#the ultimate steps challenge step challenge

[novella-november]

Not to harsh your joy regarding your personal project, (which does sound awesome!) the fact that you keep answering the "can I do fanfic?" questions with "technically yes, but have you considered not doing that?" does not actually *feel* very fanfic friendly. (Especially for anyone who enjoys fanfic as a hobby and isn't also an ofic writer. For example, I personally write almost exclusively character studies that are an explicit reaction to canon; there is no real way to write that sort of thing except as fanfic.)

Which is just a long-winded way of requesting that you maybe consider less of a caveat with the FAQ if you make one, please.

oh that was definitely not my intention, thanks for the ask! I think it was mostly just because I got that same question a few times in a row from various anons within the same time span (including some that were not published publicly), it just happened that I was thinking of my own project(s, plural now) in the last day when I answered those two, for those who want an extra creative challenge.

There's a reason my own original thing has been in my head for the last ten years without me actually writing it while I've written and posted tons of fanfiction, and even now some of my original works are going to be based on Arsene Lupin, so they'd technically be considered fanfiction since they're based on and use an established work for the characters and settings --

--writing completely original fic *is* harder, and that's exactly why I'm *suggesting* (not requiring!) that people consider taking 1 out of short story 4 challenges to look at their work in a new light.

90% of what I read and (until I actually start and finish my original works) 100% of what I've written in my life is fanfic. I have nothing against fanfic, otherwise I woudn't even be interested in creative writing.

But its also not a diss to say "Would you consider looking at your [fanfic] writing from a new angle and try to figure out different ways of going about it?"

Honestly, being able to even consider this option *as a fun extra challenge* is meant to help improve your writing and creative skills; it's not meant as a cheap shot at people who choose to write fanfiction because I my self write and read tons of it,

it's me saying "if you want even more practice at creative writing during these monthly challenges, try branching out a little bit from your comfort zone, you may be pleasantly surprised."

People who write and read fanfiction already have tons of creative experience, and if people like me and many other fanfic writers who one day dream of being published authors, want to broaden our horizons and seek new experiences, one of the easiest exercises is to take something we're planning on writing or already wrote, and see what we would change to make it brand new and standalone--

-- something that not only helps you come up with new ideas, but also will help when it comes time to *edit*, which can be, depending on the length and complexity of your story, can be a complicated process:

whether that means having to delete scenes entirely,

changing what a character says,

altering an aspect of the worldbuilding to fix plot holes

, re-writing your character so they're not overpowered because it was ruining the stakes and tension,

changing the POV of chapters because it was ruining the flow of the story,

etc etc etc.

I love fan fiction.

I love reading it and I love writing it, and for many people who take on monthly writing challenges, it is a way to test ourselves and gear ourselves up and prove to ourselves that not only can we write x amount of words, but it proves to ourselves that we are *capable of creating*, and for many creatives, that ultimately leads to crafting our own unique stories;

if you're already taking place in a monthly writing challenge, why not push the bounds a little bit *if you're so inclined* and test the waters? Especially when you're surrounded by a community who is cheering you on, every step of the way?

Every Nanowrimo I ever won was fanfiction. Heck, even not during November I once did 40k words in two weeks for a fic.

I always stalled out when I tried to write original works;

it is much easier to start small with a single short story than it is to try to write an entirely original novel, and my encouraging people to try baby steps by *experimenting* with one short story out of four in a month is not meant to be a diss against fanfiction,

but an *encouragement to those like me* who were so eager to write original works but floundered when I tried to jump into the deep end and felt disheartened.

Many fanfic authors aspire to write original fics, and thats who that challenge is for, for the people who want to write original works but are too afraid to fully commit; I'll still be writing and posting fanfiction even if I become a published author, even If I just have to come up with a few new pen-names to post them under.

There's absolutely no judgement on anyone who wants to write fanfiction for these challenges, my "caveat" as you say, is only there as encouragement to those like me who are afraid to take the first step, or uncertain of how to even *begin* that first step, not any kind of condemnation.

TL;DR:

I did not mean for my responses on the "can I write fanfiction" to come off as rude or looking down on fanfiction, its meant to be an encouragment to all the people like me who love fanfic and started out writing fanfiction, and dream of writing original works to take the first step, with a community of like-minded people all taking the same challenge.

Like every other challenge aspect of these events, taking a fanfic idea and turning it into an original short story is completely optional and meant as inspiration, just like following prompts for events is not mandatory, and even completing the 30k word goal is not mandatory; the goal for this month is to create, get in the habit of creating, and having fun with it!

[laspocelliere]

Day Twenty: Duel

A lifetime in Ishgard had prepared Aymeric for colossal, impressive rooms. When he stepped into the palace of the Dawnservant, however, he couldn’t help the way he looked up, and up, and up, the enormous receiving chambers seeming to have no ceiling at all for how high it went. Torchlight flickered against the warm stone walls, and at the far end, the Dawnservant himself had sat, comfortable and patient, waiting for his invited guest to approach.

Gulool Ja Ja was a calm, authoritative figure on his throne, fingers drumming absently on the armrests, waiting with a bemused, parental smile as Aymeric came forward. A far cry, to be sure, from the cold, ultimate power that his father had once held in Ishgard, and the long, sharp shadows that he cast upon his unwanted son.

The Dawnservant, by contrast, seemed to look at him fondly, even without knowing him.

“So, stranger,” Gulool Ja Ja began, spreading his hands out in welcome. “I hear you have come to our shores in search of my daughter’s champion.”

How strange, to have her referred to in that way, Aymeric thought to himself as he tried to collect his words properly. The woman he had devoted life and limb to, the one who had his sword and his heart in equal measure, summed up in a manner that addressed neither her accomplishments nor her life at all. A handful of words that had nothing to do with her, and the impossibility that she was, and yet – it was all that anyone here knew her as. 

That, at least, was by design. Before she’d left for Tural, they’d discussed it at length. There was a new danger that came with her reputation after Ultima Thule; in particular, her apparent resurrection following the deliverance of the Star. Threats may have been eliminated, but that type of legendary status meant an open door for another instance to try and eliminate her now that she had, in theory, ‘let her guard down’. 

She would go, but she wouldn’t fight. She would watch, but she wouldn’t interfere. She needed to keep an eye on proceedings, that much they agreed; but nothing in Tural was worth the risk of drawing attention to what – and what – she really was.

Aymeric met the Dawnservant’s discerning gaze, and didn’t falter. “I am.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, like sunlight breaking over the sea, the Head of Resolve’s face broke out into a toothy, crooked, delighted grin.

“I see you, stranger,” he said, laughing merrily around his words. “No stranger at all! You are her consort.”

Bemused, Aymeric bowed before Tural’s exalted ruler. “I don’t think I’ve quite heard it put that way before,” he said, straightening. Amusement danced in his bright blue eyes. “I don’t dislike it.”

“She never said a word!” The Dawnservant slapped his knees happily, pushing himself to his feet. “I would have had a proper welcome for you, had I known.”

Aymeric’s smile softened, and the expression that had given him away to the sharp-eyed ruler was back when he spoke of his wife. “She’s not one to speak of her personal life.”

“Nor you either, I reckon!” Gulool Ja Ja looked down at the elezen man, seeming to size him up anew. “I am very curious to meet the man who our lauded champion has aligned me with.” With the light of a new idea, the Dawnservant’s toothy smile twisted ever-wider. “You know, I got to know her by challenging her to a duel.”

“Is that so?” Aymeric took stock of the leader before him; his power, his legacy, his considerable strength. “And did she land you on your back?”

The Dawnservant’s laughing guffaw was so boisterous, it nearly hit the rafters high above. 

“She did at that!” He admitted cheerily. “Not in my lifetime have I come across such a worthy opponent. She is strong and capable, your warrior.”

“Wife.” Aymeric’s correction was quiet, but the pride he held at being able to hold such a word in his mouth was something he couldn’t hide. “She’s my wife.”

Gulool Ja Ja’s smile didn’t falter, for all that it softened.

“Well then,” he said, slamming his fist into his opposite palm decisively. “If that is the case, I think you and I will need to duel as well, stranger. I have grown rather fond of our champion, you see. I would need to see that she has chosen herself a worthy consort.”

The delight in the Dawnservant’s tone was contagious, and Aymeric found himself smiling. “I would be honoured.”

“Wonderful! I will summon you again, and mind you bring everything you have; I will be holding you to a very high standard, stranger.”

“Aymeric,” he offered, bowing once more, Ishgardian courtesy running deep in his veins. The Dawnservant chuckled, and ducked his head reverently in return.

“Until we meet again, Aymeric.”

[ask-ursa-tonypeter]

[fic: double-blind] Question for extremis!Tony: you mentioned making it up to Peter after realizing the cure didn’t work, where do you first go from there? Obviously Peter did enjoy the sex even if it wasn’t all genuine, and the kiss after super genuine, are you capitalizing on that?

"Capitalizing." You people really think I'm just an opportunist, don't you? I did what he asked me to. He would have to work pretty hard to make me believe it was something he actually wanted after that stunt, so no, I wouldn't "capitalize" on anything.

I'd hear him out. I'd give him what comfort I could. I would show him that I love him and wasn't angry with him and would never hurt him. I'd build him a better world. I'd ask what he wanted to see in it. What else could I do?

[villainsidestep]

if u did have 2 be puppetstuck to date jake….. smh

[craig960114]

story by me (craig)

I are literature

In the quiet town of Doodleville, there lived a peculiar doodle named Craig. Craig was no ordinary sketch; he was a cat with a mission. Despite his simple appearance, Craig harbored ambitions far grander than his humble origins suggested.

From a young age, Craig possessed an insatiable curiosity and a keen intellect. While his peers contented themselves with idle doodling, Craig spent his days studying the world around him, absorbing knowledge like a sponge. He learned about history, politics, and the intricacies of human behavior, all from the confines of his paper realm.

As Craig grew older, his ambitions expanded. He yearned for something more than the confines of Doodleville. He dreamed of venturing beyond the borders of his sketchbook and making his mark on the wider world.

One fateful day, Craig's opportunity arrived in the form of a stray pencil left unattended on the edge of his page. With a mixture of determination and excitement, Craig seized the pencil and began to draw. He sketched a doorway leading out of Doodleville, and with a final flourish, he stepped through into the unknown.

The world outside was vast and full of wonders, but it was also fraught with danger. Undeterred, Craig embarked on a quest to carve out his own destiny. Along the way, he encountered a colorful cast of characters, from mischievous doodles to formidable adversaries.

Despite the challenges he faced, Craig never lost sight of his ultimate goal: to leave his mark on the world and reshape it according to his vision. With each obstacle overcome and each victory achieved, Craig grew stronger and more determined than ever before.

In the end, Craig's journey was not just about conquering the world, but about discovering his true self and realizing his full potential. As he stood atop the highest peak, surveying the realm he had conquered, Craig knew that his adventures were only just beginning. For Craig was not just a doodle; he was a legend in the making, destined for greatness beyond the confines of his paper kingdom.

[afriendofmara]

"Listen to dungeons and daddies" they said, "its a funny podcast" they said, "just dad jokes and dnd" they said. There was no mention of weeping my heart out at Least every ten episodes if not less. Fuck me

[creepwonder]

[ghostgirl101]

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||

A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?

You weren't one for dreams of destiny.

The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.

But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.

You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.

The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.

His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.

"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."

Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.

"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."

His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.

"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.

"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."

Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.

Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.

You were absolutely perfect.

And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.

"Do you know what I am?"

You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."

"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"

You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.

"No," you decide on hesitantly.

"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."

His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.

"In this future, I am with you."

All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.

"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.

"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."

"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"

His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.

"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"

The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.

But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.

"That's unfair."

"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."

You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.

"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."

You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.

"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."

Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.

"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."

Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.

When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.

"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.

⊹⊹⊹

From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.

The first step has been made.

══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════

[olivianyx]

GET YOUR DREAM LIFE: A CHALLENGE

Welcome to this challenge, babygirls and babyboys 🗣️🗣️🗣️

So are you ready to manifest everything you desired in April? Then start up rn!

I'll show you 5 important, simple steps you can use to manifest your dream life!

This challenge will be done for 30 days throughout April. At the end of this month, the results are guaranteed!

You might be wondering if its gonna be hard... Buuuut! The steps are super duper simple, just follow them!

THE STEPS:

🤍 MENTAL DIET 🤍

Y'all heard it right, maintain a strict mental diet, like literally stop wavering! Stop focusing on things you don't want! Don't accept things you don't want! It's that simple. Only focus on positive and favourable thoughts.

Your mornings should go like, 'uhh it's such a beautiful day. It's gonna be amazing day as always. But it's gonna be fun today! I literally love this life, it's freaking amazing, I literally don't know how to thank myself for this. The fact that I'm the ultimate creator is soo mind blowing for me even though I've always been for my entire life. I'm literally thankful for everything! My life's being too perfect and I get what I want everytime, everything's in my favour always. I literally look soo amazing in every outfit I wear, it's such a slay everyday. Uhh I'm soo lucky to have what I want. Literally my self concept is supreme' and blah blah blah. You can add whatever you want further lol.

So like literally throughout the day steady yourself in this mindset. If you catch yourself wavering, be like *sike there ain't no chance bitch* come back on track! Catch yourself waver ---> stop ---> drop ---> flip it into something positive or favourable.

Literally robotic affirming is the only way you can keep your thoughts in check. So go bestie! Keep your head high, keep a check on those thoughts inside your pretty/handsome head 😩 keep slaying everyday ✨

🤍 ROBOTIC AFFIRMING 🤍

Keep affirming babygirls and babyboys! Like literally don't even stop (unless you're doing smth important, then stop affirming for a while lol) y'all got your dream lives already 💅 so why y'all telling yourself that you don't?? Well y'all do have it, so tell yourself the ULTIMATE FACT that you have your dream lives already 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ tell yourself whenever you're free, like even doing your daily chores such as taking a shit or shower, or brushing your teeth, eating, scrolling through the phone, or walking, waiting in a queue (I'd never wait in a queue... Cus I don't go to places with long ass annoying queues 😭) or listening to music or watching TV, doing the dishes or doing self care (I love my babygirls and babyboys taking care of themselves like there's no tomorrow 😩✋🏻I'mma give y'all a nice smooch 😚) just do it my babies! It's the ultimate way to get (which you already have it) your dream lives! So get tf up babies! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

🤍 LIVING IN THE END 🤍

This step shouldn't be missed at all babies! So focus on the end! Focus on having it! Focus on thinking from the end! Like you already are living yor dream lives, you have that car you wanted cus you already drive it everyday! You have that sp that loves you till death, that spoils you with their love, money, and what not?! You have that house you've been dreaming of! No, I mean living! You're living in that house already! It's yours my love! You got that perfect sculptured summer body ody that the normal human beings are jealous?? Like you have that body effortlessly 😩✋🏻 FOCUS ON HAVING IT BITCHES 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

🤍 USING SLEEP TO YOUR ADVANTAGE! 🤍

Listen here, my babygirls and babyboys! You sleep 7 to 8 hours a day, and sleep, according to medicals, is a state of complete rest. That means you're not aware of your surroundings. You're just being a black, quiet, space like floaty state (the void actually) so things are easier to manifest Instantly in this state! So why not do psych k or sats or the lullaby method before bed and after you wake up my loves?? It's so much more effective that what you do in the day time! Trust me! Go prepare yourself well for the bed babies 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

🤍 PERSISTENCE 🤍

Since you already affirming that you have your dream lives, you have it already! But you can begin to doubt that why is it not in the 3d... BITCH DON'T EVEN THINK LIKE THAT. Be like 'bitch wtf my life literally feels like a dream come true moment everyday 😭😭 like I'm literally living the life I wanted, I already am experiencing it wtf are you talking about' like literally GASLIGHT YOURSELF INTO THINKING LIKE THAT (cus you already have your dream life) like literally decide that you already have! Hold onto the new story no matter what! 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

So ig I've told you what you needed to do... So all you gotta do is follow the fucking steps babies 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

Okay, take care, love y'all babies! Byeee

- olivia 🤍

[sukunasteeth]

Your First Time on Sukuna's Bike

You lost a bet. 

That’s ultimately how you ended up here.  

"Hey," Sukuna is calling your attention to him, sitting on his motorcycle with a spare helmet outstretched in your direction. "Put it on."

The sun was just starting to set behind him on the horizon, casting him in this warm orange flavored glow that was almost comforting. Almost. 

"'Kuna, maybe this is a bad idea." You stay where you are a few feet away, shifting from foot to foot nervously. "Maybe you should go to the meetup by yourself-"

He interrupts you with one call of your name, effectively silencing you. He raises a brow.

"C'mere," He's smirking at you, seeing your unease as a challenge. Like he always did. 

"No, totally, I would. It's just-I- " You can't find the words to deny him. They don't come to you anymore. Your heart aims to please him in everything but your body is frozen in fear. Your brain scrambles to produce something- any kind of lie under his lion-like gaze. "I just remembered that Yuji asked me to do something with him-"

"Yuji's with his goth boyfriend." Sukuna rolls his eyes, quickly swapping the helmet to his other hand and leaning across the short distance between you to grasp your wrist instead. He tugs you closer to him, until your shoe is nearly touching the tire of his bike.

He's grinning up at you, with that convincing little squint to his eyes.

"Chicken shit." He accuses.

You gape at him.

"I am not afraid of your little motor bike, okay?"

"Then put the helmet on, Braveheart." He shoves said helmet into your hands and releases it before you can say no to fully grasping its weight. You fumble with it, trying not to let the piece of equipment slip to the asphalt, it felt expensive and heavy with quality, just as a lot of Sukuna's things did.

When you finally have it secured to your chest, safe and sound, you pale at the thought of the next step. 

Now, Sukuna was nothing if not a gentleman. You knew that. But, he also was constantly toeing the line of gentleman and... complete and utter vagrant menace. He would come over to your apartment after a meetup like the one the two of you were going to, with wind whipped cheeks and adrenaline clearly glimmering in his eyes. Occasionally, he would even ask you if you had a spare tarp so that he could cover his bike in case the police came around the neighborhood looking for a similar one.

Being in one of his turbo kitted cars was different. If there was an accident, it wasn't just between you, the heavy leather jacket Sukuna had bought you, and the rough merciless asphalt of the street.

You're staring down at the helmet like it's a death sentence when Sukuna calls for your eyes again, his hand coming up to caress the back of your arm with a gentle, coaxing touch. He ushers you until you're within his airspace, creating a timeless bubble where only the two of you exist. 

You’re slightly guilty when you look up at him. You hated questioning Sukuna, especially when it came to something like your safety, which he would never put at risk, but you can't help the nerves curdling in your stomach.

His gaze melts into something similar to sympathy, still slightly amused with you. 

"Why're you scared?” He wants to know. He knows just which soft and low tone of voice to use on you- to make every secret you have come rushing to the surface, desperate to please him just like the rest of you was. 

"Scared? Of a stick with two wheels that can go in between cars that weigh literal tons while riding at a speed of 120 miles per hour? No. No, why would I be scared?"

"120 miles per hour?" He repeats, cocking a brow at you. "And put my little chicken shit in danger? Are you insane?"

You bite your lip. 

“Can we go slow?” 

Sukuna merely laughs, turning back towards his bike and turning the key to kick start the ignition. The time for conversation was clearly over. 

“Put it on.” ~

Sukuna actually does go at a reasonable speed for the majority of the time. You get used to the feeling of the wind gliding over every inch of you, hissing so loudly in your ears that all other sounds become moot. It’s almost like white noise. 

Sukuna’s body is warm and sturdy against your front, and you press more of yourself than needed into him, just to be closer. Occasionally he’ll reach down and squeeze your thigh or point something out for you to look at, but otherwise he lets you take in the scenery at an easy pace. 

After an hour of riding, you may very well say it was comforting on the bike. 

At least, until you get to a long stretch of highway, that is. Empty and wide as it is long. A highway to some rural part of the city you had never been to before. 

Sukuna taps your knee, and then reaches up and tightens your hold on his waist. It was a signal. 

“Wait-” Even if Sukuna could hear you past the helmets, the unrelenting wind, and the roar of the motorcycle beneath you, he didn’t give you a chance to say much. 

The bike climbs speed as your heartbeat climbs in speed and if it weren’t for the helmet, it would be impossible to breathe easy with the wind whisking around you in such a flurry. Your thighs press into Sukuna’s, and you peek over his shoulder at the speedometer to watch it hit 95. It felt so much faster to you. It felt like you were flying. 

You can’t help the giggles that escape you as exhilaration plucks them out of you. 

Fear had long since revealed itself as excitement to you, and Sukuna could tell in the way you would kick your feet as he revved the engine that you were on the same page now. 

By the time the two of you make it to the meetup, you’re buzzing like a ball of electricity. Sukuna parks the bike, kicks the stand out, and immediately turns around to unclasp your helmet first. 

You tear it off of you, barely containing yourself long enough for him to remove his own before you're winding your arms around his neck. Giggles are still leaking out of you and into his ear, which is searing cold beneath your lips. 

“I told you you’d like it.” He chuckles, leaning backwards into you and forcing you to be the one to keep the both of you upright. You use your free hand to pull on his hood, forcing him back even further until you can press a kiss to his prideful smile.  

“That was fun.” You whisper.

“Good.” He whispers back, grabbing his keys from the ignition without moving his head from your grasp. “You’re drivin’ us home.” 

[esotericalchemist]

Atmakaraka - Your Soul's Desire

Masterlist - YouTube (subliminals)

In Vedic Astrology, Atmakaraka is the planet that symbolises your soul's essence and the core of your identity. It's determined by the planet with the highest degree in your birth chart, offering deep insights into your true nature, life purpose, and the spiritual lessons you are here to learn. Atmakaraka helps you uncover the most fundamental aspects of who you are and the key challenges and growth opportunities in your life journey.

HOW TO FIND IT?

Atmakaraka is found by looking at the planet with the highest degree in your birth chart. The planets that can be your Atmakaraka are: The Sun, Moon, Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, and Saturn. Rahu and Ketu are NOT considered.

Step 1: Convert the birth chart to Vedic/Sidereal.

Step 2: Find the planet with the highest degree

Now that we have converted the birth chart to the sidereal system, we can identify the planet with the highest degree. Remember, only the Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn are involved. In the birth chart above, the planet with the highest degree is Mars.

NOW THAT YOU HAVE FOUND YOUR ATMAKARAKA, LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT THE MEANING!

☉︎ - Sun as Atmakaraka

When the Sun is your Atmakaraka, it signifies that your soul is deeply connected to themes of self-identity, purpose, and leadership. The Sun represents your core essence, the light that shines within you, driving you to seek recognition and authority in your life. This influence suggests that your journey involves understanding who you truly are and stepping into a role where you can express your individuality with confidence and clarity.

Your life path is likely centered around developing a strong sense of self and learning to shine your light in a way that benefits not just you, but those around you. The Sun Atmakaraka urges you to embrace leadership roles, where you can take charge and inspire others. It’s about finding your inner strength and using it to guide your actions, as well as illuminating the path for others to follow.

With the Sun as your Atmakaraka, there is a powerful focus on authenticity and integrity. You are challenged to align your actions with your true self and to lead by example. This path often involves overcoming ego-driven tendencies or the need for external validation, learning instead to find self-worth within. Your soul’s growth comes from embracing your unique purpose and understanding that your light is meant to be shared.

Ultimately, having the Sun as your Atmakaraka means your spiritual journey is about mastering the art of self-expression and leadership. Your soul’s mission is to cultivate a deep understanding of your true identity and to use that awareness to lead others with wisdom and integrity. By doing so, you fulfill your potential and allow your inner light to shine brightly, both for yourself and for those you influence.

☽︎ - Moon as Atmakaraka

When the Moon is your Atmakaraka, it indicates that your soul is deeply connected to emotions, intuition, and the inner world. The Moon represents your emotional core, reflecting a journey focused on understanding and nurturing your feelings and those of others. This influence suggests that your life’s path revolves around developing emotional intelligence and creating a sense of inner security and peace.

Your journey with the Moon as your Atmakaraka involves navigating the ebb and flow of emotions, learning to trust your intuition, and embracing your sensitive nature. You may find that your soul’s growth comes from experiences that require deep emotional engagement, whether in relationships, caregiving, or nurturing your own inner child. Your path is about finding balance between your emotional needs and the demands of the outer world.

With the Moon guiding your soul’s journey, there is a strong emphasis on creating a nurturing environment, both for yourself and others. You are likely drawn to roles where you can offer support, comfort, and understanding. The Moon Atmakaraka encourages you to embrace your empathetic side, to be in tune with the cycles of life, and to find strength in your vulnerability.

Ultimately, having the Moon as your Atmakaraka means your spiritual journey is about mastering the art of emotional connection and intuition. Your soul’s mission is to create and maintain emotional harmony, to care for others, and to cultivate a deep understanding of your own inner world. Through this, you fulfill your potential by becoming a source of comfort and guidance for yourself and those around you.

☿ - Mercury as Atmakaraka

When Mercury is your Atmakaraka, it signifies that your soul is deeply intertwined with communication, intellect, and adaptability. Mercury represents the mind’s agility and your ability to connect with others through words, ideas, and quick thinking. This influence suggests that your life’s journey is centered around learning, sharing knowledge, and honing your skills in communication and analysis.

Your path with Mercury as your Atmakaraka involves exploring a variety of perspectives, constantly seeking new information and experiences. You may find that your soul’s growth comes through intellectual pursuits, whether in writing, teaching, or any form of expression that allows you to convey ideas clearly and effectively. Your journey is about refining your mental abilities and using them to make meaningful connections.

With Mercury guiding your soul’s purpose, there is a strong emphasis on versatility and adaptability. You are likely drawn to environments where you can engage with others, exchange ideas, and solve problems creatively. Mercury Atmakaraka encourages you to embrace your curiosity, to remain open-minded, and to communicate with clarity and precision.

Ultimately, having Mercury as your Atmakaraka means your spiritual journey is about mastering the art of communication and intellectual exploration. Your soul’s mission is to use your mental agility and communication skills to navigate life’s complexities, to learn continuously, and to share your insights with the world. Through this, you fulfill your potential by becoming a bridge between ideas and people, facilitating understanding and growth.

♀ - Venus as Atmakaraka

When Venus is your Atmakaraka, it indicates that your soul is deeply aligned with love, beauty, and harmony. Venus represents your capacity for affection, your appreciation for the finer things in life, and your pursuit of balance and pleasure. This influence suggests that your life’s journey is centered around cultivating meaningful relationships, expressing creativity, and finding joy in both the material and spiritual aspects of life.

With Venus as your Atmakaraka, your path involves learning the true nature of love and connection. You may find that your soul’s growth comes through experiences that teach you about giving and receiving love, both in romantic relationships and in your interactions with others. There is a strong focus on the aesthetic and sensual aspects of life, encouraging you to seek beauty and harmony in everything you do.

Your journey is also about exploring your creative talents and expressing yourself through art, music, or any form of beauty that resonates with you. Venus Atmakaraka invites you to find joy in these pursuits and to share that joy with others. It encourages you to create environments where love and beauty can flourish, fostering relationships that are both fulfilling and harmonious.

Ultimately, having Venus as your Atmakaraka means your spiritual journey is about mastering the art of love and beauty. Your soul’s mission is to embrace the pleasures of life while maintaining balance and harmony, to build relationships that uplift and inspire, and to express your creativity in ways that bring joy to yourself and others. Through this, you fulfill your potential by becoming a beacon of love, beauty, and harmony in the world.

♂ - Mars as Atmakaraka

When Mars is your Atmakaraka, it signifies that your soul is deeply connected to action, courage, and determination. Mars represents your drive, your ability to take initiative, and your passion for pursuing goals. This influence suggests that your life’s journey is centered around developing strength, asserting your will, and overcoming challenges with bravery and perseverance.

With Mars as your Atmakaraka, your path involves learning to harness your inner warrior. You may find that your soul’s growth comes through experiences that test your courage and require you to stand up for yourself or others. Whether in conflict, competition, or the pursuit of your ambitions, you are driven to take decisive action and to assert your independence and power.

Your journey is also about channeling your energy in constructive ways, using your determination and resilience to achieve your goals. Mars Atmakaraka encourages you to embrace challenges as opportunities for growth and to act with confidence and clarity in all aspects of your life. It invites you to cultivate discipline and focus, ensuring that your actions are aligned with your higher purpose.

Ultimately, having Mars as your Atmakaraka means your spiritual journey is about mastering the art of action and strength. Your soul’s mission is to cultivate courage, to take bold steps towards your goals, and to face life’s obstacles with determination and resolve. Through this, you fulfill your potential by becoming a powerful force for change and achievement, inspiring others with your passion and tenacity.

♃ - Jupiter as Atmakaraka

When Jupiter is your Atmakaraka, it indicates that your soul is deeply connected to wisdom, growth, and expansiveness. Jupiter represents your quest for knowledge, your sense of optimism, and your desire for spiritual and intellectual exploration. This influence suggests that your life’s journey is centered around seeking higher truths, embracing opportunities for growth, and sharing your wisdom with others.

With Jupiter as your Atmakaraka, your path involves learning to expand your horizons and to cultivate a deep understanding of the world around you. You may find that your soul’s growth comes through experiences that broaden your perspective, whether through travel, education, or spiritual practices. There is a strong focus on developing a sense of purpose and finding meaning in life’s experiences.

Your journey is also about generosity and abundance, both in material and spiritual terms. Jupiter Atmakaraka encourages you to share your knowledge and insights with others, to act as a guide or mentor, and to spread positivity and hope. It invites you to approach life with an open heart and mind, always ready to learn and grow, and to inspire others to do the same.

Ultimately, having Jupiter as your Atmakaraka means your spiritual journey is about mastering the art of wisdom and expansion. Your soul’s mission is to seek out and embrace opportunities for growth, to live with optimism and purpose, and to share your understanding and insights with the world. Through this, you fulfill your potential by becoming a source of wisdom and inspiration, helping others to grow and thrive alongside you.

♄ - Saturn as Atmakaraka

When Saturn is your Atmakaraka, it signifies that your soul is deeply connected to themes of discipline, responsibility, and endurance. Saturn represents structure, perseverance, and the wisdom that comes from facing life’s challenges. This influence suggests that your life’s journey is centered around mastering patience, accepting responsibility, and developing a strong sense of duty and resilience.

With Saturn as your Atmakaraka, your path involves learning to embrace the lessons that come with time and hardship. You may find that your soul’s growth is shaped by experiences that test your limits and require you to develop inner strength and fortitude. Saturn teaches you the value of hard work, persistence, and the importance of building a solid foundation for your life, even if it means taking the long and sometimes difficult road.

Your journey is also about cultivating a sense of responsibility and maturity. Saturn Atmakaraka encourages you to take on the roles of mentor, leader, or caretaker, where your wisdom and experience can guide others. It invites you to accept the challenges life presents, knowing that they are opportunities for growth and that the rewards come with patience and perseverance.

Ultimately, having Saturn as your Atmakaraka means your spiritual journey is about mastering the art of discipline and resilience. Your soul’s mission is to face life’s challenges with grace and determination, to build a legacy through consistent effort, and to find strength in the trials that shape you. Through this, you fulfill your potential by becoming a beacon of stability and wisdom, guiding others with your hard-earned experience and steady hand.

[idkyetxoxo]

Daemon Targaryen - His and Only His

Summary - Daemon's jealousy flares as he accuses his wife of flirting with another man. His rage sparks a fierce, passionate encounter, driven by intense possessiveness. He believes the ultimate way to assert his dominance is to leave her yearning and breathless beneath him.

Pairing - Daemon Targaryen x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!!)

Word count - 2074

Masterlist for Daemon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"Daemon, I find myself consistently having this conversation with you," I said wearily, my head in my hands, the room filled with an uncomfortable silence.

The night draped around us, the moon casting a ghostly glow through the window, and the candles flickered dimly as if mirroring the unease between us.

"This jealousy is unwarranted," I continued, my voice tinged with frustration. "Lord Harlan was merely being polite."

Daemon's eyes flashed with anger as he paced the room, his fists clenched at his sides. "Polite? He was practically courting you right in front of me! And you stood there, smiling!"

"He was making idle conversation," I countered, trying to keep my voice steady. "There was nothing more to it."

Daemon stopped abruptly, turning to face me, his expression dark. "Do you take me for a fool? I saw the way he looked at you. And the way you responded—"

"I was being polite, Daemon!" I snapped, rising to my feet, unable to contain my own frustration. "Must I remind you that I am not some possession to be guarded jealously?"

Daemon's eyes narrowed, anger simmering beneath the surface. "Polite? He practically leered at you, and you stood there like you enjoyed it!"

I shot back, "Enjoyed it? I was trying to keep the peace, Daemon! Not everything is a threat to you."

His frustration boiled over as he stepped closer, fists clenched. "It's not about peace! It's about respect. You're my wife, and you're letting some man shower you with attention!"

"Attention?" I laughed bitterly. "You're making a mountain out of a molehill. Do you really think I would betray you for some empty compliments?"

Daemon's voice rose, "It's not about betrayal! It's about how it looks. You're too naive to see that your actions can be misinterpreted!"

"Naive? I'm trying to navigate this treacherous court while you wallow in jealousy!" I shot back, feeling my own anger swell.

For a moment, we stood there, glaring at each other, the air thick with unspoken words. The candles flickered more violently as if they, too, were caught up in the tempest of our emotions.

"You are mine, not anyone else's," he whispered, his voice low and commanding, as he approached me with swift, purposeful movements. 

The shadows cast by the flickering candlelight danced across his face, making his eyes gleam with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

He gripped my face in his hands, his eyes staring down at me possessively. My breath caught in my throat, my stomach twisting and turning at his sudden intensity. His fingers, firm and unyielding, pressed into my skin, holding me in place as if daring me to challenge his claim.

"Mine," he emphasized, before crushing his lips against mine with a force that took me by surprise. 

I responded immediately, unable to resist the passion in his kiss. His tongue invaded my mouth, demanding and insistent as if he were branding me with his touch.

"He does not get to have the pleasure of even looking at you," he declared, his hands moving to tear the fabric of my dress from my body. 

The sound of ripping cloth echoed in the room, mingling with the heavy breaths and the rapid thumping of our hearts.

His eyes roamed over my exposed skin possessively, igniting a fierce desire within me. With a defiant smirk, I swiftly removed his clothes, my hands eager and knowing. I could feel his muscles tense beneath my touch, his skin hot and inviting.

Our lips found each other again with urgency, and without hesitation, he lifted me and carried me to our bed. He placed me down roughly, hovering over me before swiftly entering me. 

A gasp escaped my lips at the sudden rush of pleasure coursing through me.

The anger had now turned into a fierce need, as if he was trying to reclaim what he feared losing.

"You're so desperate for me," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "Already so wet and aching. Something he could never do."

"I bet he dreams of having you like this," he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with desire, punctuating his words with deep, forceful thrusts. 

My hands grasped his back, my nails digging into his skin in response to his forceful movements. 

His fingers tangled in my hair, pulling possessively as he continued to move within me. The sting of his grip was a delicious counterpoint to the pleasure flooding my senses, each sensation amplifying the other.

"No one else is allowed to imagine you like this," he declared firmly, his words laced with possessiveness and primal need. 

All I could manage in response was a fervent nod, my senses overwhelmed by the intensity of our connection, the raw passion that bound us together in that heated moment.

"You are mine," he repeated, his voice low and commanding, as he lifted my legs over his shoulders to give him better access. His thrusts grew deeper and quicker, each movement eliciting cries of ecstasy that filled the room.

"Say it," he commanded, his hands firm on my hips, steadying me as he took control. 

The intensity of his movements left me breathless, the world narrowing down to the rhythm of his body against mine.

All I could manage was a whimper, overwhelmed by the intensity of our encounter, words caught in my throat. My body responded instinctively to his demands, arching towards him, seeking more.

"Say it," he demanded again, his voice tinged with desire and dominance. His eyes bore into mine, demanding surrender, craving affirmation of my submission to him.

I opened my mouth, breathless and desperate, finally whispering, "I am yours."

A satisfied smirk crossed his lips as he heard my confession, his eyes smouldering with satisfaction and possessiveness. The look in his eyes made my pulse quicken, and I felt a thrill of excitement course through me.

With a sudden, fluid motion, he effortlessly shifted our positions, flipping me beneath him with a display of strength that left me breathless. 

Now on my hands and knees, his hands found their way to the small of my back, holding me firmly in place. His grip was possessive, yet reassuring, a silent promise of what was to come. His fingers pressed into my skin, anchoring me to the moment.

He realigned himself, entering me again with a controlled force that made me squirm with a mixture of pleasure and anticipation. Each movement was deliberate, his body moving with a primal rhythm that resonated through me. 

The sensation was exquisite, a blend of control and wild abandon that left me gasping for more.

"So beautiful, so perfect," he murmured, his voice husky with desire, as I arched my back instinctively, inviting him deeper. 

His hands explored my body with a possessive hunger, fingers slipping underneath to caress and squeeze my breasts.

His touch was skilful and knowing, each squeeze and knead sending ripples of pleasure through me. I gasped and moaned softly, lost in the intoxicating mix of sensation and emotion that he effortlessly stirred within me.

His movements became more urgent, more insistent as if he was as lost in the moment as I was. The room seemed to pulse with the energy between us, every sense heightened, every touch more intense.

"Do you feel that?" he growled, his voice thick with need. "That's what you do to me. No one else can make me feel this way."

Suddenly, he pulled out and flipped me over onto my back with a swift motion, his eyes blazing with an intense fire. Before I could catch my breath, he lifted my legs and positioned them over his shoulders again. 

I cried out in a mix of surprise and pleasure, the sensation more intense than before.

"You belong to me," he growled, his voice a rough whisper against my ear. Each word was punctuated by a powerful thrust that made my body quiver with anticipation and need. 

His hand moved between us, fingers finding that sensitive spot that made me see stars. The combination of his deep, forceful thrusts and the skilful touch of his fingers pushed me closer to the edge. My body responded to his every move, arching and trembling under his touch. 

"Daemon, I'm close," I managed to gasp out, feeling the tension coil tighter within me. 

He grunted in response, his movements becoming even more deliberate and intense. Each thrust seemed to drive deeper, each touch more insistent, pushing me to the brink of my endurance.

"Not yet," he growled, his voice rough and commanding, urging me to hold on. 

His fingers increased their pressure, skillfully prolonging the sweet agony, pushing me to the brink without allowing release. The frustration mixed with pleasure was almost unbearable, leaving me desperate for the climax he withheld.

My breath came in ragged gasps as he continued to thrust deeply, each movement perfectly synchronized with the expert touch of his fingers. 

The combination was maddening, every nerve ending alight with pleasure, teetering on the edge of an explosive climax. I could feel the heat building, threatening to consume me completely.

"Hold on for me," he urged, his voice a mix of demand and desire. 

His eyes bore into mine, the intensity of his gaze grounding me even as my body threatened to spiral out of control. "I want to feel you fall apart for me."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, the possessiveness in his tone amplifying the sensations coursing through me. I could feel myself teetering on the edge, desperate for release but held back by his firm control.

"Please," I whimpered, my voice barely a whisper as I struggled to hold on, every fibre of my being craving the sweet release he was denying me.

"Not yet," he repeated, his voice a rough whisper against my ear. The words were a command and a promise, urging me to surrender completely to the intensity of the moment. 

My body trembled, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until I thought I might shatter. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, a constant wave that left me breathless and on the verge of tears. 

Finally, just as I thought I could endure no more, he growled, "Now, let go."

His fingers pressed harder, his thrusts deepening, and the combination sent me spiralling over the edge. The release was explosive, a burst of pure ecstasy that left me gasping and crying out his name. My body convulsed every muscle tightening as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. 

He held me through it, his release following closely behind, a deep groan escaping his lips as he found his own climax. The intensity of our shared release left us both trembling, our bodies entwined and slick with sweat. 

In the aftermath, he pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me protectively. I nestled against him, my heart still racing, feeling a profound sense of belonging and security in his embrace.

"I'm going to fill you again and again until your stomach swells with my child," he murmured, his fingers gently stroking my hair. 

The promise in his words was both a threat and a vow, each syllable tinged with the raw possessiveness that had consumed us moments before.

As our breaths began to steady, he leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear. 

"Consider this a warning," he murmured, his voice still thick with dominance and passion. "If he ever mistakes your kindness for want, if he ever thinks he can have even a piece of you, I'll remind him exactly who you belong to."

His words sent a final shiver through me, the possessive edge in his tone leaving no room for doubt. I was his, completely and utterly, and there was nowhere else I would rather be. 

His hands continued to caress my skin, a tender contrast to the intensity of his words. Each touch was a reminder of his claim on me, a gentle yet unyielding assertion of his control.

At that moment, I knew that our bond was unbreakable, a fierce and consuming connection that no one else could touch. 

The possessive fire in his eyes, the raw passion in his touch, and the commanding presence of his voice all combined to make me feel utterly and completely claimed. 

"No mistakes will be made around here," I murmured softly, my voice carrying a quiet determination. He smirked, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. The gentle kiss he placed on my forehead told me everything I needed to know. 

I was his, and nothing and no one could ever change that. 

A/n - when in doubt, make sure your arguments are as intense as your make-up sessions!

[mapis-putellas]

Show off

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Reader

Words: 1400

Warnings: none

Summary: Alexia challenges you to a pull-up competition.

Notes: this was fun to write. Enjoy <3

[Prompt list]

"Amor, come on!" Alexia complains as she loops her arms around your waist and rests her chin against your shoulder, peppering your face with soft kisses.

You roll your eyes exasperatedly. "Ale, I've already said no. You only want to do it to prove how much stronger you are than me." You pat her hands placatingly as you step out of her arms to continue with folding the laundry.

"What? No. That is not the truth," she exclaims in mock offence as she clutches at her chest. "You have been practicing, yes? At the gym with mapi?"

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to face her. "Yes, I have. But it's been a week. How much progress do you think I would have been able to make in seven days, ale?"

Alexia shrugs as she easily lifts herself onto the counter, "I do not know. A lot?" She kicks her legs absently, ignoring the way you glare at her when her feet -clad in shoes might you add, hit the white cupboards below.

You sigh in relinquishment. "For you, maybe, but I'm very much a beginner. You, my love, are not."

"Sí, I know. But por favor, amor? For me?"

Alexia wasn't one to beg. In your three and a half year relationship, you think you’d only heard her do so a handful of times and the majority of those were in the bedroom. Otherwise, she could be very convincing when coaxing you into doing what she wants, so there was ultimately never any need for her to beg.

"Ale..." You trail off.

Alexia slides off of the counter, her feet landing on the floor with a soft thud. She makes her way over to you, large hands rising to cup your cheeks before leaning down and pressing her lips oh so tenderly against your own. You sigh on resignation as your own hands rise to rest on either side of her waist, fully aware that she had once again gotten her way.

A few moments later you pull away, eyes rolling when you were immediately met with a smirk.

"Okay. We can do a pull-up contest. But I have one condition." You warn.

Alexia nods seriously. "Sí, mi amor. Anything."

"Any teasing, smack talk or bragging, you're on the couch tonight. Understand?"

"Smack talk?" She tilts her head to the side.

You cup her face, tracing the pads of your thumbs beneath her eyes. "It's the act of criticizing another person. Which you will not do to me when you win."

Alexia immediately shakes her head as she takes your hands and places a gentle kiss to the insides of your wrist. "I will not bebé. Promise."

Prior experience has you want wanting to believe her, but figuring you would be nice and give her the benefit of the doubt, you let out a quiet sigh before begrudgingly nodding your head.

You can't help but laugh at the way her face lights up as she all but yanks you into her arms, your feet now dangling in the air as your hands clutch to the back of her shirt.

God, you were such a sucker.

"Okay, okay. When?" You breath, wiggling out of her arms before turning and placing the folded clothes into the laundry basket to be put away later. Or, well, whenever you get around to it if you were being completely honest with yourself. Probably sometime next week.

Your hand was immediately grabbed the second it was unoccupied, and you allow her to pull you out of the kitchen and towards her small home gym. There was a pull-up bar fixed to the doorframe, yoga mats and dumbbells in corner of the room along with many other pieces of equipment you’d yet to learn the names of.

"I will go first, amor," she pulls off her shirt leaving her in a black sports bra and red shorts. "You count, yes?"

Your eyes whip up from where they'd fallen down to her six pack, and you nod silently, watching as she smirks before raising her arms and grabbing onto the pull-up bar with ease. She was going before you could blink, arm muscles becoming more prominent as she lifts herself up and down like it was nothing.

Your eyes somehow seem to drift down to her six pack again on their own accord, and you decide it would probably be best to ignore her laugh so her ego didn't get any bigger than it already was.

She was back on the floor before you could even notice she was done, slightly out of breath as she rubs her hands together and makes her way over to you. Your eyes slowly climb up her body until they were staring into her own.

"Amor, did you count?" She reaches up and closes your mouth, and you flush heavily as you push her hand away and cross your arms against your chest. “You did not, did you?”

"Yes, I did." You feign your assertiveness a lot more confidently than you felt, and Alexia rolls her eyes knowingly as she nods her head in begrudging acceptance.

"How many?"

"Huh?”

“Pull-ups, bebé. How many?”

“Uhh…”

"Let's say, twenty, yes?" She grins, and you sigh dejectedly before nodding.

"Sure. Twenty." There was no way in hell you were going to be able to beat that. Seemingly having more confidence in you than you did in yourself, Alexia coaxes you over to the bar with a gentle hand on the small of your back.

"Ready?" She braces a hand on either side of your waist, and you take a deep breath before nodding and reaching up your arms. She lifts you with ease, making sure you had a good hold before rounding your body and standing a little in front of you.

Ignoring the fact your hands were beginning to burn already, you use all your strength and pull your chin up and over the bar with a quiet grunt.

"Sí. Muy bien bebé." Alexia praises, and you smile slightly as you once again pull yourself up and over the bar. You mange to repeat this three more times before your arms start to burn. Feeling a little pathetic at only being able to complete five pull-ups in comparison to Alexia’s

twenty, you grit your teeth and somehow manage to pull yourself up two before times before sending Alexia a look that says get me down.

Alexia steps forward and loops her dams beneath your behind immediately, and you let out a sigh of relief as you let go of the bar and rub your sore hands together.

Supporting your body with ease, Alexia looks up at you with a proud smile on her face. You can't help but mimic it as you circle your arms around her shoulders.

"Buena chica," she praises, leaning forward and kissing your chest. You flush just slightly. "I did not think you could do that many."

"It was only seven." You shrug.

"No no." Alexia shakes her head as she bounces you up slightly to get a better grip, your legs now hooked around her bare waist. "How many could you do before?"

"One, I think?" you struggle to recall the specific number due to Mapi yelling at you. Carry on chica. You got this! Use those chicken arms! You’d been quite offended honestly.

“Maybe two?" You doubt yourself.

"Exactamente! And you did seven today. That is five more, no? You are getting strong." She grasps your bicep between her hand and gives it a squeeze, making you laugh quietly as your own hands tangle through the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

"Soon I'll be stronger than you." You muse, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.

"No, amor," Alexia states seriously, and you tilt your head to the side. "No one is as strong as me."

"Oh, is that so?" You laugh, and Alexia grins smugly as she makes her way back over to the pull-up bar. You stare at her in confusion, aware she was up to something but not knowing what.

"Hold on tight." Is all she says in place of an explanation, and you can't help but yelp when she lets you go and reaches for the bar above you both.

Complying and wrapping your body completely around her own as tight as you physically could, you stare gobsmacked as she begins doing pulls-up with the same ease as before.

"Show off." You grumble, Alexia's laugh echoing around the room.

**

Tags:

@simp4panos @girlgenius1111 @goldenempyrean @codiemarin

[adragonthatwrites]

I feel like we don't give Binghe enough credit, at least in regards to squaring him up against Bingge.

It seems like people will see that Binghe is more open with his emotions (being willing to cry, pout, smile, laugh etc.) and call him 'soft' or even 'weak' in comparison to Bingge.

It's like people forget; Binghe was actually formally trained by his Shizun and peak, something Bingge wasn't. He also went through the same challenges in the endless abyss, but overcame them much faster; years faster in fact! And he possesses the same level of strength and skill.

Remember, when they met in the extra, they were perfectly matched; neither able to beat the other. And the moment Shen Qingqiu stepped in; the instant even a little bit of outside interference got involved in Binghe's favor, he won.

It didn't take much for Binghe to ultimately win that fight; just one extra person to tip the scales in his favor, and he had Bingge beat.

He's as strong, capable and deadly as Bingge, and I'd even argue he's stronger; not physically, but simply because he has a lot more worth fighting for.

You fight harder, more viciously, and for longer when you have something worth fighting for, and because of that I honestly think Binghe would ultimately win in a one-on-one against his counterpart. He's not weak because he cries; I'd even say he's stronger because of it.

[pucksandpower]

Charles Leclerc x CEO!Reader - Social Media AU

Formula 1 News: Everything We Know About Arnault Racing So Far

The team is owned by LVMH, the world’s leading luxury goods company, and is named after the prominent Arnault family, which includes LVMH’s chief operating officer Y/N Arnault, wife of Charles Leclerc. Y/N is the youngest daughter of Bernard Arnault, the world’s richest man, and is said to be his favored successor.

They are expected to benefit from the extensive resources and expertise of LVMH which boasts a diverse portfolio of luxury brands such as Louis Vuitton, Christian Dior, Moët & Chandon, TAG Heuer, and Tiffany & Co. These assets could potentially provide Arnault Racing with a competitive edge on and off the track in a sport heavily reliant on business dealings.

As with any new team, Arnault Racing will face numerous challenges including building a strong technical staff, securing talented drivers, and establishing partnerships with sponsors and suppliers. However, the backing of LVMH’s vast resources and the Arnault family’s commitment to success bode well for their prospects.

While no official announcement has been made regarding Charles Leclerc’s involvement with Arnault Racing, his familial connection to the team coupled with his recent decision to step away from Scuderia Ferrari has fueled rumors and heightened interest in whether he will be part of Arnault Racing’s driver lineup … (Read more)

Press Conference of Arnault Racing CEO, Y/N Arnault, and Team Principal, Sebastian Vettel

REPORT Arnault Racing snags Adrian Newey: CEO Y/N Arnault says “whatever arbitrary figure you have in your head, triple it and that’s how much we offered him” (Aug 2023)

NEWS Red Bull loses LVMH-owned sponsor TAG Heuer as entry of Arnault Racing brings new conflict of interest (Dec 2023)

UPDATE A weekend of team bonding on the beach after the car launch? Charles Leclerc and Mick Schumacher talk about flourishing environment at Arnault Racing (Feb 2024)

FEATURE What to expect from Arnault Racing — data from preseason testing explained (Feb 2024)

REPORT Podiums and points: a strong start to the season for newcomers Arnault Racing (Mar 2024)

FEATURE The Prince that was promised: Charles Leclerc triumphs in Monaco (May 2024)

UPDATE Who are the ‘losers’ and ‘winners’ halfway through the season? Arnault closes in on Red Bull as Ferrari falls behind (Jul 2024)

FEATURE What could have been — Arnault’s Charles Leclerc tops the podium in Monza as Tifosi look on (Sep 2024)

NEWS Red Bull’s reign continues as Arnault brings home historic P2 in both the Drivers’ and Contructors’ championship during debut season (Nov 2024)

REPORT Arnault promises more competitive 2025 season following already impressive first year on the grid (Jan 2025)

“We find ourselves at the edge of our seats here in Abu Dhabi. It all comes down to this final lap of the season and the battle for the World Championship has reached its peak! Charles Leclerc of Arnault and Max Verstappen of Red Bull are locked in a fierce duel for the ultimate prize.”

“This is the moment every racing fan has been waiting for. The atmosphere here is electric and the stakes couldn’t be higher. Leclerc and Verstappen have been pushing the absolute limits of their cars and their skills throughout this intense race.”

“They certainly have. Both drivers have showcased their exceptional talent and determination all season long. It’s a clash of titans, and now, as they approach the final corners, it’s do-or-die time.”

“Leclerc has been holding onto the lead for the majority of this race but Verstappen is focused in his pursuit. The Dutchman is determined to wrestle this championship away from Leclerc’s grasp.”

“The tension is palpable here as they enter the final sector. Leclerc seems to be holding his ground but Verstappen is right on his tail, looking for the slightest opportunity to strike!”

“This is nail-biting stuff. The championship hangs in the balance as they approach the final turn. Leclerc takes a defensive line but Verstappen moves to the inside. He’s desperately trying to overtake!”

“Verstappen is side-by-side with Leclerc! They’re wheel-to-wheel! What an incredible battle! They both accelerate out of the corner …”

“They’re neck and neck! It’s an all-out sprint to the checkered flag. Who will emerge victorious?”

“Leclerc finds another gear! He edges ahead of Verstappen!”

“It’s a photo finish! They cross the line. And ... it’s Charles Leclerc! Charles Leclerc has done it! Charles Leclerc is the World Champion!”

“What an incredible end to the season. Charles Leclerc and Arnault Racing have taken the championship title in a heart-stopping finale!”

“This is the stuff of legends. Leclerc has proven himself a champion through and through today. The emotion in the Arnault Racing garage is indescribable!”

“What an amazing moment for Leclerc and his team. This race will be remembered for years to come. Congratulations to Charles Leclerc! Congratulations to Arnault Racing!”

y/narnault

Liked by charles_leclerc, arnaultracing, and 938,572 others

y/narnault ✨ Abu Dhabi, 2017 ✨

A chance encounter in the paddock with a hotshot young driver sent us both sprawling to the ground and ignited a spark that changed our lives forever. Our love story began in Yas Marina as Charles celebrated the end of the season after winning the F2 championship. Little did we know that this would be the start of a remarkable journey, both on and off the track

Fast forward to ...

✨ Abu Dhabi, 2025 ✨

As the CEO of Arnault Racing, it fills my heart with immense pride to witness our immensely talented driver win a much deserved World Drivers' Championship. As the wife of Charles Leclerc, it makes me even prouder to see the most amazing person I know finally be granted the fruit of his labors. There has been no sweeter feeling than chasing our dreams hand-in-hand

Eight years later, in Yas Marina once again, our journey came full circle. Our love, like a well-oiled machine, has only grown stronger with each challenge we faced. Working together as a team, we transformed dreams into reality and surpassed every limit. The joy of victory, the adrenaline of the race — it all pales in comparison to the love and support we share

To our extraordinary team at Arnault Racing, thank you for your relentless commitment and tireless efforts. Each one of you has played a vital role in making history this season and we truly could not have done it without you

Charles, my champion, you continue to inspire me every day with your talent, dedication, and resilient spirit. The road here has not always been easy but I am thankful for every obstacle we faced because they made us grow as people and as partners in both love and racing. We have weathered the storms and celebrated the triumphs. The countless hours of hard work, sacrifice, and pouring over data for so long that we forgot the cookies burning in the oven brought us to this extraordinary moment of victory. But beyond the increasingly crowded trophy cases and roaring crowds, it is our love that always shines the brightest. No matter where we may have placed in the standings, I was always content in knowing that we are P1 on the podium of life — and now we stand on top of both together

This chapter is just beginning. There are still many races left to win, many trophies left to raise, and many championships left to clinch

View all 2,614 comments

charles_leclerc From the moment we met, you have seen me not just as a driver or public figure but as a person with hopes, dreams, and flaws. You have been there for me through the setbacks and the victories and your faith in me never has wavered. Your belief in me pushed me to be the best version of myself and I will spend the rest of our lives eternally grateful for being sent such an angel. Our victories are not only measured by the number of trophies or the applause of the crowds but in the quiet moments we get to bask in the life we built together. Our love has always been the beacon that guides me, even in the darkest of times. It is the constant reminder that no matter where we stand in the standings, we have each other to lean on. I have no doubt that it is because of you that I stand here today. You are my pillar of strength, my constant motivation, and my rock. Without your love and support, none of this would have been possible. Thank you, mon amour, for believing in me, for supporting me, and for always standing by my side. It is fate that brought us together and destiny that irreversibly wove our hearts into one

f1wagupdates you two are singlehandedly keeping my belief in true love alive

formulanone how are they still in the honeymoon phase after eight years together and i can’t even get a text back?

arnaultracing there are power couples and then there is THE power couple 🤩

GQ France: An Interview with 2025 Formula 1 World Champion Charles Leclerc

charles_leclerc and y/narnault

Liked by arnaultracing, pierregasly, and 1,854,632 others

charles_leclerc Baby Leclerc will make their F1 debut in August 🍼

View all 3,927 comments

pierregasly hmmm i wonder what happened a little over nine months before the due date?

mickschumacher no wonder we couldn’t find them during the championship party 😳

arnaultracing a championship baby for our champions 🏆

lovelyleclerc oh to be reincarnated as their baby

leclercbabe it’s really getting gifted godly genes, money, and talent 😭

princecharles is it bad that i’m jealous of a baby that hasn’t even been born yet?

[targaryen-dynasty]

YOU‘RE THE ONLY THING I PRAY FOR. (1/3)

Daemon Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT — MINORS DNI; NON/DUB-CON, canon typical incest/targcest (uncle & niece), blasphemy, taking of virginity, female reader

WORDS: 4.6 K

NOTES: Part 1 is here! At the anon that has requested it: thank you so much for this. I hope it lives up to your expectations.

Daylight has first appeared when you break your fast, completely dressed and ready to start the day by paying a visit to the Grand Sept. It’s one of the rare days the queen does not accompany you for your morning prayer as her queenly duties have called for her even before the first light. But you bask in the rare solitude her absence grants, looking forward to the time you get to spend all by yourself. 

A carriage waits for you as you walk down the steps of the Red Keep leading into the courtyard, the door already opened and a servant anticipating for you to get in. 

“And where might you be going so quickly?” You know the voice that pierces through the silence of the morning, and are not surprised when you turn around to spot your uncle approaching. He’s clad in a white tunic and black breeches, looking as though he has just gotten out of bed.

Bobbing a small curtsy, the slight bow of your head does little to hide the surge of warmth that spreads to your cheeks, trying to suppress the nervous smile his presence always coaxes from you. 

It could be mere happenstance that you two meet right when you’re about to leave the keep, but something deep inside of you tells you he’s more than familiar with your morning routine. 

“I was just heading to the sept to pray, uncle,” you reply, your eyes locking with his as he creeps closer. 

The smirk that grazes his features at your words sends a shiver down your spine because it doesn’t mean any good; it never means any good. “And what is it that you pray for exactly, sweet niece?” he asks in a playful tone, raising a brow. His head cocks to the side, and he sizes you up briefly. “Does a princess such as you pray for love? Pray for a husband?” 

Despite the rush of embarrassment you feel when he makes his comments, you can’t deny the truth in them. “I pray for many things…” you trail off, pressing your lips into a thin line and contemplating if you should elaborate further. But the ultimate act of piety is to be honest, genuine, and you know it’ll surprise him more than a snappish remark. “I pray for the love of my family, as well as my own. Though I must admit that what I pray for most is to be married one day, and provide my husband with a healthy heir.” 

He must have noticed the way your eyes trail up and down his tall frame throughout your little lecture, despite you having your neck craned to meet his gaze, because his brow doesn’t seem to lower at all, staying in its exact position as he’s seemingly impressed by your words and your honesty. However, there’s also a pregnant pause following them, and you brace yourself for whatever taunting or derogatory comment might follow. 

“Might I join you?” 

The question catches you off guard, and causes you to tilt your head sideways. 

Pious isn’t a term you would use to describe your uncle. If he believed in anything, he’d merely worship the Gods of Old Valyria and would not follow the Faith of the Seven. Nevertheless, you’re thrilled he even considers accompanying you to the Grand Sept, because you’re certain he’s never seen it from inside. 

“I would be honored by you joining me, uncle,” you say, smiling softly. “I would not have to pray alone.”

“It would please me greatly, niece.” His eyes run over your form, lingering a little longer on your middle, clearly taking in your curves and attire. The dress you wear is completely different to the ones your younger sister usually wears, and comes closer to the gowns the queen dons nowadays. It’s modest and covers you completely, basically from head to toe. 

Mayhaps that’s where he sees the challenge. 

You briefly nod your head, and take his hand as he offers to help you into the carriage, climbing the steps before sitting down on one of the upholstered seats. You make note of how warm and unexpectedly smooth his hand is when you let go of it, having expected it to be calloused and somewhat rough from all the riding on dragon back and training with the sword he does. 

Daemon takes his seat next to you, and it’s evident you have all of his attention with him not tearing his eyes off of you once. What you don’t know is that he’s always found a liking in you. You’re sweet and innocent, demure even, and the complete opposite to Rhaenyra. 

More oft than not you make your uncle feel as though you really do not deserve an unvirtuous man such as himself, just as your father has told him back when Daemon had asked him to grant him your hand in marriage. You’re a girl that has never taken a man’s touch before, innocent in both mind and body – a vision obviously tantalizing to many men of court.

He looks over you once more. You feel his gaze burning into your skin regardless of how badly you focus on what you see passing on the outside of the wheelhouse, and you can’t deny that you would love nothing more than to learn of what’s occupying his mind. 

The ride to the sept isn’t too long, and shared in silence thick with tension. When the carriage comes to a stop and a servant opens the door, you rise from your seat and climb down the steps. Your hands are clasped in front of your body on the way into the Grand Sept, closely followed by the looming presence of your uncle. 

And you immediately feel at peace when you walk through the heavy doors held open by several guards, breathing in the scent of incense and relishing in the quiet it brings. Though there is no reason for you to feel flustered with the company of your uncle, having grown up around him, your heart still feels as though it beats too fast, pounding against the confines of your ribcage. 

The truth is, you have not prayed for any husband – you have prayed for him to become your husband. And every single one of your prayers resolved around the wish for him to join you some day. The Grand Sept is your home port, giving you a sense of safety and being the place you always return to. And what could be better than sharing this feeling with the person your heart and body long for?

You nod subtly toward the few septas and novices that cross your path on the way to the large stone altar in the center of the sept, attempting to not draw too much attention to you and the prince that trails closely behind. 

Rolling one of the thin vestas between your index finger and thumb, you carefully set it alight with a candle that’s already lit before you proceed to light your own. The small piece of wood is extinguished with a soft blow of air, and you brush your fingers over the sheet of wax that covers the gray marble beneath, watching the sea of lights in front of you. 

“Have you been in the sept before, uncle?” you ask, innocently. It might seem like a witless question, but is completely fair considering you have never really seen him pray before. 

You are not oblivious to just how different you are from your own kin, for neither your father, uncle nor sister frequent the sept, let alone pray before they break their fast or eat their supper. 

When they’d ask you, you’d say that the contrast between you and Daemon is the most blatant, closely followed by the differences you and Aemond have. Though your younger half-brother, more oft than not, resolves to praying, you know it’s just to please his devout mother. 

If anything, you most resemble Alicent, despite not sharing the same blood with her. She has taken you under her wing as your mother died birthing your late brother, strengthening your very being with her own faith. 

Daemon chuckles at your question, following after you to the stone altar. It’s an easy game for him to pretend to be pious, having resorted to colder measures many times before. “I will admit that I do not frequent the sept as much as you. It’s just…,” he trails off, looking around the room and taking in the architecture. “... not exactly to my liking. I much prefer the worship of the Old Gods of Valyria.” 

Just like you have thought. It’s tempting to worship and follow the customs your very ancestors have set up and believed in, bringing you closer to what ties you to the family whose love you always pray for. But where were these Gods when you needed them most?

“But doesn’t everyone in King’s Landing worship the Seven? Do you not think them worthy of your devotion?” you ask, cocking a brow as you slowly sink to your knees. You still look up at him, but already fold your hands to prepare for the prayer. 

Daemon watches you carefully, no, he blatantly stares at you, taking you in and watching you on your knees from his level of height. It’s exciting, to say the least. “Oh, I do not consider them unworthy, they have been worshipped in Westeros for centuries, but you can not expect me to deny my heritage, niece.”

It’s your heritage as well, and it includes the customs that would allow for you to wed the man you have always longed for. That is, if you were not betrothed already. 

The marriage to Jason Lannister, like your father has requested, is the most fitting option, you know. It’s no match made out of love but rather a political arrangement, and doesn’t heed your own wishes. 

He’s no more a man that deserves you than your uncle, though the prospect and thoughts of marrying Daemon do excite you more. Perhaps this excitement stems from the suppressed desire of wanting the opposite of your pious nature, something that would make you feel alive as much as riding Silverwing does. 

But your uncle isn’t interested in taking you to wife. His late wife died a few moons ago, and if someone has always had his attention and favor, it’s your younger sister, Rhaenyra. 

Flashing you a tight-lipped smile, he approaches one of the pews close to the altar and sits down. You focus on the candles in front of you and fix the flames of them to watch them dance, calming you down and bringing you back to the matter at hand; your morning prayer. 

But under the intensity of his stare, you find it incredibly difficult to focus on your wishes and steady your thoughts, and you rely on the Seven for their guidance. The direction in which your thoughts stray is improper and silently proscribed by the people of the realm, and you haven’t spent all of these mornings in the sept to let it all go to waste with the foolish wish to follow your House's customs. 

Lowering your head, you quietly speak your prayers and plead for the Seven to see you in good favor before them despite the sins that may come upon you in the future. 

Your uncle, on the other hand, only now realizes that this is the best time he could wish for to get you alone, all by yourself with no one to interrupt. And as the wait for you to finish your prayers doesn’t stop to pass agonizingly slowly, he’s overtaken by his urges and begins to quietly approach you. 

You’re in the midst of your prayer when you feel a sudden presence in your space. Opening your eyes, you spot him sinking down on his knees right next to you, his broad shoulder brushing yours in the process, pressing against your frame. 

He’s so close to you that you feel the warmth emanating from him despite the layers of clothing. “You have been so faithful to the Seven,” he whispers with a rasp, keeping his eyes neatly trained on you. “It is only right that they finally grant you something in return…”

There are goosebumps prickling on your skin at his words, the sensation even raising the hairs on the back of your neck. 

Despite growing up around him, you have never shared such close proximity with him before, at least not since you can remember. It feels so intimate, and the way in which he speaks makes it more than obvious that it’s plain profanity. 

Daemon is clearly taking advantage of your piety, and twists your words and beliefs into something much more impure. 

But it seems that your body renders what your mind doesn't. It knows what he is up to even before you can grasp it, and you suddenly notice the uncomfortable way your smallclothes cling to the apex of your legs, a cold moisture making the linen sticky. 

You can’t speak, far too absorbed in his presence, and barely notice that he’s slowly inching towards you, until the tips of your noses brush against each other. 

Daemon is not moving closer, basking you in a sense of feigned superiority that gives you the impression that you’re the one in control. If you’re about to kiss, it’s because you want to do so, at least he’s making you think that. But by the Seven, how badly you want to kiss him. 

You’re the one to close the gap between you and press your lips firmly to his. You feel the warmth of them against yours, and are overtaken by a haze. You have never expected this to be the result of your joint visit to the Grand Sept, and you feel as though you're melting with a jolt of heat – until a cloud of panic washes over you. 

Pulling back with a gasp, you topple over on your arse, grateful for the space it puts between the two of you. You bring your fingers to your lips, touching them as if you mean to prolong the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“I-I do not wish to be a prude, but…” you try to deny his advances. You don’t know where to look, eyes frantically flickering to the ground, the ceiling, and even checking if anyone is around to see what has happened. 

Daemon licks his lips with a sigh, and you see him contemplating his next moves, the silence making your heart pound in your ears. “You’re a pious woman,” he raps, or rather just states the obvious. 

And then he slowly stalks closer again, only to bury a large hand in the hair at the back of your head, using the grip to bring you closer to him again. “Why have the Gods made me love a pious woman?” 

You’re holding onto his shoulders, not sure if you want to draw him impossibly closer or push him away. Your wide eyes carefully study his features, before he leans in and starts to press kisses to the side of your face that leave you whimpering and mewling.

Daemon has his strong arms wrapped around your frame to pull you flush against his chest now, and you’re squirming and panting, trying to get away from him while his hands make quick work of pulling and tearing at the skirts of your dress already. 

“Un-Uncle… not here, please,” you try to protest. 

He brings a hand to your cheek, turning your face so it’s easier for him to capture your lips in a heated kiss again. It takes all the strength you can muster to pull away from him, not just physically, but mentally. The long suppressed part in you is at an all time high, aching for nothing else than him. 

“We-We can’t,” you stammer, completely out of breath. “Not here.”

“I do not see why not, niece,” he all but growls. “Do you not want the Seven to witness how I worship you?”

The words make your face grow hot. The thought of the Seven watching over you is taboo and wrong, but it also makes it a lot more exciting. It has been an idea you have long desired, and to hear it spoken out loud from his own lips makes a thrill of excitement course through your veins. 

“B-But I-I have never–” your voice is reduced to a whimper, the despair audible.

Daemon paws at your hips, and brings his face closer to press open mouthed kisses to the side of your neck. “I will worship you in a way they have never experienced, I can promise you that,” his husky voice is muffled by your skin, and all you can do is blush in return. 

He backs you against the column of the altar behind you, trapping you so he can use both his hands to snake beneath your gown and tear at the linen undergarments you wear, reducing the barrier that stands between him and his most prized possession. 

“Uncle, Daemon, please… the sept is not the right place for this.”

“I'll decide where I take you,” he growls once again. It’s the first time your name slips past his lips today, spoken in such a condescending manner that immediately makes you bow to his will. “And if I wanted to take your maidenhead right in front of your father, then so be it.”

You push at his chest, but at the same time melt against his sturdy frame when his lips claim yours. The fabric of his tunic is pinched so tightly between your fingers that your knuckles start to blanch from the force, acting as the means to an end to distract you from the shame you feel at giving into him so easily. 

Daemon bows his head forwards to nuzzle his nose along your cheek, his breath hot as he speaks. “You’re such a dutiful woman, always praying for a husband and a life filled with children. Why not pray for me? Would that not be the most honorable of outcomes?”

You can’t think for yourself, swept up by his words, his charms and his possessiveness. He’s brought you to the edge, and you can’t find yourself able to resist. 

“Uncle, I–”  

“Be quiet,” he cuts you off. 

So lost in his overwhelming presence, you hardly register him undoing the laces in the front of his breeches, only just lowering them enough for him to free his hard cock. Once that’s done, he lays you onto the cold floor, and positions himself between your legs, which brings you close enough to his cock to feel it prodding against your cunt. 

You can’t breathe, not when you’re basically smothered by his weight, pinning you down to the ground and not allowing you to move. There’s no chance for you to meet his gaze, for he’s far too distracted to keep his eyes locked on one position only. 

“You’re a dragon, sweet niece,” he grunts. “That cunt of a Lannister would not know how to handle it… let me take care of you.”

You release a shuddered breath when the tip of his cock meets the resistance of your tightness, forcing your body to go rigid. But despite that, Daemon is able to ease himself inside of you. It takes him a few seconds to fill you to the brim, taking his sweet time to allow you to adjust to each other. 

And you sure do. 

He pushes inside at an agonizingly slow pace, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein of his cock. When his hips are still, your tight walls slowly accommodate his impressive size. But even then Daemon already knows he can’t keep this up for long, for your cunt is squeezing him so tightly, he is sure he’ll spend himself too quickly for his own liking. 

It takes you a moment, but as you feel him twitching, briefly brushing the sensitive spot inside of you, your stiff muscles seem to thaw. You arch your back against him, melting into the warmth that radiates off him. 

A quiet whine leaves your lips that prompts him to meet your gaze. “That’s it,” Daemon coos softly, a slight strain in his husky voice. He brings a hand behind your head to support it and make it a bit more comfortable for you, lifting it off the hard ground. 

Bowing his head forwards, he captures your lips in a gentle kiss. It is languid, tender even, but doesn’t lack any passion. There’s a burning inside of you, and you feel completely filled to the brim, yet it’s not as uncomfortable as the first few seconds have been. 

Perhaps it’s the possibility of being caught by your own kin or other nobles, or being defiled by him so openly, but you can’t seem to get enough. No, you don’t even mind if anyone sees you, not when all you’ve prayed for finally comes true. 

“I thought you were a pious maiden,” he rasps, immediately giving in to the pleasure and his urges, “not one that enjoys sin as much as this.” 

Though your face is contorted in both pleasure and slight discomfort, you keep your eyes open and locked with his, carefully studying his face. “I–I think the Seven would want me to be happy… would they not?” you don’t state it, you ask, silently needing his reassurance and asking for guidance. 

As he notices the hidden meaning behind your words, he flashes you a sly grin, a chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Oh, I believe as much.” 

Daemon starts to thrust into you, coaxing one whiny moan after the other from your parted lips. The pace is slow, and you can tell by the way he has his jaw set that it takes a whole lot of restraint for him to keep it that way. You know he’s an experienced man, having heard lots of stories about him and his conquests, and you appreciate him practicing patience with you. 

“Fuck, I-... you were made for me,” he groans against the side of your face, merely propped up on his forearms to not put too much weight on you. The feeling of his breath fanning over your skin, and the sounds he makes vibrating against it, ignite a fire in your veins you haven’t felt before. 

“You were always meant to be mine, but your father is too dull to see it.” Light kisses trail over your jaw and the side of your neck, meaning he can’t see the color his words bring to your cheeks. 

Entangling your fingers in his short, silver strands, you just rest your hand there to keep yourself grounded, until one particular thrust that seems a bit rougher than the others has you eventually tugging on the tresses not-so-gently. The action pulls his head back and exposes his throat to you, and it’s far too enticing to not to lean in and press your lips to the bump in the front of it. Daemon groans at that, and, in response to his cock twitching and throbbing inside of you, your walls clench around him. 

You haven’t been touched by a man before, even rarely by yourself, and thus you’re not quite familiar with the pressure that builds inside of your body. It has the grip of your legs around his waist tightening and your toes curling, but other than that you’re not quite sure what to expect. 

“Good girl, taking me so well,” he grunts, spurred on by the way your walls squeeze and choke his cock, clearly knowing you’re close to your peak. His praise goes straight to your head, and you whimper in return, stammering a ‘th-thank you, uncle.’

“Wet my cock, little niece, make a mess for me,” he all but commands, a dominant edge to his voice that has you shivering. 

Far too lost in the pleasure his body grants you, you hardly notice him driving his hips into yours with more fervor and determination, an approving ‘mhhh’ and stutters of his name escaping your lips. 

It probably is a vague guess, but Daemon’s mouth claims yours with newfound hunger as your peak washes over you in an ambush, effectively drinking down every wanton moan and whimper that has threatened to leave them. 

Something akin to fire spreads through your veins which prompts your leg to tremble uncontrollably, locking around his waist. Your walls flutter and convulse all over him, and white, hot pleasure clouds your vision. 

Only when the tremors slowly subside does your uncle tilt his head back. He watches you in awe, studying the drowsy expression on your face though the pistoning of his hips hasn’t stopped. And he won’t stop, not even when you’re no more than a quivering and whimpering mess beneath him, and you’re very close to turning into one. 

He cups your chin, pinning your head to the ground as he increases the pace of his thrusts again, using your relaxed state to chase his own peak. 

It feels overwhelming, a different kind of aching suddenly burning between your legs, and you try to squirm away, but his grip on you is as adamant as he’s relentless. 

“I shall spill myself inside of you,” he grunts, “would you like that? Do you want my seed in your belly?” 

All you can whimper are incoherent words, but are still aware enough to not be too loud. Daemon takes the benefit of the doubt and settles on a whiny yes, far too enticed by the thought of you going round with his child. 

He can’t hold himself back any longer with the repercussions of your peak driving him to his own, practically bursting as he spills his seed. His hips falter as he topples over the edge, his twitching member spending itself deep inside of your quivering walls. 

But there’s not really any time for you two to dwell in the bliss, not when Daemon gathers himself so quickly to get back on his feet. He fixes his attire, straightening his tunic and redoing the laces of his breeches before he helps you up.

You perturbedly look around, breathing heavily, and smooth out the skirts of your dress. Being unsteady on your feet, you shift your weight from one leg to the other and grimace at the wetness that spreads between your thighs at the lack of smallclothes to gather it. His seed seeps from your swollen cunt down your flushed skin and makes you overly aware of the claim he has asserted over you.  

You’re too stunned to speak, your mouth opening and closing without any words leaving your lips. Knowing he was a rogue, you would have never thought of your uncle doing such things, even less of yourself. 

“I-I–” 

“We will keep this between us,” Daemon interrupts, figuring what’s plaguing your mind. 

The act of sin between you two has been so improper, and you’re certain your father would force you to become a Silent Sister if the word of your act would spread around court. So, it’s slightly calming to know you can rely on your uncle to protect your reputation and care for your safety. 

You nod and swallow thickly. “I-I hope so?” 

The silence between you in the carriage on your way back to the Red Keep is thick with tension, and though Daemon helps you climb down the steps before he leaves to attend his princely duties, something does not sit right with you. 

And only when you hear a knock on your chamber’s door around the Hour of the Owl do you figure that the feeling was right. Maester Mellos stands opposite of you, a goblet whose content is unknown in his hand. He hands it over, and you feel your blood run cold at his words. 

“A tea, princess. From the king. It will rid you of any unwanted consequences.”

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