#seven days of sin event

[trashytoastboi]

Seven Days of Sin Event

~Angst Alphabet Shorts part 1~

> Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucifer

I: Injured: How do they handle themselves when they’re injured?

🎶 He’s more likely to hide the fact that he’s injured. He doesn’t want you all to worry or fuss over him. At most he might trust someone to help him out if he’s not able to hide it completely. He trusts you enough to tell you when he’s injured. Only because you’ll notice and worry if he keeps it from you as he has in the past. Lucifer always believes he has to handle things himself and hide anything he believes to be weakness, including his injuries. 

M: Mistakes: How much do they want to fix the mistakes of their past?

🎶 Lucifer once upon a time tried to go back. That's all he wanted, all he thought about. Going back and fixing everything before it was even done. Why did things turn out the way that they did? He never could bring himself to understand. But now… After finding out the result of their choice, he’s content. Now that they had come to terms with their grief and adjusted to life, then things have happened and they created a new home and memories. Now he doesn’t dwell on the wish to go back as much. 

V: Vent: How do they get rid of feelings they find unnecessary? 

🎶 He buries his feelings, pushes them aside or finds an outlet like working. Lucifer never entrusted anyone with his worries or he felt that it would be an unnecessary burden for people so he bottles it up. Until it explodes into the messiest breakdown that you’d never see, because he holds it together until he’s alone and can just let everything consume him violently. Snot, tears, spit, everything. It’s a mess, he’s a mess. He’d never allow anyone to see him in such a way. 

Q: Qualify: What parts of themselves do they consider dangerous? 

🎶 His determination to protect his family. There’s no depths that he would not stoop to if it’s for their sake. Lucifer may be prideful but he’s willing to cast it aside for the sake of his brothers and let no one stand against him. He’s scared of what he’s capable of doing for them. 

Mammon

A: Accident: Would they blame themselves if you died in an accident?

💰 He would blame himself, saying he should have stopped you. Or at least been there to prevent the situation from happening. He’d question himself, he’d punish himself. Why wasn’t he at your side? What was so important that he left you alone and allowed this to happen. If you were there you’d tell him not to blame himself. It was an accident, something no one foresaw. No one could have predicted it, or stopped it and Mammon tearing himself apart while believing otherwise is a painful sight for everyone to see. 

R: Rock: What weighs them down?

💰 Sometimes he thinks back to the days in the celestial realm. He’s moved on, as best as he can and he’s living his life now. Albeit as a demon, a far cry from the divine being he once was. Sometimes he’ll do something, amplified and compelled by his sin and he’ll catch himself wondering why he’s like this now and why he couldn’t return to the way he was before. 

Y: Yearning: Do old memories make them yearn for your touch 

💰 When you said a tearful farewell to everyone and left the Devildom to return to the human realm. Mammon was LOST. He didn’t know what to do without you there. Every day he got up he’s the first one running to your room to get you, only to knock on a door that no one was going to answer. He’d miss you, and all the affection you’d give him. The hugs when he was sad, holding his hands to stop him from pickpocketing a poor unsuspecting soul, or how you would praise him and touch his head. He misses all of that so much. Why’d you have to leave? 

Z: Zest: Add your own letters (A/N: Treating this like a wildcard and will just put a random headcanon) 

💰 Mammon does not know how to deal with grief. Even hypothetically, you’ve had the conversation with him, the question of what he’d do when you pass. It was inevitable, you’re human, your lifetime is not long enough to match his. You would grow old, eventually passing on and you’d have to part ways permanently. Mammon couldn’t bring himself to answer because he refused to think about it. He can’t imagine it. A world and you’re nowhere in it. 

Leviathan

I: Injured: How do they handle themselves when they’re injured?

🎮 He’s not a baby per se, but he’s not hiding it. Honestly he wants you to dote on him. He’d tell only you and ask you to keep it a secret. He’s good at handling the pain because he’d tell you it’s just a little scratch when in actuality it’s a lot more dire and deep than he led you to believe. He wants to feel that someone cares and so he’d tell you, the person who Levi knows would treat him tenderly and kindly while he’s healing. 

M: Mistakes: How much do they want to fix the mistakes of their past?

🎮 Levi had too many things he wanted to fix. Sometimes anxiety would make even the most mundane mistake one worthy of fixing. If he sits and considers all the things he wanted to fix then the anxiety would swallow him whole. The big, the small, the tragic and the things that brought about real changes in indescribable ways. He wants to go back, he wants that redo button but in the moments when he’s content with life he really thinks about it. Is that what he truly wanted? At the risk of losing what he had now? Sometimes the thought alone eased it. 

R: Rock: What weighs them down?

🎮 The way he is. He says, his self depreciation always leads into dark territory and he can name more flaws than things he likes about himself. He sees himself through the worst lens and believes himself to be useless amongst other names he’d gladly label himself with. He regrets the way he is, it’s a heavy thing. It takes a bit of encouragement, a lot of steady affirmation to convince him of otherwise and he craves validation to convince him. A single bad word can tear down any positive self esteem he builds up. 

Z: Zest: Add your own letters (A/N: Treating this like a wildcard and will just put a random headcanon)

🎮 Genuinely wants to get better at connecting with people. He believes most of his problems would be solved if he could just connect with people. He says the wrong thing and will retreat, punishing himself for it. It was an honest mistake but would they see it that way. Levi goes into things always assuming people hate him and want nothing to do with him. Never do open invitations with him, unless he’s invited specifically he will assume that you don’t want him there. 

Satan

O: Outrage: What makes them angry?

📚 A lot can set him off, he’s volatile. He doesn’t mean to be and he’s trying to work on it but it’s hard when he’s surrounded by people that drive him up the walls. Satan honestly hated the fact that he felt no respect from anyone. There was nothing but fear, and evasiveness. People had no respect for his personal space and it irked him, how they would touch him without his consent when all he wanted was to be left alone. Or when they would come into his room- his ONLY safe space and take away the very thing that made it safe. 

P: Pressure: What stresses them to the breaking point? 

📚 Satan has a lot of triggers and sadly unlike most who can calm down and get back to normality, his emotions stack up. They stack, and stack until they have no more outlet aside from OUT. They explode and so does he. Most of his outbursts aren’t caused by a simple momentary anger, it’s a piling effect of things that were simmering under the surface. The more people are afraid of him, the more he tries to control himself, fails to do so and it makes it worse. He grows fearful of himself and it becomes a vicious cycle. 

T: Time: What if they had a limited time to live?

📚 He wouldn’t tell anyone. He’d leave. He’d go somewhere where he could be alone and spend his time doing things he likes until it was time to say goodbye. He would do so, alone, peacefully and no one would know. That was his initial answer when you asked this question the first time. His relationship with his brothers changed, grew and became something precious. His relationship with you- evolved into something deeper. Had you asked him this question again, he would want to be supported by all of you, and loved until the moment he leaves with you all by his side. 

Y: Yearning: Do old memories make them yearn for your touch? 

📚 Satan tries not to dwell on it too much, he doesn’t want to deal with the extra emotions. The answer however is yes, he’d remember you and your absence grows only more pronounced. He’d think of when he could lay his head in your lap, reading his book while your fingers played with his hair. It was calming, he could fall asleep, feeling safe with you. That was no longer there and you, his safe space, are no longer there. He’d remember your touches as something calming, filled with love and safety. He feels lost without it. He misses it. 

Asmodeus

E: Emotion: What emotions do they tend to push away the most?

💅🏻 Insecurity - Asmodeus never wants to doubt himself. He ignores it, when he looks at himself and doubts his appearance, his existence. Feeling too far removed from what he once was, Asmo needed to embrace this new life. Find security or distraction so his thoughts didn’t discard who he’d become, so his past self couldn’t scorn him and look down on him. Asmo piled on compliment after compliment, found people to cater to his dire need to be praised and validated, to be praised as beautiful. He needed to hear it so much that he himself could believe it. 

G: Great pain: What is the most painful thing they’ve witnessed?

💅🏻 The fall of his brothers and himself. The moment all of those who were once his allies treated them as traitors, the fight was vicious. There was no choice though, this is what they chose. To save their family, and protect Lilith. Asmo would never forget, not really forget. He could get moments of peace when his mind was far too occupied, focused on the moment that he couldn’t think about it. The moment he saw despair and regret, the utter pain that encompassed them all and the forced shame they felt. 

K: Kill: Would they kill for revenge? 

💅🏻 10/10 He absolutely would. Should someone hurt you or his brothers, Asmodeus is vindictive enough to hunt them down and kill them. He wouldn’t grant them the mercy of a quick death either and would get really sadistic about it. He’d forget himself and gladly become the monster when exacting such a brutal revenge. To send a message, to put himself at ease, even when he knows revenge is empty and cold. It wouldn’t bring anyone back or change what had been done. 

R: Rock: What weighs them down?

💅🏻 Self destructive tendencies. Asmo is aware of them and he hides them well. Most people wouldn’t notice his unkind habits because he disguises them so well. Asmo knows what he’s doing, he wants to stop but he finds comfort in them. So he continues to do them every time he feels overwhelmed, he does it to feel a semblance of control. The result is met with him talking himself down, trying to stop doing it but he always falls into familiar habits. 

Beelzebub

S: Sorrow: Would they feel empty after your death?

🍔 He’d be so lost without you. Beel would fall back into the deep pain of grief, a feeling that you helped him heal from and now he’s got to experience it with you. It’s too much, he’d be feeling so much at once that wouldn’t be able to decide what feels worse than the other. The sadness? The disbelief? The anger? Cycling through reasons of things to blame for your passing. Himself? You? Beel prays, something he hadn’t done for a long time. He wants to wake up from the nightmare because this is not reality. Everyone knows it’s hard on Beel when he doesn’t even eat. 

U: Urge: How badly do they get the urge to see you after separating?

🍔 Beel misses you terribly. When you go back to the human world. He’s always messaging, calling, asking when you’re going to be back. When he can see you again and hold you. He’s missing you. He’s asking Lucifer every second day if he could go see you and Lucifer of course says no so Beel resorts to plotting with his brothers to secretly come and visit you. 

L: Loss: What was their greatest loss? 

🍔 Lilith. For all the brothers it was the hardest loss they had to experience, but in particular for Beel and Belphie who held a deep relationship with Lilith; it was the most devastating loss. Beel blames himself for so much, and still believes it was his fault that she died. Gradually, things get better. They do and the feelings that suffocated him became a little lighter, enough to let him breathe. He still shoulders the weight of her absence, and guilt. 

Q: Qualify: What parts of themselves do they consider dangerous?

🍔 His strength when it’s misused, or when he’s hangry. Beel has no control over himself during that time and can only see the destruction he caused after the fact. His insatiable hunger, when left to get out of control, is the most terrifying thing and people have been hurt as a result. His brothers struggle to control him or reign in his strength and can only watch when he's wreaking havoc. 

Belphegor

W: Wild card: A random angst headcanon 

⭐ Started sleeping a lot more not only due to his sin. Belphie used it as a way to escape from everything when he first fell into the Devildom, the loss of Lilith, the loss of their home and their wings, when he and his brothers became demons and were forced into an unfamiliar and hostile place. Sleeping was the only quiet he found, away from his thoughts, his feelings and his reality. Dreams were better. 

C: Crying: Are they much of a crier?

⭐ Secret crier. He hides it well and he won’t make a peep. He’d bury himself under his pillows and sob his eyes out silently just to get all the feelings out. He sobbed himself to sleep every night when they first got to the Devildom. He knew everyone was struggling and couldn’t talk about what he was thinking about or feeling so he opted to cry alone. It was easier that way so he believed. 

H: Humiliation: How could they be humiliated? 

⭐ The early days of settling into Devildom, humiliation became a part of daily life. With the outright hatred and hostility from the demons towards the brothers who had just fallen. They went out of their way to sabotage them, to chase them away and highlight their differences and how they were not welcome anywhere. That separation, distinction and mockery of what they used to be is what caused relentless humiliation everyday for Belphie. 

K: Kill: Would they kill for revenge 

⭐ I mean for the sake of a grudge he held against all humans he nearly killed you- had it not been for Barbatos. It’s very likely for him to kill for revenge. He’d have no qualms about it, he’s got a motive and a means and if that person hurt him, or those close to him. His first solution is homicide. He’s very quick from point A to B with violence.

Taglist: @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @roninfromtheops

[putschki1969]

『Hikaru LIVE TOUR -ROUND-』 Tokyo

Today was the final concert of 『Hikaru LIVE TOUR -ROUND-』 . Keiko and Yuriko were there to support her (as well as some others)! Wakana was there in spirit by sending some gorgeous flowers.

Tweet by Hikaru | Tweet by Tacos Naomi | Tweet 1 & Tweet 2 by GAIA crew | Instagram story by Keiko | Tweet by HaKA | Instagram post 1 & post 2 & post 3 & post 4 & post 5 & post 6 & post 7 & post 8 & post 9 & post 10 & post 11 & post 12 by Hikaru | Instagram post by ELISA

▼2024 11/30 (Sat) Soul Power, Toyama 17:30 / 18:00 12/07 (Sat) Music Bar Perch, Aichi 17:30 / 18:00 12/14 (Sat) LIVE HOUSE enn 2nd, Miyagi 17:30 / 18:00 12/21 (Sat) MUSE, Kyoto 17:00 / 17:30 ▼2025 02/11 (Tue) Club eX, Tokyo 17:00 / 18:00

Setlist for Tokyo 1 Lack 2 Breathe 3 Koganeiro no Yakusoku 4 Embrace 5 Survivor 6 Under The Rain 7 Ambient Border 8 Flow 9 Treasure 10 YES/NO 11 Awe 12 disclose 13 ESCAPE 14 End of line 15 Kiseki E1 With E2 Remain E3 紡 -TSUMUGU-

Setlist for Toyama/Aichi/Miyagi/Kyoto 1 With 2 Treasure 3 Koganeiro no Yakusoku 4 Spiranthes (Toyama) | Remain (Aichi) | Awe (Miyagi) | Flow (Kyoto) 5 Survivor 6 Embrace (Toyama) | Under the rain (Aichi, Miyagi, Kyoto) 7 Remain (Toyama) | Lack (Aichi, Miyagi, Kyoto) 8 Lack (Toyama) | disclose (Aichi, Miyagi) | YES/NO (Kyoto) 9 disclose (Toyama, Kyoto) | JUST DO IT (Aichi) | I am me (Miyagi) 10 Escape 11 End of line 12 Kiseki En 1 Breathe En 2 紡-TSUMUGU-

Upcoming Lives, Events & Releases

Hikaru made a lot of announcements today. It's great to see her have a bunch of projects lined up. Things are certainly going in the right direction. So happy for her!

Collaboration EP 「=［equal］」

Artists: Hikaru × YUKI SASAKI Tracklist: 4 songs Release date: March 19th, 2025 (Wed) ※Further details will be announced at a later date

『EP 「 = [equal] 」 Release Event』

To commemorate the release of this special collaboration single, Hikaru and Yuki will be holding two release events in Toyama and Tokyo (their hometowns)!

Tomorrow, on February 12, tickets will go on sale (first-come-first-served) on the platform "Live pocket". ※Non-reserved. Entry is in order of the ticket serial number.

↓↓Dates and ticket sales URLs↓↓ [Tokyo] 2025.3.19 (Wed) 18:00 / 19:00 SHIBUYA LOFT HEAVEN 🎫https://t.livepocket.jp/e/zviaj ▼Sales Period 2.12 (Wed) 20:00 ~ 3.18 (Tue) 23:59

[Toyama] 2025.3.29 (Sat) 18:00 / 19:00 TOYAMA LOGSESSION 🎫https://t.livepocket.jp/e/k-ptt ▼Sales Period 2.12 (Wed) 20:00 ~ 3.28 (Fri) 23:59

『Hikaru LIVE 2025 -Seven Deadly Sins-』 Concept Album + Live Show

Hikaru is in the midst of creating a concept album called "Seven Deadly Sins"! They are still in the very early stages of production. None of the songs have been finished yet. Seven different composers have been asked to write a song based on one of the seven deadly sins. All lyrics will be provided by Hikaru. For one day only, the concept album will be the main focus during two live performances (noon and evening) on May 24 at Haneda TIAT Sky HALL. On that day, the album will be on sale as part of the goods lineup. As of right now, there is no mention of a digital release.

Live Date: 5/24 @ TIAT SKY HALL (day and night performance)

『Hikaru LIVE TOUR -ROUND- 2nd』 + Birthday Live

Following the concept live show, Hikaru will go on tour again. The venues will be released at a later date but we can expect she will try her best to visit as many places in Japan as possible. The tour final in Tokyo will also serve as Hikaru's birthday live so it's bound to be quite special.

6/7(Sat) 6/14(Sat) 6/22(Sun) 6/28(Sat)

『Hikaru B-day LIVE 2025 -ROUND- 』 7/2(Wed) duo MUSIC EXCHANGE

Launch of Official Website

Hikaru has her own website now with all important information in one place. It's quite convenient so be sure to check it out!

Official homepage: https://hikaru0702-official.bitfan.id/

[non-un-topo]

Siggy's Old Guard Fic Favourites Masterlist!

Welcome back, fandom! I decided to finally make a big fic rec list and there are a lot. You know the drill: some have definitely been on lists before, though I tried to highlight some lesser-known ones.

This is also a compilation that reflects my specific interests. As such, the vast majority of these are canon-universe, or pre-canon historical. I will separate them by canon universe and AU/canon-divergent for convenience.

In no particular order:

Canon Universe

A Glacier Moving Through You (10k) - harryhotspur

An exploration of Joe and Nicky’s life in New York during the AIDS crisis. Painfully beautiful and viscerally realistic. Reminds me of what we take for granted. Those who know me know I never shut up about this fic.

Some favourite lines: Their eyes met in a way that said wordlessly, I see you. I am part of your family. Nicky saw David’s shoulders relax and the tears fell from his eyes. He sniffed and wiped them away. Other recs from this author: everything feels too large (the steadings and the fields) (22k), An Unexpected Disruption (2.6k).

Old Olives (21k) - aeili_kindara

A crusades-era fic that I read years ago and it just glued itself into my brain. The author has a slightly different take on Yusuf and Nicolo’s first meeting, in which they actually cross each other at a few different battles on the way to Jerusalem. It’s just incredibly well-written and detailed. Feels like reading a novel or watching a movie.

Some favourite lines: Yusuf’s grin hovers, then broadens. “See you around, then.” Nicolo gives him a bow. “I expect you will.” As he’s walking away, he hears the arrow rather than sees it. He tips his head sideways; it whirs over his shoulder and thunks into the heart of an olive tree. Nicolo doesn’t turn back to look. He twangs the quivering arrow with one finger as he walks by, and hears a voice laughing from the walls. All the way back to camp, he doesn’t stop smiling.

Conviction (21k) - fadagaski

Unfinished, but I urge people to read this one because it is so worth it. Set before the events of the movie, while Andy is travelling alone, the boys take on a job in the Philippines where they end up on either side of a conflict that runs deeper than they expect. This author is so good at tension and details, I was hooked.

Some favourite lines: Nicky pats his shoulder. “Poor Booker,” he says to Joe, “he’s been drinking so much crap since we left him that it has rotted his brain.” Booker shoves him flat, landing in a sprawl across Joe, all three of them laughing as Booker leans across the pair of them to try to steal the bottle from Joe, but Nicky gets there first. It’s been a very long time since Booker has felt a smile on his face. His cheeks ache with the unfamiliar arrangement of muscle.

for i have sinned (8.5k) - apocryphal

Can’t say much about this, to avoid spoilers. I recommend going in blind. It’s just a fantastic character study, with a huge gut punch.

Some favourite lines: Immortality breeds muscle memory by necessity, a brain overloaded with a thousand years of life, seizing on any opportunity it can find to run on autopilot. Joe still reaches for a waterskin he hasn’t carried in seven hundred years. He regularly finds his sword in his hand with no recollection of drawing it.  And he will never remember whether or not he finished strapping Andy’s kevlar, that day.

the axe forgets, the tree remembers (19k) - Flamingbluepanda

Post-movie. After being captured and tortured by some of Kozak’s new guys, Joe loses all of his memories and has to start over again in New York. Meanwhile, the team search for him everywhere.

Some favourite lines: Nicky let out an angry roar and punched a wall hard enough that one of his fingers broke and sent the proximal phalanx pushing through the skin. He didn’t even care or hesitate; he just shook his hand through the air and turned to walk away.  And that was when Andy shot him in the leg.  Nicky collapsed, then rolled smoothly onto his back and raised his gun, eyes wild. “Che cazzo, Andy?” “You wanna get angry and fight something, you fight me,” Andy said, voice low and cold. Nicky narrowed his eyes.

no one does it better (13.8k) - maddielle

While Nile decides to go back to school and take a sexualities elective, Nicky delves into one of her textbooks. He and Joe decide to try their own hand at porn and accidentally get really into it. It’s just a delightful read, and reminds me how old and in love these guys are.

Some favourite lines: “I know what sex is,” Nicky tells him confidently. “I’ve been having sex for nine hundred years. It isn’t this.” “It is for some people, love,” Joe comments, warmly amused, but Nicky shakes his head. “No, this is- There’s no passion. No connection. No one looks like this.” He catches a thumbnail of a slight woman strung up in ropes, all of the knots tied wrong. “It’s irresponsible.” Other recs from this author: come as you are (6k), older now (but not done hoping) (2.5k)

Cabinet of Nonperishable Curiosities (3k) - KushielsMercy

A meditation on Joe and Nicky as a 900-year-old unit. Made me really think about what it means to be together for so many centuries, and it stayed with me for long time after reading. This author always writes so vividly and beautifully too, and I especially love the playfulness between Joe and Nicky in this one.

Some favourite lines: They sit in silence, Nicky’s feet knocking gently back and forth against Joe’s shoulders. Joe always processes Nicky’s body as an extension of his own, but he’s uncomfortably aware of it this morning. Why is it he feels an absence of self when Nicky’s heels float away?  “How much of us,” Nicky finally murmurs, “is each other?” Other recs from this author: Daughter of Dust (1k)

if i’d have lived longer (i still would have waited) (5.4k)- knoepfchen

Pre-canon. An exploration of Joe and parenthood. I re-read this one often, since it’s become very special and personal to me. Truly a beautiful fic.

Some favourite lines: He would have expected Nicolò to be with them, seeing as his skills with a bow nearly rival Quynh’s by now, but he is not. Yusuf rounds the square and finally spots Nicolò crouching in the awning of a side street leading away from the square, surrounded by a throng of children. For a moment, it looks like Nicolò is telling them a story, and Yusuf can picture it, that earnest way of his—but then Nicolò stands to his full height again, one of the children hanging onto his back like a little bear. Yusuf is too far away to hear, but he sees Nicolò’s lips move as he makes what is undoubtedly a whooshing sound, spinning on the spot, arms outstretched. The children shriek in delight, the one on his back the loudest. Other recs from this author: all this time (15.9k), a thicket of shadows is a poor coat (32.8k)

world enough and time (9.5k) - raedear

Post-canon. A delightful fic in which Nicky takes a reluctant Andy to the dentist, and Joe and Nile talk after Joe tells her about a recurring nightmare Nicky has. It has all the emerging found family feels that we all love, as well as that ancient love between Andy and the boys.

Some favourite lines: ‘Nicky had a dream,’ Joe says, as though that explains why he’s the one out of sorts. Maybe it does. Maybe after nine hundred years, they dream the same dreams too. ‘He almost died on the crossing to Jerusalem, you know.’ She didn’t. ‘He dreams sometimes that he did, and because of that he walks alone through this life. It always leaves him shaken.’  It’s not Nicky sitting in front of her, pale at the edges and clutching his coffee like a lifeline. Other recs from this author: I can tell (we are gonna be friends) (1.9k), an astonishment of form (3.7k)

beholder (19k) - liadan14

A throughout-history compilation of Joe and the muse, with himself as the muse, and times he was inspired by others. There’s a story at the end of this fic that Joe wrote that is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever read, and I think about it so much. There’s also Joe being a total dumbass in love.

Some favourite lines: For a moment, Nicolò simply continued looking at him, the humor in his eyes softening to something kinder and gentler. Then, he said, “Yusuf, I love you.” “I need to take those bowls to Ahmed,” Yusuf said. Other recs from this author: constant stars (1.5k)

I live on kindness, faith and constant courage (37.7k) - Tam_Cranver

A medieval queer quartet fic set in France that is just incredibly well written. What else can I say? The details, the plot, and the dynamics between the immortals are all perfect. This author is incredible.

Some favourite lines: Yusuf barked out a surprised laugh. “Alas, I’m still not certain I’m up to the task of being Andromache’s husband,” he said in mock mournfulness. “Few men are,” she said, waggling her eyebrows at him. “Now come, help me see if this dress will work for me.” Other recs from this author: Stop, listen, feel, believe (17.2k), The Plate of the Eclipses (90.5k)

whatever here that’s left of me (12.7k) - paigian

After Booker’s departure, the team takes some time off, and Nicky develops an old recurring pain in his shoulder that gets increasingly worse. This fic is all about loss, love, betrayal, and the sheer weight of these things. Gorgeous and timeless.

Some favourite lines: What are these shoulders for? Holding up the weight of Booker’s loneliness; the backs of Joe’s knees; keeping a rifle steady for the kill. Catching a bullet next to the scapula meant for Andy as they escaped that awful building; as a place for Nile to lean against as every bone in her body stitched back together- Other recs from this author: you made a fool of death with your beauty (15.6k), the deaths of nicolo di genova, in ascending order of sexiness and descending order of actual dying (14.2k), the Beyond Measure and Reason series (61.9k)

As The World Falls Down (5.2k) - superblackmarket

One of the first fics I ever read in this fandom. What can I say about superblackmarket? Just fantastic and gorgeously written, every fic.

Some favourite lines: Then one day he woke up—he couldn’t have said what time it was, whether it was morning or evening—and Nicky was sitting at the foot of his bed, looking at him. “Hello, Booker,” he said. He wore a grey kameez over military fatigues and his eyes were like chips of jade. Probably a hallucination, Booker thought. “What’re you doing here?” he asked, slurring his words. “Thought you were up in, uh, whatchamacallit, the…” “How long have you been like this?” Nicky said. Other recs from this author: Tales of Burning Love (5.8k), Ere Babylon Was Dust (7.2k)……… all of them.

Gentle (2.7k) - AphroditesTummyRolls

A very sweet fic about Nicolo and his mama. Made me very misty-eyed. It’s always emotional to think that these war-seasoned immortals were once little children.

Some favourite lines: Her heart squeezed in her chest, and she smoothed his soft hair where it stuck up in a cowlicky tuft. She loved her baby, she loved him.  He was so big now, he weighed on her arms. He gripped at her with his little dumpling fists, and she prayed he’d never let her go. She never wanted to stop holding him.

Centuries and Centuries (102.4k) - marbletopempire

Possibly one of the first crusades-era getting together fics in this fandom, and a famous one but I’m still putting it here. This fic is incredibly written, and such an intimate look into Yusuf and Nicolo’s past. Part of the reason for this is that it’s written entirely in first-person, which I’m a sucker for.

Some favourite lines: Once, when I was a child, I sat on my father’s shoulders and watched as a man was hanged. The crowd was thick, full of laughter, and had the air of a festival. I watched as the man was led up to the gallows, his hands drawn behind his back. His face was one of terror – even at my young age I could tell – and as he looked out over the crowd his wild eyes locked onto mine. People jeered and threw rotten food at him but he did not flinch. He smiled at me briefly before they obscured his head with a sack. Sodomite, I heard whispered around me.

though i’m dying to (fall in love with you) (19.6k) - yusufsmoon

Nicky finds himself hopping between alternate dimensions, finding Joe in each one. This is a comfort classic to me, it just fills me with so much joy.

Some favourite lines: He takes in the way Joe’s eyes are regarding him; there’s an assuredness in those brown depths, that he realizes reminds him of Andy, of Quynh, even, before they lost her. Like they could take on the weight of the world with a smile.

life is very long (7k) - kaydeefalls

The OG description does it perfectly: Nicky and his immortal family, over the centuries. This fic is a forever favourite, full of love and wonder for the world and the immortal family.

Some favourite lines: "Come, habibi," Yusuf murmurs, so close that his beard tickles along Nicolo's neck. "Will you not join me?" Nicolo closes his eyes, trying to keep his breathing even. "I cannot dance." Yusuf presses a kiss into the soft skin just below his ear. "I promise you, this is a dance you know." Other recs from this author: Carthaginians (53k), catch you when the current lets you go (5.4k)

July 1982 (9k) - WarriorOmen

I read this one every summer, I swear. It’s got Joe on a motorcycle, clubbing, and the immortal husbands just being absolutely smitten for each other.

Some favourite lines: 900 years old. He’s 900 years old and completely rooted to the ground from surging lust and excitement because, sitting in the parking lot of this store, is Joe. But it’s not just Joe, it’s some iteration of Joe that is currently straddling a massive black motorcycle, leaning over the handlebars like he owns the thing (which Nicky really hopes he does) and staring straight at Nicky with all the confidence of someone who has well and truly surprised his husband. Other recs from this author: My Blade, My Love (2k)

Rain Season (6k) - yu_gin

This fic takes place after the Chernobyl disaster, where Joe is in a period of depression. The way the reactor is described is so scary, I feel like it’s this ever-surveying, hulking, breathing beast. And the way the effect of radiation on the immortals is described… there’s one small scene that will forever be in my head.

Some favourite lines: That night he went to the reactor once again. He pushed himself closer than ever, determined to look the monster in the eyes. He could feel the heat increasing and the air burning his lungs. He knew what would come, he was familiar with the excruciating pain, but he couldn’t stop himself.

Fast Car (7.9k) - PastyPirate

Joe and Nicky go for a Thanksgiving road trip in the 90s. This fic has one of the best and goofiest representations of the immortal husbands’ relationships I’ve ever read, and the dialogue is so realistic. A major comfort read that I think about all the time.

Some favourite lines: “This is more of a general present,” He held up the cassette, tilting it where Nicky could read the label. Nicky tilted his head to read, and burst into laughter, “you asshole.” Joe looked at the label, Sad Songs for Nicky written in clear script for this very moment, “What? No good? I have another.” He held up the second cassette Happy Songs for Joe scribbled on it.

James Copley’s No Good Very Bad Year (12.7k) - Dr_Amuly

Absolutely delightful fic about the cleanup after Merrick’s, where Joe and Nicky “help” Copley (they fuck with him) go through the old pictures, while Copley hasn’t figured out that they’re a couple.

Some favourite lines: “Joe,” Nicky gentled. “We are nearly a thousand years old.” “I’m thirty-three!” Joe protested. “Anno di Cristi…” Nicky sing-songed under his breath. Joe kicked him—lovingly, of course—under the table.

the profession of my fingers (24.9k) - mellyflori

A classic. This is one of those fics that reminds me why I love these characters so so much. Basically a compilation throughout history of Nicky worshipping Joe’s curls. It’s got some of the tenderest moments. Their love feels really tangible and believable here.

Some favourite lines: "Surely, Lord, you’ve sent this man to test me.” “Did you want me to test you? Because I can—“ “Thank you, Lord, for the gift of this great compassionate spirit in my life.” Other recs from this author: there’s a trick with a knife (i’m learning to do) (65.2k)

Impelled by the Persuasion of Love (2.4k) - Lolo (TheLittleLo)

The queer quartet + courtly love! I read this when the zine came out years ago, then re-read it while I was taking a class in Arthurian literature, and it really has it all. Short but sweet, and I adore how the author writes the dynamic between the four immortals. Feels like a lovely bedtime story.

Some favourite lines: “Can I stay with you tonight?” “I think we can risk one night. You are meant to be the brother of my lady wife, after all.” Nico made a face of disgust. “Do not remind me,” Nico said, and he titled his head up to press his lips to Joseph’s.

the dark matter of you (12.9k) - Syysmyrsky (Arktikko)

Gorgeously written meditation on Yusuf and Nicolo’s early love through Yusuf’s account of an old relationship, and through Nicolo’s eyes. Very vivid and realistic, goofy at times, gets me right in the gut and feels so believable as a conversation between these two. Reminds me why I love their love.

Some favourite lines: It feels so natural, he thinks as he looks at Yusuf, to be with this man, to love him. The more he does, the more it feels like perhaps loving Yusuf is what he has always been meant to do. It certainly had felt like destiny when Yusuf had kissed him that rainy afternoon, urgent and just a little desperate. Hurried, until Nicolò, hands still wet from the rain but so careful, had stroked his palm down Yusuf’s broad back slowly, sweetly, and something in both of them slowed down and settled. Calm like coming home. Other recs from this author: The Devil’s Eye (6.2k)

Per usual it didn’t go as planned (but as it should) (19.8k)- linascribbles

Post-movie. The team spends some time in Peru. I come back to this fic every time I need comfort and some Nile love, it’s just so soft and good.

Some favourite lines: "Nile!" Andy exclaims suddenly, eyes going wide and bright on the mirror. "I'm gonna get wrinkles!" She sounds thrilled about it.  "You'll finally get to contest Joe on that," Nile replies, voice full of laughter. Andy pumps her fist.

The Lamp of Nicholas (20.5k) - ViridianPanther

A crusades-era fic in which Yusuf and Nicolo part ways, and Yusuf finds himself captured and imprisoned in a tower. Such a fun one that feels like a bedtime story or legend. It also got me obsessed with the word “defenestrate.”

Some favourite lines: “—and I saw why the Almighty chose to bless us both with a reprieve from death. Because I have been the receiver of his kindness. And now I will never be able to thank him for that, I will never be able to tell him how much I loved him. Because I let him go back to the place that turned him into a monster, and now—” Other recs from this author: The Death of You (22.7k)

Ten Ounces (3.5k) - suchA_Consequentialist

Post-canon, the aftermath of Joe being kidnapped and tortured. A beautiful fic with a gut-punch. This author is a master of bildup and the gut-punch, I am so so obsessed with it. Can’t say much without spoiling, I think it’s just best to go into this one blind.

Some favourite lines: Against Joe’s chest, Nicky’s hand stays still and flat. He looks stricken and desperate as his hand presses harder against the skin. There is no scar. There can't be. So, Nicky can't know. Other recs from this author: A River Arrives in the House of the Dead Men (The Prodigious Flowering Rage) (4.8k)

To kindle a spark in the darkness (7k) - Nary

Pre-canon outsider POV in the 15th century. This fic has everything I love, following a man named Hassan who encounters the immortals at different times in his life. Follows the thesis of the movie perfectly, and it’s gorgeously written. Feels like watching a movie.

Some favourite lines: Then Yusuf gave a sharp gasp, sitting up. Hassan scrambled back in alarm. Yusuf felt his chest with one hand, fumbling for his weapon with the other. "Ugh, one of them has an arquebus," he said, almost to himself, and then, noticing Hassan a few feet away, he gave a rueful smile. "I didn't mean for you to see that, little one."

Making the Marauders (62.2k) - nizzuto

A medieval Yusuf and Nicolo adventure, a Robin Hood story. They work together covertly to try and convince a greedy duke to have some compassion for his people, and this goes as well as one would expect. This author is a master of epics and tension, so it’s hard to choose a favourite, but this one always has me on the edge of my seat.

Some favourite lines (my favourite line is a spoiler, so): “I,” Nicolò starts and stops and starts again, “He believes I am a harbinger of the Lord. I told him that I was to spread a message of mercy and altruism.” “My Nicolò,” Yusuf says breathlessly. “An angel!” Other recs from this author: He, Dreamless (126.7k), A Man Called Mercy (17k)

The Extraordinarily Complex Task of Condensing a 920-Year-Old Romance into a 145-Word Speech (While Being Abducted) (47.3k) - Liketheriver

An anthology following Yusuf and Nicolo through the centuries, with each scene relating to one line in Joe’s van speech. This fic has everything, everything. It’s such a tasty treat when you’re looking for action, angst, hurt and comfort, romance, and historical accuracy.

Some favourite lines: “Oh, Yusuf,”  Nicolo’s breath hitched, and Yusuf could feel warm tears against his neck.  “It’s gone. All of it is gone.” Yusuf cupped the back of Nicolo’s head, held him tighter.  “I know, my soul, but at least you are not.”

Guiding You Through (6.2k) - mekana47

Post-canon, Booker & Nicky centric. The team is on an undercover mission when Nicky is given a truth serum, and Booker watches over a screen. I’m a sucker for the Nicky & Booker brotherly dynamic, and this fic just hits it right on the head.

Some favourite lines: “He signaled,” Booker traces over the screen. Nicky’s head has dropped to one side, but his hand closest to the camera has two fingers pressed flat against his leg and the other three tucked into a fist. “You have a signal for truth serums,” Nile says flatly. Other recs from this author: Code Pink (700 words), Hold Tight (3.3k)

Illustrious Pagans (6k) - saintsideways

Exactly as it says: Five times Joe and Nicky did drugs. There’s something about this fic that I just want to eat. It’s silly and delightful at times, sexy and mind-bendy at others.

Some favourite lines: “Someone’s house, I guess,” Yusuf said, drowsily. “Is this your hallucination or mine?” “Does it matter?” IT DOES NOT said the eyes, watching them benignly.

AU

Take What You Can (15.7k) - theoxfordcommando

An Old Guard x Pirates of the Caribbean au, executed flawlessly. What more could I ever want? Incomplete, but still very worth the read. The author fit the characters into their roles so perfectly, I just adore it.

Some favourite lines: “I dreamed about you last night.” The words came out much softer than Yusuf had meant them to. Like a whispered confession in the dark hours of night. Nicolò’s eyes widened just a fraction and there, that look he knew. Nicolò was embarrassed. “About the day we met,” Yusuf quickly clarified, less of a whisper this time. “Do you remember it?” Other recs from this author: Lingering Aches (1.6k), The Ballad of Robin Hood and Nicolo (7k)

right where you left me (115.4k) - dreamtiwasanarchitect, liadan14

Canon-divergent au. I can’t say much about this one without spoilers, just… God. Please read this one. I’ve never been able to get it out of my head.

Some favourite lines: Sometimes, he wonders what signal got crossed there, how it is that Nicky’s body takes pain and humiliation and turns them into bright, incandescent pleasure so well.

The Town By The Empty Lake (89.4k) - OldMagpie (Magpie Morality)

This fic deserves so much more everything — kudos, comments, bookmarks. It’s a gorgeous Lovecraftian mystery with an ensemble cast, incredible art and a playlist to match. Just fully immersive. I could picture it all so clearly in my mind.

Some favourite lines: She rears back, heart thumping wildly, unsure what had prompted such a visceral reaction. She only knows she does not want to look at the painting again. Poor Yusuf al-Kaysani, maybe he is going mad - to have painted this and then placed it in his room to watch while he sleeps…

i love the way you see the world (series) (40k) - flightofwonder

A canon-divergent au series in which Joe is deaf. I just want to rec the whole series, because it’s hard to pick one out of it. A true classic.

Some favourite lines: He had never needed to hear the prayers, only to feel them. He trusted in Allah to guide him with the rest.

.....and so many more.

[breach-doll]

Of course, you don't remember the surgery; you just remember waking up in a hospital, tearstained cheeks pinched and crimped around the apparatus strapped to your face. That and the glow coming from behind the scarred and stitched skin of your chest, right where your heart should be.

They sent you home that same day; apparently there had been some sort of radium processing incident, but they swore it wasn't risky since it hadn't penetrated far into the skin. Purely cosmetic, really.

And you believed it for a while, too. A good compression bra stifled the hot flashes you would feel from time to time in your chest. Sometimes you looked in the mirror and thought your eyes were glowing, but you thought it was just PTSD from the intrusive thoughts of drowning in a shining abyss of lights. Your neighbor insisted you see a doctor about your sleepwalking, but you just set up a little motion alarm to wake yourself up instead.

The real problems began when you came to while strangling a strange man in a room you didn't recognize. Your hands jerked reflexively in surprise, and you felt a hot surge of pleasure spread out from your chest at the gurgle of pain he released. Pure, raw, bliss, but also a feeling of approval from some nameless source. To your horror, you started to squeeze harder and harder as the sense of approval surged and your vision swam from the shudders of pleasure jolting through your body. You weren't present enough to really think about a dull, sudden crunch.

When you looked down, the man's body was falling apart into soft golden motes that poured out of the apertures of the clothes. Horrified, you tried to sweep up the motes - they fell apart as you touched them - and then dug through your bag for your phone to call 911. The seven missed calls from your friend and the barrage of texts over the past hour, "OMG R U OKK GIRL" "CALL ME" "some of the dolls upstairs saw this guy spike ur drink and then drag u out" "jesus r u ok im so sorru the one time i get u to come out this shit happens fuckkkkk" "ok i called 911 sorry im sorry im" sent your head reeling again. You picked up the next time 911 called, and the ambulance workers were very kind as they took you to the hospital once you'd sent the cops running after the man's supposed flight path.

Events like this kept happening, more and more frequently. You would wake up in random places, mostly apartments, deserted buildings, suburban homes, with wounds you didn't remember getting and men standing over you, and murder the men you found there. Every time the overwhelming feelings of approval and pleasure, like a hand on the base of your skull, would drive you to use more and more vicious means. Something drove you to start gouging into opponents with knives or shovels, tearing out chunks of their muscle. You stopped needing to sleep, then to eat. You started crying hysterically at every mention of violence or injury, and insisted you were fine when people asked about the glazed look in your eyes.

You got fired from work, of course, and then lost your apartment, but it was fine. Nobody bothered people who looked as crazy as you, and if they did, the golden motes the sinners left behind kept you satiated and rested and ready to keep going.

You stopped remembering the date. Time just blurred into itself as your life dissolved to a simple cycle of kill, sleep, move, kill. One day you were ambushed by a group of men, but strangely, none of them had the distinctive taste of sin you had come to recognize from their motes. The survivors took you to a pit and lowered you in, down onto the hard stone floor, and left you there for days on end. On other days, they just let you wander the plain white halls above.

And one day, you heard a voice say, "You are ready, oh Holy One. Take and eat." They lowered a man into the pit with you, and he leered at your naked, dirt encrusted form. Until you breathed out a single, quiet word and a burst of light appeared in the center of his forehead. Your halo flickered into life above your head as you rushed to his prone, twitching body and sank your teeth into his throat.

[tavyliasin]

BG3 2025 Creative Challenge!

Baldur's Gate 3 Fandom Artists, Writers, and Creatives!

I would like to invite you to a year of prompts to create whatever you would like! SFW, NSFW, whatever medium you would like to create in, the choice is yours! The idea is that we have on prompt per month so it should be easier to follow along without becoming overloaded. You don't have to create something specifically for the event either - if you have a WIP or other work you're publishing that month that fits the description you are more than welcome to add that in! I'll make a new post at the start of each month with the details of that month's challenge prompt, but this will be our masterpost to start the year off with a bang. Details below the cut!

The Year Of Prompts

January - New Year New You Pick a new character, trope, or pairing. Something you haven’t tried before. Make it a challenge to do something new and different! February - Romance Novels Go for something romantic, or if romance isn’t your cup of tea try something around the Necromancy of Thay instead! March - Marching Forwards March to your goal to finish a WIP or LongFic, or March into a new world by making something in an AU! April - Fools Rush In Make something humorous, something fun, whether it’s based on a meme or a joke pairing or just something with a bit more whimsy and some laughs~ May - Maybe? What If? Reverse a trope or reimagine a part of the canon - what if things were different? 

June - June Bugs Create something centred around a game glitch or exploit, past or present! July - Why Would July To Me? A piece around lies, deceptions, and other ways the truth can be twisted or obscured. August - When In Rome… A piece themed around the customs of specific races, backgrounds, regions, or Guilds. Are they followed or broken? That’s up to you! September - Seven Deadly Sins Pick one, or more, of the classic “seven deadly sins” and see how that can relate to one or more characters or tropes. October - Days of the Dead Create something around a character death, a memorial, a lingering ghost, or find a way a character might cheat their death or be brought back from it~ 

November - Gnomevember Either create something centred on Gnome characters from the game, or the other story points around them (Steel Watch, Iron Throne, Runepowder, etc) December - Season of Giving Create a surprise gift for someone in fandom, or write a piece around a gift being given by or to a character or characters!

Rules

The rules are very simple!

Create your piece in 2025, preferably within the prompt month but if you post a little early or late that's fine too!

All pieces must be your creations or a collaboration - No AI or chatbot content

You are free to work in whatever medium you like for each and every prompt!

Set your own goal - you can do a short 100-500 word minific, some simple sketches, or write a whole 10k word one shot epic, or draw a full page comic. What matters is that it's a goal YOU want to achieve!

There will be options to submit prompts and fill prompts in the AO3 collections - this is entirely your choice! You can take a prompt if you like, work on something you had already started, or create something entirely new!

Have fun!

The Goal

The aim really is simple - to set some targets, and work on at least 12 things this year so at this time next year you can look back on your progress and celebrate your achievements. If you miss a month or turn in late, that's fine! Do what works for you!

AO3 Collections

For those of you that would like to, there will be a parent collection for the year event as a whole and some sub-collections for each month to allow us to keep everything nice and organised. It's completely optional if you would like to put your work on AO3 or not - you're more than welcome to just keep it on Tumblr or wherever you usually share your works!

This event is for you to use however you feel best, to inspire creativity, working towards manageable goals, and trying something different.

Social Media Tags

Use the tag #BG32025 if you would like to! I don't know if anyone else is using this one but I'll cross my fingers that we're the only ones~ Feel free to share the event and please do support each other through our creativity! A character or pairing or kink or trope might not be your cup of tea, but let's celebrate how it is there for someone else who might really enjoy it, and keep a positive and passionate view whilst respecting boundaries by tagging works appropriately as always <3

Thank you for reading this far and I hope to see you all through they year adding your works and creativity to our fandom <3 we have so much amazing talent here, I'm delighted to have the privilege of seeing it all~

[venus-haze]

Reach Out, Touch Faith (Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader)

Summary: Day 22 - Thigh Riding. Someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. No spoilers for the show in this fic. I finally caught up on Grotesquerie and had to write something for Father Charlie! Shoutout to @leopard-skin-pillbox-hat-ok for even putting this show on my radar. Title comes from Personal Jesus by Depeche Mode.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: Sexually explicit content involving a member of the clergy, thigh riding, some degradation.

Only Father Charlie could walk the line between a wet dream and a saint. You found this out rather quickly after becoming a parishioner. It’d been years since you went to church, but moving to the small town offered little in the way of a social life outside of work, so you swallowed your pride and began showing up to mass, and then getting involved in everything from the soup kitchen to movie nights. He didn’t judge you when you admitted you were there to make friends. In fact, he encouraged it.

“People feel increasingly isolated these days,” he had told you. “The church used to be a place for people to meet and make connections, I’m glad it’s serving you that way. Gives me hope for the future of our parish.”

After just a few weeks, people actually got to know you, to the point where you were invited to get coffee with some or join others for dinner. But in your heart, you knew you were mostly showing up for Father Charlie. Especially since he followed you on Instagram, and you almost considered softblocking him so he couldn’t see what you were up to. Morbid curiosity got the better of you, and you followed him back, dragged to the depths your desire by the videos of him exercising on his feed—his toned muscles flexing, skin glimmering with sweat. Your hand flew to your mouth when he squirted water from a bottle on himself. What the fuck kind of priest even did that?

You could hardly look him in the eye the next time you saw him. When he cornered you after a book club meeting, it was almost like he knew.

“You know, for everything you’re involved in, all of the meetings and events you show up to, I’ve never had you for confession,” he said.

It was the way he said it—had you—that made you take pause. As if his being a priest obscured something close to lust, almost implied consummation.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to know who’s confessing,” you said.

“I’d know your voice.”

“I guess I’m just scared, Father.”

“Of what? God’s judgment?” he asked. “He’s merciful if you bring your sins to Him.”

“More along the lines of what you’ll think of me.”

He smiled. “You haven’t killed anyone, have you?”

“God, no!”

“Well, there’s blasphemy,” he joked. “Come by tomorrow at seven. No one else will be here. No pressure.”

Sitting in the confessional almost made you feel claustrophobic. You didn’t know what to do with your hands, so you folded them across your lap, waiting for Father Charlie to speak from the other side of the screen.

“How long has it been since your last confession?”

You paused, trying to remember an exact date, but nothing came to mind. “A few years, probably.”

“That’s alright. What sins do you bring forward today?”

“I don’t know,” you lied.

“You don’t know?” he repeated incredulously.

“No. I can’t think of anything.”

He scoffed. You could practically see the sneer on his face through the screen. “I can list off some. Pride, selfishness, leading others into temptation—do you have any idea what you’re capable of doing? The depths you can cause a man to sink to? The sins of the flesh proliferate every aspect of our modern lives and you—you just—”

“Father?”

After a few moments of tense silence, he spoke your name softly. “I want you to leave the confessional. If there’s no one around, come over to my side.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Against your better judgment, you left the confessional and rounded it to the other side. When you opened the door, he looked at you expectantly, curling his pointer and index fingers to beckon you inside.

You hesitated. Almost took a step back, except he reached for you, pulling you in with him. If you thought it was claustrophobic before, your body, cramped in so closely with his, would have been enough to make you anxious on its own, but the proximity, his body heat, his dark brown eyes blazing with a vengeful lust, drew a whine from you when you were maneuvered onto his lap, one of his thick thighs between your legs. You suddenly wished you hadn’t worn a skirt—knee-length, modest enough when you picked it out, but woefully inadequate for the way his hand slipped up it, his fingers brushing your pussy through your panties.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, dripping with arousal in the house of the Lord.”

Rage filled your chest at his taunt. “You have some fucking nerve to accuse me,” you hissed. “Your socials are shameless. I almost thought I was on OnlyFans, the way you flaunt yourself.”

“But you liked what you saw, didn’t you?” he pressed. “Why else would you have come to confession if not for your guilty conscience?” He flexed his muscular thigh beneath you, a pathetic sounding whimper echoing from your lips in the confessional. “Unless you’re only chasing lust, that fleeting, deadly sin.”

“For the love of God, put up or shut up,” you snapped.

He was at a loss for words, then, and letting your pride get the better of you, you kissed him—claiming him was more like it, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip until he shivered beneath you. 

Steadying yourself on his shoulders, you rocked your hips back and forth against his thigh, the friction from the fabric teasing your clit so perfectly, you couldn’t help the cry that tore from your throat until he silenced you with his mouth on yours. Sweat rolled down your back at your exertion, making your blouse stick to your skin, the confessional almost suffocatingly hot.

“Is this what you had in mind, Father?” you mocked, your voice husky and almost cruel, though you knew if anyone walked in, they’d be able to hear. Wouldn’t take very long for a keen listener to figure out what was going on. “Is this my penance?”

“God, yes,” he groaned, his strong hands kneading your ass.

You chased your orgasm, finally finding it when he moaned your name in your ear like a prayer. Rode out your ecstasy on his thigh, a sick thrill rushing through you at the thought of the wet spot you’d leave on his pants, the physical evidence of your debauchery, if the only witness to it was the ever-silent, omnipresent, judging eyes of God.

“Is that all, Father?” you asked breathlessly, glancing down at the prominent tent in his pants.

With a shaky sigh, he leaned his head back, palming his crotch. “Go—go say ten Hail Marys.” 

When you knelt down at the pew just outside of the confessional, you began the first of your penitent prayers with the sound of his groans and soft curses echoing in your ears.

[anthurak]

Okay so a few things I think are worth discussing about Lucifer’s very noticeable non-presence in Mastermind, and how it is very much NOTED by the narrative:

For one, I think this pretty firmly sets Helluva Boss, certainly the show up to this point, as taking place BEFORE Hazbin Hotel, or at least the events of the first Season. As in, Lucifer is clearly still a hyper-depressed shut-in spending all day making rubber ducks.

Which brings us to the next point; concerning the hints we seem to be getting this episode that Satan is taking advantage of Lucifer’s absence to try and rule Hell in his stead.

The thing is, I’m pretty sure this is a plot point that will NOT be resolved in Helluva Boss, but rather in Hazbin Hotel. As in, the dealings and power-plays of the Seven Deadly Sins are well outside the scope of characters like Blitzo, Moxxie or even Stolas, yet are EXACTLY the sort of thing we could expect CHARLIE to be dealing with.

Basically, I think this stuff with Satan this episode, not to mention the brewing conflict between Asmodeus and Mammon that got setup in the midseason special, are essentially setting up plotlines for Hazbin’s future seasons.

As in, Season 2 or 3 of Hazbin will have Lucifer, and more notably Charlie, working to unite the seven rings of Hell, aka putting Lucifer’s old band/theater troop back together, aka Charlie having to deal with all her wacky, dysfunctional aunts and uncles.

In particular, I think it’s especially interesting to consider CHARLIE having to do all this, possibly due to Lucifer being otherwise occupied by goings-on in Pride (say, negotiating with Heaven).

For one, it gives us a potential ‘Charlie and Vaggie taking a road-trip through the seven rings’, but more notably I think it’s easy to imagine this providing Charlie with a whole arc about Charlie growing into a leader. Specifically, the future leader of Hell.

I mean we’re already throwing around ideas of Lucifer dropping in to smack Satan back into line, but what if instead it was CHARLIE? It makes perfect sense, right? Charlie is at first trying to play nice and get her aunts and uncles to help, and while Ozzie, Bee and maybe Belphagor might be sympathetic, Mammon, Leviathan and Satan are just as quick to shoo her off and ignore her.

Until Charlie has had enough of this shit, gets her next-level power-up and kick’s Uncle Satan’s ass.

[nicholasluvbot]

𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗆 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂'𝗆 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 ۶ৎ 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝖾 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗐𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁, 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗐𝖾 𝖾𝖺𝗍 ? 𝗂 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 ──── 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 ^0^

ㅤㅤ𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ──── 𝐒𝐈𝐗 ( 𝟔 )

one. touch me with a kiss ╱ when you pepper their face with kisses 💌

two. when you don't reply to their texts ╱ smau crack

three. just friends ( hyung line ) ╱ things they do that make you question your friendship 💌

four. so high school ( maknae line ) ╱ them as your high school boyfriend

five. casual intimacy ╱ cherished moments with them that make your heart flutter 💌

six. i'll like you ╱ when your fans ship the two of you together

seven. make my heart melt in your arms, baby ╱ when they pull you on their lap

eight. my lips don't lie ╱ first kiss with them 💌

nine. number one girl ╱ princess treatment

ten. make you wanna kiss ╱ when you dodge their kisses 💌

eleven. love language ╱ when they silence your ramblings with a sweet kiss

twelve. be my little secret ╱ secret relationship 💌

thirteen. sweet as sin ╱ how they hold you while kissing

fourteen. warm ╱ when they are clingy 💌

fifteen. my first and last ╱ when they are drunk

sixteen. stuck with u ╱ domestic scenarios

ㅤㅤㅤ🍮ㅤㅤㅤ𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐒ㅤㅤ𓈒

(성호) PARK SUNGHO

one. about you ╱ coming soon !

(리우) LEE RIWOO

(재현) MYUNG JAEHYUN

one. urs ╱ fluff , bestfriends2lovers

two. different kisses shared ╱ fluff , headcanons

(태산) HAN TAESAN

one. we call it love ╱ fluff , down bad taesan 💌

two. heather ╱ fluff 💌

three. somewhere in between ╱ coming soon !

four. fall like a little girl ╱ fluff

(이한) KIM LEEHAN

one. adore ╱ fluff 💌

two. main thing ╱ situationship au, fluff

(운학) KIM WOONHAK

one. flying kiss ╱ fluff headcanons

event─────valentines day

[yanderenightmare]

Prompt List

Just a little list of writing exercises.

Use the traits, characteristics, and anything else associated with the coming prompts to create a character.

More details here: Writer's Block

♡ Apex Predator Hybrids

Lion, Wolf, Shark, Tiger, Polar Bear, Grizzly Bear, Saltwater Crocodile, etc. 

Apex Predator Club

♡ Mythological/SciFi Creatures

Vampire, Succubus, Werewolf, Zombie, Ghost, Droid, Robot, Alien etc.

JJK as Mythic Creatures BNHA as Mythic Creatures

♡ Seven Days of the Week

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday.

Yandere Days

♡ Seven Deadly Sins

Pride, Wrath, Sloth, Gluttony, Lust, Envy, Greed. 

Yandere Seven Deadly Sins

♡ Seven Heavenly Virtues

Humility, Patience, Diligence, Temperance, Chastity, Gratitude, Charity. 

Yandere Seven Heavenly Virtues

♡ The Four Seasons

Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall.

The Four Seasons as Boyfriends

♡ The Twelve Zodiac Signs

Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricorn, Aquarius, Pisces. You can break them up into fire, water, earth, and air signs.

♡ The Twelve Months

January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December. You can break them up into winter, spring, summer, and fall months.

♡ Numbers

One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten etc.

♡ Five (or ten) Fingers

Pinkie, Ring finger, Middle finger, Pointer, Thumb. Have fun with their names and qualities.

♡ Nature’s Four (or more) Elements

Water, Earth, Fire, Air—plus Plasma, Gravity, Ice, Life, etc, if you want.

♡ Eras

The Dark Ages, Industrial Age, Age of Oil, Atomic Era, Space Age, Internet Age, etc.

♡ Fashion Periods

Victorian, Art Nouveau, WW1, Art Deco, The Roaring 20s, WW2, Hollywood, Rock & Roll, Swinging Sixties, Flower Power, Disco Fever, New Romantics, Yuppies, Grunge, Boho, Fast Fashion, Thrifting, etc.

♡ Today’s Fashion Styles

Minimalism, Chic, Thriftstore, Goth, Grunge, Punk, Hippie, Couture, Old Money, Streetwear, Preppy, etc.

♡ The Eight Planets + Pluto

Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, Pluto.

♡ Other Celestial Bodies

Sun, Moon, The North Star, Shooting Star, Comets, etc.

♡ Countries (pick & choose)

America, Britain, Spain, Japan, etc… think Hetalia, though I haven’t watched it personally…

♡ American States (pick & choose)

California, Texas, Florida, New York, Pennsylvania, Illinois, Ohio, Georgia, etc.

♡ The Five (or more) Flavors

Sweet, Salty, Sour, Bitter, and Umami—and No Flavor, like pure water.

♡ The Five (or more) Senses

Sight, Smell, Hearing, Taste, Touch—Balance and Proprioception—and maybe even Emotion and Thinking.

♡ Core Subjects (or others)

English, History, Social Studies, Science, Foreign Language, Gym, Art, Music, Geography, etc. Maybe base it around the teacher of each class.

♡ School Mobs

Principal, Homeroom Teacher, Student Council President, Tutor, Class Rep, Janitor, Frat House President, Frat House Alumni, Valedictorian, Head Nurse, etc. You can mix this one with the one on Core Subjects above, including them as teachers.

♡ The Periodic Table (pick & choose)

Gold, Oxygen, Arsenic, Tungsten, etc.

♡ Music Genres

Classical, Rock, Rap, Pop, Jazz, Country, Electronic, Dubstep, House, Folk, Hip-hop, New-Age, Indie, Beatbox, A’cappella, Heavy Metal, Bebop, etc.

♡ TV and Movie Genres

Horror, Thriller, Western, Romance, Comedy, Action, Sci-Fi, Children’s movie, Fantasy, Adventure, Drama, Documentary, Mockumentary, Musical, Animation, Anime, Porn, Reality TV, News, etc.

♡ Book and Writing Genres

Poetry, Fiction, True Events, Scientific, Picture, Fan-fiction, Joke, Fun Fact, Cook, Craft, Knitting, Magazine, etc.

♡ Hobbies

Singing, Knitting, Arts, Sewing, Writing, Gaming, etc.

♡ Toxic traits

Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Protectiveness, Gaslighting, Manipulation, Lying, Selfishness, Controlling behaviour, Jealousy, Boundary-violating, Judgemental, Defensive, Stone-walling, Feigning Ignorance, Avoiding Accountability, Aggressive, Querrelsome, etc.

♡ Food

Junk, Guilty pleasure, Fast food, Frozen, Healthy, Self-grown, Gains, Street, Dessert, Candy, etc.

♡ Holidays and Celebrations

Christmas, Valentine's, Halloween, Easter, Snow-day, April Fools, Birthday, Summer break, Saint Patrick's, etc.

♡ The Seven Colors of the Rainbow

Red, Orange, Yellow, Green, Blue, Indigo, Violet.

♡ Sports

Gaming, Chess, Football, Basketball, Tennis, Frisbee Golf, Golf, etc.

♡ Tools

Hammer, Wrench, Drill, Saw, etc.

♡ Sicknesses

Common cold, Flu, Mono, Hangover, Crossfade, etc.

♡ The Eight Core Emotions

Ecstasy, Admiration, Terror, Amazement, Grief, Loathing, Rage, Vigilance.

♡ Transportation Methods

Car, Train, Motorcycle, Dirt bike, Boat, Plane, Submarine, Bike, Walking, etc.

♡ Weaponry

Gun, Sword, Dagger, Bow and Arrow, Crossbow, Whip, Slingshot, Poison, etc.

♡ Terrain

Forest, Desert, Ocean, Tundra, etc—think Minecraft biomes!

♡ Fonts

Times New Roman, Futura, Impact, Papyrus, etc. Probably good to have pictures with this one.

♡ Types of Depression + Symptoms

Melancholia, Anxiety, Insomnia, Hypersomnia, Bipolar, Despondency, Amnesia, Self-consciousness, etc.

♡ Art Mediums

Oil Paint, Acrylic, Charcoal, Pastel, Watercolor, Collage, Digital, etc.

♡ Architecture Styles

Neoclassical, Gothic, Contemporary, Industrial, Victorian, Colonial, Vernacular, Suburban, etc.

♡ A Deck of Cards

Spade, Hearts, Diamond, Clover—King, Queen, Jack, Ace, Joker, Numbers. Maybe make them four opposing kingdoms, with the reader being a delegator of some kind.

♡ Chess Pieces

White, Black—King, Queen, Rook, Bishop, Knight, Pawn. Two opposing sides, with the reader being a delegator of some kind maybe.

♡ Different Types of Money

Nickel, Dime, Penny, Quarter, One dollar bill, Five dollar bill, Twenty dollar bill, Transaction, Million dollar check, Inheritance, Settlement, Insurance, Paycheck, Tax return, etc.

♡ Types of Dates

Cinema, home, cafe, amusement park, picnic, hike, beach, etc.

♡ Grocery Store Aisles

Fresh Produce Section, Deli and Prepared Foods, Frozen Foods, Bakery and Bread, Meat and Seafood, Dairy, Cereal and Breakfast foods, Snack and Chip, Alcohol, Pet Food, Soft Drinks, Canned food, Health and Body Care, Magazine and Books, Cleaning Products, Condiments and Sauces, Cooking Oils, Baking supplies, etc.

♡ The Six Military Branches

The Army, Marine Corps, Navy, Air Force, Space Force, Coast Guard.

♡ Palace Mobs

King, Queen, Prince, Princess, Ward, Advisor, Grand Knight, Groundskeeper, Head Cook, Grand Healer, Priest, etc.

♡ Harry Potter

Hogwarts’ Houses—Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw.

Hogwarts’ Mandatory Classes—Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, History of Magic, Astronomy, Herbology, and Defense Against the Dark Arts, Flying/Quidditch. Plus elective classes like Care of Magical Creatures, Alchemy, Muggle Studies, Divination, Study of Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy.

If you base it on teachers, you can also include the Principal, Groundskeeper, and Head Nurse.

Patronus (Pick & Choose)—There are more than a hundred different ones.

The Books—Philosopher's Stone, Chamber of Secrets, Prisoner of Azkaban, Goblet of Fire, Order of the Phoenix, Half-Blood Prince, Deathly Hallows.

♡ Star Wars

Color of Lightsabers—Green, Blue, Yellow, Red, Orange, Purple, White, Black.

♡ Game Characters

Minecraft Mobs & Characters—Steve, Enderman, Pigman, Skeleton, Witch, Villager, Zombie, Stone Golem, Ender Dragon, etc.

Dungeons & Dragons Base Classes—Barbarian, Bard, Cleric, Druid, Fighter, Monk, Paladin, Ranger, Rogue, Sorcerer, Warlock, Wizard.

You can also use any other type of game…

♡ Professions

This is a whole list in and of itself. These don’t have to be grouped together, but can be prompts on there own:

♡ Gangsters

Kingpin, Mob, Mafia, Loan sharks, Extortionists, Blackmailers, Pimp, Drug dealers, Gang member, Muscle, Hitman, Mercenary, Bounty hunter, Sex traffickers, etc.

♡ Government + Law & Order

King, President, Governor, Politician, Senator, Congressman, Law official, Judge, Lawyer, Agent, Spy, Cop, Parole officer, Warden, Prison guard, etc.

♡ Health

Doctor, Surgeon, Therapist, Psychiatrist, Dentist, Personal trainer, Health manager, etc.

♡ Art

Painter, Sculptor, Writer, Poet, Film director, Photographer, Singer, etc.

♡ Service

Bartender, Waiter, Barista, Butler, etc.

♡ Sex worker

Pornstar, Prondirector, Stripper, Escort, Sugarbaby, etc.

♡ Transportation

Pilot, Chueffer, Taxi driver, Train conductor, Ship’s Captain, etc.

♡ Sport

Pro-athlete, Pro-gamer, Chessplayer, Football player, American football player, Basketball player, etc.

♡ Rural

Cowboy, Farmer, Hermit, Hunter, etc.

♡ Handymen

Carpenter, Plumber, Electrician, Contractor, Construction worker, Mechanic, etc.

♡ Science

Scientist, Biologist, Chemist, etc.

♡ Business mogul & Industrialists

Network owner, Tech innovator, Factory owner, Company owner, etc.

♡ NIGHTMARE'S HELPDESK

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch Chapter Nine: Time Mends the Broken

|Aemond Targaryen x Strong!Reader|

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: 9.2k words later and here we are! That's almost as much as the other Ch. The Long Night. Finally, Jace and his sister talk about what's happened to them! I know some of y'all have been waiting for that. We really go deep into the reader and Aemond's dynamic in this one too. As always, thank you for your patience and happy reading! (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Chapter Warnings: ✨Targaryen queerness✨, melodramatic young adults, mentions of rape, Alicent being delulu, toxic relationships.

As your family arrived at the Red Keep, they quickly vanished, and your mother ordered your maids to repack your belongings. If you ever were, you were no longer welcomed in King’s Landing and planned to return to Dragonstone within the night. Part of you thought you would be relieved at the notion of ending your stay abruptly, seeing as you never wanted to return in the first place, yet you couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment in the pit of your stomach as you helped Edwina collect your belongings. 

The magnitude of the situation engulfed you, leaving you unable to carry on with your duties. While the other maids of the Keep merely cast fleeting glances in your direction, Edwina, your lady-in-waiting, observed your distress with sincere concern.

“Your Highness, are you feeling well?” Edwina asked as she finished folding a pearl and turquoise dress into your trunk.

As you nodded, you offered her a weak, forced smile, which resembled more of a grimace. Your eyes quickly darted towards your weathered, old wooden wardrobe. You couldn’t quite remember if it was positioned in the same spot as it had been six years ago.

“I am,” you sighed, walking to the balcony doors. These were not welded shut as you pressed the handle. “The day has been tiresome, and now we must depart after being here for a mere breath. I want to take a moment of solace.”

She gazed at you with a weary expression, her eyes filled with apprehension, as she observed you making your way to the overlook. As you breathed the fresh air, recollections of the last time you were on a balcony flashed before Edwina. Still, her anxiety gradually subsided as she noticed you choosing to sit on a stone bench rather than the railing.

The imposing walls of the Red Keep emanated a chilling aura that seemed to seep into your very marrow. The unknown secrets concealed within its ancient stones caused an involuntary shiver to run down your spine. You couldn’t help but wonder what tales they would tell if given the chance. 

Would they reveal the long-buried truths about your family’s past and confirm the whispers surrounding your lineage? Would they speak with a tender understanding as they recounted the night of your most profound sorrow? Or perhaps they would steadfastly guard their secrets, refusing to yield to any interrogation. 

It almost felt as if the walls were already whispering, hoarding their enigmatic knowledge until the distant future when they would finally crumble and release their concealed truths.

You longed for a glimpse into Aemond’s formative years and the events that molded him into the individual he is today, these red stone walls witnessed. Understanding the circumstances of his upbringing would clarify the questions that troubled your mind concerning the correspondence you penned. You held onto the hope that he read them, but uncertainty clouded your thoughts.

The heavy doors to the chambers of your childhood bedroom swung open with a resounding clang as the guard stationed outside announced the arrival of Queen Alicent. Your maids bowed as the formidable, angular figure of the Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms entered the sanctity of your bedroom. You could not refuse her presence in this private space despite your reluctance.

“Your Majesty,” you greeted, rising from your seat. Refusing to give her any more pleasantries that would be customary, you observed the maids leave, Alicent’s round amber eyes focused on you.

“Won’t you come inside, princess? I wish to speak with you after all these years,” she humbly requested. 

You understood it was a command and acquiesced. A part of you wanted to be obstinate and force her to meet you in the cold late winter air, but the courtly manner instilled within you since birth prevailed as you gently shut the hickory-framed balcony doors. 

“Sit.” 

Alicent gracefully motioned towards the inviting, opulent settee in front of the crackling fire, asserting her ownership of the space with a subtle yet commanding gesture. Despite the prickling sensation of anxiety coursing through your skin, you obediently followed her lead, attempting to conceal your unease. With a deep, almost wistful sigh, she fixed her gaze upon you, exuding an affectionate warmth that reminded you of your mother, and tenderly placed her delicate palm on your hand. Struggling to suppress the instinct to pull away, you grappled with conflicting emotions.

The hush that filled the space between you stretched on, heavy and suffocating, yet the Queen remained oblivious to its weight. To her, your company was a balm after enduring years shrouded in darkness without her guiding radiance.

“I wanted to apologize for Aemond’s behavior this evening. ‘Twas unbecoming of him,” she began, a prominent frown on her plump lips. “These grievances from childhood have gone unjust for so long that his anger has consumed him.”

Nodding grimly, you focused on the hearth, the orange and blue flames dancing with the moaning drafts. “Indeed. Jace, Luke, and I were not always kind to him growing up, but we did not know any better. We followed Aegon around like newborn pups until...”

“I know, my light. Perhaps an apology could soothe Aemond’s wounds?” she comforted, smoothing the unruly strands of your updo. You apologized years ago for your part in his torment, but you didn’t believe your brothers would extend the courtesy, nor would you change Aemond’s blackened heart. “You’ve grown so much in years past. I mourn not being able to be there to guide you.”

You sat there, not saying a word, and responded with a noiseless, polite, yet uneasy smile. You carefully withdrew your hand from hers, and to mask the action, you casually scratched the back of your neck, noticing the sensation of the tiny strands of hair beneath your fingertips.

“My letters? Did you get them?” Alicent questioned, desperate to prolong any contact with you.

You were unsure how to answer, knowing it would be unwise to tell her outright that you did but didn’t answer out of malice. For six years, Queen Alicent was left to stew with her thoughts and illusions, and you worried that if you conflicted them, she would become as unstable as she did the night of Driftmark.

“I was worried what my mother would say should she discover them, so I never wrote.” You supposed telling her part of the truth wouldn’t be a lie. You were concerned about what your mother would do if she found out you wrote to Alicent, but you still had no desire to speak to her.

She looked at you with sympathy, coming to caress the plumpness of your face with her knuckle. It seemed as if she couldn’t become close enough to you. “I see. I’m sorry you must endure that, but you are here now. Together once more.” 

What could you say to her and still keep the pleasantries? After everything that happened, from Aegon to Driftmark, you no longer held Queen Alicent in the same regard. The conversation did not come easily, and you could tell she noticed. 

“Rhaenyra plans to return on the morrow once she sees your family home. I would like you to come with her. You’ve barely just arrived, and Helaena would enjoy more time with you. She and I would love for you to meet the twins,” she smiled, sounding so hopeful it caused a pit in your stomach. “You and Aemond were friends before he lost his eye. I understand he seems to have changed greatly since you last saw him, yet I feel that the goodness inside him will prevail over time,” the Queen retook your hand, disregarding your obvious discomfort, “with you by his side.” 

Stare growing wide, you turned to Alicent, feeling a panic beat inside your chest like the wings of a dragon. “What do you mean?” 

Was the Queen still so desperate to have you join her family? 

She gave you the briefest of smiles as she tilted her head, studying your countenance as if you were some holy text. You changed as much as Aemond in Alicent’s eyes, yet she knew you were still hers. No distance or time could break the cord that tethered her to you. You were back home where you belonged, and although she was happy to be united with Rhaenyra, she would not let her dream be taken from her once more.

“No person knows one’s child better than their mother. I saw how he looked at you, eye never trailing too far from yours, poised to protect your honor. I worried I would witness a fight between Aemond and Aegon when he took you to dance,” she confessed. Your breath quickened, and you felt relief knowing what you felt wasn’t inside your head. 

“You want me to return to King’s Landing so Aemond and I…” You couldn’t say it aloud; words stuck in your throat. 

“Yes,” Alicent grinned, showing perfectly white teeth as she brought you close. Instinctively, she pulled your head into the crook of her neck, smelling her distinctive scent as she rubbed circles across your back. It was still the same frankincense after all these years, and you felt the fond memories of time spent with Alicent come flooding back. 

The tea times filled with sweets, laughter, and smiles entered your mind until it was replaced with the sound of Aemond’s scream, blood dripping from your mother’s wrist. You could not bring yourself to part from the Queen out of fear of what she would do. Alicent seemed so happy, yet you could sense the undercurrent of instability should you suddenly reject her affections. There was no choice but for you to accept whatever she wanted if it meant that there would be no more animosity between your families.

“I will confer with the king before bed and inform your mother when you return. This is a joyous occasion for us, my light,” she said, pulling your body impossibly tighter as you felt your hidden face contort into a weary grimace. 

You loved Aemond after all these years, but you held an uncertainty about whether he would overcome his grudges for the good of your House, and that did not account for whether your mother would agree to the proposal. She refused for you to marry into the Greens before, and with you being her heir, she might use you as all people did to their daughters, though you hoped you would be allowed to have some choice. Even if this wasn’t one, you desired to wed Aemond, if not out of love, but to secure peace between the two warring factions and your mother’s inheritance. 

Suddenly, the shared door to your childhood chambers opened and unexpectedly revealed your twin. Jace stood there breathless, not expecting you to have a visitor as he observed you tucked within the Queen’s embrace. He noticed the uneasy expression on your visage, brown eyes flicking from you to her, unsure what to do. 

At the acknowledgment of Jace’s presence, Alicent released you without a word, smoothing her structured gown with an air of cold indifference that enveloped her as she stood. 

“Sleep well, Princess,” she dismissed with a gentle nod. The necklace of the Seven-Pointed Star resting on her chest glittered in the candlelight as she left, not sparing a glance at your brother.

You and Jace did not speak. He was too stunned to see you and Alicent in a shared embrace, especially after what happened in the dining hall. That person shaped Aemond into the man he is today, sculpting the fresh clay of his mind into despising his niece and nephews. 

“What did she want?” Jace finally decided to ask with a defensive stance on his thin body. 

Sighing, you held your temples in your palms, a dejected sensation coming over you like a shroud. What could you say to him? The truth, you supposed. You never lied to your twin, but this did not feel like something you could tell him, especially after what occurred tonight. He would be upset at the notion and run to tell your mother.

“She apologized for Aemond’s behavior at supper,” you answered with exhaustion, the day’s turmoil finally taking its toll. You faced the trauma of your past without preparation and watched a man’s head get sliced clean through. You deserved to take a moment’s rest. 

Jace’s dark brows furrowed, more questions than answers coming to mind as he approached your slouched form. Typically, you would lean into his presence like no others, seeking comfort only your blood could give. At this moment, it did not feel right to do so. The past, present, and future hung heavy on your soul.

“You were embracing her,” your twin stated, which seemed to disgust him. “Where do you think Aegon and Aemond learned their behaviors?” 

Standing with a groan of annoyance, you paced to your partially packed clothes trunk, attempting to find anything to distance yourself from Jace’s pointed interrogation. “Yes, brother. When one apologizes, they tend to form some connection to express their sincerity.”

Jace scoffed, his lean body swiftly following your steps. “Are you unwell? Since the hearing, you’ve been cold with me.” 

“And why do you suppose that is?” you spun with a bark, eyes wide with vexation. Jace said not a word, curling his lips to wet them in anxiety. You knew he knew the reason but couldn’t understand why your brother refused to act as if nothing changed. “The future we grew up believing together is now nothing but a childish fantasy. Do you not comprehend how that makes me feel? To live with one thing so constant in life only for it to be ripped away in mere moments?”

Silence decorated the room, leaving the only sound to be the crackling of the roaring fire and thumping of your broken heart. Tears burned your nose, flowing down your cheeks in a salty mixture of scorn and sadness. 

“I understand that you feel as upturned as I do, but you have someone to love and hold in your life. Something that can give you that certainty in your life only it can. I…” your voice broke, filled with emotions that threatened to drown you. “I now have to find that something—to navigate a world full of men who will lie, betray me, and think themselves worth more than they are so that they may reach ultimate power. I will become a prize to win rather than someone’s daughter, someone who lives and breathes and has desires of her own.”

Jace could see you spiraling, sinking into a pit of melancholy he feared you would not crawl out of. He realized he hadn’t stopped to think about what you could genuinely be feeling. It was given that you felt the same shock, rage, and disappointment he did, but beyond that, he hadn’t considered what this meant for your relationship or future. 

To have someone be your first in everything and grow up with the idea that they would also be your last stunted emotional and social growth with others. Jace was given the comfort of knowing who would be his new end, but you weren’t afforded the luxury. A selfish part of him hoped you would never find someone in this sense. You were his sister. He realized this was the ego of a self-centered man speaking, not the brother you cherished with your body and soul.

Not knowing how to improve this impossible situation, Jace brought you close, holding your sobbing form in his familiar arms. He felt your fingers clench his tunic as you attempted to ground yourself. Tears soon fell from his dark lashes and onto your crown. You looked at him with matching sorrow, instinctively stroking the soft bone of his cheek in the manner you knew simultaneously weakened and emboldened him. 

Sleep did not come easy to Aemond on this night despite the intense wine he drank at dinner to ease his soul. How could the Prince find sleep after what happened? After he was forced to sit and break bread with the people who altered his life forever? You were never his family, yet thoughts of your shared youth and camaraderie infected his mind like grayscale. It loomed over him like dark clouds beckoning a storm.

Alicent, his mother, whom he cherished dearly, cowered in her beliefs at the mere notion that her long-lost friend gave even the slightest acknowledgment. She impressed upon Aemond, and his siblings Rhaenyra’s flaws and the sins she called children were abominations unfit to inherit the Crown. Now, after merely six years, none of that seemed to matter. He felt angry—betrayed. Was this not what his mother wanted of him? For Aemond to stand behind Aegon’s claim and their family regardless of the web, Rhaenyra spun around her.

The sting of tears sprung in his violet eye, but Aemond quickly willed them to stop by replacing them with his fury. He was not weak. He held the family together, and you were not the family his mother claimed you to be. Had it not been for your kin’s unprecedented arrival, all would be as it should be. A father he longed for attention from but never got, on the Stranger’s door, his brother drowning himself in his cups instead of your presence, and you, far across Blackwater Bay on Dragonstone, living a life you were undeserving of. Aemond did feel slightly vindicated when he saw your ghostly expression when Princess Rhaenys stated Jacaerys’s betrothal.

The Prince understood then that your life was capsizing, but at least you still had two plain, working eyes.

His ire was no longer contained, and his mind continued to reel, boiling over until he threw the bedsheets from his tense body and dawned a nightshirt. Aemond hated you. He loathed you and was not one to leave a conversation without the upper hand as he left his chambers, slinking into one of Maegor’s secret passages. 

It was involuntary how Jace’s body responded to yours, your touch so familiar it was impossible not to succumb to the sins of the past as your moist lips met. Heat ignited inside your loins as it did his, your hands winding themselves inside his choppy hair, barely taking a minute to breathe. You were unsure who was the first to disrobe the other, grabbing one another’s buckles and strings until there was nothing but air between your hot flesh.

“We shall say goodbyes to our previous beliefs tonight, Jace. I shall not be your whore and sister,” you declared against his cheek as you lowered him onto your childhood bed. “Nor shall you be mine. I respect your union far more than that.” 

“And I yours,” Jace quickly replied with a strained grunt, settling his cock between your wet folds as you rocked yourself to full arousal.

It would be difficult for both of you to navigate new bodies for the first time again, to find what made the other person curl their toes in abandon. For Jace, you knew how he loved the way it felt to be inside you to the fullest extent and saw how his older sister rode him to take her pleasure. For you, Jace knew that the little nub at the top of your silt was the epicenter for the majority of your pleasure, teasing the thing with his mouth, tongue, digits, and whatever else he could to see you so grateful for him.

You suddenly longed for your twin despite being in his presence, reminding yourself of your torturous time apart as you leaned forward, devouring his pouty lips and balancing yourself to become one. Your slick walls welcomed Jace inside like they were his home, feeling the head brush against the sensitive spot deep inside, the pair of you moaning into each other’s mouths as you began to move with gradual and firm movements of your hips. Each grind and lift of your body slowly bloomed ecstasy between your thighs, using your hands and core to savor yet heighten the experience to reach that inevitable peak. 

Aemond expected you to be alone, or at the very least, with a maid when he reached the destination Aegon had shown him. He did not ask how his brother knew of such things, though the answer was clear. Whatever semblance of a plan Aemond conjured on his march through the damp tunnels was abruptly extinguished once he heard your girlish cries—loathing to admit it aloud, the Prince’s ire softened at the noise. He grunted, poised to open the wall and have him be the reason you wailed, but he ceased his movements at the deep timbre that comforted your sorrows. 

It was Jace. The beloved brother you would willingly give up your life for, holding you within his arms as you sobbed. The sight flared his nostrils and sent a burning sensation to his stomach that he tried to ignore.

It was expected that your twin would be in your bed chambers. Aemond knew of the rumors surrounding your closer-than-normal sibling relationship. While it wasn’t seen as taboo in Targaryen customs, the common folk who practiced the Faith certainly would see it as a sin if they knew. 

The One-Eyed Prince stood silently in the dim recesses concealed behind the rough-hewn stone wall. His breath barely made a sound as he cautiously pried it open enough to glimpse the unfolding scene. A flicker of annoyance shot through him at the thought of Jace unexpectedly discovering his presence. He stifled the urge to groan, focusing instead on the poignant sobs that echoed through the air. 

Before him were the illegitimate children of his half-sister, caught in their web of delusions, seemingly convinced that they could escape the relentless strains of duty that had ensnared so many before them. Aemond watched with disdain and pity, realizing they were blissfully unaware of the sacrifices the world demanded of them in exchange for power and prestige. You and your brother sat huddled together, your voices trembling thick with emotion as you expressed the despair of being forced into marriages with people you barely knew, let alone desired.

Aemond’s gaze narrowed as he observed your youthful faces, illuminated by the waning light flickering with the candles. Your immaturity was evident. The rawness of your feelings revealed how little you understood the harsh realities of noble life. It was a bitter irony, this burden, the necessity of sacrificing personal happiness for strategic alliances. The weight of such obligations pressed heavily on your shoulders, a burden that felt especially crushing in your youthful naivety.

Embraces soon turned to caresses, which morphed into kisses as he observed Jace untie the laces of your crimson gown. Aemond felt his stomach lurch, the involuntary fear of the events being nonconsensual guiding his sudden urge to protect you. He halted his movements as he watched you disrobe your brother, blood draining from his heart and into his cock when he saw your naked form.

The womanly figure he saw within the courtyard was able to be admired. The slope of your elongated neck that still held your necklace led down to your two perfect mounds of flesh, rounded and shaped almost to the teardrops that sparkled on your skin—a soft place to rest your head in comfort. Curves and rolls decorated the rest of your body as he watched you move in time with Jace, bestowing upon Aemond the perfect view of your hips that were sturdy and plush, housing a womb to bear your future husband’s children.

Your body was a picture of the Maiden, Aemond mused, feeling his cheeks heat with growing desire. You were a depiction of a woman, so soft and plump, a perfect contrast that would fit with his muscular and sinewy body. The Prince could imagine your stomach stretched with a child and breasts full of milk as they leaked through pert nipples and onto his tongue.

The shame Aemond felt at thinking such things of his bastard niece warred in his mind, logic battling with lust as his breeches became too tight. He refused to succumb to his sinful desires and embraced the pain of his longing.

A flicker of callow hope lingered in the shadowy corners of Aemond’s mind as if clinging to the possibility that the gossip regarding you and your twin was nothing but a cruel fabrication. He wrestled with the notion of you as a sensual being, a struggle deepened by the haunting memories of Aegon’s transgressions against you. Like the common folk, he had unknowingly fallen prey to a comforting illusion—seeing you as a paragon of virtue, a righteous martyr navigating the treacherous waters of adolescence with grace and fortitude. 

To him, you were a pure maiden, your spirit untainted, who had bravely borne the trials and tribulations that beset young women, emerging with a noble resolve. The small childish part of Aemond wanted to believe you had sworn off the temptations that often ensnared others, choosing instead a path marked by selflessness and a profound commitment to righteousness. This image of you, painted in broad strokes of light and virtue, had unwillingly taken root in his mind, making the idea of you as anything other than an emblem of purity feel surreal and disconcerting.

The Prince noiselessly grunted in agony as his manhood painfully beat against the confines of his trousers, only for it to be swallowed by the soft sounds unique to only sex. He childishly hoped that he would be the man to break his imagined vow of chastity you took, but now he realized how much of a fantasy it was as he watched you take your twin’s cock between your glistening folds. 

Jace was the only thing that felt right to you today, like the embrace of a loved one you hadn’t seen in years. Your hip movements were practiced as they held the knowledge of what made your brother’s abdomen clench in ecstasy. You could feel your brother’s hands on you, so gentle, tender, and loving, having nothing of the malice your uncle carried today. 

Seeing Aemond now a man instead of the wide-eyed boy you knew stirred something within you that you had pushed aside earlier, igniting a fire you had never known existed in your soul. You imagined him here now and what it would be like to feel his manhood nestled so profoundly within you that there was no end. While you enjoyed the recognizable feeling of Jace and his delicateness, now that you had gotten a taste for the depravity of your uncle in his place, you found your movements daunting. Your knees began to ache, and your thighs started to burn, abruptly extinguishing the pleasure that was blossoming in your core.

This had never happened before, and you pushed yourself to continue, crashing that high that was always promised at the end. 

Praying that Jace did not notice, you leaned forward as you attempted to lose yourself in his kiss, stroking the sides of his visage. The more you moved, the more discouraged you became, resorting to seeking your pleasure with your own hands as you rubbed at your pearl, but nothing worked.

Frustration overshadowed any fulfillment. Your ministrations and Jace’s cock felt like an intrusion into your walls. Faking your release would not end this once-enjoyed act, and you steeled yourself to ensure this would be over soon. 

You felt terrible for Jace. You knew he would stop at his detriment to ensure you were well, but you refused to utter the reason behind why your body had become so ineffective. 

“You feel so good, brother. I need you to…” The dryness in your mouth halted your lies as you concealed it with a look of satisfaction. “I need you to finish. I’m so close.” Jace was none the wiser, too lost in pleasure as he profusely nodded.

It was painfully evident to anyone who glanced your way that you had lost interest in the moment. Your posture was rigid, and your eyes were clouded with discontent. Aemond couldn’t help but feel a troubling sense of satisfaction at that realization as if he had uncovered a hidden complexity in the situation. 

Your brother, Jace—the very same person you always believed understood you on a deeper plane—remained blissfully unaware of the turmoil swirling within you. His gaze lingered on your face, but it lacked the perceptiveness needed to grasp the subtle but clear signs of your unhappiness.

Aemond’s thoughts raced. If only he were in his nephew’s shoes, he would have sensed the disturbance immediately. Unlike Jace, who seemed consumed by his emotions, Aemond had a keen intuition that allowed him to read the room with sharp clarity. He would not have focused on the fleeting pleasure of the moment. Instead, he would have delved beneath your act, seeking to uncover the reasons behind your discontent. Aemond envisioned himself beneath you, looking up at your flushed body with the intent of understanding the causes of your spiral, eager to address your needs and reignite the spark of ecstasy that once illuminated your expression.

If only…

Though it was mere minutes, it felt like hours, and you squeezed and loosened yourself around your twin’s cock, milking him in a way that would cause him fulfillment. He tried to stop you, taking hold of your plump hips as you continued. 

“Stop, sister. You haven’t… fuck…” Moving his palms to your breasts, you took control, sweat running down your neck from exertion as Jace struggled to keep himself from releasing. 

He was helpless. Toes curling and stomach clenching as you quickly lifted yourself off, stroking his pink shaft in place of your womanhood. Spurts of his pearlescent seed left from his pink tip and onto his waist and your hand, biting his lower lip in an attempt to silence his grunts of satisfaction as you slowed your movements so as not to overwhelm him. Jace’s heart raced inside his chest like a horse’s hooves as he came down from his high, fidgeting his legs and bringing your body up to kiss him. You did not mean to torture him, but it was finally done, and that was a relief in itself as you laid down beside him, stroking his hot torso. 

“You did not peak,” Jace began with a pout, moving himself to settle his body between your legs. “Let me make up for it.”

Inhaling a deep breath, you shook your head, pulling him up to rest beside you again. “There’s no need, brother. Your pleasure is enough to satisfy me,” you lied, stroking the choppy strands of his short hair behind his ear. He stared at you skeptically as you felt disgusted with yourself at the smell of sex in your bed chambers, causing revulsion to churn in your stomach. “Edwina will be back soon, and while I trust her, we do not need to risk another tongue-lashing from Mother. You are to be married soon and must be in her good graces. Come. Let me clean you.”

Jace sighed, slumping over his drying seed as you poured your drinking water into a bowl and gathered a cloth to wipe his stomach. You engrossed yourself in the action as you were too ashamed to speak, though your brother couldn’t possibly hate you more than you already did. 

Without many words between you, you helped him dress, throwing over an appropriate dress slip, smiling, and bestowing him fleeting touches not to have him worry. It was evident that Jace understood something was wrong, but the consequences for you and him, a betrothed man discovered in a compromising position, far outweighed any concerns. 

“Mother wants us ready to depart back to Dragonstone within the hour. We mustn’t waste any more time,” you ordered Jace in the way only you could, as he nodded.

Before he closed the door to your adjoining childhood chambers, he gave you one last kiss, saying farewell to the childish dreams of a future together. 

“I love you,” he stated. You gave him a bittersweet smile in return.

“And I you, more than the Gods allow.” 

Shutting the door behind him, you locked it, countenance dropping from the neutral expression to one of despair, sobs breaking from between your lips as you balanced yourself against the warm hearth.

The world around you felt utterly ruthless and deeply unjust, a suffocating weight pressing down on your heart. You couldn’t shake the bitterness that churned within you, directed at the memories of your past with Jace. It was painful to reflect on the years you spent entranced by the fantasy of life together, imagining the vows you would exchange and the family you would build. The reality, however, was a far cry from those dreams, each illusion crumbling under the harsh light of truth. 

Your mother’s actions echoed in your mind like a haunting refrain. It felt like she had orchestrated this betrayal all along, waiting for the opportunity to use her children. She wielded Jace and Luke as pawns, manipulating emotions to untangle her political complications, leaving you feeling forgotten and unutilized. In her quest to alleviate her burdens, your mother dismantled the very dreams you held dear, leaving you adrift in a sea of disappointment, grappling with the profound loss of a future you thought was within your grasp.

Through the haze of tears clouding your vision, you caught a glimpse of the wall beside your wardrobe, protruding ever so slightly as if it were hiding a secret. The air hung heavy with tension, and a chill ran down your spine. Only one person could be moving through the shadows of the Red Keep at this hour. Panic gripped your heart, tumbling down to your bare feet and leaving you frozen, an unwilling statue in the dim light. 

As you willed your limbs to move, you shuffled awkwardly across the cold wooden floor, acutely aware that Aegon was most likely watching you. The door to your brother’s room and the hallway felt painstakingly far away. The only option left was the balcony, its railing looming like an unwelcoming edge over the moat of spikes encircling Maegor’s Holdfast. 

The thought of plunging into those treacherous spikes sent a shiver through you. For now, hiding seemed your best chance. If you could buy yourself time, you might gain enough distance from Aegon to run to the hall full of guards.

With a whisper of dread, you crawled beneath your bed, the coarse dust and sticky cobwebs clinging to your dress and skin like the entrapments of a forgotten cellar. The muffled thud of footsteps echoed from the far wall, sending shivers down your spine as you watched Aegon’s boot enter your chambers, its polished leather glinting ominously in the dim light. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, a frantic drum of terror, as he paused at the foot of your bed, the air thick with unspoken tension.

With a sinking feeling, you covered your eyes with trembling hands, desperately praying to the Seven for Edwina’s swift return, but your silent plea hung unanswered around you. You heard Aegon grunt softly, the sound unsettling as he shuffled closer, his heavy shoes brushing against the stone floor. Every nerve in your body was taut with fear as you felt his gaze sweep beneath the bed, searching for you in the shadows.

A firm hand clamped around your arm, jolting you with a scream that echoed in the stillness. As your eyes fluttered open, you were met not with Aegon’s familiar, cropped hair but with a cascade of silver locks flowing down a lithe figure. Aemond knelt before you, his intense gaze focused and calculating as he studied your trembling form. The tension in the air hung heavy around you, amplifying the fear pulsing through your veins. You felt the warmth of his grip as he observed you, the world around fading into a blur, leaving only the sharp clarity of his presence.

Aemond found it almost laughable that you thought cowering beneath the bed, like a frightened child, could shield you from the world outside. He noted how a part of your gown, delicate and flowing, peeked out. In comparison, some of him relished his power to instill fear in you. A more profound understanding stirred within him as he noted your quivering lips, brows arched in fright. It wasn’t merely his presence that had regressed you to this vulnerable state. The haunting memory echoed in your mind whenever you lay in the stillness of twilight.

He recalled, in vivid detail, the night Aegon had violated you—a night marred by betrayal and anguish. You had confided in him, recounting how his older brother lured you through the shadowy tunnels with sweet promises of a secret just for you. The realization struck Aemond like a dagger. Your reaction was rooted in that traumatic experience, a natural response to the horror you had endured. Yet, as those memories surfaced, they ignited a fierce anger within him that dulled his compassion and overshadowed his instinct to comfort.

“If you’re here to hurt me, know that my Lady will be here any moment,” you whispered, tears glistening on your cheeks. The Prince felt transported back in time, seeing your girlish face before him like it had not aged from when you crawled into his bed and shared your first kiss.

“I have no want for depravity,” Aemond announced, releasing your arm. He rose from his crouched position but did not leave your room. This reminded him of the night you came to sleep in his chambers for this very reason, and he felt his black heart lighten at the tremble of your frightened voice.

“Then why are you here?” You were so weak and pathetic, nothing like the strong dragon you had portrayed yourself to be hours prior. 

Aemond sighed through his nose, seemingly exhausted from the conversation, sitting on the mattress above you as it creaked. “I’ve come to finish our conversation from earlier,” he declared casually with the cross of his leg. “Won’t you spare me the dignity of discussing such matters face to face?”

“I am quite content down here,” you quipped with a sniffle, fear still controlling your actions. “Say your piece.”

You heard him chuckle from above, a smirk no doubt on his features. “My brother will not harm you. He’s off to the Silk Streets at this very moment, drowning himself in wine and women,” the Prince offered in consolation. He hoped to get you out from under the bed, but he did find the situation amusing. 

“I pity them. Do you blame me for being so cautious after what happened tonight?” You wanted to prolong this momentary peace even if it was surrounding the gossip of another. “How Aegon so shamelessly flouted about the room? You saw how he acted, Aemond.”

“You are not innocent in the matter either, niece,” Aemond hummed as you covered an offended scoff. “If I recall, your dear twin took his wife and flouted about the room with her.” 

Your fierce sense of injustice compelled you to wriggle out from beneath the bed, carefully brushing off the dust and specks of debris that had settled on your gown. It was a soft fabric that now seemed to bear the marks of your hiding place, but you paid it little mind. Aemond lounged atop your rumpled bed sheets, occupying your space with an air of casual superiority as if he belonged there. 

His loosely draped clothing accentuated his figure, and you found it challenging to divert your gaze from the exposed expanse of his collarbones. The pale sheen of his skin contrasted starkly with the messiness of the room, momentarily captivating you and stealing your breath away. The atmosphere thrummed with an unspoken tension, drawing note to the uncharted territory between you.

“He-he touched me as if he did not tear my womanhood and make me bleed!” you exclaimed, a fresh wave of tears collecting at your dark lashes. “And you were there, uncle. You watched it happen. Do you not recall your promise made on a night such as this? Would you protect me from him so long as I was by your side? I am here before you.”

Aemond’s face was impassive, a blank stone carved with only his features. “You couple with your brother, and yet you are the one to lecture me? You’re a whore.”

You knew it was only a matter of time before he spoke about what he saw in the shadows, but having it brought to light did not ease the knot of shame within your stomach. 

“Whatever insults you have conjured up, know that I’ve already thought of them myself,” you braced, attempting to build a wall around your heart. Despite the difference in position, Aemond sitting in what would be a submissive manner, you felt like the lesser one, embracing your torso in self-consolation.

The Prince remained unnervingly quiet, his expression a hardened mask of arrogance. Shadows danced across his chiseled features as the dim light caught the high curve of his cheekbones and the sharp line of his jaw. He tilted his head slightly, allowing his moonlit hair to fall just enough to enhance his regal demeanor. A deep, resonant hum emerged from his throat, filling the air with a somber melody that seemed to echo the weight of unspoken thoughts. His eyes, usually filled with a fierce brightness, now held an undercurrent of fear—a fear that crept in like a shadow. He was aware that if he broke this silence, his voice might waver, revealing the regret that festered within him. 

Aemond feared you would hear the tremor of the boy he once was, the dragonless child who had craved approval and affection and still felt the sting of past failures. The thought of you seeing him in such a vulnerable light sent a shiver of apprehension through him, driving him to maintain his proud appearance. 

“I have been told since birth that Jace was to be my husband, yet now the foundations of my life have been uprooted because of one man’s ambitions,” you argued, feeling your body flush with anger instead of this dreadful sadness. “I feel like a fool for doing such things. I understood it was wrong at the time, yet this part of me was so bent on taking back something stolen from me. To prove to myself that sex was not about pain and control but something to enjoy.”

“All people succumb to sins of the flesh,” Aemond replied. It was a bland reply that showed little sympathy for you, but you expected nothing less from him. You were grateful enough that he hadn’t closed the conversation off so that only his wrath spoke.

Inhaling a stuttered breath, you wiped away the water that soaked your skin, a futile attempt at returning your dignity. “Men can fuck as they please without the stigma that surrounds women. If they fault and dabble with the flesh, it’s considered nothing more than their culture. When I am queen-”

“Aegon took me to a brothel when I was three and ten,” Aemond interrupted your tirade, causing you to pause with dissatisfaction, coloring your features. “He said, ‘Time to get it wet.’ I didn’t want to, but he paid the brothel Madame good coin, and I was forced to endure to show my brother that I was a man like him.” The fire within you softened, the tense muscles of your body deflating in empathy at his confession. “You are not the only one subjected to hypocrisy. I was supposed to enjoy it like a man, but all I felt was disgust.”

Perhaps it was the rich, intoxicating wine that Aemond had been consuming, or maybe the insidious notion that he held a threat over your head compelled him to confide in you. His revelations were not born out of genuine concern for you but reflected your insignificance in his eyes. 

That was the reason, nothing more.

He did not regard your thoughts or feelings as worthy of consideration. After all, a Prince of his stature would not be so vulnerable as to divulge his most profound shame to his illegitimate niece, expecting that with her bleeding heart, she would offer him understanding or solace. 

Aemond carried the weight of the pig incident like a brand upon his soul, an indelible memory that refused to fade. The sting of Aegon’s words lingered in his mind, a fresh wound that festered even after losing his eye to Lucerys, a brutal reminder of his vulnerability. 

The image of Aegon loomed ominously in his memories, particularly the night in the brothel, where the air was thick with the stench of spilled wine and sweat. Aegon’s skin glistened with an unappealing stickiness, the remnants of revelry clinging to him as he towered over Aemond, his posture a hazy blend of mockery and drunken arrogance. Beneath the veil of alcohol swirling in his veins, Aegon’s cruel laughter cut through the air, sharp and unforgiving, each word a fresh dagger aimed directly at Aemond’s heart. The echoes of that taunting laughter haunted him, a bitter reminder of the pain inflicted by the very brother who should have stood by his side.

“Ensure that you stay perfectly still, brother. We don’t want you to miss it.”

You exhaled slowly, a deep sigh laced with a sense of melancholy as a rush of emotions threatened to spill over. The fresh start of tears hovered beneath the surface, their warmth urging to escape, but you clenched your jaw and willed them to remain hidden, trapped within your mouth. 

Aemond sat before you, his expression hardened and his stance resolute. He did not welcome sympathy or pity. Those sentiments would isolate him further, pushing him deeper into his turmoil. What Aemond truly needed—more than any platitude about family values—was someone who could listen and sense the heavy shadows lurking behind his guarded words. He craved understanding, a connection that transcended judgment, a safe space to unburden his heart without fear of condemnation or lectures. At that moment, all he needed was an empathetic ear, ready to hear him amidst the chaos of his thoughts.

“Aegon is vile. A part of me hoped he would spare you from his cruelty, though I should have known. His mind is twisted and barbarous and holds no honor. You know this as I do,” you preached. 

The longing to embrace Aemond was overwhelming, a fierce yearning that coiled tightly within you, causing your fingers to flex and relax in a restless rhythm. You understood the delicate nature of his emotions, aware that a sudden move could send him retreating into the impenetrable and cold fortress he had constructed around his heart. With that thought in mind, you opted for a tentative approach, positioning yourself at a respectful distance on the plush feather mattress, allowing the space between you to serve as a shield and a bridge in this intricate dance of intimacy and caution. The softness of the mattress cradled your form, yet your heart raced with the desire to close that distance, to reach out and let him know how deeply you cared.

“Your mother spoke with me tonight. She wants me to return tomorrow with my mother and finally propose an engagement to unite our House.” You steadied your breath as you felt Aemond’s piercing, violet eye on you, his face turning into a mask. You could see his mind reeling at your proximity and your following words, trying to decipher what would come next.

“I owe my life to you for what you did for me. You stopped Aegon from debasing me further and became my friend despite how poorly I treated you,” your voice cracked with conviction as you reflected on the regrets of your childhood. “Accept this betrothal, and we will live out those childhood times again. You’ll be my husband and I, your wife, taking to the skies together like I promised. We will rule the Seven Kingdoms, and you will be king. Aegon will no longer hurt us.” 

Your words were like honey in his ear, dripping from the comb full of its viscous sweetness and into his blood. The tension within your stomach began to morph into something different, something warm yet exhilarating, as you saw fierce emotion crack through the lines of his face.

Courage filled you, rattling your bones and lifting your muscles to cup the side of Aemond’s scarred cheek as you softly stroked the indented skin. 

The surge of boldness that once ignited within you flickered and vanished, leaving a feeling of vulnerability that wrapped around you like a heavy cloak. Memories of the heartbreaking tragedies that life had heaped upon both of you flooded back, causing you to instinctively pull away, uneasy with the weight of it all. Yet, before you could fully retreat, Aemond’s hand closed around your wrist, his grip steady and unyielding, anchoring you to that fragile moment. 

Your breaths hung suspended in the air as you found yourself lost in his gaze, two souls suspended in time, teetering on the brink of understanding. It felt as though you could plunge deep into the shadows of his thoughts, unraveling the secrets he kept buried within. The silence stretched around you, thick with unspoken words, and a part of you was terrified to break it, fearing that doing so might shatter the delicate tranquility that had settled between you.

Time ceased to exist. It was only you and your uncle, two souls that had once been connected and torn asunder by hate that erupted long before your conception. You felt the gravity of the situation pulling you towards Aemond, and he, you, no longer seeing the world around you. The candlelight shade danced across the aquiline sculpture of his visage, creating a haunting beauty compared to the soft, cherubic plumpness of your face, round with conviction and moist with tears.

The moment couldn’t last long enough as you felt your knee collide with Aemond’s, sending a jolt through your core that made your breath hitch. The hand on your uncle’s ridged thigh clenched, fingers digging into his muscle as you observed how the tendons rippled with the movement, sending a wave of heat to your skin. You were certain Aemond felt the same, too, with his cheeks and ears tinged pink, tongue poking out to briefly wet his lip as his violet eye flicked to your swiftly rising and falling breasts.

Without warning, the doors to your bed chambers opened with a clang, revealing the Lady Edwina you had prayed for earlier. You did not want to pull away from him but knew the consequences of being caught in an improper position with a man. Aemond gave you no choice, curling his lip in dissatisfaction as he tightened his grip on your arm, refusing to let you remove the warmth of your touch on his face. 

It had been an eternity since he had felt the soothing warmth of a feminine embrace, a gesture that had become increasingly rare from his mother as the years had passed and he had grown older. The absence of that nurturing touch left a hollow ache in his heart. He craved the security and intimacy that such an embrace offered, and when you tried to pull away, he instinctively tightened his hold.

Edwina gasped with a quick “My Prince” as Aemond begrudgingly loosened his grip.

“Edwina, thank you for returning,” you said, voice cordial and gaze misty, “though I wish you would announce yourself.”

She curtsied, her cheeks scarlet. “Apologies, Your Highness.” 

Sighing, you glanced at Aemond, who had a dark expression, half thinking he should order the maid away or have her quartered for insolence. Sensing his vexation, you stood, placing a hand on your uncle’s sturdy shoulder, and offered a weak grin.

“All is forgiven. My uncle and I just finished discussing, didn’t we?” Aemond grunted in response, following your movements and brushing off your kind gesture. “Sleep well tonight, Prince Aemond. Know that my thoughts are with you.” 

He remained silent, his mask of the ruthless Prince falling perfectly back into place as he strode out of the room, leaving behind an oppressive air and not even a hint of a farewell. You sighed exasperated, rolling your eyes at the heavy doors as they swung shut with a resounding thud. Glancing over at your Lady, you caught her gaze, which held a deep, understanding glance that spoke volumes without the need for words. She surveyed your attire keenly before returning to her task of meticulously packing your belongings, her movements graceful yet methodical.

“Shall we summon the other maids?” Edwina asked with an airy shift in her tone that she acquired when in a jesting mood. She finally knew the answer as to who you so ardently sent ravens to in the Keep.

You offered a subtle nod, your gaze drifting to the elegant pitchers that adorned the polished writing table, each glinting softly in the dim light. With a graceful motion, you poured the deep crimson wine into a delicate glass, the rich aroma rising to meet you as it filled the vessel. The thought of leaving this stuffy gathering behind ignited a thrilling hope within you, quickening your heartbeat at the anticipation of returning to Aemond. The idea of being reunited with him filled you with an intoxicating sense of longing and excitement, making your pulse race with the promise of what was to come.

A profound sense of satisfaction enveloped Aemond as he walked through the torch-lit halls of the Keep. The flickering flames cast a warm glow, illuminating the intricacies of the stone walls that had witnessed countless secrets and whispered promises. The air was thick with the scent of burning resin and age-old timber, enhancing the atmosphere of history surrounding him. 

As he stepped into his chambers, a serene calm washed over him, slowly releasing the tension from his muscles as if he were shedding a burdensome weight. A curious sensation flickered within his chest, akin to the rush of emotions he had felt when he first kissed you all those years ago—a moment forever etched in his memory. A grin stretched his thin lips, a blend of nostalgia and anticipation brightening his features.

He envisioned a future where you would stand proudly by his side as his wife, the thought filling him with warmth. The image of your hands intertwined and the promise of building a family together painted a vivid picture in his mind. In that profound moment, he realized that the sacred ties of marriage would firmly anchor your loyalties, binding your fates together in a covenant that would weather any storm, ensuring that your heart would forever belong to Aemond.

Princess Rhaenyra’s only daughter would be his. 

Aegon’s ascension to the Iron Throne was inevitable, and he understood that accepting such a fact would put your new marriage to the test. The Prince convinced himself that in the end, you would love him and stay by his side, and that was enough for him to forget the vexation at his mother’s schemes and agree to the proposal. Mors Martell and Queen Nymeria, at last. 

Though the war had not yet begun, Aemond felt a sense of victory swelling within him.

Masterlist of Series

Spotify Playlist

The reader really couldn't catch a break in this chapter. It was literally one trauma after another. XD I've debated putting in some smut scenes with Jace and the reader in the previous chapters, but it never felt right. They've definitely done it quite a few times, tho. In my head, they've accidentally had a pregnancy scare like Rhaenyra did, and that was one of the turning points to separate them and send the reader to Dorne. Anyways, Aemond is at the beginning of his Prince Regent Era with his arrogance, but oh boy. The man won't know what hit him in the following chapters... (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp, @britt-mf, @marvelescvpe, @haikyuusboringassmanager, @discofairysworld , @lottiemsgf , @nessjo , @fiction-fanfic-reader , @qvnthesia , @hotvillianapologist , @p45510n4f4shi0n , @theendlessvoidofdarkest , @readerselegance , @gothamgurl2024 , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @vaylint , @ln8118 , @prettyduckling22 , @primroseluna , @baybaybear1

[trashytoastboi]

Day of Greed - Mammon

~NSFW Alphabet~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warning: NSFW content ahead (whole bunch of this and that)

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex?) 

💰 Mammon is the self proclaimed best and boy does he pamper you, you wouldn't even need to lift a finger and he’s got you covered. Hot towel, cold towel? He’s on it. Sore? Massages. Thirsty? Water, juice, a variety of other equally refreshing beverages. He’s a little overbearing with his care but he really means the best and just wants to make sure that you’re as comfortable as possible. You’d remind Mammon that sometimes you just want to snuggle and that’s enough. 

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partners.) 

💰 He loves everything and he cannot make a distinction for one or the other. Mammon loves, appreciates and worships all of you. Everything about you is perfect and his favourite. Your eyes whenever they look up at him, your nails digging into his back, your hips that he loves to hold onto. It feels like Mammon just wants to touch every part of you whenever the two of you are together. 

💰 On himself? His hands and mouth because he loves being able to touch and kiss you. 

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically) 

💰 With Mammon brain he prefers being able to cum inside you, or have you swallow. Makes him feel even closer to you in a strange way but who can really decipher this demon’s brain when it comes to stuff like this. Trust he was quite eager to learn about where his cum looked best on you, and would experiment by making sure to always cum somewhere different. He just thinks it’s the best when it’s leaking out of you or you swallowing it. He’s got an average amount with his loads, not that thick and pretty general taste. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs.)

💰 Mammon loves spending money, mostly on himself. Until he finds that he loves to pour it onto you. Buying toys, lingerie, outfits, jewelry. He doesn't see it as anything bad because it's the gift that keeps on giving. He's starting to coin some weird new phrase he calls a money kink. Of course, it's not just the act of spending money. It's enjoying the pay off that comes from it. Seeing you using all these lavish gifts he gave you. Sometimes without your knowledge. How, you ask? Well those toys were good for when he was away, maybe busy with modeling work and you got lonely. He could feel the burning of his pact mark whenever you thought about him, the amount of times he'd secretly watch you getting off. While laying in his bed, using the toys that he bought you and none the wiser that he was watching you right now. Mammon had to exert so much self control just to insure that he could hold himself back from appearing and fucking you senseless.

E = Experienced (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

💰 Has some experience from a few casual hook ups and he knows what he’s doing. Only appreciated his meager experience when it came to you because he knew enough of the basics to take the lead. Honestly felt like he was learning everything from scratch because he wanted to know what you like, what got you going, what would push you over the edge and so he basically forgot everything he knew to allow himself to learn your tastes.  

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

💰 Tabletop - I mean he loves fucking you on his pool table, and with how often he does you feel this position deserves to be mentioned. Drives Mammon crazy when you get needy and wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer. 

💰 Pressed up against a wall -  Mammon loves having you pressed up against a wall while he’s fucking you, makes sure you can’t run away from him. You have a tendency to move away from him whenever he overstimulates you too much but this position ensures that you can’t go anywhere. Just be good and let the great Mammon pleasure you.

💰 Lotus - Loves this position because of the intimacy it provides, holding you close and helping you move your hips while he’s kissing you and catching those pretty eyes looking at him with so much love and desire. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? Etc)

💰 He’s so silly in the best way. He’s not trying to make it goofy but he’s on cloud nine whenever he’s with you and he’s all smiles. It’s an infectious happiness. Sometimes he’d do something that makes you chuckle and he’ll stop to look at you asking what’s making you laugh.Trying to explain the way all his jewelry makes a sound every time he thrusts like a shaker only made him wear more and louder things. 

H =  Hair (How well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? Etc) 

💰 No consistent style really, sometimes he’s trimmed, other times he’s completely clean and sometimes he leaves it to get a little more natural. Certain shoots could have an impact too depending on the client, some might want him to be shirtless and no happy trail must be present, others prefer the look of them. Curtains match the drapes too. 

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect) 

💰 Romantic in intention and tries to show it through his actions. He always holds you close and will tell you how much he loves you, again and again. He’s kissing you, moaning into your mouth about how good you feel and holding you in some way. He needs you close, it’s rare that his hands aren’t holding onto you in some shape or form and Mammon needs a lot of kisses, his kisses are greedy and insistent they demand you, beg for you and you know you could never deny him. Not when he loves you that much. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation Headcanon)

💰 Surprisingly not the biggest fan of it, not when he’s got you. Will only do it when he can’t handle how hard he is, if it’s unbearable. He’s not ceremonious about it either. He’ll go somewhere private and take care of it. He’s so nonchalant about it to you’d think he’s bored (lowkey kinda is) Mammon always compares it to how he feels when he’s with you and it doesn’t measure up. 

K = Kink (One or more of the kinks)

💰 Praise kink - Call him a good boy and Mammon will be complete putty in your hands. He just wants you to praise him, tell him he’s doing a good job. He’ll literally beg you to praise him, giving you those sad puppy eyes that just want a compliment or two. Goes a little bit of a second way because he loves complimenting you, in everyday life and during the more intimate moments together. 

💰 Overstimulation - He’s greedy, he can’t stop after the first time you cum. It just sets something off in him, he needs more. Mammon needs to watch you losing your mind, watch you cum on his fingers, his tongue, his cock. He’ll beg for one more, just one more (it’s never just one more) Has you all dazed, thinking you’re about to faint and so painfully sensitive as he just wants to give him more. 

💰 Biting - He’s always giving you little love bites, marking you up so everyone knows that you’re his. Gets all pouty when you cover them up. Never bites you hard enough to hurt badly but enough to leave marks, loves biting your neck or shoulders while he’s cumming. Always making sure that there’s a prominent one on your inner thigh and he’ll give you a new one when it heals. 

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

💰 His bedroom - Preferably bent over his pool table, or he’ll fuck you on his couch, or in his bed. I mean the floor is an option too- that wall over there looks inviting. (Honestly he’s had you on about every possible inch of his bedroom…Even the ceiling…) 

💰 Not opposed to public ventures - He’s not super risky about it though, (I mean aside from the obvious) will only really initiate if he knows there’s a very low risk of actually getting caught. Can’t risk having anyone else see how pretty his partner is all for him. 

💰 There’s a specific closet in RAD that’s become something of Mammon’s secret hangout and it’s where he bunks classes, also where he’s pulled you in for a little quality time before.  

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going?)

💰 Basically anytime he watches you being a badass, doesn’t know why it just turns him on. Likes when you kiss him and get all heated and desperate. The way your kisses grow sloppier, deeper and more urgent for him. Mammon loves feeling like YOU want him and there’s no greater turn on than being wanted by you. (Also if you tug on his hair while kissing him) He’s open about what you do to him and now knowing that, you still do those things knowing it will turn him on. 

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

💰 Sharing/threesomes/exhibitonism - He’s literally incapable of sharing you with someone else. His greed could never allow it. Or having others see you in a way only he can. Yeah you’ve taken a few photos and videos together, you can rest assured no one else will ever see them because those are Mammon’s guilty pleasures and you’re pretty ‘nd stuff that he can’t allow others to catch on because they’re definitely gonna fall in love with you. 

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

💰 He isn’t called the great Mammon for nothing. He’ll never admit all the research and times he practiced against his hand to make sure he had the technique down. He just would pretend to naturally be that great at it while driving you crazy, having you cumming non stop while doing all those insane things with his tongue. His fingers would dig into your hips, hold you in place until he was satisfied. Mammon likes receiving too, especially when you surprise him out of the blue and just go straight for the prize. He likes seeing how greedy you get, trying to stuff all of his cock into your mouth when it’s clearly too much but you’re still trying and taking him like a champ. 

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc) 

💰 Slow, sensual and hard. He has a tendency for those hard thrusts that make your entire body jolt, and then drag out with the slowest pull feeling everything inside and then another hard thrust in. He’d be kissing you, listening to how you gasp every time he slams against you, bottoming out and just being so so deep it feels like it’s knocking the air out of you. Can be fast and rough if he’s desperate enough or pressed for time.  

Q = Quickie (They opinions on quickies, how often etc)

💰 We’ve established the existence of his secret hideout in RAD, best believe it’s a popular quickie spot for the two of you. Mammon never fails to impress and makes quick work of you and himself. Thinks quickies are the literal best thing when he doesn’t have a lot of time but needs a little recharge on his person. Love how much you seem to enjoy them too. (You’re adorable) Go to position for quickies is having you sitting on top of a surface or bent over it. It’s what he’s best at. 

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? Etc)

💰 He’s game to take risks and try out new things especially with you. It may end up being something the two of you really like, or hate and that’s okay. You’ll laugh about the fact it was terrible. Mammon is eager and adventurous which makes for fun experimentation. Things he learned he liked included spanking and bondage. “Hated” edging, only because it was you edging him and you kept telling him he was a good boy even while you denied and ruined his orgasms for hours.  

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

💰 Got a lot of rounds in him, you accredit his stamina to his work, running (away from Lucifer) and partying. A deadly combo that gave him so much excessive stamina. Doesn’t need to work out all the excessive energy though and will usually stop when you’re tired. As for the rounds he’s got pretty average time for individual rounds (you’re honestly thankful the multiple rounds are enough to already push you to the limit physically.) 

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or on themselves?)

���� He doesn't have any toys himself but he’s bought you A LOT. Loves seeing you using them and enjoys using them on you. It enhances the experience and makes things fun. He’s a little evil about it, he’ll be chuckling asking what’s wrong when you’re trying to force his hand away while he’s borderline torturing you with the vibrator on your sensitive spots and has you whining. You did convince him to try cock rings though, especially the vibrating ones (little bit of revenge) 

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease?)

💰 He teases a lot, gets you all riled up and then just a little more. He loves the slow build up, it’s not to the point of denial but he knows how to pace himself for foreplay and after your first orgasm then it’s non stop, that’s when he gets serious about things. His teasing is just giving you everything except his dick- got you all fucked out before he’s even put it in. 

V = Volume (How loud they are? What sounds they make? Etc)

💰 Moans, groans and curses a lot. He curses so much, his vocabulary gets a little limited when he’s in pleasure brain mode and his friend downstairs is doing all the thinking for him. You think he’s got some of the sexiest moans you’ve heard and when he’s biting, marking you all up and he groans in bliss at seeing his marks and your expression. He can get loud if he makes no attempt to keep it down (another reason he sinks his teeth into you while cumming, mostly to prevent himself from getting too loud) 

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character?)

💰 He’s a switch. Mammon has equally dominating and submissive tendencies in the bedroom. He’s not dead set on having you always being the one to submit to him, and if you take the lead he’s happy to follow. He’s good at reading the room and will act depending on what he’s reading, some days you want to be taken care of and just want to fall a little into sub space and he’ll take care of you during then. He’s definitely a pleasure dom and service sub.  

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes?)

💰Human form: Dark bulbous tip, thick and girthy from the head to middle and narrows out at the base, a little longer than average. It’s a stretch every time he pushes in. 

💰 Demon form: Maybe a little ironic that he swells at the base, and gets longer, shape alters a bit and you were pleasantly surprised. Call it a bonus, the first time he came in you in demon form- his dick swells, not at all like knotting, it’s the entirety just swells enough for you to notice it. 

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

💰 Average and high - His yearning for sex is normal but his yearning for YOU... Permanent all time high. Sometimes it gets a little confused and you’d think he’s permanently turned on and ready to go but he just wants to be close to you and smother you in hugs, kisses and maybe something else. If you weren’t around, it would be a desire for you he’d be feeling not so much the physical urge of sex. His drive is 90% because of you. 

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards?)

💰 He’s still willing to go out and party afterwards, stay in and watch movies with you or something. He doesn’t feel the instant tug of sleep even if it did last hours, unless he’s intentionally trying to fall asleep he probably won’t just fall asleep with the exception being he was exhausted beforehand. 

Taglist: @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf

[eldizzle69]

“To Disappear From Here”

part one | two | three | four | five | six | seven

including :: sinostra

SINOSTRA

—taiga hoshibami

your last moments together

The familiar sound of cards shuffling filled your ears. A sound you had grown accustomed to ever since you were dubbed Taiga’s “lucky kitty-cat”.

But this particular day, you couldn’t help but hold Taig closer, snuggle closer into his lap as he gambled his day away. He seemed none the wiser to your inner turmoil.

For the first time, you think you were great full for his memory issues. You were happy that, in approximately two weeks time, he would hopefully forget you ever existed. You were great full he wouldn’t be hurt.

Not that you think Taiga was capable of feeling that way over you anyways.

How could he form any feels for you if he could barely remember who you were? Either way you’d like to think that, if he could remember you, that he’d miss you.

The familiar sound of Taiga’s laughter filled her ears, as his body shook slightly from the laughter. He began to spout about his luck but all you could do was smile.

Smile and pretend everything wasn’t going to fall apart soon

after it’s all over

Taiga went through a lot of his recent life being confused. His memory loss was something he was well aware of, but never cared too much about. It was irrelevant when he remembered important things at least.

So who were you?

Who was this person who wrote him such a heartfelt letter? Taiga wasn’t an affectionate person, the cruel world made sure of that. So how could someone claim to care for him? How could someone look past all his sins?

Plopping down on the couch in his room that was far too expensive, he looked down at the letter in his hands. Bothered.

Unlike his usual self, he wanted to know who you were. He wanted to see who you were and ask why you thought to caring for him did you any good.

But no matter how much he racked his brain, no matter how hard he thought. He couldn’t remember a single thing about you.

He let out a small laugh, one different from his usual one. No longer filled with amusement his laugh gave off a frustrated air to it.

Was his fate to keep missing someone he couldn’t remember?

—romeo lucci

your last moments together

There was no denying that the days you spent at Darkwick had worn you down. The stress and struggle for survival was one thing, but the constant jabs and words slowly ticked away at your confidence.

The worst part? Romeo hated seeing you like this. The same Romeo who was a big part of the reason. His sharp words never stopped, and they only got worse when he realized you were down.

“What could you possibly be afraid of?” He had said one day when you were doing him a favor and attended some sort of event with him, “ You’re one of my people! Walk with you head held high or I’ll step on it!” The threat followed what you thought was a heartfelt conversation for once.

Faintly, you caught scent of his cologne. It was a sweet smell that you couldn’t help but feel comforted by. A sweet smell you wish you could enjoy just a little longer.

But a little longer would lead to you wanting more time, and you knew you didn’t have it.

after it’s all over

The smell of expensive cologne hung in Romeo’s nose. The same cologne he had worn the day he convinced you to go to an event with him. The same cologne he had worn the very last time he was able to see you.

“Don’t drop that!” He hissed at his henchmen, who were clearly holding more bags than they could carry. But Romeo wasn’t done.

In and out of different designer stores he walked, trying to get rid the heavy feeling lingering in his heart. He knew it was useless. He knew that no matter how much he bought, you’d never receive any of it.

He missed his chance to spoil you while you were here. He had missed every opportunity to cherish you, and you obviously ment more to him than he’d like to admit.

Maybe he could make up for it, maybe he could keep buying things he thought would look good on you. Of course they would look good on you HE picked them out.

But I guess we’ll never know now, will we?

—ritsu shinjo

your last moments together

The clock was slowly ticking by, second by second you scribbled down on the documents in front of you. Finally coming to the last page in front of you you let out a deep sigh. Everything had been settled and things were finally in place.

“I just finished checking my recordings from today. You sighed a total of four times—is there something troubling you?” Ritsu’s voice cut thorough the piercing the silence laid thickly in the room. Looking up at him you thought back to the agreement you had blade with him, you thought of what being his business partner actually meant.

“Honestly, I was thinking of coming to see you…” you admitted though you already regretted it. Ritual seemed to light up ever so slightly with a small smile making its way onto his face. “Was it something with legal work? I’m sure you are aware of my fees and-"

“Ritsu will you write me a will?" you said it so calmly, with such a smile it put Ritsu off for the moment. You smiled so sweetly, while asking such as task of him. But, as a paralegal he replied with..

"Of course."

after it’s all over

When Ritsu could predict things there was no need to get surprised. He had long been away of your curse, and that one day you might not be here with him. And at the moment it hadn’t bothered him as much. He had lived before you, and he would live after you.

…..so why did it hurt so much? This was something his father hadn’t taught him. He didn’t know what he as feeling or why he was feeling it. You were just a person, a person he didn’t know for long. So why did he feel so off writing your will? And why did his chest hurt when he thought about you?

Slipping his suitcase open he glanced into the neatly organized space, a sole letter taunted him as he looked down at it. His name scribbled on the front of the envelope, inviting him to open it. Inviting him to read your last words.

But instead of taking the crisp paper into his hands he closed his suitcase. He took a shower, changed his clothes, brushed his teeth, and tried to get some sort of normality out of the atmosphere. He tried to pretend everything was normal.

The question was, how long can he pretend before his feelings boil over?

[thornsnvultures]

everything I want...

bucky barnes x plus size!avenger!reader

summary: being sent on a mission with bucky should be a piece of cake, but he's been acting strange around you for weeks now and you have no clue why.

cw: SMUT, fingering, oral sex (fem rec), shower sex, p in v sex (unprotected), creampie, breath play, breeding kink, pregnancy/lactation kink (very little), possessive pervy bucky (he gets a bit feral in this one), solo masturbation mention (m), steve rogers meddling being a great wingman, angst with a happy ending, 4.4k words

a/n: my entry for the lovely @nickfowlerrr 's seven deadly sins event 🖤 Lust is the sin I chose for this fic and really it was an excuse to write filth lol I really hope you enjoy it! (and a quick thanks to everyone who encouraged me to keep going, this fic wouldn't be here without you)

18+ MINORS DNI

-----

"You'll be with Barnes for this mission. Get in, get out, no big deal. We've done this before and it doesn't look like it'll be much of a problem."

Steve smiles politely at you as he hands you the briefing folder with all the info on where you'll be going and why.

"If it's so easy why doesn't Barnes go alone?"

You regret opening your mouth as soon as the words come out, choosing to bite your lip and open the folder instead of looking at Steve's patented Look of Disapproval.

"Be ready and on the jet in two hours," Steve sighs.

"Yes, Captain."

Steve marches out of the room, always moving like a man on a mission even when he's not on one. No, this one's just you and Bucky. The man who's been avoiding you like the plague the last few weeks. Someone who you thought was at least a friendly acquaintance, a close colleague maybe.

He went from joking with you on the jet and bringing you coffee when he got one for himself from the canteen, to not even looking at you. Like even daring to lift his head when you walked by would get him booted from the team and sent back to Hydra.

You wouldn't say the two of you were close, but being a part of this team, working with these people; it was hard making friends with people who didn't understand, who didn't live on the compound. Sure there were SHIELD agents you saw here and there at the gym or around medical or the offices. But you saw Bucky damn near every day since you joined the team. And now out of the blue he was pretending like you didn't exist.

It didn't help that you had a not so teeny tiny crush on the man either.

Maybe this mission was a peace offering, Steve's way of getting the two of you to rebuild, reconnect. For the betterment of the team...or whatever. The sooner you got it done, the sooner you could get home and get away; from Bucky and from your own hurt feelings.

-----

Steve was right, the mission didn't take long at all. You were able to get in and get out with the information you needed with little to no fuss. Barnes was the perfect partner to watch your six with the way he was avoiding you and it totally didn't bother you that he hadn't said a word to you outside of what was strictly necessary. Totally.

When you got back to the hotel, Bucky got on the phone with Steve right away, still avoiding. He did need to call Steve to debrief, but he wasn't even saying much, just standing there with the phone to his ear, grunting every now and then.

Frustrated, you sat on the edge of the bed and pulled of your boots. Bucky was facing the window, looking over the city. The hotel room was modest, but modest for Tony Stark's standards was still luxurious and you wanted to take advantage of the shower that was practically the size of your bedroom back home before you guys left. You weren't waiting for Bucky to shower first.

"I'm taking a shower," you called out. Bucky made a noise but didn't turn around. His back muscles shifted against the tight black tshirt he wore when he shrugged at something Steve must've said over the phone. You couldn't hear what they were discussing but you could sense Bucky's tension from across the room. From the way he looked you'd think the mission was a failure, that he was reporting back with terrible news even though you know everything went well. Your fingers itched to rub soothing circles over his back, ease some of that tension away...

Shower, think of the shower. He doesn't deserve it.

Once you figured out which knobs controlled which of the four differently angled shower heads, you hopped in. Your clothes lay discarded on the sink as steam filled the room. It was heavenly. You'd have to ask Tony about installing a system like this in your apartment.

As you soaped up with the hotel body wash, your mind started to wander to the same person it always seemed to these days.

Part of why Bucky's sudden rejection was so painful was how much you'd grown to care about him. It felt silly, having a crush like this at your grown ass age, but that's what it was. Your stomach fluttering, your heart racing. You hoped he didn't know just how much he affected you every time he brought you coffee or talked to you or sat near you in a meeting.

Maybe that's why he's been avoiding you, maybe he caught on and...he doesn't feel the same way. Maybe he's trying to put distance between the two of you so you'd get the hint.

God, how embarrassing. You stand there with your hands on your chest, over your breaking heart, and try to hold it together instead of blabbering like a baby.

Of course he doesn't want you. He's a super soldier, practically a God. And he's been through so much. He's not the type to want a...girlfriend right now, especially someone on the team.

Suds drip from your breasts as you try to finish your shower, bending over to scrub your feet while you try not to cry. It's silly, silly and stupid. But you were hoping that even if he didn't like you that way, that you wouldn't lose a friend too.

The thought of him never speaking to you again makes a tear finally fight its way free and you choke out a sob as it falls down your cheek. You hope the pounding water is enough to mask your choking sobs but who knows. Your emotions are all over the place. You can't seem to stop crying and you're angry. Angry at Steve for putting you on this mission, angry at your tears and angry that Bucky might be totally lost to you.

-----

Bucky can smell you.

He stands by the hotel window, holding the bridge of his nose like that'll make it stop. It never does. You're always there, invading his senses. Not just your body wash or the shampoo you use, or the heavy floral stuff the hotel has stocked up in the bathroom. He's trying not to imagine you using the individually wrapped bars of soap to lather yourself up not twenty feet away from him, but just like his hand on his nose, nothing helps.

No, even under all the artificial stuff, it's you that drives his senses wild. Something encoded in your goddamn DNA that fries his brain.

It took him a while to figure out what it was that made it hard to be around you. He could ignore it at first, when you first joined the team. He was still fresh himself, finally coming back to be a do-gooder with Steve and the team after talking time to heal and scrape away what was left of Hydra's programming. There wasn't time to acknowledge the way his dick twitched every time you entered the room. It wasn't appropriate. And Steve would kick his ass for chatting up the newcomer anyway.

But as the weeks and months drew on, as he found himself getting more comfortable, more used to a routine that always seemed to revolve around you, he couldn't ignore it.

He felt like a dog in heat. Most of the time he could manage it, but there were days out of every month where he'd scramble for the nearest bathroom, broom closet, empty meeting room, anything after being with you for even five minutes so he could relieve himself. Biting his lip until he bled to keep from cursing your name as he worked his fist over his cock until there was nothing left.

It was maddening, the shift in your scent. He craved you constantly, but those times when his needs couldn't be ignored he felt out of control. Like he was a snap of your fingers away from becoming him again.

It wasn't until you left your phone unattended in the compound gym that things started to make sense.

You had been chatting on the treadmill with a SHIELD agent. Bucky pretended to be focused on his workout while he listened in to your conversation. Your agent friend was talking about her and her partner trying for a baby so you recommended a period tracker app that you had been using for a while.

"It's great! After you've been using it for a few months it can predict when you'll be ovulating for max baby making potential."

Your friend laughed at the saucy tone in your voice, Bucky nearly dropped the massive dumbell he was curling on his foot. Images of you, breasts heavy and leaking, swollen and pregnant with his child was all he could see. And fuck him, he wanted it, needed it, craved it.

So when your friend was gone and you hopped off the treadmill momentarily in search of your water bottle, leaving your phone behind, Bucky took his chance to sneak a quick look.

It was all right there. He remembers the last day he could smell you so strongly he could barely stand it. He almost got caught in the gym showers, slamming a crack into the tile wall when he came so hard his vision went black with the scent of you burned in his brain. He didn't see you for two days after that but when he did there was a coppery edge to your scent. And the app on your phone proved it.

You were ovulating. Your body was practically screaming for him, demanding that he do what he was made to do and breed your sweet cunt. His need to rut into you, to bury himself deep and pump you full of his cum over and over, no matter how long it took until it sticks, finally made sense.

Bucky already knew he cared for you, but he didn't want to scare you, overwhelm you. He wanted to do right by you, take you on dates, show you how special you are to him. But this feral need to claim you wasn't stopping any time soon either. Maybe, he thought, he should give you some space. Give whatever this feeling was done distance and it would calm down. Then...then he could tell you how he felt. He needed to clear your scent from his mind before he was trapped in a constant state of relieving himself by his own hand month after month, wasting what belonged to you in tissues and shower drains.

-----

So he stayed away, for an entire month at that, before Steve got sick of his shit excuses and put the two of you on this mission together.

"Whatever's going on with you two, you need to work it out. We're not in forth grade any more, Buck, you can't pretend a girl has cooties just cause you feel weird about liking her."

Bucky tensed as he heard her boots fall to the floor behind him.

"I don't-"

"Don't bullshit me, Bucky."

"Language," Bucky's lip quirked, almost a smile.

"I'm taking a shower," you called from the other side of the room. Bucky grunted, not trusting himself to say anything more. He could feel your eyes on him.

"Just talk to her. I know what you're gonna say, she deserves better than a jerk like you. But she doesn't deserve the cold shoulder."

Bucky shrugged, forgetting that Steve couldn't see him. He heard the bathroom door click shut and his forehead dropped against the window.

"You don't get it, Steve. She's different. I can't control myself around her. I'm hanging on by a thread here."

Steve sighs and says something else but Bucky barely hears it over the sound of running water and your clothes hitting the floor. 

"Bucky, you there?"

Shit.

"Sorry, I should...I gotta go."

"She likes you too, idiot." A part of him knew but hearing it out loud felt surreal. "I got the same senses you do. Better even," Bucky shakes his head at Steve's teasing, "I can hear her pulse pick up when she looks at you, how her breathing changes. How she sits close to you, touches you whenever she can."

Bucky shivers thinking of your hands on him, pulling him into your shower with you, letting him get close enough to touch you the way he's dying to touch you.

"And you know I can smell how wet she gets when y-"

"Watch it, Rogers," Bucky snaps with a growl in his throat.

"Then get your shit together, Barnes! She wants you too, you're not gonna scare her off."

Bucky wants to tell Steve he doesn't have any idea what he's talking about when he hears what sounds like crying coming from the bathroom. 

"Alright, if you're done playing matchmaker I gotta go."

Bucky hangs up before Steve can say another word and tosses his phone on the bed. Before he can think better of it his boots are off and he's pulling his shirt up and over his head. His heart is being torn to shreds with every sob that shudders through thin walls and he has the sinking feeling that it's all his fault.

-----

You don't hear the bathroom door open, but you feel the rush of cool air hitting your back. Before you can wipe away your tears and yell at Bucky for coming in before you were finished, he's right there. His hands grip your waist and turn you around.

"Bucky.

"Shh, I've got you."

He pulls you in, crushing you to his bare chest in a fierce hug. You don't know what's happening or why but he's here. Finally he's here and you're not gonna do a thing to stop it.

Your face is still wet with tears when he kisses you, consumes you, more like. His lips, teeth, tongue invading your mouth and begging you to open up and let him take all of you. You're shaking when he lets you go long enough to breathe, but his hands don't let you go, only wrapping around tighter and lifting you up against his broad chest when he feels your legs go weak.

It's everything you've every dreamed of, there's no way it's real. He's naked for fuck's sake. You can see his discarded jeans on the floor by the door, feel the evidence of his nudity pressing long and thick against your thigh.

His lips work down the length of your neck, down your chest, to suck a puckered, soapy nipple into his mouth. He's looking up at you with those murky blue eyes and your mind goes blank. You don't care why he chose now of all times to see you, to touch you, as long as he doesn't stop, as long as he keeps sucking and licking and biting you just like that. And you really must've hit your head because, fuck, you're already this close to coming and that's never happened before.

Your thighs press together, searching for any kind of friction, as you tug on Bucky's hair. When you pull, his eyes roll back. He groans, the noise shooting straight to your pussy.

Still holding you up with one hand, Bucky bullies your thighs apart with the other, spreading you open and on your tip toes so he can slide his fingers over your cunt. Two thick digits slip between your folds and shove into your cunt. You gasp, writhing around his fingers. It's too much, you feel so fucking full you can barely stand it. But Bucky keeps working his fingers, scissoring them, spreading them deep as he pumps them in and out. Your nails scrape against his skin, scrambling across his broad shoulders to find purchase as he brings you careening fast over the edge until you're plummeting, screaming his name as you spasm around his fingers.

He pulls his fingers away and you watch, dazed and panting as he sucks them clean. The way he moans around his fingers nearly has you coming again.

"Bucky, please," you don't know what you're asking for but you don't care. You'll gladly take anything he gives you.

"Need more," he groans, his eyes glazed. "Can I have more, angel?"

You're nodding wildly as he sits you down on the shower bench. Hot water rains down on his back and he's lifting your feet up on the bench so he can keep you spread wide open. His big hands clamp down on your thighs and it would be almost painful if you weren't distracted by the way his mouth latched onto your clit.

"Fuck! Bucky, oh my god," there wasn't any stopping your rambling, begging, pleading. It was too much, too good. Bucky's moans vibrated to your core. He feasted on you like you were his last meal, licking every drop of your juices, sucking each fold before fucking into you with his tongue.

You could think, talk, breathe. All you knew was Bucky's touch as he made you come again. Your legs shook and your back arched and it went on for what felt like forever, this mind blowing pleasure that you almost didn't feel worthy of. That he looked up at you as he cleaned you up with his tongue like you were everything to him in this moment made your eyes well up again for being so emotional.

A look of worry wrinkles Bucky's brow. 

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

With a shaky hand you brushed back an errant hair from his forehead and caressed his cheek. "No, I'm fine. Sorry, I just get emotional like this before, y'know..." You didn't want say it, especially not to a guy you liked right after he ate you out. It was hard to look at him still sitting there between your legs, your face feeling hotter by the second.

"You mean before your period?"

You sputtered and tried to close your legs. No way, there's no way you're talking about your period with your dream man with your legs spread open like he's your gyno.

"Don't hide from me," Bucky growled. You watched, your jaw dropping, as he nuzzled his nose into your mound at the apex of your sex and breathed in deep, filling his lungs with your scent.

"How did you know?"

"Your phone, you left it open at the gym." Bucky doesn't stop kissing your mound, your belly. It's like he's a cat and you're the catnip. "And I can smell it on you. Your scent changes, gets...deeper somehow. Like you're calling to me."

Suddenly he's lifting you up and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist with a shout of surprise. Bucky grabs one of the giant hotel towels on his way out of the bathroom, carrying you like it's nothing. It is for him, but it's jarring. You always forget that he's not just some guy. Like the fact that his enhanced senses don't just include hearing and sight. Of fucking course he can scent you like a bloodhound.

Bucky lays out the big, fluffy towel and drops you on it, watching with hunger in his eyes as you jiggle when your body bounces on the mattress. You want to cover yourself with your arms and squeeze your legs shut, but you hear his voice in your head. 

"Don't hide from me."

Bucky crawls on top of you, his thick arms and broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the room. It's just him and you and this bed. And between you his cock pushes thick and needy against your weeping cunt. His hips twitch as he kisses you, lightly rubbing the thick vein running down his cock through your folds.

"Please, Bucky," you whine against his lips.

His forehead rests against yours briefly before he sits back on his heels. Bucky's heavy-lidded gaze is hungry, staring at the way your cream coats his cock.

"Please don't tease me, Bucky," your plea comes out shaky and unsure. "I can't take it."

Bucky caresses your cheek, tugs at your bottom lip with his thumb.

"If you let me in, I don't think I'll ever leave."

Your brows pinch, your heart hammers away in your throat. You get the feeling he doesn't just mean in the physical sense.

"I don't want you to leave."

Bucky's eyes shut and his jaw clenches and you reach for him. To take his face in your hands so you can pull him close and look into those beautiful blue eyes when he finally thrusts inside. And he lets you.

You hold him in your hands as his whole body shakes. You've never felt so full, so complete, but you need more. If only he'd move, you need him to move.

"Bucky-"

The growl that explodes from deep in Bucky's chest is the only warning you get before he pulls back, nearly all the way out, and slams back in. The force of it shoves the air from your lungs and you can scarcely catch your breath before he does it again and again, picking up pace until he's hammering into you, pounding you into the mattress. His groin grinds against your pelvis with every deep thrust, the thatch of hair there teasing your clit.

Bucky takes you by the throat, tenderly at first, saying, "Look at me. Don't look away, beautiful, keep those eyes open."

It's a struggle but those blue eyes ground you as your mind tries to float away. You don't know what sounds you're making, what you're even saying but Bucky shushes you, tells you he's got you, you're his.

"My pussy. Mine to fill up, right, beautiful? All mine."

You nod your head as best you can with his fingers on your jaw, babbling nonsense. He doesn't slow or stop, that super-soldier stamina helping him keep a brutal pace.

Bucky grabs your right thigh, turning it over so it's on top of your left and holding it there with the hand not on your throat. Your eyes roll back at the way the new position has him grinding against your inner walls. You thought you felt full before, but this is something else entirely.

Your hands fly up to Bucky's forearm, desperate for a part of him to hold on to as he looms over you, taking what belongs to him. His hand on the meat of your thigh tightens as he grunts and groans and you grip at the hand on your throat, silently begging for his gentle hold to tighten too.

His eyes soften, as he shifts his hand and squeezes. This man could end you right here, right now, with a twitch of his finger but he's looking at you like you're delicate, so fucking delicate and it doesn't make any sense. Your brain is fried, everything feels like too much and just right at the same time. Like you're meant to be here under him, full of him, taking everything he gives you.

"God, you're so beautiful."

Your legs shake under his grip and you feel yourself implode. His words ricochet around your head as you come, coating his cock, and the sheets, with your release.

Bucky's grip on your throat loosens and he collapses on top of you, capturing your lips with his, cradling his arms around you. His full weight on top of your twisted, bent body is a welcome pressure. You never want him to leave.

"Mine," he growls again. "Gotta fill you up, breed this sweet little cunt so everyone knows you're mine. I can't hold back anymore. Say it. Say you're mine."

"I'm yours, Bucky," you cry, "all yours. Only yours."

Bucky lifts your right leg up over his shoulder, spreading you wide open. He brings his thick fingers down on your messy cunt with a wet slap and you cry out, shaking as you come again.

"That's it, beautiful. Milk me fucking dry."

Bucky's hips stutter and go still and he shouts, spilling inside you, filling you to the brim.

Bucky lets your leg fall from his shoulder and collapses on top of you. Before he can suffocate you, not that you'd mind, he rolls the two of you onto your side and holds you tight to his chest. You can feel his release slipping out, oozing down your thigh. There's so much, you don't even want to think about the clean up. Not now, not when it's so much easier to think about how good it feels to be here, in his arms.

"You're mine," Bucky whispers into your hair, taking a heavy breath, filling his lungs with your scent. 

"All yours," you smile, your cheek pressing against his solid chest.

"I mean it. Not just here, not just tonight. I want to make you mine, angel."

Bucky sounds so serious it almost worries you. You turn your head where it rests on his bicep, trying to not get distracted by how big it is. Those blue eyes of his are soft but searching your face, like he needs you to understand, to know that he means it.

"I want that, Bucky. I want it so bad."

Your voice is quiet but you know he can hear you loud and clear, can hear the desperation in his voice mirrored back in yours.

His big hands roam your body, caressing your breast, your hips, like he wants to touch you everywhere all at once. You help him settle on a place by lifting your leg and curling it over his hip. You can see it on Bucky's face, how much he needs you. The way your combined scents make his nostrils flare, the tightening of his jaw. His fingers leave your hip and delve between the juncture of your thighs, a groan rumbling through his chest.

"Bucky," you pant as his fingers play in the mess he made, slipping in and out of your cunt.

He kisses your forehead, continuing to work you open once again.

"Need to have you again, angel." Bucky doesn't wait for you to respond before he's guiding himself in til you're full to bursting. "Gotta keep you stuffed full, baby."

You shudder at his words, his hands roaming your body.

"I'm yours, Bucky. All yours."

---

--

-

🖤

[minetro]

Logging Into Your Heart

masterlist \\ <- prev \\ next ->

kinich x fem!reader

word count: 2.1k words

warnings: none

summary: A series of unfortunate events leads to... a blessing in disguise?!

note: to be honest I struggle a bit when writing plot that's meant to be silly and sorta comedic like this. A part of me wants to hurry up and reach the more mellow and angst-y parts, but I'll treat this as training for potential future silly stories. I had to sacrifice the header(?) that I usually use for this series cause I reached the image limit, whoops. Nonetheless, I hope you'll enjoy!

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

chapter I: what's cookin', good lookin'?

There was a pause, an unusually long pause. So long in fact, that you started to sweat a little. Did you somehow say something wrong? Did he find this topic boring? He probably does, doesn't he? Why would anyone wanna hear about some measly university “crush” anyway? Big emphasis on the quotations for crush by the way, you were fairly certain this was barely a real “crush”. You preferred to call it a short-term infatuation due to the boring circumstance that is your life, yeah, that feels right.

You continued to eye down the foreboding “K is typing…” as if it were mocking your worry. What the hell could this guy be typing about that is so revolutionary? Is he writing an essay? When he had finally sent his message, you let out a short breath that you had not even noticed you’d been holding.

“Five more minutes…,” You grumbled into your pillow at the jarring call of your alarm clock. Nuzzling yourself further into the delicate fabric of your dangerously soft and comforting blanket. “Five more minutes…,” You grumbled into your pillow at the jarring call of your alarm clock. Nuzzling yourself further into the delicate fabric of your dangerously soft and comforting blanket.

Sleeping in just a little bit couldn’t hurt, right? You had thought. No, the mischievous ploys that the sleep demons had connived into your ear promising a dream with fields of fragrant crimson roses did not mention the thorns that would prick you in the back afterward. But, surely it wouldn’t be that big a deal. What was the harm in a few minutes? Oh. You gullible thing. That demonic beast had planted one of the teachings of the seven deadly sins into your head, Sloth, and you welcomed it with open, unsuspecting arms.

Wind pelted against your face, hair getting entangled together at the sheer force of the air. Your legs were excruciatingly sore, but there’s absolutely no time to think about that right now. Sweat painted your forehead, your face now a disheveled mess. 

Shit. Shit. SHIT.

You were huffing and puffing, when was the last time you sprinted this hard? Oh, you're gonna have a bad muscle cramp for days after this, you could feel it in your bones, they were screaming at you in agony, actually. But for now, the adrenaline pumping through your veins were enough to keep you going and ignore the screeches of your muscles burning in this strenuous hell. 

After what felt like decades, the door to your classroom was finally within sight. You pushed the last bit of strength you had left in you and– accidentally banged the door open against the wall accompanied with your huge gasp for air. 

Everyone’s eyes turned to you, some confused, some annoyed, some with a completely blank stare.

Great! Maybe if you had any more willpower left in you, this would’ve been enough of an ordeal to have you run straight out the window to fall to your demise. But alas, your life was saved by your fragile athleticism.

Scanning around the room, a shocking realization dawned on you. The last bit of colour dripped down your cheek. All the seats had been taken. All, except one. When your eyes caught sight of who exactly you’d have to sit next to, your pupils shook and your breath halted. No. Oh, no. You would have to sit next to him, next to the pretty boy you’ve used as eye candy during class time. He peered at you with a monotonous expression. Oh my god. He hates you. He wants you dead, right here, right now. Was it too late to take up on that previous offer with the window? 

You dragged your legs pathetically across the room to the empty seat, akin to a fool, keeping your head hung low to shield your eyes from the potential stares of judgement the other students may have on you. You pulled the seat back, the creaking against the floor making you want to puke from the sheer anxiety gurgling in your stomach accumulated through these series of unfortunate events. With stiff moments, your body managed to manoeuvre itself to sit as the last bit of sanity you had left melted away. 

Do you say hi? No, you don’t even know him like that, and why would you say hi now of all times? After pulling a stunt like that? Do you want to be publicly shamed more than you already have? Calm down, it’s okay. Your fingers shifted against one another. It’ll be fine, you won’t ever see any of these people by the time this semester ends anyway, yeah, everything’s alright. 

“Do you have an instruction paper?” 

“HAE-gh?!”

Heaven above, if you may heed the plea of this poor, idiotic, stupid, stupid, stupid, child of man, please strike her down this instant so she may prevent herself from being the laughing stock of the party. 

“I mean,” You thwacked your chest, a bit harder than you intended, earning a puzzled look from the man beside you, “Yes, of course! The paper, no problem!”

What is this guy talking about? A paper? An instruction paper? You were in possession of no paper, what the hell were you talking about?

He tilted his head, eyes dropping to your table, with no paper in sight, then he lifted his gaze back at you. You’ve been caught, red handed. Your crime? Fabricating the truth with your insolent lies, that you had this alleged instruction paper. A despicable thing, you are. A paperless sham. 

“Sorry,” You sheepishly grinned, “I must’ve misheard, what did you say?”

He hummed, holy shit, he sounded ethereal, “The professor wants us to make a tabletop game for the next hour.” He passed the paper to you, “We need to be grouped with at least two people and then playtest the other games later, wanna work together?”

Excitement bubbled up in your chest, your heart jumping up and down for joy. You’re going to work with the pretty boy in class? And he’s the one who asked you first? Maybe this was a blessing in disguise after all! Fighting off the urge to etch a huge grin across your face, you nod. 

“Great,” He diverted his attention back to the paper, his fingers pointing out the instructions, “It says here that we need to make a multiplayer game with the materials and props provided…”

His voice began to wash out to the back of your mind as your head surged with thoughts of how this was actually happening and that you were interacting with the man you’d been ogling these past weeks. You felt with how hard your heart was thumping, that it could rip itself out of your chest at any minute. 

You talked to him! And he talked to you! And you were working together, nothing could make you feel more bliss than this. Wait, work together… Oh my god, work… you’re working with… him?! Your heart sank to your stomach. This newfound anxiety threatened to have you empty out all your insides on the table. What if your ideas sucked and he realises how much of a loser you are which then leads to him complaining about your mediocre performance to the professor further pushing your reputation down to the lowest of lows to the point that the unit coordinator of this class deems you an unworthy student and not only kicks you out of this course but also the whole university all together causing you to go home in shame as a university drop out with no career aspirations, no life, no money, no bi-

“I was thinking about using chess as our base idea, then we could branch out from there.”

Okay maybe you were thinking too far. Geez, what is wrong with you? Focus. You can’t afford to embarrass yourself more than you already have.

“Sure! To make it more interesting, how about…,” You trailed off for a moment to give your brain some time to think of something.

The first thought that came to mind was the game you’ve been obsessed with since highschool, it had an intricate system surrounding elements which lead you to your idea.

“How about we incorporate elements into it? We can have the usual system like water beats fire and stuff like that, but we can also spice it up with… hm… team ups?”

“Team ups?” He tilted his head, imploring you to elaborate your idea further. 

“For example, let’s say,” you brought two circular tokens provided on the table to your palm, “These two tokens are like our chess pieces, they have the element grass and fire respectively, if the player decides to have these two team up,” you stacked the two tokens atop one another, “They’d have a special damage effect. In the case of grass and fire teaming up, the enemy token will receive periodic damage for 2 turns.”

He rubbed his chin, leaning back onto his seat, “Sounds interesting, sure. Let’s work on that idea.”

You could feel ecstasy fluttering around your heart. He liked your idea! The two of you spent your time meticulously brainstorming and implementing mechanics, utilizing the materials provided to create a make-shift board game. In a blink of an eye, an hour had passed. 

You stretched in your seat, “So do we go around and play the other games now?”

“Mhm,” He replied, cracking his knuckles after writing down the last of the gameplay instructions, “Should we go around together?”

You should buy a lottery ticket after this. 

Standing up from your seat, you hid your jittering hands behind your back, “Sure! Which one do you want to play first?”

He pointed to a random table’s game, inviting you along with him. To be fairly honest, you didn’t give a single care in the world which game to play, any game played with your class “crush” would be bound to have you flying off your feet. The two of you jump from one game to another, winning some, losing some, teaming up in others. You almost lost your respiratory functions when his hand accidentally grazed yours for a grand total of 0.3 seconds, but it wasn’t a big deal (you saw the light actually). Before you know it, the time your professor had given you to playtest your classmates’ games had come to an end. 

You sat back down on your seats, next to the pretty boy, and proceeded to… do absolutely NOTHING. You writhed in your seat, grappling between various dialogue options you could use to make some form of innocent small talk. But nothing came out of your mouth, nothing. You couldn’t even conjure up the go-to repetitive questions university students always ask each other on their first meeting. You scratched at the calluses around your nails. Admittedly, you should probably focus on the professor's lecture instead, but that was practically impossible with the nerves coursing through your skin at the moment.

Class eventually came to an end and as you packed your bags, you couldn’t help but let out an internal sigh. This was it, your one chance to talk to the guy you’ve been eyeing on and you blew it. Who knows? You two could’ve had a wonderful blossoming friendship, but instead you had to hide behind your cowardice. Shame, truly a shame. 

“Out of curiosity, you don’t happen to play HSR, do you?”

Scratch that, there might just be a glimmer of hope left for you.

“Oh! Yes, I do. Do you play it as well?” You asked with a polite smile.

“I thought the element stuff sounded familiar,” He stood from his seat, you followed suit, “I do play.”

This was your chance! If you got his username, you two could play together and get to know one another through the very intimate activity that is online gaming. Yes! This was it! It’s time to bid farewell to your unfruitful social life, this is where you make a new beginning.

“Would you like to–”

“Kiongozi,” He looked away from you, facing the professor who had called him, “You wanted to speak to me after class?”

He nodded, waving a goodbye to you before making his way to the professor. You waved back, a pathetic wave, really. Your arm withered back down to your side when his back was fully turned to you. Turning your heel, you left the classroom. 

Clicking your tongue, you mumbled out an exasperated, “Tough luck,” footsteps blending in with the crowd of students as you made your way to the bus stop. There will be other chances in the future, you’re sure. So, as you shake off the disappointment out of your head, you instead think of how much content you’ll have to share with your roommate tonight, and a smile blooms on your face.

Although, on the walk home you came to a staggering realization. Even after all that, you didn’t even get his full name…

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[luvyeni]

luvyeni's masterlist 🤍...

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🤍 ... OTHERS !

6k drabble event — [MISC][M]

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©️LUVYENI

[cryptidghostgirl]

Make You Wish Chapter Five -- The Conversation

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: None that I can think of but please correct me if I am wrong.

Word Count: 1,324

Previous Part: Chapter Four -- Vox

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List 

Make You Wish Master List

A/N I promise I will get to the rest of the requests soon, I've just had a lot of people asking for part five of this series.

The shadows released Alastor and Y/n in his old studio. They melted into the ground around them as Y/n smiled brightly, her eyes traversing the familiar space.

"Happy to be back?" Alastor asked, watching her excitment fondly and Y/n nodded.

"I most certainly am. This is the most fun I've had in ages."

"More fun than murder?"

"Fucking with Vox like that? Definitely more fun than murder. That was the funniest thing I've seen in a long time."

"That's why you're lucky to have me around."

"Hey, you're the one who left, not me. You don't need to convince me I like spending time with you. Rather, you are in a need to be proving your care for me I should think."

"Am I, my dear?" Alastor crooned, leaning in slightly with his hands behind his back.

"Yes, you are."

He laughed.

"Well, I will have to get on that."

As Alastor approached the desk, his horns sprouting in shadows from his head, she made her way over to the corner of the space covered in of pillows and blankets. Hitting the pillows, they released a cloud of dust. Y/n shrugged slightly, waving the dust away from her nose before sitting down.

Alastor held his microphone to his mouth, recommencing his recording.

"Lets begin." Alastor announced as he sat down in his chair and began fiddling with the knobs on the table, "I'm gonna make you wish that I'd stayed gone, tune on in."

Y/n spotted her old crocheting project she'd started seven years before and smiled. Taking it in her hands, she began to continue her previous work.

"When I'm done, your status quo will know its race is run." Alastor continued, his demon form becoming even wilder and sharp at its edges.

"This will be fun." Y/n mused, watching him carefully.

Alastor turned to her, his smile sickeningly wide.

"Yes, it will be."

It was just like the old days. Alastor broadcasted his show while Y/n watched, working on whatever craft project was nearest to keep her hands busy. There was a deep seated comfort rising in her soul, a sense of belonging she hadn't felt in years.

Every once in a while over the course of his show, Alastor would turn his head back towards her. Y/n wasn't sure if he was checking in or making sure she hadn't left. Either way, she didn't care. After about three hours, Alastor at last signed off.

As soon as he hit the button that stopped his broadcast, Y/n placed her crocheting to the side. Getting to her feet, she walked over to him and took a seat on the desk, smiling brightly.

"What did you think, my dear?" Alastor asked, leaning back in his chair as he looked up at her.

"Amazing as always, Al. I swear, your voice was made for the air waves."

Alastor laughed lightly at this comment.

"I missed it. I missed you."

"I found myself missing you too, my dear. I had become so used to your constant presence, it was an odd thing to suddenly be alone."

"You like me!" Y/n teased in a singsong voice and Alastor smiled back at her, "Admit it!"

"Perchance. So, seven years." Alastor sighed.

"Seven years." Y/n confirmed.

"You work for an imp now? Seems an odd turn of events."

Y/n shrugged, turning her head to look out the window at the street far below.

"Blitzo is a friend. He helped me out a lot when you first left."

"So you joined his little team? How sinful, breaking the law and going to the living world to reap souls for paying customers."

Y/n turned back to him.

"I didn't realize you knew that much about what we did."

"I have my sources."

"Husk? Are your sources Husk? He's the only one that knows what it is I do now from the old crowd."

Alastor didn't reply.

"It's for sure Husk. How is he doing?"

"Y/n." Alastor warned, "Answer the question."

She sighed, kicking her legs slightly.

"I mean, nothing we do is technically legal." she admitted, "None of them have human disguises and our way to the human world is a book Blitzo stole from a fucking Goetia."

"You don't say." Alastor mused, "That would happen to have anything to do with this contract you're under."

Y/n's eyes locked with Alastor in silence. They glared sharply at one another in a battle of will. At last, Y/n relented.

"Yeah. It does."

"So, what is it? Why does a member of the Goetia family own your soul. Why is it that you have fallen so far."

"You really aren't gonna let this one go."

Alastor shook his head.

"Blitzo... well he was friends with the guy. Stolas, one of the Goetia princes in charge of the heavens or some shit. It's... Basically, I made a deal that if Stolas stays away from Blitzo and let us use the book, I would give him my soul."

"How altruistic. Though not unexpected from you, I suppose."

"It was only a few months after you left, Al. I couldn't take him on. Hell, you can't even take him on. He's a fucking Goetia. I did... I couldn't think of anything else. I did what I had to do to keep my friend safe."

"And why did he deserve your protection? He dug his grave and instead of lying in it, put you in."

"It's not his fault. Stolas got all weird with stuff and Blitzo was uncomfortable. There's this big threat of him tattling on us he hangs over our heads at all times. I... Blitzo did so much for me, Al. He helped me pick up the pieces of my life when it was clear you weren't coming back. I've become better now, stronger but back then, it was all I could do for him."

Alastor opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Y/n's phone buzzing.

"Sorry, gimme a second."

Alastor eyed the device in irritation as she pulled it from her pocket. Whatever was on the screen dampened her mood even further than their conversation had. She jumped down off the table, hurriedly typing something out on her phone.

"Shit, Al. I have to go, I'm sorry."

"Work?"

"Sorta."

"Ah. Your deal. Why does he not just pull you to him like a normal demon would."

"Well," Y/n began, sliding her phone back into the pocket of her dress, "first off, he's a hellborn not a demon. And second off he has this weird thing about being wanted? Well, not weird. Everyone wants to be wanted just like, he doesn't want to force me to come. At the same time, he knows if he asks for me, I have to. It's... he's complicated, Alastor. It's complicated."

"I could kill him for you. Make it a whole lot less complicated."

Y/n laughed.

"Thanks hun but I don't think even you could manage that one."

"You could make a deal with me, that would most likley cancel it out."

"And have you own my soul? No, I've seen how that pans out for people. I think I'll pass."

"Just a suggestion, my dear."

"Is it? You've been trying to make a deal with me since I first met you, Al. I feel like you shoulda caught the hint by now."

"It was worth a try." he shrugged.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Why is it you want my soul so badly anyways?"

"No reason. No reason at all."

"Yeah. I totally believe that."

Y/n's phone dinged again and she pulled it once more from her pocket. At the sight of the words on the screen she sighed, her brow furrowing in irritation.

"Pushy pushy." she hummed, "Look, I gotta go. I'll be back later."

And with those parting words, Y/n disappeared through the studio's door.

----

Next Part -> Chapter Six -- Stolas