-old girl was likely to outlive her husband, and probably had much more say in choosing her second and third marriages than her first. And as Roman marriages shifted from cum manu to sine manu, women became sui iuris (legally independent) at younger ages than before, because they only had to wait till their fathers died instead of their husbands. They could then own their own property, with some limits on how it was supposed to be used - unlike Victorian wives, whose property became their husbands'. So, when would we call a Roman woman an adult, and what do we mean by that?

You make a good point about modern teens being denied their rights, too. I think that's a more individualistic way of framing it than the Romans would have used - they put more emphasis on your duty to your family - but it is a real problem. "Protecting kids" usually translates into restricting what young people can do, but not teaching them how to stay safe, make good judgments, or get support. When they do ask for help, they're usually dismissed as whiny or lazy.

I'd love to see more mixed-age spaces where adults and teens can talk about their shared interests, or work on cool projects like volunteering together. I think that will help break down adults' stereotypes of teens and fears about "kids these days," and teens will probably feel a lot less overwhelmed by the future with older friends they could ask for advice. Plus, it would provide an escape for teens with abusive families. The animal shelter where my mother volunteers is like that, and it's been really neat to see her learning new things, and the younger folks coming out of their shells.

[dulcewrites]

Gone… but Not Forgotten

Pairing: Aemond targaryen x reader

Summary: Aemond and you always had a great relationship. But as the Dance of the Dragons begins and tensions rise, you find yourself on the outside looking in.

Warnings: mentions of stillbirths/allusions to pregnancy problems

A/N: so this is based on a request I received. I tweaked some things to make it a bit easier for me to write. Reader is non descriptive but I did take a lot of inspo for the house from the Summer Isles and the people who live there. Also I wanted to do something different with this. Since Fire and Blood is based on accounts - by septon Eustace, grand maester munkun, and of course mushroom lol, I thought it would be interesting to write how I think this story would be told from their perspective. Kind like how there’s three versions of the story, one person’s, the other’s… and then the truth. So the Fire and Blood accounts will be in italics and everything else is normal.

Link to ao3

Years after the marriage between then Prince Aegon Targaryen, Second of his Name, to his sister Princess Helaena Targaryen, many in the realm wondered when the second son of King Viserys and Queen Alicent would be wed. There was an assumption that Prince Aemond would marry to help build an alliance for the Targaryen house. Despite this assumption, it still came as a surprise when the news of betrothal between Prince Aemond and a young girl from far south of Westeros reached the rest of King’s Landing. The maiden being from a peaceful yet large island away from the fealty of the Seven Kingdoms; the girl a princess in her own right.

Septon Eustance tells us that Lord Otto Hightower, Hand of the King, saw a future need for swan ships and strong archers, traits of the military of the island. With the marriage came the agreement of loyalty and men. Eustance also says that the marriage was purely for alliance; the two young people having little connection, even a dislike for each other. Mushroom, on the other hand, tells us that the Prince and his betrothed were often described as close and loving towards each other. He also says that the marriage happened against the true wishes of both families. The situation being forced to marriage after they were found in a compromising situation by Queen Alicent’s sworn sword, Ser Criston Cole. The two entangled in passion that would leave anyone to question the chasteness of the princess.

The wedding was a festive event, one to rival the celebrations held for union between the eldest son and only daughter of the Targaryen House. People from all over came to give well wishes, including a surprising appearance from Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon. Mushroom recounts seeing Prince Daemon ask his new family member for a dance. Shared smiles and secret whispers flowing between the two.

Everything between the two seemed to be fine till the princess had yet to conceive a babe two years into the marriage. Some speculated that the two had failed to even consummate the marriage. Others closer to King’s Landing said that the princess could not keep a babe full term. The young girl struggling with two stillbirths.

Despite the tongues that wagged against couple, the princess was well liked in King’s Landing. The small folk taking a liking to new face in the castle much like how they embraced Queen Alicent. The Targaryen reign often being contested by small folk. She could often be found helping small folk. A pretty and pious butterfly amongst dragons. An outsider that embraced people as if they were her own.

One thing all accounts can agree on is that her untimely death set ripples through Westeros.

You tried to tell Aemond, you really did.

“It seems that you are with child, Princess.”

The words made you pause. You had pulled Master Landyn to the side weeks ago because of the upset stomach. You had expected him to send you on your way with a tea or herbal remedy.

It is not that Aemond and you had stopped trying to have a child. It had been two long years of trying with no success. It seems your mother was right, once you stop putting so much pressure on yourself, a babe would come. He would be happy… at least you think he would be. Aemond always tries to be understanding, but you saw the looks of disappointment and confusion whenever a maester would tell you two that you were not pregnant.

There was something slightly infuriating about how Aegon and Helaena, two people that never wanted to be married, had no problem producing heirs. As much you love your good sister and your niece and nephews, sometimes it was hard not to feel bitter.

Aegon’s jabs about Aemond having a possible impotence did not not help either. You know Aemond would never admit this to anyone but, you but intimacy is something both of you had to work on. Especially when it came to sex. With relationship came a lot of hardships, and breaking down walls both of you had put up.

The babe will be a reflection of love.

The first time you tried to tell him, you interrupted by the news of King Viserys dying. He rushes out the castle to find his brother before the words can come out. You debate telling Queen Alicent or even Helaena, but the tense air around the Red Keep keeps you locked away in your chambers till Aemond comes back.

“My love, I think we should talk,” you frown taking in a disheveled Aemond. He holds his hand up to stop you before ripping off his eyepatch. His head hitting the pillow gingerly.

“I know what you want to say,” he sighs. Your heart begins to race. Did Master Landyn go against your wishes and tell Aemond. “I do not want to talk about… him.”

Your shoulders slump in sadness for your husband. The relationship between Viserys and his children is complicated; the King never showing his four other kids the same love he did towards Rhaenyra. Not to mention the cruel manner he toyed with Queen Alicent. Though Aemond may not mourn his father, you are sure he will think about how now there is no chance for a mended family dynamic.

You squat down beneath the bed, and push a stray silverly strands from his face.

“When the time comes, I’ll be here when you do want to talk,” you whisper, smoothing out the frown on his face. “Maybe you work through that a different way. Aemond I-“

A knock at the door stops you. Aemond sits up slowly, vacant look in eye. You let out a frustrated huff before telling the person to come in.

“I’m sorry to interrup, but the Queen wants you in her chambers Princess,” your lady in waiting tells you softly.

You never find the words to tell him the news over the following days. It did not come the morning of Aegon’s coronation. It did not even come after you thought your life would be taken by Princess Rhaenys’ dragon. The words flow easier on paper as you write to your parents and confidants back home. There was a horrible sinking feeling in your gut.

As you grow a life, it hits you that yours has never been more in danger.

The Princess’ death is a point of contention in Targaryen history. While many of the deaths during that time are accounted for, hers continues to garner speculation.

Her parents, The King and Queen, were not shy to say they think their oldest child and only daughter was murdered by her own husband. The death of their daughter leading to the dissolution of the alliance to between the two families. A deep hatred pointed towards both sides of the dance. While the Greens made a point to reiterate that the Princess tragically took her own life; the pressure of the impending war being too much to bear. Queen Alicent insisted that it was the cruel nature of the Blacks that led to her good daughter not feeling safe.

Grand Maester Munkun tells that the Princess begged for her life to be spared, not for her sake but for the life of the her child. Mushroom tells a more sinister story. One of the princess being tortured by the family and left in woods away from the King’s Landing. Some of the small folk think of a different story. The Princess, in all her resourcefulness, ran away from the war.

Paranoia is at an all time high in the Red Keep. Everyone trending lightly since Aegon has been named king. As if everyone is waiting for the next catastrophe to happen. You carry the blood of a dragon inside of you, and yet you have never felt more like an outsider. Your husband, who always made a point to be a attentive, distant and cold.

The kisses are short, the hugs are different. Not the warm ones exchanged in private; the ones where you get to take in how nice he always smelled.

Something was wrong. You just could not put your finger on why.

Things only got worse after Daeron when to Storm’s End on the behalf of the family to forge a pact with the Baratheons. An argument breaking out between him and Prince Lucerys. It only made Aemond more uptight… more cautious of everything and everyone. Including you.

Hushed whispers and slight glances. You were the odd one out. Even with the completely different customs between your culture and Valyrian culture, you felt apart of the family.

War not only brings destruction, it brings division too.

“One poisonous flower has the ability to taint the whole garden.”

An off handed comment made by Helaena had been on your mind for days. As the rest of your family strategized, you were left to your own devices. You found yourself gaining the same sense of paranoia that stifled the rest of your family. Expect your ire was not only directly at the other side of the impending war, but towards the people you should trust the most.

Helaena tells you about the network of spies that works within the castle. Ones that Lord Hightower keeps in place despite how easily something could slip through the seams. You take whatever information you get from Helaena since no one else seems to want to keep you in the loop.

Everything came to a head one night when you are summoned to the Great Hall at the behests of the King.

Aegon and you never talked much. In fact, you think he has actively ignoring you since you for years. Helaena and Alicent said that is just the way he is. He cares little about things that do not directly affect him. Aemond theorized that you were the walking embodiment of how Aemond gets a choice, and he does not. Jealousy is a trait Targaryens take to a new level.

He looked straight out a Targaryen tapestry, sitting leisurely on the Iron Throne. Conquer’s crown titled to the side and Blackfyre leaned against him.

“My good sister, you are glowing,” Aegon’s cheery tone puts you on edge.

Your hand instinctively goes to your belly. You had not started showing yet but it was only a matter of time, and you were still not sure when to tell Aemond. The excitement and anticipation of another Targaryen babe waning after Viserys’ death.

“I wanted to see if news with your parents had changed.”

Your parents had sent ravens saying they will send men and ships is need be but you knew they were apprehensive to make any moves. In their eyes, this was not their fight. Despite his military prowess, you are shocked your father did not see this outcome. Swords were always going to be drawn over the crown.

“They are telling me as much as they are tell you, my King. I do expect them to sail here soon,” you try to put a smile. Aegon gives you a once over, eyes lingering on your stomach before meeting your eyes. A sparkle in his eye.

“You know I had the most interesting conversation with Maester Landyn,” he laughs sarcastically.

Fuck

“He was telling me how a new babe is just the thing this family needs to lift our spirits. I was quite confused because Helaena is not with child, and mother surely is not.”

He tilts his head at you with a smile. If drunk Aegon was mean, well a sober Aegon was cruel. It reminds you of the countless arguments you overheard between him and his mother. If only Aegon could stay sober and have something to work towards… he’d be dangerously good.

He drinks, but not nearly as much as he did pre his coronation.

“And I was thinking, that leaves only one person,” he continues taking more steps towards you. “Why would my sweet sister in law keep such great news from us?”

He pauses as if he is waiting for you to answer but as you open your mouth to explain, he holds up his hand to stop you.

“Unless you have a reason to be keeping it from my brother,” the fake cheery tone has left his voice.

He thinks you have cheated on his brother, and if he thinks that… what does Aemond think?

“Your brother is the only man to touch that way,” you say appalled by the accusation. “And the only man who will. He is the father.”

Aegon hums at the answer. Your eyes go past him to Blackfyre, leaning against the throne. Thanking the Gods he does not have it on him.

“Some say otherwise. My sister, if you have something to hide, this is a warning.”

Before you can ask who would even dare to accuse you of that, one of his guards comes into Great Hall calling for him. You turn to watch him go with panic flowing through your body.

Gods be good.

Because the Princess was the oldest child of the parents, much of the wealth and land was supposed to pass through her to her children. Many assumed that her land would go to Prince Aemond. Her family argued that her memory should not be tainted by their possessions going to her murderer.

Mushroom tells us that Queen Rhaenyra sent ravens with letters condolences to the family. He says she overstepped by mentioning the missed opportunity to marry their daughter to her son, Jacaerys Velaryon. There was whispers that Rhaenyra resented the Princess and her family after they made it clear that marrying a bastard would bring shame to them.

Her family supported no one during the dance, much to the chagrin of both sides. Mentioning that their daughter and grandchild was collateral damage.

“You know I love you, right?”

The words seem to rush out your mouth and fall on flat. Aemond gives you a curt nod before walking out of your chambers.

News of your pregnancy only seemed to excite Helaena and Alicent. The Dowager Queen going as far too plan a dinner in honor of her next grandchild. You realized how deep of a hole you were in with Aemond when his reaction was not what you expected.

If you kept it from him, it would only make it look like you did actually cheat. But telling him after the supposed rumors only made you look guilty. You do not know how many ways to tell him he is the father. Maybe a head full of blonde hair would do the trick.

It is hard to make small talk with your sister and mother in law while you feel Aegon eyes all bearing into you.

Symptoms of your condition had finally started to kick in. Nausea and lack of appetite showing up, even during the dinner. The only thing you seem to be able to get down is the sweet berried juice that Aemond tells you the kitchen made special for you. For a moment you think it is an olive branch, even if it is a small one. He used to ask the cooking hands about making desserts and treats you like. Ones you had back home.

It’s atart, with an interesting taste like nothing you have had before. Almost addicting.

You smile when you feel Aemond’s hand push a stray hair from your face. He returns a smile that you can only describe as sad. Your head begins to pound, so much that you almost miss when Aegon tells Alicent and Helaena that you should get more rest.

“I’m sorry,” Aemond says it once you two has left the room. You give him a confused look when he leans over and kisses your temple.

“For what,” your words come out more slurred. He does not answer, just continues to walk you back towards the living quarters. You giggle a bit when you stumble a bit. “Are you sure they did not put in wine in the juice.”

Your laughs are the only thing that ring through the silent room. He lays you down on your bed, sitting on the edge to tucking you in. The pounding in your head continues to drum on, working opposite to how slow your actions feel.

“You are gonna be such a good father,” you say softly.

Aemond flashes you a hurt look, and hums.

“Yeah… I would have been.”

His words make you furrow your brow. What does he mean would have been? You try to sit up to ask but your body stays flat.

“Aemond… my love,” you try to reach for him as he gets up to leave the room.

“I am so sorry.”

He repeats the words, and panic sets in. Something is not right but your body will not react the way your brain wants it too. The room starts blur as Aemond’s walking figure fades into blackness.

Grand Maester Munkun recounts that Prince Aemond never remarried nor had any romantic relationships after his lady wife dies. He says the Prince spends the rest of his short life in service to his family, specifically his brother. His mother and sister never seeing him or his brother the same way.

He was told by those close to the family that the Prince never recovered from her death. It is said he searched for clues as to who could have been with his lady wife, but had no luck. Mushrooms tells of a harrowing idea...the Princess' infidelity was sparked by rumors created by Prince Aemond own uncle, Prince Daemon and his mistress Lady Mysaria. The word traveling from Dragonstone to the Red Keep through spies. 

[chysalxsm]

─── ❝ DILFFLIX ❞ ───

Misbehaving pt.1: [pt.2]

Day 1: of my DILF series. This contains DILF!Professor Zhongli x reader. Heavy smut so read at your own risk. Hope you guys enjoy it and have a nice day/night🤍

DILFLIX: Event

This was a request from @tsuyato !

Contains: Dom!Zhongli, Sub! gn reader, Teacher/Student, reader is 18+, degrading, spanking, name calling (darling, sweetheart, love, slut), fingering,oral (reader receiving), overstimulation (2x)

Since you've gotten into college you just couldn't keep your eyes off, of your history teacher...

His long silky brown hair, always in a low pony tail, silver glasses hanging low on his high bridge nose, eyes fixated on the book he was reading out loud, and his brown colored suit fitting him just perfectly.

How come it is always the older men you find attractive, that already have children and are probably married too... Your best friend shook your shoulders, disturbing you from ogling at your attractive teacher. ,,Miss Y/N, I would like for you to stay after class. It isn't the first time you weren't paying attention and being lost in your thoughts." Your professors voice was deeper than usual but it still had the soft touch to it. You were embarrassed to say the least, getting caught by him.

You knew you weren't the only student crushing on him, hell there were even more worse students than you. Coming to school with naughty clothes on, that could get them dress-coded fast but they don't care. What they just want is his attention. Skirts seeming way to short for their own comfort and the shirts unbuttoned way to deep that people could see the lingerie they are wearing.

You knew it was bad for you to be crushing on a teacher but no one could blame you. His attractiveness, his deep voice and well mannered behavior was the reason why you were having a crush on him. Dirty thoughts roam most of the time on your mind while thinking of him. Oh, how you whished that he would just bend you down on his desk fucking you so hard that you can't walk for days, or him pushing your head down till the base of his cock, making you choke around his cock and...

,,Fuck.." You sighed out, Mr. Zhongli handed you worksheets out that you need to finish before the class ends. You look at the tasks, completely dumbfounded from the questions. Out of nervousy you start to nibble on your pencil, hopefully your professor doesn't notice you struggling to answer the questions. As you look up from the sheet of paper, you were straight up met with the eyes of Zhongli. Your back straightened up immediately not wanting to seem bored. He let out a chuckle before looking down at his desk, his eyes leaving yours.

Time passed and you were looking out the window, completely giving up to even try and answer them. You were once again disturbed from your thoughts as the bell rang. You lean back at your chair, stretching yourself out as you watch everyone leave the room one by one. ,,Tell me everything after, okay!" Your friend shouted before waving you a goodbye as she left the classroom. Now it was only you and him. Every student already going home, while you're still stuck here.

You slowly stood up, walking towards Mr.Zhongli. You made sure, your hips were swaying while doing so. His eyes were fixated on you the whole time, mostly on your chest. You went to the first row and sit down on a chair. You were jealous of that person, they just can watch him from so near and they chose not to? If you and many other students were right in front of him seated, your eyes would never leave his face. Wouldn't even leave the way he wa-

,,Miss Y/N..." Zhongli sighed as he watches you. Your eyes widened, knowing you were once again lost in your thoughts but right in front of him. ,,I'm sorry professor!" You apologize, embarrassed from your behavior. You aren't a horny teen anymore but this man just made you feel things that you never felt anything before. He sighed out again, before starting to speak again. ,,I can't help but notice you watching me a lot in my class...and then not even noticing when I'm talking to you Miss Y/N. Is there something you want to tell me?" Fuck. He caught you.

You were sure that this is going to be way more awkward than it already is, if you don't answer him anytime soon. You nibble on your lips, nervous on how you should answer him. ,,I-I uhm didn't notice it myself and I'm very sorry for my behavior...You are just a very attractive professor and I can't help mys-" You cut yourself off, not believing what you just admitted right in front of him. Your eyes widened and now you just wish to be buried alive and never come back.

Zhongli's mouth formed into a slight smile. A chuckle leaving his mouth. ,,Well there's something I also need to admit Y/N. Not only have you been keeping your eyes on me but I also did. I still need to punish you for not listening and doing nothing in class though.." His words shocked you. Never have you thought of your professor to even slightly like you in a romantic way. Well this was your chance now wasn't it? He likes you too, he could fuck you like you always imagined but why do you feel bad now? What about his wife?? ,,Sir, I know that something like this is very wrong. I think you have a wife that awaits your arrival so I think I should leave right now..." You said, wanting to stand up but he spoke up. ,,You can just call me Zhongli. I am not married anymore, she died in a car crash some years ago." You are shocked from his words. He wasn't married? But there is a picture of him and his daughter on his desk.

What are you even doing? This is your only chance and you want to just go home and destroy the only one time opportunity? Well, not anymore. You stand up, Zhongli joining you. ,,I'm sorry for your loss Zhongli, it must've been very hard for you and your daughter." You say, nibbling on your lips again and looking down at the wooden floor. You hear his footsteps as he walks towards you. Zhongli's fingers lift your chin up, now your lips were almost touching from how close you guys stood. ,,If you don't want this then we can stop..." He says before connecting your lips together. The kiss is rough and passionate, lips moving against each other as your hands goes up to his chest, holding against his white blouse. ,,Fuck..." A moan leaves your mouth before you break the kiss. ,,This will be our little secret alright?" Zhongli whispers into your ear and a shudder leaves your spine. He walks towards the door, closing it so nobody can disturb you.

,,Lay stomach down on the desk and pull your pants down with your panties sweetheart~" Zhongli hums as he watches you obey him completely. Your bare ass with your private part is fully exposed just for his eyes only. His hands rests on the fat of your ass. Your breath hitches and a slight moan leaves your mouth as you felt a strike. He was spanking you...'That's all I ever wanted, thank you' your hands grip the corner of the desk, trying not to moan from the sensation. You could feel yourself dripping from the pain and pleasure mix.

,,Such a naughty slut, hm? Getting all wet from me spanking you as a punishment, aren't you ashamed?" Zhongli's voice was even deeper than usual. His fingers prodding down towards your hole, his middle finger slowly pushing inside you. ,,Oh..f..fuck~" you moan out and arch your back as he curls his long finger inside you. ,,You like that slut?" Zhongli nibbles on your ear and a shaky moan leaves your mouth. ,,Mhm, I do sir~" you admit, not feeling shy or embarrassed anymore, you rather felt more bold. His ring finger soon entered your quivering hole too, making your eyes roll back. It was to much for you, you can't help but cum around his fingers.

,,You've made such a mess love~ let me clean you up~" Zhongli got on his knees, spreading your thighs and then taking your sex in his mouth. A whiny moan slipped out of your mouth and your hands tangled his hair, pulling his head more near your private part. ,,Fuck, you taste so good~" Zhongli is needy. It's like he's hypnotized by it, wanting more and more of you. The grip on your thighs is hard, probably leaving a mark after he's done with you. ,,Fuck~ Zhongli, g..gonna cum again!" You warn him, but he fasten his pace up. Not soon after you came, a loud moan escaping your lips as you try your best to calm down from the intense orgasm.

,,Mr. Zhongli? What are you doing in there?" It was Mr. Ajax's voice...

[aethon-recs]

Hi! First I wanted to say: Thank you for all your hard work these these fic recommendations <3 There has been many I did not know of till you have shared them! So thank you so much!

Okay for the ask: Do you have any recommendations for creature fics for the tomarrymort boys? It can feature either or both of them being non-human. Thank you again for all your hard work, and I love seeing you on my dash!

Hi anon — thanks for your kind words. I’m really glad to hear there were a lot of fics rec'ed that you haven’t come across yet, that totally made my week!

In terms of creature fic recs, there’s quite a good number of them, so I will separate by category and will try to keep the descriptions short. Enjoy!

*

Tomarrymort Recs – Creature Fics 

🐍 Naga / Snake

A Rather Useless Inheritance by Blood_Stained_Fingers (T, 28k, complete)

Harry comes into his Parseltongue inheritance. It’s rather less useful than he expected.

Renanthera by @zarasu (E, 6k, complete)

To brew a potion that could give someone the ability to talk to snakes, Harry would first need to find a bit of Basilisk blood. He stumbles on a powerful Naga instead.

Venom by @katsitting (M, 9k, complete)

Naga Voldemort lures Harry into her trap and has her way with him.

Venomous by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 4k, complete)

Sirius Black should know better than to set a Naga loose in a room full of people. Harry is the only one who happens to survive the Naga’s murder spree.

Viceroy by @vestiges-of-light (E, 7k, complete)

Harry will marry Voldemort to end the war. Harry also takes a potion that turns him into a Naga every night. This is hardly a problem for Voldemort.

worship at your altar by anon (E, 3k, complete)

Harry finds himself drawn to an old altar in the woods dedicated to the ancient Naga god Voldemort.

🩸 Vampire 

Blood in the wine by @girl-with-goats (E, 31k, complete)

Tom Riddle achieves immortality by the means of vampirism. Enter young copper Harry Potter, fresh recruit from Scotland Yard, sent to investigate the mysterious disappearances of all the young men who uncannily look like him.

chiaroscuro by @cindle-writes (E, 7k, complete)

Immortal children are illegal. Harry makes one anyway.

effervescent by @duplicitywrites (M, 5k, WIP)

Sometimes a relationship is you (ie, Voldemort), the vampire brat you made (Tom), and his human blood bag boyfriend (Harry).

Family Dynamics by RenderedReversed (T, 1k, complete)

In which Harry is a dragon for hire, Voldemort is a vampire who is probably plotting world domination, Tom is a vampire hunter with a one-track mind, and they all live under the same roof.

found you sleeping in my coffin by @orangemoustache (M, 6k, complete)

Harry gets turned into a vampire. For better or worse, Tom is there to help.

Hinnom by rightonthelimit (E, 7k, complete)

Harry is a member of an ancient vampire Pureblood family. To be even seen with a Spawn is punished with death. But he can’t help falling in love with Tom.

Hypnotic Kind of Dance by @acciotomriddle (E, 2k, complete)

In a club where humans willingly offer themselves to vampires in exchange for the high that comes from a bite, Harry meets an incredibly charming vampire named Tom.

Matriphagy by @being-luminous  (M, 2k, complete)

For years now, Lord Voldemort has hunted Harry and his parents. First because of a prophecy, then… Then, for something else. 

Not a Single Bite by @vdoshu (M, 2k, complete)

They’ve been at the restaurant for an hour and a half, but Harry hasn’t eaten a single bite. Tom is beginning to think that maybe their date isn’t going so well.

Scent of Death by @dividawrites (E, 3k, complete)

Voldemort discovers a new, submissive side of himself when he feels Harry's teeth on his neck.

the little death by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (E, 2k, complete)

"You brought a vampire into my study?" Voldemort asks, more tired than offended. 

The Resurrectionist by @bluesundaycake (E, 12k, complete)

Tom (vampire) runs a nighttime coffee shop, and Harry (sleep-deprived human) is a regular customer and Tom thinks he is a vampire.

🧜‍♀️ Mermaid / Siren 

Call of the Deep by @hikarimeroperiddle (E, 17k, complete)

Harry is a captain of a pirate crew. A dangerous siren that lurks in the deep seems to have set its eyes on Harry himself.

liquid luck by @toast-ranger-to-a-stranger (E, 12k, complete)

Harry is a mermaid who happens upon sea monster Voldemort, who has nefarious plans for her.

Siren Song by The_Fictionist (NR, 11k, complete)

Tom is a siren. He offers Harry a deal. "I'll help you out, and you get ten years to live on the surface. Then you're mine."

Undertow by @katsitting (M, 10k, complete)

Harry is a pirate. Voldemort is a siren that lures him in. “Harry. Come to me.”

we may sink and settle on the waves by @greenbriars (M, 22k, complete)

A retelling of The Little Mermaid, wherein Harry is Prince Eric, and Tom vies with Ginny for Harry’s affection.

🐺 Werewolf

the first full moon (part 1) / midnight snack (part 2) by @greenbriars (E, 4k, complete)

It's Harry's first full moon since he started dating a vampire.

🌟 Veela

Love at First Sight by @dividawrites (E, 5k, complete)

Voldemort rises from the cauldron with two dicks and a newfound Veela inheritance. Harry is mesmerized.

*

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Helping Hand 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of divorce, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Jonathan Pine, 40s reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

A week in and you’re… efficient. Rather, self-sufficient. You can’t say you’re confident but you are starting to figure it out.

The till isn’t so confounding and the customers not so intimidating. It’s easy enough to ask how their day is, if they found everything, and get the rung through. You’ve learned quickly if only to keep Giselle from rolling her eyes at you.

That day, you’re closing. Less than an hour now and you walk the floor, checking for any errant customers to remind them of the coming deadline. There aren’t many, a tall college student wandering through the history section and a couple of older men chatting over a stack of Stephen King classics.

You head down the rear all and feel the buzz in your pocket. You ignore it. Any calls you’re getting, you’re in no hurry to answer. You sigh and pass an aisle, movement twitching at the edge but you don’t bother looking over.

As you get to the next row, you hear your name. You turn back as you see the man’s head just over the top of the shelf before he turns down the same aisle. He must be the speck you ignored.

“Oh, hi,” you smile, wiping away your worries; you’re at work. “Jonathan, right?”

“You remember,” he preens, “I was hoping you’d be around.”

“You… were?” You hesitate. Your phone buzzes. A short jitter signaling a voicemail.

“Ah, yes, I was hoping for some advice,” he puts his hand on the slender wall of the shelf, “I am gift hunting and I can’t seem to pin down an idea. I thought most people love a book but I fear choosing something utterly boring.”

“Oh, well, uh, who are we buying for?” You wonder.

“She’s about your age, I think. So I thought…”

He’s married. Of course, why wouldn’t he be. You don’t know why that disappoints you. It shouldn’t. He’s only friendly and you’re a poor divorcee. Another buzz in your pocket.

“Well, you could get her a nice bookmark and maybe a cookbook?” You had loved your cookbooks. You miss them dearly.

“Mmm, she doesn’t do much cooking. More the type to order in or eat out,” he pulls his hand back and crosses one arm over his chest, bending the other to tap his chin.

“Does she sew? Or do any crafts?” You prod, searching for options. “Or maybe she likes fashion?”

“She does spend a lot on clothes,” he chuckles.

“Well, if you’d rather a novel, you really can’t go wrong with a thriller. They tend to be fast-paced and easy to read.”

He nods thoughtfully and drops his arms, pushing back his jacket as he slides his hands into his pants, “do you like them?”

“Like… what?”

“Thrillers? Perhaps you have a specific suggestion?”

“Ah, well, John Grisham. He’s always good,” you turn, “I’ll show you where they are.”

“Thank you. Always helpful, darling.”

You’re happy he can’t see your face. That last word makes your chest twinge. He’s so nice. It makes you sad to think you would never have one of those. A nice man. Your pants buzz again.

“Why don’t you have a look,” you present the books with a wave, “and I’ll be back to answer any questions you have. I just need to finish my walk through.”

“Certainly,” he agrees, reaching to trace a fingertip down the spine of a book.

You smile and rush away. You’re just going to turn your phone on silent and deal with it later. As you peek at the screen, you see the same name, over and over. What could he want?

You scroll through the onslaught of Andy’s messages. It’s just like living with him. It never stops. His last text is all caps; CALL ME.

You reply, ‘working for fifteen more minutes. Can’t.’

“You didn’t get too far,” Jonathan startles you and you quickly slide your phone away, “what do you think of this one?”

He holds up a copy of The Whistler. You nod, “it’s not bad. Main character is a woman, so probably a good choice for them.”

“Wonderful, and you suggested a bookmark?”

“Yes, er, over here,” you beckon him onward and take him to the swiveling rack of bookmarks, “these ones are especially nice, I think.”

You point to the thick leather bookmarks with the tassel strings attached and a few charms at the end. He leans in and examines the different colours. He clucks, “I really can be indecisive. If I recall,” he unhooks the same style you suggested, “she was preferable to pink.”

“Great,” you declare, “perfect gift.”

“Hope so,” he agrees, “I’m sorry, am I keeping you? You’re eager to be rid of me.”

“No, not at all, I didn’t mean to hurry you,” you assure him, “I’m sorry. It’s been a very long day and–”

“And you’ve been on your feet. You must be tired,” he suggests, but not in a sarcastic way. “I forget it is so late.”

“Really, it’s okay, I didn’t mean to come off as sharp.”

“Relax,” he taps his knuckles on the book, “you’ve been a wonderful help. Really. I’ll be sure to put your name on the survey.”

“Uh, thanks,” you swallow, “have a good night.”

“You as well,” he raises his handful and nods before striding off.

You groan, cringing as your chest threatens to cave in on itself. Why are you so awkward? You’re so bad at this job. Like everything else.

There’s a scratchy noise. It catches your ear and you swear, it sounds just like your name. Shit! You pull out your phone, the timer is ticking. You must have pocket-dialed. You bring the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello!” Andy booms, “Christ. We have something important to talk about.”

“Right, I told you, I’m at work–”

“You called me. Don’t waste my time. My mother’s birthday–”

“Andy, we’re not married anymore.”

“I know that. She asked me to tell you she wants you at her party. She always liked you. For whatever reason.”

You don’t take the bait. You don’t have to please him anymore. He filed for divorce, he made that choice.

“I’ll check my schedule–”

“Who were you talking to?” He interrupts.

“A customer,” you keep your voice down, “speaking of, I need to get back–”

“You were real nice to him, weren’t you?”

“Good night, Andy.”

You hang up. You don’t know how he’s still paranoid when you’re not even together. Jackass.

[magoapple]

The Story of Tonight

Pairing: John Laurens x Reader

Word Count: 1,345

Genre: Historical au

Warnings: Not really a warning but this not historical accurate and is not about the actual historical person but the Laurens by Anthony Ramos

Summary: You've been friends with the Schuyler sisters for years and they invite you to the winter's ball. At the ball you meet eyes with John Laurens and you know you're helpless.

You always wore dresses in shades of lavender, making you a sight for all eyes. You were also born into a family of wealth as the only child. Your job was to marry rich and have children. However, you never found yourself interested in any of the men who crossed your path. Angelica told you that tonight would be different, as there was a ball for Washington and his troops.

In your normal life you weren't too acquainted with soldiers, so you gave in to her request and joined the Schuyler sisters at the ball. One big problem was you had no idea what to wear. Sure you had many gowns, but none seemed to pick your interest. That was until your fingers came across a lavender gown with white ruffles at the ends of the corset, sleeves that ended at the elbow and were adorned with the same pearly white ruffles. There were also pearls along the neckline and you knew this was the dress.

After your handmaidens helped you get dress and do your hair into a beautiful low bun with a pearl clip, you could hear the Schuyler carriage pull up to your home. Squealing, you made your way outside, curtsied at the men opening the door for you. As they did, you could see big smiles on Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy's faces. “Ladies I am truly thankful for the invitation.” Angelica smiled and shook her head while Eliza pulled you into the carriage. “Come on Y/N we don't want to be late!”

It did not take long till you all arrived at the ball and were quickly greeted by eligible, some not, men. You and Angelica were both tired of them men just trying to suck up to you two and not be true and honest. While chatting with the sisters you heard some noise and noticed Washington and his troop were now here. You paid respect and turned to curtsy when your eyes fell on a certain soldier.

He had freckles all over his face and luscious brown curly hair. It felt like your heart stopped beating and everyone was frozen. That was until Eliza tapped on your shoulder bringing you out of your trance. "Hm?"

"Y/N you were staring is everything alright?" You quickly blinked and turned to face her with a smile. "Yes, I'm fine just... Do you know who that man is." As you pointed Eliza shrugged but placed her hands on the small of your back. "No, but you should go talk to him he's cute." Before you could you answer she was already walking you towards the man.

You noticed the small group of men around him smile and back away so he could take a step forward. You felt like you couldn't speak and you needed a timer telling you when to breath in and out. All it took was one smile and a kiss on your hand from the man and you were done for. "John Laurens at your service ma'am." So that was his name, come to think of it you did hear about the Laurens and their wealth from your father but never did you think their son would be this breathtaking. "Are you going to introduce yourself m'lady?"

If you weren't embarrassed you were now as you look at his smirk ridden face. "Ah yes my apologies Y/N L/N it's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine, say would you care to take this over to a less crowded area?" You nodded and laced your arm through his as you walked to a more secluded place. You felt so helpless being near John. You had just met the man yes, but you could already feel the sparks flying. "I must say I have heard of the L/N family but they never mentioned the daughter was as beautiful as I am seeing now."

You knew he had to be a flirt and you also knew your game was not the best. "Well the feeling is mutual. I don't mean to burden you, but I'm not great at communication at least not right now." John had given you look of confusion and you sighed. "Please do not laugh. When I'm near you I feel like the world has stopped and it's just us in it, like my heart is beating so fast I can't feel it."

He took your hands into his and smiled the brightest smile you had ever seen. "Y/N when I look at you I feel this sense of longing I never had before, and I do not want to let it go. I have to be honest with you, I am a soldier fighting in the war where we do not know what will happen. If I'm to court you, and if your father accepts, will you take the possibility of not knowing?"

You understand every bit of his words and held his hands tighter. "I do accept, all I ever wished for was a man who had his life planned how he wanted and was never afraid to do the unimaginable. Only request is you write to me when you can?"

"I'm not the biggest writer but for you I promise to send you letters." A beautiful smile made it way to your face and you couldn't feel any happier than now.

During the week's at war John sent you four letters, and you re read them every day. In reading them it was almost as if you could hear his voice. You learned that Eliza hit it off with Alexander Hamilton at the ball and she was also receiving letters from him. The pair was also getting married the next day.

As the day came you were excited for two things. One, your dear friend Eliza had met the love of her life, and the other was you had believed you did too. John Laurens was there at the wedding, so were the others but you only cared for him.  You knew you weren't to walk with him as the maid or honor, Angelica, and the best man, John, had to walk together. However you gladly waited for him with the same smile on your face from the first night you met.

The wedding was beautiful and so was the reception, especially because you were able to get some time with John alone. "I missed you dearly, have the soldiers been good to you?" He chuckled and moved a stray hair from your face. "Yes, even they weren't I wouldn't stop fighting for what I believe in and neither should you."

You knew what John was talking about, it wasn't like a war but you knew you would have to fight for it. See you wanted to open a library for kids of the unfortunate, where they could learn to read and write. John mentioned in a letter after you told him about how your caring nature was something he loved about you. Love, it wasn't a word you two expressed before but once he wrote it, the word and feeling became a frequent.

"I'm still in the works of convincing my father, but all can be on the side for now because I want to relish my time with you before you leave again."

"I know my dear Y/N, sadly we can't stay long after the wedding, but my dear I promise to write more than I have and I will help win this war to come back to you if you'll have me." You nodded and held his hands. "I will always wanted you John Laurens always. I'll get this library started and when you come back we can get married, have children and show them how beautiful the world can be."

John caressed your cheek and looked into your eyes deeply. "I would love nothing more than a family with you Y/N." As he was leaning in you did as well giving him a kiss goodbye hoping he'd come home to you.

[redhead-writes]

Own my own mind

Summary: Suna has had enough of the abuse she has received from her father. The person that once has hit you will never change. So she puts a stop to it but just around the corner another blow comes to her. Can she keep her strength to fight for life she deserves? Come and follow her down this path.

Can also read it on AO3.

Suna had wanted a little break from everyone in Korhan villa so she went to her family's new home. It has been weeks since her talk with Kaya about leaving for London. She still was confused but Kaya’s treatment of her was disarming her. Still she couldn’t make up her mind. So many what if’s running through her head because of her previous experiences. Suna really needed to start healing her mind and she couldn’t do it here. 

Of course, even here the drama followed her. It seemed that once again her father was back to his old ways and the things she had built in her mind started to crumble. Once again she was laying on the floor with Kazim screaming over her body but this time there was no Kaya to protect her. How could she be so stupid? How could she allow her mind to play such tricks on her? She had to know better.

“You are such a disgrace to this family. Third failed marriage. Maybe I need to lock you in the basement till I find some idiot that can deal with you.” Kazim roared after hearing his oldest daughter's conversation with her mother and aunt. Once again she was someone she could dispose off like some kind of trash. His rage was followed by another slap that landed on Suna’s right cheek. It was like that slap really restarted her brain. No, she won’t allow him to walk over her. Her own rage that she had stored in herself was bubbling over the edges. She was Sönmez now, she was married to the man that stood up for her. Time to stand up for herself and show that she was worth the name she was wearing. Suna stood up, spitting blood on the floor.

“Oh really, father, I am a disgrace to this family. I am still married to Korhan’s grandson.” stated Suna, coming closer to her father, who for once in his life seemed scared of her. Good, she liked to see him scared of her. “You are the disgrace of this family for not being able to provide us with the life we deserve. You are the one who sold out his own daughters to rich men to grab cushy money and live a lavish life. So don’t you dare tell me I am a disgrace to this family because I am not part of it anymore and have never been.”

“Suna!”exclaimed her mother. 

Suna didn’t even turn to look at her, still looking at her father and said: “What, mother? Am I too harsh to him? Am I throwing back taunts that he so easily flicked at me? You are as guilty as him for not protecting me and Seyran from this. I had to protect her by taking on twice as much of his abuse. I wish you all well and happy life but don’t you dare to come close to me and my family ever again, or I will show you what kind of disgrace you raised.”

With all said and done she was out of doors of that house. Wow, that really felt freeing. Finally she left out everything that had been choking her since childhood. Now she had to find Kaya and talk with him. It really was time to take matters in her own hands. She was ready to trust him. Taxi was waiting for her at the door but she was ashamed to get in it, looking like a mess. Oh hell with it, she just needed to get to her husband and the storm was raging outside. It felt like the sky would fall down. She sat in the back of the taxi, telling the guy the address. 

Something was bothering her the closer they were getting to the house. Suna looked out of the window at the raging sea but noticed a weird pile under the tree. They were only five minutes away from the house.

“Please, stop here and wait a few minutes.” 

“Madam, it is not safe out there.” the taxi driver told Suna but she really had to see what that weird pile was. Maybe someone needed help in this horrible weather.

“Then would you, please, escort me. I will pay extra for it.” 

The driver walked to her side of the car, opening the door and holding an umbrella over both of them. They started to walk closer to the pile but the closer they got the more like a human body it looked. The lightning strike made everything around them go bright, and then she noticed a familiar mess of hair and silver chains. 

“KAYA!” she screamed and started to run to her husband's side. She fell to her knees and turned his body on the back. Suna felt something warm touch her hand. It was blood. Her husband's head was bleeding. Suna screamed again in despair like a banshee. 

“Madam?” the taxi driver asked tentatively. 

“Please, call an ambulance and police. Someone had attacked my husband. Please, do it quickly.”

The man nodded and walked a bit further away from the couple on the ground. Suna took off her scarf that was around her neck and wrapped Kaya’s head as carefully as she could, constantly muttering: “Don’t you dare to leave me, Kaya Sönmez, don’t you dare. You have so much to show me in this world. Ambulance will soon be here. You just have to hold on and listen to my voice.”

Suna could hear all the sirens going off, so she pressed a kiss to Kaya’s forehead, whispering: “You hear that, Kaya. They are coming for you.”

After that everything was a blur. Suna and Kaya were packed in an ambulance. Police promised to come and talk with them to the hospital. When they reached the hospital, she was separated from her husband because doctors wanted to look her over too. Suna had forgotten that she had cut a corner of the lip and bruised cheek. All her thoughts were with her husband. The hospital gave her some pajamas because her clothes were evidence now. Finally after a few hours she was in the hospital room with her husband and mother in law who seemed to have one of her clarity days. She wasn’t flinging insults at Suna and that was a start. 

“I know that you think I don’t deserve your son but I really love him. I hope that one day you can see clearly that I am not taking him away from you.”

“I know that, child. Simply my other side is more vicious but even she has some respect for you after today. You brought him to safety and protected him like a real wife should do. You are good for him and we will try to come to terms with it.”

“Do you know who did it to him? Is it because of revenge?”

“I have no idea, Suna, but the police will deal with it. Worry about your husband right now.” 

“I always worry about him.”

“And he worries about you. You are two sides of one coin. Both abused, neglected and used in the plot of other peoples games. We promise you and him that you are free of those obligations. Go live your life.”

“Not yet, Nükhet. This time is my time to show everyone what kind of disappointment I am.”

“Are you ready to burn all the bridges, child?”

“For myself and him, I will do everything. Those bridges were shaky and slowly burning to start off. Nobody touches my family and walks freely.”

Nükhet finally saw what her son had seen in this girl. Under all that abuse was lioness ready to protect what is hers. There seemed to be no more veil of fear like something had ripped it off. By the look of Suna’s face, she knew what had happened.

*****

Next morning was a rough one. Kaya was still unconscious but Suna could answer the police's questions. They showed her a video from security cameras showing some man following Kaya. That man looked quite familiar to her. Then the man turned his face to cameras to hide from Kaya who had felt that someone was following him. 

“Do you know this man, Mrs. Sönmez?” asked one of the police officers.

“Yes, I do. If you need, I can make him come here and confess everything.” stated Suna, looking at surprised police officers. Abidin really overstepped all the boundaries with this move. 

“Of course, the faster we can close this case the better. We could not but notice your injuries, do you want to open a case against this person?”

“If we are at it, sure. I will just text that person in the video.” 

Suna allowed them to take photos of all the bruises on her body and other injuries she had sustained under her fathers strict upbringing that has left scars that would never be erased. They took her statement about her father. She really hoped something would come out of it. Even if not, she stood up to him, exposing his dirty deeds. Suna’s phone vibrated on the table. 

“He is here.” 

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Sönmez. We will be close by.” the police officer reassured her while putting on a microphone on her. They really should not be worried about her but Abidin. There was no angrier being that hurt and disappointed woman. “Do everything to get it out of him?”

When Suna met Abidin in front of the hospital, she could see that Kaya had gotten him well. His jaw was purple with already formed bruising there and some bruising under an eye.

“Suna, what happened to your face? Did someone hit you?” asked worried Abidin, trying to touch her face. She slapped her hand away.

“Not like you don’t know who could do this to me. You have always just stood there and watched me being abused like my own mother. You couldn’t even help me once. You are a coward.”

“Don’t say that, Suna. I did so much for you.” 

“What exactly did you do for me?” asked Suna, leading him on the way to confess his crimes. “What should I be thankful for, Abidin?” 

“I rid your life from that so called husband of yours. I saw how sad he was making you. So I did help you. It was so easy to get rid of him. Possibly, he is already dead by now. You are free to do what you like.”

“Abidin, what did you do to Kaya?”

“Nothing that he didn’t deserve for hurting you. Just left him to die like the bastard he is.” 

Suna could not take it anymore. She slapped him as hard as she could and got her fingers twisted in Abidins hair, pulling as hard as possible to put him on the knees, sneering: “Don’t you dare to call my husband a bastard. You know, Abidin, by this you only helped my father. He will marry me off to another creep that you won’t be able to take on because you will be too scared.” 

A police officer was pulling her off Abidin but she was not letting go that easy. She kicked him in the side and his howl of pain was satisfying. 

“That is for hurting me and Kaya. I hope you like your jail cell.” she shouted after him while Abidin was getting taken away. 

“I knew we should have been worried about that man more than you.” said Nükhet who had seen everything go down from the sidelines. “Officer, you can let my daughter in law go. She won’t hurt anyone anymore. I think you have more pressing matters to attend to.”

The two women walked back to Kaya’s room in silence but before Suna could step over the threshold there was a hand on her shoulder, turning her so she could face her mother in law. 

“I am proud of you, Suna. You kept your promise so I am keeping mine. You are free from my own revenge. Go, live a happy life with my son.”

“Nükhet, Kaya wants you to come with us.”

“I know, child, but my time here is not done yet. I will join you soon enough. Oh, by the way, here are yours and Kaya’s clothes and bathroom stuff. The rest of the stuff I asked to be moved to a flat I rented for you two. There is no reason for you two to return to that snake pit.” 

“Thank you, Mother!” said Suna, stepping into the hospital room. There was her husband wide awake and smiling at her not like someone wanted him dead just yesterday. Just seeing that smile made Suna finally allow herself to cry. Kaya just opened his arms, ready as always to support his wife and allow her to hide in his arms. That is all Suna needed right now. Her husband's warm hug and understanding that they are allowed to be happy. 

“I love you!” spoke Suna, looking in the eyes of her husband. He deserved to know that he had reached this goal of his. He had fully disarmed her and showed her that life she wants is possible with the right person. 

“I love you, too, my water nymph!” he answered her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

[whiteshipnightjar]

The Air Again

by Joanna Newsom

June of ‘78 who are you, so arrayed on the banks of Lake Adair. Pale lacuna agape and like the moon in the lake you are not there, my poor canary.

At uncertain behest Maggie blown to the west in a shimmering dust of gold with her pale yellow hair they would call her ‘canary’. And I loved my Maggie so, and that is all you need to know.

But women here ain’t ever glad, not even Emma Nevada, coming back to share her wedding cake. Women here ain’t ever free (and Emma never left) we never leave, we never last we never ask we never stake a claim or complain or take.

Not till I made a play for a parcel that lay on the Amador county line. Had a notion that I’d find employ by-and-by at the Lonesome Willow Mine but they don’t enlist my kind. In the meantime, set to prospecting where I was able and laying my Maggie a table. And when it was warm we would pan, when it stormed play Fan-Tan, and when it was cold they’d come sniffin’ with gold in their hands. 

On and on and again on and on and again, you do what you can.

Take an eighth of an ounce in allowance for the dance, only a dance, if you’re alone and abandoned and cast aside. You know, the pastor tried in vain to ask her hand, even him, everybody did.

And I had a plan but I had to sign away my mine and the deed left us free to scrape and bleed and go to seed and never marry not canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary.

In the spring of that year when the tinker was here, gals would hire him to mend their tin. I heard ‘em swarm from afar like a storm in a jar, like a choir of cherubim, singing *him, hymn, hymns.

Whispering, ‘Maggie had gone must’ve skipped with someone’, sounded wrong though it did seem fair.

April turned into May and I looked every day for you, Maggie, ‘til I heard they found a whore with the golden hair on the shores of Lake Adair. On the sluice she was spread loose and languid and dead from the kindness that she had shown. Still she told me her tale lifting veil after veil to expose a grin a-honed, my yellow rose in the lode a-blown.

And though I long to believe as I muddied my sleeve, and I studied the wiccan hap, and I want to revive, she was never alive. But by the grace and the whim, and the wheel, and again, and the wickedness of men.

But what to do then? I hauled myself up from the shore and I called at the door of the foreman. I told him and he laughed.

So, alas, there was savagery there. Left a hole in his heart you could roll a cabbage in ‘A cabbage?!‘ “Oh, no no, just a little one, Maggie, just a little one.”

On and on and again ‘til they saw what I am and I am never done, I am never done.

Went inside for the light, got a paper and a pen, where to begin? Do you sue for the rights? Root* for the strike? Through the alluvium to where it heeds *for I’m putting my own ruin ‘til the end to lure o’er the deed. A noose on a live oak tree bent toward the saloon tent and meant for me and Maggie.

And though it wasn’t him, it could’ve been him, or anyone who had done what I know so many men intended when they came to win. 

So arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant, arrogant. 

Held a cloth to my hands taking stock of my plans, well, there was something I had to make right. I took his old buggy whip and I lowered a skip in the glow of the sodium lights with a load of dynamite.

Maggie said, “I am here.” And with a touch on the ear, “After thirty years down in the mine, help me lead out the mules help me free the poor fools, let them see for the very first time they were blind, blind, blind.”

Then we rode through the rift and we beckoned to moon reflectin’ and she opened her neck like a stream. I saw the Father appear, heard her sob in my ear like a mob of cherubim, howling “him, him. It was him. It was him.”

So I threw a charge down the shaft in the cart with the pastor who spat and evangelized. He was the last and the worst — canary always goes first — to sing where the waters rise, hear her sing – go on now, Maggie –

On and on, on and on, on and on, and again and on and on on and on and again on and on and again.

Then a knock on the wall and a knock and we all fall in and down and in, and down and in and we pass away. But we pass only the baton man to man, and so they return. Pull the pumps, fill the sumps, for they’re takin’ something; they will never learn, they will never learn. And even if the churn drill and the stamp mill and the Pelton wheel, and the smoking furnace all a-burning, overturning, learning she will never breathe the air again air again air again air again air again air again air again air again air.

Like a screech of a flare, or like they’re reaching for air beneath the smothering eiderdown. Veins of gold, still outstretched in a silent arrest for miles and miles abound.

And if I’m underground let me join in that line, let me toil in that mine, let me find what is hiding there, let me dig where I durst, let me drink when I thirst and let me breathe the peril air.

And breathe for my canary, and breathe. Let me breathe. Let me breathe for my canary, breathe for my canary canary canary, breathe for my — canary always goes first — breathe for my canary canary canary canary, breathe for my — canary always goes first — breathe for my canary canary canary canary canary canary, breathe for my — canary always goes first — breathe for my canary canary canary canary canary canary canary canary.

[hmserebusadjacent]

Love him forever

Izzy Hands x Male Reader (Established Friendship, Established Relationship, Both Aromantic Asexual)

Summary: All of the ways in which you promised to love Izzy Hands.

Word count: 390

Fic link:

When you first got together, you had promised Izzy Hands that you would love him forever. Forever in the sense of time immemorial, and forever in terms of the depths of your heart.

Izzy had been spurned by so many people in the past but he believed you implicitly. And from that day forward, you had more than kept your promise.

From buying him his favourite flowers because men deserved to be given them too, as often as he wanted, and they would always smell beautiful.

From voicing your concerns and worries early and not letting them fester so you could work through your problems and neither of you would ever go to bed angry.

From voicing your wish for marriage early on so you both knew where you stood, and Izzy was delighted that the one person in the world he could picture marrying did in fact want to marry him one day.

Remembering to spray Izzy's pillows with lavender spray every night to help him sleep, as well as applying his sleep balm to help keep away his aches and terrors.

You indulging Izzy in all of his interests, especially the ones you didn't share, listening with rapt attention and treating Izzy to books to help further his study.

Cooking his favourite meals on good days and bad days, ensuring the snack cupboard and fridge were always full of his safe foods.

Being a shoulder to cry on, always giving a willing ear to whatever Izzy needed to say, listening to Izzy when he needed comforting and using just the right words to soothe his aching heart.

All of that was amazing, but in your promise you also honoured Izzy’s inner child and inner teenager too.

You bought Lego sets for you and Izzy to complete on date nights, and you even learnt to play some of the songs that had got Izzy through his teenage years. You made little cupcakes for him with little icing birds on them, and you showed Izzy your childhood stuffed toy collection.

You accepted every facet of Izzy because you loved him. You helped him grow and to better himself because you loved him. You would stay by his side till the end because you loved him, forever and eternally.

There really wasn’t another love like yours. And that was truly amazing.

[vickyvicarious]

All the men who worked so hard to keep Lucy alive, and then finally had to put her vampire self down, grieving in different ways today.

The bundle of letters relating to the purchase of the house were with the typescript. Oh, if we had only had them earlier we might have saved poor Lucy! Stop; that way madness lies!

Seward's thoughts are mourning, miserable at the thought of how they could have saved her. How he especially had so many of the most relevant pieces of information, and never noticed. He scolds himself away from such ideas, knowing the toll they will take on his mental health (and how little use they will be). He tries not to speak them aloud.

After a little bit his sobs ceased, and he raised himself with an apology, though he made no disguise of his emotion. He told me that for days and nights past—weary days and sleepless nights—he had been unable to speak with any one, as a man must speak in his time of sorrow.

Arthur wears his grief openly. He cries freely, but confesses that he doesn't feel like he has been able to truly speak with anyone. This is despite him seeking physical comfort from the others previously, so apparently it's mostly the talking that he hasn't felt like he could do. That's blamed on gender here but I wonder if a part of it may be that he knows they were in love with Lucy too, and at least she loved him back, so it may feel inconsiderate/unfair to speak too much about his sorrow with them.

It seemed but poor comfort to so brave and unselfish a soul, and impulsively I bent over and kissed him. The tears rose in his eyes, and there was a momentary choking in his throat; he said quite calmly:—

"Little girl, you will never regret that true-hearted kindness, so long as ever you live!"

Quincey tries to remove himself from the situation and expresses concern over Arthur first and foremost. This fits with how he's been so quiet and always at Arthur's side lately; he thinks of his grief as less important, I think. And yet when Mina extends comfort directly to him, he nearly loses his composure for a moment and has to wrestle it back, showing how much he's suffering too.

"Oh that we had known it before!" he said, "for then we might have reached him in time to save poor Lucy. However, 'the milk that is spilt cries not out afterwards,' as you say. We shall not think of that, but go on our way to the end." Then he fell into a silence that lasted till we entered my own gateway.

Van Helsing's thoughts go down a similar line to Seward's, though probably with a different sort of guilt. More failing in his duty, but at least he had really no way to know these particular details. He tries to move on and focus on the future, but he becomes subdued and lost in thought, probably of Lucy trusting him and asking him for help at the end.

.

Meanwhile, the Harkers:

We women have something of the mother in us that makes us rise above smaller matters when the mother-spirit is invoked;

Mina sets aside her own grief for Lucy to comfort others instead.

Whilst he was speaking, Jonathan had taken my hand. I feared, oh so much, that the appalling nature of our danger was overcoming him when I saw his hand stretch out; but it was life to me to feel its touch—so strong, so self-reliant, so resolute.

...

When the Professor had done speaking my husband looked in my eyes, and I in his; there was no need for speaking between us.

Jonathan didn't know Lucy very much, or at least is focused more on confronting his own trauma. He is driven by determination to kill Dracula and very focused on that for the most part, but does seek/share comfort and support with Mina. Though he seems relieved to leave her behind at the end, probably out of a fear of Dracula targeting her for being the woman he loves/is married to (going after Mina since he knows how much she means to Jonathan is absolutely the kind of revenge Dracula would take for him being alive/opposing him, and Jonathan knows that), before that he and Mina are firmly a team in every step.

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Hey can I request an Marc Spector x fem reader (angst that ends with fluff) that based on that scene from moon knight episode 4 when Layla fights the Heka priest and end up talking to harrow and he tells her that Marc killed her father except it’s the reader and harrow tells her that Marc is married hurting the reader cause she taught that her,Marc and Steven were building something. Hurt she confronts Marc finding them “Your Married!” She says walking up to him clearly pissed off “What?” Steven asked confused before she slaps him across the face making Marc front (you know something spicy like that for the drama 😏) Idk really know what else to add other then Marc never really loved Layla he only stayed cause he had a guilty conscience regarding being the reason her father was murdered till eventually he couldn’t live with the constant reminder of his past so he fled cause that what he does. This leads to the reader asking how many people Marc has killed “too many to be considered a good person” or something vague like that you know how he likes to answer stuff 😂 “god Marc I need to know I’m not on the wrong side here” reader says this leads to Marc explaining to her why she’s not on the wrong side. By the end he confesses his feeling for her. In this fic Layla never comes looking for Marc so reader takes her place during the series events. Hope your having a great day 💕💕💕💕💕

Thank you for request, i did my best hope you like! Also hope you have a great day too!

Did this based on memory lol

Being an avatar is not easy, you know this first hand. It might look easy to Steven or Marc, but it overwhelms you at times. You try hard to show mercy, to be steadfast in your beliefs, and be righteous in your actions. However, Harrow had successfully planted the seed of doubt within your mind. You try not to think about it, you try to think logically, yet the seed is now a sprout with roots digging into your heart.

You know Layla, or rather seen her before. She is… Beautiful. You have seen the way she looks at Marc, the way she speaks to him. There is a familiarity you tried to ignore until Harrow ripped off your rose colored glasses.

No! It's like what Marc said! Don't believe a thing from that madman's mouth.

Expect… When alone with Harrow his words once more ring true. Marc's scales are unbalanced, you do not believe that makes him evil but… He needs help. He said that himself but he put duty above that.

Khonshu is gone.

The only reason why Set is still with you is because they do not have Ra to seal him away once more.

It is a downward spiral of bad events, with Marc as the–

"You're married…"

Steven, poor Steven, he was so happy then looked equally hurt as you.

"You want me to trust you yet you fucking hide things from me!? Marc, haven't we been through enough!?"

The slap across was not something you would do, Set likes the chaos storming within your heart so he fed into it.

Marc, you can tell by the way he doesn't flinch or move, takes the hit. "We don't have time to talk about this, (Name)."

"When will we? Talking with you is like pulling teeth, you keep shutting me out or have Steven front." You are hurt, angry, confused. "You need to talk to me Marc."

"Do you want to talk and then Harrow's men come in or do we leave and talk privately without the weight of the world in the balance."

He's right… You know this is bad timing. But you are petty and it's too late.

"Fuck." Both saying in unison.

"Run!"

"I'm the one who's still an avatar; you run!"

Self sacrificing dumbass Marc!

*

Layla has every right to be upset by Marc/Steven's death, you try not to dwell on the anger directed towards you… She's the one still married to him after all. Knew him longer. Loved him. The sands shift, the sparks of electricity dance across your hand.

"How many people have you killed?" You asked during the aftermath of a fight. A mix of unconscious and dead people on the ground.

"Too many to be considered a good person." He gives vague answers when you ask too personal of a question.

"Am I a good person?" You mumble to yourself not thinking. The way Marc touches your face, your jackal mask dissolves into sand before disappearing. There you are exposed to him revealing your expressive concern.

"You are a very good person."

Though you are the avatar of Set, the God with a reputation of being 'evil', you try so hard to rise above it. To be better and above what Osiris and Iris claimed about you as an avatar of their enemy.

"Then so are you, Marc."

The sky roars with storms as you fight off the stolen and corrupted pets of Set, Ammit really overstepping herself to think she can send these lessers to kill you.

Cairo looks like a scene from a movie right now. Layla has gone after Harrow, you were trying to cause a storm to get the people to evocative only for that to draw Ammit's attention enough to get you being chased around.

You rain down bolts of lightning then the skies part, the morning turning into night, the full moon high in the sky.

Khonshu! Never thought you would be happy to see him… Wait, if he's out then…?

*

Set has nothing to say right now while you are happy Marc and Steven are free from servitude. The battle was epic, worthy of being recorded in the archives with the temple of the Gods. If they aren't petty and claim they knew along Harrow's plan.

Harrow.

You wish he died. Marc has enough blood on his hands, you can handle blood on yours. After the mental manipulation, the murders, and the betrayal; death would be a mercy.

Set is not pleased at all.

Layla stands by you, an awkward silence between the two of you. You have not spoken to her since Marc's second death (he must be a cat by now missing two lives). Being the last avatar, a powerful one, with a temporary one is uh… Odd. You feel alone without others around in the chambers… Though last time you were here by yourself, Osiris wanted Set sealed away with you being the catalyst.

What happens now? That is the question, a question you know the answer to but do not want to assume is the right one.

….

…

..

"Go to him."

You never moved so fast in your life until Layla spoke those words.