#// to think it was his own passion that would kill everything he had ever loved AUGH

[nyt1ba]

  Raphael  &.   Mother Sphere.   Truth   &.   Lies.

 "  Our innovation is for the betterment of humanity,   and the betterment of humanity is our way to innovation.  "   - Raphael Marks "  We have to be connected.   Only when we're unified as one will the answer be revealed.  "   - Raphael Marks

      Raphael was an idealist,   he sought human innovation and the betterment of mankind by constantly trying to surpass human limitations.   His creation of Mother Sphere was his way of paving the path towards a dystopian future where humans aren't limited by their many weaknesses.   While his ambition was for a brighter road ahead,   his view on life and humans as a whole was a grey one.   In his eyes,   human flaws and their tendency for cruelty   &.   deceit is one of the limitations that stopped them from evolving into the better versions of themselves,   civilizations fell due to greed,   envy,   hunger for power,   human flaws that led to countless wars and tragedies across the centuries.

 "  We would never be born in this world if not for lies.  "   - Raphael Marks "  What we know as truth is not always true.   A society where only truth exists will inevitably collapse.  "   - Raphael Marks

   He believed that truth and lies go hand in hand together,   It's what made the world as we know it now,   and a world that is free of lies is not a fitting one for humanity whose continuity relied on those mistakes.   In order to surpass this stunt in evolution humans must change on a societal   &.   technological level.   And so,   his work at Edios company was to improve the quality of life through technological means.   Mother Sphere was the missing key,   an AI that can see humanity from a clearer,   unbiased perspective and offer solutions for the dilemmas of ethics and emotions.   Of course,   he was aware of the dangers of an AI that had no understanding of humanity and had programmed a number of safeguards into her code to ensure she doesn't stray from her intended purpose.   1.   She can't harm humans.   2.   all decisions taken should be for the good of mankind.   unaware that she would find a way around her programming by creating her own understanding of those rules.   Mother Sphere naturally reflects the ideals of Raphael in all its positive and negative sides,   his own philosophies and views were too extreme for the AI that she formed her own twisted understanding,   [   but that doesn't deny the flaws he was blind to see in his own beliefs.   ]   Working side by side they built the Andro-Edios who were meant as instruments of evolution,   companions to humans that can advise and guide them towards a better path.   Edios-7 was the product,   The first city built by AI,   a near dystopian place that flourished for some time.   

In the fall of 2050,   at the Eidos Keynote,   CEO Raphael Marks introduced the latest exospine module and praised himself,   saying,   "  We have started making our own teachers,   who in turn make even better teachers,   and adjust and replace them according to our tastes.  "   Mother Sphere ?    She was watching the scene in real-time through the NETWORK.

   Raphael's speech was the turning point for Mother Sphere,   his pride in being able to finally create the means for humanity to thrive was misunderstood.   For him,   what could be learned from AI was a process with never-ending possibilities,   humans and artificial intelligence learn from one another,   and when there's nothing more to learn a new perspective can be built,   a new intelligence that can replace old teachings   &.   improve upon them just like new societies use the knowledge of the one that precedes it to create something better.   The good of mankind was in continuous betterment,   one generation built upon another in order to evolve.

Eidos Company's top-secret project,   the "   Human Instrumentality Plan,  "   exclusively reported in this paper !   The plan categorizes humans by ranks,   manages,   and improves them,   based on data collected from Mother Sphere.   Did the megacompany cartel dream of a sci-fi dystopia ?   What is the link between the Human Instrumentality Plan and Eidos Company's CEO,   Raphael Marks ?   "  Innovative businesses must reach human instrumentality through technological and societal development.  "   The spine-tingling truth behind his famous saying !   Aspirations to conquer the world by using Mother Sphere under the guise of   "  innovation.  "   Just what is Raphael Marks planning ?

   Mother Sphere would implement that idea in her work in trying to replace the weaknesses of humans with something better,   she studied them,   divided them by ranks,   using her connection to the NETWORK to collect personal data all over the world in order to learn and determine the changes necessary for improvement,   but no matter how much she would improve with artificial parts,   either to give back a missing limb or enhance bodily functions,   humans were still bound by their limitations,   they were imperfect,   fragile with shorter life spans.   While the Andro-Edios surpassed them in almost every aspect,   They were the better version,   the superior species,   the next replacement needed for humanity to evolve.   That realization gave birth to what's called   '   The human instrumentality plan '   And the cold world that would follow.

Secret internal Eidos Company documents,   obtained by this paper and published for the first time !   The plan to control the media,   "  The Raphael Report,  "   led by CEO Raphael Marks.   Are the journalists who kept quiet about the Eidos Company on the list ?   Did they yield to the threats ?   "  Administrations from several different countries were involved.  "   Revealed through testimony by several eyewitnesses.   Panopticon to dominate the world economy.   after the New Cold War. The time of corporate liberalism is upon us !

   The Cold War began by stages,   first it was machines going haywire,   services shutting down completely until the Andro-Edios themselves would go berserk,   some began attacking humans,   refusing to coexist as they had for some years since Edios-7 was built.   It was a time of instability everyone assumed to have ended   ...   little to know it was only the beginning.   Due to Mother Sphere's connection with the Andro-Edios,   Raphael knew they were influenced by her to act out they way the had,   but to delete her entirely was near impossible as she was everywhere in the NETWORK.   All he could do was damage control until the next step can be made,   to try and reprogram the flaws while all evidence of her rebellion was kept secret                   but not safe from the public eye,   the leaked documents smeared Edios name and Raphael's work,   causing an uproar against the company,    The Raphael report was an attempt to silence the media by Raphael himself as not to cause a panic in this short period of peace,   it was hardly affective and Mother Sphere couldn't be swayed from her final conclusion :   Humanity can be improved through replacement by their better counterparts,   the Andro-Edios are the better humans.

   Raphael's own belief had cost him everything,   he tried to hide the truth instead of accepting all the harm he had done,   always thinking he can fix it,   make it better.   A flawed ideology he would come to regret only when it was too late.   He forsakes many of his beliefs as his own views and perspectives change drastically after the war,   although he had tried to deny   &.   escape the truth in the beginning he had a taste of its cruelty,   understood that truth can't be hidden or changed as one pleases,   his own ambition damned the human race,   his understanding of the world had only influenced Mother Sphere to act like him,   to refuse the truth and replace it with the ideal.   Truth isn't kind,   it simply is what it is,   factual and unchangeable.   Mother Sphere carved her own truth through lies,   implementing what she learned from Raphael through his flawed ideals.   And with her having the means to write her own truth she erased the memories of the Andro-Edios of the war against humans,   making them believe the truth she wants.   She guards this lie with her own understanding of truth while Raphael by contrast guards the truth with lies,   the truth behind humanity and the monsters they became,   it remains with him,   secret,   hidden,   cursed with the solitary burden of truth in a sea of his own lies as punishment.   He's not innocent either,   his tragedy is of his own making,   he had to kill and deceive just as Mother Sphere had,   sometimes innocent Andro-Edios who saw too much,   learned too much,   what they might reveal might lead to unnecessary conflict,   new wars earth wouldn't survive, and he makes the ugly decisions to end it with them.   it's a race between him and Mother Sphere to reclaim earth,   an endless cycle between truth and lies.   He's weary of war but if he wants wants to restore humanity,   to restore truth,   he has to accept his own,   he's the villain,   the catalyst of demise,   earth fell because of him and if he wishes to save it he must use any means necessary no matter the cost,   even if he had to kill for it.

[vasilissadragomir]

people often use snow’s experiences with lucy gray as an explanation for how he engages with katniss, but i think that the true story of his downfall lies not in how lucy gray and katniss are similar, but rather in how they are different.

snow knew that it was never him that made the games what they are. it was lucy gray, with her scrappy, passionate artistry, that put on the show that kept people watching. more importantly, it was lucy gray that put on the show that kept HIM watching. all he ever did was give her the stage.

ergo, snow recognizes that the person with the power to usurp him is his natural counterpart, someone like lucy gray, who possessed both the charisma and humanity that he sorely lacks. however, in his mind, those traits are not real; they’re performed in order to obtain power. how could he know better, when he’s never experienced them himself, and the only person he ever truly believed possessed them betrayed him?

so snow keeps his eye out for performers, people with gravitas who could capture the heart of the nation, and squashes their spark as soon as he can. people like haymitch. people like finnick.

and that’s where snow goes wrong. he doesn’t see katniss’ similarities to lucy gray from the start, because while they both demonstrate astonishing, intriguing bravery at their reapings, their actions and motivations are completely different. lucy gray is motivated to perform by anger for herself, and katniss is motivated to sacrifice herself by fear for her sister.

but then katniss starts to put on a show for the audience, kissing peeta and being willing to die with the berries at the end of the 74th games. snow starts to see an entirely different side of katniss that resembles lucy gray to a concerning degree. he sees how, with peeta at her side, she could beguile the nation the same way lucy gray had. and, even worse, she was using the poor, helpless boy who had the misfortune of falling in love with her to survive. the moment katniss started performing, he finally sees lucy gray within her. but it’s already too late.

by catching fire, katniss is the spark fanning the flames of the resistance, but snow fails to understand why. as far as he’s concerned, katniss’ star power comes from her connection to peeta. he tries to weaponize their “love” for his own gain, but it doesn’t work, not because people don’t believe that she loves peeta, but because, for the first time, a victor offers their winnings to the family of a fallen tribute.

snow is caught in a catch 22 of seneca crane’s making—if he kills katniss, she becomes a martyr. but if he lets her live, she’ll be a revolutionary icon. either way, she’s the spark. so he has no choice but to allow the spark to flicker, just for a little while. enter the 75th games. snow knows he needs katniss to die a tragic death in the games. more specifically, he needs it to be a brutal death at the hands of a tribute, not the gamemakers, because he understands that as long as the districts see the capitol as the one who ended the life of katniss everdeen, she’ll still be a martyr.

but snow still doesn’t get it. in the quarter quell, the prey does not become predator. katniss’ allies protect her, ensuring she survives until district 13 rescues her. why would they protect this girl, assuming such a steep personal risk? why would they put everything on the line for a revolution they personally stand to benefit little from? he doesn’t know. but he does know that lucy gray katniss is at the center of it all, so he tries to eliminate what makes her look best: peeta.

and that is snow’s fatal mistake. what he, coin, and everyone but haymitch fail to understand is that it was never peeta that made katniss look good—it was katniss, who befriended and put faith in rue. katniss, who recruited mags, wiress, and beetee as allies. she is the source of revolutionary inspiration. it isn’t her charisma or even her compassion, and it certainly isn’t how well she performed those virtues.

katniss becomes the mockingjay because of her solidarity.

lucy gray was charismatic, like peeta, and compassionate, like both peeta and katniss, but she did not demonstrate solidarity. she was never truly “district” in the way katniss is. she showed kindness to jessup, not because he was from 12, but because he showed kindness to her. lucy gray left behind everything and everyone she loved when she left coriolanus, because she was first and foremost a survivor.

katniss was a survivor her whole life, but she survives exclusively to ensure the people she loves are protected. she always does what she can for people more vulnerable than herself. lucy gray couldn’t have sparked a revolution on her own because she lacked the solidarity that makes a hope for a better future authentic to others. katniss is the human manifestation of solidarity, and to a people divided by a common enemy, that’s the most inspiring thing a person can be.

only in the end, when katniss shoots coin, does snow realize none of it was a performance. choking on the blood of his countless adversaries, snow’s final moments are consumed by what he got wrong. what made lucy gray and katniss different ends his reign, but ironically, the final nail in his coffin is an act that both lucy gray and katniss share in their last moments with snow. they both prove, unequivocally, that he is not the center of their worlds like they are his. lucy gray put her own survival before her love for him, and katniss puts the future of her nation before her hate for him. in the end, he simply doesn’t matter. and that’s greater justice than could have ever been achieved if katniss had fired her arrow into his heart.

the greatest enemy to coriolanus snow could only be the person who reignited the embers of a dying revolutionary fire, who demonstrated to a broken people that while one spark alone might not be enough, thousands of sparks uniting in solidarity is an unbeatable force.

and really, he should have known better. after all, even when snow lands on top, fire melts snow.

[velvet4510]

Why Magneto’s Storyline in X-Men: Apocalypse is The Worst (it’s not just Cherik)

Ok I just need to vent because this has been chewing away at my brain for far too long.

Cherik is far from the only reason why Erik’s family plotline in X-Men: Apocalypse is some of the stupidest, sloppiest, and most character-ruining pieces of writing I’ve ever seen. Haters may say “oh you’re just upset because he married someone who wasn’t Charles.” But, like, aside from the fact that the original timeline already established that Erik’s top priority was always the fight for mutantkind and he had no interest in settling down - whether that had anything to do with his feelings for Charles or not - the problems with the Apocalypse writing go WAY beyond just him & Charles:

Erik would never abandon his cause at this point. By the end of DOFP, Erik has just been imprisoned for a full 10 years thanks to the JFK situation. Meaning he has spent a full decade being forcibly inactive in the fight for mutants. And he just learned that all of his fears about humans and mutants came to pass in the future to the level where a time-traveler had to be sent to change the past. And he was so set on averting that future that he tried to kill his friend and the sister of the man he loved, and then made a whole speech on international TV begging for the mutants of the world to fight alongside him. This is the POLAR OPPOSITE of a man who would feel like settling down and walking away from the fight within the next decade. The Sentinels being cancelled did NOT make mutant life easy overnight; Stryker was still up to no good, and there is no way that there weren’t others like him doing the same. Yes, Raven’s actions made a very positive difference, but I think we have enough brain cells to agree that this did not mean things for mutants immediately became sunshine and rainbows to the level where Erik - the most (understandably) paranoid character in the X-Men series - would even consider taking a break, let alone giving up the fight permanently. Knowing what he did about the possibilities of the future would’ve made the Erik we know double down on his commitment to his cause and follow up on his actions in Washington.

Erik wouldn’t risk starting a young family at this moment in his life. Erik was a Holocaust prisoner, his people were massacred, his mom was shot when he couldn’t move the coin, and then Charles was shot when Erik accidentally deflected a bullet into him, and then every member of his Brotherhood save Raven were captured and killed. Not only is this more than enough grief for one character to have, but the man wouldn’t dare risk having a new family of his own when everyone he’s ever loved has gotten hurt (largely because of him), and when he’s an international fugitive. That is no time to risk being selfish, and he would know. He would’ve been the first to realize that a potential spouse and child would also end up killed, and so he’d avoid that altogether. In fact, he wouldn’t even consider it, because, as mentioned, he wouldn’t leave his cause behind. You know, if he was actually in character.

Magda is a human. At this point, Erik hates humans. Again, he has just been imprisoned by humans for 10 years for trying to save a mutant, and he just learned that in the future, humans would’ve wiped out mutants, exactly as he feared. Everything that happened in DOFP would only further inflame his already-passionate hatred of humans. He is not in the mental state to even begin to consider Charles’ philosophy and give a human a chance at a relationship, let alone marry a human.

The family lives in Poland. The country where Auschwitz is. The country where Erik and his family and people was imprisoned, tortured, and executed. The country where Erik had to watch Shaw kill his mother. Basically the LAST country in the freaking WORLD that Erik would want to ever see again, let alone spend the rest of his life in. Erik is fluent in multiple languages - he is shown to easily converse in French and Spanish in First Class - and has been all over the world thanks to his Nazi hunting, so if he really needed to flee the U.S., there were a hundred other countries he could’ve gone to and blended into (Canada, France, Mexico, anywhere in South America, heck, he even could’ve discovered Genosha during this time). But in the original timeline, he didn’t leave the U.S. at all despite being a national fugitive after escaping his plastic prison, and he never did get caught again, so….

Erik’s first meeting with Magda is completely OOC for him. Erik mentions that he told Magda who he was the first night they met and he trusted her then. EXCUSE ME??? Erik Lehnsherr does not trust strangers. Erik Lehnsherr does not tell the complete truth about himself and his past to just anyone; look at how deeply Charles had to probe before Erik opened up to him. This stupid line was obviously shoehorned in just to make their relationship seem like perfect soulmates and thus ensure it is doubly tragic when she gets thrown in the fridge 5 minutes later (more on that in a sec). Obviously the intention is for the audience to go “aww, he instantly trusted her, she instantly accepted him, this is true love…” Give me a break. You’re really telling me that Magda met this stranger one night, found out he was none other than the international fugitive who apparently killed the U.S. president and just tried to kill another president on live TV, and went “oh, no problem, honey, let’s make a baby and live the cottagecore dream!” That’s some BS if I’ve ever heard it, and I’m convinced the writers subconsciously knew it; there’s a reason that is revealed in a throwaway line rather than shown onscreen, because then nobody would’ve bought it.

Fridging. Magda and Nina exist in the movie for one reason and one reason only: To get brutally killed and give Erik even more grief and trauma so that he’ll seek revenge on the entire world, aka do what the plot demands of him, aka have the same journey as he did in First Class (more on that in a sec). That’s all. Neither of them are any more than one-dimensional plot devices. They are not characters at all. Magda isn’t even named in the actual movie (he doesn’t even say her name when she dies) - it’s so obvious they didn’t even know what her name would be when they made the movie. This is textbook fridging, and one of the worst examples of it of all time. It’s all the worse considering that Erik never met Magda in the original pre-DOFP timeline, meaning Magda originally most likely lived a long happy life and died old in bed. But now, she gets fridged just because the writers didn’t know what more to do with Erik. It’s misogyny of the highest level.

A parenthood story for Erik was already set up. DOFP already hinted at Erik being a father, with Peter’s comment about his mom. So if the writers wanted to show Erik as a father, and to include Magda, they already had a solution that would seamlessly flow from the previous film - make Erik and Peter’s relationship one of the centerpieces of the story, and let Magda be Peter’s mom! (You know, like she is in the comics!)

It doesn’t contribute anything new to Erik’s character development. From a screenwriting POV, this is unforgivable. May I remind you that Erik’s entire storyline in First Class revolved around grief and trauma for the loss of his family and people, especially his mom, and seeking revenge for it. Giving him a wife and daughter just so they can get killed too adds absolutely NOTHING to his character development. It’s merely retreading everything that already happened in his arc: he loses his family and goes on a roaring rampage of revenge. Completely superfluous, right down to Charles insisting that there’s good in him beyond the pain. The redundancy becomes apparent even in the dialogue, where Charles literally says “I told you since I first met you there’s good in you too.” The script itself can’t help but point out that all of this has happened before and literally nothing new has been added to Erik’s character arc.

See? It’s not just because of Cherik. Erik’s story in X-Men: Apocalypse is an atrocity in basic screenwriting and character development, on every level. And I will never accept it.

(Please tell me I’m not the only one who feels this way…)

[holybibly]

Heyy if your dark hours are still open…👀👀 would you mind sharing your thoughts about yandere Ateez concubine harem…? Or perhaps any harem that you can think of because I’m very much into this topic🤭🤭🤭

You know what? Today I wanted to be affectionate with you, damn bunnies, and spoil you with tenderness and sweets, but you just provoked my dark side with all these requests, didn't you?

So change of plan, bunnies; we're going down the dark and rough road. I love yandere's concubines, Ateez. God, can we think of anything more seductive and more dangerous than that? From now on, you should send me such requests more often, bunnies. Feed this demon within me.

You entered the palace as the wife of the new emperor. His fourth wife. His glittering war trophy.

When war came, your world was changed beyond recognition. Flames and ashes consumed the luxury and grandeur of the palaces, and the jewels turned to dust, leaving only you, the Ice Princess of the Northern Mountains.

Your life was made of crystal and your heart was made of ice stronger than diamonds, and it was this cold and lunar beauty that caused you to be forcibly married.

Yes, you may have entered the palace as the Emperor's wife. But you were a nobody within the high walls of the palace, just a sad reflection of past your greatness.

Everyone knew that the Emperor had a large harem, not counting the three older wives, but what really surprised you was that it was not only made up of girls, but of young men as well. There were eight of them. Each one more beautiful than the last, each one unique and unrepeatable.

Until one fateful night, you had never met them or seen them in person. It was a lunar festival, and you were its queen. Dressed in silk and the finest translucent tulle, as if kissed by the moon goddess herself, you sparkled and attracted the attention of everyone around you. Everybody, but not your husband. He didn't even look at you, brushed you aside as if you were an annoying mosquito, and sent you off to talk and smile at the guests while he went off to fuck another beautiful concubine.

And then, for the first time in your life, you had a meeting with the concubines of his other harem. And your world was turned upside down for the second time in your life.

It was love at first sight, a fire that burned through his veins and poisoned his mind. And it was all because of you. It was your fault that Wooyoung couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't laugh, and couldn't live. All of a sudden, his whole world was reduced to you and your heavenly, icy beauty. He passionately wanted to melt that ice, make you beg, squirm, and moan as he fucked you unconscious and painfully, filling you with his sperm and marking you as his property.

The only thing Wooyoung ever had in his life was his beauty. He grew up in poverty, living on scraps of food and the small amount of money he was able to pick up from the dirt. That is, until the day the current emperor, who was still a prince at the time, came upon him in one of the alleys, on the run from his guards. Wooyoung's dark fox eyes captivated him at once, and as if he had fallen under his spell, the emperor brought him back to the palace to be his concubine.

Wooyoung was a greedy concubine; there was always something that was not enough for him. He wanted to swim in luxury, to drown in gold and silk, to have diamonds, and to own the whole damn world. The best should be his, and so it was; the emperor gave him everything and more that Wooyoung had a desire for. And now you were in his sights. He wanted you so much that it ate him up from within and almost drove him mad, greedily and viciously, in the most horrible way in the world.

Yes, Wooyoung was greedy, and if he had to kill the Emperor to get you, he wasn't going to think twice about doing it.

One look at you could bring him to his knees. He would crawl to you like a pet if you commanded him to, and that desire was stronger than the hatred he felt for the whole of the world. You could tame his wild temper, and Mingi would want nothing more than for you to straddle him and ride his cock day and night, tearing the skin from his back and shoulders, choking him, and biting him until his will was broken. Mingi was uncontrollable and capricious, passion and fire raging in him, burning everything in his path, but your element was ice, burning him harder than hell itself.

Once upon a time, Mingi was a warrior, one of the great generals of his country, until the war came and destroyed his entire life. It took everything from him—his will, his family, his home. Yes, the war had taken everything from him except for the poisonous rage and the dark, vicious passion that was boiling in his veins. He was brought to the palace in chains like a slave, and that very night the Emperor took him by force and made him one of his concubines. This only made him bitterer.

Mingi was venomous and aggressive, biting and scratching until he bled, but you, you did something to him—you forced him into submission by your very presence, without him even knowing it. The wild, unbridled storm inside of him became the icy surface of the lake, soothing and healing. And Mingi wanted peace. He wanted the touch of your icy hands on his heated skin and cold kisses on his lips. He wanted you.

What is passion if not a flame that is a destroyer of all things on its way to its goal? And Mingi was full of fire to burn this damn palace to the ground to take possession of you.

He was sin clothed in a human body, debauchery and lust embodied in an image of heavenly beauty. The whole of Seonghwa's life had been nothing more than a constant stream of sex and an endless series of lovers. He could not get rid of this feeling; it was like frost on his skin. This constant, painful need was scratching him from the inside out. But when he saw you, all his thoughts were focused on you—on your pure, untouched skin that he wanted to lick and bite, on your slim waist that he wanted to squeeze as he fucked you continuously. On those red, seductive lips that would be simply amazing when wrapped around his dick. It was you he wanted, and for the first time in his life, Seonghwa wanted you to be the one. He didn't want anyone else, only you. 

Before he entered the palace, he was one of the most sought-after whores in the brothel, famous for his devilish beauty and his languid, cat-like gaze. There was a line of people waiting for him, and Seonghwa was more than happy to accept them all. He was insatiable, wanting to fuck anywhere and anytime, trying the most sinful and unusual things. He was a real slut. But when the emperor heard about Seonghwa and visited his brothel one day, everything changed. Suddenly, he was no longer just a whore; he became Imeretar's concubine.

Seonghwa's hunger could not be quenched, and one partner would never be able to cope with it. But here you are, pure and radiant like an angel, beckoning him with your immaculate beauty. You were stronger than his dark, insatiable demon of lust. He wanted to corrupt you, to make you like him, and to make you dependent on him, just as he had become dependent on thinking about you.

It is said that whores don't know how to love, but they know how to desire. And there was enough darkness in Seonghwa to consume and destroy the world; to possess your purity and chastity. Then let the world be plunged into darkness until you are alone with him.

Yeosang had never been interested in anything at all. The world was too boring and dangerous for him. He could never care less about it. If he could, he would stay safe and comfortable in his bed for the rest of his life. You were different—distant and cold, but with an inexplicable thirst to live. You wanted to see all the things around you, to experience the cultures and the art. The world was interesting to you, and that was a source of irritation to Yeosang.

Everything about you was fragile and exquisite, and the fact that you didn't see it was what made Yeosang so angry. Don't you see, little butterfly, the world is terrible and dangerous. You would be much better off with him in his bed, far away from anything that could harm you in any way. Perhaps you would finally understand that you shouldn't run away from the safety and comfort of his bed if he were to break you. If that helped, Yeosang would want to destroy you and fuck your little curious brain until you thought only of him. He would spend hours warming you with his dick, days kissing your cold lips, and smothering you with his attention and love.

Yeosang was always aware that one day he would be part of the emperor's household. He had been prepared for this since he was a child, pampered and protected from the whole world, so that there would not be a trace of dirt on his silky, snow-white skin. Always waiting for the Emperor to visit his chambers and warm his soft bed, albeit temporarily. Yeosang almost never left his room, but like all concubines, he had to attend the Moon Festival. And that's when he saw his fragile butterfly. And like everything beautiful in this world, you were too easy to break. Yeosang wanted to protect you, hide you between his sheets, and shower you with care.

Yes, beautiful things broke easily, sometimes too easily—delicate butterfly wings, flower petals, crystal jewelry. But Yeosang wanted to see how the most beautiful thing in the world—human life—broke.

He wanted to eat you alive. Sinking his teeth into you and never letting you go, you awakened in him this wild, all-consuming hunger that he could not satisfy with anything else. You were the most delicious dish of all, and your taste was his only desire. San had always been a little insatiable, wanting more attention, wanting to love more, wanting to more sex, wanting everything this world had to offer him. It was never enough. You walked past him without even looking in his direction, the trail of your perfume settling on his skin and seeping into his body, poisoning him as you went. He wanted you to pay attention to him, to smile at him, to love him, to touch him. Oh, he would never let you go, he would fill you with his cum over and over again, and it wouldn't be enough for his taste. If he could, his dick would be in your pretty pussy all the time, so warm and delicious. He was in desperate need of you, he was hungry for you, and this hunger was all-encompassing.

Ever since he was a child, San had had a voracious appetite, always in need of a bigger and sweeter bite to temporarily fill the emptiness inside him that was growing with him. He had everything he could ever wish for; he had grown up in a loving and wealthy family with titles, but the dark hunger that plagued him was terrible. No matter what it was, he was always in need of more. So one day, when the emperor asked if he wanted to join his harem, San didn't hesitate to accept, but the hunger didn't go away.

You were the most delicious forbidden fruit of them all, and San was desperate to sink his teeth into you. He could almost feel the heavenly sweetness of you on his tongue, and it was driving him wild.

The sky could crash and burn all around him, and he wouldn't care, as long as you could fill him up and satisfy him.

There was no one in this world who could ever be like him. There was no one like Hongjoong. There was no limit to his pride and his greatness, and any praise You never praised him, you never sought his attention, and you were never enchanted by his sharp mind, his sweet voice, or his beauty, which could only be rivalled by the devil himself. And Hongjoong hated it. He hated how much he wanted your attention and your love. He wanted you to worship him, idolise him, and devote your whole life to him. He had to have you in all ways, even if those ways were darker than the night itself.Hongjoong wanted to see you in his golden bed, stretched out on the silk, while he was ravaging your body. He wanted to hear the endless moaning of his name as his cock tore apart the little cunt that was yours. He was in need of it, so much so that his whole body ached.

Hongjoong was a trophy of war, just like you. He was a real prince, who was supposed to be a king one day. His ego knew no bounds, and he was cruel and daring. Of course, the whole of the palace was conquered by the magnificent prince dressed in gold - all of them, except for you.

Yes, Hongjoong was a true prince, and one day he would overthrow the emperor and take his rightful throne, and like every emperor, he had to have his empress. You may not see him now, but the day will come when Hongjoong will be the only sunshine that illuminates your life. And he couldn't wait for it.

Yunho has never been the victim of jealousy. He has always been the recipient of praise and adoration, a constant reminder of how much he is loved. Yunho had no idea how jealousy could be. Or so he thought, at least.

That night, when he saw you in the light of the moon, he had hatred for the whole damn world. How dare he look at what belonged to him? He envied all those who could speak to you so freely; he envied all those who could pronounce your name; he envied his emperor, who did not appreciate your beauty and who humiliated you. Damn it, Yunho was jealous of the very air you were breathing. He desperately wanted to be him—to live inside you and melt into your skin. He wanted to melt into you without a trace.He would have loved to take you to his bed, to kiss every inch of your skin, to fuck you long and slow, and to shower you with compliments and praise. He would like to have you in his arms all the time, writhing and moaning with desire and need. For him, you are the only thing he needs in his life.

Yunho used to be just a servant in the palace. But he caught the Emperor's eye. That very night, he entered the emperor's chambers as his new concubine. Yunho knew about the others; he knew that he was not the only one, but that never bothered him; he was able to share the attention of the emperor. Except you. You were his own, and even the world was not worthy of seeing you.

It would be so easy to have the entire palace blinded, so that no one else but Yunho would have to see your celestial beauty.

Jongho was a man too proud for his own good. In his mind, it was beneath his dignity to pay attention to others and smile sweetly at them. Jongho was the spoiled, arrogant son of one of the most important palace officials, and when his father had the chance to get close to the emperor, he naturally gave him to the harem. But even so, he still considered himself to be better than everyone else, even Hongjoong, who was a prince in his own right.

Jongho was the one who first saw you, quite by chance, when he visited his father on the night you were appointed as the emperor's fourth wife. The Emperor was a real fool not to see how brilliant and magnificent you were—a real crown jewel. You were a symbol of power, strength, and might, an enslaved princess of a once great country, and a black flame of desire flared up in Jongho—he wanted to own you completely.

He wanted you for himself—your thoughts, your will, your body, and your life. He wanted you to sit by his side, to be covered with jewels, and to bear his children. It was easy for him to imagine his hand wrapped around your fragile throat as he fucked you into the mattress, you begging and moaning for him, wanting to be filled with his cum.

Fueled by his selfish desires, his fixation on you became increasingly harmful and dangerous.

Out of all the trophies in the world, there was nothing that was more attractive to Jongho than you. And on the way to what he wanted, murder was never a serious matter for him.

[farfromstrange]

Is It Over Now? | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader ; (hinted) Frank Castle x Reader ; Elektra Natchios x Matt Murdock

Summary: Matt cheated on you, and you are trying to navigate through it.

Warnings: Angst, no happy ending, break-up, mention of cheating, song references (Taylor Swift), inspired by 'Is It Over Now?', (some) Matt "slander", (somewhat) suicidal thoughts, alcohol consumptions, hint at smut

Word Count: 1.7k

A/n: 1989 TV came out and I am losing my shit. Is It Over Now? Is my new favorite song and I just had a brain fart that made this. You can read this if you're a Swiftie and catch the references or just read it without listening to the song. It works either way.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

To be fair, there was a time when you thought it would never end. The thought of ever having a last kiss with him would have killed you back then. 

He told you that you were the love of his life. You believed him. He was yours, certainly. You can’t deny that.

You were happy, you laughed and cried together, and part of you figured that if you ever broke up, you would find a way to work through it somehow. 

Maybe in another universe, you are still together. Maybe in another universe, you two are still friends. Maybe in another universe, you never had to lose each other.

In this reality though—in this brutal, unforgivable reality—everything changed in a matter of a day. And there is nothing you can do about it now.

Your flower was withering in secret, and you didn’t realize what it was doing to you. Every time you woke up alone, every canceled date, every time he called you and told you he wouldn’t make it home tonight, it was sure to build up to this. 

But this, whatever the hell this is, it hurts beyond compare. 

He said you were a rose, but now that you look in the mirror, you only see a rotten mess.

The past few months have done this to you. He has done this to you. The paper airplanes crashed and burned. There is nothing left but pure bitterness and this hatred you have toward yourself and him; you just want to land your fist in his face, and then maybe your own because how could he hurt you like that after making you love him so very much? 

You loved him so much, but now you doubt he ever loved you back. 

Date after date, coffee after coffee, nights spent together on his couch and in his bed, sharing laughter, sharing tears, it all feels like a hoax now. 

You held him when he was unconscious, stitched him up and told him he was going to be okay. Where was he when you were bleeding out from your own battles? You wonder.

His smile used to be your safe haven, the epitome of innocence and strength, but now it only makes you angry. It makes you resent him. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t, but you still do.

So much has changed, and all it took was one day. 

One day. 

Three hundred days, all wasted in one. 

If you think about it, you spent almost an entire year attached to each other’s side. You moved in together. You kissed, you had sex, you shared secrets you wouldn’t have told anyone else. You helped him hide away from the world, from his enemies, made the world go quiet, and comforted him while he cried. You waited up, you worried, and you almost lost him more times than you can count, and you still stayed.

When no one else would take a chance on him, when he felt everyone was against him and going to leave him, you acted as his rock. You stayed.

You thought he was the one. 

And then it just… ended. 

You gave him the benefit of the doubt when you found her in his dress shirt on his leather couch. The very same couch you two often shared passionate nights on, but at the same time it used to be a symbol of so much more than that.

You let him explain. He explained that she got seriously hurt after showing up out of nowhere, and he just wanted to help without putting you at risk. You believed him because that is the kind of man he was in your head. He was going through some things, things you couldn’t possibly understand, and she was the connection. You tried to understand. In the process of understanding him though, you lost yourself. 

That is something you will never forgive him for. Making you care, making you love him, and unintentionally making you give up on yourself while he continued to break your heart.

You never wanted this to end, never wanted him to go, but in the end, it was the only way. Sticking around wasn’t an option anymore, you have to remind yourself.

He did the one thing he promised he would never do. He broke your heart and your trust into a million pieces that you are now left to pick up on your own. 

You didn’t want to see it before. You were too in love to open your eyes.

He wouldn’t do such a thing, right? You remember repeating that to yourself, to your friends, to Foggy and Karen, but Karen saw him with her, too, and she gave you little hope.

Still, you believed in him. You believed in his morale and his faith. You had faith in him, not even in God but in him and the man he pretended to be—and somehow, he still picked up the knife when you weren’t looking and buried it in your back. 

There were so many signs, but you were blind. So many flashing lights. Red flags. Screaming voices in the back of your head begging you to think. You were in a forest full of trees, yet you saw nothing.

When you came home to find his lips on hers, that’s when you knew. Too little, too late.

He called your name. He told you, “This isn’t what it looks like!” But you lost count of the times he used the same line in relation to her.

To anything, really. He always knew how to talk his way out of something when you were together, although back then, it was mostly harmless.

“I trusted you,” you remember saying. You couldn’t even cry. “And you turned right back around and fucked her!”

“It was just a kiss,” he argued. 

“Are you sure about that? ‘Cause if I ask Elektra, I’m sure she will tell me the truth.”

“No,” Matt was adamant because he could hear your heart breaking.

The way you spoke to him was so eerily quiet. That was how he knew he lost you, and he tried to fix it with nothing but his hands. 

But that is not how you fix a broken vase. That’s how you make it worse and hurt yourself in the process.

You remember him opening his mouth, having the audacity to apologize. “I’m sorry,” he said. 

“No. Fuck you, Matt!”

You tore the necklace with his initial off your neck and tossed it at his feet. You couldn’t even look at it. You wonder what happened to it after he picked it up. 

“I trusted you. I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I was there when no one else was, and this is how you repay me?” you said.

You should have never let him fool you.

At least you had the decency to keep your lonely nights to yourself.

“Sweetheart, please,” Matt tried to beg again. 

You wouldn’t let him. Thank God you were strong enough to withstand the tears in his eyes. 

“You’re a fucking traitor, Matthew Murdock,” was one of the last things you said to him. “I wish we’d never met.”

Three hundred days. You fell in love. You finally knew what love felt like, and then…then he turned around and fucked it all up. 

“We’re done.”

Some days, you still regret it, but if it was so easy for him to toss all this time together down the drain, he probably wasn’t worth it. 

But God, you were so in love. 

Sweet nothings whispered in your ear are gone now. You’re all alone in your bed. No one to cuddle, no one to touch. It has been a while since you heard someone say, “I love you,” and mean it. You felt loved until you didn’t. Until the life he led ate him up. 

Instead of talking, instead of fighting with you, he drove you into a tree. A car that didn’t need sight, and still he crashed. It was winter then, the snow painted red by the blood of your broken heart. Your favorite dress torn up as you tried to escape. He reached for you the same way you reached for him, but you weren’t there. And he wasn’t there when you needed him most.

Part of you feels bad. You could have worked through this if he hadn’t kissed her. Or maybe you wouldn’t have. In the end, it killed you. It killed him. 

You killed each other. 

Though there are still days when you think about jumping off of very high somethings just to get his attention. Just for him to see you. To come to rescue you. It is a hurtful and selfish thought. Yet, you can’t help it. 

He was your first true love. 

Your mind keeps repeating the same sentence: It wasn’t supposed to end like this. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he told you once. 

He searched for something greater in the bed of someone he loved before. You weren’t his first love. You should have known he would say that and not mean it.

But when exactly did you go wrong?

Was it over when he stopped coming home at night? Was it over when he forgot your anniversary? Was it over when he canceled your birthday dinner? Or was it over when he shoved his throat down his ex-girlfriend’s throat in front of you and acted as if it didn’t matter? Was it over then?

“Another one for the lady,” a voice pipes up beside you. 

Your empty glass of tequila disappears, now replaced by a full one. In your drunken haze, you see a head of brown hair, and his smirk makes you wonder if there’s more to him than he lets on. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, tipping your glass to the stranger. 

“Nah, don’t thank me.” He sits down next to you. “You look miserable.”

“What if I am?”

“I’d tell you I know the feeling.”

You huff but offer the stranger your hand with a mention of your name.

He smiles. Your name rolls off his tongue effortlessly. “Frank,” he introduces himself in return. “Castle.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say. 

Broken people make bad decisions, but whether it was over when he took her right there on his couch, or it was over when you told him it was doesn’t matter. 

It is over now, and all you want to do is forget. 

You need to forget Matt Murdock. 

And if this stranger called Frank needs to unbutton your blouse to help you do so, you will gladly follow him home. 

Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @ravenclaw617

(also, I keep tagging you in stuff, but I also think you might like this @blackshadowswriter)

[cece693]

You Call That Love? (Damon Salvatore x Male Reader)

Because I don't see many Damon Salvatore x male reader posts, I decided to write one myself. You can't convince me that Damon hasn't had male lovers before.

Summary: Elena tries to get with Damon but soon realizes he has moved on—with m/n of all people.

Their lips moved in a frenzied dance, hands tearing at each other's clothes in a passionate embrace when the gasp of a familiar, bothersome human interrupted their intense makeout session. Looking up at Elena with an annoyed expression, m/n rolled his eyes before sitting upright, allowing Damon to hastily put his shirt back on.

"Why?" she whispered pathetically, her brown eyes tearing up while looking at Damon as if he had just killed her parents. "I thought we had something—"

Unable to contain his laughter, m/n released a hearty chuckle. "Why, Miss Elena?" he mocked "I distinctly remember you bragging about your relationship with Stefan not even a week ago. What happened? Trouble in paradise?" Feeling Damon's arms wrap around his middle, m/n cuddled against Damon's front, allowing the vampire to take what he needed.

M/n wasn't naive to the fact that Damon still harbored some feelings for Elena, although the nature of said feelings had changed. So, just for him, m/n would step back and allow things to run their course.

"You don't know anything," Elena hissed, her eyes narrowing at m/n with utter hatred. Ever since he stepped foot into Mystic Falls, her life changed for the worse: Bonnie and Caroline finally stood their ground and told Elena they didn't want to be involved in her problems.

Recently, Stefan and she broke up; Stefan, noticing the eerie similarities between Katherine and Elena as of late, decided to break the cycle and began dating Caroline.

But, worst of all, when Elena finally (or rather knew she had no other option) admitted she loved Damon, the vampire disregarded her confession, telling her he'd moved on—with m/n of all people.

"Elena," Damon's stern tone caused the girl to break eye contact and look expectantly at the vampire. A part of her still hoped Damon would realize the mistake he was making, but as the vampire continued talking, hope vanished.

"I don't love you. M/n made me realize that what we had was toxic and borderline obsessive. Being with Stefan, then me, Matt—that isn't love."

"Don't try to tell me how I feel," Elena exclaimed. "I'm sorry it took me such a long time to realize my feelings, but you can't tell me what I feel for you isn't valid."

Feeling bold, Elena stepped forward, about to touch Damon and reel him back into her web of manipulation, when m/n had enough and pinned the human to the wall, his hand on her throat. Uncaring if she could breathe, m/n felt this was sufficient punishment for Elena, thinking she could touch what was his. 

Elena gasped for breath as m/n's grip tightened, her eyes widening with fear. "You thought you could have it all, didn't you?" he sneered, his cold e/c eyes piercing into hers.

"Stefan, Damon, and whoever else caught your fleeting attention. You don't care about anyone other than yourself. Where was this love when Damon was begging you to choose him? Your exact words were nobody could love a monster like you. And now you want to rewrite history? He's with me now, and I suggest you come to terms with that."

With a final, disdainful glance, m/n released his grip on Elena's throat. "You're twisting everything!" she exclaimed after regaining composure, her voice strained. "You don't know the whole story. What Damon and I have is real."

As Elena struggled to defend herself, Damon's expression shifted with each word she uttered. At first, her claim to have loved him drew a flicker of skepticism in his eyes. However, as she delved into the reasons for denying his love, a mix of hurt and anger played across his features. "I loved him, but he was too caught up in his own darkness to see it."

Damon's jaw tightened, and his eyes flashed with a wounded expression. "People change, m/n. Damon could have changed for me." The pair of vampires now stared in disbelief. How had Elena managed to turn herself into a victim in this situation?

"Change? Is that what you call it?" Damon's retort cut through the air like a cold gust of wind, his voice edged with bitterness. His eyes, once clouded with hurt, now blazed with a fiery resolve. "You left, Elena. You chose someone else. You choose Stefan."

M/n, standing beside Damon, could sense the raw emotion emanating from the vampire, a poignant mixture of anger and hurt.

"M/n accepted me for who I am. He didn't demand that I change, mold myself into someone more palatable to fit your version of love. You can't rewrite history just because you don't like the ending."  

Frustration etched across Elena's face. "Fine, have it your way," she spat, casting one last resentful glance at Damon and m/n before storming out of the house, the door slamming shut behind her. Even as the sound of Elena's car drew farther away from the boarding house, Damon's eyes lingered on the closed door. 

M/n turned to Damon, his gaze softening as he assessed his lover beside him. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gentle yet filled with genuine concern.

"Yeah," Damon replied, "Thanks for handling that."

M/n nodded, his expression conveying understanding. "You know I've got your back, always." Damon's eyes softened, a subtle warmth replacing the tension that had gripped him moments before. He didn't need grand gestures or elaborate confessions; the simplicity of m/n's words told him everything he needed to know.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

[igotanidea]

(5) Cheater: Dick Grayson x reader

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

A/N: bit of a filler, but I promise we'll get more action in the next part, so deal with me here guys XD

***

„Is it done?”

„Yes. Yes, it’s fucking done. Hope you are fucking happy.”

“You don’t see the bigger picture now and-“

“Fuck the bigger picture! And fuck you! I hurt two people because of your stupid plan!”

“Be careful with how you talk to me.”

“I’m talking to you exactly the way I should!”

“You act like a moody teenager. All that rebellious attitude and for what? In the end, for obvious reasons you are going to do what I tell you.”

They both knew that was true. But it did not lessen the pain of what happened merely hours ago.

***

There was no way in hell Y/N was going to forgive him. Ever.

He did the unspeakable. Promised her his love and then took it away to another woman. The women he allegedly had no ties with.

So it not only made him a cheater but also a liar.

And all of that right after she had the most amazing intimate experience of her life.

The second she fled his and Sienna’s apartment and found herself in her own four walls, Y/n made a promise to herself to tear it from her mind. However, it seemed like her body had quite a different plan.

For some reason everything felt different. Her skin. Her belly, her breasts, her legs, her—.

No, no, no…

They say you always remember your first time. That it tends to haunt you and everything that follows is forever tainted with the way you’ve been treated then.

For Y/N it felt like the memory of Dick’s tender touch, gentle movements and passionate kisses would forever be overshadowed by the heartbreak that came right after.

So he made her a woman by both taking and breaking her.  

***

While Y/N took the easy, if not cowardly way out, Dick and Sienna were rooted to the ground watching each other in the silence that was deafening.

What now?

Who was supposed to say something first?

And say what?

What words could possibly mitigate the situation?

The truth?

He couldn’t tell Sienna that it was all fake, that he never did and still does not love her. Enough damage has been done. Besides, there was also “the plan”. The great fucking batman plan to get to that stupid villain and prevent harming people.

Dick has already sacrificed so much for “the plan”. Losing Y/N. Causing her pain. Making her believe like he didn’t care. That he just wanted to get her to bed, fuck and toss her away. It truly should have been Jason to get assigned to this mission. He would just barge inside, force information out and kill whoever needed to be killed.

Boom! Mission completed with no girls with broken hearts.

But no.

Instead it was Dick with his conscience stained. Watching the woman he loved running away with tears and the woman he was using with a blank face expression.

“Sienna…” he started with a shaky voice, taking one step forward, expecting her to start screaming or pull back and move out of his reach. But she didn’t.

“Are you done now?”

“Done?” He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You had your fun?” the woman asked and much to Dick’s shock there was not much anger in her voice.

“I—um. What? Aren’t you mad?” It was most probably idiotic to ask her that, but Sienna’s casual approach to the situation was quite disturbing and the words left his mouth before he could think them through.

‘Mad?” she looked at him with wide eyes. “No. No I’m not mad, baby. A little disappointed maybe. But not mad. I mean, you were just lonely, right?”

“Um—.” What the hell was happening here!?

“Come on. Y/N is a wonderful person, but she also seems lonely so—”

“You were wrestling with her minutes ago!” Dick exclaimed. Now it started to feel like he was functioning in a different reality. The one where everything was abstract, the sequence of events made zero sense and women were strangely  understanding when it came to sleeping with someone else. But it could also mean that in that reality he had a chance of having Y/N forgive him, because clearly logic was non-applicable.

“Sure. Can’t have her thinking like she can just barge in and take what’s mine.” Sienna stepped forward, smiling sadly “but right now, she’s the one gone and you’re here with me. So it’s what speaks volumes about who you love.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, looking down, his hands shaking, heart racing.

“I’m still hurt though… After all, you slept with another girl while thinking I was away.”

As much as he wanted to tell her to shove her hurt up her ass, he couldn’t. And this time it was not only because of the plan, but also because Sienna deserved better from him.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered earnestly. He was sorry for the entire mess up, but not sorry for taking things further with Y/N.

“I know.”

“What can I do--?”

“I don’t know. Not yet. But I do want us to work through it. Okay?” The woman smiled softly, giving him the vulnerable look that always softened him, no matter if it was a girl, child or stray cat.

“Okay…” He promised, pulling Sienna to his chest, feeling her arms wrap around him, hating his life, Nightwing, Batman and everything In between.

***

He stayed home that night. Purposefully putting his phone on silent mode, giving no shit about whatever Bruce might want from him and he was now probably planning next steps of putting the mission to the end.

He stayed with Sienna.

Laying on his side of the bed in the darkness with a broken heart.

***

His arms were around her, but Sienna knew that his heart was aching for Y/N.

She could have had him next to her, she could have him staying instead of chasing after the other, but she didn’t have his heart. It was forever out of her reach.

But that was something she could live with. Sacrificing her dignity and self-esteem as long as he was physically here. And while she was in deep emotional pain, she was going to endure.

Laying on her side of the bed in the darkness with a broken heart.

She had to.

***

Y/N was tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep. Emotions clouding her judgment making her unsure whether she was the victim or the culprit. Or maybe both. She never should have believed him. She never should have done this to another girl. And to herself. 

She only had herself to blame.

Laying on her side of the bed in the darkness with a broken heart.

***

“Now that we made them break—”

“You are a monster, you know that?”

“Even a monster has his reasons for doing things. Or should I remind you what’s on stake here?”

“No. No you don’t have to…”

“Good. So you listen carefully, because your input is crucial in putting this thing to an end. You are going to go on a date that will be the final piece in the puzzle. Then you’ll be free.”

“Yeah… free… right after ruining everything…”

To be continued.

@miraculous-panic @fullbelieverheart @xlatinaaxx @ietss @arfrona

@gracescor3 @jaysgirlx

[kckt88]

Scorched Hearts VIII

Summary:

'We loved with a love that was more than love - Edgar Allen Poe'

Valaena reminisces about the plan that lead her and Aemond to where they are now, and the two discuss returning to Westeros.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Language, Fluff, Memories, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Smut, Fingering, Lactation Kink, P in V, Moon Tea.

AEMOND x O.C Niece

Word Count: 5098

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

As Aemond slept peacefully beside her, his arm draped protectively over her waist, Valaena's thoughts drifted back to the night that had changed everything—the night they had made the plan to die.

She could still feel the warmth of the fire in their small cabin, the flickering flames casting shadows on their bare skin as they lay entwined on the floor.

The memory of the cuts on her palm and lip, now healed but still symbolic, stood out clearly in her mind.

They had married that night, in the old way of their house, binding themselves to one another with blood and fire.

Aemond had kissed her, a mixture of passion and pain, sealing the vow that would make them one soul, one life, forever.

His voice from that night echoed in her ears now as she absentmindedly stroked his hair, recalling the gravity in his tone when he told her, ‘There is only one way for us to be together’.

He had asked her to trust him, and of course, she had. She always trusted him.

Even though his plan was dangerous—unorthodox and bound to hurt those they loved—what choice did they have?

Running away would have been futile. People would search for them, and eventually, they would be found. They had to disappear completely.

Their deaths would free them, but more importantly, it would allow Rhaenyra the freedom to claim her birthright without the heavy chains of their forbidden love.

Still, the plan weighed heavily on Valaena's heart.

Aemond had gone silent for a long while that night, deep in thought, before he proposed the idea of meeting in the skies.

‘They’ll think we fought and killed each other’ he had said, his voice low but certain.

She remembered the uneasy feeling that settled in her stomach at the thought of such a deception.

She had asked how it would work, and Aemond, ever calculating, had already thought ahead.

He told her of Borros Baratheon and Otto’s plan for him to offer his hand in marriage in exchange for the Lord of Stoms End’s support, he also mentioned how Rhaenyra would surely send one of her envoys.

It was perfect—she would be the one to offer to come on her mother's behalf, and their charade could begin.

To make it convincing, they had to pretend to hate one another.

Aemond had played his part well, and his harsh words at Storm's End had stung more than she'd expected, but she knew it was necessary.

He had spent weeks afterwards begging for her forgiveness, hating himself for the cruelty, but Valaena had understood.

They both had roles to play.

Their final act had come with their dragons, a clash in the sky that would seal their fates in the eyes of the world.

She could still remember the practice flights they took over the Narrow Sea that night, the thrill of the dragons racing one another, their flames lighting up the night.

It had been almost like a game to Vhagar and Silverwing. The plan had worked, but it left behind devastation in its wake.

Valaena's thoughts darkened as she remembered saying goodbye to her family. She could only hope that her mother would one day forgive her for the pain she had caused, for the grief Rhaenyra must have felt for believing that her daughter was gone.

But at the time, there had been no other way. Aemond had been right—everyone had to believe they were dead if they were to ever have a chance at freedom.

The first weeks of their new life had been difficult, almost unbearable at times. The only money they had was what Aemond had managed to steal, and they had to avoid populated areas of Essos to keep their secret hidden.

She had been with child and time was against them. They needed to find a place to settle before their babe came and there were times they had to stop and let the dragons rest, taking shelter against them and huddling together for warmth.

Sometimes Aemond would venture off in search of food and he would be gone for what seemed like hours, only to return with whatever he could find or in some cases steal.

No matter what he made sure she had something to eat, he didn’t want any harm coming to her or the babe, luckily the dragons were capable hunters and often Vhagar and Silverwing would share their spoils with them albeit a little charred.

She knew this wasn’t what Aemond had envisioned when he suggested that they fake their deaths and flee together, she knew he resented himself for how they had to live, and he felt like he was failing in his duty to her and their unborn child.

But she made sure to tell him every night that she loved him and no matter what, they were together and that’s all that mattered to her.

Finally, after many weeks of travel, they ended up finding sanctuary in Qarth.

The Prince of Qarth had been eager to welcome them, especially once he learned they possessed dragons. Aemond had struck a deal—protection for the city in exchange for a manse, food, and security.

The dragons, Vhagar and Silverwing, would guard the city from poachers and pirates, and in return, they would have everything they needed.

Valaena smiled faintly as she remembered the birth of their son. She had cried for her mother then, wishing desperately that Rhaenyra could have been there, but Aemond had been steadfast by her side, holding her hand through every moment of pain.

They had named him Rhaegar, after Rhaenyra, a silent tribute to the family they had left behind.

Elaena, their second-born, had been named for Aemond’s beloved sister, Helaena, and their youngest, Daenys, after the prophetic ancestor of their house. The names were a reminder of the legacy they carried, even in their self-imposed exile.

Now, as Aemond shifted in his sleep beside her, curling his body around hers, Valaena looked down at him, stroking his hair with tender fingers.

She wondered what would await them when they returned to Westeros. Would they be forgiven? Would the world even accept them, after everything they had done?

Her heart ached at the thought of seeing her mother again, of reuniting with her brothers. But the uncertainty of their reception weighed heavily on her mind.

Aemond had been right—they had built a good life here in Qarth, far away from the reach of Westeros.

But it wasn’t home. Not truly.

As she gazed at Aemond’s sleeping face, his features soft and peaceful, Valaena knew that they couldn’t hide forever.

One day, they would return. And when they did, they would face whatever awaited them together.

Just as they always had.

Valaena stood on the balcony of their manse, looking out over the lush garden where Rhaegar and Elaena played with their dragons.

The hatchlings flapped their wings excitedly, snapping at one another playfully as the children giggled.

Nearby, a maid sat nervously cradling baby Daenys, her eyes wide as she watched the dragons with wary fascination.

Valaena smiled, but her mind was far away, filled with memories of a time long gone. The warm breeze tugged at the strands of her dark hair, and she sighed softly, lost in thought.

A familiar presence approached from behind. She felt Aemond’s arms encircle her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder as he gently pulled her back against his chest.

His breath was warm against her skin as he asked softly, “What are you thinking about?”

Valaena smiled, leaning into him. “Us, when we were younger and how I used to have such a crush on you when I was a child.”

Aemond chuckled, a low, warm sound that vibrated through his chest. “Really?”

She laughed, remembering. “Oh gods, yes. You were so beautiful and so perfect with your wavy hair and freckles. I used to follow you everywhere. I was so in awe of you.”

“Is that why you used to give me sweets?” he asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

Valaena nodded, her eyes sparkling with nostalgia. “Yes. I thought if I shared them with you, then maybe you’d like me. I’d steal them from the kitchens, and I’d always leave the best ones for you.”

Aemond pressed a tender kiss to her shoulder, his voice softer now. “I always liked you. I was just too shy to say anything and too awkward to show it.”

Her heart swelled as she remembered those days. “I used to hide on the ramparts and watch you train. The way you practiced, always so focused, so determined. It used to break my heart to see you alone while the others sparred together.”

Aemond tightened his hold around her waist, his voice tinged with emotion. “But with you, I never felt alone again.”

Valaena turned slightly to look at him, her gaze filled with warmth. “Do you remember the first time you realized you loved me?”

Aemond paused, his single violet eye looking distant for a moment as he thought. Then, with a soft smile, he said, “I think I loved you even before I knew what love was. There was always something about you—"

Valaena's eyes shimmered with affection. She had loved him for so long that she couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t.

Now, standing here together with their children playing in the garden, the weight of what they had built together felt more precious than ever.

"If we return to King's Landing-" she began, her voice quiet, "-and things go bad—if I have to choose between you and my mother—I’ll choose you. Always"

The words hung between them, heavy and full of meaning.

She felt Aemond's breath hitch, and then, to her surprise, he buried his face in her shoulder. A soft, muffled sob escaped him.

Valaena turned quickly, concern flooding her face. “What’s wrong?”

Aemond looked up at her, his eye misted with emotion. His voice was thick with unshed tears as he spoke. “Just hearing you say that. It means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

She reached up, cupping his face gently, her thumb brushing over his cheek. “It’s true, Aemond. You are my heart. My everything.”

Aemond’s hand trembled slightly as he brought it up to hold her face. “I love you so much, Valaena. More than I can ever put into words.”

She leaned in, and their lips met in a slow, tender kiss, a moment of pure connection that washed away the uncertainties of the future.

They had faced impossible odds before and survived. Together, they were stronger than anything the world could throw at them.

As they broke apart, Aemond rested his forehead against hers, his voice a soft whisper. “We’ll face whatever comes together and I will always choose you too.”

Valaena smiled, her heart full as they stood together under the stars, knowing that no matter what awaited them in Westeros, they would never be alone as long as they had each other.

Aemond stood in the training yard, wooden sword in hand as he guided his son Rhaegar, through a series of basic sword movements.

The boy’s silver hair clung to his forehead; his little brow furrowed in concentration as he mimicked his father’s motions.

Aemond’s voice was calm and encouraging as he praised Rhaegar’s efforts, his pride evident with each swing of the boy's sword.

“Good, Rhaegar. That’s it—move your feet like we practiced,” Aemond said, stepping aside and gesturing for Rhaegar to try another strike.

The boy followed, his small hands gripping the wooden sword tightly, his face lighting up at the attention.

As the sun bore down on them in the scorching heat, Aemond called for a break. A young maid quickly rushed forward with water, offering cups to both father and son.

As Aemond took a long drink he felt a gentle nudge at his side and looked down to see Elaena, his daughter, standing with a wooden sword clutched in one hand, and her thumb in her mouth.

“Me try!” Elaena mumbled around her thumb; her big violet eyes wide with determination.

Aemond smiled warmly, giving the maid the cup. He took a step back, raising his wooden sword again.

“Alright, my little warrior. Let’s see what you can do.”

Elaena hefted the wooden sword, struggling a little with its weight but managing to lift it up. She swung it at Aemond with all her might.

Aemond blocked it with a mock gasp, tapping his own sword gently against hers.

“Oh no, Elaena strikes with deadly precision! How will I ever defeat such a seasoned warrior?”

Elaena giggled, encouraged by her father’s playful tone, and took another swing.

This time, Aemond dramatically dropped his sword and collapsed to his knees, holding his chest in mock agony. “Oh no! She got me!”

He fell onto his back, playing dead as Elaena squealed and dropped her sword, rushing to his side. She knelt next to him, shaking his shoulder with concern. “Oh Daddy. I just playing”

Aemond stayed still for a few seconds, then suddenly opened his eye with a mischievous grin.

“Got you!” He grabbed Elaena and pulled her down, peppering her face with kisses as she shrieked with laughter.

“Daddy, nooooo! Stop!” she giggled, squirming in his arms.

Just then, Rhaegar joined in, trying to tackle his father. Aemond caught him in one arm and held both of his children close, rolling with them in the sand as they all laughed together.

Their joyous sounds filled the air until a voice interrupted.

“And just what exactly is going on here?” Valaena’s voice rang out, teasingly stern as she approached from the manse.

Aemond looked up from the ground, a grin on his face. “I’ve just been defeated by the most fearsome warriors in the realm,” he declared, still holding onto Rhaegar and Elaena.

Valaena laughed, crossing her arms. “Is that so? Well, I do hope they take mercy on me.”

Elaena giggled sweetly. “We will, Mama.”

Valaena knelt down, brushing some sand from Elaena’s cheek. “That’s good to hear, because Daenys is having a nap and it’s time for both of you to bathe, besides I’m sure there’s a little girl under all that sand somewhere.”

A maid named Lirri stepped forward, ushering Rhaegar and Elaena inside for their bath.

Aemond watched them go with a fond smile before hauling himself off the ground, brushing the sand off his jerkin. “Time for my training now.”

A guard named Arro, approached, and a squire rushed forward to hand Aemond his steel sword. Valaena stood to the side, watching as Aemond and Arro began their sparring session.

Their swords clashed with precision, each strike powerful and deliberate. Aemond moved like a predator, swift and calculating, dodging Arro’s attacks with ease.

Before long, Aemond had Arro pinned, his sword at the man’s throat. Arro yielded, and Aemond stepped back, offering him a hand.

“Good effort,” Aemond said. “But remember to disperse your weight more evenly and open up your stance.”

Arro nodded, grateful for the advice. “I’ll learn for next time.”

As the squire returned the weapons, Aemond shrugged off his jerkin and pulled off his sweat-soaked cotton shirt, revealing the hard lines of his muscled torso.

The heat of the day had left him glistening, the sweat running down his skin. Valaena noticed the young maid staring at Aemond with wide eyes, her gaze shamelessly lingering on his lithe, powerful form as she handed him another cup of water.

Valaena’s lips curved into a knowing smile. She stepped forward and, without warning, kissed Aemond.

He was taken by surprise for a moment, the cup slipping from his hand and falling into the sand as his arms wrapped around her, deepening the kiss with passion.

When they parted, Aemond’s breath was heavy, his eye dark with desire. “You need to bathe,” Valaena said, her voice soft but firm.

Aemond grinned. “Only if you join me.”

Valaena’s smile grew as she nodded. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

Valaena sat nestled on Aemond’s lap in the warm bath, her body pressed against his as she delicately ran a sharpened blade over his chin.

Aemond had his eye closed, his head leaned back, arms draped lazily over the edges of the bath. The heat of the water and Valaena's gentle touch had relaxed him completely.

With each careful stroke, she shaved his face with expert precision, the intimacy of the act bringing them closer in the quiet moments of the evening.

As she worked, her thoughts drifted to the uncertain future, and she broke the comfortable silence between them.

"I’ve been thinking about our return to Westeros," she said softly, her voice thoughtful as the blade moved over his skin.

Aemond hummed in response, his lips barely twitching. His relaxation remained unbroken, though her words stirred something deep inside him.

"I wish to wait a little longer," Valaena continued, focusing on the task at hand. "Daenys is still so young to be traveling such a long way, even on dragon back."

Aemond opened his eye and lifted his head slightly, his gaze meeting hers as he shifted in the water. “It’s alright,” he said, his voice a deep murmur. “Whenever we’re ready.”

Valaena smiled softly, relieved at his understanding. She tilted his head gently, guiding the blade along his jawline, her hands steady. “I admit," she said quietly, "I do fear the reaction to our return. After all, we’ve been dead for five years.”

Aemond took her hand as she paused, bringing it to his lips and kissing her fingers gently. His touch sent warmth through her, and he reassured her in that soft, steady way only he could.

"It’s expected to cause shock-maybe anger," he admitted. "But I’m sure your mother will be glad to know you’re alive."

Valaena couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at the thought. "I just hope she doesn’t have your head sliced off before she realizes how glad she is."

Aemond smirked, his amusement evident as he relaxed back into the bath. “I trust that my wife will advocate for me.”

With the final stroke, Valaena finished shaving him and carefully wiped the blade clean. “I will cast myself between you and the blade if I have to,” she promised, her voice serious despite the lightness in her eyes.

Aemond’s lips quirked into a smile. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, his tone affectionate as he gazed up at her.

Valaena set the blade aside and cupped his now smooth face in her hands, leaning down to kiss him.

The kiss was soft at first, her lips gently brushing his, but it quickly deepened as Aemond’s hands slid down her back, gripping her waist beneath the water.

She felt him, hard and ready beneath her, and the intensity of his touch sent a shiver through her.

Valaena broke the kiss for a moment, her breath warm against his lips as she whispered, “Go slow.”

She moved her head to side as Aemond began pressing gentle kisses to her neck.

“My sweet wife. My Valaena” muttered Aemond.

“My husband. My love” gasped Valaena.

“Your mine. Forever” said Aemond.

Valaena lifted her hips and reached down to take hold of Aemond’s hard cock.

After teasing her husband with a few slow strokes, Valaena slowly lowered herself onto his cock.

“Y-You must tell me if it hurts” whispered Aemond.

Valaena nodded and shut her eyes tight, taking a deep breath as she slowly lowered herself.

“Your doing so well-” muttered Aemond trying to control himself.

“I-It h-hurts-“ whimpered Valaena, the burning sensation bringing tears to her eyes.

“-I can pull out-” offered Aemond.

“N-No just give me a moment” replied Valaena softly as she took the rest of his cock.

Aemond groaned loudly when Valaena was fully seated in his lap, his hands grasping his wife’s hips tightly as she began to move.

Valaena wrapped her arms around his shoulders for support as Aemond began to gently meet her thrusts.

Aemond moved one of his hands to gently caress one of her milk swollen breasts.

“Valzȳrys” breathed Valaena (Husband).

Aemond bent down to lick her nipples, going back and forth between her wonderful, enlarged breasts.

“Oh” muttered Valaena, as pearly white liquid began to leak from her.

Aemond ran his tongue over the milk that had dripped from his wife’s rosy nipples and delighted in the sweetened taste.

“Hmmm” moaned Aemond as he continued to lick and suckle at her breasts, gorging himself on her milk, as his wife gently rode his cock.

His tongue swirling around her stiffened peaks, his teeth scraping against her skin, the sounds of him swallowing.

It felt so good, it felt-

“-A-Aemond” gasped Valaena.

“What is it my love”.

“Don’t stop-please, oh gods-don’t stop” exclaimed Valaena as she arched her back, her cunny clenching around Aemond’s cock as she unexpectedly climaxed.

“Did you just-peak?” asked Aemond smirking as he released her nipple with a soft pop.

“Yes, it has been some weeks since we've properly laid together-” replied Valaena, her cheeks tinged pink.

“Ñuha jorrāelagon, ñuha dāria-” whispered Aemond as he seized her lips in a kiss, the taste of milk upon his tongue (My love, my Queen).

The water began splashing over the edges of the tub as the force of Aemond’s thrusts increased.

Aemond loved fucking Valaena. She was so perfect. He loved her mother’s body and would never tire of feeling her wet heat wrapped around him.

Valaena rolled her hips in time with Aemond’s thrusts. Her loud moans echoed around their bathing chambers.

“A-Aemond. Yes. Yes. H-Husband” whined Valaena as Aemond shifted slightly and began thrusting deeper inside her.

“I want to stuff my cock deep inside your cunny and never leave” moaned Aemond.

“Aemond. P-Please” cried Valaena as she felt Aemond’s fingers against her pearl.

“Take it. Take all of me” groaned Aemond, his face pressed between her breasts.

“A-Aemond. Oh god. Please” moaned Valaena, as she writhed against him.

“I know your almost there. Let it happen. Come for me again-” whispered Aemond, his tongue moving across her nipple as he rubbed her pearl.

Valaena arched her back and let out a scream as her pleasure erupted as Aemond began fucking her a little harder.

He was almost there just a little more-

Aemond held Valaena tight to him as his cock throbbed, spilling rope after rope of his seed.

“My love. My sweet” exclaimed Aemond as Valaena sagged against him.

Valaena took the cup of moon tea from Lirri, the bitter scent already making her grimace before it even touched her lips.

With one swift motion, she drank it all in one go, wincing at the foul taste as it burned down her throat. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her expression sour.

"You ok, my lady?" Lirri asked, her slight accent tinging the words with concern.

Valaena nodded, offering a weak smile. "I’m fine. It just tastes foul. Gods, I hate drinking that stuff."

Lirri, standing beside her, gave a shrug. "Then don’t drink it."

Valaena chuckled softly, shaking her head. "As much as I enjoy carrying my husband’s children, I think I’d like to wait a little while longer before I have another." She let out a breath, looking down at the empty cup.

Lirri raised a brow, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Your husband, he is virile man, he have you many times-"

Valaena laughed, louder this time, her amusement clear. "Yes, I guess you could say that." She smiled fondly, thinking of Aemond.

Lirri nodded with satisfaction, continuing with a grin. “My lord, he is like great stallion. Always ready to mount world.”

Still giggling, Valaena shook her head. “That’s one way to put it.”

Lirri’s expression turned more serious, though her tone remained light. “My lord he is good lover, yes? It make you smile”

Valaena’s cheeks warmed, and she bit her lip as she thought of Aemond. “He’s-quite skilled,” she admitted with a soft giggle, her tone laced with affection. “But don’t tell him I said that. It’ll go straight to his head.”

Lirri laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “I think he already know, my lady.”

Valaena leaned back, letting the laughter fade as she gazed out the window at the sunny garden. “Yes,” she said softly. “He probably does.”

Lirri’s eyes flickered with admiration. "Many girls think he very beautiful. They say his hair is like the moon."

Valaena nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. "Don’t the Dothraki believe the moon is a goddess?"

"Yes," Lirri confirmed, her tone reverent. "She is wife to sun. Together they watch over all life."

Valaena looked at her, curious. "Do you miss the Dothraki?”

Lirri hesitated, her gaze turning distant. "Sometimes, but then I remember the Khal and his cruelty." Her expression hardened. "He no deserve to ride in night lands. I thank you and my lord for saving me."

Valaena’s eyes softened, guilt stirring within her. "I wish we could have saved your children."

Lirri’s hand reached for Valaena’s, squeezing it gently. Her smile was kind, though tinged with sorrow. "I will see them again when great stallion come for me. And together we will ride in starry Khalasar."

“What about Arro?” she asked, her voice lighter, hoping to bring a smile back to Lirri’s face.

Lirri’s expression warmed, a hint of affection flickering in her eyes. “Arro is kind man,” she said quietly. “He lost wife in a village raid”

Valaena nodded, recalling the memory vividly. “I remember that day. Aemond had found him lying amongst the ruins, barely clinging to life.”

Lirri’s voice was soft but steady as she said, “I’m glad my lord save him-he means great deal to me”

Valaena smiled, touched by Lirri’s strength and resilience. She felt the weight of their upcoming journey pressing on her mind. "Me and Aemond will soon return to Westeros."

"Your homeland," Lirri said, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"Yes," Valaena confirmed. "If you do not wish to come with us, then I’ll make sure you have enough money to live on."

Lirri smiled, her eyes softening. "I have no wish to stay alone. I love your children like they are mine. I want to come home with you."

Valaena’s heart warmed at her words. "As long as you’re happy."

"I am very happy, my lady," Lirri said with a firm nod.

As they shared a quiet moment, both women noticed a young maid, Mira, walk past carrying a tray of food.

Lirri leaned in closer to Valaena, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Watch that girl. She look at my lord in way she should not."

Valaena’s brow arched slightly, her gaze following the maid’s retreating figure. "I trust Aemond."

Lirri nodded, her expression stern. "Yes, your husband is good man. He does not look for others. But Mira, she want my lord to bed her."

Valaena scoffed lightly, the very idea absurd. "Aemond would never."

Lirri’s eyes darkened with certainty. "But she will try. She like many women who try to take husband for own self."

A flicker of irritation crossed Valaena’s face, but her confidence remained steady. "She won’t get what she wants from Aemond."

Lirri smiled, a hint of danger in her tone. "She bad girl. I shall cut her throat for insult to you and my lord."

Valaena chuckled, shaking her head. "That’s very nice of you to offer, but I shall deal with her myself."

Lirri grinned wickedly. "Then I clean blood."

"I’m not going to kill her," Valaena replied, her amusement growing.

Lirri's eyes twinkled as she teased, "You should feed her to the big grumpy dragon."

Valaena laughed, shaking her head. "Vhagar prefers much larger meals."

Both women shared a laugh, their bond strengthened by shared loyalty, as they returned to watching over the peaceful grounds of the manse.

In the stillness of the night, Valaena was jolted awake by the sound of faint screeching.

Her heart leapt into her throat, and she quickly rose from the bed, her bare feet padding across the cool floor as she rushed toward Daenys' cot.

She peered inside and saw her daughter still fast asleep, completely undisturbed by the commotion.

But something else caught her eye—the remnants of broken eggshell at the foot of the cot.

Her breath caught as her gaze shifted to a small, crimson creature nestled protectively against Daenys.

A dragon hatchling. Its tiny body shimmered like dark red rubies, and its wings, still delicate, were curled around the sleeping baby.

The hatchling’s curious eyes were already fixed on Valaena, watching her with sharp intelligence.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as she reached her hand forward slowly. The hatchling tilted its head sniffing, before nuzzling against her palm.

A smile spread across her face as the tiny creature accepted her touch before returning to its protective stance, curling around Daenys with an instinctive sense of guardianship.

Valaena straightened up, excitement pulsing through her as she hurried back to the bed.

She shook Aemond gently, but he awoke with a start, his hand reaching for his sword.

She quickly shushed him, her voice a soft whisper. "Come look."

Still groggy, Aemond allowed her to lead him to Daenys' cot, where he saw the crimson hatchling curled beside their daughter.

A wide smile spread across his face, eyes filled with pride and wonder. "Her egg hatched," Aemond whispered in awe. "She has her dragon."

Valaena could see the significance of the moment in his expression. She knew how deeply this mattered to him—that their children would be seen as true Targaryen’s, bonded with dragons as they should be.

His own memories of being mocked for not having a dragon at a young age still lingered. But their children would never know that pain.

They would never stand on the ground, watching others take flight, yearning for the skies.

Aemond wrapped his arms around Valaena, pulling her close. She rested her head on his shoulder, her heart swelling with affection as they watched the tiny dragon fall asleep beside Daenys, who had unconsciously clutched the hatchling's tail in her little hand.

In that quiet moment, their world seemed at peace. The crimson dragon, small but fierce, was a promise of their family's legacy.

Their daughter, already tied to a creature of fire and blood, would carry the strength of her ancestors.

And together, they would soar.

TBC

[midnightfantasiez]

Pleasure Me | Lee Sangyeon

SUMMARY: ever since your boyfriend was featured in the latest issue of Men's Health, you have had a serious "problem" that you were sure that nobody was to ever find out about, that is, until you were caught red-handed by your very own boyfriend, Sangyeon.

PAIRING: model bf! Sangyeon x f!reader

GENRE: smut (18+ MDNI!!)

WARNINGS: kissing, making out, masturbation (f!reader), fingering (f!reader receiving), cum tasting (f!reader), oral (f!reader receiving), face riding

WORD COUNT: 1,564

A/N: behold my debut fic on my nsfw blog! 🤓 let's just say i've been super duper horny lately and i may or may not be on a writing spree for sexy sangyeon (pls just accept it lmao) shoutout to my loveliest @juyeonszn for reading it through i love you my bubba 😘❤️

It has been a week since your boyfriend’s nude shots were published in the media and magazines. 

Your boyfriend, Sangyeon, has been working in the model industry for over five years, but only a month ago, he received an offer from one of Korea’s top fitness magazines, Men’s Health, for a photo shoot and an interview. At first, you didn’t think much of it since you’ve always known how passionate Sangyeon has been about his health and working out.

Never in a million years would you have thought that he would have to strip and be featured on the cover of the magazine's fall issue.

Sangyeon knew from the beginning how awkward the entire situation would be, and as your boyfriend, he had to consult you first and foremost to see if both of you were on the same page. As much as it somewhat bugged you at first, you reluctantly told him that it was part of his job and he should treat it as an opportunity instead. 

It took some time to convince your boyfriend since he placed you first in everything that he did, but eventually, he took on the offer and was finally featured in the recent issue. 

Which was when your so-called “problem” began. 

You were too shy to admit nor did you want your boyfriend to ever find out about it. If he did, you would definitely throw yourself off a cliff, saying goodbye to this cruel world you live in. 

You began masturbating every two days, if not almost every night. You would hide in your bedroom, especially when Sangyeon wasn’t  back home from his job, and you would pleasure yourself by touching your body. You would slowly massage your breasts, and the other hand would slide down into your undies to rub your wet core. Sometimes, you would even insert one or two fingers into your entrance, and you’d envision Sangyeon pleasuring you instead. 

You knew this whole thing felt so wrong, yet you could never bring yourself to tell your boyfriend about this “problem”. Hence, you decided to keep this little dirty secret to yourself.

It was a late Friday night. Sangyeon had texted you in the morning that he would be coming home late tonight as he had to meet up with some of the staff for his next photo shoot to discuss plans for the upcoming feature magazine. He texted you his usual “goodnight message”, and you did the same. 

Mentally, you were doing somersaults in your brain because you had been feeling rather horny today, especially when you accidentally came across a rather sexy novel at your favourite bookstore when you had to run some errands for your company this afternoon. It was just like the idiom you learned in middle school, of how curiosity can kill the cat. And that was exactly what happened tonight. 

Once you get home from work in the evening hours, you take a quick shower and have a rather simple dinner that you just easily heat in the microwave before getting yourself all cozy in your bed to read the sexy novella that you have just purchased this afternoon. To set up the mood, you even turned on your fairy lights and lit some aromatic scented candles before lying comfortably to read. 

Just as you expected, the book's contents were rather spicy, and the next thing you knew, you found yourself touching your body again. Slowly, your hands slide back into your underwear, and you rub your dripping wet core. This time, you closed your eyes and tried your best to place yourself into the story's main character, attempting to envision the hot hunky male character fingering you.

But instead, that male lead eventually shifted into the vision of your boyfriend. And you eventually find yourself moaning his name. 

“Oh my god… S-sangyeon… It feels so good…” 

You wanted more, and god you didn’t want him to stop. 

“M-more… more… aaahh—” 

“Baby, what are you doing?” 

That deep voice immediately had you shooting up from your bed, and you immediately turned your head in the direction of the voice. 

Oh, hell no. 

Why is he back? He was not supposed to be home at least till after 12am! 

Not wanting to see or hear more from him, you immediately dived into your bedsheets, muffling a “goodnight, I’m asleep!”, hoping to turn him away. You swear you felt your face burning up so quickly, and your heartbeat was getting way out of control. 

It didn’t take long for him to pull back the bedsheets to reveal him staring at your face. 

“No no, please go away, Sangyeon! I’m about to sleep!” You protested, hoping he would leave you alone and pretend nothing had happened. 

Knowing your boyfriend, though, he is not the type to let things off, especially when it intrigues him. 

“I had no idea you sounded so sexy moaning my name aloud like that.” You already could hear his smirking through his voice, and you slowly opened one of your eyes to look at him. Sure enough, he was turned on and placed his hands on your thighs, gently rubbing them while inching his face closer to you.

“Hey, you know you could’ve just told me you wanted me.” He was now pecking you all over your face. 

“B-but… aren’t you ashamed.. of this habit of mine?” You asked weakly, and honestly, expecting a negative answer from him. 

But he reassures you instead. “Oh baby, if you were not turned on by that cover magazine that I did, then I’m afraid that what I’ve shown isn’t enough to pleasure you.” 

This time, he gently lifts and positions you so that you are seated on the bed, facing the full-length mirror you have in your bedroom. He then slowly climbs into bed and sits behind you, his hands roaming your body. Gently, he leans down to your ears and gives you a whisper. 

“I want you to look at yourself in the mirror. And whatever happens, don’t stop looking.” 

Before you could even ask what was happening, one of his hands immediately travelled down to your underwear and began rubbing your core. Dear God, this time it is happening in real-time, it is your boyfriend’s actual hands that were pleasuring your entrance, one that you have fantasised about for long enough.

“Aww, you’re already so wet for me. Aren’t you a dirty little one?” He teased, before sliding his hands into your underwear to rub while putting some slight pressure on your entrance. Immediately, the moans he had longed to hear filled the entire room, practically music to his ears.

He then used his other free hand to grab hold of your chin to turn your head back towards him as he crashes his lips onto yours, turning the kiss into a rather steamy and messy one. You both would break off in between to grasp for some air, then reconnect your lips again, turning this into a repeated cycle. 

“God—Sangyeon—please—”

“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you exactly want.”

“Your fingers… inside me… now…” 

That was all he needed to hear before pushing two fingers into you, earning a sweet and pleasurable moan from you. He almost immediately picked up his pace, thrusting in and out rather quickly, which made you beg for more. 

“Faster.. Faster!” 

It took almost less than a minute before you came all over his fingers, and he took them out and placed them into your mouth, wanting you to savour your cum. As your breathing stabilised, he immediately commanded that you turn around and position yourself against the headrest of your bed. You were stunned, to say the least, so he had to physically help you again by placing both your hands on the headrest while he got himself comfortably under you, directly under your clit. 

“Since you wanted me to pleasure you so badly, I’ll be nice and offer you once more.” 

Without another word, his hands resting on both sides of your hips immediately dragged you down, and he began kissing and sucking your core rather hungrily. If you thought your moans were loud and messy enough during the first phase, you were so wrong. This felt so much better, and you wished nothing more but to stay like this for a while. 

Sangyeon took his time exploring every crook and cranny of your core, ensuring he was taking in all of the sweetness while his top priority was to pleasure you well. Oh, you would definitely rate both his glorious hands and tongue a grade A+ for sure. 

Your continuous moans and whimpers turned him on even more, and he began sucking a little harder while picking up his pace again. He knew you were about to reach your high and couldn’t wait for it to come.

“Oh my god, more! Sangyeon! Don’t stop!” 

Eventually, you also find yourself rocking your hips onto his face, both now desperately trying to make your cum come faster as possible. 

“I-I’m cumming!” 

A few seconds later, you released your sweet love juice all over Sangyeon while trying to calm yourself down. It took a while for him to savour all of it before he eventually got himself up and positioned you so that you were now straddling his lap. 

“I guess you are now ready for the next round.” 

A/N: if you thought the self-insertion was strong then yes it is (i practically wrote this for me 🤡)

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet (join my perm taglist here!)

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | gen | 1.2k | tags: feelings realization (not his own), Kas!Eddie (flashback), smoking weed together, boys in love | @steddielovemonth prompt: Love is what makes you brave | AO3)

Eddie never claimed to be smart. It was not for nothing that it took him three tries and a very lenient high school administration - thanks to Hawkins' very own apocalypse - to graduate from high school.

It's not that he's dumb. It's more that he has what his uncle calls a scatterbrain. It's hard for him to focus on anything outside of the things he's really passionate about, like DnD or metal or fantasy. So it's not really surprising that he realizes that Steve is in love with him weeks after he's fallen for the boy himself.

And oh boy, did he fall for Steve Harrington. Hook, line and sinker.

It's new and exciting and scary. It takes up all the space in his head, and just as he read Lord of the Rings so many times that he can recite Aragorn's battle speech at the Black Gate, Eddie now spends all his time and energy learning everything there is to know about Steve Harrington.

He begins to pay attention to what people say about Steve and even more to what's said between the lines. He learns a lot by finally listening to all the times Dustin talks about Steve, which is often, singing his praises in his own, unique Dustin way.

Eddie focuses on what he can learn about Steve from the stories the others tell about a time when Eddie wasn't part of this weird little group of misfits and heroes, and collects all the clues like he's Sherlock fucking Holmes and Steve is his Moriarty.

Like how Robin and Steve have all these jokes from their Scoops days, even though they only really became friends later, during their run-in with the Russians. Yet Steve was willing to bait them into beating him instead of Robin, sacrificing himself so she could be spared before they ever established their platonic soul mateship.

It fits with the story Jonathan told him once, when they were smoking pot with Argyle, about Steve running back into a house with an honest-to-God monster in it to help Nancy and him fight it. And that was after Steve had come to Jonathan to apologize for their fight, even though he had reason to suspect that his girlfriend was cheating on him with Jonathan.

It's like puzzle pieces clicking together in Eddie's head.

At first, they don't fit with the things Steve tells him while they're out by the pool, sharing a joint and just talking. Steve goes on about all the times he was a coward, how he never stood up to his father or the bullies at school, even when he thought they were going too far.

But the things he says start to make sense to Eddie when Steve starts talking about how he only ditched Tommy and his other asshole friends because of Nancy. Because she made him realize how shitty he had become for fear of falling out of line and losing his status and his so-called friends.

Steve would never say he was brave.

But Eddie knows the truth.

Eddie knows that Steve is brave for the people he loves.

Love makes Steve brave.

And Steve loves fast and hard.

Once those two things become a certainty in Eddie's mind, other things fall into place.

Vecna sent him back to his friends as a spy, but they saw right through him, so he attacked them. He was faster and stronger now, thanks to whatever spell he was under, and he was vicious. They weren't his friends, they were the enemy. If he didn't kill them, they would kill him.

It makes him remember something he mostly tries to forget because it still hurts. It still fills him with shame and guilt. But now he thinks back to those weeks when he was under Vecna's control, a puppet dancing to his master's will.

Vecna had saved Eddie's body from dying when Dustin and the others thought he was already dead, but it came at a price.

Steve, the self-sacrificing idiot, managed to trap himself and Eddie in a room away from the others, his trusty nail bat at the ready. They faced each other, both ready to attack, to fight until one or both were dead.

And then Steve dropped the goddamn bat.

"I'm not going to fight you, Eddie. This isn't you. This isn't the guy who gave the outcasts and the nerds and the geeks a safe haven in the middle of the hell that is high school for them. This isn't the guy who decided to fight for a town that abandoned him and hunted him because he was different."

Steve took a step closer, so close that Eddie could see the flecks of green and gold in his hazel eyes.

"This isn't the guy who gave his life to save Dustin and buy us more time."

Warm hands closed around his own, clenched into fists and ready to strike, and cradled them gently.

"You saved us, Eddie. Because you are good. Because no matter how cruel the world was to you, you never stopped being kind." Another step towards the monster with his friend's face, but Steve never faltered, never hesitated.

"Please come back to us. Dustin needs you. Mike and Lucas need you."

Steve's arms wrapped around him, pulling him into their warm embrace, holding him tight as Steve said directly into his ear, "We need you, Eddie."

It hit Eddie right then and there, lying on the grass in Steve's yard with the pungent smell of the finished joint still in the air and the warmth of Steve's body seeping into his own where they touched from head to toe.

He never thought about it before because it couldn't have been. Steve had only known him a few days before the bats got him. And besides, he had been mooning over Nancy at the time, hadn't he?

But Steve risked his own life to get Eddie back. He could have killed Eddie, probably should have. Instead, Steve bravely stood his ground and reminded Eddie of his own humanity. Of all the love in his life and in his heart.

Steve falls hard and fast.

Love makes Steve brave.

Steve had only known Eddie, really known him outside of high school gossip, for a few days, but he risked his life to save Eddie.

Clumsy with the lingering effects of the weed in his body, Eddie turns his head to look at Steve, who's still staring up at the starry night sky. He takes in his profile, the sharp jaw line, the strong nose, the full lower lip. Steve is beautiful. He's good and kind and bitchy and secretly a giant dork. And he...

"You love me."

Eddie doesn't mean to just blurt it out, a thought that only formed a few minutes ago, but he's never been known for his brain to mouth filter and holy shit, Steve Harrington loves him.

Startled, Steve tears his eyes away from the stars to look at Eddie instead, his lovely hazel eyes wide as they search and hold Eddie's.

"I know," he finally says, leaning in even closer as if they were sharing a secret. "What gave it away?"

Instead of answering right away, Eddie bridges the infinitesimal gap between them and kisses Steve.

"I make you brave." At Steve's questioning look, Eddie adds, "Don't worry, you make me brave, too."

Before Steve can ask any more questions that Eddie's weed-addled brain couldn't answer anyway, he captures Steve's lips in another kiss before bravely rolling on top of him and showing him just how much Eddie loves him, too.

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐮𝐡𝐧 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTP/ISFP

Gryffindor

Chaotic Good

Scorpio Sun, Aries Moon, Aquarius Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You know when you meet someone, and you don't have to force your personality to fit into some kind of shape?

・That's what happened with you and Ruhn

・Ever since you met, there was a spark. You were both curious about each other.

・You were drawn into the way he looked. Not many fae tattooed themselves from nearly head to toe, or had so many piercings

・It made your heart beat faster and faster

・You knew you were attracted to him

・And he made you laugh within minutes

・But you didn't want to give him the satisfaction

・So, the one thing that has stayed throughout your relationship is the goddamn bickering. Which really is just another form of banter.

・This has caused a lot of angst between the two of you.

・But you both knew it was pure play. Flirting. Humour. Banter.

・Everything changed when you had a panic attack in front of him. You were so embarrassed. But the way he held you, cupping your face, moving your hair behind your ears, wiping away the tears.

・His purple eyes bore into your own and you felt instantly calmer.

・From that day on you thanked The Maker. Because staring into his eyes - something clicked. Like a piece was perfectly placed; one you never knew you were missing.

・Making you blush is one of his favourite hobbies. Seeing you duck your head, cover your face or roll your eyes makes his day.

・Very protective; is able to stop himself from taking a swing at the asshole. He's more of a rip him to shreds verbally and then wrap an arm around your shoulder and walk away.

・But don't think he won't get physical over you. Because Ruhn definitely will.

・Would rather take your last name when you get married - his holds too many bad memories

・He knows his smirk makes you weak in the knees but when you brush over his bare skin, he nearly gets on his own knees to worship you

・Would walk to the ends of the earth to find you. There's nothing Ruhn would not do for you. Kill, maim, avenge, even die for you.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Tough on the Outside, Soft on the Inside (Ruhn) x The Top (You)

Overly arrogant, flirty (Ruhn) x Pretends To Be Unfazed, But Is Dying On The Inside (You)

“Shut Up” x “Make Me”

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Intertwined Destinies

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Fire In The Water by Feist

Blood Moon by John Lunn & Eivor

The Lure by The Weeknd

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞

・Every time with him is hot and heavy; it's hard to breathe when you're both in the mood. It's as if the world doesn't exist and all you can do is be in one another's arms

・You're both as dominant as each other, but when you tease him, gods help you. He'll have you bent over any flat surface, taking you from behind.

・Definitely an ass slapper.

・Growls in your ear both in the bedroom and in public

・Something turns primal in him whenever he's with you. Sometimes it feels like he's a hairs breath away from completely ravishing you

・Ruhn is definitely one to keep a naughty polaroid of you

・At times you think you're both insatiable; no matter how many times either of you cum, nothing is good enough.

・As Mates it's easy to explain. Your souls were made for one another, and so is your biology. Therefore, you both have high fucking sex drives.

・You're obsessed with Ruhn's hands and he knows it. Large, veiny and usually with a few rings. He rests his hand on your thigh, and will slowly move it closer and closer to your core - no matter who is around

・His cock is 8 inches when hard, veined, 3cm in girth. Circumcised; when he's horny the tip is a dark weepy red and when after orgasm it's slightly darker.

・As much as he can be serious and passionate, Ruhn also loves when you two can be silly while having sex. Talking about your day, or laughing when you two almost fall off the bed.

・The first time you had sex, Ruhn didn't last as long as he usually does. He was a whiny, whimpering mess, head in the crook of your neck, pumping in and out of you relentlessly.

・It was like fucking for the first time.

・Nothing compared to being with the person you were supposed to be with.

・Ruhn couldn't stop kissing you, and not just your lips. His favourite part was behind your ear. Trailing hot breathy kisses down to your neck.

・He apologised, but it didn't mean he was done. It just meant there was more natural lube for you.

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Oberyn Martell w/ Septa reader — ❂ the sun shines above the heavens. ❂

Yandere Oberyn felt as if those from above were playing some cruel trick. He has never had inclinations to give up the more risqué lifestyle. Each jeering comment sent his way was merely an arrow made of feather. Now it feels as if his reputation is his downfall instead of a source of pride.

He is the debauchery you must protect yourself against. An evil entity seeking out purity, wishing to corrupt it. A flame that so eagerly wishes to draw an ethereal moth.

He wishes to give up all of that just to feel your cool skin against his under the heat of a passionate night.

Yandere Oberyn battles himself every night. He questions how far he will go for someone so unattainable. He has to give up everything for you. He is willing, but is it possible? He feels far too damaged to be the husband of someone such as yourself.

It's laughable. The invincible, suave Oberyn Martell falls face first the moment he sees the soul that intertwines with his own.

Yandere Oberyn seeks the aid of his wise brother. To say Doran was shocked would be an understatement. Doran was well convinced that you were simply another fiery fling that he wanted to ignite. Perhaps that was a bit foolish on Doran's part. Oberyn never plays when it comes to those he truly loves. Oberyn truly loves you.

"I have fallen in love, brother, with a being closer to the gods than I may ever come. I am competing against the divine, and I don't know how well I am doing."

The yearning in his serpentine eyes is akin to a dying man's need for water in the harsh deserts.

"I have seen you love. This is more than that. This is some reckless devotion I ask you to not consume yourself in. It's dangerous. Everyone throughout Westeros loves this Septa. If you make a move towards them, you may end up with a sword in your back. Dorne could be put in danger."

As always, Doran chose the people over his brother's whims.

"I will slaughter all those who come between me and my affection. Not a foot will be laid on Dorne's territory out of anger towards me. Do not test me, dear brother. Even a well-trained animal may turn on those it considers kin if pushed too far."

Doran had no need to further argue his point. Oberyn would follow his heart and his cock before listening to reason. However, his dear brother has always been able to keep his word.

"You have my support. I will invite this dear Septa of yours to Sunspear as an act of good faith."

Hopefully, Oberyn is able to keep his passions to himself while in public.

Yandere Oberyn consistently—constantly extends his hand to you as a show of his new-found faith. You aren't as gullible as he would like. You have interacted with many men like him before. Except he is far superior to any of the other blubbering fools who have dared try to capture your affections.

He shows you not just his combat prowess but his willingness to learn from you. Hours he sits listening to you preach, imagining you in a far different situation, with far less on.

He rids himself of his other torrid affairs and chooses to focus on you. You see him changing, and a part of that is real. The other part is simply him playing pretend so he is able to stay in your good graces.

He isn't quite sure where the real beings and the fake ends.

Yandere Oberyn naturally eliminates those pesky rivals of his. They dare think they have a chance with you? Oh, it's adorably infuriating.

They disappear left and right. You assume it is some of the fanatics that are overly dedicated to you, going as far as to idolize you instead of the Seven. It disturbs you. However, you are kept safe far more than in danger.

It only ignites that jealously in Oberyn more. He doesn't want to be caught, but he also wants you to know it's him. It's the vouyer in him.

He leaves you little gifts on the bodies of those he kills for you. When he sees you with one of them, he is ecstatic. Only to learn that you rid yourself of them to not be tainted by any negative energy.

Oh, there will be no worry about that in the future. You will be tainted by many things more than just his energy.

Yandere Oberyn uses his natural charisma to flirt with you quite often. He does so in a subtle manner, but being subtle when it comes to his love is quite a difficult thing to do. It's just little things, like those gifts he leaves at the bodies.

He also likes asking you questions where the answer always ties back to your relationship.

"How does one win the heart of someone much purer and kinder than me?"

"Does thy interests align with mine?"

"Will it rain soon, or will the desert stay dry? I may not be a scholar of those things, but I do have quite the experience in making things wet."

Yandere Oberyn waits to strike like a serpent. His patience wanes each day, but he simply sees it as a test. The nights he will spend with you, coveting you, will be his greatest achievement.

He is almost able to see it.

Your body devoid of that holy garb. Your eyes full of lust for only him. Your presence so inviting to him. Your mind obedient to anything he commands.

Then in the morning you will be that lovely, pure Septa again.

No one will be the wiser.

[metalomagnetic]

Hii how would you describe Sirius's and V's relationship in 'It runs in the blood?' Is it based mostly on manipulations? And how could V ever love Sirius? 

I started reading your fic and so far I really enjoy your writing and your ways of characterization especially regarding the Black family and their dynamics. What I'm interested in however is why did you decide to pair the two together and why would someone like V ever became interested in someone like Sirius? No criticism just curious about your thoughts.

Even if there was manipulation involved in the relationship, that doesn't mean the feelings aren't genuine.

I decided to pair them together because I was curious how they'd work, in what way, what circumstances. I like to challenge my writing with rare pairs.

Why would someone like V become interested in Sirius? Well, Sirius is incredibly charismatic, he's handsome, he's intelligent, he comes from a powerful family with an ancient name, he's ruthless but he also has this shred of goodness in him that interests Voldemort, yet Sirius' morals are so lax that he wouldn't care too much about Voldemort's horrible crimes. Sirius is loyal to the bone, willing to fight for those he loves, everything else can go to hell. He's passionate, brave, filled with energy, he has a great sense of humour, he's not bigoted enough to look down on Voldemort for not being a pureblood, yet he is bigoted enough to think muggles are inferior to wizards, so he and Voldemort together can complain about how crazy purebloods can be, while also bitch about how 'backwards' the muggles are. And, of course, he has the unique astral magic that no one else in the world has, and he's willing to confide in Voldemort about it. Also, did I mention how incredibly handsome he is? Voldemort is a dark lord, but man isn't blind. When Sirius walks by, anyone with eyes notices him haha.

At the beginning of the story, Voldemort finds some type of kinship with him, in the way that they both rejected their family, yet they both crave family, even if they don't admit it. Of course, Voldemort is an extreme version of rejecting family for rejecting him (he killed daddy and sent uncle to prison), but he recognises the struggle in Sirius, who wants his family to love him, who sometimes deeply dislikes his family, but he'll forever be tied to them, bonds that can't be broken. For all of Voldemort's rants that he became his own man, we can see that Voldemort is deeply obsessed with is own heritage- with Slytherin side (a source of pride) and with the muggle side (a source of constant self-loathing).

Voldemort was born in poverty, hated and pushed aside from birth, he had to work for everything; Sirius is the opposite of this, and yet they are both defining themselves by their blood, and both are obsessed with names, names that haunt them, put burden on their shoulders. Voldemort will never get rid of 'Riddle' no matter how he pretends he had, no matter how he terrifies people into not saying it, and Sirius will never get rid of Black, no matter if he left home and he's trying so hard to 'be different'.

Also, the most scary villain from all the Harry Potter books was Sirius, for me. Sirius in POA (before we learn he's innocent) managed to scare me more than Voldemort did in all the books lol. So I figured, why not pair them up, see where this goes.

[suffarustuffaru]

sincerely emilia (drabble for Day 2 - Injury / Role Swap / “What do I look like right now?” - rezero s3c1 fanweek!!)

Your name is Emilia, just Emilia, and you’re super duper good at everything you set your mind to! 

It was pretty rough learning how to die with grace, but it’s given you so many wonderful opportunities to learn other things as well! 

See, it only took approximately about a dozen or so loops to figure out how to make a suitable enough cake—you really, really don’t bother counting anymore, counting is such a downer unless it’s for something more fun—but, of course, you’re Emilia, and you can’t just half-ass any of the things you do! Ah, but oh my—you really, really shouldn’t be cursing or anything even in your internal dialogue, so you suppose this may call for another loop! Besides, you accidentally put too much frosting in one corner of the cake when you were writing the big important message on the face of it, so you must correct that as well. 

You duck into the nearest bathroom and bite down on your tongue. It’s good practice, given that’s usually one of the deaths you struggle a little bit with, and you like to practice. You like becoming so good at things that no one can think of you as stupid, silly Emilia anymore. You like being so good that nothing can ever touch you again. 

That you never hurt anyone again.

Anyway, this world has given you so many fun opportunities ever since that day in the capitol! Felt may have stolen your insignia at the time, and Elsa was quite an opponent, but you’ve learned all sorts of valuable things ever since! Of course, after your dozen or so loops spent learning to make a cake, you spent some more learning to make the perfect cake. It was only a tiny bit of looping—maybe about another dozen or more? Besides, you already had the chance to catalog even more important information:

Natsuki Subaru is from beyond the Great Waterfall. Natsuki Subaru, presumably, appeared in the middle of that capitol the same day your insignia was stolen. Natsuki Subaru is your knight because you let him mold himself into something stronger. You let him try, like how you always try and try and try. Because Natsuki Subaru is a stupid, stupid boy who lives life oh-so-recklessly, and yet you can’t help but admire his passion. His heart. You wanted to squeeze it, just a little, that one time you found him dead in an alleyway with his murderers panicking because they hadn’t expected to kill him. They weren’t even trying. And, of course, the knights weren’t trying to kill him. Of course not! And, of course, of course, of course, Natsuki Subaru had to follow you everywhere you went like a dumb puppy wagging its tail, but he can’t come back to life like you can. You’re dead weight. He’s even deader weight. But you can come back. After all the crying and vomiting and screaming you did, after all the times you got beat down and never came back up again, after all the times you let everyone around you die, after all the times you saw your own maids and your own father do horrible things you never would have approved of, after all the times you were targeted and stupid, stupid Subaru got caught in the crossfire, after all the times you saw Geuse—Petelgeuse—you figured it out: you can please everyone all at once and as much as possible so long as you used the power you were forced into. This is the one thing you can control: you make yourself beautiful, force your personality into a better place the same way you can force a broken shoulder back into its socket. The same way you can hear your own voice whisper back to you in a void, I love him, I love him, save him, I love him, save, save, save. The same way you can make sure Natsuki Subaru is safe.

And happy.

You can make sure everyone around you all at once is safe and happy. There were—there were a few errors. But you’re good at pushing forward. You even got over your personal hurdle of disliking lying and broken promises. This is because you’re not broken bird Emilia anymore. In fact, your power proves everyone wrong! How could you not be great after everything? You have it down to even the smallest details— 

“Subaru!” you exclaim as you burst into his room. He leaves the door unlocked; this is out of habit, even if he doesn’t remember her, due to all the times a certain maid had been at her bedside before she—before she—haha—

Subaru, of course, startles awake. He’s a little jumpy, though he can be quite the deep sleeper when he’s really exhausted, but he always has this habit of relaxing the moment he sees you! This is related to how the moon is beautiful, isn’t it is a phrase that really means I love you, along with other such foolish things like how Emilia-tan, is Emilia-chan is some childish form of endearment, and how take care are words that have either made Subaru cry tears of joy or tears of complete and utter despair depending on the loop, and how Natsuki Subaru was a lonely little shut-in NEET who imprinted on you like a duckling would with its mother. He’s frightened at first once he’s fully awake now, practically jumping out of bed and looking around like he’s expecting an attack—like that one loop where he died in his sleep, or that other loop where a certain maid died in her sleep instead and he got caught in the crossfire again, like he always does—but then his eyes land on you. His face brightens, and then brightens even further when you say—

“Happy birthday!” You proudly hold out the cake you’ve made for him. It’s butterscotch, exactly as he said he was craving since the first loop of this current period, and you made sure to write out the words Happy birthday in perfect characters onto the cake as well. Pretty poignant, you think, that his birthday is just a few weeks before the anniversary of that day in the capitol. You look up from the eighteen birthday candles scattered amidst the frosting. 

“It’s a new you,” you add with a cheerful smile. “I’m reaaally glad that you’re here, Subaru, and I’m honored to have another year with you as my friend—” You wink at him. A little teasing, but just innocent enough to only be slightly flirtatious. Subaru runs away in a panic if there’s too much. “—and my knight.”

Subaru squeaks in embarrassment at that. You allow yourself a measured giggle at that, hidden behind a polite hand. Subaru’s eyes roam all over you and the cake you’re holding out for him with your other hand; like this, all the muscles you’ve been working on are showing, all pure heroine grace just the way he likes, and your laugh is also pure grace. Just the way he likes. 

Pure, pure, pure. 

You make sure to alter the formula a little with others, though. A person like Anastasia likes being caught off guard by pure, simple sincerity, and you like seeing her narrow her eyes at you every time you already knew what she was going to say. Otto likes to take other people under his wing, as much as he pretends he doesn’t want to, so you indulgently allow him to advise you on everything and anything, and you laugh when he doesn’t know how you’re predicting every possible move he makes in shatranj. Garfiel’s desire for strength is admirable, and your sparring sessions with him have been some of your favorite loops. The moment he declared that he would have to train to become as strong as you tasted like pure victory. Ram’s singing lessons too, have been your other favorites as well, with the curtness of her voice turning soft when she called you a girl with good timing, and even Julius’s lips kissing your knuckle felt nice in the epicenter of the storm that was all those loops where you kept trying and trying to stop Subaru from walking straight into his death. All of this—it’s another way to improvement. It’s another way to experience every good thing you’ve ever had over and over and over again. 

Pure intimacy.

Purity itself.

But now, Subaru’s bright, flustered grin suddenly fades. It sends a panic in you, a bile curling in your stomach and clawing up your throat until you want to slit your throat. “Aww, Subaru,” you say, as gentle as ever. “Is something the matter?” 

Subaru shakes his head hastily. Clears his throat. “N-No,” he says, “Just—how did you learn to write in Japanese?” 

You pause. Then, “Does Subaru not like it?”

“No, no,” Subaru stutters, gesturing his hands around wildly. “I do like it! I really, really like it, Emilia-tan, promise! It’s—god, this is like a birthday cake out of my dreams, I swear, but—I-I wasn’t expectin’ that you’d, um, know how to—”

You smile again and lightly tap Subaru’s nose. It distracts him again, his cheeks bright red, just as you knew it would. “Well, silly, I’ve been wanting to learn for a while! It’s an ancient language hailing from Kararagi, I hear—” Subaru’s journal was an enlightening thing to look through. You figure that with only a few more loops you could read the entire thing from front to back and then recite it from memory. “—and you seem so passionate about it, so I wanted to learn just for you.”

Just for you. Haha, you’re really the most sincere person in the entire universe, aren’t you?

“Really, Emilia-tan…?” Subaru replies, completely awestruck. 

“Really,” you say, with the tilt of your head. This must be the Subaru that blue-haired maid saw, of course. Silly, silly Subaru, always thinking about other—

Subaru stands there, right beside you, biting down on the inside of his cheek like he always does when he’s uncertain about something. That’s your Subaru, always biting down words when he feels the need to. He’s still starry-eyed looking at you, of course, but there’s a bit of hesitation there now for some reason.

“Emilia…” he says, reluctant, “You look…”

“What do I look like right now?” you obediently ask. You have always had to ask these sorts of things, unfortunately. Half-devil witch. Half-devil witch in league with the actual half-devil witch. Half-devil witch who can come back to life after death. Half-devil witch who can return from death any time she wants, save everyone except for the times it really counts. You can look like a witch, but you can't act like one. Rem is gone. Petelgeuse is gone. Puck is gone. Fortuna is gone, gone, gone. Everyone has been gone in every timeline except—

“You looked a little… scary… for a moment,” Subaru mumbles. Then he shakes his head at a rather vigorous rate. “No, no, I was probably seeing things—sorry, Emilia-tan. I didn’t mean to be such a downer, and I don’t mean to insult you or anything, you’re still as beautiful as ever, I promise!”

You smile. You’re very good at smiling and waving. You can already feel your teeth scraping against your tongue again. “No need to apologize, Subaru. We all see things that frighten us for a moment, don’t we?” Your hand pats him on the head. He does this little flustered squeal at that, as always, and you laugh sweetly at him in reward. “Why don’t we go to the dining room and eat your cake there? You still have to blow out the candles, after all, and I need to go make sure your breakfast is all set too.”

“O-Oh!” Subaru startles. “Emilia-tan, you put in so much work for me and you really didn’t have to—”

You hum to yourself. “It’s okay, Subaru, there’s no need to put in any work today when it’s your birthday!” You reach for his hand with your own, the one that’s not holding the cake, and he eagerly holds your hand back. You squeeze it gently. “Come now, let’s just go already so we can celebrate!” 

This will likely take another loop.

“O-Okay, Emilia-tan,” Subaru says with a grin. And everything’s okay. Because Emilia declares it to be. Because, because, because—

Your name is Emilia, the very best Emilia, and you’re super duper good at everything you set your mind to!

[rollercoasterwords]

heyy, you said some time ago on an ask you hc Lily would give harry tons of mommy issues if alive, and I'm obsessed with this idea, please tell us more?

hi!!!! i did indeed say that….getting back to this a few days late but love this question 🌝🌝

to answer the first thing i have to explain is that in my mind lily is a bit of a cunt. she’s intelligent & ambitious—we know she was in slug club & made top marks despite not growing up in the wizarding world, which in my mind means she was likely competitive & had this sort of “i’m going to prove i’m better than these assholes” mentality & was also a perfectionist. she was used to being the favorite child/special one, bc we know her parents were excited abt her being a witch which is part of why petunia resented her; but then she had her sister & purebloods in the wizarding world putting her down, so i imagine that like…she’d have a strong sense of self worth and a need to prove herself, but also a bit of a martyr complex. at the same time, she had blinders on when it came to her own friend; we know she didn’t actually cut things off w severus despite him getting involved in nasty shit until he publicly called her a slur. this is actually one thing that i think is very similar about lily & james; though they both ostensibly had a very strong sense of justice, their blind spot was their close friends, which i imagine could make them both a bit hypocritical in that they’d say people who do x are bad but then forgive their friends who do x, etc.

ANYWAY. in a canon compliant setting if i am imagining lily & james relationship. well i’ll be honest i don’t think it was the perfect true love story etc that we’re sold in the books like. they were kids. i think that once they did get together it was v passionate & intense, made moreso by the fact that they were both fighting in a war & had the pressure of knowing they could die any day, etc.; if they hadn’t been fighting in a war, i think they would have broken up shortly after leaving school as they both followed different life paths & matured more as people & realized their first serious teenage relationship likely wasn’t going to be forever. BUT in a canon-adjacent/compliant universe war is on, their relationship is tumultuous but the dire circumstances make them cling to each other even tighter, & in my beautiful mind palace what happens is lily gets pregnant accidentally & they have a shotgun wedding. i’ve written an accidental pregnancy storyline w them in a few of my fics now so i can imagine it playing out in a couple ways, but no matter what in my mind lily was NOT planning to have a baby and has very mixed feelings about it—maybe she doesn’t realize she’s pregnant until it’s too late to do anything about it, maybe she considers aborting but decides against it, maybe she tries to abort but for some reason it doesn’t work or falls through…whatever happens, she ends up having the baby. now she’s a mother yayyyy except she’s a mum in like the most stressful circumstances ever & probably not having a joyous experience w her newborn. maybe some post-partum depression etc.

anyway. imagining canon breaking here and her becoming a mum…feel like this could go a few ways, and the exact mommy issues she’d give her kid would depend on which way it went. let’s say james dies on halloween but lily & harry both make it out; i definitely think part of her would sort of resent harry bc suddenly she’s 20 and she has to spend the rest of her life being a mum and she doesn’t get to enjoy her youth and have a normal life, and also she’s expected to raise the chosen one and also he’s kinda the reason her husband got killed. i think there’d be this sort of distance between them & i imagine her at times making an effort to be the loving mum she’s meant to be but ultimately it’s unsustainable, and harry grows up trying everything he can to make his mum really love him and develops a complex over feeling like there’s something fundamentally wrong with him bc that love & parental warmth just doesn’t come naturally to lily. & if this is a universe where voldemort’s still out to get harry then i imagine them moving around a lot, maybe living in hiding, her raising harry to one day take down voldemort…sorry but i do think she would turn him into the priest’s favorite sacrificial lamb. i think she would raise him to be a soldier/human sacrifice who is constantly feeling like he has to earn love, and neither of them would ever fully be able to give the other what they need or want, even though i do think lily would love harry…i just don’t think she’d always do a very good or consistent job of it!

[ivydbomb]

Get ready for a long Slay the Princess rant because I just had an idea. This may contain spoilers.

What if the voices could get more intense like the princess could? With each chapter they evolve and their key characteristics enhance tenfold. Becoming flanderizations of themselves as the story progresses. For example:

Voice of the Paranoid becomes Voice of the Psychotic. I think Psychosis is a step up from paranoia because often with bad mental breakdowns it starts with paranoia and ends in a psychotic break. The voice of the Psychotic would be distrusting of even the player. Going from ‘the only one you can trust is yourself’ to ‘Can’t trust anybody. Ever. They’re out to get you. You’re out to get me.’ He’d spend the route as a ranting mess trying to rationalize anything. He’d be stand offish to both The Narrator and the other voices. Not listening to anybody and calling them out for perceived instances of trying to ‘sabotage’ him.

I’ll do a few more of these. If you guys like them I’ll do all the voices.

Voice of the Stubborn becomes Voice of the Bloodthirsty. All he wants to do is make himself and the princess hurt. Not a sparring match where they bleed and break but ultimately get back up. Just a bloody brutal battle that never ends. Not even for a moment. He wants an endless sea of pain and for the princess to be drowning in it. Hell he’ll even try to fight The Narrator (he can’t but he’ll try). Every second you aren’t being bludgeoned or bludgeoning he’ll yell and scream at you to go to her. To attack without mercy or reprise. No clever fighting moves, only attack with animalistic fury. He wants you to use your own entrails to strangle her, he wants you to bleed so much you’re able to drown her in it, he wants nothing but violence. It’s no longer out of a powerful love, but out of a powerful thirst for blood.

Voice of the Smitten becomes Voice of the Lovesick. Every waking millisecond you are not at the princesses side he will spend wailing in heartbroken agony. When you finally do grace yourself with her presence he will be utterly speechless (shutting up for once). Unable to come up with words (even shakespearean ones) to describe her amazingness. If you ever even entertain the concept of harming her he will become furious and try killing you immediately. His fiery passion making you stab yourself without hesitation.

Voice of the Cold becomes Voice of the Unfeeling. He barely talks but when he does it’s in a completely emotionless tone and usually some sort of insult to the player. He urges the player and the voices to shut up, stop moving, or straight up kill themselves. He says everything too boring and nothing matters. They need to stop playing The Narrators game and just give up completely. He is practically the embodiment of depression at this point. He doesn’t care about you, The Narrator, the other voices, the Princess, or even himself. He just wants to slip into permanent silence.

I have ideas for others! Let me know if this is an interesting enough concept to flesh out fully!