#with the king raging for his happy ending ……..

[talesfromawannabewriter]

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

Adam bit down on those feelings as they turned into something much worse.

Hatred.

He hated Lucifer at that moment. He hated more than words could tell. He hated that he hurt him over and over again.

First he stole his first wife, then he manipulated Eve and ended getting them kicked out of Eden.

After that his life was just one pain from the next. He had to toil the Earth and his children suffered.

There were times he would have to go days without food for his little ones to eat. But it would be for not for some of them never made it past their sixth birthday.

His two boys, his Cain and Abel, the latter never saw past his eighteenth birthday and his eldest he would never see after that day.

Not even through the pearly gates.

Yet here this bastard was, as happy as a clown as he held a healthy child who he no doubt sired from that whore.

Adam needed to quench his pain. Usually he did so with bountiful food.

But now?

Now his appetite had changed and he was starved for the blood of sinners.

Wielding his ax he delivered a fatal blow to a demon’s skull.

On this day it would be known as the most Adam had killed in his lifetime.

--

Lucifer twiddled his thumb nervously as Adam droned on with his report about the number of souls exterminated this year. From the moment he stepped through the door, he could tell that something was wrong with the first man.

He was angry, more so than usual. This was a hidden rage that he couldn't quite explain.

But he knew that his Adam was hurting, his human was in pain. Lucifer wanted nothing more than to take it away.

So, when Adam had ended his report, he spoke up.

Lucifer: Adam, are you alright?

Adam: I'm fine.

Lucifer: Yeah, and I'm the king of the goblins. Seriously though, what's wrong?

Adam: It's none of your concern and even if it was you don't actually give a damn.

Lucifer felt his brows furrow, where was this coming from?

Lucifer: Yes I do!

Adam: Like actual Hell you do Lucifer!

Lucifer: Adam, I care about you, your mind, and your soul with all my heart!

Adam stood up suddenly, causing the chair he was sitting on to fall harshly onto the floor: BULLSHIT!!!!! IF YOU GAVE A SINGLE DAMN ABOUT ME THEN YOU WOULDN'T HURT ME LIKE YOU DO!!!!

Lucifer: I never meant to hurt you Adam I swear on my life! Taking Lilith, tempting Eve they were all just.....they just happened!!

Adam: Was bringing sin into the world and the suffering of my children's things that just happened!?

Lucifer: No, I, I....

Adam: What did I ever do to make you hate me so much?

The sight of tears springing forth from the first man's eyes forced the devil to stand up and rush to his human's side.

Lucifer: Adam, please understand that I in no way shape or form hate you. I, I, I love you.

He said it with complete authenticity and spoke with his heart in his mouth. Hoping that finally Adam would see the truth.

But unfortunately, for the devil the first man had been through so much that his hardened heart couldn't believe a single word that left Lucifer's lips.

He would allow no more heartbreak from the snake.

Adam: Well, that's unfortunate because I do not like you.

With that Adam summoned a portal and left the king all to his lonesome. His words seemed to have echoed over and over as loudly as they can even as the room was completely silent.

Keep you for Myself

inspired by @libby-for-life and @lilacwriter07. Thanks for sharing your vision on a completely psychotic Lucifer obsessed with his human.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

Lucifer whistled himself a happy tune as he flew down from the Heavens to his most favorite place in all of the cosmos.

The garden of Eden.

But it wasn’t the landscape itself that he was drawn to but rather who resided within there.

Adam

Lucifer’s cherished human. The one who made his heart stop altogether when he saw him for the very first time.

He was so adorable with all that dirt on him as he stared at everything with wonder and curiosity.

When their eyes met for the very first time Lucifer knew that they were meant to be.

If only Adam realized it too.

At first Adam had welcomed his presence and place in his life as a guardian angel and best friend.

They would spend hours and hours keeping the other company as they went about the garden discovering and naming every single thing.

He especially loved watching his human try each new fruit for the first time. His face he made as he bit down into it was just so precious.

He barely left the first man’s side each time he went down to Eden. Not wanting to leave him for even a second.

At first Adam didn’t seem to mind it. But lately he had noticed that Adam had been a little distant.

Not by much but just enough that it caused concern within the angel of music.

Maybe what the apple of his eye needed was a reminder of how much he was loved and cherished by the seraphim.

He had his gift ready to be delivered to him the moment he saw him. Adam loved to sing and make music. He doubt that he wouldn’t fall in love with this.

Lucifer landed on the soft green grass on top of a hill and immediately called out for his human.

Lucifer: Addy! Where are you?

Immediately he went on a search for him. Meanwhile in a cave nearby deep within the confines of the rocky home was none other than the first man himself.

Who upon hearing the voice of the angel grimaced.

[smoky-solitude]

ROTE Springfest during the Trojan War

Happy Springfest beloveds! For @springfest-rote, I have been paired with the wonderful @impiousgherkin to create a Trojan War ROTE fanwork! Raph created FOUR phenomenal works of art in three different styles, enthusiastically supported the writing of all the scenes we thought of (nine or so scenes and 11.3k words), and encouraged a darker fic overall.

Like ROTE, the Iliad is focused on the struggle between fate and free will, the social obligation of kings to protect their people, the strong emotions of an unreliable narrator, and the relationship between this heroic fighter and his social-justice-oriented not-a-fighter soulmate.

There will be exhaustion, blood, and gore. There will be death. There will be a Trojan Dragon.

Check out The Ballad of Beloved. Summary;

“Pelides,” they cheered for me. Peleus’s son. “Aristos Achaion,” they screamed, best of the Achaeans, best of the Greeks. Sometimes, they chanted the name my parents gave me, “Achilleos.” In the cacophony of voices, it shortened and blurred, their impatient tongues gliding the vowels together. Even if they had slowed their speech, it would not have been my name, for I had been granted a truer one over a decade ago, when my mouth first graced his in the rocky meadow by Chiron’s cave. A retelling of the Iliad where Fitz is Achilles and Beloved is Patroclus. The war has raged on this beach for ten years with no sign of ending. Contains references (and spoilers) to the Farseer trilogy and Tawny Man trilogy.

There will also be other tumblr posts about the various characters, naming decisions, and ancient greek culture. I'll link these here as I post them: 1. Spoiler-ridden dramatis personae 2. Chade's POV for the morning of the Trojan Dragon 3. Misogyny in Mycenaean Greece 4. Homophobia in Mycenaean Greece 5. Maybe a post on transgenderism in Mycenaean Greece

[lanternlightss]

Silly doodle I made based on the tags you left on the ask answer (in case it’s visually confusing the bottom textbox is read first)

(decarabian design by @gr3yart because both this design and the king have longass hair and “hide” their face in some way)

I was originally imagining if those two ever met, the king would be a similar height to how he was at (act 5? act 6? the point at which you actually defeat him for good and he’s frozen in time) and he’s tall but not floor-to-ceiling tall but this is funnier. Deca being very tall by human standards compared to. The King. Deca constantly yapping about The Divorce while those two have a serious conversation about how to most effectively make things stay the same forever. I am sosososososoosossoo normal :) (resisting the urge to draw and/or write an old mond and isat crossover)

CACKLING SO MUCH ???? HELP ???

this is AMAZING oh my god i love this so much. decarabian just standing in front of the king, fully in “(sigh…) i miss my wife, tails. i miss her a lot.” mode is making me lose it 😭😭 AND HIM CONTINUING TO YAP ABOUT THE DIVORCE AT ANY OPPORTUNITY HEJSHDHD like the imagery of the king carefully trying to preserve a specific memory and here comes deca, who recognizes it for something else, and is just like my wife did that once …. i did not understand at the time why, but looking back, looking at this …. :(

and oh ??? that would be such a fun idea, esp if the king hasn’t fully committed to the. freeze everyone in time decision yet. on the edge of it, about to enact the nightmare …. decarabian getting to know about the universe too and how it deals with wishes would be 👁👁

these two would be on celestia’s “watch OUT” list So Fast.

[bluerosefox]

F*ck Forgiveness. I Want Vengeance.

Hmmmm

Another DeadTired idea. And Ghost King Danny with Consort Tim.

Tim dies a bitter ended death with the Batfam (Maybe during his RR run and isn't caught by Dick when he is kicked out of WE window? Or its in the future where his relationship between the bats is bad.)

So yeah Tim dies. And wakes in the Infinite Realms and learns to unlive in that Realm and gained a wonderful afterlife.

And somehow manages to gain the attention of the Ghost King, King Phantom and somehow manages to become his Consort after some adorable ghost courting.

Despite the fact he's been dead for like a few months in his original Realms timeline, time in the Infinite Realms is more ocean like than riverish, Tim has been happily married to his husband for what feels like eons.

So Tim was not, very very not happy when his ghost is suddenly pulled away from his anniversary dinner and stuffed back into his body.

He hears yelling and fighting, wakes to see the Bats fighting League Assassins while Batman is fighting Ra's in rage.

And Tim.

He isn't happy at all.

He already figured it out, connected the dots.

Oh Ra's was going to regret bringing him back. The Bats, and he KNOWS they should had respected his last wishes to be fucking cremated, ashes scattered in space, so THIS wouldn't had happened.

Cause Tim wasn't playing around anymore.

[yourlocalsurrealism]

DP X DC PROMT: Happiness? In this Economy?

Dick convinces Jason to go with him to a party because he apparently "needs to socialize". At this party is also Danny, who is majoring in astrophysics at Gotham University. They run into each other, hit it off, and end up hooking up.

Danny has class in the morning, so he leaves before Jason wakes up, hurrying to get his day started and completely unaware of the fact that some of the ectoplasm he produces has seeped into Jason. (Neither of them tell each other their names, or maybe they're too hungover to remember? Idk, but they don't know each others names. It was also too dark for Jason to see Danny's face.)

Jason wakes up, wondering how the hell the cute guy from last night managed to leave without waking him up. He also feels happier than he has in a while, which he attributes to the fact that he actually had fun last night instead of scowling in the corner.

But the happiness, the calm, it just... Doesn't leave? For some reason?

At first, Jason is willing to accept that maybe the univers is just giving him a day off from the Pit Rage, God knows he's earned it, but when the end of the week is drawing closer and he's still no closer to figuring out why he's so goddamn pleasant all of a sudden, he starts to freak out.

He tracks this unnatural calm back to the party, and at first, he thinks someone spiked his drink. But the only people who were close enough to do that would be Dick, who would never do that, and his unknown, unnamed hookup.

Now, Jason isn't a very paranoid person, but he was raised during his early teens by the goddamn Batman, king of paranoia, so he immediately draws the following connections:

1. His unnamed hookup was able to roofie him without him noticing, bat training and all.

2. That drug, whatever it was, was strong enough to subdue the Pit Rage, and, seeing as it hasn't returned, that could be indefinite.

3. The only person who has ever been able to remotely control the Lazarus Pits is Ra's Al Ghul, and he still ended up a murderous sociopath, so obviously he doesn't have a good handle on it.

4. This random dude that he met at a goddamn college party may be the most powerful sorcerer in the world.

5. He need sto find this guy before she raises an undead army.

Thus, Jason finds himself in the awkward situation of explaining to his father that he may or may not have hooked up with a being more powerful than a man who runs an assassin cult and calls himself a demon.

The bats immediately begin searching Gotham for this guy, pulling out all the stops to stop this guy before they gain a new supervillain.

Meanwhile, Danny is peacefully going about his life.

Then, he runs into his one night stand and they start dating. Everything is going great for him! Moving to Gotham City was the best thing he's ever done!

Now Jason is even more panicked, because he just met this really cute guy, and now they're dating, but it's a horrible time because he's still trying to find this Eldritch creature.

Bonus ( to add to the misunderstandings):

Say Danny's trans. It's about now, a few months later, that morning sickness makes itself evident.

[suiana]

this is inspired by inês and pedro from portugese history or smth BUT imagine being a servant to some noble princess and she marries your future yandere! king who falls for you instead of his wife.

you're loyal to your princess and don't reciprocate his feelings obviously. also, you're just a mere servant, not even of any noble blood. you can't dare to imagine being with a king. that doesn't stop the man from wanting you all to himself though.

he's never felt anything like this before. like yes, he's seen beautiful peolple but it doesn't even match up to the feelings that stir inside him when he as much as thinks about you. everything he feels makes him feel like a pre-pubescent boy that wants you carnally. it's a bit embarrassing. he's the king of a kingdom after all. always calm, always composed, never rash or impulsive. not like this.

but you're perfect.

he must have you. he's worked so hard, surely he deserves some compensation in the form of someone he really adores. so what if he has a wife? it was just an arranged marriage anyway. he bets his wife doesn't even like him and has a secret lover somewhere else.

you're the one he wants. not this random princess.

so he pursues you, wanting nothing more than for you to love him back. to love him and only him. all his council men and advisors tell him not to do it. that it's not wise to go after his wife's servant, some no name commoner. he doesn't care.

unfortunately for you, you succumbed to his advances. fortunately for him, you began to show him the love he so desperately craved.

and thus began your not-so-secret relationship. it was... quite wonderful, actually. he was an amazing lover. he treated you to the finest delicacies and spoiled you rotten. he truly only ever wanted the best for you and it showed in his actions. so much so that everyone was aware of how fond he was over you. even the queen (your princess) was supportive of your relationship with him.

however, all good times have to come to an end.

as expected, his parents weren't happy with your relationship with their son. are you serious? this random ahhh commoner is the one their son loves?? no way. this does not match their agenda.

you were charged with treason and sentenced to death not long after. your beloved king couldn't even do anything about it because he was in another kingdom attending to important affairs. truly the most despicable of parents.

you were set to be executed on the gulliotine in the middle of the kingdom. public humilation, is it? you made your way to your death bed, staring at the masses of people who commented about how pitiful you were. alas was the fate of an unlucky commoner.

"thank you, my love."

and you shut your eyes, never to open them ever again as the blade came falling down on your neck.

"stop!"

it was too late. the blade had already sliced your head off your body, blood pooling on the ground as your lifeless body remain limp on the gulliotine.

all was quite, except the laboured breaths of the kingdom's king as he shakily made his way over to your head. his hands were cold, eyes wide open in horror as he mutters to himself as though it would comfort him.

"no, no, no... hey, this is just a joke right? this..."

everyone in the area could only stare silently as their king silently wept over your death. his once pristine white garments now stained red as he cradles your head in his arms.

"why? why you? anyone but you..."

who knew that your death would be witnessed by your lover too? that your death day would coincide with his homecoming?

and just as fast as his despair and sadness came, so did rage.

all was calm except for the screams of his parents as his sword plunged deep into their chests. his face was dark, jaw tight as he gave a mere glance back at the crowd.

"kill everyone. make sure no one leaves alive."

at his order, all hell broke loose. where was the calm and benevolent king they knew?!

screams of pain and agony, cries for mercy... the crowd could only watch as their king stood beside your body. there wasn't a hint of remorse in his face. in fact, they couldn't read what he was even feeling. all they could see was the face of a man who was utterly crushed and desperate for his lover.

...

a few days after his massacre, he had divorced his ex wife and crowned you as his new spouse. he had carefully sown your head back onto your body, not wanting anyone else to touch what was his.

"you're beautiful, my darling."

he kisses your cold lips, helping you get dressed in your coronation outfit. his hands were soft, gentle as they always were with you. he wouldn't let anyone touch you. no, they didn't deserve to touch you. only he did.

he gently carried your body out to the grand hall, not caring about the terrified glances and looks from his advisors and the royal court. right, he had also brutally murdered anyone related to your death. the executioner, the advisors who agreed to your execution... no longer was he the benevolent king he was once known as but a mad dog.

"bow down to your new ruler."

he'll make sure you get recognised as what you were supposed to be recognised as.

how dare they try and kill you like you weren't his one and only? how dare they think so little of you and get rid of you when he wasn't in the country? that is a royal crime. not only are they looking down on you, but on him as well.

"from now on, you will listen to every demand and word that my spouse says."

if the air around the ballroom wasn't so thick, it might have come out as a joke. after all, you were dead. how were you to talk every again?

"welcome our new ruler."

that wasn't a question. it was a demand.

your king will make sure you get the love and respect you deserve. and who knows, maybe he'll get you back with how dedicated he is. he knows a thing or two about dark magic, perhaps the next thing he'll do is bring you back to life.

yes, that is a good idea. that way you and him can truly be together once again.

[pilgrimagesource]

🚨 E-BOOK "AUTHOR" IS PLAGIARIZING PILGRIMAGE FICS 🚨

Buckle up, folks, this is gonna be a long one.

Our prolific author, @relicshamecircle (aka EnduringParadox on ao3) has been made aware of an e-book "author" named Layla Moran who has been blatantly plagiarizing her Diarmute fanfics and just changing the names and a few words around. This is absolutely unacceptable. I always like to think of this fandom as a safe haven and an accepting, kind community. But this is disgusting.

These are the three specific works listed on Layla's account that have been plagiarized from EnduringParadox:

This seems to be the work of someone within the fandom, because how else would she have found these fics and read them and decided to pass them as her own? So Layla Moran, if you follow me and you're reading this, you have made Pilgrimage fanfic authors, who are already so few and far between, feel unsafe to post without you getting your greedy hands on them and trying to take advantage of a small fandom for your own profit. Did you think you would never get caught? My advice to you would be to take down the works yourself before this has to get nasty.

To everyone else, I urge you to report and/or leave one-star reviews stating that they're plagiarized from fanfic. Links and proof below the cut:

The summary of The Beauty and His Beast:

Which is CLEARLY An Invitation to Happiness:

Ugh, Everild and Camdyn... what ugly names. But I digress. Here's the link to the GoodReads page if you feel so inclined to leave a one-star review and report.

An excerpt from An Invitation to Happiness, EnduringParadox:

"David hadn’t fought for glory or gold. At the time, he thought he’d stood for God—that the king’s cause, which he so readily made his own, was not only legitimate but justified both on earth and in the eyes of Heaven. More than five years later, carved into adulthood by the sword’s blade, his body a hardened knot of scarred skin, his throat ravaged by his own roars of rage and anguish, David knows better. That he had gone to war simply because he had been foolish. Because he’d been a young man but had still looked at war with a boy’s eyes—half a solemn duty, half a game. Something that would be done and done with satisfaction."

An excerpt from The Beauty and His Beast, Layla Moran:

"Everild Reed hadn't fought for glory or gold. At the time, he thought he'd stood for God--that the king's cause, which he eagerly made his own, was not only legitimate but justified both on earth and in the eyes of Heaven. More than five years later, carved into adulthood by the sword's blade and burdened with the weight of his choices, his body a hardened knot of muscle and scarred skin, Everild knows better now."

--

The summary of The Rancher's Mail-Order Husband:

Which, obviously, is Bluebells and Daylillies and Wild Roses Running Rampant:

Come ON, even naming Diarmuid's character "Ciarán"???? (And misspelling it Ciarian in the summary??) Here's a link to the GoodReads page. You know what to do.

And THIS ONE she's making money off of. You can buy it for $2.99 on Amazon.

Here's a link to the Amazon page, please report.

An excerpt from Bluebells and Daylillies and Wild Roses Running Rampant, EnduringParadox:

"David had almost joined their company. He’d gone nearly the entire war without being shot and damned if near the end of it all someone hadn’t gotten him right in the leg. The surgeon had told him they needed to take the entire limb. David had grabbed his collar, pulled him close until they were nose-to-nose, and gritted out that he’d break every one of his fingers if he tried it. He kept the leg, earned a limp, and found later, when he was beset by memories and the scent of blood and gunpowder, dizzy, pulse racing, that he’d gotten what they called the soldier’s heart, too."

An excerpt from The Rancher's Mail-Order Husband, Layla Moran:

"Graham had come close to joining the dead himself, narrowing surviving a gunshot wound to the leg near the warn's end. The surgeon wanted to amputate, and Graham, fueled by desperation, had snarled at him through gritted teeth, threatening to break his fingers if he so much as tried. He kept the leg but earn a limp that followed him everywhere, along with something the doctors called 'soldier's heart'--a condition that left him shaking, sleepless, and burdened with memories of blood and gunpowder."

--

And, finally, a summary of The Warrior and The Monk:

Which is just Temu how rich the earth, how bright the stars:

Here's a link to the GoodReads. Rate, report.

An excerpt from how rich the earth, how bright the stars, EnduringParadox:

"One morning, strangers in longships stepped onto the shore. Their arrival was no surprise. Along the sea's coast they drifted, slow, languid, in their monstrously large and narrow vessels with their monstrously large, woven sails dyed in bright, garish colors, a beacon to all that saw them, telling them—as their longships loomed like a pack of wolves stalking their prey—that they were coming."

An excerpt from The Warrior and The Monk, Layla Moran:

"One early morning, strangers in longships silently stepped onto the shore, their presence casting a heavy weight upon the land. Their arrival had been anticipated for days, maybe longer, and was no surprise to those who dwelled in the monastery overlooking the coast. The ships had been visible for miles as they drifted slowly, languidly, along the sea's edge, cutting through the waves like beasts with a purpose. They moved in their long, narrow vessels, which seemed both too large and too lean, with sails woven from thick cloth and dyed in bright, garish colors that stood out against the pale sea and sky. The sails themselves were like beacons, drawing attention,"

--

This is all so blatant and egregious. Shame on Layla. EnduringParadox is a kind and dedicated person writing all of these wonderful stories for our small fandom for FREE and Layla has taken advantage of that. We are small but we are mighty and protective of our own. Let's make Layla regret fucking with Pilgrimage.

[angelxarii]

─── ⋆⋅☆ ℍ𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 𝕆𝕗 ℂ𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕤

Tw: slightly noncon, manipulation, possessive behavior, toxic, control, power dynamic, drinking, forced alcohol consumption, read at your own risk

🂾 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 • sae itoshi

“If I can’t have you, no one can” 

Sae itoshi always gets what he wants. He always has. He picks his lovers similar to how he picks his suits; expensive, eye catching, and easily disposable. 

You caught his eye one day and since that day, you’ve been trapped. When he first saw you, he knew he had to have you because if you could catch the attention of the sae itoshi, then you’ve probably caught the attention of many other men. 

And to sae, that was a challenge. He had to have you. He had to have a girl wrapped around his arm that everyone would stop and stare at. 

But in the end, that’s all you were to him. A possession, an object. Maybe even a decoration piece for him. 

He didn’t love you, no no, that was beyond his understanding. Love?? Who were you kidding. He was drawn to you like a king is drawn to gold and many shiny things. 

He said he loved you. He would hold you close to him, he would kiss you in the most random times and places, he bought you whatever you wanted, treated you like a queen, fucked you with unexplainable desire. So what was wrong? I mean anyone who saw you guys would think you're both the ideal couple, right? 

Wrong. 

He didn’t love you because he owned you but owning something doesn’t mean you’ll love it. He held you close so you couldn’t leave. He kissed you so the only taste on your lips was his. He bought you gifts so you would always be indebted to him. He fucked you so you’ll never forget the shape of his cock; even if you left, his traces would still linger inside of you. 

If it weren’t for the fact that he has a career that demands his attention 24/7, he would’ve gotten you pregnant by now. 

But all that faded into nothing when you told him it was over. 

He was on the couch, unmoving. Why? he asked himself. 

You had the nerve to leave him when he made you feel nothing but happiness and pleasure? 

You didn’t answer him when he told you that you’re being dramatic and whatever is bothering you can be talked about. 

You just grabbed your things from his apartment and left. 

Maybe you just needed a break, right? Sae has done so much for you, there's no way you could actually leave him. Or so he thought until he saw you outside a cafe, your hand holding onto some random guy’s shoulder while you laughed. 

You were no longer sae’s possession, meaning other guys could gawk at you, hit on you, hell even ask you out. 

Not for Sae though. You were his. You ARE his and you always will be his. No matter how many times you choose to run away and tell him it’s over. 

You think he was just going to let you break up with him so you could talk to other guys. Yeah no. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

After your little ‘date’, you arrived home. It was chilly outside, probably because it was gonna start raining soon. 

You were giggling and smiling the whole way home and while taking off your shoes until a cold chill ran down your spine. Turning around to find Sae leaning back on your couch, swishing around a glass of whiskey. He was looking at the tv in front of him that wasn’t playing but he had definitely heard you enter. 

You rushed up to him, standing in front of him seething in disbelief. 

“What. the. Fuck, sae!” you shouted, eyes wide open in rage. The audacity of this man to break into your house, relax on the couch while drinking as if he’s in his own home. 

“Hello to you too, yn” 

“Don’t fucking hello me!? Get out” you scowled, pointing at the door. He smirked, grabbing your arm and pulling you onto his lap. Wrapping that same hand around your waist and pulling you close enough to feel the heat of his body. 

Your chest pressed against his. You couldn’t look more furious and he seemed just as amused, like he was having the time of his life. 

“For one, stop yelling, it’s late” 

“How about, for one, we start by you getting the fuck out of my house” you said more quietly this time but with still the same amount of rasp in your voice. 

He sighed, taking a sip of his, your drink. 

“Baby, i thought i told you we could talk about whatever was bothering you enough to make you leave but you decide to go out with other men not even a few days after leaving me.” 

“Sae, i’m not your goddamn girlfriend anymore, i can do whatever the hell i want and see whoever the hell i want. But none of that gives you the right to break into my apartment!” 

“See, this is where we see things differently. You’re still my girlfriend, whether you like it or not”

“I'm not your posses-”

“Shh, i’m not done. The old you would jump on my dick any chance you got but you spend less than a week without me and now you’re all different. You think just because we aren’t ‘dating’ anymore, you can do whatever you please, huh!?” he grits his teeth, narrowing his eyes on you. The look on your face is everything he’s been dying to see. Scared, shaken, even speechless. 

He breaths out, cupping the side of your face with one hand, caressing your cheek with his thumb

“I’m sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.” lies. 

Your lip trembled as you tried getting off his lap, but his hand was faster, wrapping itself around you to keep you in closer. 

“Please.. Leave” your voice broke hoping sae might take pity on you and leave but it had quite the opposite effect.

“You aren’t in your right mind, baby. Did that guy say something weird to you? You’re not like this at all. We both know i'm the best option for you, right?” he gently cooed, tucking a hand under the hem of your shirt.

“No can treat you like i do, yn. Nobody knows you like me. I’m all you need, remember? And nobody can fuck you as good as i do, i’m the only one who knows how to make my girl feel good and make her cum, isn’t that right?” he kissed your cheek, whispering so softly and gently against your skin. You sniffled, nodding. 

He brought the whiskey glass to your lips. You stared at him with doe eyes, not wanting to drink the alcohol. He raised an eyebrow, removing his hand from your waist and grabbing a handful of your hair to pull your head back. 

You couldn’t even voice the pain or shock that coursed through your body because your mouth was filled with the bitter taste of whiskey. 

Every last drop went in your mouth, having no choice but to either choke on it or drink it. Choosing the safer option, you let it flow down your throat, shutting your eyes as some stray tears fell from the corners and into your hair. 

He let you go, setting the glass on the table.

“More?” he asked as if he didn’t just force it down your throat. You shook your head no. 

“I'm.. tired, sae” you mumbled, praying that he will let you go. He smirked, gripping your jaw, his fingers dug into your cheeks coercing your lips into a pout. 

“Sleep all you want but i’m not leaving until i’m done reminding you who you belong to” he leaned in, whispering against your ear, you placed your hands on his chest, trying to push back but like always, it was no use. 

His lips trailed down from your ear, to your jaw. His hand still holding your face with that punishing strength. You tried shaking your head, tears welled up in your eyes but his lips were already on yours, licking and biting. Leaving them all red and swollen. 

“Let me go, please, please let me go” you begged the second he let go of your face. Not missing the glint of amusement in his eyes. 

“Stop fighting it, i know you want it.” he mumbled, unbuttoning his shirt. Gently placing you on the couch and pinning your hands beside your head.

“Right? You want it, right?” he asked, coaxing you into nodding an uncertain yes. He gave you a small smile, wiping your tears away. He took off your shirt and let you take off your pants and underwear. 

He took your hands and placed them on his belt, indirectly asking your to pull out his cock. Which you did. 

Running 2 fingers along your pussy to gather up all your slick and shoving them inside of you making you gasp and grip his shoulders. 

He scissored you open, gently massaging your inside, doing the things that he knows made you squirm and moan. 

He leaned down, tilting your face up so he could capture your lips with his. Grabbing hold of your untouched tits. Tightly squeezing them while lining his cock up with your entrance. All your pleas and moans were swallowed up by Sae who thrusted so deep inside of you, you swore you saw stars. 

Tears rolled down your face while sae fucked your brains out. Even you couldn’t tell if they were tears of pleasure or tears of pain. 

The red head male kissed your eyes, shushing you and telling you everything is okay. 

“Shh, quiet baby, quiet, it’s alright. Nothing to cry about, yeah? It's okay” his words were comforting but his actions weren’t. He grabbed your hips, blunt nails digging into your skin while yours dug into his back, leaving red scratches. 

“Fuck, your pussy feels amazing. So fucking wet and warm” he mumbled against your neck, thrusting deeper with every word. 

You cried his name out as you covered his fat cock with your cum. Soon after pulling an orgasm out of him as well. He couldn’t be bothered to pull out, emptying his load inside of you and painting your pink walls, white. 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

He showered you and dried you up. You were half asleep sitting in front of your vanity while he blow dried your hair. He set the dryer down after completing the last bunch. 

He stood behind you, looking down at you with a blank expression but his eyes were dark. Running a hand through your hair, he cupped your jaw, making you look up at him. Your eyes red from crying and the rest of your body covered in similar red coloured bite marks and hickies. 

“How do you feel?” 

“Tired..” you mumbled, wanting to cry and scream but not having enough energy after sae ruined your insides for hours on end. 

“Look in the mirror” you obeyed, tilting your head down as much as sae’s grip would let you. Staring at your fucked up self. 

“Now tell me. Who do you belong to?” he whispered, burying half his face in your hair.

“You..”

“Who?”

‘You, sae.” you said a bit louder, giving him what he wanted 

“Who’s the only one that’s allowed to fuck you and ruin you?” 

“Sae..” your voice faltered. 

“Whose the only person you’re allowed to be with” 

“You” you swallowed harshly, trembling as sae placed his chin on your shoulder.

“Are you ever gonna forget that?” 

“No.. never” 

“One last time. Tell me who you’ll belong to no matter what.” 

“Sae Itoshi..” you whispered accepting that no matter what you do, this is your life now. You’ll forever be a possession of a man who thinks controlling and owning someone means loving them. 

“That’s my girl.” 

a/n: Guyssss this was such a crazy thing to write. but toxic sae on top, fr. this was a bit long but hopefully the flow of the story was good and kept your attention. idk if i mentioned but these stories won't be drabbles or short stories. they're gonna be full length one shots.

Taglist: @pookiei-bookie @gothforgod (open)

ʚɞ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐱𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐢 | ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴏɴ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

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[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

THE HISTORY BOOK ON THE SHELF. ( HOTD x READER ) [ Final Part ]

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: King Aegon Targaryen x Little Sis! Reader prompt: Aegon would do anything, if it meant killing every ratcatcher or gold cloak in the city, he'd so. word count: 1, 000+ words

You wept and wept. Aegon feared that you would never be able to stop. Helaena was no better, locking herself up and shutting down. The two of you spiraled into madness and tears. It only made him drink and rage more. He hated to see you cry. You were supposed to be the happy one out of all of your siblings.

Aegon was the drunken mess, needing to be put in line. Helaena was the odd one, in a dream-like state. You were the perfect little angel, his perfect little angel. Aemond was the brooding one, face pulled into a stupid brooding look. Daeron was the forgotten one.

Now you were the broken one. Rhaenyra has stolen your smile. Rhaenyra had stolen his perfect little angel from him. She took the good from you, leaving him with a broken mess. A mess he wasn't sure of how to repair. So, he was going to do what he did best. He was going to get even.

If Rhaenyra wanted to take the one good thing he had in his life from him. He was going to burn everything she cared about to ash. Even if it made him a monster in the eyes of his own Court. Because you were worth burning the world down.

Blood and Cheese. Blood was one of his men, or now a former man of the City Watch. Cheese was a rat-catcher. That's how they knew how to get into the Red Keep. They were paid to kill Aegon's son. The worst part of all it had to be the fact that your son was "just in the way". They had no reason to kill him. He wasn't the one they had been paid to kill. They just killed him because he was in the way of things.

Blinking back the tears in his eyes, Aegon stares at the club in his hand, the metal rusted and jagged. Blood's words confession ringing in his ears. They killed his son for a debt, but yours because they thought of him in the way. Collateral damage. That was your son was, fucking collateral damage. Nodding his head for a moment, he thought of not killing the man, just leaving him to rot. But, another part of him truly wanted to see him bleed.

"You killed my son. You killed my sister's whole world." Aegon states, his voice cold. "My sister's loved their son's. And you just killed them."

"The Seven will never forgive you for this." Blood blubber's out, "To kill me.."

"Ah, yes, but the Seven aren't here, now are they?" Aegon mocks, adjusting his grip on the club.

Motioning around the Black Cell's, there was nothing but the rats and darkness there. No one to hear Blood's screams. No one there to help. It was just Blood and Aegon. Alone. Looking at the jagged end of the club, Aegon brushes his thumb over it, seeing it was sharp enough to cut. Though it would not be smooth or painless.

"You can fuck with me all you want. You can beat me. You can mock me." Aegon states, "Do as you please to me and I can endure it."

Blood sobs, the chains around his arms and legs clanging and jiggling loudly. Mercy was below, Aegon now. Mercy was not shown to his son or yours. Why the fuck should he show it to Blood?

"See, my friend. The thing is, you made my sister's cry." Aegon's face goes deadly cold, "I don't like bastard's that make my sister's cry."

Bringing the metal club down onto the man's head, he doesn't stop, unable to stop thinking of you. The way you wept, sobs full of heartache. The way you clung onto him, the blood on your nightgown seeping into his own clothes. The way the bastard made you cry. The way the bastard made you feel so unsafe in your own home.

The way the bastard made you doubt him. The way the bastard made you think he was a liar. Feeling a hand grab onto his forearm, he's pulled out of his daze, now realizing the man was now dead. His head caved in a bloody mess. Dropping the club, he takes a step back, licking his lips. He can taste blood on it, though it was not his own.

A son for a son. A son for a son. A son for a son. They got there son. Now a debt was now owed, on behalf of your son. The cycle repeating over and over again. Lucerys died, Jaehaerys died in payment. Your son died, now Rhaenyra would die in payment.

"Your grace?" A kingsguard asks, "What shall we do with the body?"

"Feed him to the pig's. I have no desire for time or a hole to be wasted upon him." Aegon spits at the corpse for good measure.

Hearing the door to the chambers open, you couldn’t find the strength to get up from bed, clinging onto the blanket. You could still smell your son on it. He smelt of lemon cakes and mud. He always loved to steal the frosting off the lemon cakes, just like Aegon did. He was just a boy. He was innocent. Why him? Why? Feeling tears bubbling up, you did not wish to ponder on your son’s death. It forced you to think of the sounds of a head being sawed off.

Feeling the bed dip for a moment, you look over to see Aegon there, his doublet and breeches soaked in blood. Blood’s blood. Sniffling softly, Aegon leans over to you, tucking back a strand of hair from your face. It was comforting to be touched and tended to like this, like you were still a child and not a woman grown with responsibilities and duties. Like everything was still okay.

"It is done." He whispers, nodding his head.

You don’t say anything, not being able to find the right words. Even if you could, what would you say? “Oh, that is so amazing to hear from you, dear brother.” or some other bullshit. 

"You have my word, I swear it upon my life. I will burn everything down that Rhaenyra loves." Aegon pledges, "From her favorite tailor to her favorite child. I will avenge your son, sister."

"Aegon.." You croak out, trying to find your voice. 

"I will kill her myself. I’ll fucking feed her to my dragon.” He vows, “No one will remember the name Rhaenyra Targaryen, when I am done.”

“Aegon..” You try again, voice barely above a whisper. 

"She'd be a fucking myth. She'll be a fucking ghost of the Red Keep. No, no, not even that. I won't even let her haunt the Red Keep."

He doesn’t hear you, clearly swept up in his plots and plans for revenge on your behalf. His words left not a drop of comfort.

“I will do anything that you ask of me. Just tell me what it is that you wish and I shall do it. I’ll kill whoever you wish⎯" He rambles on and on. 

"Egg." You whisper, tears bubbling up.

The childhood nickname falling out of your lips naturally. You did not wish for grand words, for grand promises, or grand actions to be done in your name or favor. That was meaningless. Mayhaps when the grief dimmed, you would wish for revenge for your son. But, for now, at this moment. You just wanted your big brother to hug you. You wanted things to be back as they once were. Here you were just Y/n and he was just Aegon, your big brother. Not the King.

Feeling the tears bubble up more and more, you sniffle, wiping the tears away with the back of your hand. You watch through teary eyes as he goes deadly still. You did not regret saying his old nickname. You just wanted to feel as safe and happy as you used to be in your childhood. You wanted to escape from the crushing reality that your son was dead and war was invincible now. Mayhaps it was childish. But, you wanted to be okay once more.

"Y/n.." He whispers, his face crumbling.

"Just hold me like you used to do." You whimper out, “Please.”

---

@lovelykhaleesiii

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@lexi-anastasia-astra-luna 

[oizysian]

26 // Spoils of war // The Queen’s Prize

Summary: The war is ended and the prize must be claimed.

Pairing: Princess!Wanda Maximoff x Queen!Fem!Reader

Warnings: semi dirty talk, talks of murder, sex

Word count: 940

Kinktober masterlist

“My Lady, the princess has been captured and the king is dead.”

“Good,” I said, sitting straight up on my throne. “Bring her to me.”

The long war was finally over. King Maximoff was dead and his daughter and his kingdom were my prize. I smirked to myself triumphantly, proud of my most recent, and most important victory.

My guards entered the throne room, practically dragging the bound princess along as they made their way to me. She didn’t struggle, but she wasn’t being cooperative either. They tossed her down at my feet in a heap, her soft sobs the only sound in the room.

“Lady Maximoff. It looks as if you and your fathers kingdom belong to me.” She raised her emerald eyes to look at me and I smiled. “Take her to my chambers. I want to claim my prize officially.”

“You monster!” She cried, making an attempt to stand but failing. “I’ll never belong to you.”

My smile never faltered, it just grew wider as they grabbed her again and dragged her out the double doors towards my private room.

I stood from the throne, watching her still form practically being carried down the hallway, her angry eyes burning holes into me until she was far out of view.

I knew I’d better not waste any time in following them up, as it would be rude to have my future wife waiting on me. I followed slowly, bracing myself and walking out regally as I made my way down the hall and up the long, spiral staircase. It gave me time to think.

I finally had the one thing I wanted more than anything else in the world; Lady Wanda Maximoff. Her father had denied my request to marry her and join our kingdoms together, so I took matters into my own hands.

I could hear her yelling as I reached the top of the stairs, guards waiting in front of the double doors that led to my room.

“You may go.” I told them and they nodded, taking their leave.

I took a moment before opening the door, walking in and looking around for my soon-to-be wife. There she sat, in front of the fireplace, her hands still tied behind her back but her legs free.

I approached her quietly and she gasped once she saw me, flames of rage burning in her eyes once our gazes met.

“Don’t come near me!”

I smiled, reaching around her and untying her hands. I leaned in close and whispered in her ear.

“They’re gone. I’ve sent them away.”

There was a beat before she wrapped her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly.

“Oh, I’m so happy!” I responded To her hug in full, wrapping my arms around her waist and holding against myself.

“Me too, my love. It’s a shame your father had to die though.”

“He forbade me from being with you. He had to die.”

I nodded, definitely agreeing with her. If only he hadn’t been so against his daughter marrying a woman, we would have joined forces.

She pressed her lips to my own, reaching up under my dress to remove my underwear.

“Eager?” I teased and she nodded.

“Very. It’s been months since I’ve seen you last. I need to touch you.”

I kissed her, moving us towards the bed. Her hands still moved and explored under my skirts, caressing all the contours of my body as I guided her. The backs of her knees hit the bed and she fell backward and I fell on top of her, both of us breaking out into soft giggles.

“I love you.” I stroked her face, smiling down at her happily.

“I love you too.”

I slid my hand underneath her, doing my best and struggling to undo the buttons on her dress. It needed to come off.

When I finally got the dress undone, she wriggled out of it and I threw it off to the side, leaving her bare before me.

“A princess with no undergarments? Obscene.”

“I knew what was going to happen today. I wanted to be ready for you.”

I kissed her again and again until we were both breathless, my hands trailing down her body to caress every inch of her, trying to memorize every contour, every freckle on her skin.

When I reached the apex of her thighs, she spread them eagerly and I buried my fingers in her tight wetness, moaning as she clenched around me.

“I missed feeling you like this.” I whispered softly against her neck, her hot breath hitting my ear as she panted with every thrust.

“I missed having you inside me.” She reached around and grabbed me by my shoulders, holding me close. “I feel so empty without you.”

She grunted as I fucked her, her walls fluttering around my fingers. She kissed and nibbled at my neck, causing my own wetness to seep through my panties.

“Cum for me, my love.” I cooed softly, wanting nothing more than for her to cum around my fingers again and again for the rest of our lives.

“Harder.” She whimpered and I moved my fingers faster, harder against her, her moans of pleasure becoming louder.

If any of the guards still lingered at the door, despite my order to leave, they would hear that I was claiming the princess as my own, fucking her until all she knew was my name.

She writhed beneath me as waves of pleasure overwhelmed her. I purposely allowed her to scream and moan as she came, wanting everyone to hear and to know that Princess Wanda Maximoff was mine.

[just-some-random-blogger]

The Cage Of My Rib

"Aegon?" "Mmm." "They say twins come from a split rib... do you think it is true?" "Pfft, no. If it were, I'd be short and ugly like you!"

Aegon Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader x Aemond Targaryen | 1k+ | cw: fem!reader, targcest, twin!reader, wife!reader, pregnancy, motherhood, post-rook's rest, angst, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: this is a fic I wrote for my lovely luna. im going to be completely honest with you. i had a vision then i didnt... i dont know if this has a happy ending im so sorry T_T HAHAHAHAHA @vhagar-balerion-meraxes I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!

His skin was scalding as he stormed into the dragon pit. His nostrils flared at the sight of the dragon about to exit and take flight. He clenches his fists, "keligon."

My mount rumbles at the sound of the command. I, at first, do not realize the command was given and pat my dragon's skin, encouraging her to continue.

"KELIGON!"

Both my dragon and I turn, seeing Aemond march towards us with a face painted in fury. He screams again, "STOP!"

I furrow my brows and hush my ride when she grows restless. She screeches at Aemond to show her displeasure, and so in turn, I have to calm her down as he approaches. I pull on my reins and scowl at him. I quip in High Valyrian, "you dare command Rhovior while I am mounted?"

Aemond looks up at me, pulse raging in anger. He screams again at her, commanding my dragon to obey him with such severity that she forgets her own predatory inclination and submits. Rhovior then cranes her long neck to the side and looks up at me. Her violet eyes reflect my own and I rub her pinkish scales before turning back to the man.

"Get down," he commands me in High Valyrian, reaching a hand out to me.

I clench my jaw and tilt my head at him, "I do not wish to."

His nostrils flare, "you truly think it wise to fly on dragonback in the middle of a war?"

"I am not flying into war, brother."

"You are not flying anywhere," he snaps, "wife."

Rhovior was getting restless again. She begins to shake her head and shift towards Aemond. I have to calm her down, lest the one-eyed prince be left one-armed or worse. He at least has the mind to step away from her at this point, his hands coming to his side.

Aemond clenches his jaw as I calm Rhovior. I grunt when part of the saddle digs into my belly. My husband flinches, boot skidding forward on instinct. He hisses in the High Valyrian once more, "you are in no state to be flying."

I make sure my ride is completely calm before finally dismounting. Once I do, Aemond comes upon me, glaring down with a furious eye.

"I am her rider," I repeat in the same tongue, "she would not cause me harm."

"She does not need to cause you harm for harm to come to our child."

I step forward. My protruded belly barely brushes against him, "she would not harm my child."

"Our child," he corrects, "I have as much say on what happens to the babe as you do."

I sigh and close my eyes. I hear Aemond command the dragon keepers to bring Rhovior back into the pit. I rub my belly and ignore my husband, walking past him.

"Do you think you would be spared simply because you are a woman with child? Rhaenyra will spare none in King's Landing to have her way."

I remove my gloves while he follows after me. I respond by the time I feel him beside me, "as I said, I was not flying into w-"

"Flying at all is an act of war," he grabs my arm, forcing me to face him, "you are my wife."

I whip my head, pulling my arm out of his clutch, my silver hair flipping behind me.

"You carry my seed."

"Trust me, Prince Regent, I know what I carry inside me better than you."

Aemond's jaw sets. The muscles on his face feather. I can practically feel the anger radiating off him. My stomach begins to churn. I look down and sigh. I step forward and grab his bicep. I can feel his muscles are tense. I whisper, "I would not have flown far."

He does not reply.

I look up at him. His face is bound in anger. I reach for his cheek, but he pulls away and steps back before I touch him.

I gulp. I allow my hands to drop.

His silence held the violence of a storm, and his stoic expression held something searing beneath it. His voice held a false serenity as he whispered, "you'll have to kill me before you forfeit so much to a dead man walking."

I stare at him. I do not argue with his distasteful comment nor do I correct his belief that I meant to fly out to do something for the said man.

I simply walk away after he's said his piece and head for my chambers.

I change out of my riding clothes and go to the nursery. I dismiss the wet nurse and tell her I will continue breast feeding my son.

I immediately take my child onto my hip and rub his back as I make my way down the hall. Aenar sighs into my shoulder, his soft cheek pressed against my neck. I make it to the King's quarters and nod at the Kingsguard stationed outside his room as he opens the doors for me.

I stop just as I enter; the sight and the smell never gets easier to palate. I shift my boy in my arm when he begins to fuss. A mewl from across the room makes my heart twinge.

I walk towards the bed, the sound of my heels on the tiles reverberate in the otherwise silent chamber. By the time I sit down on the chair beside the bed, Aenar is restless, and so I undo the ribbons on my chest and allow my baby to feed.

I stroke my son's head, rocking him in my arms slightly, but my eyes are on the man before me and his are on mine. Aegon's lilac gaze is watery. His lips are dry as he speaks, "you shouldn't be here."

I adjust my son in my arms so his weight doesn't put so much pressure on my belly. I rub the boy's bald head, "and where should I be, my king?"

He scoffs but regrets it when he breaks into a ragged cough. I huff when it doesn't seem to stop and reach for the glass of water on his bedside table. I manage to keep a firm grip on son as I help him drink. Liquid spills from the corner of his lips and soon he shakes his head, making me pull away.

"There is no king here."

I simply wipe his skin, careful not to irritate him. Aegon watches me, or rather, he watches Aenar. I freeze when he grabs my wrist weakly before I pull away.

His voice is soft and strangled, "you misunderstand."

He releases his hold. I put the cloth down.

"I don't want you here."

We stare at each other. I am unfazed because I knew he did not mean it. I adjust Aenar in my arms. He stops suckling after this, and so I move him to my other shoulder and lace up the ties on my chest. I rub his back and gently pat him, "shall I move to the other side of the bed then?"

Aegon does not reply.

Aenar burps softly. I lean into him and kiss his head, "good boy."

His eyes water. He screws them shut, "do not insult me further-" his nostrils flare, "-and fucking leave."

My brows knit, "I've not yet helped you ea-"

"I DON'T WANT YOU HERE!" he snaps, spit flying out his mouth as he screams.

I jolt at the severity of his tone. Aemond, even with his display prior, was never one to shout at me, not even as a child. Aegon, however, always did. It did not make it any bearable. Aenar too was affected by the shout. He promptly begins to sob.

I immediately begin to rock him and shush him. When he does calm, I cradle him in my arms and sing to him. It was my favorite High Valyrian lullaby, one that our father sung to us in but a few instances or less.

Aegon's face twitches at the sound. The act causes his tender injuries to flair. Tears stream down his face.

It takes two repetitions of the song for my baby finally find peace again. By the time he does, I feel out of breath. I sit back down but do not stop rocking him. Aenar coos and I do not dare to cease my singing.

That is, until, Aegon calls my name.

Not only do I stop singing, I stop moving altogether.

His eyes are closed and his voice is shaky, "your being swells with life while mine wastes away."

"No, you get better everyda-"

"I am a dead man walking," he chuckles dryly, "I cannot even walk-"

"And did Aemond tell you this?"

His eyes slowly open. A tear drips into his mouth, "I know what I carry inside me better than he."

Aenar begins to fuss again, and so I bring him to my shoulder and pat his back.

Our silence is broken by the sound of my brother and I saying each other's names at once. I pull my chair close to him. He slowly shakes his head in disagreement, screwing his eyes shut.

"I am here," I tell him.

He chuckles, "I pray you were not."

"I will always be here, Aegon. Your woes are mine and my joy is yours."

He slowly opens his eyes. He sniffles and mumbles, "you are not my wife."

"I am your twin-"

"I am glad of it," he reaches out a hand. I perk and lean in, knowing exactly what he wanted instinctively. I maneuver Aenar until he was laid back in my arms. Aegon's curled hand comes to my son's leg. His breathing is heavy, "he would have been Jaehaerys."

I clench my jaw and place my hand atop his.

He huffs slowly through his mouth, "I cannot feel you anymore."

I rub his burnt hand, "perhaps not in flesh, but always in heart."

Aegon slowly pulls his hand away.

"I wanted to pick you flowers, but Aemond did not let me."

"I would not have either if I were him."

"But you are not."

"I wish sometimes I was," he looks away, "how content I would have been to be born the second son... to have you."

"You have me."

He chuckles, mumbling under his breath, "do not tell him that. My injuries are suffice."

I cradle Aenar as he snuggles into my breast.

"Do you remember what you asked me when we were children?"

I nod, immediately knowing what he meant, "if twins are split from the rib?"

He hums, "if we were, I am glad that you are rid of me."

"I am glad we are not joined at the rib, but I do not wish to be rid of you."

He mumbles my name. No one but himself hears.

I adjust my baby's collar, "I should put him down. I will return before your supper is served."

He does not reply. I give him one last look before heading back.

I enter the nursery. I stop in my tracks when I see the figure looming over the cot. Aemond turns over his shoulder. I blink at the sight of his distraught expression before walking over to him.

I stop beside him, debating where I should place my son. I decide to hand him to Aemond, who graciously takes him into his arms. Aenar mewls before settling against him. A line forms between Aemond's brows as he gazes at the boy. He mutters, "how is he?"

His words hold double meaning and yet I could feel like it was a trick, to see if I would talk about Aegon.

I step closer, gazing at the infant who was blissfully unware of all that was around him. I stroke his cheek with my finger, "he is tired," I pull away, "not unlike his father."

Aemond turns to me as I rub my belly. He clenches his jaw but says nothing.

I cautiously reach out for his cheek. He does not pull away from me this time, "I will return to join you for supper."

I wait for him to respond. I walk out when he does not. He watches as the door close. He turns away after the click.

"Keligon, muña," Aemond mutters as though it was his son speaking. He then shushes him, "muña kessa daor henujagon īlva..."

Mother will not leave us.

"... my son."

[writing-fanics]

don’t mess with the devil ii

Part I final

Chapter ii: Home is with you

[warning: mentions of sex]

Lucifer Morningstar x human!Reader

Y/n

Y/n?

Sweetie?

The smell of chemicals wafted through your nose, and the occasional beeps that sounded like a heartbeat monitor? You groaned, and your vision still blurry. “L-Lu?..” Your voice hoarse, but the voice didn’t respond.

“It’s me mom.” The voice said, causing you to sit up quickly in response. “Whoa, slow down.” Your mother, said placing a hand on your back. “I-I’m back..” You whispered, and your mother looked at you worriedly. She gently rubbed your hand, “Yes you’re. Thank Heavens.” She said, planting a kiss on the side of your head.

You sat there and said nothing, staring blankly at the blanket. Processing everything, you were no longer in Hell. No longer with Lucifer. You were back home on Earth with your mother. Like you always wanted right? Then why did you feel so cold? So empty?

You felt as if a piece of you was missing. Like you were missing your other half. Your Lucifer. You missed his warmth, his smile, and his goofy personality at times. He always found a way to make you smile whenever you were feeling down, and you would return that sentiment.

You didn’t tell him you loved him yet, he’s told you. But he respected that you might not be ready to saw it yet. He understood completely, once you explained it to him. Having told him about your bad relationships in the past. Now, that all seemed to end right now. You were never going to see him again.

“Y/n, oh sweetie you look pale.” Your mother said, snapping you out of your thoughts. As she placed her hand on your forehead. “I’ll be right back.” She said, and you assumed she left to get the doctor. You frowned, as you laid back down in the hospital bed. The hospital gown fabric scratchy, and the sound of the heart monitor made you sick.

You laid on your side, back towards the door. Your stomach grumbled, but you didn’t feel like eating anything. Laying in the single bed made you, the king sized bed you shared with the king of hell.

The satin sheets and the comfortable bed. Mainly you missed, laying in bed with him cuddling or just laying there to relax. Or of course doing the ol devils tango. You missed the smell of the caramel apple candle that filled the bedroom. The smell of freshly baked apple by on Saturday mornings.

Tears trickled down your cheeks, as you hid your head into your pillow. As much as you were happy to be back home, seeing your mom again. Somehow, what was once home no longer felt like it.

You opened your closed hand to reveal, a golden ring with wing like textures engraved into it. Tears welled up in your eyes, as you were filled with so much regret.

“I should’ve told him..” you sniffled, as you closed your hand again. Hiding your face into your pillow once again. “How much I love him.” You whimpered, as you sobbed.

back in hell

Weeks later

Lucifer sighed, as he leaned forward onto his desk. His eyes wandered towards the framed picture on his desk, of you and him at Lu Lu World. “This is way better than Disney!” He remembered you said, after which you showed him pictures. He knew of another park called ‘Hellsney’.

You had faded away from his hands, and a part of him knew you were going back to the living world. He felt it when part of his magic he shared with you, returned to him. He didn’t even get to say goodbye, tell you how much he loved you before you faded away in his arms.

At least, he knew you were much sadder up there than here. He couldn’t bear the site of your beaten and battered body. Adam was lucky that Charlie was there to keep him, from killing him.

Lucifer stared down at Adam, as he held Charlie in his arms. His voice distorted and demonic. “You come at me my daughter and my partner!” said Lucifer, as his daughter stepped down onto the ground.

He lunged towards Adam, and stood over him. Eyes red glowing filled with rage, “Don’t forget your in my house now bitch!” He laughed, demonically as he threw punch after punch. With the intent to kill. You don’t mess with the devil or his family.

He’s going to miss that smile of yours, that infectious laughter. Your voice, and your delicious cooking that rivaled his. He never thought he’d find love again after, Lilith left. Yet, here you come in six years later. A human no doubt ending up in hell so suddenly, and he fell in love with you.

Now, you left too. Not by choice but you were gone as well. He was still recovering from Lilith leaving him while the two of you, were still in a relationship. You told him that you understood, being together for as long as they did you understood.

You being there with him helped seemed to heal that wound. Then fixing his relationship with his daughter helped too. But now that wound in his heart, seemed to open back up. Hells, he loved you god so fucking much. You were special there was something about you, maybe the two of you were soulmates.

A silly thing to think but it could be possible?

He reached towards the photo, and stared at it longingly. You had a goofy smile on your face.

He remembered that day, after that photo was taken. A hellbird flew down, and stole his caramel apple. You gave yours to him, and the two of you shared it.

God he was going to miss you..

“Come on.” A distorted voice said, he turned around in his chair. “Who’s there?!” He called out, but saw nothing. Was it all in his head. He could’ve sworn that voice sounded familiar.

“Lu!” A voice called out, a faint yellow glow as if a portal trying to manifest itself appeared behind him. He didn’t notice a hand reaching out to touch him, through the tiny hole.

He thought it must’ve been that Alastor, pulling some sick twisted prank on him. But he could’ve sworn, he felt a little bit of his magic leave him.. That could only mean..

Taglist: @96jnie

[velaris-fic-repository]

End to Begin

@sjmxreaderweek May 4th Prompt: Beginnings/Endings

You never imagined that it would end like this. Once you were old enough to contemplate what an ending would be like, you’d first imagined that you’d likely end surrounded by the family you had with whichever local man decided to court you. Maybe Feyre, Elain and Nesta would be there, maybe they wouldn’t. One cannot try predicting every aspect of the future, especially around such a grim and saddening event.

Then the family fortunes changed, and you realized you were much more likely to end in the cold dead of winter or due to lack of food.

This, standing at the lip of the awaiting maw that was The Cauldron, the roiling, bubbling mass that had swallowed and spat up your two formerly human sisters already, was never something you thought would happen.

Paralyzed where you stood and not yet tossed inside, your heart and mind kicked into overdrive.

Feyre was distraught, glancing between you and your other siblings. Her fae friends that you had only met a few times were horrified, frozen from action due to the Hyberian King’s threats upon their own lives. Cassian, with scalded wings still crawled to Nesta ever so slightly. Rhysand’s eyes were on Feyre, clearly aching for the fear and grief written plainly on her face. Mor gazed between you and everyone else, attempting to work a way out of this.

Your enemies in the room were watching you too. Tamlin raged from where he stood but did nothing but call for Hybern to stop. Fat lot of good that had done. Lucien was occupied by staring at Elain. The unfeeling, traitorous queens gazed at you with cold, calculating interest.

They were waiting to see if you would die.

Finally, your eyes locked on Azriel, ash wood in his chest, dripping poison into him like a syrup tap. He was on his knees, clearly in more pain than any non-transformed person in the room. But the agony on his face was settled on you. You could feel his anguished and fearful thoughts were settled on you and the fate you had been forced into.

You two had gotten along well in the past few months of visits to your family home. The two of you just seemed to fit together.

But now, you may never know what more would come of that story. No one could save you but yourself. You were strong, you’d always thought, but were you strong enough?

Callously shoved into the awaiting torment, you barely had time to scream.

You fought in the Cauldron. Fought for your life, the promise of a full story you were given when you were born, that this beginning meant a happy ending one day. That you would restore your family, maybe not to what it was before, but something better. That you would see your sisters smile at each other again. That whatever new fate awaited you all would be better than the world you’d been shoved out of. That maybe someday you would find a love like Feyre had.

You fought like all the enemies in the room thought you wouldn’t.

You emerged from the Cauldron drenched, aching and nauseous, but blessedly and undeniably alive. You bared your new elongated teeth to the world in spite of all it had tried to do to you and yours. Go ahead, you seemed to silently say, try again.

You locked eyes with Azriel. His face was an amalgamation of grief, pain, relief, shock and… awe. You couldn’t guess what the expression meant but looking at him had something shifting in your chest. A strange solidifying. You did not have long to contemplate it or his expression as the ever increasing sag of your body extended to your eyelids and you fell the rest of the way to the floor, unconscious.

You awoke, blinking in the unfamiliar darkness. Your eyes adjusted shockingly quickly, your ears beginning to pound at the sheer amount of sound you were picking up in this seemingly quiet, empty room.

No, not empty.

There was a shadow seated beside your… bed. You were in a bed in an unfamiliar space which was never ideal, least off which after what recent memories were flooding you. You weren’t shackled that was good. You had to get out of here.

You moved as quick as your body would allow but your movements were clumsy and your body burned with every shift in muscle and position.

Quickly the shadow moved to you, a male’s body.

No.

You would scratch, claw, bite, anything that would keep this stranger from getting closer to you. Your body ached as you scrambled, your eyes struggling to keep up with the information you needed to glean in your situation, your ears flooded your brain with noise. Everything was too dark, too light, too confusing, too loud, too much!

Your strength wained and betrayed you in this far stronger male’s grip. He grasped your hands gently and pushed you softly but forcefully down to the bed again, unbothered by your scratching and hitting.

“Shhh, hey, it’s okay,” his soft voice said, sounding just like you had that one summer you had worked with a local farmer’s horses.

You still thrashed but you slowed a bit, your eyes adjusting to the darkness further.

“It’s alright, you’re safe. You’re safe, I swear on my life, you are safe.”

You took in details of the room. There was a window behind him, the most gorgeous view of the moon and stars outside. Billowy shear curtains flowed in, carried by the night air and moonlight trickling in.

Not bars. Not a cell.

Your name was cooed softly, “you’re safe.”

Finally, your eyes lit upon the male in front of you, seeing him clearly.

Azriel.

Azriel. Not in danger, not dying. Safe. Just as he promised you were.

You blinked, all attempts at fighting gone.

Azriel’s expression was pained, as if he felt the aches and pains that you had. His eyes were every bit as afraid as they’d been the last time you’d been awake.

“Azriel?” you asked.

“Yes.” He said the word like a prayer of thanks to whatever god would hear him.

“Tell me I’m not dreaming. Tell me this is real.”

A shuddering breath escaped him, but he held your hands tightly. “This is real, princess. You’re not dreaming. You’re safe.” The last part sounded more for his benefit than your own.

“Well now I know I’m dreaming,” You whispered.

He held your hands tighter to the point where if you had been… unchanged, you’d imagine they’d be bruised. “What do you mean?” His tone alone could bring you to tears.

“I’m no princess, least of all to you…”

Another shockwave of pain rippled through his expression but he pulled one of your hands to his lips and kissed it reverently.

“You are to me, and I’ll say it as many times as it takes you to believe me.” There was no room for argument so you stayed quiet.

The two of you had much to discuss, but neither of you had the voices for it, so you sat quietly watching each other, ensuring to yourselves that the other was real, here and safe. Another thing flashed across your shared eye contact, a flickering promise of something to come. Some future you could not see but felt deeply in the string like sensation you felt in your chest tethering you to the male beside you. You had no name yet for what it was, but it promised a beginning. The start of a beautiful story in the wake of all your previous darkness.

The world had tried to destroy you and failed miserably. It had given you something to hope for instead in those hazel eyes and ebony curls. That golden, shimmery thing within you was looking forward to it.

[lesmolghost]

Dead On Main Idea idk what to call it

Brain worm hit me again and ever since i started listening to Epic the musical, it hasn't left me ever since

imagine the Fentons are in gotham or near it that allows Danny and Jason to meet

Danny and Jason are both together from their younger years. They even got fake married somewhere and had rings and all. It was a joke marriage but both of them were committed to said marriage.

They're both idiots that think they're still friends when they already act like an old married couple. Everyone around them wonders if they know they're actually dating.

Someone asks Danny (lets do danny) if he has a girlfriend or boyfriend and Danny (or Jason if they're both together at a place) just shows him the toy ring and says he's already married.

They're happy and all but good things end eventually. Jason dies in that warehouse. Danny wonders where Jason is until he gets news of "robin's" death. Danny is devastated

Time passes and life goes on, but Danny hasn't got over Jason, and probably never will. He subconsciously refuses relationships even if he tries to love again, but he still keeps searching for Jason in them.

When Jason gets revived, he doesn't remember almost everything from the past, but small fragments. The thing is, his pit rage is caused by him remembering something, and especially someone, who he lost in the past. Every time he remembers something, he loses it and his rage is in the form of longing—searching for something or someone he doesn't know or remember. This lasts for years

Meanwhile, The stuff with Danny still happens. From The phantom bit to the ghost King bit.

Both of them are adults now but seem to can't find love. On Danny's side, they know why Danny isn't interested in loving someone else, seeing Danny stare at a window with longing eyes and waiting. But the Batfam? No they do not, and neither does Jason himself know why. They even set Jason up with people and he ends up pushing him away

now idk what to do in this part in first meetings but not recognize each other and all, but the time they realize and or remember (for jason), it's a heartfelt reunion, because Danny Learned that Jason was alive, but Jason feels guilt because of the things he did. After a bit of a verbal fight, they reconcile, and both of their eyes don't look gloomy anymore. Danny definitely also flies Jason as they dance in mid air like some fairytale

Now imagine this scenario with the song Would You Fall In Love with Me Again with Jason as Odysseus and Danny as Penelope

I am also imagining an animatic idea where the line "left a trail of red in every island" would refer to Jason killing a lot of people while the "wedding bed" would be the rings Jason and Danny have on their childhood marriage

[rcvcgers]

Duty's Cruel Embrace

account masterlist , series masterlist , ao3

18+ MINORS DNI

prologue | next chapter

playlist

pairing ; prince!xavier x princess!reader

synopsis ; after a long military campaign to try and conquer the mysterious kingdom of nabira, the kingdom of philos offers the king of nabira a deal to save his kingdom: a political marriage between the the crown prince and princess. the princess is whisked to the other side of the world, separated from her kingdom and family, forced to navigate her life in court with the help of a lemurian courtier and her duty as philos' next queen.

word count ; 1.7k words

author's note ; hi everyone! this is my new series that i am so happy to get started! it is a lil collaboration between me and the amazing vel!! ( @velaenam ) [go check out their part here!] hers takes place in ancient rome while mine is during the medieval times (mid-1200s to be exact!) please read the trigger warnings below before proceeding to read the prologue below. it serves as a warning for the rest of the series as it plays out.

as always, i am not responsible for what you decide to read/consume.

trigger/content warnings ; swearing, nsfw language, political manipulation, power imbalance, emotional manipulation, toxic relationships, war and violence, sexual themes, misogyny/patriarchal culture, classism and elitism, culture tensions, xenophobia, racism, non consensual stuff at times...romantic love triangle, slow burn, angst, fluff, smut (thanks vel for letting me steal <3)

want to be a part of the tag list? click here!

You slowly suck in a breath, the warm wind finding its way into your lungs, the flying sand tickling your nostrils. The familiar scent of sand mixes in with the perfumed oil on your skin, the floral smell making the small stretch of desert bearable despite the constant fires that burned outside the walls.

Smoke has become familiar to you. A constant presence in an evolving war that has claimed the lives of hundreds of men.

You exhale, slow and steady — determined. Your arms remain strong, the wooden bow adorned with gold accents in its design, light in your hand. 

The bow creaks as the string is pulled back. The tips of your fingers curl around the sinew drawstring, the once tacky material no longer sticking to your fingers after years of use. The crow feather from the arrow brushes against your cheek, remaining locked by the corner of your lips. 

You stand alone in the deserted area. It is a short distance away from the palace, a secondary home when you need to get away from the turmoils of life and the raging war that sits outside Nabira’s walls, threatening to burst inside at any moment.

From the distance, you hear the sounds of screaming men, their lives being carelessly ended in a battle that you know will only end in devastation for both sides.

The world moves around you. The wind brushes the hair out of your face, kissing your skin while a cloudless blue sky hangs above you. Sand flies past your eyes. Under the scorching rays of the sun, the specks look like gold, adding to the never ending beauty of your kingdom.

Footsteps sound from behind. You remain in a contest with the target before you, pushed across the plains at a far distance, farther than any of your father’s archers could reach, resting atop a rock where statues of your ancestors stand. The gold accents and gems catch the afternoon light, shining from afar.

“My brother,” you speak. The arrow remains still, ready to be unleashed. “Has he returned to us?”

“He has perished in the midst of battle,” your maid’s voice is quiet, meek. She trembles, eyes fixated on the bow and arrow that lies in your hand. “The Philos King and Prince are to arrive at the palace within the hour.”

You do not react. You do not move a single muscle. Your lungs burn, fingers aching as the string presses into your skin, threatening to tear your flesh and have your blood and tears fall into the earth beneath your feet.

You know what is to be expected of you. A fate that you have always deemed to be worse than death, a permanent ending to one’s story. It is a role that you have never wished to play. While other girls fantasized about their future husbands, you picked up a bow and books, dedicating your future to the prosperity of Nabira.

A bitter taste forms across your tongue. The future of your country is in shambles now that your brother’s soul has been ripped away from the earth.

“Who.”

“Who…?”

“Who killed my brother?”

Your maid remains silent. The sinew string sinks further into your skin. Your blood seeps into the material, slowly dripping from your fingers, falling into the golden sand below. It stains the desert just as the war outside Nabira’s walls does.

Did your brother’s blood sink into the sand? Did his flesh and bones submerge beneath the sand, returning him to the land where your ancestors rest?

“Lumière, my lady.”

The reflection from the gold adorned statue flashes into your eye. You do not flinch. You accept the pain with open arms, knowing that the dull ache that forms behind your eyes is immeasurable to the pain your brother must have felt on the battlefield.

“Lumière,” you breathe out the knight’s name, knowing that it belongs to the crown prince of Philos who has never lost a battle.

Anger bubbles inside your now hollow chest. Your grip on the string tightens, the material burying itself into your flesh, threatening to slice till it reaches your bones.

You release the arrow. It slices through the sky, its black feathers a whir before it disappears across the distance. The bow relaxes in your hand, the string vibrating before settling back into its rightful place. Your eyes attach to the red mark on the light colored string. A permanent scar to remind yourself of what you have lost today.

Your arms relax. They feel weak at your sides. The wind envelops your body, the sand hitting against your bare hands, chaffing them. A lump forms on the inside of your throat, the amalgamation of all your worries and fears ready to burst from your mouth at any given moment.

You remain silent. You hold back the tears that threaten to fall, not wanting them to mix in with the blood that lies at your feet.

The sand may have your blood, but it will never have your tears.

“Leave me,” the words fall from your mouth like a breathless plea for the divine spirits in your life to take the reins.

Your quiver hits your hip, the smooth leather soaking in the sun’s heat. Your dress is a vibrant teal color, a shade that compliments the sea not too far from Nabira. Your neck and arms are decorated with golden jewelry while your fingers remain bare, needing the mobility for your archery.

With one step, you push into the empty terrain. The desert is hot and the winds push you towards the statues that lay across the stretch of land. Minutes pass and the statues grow taller, more dominant in the sky, the white stone beckoning for you to come forward.

The wind whispers your name and picks up your hair. A woman’s voice calls for you from within the wind. Her voice is like a lullaby, one that your mother sang to you before she passed.

You stop before the steps that leads into the circle of sand. Two statues sit in the center of the perimeter, the inside of the circle filled with nothing but the sand of the kingdom you call home, the place you would willingly put your life down for to protect it.

A man’s voice touches your ears. It’s strong yet he doesn’t speak over the woman. The wind hums in harmony, their voices joined as one. 

You move up the first step, eyes focused on the pair of statues. With the second step, they become more visible. The male figure kneels before the woman, whose hand is placed atop his head. She wears a gold crown, fingers adorned with a single golden ring, a symbol of her love.

To you, though, you saw it as chains connected to the man whose name will forever be known throughout all of history while hers is destined to fade no matter how hard her emperor husband tried to keep her memory alive. Historians only ever remember men, never the women who push them towards greatness.

The people, though? They will remember her. They will carry on the memory of her life and legacy through the erected statues of the man’s dedication. Her stone shall never chip or crumble, the paint of her skin always remaining vibrant as the world breaks down others around her.

A step inside the circle. Your eyes move to the target, catching a glimpse of black crow feathers. You take a step to the side, every move calculated and made out of respect for the scene that sits in front of your eyes.

The arrow is lodged into the center of the target. A perfect hit from being at such a far distance. With one pull, you pull the arrow free from the woven straw of dead plants. The arrow is razor sharp, its jagged edges proving useful as a weapon of destruction.

You drag the tip of the arrow along the pad of your thumb. It presses into your flesh yet its touch is gentle, not slicing into your skin. You move in front of the statue, tilting your chin up. You lock eyes with the woman. The wind hastens, urgency met with every gust

Something resonates inside your heart. The once empty space, a void created by the death of your twin brother, is filled with a sense of purpose. Defiance crosses your mind. Your eyes flicker to the golden ring on her finger before moving back to her eyes.

“Is that what you wish for me, ancestor?” you ask aloud. The wind cools your fiery heart. “Are we to share the same fate?”

You slowly lower yourself onto your knees. The arrow falls to the side, forgotten as the wind covers it with sand. The golden flakes within the small fragments soothes your aching heart. The weight of Nabira’s world is released onto your shoulders, your knees sinking into the sand. You lean forward, bowing your head in reverence towards the ancestors who came before you, a gesture of honor and appreciation.

“Guide me,” you breathe the words out like they are a prayer, closing your eyes, “be with me till my last breath.”

Your hands submerge beneath the layers of sand. The wind quickens from around you, swirling as if it has come to life, their voices filling your ears and calming your racing mind. You draw in a long breath and slowly begin to exhale.

As your breath dies, so does the wind. You open your eyes and look at the woman before you.

There is a gentleness in her expression. She does not need to open her mouth to bring you the comfort and solace for the journey that has been laid out for you. Your fingers move to the side, curling around the arrow that sits beside your knees. You nod at her and rise to your feet. You turn on your heel, overlooking the landscape.

In the distance, Nabira’s walls stand tall, looming over the destruction and bloodshed that has tormented the soil for far too long. Plumes of smoke roll into the air, an omen of what is to come. Bells ring out, a signal for you to return to your father’s side, to mourn the loss of your brother, another life wasted in a useless war.

The wind brushes against your skin, pushing you towards your destiny.

if you enjoyed this, please leave a comment!

as always, likes, comments, & reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[medievalandfantasymelee]

👑🌹Queen of Love and Beauty🌹👑

Round 4: 2 of 2

The Queen of Love and Beauty shall hold the honour of presenting unto the winner of the Tournament his Champion's Coronet.

Vote for the lady who, to you, best exemplifies feminine dignity, grace and loveliness.

The two contenders with the most votes will advance.

Éowyn of Rohan, The Lord of the Rings Trilogy (2001-2003) Portrayed by: Miranda Otto

My Lady Èowyn has & can do it all -- whether loopholing a prophecy to vanquish a walking nightmare, supporting a noble shortarse unfairly deprived of his own stabortunities, or gardening (established by S.Gamgee as a profession for confirmed badasses) (also lbr, blades & pest control, she's all over it). & whether resplendent in a court dress or grimed & sweaty on the battlefield, she's 😍Glorious😍, just ask Faramir aka the Dude Who Gets It. In short: She HAS the RAGE darling (not a typo).

Lady Marian Fitzwalter, The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) Portrayed by: Olivia de Havilland

I love Maid Marian’s arc in the 1938 Robin Hood so much. Because this film makes clear that retelling everything from her perspective would also be really interesting. And it makes this clearest in a scene less than 20 minutes from the conclusion, a final act heightening of tension. This film. The Normans are Nazi-coded, and in the lead-up to the final showdown, when Prince John is going to get himself illegitimately crowned as dictator king, Marian is arrested for the treasonous crime of… trying to inform the rightful king.... [This propaganda is excerpted; read the full post here.]

Princess Buttercup, The Princess Bride (1987) Portrayed by: Robin Wright

[Full Propaganda Under the Cut] Everything Buttercup does, she does for Love. There is none more fit to wear this crown. Cast your votes as you will, my friends, but I know which Lady I champion in this tourney.

For Princess Buttercup:

"I must speak on behalf of Her Highness Princess Buttercup. All she does, she does for love. She loses Westley and so loses the will to live, or truly care if she marries Humperdinck or not -- but when her Westley returns to her, she looks him square in the eye and says "...you're alive. If you asked me, I could fly." And then, at the end of the film, she does. She flies! Floating softly as a feather from the tower window, down to where Fezzik waits with the horses.

"She sacrifices her own happiness to save Westley's life, giving herself over to Humperdinck in exchange. But she never loses faith that Westley will rescue her from the evil Prince -- until the wedding is unfairly rushed to a close. In her lowest moment, she braces to make one last sacrifice, because now -- now that Westley lives -- she cannot bear to be wed to someone she does not love. But Westley appears again to rescue her, and together they escape, but the chase ends at the window. There's no way out but a sheer drop that reaches several stories, surely fatal.

"And Buttercup -- beautiful, faithful, loving Buttercup -- turns to smile at her Farm Boy. She lifts herself to the windowsill... And leaps.

"It is a leap of faith, and what is love if not that? She sails downward, ethereal, gentle as a first kiss. She makes her impossible declaration real, all because she has her Westley at her side."