#'hello brother i will fight and die for you'

[dandylovesturtles]

a comment on the other Step-brothers AU post made me think that yeah, I didn't really get into the interpersonal relationships at play and since this is still plaguing my mind and I wanna talk about it, here's the start of what will probably end up a very long post about the family dynamics in the Step-brothers AU

this is mainly focused on the main fam + April because if I start doing all the Caseys and other side characters too I'll die

let's start with big bro Sondheim

Sondheim and Draxum: As I mentioned in the first post, Heim has a really hard time not seeing Draxum as his boss, even after their rescue. The AU Draxum never encouraged any parental/child feelings between them, so Heim just has no idea how to approach it. Initially Draxum likes this ("Why can't the rest of you be as respectful as Sondheim?"), but eventually he realizes that Heim acts like that because there's a lack of trust and intimacy in their relationship. It will really take Heim getting closer to his little brothers, and learning to open up to them, that will lead into Draxum and Heim getting closer and moving into a familial relationship.

Sondheim and Raph: Heim is initially quite intimidated by Raph, not only because Raph is bigger than him but also because Raph seems to have himself together in a way Heim simply doesn't feel like he does (even if he seems to on the outside). Heim is also a bit jealous of how easily Raph interacts with the rest of his family, while Heim feels such a wall between himself and his brothers and dad. But ultimately Raph will be a great role model for Heim, and the two of them grow quite close, as Heim is willing to go to Raph for any big-brother advice. Also, while Heim generally acts pretty sociable and well-adjusted, he's also quite macho acting, since that's what was expected of him from the rest of the soldiers. Being around Raph, who is open with displays of affection and who still loves plushies even as an older teen, is great for helping Heim move into more healthy displays of masculinity. For Raph's part, he worries sometimes that he's not going to live up as the role model Heim needs, but he doesn't really need to worry so much.

Sondheim and Leo: On the surface, these two seem to have a great relationship - the two of them can chat easily and never fight. But if you actually paid attention to their conversations, you'd realize they're quite... surface level. As both Heim and Leo are very "conceal don't feel" types, neither of them push the other to open up, and as a result their conversations stay casual and peter out before long. This leads to them feeling quite distant from each other. It will take both of them growing their emotional maturity individually before they can get over the wall between them, probably more when they're adults. But they do like each other.

Sondheim and Donnie: Years of knowing Viv did not prepare Heim for Donnie, and honestly he's kind of scared. He doesn't know what to make of him, and he knows even less what to make of everyone's tolerance for his insane behavior. An explosion in the lair and no one's even getting up from their seats? Hello?? They have some of the same problems as Heim and Leo at first, but Heim has a hidden competitive side that comes out when he's playing games, and once the two of them start playing video games and board games together, it comes out and the two of them start really having fun together. As Heim gets more open and less worried about being abandoned, he and Donnie have the sort of relationship where they will openly shittalk each other for fun.

Sondheim and Wilde: Unlike Viv and Sulley, Wilde's attempts at bullying Heim never went anywhere. Heim was never intimidated by Wilde, and he emulated the nasty attitude the rest of the soldiers had toward Wilde, until making fun of him behind his back (and sometimes to his face) became second nature. As a result, Wilde and Heim have a pretty terrible relationship at first! Heim feels open to taking care of Viv and Sulley, but come on - does he really have to be a big brother to that guy? But in contrast to how Leo can't push Heim at all, Wilde can push Heim a lot, with all his exposed nerves right on the surface, and the barely concealed rage that Heim can actually relate to. Their rocky start leads to the two of them being accidentally more open with each other, leading to a slow but steady turn around in their relationship. Eventually Heim and Wilde are as close as the OU A Team, but it takes quite a lot of work to get there.

Sondheim and Vivaldi: Heim and Viv have always had a straight forward, business-like relationship, never exchanging many words other than to pass along orders. They initially maintain a very similar relationship once they start living together as brothers, neither of them really knowing how to have a relationship that goes deeper. Both of them struggle with learning who they are as people, let alone deal with all the new family dynamics that have been thrown their way. But because their struggles are so similar, Viv ends up having an easier time talking out his frustrations with Heim. Heim is less willing to open up to Viv, feeling responsible for him as an older brother, but soon enough talking through Viv's issues turns into Heim talking through his issues, too. The two of them for a very close bond over this, each feeling like the other is the only person in the world who understands what they're going through. Viv is the brother Heim grows closest to the fastest.

Sondheim and Mikey: While Viv is the brother Heim grows closest to the fastest, Mikey is the step-brother who slips past his walls first. Heim is willing to humor Mikey early on, as a way of trying to fit in with the family, and Mikey takes full advantage of this, eagerly slipping past Heim's defenses and nestling himself right into his heart. Initially Heim doesn't quite know how to handle it, but soon he's unbearably fond of Mikey, even if he playfully protests that he isn't. It helps that Heim doesn't treat Mikey like a baby the way Raph sometimes tends to, partly because Heim has his own baby to worry about. While their emotional relationship isn't as deep as Heim's relationship with Viv and eventually with Wilde, Heim is truly relaxed around Mikey even early on.

Sondheim and Sullivan: Heim didn't have much regard for Sulley for most of their lives, and now he feels a lot of regret for that. Their relationship effectively has to be built from the ground up, which isn't helped by Heim still trying to learn who he himself is. They have a lot of false starts and a lot of disastrous conversations, but Heim gradually slotting himself into his big brother role and caring for Sulley helps a lot. The two of them learn a lot about the wonder of hugs together.

Sondheim and April: Humans have been Heim's enemy for most of his life, and while he actually doesn't think they're all that dangerous (yokai always had the superiority in strength and mystic ability, and thanks to Draxum's mutagen and Donnie's tech they were steadily closing the gap in numbers and technology, too), he's still mystified that his alternate family would willingly interact with one. He's initially rude to April as a result, but she has so little tolerance for that that his dismissal quickly does an abrupt swing into respect - maybe a little too much respect, because he starts treating her like a boss, too. It takes them awhile to settle back into a friendship, and she becomes a great role model for Heim as well.

Sondheim and Splinter: Lou Jitsu died in Heim's universe, so while he always knew he was mutated with Lou Jitsu's DNA, he's never met the man. He's quite a bit shorter (and hairier!) than Heim expected! Heim initially treats Splinter with the reverence and respect he does Draxum, but Splinter pretty quickly dispels that notion by encouraging Heim to address him casually and generally just acting like his goofy dad self around Heim. Though the AU boys look at only Draxum as their dad, they do still lean on Splinter as a capable adult in their life, and Heim is no exception. He likes the tea Splinter makes.

[hallothere]

well I anticipate you getting some angsty ones, so for the wellbeing of our guys I'm just gonna sliiiiide 34 (Trust/Comfort/Safety) in here. heck why not a 79 (hugs) and 57 (rescue) while we're at it

T-T-T-TRIPLE COMBOOOOO (34, 79, 57)

(technically in compliance. this one is a little violent and near-death-y with a side of made-up Ranger surgery so. be warnéd)

Baugarch was dead, to begin with.

The warg-father, minion of sorcerers, and fell-guardian of the Blackwolds was finished.

And so was Ningeryn, daughter of Nirondil, Ranger of the Dunedain. She lay under the corpse, still holding one sword in her hand as it pierced the heart of her enemy. The other was lodged in the beast's back. Not enough to have killed it the first time.

It hurt too much to cry properly so she let the tears stream down her face. Her first assignment... and her last. At least she'd done it. At least she'd found the warg, even if she didn't have enough time to track it to its den, or warn Andreg. She was supposed to get backup before she faced the beast in combat. She hadn't had enough time.

The warg was now too heavy to lift. She tried, but she was well and fully pinned. She'd scared birds in the otherwise silent Chetwood when she cried out. It wasn't how she wanted to die, in the silent, empty forest. Alone. She tried to put a brave face on it. At least she'd done a good turn for the people of Combe, Archet, and the surrounding towns. Farmers wouldn't get eaten. Woodsmen neither.

And she'd put down the sorcerer's beast. The minion of the one that took Amdir from them. And Mundol and Toradan. And Reniolind... Reniolind had been her friend, and they'd ensorceled Amdir until he'd been stolen from them completely. Until he couldn't see friend and foe.

The tears came faster now that she thought of her friend. She'd die not far from him, maybe have her name etched next to his. But she'd wanted to live. She'd wanted to avenge him as she could, and keep the lands they'd promised to watch over safe. But she'd lashed out too hotly. Swung her swords with no thought of defense, only destroying the warg that represented everything horrible in Breeland.

Everything became dimmer for a bit. She wasn't sure how much later it had been when a horse whinnied in protest. Boots crunched in the leaf litter and then Baugarch's corpse lurched on top of her. She cried out again. The dead warg rolled into the grass and a blurry face filled up her vision.

"Ningeryn! Hang on. Hang on..." It was Andreg! He'd made it... She never thought anyone would. "You had to go and challenge the beast yourself..."

But the rescue had come too late. She squeezed his arm once and all went dark.

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

Ningeryn woke up screaming. She hadn't meant to, but the warg was clawing her again and that had already killed her once. She didn't want to do it again.

"Help her, Amlan!"

But that was Saeradan, and Saeradan would rather die than let her get torn to shreds. Well, if he could help it. And if Amlan was there too, they would be more than a match for some scruffy warg of Angmar.

On instinct she pressed her shoulders and head into the surface she was laying on. Wood. A floor maybe. There were hands on her arms, and she could feel them wavering as if they were actively afraid they'd hurt her. Someone was laying across her legs with equal hesitation. Saeradan needed her not to kick and roll. She would do it- anything- for him.

Ningeryn reached out for a hand and found one quickly. Heedless of the fact that there were bones under the skin, she squeezed it for all she was worth.

"Ningeryn?" It was Amlan this time. Sounding pained. Likely, his were the bones being reduced to dust. "Can you hear me?"

She nodded. It was all the motion she could stand, rigid and tensed against the pain as she was.

"Can you drink something? Saeradan can't stop now, you've lost too much blood. You were asleep before, but now--"

Now she knew. They were trying to save her. Ningeryn had fought to be here, in Bree, in the ranks of the Rangers. She would fight, but not fight Amlan and Saeradan and Andreg. That warg wouldn't kill her twice.

She managed to nod again, and to swallow something sweet and heavy. It went down bitterly, but it stayed down. Saeradan was muttering something soothing as he went to apply a different salve over what she presumed was a section he'd already sewn. Or, just maybe hot lava, as something like liquid flame touched an open cut and she screamed again.

She held Amlan's hand until it went dark once more.

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

Next she awoke, she was in the middle of drinking something freezing. She sputtered and that lit a fire in her torso. It was dulled, red embers maybe, but it was still there and it still hurt. The drink had been moved and someone was drying her face with a towel.

"You're safe. You're in Saeradan's house. It's me, Andreg, and you've been asleep for almost a day. Nestadam is on her way from Nen Harn, and she'll be here soon."

Ningeryn didn't respond as gently and eloquently. "Whahappen?" Her mouth felt dry- probably the reason for the offered drink- and she felt like her head was wrapped in wool.

"Do you remember anything? What was the last thing we talked about?"

She wanted to curse his protocol and his probing questions. But, she was still leaned up against him where he'd helped her to drink and she was very comfortable. One arm hugged supportively around her shoulders, the other lost to the void or possibly still holding the towel. Ningeryn was unfortunately familiar with being nursemaided, but it was still a safe feeling. A good feeling.

"I killed it," she said at last, "I killed that warg."

Andreg sighed. "Without backup. What possessed you--"

"Don't rile her up, Andreg." That was Saeradan. All gentle admonishment. "You think she hasn't learned her lesson?"

The hand she could feel tightened around her shoulder. "No, of course not." Not a true retort. Andreg was uncommonly quiet. But she was sure about why now, as she was coming out of the fog. He'd even warned her about it before she left. He couldn't lose another of them so soon. Not after Reniolind.

"I'm fine." Ningeryn said. If she sounded sure enough she might convince them both. "I'm tired, and it does hurt a little, but I'm fine."

"No you're not."

Aha. Two voices in tandem. Ningeryn let herself smile. Oh she was fine now, and she was sure they'd make certain of it.

[hauntingblue]

ENIES LOBBY TIME!!!

Sanji's face here.... he Knows he is going to fuck him up

THAT IS SANJI??? 😨

Holding them in my hands again....

Sanji struck a nerve there akdjaoajkq

Increible trio btw.... look at the evidence

............ me next please 🙏🏻

That is love right there I can see it

What if we all killed ourselves (except usopp is telling her the opposite ajahkdhsakjd)

I need sanji to go insane like this more often.... after the timeskip it doesn't happen as much and I love to see him suffering

This is so funny.... there is no denying to her face card

"It's not like she actually wants to die" well yes she does, but no because you know she doesn't really. It is in a quantum state right now

Luffy is such a menace akdhaksjkaak

TELL EM!!!! THAT'S MY GIRL!!!!

Look at franky worrying about robin.... do not fret luffy is coming and he will NOT lose!!!!!

This is zoro remarking how usopps fear of being left behind makes no sense.... this is so good.....

This is so endearing but it also breaks my heart....

Who is that sultry binch... (I don't recall this attack AT ALL and i'm sure we never see it again)

They botched his bbl.... 😔😔😔

Luffy's face here... he was convinced she wanted to go with them but was compelled to do otherwise but no.... he thought wrong and he can't fight to her.... I've just been staring at this page for minutes like damn.

Nevermind.... this is something your mother would say "you want to die??? Just wash the dishes and you can do whatever you want later"

"If you wanna die, or whatever...." this is so good like he knows what he is doing.... he Knows.... look at her face. After knowing how luffy and ace were as kids this just makes more sense (oda didn't think about this i'm sure but damn does it fit) also the slight manipulation.... look at all of us we're already here and look how we all miss you already... you know that post about luffy being selfish but his selfishness is jusg kindness to others... yesh

Thinking about robin's cinderella lifestyle.... why did her mother leave her with that aunt and why didn't some archeologist take her in?? Because she doesn't complain about anything just like she doesn't respond when that mother accused her of hitting her child without reason... that's so fucked

Alright this is funny (and also true)... I'm sorry fellow women....

*Justin Bieber voice* I like your laugh... dereishi shishishi

SHE'S GONNA ASK HER MOM TO TAKE HER TO THE SEA WITH HER??? LIKE SHE DOES AFTER WITH LUFFY??? MY GOD!!! I just bursted into tears like I got punched in the nose I can't keep going ajdhakajk

I lied i can keep going... but head in my hands over this....

Find out how my emotional stability survives this arc in ennies lobby part 2. coming soon

[eggfriedricedwasian]

Tim Drake probably got into fights at school, but he didn't start the fights, he'd finish them. He'd also get away scott free.

People think that they can ruin the Drake's name with their kid getting into fights and causing problems, but no. They encourage him to do these.

Janet had a firm stance in her belief to have the upper hand, so he'd never get in trouble, because she'd blackmail and/or grill into the principal so hard they had to let him go and give the other kid(s) punishment.

Jack had one solid rule, don't start a fight, finish it, and always win. He enforced it by having occasional spars with Tim whenever he could and signed Tim up for all kinds of martial arts to make sure he knew how to fight.

Janet signed him up for whatever else extracurriculars he wanted(ballet, gymnastics, theater, art, vocal coaching, instruments, figure skating, track, etc.).

So just imagine, Tim Drake, publicly known to get into and win so many fights but with no prior context is seen as a trouble maker till they see how well behaved he is. They talk badly about him though, how much of a bad kid little Tim Drake who physically looks like his father but has the face and acts exactly like Janet when he speaks and leads.

And then his parents die and he doesn't cry. They think he's an even horrible kid for not caring about his parents' death even though he's torn.

And then he becomes a Wayne and his reputation, which only Alfred and Bruce know, brings the Wayne name down.

And then he becomes CEO of Wayne Enterprises and everyone expects him to be just like Bruce. What they don't expect is Janet Drake 2.0 when it comes to getting his way and the way he acts or Jack Drake 2.0 with his outstanding leadership and ideas and proposals and what not.

When the rest of the Waynes find out about his reputation, they don't believe it till they see it for themselves.

It's probably at a gala or some sorts. A socialite is being inherently racist towards Damian and talking about how bad of a kid he is. Tim is not standing for it.

"Oh I'm sorry!" he says just a but too loudly to get the attention if everyone in the place, "Would you care to finish that vile comment about my brother? That he was a what now."

"I do, in fact. Perhaps after everyone hears this you Waynes will do better to control that little devil and his unnatural brow-"

The socialite doesn't even get to finish his sentence when Tim karate chops their neck, making them choke(literally) in their own words.

"Oh what was that? Did someone who is actively cheating on their own wife with the underage heir of another company be racist towards my underage and tri-racial brother? Sorry? Did a pedophile defiling the 15 year old daughter of the Miller's family say my 11 year old brother's skin was the sign of the devil? Hm?"

No one says a word, even as they watch Tim twist his words and spill out every secret and dirty fact about the socialite.

They don't even stop him as they watch him beat the crap out of the person with out even trying when said person tries to throw hands with Timothey Jackson Drake, publicly known for getting into fights and winning as well as being graduated from every martial arts class in Gotham ever.

Police were involved, headlines were made, the Miller heir was no longer seen in public and her younger sibling was pronounced heir, and Tim Drake, not Wayne, got off without a scratch, repercussion, or warning.

Damian has never felt an older siblings' loving protection more than he did when he saw Tim grill that socialite. He s never felt more respect for the guy before. And suddenly Dick was lower on the sibling scale.

He was lower on the sibling scale for everyone. Good by #1 sibling Dick Grayson and hello Tim Drake.

Have a problem? Someone's mean or is picking a fight? Don't worry, Tim Drake's there.

Drake is more noticeable than Wayne when it comes to Tim, and everyone finds it out the hard way.

[usuallydyinginside]

TLDR: Francesca Bridgerton is Autistic. Fight me.

Okay so I did not go into Season 3 of Bridgerton expecting to have any feelings about Francesca Bridgerton. We have seen her only in glimpses in the show and I have not read the books, so I knew basically nothing about her before binging the first four episodes.

But guys. GUYS. I will die for this autistic queen.

Okay, so starting with first impressions. We know that on her big day, Francesca went out of her way to avoid her nosy, loud family by having a very early, quiet breakfast by herself and then calming down via playing the piano (clearly a special interest of hers).

In her first balls, we see Francesca light up any time she talks about music (clearly her current or forever special interest) but as soon as men try to take it to a flirting place she IMMEDIATELY shuts down. It's clear that even as she states very matter-of-factly that she plans to marry this season, she also is baffled and uncomfortable any time someone tries to actually, ya know, court her.

At one of her first shindigs, she got attention and then went up to her brother and (while making almost no eye contact) told him (rather than asked him) that she needed a sec.

She then sat by herself in the side of the ballroom.

Later on, she left a ball in search of quiet and solitude to fix her sensory overload, so she went outside this time. (A thing that we know from pervious seasons is a HUGE no-no, particularly unchaperoned. But she was very respectfully near the door so maybe that's fine?) The point is that she cares very much about staying respectable so she can get this marriage thing over with and get people to stop perceiving her, yet she risks some scandal by going outside just so she can be somewhere quiet alone.

Enter: this absolute (also autistic) Prince Charming.

He says hello (so she knows he's not like trying to sneak up on her in the dark like a creep) and then just stands there. 10/10, no notes, best way to flirt I have ever seen in my life.

Seriously just look at this. I'm in love. Never before has there been a greater sign of love at first sight than in this "standing politely five feet apart in total silence in the middle of a ball and enjoying each other's company."

I need to go watch these first four episodes about a hundred more times, but I THINK this might be the first sincere smile we see from Francesca??!? I at least got the impression immediately that this is the first time she's felt genuinely comfortable and happy while not entirely alone this season.

Like, these nerds did not even exchange names. They barely exchanged a word. Yet you can see them falling head over heels in love right there in that moment. I don't even LIKE love at first sight tropes and they have my whole heart. They are the only exception.

Then, of course, you have this second absolutely iconic Scene of Silence where the entire Bridgerton family stares in neurotypical confusion a these two amazing weirdos. The way these two do not know each other but they DO know each other. The way they are both so happy and so comfortable but also still playing the whole society game the way they were told they had to?? I just don't have words right now.

LOOK AT HER SMILE, GUYSSSSSSSS.

Look how happy this tiny, silent moment is making her. How she understands immediately what he's doing and is absolutely delighted to participate too even knowing her entire family is hardcore judging them from not that far away.

And then you get this smug little look from him and it's like you can see his autistic ass thinking, "Yes. I calculated correctly. This was the correct romance option. Gold star to me." (Okay, maybe that's just how my brain works but shhhhh)

Which, of course, brings us to this absolutely hilariously awkward ND attempt at flirting. We start off with some fairly normal "whoops, I'm flustered cause you make me nervous" sort of moments, but notice how little eye contact she makes. How she only looks in his eyes very briefly and it seems like she almost has to remind herself to do so when she's doing the "polite" answers (OR later when she's genuinely interested in a topic).

So as soon as Francesca is like "oh shit, I ruined it. I forgot how to neurotypical. It's over" then she loses patience with the practiced social niceties.

I spent like 30 minutes trying to find a GIF and I should already be asleep so I'm not going to go learn how to make one BUT I needed to look up exactly what happens next cause it's basically the most autistic thing I've ever seen.

WHICH IS that in response to the second awkward silence after Francesca shares all of this, John's response is, "That is helpful. If you'll excuse me."

Then dude bro just WALKS AWAY WITHOUT ANOTHER WORD.

Like it would be awkward anyway but now Francesca thinks she misread a social cue so she's feeling sad, and meanwhile this absolute king is over here on a romantic mission no one asked him to do because he is that set on showing her he's listening and cares.

The man shows up at the ball and as soon as he had a paper we were all screaming "he wrote her a song!!!"

Again, notice the eye contact (or lack thereof). I think with period dramas and women, it's easy to just go "oh she's just shy" or "she's just being demure like she's supposed to" but like NO. This girl does not want to meet anyone's eyes.

Until she does. Because in moments where she's talking about music or enjoying quiet, it's worth it to purposefully meet his eyes and see how he's feeling too. To make sure he can see she's happy.

ANYWAY, it was so much better than him writing a song for her.

SO. MUCH. BETTER.

Because he didn't just give her any ol' music. He sought out the music they'd specifically heard in the street, and he took her exact specifications on what was "wrong" with the music, and he FIXED IT. He then put the whole thing on sheet music and handed her a copy with no further explanation than this.

Our autistic lass was so excited she basically sprinted out of that ball so she could find a piano. (Which, the fact that she does this rather than try to stay and flirt/dance with the man who just gave her this incredible gift ALSO says a lot, just saying. Daphne could never.)

So our girl finds a piano and GUYS. LOOK AT HOW HAPPY SHE IS.

I'm pretty sure this woman would accept a proposal right this second. Maybe make one herself. She is so head over heels in love with this man that it's absurd. We have watched her mask in these first four episodes, but the last two where she's interacting with John are the first times she seems genuinely happy and like the real her is shining through.

Like, does she enjoy her family? Sure. But it's obvious (and she even tells us) that she finds them overwhelming and generally to be A Lot. But these scenes? This gesture?

You can just get how seen she feels. How weird and wild and amazing it is to her that this man can see who she actually is and wants to join her there instead of making her play some part of the perfect Bridgerton who likes to be the center of attention.

(And even here - the EYE CONTACT. She glances at people when she's talking to them, but the way she looks at the sheet music is so much more intense and intimate and personal than anytime she's looking at the average person in the show. She still even in places she's most comfortable, such as sitting at the piano, makes very little eye contact and only at very specific moments.)

Anyway I'm going to sleep now but I'm sure I'll add more thoughts as they come to me. Feel free to add your own case for why Francesca is autistic and/or otherwise neurodivergent. I want to hear allllllll the thoughts.

[lizzyiii]

Hello, I would like to make an obscene yandere request to Aemond Targaryen for a cousin who is a Helen of Troy, she never met her cousins ​​and Gwayne locked her in the lighthouse because the children in Antigua have already declared duels and fights for her, please

“Alexa play Angel by Massive Attack.”

A Beauty Too Tempting

pairing | aemond x cousin!reader word count | 5.4k summary | when aemond targaryen learns of his cousin—a beauty so captivating that men are willing to die for you—he becomes dangerously obsessed, determined to claim you for himself. tags | 18+ MDNI! smut, p in v, slight dubcon, fingering, oral sex (f) receiving, possessive sex, rough sex, virginity kink, breeding kink, obsession, dirty talk, no description for reader, creampie, religious guilt, guys this was crazzzyyy, yandere aemond, delusional aemond, obsessive aemond. a/n | this was such an interesting and creative prompt, damnnnn. also I think this might be the best smut I've ever written. KEEP BOTH HANDS ON THE PHONE (NOT PROOFREAD)

likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Aemond had finally ascended.

His reckless, wine-soaked brother was a shadow of the past, burnt and broken beyond repair. Though the Seven Kingdoms still called him “Prince Regent,” Aemond knew he held the true power of a king—and wielded the might of a dragon unmatched in all the realm.

He was Prince Regent, yes, but also the rider of Vhagar, the Queen of Dragons, the slayer of Daemon Targaryen, the butcher of his treacherous half-sister and her rabble of bastards.

At God’s Eye, he had cast Daemon down, wresting from him the title of warrior to which he clung so stubbornly. And when Alys Strong’s deceit led him astray, she too had met the edge of his blade, her charms and false promises extinguished in the cold stone of Harrenhal’s dungeons. Now, what was left of his family was but the bones of the house.

Only his mother and his niece remained, the ones bound by duty and blood. Helaena, broken by grief and driven mad with sorrow, had thrown herself from her chamber balcony, finding an end that her shattered mind had long sought. Aegon, the crown’s fool, lay in a stupor of smoke and agony, burned and nearly lifeless after his fall from Moondancer’s flames.

But Aemond ruled now—his alone was the realm’s rightful power. The Seven Kingdoms were his to bend, as was his every desire. He had broken his betrothal to the Baratheon girl without a second thought; a warlord and dragonrider of his stature deserved a bride worthy of his legend. He was the last dragon of House Targaryen, and his queen would be a beauty revered, one whose grace and purity might rival the Maiden herself.

And that was when Aemond first heard of you.

Fleeting whispers had reached him from Oldtown, speaking of his uncle Gwayne’s daughter—a maiden so beautiful that men spoke of you as if you were touched by the gods. Tales claimed you had been cloistered away in the Watchtower’s highest chamber, veiled to protect the eyes and sanity of any man who caught sight of you.

There, concealed behind shadows and stone, you were kept far from the reach of suitors who risked life and honor in duels, each vying for even a single glimpse of your face.

Your father, Ser Gwayne Hightower, had fallen in the fires of the Dance, and your mother had died bearing you, leaving you alone in that desolate tower—an unclaimed jewel, hidden and waiting.

The thought stirred something fierce within Aemond. He would go to you, he decided. He would see this beauty so lauded, this Hightower daughter untouched by the world’s corruptions, and he would decide if you were worthy to become his Queen, his Targaryen bride. For if your beauty proved true, you would belong to him alone, bound by devotion and a loyalty owed only to the dragon and its rider.

After landing Vhagar just outside Oldtown, Aemond took a horse into the city, riding with the air of a conqueror. But even he was taken aback by the scene awaiting him. High walls surrounded the Watchtower of House Hightower, fortified and stern, yet it was the gathering outside that seized his attention.

Hundreds of men crowded the courtyard and spilled into the streets, shouting, some nearly brawling as they jostled against one another. Their voices rose in a fervent cacophony, names and cries echoing like a battle chant.

Aemond’s gaze swept over them with disdain. Fools, all of them, clamoring over the mere hope of being in your presence. As he approached the Tower’s gates, the guards lowered their spears and bowed their heads, recognizing the rider of Vhagar, the One-Eyed Prince who now held the realm in his grip.

They opened the gates without question, allowing him through to the Tower’s base, where a young servant girl waited nervously.

She kept her eyes down as she led him up the spiraling stairway to the highest chamber. But Aemond’s curiosity simmered, and his tone was sharp when he finally spoke. “Who are these men gathered outside? What madness drives them to swarm like starving wolves?”

The servant’s face went pale, but she dared to glance up briefly, voice trembling. “They’re suitors, my prince…men from every corner of the realm. Many have traveled from the Reach and the Riverlands, even as far as Dorne and the North, all to seek my lady’s hand.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, a dark satisfaction curling at the edge of his lips. While the Dance Of Dragons had gone on, you had become something of a legend—a prize for fools and hopeful knights. But you were not for them.

“Let them scream themselves hoarse,” he murmured coldly, mostly to himself, as they reached the final stretch of the climb. His voice softened, though the weight of his words was fierce. “By nightfall, they will know she belongs to me alone.”

The servant kept her gaze down, fearful of the silent promises in his tone. They finally reached the door to the high chamber, and with a deep breath, she pushed it open, bowing as he strode past her.

As Aemond stepped inside, the air was thick with expectation, and he knew: he would let none of those suitors have you—not while he still breathed.

A figure stood near the narrow window, framed by the dim light filtering through the high stone walls. Draped in a gown as pale as starlight, a delicate veil fell over your hair and face, obscuring your features with an ethereal softness.

You looked less like a woman of flesh and blood, more like some forgotten goddess cast down from the heavens, your beauty hidden behind gauze and shadow. Almost nervously, the servant girl who had led Aemond withdrew, sparing one last, uncertain glance before closing the heavy door, leaving him alone with the lady in white.

The room was silent but for the faint rustle of fabric as the veiled woman turned, your movements graceful yet guarded. You saw him—a tall, imposing figure shrouded in the black and crimson of House Targaryen, his silver hair gleaming like the steel at his hip.

Though your vision was blurred by the veil, there was no mistaking him. Even in the isolated walls of your tower, you had heard tales of him, whispered rumors that crept into your dreams. Aemond Targaryen—the One-Eyed Kinslayer, the dragonrider who had torn through his own blood, leaving most of House Targaryen ashes in his wake.

A shiver coursed through you as you lowered your head, barely daring to meet his single, penetrating gaze. You bent your head respectfully and murmured, “Your grace.”

At the sound of your voice—soft and lilting, as if it had drifted down from the heavens—Aemond’s breath hitched, and he paused, his gaze never wavering. You sounded like the very embodiment of the myths that had reached him, a voice so pure it defied the violence that had carved his path to you.

He took slow, deliberate steps toward you, each one bringing him closer to the veiled creature he had come to claim. “I am not only your Prince Regent,” he said, his voice low, almost reverent. “I am your kin as well.”

You nodded, your lashes fluttering beneath the veil. “Of course…cousin,” you replied shyly, your voice no more than a murmur, though it reached him clearly in the silence of the chamber.

Aemond’s lips curved, a hint of satisfaction flickering across his face as he closed the distance between you. “You must know,” he continued, his tone possessive yet calm, “that I have not come all this way merely out of kinship. You are spoken of as if you were a queen in waiting…your beauty, your grace. Men would kill for a single look upon your face.”

Your cheeks warmed beneath the veil, though you dared not lift your head. The idea of such fierce, consuming attention unsettled you, yet you could not deny the pull he exerted on your senses—a dark, magnetic power that seemed to draw you closer, even as your instinct told you to step back.

“And now,” Aemond murmured, lifting a hand toward you, fingers ghosting over the edge of your veil, “it is I who have come to see if these tales hold truth. To decide if you are worthy…to stand beside me as my queen.” He let the words hang in the air, laden with meaning, with possession.

Beneath the veil, your lips parted, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The One-Eyed Prince had not come to court or woo you like the other men clamoring below; he had come to claim you, with a certainty that brooked no refusal.

“Tell me, cousin,” he whispered, his tone heavy with dark intent, a veiled promise lying beneath each word. “Would you defy me if I named you mine?”

He drew closer, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a shiver through you as your heart hammered against your ribs. The weight of his claim felt as tangible as the stone walls around you, and in that instant, you knew defiance was a luxury that held no place here.

Before you could gather the breath to respond, Aemond’s hand rose toward your veil, his fingertips hovering just above its delicate fabric. A sense of desperation seized you, and your voice broke through the silence, raw and pleading. “Don’t! Please… I only wish to spare you.”

Aemond’s lips curved in a faint, humorless chuckle, his eye gleaming with something far more dangerous than mere amusement. “Spare me?” he murmured, as though the very idea amused him.

“You misunderstand, cousin. I do not seek to be saved.” His voice softened, yet the iron in his tone was unmistakable. “I seek only to behold my future wife.”

Your heart raced, every instinct urging you to step back, but your body seemed to betray you, rooted to the spot as Aemond reached out, his fingers grazing the edge of your veil. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted it, casting the thin fabric away and laying bare the face that had haunted his imagination.

The moment the veil fell, silence claimed the room, broken only by Aemond’s sharp intake of breath. His gaze devoured each feature of your face, sweeping over you with an intensity that bordered on reverence, as if he were drinking in the sight of a rare and coveted treasure.

He exhaled slowly, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his fingers traced a line along your cheek, his touch both possessive and tender. “Beautiful…” he breathed, his voice thick with awe and something deeper, something darker. “Far more than any tale could capture. You are… a vision.”

A flicker of fear mingled with the warmth on your cheeks, and you dared to lift your gaze to his, the intensity of his stare almost unbearable. He studied you, and you sensed it was not mere admiration that darkened his eye, but hunger—a need so consuming it seemed to radiate from him.

“From this day forward,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the line of your jaw, “you are mine. And I… I will allow no one, not even the gods, to take you from me.”

Your breath caught as Aemond’s fingers ghosted over your skin, sparking a fire that seemed to radiate through every inch of you. For a fleeting moment, your eyelids fluttered closed, helplessly savoring the sensation. But reality, sharp and undeniable, tore them open again, reminding you where you stood—and with whom.

“C-Cousin, please…” you murmured, your voice trembling as your hands pressed against the hard plane of his chest, a fragile attempt to create space. “This… this cannot be. You should not…”

The words stumbled from your lips, half-hearted at best, even as your body betrayed you, arching subtly toward him, drawn like steel to a magnet. A flush of warmth rose beneath your skin, pooling in your cheeks, and beneath the thin fabric of your gown, your nipples peaked, aching under his gaze. The rush of sensations nearly overwhelmed you, each one more intoxicating than the last.

Aemond’s lips curved in a knowing, wicked smile, his eye gleaming as he took in your struggle, your futile attempts at resistance. He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, so close that his breath mingled with yours, warm and heady.

“Wrong?” he murmured, his voice a dark, velvet caress, each syllable dripping with unrestrained desire. “There is no wrong between us, cousin. Only what was always meant to be…only fate and desire.”

Your heart raced, pounding against his chest, each beat echoing the dangerous thrill of his words. His hand slipped to the nape of your neck, his touch firm and possessive, as though he could bind you to him with that single gesture. He tilted your head ever so slightly, his mouth hovering just above yours, his gaze burning with intent.

“We are bound by blood,” he whispered, his words low and fervent, “by something far stronger than any foolish notion of right or wrong.” His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, a featherlight touch that set your skin alight. “Do you not feel it, the way I do?”

You barely managed a nod, your mind clouded by the closeness, by the undeniable pull of him. With a fluid, almost predatory grace, Aemond’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, so close you could feel every contour of his lean frame pressing into yours.

His chest was a wall of heat, solid beneath your touch, and your breath hitched as you became all too aware of the hardness pressing insistently against your belly.

“Let me guide you,” he whispered, his mouth brushing the shell of your ear, his breath warm and laced with promise, “to pleasures beyond the realm of mortal imagination.” His voice was low, dark, each word dripping with seduction as he continued, “Yield to me, and I shall make you mine in ways the world could scarcely comprehend.”

Every syllable curled around you, dissolving your remaining resistance like morning mist. Against all sense, your body softened, your resolve unraveling beneath his spell. Aemond’s words, woven with desire and power, coaxed you toward surrender. You melted against him, instinctively seeking the warmth he offered, your heart racing as his grip on you tightened possessively.

“Cousin…” you whispered, barely a breath, a mingling of plea and prayer.

Aemond’s lips curved, and he let out a soft, almost condescending click of his tongue, a smirk flickering in his eye. “I ask for so little,” he said, his tone deceptively light before his voice softened, becoming tender, almost reverent.

“Simply allow me to reign over you, to be the master of your heart and soul. Give me your loyalty, your love, your fear… let me own you in spirit and in flesh. Do that,” he murmured, his mouth grazing your jawline, “and I will serve you, worship you, slave to your every desire.”

A tremor ran through you as his hand drifted lower, fingers grazing the swell of your breast. Your nipple pebbled instantly, a jolt of pleasure-pain shooting straight to your core. You gasped, your hips involuntarily rolling against his straining erection.

“Please... ” you whimpered, your resistance breaking in the face of such carnal temptation. ”I-I am a maiden, a child of the Seven.”

A low chuckle rumbled in Aemond's chest as he felt your delicate form yield to his touch, your body betraying its innate desire despite your protests. His fingers curled around the plump mound of your breast, kneading the soft flesh through the thin fabric of your gown.

“Child no longer,” he rasped, his thumb circling your aching nipple, coaxing it to an even harder peak. ”Maidenhood ends today, and a woman shall be born.”

With a swift tug, he ripped the laces of the front of your gown, exposing the swells of your breasts to his hungry gaze. He palmed them roughly, thumbs teasing the stiff peaks as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, plundering the sweetness within with his tongue.

"Mine," he growled against your lips, his hands roaming your body possessively

Your cry of shock morphed into a moan of ecstasy as Aemond's mouth ravaged yours, his dominant presence swallowing your very essence. The rough handling of your breasts sent sparks of delight coursing through your veins, your nipples throbbing in time with the pounding of your heart.

"No...no," you breathed against his lips, the words tumbling out unbidden. "This is wrong... this is sinful."

Ignoring your feeble protests, Aemond continued to explore your body with unrestrained lust. His hands roamed freely over your curves, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence usually reserved for sacred texts.

“Sinful indeed,” his voice was a husky purr against your lips. “Yet how sweetly addictive it tastes.”

His hands trailed lower, bunching your skirts to your waist to find the damp curls at the apex of your thighs. He groaned at the wetness he found there, a testament to your body's readiness for him.

“Such a delectable little cunt...” he whispered, his fingers slipping between your folds to test your readiness.

Your head fell back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat as Aemond's skilled fingers delved deeper, stroking your slickened flesh with a confident touch. A shudder rippled through you, your hips canting upwards in desperate pursuit of more.

“P-please...” you gasped, your voice trembling with devastation. “I...I've never...”

Aemond's knowing smirk only heightened your mortification, yet it couldn't quell the inferno building inside you. Your body was aflame, craving the release only he could provide.

“I'm afraid...” you murmured though your eyes were glazed with desire.

Aemond's eye gleamed with triumph as he watched you squirm under his touch, your innocence and inexperience only fueling his desire. He pressed a finger inside you, feeling your tight walls clench around the invading digit.

“Fear not, sweet cousin,” he cooed, his voice dripping with false reassurance. “I will be gentle... at first.”

He pumped his finger slowly, savoring the exquisite sensation of your virgin passage yielding to his touch. His thumb circled your pearl, applying just enough pressure to send jolts of pleasure racing through your nerves.

“You're doing wonderfully,” he praised, his free hand sliding up your thigh to grip your hip firmly. “Now, let's see if we can't coax out that pretty little scream, hmm?”

Your mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the onslaught of sensations assaulting your senses. Aemond's fingers moved within you with a practiced ease, each thrust and twist sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.

“N-no...stop!” you managed to choke out, even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch. “It's too much!”

Aemond's grin widened, his eye flashing with dark amusement at your futile attempts to resist. He withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching for more.

“Foolish girl,” he chided, his tone dripping with condescension. ”You crave this, every bit of it. Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind doesn't.”

He seized your wrists, pinning them above your head against the window as he loomed over you, his face inches from yours. His hot breath fanned across your cheeks, carrying the scent of smoke and masculine musk.

“Now, be a good little maiden and spread your legs for me,” he commanded, his voice low and commanding. “Let me taste you.”

Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your body thrumming with a mix of fear and exhilaration as Aemond's dominance asserted itself. Despite your reservations, a traitorous part of you yearned for the promised pleasure, your core clenching in anticipation.

"N-no...I won't...” you stammered, even as your thighs trembled, betraying your resolve. Aemond's grip on your wrists tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he forced you to submit.

“Please...” the word escaped your lips before you could stop it, a plea for mercy that sounded suspiciously like a plea for more, though confusion filled you, ”Why would you wish to taste me?”

Aemond's gaze raked over your trembling form, drinking in every quiver and gasp with sadistic delight. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his words dripping with dark promise.

"Because, my dear cousin," he purred, "I want to devour every inch of you until you forget your own name. Until all you know is my touch, my taste, my possession."

With a wicked grin, he released your wrists, only to grab your waist and throw you down upon your bed. You had no time to react before he settled between your legs, his shoulders pushing your thighs apart as he lowered his head, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh.

Your heart raced, pounding in your ears as Aemond's words painted a vivid picture of degradation and desire. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly at his mercy as he positioned himself between your spread thighs.

“And then, once I've had my fill,” he continued, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your slit, “I'll make you beg for more.”

“No...please...” your protests dissolved into a whimper as his tongue made contact with your aching sex, the wet heat of it sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Aemond chuckled darkly at your feeble attempts to resist, the vibrations of his laughter sending shivers through your core. He increased the pressure of his tongue, lapping at your slick folds with relish, savoring the taste of your arousal.

“It's too much...I c-can't take it...” even as you spoke, your hips bucked upward, seeking more of that intoxicating sensation. Your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer, to grind yourself against his questing mouth.

“You lie, sweet cousin,” he murmured against your flesh, his voice muffled but unmistakable. “You crave this, crave me. Your body sings for me, begs for my touch.”

He sucked gently on your pearl, the suction pulling a sharp cry from your lips. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he feasted on your cunt, his skillful tongue driving you closer to the edge with each passing moment.

“Release for me,” he commanded, his eye locking onto yours, burning with an intense, possessive hunger. “Let go and give me everything.”

Your entire being was consumed by the inferno of pleasure that Aemond ignited within you. His words, his touch, his very presence overwhelmed your senses until nothing existed beyond the coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter in your core.

“Ahh...oh gods...Aemond!” your cries echoed off the stone walls as you said his name for the first time and he pushed you relentlessly towards your peak. Your back arched off the bed, your nails raking down his scalp as you held him close, grinding shamelessly against his face.

“Yes...yes! Don't stop...please don't stop...” you babbled incoherently, lost to the maelstrom of sensation. And then, with a final flick of his tongue, you shattered, your release ripping through you with the force of a tidal wave.

As your climax crashed over you, Aemond drank in your essence, reveling in the taste of your release. He lapped at your spasming cunt, prolonging your pleasure until you finally went limp beneath him, panting and dazed.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction as he gazed up at your flushed face. He crawled up your body, claiming your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to plunder the sweetness of your mouth.

“Now, let us see how well you respond to other pleasures,” he murmured against your lips, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple into a stiff peak. “We have only just begun to explore the depths of your devotion.”

Your mind reeled, struggling to process the intensity of what had just transpired. Aemond's control over your body was absolute, leaving you weak and pliant in his grasp. Yet even as you trembled with aftershocks of pleasure, a thrill of anticipation coursed through you at his words.

“Other pleasure?” you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the fear that lingered, a spark of curiosity ignited within you, drawing you deeper into the unknown realm Aemond promised to show you.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your breasts heaving with each ragged breath as he fondled them. The sensation of his calloused palm against your tender flesh sent jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core, making you ache for more.

Aemond's smile was a wicked curve of his lips as he watched your reaction, delighting in the way your body responded to his touch.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I speak of the exquisite agonies of pleasure, cousin. The kind that make you scream and beg for mercy even as you crave more. The sort that leave you trembling and spent, yet yearning for the next touch, the next thrust...”

His hand slid lower, fingers tracing the juncture of your thighs before dipping into your drenched folds. He circled your sensitive pearl, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

“Shall I show you these delights, Beloved? Shall I push you to the very brink of madness and back again, all for my own entertainment?”

A shiver ran down your spine at Aemond's words, a delicious chill that mixed with the heat building inside you. His touch was both gentle and ruthless, coaxing out responses you didn't know you possessed. Your hips bucked involuntarily as he stroked your most intimate places, seeking more friction and relief.

“Y-yes please...” you breathed, the word torn from you on a moan. Your hands came up to tangle in his long silver hair, holding him close as if to anchor yourself against the storm of sensations he unleashed.

Aemond's fingers danced across your sensitive flesh, pushing you higher and higher until you teetered on the edge of another release. Your vision blurred, your lungs burned for air, and still he teased, denying you the release you craved.

“Please...I need more,” you whined.

Aemond chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending vibrations through your quivering form. He released your pearl, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh before gripping your hip possessively.

“More, hmm?”

He leaned back, his piercing gaze drinking in every flush of color on your skin, every hitch of your breath. “Very well, cousin. Let us see how you fare against my cock.”

With a swift motion, he shed his trousers, freeing his rigid length. It stood proud and unyielding, the tip already glistening with pearly wetness. Aemond grasped your ankles, spreading your legs wide as he positioned himself between them.

Your eyes widened as Aemond revealed his manhood, the sight of it making your mouth go dry. The size and shape were intimidating, but a part of you thrilled at the prospect of being stretched so completely. You nodded, unable to find your voice as he spread your legs wider, exposing you fully to his hungry gaze.

“Are you ready to be filled, to be claimed in the most primal way possible?” He asked, his voice a husky growl.

"Yes...” you managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

Aemond's grip on your ankles tightened as he aligned himself with your entrance. The head of his cock pressed against your slick folds, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for the intrusion.

“Please don't hurt me,” you whispered, your voice tinged with desperation.

Aemond's expression softened slightly at your plea, though the intent in his eye remained unchanged - a fierce, almost feral hunger. He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “I would never harm you, sweetling," he paused, "at least not unless you begged me to."

With that, he surged forward, his thick cock driving into your welcoming heat in one powerful stroke. Your cry echoed through the chamber as you were split open around him, your body stretching to accommodate his impressive girth.

“Fuck, you're tight,” he groaned, pausing for a moment to let her adjust. His hips flexed, pulling nearly all the way out before plunging back in, setting a relentless pace. So fucking perfect...

A sharp cry tore from your throat as Aemond's massive cock impaled you, the sudden invasion sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your core. You arched your back, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move within you, each thrust driving deeper and harder than the last.

"Gods...it's too much..." you panted, struggling to breathe through the intensity of the sensation. “You're so big...”

Despite the discomfort, your body seemed to mold itself to his, craving the stretch and fullness he provided. Your inner walls clenched around him, trying to draw him in even further.

“More...give me more...” you whimpered, your hips rising to meet his punishing rhythm.

Aemond grunted in satisfaction at your wanton pleas, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The obscene slap of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by your keening cries.

“That's it, take it all,” he growled, his hand fisting in your hair as he angled your head back. “Scream for me, let everyone hear how thoroughly I'm claiming you.”

His free hand slid between your joined bodies, finding your swollen pearl and rubbing mercilessly. The dual stimulation had you writhing beneath him, your body wound tighter than a bowstring.

"Come for me, Beloved,” Aemond demanded, his voice rough with lust. “Come on my cock like the desperate little maiden you are.”

The words fell from Aemond's lips like honeyed poison, stoking the flames of your desire until they consumed you whole. Your release crashed over you like a tidal wave, your vision blurring at the edges as ecstasy coursed through your veins.

“Yes! Oh gods, yes!” you screamed, your voice echoing off the stone walls.

Your inner muscles spasmed wildly around Aemond's pistoning cock, milking him for all he was worth. The pressure building at the base of your spine reached a fever pitch before exploding outward in a burst of pure bliss.

“Aemond!” your name was a ragged gasp as you convulsed beneath him, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.

Aemond threw his head back with a triumphant roar as your orgasm triggered his own. His cock pulsed inside you, spilling his hot seed deep into your clencing cunt. Each jet seemed to last an eternity, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

“Take it all,” he snarled, grinding his pelvis against yours to ensure every drop was absorbed by your eager flesh. “You're mine now, forever and always.”

As the final spurts subsided, Aemond collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily as he savored the aftermath of their coupling.

When Aemond's release flooded your womb, you felt a sense of profound completion wash over you. Your body went limp beneath him, utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.

“Yours...” you echoed softly, the word falling from your kiss-swollen lips in a daze. “Forever and always...”

As exhaustion tugged at you, your limbs grew heavy, and the events of the day settled over you like a warm, thick blanket. Nestled in Aemond’s arms, you felt a strange comfort, a warmth you’d scarcely known, drawing you closer into his embrace as sleep beckoned. The solid strength of him, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it was all that held you tethered as your eyes drifted shut.

“Rest now, my love,” he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rasp, laced with a possessiveness that left no doubt of his intentions. “We have much to discuss when you’ve recovered.”

Even as you slipped into the gentle embrace of sleep, Aemond remained vigilant, his gaze never leaving you. His mind churned with plans and possibilities, already anticipating the obstacles that lay ahead. He knew that securing his claim upon you—upon both of you—would not come easily.

His arm tightened around you, a silent vow to protect, to possess, to keep you from any force that might try to tear you from him. Whatever it took, no matter the cost, you would remain his. He would allow no other fate.

A faint, triumphant smile touched his lips as he studied your sleeping face, taking in the softness of your features, the way your hair curled against your cheek. Tonight, he would let himself bask in the satisfaction of knowing you were his, that he had claimed your body and heart as surely as he had marked it.

“Sleep well, my queen,” he whispered, reaching out to brush a stray curl from your brow with uncharacteristic gentleness. His thumb lingered a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek, committing every detail to memory.

“Tomorrow, I take you to your new home.”

HOPE YOU ENJOYED!

[kirkwallsquad]

favorite da2 battle lines in no particular order

i'm listening to a compilation by danaduchy on youtube rn so

literally every fenris line bcs everyone else is YELLING and he's just speaking in his regular quiet-ish voice. king what are you saying i can't HEAR YOU

except for when hawke goes down. THEN he's loudly upset.

"hawke's down! time to panic!" (isabela)

"the tame elf is down" (varric - what the fuck omg don't call fenris that)

"your pet elf has fallen" (carver - WHAT THE FUCK OMG DON'T CALL FENRIS THAT)

"that moody mage is down" (aveline)

"ugh, can someone pick up fenris please?" (merrill)

"isabela's on the ground... appropriately" (aveline - HELLO?!?!?!?)

"merrill! oh, blood mages are so dramatic" (isabela)

"aveline has fallen?" (fenris - why is this a question babe)

"they got whatshisname, the mage" (varric - i continue to believe he doesn't know anders' name until act 3)

"the dwarf has dropped a few more feet" (sebastian)

"dear varric, please learn to parry. love, your innards" (varric)

"do you have something for this, because it hurts" (carver)

"even my teeth hurt" (anders)

"i've got so many bruises now they've got names and families" (merrill)

"ugh, i have dirt in my mouth" (sebastian)

"you're going to let me walk around injured?" (carver)

"being close to death is very bad for my morale" (isabela)

sebastian describes his wounds as "oozing" or "seeping" more than once

"i know dalish are meant to be close to the earth, but we don't mean literally" (merrill)

"i'm alright, who needs kidneys anyway" (isabela)

"hawke. varric. i think this is bad." (merrill)

"stop being you and fix me up" (carver - BABY. BABY BROTHER.)

"that really gets the blood flowing" but also "i will fight and pray for forgiveness later" but also "this is much more exciting than the chantry!" (sebastian - what is wrong with you <3)

"my face is not a shield!" (hawke)

"and they say drinking doesn't solve anything" (isabela)

"haawke i can't mooove" (sebastian)

"i'm too far away, what do you want me to do? shout at them?" (isabela)

"i'd have to fly to reach! of course, i've always wanted to learn to fly" (merrill - she's literally the funniest person ever)

"alas, no" (fenris)

"my faith is my armor! my cause is my shield!" (sebastian)

"if we kill them, we get their stuff!" (isabela)

"andraste's knees, it's like herding cats!" (isabela)

"AFRAID YET?!" (anders)

"RUN! WHILE YOU CAN!" (anders - he's so loud i love him)

"another one for me! how many have you gotten, hawke?" (varric)

"ah. a shame that you're going to die, no?" (fenris)

"you. me. and an audience. that's what this is all about!" (carver)

"may the creators have mercy on you! i certainly won't." (merrill)

"destructive forces of nature, coming up!" (anders)

"suck on a fireball!" (anders)

"NEVER TAUNT A MAGE!!!" (anders)

"a thrust, now a parry" (fenris)

"i'm gonna taunt you in elvish now! durgen'len! aravel! vallaslin!" (merrill)

"hello, i'm merrill, and i'll be your distraction." (merrill)

"I'LL SHOW YOU WHY MAGES ARE FEARED!!!" (anders)

"maker please forgive your children" followed immediately by "DID YOU SEE THAT SHOT" (sebastian)

"WANT TO SEE WHAT'S UNDER THESE ROBES?!?!?!" (anders)

"I'M RIGHT HERE! HIT ME!" (isabela)

"maker, the idiocy" (bethany)

"MAKER BLESS YOUR CHILDREN IN THEIR HOUR OF NEEEED" (sebastian)

"my weapon does nothing??" (fenris - he sounds so puzzled help)

"this is SO not working" (anders)

"if the pointy sticks don't work, try the other pointy sticks" (isabela)

"ah, dear. why doesn't anyone ever want to be nice to us?" (merrill)

"is there an end to the people who hate you?" (aveline)

"looks like we've got a few more puppies to kick" (isabela - HELLO?!?)

"take a step, kill, repeat repeat repeat" (carver)

"the hate you inspire is unfortunate" (fenris)

"another twenty steps, another batch of deaths" (anders)

"nobody seems to like you. do you get used to that?" (merrill - ouch. brutal hskfjhgksdjfhg)

"i can't take credit for all of this. hawke helped a little bit" (isabela)

[joekeeryswife]

Hi I wanted to request Felix and reader getting into a huge fight over rumors of him and India hooking up. Lots of angst that leads to fluff😭 thank youuuu

The party - f.c

hello honeys! first Felix imagine eeek. FELIX DOES NOT DIE AT THE PARTY IN THIS FIC! i’m too excited. i hope you like how i interpreted your request🫶🏼 anyways, i hope you enjoy this imagine! (lmk if i should make a taglist for Felix!)

“Venetia, have you seen Felix? i cannot find him anywhere” you had been looking for Felix everywhere. you had left his side for two seconds to get a drink and when you came back he was no where to be found.

“i saw him with Ollie and i think her name is India? find Ollie, he will know where he is” Venetia said as she scanned the room to see if she could see her brother. you furrowed your brows, India was here? Felix hadn’t told you India was coming.

in the two summers you had grown incredibly close with Venetia, she was the sweetest girl and you were lucky that she was your boyfriends sister. “i’ll keep looking but if you see him, please tell him i’m looking for him” Venetia nodded “of course, don’t worry about India. i didn’t know she was coming either. but good luck okay?” she winked.

the house was huge, one of the biggest houses you’d ever seen and finding him would be nearly impossible without some sort of indication as to where Felix was. you went into the garden eyes darting in every direction seeing if you could see the tall boy anywhere but it was no use, it was like he completely vanished.

“y/n darling, are you okay?” you heard Elspeth say as you huffed, you turned to look at her and nodded slightly. “yeah i’m okay, i’m just looking for Felix is all” she smiled “he couldn’t of gone too far, don’t worry about him. i saw him with Ollie and some girl, maybe check the library? or the maze?” you nodded and thanked her as you started making your way toward the maze.

the maze was where you and Felix liked to go when you wanted some alone time. even though you both loved spending time with his family, sometimes the two of you just wanted to be alone and the maze was the perfect place for the.

as you started making your way through the maze you saw Oliver walking back out. “Ollie thank god, have you seen Felix? i’ve been looking for him everywhere” he jumped when he saw you “y/n, what are you doing here?” his thick accent filling the quiet maze.

“Elspeth told me you’d be in here and she said guy were with Felix. is he down here-” you started to walk down the maze but Oliver quickly stopped you. “y/n you don’t want to go down there” your heart started pounding.

“why?” you looked at him and by the look on your face you knew something was happening. “he invited India here. me and Felix had a fight and the two of them came in here. when i came here to apologise the two of them were hooking up. i’m so sorry”

you felt your eyes fill with tears and your heart dropped. Felix was cheating on you? you knew the two of them had some sort of history before you and Felix got together but that was two years ago. you felt your chin quiver and a few tears slip down your face. just as you were about to walk away Felix and India came round the corner.

Felix saw you and the smile on his face dropped when he saw your face. you had tears rolling down your cheeks, he quickly started making his way toward you but you just shook your head and started walking out of the maze.

“y/n sweetheart what’s the matter?” he called out but it was too late, you’d ran off. Felix was confused, Oliver had been told by his mum that he could invite anyone he wanted so he invited India and a few other girls from college.

he left India standing there to chase after you, he was still utterly confused as to why you were crying. he brushed past Oliver who felt like he had succeeded, he had tricked you into believing that Felix had cheated on you which would no doubt lead to the two of you breaking up which mean Oliver could have Felix all to himself.

he saw you running into the house, brushing past the hundreds of people which filled practically the whole house. Venetia saw you crying and was confused, what could have happened in that short amount of time.

Felix lost you in the crowds of people but spotted his sister and briskly walked toward her. “Venetia, have you seen y/n? she was crying and i need to make sure she’s okay” she frowned “i think she went to your bedroom but i’m not too sure, she went in that direction” by the time she had finished her sentence he was already gone, running off to his bedroom to find you.

he ran up the stairs to his bedroom and put his ear to the door, he could hear your small sobs and his heat broke. he knocked on the door and walked in, seeing you sat on his bed with your suitcase half packed with your belongings. “what’s the matter? why are you packing your stuff?” he frowned.

“i don’t know Felix, why don’t you tell me?” his frown deepened. “don’t act so innocent okay? i know everything. and it’s a shitty move that you brought her here. you have no idea how embarrassing this is” he could control the small smile that formed on his face as he saw your jealousy peak through. he thought maybe you were jealous that India was here, not that he was cheating on you with her.

“what? are you a little jealous?” he smirked “i can’t believe you’re making a joke about this right now. i’m going home” his face fell. he made his way over to you “what happened, i’m sorry for whatever i did” he pouted but you scoffed and rolled your eyes “yeah well i don’t think sorry is gonna cut it this time Felix”

“okay i seriously have no idea what you are on about. why are you so upset” he tried to sit next to you but you scooted away from him. a whole batch of fresh tears filled your eyes, your head fell into your hands as you tried to hide how hurt you were. “come on baby, talk to me” he placed his hand on your leg and stroked it gently.

“don’t call me that, not after what you did” you pushed his hand away from you as a few tears fell. “what did i do? you’re confusing me” you looked at him with bloodshot eyes “you slept with India.” he looked at you and burst out laughing “what?” you wiped your tear stained cheeks which probably had mascara all over them.

“Oliver told me that you invited India here and that you two slept together. this isn’t funny Felix, i’m serious. i’m going home tomorrow” you sniffled and he shook his head “Oliver told you that? and you believed him?” you shrugged “well, the two of you looked very friendly when you came walking around the corner so yeah i believed it”

“that is the silliest thing i’ve ever heard. i would never ever do that to you.” he placed his hand on your cheeks and placed a delicate kiss on your lips. “i’m too in love with you to cheat on you” he kissed you again.

“why did Oliver say that? he said that you invited India and that he went into the maze to find you to apologise because you two argued and then he said that you two were having sex” Felix frowned “what? having sex in the maze? no that’s not what happened at all” he shook his head.

“Oliver invited India and he got mad because she rejected him, we argued because i told him to not invite her and he did it anyway. i knew her being there would upset you. i was only being nice to her because her friends left her” he explained, his hands falling from your cheeks.

“i’m sorry i was so mean to you” he shook his head “im sorry that i laughed at you, i honestly thought it was just because you were jealous i didn’t realise Oliver told you that. ill speak to my parents, see if they can get rid of him early” he smiled.

“you know i love you, don’t you?” his eyes started into yours, he hated that you were hurting. you nodded “i love you too” he kissed you passionately.

[reveluving]

Hello how are you? 😊 I have something in mind for the movie triple frontier 

Like imagine Ben Miller x girlfriend shy reader and both your infant son is a mommy boy, waiting Ben after the MMA fights, being both his good luck charms

a/n: Baby, I've been busy. But overall? Pretty swell, thank you for asking! And this ask? A Benny ask with a shy!reader? With a child??? FAWK, it made my entire WEEK(S), so I cannot thank you enough! 😭❤️ Hope you don't mind me making them husband & wife instead, and take care!

warnings: lovestruck benny, fluffy family-focused, brief mma-level violence & explicit language!

» fancy reading another triple frontier fic? check out the m.list!

“Alright, alright, make way, comin’ through.” Frankie demanded, with him on the left and Santiago on the right as they kept you in the middle.

The two stayed vigilant, ensuring no one was close enough to bump into you, let alone your bundle of joy slung to your chest. When one did stand too close, despite accidentally, Santiago hissed, “Watch it.”

You chuckled, already used to their rugged behaviour because it was all to keep you unharmed.

Completely unharmed.

Despite the curious eyes that weighed on you, yours remained on his—Bubba’s, rubbing his back and making silly faces at him, with him none the wiser of anything beyond his mother’s presence, given the baby earmuffs on him. Instead, he reacted to your attention excitedly, displaying his gummy smile.

Will was already at the front row seats when you arrived, giving you a side hug and asking you about your and Bubba’s wellbeing like the protective brother-in-law he was.

“Hey, lil’ man, you hangin’ in there?” Will smiled at his nephew. Despite the earmuffs, he immediately recognized his uncle and squirmed against your chest, gurgling. Will, letting out a deep and hearty laugh, gently ruffled Bubba’s baby hair before offering to hold him, “C’mon.”

You loosened the carrier, and Will took Bubba into his arms, and as if on cue, in came the boisterous announcement on the microphone, “I bring you, Ben Miller!”

Many cheered, some booed, but you? You just couldn’t wipe the lovestruck smile on your face, watching him enter the arena, carrying himself with sheer confidence that whether one was a fan or not, they couldn’t deny the aura he exuded. 

If anything, Benny basked in the jeers, because his wins, many in a row, said it all. Plus, he was the lucky son of a gun blessed with a wife to die for, a son he couldn’t be any prouder of, and the best ride-or-die group in his circle. He couldn’t ask for more than that.

He looked past the crowd’s outstretched hands for taps and middle fingers of his rivals’ fans, searching for the eyes that would hold so much love for him, like he had hung the moon for her—for you—which he found amusing because he would stare at you the same way, though, bolder than your bashfulness could muster.

It wouldn’t take long to find you, kudos to his brother for saving the front-row seats way earlier, and he made sure to keep his eyes on you as he took off his shirt. Tossing the fabric onto the seats near you, he immediately pulled you into his chest, his smile widening upon watching a shy one gracing your lips, even more so as the spectators whooped at the mushy display.

He greeted you with that flirty tone of his, “You taken, pretty girl?”

Benny’s smile morphed into a grin, pumped up like the tournament was nothing more than another typical Tuesday to conquer and bring home victory to his beloved family. 

The uncontrollable bundle of excitement in his brother’s arms caught his eye, and Benny was quick to scoop his son into his arms. 

Benny couldn't be any happier, being in his element with the people he truly cared for. With his son in one arm, the other around you. He let Bubba tap his little pudgy hands on his stubbled face, his babbles of ‘ma ma ma’ soothing like a balm, before kissing his forehead, then turned his attention to you.

“Watch me.” He whispered in your ear.

“Always.” You replied, kissing his cheek, and Benny quickly closed the gap between you for a kiss. Benny, with his bulky boxing glove, had the courtesy to block the view of where your lips touched from the crowd, giving you some sense of privacy, despite the knowing cheers from the onlookers.

He couldn't help with his own amusement, seeing you press your face into his shoulder before planting a little kiss on his son's forehead, and just like that, his good luck charm, despite already being activated from the moment you walked in with Bubba, was now cranked to the max.

Ever the charmer, Benny flexed his muscles for you, even as he ascended the steps and into the cage backwards, and even then, even as he faced his rival, the smile never left his face. Just more… evil. More sinister, like he had already seen the outcome of the fight, and as he delivered the first sharp swing, Benny knew, like usual, his good luck charm has never, and will never fail him.

His focus only strayed during the one-minute breaks, looking over to see you holding Bubba, his little tiger, giving him reassuring smiles and mouthing ‘I love you’s and ‘you can do it’s, and he believed you. 

He always does.

And Bubba? Oh, Bubba, watching the little man bounce on your lap like there was no tomorrow, not only having his sweet mother holding him close but also watching his father being cool. Who cares about a bunch of guys heckling him beyond the cage when he had his son’s support?

Before he knew it, with determination coursing through his veins, plus his rival’s attempts to embarrass him for being a softie before the fight rang in his head, the announcer hailed Benny as the winner and raised his arm, prompting the spectators to go wild the same way they did when he knocked his opponent out. 

And even with his weary muscles and bones, he sought after you, just like you did him, Carelessly throwing the towel he used to wipe his sweat to the side to meet you in the middle for a kiss. He sighed as he pulled you against him, only breaking the kiss when Frankie and Pope approached, plus Will with Bubba before passing him to his brother.

Bubba giggled as Benny rubbed his forehead against his, then made grabby hands for you. Benny chuckled, “Always wants his mama, just like his old man.”

You smiled warmly, picking Bubba up before snuggling into your husband’s side and partially hiding from the crowd, “Clingy boys.”

“Your clingy boys.” He corrected with a grin before leaning in for another kiss.

Benny could have all the wins he could want, if and only if he did it all for you.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: I enjoyed making this so, so, so, so damn much, it only took me a day HEHE! Don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

[beansprean]

E11 Ideas in no particular order:

Simon the Devious rug pull/reveal

Simon the Devious was behind the documentary all along. He is Greg the camera guy. The documentary was produced by the Daltry Brothers Production Company with thanks to the Toby Daltry Memorial Film Foundation

Outrageous nandermo flirting throughout

Nandermo secret off-camera relationship (we already have canon nandermo QPR I just wanna remind everyone Guillermo is officially in the polycule)

We find out via tv news in the background that Jordan got hit with that sign Nandor threw and he died (no one cares bc they are doing more interesting things)

Nandermo get served by the local Staten Island Chapter of Vampire Vigilantes for operating as superheroes without a permit

"Clip show" where they all watch the documentary

"Clip show" where they all watch the documentary and its full of 'deleted' scenes that we have never seen before (leading to revealed secrets and arguments and confessions and-)

1 hour special that is literally the documentary (with a special guest narrator)

The Guide x Miguel I am so serious

The entire episode is just a backdoor pilot for a spinoff series (seanmaine sitcom?) (life as cravensworth's robinson's monster?)

The house blows up/is destroyed somehow

Colin, as part of the house based on my own personal EV lore, dies or nearly dies bc of this. They get a new house and bury him there and then he pops back up babystyled and the monster has to be his dad now

The monster sacrifices himself to save his dads (noooo!!!!!!!!)

Last scene all the vampires are going into the fancy room to have an orgy and Nandor pokes his head out to say 'arent you coming Guillermo?' and he grins and shrugs at the camera and goes in and thats how it ends

Jenna was there The Whole Time (please god it would be so funny i will die on this hill)

Guillermo dies and Nandor has to turn him anyway

Guillermo dies and Nandor tries to turn him but apparently thats how energy vamps are made whoopsie

Laszlo says "Guillermo" correctly

Red carpet premiere of the documentary with all the fan favorite characters returning as guests

(maybe even including the two Freddies bc it would be very funny. Nandor getting jealous like excuse me step away from Guillermo you had your chance and Freddie is like oh sorry no I'm the other Freddie and Nandor is like o rly hello and Guillermo is like exCUSE ME STEP AWA-)

Red carpet premiere of the documentary with all the fan favorite characters returning as guests that turns out to be a trap set by the Vampiric Council and they all have to fight their way out of that shit again

Red carpet premiere of the documentary that turns out to be a trap set by Batdor and Robllermo to murder a bunch of rich people

Nadja starts an mlm foot pic empire with the monster as her bouncer (dressed in a cute little pimp suit and feathered hat)

Somehow, the Witch's Skin Hat has returned

Guillermo returns to his pre-corporate color palette (greens and browns and reds and patterns pls!!) but its well fitted and non shitty sweaters

All the ghosts of all the people they ever killed/buried at the house rise up and attack (including lisa's severed head), and this somehow leads to Dolly finishing her unfinished business and saying goodbye

The Guide is proud and relieved to see that Nandor is no longer obsessed with her and they are buddies now

She insinuates that he found what he was looking for (in Guillermo). sometimes you hurt every woman in your life because your soulmate is a man

Sean dies (noooooo!!!!!!!!)

Sean gets turned into a vampire

Sean gets turned into a vampire and immediately breaks every rule and also turns Charmaine and somehow manages to take over the entire eastern seaboard and overthrow Tilda Swinton as supreme leader of the Vampiric Council

MAJOR timeskip, like multiple years or even decades. 10 year retrospective post-documentary release?

They recreate the supernatural finale beat for beat, complete with colin in a very bad wig and two covers of "you're dead" back to back to fill up the runtime

Vampire society rises up against the house after the documentary is released and they all die

[allthornsnopetals]

You are a Fool E.Bridergton

Description: "I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you." Oh, how the times have changed since, Y/n last exchanged words with Eloise. Perhaps, now Eloise wished to kiss the young lady as Suitors sweep the beauty off her feet.

Warning: 18+ content

Y/n rolls her eyes at the sight of her family home, wishing to be back in Paris, sipping wine and indulging in their fruity society. But she had been summoned home after years receiving education in the city of love, and flamboyance. The season is soon to begin and she were to be wed, and soon, God help the man to court Lady Delacour, and her spicy tastes may.

She grimaced, entering the familiar abode, shouldering off her cloak, and handing it to the servant.

"Y/n, how it is good to finally see you again. I see a young Lady had blossomed, let me get a better look at you." Said Edger, Y/n's eldest brother and heir to the Delacour dynasty, his arms stretched out, waiting for them to be filled.

Y/n grinned, gliding with haste to fill her brother's arms. "It is good to finally have you home!" Another familiar voice, male, called, joining the embrace.

"Hello to you, too, Evon." She chuckles, fighting for air as another and another joins the already crowded hug.

"Hamish, you're poking me." Harwin growls, jabbing his twin brother in the rib.

Due to their fighting, the elder siblings broke a part, all but one watching with amusement. "Stop it! Or I'll knock the sense out of you both, no questions asked!" Edger scolds, pointing his finger in their faces, hunched over like he were their mother.

The boys were two years younger compared to Y/n, but they had grown into young men, taller, too. But still, they beaker, unable to control themselves, even now, seconds after she had returned home. Some things just do not change.

Y/n is the second youngest with two elder brothers and two younger ones, all without a sister for almost eleven years, until now as the season of the debutantes begins, calling for the remaining Lady to be courted. She were not the only woman, for a while, that is. Her mother had kept their family in company for most of Y/n's youth, that was until her passing: childbirth, a scary and terrifying way to die, but it took her final breaths and the opportunity for another sister.

Her passing had driven her family into the dark days, she called it. The days of morning, that drew into months and almost a year before her father had sent her away, unable to bear the face that held his late-wife. Sent away for ten years, until she were eligible for marriage. Any remaining rough edges, had been smoothed over, replaced with rounder, softer and smoother ones, instead.

She were a wild one, even before the passing of her mother. Being sent away surely did her some good, if it also didn't make her miss the french and their stunning cities. Men and women were open about their desires, and encouraged others to indulge in the simplest lust or flame, man or woman, thin or thick, white or black. France is the place of love in different fonts and shapes, Y/n took it a little too literally, with her eyes wandering over from men to women, from women to men.

White, black, she ate. Heavy or light, she ate. Men or women, she ate! French men had a talent of mouth and hands, they preferred head or a work of a gentle hand, oh and how they were talented, or obsessed with ass. The men Y/n spread her wings for, always went for head, fingers, or anal, which she finds divine. The women... Oh Y/n doesn't know where to begin, they were skilled with finding the pleasure of their sexual partner, and always aroused some unknown kink.

But now, she were home and a dinner party is to be held in her return, all close to her family is to attend, and Y/n is to get ready.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Not, too tight, is it?" Asked Daisy, your hand maiden, tightening Y/n's corset. She made a small attempt to smile.

"Is my waist, not slim enough?" She asks instead of replying to her question. Daisy simply nods, loosening the reins of the fabric.

A shaky breath of short relief slips past her lips, her eyes closing with a hand smoothing over her stomach, glad the presser had subsided. Y/n had never been one for corsets, always finding them ridiculous, like a certain someone, whom her cheeks still burn for: Eloise Bridergtion, the first person to ever reject a simple peck to the cheek.

"I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you."

She grinned at the last and final memory she shared with her, so young and sure both girls and boys had cooties. Eloise allowed no one, not even her own papa to kiss her cheek or hold her hand. She was so paranoid, she wore gloves to prevent some sort of plague, she were sure it was real.

"Emerald green or sapphire blue." Daisy said, allowing Y/n to peer inside the two containers.

She wondered for some time, biting her lip as she thought. "I have jewels that would look fabulous with the blue gown," She says, gliding her fingers over the fabric. "Sapphire blue, please."

After a few moments, she was ready. Her hair flowed freely, decorated with blue flowers as a half crown. A wide diamond necklace, rounder her neck with pearl sized sapphires clipped to her ears. Daisy worked at staining her lips a shade of cherry wine before tinting her cheeks with peach blush. Lastly her slippers slipped on her feet with a dab of floral perfume on her neck, wrists and jaw.

"Your thoughts, ma'am." Said Daisy, allowing Y/n to admire her work in the vanity mirror.

"Wonderful as always. Come for me when the party begins."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Stop fiddling, you look like a fool." Violet hissed, forcing Eloise to stand up straight and still, for the most part.

"She is nervous, mama. She hasn't seen Y/n for many years, afraid she might not recognize her." Said Daphne, sipping her sparkly liquid, sure to be alcohol.

Eloise stuck her tongue out, not even trying to hide her immature behavior. "Am not. I am perfectly well, just a bit sweaty that is." She jeered, chugging a glass of liquid courage.

Of course she were nervous, jumping on the balls of her feet with anxiety. She has not seen her dear friend, Y/n for ten years, and still she wished to have allowed her to peck her cheek, goodbye. Perhaps, then she would have had a fond memory and not one filled with tears, and anger. Eloise was more than angry to see her leave, and even depressed at not snagging herself a kiss, even if it were an innocent peck on the cheek. She would have cherished it, like her books. She thought of her everyday, staring out the window, hoping to see Y/n walk to steps to her door, but that hope was just that: hope. She thought herself foolish for some time, that was until the invention to the Delacour Mansion arrived, speaking of a welcome home ball for the only daughter, Y/n Eliza Delacour.

Eloise near fainted. She were to see her friend again! To hear her voice again! To finally fill the duo to a trio, once more: her, Pen and Y/n. The golden girls back together again.

But even with such electricity, it were hard on Eloise to not pick up her skirts and run for the hills, and dunk her head in a bucket of cold ice water. For her thoughts have always been far from platonic for Lady Y/n, a girl she wished to have shared a kiss with before her departure, regretting her poorly chosen words.

"I'd rather lose an eye than kiss you."

Eloise still remembered the hot tears streaming down her cheeks, as if it were yesterday, the guilt still so fresh. She was sure she had lost a friend.

"Well, she's right there. If you are so clear minded, go say hello to her." Daphne stepped aside, allowing Eloise to a route to Y/n.

"Righty then, I will." She huffed, sticking up her nose, and marching off.

Oh what the fuck! She thought gliding her way towards Y/n, dodging bodies and frantic house guests, all bubbling with the return of the sapphire of House Delacour.

As she drew closer, the more frightened Eloise became, terror eating at her. Completely ignore Hyacinth, thundering towards her with Gregory hot on her toes. It was far too late, she was already pooling forward, her arms outstretched, lips releasing a gasp.

But the impact to the hard cool floor did not come, she lay comfortably in a set of arms, holding her steadily, combing back runaway hair. "El?" Her stomach churned, the voice so familiar her stomach had a wakened.

Eloise's throat ran dry and tight, her eyes meeting the gaze of her old friend, her cheeks burning with an embarrassed grin, curving her lips. Y/n steered a sound of surprise and excitement, pulling her into her arms.

"It is you! Thank goodness! I almost didn't recognize you. I missed you and Pen. Talking about Pen, where is she?" Y/n mutters, her breath fanning Eloise's ear.

Eloise swallows hard.

I almost didn't recognize you.

Perhaps, she did fear that Y/n would be unable to identify her, thinking she had forgotten the way she looked. But that fear slowly faded as she sank into her arms, taking in her scent with a sharp breath: Oranges, lemons and pomegranates. Oh, how she missed her. She held onto for a moment longer, until the thought of Penelope whisked her mind.

Pulling a part, Eloise avoided Y/n's gaze. As if she knew something were wrong Y/n guided both her and Eloise to the library, where no one was allowed in, making sure to shut the door behind them.

"Ellie, what happened when I was away? Why is Pen not by your side?" Once the words were out, she felt a fool for asking such things.

"There was a falling out." Said Y/n, now knowing why the two peas were not together.

Eloise bit back a tear, nodding in clarification. Y/n sighed, taking her place in her arms, stroking her hair, pulling out built up tears that welled up inside her. No golden girls, after all.

She wept, holding her so tightly, it could break Y/n ribs.

"Tell me what happened." Y/n sat them both down at the cushioned love seat near the back, hidden from anyone who were to burst in.

Eloise sniffled, her hand held into hers, a smile gracing her lips. "You were always the nurse, always caring about us before yourself. Always patching us up with gentle hands and warm arms, never taking a moment peace for yourself." She laughs wetly, wiping her tears with the back of her gloved hand.

Y/n tsk's, swatting her hand from her face, wanting her not to ruin her make up, wiping her salty river away with her finger tips, their gaze finding one another. "Don't, you'll ruin your gloves." She pulls the fabric from Eloise's hands, placing them on the small coffee table, rolling her thumb over her open palm, an old habit, too good for her to ridden.

Eloise shook her head. "No, just tell me everything about Paris and your travels. I want to know. You must have had the best time." She forced a smile, squeezing Y/n's hands, wanting to change the subject.

"Only if you inform me of what happened." Her tone was cool, almost demanding, Eloise didn't recognize the woman in front of her. Couldn't decipher who she was, yes she looked the same—almost, if it weren't for the sudden bloom of her breasts—and even acted the same, with habits she still lingered with and nature she has long but permanently made one with herself. But she were all grown up now, mature and knowing, bold and daring with her tone, her chin held high, eyes leveled and commanding.

Her heart gave a giddy squeeze, if she were to stare at her any longer, Eloise would spill all her secrets. But not tonight, only for tonight she were to explain the happenings between her and Penelope.

She began with her interest in the unmasking of Lady Whistledown, from there everything progressively got worse and impossibly worse, that Y/n had rang for tea, biscuits and all sorts of sweets, sucked away from her own ball, too invested of what she were hearing. Eloise paused, gulping as if she were nervous for the following words.

"If I don't unmask this anonymous author, everyone in town would know... They'll know that I'm," She chokes, head buried in Y/n's lap, soothed by her elegant lull, her fingers combing through her hair. "Say, no more. Pen thinks it unwise to identify, Lady Whistledown. And she won't help it's sim-

"No! I know she is Lady Whistledown— I feel it in my bones and she will ruin me if everyone knew," She lashes out of her lap, tears streaming down her face. "Knew what?" Y/n coaxes her back into her, wiping her tears away, staring down at her.

Eloise sniffles, choking, blowing her nose in a handkerchief. "If everyone knew I were lesbian. Y/n it will ruin my family, greatly."

Silence followed, Y/n frozen, staring down with her eyes agape. Eloise swallowed harshly, fear running through her. Before she could say anything, Y/n was already moving, standing, and beginning to pace, warming herself near the fire.

"Times have really never changed, here?" Y/n gaped, panic rising in her like a forest fire. "Anyone identified as queer would be ruined, even their families... I should have never returned, I should have stayed in Paris, be free to be who I wished. Eloise, would Lady Whistledown, target anyone with queer traits."

"It's Lady Whistledown, what do you think?"

"Noooo, I need to pack and leave. Run back to Paris. Fake my death?" Y/n was beginning to sound crazy to Eloise.

Why is she panicking? Unless... "You're queer..." It sounded more like a question than a statement. Y/n stomps over to her hastily, cupping her hand over her lips, hovering over her, pressing her into the cushions.

"Must you speak so loudly. And if you must know, I'm bisexual. I have been aware of my fruity tastes for a long while, even far before my trip to Paris, only there did I explode myself, if you understand what I mean." She was so close, Eloise could smell her, her scent so intoxicating.

She slowly, slid her palm away, rolling her thumb over her lips, almost relishing in the feeling. "Tell no one." Her voice, smooth and oddly sweet, in her ears.

"Tell, no one got it." Eloise nods, cheeks burning a vibrant pink. "You're blushing. El, do I make you blush?" Y/n grins, leaning closer, her breath tickling her lips.

Her breathing rose, strangling Eloise, realizing if she to move, even in the slightest her lips would meet Y/n's.

Kiss me, god just kiss me. Release me of this burden.

With no answer, Y/n lent into her shoulder, snatching the exposed skin between her lips, bodies pressed together.

"Would, you rather lose an eye than kiss me." Said Y/n, her words passing through Eloise's skin.

Eloise sucked air into her lungs, tilting Y/n's chin, her eyes meeting hers. "I did not mean what I said then. I wanted you to kiss me, take me with you, be with you. Y/n I have hungered for you, for so long," She paused, gaze taking in every detail of the beauty in her view.

"I feared you'll never return, and I'll starve without you. You're my water and my meal, I'll go parch and go hungry without you. No, I'd rather not lose an eye than kiss you." Her words hung in the gap, so true, it made Y/n's heart dance.

Without another word, she dragged her chin, her lips meeting Y/n's. Eloise moaned, fire bubbling in her stomach, a whizzing boom going off in her ears. Fireworks, booming in the distance, sparks flying. She has been waiting for this, waiting for the right kiss, and this was it. In its gentleness something exciting happened, life.

She couldn't stop the smile, glad she had chosen to keep both her eyes and kiss the girl she has been starving for, for so long. "What are you smiling about?" Asked Y/n, breaking the kiss and grinning down at her.

"Nothing, truly." Eloise giggled, thumb grazing Y/n's lips. "Kiss me again." She orders, pulling Y/n back down, slamming her lips against hers.

Hers hands wander down her back, groping Y/n's ass, rewarding her a gasp, allowing a way past her lips.

Y/n straightens herself up, gasping for air, Eloise's hands gripping her hips. "Have you had sex with a woman before?" Eloise's eyes widened, her lips plump and red. "No... Not at all."

"Have you touched yourself." Y/n removed her gloves, tossing them aside, undoing her dress. "Yes, I have." She grinned, pulling her dress over her head.

"Do you wish to have sex?" She asked, stiffing a laugh at Eloise's reaction to her almost bare body.

She didn't say a word, but nodded frantically, working on her own dress, sitting up to allow Y/n to pull it off her. Once removed, their lips met again, a bit sloppily but Eloise wasn't really taking her time, to high on the moment.

Eloise desperately worked at Y/n's corset, wanting it off as Y/n took her time, knowing the thread of corset with her eyes closed. "Slow down, El. I'm going nowhere." She pants against her lips, noting her lids were already lust shot.

"Calm yourself." She tosses her corset before doing the same to Eloise's. Chest bare for only a minute, before Eloise latches her lips to her left nipple, sucking and licking with her right accompanied by her hand, kneading the flesh.

Rolling her eyes back, her head slowly fell back, moans spilling from her lips. Her hand lingered past her panties, fingers passing her folds, working at her pussy, fucking herself. Biting on her lip, she focuses on pleasing herself, rolling her hips in her own hand, mouth agape. Eloise detaches herself from her breasts, allowing her to fall back, watching her fuck herself, legs spread, gaze locked on hers.

"Come here."

She listens and crawls over to her, watching Y/n remove her digest from her cunt, wet and glossy. "Open," She orders, satisfied as Eloise takes her fingers into her mouth, moaning and sucking on them. "Drink me." She coos, pulling Eloise closer, pulling both their panties off, lining their cunts together before dragging her fingers out of her mouth.

"Grind your pretty little cunt on mine, it will make you feel good." She did not have to do much convincing, for it only took Eloise but a moment to adjust herself, starting to rock her hips.

"Like that?" She asks, moving slowly. "Just a bit to the le-"

She threw her head back, Eloise resting her head on her shoulder, moaning as she gripped her ass, speeding up her pace. Y/n held her close, rocking her hips against hers, rubbing their sex together, in a tangle of limbs. Humping harder and harder, Eloise was cutting it close to the edge but Y/n was just getting started, if the two were to both wish to orgasm tonight, it will be a long night indeed.

[urrockstar-xe]

precious - j.m x fem!reader

posted nov 27th, 2023 8:14 am

anon asked: hello!! I’m a sucker for a little angst ending with fluff, so could you maybe write a jj maybank x girlfriend where they have a fight right before bed and he goes to sleep on the couch but they can’t sleep without each other/being mad at each other so one of them goes to the other to apologize?

sorry for the wait love :( I hope you enjoy it.

masterlist

wordcount: 0.9k

“It’s like you never learn JJ!” your voice rang in his ears in a similar fashion as his rang through yours

“Learn what, Y/n? That I’m gonna die young anyway? It wasn’t even that fucking bad!” and if this were a cartoon the words would be coming right back out as steam. 

“It’s not like I haven’t done worse alright?” JJ added, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. “It’s not about that JJ! You could’ve died! I need you around!” It was as if he totally skipped over your last four words as he scoffed, “I get it, I’m an idiot who doesn’t know better are you fuckin done yet? Actually, fuck this, I’m sleeping at JB’s” JJ grabbed his backpack on his way out of your house, not missing your calls for him just ignoring them, as he hopped onto his bike and left your sight in what felt like seconds. 

You didn’t try to conceal the frustration and hurt you felt, all of it spilling out in angry sobs and violent strings of swear words. 

The same stupid argument always stumped you and JJ, no matter how many short apologies and tears you guys go through, the argument of how precious JJ’s life was always took the cake for the biggest challenge in your relationship. 

Yet you still worried about how high he’d get tonight or how much of John B’s beer he’d drink and how safe he’d be even if John B’s was merely a 7-minute walk from yours, you always worried about JJ.

How could you not when he was as reckless as he was? 

A few hours went by of pacing your room, checking your phone for “baby, I love you” apology texts, and pretending not to realize the worried gaze your older brother gave you whenever you left your room to use the restroom, before you realized it was 1 in the morning and you still hadn’t been able to go to sleep, despite having woken up at 6 am for work the previous day. 

With a heavy sigh and eye roll at the realization that you’d have the give in first, you got up, throwing on one of JJ’s old jackets he left and your shoes before leaving out your front door in a rush and practically running to John B’s having memorized the way there.

You accepted the curse of not being able to sleep without JJ by your side and when a half-asleep John B opened his door, you knew he had heard an earful as he let you inside wordlessly, “he’s out back” John B motioned towards the back door, giving you a nod as a silent good luck before moving back to his room. 

You made your way to the back door, hesitating momentarily before grabbing the doorknob and opening it, making your way back out into the cold. You were almost instantly met with the beautiful sight of your boyfriend, lying on the hammock and watching the stars, mindlessly playing with his lighter. 

You wordlessly made your way to him, both you and JJ ignoring the sound of the grass under your sneakers until you sat down on the edge of one of the old lawn chairs, hugging your legs to your chest in an attempt to find warmth. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asked barely above a whisper, a stark contrast to his usual tone. 

“Not without you” You responded, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding when JJ finally looked in your direction. “Me too” 

“I know” he nodded at your words, of course, you knew. 

“C’mere, pretty baby,” JJ said, his voice quiet, tossing his lighter somewhere in the dirt, pretending he wouldn’t have to find it tomorrow. You stood up, almost too fast for your liking before settling into the hammock next to him, gravity pushing you into his side and his arm falling around you seamlessly, or at least you told yourself it was gravity. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you” You whispered into his shoulder, pressing kisses into the fabric of his hoodie, all of your stubbornness flying out the window once his familiar scent filled your nose.

“I’m sorry I yelled back, and for being an idiot” JJ whispered, breathing as if he was trying to learn how. “You’re not an idiot, J” Your fingers instinctively played with the drawstrings of his neck, unknowingly bringing a sense of comfort to your boyfriend. 

“I just,” you sighed before continuing, cursing at yourself for how you teared up. “I just wish you realized how precious you are to me” You whispered, barely audible. 

But JJ heard it clear as day. 

“I’m sorry-” He started but you cut him off, “You can’t be sorry for something like that, you weren’t taught any better.” You choked out, not missing the way his lips found your hair when he realized you were crying, comforting kisses hitting your hairline. 

“If I could go back in time and teach you how much you were worth I would in a heartbeat” Your words made JJ pause his actions, his arm tightening ever so slightly around you. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, JJ” You shrugged as much as you could without disrupting the hug. 

“Can’t even sleep without you” You mumbled through a quiet laugh, earning one in return from JJ, alongside a few sniffles. 

“We’re good right?” he asked quietly, gently running his fingers up and down your arm. 

“As if this would be the thing that makes us break” I scoff, earning another laugh. 

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed before JJ spoke once more, “Can we go inside? Freezin’ my balls off out here”

[obxsummer]

mess // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: groff gets grounded, sarah's wifey material, and a statue apparently holds the blue crown, which means someone's climbing to get it.

warnings: usual obx angst

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything

--

Morocco was proving to stay a challenge to you all, especially when the vehicle’s motor blew up on Cleo and the poor girl was stuck attempting to fix it. In the meantime, Pope was observing the items John B and Sarah had managed to pull from Terrance’s boat in their quick mission. 

While JJ attempted to help Cleo get the truck started again, John B and Sarah were browsing at nearby booths. This left you and Kie to take the time to chill out and just observe the people around you. 

What your fiancé had begrudgingly revealed to you, was he pickpocketed the gun the mercenary had dropped and it was now tucked in his waistband, clearly visible against the light colored fabric. You had rolled your eyes, but didn’t bother to argue with him. You were all unarmed, in his defense, so it wouldn’t hurt to have some way to fight back.

“John B, I’m tired of driving. Take the wheel.” Cleo waved dismissively as she climbed into a seat next to Sarah, allowing your brother and Pope to take the front.. 

The next location, Agapenta, was supposedly where you’d find some answers. The drive would take a while, a lovely 60 miles of hopefully peace and quiet. JJ happily accepted the empty time, letting you rest against his shoulder as the wind whipped around you all. The ride was as smooth as John B could make it, the road proving itself bumpty and full of twists and turns. 

Eventually, pavement turned into dirt and Pope was pointing out a nearby well to refill water bottles and take a break to stretch. You groaned as the vehicle came to a stop and climbed out, your legs sore from sitting so scrunched together for the time being. 

“Pope, I really hope you’re right about this well,” John B said as he rolled his neck, a popping sound following the movement and he sighed. 

JJ reached up to help you climb down, the dirt hard and dry beneath your feet. You opened your backpack, shuffling through the mess to grab the empty water bottles you’d brought from Poguelandia to pair with the larger ones they’d bought at the market. 

“How does this thing even work?” You asked Pope as you walked toward the well with the various bottles in your arms. “Like is there a pump or-”

“Hello!”

Pope grabbed your arm to pull you back from approaching the stones. The shouting continued in a language you couldn’t quite recognize before you all decided to look down the well at the same time. 

“I guess we found Groff, huh?”

Bile burned your throat as you took a step back from the dark pit in the ground. JJ was standing a few feet away with a tan back in his hands, the contents inside likely belonging to the man stuck at the bottom of the well.

You wondered how he didn’t die from the fall, silently pissed that outside forces couldn’t have just ended this nightmare on your behalf. Because now, there was a decision to make that ultimately landed in JJ’s hands.

JJ gently squeezed your shoulder as he approached the well, a silent communication that he could do it. He looked utterly pissed and disappointed with the realization that he was really the only one to handle the situation, but leaned over the edge to address Groff.

“JJ, is that you?” The voice echoed back.

JJ sighed and looked straight ahead, completely dismissing the man in the well. “What happened?”

“I’m trapped down here because of that… Rafe.”

You snorted, pressing the back of your hand against your mouth to keep your laughter in as Sarah nearly broke her character next to you with a laugh. Leave it to Rafe to shove Groff in a literal well. 

“But now, my boy, my beautiful boy, is here to rescue me.”

That one got a full giggle out of Kiara, and JJ looked at all of you with an unamused look. Annoyance was winning its course here, and really, now you wanted to leave.

“What happened to the scroll?” JJ asked as he played with the flask of water in his hands. 

“Rafe! He took it and he tried to kill me, but I know where it is. I know how to get it back. We’ll go. We’ll go together, just… just throw me the rope!”

The blond boy stepped back from the view of the well, which evidently scared Groff enough that he started yelling again. You stepped away from Sarah and Kie to grab his arm, scanning his face for any hint of how he was feeling.

“You okay?”

To your surprise, JJ’s eyes were full of tears when he looked back at you and he looked angry. “He almost killed you. And now he’s sitting here asking me to help him?” 

The broken whisper felt like a punch to the chest and your fingers unconsciously brushed over where the bruises rested on your skin. You’d support JJ through a lot of rights and wrongs, but this had to be the hardest one. 

You’d come to hate very few people in your life, but Groff was the quickest one to reach that status. He was cruel. There were very few people that were wicked in that way, deep to their core, but he was a perfect example of one. Heartless, even.

JJ sighed, drying away stray tears with the back of his hand. You let your hand coast up his arm to rest on his neck, gently brushing the skin of his cheek with your thumb. “It’s okay. It’s your call.”

He shook his head harshly and stepped out of your grasp to approach the well again as Groff yelled out for him to toss the rope down. JJ picked up the twine with consideration and your heart felt like it was in your throat. 

“JJ, I need you to throw me the rope!”

“Why?” JJ countered as he stared at the object intently. “Why should I do that when you tried to kill not only me, but someone you knew meant the world to me? To us.”

There was a pause before the answer. “I snapped. Sorry.”

John B let out a loud laugh at that one, his head falling back against the seat of the truck before his hand rubbed at his face in disbelief.

“Just get me out of here, JJ, and we will get the crown. Together, just like we planned.”

“You gave me away. You gave me away because you don’t want me. You don’t want a son. Now you come back into my life acting like you had to do that.” 

“No of course not. You’re my boy, I love you.”

JJ reached back with an open palm and you took it wordlessly, making sure to stay out of Groff’s view but close enough that JJ knew you were right behind him. “No.. don’t, don’t say that. You don’t know what that means. You don’t even know me. You never were my father. You never even tried.”

“I’m a weak man, JJ. You wouldn’t kill me for that, would you? That’s not you. You’re better than me.”

JJ scoffed and shook his head before holding the rope out to you, which you took albeit confused. You watched as he untied it from the post next to the well, leaving it disconnected from any anchor point. “Being better than you really isn’t that hard. Bye, Dad.”

Without sparing a glance, JJ took a step back from the well to walk away and you stood there as Groff started yelling in protest for him to come back. You glanced back to make sure he was okay, Pope taking the time to hug him tightly, before you made your own decision.

Peeking over the edge of the well, you could barely make out Groff’s figure at the bottom and his voice was suddenly much louder until he stopped at the sight of you.

“Remember me? Daughter you never had but always wanted?” You asked, a teasing smirk making its way to your lips. Pulling the rope closer, you let it fall from your fingers and watched the saving grace hit the ground with a loud smack as Groff winced. 

With a look of disappointment, you sighed to yourself, “You made your bed, now you can lie in it too.”

--

“Careful, we don’t know what we’re walking into.” John B was tense and on guard as he led the group from the car when the path came to an end. Desert stretched out in front of you all, save for a few bare plants that shifted with the wind.

As you all approached the walled entrance to Agapenta, Rafe’s voice carried across the open land. 

“Okay, just take it easy, okay?” The stress in his tone was obvious enough that JJ was pushing against your shoulder to keep you out of view as they surveyed whatever was going on ahead. 

Peeking through the brush, you made out Rafe’s figure with the map dangling from one hand and the lens from the other. His back was toward you all as he spoke with whoever was threatening him as he held his arms in the air. There was just enough room over the makeshift wall that you could make out the mercenary group with their vehicles and weapons.

“They’re gonna kill him,” Cleo mumbled as a few armed mercenaries started approaching Rafe.

Kie scoffed, “Do we care?”

“Yeah, that’s a good question, Pope. Then they’d take the scroll.”

You glanced over at Sarah, the girl obviously torn between the words being said and the fact that Rafe was her brother. He was trying, she could tell, and at this point, that meant enough to her. 

“There are seven of them, they all have rifles.”

JJ’s hand fell from your shoulders. “I know. That’s why we’re gonna need to think outside the box.”

He moved to grab the gun from his waist, checking the bullets in the chamber before loading it. You swallowed thickly, knowing anything that involved JJ and a weapon didn’t tend to go well. 

“Hey.” You grabbed his arm to hold him still for a moment. “This isn’t Call of Duty, okay? We can’t rush into action right now without thinking this through a little.”

Sarah had evidently thought it through enough and grabbed the gun from JJ’s hand to steady in her own grip, the group falling silent as she did so. “That’s my brother.”

The shot rang out, perfectly nailing the fuel tank on one of the mercenary vehicles to cause an explosion. You stared, amazed, before looking at the girl next to you. “Sarah gets the gun from here on out.”

Rafe took off running as more gunshots started to follow and you decided it was probably a good idea to get away from here. Dust kicked up around everyone as you ran, shouts to go faster or change direction coming like rapid fire. 

The sunshine was so warm against your skin and dust coated your throat as you all came up upon the gates with barely enough time to slip through before Pope and JJ slammed the door shut just in time for gunshots to bust through the wood.

“We gotta move,” Kie called out as the boys barricaded the door as best as possible. Somewhere in the chaos, Rafe had managed to land here as well and brought up the rear as the group went running again. 

“Oh shit!” You yelped as a group of sheep were suddenly in the path. They were just as freaked out as you and took off running, giving you enough time to take a deep breath before JJ was grabbing your arm and pulling you to keep moving. 

An almost stumble in his step told you his side was getting irritated from the constant movement and you shifted to push him ahead of you, your hand pressed into his back to keep him going. You came up on a tunnel, Pope and Cleo coming to a stop as the yelling got closer to your location. 

“What are you doing?” JJ slowed to look at the couple, the gun now in Cleo’s hands as John B, Sarah, Kie, and Rafe kept moving.

“We got it, we’ll hold them off,” Pope explained, his hand falling on your back to continue moving you and JJ along. JJ hesitated, hating the idea of splitting up but Pope had already made up his mind. “Hey, let me protect you for once, okay? You’re not the only one who shot teddy bears.”

Cleo gave you a stern look and nudged you in the direction. You gave her an uncertain smile, squeezing her arm in encouragement before you grabbed JJ’s hand in yours and pulled him with you. “Be safe!”

“We’ll be so safe!” Pope called back as they disappeared from view. 

Your chest was heaving, sweat pouring across your skin as the tunnels and stairs weaved their way through the town. Before long, you guys managed to catch up to the others where Rafe so lovingly had John B at knifepoint. 

“What the hell is going on?” You gasped, your hand pressing against your chest where it hurt to breathe as Kiara put her focus on JJ’s now bleeding side. You slid your backpack off, handing it to her wordlessly as she began to sort through the first aid supplied lying within. 

“Rafe, I just saved your life!”

The elder Cameron sibling turned toward her, the knife following as he disagreed. “No, no, no, no, no. You did it so you could steal it from me. There was something in it for you. Not to actually help me, I know that.”

“Rafe, we don’t have time.”

“We can read that, you can’t,” Sarah argued back, completely unphased by the way he was shaking in front of her.

“Why would I help you? I don’t trust you. I don’t trust any of you, do you understand?” He panted, scanning the room where you all had him basically surrounded. He focused back on Sarah, taking a step closer. “Dad trusted you. You remember what happened to him? Remember?!”

You flinched as he yelled, taking a step back in shock as Sarah pushed Rafe away from her. 

“Dad died saving my life,” She shouted before taking a second to breathe. “And you’re so eager to blame me for everything, you won’t even listen to what happened. Singh’s men had me at gunpoint. I was gonna die. Dad took those bullets for me. And if he was still around, he’d want us to work together. I know you know that.”

Rafe’s angry exterior was dropping with each word and as Sarah’s face crumbled with the recount, he was slowly beginning to think he had it all wrong. Shaking his head, his defensive stance disappeared. “No, you’re just going to screw me like everyone else in my life. I know you will.”

“No, no, because I’m all you’ve got,” Sarah reminded him, her voice thick with tears. “And you’re the only family I have left.”

The two siblings stared at each other for a moment, shaking breaths coming from each of them as they spoke through the things that had been left unsaid for almost two years now. You’d never seen Rafe like this, so broken and confused by what he was hearing. 

For so long, Ward had such a deathly grip on Sarah and Rafe both. Rafe had received the brunt of the pressure, as the eldest child and male of the family, Ward used him instead of growing him in a way that a parent should. 

“Alright, if we…uh, if we work together, I still get my cut. So-”

Sarah pushed the scroll aside and fell into her brother’s chest with a sob, her hands wrapping around him tightly. Rafe’s eyes filled with tears at the action, his own arms hesitating before holding her back as the two of them cried together.

Yelling nearby broke apart the peaceful moment, just as Kiara finished rewrapping JJ’s side with fresh bandages after cleaning the skin. She zipped your backpack before returning it, her eyes glancing to where the yelling is coming from. “I hate to break this up, but we need to go.”

John B was quick to get Sarah back to his side, taking her hand protectively as the group shifted out of the room to keep moving. You stayed back with JJ, moving just a bit slower to keep his side from reopening and letting the others gain some lead on you.

“You okay?” You asked as he winced and pressed his hand where the wound was. 

He nodded, letting out a breath. “Just moving a lot. I don’t think fighting the waves was the best idea for it, yeah?”

You shook your head at him, eyes glancing over before you caught sight of a large, dark storm cloud on the horizon. “J? What’s that?”

He looked up and followed your gaze to where the impending issue lied. “Oh fuck. We gotta go.”

Not asking any further questions, you continued up the hill with him until you caught sight of John B, Sarah, Kie, and Rafe. Your brother was holding the map up to the sky, a shaped figure coming back in the reflection of the paper that looked nearly identical to the statue that was up ahead. 

“Crown’s gotta be up there. Come on, let’s go.”

--

a/n: hi i'm so sorry this is short and took forever, just wanted to give a lil something before we get to the next scene

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything

[lanadelnegan]

hyperfeminine reader x negan? he goes to alexandria to take their supplies and reader is just walking around looking all pretty and he CANT resist.

ily 💕💕

ily more bby. xx

Pretty in Pink

S7 Negan x Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut, public sex (in front of Dwight.. like literally in the car while he's driving), Negan being overly caring and sweet with you, character death (negan kills your brother Spencer)

Note: this is dark and twisted ngl.

I watch Negan like a deer in headlights as he whispers into my brother's ear.

"It's because.. ya got no guts." The rest of us are silent as we watch Negan slash his knife through Spencer's stomach, revealing his insides. My stomach churns as I watch him fall to the ground.

Negan chuckles as he looks around, eyeing the crowd as if he's daring us to react.

"Oh, there they are! They were inside of you the whole time." He smirks down at Spencer's lifeless body before his dark eyes roam up, meeting mine.

I quickly look down, biting my lip and fighting back tears. My nails dig into my skin as I try to remain calm.

"Well hello, princess." He slowly approaches me. "Forgive me for the gruesome scene you just had to witness." His hand rests against his chest sympathetically as he stands in front of me now, at least a foot above me.

My fingers lace together in front of me as I continue looking down, digging my dirty white shoe into the gravel.

"I don't believe we've met, sweetheart... In fact, I know we haven't because I definitely would have noticed you, looking all pretty in this little pink skirt."

I look up at him innocently through my lashes. His head cocks to the side as he subtly leans back, noticing the tear slipping from my cheek.

"Shit, darlin'. I am so sorry. That wasn't your boyfriend I just ripped open, was it?" He motions towards Spencer.

I softly shake my head no, earing a grin from him as he tilts my chin upwards to meet his stare.

"He - he was my brother." I sniffle, feeling another tear slide from my cheek.

Negan's jaw ticks and his eyes shut painfully tight as his hand slowly retreats from my chin.

"Goddamn it... If I woulda known.." He shakes his head with disappointment, noticing everyone still standing around us. "Enjoying the fucking show, people?!" He gestures for everyone to clear out before turning his attention back to me.

Sighing loudly, he delicately picks me up in his arms, holding me like a baby. I allow him to carry me as I bury my face into his shirt, soaking it with my tears.

"Ssshhh, babyyy." He whispers against the top of my head as he walks us to his van.

"Dwight! Let's go, you're driving."

"Boss? The supplies.. we don't have them loaded yet." Simon interrupts.

"I'm sorry." Negan's voice vibrates through his chest and into my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "Does it look like I give two fucks about supplies right now?"

He doesn't wait for Simon to answer as he opens the passenger door, joining Dwight in the van while carefully maneuvering me in his lap. My legs face towards Dwight while the side of my body leans into Negan.

"Hey, sshhh. It's okay, baby. What's your name?" He rubs my back comfortingly.

"Y/n." I whisper, sniffing my runny nose.

"Y/n, you're gonna stay with me tonight so I can make sure you're okay. I truly am sorry about your brother."

I nod my head, leaning against him. This is the first physical affection I've had from anyone since our parents died. Although it's from a man I'm supposed to hate, I can't deny how nice it feels to be touched.

My brother and I drifted apart when our family found Alexandria and made it our own. He turned into someone I didn't recognize, all power-hungry and selfish.. and although he probably deserved to die, he was still my brother. I'll always love him.

I allow myself to snuggle into Negan, my face against his neck as I inhale his scent of leather and citrusy hair gel.

"Gonna make you forget all about that asshole brother of yours, darlin'." His large, veiny hand glides up my thigh until it settles just underneath the frills of my skirt. He rubs circles on my smooth skin with his thumb, comforting me sweetly.

The drive back to the sanctuary seems to last a decade and I watch the way Dwight zones out at the road in front of him, not paying attention to us.

My hand bravely drifts on top of Negan's and I slide his hand deeper underneath my skirt, watching it disappear completely. I know how wrong this is, but I can't help my attraction to him. I've watched him from the window of my room too many times to count, wondering what his lips feel like. Doodling his name next to little hearts in my diary. This is what I've wanted, even if it's under these circumstances.

Negan's eyes widen a little as he looks at me, surprised by my forwardness.

He glances at Dwight before looking back up at me, his heavy eyelids slightly covering his hazel eyes as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

I reach my finger up to graze over his puffy bottom lip in a "shush" motion before leaning in to kiss him. His body remains still as his lips part, letting my tongue slip past his. He groans softly and Dwight glances at us, bringing his eyebrows together.

"Eyes on the fucking road, Dwight." Negan says with our mouths still connected. I let my hands explore him, roaming them up his body and feeling his chest through his t-shirt.

His hard cock presses into my ass as I turn myself to face him, bringing one leg over until they're both hanging over each side of him and I'm straddling his lap. He grips my ass under my skirt as his head falls back slightly, waiting for my next move.

"Negan.."

"Yeah, baby?" His voice is low and raspy.

"Touch me."

His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he urges my back into the dashboard. My mouth gapes open when he pulls my panties to the side, revealing my pussy to him.

"Look at this pretty pink pussy, baby." He breathes out as his finger slides through my wet folds.

"So wet for daddy. Wish I could fucking take you right here."

I look at Dwight, who's trying his best to pretend we're not here, but the sudden sensation of Negan curling his finger inside me snaps my attention back to him.

"So do it, then." I urge him.

His eyebrows raise. "Ohh, sweetheart. So desperate for some cock." His hands find their way to my hips, tracing over them slowly as I lean back up.

"Just yours." I admit and he chuckles softly.

"Is that right, baby? You've thought about me before, huh? Touched yourself to the thought of my cock inside you."

I nod, letting my fingers run through his slicked back hair and I can't help but grind myself into him, desperate for some friction.

"Take it then. I'm not stoppin' you."

That's all the confirmation I need before reaching for his belt and unbuckling him until his pants are a few inches down his thighs.

My hand reaches in his boxers, pulling out his hardening cock. Negan watches my face as I tug on him a couple times, admiring the way he grows longer and thicker in my hand.

I don't waste any time hovering above him as he slides my panties to the side again, helping me me sink down onto him. I moan out at the fullness as my head slightly falls back.

"Thaaat's it, baby." He groans, digging his fingers into my hips while I bounce on him.

A pothole in the road causes the van to dip suddenly, and my hips collide with his completely, causing the tip of his cock to push violently against my cervix. I cry out loudly at the sharp pain, but continue riding him faster and deeper until tears fill my eyes.

His head rests against the back of the seat as he watches me ride him. "Such a good fucking girl. You wanna be my wife, baby? I'll take such good care of you."

My eyes widen a little at the unexpected offer. "Uh, I - I dunno."

"That's alright, baby. I have all night to convince you. Don't think it'll take much, considering how desperate you were for my cock." He smiles up at me arrogantly.

My moans get faster and louder along with his. "You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?"

I nod as his finger finds my clit with ease, rubbing it just the right way to send me over the edge. He kisses me hard right when my pussy floods his dick, causing a wet spot on his black jeans.

"FUCK. Look at that." He dips his finger in my wetness before bringing it up to my mouth, making me taste myself. I moan around his finger, sucking gently.

"You ready for my cum, baby?"

I nod, wanting to taste him so badly. As if he heard my thoughts, he lifts me off of him until I'm on my knees in the floorboard between his legs.

I watch as he strokes himself a couple times, my eyes darting back and forth between the tip of his swollen dick to his handsome face. His head falls back while his lips part, letting out a deep groan before long ropes of warm cum splatter onto my face and tongue. I close my eyes, savoring the taste of him as I suck his tip dry.

"Goddamn baby. Look at the mess you made." He reaches for my face, wiping his load off my chin with his thumb and sliding it into my mouth. I moan around him again, loving his salty unique taste before climbing up into his lap and leaning my head against his chest.

I close my eyes to the sound of his rapid heartbeat and feeling of his gentle hand stroking my hair.

How can the same hands that ended my brother's life be so... gentle with me.

Dwight shuts the engine off, exiting the van awkwardly once we arrive. Neither of us move, but I smile softly when Negan fixes the white bow in my hair, pinning it back in place and causing my heart to front flip in my chest.

"Negan..." I whisper.

"Yeah, baby?"

"... I'll be your wife."

[rosewood-cafe]

Eris Vanserra x Rhysand's sister.

AN: Omg, I have never written for Eris before, and I am so nervous. Sorry if the ending seemed rushed, I am planning for a part two, but it will take me a long time to do lol.

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

The sound of blood trickling down your back and onto the cold stone floor filled your ears. Drip Drip Drip. Another involuntary back spasm had you writhing with pain. Bile burned your throat as you empty out the contents of your stomach onto the floor next to you. Not having enough strength to move further away nor care to. Your cell was dark and cold. There was a small metal fireplace in the back. The fire was down to cinders and ash mocking you with false hope of warmth.

You were going to die here, you thought. Your wounds still have not healed yet. You had no proper clothing to fight off the cold, and you were stripped bare except for a pair of raggedy trousers. Shame hit you, clawing its way up through your chest. If the wounds would not kill you, you would surely die from the embarrassment alone. Being put on display in front of everyone, stripped, and had her wings taken. Even someone as powerful as the 'Princess of the Night Court' could not have saved her wings.

You wanted to laugh at the irony. You fought against Tamlin and his father to keep your wings, only for them to be ripped away years later. A small laugh escaped your throat at the cruel twist of fate. Hours had passed, yet you still bled, your fingers growing numb. Unstoppable tremors racked your body from the shock and cold still running its course. This must be what Hell is, you just knew it.

"I am going to die here." You finally admitted to yourself, tears collecting in your eyes. Dripping down your face in a steady stream, no matter how hard you tried to stop them. Screams echoed through the cell bringing you back to the harsh reality, you are still under the mountain, and you are going to die here.

'Where is Rhy's?" You thought of your older brother, surely he would gave come to help you out by now? No, you thought. There has not been a scrape at your mental sheilds, or no quick visits like times before. Just absolutely nothing since the... latest punishment. You trembled harder, knocking your upper back into the makeshift bed making you cry out in agony. Your wounds bleeding harder from the force, making you dizzy. A scrape of metal on stone grabbed your attention, and your eyes snapped up to the intruder.

"Hello, little Fawn." You looked towards the intruder with wary eyes, desperately trying to stay awake and aware. Your eyes caught the signature fiery red hair and those piercing amber eyes. Eris Vanserra was in your cell. You threw your arms over your bare chest, feeling the sharp claws of embarrassment digging into you once again. His eyes raked over your body, sending icy chills down your spine. A small whimper of pain escaped your lips at the slight movement.

"What are you doing here?!" you all but growled at the Autumn heir. A smirk formed on his lips as he stepped further in and shut the heavy door. You retreated further back into the cell, "G-Get out!" you hissed, venom laced in your voice. He ignored you, his eyes raking over you once again, noticing the blood pooling underneath you. Too much blood, he thought to himself. He wondered how you had even lasted this long bleeding out. "Where is Rhysand?" he asked. "Or does being Amarantha's whore take more priority than his dying sister?" You narrowed your eyes in warning. You knew of Rhys's sacrifices and the game he has to play. Amarantha's whore is a title he will bear for the rest of his life. Your eyes fell towards the stone floor before answering.

"I do not know where he is," you finally say after a few seconds of silence. He lets out a humorless laugh. "His precious little sister, Princess of the Night Court, lies on death's door, and he doesn't even bother to show up for your last moments?" You huff in annoyance, "Don't act like the Vanserras are anything but cruel. I would be careful, Eris. You have a mighty fine bounty on your head. I'm just waiting to see which brother takes it for his own personal gain."

"I doubt you'll get to see it, considering you'll be dead before the morning rises," he stated, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. As if on cue, another tremor hits you full force, and you scream out in agony. "If you only came here to insult me and my brother, You. Can. Leave." you gritted out slowly, the pain seeping back into your body. You let your arms fall from your chest, leaning over to your cot to rest your aching head. Eris studied you for a moment with a calculated stare. "I can help you if you like." A flame appears in his hands, its light casting eerie shadows on the cell walls. "I am no healer, but I can at least stop the bleeding with my flames." You remained quiet, until a scoff interrupts the stretched silence. "Unless you rather die? Let me see your wounds." Not a request, but a demand.

"Why do you care? I'm almost dead anyway," you ask, tears lining your eyes once again. He takes a tentative step towards you, his mask of indifference faltering. "Because you do not deserve to die here." Another step closer. "Because you deserve a better fate than this." He was in front of you now. "Because you do not yield, not now, not ever." Seeing you in this vulnerable state unnerved, Eris; he didn't know why he had offered his help to you. It was, as if he was under a spell, a string tied to his rib, drawing him towards you. Perhaps witnessing you this broken, stirred an emotion he thought had been snuffed out years ago. He did not, could not dwell on the feeling now. A frustrated tear steamed down your face as you let out a shaky breath. "Okay." You said, you feel like you shouldn't trust him, but the way his words seem so sincere... fuck it. You put your trust into Eris Vanserra, and hope it wouldn't bite you in the ass later.

His shoulders sagged slightly with relief as you turned your back to him, revealing your wounds. Eris walked over to the fireplace and with a flick of his wrist, ignited a small fire. "This will not last long; it's nearly all ash," he said. "But I need the light to see your wounds." He moved behind you. "May I?" he asked before touching you. You let out a small hum. "Words, Fawn." You let your head drop, "Yes." You stated weakly, the adrenaline, finally wearing off. He puts his hands on your shoulders and gets on his knees.

"I have dreamed of burning you and your Court with my flames, but never like this," he said, his voice carrying an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. "Forgive me Y/n, for, my flames aren't so forgiving." He places his large calloused hands onto your back. Your back was ablaze with searing flames, the agony so intense it made Aramantha's torture seem like child's play. A guttural scream tore from your throat, accompanied by scalding tears streaming down your face. You were engulfed in unbearable torment. "Stop moving so much," Eris grunted, firmly pressing an arm across your chest to keep you still as he continued his grim task. Your throat felt raw from the incessant screaming, the pain blinding and merciless. The acrid stench of burning flesh was so overwhelming, you feared you might vomit. You gripped onto Eris's forearm as a sob fell from your lips. "Stop! I-I Can't!" You almost pleaded with him, Eris let out a curse under his breath as you bucked against his hold.

"You can, and you will," he snapped at you, his brow furrowed in concentration, a bead of sweat trickling down his face. Blood smeared his hands and stained his clothes. "I am almost done," he muttered, more to himself than to you. The cell door suddenly swung open, crashing against the stone wall with a resounding thud. Eris froze, his eyes darting towards the door. Finally, he released his grip on you, and you exhaled in relief.

"What the hell are you doing to my sister?!" Rhys's voice thundered through the room, his fury radiating like a palpable force. "Rhys..." you whispered weakly, your strength ebbing away. You collapsed onto your side, letting the darkness envelop you completely.

[obeymeshallwedateaddict]

Hello, can you do a angst on which the brothers get into trouble (even Lucifer somehow idk) And they could've got hurt And maybe die, But MC can in and blocked the attempted attack, killing them instead? (Feel free to ignore if u wish)

Okay so this is one.. how do I put it.. hard request to write but even so I managed. (I cried a few times myself) I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: During a fight MC sees that the brothers won't be able to dodge the next attack so you take it instead of them, causing your death.

Contains: Angst

GN!MC x each of the brothers

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

I was supposed to protect you

Lucifer

Lucifer stood tall, his pride never wavering, even as the powerful foe in front of him unleashed attack after attack. But even he, the avatar of pride, was struggling. You could see it in the way his shoulders slumped, in how his wings faltered with every swing of his sword.

The enemy struck again, and Lucifer barely managed to block the blow, his breath ragged, his eyes filled with a frustration you rarely saw from him. But the next attack was coming fast—too fast. You realized with a chilling certainty that this one was meant to kill him.

You moved before you could think, throwing yourself in front of Lucifer just as the blast connected.

"MC!" Lucifer’s voice was sharp, but there was something else beneath it—panic.

The pain that shot through you was unbearable, but you forced yourself to stay conscious, if only to catch one last glimpse of him. Lucifer’s eyes were wide, his usual calm shattered. He caught you as you fell, his arms around you trembling in a way they never had before.

"Why did you do that!?!? MC, Why??" His voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw Lucifer break. His pride, his strength—it all crumbled in the face of your sacrifice.

You tried to speak, but all you managed was a weak smile before the darkness took you. In your last moments of life you were happy that you managed to save a person you truly loved.

Lucifer stood there with your dead body in his arms. Tears were threatening to fall down from his eyes. He took a sharp breath and with one swift motion he killed all the enemies, using magic. Now the only one alive was him. Him-Lucifer. The Avatar of Pride shedding tears over your dead body, telling you how much he loves you and questioning your actions, hoping you could hear him somehow.

Mammon

Mammon was reckless, as always. He threw himself into the fight with a wild grin, as if nothing in the world could touch him. But you knew better. You saw the cracks in his confidence, the way his movements were just a little slower, a little more desperate. The enemy wasn’t backing down, and Mammon—despite his bravado—was struggling.

And then it happened. The enemy’s strike came faster than Mammon could react. For a split second, fear flashed across his face as he realized he couldn’t dodge it.

Without thinking, you lunged in front of him, taking the hit that was meant for him.

"MC!" Mammon’s voice was louder than you had ever heard it, full of shock and horror.

You collapsed, your body screaming in pain, but all you could focus on was the sound of Mammon’s voice, the way he was suddenly by your side, shaking you, his hands trembling as he gripped your shoulders.

"What the hell were you thinkin'?!" His voice broke, his eyes wide and frantic. "You can’t... you can’t do this! Not for me!"

But you had. And as the world started to fade, you caught one last glimpse of his face, his usual carefree grin replaced with pure, unadulterated grief.

Leviathan

Levi was a wreck, barely holding on as the enemy advanced. His usual confidence in battle was shattered, and you could see the fear in his eyes, the way his hands shook as he tried to summon another spell. He was never good with pressure, and now, with death staring him in the face, he was frozen.

The enemy’s attack was coming, and Levi... Levi wasn’t fast enough.

You moved on instinct, pushing him out of the way and taking the hit yourself. The pain was overwhelming, but the look on Levi’s face was even worse.

"MC?!" His voice cracked, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at you. "No... no, this isn’t... this can’t be happening!"

He was by your side in an instant, his hands fluttering uselessly as if he didn’t know what to do, how to fix this. "You... you didn’t have to do that... I... I should’ve... I should’ve been the one...!" Tears streamed down his face, his usual self-deprecation replaced by a raw kind of grief.

You tried to tell him it was okay, but you couldn’t form the words. All you could do was reach for his hand as your vision faded.

Satan

Satan’s anger had always been his greatest weapon, but today, it was also his downfall. He was fighting with everything he had, but his fury clouded his judgment, made him reckless. The enemy saw it, too, and took advantage of it.

The blow came fast, too fast for Satan to avoid.

You didn’t hesitate. You stepped in front of him, the attack landing squarely on you instead.

"MC!" Satan’s voice was full of disbelief, his eyes wide with shock as he watched you fall.

He was at your side in an instant, his hands shaking as he cradled you against him. His rage, his fury—it all vanished in that moment, replaced by a desperate grief that you had never seen from him before.

"You shouldn’t have done that..." he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Why did you—" He cut himself off, shaking his head as if trying to deny what had just happened. "I could’ve... I should’ve protected you... not the other way around..."

But it was too late. You had made your choice. And as your vision darkened, you could feel the warmth of his tears on your skin.

Asmodeus

Asmo was usually so composed, always thinking of his looks, his charm, his effortless grace. But now, in the face of danger, all of that melted away. His fear was palpable, and his usual confidence faltered as the enemy closed in.

The attack came faster than Asmo could react. He barely had time to raise his hands in defense.

You stepped in front of him, taking the blow meant for him. The pain was instant, sharp, but the look on Asmo’s face was even worse.

"MC..." Asmo’s voice trembled, all traces of his usual playful tone gone. He knelt beside you, his hands shaking as he touched your face, as if he was afraid you’d break under his touch.

"You didn’t have to do that..." he whispered, his voice cracking. "Why would you...?"

You tried to smile, to reassure him, but the pain was too much. Your vision blurred, and the last thing you saw was Asmo’s face, streaked with tears—tears he usually would never allow to fall.

Beelzebub

Beel fought with a ferocity born of desperation. His brothers were in danger, and he was doing everything he could to protect them. But the enemy was too strong, and Beel, despite his immense strength, was struggling to hold on.

The attack came too fast for Beel to block, and for a moment, you saw the fear in his eyes—the realization that he wasn’t fast enough to stop it.

You moved before you could think, throwing yourself in front of him.

"MC!" Beel’s voice boomed, full of horror as you crumpled to the ground.

He caught you before you could hit the dirt, his massive arms wrapping around you like a shield, but it was too late. The damage was done.

"You shouldn’t have done that..." Beel whispered, his voice so soft, so broken. "I should’ve protected you... not the other way around..." His tears fell silently, his grip on you tightening as if he could somehow keep you here, keep you safe, if only he held on hard enough.

But you knew that nothing could stop what was happening. And as the darkness claimed you, you could feel Beel’s sorrow wash over you like a wave.

Belphegor

Belphegor had always been calm, even in battle. He never let anything faze him, his lazy demeanor masking the sharp mind beneath. But today, that calm was shattered. The enemy was too strong, too fast, and Belphie wasn’t ready.

The attack came, aimed directly at him, and for once, Belphegor didn’t move fast enough.

Without thinking, you stepped in front of him, taking the blow meant for him.

"MC!" Belphie’s voice, usually so indifferent, was suddenly full of panic.

He knelt beside you, his eyes wide with disbelief as he held you. "You... you idiot... why did you do that?"

There was no humor in his voice, no teasing. Just raw, unfiltered pain. His usual lazy demeanor was gone, replaced with a desperation that you had never seen from him before.

"I was supposed to protect you," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I was supposed to..." But he didn’t finish. There was nothing left to say.

And as your vision faded, you knew that Belphie, in his own way, was breaking too.